Women of the plains gather
"Many plays -- certainly mine -- are like blank checks. The actors and directors put their own signatures on them." Thornton Wilder's comment is both disingenuous and true, and the same artful simplicity that marks "Our Town" also infuses the Road Theatre Company’s "The Friendly Hour." Imagine "The View" meets Laura Ingalls Wilder: Tom Jacobson's all-female elegy to life in rural South Dakota is based on the actual minutes of a woman's club that met from 1934 through 2007.
Half a dozen dirt-poor Depression newlyweds, led by freethinking Dorcas Briggle (Ann Noble) and flinty Effie Voss (Kate Mines), decide to meet monthly for games, discussion and tasty lunches. Jacobson doesn't so much narrate as eavesdrop on these women as they pass through familiar milestones of everyday life: pregnancy, marriage, aging, disappointment. Events are small-scale here, so what registers most vividly in Mark Bringelson's intimate and tender production is time itself -- mortality, the seasons, being part of nature's cycle. Over and over, the club wonders about God and the eternal, meanwhile skinning skunks for a quarter or suffering from hemorrhoids.
What might feel prosaic -- and yes, I found myself drifting now and again -- is enhanced by design and performance. Desma Murphy's "unfinished" wood-beamed set is graceful and durable, much like the women it shelters (although it doesn't evoke the harshly beautiful landscape that dominates their lives). The fine ensemble resists the urge to comment on their characters, and, as a God-fearing conservative, Mines gives a standout performance. Her Effie was so credible, I was dying to ask what she thought of Sarah Palin.
--
Charlotte Stoudt
Thursday, September 18, 2008
CRITICS PICK in Backstage West
BACKSTAGE WEST
September 17, 2008
By Travis Michael Holder
There's a lot of talk these days about what it means to be an American. But at the root of the issue, there is more to that distinction than political rhetoric and a newly famous hockey mom. If you'd like to get at look at the kind of strength and stoicism that made our country sturdy before those in power realized how easy a people we are to fool, there's a better outlet these days than tuning in to CNN. Tom Jacobson has paid exemplary homage to real-life American heroes from a less jaded period in our history, using transcripts of minutes from a rural South Dakotan women's club that gathered monthly from 1934 through 2004, when the last two survivors begin to fade.
As with other of Jacobson's plays (Bunbury, Sperm, Ouroboros), the playwright assigns himself intricate narrative challenges that would have sent Williams back to the loony bin, giving his characters a penchant for talking excitedly over one another — that is, when not giving someone the cold shoulder for some perceived societal faux pas. Under the direction of Mark Bringelson, who keeps his actors constantly on the move even when Jacobson's dialogue is as economical as the down-to-earth lives of these ladies, the ensemble of five is remarkable. Ann Noble is the anchor as Dorcus Briggle, a bursting freethinker who fights at every turn with the stiff-backed Effie Voss (Kate Mines), while Opal Zweifel and Wava Jamtgaard (Deana Barone and Mara Marini) struggle to keep peace. And Bettina Zacar, playing about a dozen women who weave in and out of the circle, demonstrates an uncanny ability to switch from one elaborate character to another in amazingly quick changes.
These powerful Midwestern survivors are the stoic Americans to celebrate and honor, something Jacobson has accomplished with his lyrical, sweetly bucolic text. Although the narrowed eyes of these fiercely local lifelong friends might be just as revealing as the telltale looks from any current political candidate, their resolve to get through their often exigent small-town lives despite the odds is infinitely more sincere than anyone we're asked to accept into our trust today.
September 17, 2008
By Travis Michael Holder
There's a lot of talk these days about what it means to be an American. But at the root of the issue, there is more to that distinction than political rhetoric and a newly famous hockey mom. If you'd like to get at look at the kind of strength and stoicism that made our country sturdy before those in power realized how easy a people we are to fool, there's a better outlet these days than tuning in to CNN. Tom Jacobson has paid exemplary homage to real-life American heroes from a less jaded period in our history, using transcripts of minutes from a rural South Dakotan women's club that gathered monthly from 1934 through 2004, when the last two survivors begin to fade.
As with other of Jacobson's plays (Bunbury, Sperm, Ouroboros), the playwright assigns himself intricate narrative challenges that would have sent Williams back to the loony bin, giving his characters a penchant for talking excitedly over one another — that is, when not giving someone the cold shoulder for some perceived societal faux pas. Under the direction of Mark Bringelson, who keeps his actors constantly on the move even when Jacobson's dialogue is as economical as the down-to-earth lives of these ladies, the ensemble of five is remarkable. Ann Noble is the anchor as Dorcus Briggle, a bursting freethinker who fights at every turn with the stiff-backed Effie Voss (Kate Mines), while Opal Zweifel and Wava Jamtgaard (Deana Barone and Mara Marini) struggle to keep peace. And Bettina Zacar, playing about a dozen women who weave in and out of the circle, demonstrates an uncanny ability to switch from one elaborate character to another in amazingly quick changes.
These powerful Midwestern survivors are the stoic Americans to celebrate and honor, something Jacobson has accomplished with his lyrical, sweetly bucolic text. Although the narrowed eyes of these fiercely local lifelong friends might be just as revealing as the telltale looks from any current political candidate, their resolve to get through their often exigent small-town lives despite the odds is infinitely more sincere than anyone we're asked to accept into our trust today.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Variety Review!!
VARIETY
(The Road Theater; 47 seats; $25 top) A Road Theater Company presentation of a play in two acts by Tom Jacobson. Directed by Mark Bringelson. Sets, Desma Murphy.
Opal Zweifel - Deana Barone
Wava Jamtgaard - Mara Marini
Effie Voss - Kate Mines
Dorcas Briggle - Ann Noble
Isabelle Hagen - Bettina Zacar
By TERRY MORGAN
Playwright Tom Jacobson seems to challenge himself with each new project, from the ambitious interconnectivity of the two parts of "Ouroboros" to the giddy rewrite of famous literature in "Bunbury." On the surface, his latest play, "The Friendly Hour," may not seem stylistically in line with his other work, but it is — its audacity is simply more quiet. It is a moving and funny piece, and the performances by a quintet of skilled actresses makes the play sing with jubilant, complicated life.
Jacobson’s intriguing play structure, which tells the story entirely through meetings of a club, seeks to let the passage of life over seven decades provide the drama. This is more effective in the second act, in which characters grow old and die; the meetings in the first act run together without enough of a sense of progress or differentiation. Jacobson’s dialogue, however, and the cast are so good that this is essentially a quibble.
In 1934 South Dakota a group of young wives have formed a club called the Friendly Hour. It’s an opportunity to see their friends, raise money for good causes and, always, to have a tasty lunch. Book lover Dorcas (Ann Noble) nominates her friend Effie (Kate Mines) for president, a decision she’ll regret over the next 70 years as the two regularly clash. The teasingly scatological Opal (Deana Barone) becomes treasurer, the German-accented Isabelle (Bettina Zacar) concentrates largely on cooking, and Dorcas’ ever-cheerful sister Wava (Mara Marini) keeps her sorrows to herself.
Noble is delightful as Dorcas, bringing brash humor and charm to the role and doing full justice to more dramatic moments as well. Mines is strong as the controlling and conservative Effie, whose bossy nature is undercut by interludes of hiding in closets due to fear or embarrassment. Mines inhabits this character fully. When Dorcas and Effie become great friends again toward the end of their lives, after all of the bad blood between them has passed, we’re glad to see it thanks to the power of her perf.
Barone is superb as peacemaker Opal, strikingly different as the older version of the character but completely believable throughout. Marini is very good as Wava, a character underwritten compared with the other three. Zacar displays admirable versatility with multiple small roles, succeeding best as the sweet if somewhat dim Elvira.
Director Mark Bringelson keeps the pacing swift and the dense series of events clear, but his choice to have the characters regularly walk behind the audience to change costumes is unnecessarily distracting. Desma Murphy’s wooden home framework set creates a properly farm country ambiance, bolstered by Lisa D. Burke’s nicely wrought array of homespun outfits that get fancier as the years go by. Costumes, Lisa D. Burke; lighting, Derrick McDaniel; sound, Christopher Moscatiello; production stage manager, Maurie Gonzalez. Opened, reviewed Sept. 12, 2008. Runs through Nov. 1. Running time: 2 HOURS, 20 MIN.
(The Road Theater; 47 seats; $25 top) A Road Theater Company presentation of a play in two acts by Tom Jacobson. Directed by Mark Bringelson. Sets, Desma Murphy.
Opal Zweifel - Deana Barone
Wava Jamtgaard - Mara Marini
Effie Voss - Kate Mines
Dorcas Briggle - Ann Noble
Isabelle Hagen - Bettina Zacar
By TERRY MORGAN
Playwright Tom Jacobson seems to challenge himself with each new project, from the ambitious interconnectivity of the two parts of "Ouroboros" to the giddy rewrite of famous literature in "Bunbury." On the surface, his latest play, "The Friendly Hour," may not seem stylistically in line with his other work, but it is — its audacity is simply more quiet. It is a moving and funny piece, and the performances by a quintet of skilled actresses makes the play sing with jubilant, complicated life.
Jacobson’s intriguing play structure, which tells the story entirely through meetings of a club, seeks to let the passage of life over seven decades provide the drama. This is more effective in the second act, in which characters grow old and die; the meetings in the first act run together without enough of a sense of progress or differentiation. Jacobson’s dialogue, however, and the cast are so good that this is essentially a quibble.
In 1934 South Dakota a group of young wives have formed a club called the Friendly Hour. It’s an opportunity to see their friends, raise money for good causes and, always, to have a tasty lunch. Book lover Dorcas (Ann Noble) nominates her friend Effie (Kate Mines) for president, a decision she’ll regret over the next 70 years as the two regularly clash. The teasingly scatological Opal (Deana Barone) becomes treasurer, the German-accented Isabelle (Bettina Zacar) concentrates largely on cooking, and Dorcas’ ever-cheerful sister Wava (Mara Marini) keeps her sorrows to herself.
Noble is delightful as Dorcas, bringing brash humor and charm to the role and doing full justice to more dramatic moments as well. Mines is strong as the controlling and conservative Effie, whose bossy nature is undercut by interludes of hiding in closets due to fear or embarrassment. Mines inhabits this character fully. When Dorcas and Effie become great friends again toward the end of their lives, after all of the bad blood between them has passed, we’re glad to see it thanks to the power of her perf.
Barone is superb as peacemaker Opal, strikingly different as the older version of the character but completely believable throughout. Marini is very good as Wava, a character underwritten compared with the other three. Zacar displays admirable versatility with multiple small roles, succeeding best as the sweet if somewhat dim Elvira.
Director Mark Bringelson keeps the pacing swift and the dense series of events clear, but his choice to have the characters regularly walk behind the audience to change costumes is unnecessarily distracting. Desma Murphy’s wooden home framework set creates a properly farm country ambiance, bolstered by Lisa D. Burke’s nicely wrought array of homespun outfits that get fancier as the years go by. Costumes, Lisa D. Burke; lighting, Derrick McDaniel; sound, Christopher Moscatiello; production stage manager, Maurie Gonzalez. Opened, reviewed Sept. 12, 2008. Runs through Nov. 1. Running time: 2 HOURS, 20 MIN.
LA Stage Scene Review: The Friendly Hour
LA STAGE SCENE
Playwright Tom Jacobson finds greatness in the "small" lives of a group of South Dakota housewives in his newest play, The Friendly Hour, being given a splendid World Premiere Production at the always splendid The Road Theater.
Dorcas, Effie, Isabelle, Opal, and Wava are scarcely out of their teens when we first meet them in 1934 at the first meeting of "The Friendly Hour," a circle of friends formed to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and other "fun things." Only two nonagenarians remain at the very last Friendly Hour meeting, held in 2007 in a nursing home in Beresford, South Dakota. Over the course of two acts and 73 years, and thanks to Jacobson's incisive and affectionate writing and five exquisite performances, we come to know these women and their lives—and to love them as if they were our own family.
At the very first meeting, rules are set up. There will be dues, and officers. Activities are decided upon. (They practice bird calls.) And because of a heavy snowfall, the meeting turns into a sleepover. At a later meeting, there's dancing, though Effie (the curmudgeon of the group) does not approve of women dancing together. Nonsense, declares new member Lucille. Dancing with another girl is "better than any smelly old man."
At a Christmas 1945 meeting, with the war now over, the women talk about their dreams, which include an electric sewing machine, a reliable cure for constipation, and mountains, because "how can you stand so much flatland?" In 1953, the day's topic is "What To Do On A Snowy Day," and in 1963, they each reveal their "Most Embarrassing Moment." In 1969, they wonder "What would you say to God if you met him?", to which a smug Effie naturally responds that she already talks to Him every day. Newest member Elvira has brought her collection of rocks and 40,000-year-old fossils collection as the day's entertainment, but Effie declares that fossils are "just planted there to confuse us—by the devil." (Sarah Palin would be proud.)
And every monthly meeting ends with the following words, spoken in cheery unison, "And a tasty lunch was served."
Playwright Jacobson has based The Friendly Hour on family stories about the original Dorcas and her own Friendly Hour group.
FRIENDLY REAL
The writer is probably best known for two of The Road's most memorable productions, the award-winning Ouroboros and Bunbury, both of which played with time in the most imaginative of ways. Here he focuses on character development, on creating a diverse group of women who win our hearts. Opal is the sweet and sensible German girl. Dorcas is the progressive one, who at one point advises uptight, judgmental Effie that "now would be a good time to be a Christian." (It fun to watch the friction which inevitably occurs whenever these two women are in the same room.) Dorcas's sister, the facially scarred Wava, is the shy one, "The Friendly Hour" allowing her to be around people who don't stare. Isabelle is a recent immigrant from Sweden, who becomes Americanized (and learns English) over the course of the years.
As always, The Road has assembled a sensational cast—Deana Barone as Opal, Mara Marini as Wava, Kate Mines as Effie, Ann Noble as Dorcas, and (having the most fun of all) Bettina Zacar, who gets to play Swedish Isabelle ("So sorry. No English."), Lucille, cowhand Irene, cousin Elvira, and Edna from Oklahoma ("Today I'm going to show you how to use an electric knife … and freeze food!"). Not only do these actresses create distinct, three-dimensional characters whom we come to know and care about, they also deserve highest marks for their nuanced depiction of characters' aging process (with the aid of various wigs and a cane or two, but no old age makeup). After seeing The Friendly Hour, it will be hard for anyone to see an elderly person without being able to imagine the young girl or boy they once were.
Jacobson's Bunbury was nominated for a GLAAD award, and The Friendly Hour, while none of its main characters (with the possible exception of butch Irene) is gay, could get equal recognition from PFLAG for its depiction of Dorcas's journey upon learning that her only child, the brilliant Gwyneth, is lesbian. If only every parent struggling with coming to grips with having a gay child could say, as Dorcas does, "I prayed for a miracle, and a miracle occurred. God changed me," the world would be a much better place.
Director Mark Bringelson also helmed Bunbury, and once again here he has guided his cast to memorable characterizations. Desma Murphy's beautiful non-literal set design, which serves as the home of all the women, has been exquisitely lit by Derrick McDaniel. Lisa D. Burke's decades-spanning costumes are character and era perfect. Sound designer Christopher Moscatiello has composed delicately evocative original music.
Effie describes "The Friendly Hour" as "something to believe in when everything else lets you down." If only we all could be as lucky as these women were, what more could we ask for?
Well, perhaps a tasty lunch might hit the spot.
The Road Theatre Company, 5108 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood. Through November 1. Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00; Sundays at 2:00 Reservations: www.roadtheatre.org or call (866) 811-4111
--Steven Stanley
Playwright Tom Jacobson finds greatness in the "small" lives of a group of South Dakota housewives in his newest play, The Friendly Hour, being given a splendid World Premiere Production at the always splendid The Road Theater.
Dorcas, Effie, Isabelle, Opal, and Wava are scarcely out of their teens when we first meet them in 1934 at the first meeting of "The Friendly Hour," a circle of friends formed to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and other "fun things." Only two nonagenarians remain at the very last Friendly Hour meeting, held in 2007 in a nursing home in Beresford, South Dakota. Over the course of two acts and 73 years, and thanks to Jacobson's incisive and affectionate writing and five exquisite performances, we come to know these women and their lives—and to love them as if they were our own family.
At the very first meeting, rules are set up. There will be dues, and officers. Activities are decided upon. (They practice bird calls.) And because of a heavy snowfall, the meeting turns into a sleepover. At a later meeting, there's dancing, though Effie (the curmudgeon of the group) does not approve of women dancing together. Nonsense, declares new member Lucille. Dancing with another girl is "better than any smelly old man."
At a Christmas 1945 meeting, with the war now over, the women talk about their dreams, which include an electric sewing machine, a reliable cure for constipation, and mountains, because "how can you stand so much flatland?" In 1953, the day's topic is "What To Do On A Snowy Day," and in 1963, they each reveal their "Most Embarrassing Moment." In 1969, they wonder "What would you say to God if you met him?", to which a smug Effie naturally responds that she already talks to Him every day. Newest member Elvira has brought her collection of rocks and 40,000-year-old fossils collection as the day's entertainment, but Effie declares that fossils are "just planted there to confuse us—by the devil." (Sarah Palin would be proud.)
And every monthly meeting ends with the following words, spoken in cheery unison, "And a tasty lunch was served."
Playwright Jacobson has based The Friendly Hour on family stories about the original Dorcas and her own Friendly Hour group.
FRIENDLY REAL
The writer is probably best known for two of The Road's most memorable productions, the award-winning Ouroboros and Bunbury, both of which played with time in the most imaginative of ways. Here he focuses on character development, on creating a diverse group of women who win our hearts. Opal is the sweet and sensible German girl. Dorcas is the progressive one, who at one point advises uptight, judgmental Effie that "now would be a good time to be a Christian." (It fun to watch the friction which inevitably occurs whenever these two women are in the same room.) Dorcas's sister, the facially scarred Wava, is the shy one, "The Friendly Hour" allowing her to be around people who don't stare. Isabelle is a recent immigrant from Sweden, who becomes Americanized (and learns English) over the course of the years.
As always, The Road has assembled a sensational cast—Deana Barone as Opal, Mara Marini as Wava, Kate Mines as Effie, Ann Noble as Dorcas, and (having the most fun of all) Bettina Zacar, who gets to play Swedish Isabelle ("So sorry. No English."), Lucille, cowhand Irene, cousin Elvira, and Edna from Oklahoma ("Today I'm going to show you how to use an electric knife … and freeze food!"). Not only do these actresses create distinct, three-dimensional characters whom we come to know and care about, they also deserve highest marks for their nuanced depiction of characters' aging process (with the aid of various wigs and a cane or two, but no old age makeup). After seeing The Friendly Hour, it will be hard for anyone to see an elderly person without being able to imagine the young girl or boy they once were.
Jacobson's Bunbury was nominated for a GLAAD award, and The Friendly Hour, while none of its main characters (with the possible exception of butch Irene) is gay, could get equal recognition from PFLAG for its depiction of Dorcas's journey upon learning that her only child, the brilliant Gwyneth, is lesbian. If only every parent struggling with coming to grips with having a gay child could say, as Dorcas does, "I prayed for a miracle, and a miracle occurred. God changed me," the world would be a much better place.
Director Mark Bringelson also helmed Bunbury, and once again here he has guided his cast to memorable characterizations. Desma Murphy's beautiful non-literal set design, which serves as the home of all the women, has been exquisitely lit by Derrick McDaniel. Lisa D. Burke's decades-spanning costumes are character and era perfect. Sound designer Christopher Moscatiello has composed delicately evocative original music.
Effie describes "The Friendly Hour" as "something to believe in when everything else lets you down." If only we all could be as lucky as these women were, what more could we ask for?
Well, perhaps a tasty lunch might hit the spot.
The Road Theatre Company, 5108 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood. Through November 1. Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00; Sundays at 2:00 Reservations: www.roadtheatre.org or call (866) 811-4111
--Steven Stanley
Monday, September 15, 2008
The Friendly Hour gets "GO" in the LA Weekly
LA WEEKLY THE FRIENDLY HOUR Tom Jacobson's lovely new play chronicles the rituals of a women's club in rural South Dakota from the late '30s to 2007, and we watch the women with whom we grow increasingly familiar age and engage in theological disputes that are really at the heart of the matter. God's purpose, and the purpose of community, interweave and clash through the decades as five fine actors portray many more roles. Leading the pack is Kate Mines' prickly creationist Effie and Ann Noble's proud, forward-thinking Dorcas Briggle who, had she lived somewhere else, would have joined the Unitarian Church. (Deana Barone, Mara Marine and Bettina Zacar round out the cast.) The play desperately needs pruning – its length is partly responsible for a monochromatic quality that dampens Mark Bringleson's otherwise animated and tender staging. If this were scaled down to six pointed scenes from its perpetually unrolling carpet of the club's rites and characters' domestic crises, the impact of the survivor's dotage in 2007 could be that much more gripping. Still, Jacobson has put aside the conspicuous cleverness of his past works, Bunbury and Ouroboros, for an impressionistic landscape that straddles the literary worlds of Anton Chekhov and Thornton Wilder. Desma Murphey's wood-framed set, against which a backdrop of clouds peers through, contains both elegance and allegory, and Lisa D. Burke's costumes contain similar affection and wit. Lankershim Arts Center, 5108 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru Nov. 1. (866) 811-4111, http://roadtheatre.org. A Road Theatre Company produciton. (Steven Leigh Morris)
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
THL finally gets a US distributor
After the film premiered in Venice and Toronto Summit Entertainment has picked up the film for US distribution.
Summit to unlock 'Hurt Locker' in U.S.
Kathryn Bigelow Iraq War actioner marks big Toronto deal
By Gregg Goldstein and Steven Zeitchik
Sept 10, 2008
Summit Entertainment has picked up U.S. rights to Kathryn Bigelow's suspense-filled Iraq War-based actioner "The Hurt Locker," during a Toronto Film Festival that has been hurting for big sales.
The deal for the CAA repped movie closed in the early hours of Wednesday morning for a low seven-figure deal. Jeremy Renner, Anthony Mackie, Brian Geraghty, Guy Pearce and Ralph Fiennes sta in Bigelow's tale of an army squad that must defuse a dangerous bomb in a crowded Iraqi city.
Buyers have been following the title since its Sept. 4 Venice Film Festival premiere in competition.
Summit and several other distributors have been in talks with the filmmakers since its Monday night Toronto bow. All hoped the film's action elements would allow it to escape the curse other Iraq War films have faced at the boxoffice.
Buyer interest in "Locker" spoke to a hunger for quality films in a marketplace, and may be the start of a late-fest flurry in sales as distributors patiently wait for prices to fall.
"This movie is not about the Iraq war. It's an action-adventure movie that happens to be set in Iraq," said Voltage Pictures producer Nic Chartier, who has sold several international territories on the film.
Gregg Goldstein reported from New York. Steven Zeitchik reported from Toronto. Borys Kit contributed to this report.
Summit to unlock 'Hurt Locker' in U.S.
Kathryn Bigelow Iraq War actioner marks big Toronto deal
By Gregg Goldstein and Steven Zeitchik
Sept 10, 2008
Summit Entertainment has picked up U.S. rights to Kathryn Bigelow's suspense-filled Iraq War-based actioner "The Hurt Locker," during a Toronto Film Festival that has been hurting for big sales.
The deal for the CAA repped movie closed in the early hours of Wednesday morning for a low seven-figure deal. Jeremy Renner, Anthony Mackie, Brian Geraghty, Guy Pearce and Ralph Fiennes sta in Bigelow's tale of an army squad that must defuse a dangerous bomb in a crowded Iraqi city.
Buyers have been following the title since its Sept. 4 Venice Film Festival premiere in competition.
Summit and several other distributors have been in talks with the filmmakers since its Monday night Toronto bow. All hoped the film's action elements would allow it to escape the curse other Iraq War films have faced at the boxoffice.
Buyer interest in "Locker" spoke to a hunger for quality films in a marketplace, and may be the start of a late-fest flurry in sales as distributors patiently wait for prices to fall.
"This movie is not about the Iraq war. It's an action-adventure movie that happens to be set in Iraq," said Voltage Pictures producer Nic Chartier, who has sold several international territories on the film.
Gregg Goldstein reported from New York. Steven Zeitchik reported from Toronto. Borys Kit contributed to this report.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
THL takes home 4 awards at Venice Film Festival
1. SIGNIS Award
The SIGNIS Jury has awarded its Grand Prize to Kathryn Bigelow’s anti-war film THE HURT LOCKER. According to the jury’s statement, the motivation for this choice is the filmmaker’s uncompromising approach to the Iraq war and its consequences seen through the experience of the bomb diffusion specialists for whom war is an addiction rather than a cause. “The film challenges the audience’s view of war in general and the current war in particular because it demonstrates the struggle between violence to the body and psychological alienation.”
2. La Navicella – Venezia Cinema Award
3. Arca Cinemagiovani Award (Best Film Venezia 65: The Hurt Locker by Kathryn Bigelow)
4. Human Rights Film Network Award
The SIGNIS Jury has awarded its Grand Prize to Kathryn Bigelow’s anti-war film THE HURT LOCKER. According to the jury’s statement, the motivation for this choice is the filmmaker’s uncompromising approach to the Iraq war and its consequences seen through the experience of the bomb diffusion specialists for whom war is an addiction rather than a cause. “The film challenges the audience’s view of war in general and the current war in particular because it demonstrates the struggle between violence to the body and psychological alienation.”
2. La Navicella – Venezia Cinema Award
3. Arca Cinemagiovani Award (Best Film Venezia 65: The Hurt Locker by Kathryn Bigelow)
4. Human Rights Film Network Award
Friday, September 5, 2008
TIME magazine reviews THL
Here's the article:
Thursday, Sep. 04, 2008
The Hurt Locker: A Near-Perfect War Film
By Richard Corliss / Venice
The U.S. Army bomb disposal unit has three men: an intelligence officer, the specialist who covers the scene with his rifle and the staff sergeant who walks up to the device and tries to turn it off. Today there's a report of one on a Baghdad street. Mission simple to define — "Let them know that if they're gonna leave a bomb on the side of the road," the staff sergeant says, "we're gonna blow up their f---in' road" — but way harder to accomplish. As he walks toward the contaminated area wearing a heavily insulated space suit on a 130-degree day, he catches the corner-eyesight of a man about to use a cell phone. The spaceman turns and runs. Too late: BOOM! The bomb detonates and so does he. Blood seeps down his helmet visor like red rain on the wrong side of a car windshield.
This is the first scene of The Hurt Locker, which has its world premiere here at the Venice Film Festival before playing Sunday at the Toronto fest. No U.S. opening or distributor has been secured, but that should change once festival people strap themselves in for this dynamite drive through the Iraq occupation. (Make that war.) Except for a few digressive scenes — a solo sortie of personal vengeance, a conversation about what it all means — that could easily be cut from the 2 hr. 11 min. running time, The Hurt Locker is a near-perfect movie about men in war, men at work. Through sturdy imagery and violent action, it says that even Hell needs heroes.
The director, Kathryn Bigelow, has paraded her adroitness with complex stories about oddball characters in two curious subgenres: Near Dark (1987) was the all-time teenage vampire love story, Point Break (1991) the all-time surfer-heist movie. The scriptwriter, Marc Boal, is a journalist for Rolling Stone, The Village Voice and Playboy, which ran a story that Paul Haggis expanded into the sharpest of last year's Iraq-related dramas, In the Valley of Elah. These two filmmakers have pooled their complementary talents to make one of the rare war movies that's strong but not shrill, and sympathetic to guys doing an impossible job.
With the death of their boss, and 38 days left in their rotation, the two survivors — Sgt. J.T. "Bomber Mike" Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Specialist Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty) get a new guy, Staff Sgt. William James (Jeremy Renner), who lacks the dead man's leadership skills or his bluff camaraderie. James doesn't say much, just does his own thing, which is to keep little pieces of Baghdad from blowing up.
On his first mission, James releases a cloud of smoke, protecting him from sharpshooters but obliterating his comrades' view of him. (There's another company ready to cover him closer to the action.) A taxi has just edged toward the suspected device; he tells the driver to back out of the area. No movement. James walks closer, repeats the order; stillness. He puts his gun against the man's head: "Wanna back up?" The car slides into reverse. "Well, if he wasn't an insurgent," somebody says, "he sure is now." Finding a string nearly buried in the street dirt, James finds it attached to seven bombs and matter-of-factly snaps the wire for each. OK, that's done. Piece of cake, seven slices.
It's a creepy marvel to watch James in action. He has the cool aplomb, analytical acumen and attention to detail of a great athlete, or a master psychopath, maybe both. A quote from former New York Times Iraq expert Christopher Hedges that opens the film says, "War is a drug." Movies often editorialize on this theme: the man who's a misfit back home but an efficient, imaginative killing machine on the battlefield. Bigelow and Boal aren't after that. They're saying that, in a hellish peace-keeping operation like the U.S. deployment in Iraq and Afghanistan (James' previous assignment), the Army needs guys like James.
Some people have the luck or curse to do what they're supremely good at; and the exercise of that skill gives pleasure, even if the job carries the imminent risk of death. The talent that another man might have for making bombs, James has for finding and silencing them. It's not just his job, it's his vocation. Whether he's stripping a car piece by piece or cutting open a boy's stomach to pull out an IED, James has the instincts, let's say the genius, to do it. "Mission accomplished" is not a Presidential PR phrase, it's a definition of this man at work. It'd be a crime not to apply his expertise to saving lives. James is also in it for the fun. We learn that he has a wife and a baby back home, but Baghdad is where he feels most alive — performing a task that could end his life. If defusing bombs isn't a drug for James, it's a stimulant, pure caffeine, his headiest, most essential adrenaline.
A genius makes his own rules; a soldier isn't supposed to. Before examining the suspect car, James doffs his space suit; at this close range it won't offer much protection. ("If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna be comfortable.") More recklessly, he tosses his headset on the ground, so he doesn't have to hear Sanborn's pleas to get the hell out of there. Groups of men have gathered at storefronts, on the balconies and roofs of apartment houses, and James' lone-gunman bravado could jeopardize the mission. But a genius has to stay focused. There's got to be a bomb in here somewhere; ah, under the hood. Though his mates aren't crazy about his methods — Sanborn sucker-punches James in the jaw after this little escapade — they'll come to appreciate him. "Not very good with people, are you," Eldridge tells James, "but you're a good warrior."
The heart of the film is a half dozen sequences, most of them on bomb-squad detail, one long, terrific one showing the unit holed up with some Brit mercenaries (led by Ralph Fiennes, the star of Bigelow's 1995 futuristic movie Strange Days) fighting off fire from al-Qaeda-in-Iraq types out in the desert. Boal and Bigelow know that there's enough tension in the act of walking up to a bomb and trying to defuse it; they don't have to amp up the suspense with theatrics.
The appearances by some familiar faces — Fiennes, Guy Pearce, David Morse — are all too brief. But the three leads don't make you long for star power. They're fine: Mackie as the veteran who plays by the book, Geraghty as the subordinate with jumpy nerves, and especially Renner. He's had supporting roles in North Country, 28 Days Later and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, but this is his big chance, and he seizes it. He's ordinary, pudgy-faced, quiet, and at first seems to lack the screen charisma to carry a film. That supposition vanishes in a few minutes, as Renner slowly reveals the strength, confidence and unpredictability of a young Russell Crowe. The merging of actor and character is one of the big things to love about this movie. The other is that its tone, of steely calm, takes its cue from the character it so acutely observes. It's as if James was not only the subject of the movie — he made it.
Later I may think of a better depiction of the helplessness and heroism attending the U.S. presence in the war on terrorism, but for now I'll say this one's the tops. (See photos of the Venice Film Festival here.
Thursday, Sep. 04, 2008
The Hurt Locker: A Near-Perfect War Film
By Richard Corliss / Venice
The U.S. Army bomb disposal unit has three men: an intelligence officer, the specialist who covers the scene with his rifle and the staff sergeant who walks up to the device and tries to turn it off. Today there's a report of one on a Baghdad street. Mission simple to define — "Let them know that if they're gonna leave a bomb on the side of the road," the staff sergeant says, "we're gonna blow up their f---in' road" — but way harder to accomplish. As he walks toward the contaminated area wearing a heavily insulated space suit on a 130-degree day, he catches the corner-eyesight of a man about to use a cell phone. The spaceman turns and runs. Too late: BOOM! The bomb detonates and so does he. Blood seeps down his helmet visor like red rain on the wrong side of a car windshield.
This is the first scene of The Hurt Locker, which has its world premiere here at the Venice Film Festival before playing Sunday at the Toronto fest. No U.S. opening or distributor has been secured, but that should change once festival people strap themselves in for this dynamite drive through the Iraq occupation. (Make that war.) Except for a few digressive scenes — a solo sortie of personal vengeance, a conversation about what it all means — that could easily be cut from the 2 hr. 11 min. running time, The Hurt Locker is a near-perfect movie about men in war, men at work. Through sturdy imagery and violent action, it says that even Hell needs heroes.
The director, Kathryn Bigelow, has paraded her adroitness with complex stories about oddball characters in two curious subgenres: Near Dark (1987) was the all-time teenage vampire love story, Point Break (1991) the all-time surfer-heist movie. The scriptwriter, Marc Boal, is a journalist for Rolling Stone, The Village Voice and Playboy, which ran a story that Paul Haggis expanded into the sharpest of last year's Iraq-related dramas, In the Valley of Elah. These two filmmakers have pooled their complementary talents to make one of the rare war movies that's strong but not shrill, and sympathetic to guys doing an impossible job.
With the death of their boss, and 38 days left in their rotation, the two survivors — Sgt. J.T. "Bomber Mike" Sanborn (Anthony Mackie) and Specialist Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty) get a new guy, Staff Sgt. William James (Jeremy Renner), who lacks the dead man's leadership skills or his bluff camaraderie. James doesn't say much, just does his own thing, which is to keep little pieces of Baghdad from blowing up.
On his first mission, James releases a cloud of smoke, protecting him from sharpshooters but obliterating his comrades' view of him. (There's another company ready to cover him closer to the action.) A taxi has just edged toward the suspected device; he tells the driver to back out of the area. No movement. James walks closer, repeats the order; stillness. He puts his gun against the man's head: "Wanna back up?" The car slides into reverse. "Well, if he wasn't an insurgent," somebody says, "he sure is now." Finding a string nearly buried in the street dirt, James finds it attached to seven bombs and matter-of-factly snaps the wire for each. OK, that's done. Piece of cake, seven slices.
It's a creepy marvel to watch James in action. He has the cool aplomb, analytical acumen and attention to detail of a great athlete, or a master psychopath, maybe both. A quote from former New York Times Iraq expert Christopher Hedges that opens the film says, "War is a drug." Movies often editorialize on this theme: the man who's a misfit back home but an efficient, imaginative killing machine on the battlefield. Bigelow and Boal aren't after that. They're saying that, in a hellish peace-keeping operation like the U.S. deployment in Iraq and Afghanistan (James' previous assignment), the Army needs guys like James.
Some people have the luck or curse to do what they're supremely good at; and the exercise of that skill gives pleasure, even if the job carries the imminent risk of death. The talent that another man might have for making bombs, James has for finding and silencing them. It's not just his job, it's his vocation. Whether he's stripping a car piece by piece or cutting open a boy's stomach to pull out an IED, James has the instincts, let's say the genius, to do it. "Mission accomplished" is not a Presidential PR phrase, it's a definition of this man at work. It'd be a crime not to apply his expertise to saving lives. James is also in it for the fun. We learn that he has a wife and a baby back home, but Baghdad is where he feels most alive — performing a task that could end his life. If defusing bombs isn't a drug for James, it's a stimulant, pure caffeine, his headiest, most essential adrenaline.
A genius makes his own rules; a soldier isn't supposed to. Before examining the suspect car, James doffs his space suit; at this close range it won't offer much protection. ("If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna be comfortable.") More recklessly, he tosses his headset on the ground, so he doesn't have to hear Sanborn's pleas to get the hell out of there. Groups of men have gathered at storefronts, on the balconies and roofs of apartment houses, and James' lone-gunman bravado could jeopardize the mission. But a genius has to stay focused. There's got to be a bomb in here somewhere; ah, under the hood. Though his mates aren't crazy about his methods — Sanborn sucker-punches James in the jaw after this little escapade — they'll come to appreciate him. "Not very good with people, are you," Eldridge tells James, "but you're a good warrior."
The heart of the film is a half dozen sequences, most of them on bomb-squad detail, one long, terrific one showing the unit holed up with some Brit mercenaries (led by Ralph Fiennes, the star of Bigelow's 1995 futuristic movie Strange Days) fighting off fire from al-Qaeda-in-Iraq types out in the desert. Boal and Bigelow know that there's enough tension in the act of walking up to a bomb and trying to defuse it; they don't have to amp up the suspense with theatrics.
The appearances by some familiar faces — Fiennes, Guy Pearce, David Morse — are all too brief. But the three leads don't make you long for star power. They're fine: Mackie as the veteran who plays by the book, Geraghty as the subordinate with jumpy nerves, and especially Renner. He's had supporting roles in North Country, 28 Days Later and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, but this is his big chance, and he seizes it. He's ordinary, pudgy-faced, quiet, and at first seems to lack the screen charisma to carry a film. That supposition vanishes in a few minutes, as Renner slowly reveals the strength, confidence and unpredictability of a young Russell Crowe. The merging of actor and character is one of the big things to love about this movie. The other is that its tone, of steely calm, takes its cue from the character it so acutely observes. It's as if James was not only the subject of the movie — he made it.
Later I may think of a better depiction of the helplessness and heroism attending the U.S. presence in the war on terrorism, but for now I'll say this one's the tops. (See photos of the Venice Film Festival here.
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