Just a small note about a lovely movie; Mr. Warmth, John Landis' portrait of stand-up comedian Don Rickles, debuts on HBO this Sunday night at 8:00pm. When I read that the documentary was included in this fall's New York Film Festival line-up, I was skeptical of its place in the program. Having seen the film (and experienced the amazing press conference with Mr. Landis after the screening), I can say that its portrait of a lost era of American "show business" is both moving and deeply felt. And, obviously, laugh out loud funny. Watching the film, Rickles' profound influence on American stand-up is crystal clear; his bawdy, free-form assault on the audience is as relentless as it is hilarious.

There is something much more, well, human at work in this brand of old school entertainment, a lost sense of dignity that was less dependent upon surfaces that today's world of 24/7 plastic glitz. Rickles' career was built on a kind of sweat equity and hard work that has more to do with jazz clubs and rail travel than today's "holy shit, dude" rock-and-roll tour bus brand of populist stadium comedy. Say what you will about the relative naiveté of that by-gone era, but there is a sophistication and intelligence in the implied nature of this brand of humor that is absent from today's "in your face" extremism. I wasn't even around for it, but Mr. Warmth made me wish that I could have made it to Vegas, to sit in the small lounges in the casinos of the era, taking it all in. Of course, an anonymous seat in the last row, please, out of the range of Rickles' unflinching eye, would have been ideal. Maybe the best thing about Landis' film is the safety of distance; You can enjoy Rickles' brilliance without the painful flattery of becoming a punchline. Watch and see.

Old School And Proud Of It: Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project debuts on HBO on Sunday, December 2nd at 8:00pm EST

Any questions?

An absolutely World Class finish. Stopped me in mid-sentence yesterday...

Now, back to trying to assemble my thoughts on I'm Not There, which has been the most difficult experience I have ever had in terms of writing about a movie... More soon, come hell or high water!

Sigh...

SARASOTA -- Ninety minutes after the evil developer's daughter disappeared and her lover and best friend began playing footsie all over Italy, the man in the baseball cap had enough.

"This must be one of his early ones," the man said, hoisting a shopping bag and heading back to Venice. "I mean, there's nothing much going on."

-- Bill Hutchinson, The Sarasota Herald-Tribune, November 13, 2007.

Driving to FL to get settled in for my annual five month trip to Sarasota... Taking this week off from the blog. More when I get relocated... Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Time's up. After an atrocious 14-3 (3?!?) loss to Ohio State today, one thing is obvious; The game has passed Michigan's Lloyd Carr by. Despite his record of relative excellence, this team does not have the mindset nor the philosophy required to overcome Ohio State nor has this program recognized and adapted to the growth and development of modern football into a game of speed AND power. Today, and for the past several years, Michigan has not had enough of either. Instead, our coaches call plays that everyone in the stadium knows are coming; There is no deception, no creativity, no real passion on the field. This year has highlighted Carr's massive flaws as a leader of the winningest program in college football history; No discipline on special teams, taking players that come to college with blazing speed and bulking them up and slowing them down, a disorganized sideline, and talented players that are shoved into an overly conservative offensive system that does not allow our most talented guys to make big plays. Simply unacceptable.

Le the rumors begin; While smug Ohio State fans bask in the glow of Jim Tressel's mastery of Lloyd Carr, (he is 6-1 against Michigan), my money is on LSU head coach Les Miles, a former Michigan player, assistant coach and lifelong Wolverine, to come in and turn the program back into an aggressive, dominant program that wins titles. It is a formidable task; There are several roadblocks on the way to winning Miles' services, including a million dollar plus buyout of his contract at LSU, but we need someone with his passion and flair to restore this team. It is absolutely unbearable to watch Michigan this year as the team, a clichéd version of itself, simply plays sloppy, slow, uninspired football. Enough is enough; Lloyd Carr must go.

Restore The Pride: The House That Yost Built

On the eve of the best rivalry game in college football history, a message of support for my Wolverines. It has been a disappointing year. After an unfathomable loss to Appalachian St. (one that will sting forever) and two more losses, Michigan has simply not lived up to our potential as a football team. But nothing is impossible... It is time to make history. Go Blue and beat those Buckeyes!

My two favorite memories from the rivalry...

This moment came during my third year at Michigan. This was the most exciting performance I saw as a student at Michigan, and one of the classic moments in the history of the rivalry. It is known as The Desmond Howard Game...

... but the best season of my life, and the greatest performance I have ever seen by a Michigan player, came in 1997, ten years ago, when Charles Woodson made play after play on every part of the field, all season long. Michigan went on to win the National Championship that year, the first and only time in my life we've won the title. In honor of the 10th Anniversary of the title, here is a taste of what will always be known as The Charles Woodson game...

No matter what happens tomorrow, I will always love my Wolverines for giving me moments like these. But with a trip to The Rose Bowl and a Big Ten Championship on the line, records be damned; Tomorrow is the biggest game of the year. On the 10th Anniversary of our last National Championship, I hope the Wolverines are inspired by the history of this game and their responsibility to fans everywhere; It is time to beat Ohio State. Jim Tressel, a heck of a coach, has owned this rivalry and the Buckeyes have won five of the last six against Michigan, including three in a row coming on the fleet feet and mediocre throwing arm of now-graduated quarterback Troy Smith. Enough is enough; It is time for Lloyd Carr to show the leadership and courage that is demanded of a Michigan coach, to do whatever is necessary to win this game and deliver us the Big Ten title. Losing four in a row in this series is unacceptable; It is time to make a statement and re-establish Michigan's excellence. Coach Carr, your job is on the line; There is someone waiting in the wings who is not afraid to roll the dice and get the job done. Put up or shut up time.

No sleep tonight; Tomorrow is a big day.
Let's Go Blue!

Ever have a day where something seems to be missing?

(From Lucky 3: Images: Jem Cohen, Performance: Elliott Smith)

In solidarity with the strike by the WGA (and even though their action means my wife will be without work until the strike is resolved, a fact that we both recognize is less than desirable when pondering our rent checks in the coming months), this blog will featuring a rerun today. I encourage other bloggers to follow the lead of a vocal group of TV bloggers and participate in their own way in this action. I support the WGA and hope that they find an acceptable compromise and resolution soon.

In solidarity,
Tom

The BRM Celebrates Labor Day
(originally posted 9/1/2005)

This weekend is Labor Day weekend, and for many Americans, it is an annual ritual marking the end of the summer; a last chance to wear white, fire up the ol' grill, spend time in the sun, watch Jerry Lewis' annual telethon, and enjoy an extra day off from work with friends and family. But like much of American history, the origins of the holiday are generally misunderstood by the public as just another day off. Labor Day is actually the result of political action.

In 1884, a newly organized U.S. labor movement began demanding an eight-hour workday. When business and the government refused to relent, a general strike began on May 1, 1886 across the U.S. The strike was brutal, especially in Chicago, where workers faced some of the worst working conditions. On May 4, in Chicago's Haymarket Square, workers gathered to protest the violent retaliation of police against the strikers, the police showed up again and someone threw a bomb at them, killing 8 policemen. A riot ensued, and the subsequent crackdown pressed labor's cause forward, ultimately winning the eight-hour workday. In commemoration of the general strike and labor's victory, nations around the world adopted May 1st as International Workers Day. Why did President Cleveland forego May 1st? Cleveland, not wanting to be seen as capitulating to labor's victory, but hoping to avoid the conflict of not honoring American laborers, instead selected the first Monday in September, aligning the national celebration with the Knights of Labor's annual parade in New York City. The move distanced the celebration from commemorating the general strike of 1886. And so, while the rest of the world's workers point to the success of the American general strike of May 1, 1886 as International Worker's Day, Americans now end their summer on what is essentially a federal holiday that has lost its meaning.

When Unions Mattered: An Old Union Rally Poster

Long time readers of The Back Row Manifesto know that I was raised in Flint, MI, which has its own special place in U.S. Labor history. Although the city always had an annual Labor Day celebration and parade, my understanding of what Labor Day means didn't really come until college. Since that time, and having myself been a worker in all kinds of employment situations, I have watched American labor become essentially neutered as union politics have failed miserably, corporations have effectively kept organized labor out of the workplace, and the political concerns of the working man have been co-opted by the moralizing of the right who preach the gospel of deregulation and quality of life while stripping working people of the rights that were so hard won all those years ago. Organized labor has been its own worst enemy, imposing arcane contracts and policies on companies that work in 21st century models, losing tons of local battles, fighting internal corruption, and alienating itself from the real concerns of its membership base. At the same time, as labor has stumbled, the political landscape has changed substantially, to the point where talking about worker's concerns sounds strange; it has literally been removed from the lexicon of public discussion. Meanwhile, the only national holiday meant to celebrate American labor has become just another day in the sun.

I don't want to get too heavy handed about the topic (this is a film blog after all), so in honor of Labor Day, The Back Row Manifesto remembers the fight for worker's rights and the impact those changes have had on our lives with a list of Labor Day films that remind us of what this holiday is all about. Enjoy!

Strike by Sergei Eisenstein (1925)

This film, the first by Russian master Sergei Eisenstein, is the standard bearer for movies about workers and their struggle for worker's rights. That it was made in the Soviet Union under the watchful eye of the Stalin regime only adds to its reputation as pure propaganda, but Eisenstein was known for his feuds with Stalin. The film itself details a strike at a Moscow factory, and uses an interesting blend of vaudevillian comedy, dramatic violence and Eisenstein's revolutionary montage technique to showcase the power of the worker's unity against the selfishness of the greedy bosses. I think the movie is also interesting in its depiction of capitalists; none of them are anything like the benign looking, well-heeled suits working at companies today. For silent films fans, regardless of your political opinions, this is a must see.

It's On DVD, So No Excuses: Eisenstein's Strike

Salt Of The Earth by Herbert Biberman (1954)

In his upcoming Good Night, And Good Luck, George Clooney dramatizes the battle between newsman Edward R. Murrow and Senator Joseph McCarthy, the man responsible for the communist witch hunt of the 1950's. It looks like Clooney has adopted the Arthur Miller approach and gone after current day politicians by using a comparable historical model. Those interested in Clooney's film should grab a copy of Salt Of The Earth, the apotheosis of the McCarthy-era blacklist film. The film is a simple melodrama about a miner's strike, carried out by primarily Latino workers, in a New Mexico town, but the story of the film's production is legendary. The production was relocated many times after several New Mexico towns forcefully prevented filming from taking place, acts of sabotage were committed, and the film had to be shipped out for processing in unlabelled cans in order to avoid destruction of the negative. After its completion, the film was immediately banned and almost everyone who worked on it was blacklisted from Hollywood. And they said it couldn't happen here. Hmm.

Harlan County USA by Barbara Kopple (1976)

Of all the films on this little list, none stands shoulder to shoulder with what I consider to be one of the finest documentaries ever made, Barbara Kopple's stunning Harlan County USA. I remember the first time I saw this movie on video as a teenager; growing up in a big union town, where it was commonplace to see and walk on a picket line, I was literally shocked to see a company employee brandish a handgun and fire at workers on strike. That act of injustice, caught on film and projected on my television screen, did as much to fuel my own sense of right and wrong as any single moment in my life. Recent films detailing the plight of foreign workers, like Life and Debt, show that violence and intimidation in the workplace are absolutely front and center in the 21st century, but like many American jobs, the conditions have been shipped overseas. Harlan County USA is a masterpiece; as dramatic as any fiction but still, all too real.

Workin' In A Coal Mine: Harlan County USA

F.I.S.T by Norman Jewison (1978)

Sylvester Stallone, fresh on the heels of his performance as the ultimate American working class underdog Rocky Balboa, partnered with director Norman Jewison on F.I.S.T, the story of a teamster's rise to power and eventual martyrdom. The film is actually pretty good, a sentence that is required when considering Stallone's post-Rocky body of work. In retrospect, what is really astounding is not F.I.S.T itself, but actually watching Stallone in a movie celebrating organized labor. Someone should look at Stallone's films and trace them against the rise of Reaganism; how could the same man who played Johnny Kovac and Rocky Balboa go on to play Marion Cobretti (which, along with Snake Pliskin in Escape From New York, is possibly my favorite character name in film) in Cobra and John Rambo in First Blood AND WRITE THE SCREENPLAYS?!?! Wow. It is a long way to the top.

Norma Rae by Martin Ritt (1979)

I am going to pitch you a storyline and you tell me if the movie would be made today: A single mother of two, working in a southern textile factory, becomes fed up with the working conditions in her plant and finds empowerment as a woman and as a leader by organizing her co-workers to join a union. Let's get real; no one in Hollywood would dream of touching Norma Rae today, but in 1979, the film won two Oscars and made Sally Field into a star. The film is as good as it gets in Hollywood and stands as one of the best examples of the labor movement in film. I defy anyone not to get goose bumps when Norma holds up the Union sign; it is a singular moment in movies. Films like Erin Brockovich owe a big debt to Norma Rae's consciousness raising message, but no film since has truly captured the personal passion of the fight for unionization and worker's rights. Who could have guessed the film would be labor's swan song?

There Is Power In A Union: Sally Field in Norma Rae

Silkwood by Mike Nichols (1983)

We have all had bosses we've hated. My personal favorite was a buffoon in a toupée I worked for who, knowing nothing about the internet, decided he should be the CEO of a dot com start up. He then sabotaged meetings I held with developers by asking questions like "I have to know... Will this website work on the internet AND the information super highway?" And I admit, when you work for someone like that, there are days, several days, where the thought of a possible meeting between the boss and the front of a bus moving at 40 miles an hour might be a satisfying experience. I'm sure the feeling was mutual.

In all seriousness, one of the most moving films ever made about the violence inherent in the process of exposing corporate misdeeds is Mike Nichol's telling of Karen Silkwood's story. Silkwood was a real-life worker at a metallurgy plant who was purposefully exposed to radiation, began a whistle blowing campaign, and was killed (or had an accident) en route to a meeting with a New York Times writer on the verge of exposing the horrors at the Kerr-McGee plant where she worked. Meryl Streep is exceptional in the leading role, Nichols' direction is outstanding, and the film is a powerful indictment of the lengths private industry can go to protect their interests.

Matewan by John Sayles (1987)

I love this film and rank it first among John Sayles' work. The story of Wobbly union organizer Joe Kenehan (Chris Cooper) and his quest to organize West Virginia coal miners into the IWW union in the 1920's. By having the audacity to organize, the workers set off a war with management. Yes, a war; men with guns trying to kill each other, often with great success. The film is an excellent period piece, capturing the challenges of organizing uneducated workers, paid with company money, living in the company town, to fight against their well-armed bosses. There is also an element of High Noon at play in the film, and the final showdown between the Pinkerton army of thugs and the union men is a shattering expose of the life and death stakes of labor organizing at the time. Outstanding.

Roger & Me by Michael Moore (1989)

Home sweet home. This film sent shockwaves through my hometown when it was released in 1989. I was still in High School, but many of the faces in the film were familiar to me and certainly the economic situation in Flint was something I knew very well; stories about General Motors and its pullout from Flint were daily news. Michael Moore was also a well known person in the community; the former publisher of the Michigan Voice had been a local raconteur for years, and many Flintstones saw Roger & Me as an extension of Moore's muckraking journalism and an attempt to make our town look a foolish example of incompetent management, silly citizens, and bad civic ideas run amok. But guess what; Flint in the late 1980's was all of those things. It still is. I return home several times a year and still write a film column for the local independent newspaper, but Flint is a jewel in the crown of late 20th century industrial change; the city that founded the United Auto Workers union, left in the ruins of its former glory. I give Moore kudos for exposing it.

Just Doin' His Job: Deputy Fred Gets Ready For Another Eviction in Michael Moore's Roger & Me

American Dream by Barbara Kopple (1991)

Barbara Kopple follows her masterpiece with a powerful example of how much things had changed in labor; the fight to unionize on display in Harlan County USA comes face to face with the impact of Reganomics at a Hormel meat plant in Minnesota in American Dream. The film is simply devastating; After turning a $30 million profit for the year, the Hormel company asked its employees to take a two dollar an hour pay cut. When the union decides to engage in a long, bitter strike to fight the pay cut, the will of the workers is sorely tested. What American Dream really represents is a shift in the landscape; by 1991, the only people who deserve to benefit from corporate profitability are shareholders and executives. The shift in value from rewarding workers for profitability into slashing the workforce and payrolls to shift value solely to investors is at the heart of the film's dilemma, conditions that are commonplace in the labor market today. That is a short, fast and tragic road from Harlan County USA and sets the stage for the WorldComs and Enrons of the world.

Darwin's Nightmare by Hubert Sauper (2005)

What is the old movie trailer tagline? "If you see only one documentary this year, make it Darwin's Nightmare!" Amen to that. I have already documented my thoughts on the film, but if you want to see the front lines of 21st Century labor, look no further than the developing world. Darwin's Nightmare has it all; the companies using natural resources to create high-value exports, taking the money out of the country and leaving the local economy in tatters. Looking back from atop America's perch atop the economic food chain here in the late 21st century, from Eisenstein to Darwin's Nightmare, it is impossible to describe how much the world of work, our idea of labor and its just rewards has changed and how much has stayed the same elsewhere in the world. This Labor Day, reflect for amoment and take the long view; remember why this Monday is a true national holiday.

Earlier this week, the Mrs. and I looked at our upcoming schedules (busy!) and made a last moment decision to grab tickets for the Wooster Group's Hamlet, which today enters the second week of its run at the Public Theater here in New York. I have only seen a few of the legendary theater company's shows in the past, but I consider myself a fan; The company's use of multimedia and their, well, deconstruction of theater itself expands in scope and power with each performance, and their take on Hamlet is a compelling examination of the intersection between history, film and theater.

First, for my friends who are not into the whole postmodernism thing, let me begin by addressing a common criticism that somehow, deconstruction provides little more than an empty onanistic platform for pretentious nonsense. I know that the idea of engaging a text (be it a film, a play, a book or anything) by taking it apart and examining the multiple meanings within, the form, function and inherent contradiction that can exist within a single work, can be alienating for those simply not interested in examination at all. There may be something to be said for mindless consumption (although I am not sure what it is), but I have always thought of deconstruction as a way of seeing things, a way of rejecting the implied authority of an author's role that ultimately enriches a work by opening it up to the whole world. So often, I recognize the disconnect between my own primary tendency to dig into works and their meanings from an emotional and personal point of view and the way in which others see things. I use that emotional moment as a jumping off point, and seeing a film or play or reading a book a first time, I allow myself the pleasurable experience of simply feeling. But if there were ever a case to be made for my own commitment multiple viewings, it is that I do believe strongly in deconstructing art; Every viewing enriches the levels and layers of meaning encased within a single text and I actually enjoy discovering those levels. It is one of the principle pleasures of thinking. The Wooster Group's Hamlet takes the most venerated text in Western Literature, William Shakespeare's Hamlet*, and uses it as a platform for deconstructing the modern theater itself, live, right before our very eyes. Let me do my best to unpack what Director Elizabeth LeCompte and her amazing company are up to...

PART I: WHAT IS NOT REALLY HAPPENING

The company's previous play, Poor Theater, carried a revealing subtitle which has a direct bearing on this production of Hamlet and probably on the Wooster Group's philosophy about acting; "A Series of Simulacra", wherein the actors become, in the case of Poor Theater, simulations of the cast of Polish theater Director Jerzy Grotowoski and their production of Akropolis. (which is represented by a video of the performance which the Wooster cast acts out simultaneously) and the company of ex-pat choreographer William Forsythe (and the man himself). I want to point to Ben Brantley's review of Poor Theater in The New York Times as a jumping off point to discuss Hamlet. Two plays talking to one another through the voice of a critic, a way of describing both by inaccuracy. This will serve as your plot summary. Let's go...

"When artists imitate one another, it isn't only the sincerest form of flattery. Nor is imitation necessarily a symptom of a lack of original ideas, though the recent histories of Broadway and Hollywood might lead you to think so. As the Wooster Group demonstrates with wit, warmth, humility and, yes, sincere flattery in Poor Theater... imitation can be a hopeful attempt to crawl into the skin of someone else and see how it fits. This is not, for the record, always a comfortable activity... Poor Theater finds a company famous for deconstruction in the reconstructive mode of literal impersonation..." -- Ben Brantley, The New York Times, September 29, 2006

Let me stop him there for a moment (or in the parlance of this Hamlet's video screen... "Pause"). The word I want to focus on here is impersonation. Remember that word. Impersonation. Got it? Ok, start again. "Play".

"Unlike the company's masterly deconstructions of plays by Eugene O'Neill, Poor Theater involves a measure of collective navel gazing. Its self-consciousness can feel, on occasion, overly precious and insidery... Art is a religion for the members of the Wooster Group. Like all good churchgoers, they understand that precisely observed rituals can sometimes allow you a glimpse of heaven."--Ben Brantley, The New York Times, September 29, 2006

"Pause" again. OK, another word to remember is the hyphenate self-consciousness. Self-consciousness. "Fast Forward". Brantley's review of Hamlet. "Play."

"The mesmerizing ghost of Richard Burton, at the height of his fame, materializes and dissolves again and again in the Wooster Group’s meticulous re-creation of a production of Hamlet staged on Broadway 43 years ago, starring Burton and directed by John Gielgud..." -- Ben Brantley, The New York Times, November 1, 2007

"Pause." New words: meticulous re-creation. Stay with me, this is going somewhere I promise. "Play."

"This downtown troupe’s sometimes ravishing, often numbing homage to a fabled theatrical event turns Burton’s performance as the Prince of Denmark into a tantalizing on-screen disappearing act...The technical team of the Wooster Group has massaged a filmed version of the Burton Hamlet, which had a brief theatrical release, into a liquid, black-and-white canvas of evaporating forms and faintly heard voices... This Hamlet, which places mimetic live performances before the grainy, wall-filling screen version, is much more than an overextended visual pun. As the actors...try to give flesh to the fading phantoms behind them, the production becomes an aching tribute to the ephemerality of greatness in theater. For how could anyone without a fully equipped time machine hope to summon exactly the experience of Burton on the stage of the Lunt-Fontanne Theater in the spring of 1964...? What crackles and sparks in the air of live theater can seem quaint and lifeless when captured directly on film, a fact of which Ms. LeCompte and company are well aware... The Wooster Group’s own Hamlet is largely a gesture-by-gesture duplication of what’s happening on the screen behind. When, that is, you can make out what’s happening on the screen, where the actors have a way of suddenly fading into nothing but a pair of illuminated eyes or simply nothing at all, and where the whole mise-en-scène can suddenly turn snowy. Any sense of what Burton’s Hamlet was really like becomes as unreliable and mutable as memory." -- Ben Brantley, The New York Times, November 1, 2007

"Stop." A couple of new words now. Homage, duplication and unreliable. So, let me summarize. Through these two plays, The Wooster Group are employing the following devices and strategies in their relationship to a source "text" which they integrate into their performances:

Impersonation
Self-Consciousness
Meticulous Re-Creation
Homage
Duplication
Unreliable (and here, I think he means in the postmodern sense).

I'm going to draw a line here and talk about what is really happening on the stage, because I think Brantley who is, let's face it, the most important theater critic in America, has got it all wrong on this one. He's making a common mistake and it is important we get it right because Brantley himself holds the role of high priest of mimetic functionality; I heard his words repeated and grumbled by audience members, echoing throughout the intermission. Say a Times review doesn't matter and I'll point you to a vast sea of received opinion trapped in the echo chamber of New York's theater patrons, endlessly cycling back, word for word! I shit you not. It would be nice to at least hear the parroting of the play's actual strategy. Whit Stillman had it right; "I don't read books. I only read literary criticism." Exactly. Oh, right. I was drawing a line...

____

PART II: WHAT GOES ON

The Wooster Group's production of William Shakespeare's Hamlet is a theatrical palimpsest, a presentation whereby a selective history of Hamlet sits on one stage, together, the ink of the past bleeding into the live performance of today. Parts are erased and written over, visible as fragments. The past is recycled, repurposed, reimagined while in partial view. It is also, primarily, a ghost story, a haunting interpretation where the etherial specter of Hamlet's history as a performed piece of theater rides shotgun with the paternal visitations of Hamlet's dead father; Hamlet, haunted by the ghost of itself.

The play begins when Scott Shepherd, who is playing Hamlet, cautiously walks on stage while the house lights are still up (and people are still finding their seats) and begins conversationally talking to the audience and the technical team about the video projection of John Gielgud's 1964 production of Hamlet (starring Richard Burton as Hamlet) that sits behind him, paused on the video monitors and the large screen at the back of the stage. "Fast forward past this until we get to the ghost," our present day Hamlet says, staring into a monitor on the floor before commenting on one of the actors passing by at eight-times normal speed "That's Barnard Hughes," Hamlet says. "He was in Midnight Cowboy." Together, the audience and Hamlet watch the screen as the images run by in fast forward and the house lights slowly dim. Finally, we settle upon the first ghostly visitation in Hamlet and slowly, a few words at a time, Shepherd's Hamlet begins to simulate the 1964 version, which shakes and stutters on the screen, rewinding a few frames and jumping a few frames ahead, Shepherd capturing these artificial, manufactured ticks and hiccups both physically and verbally.

Hamlet (Photo by Paula Court)

And soon, the play is in full swing. Shepherd is joined by the rest of cast, and as their immersion into the simulation of the video image (itself a simulation of the live theatrical experience of Gielgud's play --a very important distinction) grows deeper, new techniques emerge. Most interesting to me was the way that the cast literalizes cinematic technique by showing the artificiality of cinematic perspective, editing, the use of cross-cutting, etc. When an edit is made in the film, the cast physically recreates the shift in perspective on stage; The staging is racked in and out by actors and stage hands physically moving pieces of the set (and themselves) closer to and then further away from the audience. For example, when, in the Gielgud video, a master shot becomes a two-shot filmed from a position to the side of the stage, all of the live actors pivot, the subjects simulate the two-shot by suddenly coming center, downstage and together, and the rest of the stage is repositioned to simulate the perspective of the video image. Sometimes it happens so quickly in the editing of the film that the actors shuffle inches forward and back in a matter of seconds, take trips halfway down the stairs before adjusting to perspective and climbing them again to simulate height, etc. This being a Wooster Group performance, the integration of the Wooster's own video tricks and techniques eventually enter the fray; Most significantly, the technicians digitally remove images from the 1964 video in order to highlight a single gesture, piece of clothing, or a hand as it is simulated by the actors on stage. By the middle of the play's second half, with Ari Fliakos and Casey Spooner terrific in several roles each and Kate Valk's great doubling of Gertrude (Hamlet's mother) and Ophelia (what would Freud say about that?), the technique doubles back on itself so that we are now inside of a mobius strip of Hamlets and Hamlets, meanings and interpretations, while still being essentially in Hamlet itself. The best example? At the end of The Player's unwitting simulation of Claudius' supposed murder of his brother and Hamlet's father (written for them by Hamlet himself to catch his step-father's reaction to seeing his own crime), you're suddenly watching a play simulating an actual murder in the past, placed within a play within a video within a play within a play simulating a video of a play in the past. And then, suddenly on the screen, Ophelia and Gertrude engage in a conversation; Since the brilliant Kate Valk is playing both roles in two separate costumes, Shepherd's Hamlet, author of the play within the play, looks to the audience with a concerned face before saying "We better skip past all this Ophelia stuff" and the film fast forwards on the screen letting Valk, the actress within the play, off the hook. And that is the moment you realize exactly what this production of Hamlet is really all about.

"Fast Forward."

Hamlet (Photo by Paula Court)

PART III: WHAT'S HAPPENING

The vast difference between mimesis/simulation and homage/impersonation/re-creation is crucial to understanding the intended meaning of Le Compte's production of Hamlet (I put a note in below, so that I can better explain the importance of this distinction without bogging things down for those who know better already. See the ** at the bottom of this post.) Ben Brantley's reviews of The Wooster Group productions I referenced above do not grasp this distinction and instead misrepresent the action on the stage (which is intended to be a mimetic but wholly integrated, self-contained and original work on art in itself) as being the equivalent of re-creation through impersonation. The key to this misunderstanding is in a sentence I did not comment on previously, when Brantley writes

"...the actors...try to give flesh to the fading phantoms behind them, the production becomes an aching tribute to the ephemerality of greatness in theater. For how could anyone without a fully equipped time machine hope to summon exactly the experience of Burton on the stage of the Lunt-Fontanne Theater in the spring of 1964...?"

Well, no one could "hope to summon exactly the experience." Isn't that the point? That is exactly what the play is not; An homage to the greatness of Gielgud's production and to Richard Burton's performance that tries to "give flesh" to the past. If that were the case, why would the company constantly subvert the film of the play (or use a film of the play at all?) Instead, why not study the film and then re-stage the play movement for movement, scene for scene, gesture for gesture, inflection for inflection in cold, patient submission to the original performance? That would be a "meticulous re-creation". Obviously, The Wooster Group is up to something else entirely. It is interesting to note that Brantley's own interest in the Wooster production wanes the more the Group intensifies the techniques of mimesis and literalized simulation:

"Yet what is of such priceless worth in this production — the evocation of the longing to know what a past performance was like — is established with great eloquence early on. I was quite happy (and occasionally rapturous) during the show’s first half. But by its second, I felt it had crossed the line from hypnotic into narcotic."

Well, that is because what is of "such priceless worth in this production" is not "the evocation of longing to know what a past performance was like", but instead the physical reality and transparent interplay between a filmed version of a play and its incorporation into a living, breathing piece of theater, here, right now. This Hamlet is not about nostalgia for a sexy, young Richard Burton but instead about the malleability of Hamlet itself, its themes and meanings, its characters and the way in which these actors (the living ones in the play you're watching) carry the weight of the text itself alongside the innumerable temporal and unknowable representations that came before them. Here, the role of simulation is not to flatter the filmed versions (plural) of Hamlet (which, in this performance, included a hilarious appearance by Charlton Heston in Kenneth Brannagh's version and the voice of Bill Murray in Michael Almereyda's version) through impersonation, but instead to break apart the role of the actor, of technique, through the use of simulation, of becoming a character that is precisely another actor's interpretation of a character. Which is to say, the only thing more artificial than the manipulated, ghostly filmed version of Gielgud's version of Hamlet on display in this play is the idea that somewhere in time, Gielgud's version carried some primal authenticity or authority. The opposite is true; The Wooster's Hamlet takes Hamlet apart, calling the entire enterprise into question by showing just how transmutable theater is, how maleable a text (a play, a film, a performance) can be, and how tradition and authority are very much open to question.

Which, not surprisingly, is what Hamlet himself is all about. As played by Scott Shepherd, the young prince is a Puckish control freak who seems to be engaging in a present-day act of autobiography, taking the audience past the parts of his own story he finds unnecessary like a kid with ADD. He doesn't honor the past, he wants to make his case, assure himself and get his revenge (Burton, Claudius, whoever!!!) Shepherd is a propulsive actor, and his most illuminating moments come not when he is aping Richard Burton, but when he is undermining Burton's strange and sometimes stilted delivery. It is clear that Burton himself came from the school of "memorize it and say it fast" Shakespearean acting and, listening to him duel (or dual) with Shepherd on some of the most famous lines in the history of theater, you can't help but think Burton was drawing bold, knowing underlines with his delivery. The monologues, with Burton's stilted stops and starts, strange moments of laughter and imposing physical stature offer Shepherd the opportunity to create a winking alternative to Burton's Hamlet as they battle for our attention and for supremacy on the same stage. Hamlet's interiority, his self-consciousness, is made hauntingly manifest in this almost schizophrenic relationship between Shepherd and Burton as the young Prince heads toward his fateful showdown with his father's ghost and his new step-father. All of those monologues, all of that talking to himself, now physically manifest in the rivalry between two Hamlets. Isn't it true, after all, that Hamlet is playing a role, that of the dutiful son, in order to see his plot through? Perhaps the ghost of the Burton Hamlet is how Shepherd's Hamlet imagines himself, his inner self, while the world around him is something else entirely.

Hamlet (Photo by Paula Court)

Ultimately, watching Hamlet dissolve into something new and exciting before your very eyes is an exhilarating experience, but I can understand why people might find the whole enterprise overwhelming; There is so much richness in this production, so much to think about. At the same time, isn't that the point? Shouldn't art engage us on all of these levels, shouldn't we be transported through time and back again, through places within ourselves as well as manufactured, external places? For me, The Wooster Group's production of Hamlet opened up a new way of looking at the play, a continuum of meaning that will only grow from here. The play is the thing. Bravo.

Ben Niles' beautiful documentary Note By Note (The Making of Steinway L1037) opens Wednesday at Film Forum. The film, which won the Jury Prize for Best Documentary Film at the 2007 Sarasota Film Festival, is a tremendous accomplishment; It is a film about work, about physical labor and its intersection with artistry, that celebrates the beauty of craftsmanship.

Note By Note (The Making of Steinway L1037)

As a programmer, I try to keep an even keel about films that play at our festival; I love them all like my children. But Ben Niles has made a film that really spoke to me personally, both on an aesthetic and on a political level. As our culture marches onward towards all things disposable and mass-produced, I found it really refreshing to see a film that shows the almost tragic beauty of a dying form of production. As much as it is a celebration of the Steinway piano as an instrument through which artists are able to play beautiful music, Note By Note can also be read as a film about best practices in labor and manufacturing. The movie will endure because it captures this near-utopian community of working people (I've never seen a happier, prouder group of workers in my life) at the precise moment when their craft and collaborative spirit seems on the verge of extinction. The trailer is below; I cannot recommend the movie highly enough and I hope that readers will take some time to head to Film Forum and see it on the big screen. It is a movie that deserves both an audience and a thoughtful discussion. Hope to see you there!

(A Contribution To The Reeler's Totally Unrelated Blog-A-Thon)

If I can be said to have any heroes, the American thinkers of the late 19th century are probably near the top of my list. One man in particular holds a fascination for me; One of the greatest thinkers America has ever produced, Charles Peirce is a man whose work and strange, tragic life proved a tremendous inspiration for me when I got to study just a little bit about him back in my college days. Peirce worked in extreme poverty and obscurity for the majority of his life, scraping together an existence in his home in Milford, PA* and never stopping his work. What I find most romantic about Perice, aside from the importance of his ideas which ranged from developing the initial theory of semiotics (which has had a deep impact on how I see the world, no pun intended) to his discovery of how electrical currents can carry out logical functions (the grandfather of today's computer processors), is the life he lead; Huddled like a secret in an old house, working like mad to understand the world around him, flourishing in absolute obscurity only to have his ideas rediscovered and validated years after his death. He was deeply dedicated to logic, to science and mathematics and to rational inquiry, and when I read a few of his works in my early twenties, his skepticism and commitment to logical analysis struck a deep chord in me. This passage in particular;

"Above all, let it be considered that what is more wholesome than any particular belief is integrity of belief, and that to avoid looking into the support of any belief from a fear that it may turn out rotten is quite as immoral as it is disadvantageous. The person who confesses that there is such a thing as truth, which is distinguished from falsehood simply by this, that if acted on it should, on full consideration, carry us to the point we aim at and not astray, and then, though convinced of this, dares not know the truth and seeks to avoid it, is in a sorry state of mind indeed."-- Charles Peirce, The Fixation of Belief Popular Science Monthly 12 (November 1877)

Which, if I may, summarizes perfectly for me the problem with American life today. The truth, the pursuit of truth through the integrity of belief, has become undermined by the inversion of rational thinking; Desire has replaced reason. We are a nation of ideas born of conclusions, where beliefs are inherited and then presented prima facie. An example? The government demands that we go to war and then manufactures the premise. The desire becomes the reason. We call it preemptive war, a secondary inversion that is seen as a natural progression of ideas. Collectively, the nation embraces this decision making process because, to my eyes, it has a fundamental affinity to another brand of reasoning-inversion which still holds this country in its sway; Faith.
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When I was nine years old, my maternal grandmother took me to another in a long line of Sunday services at St. John's Episcopal church in Mt. Pleasant, MI. I don't remember when it happened, but I do know that sometime, during one of any number of Holy Eucharist Rite II services at that lovely little church that year, I stopped believing in god. What began in me as serious doubt about the veracity of religion's claims has, in the intervening years, blossomed into full-blown atheism. I am proud of my atheism, of my refusal to let the conventions of polite company force me to give passes to reason-free thinking, but I have to admit, the 21st century has been a tremendous challenge for me as, day after day, I watch the parade of intellectual dishonesty, emotional pandering and political grandstanding march by without an organized, rational response from free-thinking people in this country. What times are these in which we live? How can it be that when confronted with the insanity of fundamentalist religious extremism, our society responds like for like?

What continues to trouble me about faith in America is the way in which the right to believe is mistaken for veracity of belief itself. Despite some refreshing nastiness on his part, Christopher Hitchens describes the problem quite eloquently in his book god is not Great when he says

"Our belief is not belief. Our principles are not a faith. We do not rely solely upon science and reason, because these are necessary rather than sufficient factors, but we distrust anything that contradicts science or outrages reason... We are not immune to the lure of wonder and mystery and awe: we have music and art and literature... Most important of all, perhaps, we do not need any machinery of reinforcement." -- Hitchens, god is not Great (pgs, 5-6)

and although we do not need "any machinery of enforcement", we do need some effort to be made to win the war against enforced ignorance. It is truly a strange time to be alive when truth and the pursuit of truth has become negotiable because of the application of rational 'aping' to lend superstitions a false sense of rational authority. This is the most jaw-dropping technique that I see in our culture, more so for its audacious ineptitude at actually applying the rules of logic than for the crowd of true believers who accept the bullshit parade. My favorite current example of this Barnum-esque hucksterism is The Creation Museum which, in an attempt to lend credibility to an impossibly false understanding of the world, tries to mimic the tropes of a natural history museum (and apparently, a movie studio theme park) in order to showcase the veracity of the idea that the world is only 6,000 years old. This is America after all, the land where money is proof, and no expense has been spared at The Creation Museum to spend as much as possible in order to prove that the creation myth in the book of Genesis is literal truth. Browsing the museum's website, I found a lovely testimonial that sums things up with a neat and tidy bow:

"As a result of hearing Ken Ham speak … I decided to quit avoiding the descrepancy (sic) between Genesis and ‘science’, and look into the question(s) head on. Your organization has been a tremendous help—I now completely accept God’s Word in Genesis and feel led/equipped to carry the message of Truth further in my own life, work and church.’ – Supporter from Virginia (USA)

Did you catch that nice little rhetorical move? The supporter feels "led" to "carry the message of truth" after looking into the discrepancy between Genesis and... wait for it... science. The best part? The supporter chose Genesis! I would really love to see what "help" The Creation Museum provided as the supporter "looked into the questions head on." That inquiry, that "looking into the questions head on" is, of course, the crucial information that is missing from the discourse. No nonsensical rejection of actual logic would be complete without making claims for truth; Co-opting the language of reason is simply another way of undermining reason itself.

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I've given a lot of thought as to whether or not I should have posted this bit of thinking, but I am tired of feeling like I should somehow hide my appreciation for reason while deferring to what I consider to be the undermining influence of popular irrationality. We have a national election coming up in the next year, and I know that the campaign trail is going to be littered with pandering and ridiculous situations where we ask our future leaders to respond empathetically to all sorts of irrelevant nonsense. This is perhaps the most troubling issue of all; Instead of a sober examination of the myriad of issues that our next President will inherit, the parade of crazy "what if" scenarios cultivated from television program scripts and skirting of real dialogue in favor of calculated sympathizing with superstitious concerns will continue on, unabated. It feels like a surreal dream, as if the impossible reality of an Orwell novel has somehow begun to bloom in the world around us. It is a long road to reconciliation for our society and the integrity of belief. But it is one we must travel, together.

* One day, when I was out at the MoMA Film Archive visiting a friend who worked there, we drove past Peirce's house, which has a historical landmark designation. I took a few photos which were lost in my computer's hard drive crash a few years ago, but it was pretty amazing to stumble upon Peirce's house like that, driving down a two-lane highway in a small Pennsylvania town. A lovely little moment for me.