Academy Awards ballot

Here is a ballot for tonight's Oscar ceremony featuring all the categories.

The Indie Spirit Award Winners

Yesterday the Indie Spirit Awards were presented. Although they are not great prognosticators for tonight's Oscars, there are a lot of crossover films and artists for both shows.  Some of the winners were genuine surprises, but isn't that what indie films should do: surprise us by doing it in an unexpected way? Here are the nominees and winners in most major categories:

Best FeatureEIGHTH GRADE
FIRST REFORMED
IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK (WINNER)
LEAVE NO TRACE
YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE

Best Director
Debra Granik, LEAVE NO TRACE
Barry Jenkins, IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK (WINNER)
Tamara Jenkins, PRIVATE LIFE
Lynne Ramsay, YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE
Paul Schrader, FIRST REFORMED

Best First Feature
HEREDITARY
SORRY TO BOTHER YOU (WINNER)
THE TALE
WE THE ANIMALS
WILDLIFE

Best Male Lead
John Cho, SEARCHING
Daveed Diggs, BLINDSPOTTING
Ethan Hawke, FIRST REFORMED (WINNER)
Christian Malheiros, SÓCRATES
Joaquin Phoenix, YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE

Best Female Lead
Glenn Close, THE WIFE (WINNER)
Toni Collette, HEREDITARY
Elsie Fisher, EIGHTH GRADE
Regina Hall, SUPPORT THE GIRLS
Helena Howard, MADELINE’S MADELINE
Carey Mulligan, WILDLIFE

Best Supporting Female ActorKayli Carter, PRIVATE LIFE
Tyne Daly, A BREAD FACTORY
Regina King, IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK (WINNER)
Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie, LEAVE NO TRACE
J. Smith-Cameron, NANCY

Best Supporting Male ActorRaúl Castillo, WE THE ANIMALS
Adam Driver, BLACKKKLANSMAN
Richard E. Grant, CAN YOU EVER FORGIVE ME? (WINNER)
Josh Hamilton, EIGHTH GRADE
John David Washington, MONSTERS AND MEN

Best Cinematography
Ashley Connor, MADELINE’S MADELINE
Diego Garcia, WILDLIFE
Benjamin Loeb, MANDY
Sayombhu Mukdeeprom, SUSPIRIA (WINNER)
Zak Mulligan, WE THE ANIMALS

Best Screenplay(Writer/Story By)
Rebecca Lenkiewicz & Wash Westmoreland, COLETTE
Nicole Holofcener & Jeff Whitty, CAN YOU EVER FORGIVE ME? (WINNER)
Tamara Jenkins, PRIVATE LIFE
Boots Riley, SORRY TO BOTHER YOU
Paul Schrader FIRST REFORMED

Best First Screenplay
Bo Burnham, EIGHTH GRADE (WINNER)
Christina Choe, NANCY
Cory Finley, THOROUGHBREDS
Jennifer Fox, THE TALE
Quinn Shephard (Writer/Story By) and Laurie Shephard (Story By), BLAME

Best Editing
Joe Bini, YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE (WINNER)
Keiko Deguchi, Brian A. Kates & Jeremiah Zagar, WE THE ANIMALS
Luke Dunkley, Nick Fenton, Chris Gill & Julian Hart, AMERICAN ANIMALS
Anne Fabini, Alex Hall and Gary Levy, THE TALE
Nick Houy, MID90S

Best DocumentaryHALE COUNTY THIS MORNING, THIS EVENING
MINDING THE GAP
OF FATHERS AND SONS
ON HER SHOULDERS
SHIRKERS
WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR? (WINNER)

Best International FilmBURNING (South Korea)
THE FAVOURITE (United Kingdom)
HAPPY AS LAZZARO (Italy)
ROMA (Mexico) (WINNER)
SHOPLIFTERS (Japan)

The Robert Altman Award, whose previous winners included Spotlight (2015) and Moonlight (2016), interestingly went to SUSPIRIA, a film by Luca Guadagnino, a remake of Dario Argento's 1977 horror film. I was very surprised by this honor.  Although there were some unforgettable scenes in this film, Guadagnino's take ended up being an overblown and over-long rumination on Argento's classic.

Robert Altman Award
SUSPIRIA
Director: Luca Guadagnino
Casting Directors: Avy Kaufman, Stella Savino
Ensemble Cast: Malgosia Bela, Ingrid Caven, Lutz Ebersdorf, Elena Fokina, Mia Goth, Jessica Harper, Dakota Johnson, Gala Moody, Chloë Grace Moretz, Renée Soutendijk, Tilda Swinton, Sylvie Testud, Angela Winkler

Verdi's FALSTAFF at the MET

The creative work of an older artist is usually a very personal statement; the creative work of an older genius carries us to a place we have not been before, and that includes transporting the artist himself. And so it is with Giuseppe Verdi, who after a life in the theater, and a self-imposed retirement, came back to the limelight to re-examine the work of another genius: William Shakespeare, a playwright whose work preoccupied the composer from the early Macbeth (Verdi did not read the play until he composed the opera, basing his music on the libretto of Francesco Maria Piave) to Otello and the final Falstaff, both of them blessed with libretti by Arrigo Boito.

Last night the MET revived the Robert Carsen production of Verdi's last opera. The production updates the work to the post World War II era, or as the program indicates "during the reign of Elizabeth II," a decision that works most of the time. Utilizing a unit set, the Garter Inn morphs into the kind of stuffy 1950s gentleman's club where no women are allowed, so needless to say the appearance of Mistress Quickly (Marie-Nicole Lemieux) sends the club members running out the door. When Ford (Juan Jesús Rodríguez) disguises himself as Mr. "Fontana" he comes in looking like a Texas oil baron, and Alice's kitchen, where a mini-riot hurls Falstaff out the window and into the Thames River, looks like a technicolor colorization of I Love Lucy. On the other hand, Herne's Oak was minimalist with only a starry sky to denote the outdoors.

But what would this production be without Ambrogio Maestri? The man owns the role of Falstaff hands down, and he has sung it around the world, along with so many other roles, including Baron Scarpia in Tosca at Las Palmas, Michele in Il Tabarro at the Bavarian State Opera, and Germont in La Traviata in Tokyo. Earlier this season at the MET he was heartbreaking as Michonnet in Adriana Lecouvreur. He is one of our most gifted character singers, and his resonant, ample baritone fills the house.  It's very exciting to watch a singer so invested in a role.

The MET has surrounded him with a variety of talented singing actors for this revival, stand-outs include Golda Schultz, a sweet Nannetta, and the aforementioned Mr. Rodríguez who was excellent as Ford. Ms. Lemieux's deep contralto made an excellent Quickly, but her acting was a bit schticky and over the top, "more matter with less art," as the Bard himself would say.  The orchestra under the baton of debuting conductor Richard Farnes was its usual excellent ensemble.  All in all, it's a revival not to be missed, and if this opera is a new venture for you, this ensemble will surely make it memorable.

It's OSCAR Time!

It's that time of the year! After a loopy, confusing pre-Oscar season complete with the postponement of an Oscar category which made little sense, and an announcement that certain categories would not be televised (another mistake that was rapidly rectified), we are limping towards the big day this Sunday, still with no host. In recent memory this is the first time that the ceremony will not be hosted by one person.

Still, Oscar night is Oscar night, no matter who hosts, and the awarding of this fabled statuette still matters in Tinsel Town. So, here are my predictions in the main categories.

BEST PICTURE: Whatever you might think of this art film, hands down, Roma will take the big prize, and it just might be a Mexican fiesta, with Alfonso Cuarón's film taking multiple prizes.

BEST ACTOR: After winning just about every award prior to Oscar night, including the Golden Globes and the SAG, 37 year old Rami Malek will become one of the youngest Oscar recipients for his impersonation of Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody.

BEST ACTRESS: This is a tough one. Will Oscar award Olivia Colman for her beautiful performance in The Favourite, or will they give it to Glenn Close for a lifetime of great achievement? Oscar has a track record of doing this again and again? I think this just might be Ms. Close's year!

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: Another tough category! Mahershala Ali already won this category for Moonlight, but his performance in Green Book was praised by critics and audiences alike.  It's also a feel good movie, and the character he plays is very likeable; so I predict Mr. Ali will follow Denzel Washington to become the second African American actor to win two Oscars.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: The ladies from The Favourite (Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone) despite their fine performances, will cancel each other out. Marina de Tavira's role in Roma was small. This category is between Regina King (If Beale Street Could Talk) and Amy Adams (Vice). Being a huge Adams fan, I'm going with her this year.

BEST DIRECTOR: Here's what we have: Yorgos Lanthimos, an arthouse Greek filmmaker whose third English language film The Favourite is probably his most accessible work. Paweł Pawlikowski, who already won an Oscar for his masterful Ida, and whose Cold War is an artistic followup to that film, is a strong contender. Adam McKay, whose Vice was popular and well distributed is a long shot; and Spike Lee and his hip socio-political "joint" BlacKkKlansman has brought the Brooklyn filmmaker back to the forefront. Oh, Oscar, you make it difficult!  Oh yeah! I forgot! The winner will be Alfonso Cuarón!

And here are the rest of my predictions:

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY: I'm hoping that the Oscar goes to the most beautifully shot film this year: the black-and-white, Academy Ratio Cold War.  However, Roma, another black-and-white beauty, might just take this prize as well.

ANIMATED FEATURE: No contest!  It's going to be Spider-Man into the Spider-Verse.

BEST DOCUMENTARY: In this political climate RBG is sure to win.

BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM: Could it be that Roma will get both Best Film as well as this award?  It's possible, but I will be happy if either Japan's Shoplifters or Poland's Cold War take the prize.

BEST SCREENPLAY: What a category this year! All great scripts, although Roma will defeat them all. However, it could happen that either The Favourite or Green Book can spoil the Roma juggernaut.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: Here is where one of our great auteurs, Spike Lee finally gets his well-deserved Oscar for a lifetime of making movies his way.

The Oscar ceremony will be broadcast on ABC, Sunday February 24 at 8:00pm ET.

NETWORK on Broadway with Bryan Cranston

Network, the new adaptation of the Paddy Chayefsky screenplay, now playing at the Belasco Theatre, is all about watching. The arriving audience is greeted with a peek at a thespian's workout before a show. Actors on yoga mats stretching, exercising, and doing all an actor does to get into character now on display onstage. Director Ivo van Hove satisfies our inherent curiosities about show business while instantly making us voyeurs even before the first line of the play is uttered. And when the play does start, a giant screen upstage begins to capture it all in an HD hyper-reality. The TV images making the live performances before us almost secondary.

It’s satisfying to watch Bryan Cranston give what might just be the performance of a lifetime as Howard Beale, the veteran news anchor at the end of his rope, thinking of ending it all live on the air. A performance that has been finely crafted after a sold out run at London's National Theatre, and honored with the Olivier award. For me, the real satisfaction in Mr. Cranston's performance involves watching his 1080p image on a giant screen. And why not: it's how many of us got to know this talented actor, especially in his monumental performance in AMC's Breaking Bad, where he played Walter White, a chemistry teacher turned drug dealer. Van Hove’s staging celebrates our pixelized actor/audience relationship with him through the use of his brilliant technology.

Despite the 21st century staging, Lee Hal's adaptation of the film is set in 1976, where the fictional UBS is a distant fourth network, years before CNN made viewers dependent on 24 hour broadcasts and constant announcements of breaking news. Howard Beale’s rants maintain an air of prophecy reminding us that television is a show-business marketplace. And even though the character's monologues closely describe the current state of the medium, Chayefsky's main goal at the time was not to play the soothsayer, but to skewer the medium, and remind us why we called it the Boob Tube.

The supporting roles are a little bit more problematic in this production. It's very hard to forget or even come close to William Holden's Max Schumacher, being one of the actor's great performances of his later years. Tony Goldwyn is not the right age for the part, and although he gives a creditable performance, it is hard to believe him as a contemporary of the much older Mr. Cranston, especially when the two characters talk about how they both started together as young men at CBS with Edward R. Murrow. Maybe a little more old age makeup might have helped, or maybe van Hove is asking us to suspend our disbelief big time. Tatiana Maslany is believable as Diana Christensen, but again this actress is up against the indelible, celluloid memory of Faye Dunaway's Oscar winning performance.

Not to worry: with Mr. Cranston you will not be missing Jon Finch's titanic Academy award winning performance as Howard Beale. That's why the winner of this year's Tony award for best actor in a play is onstage at the Belasco Theatre.  Don't miss him!

SHOPLIFTERS: an Oscar Nominated Film from Japan

Shoplifters is Japan's entry at this year's Academy Awards. The film by Hirokasu Kore-eda, a "Lower Depths" look at a marginalized family in modern Japan, was the Palme D'Or winner at the last Cannes Film Festival, as well as one of the films in the Main Slate of the 2018 New York Film Festival. Director Kore-eda presents us with a most unusual group: a ragged collection of societal cast-offs, living together in cramped quarters like any other family.  But this "family" is unusual. They are bound together by their will to survive, and they exercise this primordial instinct by the oldest professions. The oldest male, acting in the role of the father, Osamu, (Lily Franky) and the youngest male, Shota, (Kairi Jyo) are a tremendous tag-team when it comes to ripping off supermarkets; and the teenage daughter Aki (Mayu Matsuoka) works at a sex club, entertaining anonymous clients from behind a one-way glass. When Osamu and Shota bring home a five year old girl named Juri (Miyu Sasaki), who has been forgotten by her parents, the family grows even more in their cramped quarter, but the girl is welcomed. Right away we realize that she is also damaged goods, like the rest of them: Grandma (Kilin Kiki) also notices that the girl's body is filled with scars. When the media breaks the news that the little girl has been kidnapped, Osamu's partner, Nobuyo (Sakura Ando) does not fret, instead she cuts Juri's hair, and the women go "shopping" for little dresses, which they all stuff into their bags.

 In telling their story, director Kore-eda avoids the darkest aspects of their lives. It might be a sordid story of poverty, but somehow the mood remains light throughout the film. As the director unwraps their story we come to know and love these characters, empathizing with their flaws, and even believing that they are more sinned against than sinning. As much as possible, the narrative line escapes from their cramped shanty, contrasting exteriors that show modern Japan's ultra-fast trains rolling by very close to their makeshift home. The family even has a day at the beach: one last moment of relative happiness before an event shifts the narrative into a darker hue that leads us to a denouement that's revelatory and surprising. 

Shoplifters is a very special film in a year filled with incredible titles from all over the world. As New York Times critic Manohla Dargis concluded in her insightful review of this film "In their grubby imperfections, Kore-eda finds a perfect story about being human." And this is what elevates this tale into a universal examination of the human heart. Don't miss it. It truly is one of the best films of the year.

Finally a good-fitting tenor at the MET

When I started going to the opera back when I was a teenager, I heard that Francesco Cilea's Adriana Lecouvreur was a second rate work composed by a third-rate composer. It didn't matter that in those days the likes of Renata Scotto, Montserrat Caballé, José Carreras, Plácido Domingo, and other luminaries of the time were singing the leading roles of the actress Adriana (the Comédie-Française actress Adrienne Lecouvreur) and her lover Maurizio (the Count of Saxony). I stayed away from this opera, and kept away from it, in part because the MET, my principal go-to theater for opera, hardly revived this work, perhaps as a result of the negative criticism that it received since its premiere at the Teatro Lirico in Milan in 1902.

Last night, under the threat of a big snowstorm (that ended up being no more than an annoying rainstorm) I rectified this gap in my operatic education and attended my first Adriana. I didn't vacillate in buying tickets months ahead of time for this new production by Sir David McVicar. With the likes of Anna Netrebko and Piotr Beczała scheduled to sing the main roles it was a not-to-be-missed production. A lot of people must have had the same idea, since the house was sold-out, and the three rows of standing room behind the orchestra were also full.

I also went because this season I'm on a search for a night at the MET when the tenor actually gives a good performance. Ever since the Alagna opening night Samson et Dalila fiasco I've only been to performances where the tenor has either been terrible, or in the case of the new Traviata, miscast when it comes to the dynamic and timbre levels of the rest of the singers. And let's not forget the Jonas Kaufmann episode on the night I went to see him in Fanciulla del West. He went ahead and sang, when instead he should have stayed in bed with a hot toddy. Let's face it, it has not been a very good season for the tenor voice at the MET.

Last night, the cast did not disappoint. Netrebko as Adriana was her vocally exciting self crafting a character as complex and vulnerable as any diva that has step in front of the footlights. And Beczała, fresh from his triumph at Bayreuth, stepping in for Alagna in Lohengrin at the last minute, finally made my trips to Lincoln Center worth it when it comes to hearing an exciting tenor voice that does not disappoint.

Perhaps the two great performances of the evening came from Anita Rachvelishvili as the Princess of Bouillon and Ambrogio Maestri as Michonnet. Miss Rachvelishvili,who was a fiery Amneris to Ms. Netrebko's Aida earlier this year, once again was a vocally-impressive rival in this opera. Mr. Maestri, our current worldwide go-to Falstaff, proved that he could be heart-breaking in his unrequited love of Adriana.

Gianandrea Noseda led a knowledgeable, if at times pedestrian reading of a score rich with amazingly beautiful melodies, but lacking musical invention. It proves once again that in the verismo generation, the last great generation of Italian opera, very few composers can even dream of comparing to the greatness of Giacomo Puccini.

New TRAVIATA at the MET

The new production of Verdi's La Traviata at the Metropolitan Opera tries really hard to please New York's Old Guard: the ones who missed Franco Zeffirelli's production when it was replaced by Willy Decker's bare-bones, surrealistic and symbolic rethinking of the work. Currently on display at the MET we have Michael Mayer's new look at the composer's 1853 masterpiece, featuring a solid, but gaudy fin-de-siècle unit set by Christine Jones, costumes by Susan Hilferty and lighting by Kevin Adams. The days when different acts and locales demanded different sets are over. Ms. Jones provides us with a unit set which with the help of Mr. Adam's Bollywood style lighting creates Violetta's salon, her country house and Flora's ball. If you are a newcomer to opera, study your libretto before you go, and you'll know where you are.

The MET has put together what it thinks is an ideal cast for this production, featuring the coloratura of Diana Damrau, who seems to have a hold on Verdi's middle period heroines at the house. Her Alfredo is Juan Diego Flórez who serves the production admirably with his young looks and handsome dashing acting, even if vocally he is hopelessly miscast: a Rossini specialist pushed into a Verdi opera. The results are a small voice competing with the big-boys. It throws off kilter the vocal balance. Add to that the Giorgio Germont of Quinn Kelsey, a cavernous baritone with a loud, and at times unfocused tone, and you have a Traviata that has clearly been cast on looks, with a sharp eye on the HD screen, rather than vocal integrity.

The surprise of the evening was Yannick Nézet-Séguin and his admirable handling of the Metropolitan Opera orchestra.  While this score is often handed to pedestrian conductors who do little else than beat metronome-like phrases, or to a tenor currently moonlighting as a baritone/conductor, Mr. Nézet-Séguin proved why he has been chosen to be the MET's new Music Director. In his able hands the score came to life, as he brought out the inner voices of the orchestration, and found beautiful phrasing in places often glossed over by others. As expected, the orchestra responded to his direction without fault. And even if at times the pacing seemed slow, and the dynamic level reached Wagnerian proportions, it's been a long time since this score has been heard with such detail.

Reason enough to go to this production and hear this often-played work as if it was the first time.

Wildlife: Fire and Water

Primal elements, fire and water, are the catalysts that erupt into primal desires in Wildlife, Paul Dano's brilliant directorial debut adapted from Richard Ford’s 1990 novel.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays Jerry, a golf pro who gets fired as a result of getting too chummy with the club’s members. It seems that Jerry has trouble keeping down a job, and as a result he’s had to move his family around much too often. His wife Jeannette (Carey Mulligan) and their fourteen year old son Joe (newcomer Ed Oxenbould) have come to accept the necessity to be uprooted multiple times. However, when the club calls Jerry to offer him his old job back he refuses their offer, and instead leaves the family to take a low paying job fighting forest fires. His departure sends the family into a downward spiral that emotionally tears them apart. Jeanette and Joe are forced to get jobs to make ends meet. Joe becomes a photographer's assistant, and Jeannette takes a job as a swimming instructor. Soon enough she begins a relation with Warren Miller (Bill Camp) one of her students, a wealthy war veteran. Joe gets dragged into the affair, his mother allowing him to witness the kind of marital infidelity no young person should be allowed to see. When Jake comes back from fighting fires things get even worse.

Carey Mulligan is destined for glory at awards time. With her perfect American accent, her nuanced, meticulous Jeannette contains many layers. Somehow she is able to reveal all of them, and this is the brilliant aspect of her performance. Likewise, Jake Gyllenhaal is perfect as the wide-eyed dreamer, always searching for the best for his family, although most of the time he fails to recognize the many personal flaws that keep him from getting ahead. Their marital problems, already there before the narrative begins, take on classic routes. The man leaves the nest in order to prove to his family and to himself that he can do it, while the wife seeks comfort in another man she does not love just to prove to herself that she remains a desirable person with urges that must be satisfied.

Ed Oxenbould as Joe is a revelation. An Australian teenage actor with a unique young face that already shows signs of maturity beyond his years, and a pair of baby-blue eyes a la Paul Newman to die for. You won't be able to take your own eyes off him! Mr. Oxenbould joins Timothée Chalamet and Lucas Hedges in that prestigious group of young actors with recent, memorable performances that signal a new generation with a bright future.

Wildlife is one of the finest films of the year. Great performances, outstanding actor-driven direction, and a haunting story about three real people. A film not be missed.

Burning - a film by Lee Chang-don

A film about obsession, where one of the main characters follows another in a car through the streets of an exotic city; and where the main female character disappears halfway through the film; and one of the characters keeps mementos of past relationships. This description could define an Alfred Hitchcock film. Perhaps a remake of Psycho, or more appropriately a new version of his masterpiece, Vertigo. It is also one way to describe Burning, the new Korean film from auteur Lee Chang-dong. A contemporary story involving Lee Jong-su, (Yoo Ah-in) a young drifter with dreams of becoming a writer, who meets up with childhood friend, Haemi (Jeong Jong-seo), a free spirit with plans of traveling to Africa. Both renew their friendship which rapidly becomes sexual. When Haemi comes back from Africa she introduces Lee to Ben (Steven Yeung), a well-off, mysterious young man, whom she met on the airplane on her way back, and who Lee compares to F. Scott Fitzgerald's Jay Gatsby. During a party where the three smoke pot, and Haemi dances topless erotically as the sun sets (one of the highlights of the film), Ben confesses to Lee that he has the odd hobby of setting old greenhouses on fire. When Haemi mysteriously disappears, Lee immediately senses something wrong, and starts following Ben, partly because he is worried about his friend, but also because he is obsessed with the mysterious young man and his opulent lifestyle.

The film is based on a short story by Japanese writer Haruki Murakami called "Barn Burning." This is also the title of a 1939 short story by William Faulkner, the Southern author who is Lee's favorite writer. As Lee and Ben's friendship deepens, Ben decides to buy a copy of Faulkner's collected stories.

The film takes a postmodernist approach in its meandering way in which it tells this story. Scenes often do not lead to expected outcomes, thus the structure is freewheeling and loose. At 148 minutes director Lee eases us into the narrative with a sure, firm hand, an invisible camera, and a rambling mise-en scène. However, he manages to engross us in the narrative, thanks primarily to the stellar performances by the three principals.

The film premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, it was a selection of the New York Film Festival, and it is South Korea's entry for the Best Foreign Language Film at the upcoming Academy Awards.

BOY ERASED with Hedges, Crowe and Kidman

Boy Erased is not the first film this year to tackle the thorny subject of conversion therapy. This film, featuring three Hollywood A-listers, closely follows the themes of the recent indie The Miseducation of Cameron Post. The fact that big Hollywood is taking a chance on this controversial subject makes it a film worth considering, and certainly one that will be critically discussed as we head towards the end of the year, and awards season time. Especially since the film possesses heartfelt performances by all three principals.

When Jared, played by Lucas Hedges, a young college student, comes out to his parents, a Baptist minister (an almost unrecognizable, overweight Russell Crowe) and his wife, Nicole Kidman, they decide to enroll him in a program to cure him of his homosexuality. It’s a bit like the Joan Fontaine character in Hitchcock’s Rebecca, after she marries Laurence Olivier and enters gloomy, mysterious Manderley. When Jared steps inside the Love in Action program he enters the gothic, a Dickensian institution run by Mr. Sykes, a character with a Dickensian name that Charles Dickens himself might have had fun developing, since from a literary point of view he is only a stone’s throw from Mr. Squeers, the cruel headmaster in the novel Nicholas Nickleby. The fact that this film is based on a true story verges on the unbelievably tragic.

The secondary characters are as fully rounded as the leads. Mr. Sykes, played by Joel Edgerton, the director of this film, is a wondrous creation: a Bible-wielding mountebank who spouts salvation while hiding from everyone his true nature. Also wondrous, as well as scary is one of Mr. Sykes’s enforcers, played with sinister gusto by Flea of The Red Hot Chilly Peppers. There is also a memorable performance by Troye Sivan, the South African-born, Australian actor/singer, whose latest pop album, Bloom, is at the top of the charts. Mr. Sivan has a great screen presence, and one of the members of the cast who is openly gay.

Although the film has many wonderful touches, it falls into a predictable pattern where the characters become recognizable figures verging on the stereotypical. So we get the young, questioning boy, who is far from being a slut, but who carries an incredible amount of guilt because of his feelings. There’s the understanding mother, and the unyielding father who just cannot come to terms with his son’s feelings. There’s also the clever boy who will play along with the conversion program just to get out of there; and regrettably there’s also the boy who is permanently scarred by the program’s abuse, and becomes its tragic victim.

Despite its artistic flaws, Boy Erased is a courageous step from mainstream Hollywood to expose a dubious system that thus far has effected 700,000 members of the LGBTQ community, and continues to be practiced legally in many parts of the country.

Guadagnino's SUSPIRIA

Luca Guadagnino, the much-praised director of Call Me By your Name returns to the theme of inter-generational relationships in his rethinking of Dario Argento's 1977 thriller Suspiria. Whereas the classic horror film was the first of a proposed trilogy depicting the theme of "Three Ancient Mothers," with the results being the familiar "giallo" style for which the Italian filmmaker is best known, Guadagnino's take on the film is a self-contained two and a half hour extravaganza taking the bare-bones story of the original, and riffing on socio-political themes not really present in the original film.

In this retelling we meet Sussie Bannion, a young ingenue from America (Dakota Johnson), aching to escape her Mennonite upbringing, who travels to a divided West Berlin to enroll in the famous Helena Markos Dance Company, a school run by a Pina Baush look-alike named Madame Blanc (Tilda Swinton). Almost immediately the new girl falls under the spell of Madame Blanc, who recognizes in her an innate talent for dance, and the "je ne sais quoi" necessary to become a great dancer. At the same time, an elderly psychoanalyst (also played by Tilda Swinton wearing a ton of makeup), with a past dating back to the days of the Third Reich, is investigating the disappearance of one of the dancers in the company, and the alleged claims that the school is run by a coven of witches.

While all of this proves to be quite enigmatic, the movie fairly quickly falls off the rails as it tries to bite more than it can chew. Apparently in Guadagnino's mind it is not enough to just make a horror film. The new Suspiria, which is divided into acts like a German Expressionistic film of the silent era, ie, Nosferatu, features the Baader-Meinhof political landscape of Germany in the decade of the 1970's, as well as the vivid ghosts of National Socialism. This, together with a running time of 152 minutes, makes it a bladder-buster of a horror film, too long for a genre which, like comedy, works more effectively when it adheres to a shorter running time. Unfortunately, the film denouement is one of the most extravagant spectacles I have seen in quite a while. Never a good idea to outdo the original. Dario Argento is an excessive filmmaker, no one will argue with that, but in paying homage to the master, Guadagnino totally goes overboard.

So, should you bother with this remake? Try the new Suspiria if you like to be engrossed in a film that asks more questions than it answers, and if you enjoy the experience of a polemic work that's sure to spark some very interesting cinematic conversation.

THE FERRYMAN on Broadway

From London comes last year's West End hit, The Ferryman, Jezz Butterworth's titanic play about the Troubles in Northern Ireland during the decade of the 1980's, around the time Bobby Sands and other incarcerated members of the IRA died in Maze Prison after a long hunger strike that divided a nation.

The well-preserved body of Seamus Carney, killed because he was believed to be an informer for the British, has been discovered buried in a bog, and now the kingpin of the IRA, Mr. Muldoon (Stuart Graham), must make sure that the surviving members of the Carney family do not accuse him and his cohorts of the murder. This threat is especially directed at the surviving brother of the deceased, Quinn Carney (Paddy Considine), the patriarch of a large rural Northern Ireland family. And what an incredible family Mr. Butterworth has created! All of them played with beautiful nuances and expert craft by a company of Irish actors under the direction of the spectacular Sam Mendes, a director who has proven again and again that he is both adept crafting films (from American Beauty to Skyfall and Spectre) to both musicals (the recent revival of Gypsy) and this masterpiece by the author of the monumental Jerusalem, one of the most exciting plays in recent days, which had a monumental Tony award winning performance by Mark Rylance.

Whereas Mr. Butterworth attempted to write an ensemble piece in Jerusalem, the outcome was mostly a vehicle for the talents of Mr. Rylance. With The Ferryman he has achieved this quest. With 21 speaking parts, the writing is able to create 21 fully-rounded characters which range from angry young men who dance furiously to a punk rock song by The Undertones, to a wheelchair-bound aunt, played beautifully by that great Irish actress Fionnula Flanagan, who remembers her unrequited love which left her childless. There is also a simple-minded British handyman named Tom Kettle (Justin Edwards) who works for the Carney family, and who brings the children apples, and who wrings the neck of a goose for the family harvest feast, an eerie act-ender harbinger of the violence that's bubbling under the surface of this work.

With a rousing version of the Irish fighting song "A Row in the Town," the mention of the feared legendary creatures called the Banshees, and an ending that you will never forget The Ferryman is most definitely an Irish play crafted out of ancient mythology and the violence of the times it portrays. Yet, the themes that it presents are as universal as those of the great playwrights of the English language. With this spectacular work, Mr. Butterworth joins that prestigious list.

NYFF: At Eternity's Gate

The director of At Eternity's Gate, Julian Schnabel became a sensation during the 1980s with his "plate paintings:" large scale canvases set on broken ceramic plates. He emerged as the most famous of the bad-boys of that artistic generation that also included David Salle, Keith Haring author Jay McInerney and Jean-Michel Basquiat: artists that made downtown Manhattan the epicenter of the artistic world. As a matter of fact, when Schnabel traded in his canvases for a movie camera, his first project was a biopic of the late Basquiat. Now Schnabel turns his cinematic attention to another bad-boy artist: the infinitely tragic Vincent van Gogh and his last tortured days in Arles, in the south of France: frantic days in which the artist descended into madness while at the same time capturing the light of Arles in one brilliant canvas after another. Van Gogh stayed at Arles for eighty days, and managed to paint seventy-five canvases. The large majority of them the well known masterpieces he is best known for.

Essentially the film follows the relationship between Vincent (an incredible Willem Dafoe) and his brother Theo (Rupert Friend), as well as the friendship between van Gogh and artist Paul Gauguin (Oscar Isaac). But like Schnabel's early broken canvases, the film is a disjointed look at the artist's downward spiral into madness, mutilation and suicide. Certainly it is not Lust for Life, Vincente Minelli's 1956 biopic starring Kirk Douglas as the tortured Dutch artist.

Willem Dafoe's understated van Gogh is the highlight of this work, and the glue that keeps this film together. Mr. Dafoe has been the darling of the Independent film sect lately, morphing from one character to another with the greatest of ease. He can be Pier Paolo Pasolini in Abel Ferrara's 2014 biopic of the murdered Italian filmmaker, or he can become Bobby, the manager of the Magic Castle hotel in last year's great The Florida Project. His van Gogh might just be his greatest role since he played the Son of God in Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ.

If your idea of a biopic is not a definitive reconstruction of the past, and if your taste in film favors a narrative of moments, impressions and fragments, then you will certainly enjoy this arresting, luminous film.

A Star is Born: this time with Cooper and Gaga

There’s s great line in Bradley Cooper’s new film A Star is Born referring to music being just twelve notes, “and the story repeats again.” It’s a referential line to the history of this well-known show-biz story which began in 1937 with Dorothy Parker and Ben Hecht’s original script for David O. Selznick, and the talents of Fredric March and Janet Gaynor. For many this early Technicolor film is the quintessential version of this story, but the story was told again in 1954, changed to a musical to accommodate the prodigious talents of Judy Garland. This version, helmed by George Cukor remains incomplete with sections missing, but what remains intact is gold. Music also remained when the story was told a third time, this time with Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson in 1976, in perhaps what many consider the weakest of the three versions, although the film has its champions.

One of them is Bradley Cooper. The current version of the story draws much from this version. The story is well-known. Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper) is a hard drinking famous rocker who meets Ally (Lady Gaga) a talented, but unknown singer. Jackson gives a boost to her career, and the two fall in love and marry. But as Ally’s fame takes off, Jackson’s demons catch up to him. He horribly embarrasses Ally and himself the night she wins the Grammy award, and things go headlong downhill for Jackson to the inevitable tragic conclusion already familiar from the previous versions.

Thanks to Bradley Cooper’s intelligent handling of this material as co-screenwriter and in his directorial debut, A Star is Born has become the film to beat at the Oscars this year. The film features great emotional acting from Cooper, and shows a triple threat Lady Gaga who might just have carved out a niche for herself come Oscar night. Also giving memorable performances are Andrew Dice Clay playing Ally's father, Anthony Ramos as Ally's friend from her time when she was singing at a drag bar, Sam Elliott as Jackson's older brother, and Rafi Gavron as Rez, a music producer and Ally's manager who precipitates the tragic conclusion of the story with his unfeeling approach towards Jackson's alcoholism.

They don't write them like they used to, and Hollywood knows this. They keep resurrecting this property time and again because filmmakers know that audiences love a great tragic love story. This version of A Star is Born speaks to current audiences in a way the previous versions satisfied their particular public. And when it comes to the movies we love to see a performer who has already distinguished herself in another facet of showbiz making a kill on the big screen, and this is exactly what we get when we witness Lady Gaga's great performance.

NYFF: Roma

We will never know the meaning of everything that's in the new film Roma, Alfonso Cuarón's loving black-and-white recreation of his childhood in the Roma section of Mexico City. As with any autobiographical movie, the writer-director shares scenes filtered through the lens of memory, and artificially recreated through the performance of actors and the objectivity of the camera, manned by the subjective intellectual directorial decisions that make a complete cinematic product. After exploring the adventure of a Mexican road trip (Y tu mamá también), a dystopian future (Children of Men), outer space (Gravity) and a world of wizards and humans (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban), he's exploring the memory and magic of his childhood. Roma, in addition brings on board a wealth of cinematic references, some personal, and others culled from a lifetime of movie watching.

When you watch Roma you are also watching Cuarón's homage to the directors he loves and those that have influenced his career. Visually, it's impossible to watch Roma and not bring to mind the work of Federico Fellini and the other architects of the Neorealism movement. This is particularly evident in the choice of casting non-professional actors in key roles, such as Yalitza Aparicio, a woman from a village in Oaxaca, who had never acted before, and who plays Cleo, an indigenous servant/nanny to an upper middle class family.

But make no mistake about it: this is a 100% Mexican film, one which could not have been made elsewhere. Though touching upon Mexican themes of racial inequality and university students unrest, the core of the film remains the breakup of a family, and the way their nanny manages to keep them together, while confronting her own dire problems. This gives the film a universal appeal while at the same time remaining very close to Cuarón's memories of his beloved Libo, and indigenous woman whom he considered his second mother.

There are many epic moments in this film that stand out: a trip to the movies (to watch 1971's Marooned) where the disintegration of the family begins (the scene might remind you of a key scene in François Truffaut's The 400 Blows), a New Year's celebration featuring a shooting party which culminates in a forest fire, a student demonstration that ends tragically, and a visit to a seaside resort where a dangerous undertow and raging waves threatens the very lives of the main characters. Despite these superbly crafted showstoppers, it is the intimate moments of family life that catapult this film into the realm of greatness.

Roma is a Netflix film that you will be able to stream towards the end of the year, but this is the kind of movie that you need to watch on the big screen with an audience. Roma is Mexico's official entry into the 2018 Oscar race.  If I were you I'd race to a theater to watch it.

NYFF: THE BALLAD OF BUSTER SCRUGGS

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, the latest film from Joel and Ethan Coen, is a rare, strange beast. An anthology film consisting of separate stories that go from the ridiculous to the sublime. The first one, featuring a singing cowboy Roy Rogers style was written twenty-five years ago. The film is a homage to the western, perhaps the most neglected genre in contemporary Hollywood. Of course, the Coens grew up in the heyday of the television western craze. So, visually, the stories borrow from Gunsmoke, Bat Masterson, Bonanza, and a myriad of others. There are also homages to the great cinematic westerns of the 40's and 50's as well as the Sergio Leone spaghetti westerns that became a staple in theaters in the decade of the 60's.

So, the movie is a mish-mash of styles: there's a segment with a singing cowboy (Tim Blake Nelson) who is fast on the draw, who keeps on singing even after he loses a "high noon style" shootout. In another sequence James Franco comes to rob a bank looking like one of those laconic cowboys in the credit sequence of Sergio Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West, complete with a long riding coat. In another segment Tom Waits plays a gold prospector who strikes it rich to the tune of "Mother Machree," and in the longest sequence of the film a wagon train heading west is attacked by the kind of savage Indians that John Ford specialized in, and which I thought Hollywood had done away with in its revisionist phase. Perhaps the most poignant episode features Liam Neeson as a kind of traveling P.T. Barnum who displays one "freak:" an English actor (Harry Melling) with no arms or legs, a talking torso who recites everything from poetry to the Declaration of Independence. The episode builds to a climax of pure heartlessness, making it for me, the most satisfying of all the segments.

At the Q&A after the film, Kent Jones, the head of the selection committee at the New York Film Festival suggested that the unifying theme of the six stories is mortality. I'm sorry to say that this statement caught the brothers by surprise. Or were they just kidding, and playing to the crowd? With the Coens you never know. However, one thing's for sure: the movie is a very entertaining trifle which will surely please their fans.

Aïda at the MET

This is my second visit to the Metropolitan Opera in one week. My first visit was the MET’s opening night, and now I'm back here on Saturday night. Twice I have seen performances where the tenor delivers an abysmal performance. I’ve already described Roberto Alagna’s awful Samson, disgracing opening night, and now we can add Aleksandrs Antonenko’s appearance in Aïda. His terrible Radames has no place on the MET's stage.

Mr. Antonenko suffers from a variety of musical and acting ills. But his silent cinema acting could be forgiven if there were a voice behind the silly theatrics. Instead he offers an unfocused attempt at a vocal line where pitch problems abound as he scoops up to most notes. Incredibly enough his top is ringing and secure, which is the reason, I'm convinced, that he still gets hired here and in Europe. But the vocal journey to an above-the-staff destination is one of the most ugly and arduous I have heard in a long time. His curtain call received a cool reception, and a smattering of boos. 

The evening clearly belonged to the ladies. Anna Netrebko offering her first house Aïda was nothing less than a triumph. Those that were fortunate enough to see her first trip down the Nile in Salzburg two summers ago knew that she would not disappoint. Her Ethiopian princess featured sturdy vocalism, beauty of sound, and those precious high notes that make your ears ring. She is truly our current reigning queen of the operatic stage, and I hope that she continues to steer her career in the right vocal direction. Anita Rachvelishvili sang Amneris with vigor and a strong mezzo, and was a credible rival to Ms. Netrebko.

As Aïda's father, Quinn Kelsey delivered an impassioned reading of Amonasro; his steely baritone able to handle the vocal complexities of the role. Dmitry Belosselskiy was a sturdy Ramfis, as long as the role does not go below the staff where his voice disappears. Ryan Speedo Green made a lasting impression in the small role of the King. Conductor Nicola Luisotti led the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and Chorus in a work which I'm sure they can do with their eyes closed.

A word about the MET's production of this opera.  On the one hand, it is great to see the enormous stage of the MET being used by this larger than life conservative staging. On the other hand, in these days of experimentation, this production is starting to look a bit aged, a bit kitschy. Perhaps, it is time to take a long hard look at this perennial favorite and grace it with the production it deserves, not just use it to bring in the crowds who want to see what opera staging was like thirty years ago.

SAMSON ET DALILA: Opening night of the MET

The years have not been kind to Roberto Alagna's voice. As a matter of fact, I worry about his career, I think he is all washed up. The former star of Faust now gone to Hell. This summer he cancelled his debut at Bayreuth where he was to sing Lohengrin. This was a good move. He should have cancelled opening night of the MET. Bayreuth was spared this summer, but the Metropolitan Opera has suffered a black eye thanks to his catastrophic singing in the title role of Samson et Dalila, Camille Saint-Saëns's popular Biblical opera.

The new staging was directed by Darko Tresnjak, a Broadway director of some reknown (A Gentleman's Guide to Love & Murder, and Anastasia) making his MET debut.  It has been the goal of General Manager Peter Gelb to bring new blood into the opera house by engaging Broadway directors to breathe new life into the warhorses. So far his record is a spotty one, and last night might have been another failing experiment. The production, with sets by Alexander Dodge and costumes by Linda Cho brings us nothing more than a kitschy staging, exactly what Peter Gelb is trying to move away from.  Some of the sets looked like the circles on the proscenium of Radio City Music Hall. The set of the final act in the temple of Dagon is a technicolor monstrosity that even Cecil B. DeMille would have rejected. As a matter of fact, DeMille's 1949 film of this story features a memorable epic set which Victor Mature topples down. Ms. Cho's costumes seem to also come right out of old-time Hollywood; maybe the Babylonian section from D.W. Griffith's 1916 film Intolerance. I'm sure that in 1916 these costumes would have been right at home at 39th Street and Broadway, at the old MET.

 Dalila was sung by Elina Garanca, who made such a splash last season as Octavian in Der Rosenkavalier. Last night the Latvian mezzo-soprano was in good voice, but she never really got inside the skin of the character. Perhaps Mark Elder's conducting, with its slower-than-usual tempi, did not help her characterization. This score, with its many formal chorus pieces (there's even a fugue for the Israelites) and unusual music, whict at times hints at Peter Glass-style minimalism is a tricky one to pull off. Unfortunately last night, it all seemed flat, except for the chorus which sounded amazing, as always.

It was sad to hear Roberto Alagna in such horrendous vocal shape. His singing sounded thin and frail, and devoid of any top notes. Vocally, the opera ends with a B flat for Samson as he brings down the temple of Dagon, but at that point all that came out of Alagna's voice was a sad croak. The best that one can say about Alagna was written by New York Times critic Anthony Tommasini: "To his credit, against all odds with this staging, he tried mightily all night."

The Man of the Hour: CARLOS RAMOS

Carlos Ramos, the Portuguese tennis umpire, became the man of the hour when he was on the chair for the Serena Williams/Naomi Osaka finals match. Why this honor in my book? Because he stuck to his guns, and he made sure that the match would follow strictly the rules of tennis, without pandering to Serena Williams and her custom of resorting to a meltdown when things don't go her way.

What happened during the match? Mr. Ramos realized that Serena's coach Patrick Mouratoglou was coaching Serena from his box seat at Ashe stadium. This is not allowed, so he gave Serena a warning. Serena protested that she does not cheat, and that she was not being coached. (Later on, Mouratoglou admitted that he was coaching her!) Minutes later, when Serena was down in the match, she smashed her racket. This being her second infraction, he deducted a point from her score. Serena went crazy! She had a massive "Mac-Attack" and insulted Ramos by calling him a "thief." Ramos fired back by deducting a whole game from Serena. Serena blew her top again, and called for the tournament directors, who followed the rules, and did nothing more than support the umpire.

Carlos Ramos's decisions were all according to the book. However, the audience at the stadium, many of them, Serena's fans, began to boo Ramos. And to add salt to the wound, after Serena lost the match, during the presentation of awards, Mr. Ramos was not recognized for his courageous work during the match. I have already called the USTA stupid for not closing the roof and putting on the air conditioner when the temperature reached the three digit mark during the first week of the tournament, but now I have to add that they are also gutless for not supporting one of their own, and letting themselves be persuaded by the crowd, and by the shenanigans of Serena, who continues to be a deplorable prima-donna.