Same Time Next Year

The Brisbane Arts Theatre had a coup for the start of its 2007 season: the premiere performance of noted Australian playwright Jill Shearer's latest work Candi Bentar. Unfortunately this reviewer was not able to catch that show, but other reviews were certainly favourable (you can read what Stagediary had to say here).

As tragedy often follows triumph, I would not have been surprised for the second show of the year to be a disappointment. However the Bernard Slade-penned Same Time Next Year is a sweet little production, which while a little dated and certainly not ground-breaking, contains fine performances from its two leads, and is a pleasant diversion on a Saturday night.

Can you love two people at the same time? For George and Doris, the answer is yes. The two are relatively happily married - to different people - when they meet and have a one-night stand in 1951. That one weekend turns into 25 years of weekends, always at the same time of the year, and at the same San Francisco hotel. Their relationship seems to be the one constant thing in a world full of rapid and often confusing change.

"Double handers" - shows with only two actors - are tough, and David McCartney as George and Andrea Carne as Doris do well to sustain their performances. Their American accents did waver towards the end of the show, but that's only to be expected after two hours. However both must be admired for capturing the nuances of their characters - George's youthful brashness turns into grief-stricken conservatism, and finally analytical self-acceptance; while Doris' growing confidence is a joy to watch as the young housewife and mother decides to get herself an education, embrace the revolutionary spirit of the 60s, then move into the business world and become her family's main breadwinner. At times the sexual intimacy between the two seemed somewhat forced, but the did get across the sense of deep friendship that obviously is what kept George and Doris coming back to each other every year.

Dale Murison's direction is strong, although I do feel the script could have been cut back at times to prevent some scenes from lagging. There's a few American-isms that go over the head, but that's only to be expected from a script that ends in 1975. The use of the maid (Cathy Marshall) cleaning up the room between scenes was a neat device allowing the actors to change costumes, but sometimes it went on too long. However, to not have the actors change would be a disservice to Robyn Edwards' excellent wardrobe design.

Along with murder-mysteries, Terry Pratchett adaptations and farce comedies, Brisbane's oldest community theatre specialises in gentle relationship dramas like Same Time Next Year, and this is certainly a decent show. However I hope the Arts continues to run newer and more adventurous shows alongside its trusty stables, in order to increase its audience base into the future.

Performance seen: Saturday 24 March.

Season runs until March 31.

Book on 3369 2344.

Notes on a Scandal

Dame Judi Dench is famous for never watching her own performances on film (with the exception of the James Bond franchise, in which in recent years she has played spy boss M). She claims she dislikes seeing herself on the big screen, and with Notes On a Scandal, I can certainly understand why. Her character is not flattered in any way by the camera – she is all wrinkled skin, thinning hair and narrow eyes. But it’s a shame Dame Judi can’t appreciate what the rest of us do – her magnificent ability to morph into a character and give a performance rich in emotion, depth and sheer bravura.

Dench plays Barbara, a lonely 60-something teacher at an inner-London school. She despises her students, loathes her fellow tutors and writes obsessively about the minute goings-on in her life in her diary. She also has a predilection for picking young females to be her “special friends”, and in this case, it’s fragile art teacher Sheba (Cate Blancett) who catches her eye. Sheba has an imperfect but loving home life, but risks it all when she embarks on an affair with 15-year-old pupil Stephen (Andrew Simpson). Witnessing an illicit encounter, Barbara is initially shocked by Sheba’s behaviour, but soon realises she could twist the situation to her advantage, in order to bind Sheba to her forever.

Notes on a Scandal is an examination of two women who could both be labelled sexual predators, albeit very different types. Dench is a powerhouse as the manipulative Barbara, who has become so embittered by years of desperate solitude that she is incapable of forming natural relationships, relying instead upon lies and manipulations. Watching Barbara gradually encroach on Sheba’s home life in an attempt to isolate her from family members is like watching a lion stalking a confused baby gazelle. However, unlike serial killer-type films, Barbara never loses the essence of humanity, and it’s a tribute to Dench that she can play such a despicable character but keep in touch with what it’s like for society’s outsiders: those left without hope and without love.

Blanchett - as always - gives a wonderful performance as Sheba, the free spirit mother-of-two who embarks on a torrid fling with a student out of a longing to feel young and unburdened by family (her mother is disparaging of her abilities, her husband is 20 years older than her, and their son has Down’s Syndrome). She knows it’s wrong, but persists, helped along by the eagerness of the teenager involved (good work by newcomer Simpson). The rest of the supporting cast is strong, particularly Bill Nighy as Sheba’s distant but loving husband. It’s hard to feel sympathetic for her, considering she brings the drama on herself, but Blanchett plays Sheba’s flaws honestly.

There’s a couple of script problems, mostly to do with the timeline of events, and the quick way Sheba’s family turns on Barbara after laughing with her over lunch just a few scenes earlier. The soundtrack by Philip Glass lifts the tragedy of these everyday lives to an epic scale, though truth be told it’s often distracting and far too loud. It over-compensates for action when in fact silence may have been better. The final scene is appropriate, if somewhat clichéd.

Dench is truly outstanding in this film, and certainly deserves an Oscar, even though she’s likely to be pipped on the night by rival knight Dame Helen Mirren (in The Queen). She’s ably supported here by Blanchett, who unfortunately will be overlooked as the Best Supporting gong will undoubtedly go to popular newcomer Jennifer Hudson for her breakthrough role in Dreamgirls. This is not a film for children, but it is a superb adult drama, that examines on a micro-scale what happens to people who long so much for something to fill the gap in their lonely lives, but have lost any real sense of connection to people who might help them in their quest.

Music and Lyrics

Two things are certain to happen on Valentine's Day: florists will triple their prices for a bunch of roses; and a heartwarming rom-com will open in cinemas to the chagrin of men everywhere. Chagrin because while a rom-com might put their fair ladies in the mood for lurve, they are actually required to accompany said ladies to said films - and we all know they'd much rather be watching something with explosions. Or nudity. Preferably both.

Well, good news fellas. Music and Lyrics, the V-Day 2007 rom-com release, isn't too bad a way to spend 100 minutes of your life. It's a chick-flick, sure, but it's a mostly inoffensive, sweet-but-not-too-sugary story involving pianos, plants and pop music.

Rom-com king Hugh Grant plays the Andrew Ridgely-esque character of Alex Fletcher. Fletcher used to write the music for mega-huge 80s band "Pop", but faded into obscurity when the group's lead singer/lyricist left to find solo success. He makes his living appearing at high school reunions and theme parks, singing his old songs to the delight of his rapidly ageing fanbase. His last chance to reattain pop stardom comes when uber-pop princess Cora Corman (Haley Bennett) asks him to write a duet for them to sing together at an upcoming concert. Desperate to complete the song on time, he realises his plant-watering-girl Sophie (Drew Barrymore) has a knack for lyrics, and enlists her help. As the two begin to fall for each other both at and underneath the piano, Sophie is forced to confront her literary demons (in the shape of a former professor) and Alex must decide if he wants to be forever a "has-been", or step up and start making new music.

The performances are uniformly decent - Grant does that charming yet irrascible thing he does so well, Barrymore is adorable as always and Bennett nails the vaccuous flesh-baring popstar Cora, who's read a pamphlet by an Indian mystic and pays tribute to her newfound spiritualism by wiggling suggestively to songs about Buddha (remember Britney and Kabbalah? That lasted about as long as her Las Vegas marriage). Brad Garrett, otherwise known as the brother from Everybody Loves Raymond, also fits it nicely as Grant's loyal manager Chris, and Kristen Johnson, otherwise known as the daughter from Third Rock From the Sun is hilarious as Sophie's Pop-obsessed older sister.

The story tends to meander, almost as if the film knows it has to hit certain compulsory rom-com plot points (the first passionate encounter, the first argument/hurdle to love, the act of redemption, the final feel-good embrace), but is trying to sneak them up on you. It's no surprise in a film about music to see Alex passionately and publicly declare his love for Sophie with a cute song - after all, Barrymore has a tendency to inspire men to musicality (see The Wedding Singer) - but the music industry in-jokes make up for it. And the song at the heart of the film "Way Back Into Love" really is catchy and original, and I wouldn't be surprised if it made the real Top 40 chart.

However the best reason to see this film is for the fantastic opening sequence, which is a fully-rendered video of the fictional band Pop's greatest hit - "Pop Goes My Heart". It's been in my head now for three days, it's just that good. Or rather, so-bad-it's-good. The filmmakers (led by writer/director Mark "Miss Congeniality" Lawrence) have completely nailed the tone of early-80s music videos, from the bright set and costumes, to the dodgy incorporated love story, shaky camerawork, shonky effects and unimpressed back-up band members, forced to do dance routines instead of play their instruments. Even if the film is not, that song is pure gold.

So blokes, don't be too scared. Sure, it's not Casino Royale, but you'll have to watch a non-Bond movie at some point. This one will at least allow to perve on Haley Bennett's sex kitten, and gawp at Drew Barrymore's puppydog eyes. Happy Valentine's Day.

Employee of the Month

The film industry rails against movie piracy and illegal downloads. Then they go and make stuff like Employee of the Month, and expect people to part with their hard-earned dollars to actually watch it. I don’t condone movie piracy – but after watching this film I can certainly understand it.

(Sometimes I wish that movie studios would just issue press releases containing the outlines of such slacker comedies, let us imagine the movie in our heads, then donate the budget - in this case $12 million - to starving children, or cancer research, or even saving the bottle-nosed tree wallabies.)

Zach (Dane Cook) is a box-boy at the local SuperClub buy-in-bulk discount store, cruising around on roller shoes avoiding as much work as possible. But he’s forced to smarten up when sexy new cashier Amy (Jessica Simpson) arrives, and he discovers she’s got a thing for employees of the month. But standing in his way is Vince (Dax Shepard), the store’s resident hot-shot cashier, with the fastest pricing gun in the west. Vince and Zach battle each other for the title, and the affections of the delectable Amy.

Those who thought Jessica Simpson’s denim cutoffs in The Dukes of Hazzard may have been hiding some acting talent will be sorely disappointed. Once again she is simply the eye candy, appearing in a series of increasingly lower-cut tops in order to display her best assets. It’s almost as if it were designed that way to take your mind off the fact that there is nothing going on behind her big brown eyes. Dane Cook is better – he’s an appealing enough leading man, and does a nice line in slacker-with-a-heart-of-gold charm. Hopefully future projects can make better use of his talents. Shepard is probably the best as the OTT villain of the piece, and his double-act with assistant Jorge (Efren Ramirez) provides some of the “funniest” parts of the film. There’s also a nice cameo from Danny Woodburn (known best as Mickey, Kramer’s “little” friend from Seinfeld) as the store’s owner.

With a predictable plot, this is ultimately a rainy-day-the-house-is-clean-there’s-nothing-to-do-and-it’s-the-only-thing-in-the-video-shop kind of film. If it’s worth watching for any reason, it’s for Jessica Simpson’s breathtaking inability to act. And keep an eye out for her changing skin colour – I suspect an overzealous application of California Fantasy spray-on fake tan.

Blood Diamond

Set in late 1990s Sierra Leone during the country’s devastating civil war, Blood Diamond is the kind of film that will make any girl happy about forsaking the real sparklers for a simulant. Diamonds are supposed to represent love and luxury, but it’s surprising how many people are unaware of the sometimes murky origins of this ultimate bling accessory. It may be an action movie, but you could say Blood Diamond is to the international jewellery industry what An Inconvenient Truth was to climate change.

In Blood Diamond, fisherman Solomon Vandy’s family is torn apart when rebels descend on his village, cutting off hands, terrifying women and children, and kidnapping the strong menfolk to work in their diamond mines. The proceeds from smuggling said diamonds are used to fund their guerrilla campaign, buying guns, drugs and occasionally people. Working at a mine, Vandy risks his life to hide a massive pink rock he finds in his sifter. Eventually, Zimbabwean mercenary Danny Archer (Leonardo DiCaprio) gets wind of his discovery, and makes a deal with Vandy to trade the diamond for his family’s safety. This gets even more complicated when Vandy’s young son Dia is taken away by the rebels to be trained as a child soldier. Also in the mix is Maddy Bowen, an American journalist covering refugee camps until she gets enough credible evidence to bust the conflict diamond trade wide open.

DiCaprio gives a strong, well-rounded performance as Danny, the “Rhodesian” (his own words) dealer in diamonds and weapons, shaped by a tragic youth and brutal military training. But don’t go thinking he’s just a big pussycat who’s had a few tough breaks. Archer is a nasty character who acts entirely out of self-interest, and Di Caprio really does do a commendable job of playing an unappealing a***hole. He can’t completely hide his still-boyish good looks, but his choice of roles (he was nominated for a Golden Globe for both this film and his work in The Departed) shows that the whole Titanic heart-throb thing was just a phase. Djimon Hounsou is wonderful as Solomon Vandy, despite the obvious “noble savage”overtones. His fearsome reaction when his son is threatened is terrifying in its contrast to his otherwise dignified and peaceful nature. Jennifer Connelly’s role is the least developed of the three, but her skill prevents the character of Maddy from becoming simply a clichéd love interest.

With its focus firmly on moving the action along, it’s no surprise that Blood Diamond doesn’t have time to delve further into the history of Africa, colonialism and the continental carve-up that set the wheels in motion for destruction many decades ago. There’s a touching scene where Danny talks about his childhood as a white African, and yes, it’s true, white people have been persecuted on the continent. But the film seems to be trying to compare that to the struggle of native Africans – and there’s just no way it even comes close.

The film’s beautiful camera work and realistic portrayal of brutality and gore (including a frightening street battle in the capital Freetown and an Apocalypse Now-style chopper raid on a diamond mine) is undermined by its weak third act – just when you think the film is going to end, it changes action to another country in an attempt to tie up loose ends and make sure justice is done. It is, after all, an action movie, and certain Hollywood constraints are inevitable, but it would have been almost been nice NOT to see the bad guy receive his comeuppance.

Whether this film will convince people – especially bling-happy brides-to-be – to look closely at where their adornments come from is up in the air. Since the signing of the 2003 Kimberley Process, aimed at stamping out the trade in conflict diamonds, the industry has told us we can buy with confidence. And after all, trying to trace where your rock came from isn’t as easy as, say, checking how much energy your fridge uses or how much carbon your car puts into the atmosphere. But maybe it will encourage people to look at the industry as a whole, and ask themselves whether the multi-national company that mined their diamond treated its workers fairly, and ensured that the countries blessed with this resource are actually profiting from it.