26 November 2009

Parfumerie

(Young Centre for the Performing Arts, 26 November 2009)

Perceptiveness thrives in contentment. Misery blinds; so does bliss, but it is less common. Life's multiple dimensions cannot be recovered from a one-dimensional emotion experienced at any time, typically dominated by a life's single dimension. Changes of environment are required to induce variation in life's circumstances, and then some detective work is required to identify each circumstance's effect on one's well-being.

The only thing George (Oliver Dennis) dislikes more than his job is being jobless. At work, miserable, he is the man he manages to be; in his letters, he is the man he wants to be. In the letters, he is also the man he actually is, content because spared from the irritable boss's reproaches and an inept co-worker's (Rosie's, played by Patricia Fagan) inadvertent sabotage of sales.

The play is a fairy tale tinted with compromise. (Later, Hollywood found it profitable to discard compromise not to sabotage sales.) Rarely a play that does not miscast its leading lady is a failure. Neither is this one. Patricia Fagan is handsome and able, but not implausibly so for a Hungarian salesgirl she portrays. The ease with which Oliver Dennis's plain character wins over the girl is a testament to the story's compromise, but also to wisdom in simplicity, practised out of necessity---by characters as well as the company. Joseph Ziegler (Mr Hammerschmidt) and Michael Simpson (Louis Sipos) are responsible for recreating the spirit of Hungary, as Shakespeare intended to recreate Denmark---as a work of art, not as a National Geographic feature.

19 November 2009

Radio City Christmas Spectacular

(HSBC Arena, 19 November 2009)

The show achieves what one would have thought impossible if it only had not appeared so natural. The show's every act caters a Christmas dream for everyone. All enjoy the same dish, each savours his favourite ingredient and believes it to be the main one. Whether one wants to believe in miracles, the Nativity story, or the perfection of female form---one finds enough fabrication to reaffirm that belief. The show has mastered what each believer hopes for---the perfectibility of man (and chorus girl, and mouse, and elf).

The show resembles the early Hollywood cinema. The synchronised dancing routines expose a character whose features would be undetectable in individual dancers. Scenes change swiftly, progress quickly---just to register in memory, often not to be consumed on premises.

The "12 Days of Christmas" is the product of the American formula that transforms pop culture into art, and makes art popular; it pleases the living, sparing no expense, at the risk of temporarily upsetting the dead. The Rockettes' tap-dancing rendition of the "Swan Lake" turns the ballet into a timeless jazz standard.

The "Parade of Wooden Soldiers," an original act from 1933, is a pinnacle of grace. High-waisted wide-legged white trousers amplify the character of each dancer, with seemingly so little room for distinction. The steps are minimal and technically as uniform as the dancers' costumes. Yet, with the moves synchronised, the slightest syncopation or inflection asserts a personality. To keep the tall hats vertical, all moves emanate from hips, thus perfecting each step.

13 November 2009

Whatever Works (2009)

Are not the people in the provinces---not evil, just scared, as Evan Rachel Wood's character puts it---underemployed? True, it may be cheaper to sustain them where they are, feed them religion, football, and television---not ballet, theatre, and fine art---and hope that they serendipitously will produce an idea or an intellect that will benefit the civilized world. Yet, many in the provinces would be freer and happier (and would make others happier too) if they were initiated into civilization at an early age, instead of fighting for it or stumbling upon it. The initiation is not as improbable as it may appear. Individuals strive to have a passion, which they would not abandon for a good judgement, but would substitute for another passion, which can be designed to be a reasonable one.

In contrast to most of her publicity stills, in the movie, Evan Rachel Wood is pretty---the price she pays for appealing to an intelligent man, played by Larry David. The affliction vanishes when she settles with Henry Cavill's character, a man of her own generation. With the affliction, affection will vanish too. Hence Larry David's admonition that the film is not a feel-good one.

Larry David character's vision, even if true, is too grim to share with most others. He cannot help not sharing it, however, even if doing so is unprofitable. His intermittent suicide attempts are the only instances when he tries to be selective in choosing the audience for his existential insights. The suicide attempts also reveal his doubt in the accuracy of his vision, the burden of which is often unbearable. His latest attempt at a targeted insight, a jump out of a window, lands him a girlfriend.

In the movie, the characters who learn most are those who find themselves transplanted into an unfamiliar environment. Larry David's character is the one who learns least, perhaps, because he knows most, but also because he has spent his life witnessing others come to seek and often not find happiness where he is, instead of going elsewhere, where he could follow them and would be excused for taking along his idealistic dreams.