Well, dear readers, it is not only a brand new week; it’s almost the end of January. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, January is at an end and February is about to begin. Already this year is flying by like a gazelle in a jock strap. February is going to be a very intense little month (and I do mean little, since it has less days), what with having to finish Miss Linda Purl’s act and do our first two performances of it, what with beginning the musical theater workshop, what with finishing the little Disney gig, what with finishing the short story I’m working on and then going back to polish the three that my friend Margaret hasn’t seen yet, and what with having to finish the little musical I’m working on with Mr. David Wechter. The reality of the latter is that if I can’t pin him down and he can’t do what’s necessary to finish it, then I will finish on my own and do a polish with him over one weekend. We have most of act one done, and complete notes for act two, although I’m suddenly feeling like I might want to do the show in one act – you know, ninety minutes, in and out. Only time will tell. And why is that? Why won’t anyone but time tell? Maybe I’m bored of the fact that only time will tell. That just gives time way too much power, don’t you think? What the HELL am I talking about? Speaking of time telling, I had a productive Sunday. I got up and then had to hie myself to a rehearsal with Miss Linda Purl. Well, it wasn’t so much a rehearsal as a putting-stuff-on-tape-because-her-musical-director-is-leaving-town-for-two-weeks. But, as I sat there and listened, I began to try and figure out where a few things might go. Happily, we have the first two things in act one, and I think we have the end of act one. And we have the encore. And as I began to think of where the big sequences might go, I began to get a vision of the structure – I mentioned it to Linda and she loved the idea of it. So, I’m going to start playing with that today, and seeing where it leads. After the rehearsal, I toddled over to the theater. We had quite a nice-sized house, about fifty-five, not bad for a Sunday matinee. The show wasn’t as sharp as the night before – the audience was fairly quiet, although certain lines got huge laughs. And, as these things usually go, the cast let the quietness affect their performances – I mentioned it to them before they left for their three days off, and hopefully we’ll get our good energy back. The energy problems usually occur in exactly the same places, and I am trying to get the actors involved to understand where those danger spots are, but so far it just hasn’t locked in yet. I do think they’re beginning to understand that I’m treating this entire run as either a preview period, or an out-of-town tryout. Hence, notes as I feel they’re needed, and little changes as I feel they’re needed. After the show, I went home, ate a little something, and then sat on my couch like so much fish to have a little “me” time.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below, because that first paragraph was endless and I feel your collective eyes need a respite – of course, only time will tell if you’ll get said respite.
Last night, I managed to watch two count them two motion pictures on DVD. The first motion picture was entitled Breakfast at Tiffany’s, starring Miss Audrey Hepburn, Mr. George Peppard, Mr. Buddy Ebsen, Miss Patricia Neal, and Mr. Mickey Rooney. Let’s get the obvious out of the way – I love Breakfast at Tiffany’s even with its occasional faults. No, it’s not terribly faithful to Mr. Capote’s book, but it just works on its own cinematic terms. Mr. George Axelrod’s script is pretty wonderful, with terrific dialogue, and memorable scenes. The cast, with one exception, is pretty much perfection. The one exception, of course, is Mickey Rooney as a Japanese landlord. Back when the film was made, that sort of casting was tolerated, but even back then, even though I thought he was amusing, I knew there was something wrong with it and it rubbed me the wrong way even as a youngster. Interestingly, in the little “documentary” included as an extra, Blake Edwards’ says it’s the one thing he wishes he could go back and fix – wishes he could go back and recast the part. Miss Hepburn is gloriously glorious, and I like George Peppard as Paul Varjak. Edwards’ has some veiled comments about Peppard – saying he liked him very much but that he didn’t really want to cast him then, and that he never wanted to work with him subsequently. Patricia Neal is great as the keeper of Paul, and it’s nice to see her in the documentary (which I’m making sound better than it is – it’s frustratingly short, frustratingly light on interesting details, and frustratingly sort of boring). For me, the best performance in the film is given by Mr. Buddy Ebsen, who, in one ten-minute sequence, does more than some actors do in an entire career. He’s so real, so touching, and so human, and I get very emotional watching him. And the ending remains one of the most sublime endings in film history – a perfect marriage of direction, acting, music, and sound. It never fails to reduce me to copious tears. Tiffany’s was available on DVD for years – that transfer was too dark, very grainy, and sort of ugly. This new transfer is too light, too pale, color-wise, but is a step above the last one in all but color. The clips used in the documentary are from the old transfer, and you can instantly see what the skin tones are supposed to look like, and even though the grain is awful and the image dark, the colors are very accurate, which they’re not in the new transfer.
I then watched the second motion picture on DVD, which was entitled A Slightly Pregnant Man, starring Miss Catherine Deneuve and Mr. Marcello Mastroianni, directed by Mr. Jacques Demy. I had only seen part of this film on a blurry ugly VHS tape, dubbed in English. The dub was so awful I had to finally shut it off. The film in that version appeared crass, unfunny, and sans charm. So, it was great to finally be able to watch it in its proper screen ratio (1:66) and in French with English subtitles. Mr. Demy was one-off; no other director was like him. He had his own cinema universe and one either went along for the ride or didn’t. A Slightly Pregnant Man (the French title translates to The Most Important Event in The History of the Entire World or something like that) is a sweet, charming fable, and with the original actors’ voices the film, which isn’t a masterpiece, is nonetheless very enjoyable. The English dub is included as an option, and it’s worth listening to after you’ve watched the film in French, to see just how awful it makes the film seem. Deneuve is at her most beautiful, Mastroianni is funny and endearing as the world’s first pregnant man (a concept which Joan Rivers would shamelessly steal for her inept film Rabbit Test), and Demy’s direction is, as usual, filled with wonderful colors and simple setups that serve his storytelling perfectly. The whole concoction is set to music by Michel Legrand. The transfer is fine – not stellar, but certainly acceptable.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? I do believe that I have many things to do today, so I’d better wrap up these here notes and get them posted.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, book editing days, present the budget for the two spots, do any further rewrites, do a spot of writing on my short story, do a spot of writing on the musical, start outlining the musical theater workshop course, and attend to a plethora of other things. Today’s topic of discussion: What were your favorite fairy tales and stories when you were growing up? And do you remember them till this day? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we? Only time will tell, the blackguard.