Ranting Details

Franny vs. Catcher

Some of you may remember that I finally got around to reading "The Catcher In The Rye" last spring after years of people orgasming at even the slightest mention of it. I got the standard death-ray glances when I mentioned that I was 20 and still hadn't read this perennial coming of age novel and people constantly stopped me as I held it under my nose to ask me if it was changing my life. While it didn't necessarily revolutionize my thinking I appreciated it deeply and was stunned at how well Salinger was able to write with the voice of a young man. The story was simple but layered for more than you realize on first reading and I look forward to going back and reading it again in the near future.

One such person who stopped me while I was reading it threw me for a loop and said that he had enjoyed "Franny and Zooey" much more than "Catcher," which sent me headed to the bookstore to pick up this book I had never heard of. Of course it is common for one work of a writers' to overshadow the rest (or in this case only other) but I was curious to see what all the fuss was about. In my habitual way, I bought the book in May and stored it on my rapidly increasing bookshelf of unread adventures. Finally last week I decided it was time to get to know these Franny and Zooey folks and delved into Salinger's other work (which had originated as a series of essays in the New Yorker.)

Even more so than "Catcher" I was blown away by the writing in the book. While the story may seem even more mundane than "Catcher" when reading a plot outline, Salinger is able to infuse every details of the world he creates with vivid beauty. He doesn't just place you in a room, he traps you in it (in the best sense) until you know every crack of the wallpaper. Along with the intensely detailed descriptions he writes the most realistic conversations I have ever read. Interactions between Zooey and his mother or sister (Franny) seem as if they are literally happening in front of you. To be able to fill an entire story with a small number of conversations that you can peel back the layers to is wonderful to read. Not only are the actual words meaningful, but the ideas that the novel brings up about conformity and learning to accept the world without fighting it are timeless.

Some of the ideas presented by "Franny and Zooey" didn't become clear to me until looking back on it after I had finished but nothing could be as difficult to decipher as what I am currently delving into....Kafka.

When I was reading "Catcher" I wondered why no one had made a movie of it and was then informed that the Salinger estate is extremely adamant about movies not being made of his works. These two books (like some of the Beethoven music I have been listening to) are so perfect in their original form that I doubt anything more could be brought to them by attempting them in another way. In a world where surely a lot of money could be made turning these into films, it puts a smile on my face to know that some people stick to their artistic ground sometimes. Does anyone know how much truth this holds about the restrictions placed on the books? I'm fairly naive when it comes to my Salinger knowledge so forgive any misinformation.

I would love to hear what others thought of these two books!

Going to Another "State."

It was a busy week at the ballet, and not just rehearsals, for myself and several other dancers in the company. Every so often I follow through on my plan to make it to see City Ballet perform and this week I managed to attend two performances! An effort always needs to be made to show support for other dancers in the community, but scheduling that support can sometimes become difficult. I sympathize with those who are weary after a day of rehearsal and understand that sitting in a theater for an additional two hours is draining but it's also very invigorating. The two programs I saw were vastly different and both had their fair share of excitement.

Having gone to SAB, it is always fun to go and see my friends that I grew up dancing with performing and getting such wonderful opportunities. My binoculars were popping up to catch a glimpse of the faces I used to attend classes with but I had to put them down in order to get a grasp on the whole picture.

The first program I saw was titled "Tradition and Innovation," which included "Mozartiana," "In Vento," and "Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 2." Tuesday was especially taxing at work so I felt as if my mind was a bit saggy and not processing as sharply as I would have liked but I still enjoyed many aspects of this performance. Kyra Nichols was beautiful in "Mozartiana," which has been performed by ABT and has never been one of my favorite Balanchine ballets. The great thing about Balanchine, however, is that even when I do not love the ballet I still can find so much to admire in the musicality and vocabulary that he created.

(I snuck a picture even though the menacing ushers were about to chop my head off.)

His masterful vocabulary was a very clear influence on "In Vento," which was a premiere last season by Mauro Bigonzetti. Contemporary ballet is becoming a bit frustrating because I feel it is all beginning to look a little too similar. This was a Forsythe/Balanchine hybrid of a piece that had some especially striking work for the corps and Benjamin Millipied but as a whole left me a little cold. Contortions of classical positions popped up all over the stage and the piece was exciting with flattering, moody lighting but ultimately just a little long for my tastes. Stradling the line between abstract and narrative, I wasn't quite sure to make of this piece's meaning.

David, Dario and I started talking about something I have brought up with several other dancers recently: the evolution of contemporary classical ballet. To mimic the masters (not that I am insisting that is what this piece did) is not enough anymore but finding a new twist on things is increasingly difficult. Did Balanchine ever feel as if everything had been done before? Or did he just do it with such perfection that he has made it seem as if there is nowhere to go now? Perhaps it was a struggle he never dealt with but has so generously passed on to my generation through his modern masterpieces.

Sunday afternoon brought a whole new batch of works by the master of masters (to paraphrase Bigonzetti's dedication) Mr. Balanchine. I was really looking forward to this program for the chance to finally see "Agon" in person and I wasn't disappointed; this ballet is striking in every sense of the word. The shapes that are created and the difficult musicality are such a joy to watch as are the constantly shifting combinations of people. Duos, trios, quartets, it's all there and was beautifully danced. I especially enjoyed the trio consisting of two men and a woman. With its sudden endings and neo-classical vocabulary, this ballet still feels different than anything else.

Something that I have a feeling I am in the minority about is the fact that a full Stravinsky matinee was a bit overwhelming for me. The complexities of the music and the choreography that it prompts were lessened for me by viewing them in succession like that. By the time the curtain rose on "Symphony In Three Movements" I was beginning to feel a little exhausted. Luckily this ballet is energetic and was executed beautifully, especially by Sterling Hyltin and Wendy Whelan.

I hope to get back to catch City Ballet again before their season is over but that means I am going to have to squeeze it in this week because I go to Europe in 6 days!!!!!

"But You’re Yesterdays Child To Me…."

Looking around the world we walk through every day, sometimes I wish that I could jump into someone else’s brain for just a moment. Would the sensations register in the same way? As a dancer, what would it feel like to suddenly have what you have lacked your whole career? It would be an incredible experience to exist within the mind of someone else like a fly on the wall; aware of what you are experiencing but being able to soak it all in at the same time. I don’t know what it is that got me on this topic tonight but it’s where I am so I guess I will roll with it. Sometimes even more than longing to be someone else for a flash I would want to go back into my brain as a kid.


(Looking into memory lane....only I never wore a leotard or pointe shoes quite like that. Or did I?)

The other day I was left killing a little time in between rehearsals and I started watching the students who are in the ABT-school. Peering in that doorway sent me swirling back into a world that I thought I had forgotten. Years have past since I was a student but the difference in mind- set is immeasurable by the limiting meters of time. It’s odd how the work ethic of dancers changes so much from student to professional and neither one can be said to be “better” than the other. The eyes of the students that I watched the other day contained the same devout following of the craft that is borderline religious…and we all used to be there. Of course I guess dedication is the key to success in any profession but it tends to wane a bit in the professional arena. Perhaps wane is the wrong word….shift?

One thing that has always confused me, and came up a few times this week, is the fact that many dancers I talk to don’t enjoy watching dance. Or at least anymore. There was a time when all my friends and I did in our free time was watch dance videos in the library at NCSA. Do we slowly become jaded? Or is it just development in our education as artists that we progress past? For me I still love to spend as much time as I can in any theater viewing whatever possible but that isn’t always the case.

(I want my apartment to be as much of a sensory overload as Times Square.)

Being jaded doesn’t just sneak into our professional lives, it infests every bit of our being (however minutely.) No place is this more apparent to me than in Times Square. Put any “New Yorker” there and the groans start jutting out of their bodies before they’ve even reached the place. I do anything I can to avoid this neighborhood and when I am there I run in the street like I’m running from the bulls. Proof is in the pictures, however, that this place used to be the epitome of the world to me. I have roll after roll of pictures from my childhood of billboards, stores and theaters all within the ten-block radius I now despise. Suddenly the other day as I sped through on my way to get theater tickets I stopped fighting it and just smiled. It’s nice sometimes to remember the times where you weren’t jaded and “too cool for school.” That’s a hard sensation to call upon the older you get but sometimes letting it in feels great even for a moment. Then your iPod kicks in and Aerosmith’s “Jaded” starts blasting and you’re back under the neon lights.

Songs YOU need to download. 1/27/07

(I have no idea about that picture.)




Everyone is hungry, right? Since its been a while since I force fed you some music I thought today was as fitting a day as any. Here come a few notable songs that have been ringing through my eardrums over the past couple of weeks.



BUY THE iMIX of this List HERE!
"Emily"-Joanna Newsom
Perusing the year end music lists a few weeks back, one name that crept towards the top with little fanfare was Ms. Joanna Newsom. Every once in a while the critics seem to embrace a unique talent even though commercial success is improbable and Newsom is head of that class. Finally while in Brooklyn the other day shopping at an antique store, the woman behind the desk convinced me the album "Y's" was worth purchasing so since I'm impressionable I ran home and iTunes-ed it posthaste. If there is ever a singer that is an acquired taste, it is Joanna Newsom, whose voice first twinges through as a hybrid of Bjork and some long lost Disney character. After multiple listenings to her epic songs (some up to 16 minutes) the beauty begins to pour through. Luscious strings and poetic lyrics combined with her harp skills make interesting food for thought. This recommendation is worth purchasing for the final minute alone.

"Bee Charmer"-Nellie Mckay
"The Big One"-Nellie Mckay
Another critical darling turned commercial disappointment, Nellie Mckay continues to pervade my senses a year after this album was released. These two songs deserve radio-play but seeing that her lyrics have actual content, I assume we will have to continue listening to the Ashlee Simpsons of the world instead.

"All Good Things (Come To An End)"-Nelly Furtado
I can't seem to get enough of Nelly Furtado even though she has completely sold out with this new album. It's an entertaining one nonetheless and this song is the perfect closer which I love listening to when I warm up.

"Greener Pastures"-No Doubt
The other day I began lamenting Gwen Stefani's demise. I know, I know, of all things to lament in the world at this time could I have picked a lamer one? Unfortunately these are the things that take priority in my mind at times and I just roll with it. Flipping through my iPod I decided to pick a seldom listened to "No Doubt" album "The Beacon Street Collection" which was the predecessor to the breakthrough "Tragic Kingdom." This is an excellent album and I love this song especially but it's fairly startling after listening to Gwen "Hollaback" for the past few years.
"Different People"-No Doubt
Just to really drive in the point....this song will make you long for the mid 90's.

"Beautiful"-Lee & LeBlanc from the Shortbus Soundtrack
While I was bored in the hotel in D.C. I purchased the soundtrack to one of my favorite movies of the past year. No surprise, it's a great soundtrack and this song has quickly become one of my favorites.

"Sleeping Lessons"-The Shins
"Sea Legs"-The Shins
I tend to categorize my musical tastes into different moods and for me, there are some artists that no matter what the subject matter of the individual song have a "happy" connection for me. The Shins are one of those groups (as is Sufjan) and I have been pretty pleased with their new album that came out Tuesday. David and I were talking the other day about how basically every Shins song sounds the same but when its good, its good. These two songs seem the most different to me of all of their stuff.

Learning From the Dog.

(This dog had a crowd of observers photographing it as it stood statuesque waiting for its owner. If only I could wait that patiently for anything.)

Disappointment rang loud and clear in the form of a text message the other day. I know that is a slightly hyperbolic statement but its essence is true. Terry Dean Bartlett (who gave me the chance to perform my first piece of choreography at PS 122 last fall) sent me the dates for the next "Dance Off!" show and it overlaps with Met Season by two days. Travesty of travesties, I am itching (yes, I know that sounds old fashioned) to choreograph but have no opportunities in sight. Motivation without parameters has always been difficult for me but I am determined to start working on something nonetheless.

Now with every book I open, every dance I see, every piece of music I hear, I am looking for the blocks to build from. Patience is something that I just don't have right now but it's something I could use in abundance at the moment. When you are constantly looking to be inspired it seems less and less likely to happen. I have made the decision that I want to work on a quartet and aim for something around ten minutes long but there is all this pressure for it to "mean" something. Growing up (thankfully) I was taught to analyze everything but at this moment I want to be able to go in and create movement for movements sake. The only inspiration I have at all right now is a poem I read recently in a Walt Whitman anthology my father gave me for Christmas.

"Once I Pass'd through a Populous City"

Once I pass'd through a populous city imprinting my brain
for future use with its shows, architecture, customs,
traditions,
Yet now of all that city I remember only a woman I casually
met there who detain'd me for love of me,
Day by day and night by night we were together-all else
has long been forgotten by me,
I remember I say only that woman who passionately clung
to me,
Again we wander, we love, we separate again,
Again she holds me by the hand, I must not go,
I see her close beside me with silent lips sad and
tremulous.



I love the idea that in all of the insanity something seemingly so minute in comparison can be the only thing that makes a lasting impact. The invigoration and imprint that people are able to make on us is incomparable and I want to try to translate that feeling into dance. Narrative dance is something that at this stage in my choreography scares me but the feeling of invigoration through interaction is something I want to play with. It also addressees the idea of change that I love so much; acceptance that you have to move on but that ability to recall the moments shared when you need to. Change doesn't obliterate the past.

Musically, I have a few options at the moment but all have their pitfalls. David just gave me a stack of CD's that I am going to shuffle through but I don't want anything too massive in scope. Frontrunner at the moment is a handful of Vivaldi String Concertos. They are short enough in length that I don't feel overwhelmed by any of them but they all seem a bit too "happy" to me. The Beethoven Piano Concertos I am listening to at the moment are stunning but would be better suited to a larger piece. All of this difficulty and not a drip of choreography has spun out yet! Is it masochistic that performing artists thrive on these frustrations?

Lazy Post of the Day. Dance Lessons.

(Please read the following with your best infomercial voice.) Finding a good dance teacher in the city can be hard. Let's face it, finding people that you trust with your artistic life can be hard anywhere and we may search a lifetime to no avail. Good news blog readers! YouTube has not only made celebrities inebriated breakdowns water cooler fodder, but it now can be used as a perfect substitute for dance class. After finding these two clips I can finally rest assured that I will be able to keep my body in shape during the off season. Screw the Jane Fonda or NYCB workout, I present to you the "Down and Dirty Diva Dance Debauchery." First off, a clip that will take a moment or two before the real workout begins. Brought to my attention by my friend Rebecca, I can only assume that didn't grow up watching this because my parents were actively attempting to take all the rainbows and happiness away (or keep me sane depending on who you talk to.) Carol Channing will be your guest instructor for the day. Next up comes the strenuous section so if you have heart problems, diabetes, experience liver and kidney problems or have one eye that occasionally pops out of socket, please refrain from doing the following physical activities until you have discussed it with your doctor. I stumbled on this gem of a routine last year and searched for it on YouTube the moment I saw it with no luck. Well, what a difference a year makes! Now I can share it with you! The incomparable Ann Margaret guides you today. Grab that sweat rag! I know that physical activity can be hard but it's oh so rewarding! As a special treat I would like to offer you this one time only offer. For being such a sexy god (that's right....YOU!) you deserve to lay back, relax and take a nice bath. Bubbles?! That's child's play. Let Ann guide you in this video demonstration of our state of the art spa. Don't be shy! Repetition is good for a healthy living. There is no shame indulging in a workout! Go back for seconds....I won't tell.

Changing the Destination.

Even though I set my phone to silent last night, I awoke early this morning to see the expected call from Mr. David waiting on my missed calls list. As discussed yesterday, we knew that it was time to break the routine of our Lower East Side lazy days and explore a new territory. Putting my faith in his hands, it was only a momentary phone call that led me to discover the destination of choice: Williamsburg.

My knowledge with Williamsburg, Brooklyn is limited to the fact that my wonderful hair-cutter Lisa resides there. If she was to be any indicator, I knew I would love this land across the bridge. Any wandering within Manhattan will bring up its fair share of differences but journey out to the boroughs and the differences expand ten-fold. What was this day to hold in store? Would it be just like Manhattan or would this far away land be as foreign as the Ewok Village? I could only hope.

Periodically I go through the disappointment that I don’t take advantage of the vastness of this great city and today was such a day. As David yelled my name from the L-train I jumped onboard and was wisked away. Emerging from the tunnel to the biting air and non-existent sun I felt as if I had indeed arrived in a little village. My initial reaction carried throughout the day; what makes Williamsburg so different is the community feeling that it carries with it. From the looks of the people I thought maybe I had arrived on the “Hipster Day Parade” but David assured my suspicions that this was the necessary dress code for residing in the borough. Care enough to look like you don’t and act as if this perfectly disjointed outfit accomplished its harmony without any effort. Not quite the Ewoks, but close enough.

I felt like a bit of a poser myself as we wove on and off of Bedford aiming to get lost and discover something new. Conversation got in the way (not that I am complaining) and our discoveries were few and far between. Part of what makes Williamsburg feel so special is the independent merchants that inhabit the streets. Bookshops and coffee shops that bear a name you won’t see anywhere else and then right next to it resides an American Apparel or Brooklyn Industries. Even the boroughs aren’t immune to gentrification as the mid-construction high-rises informed us.

(A great bookshop with an even greater name, "Spoonbill and Sugertown." Eat that Barnes and Noble.)

Something else that caught my attention was the hipsters’ willingness to stop and help us find our way. Like the Munchkins in Oz, they couldn’t always lead the way but they were willing to point a helping hand. My first journey didn’t leave me converted but it sure got me hungry for a second trip.

Where they didn’t point me but where I ended up was as foreign as the borough I had just left; the Bloch Dance Store. Okay, true confession… I have been there before but never to try on pointe shoes as I did this afternoon. Looks like I will be donning the pointe shoes for a small workshop seeing what boys can carry the role of Bottom in “The Dream” this spring. One slip of the shoe and I was about to run from the palace as quickly as Cinderella. Girls, I feel SORRY for you. Those damn things are uncomfortable as the attempt to crumble your feet in their devil grasp. Can’t wait to try to dance in them. Maybe I will got to Williamsburg and try to pass it off as hipster-chic.

(DEVIL!!!!!)

Enjoy my novelization of the day? I've been reading Franny and Zooey all weekend so forgive me.

Gray Parameters.

Are we conditioned to have specific feelings that correspond to the seasons? New York is being hit with its first burst of winter over the past week and as the weather is shifting, so is my brain. I tend to be fairly even-keeled person but sometimes in the grayness of the winter I find myself becoming uncommonly contemplative and frustrated. The bleakness of the day makes me question my purpose and whether or not I am being active enough with my life. Sitting inside all day to avoid the cold weather I grow frustrated that I am not taking charge and DOING anything. The winter can be a lonely time but it seems like I will be staying busy for the next few months.

Gillian, one of my closest childhood friends, just concluded her month-long stay on the East Coast and after two weeks staying with me I am having a little separation anxiety. I constantly deem myself a loner and I mean that in the best sense of the word. I am genuinely happy spending time on my own and entertaining myself. However, after weeks having a roommate for the first time in years I question if I am missing out on something. In all actuality I know I would never want to trade my wonderful studio apartment for the constant roller coaster of roommates but it was nice for a few weeks. Late nights watching movies, eating too much and discussing every topic under the sun was a nice change. With her departure, I feel like it is time to get my brain going and decide a few new goals for myself.

Is it the winter that gives me the whole "life's too short" mentality? Or is it just that I am twenty and supposed to be going through these thoughts at this time in my life? Probably a combination of the two, I tend to worry too much about making a difference and doing something instead of just going it the flow. My friends would ALL tell you that I like to be in control of a situation a little too much. Since it is almost February, I am not going to deem these "New Years Resolutions" but simply, goals because I feel like it can't hurt anyone to sit down and write out a few for themselves.

Reading the New Yorker today, I was struck by a shocking story of a young man from California who is currently on the FBI's most wanted list for treason. His tale of intelligent teenager turned terrorist is startling but also got me thinking about how little I know about world religion and politics. Sure I read the headlines ("Hillary's In It To Win!") but my knowledge behind the words on the printed page is fairly limited. Retaining the information I read seems impossible. I'm like a dry erase board that gets cleaned by the janitor every night. It frustrates me that I have these fleeting moments of caring to learn but can't seem to maintain that interest. With how much time I kill doing nothing during the day, I might as well be reading, however depressing the world may be.

Another goal for myself includes getting the chance to stretch my dramatic muscles when I play Mercutio in "Romeo and Juliet" with Boca Ballet in Florida. I got this offer through Marcelo and Sarah Smith (both will be dancing with me) and I couldn't be more excited about it. Doing a gig that isn't Nutcracker will really give me a chance to develop a character and step out of my comfort zone. I am going to re-read "Romeo" to get a better idea of what I am trying to portray and this experience is really exciting me.

Something I have been wrestling with recently is the idea of selfishness. I struggle with friends who constantly look out only for themselves but then realize that these are the people who I respect so much as artists. Learning to balance selfishness and selflessness has always been a struggle for me and I tend to favor one over the other in differing circumstances. Does artistic fulfillment require a fortitude that can only be described as selfishness? Maybe not entirely, but as my friend Garen told me, I need to start being my biggest promoter. Easier said than done.

For me, I have to work on things within parameters so these goals are attempting to set some. When I look at these goals on paper they seem a bit foolish but then maybe its just the grayness of the weather seeping into my mind.

Double Feature: Creating The World.

Working above a movie theater can prove to be tempting and tonight I indulged in that temptation mightily. Lacking any exciting plans to start my weekend I did a spontaneous stag double feature of “Children of Men” and “Dreamgirls.” On paper these movies couldn’t be more different but as I sat watching the four hours I noticed many similarities.

During my week on tour in D.C., I was flipping through a book about the character Iago in “Othello” and the introduction had a few things to say that caught my eye. Some of the dancers had discussed why we thought Iago was as villainous as he is and this book was attempting to enlighten me. The key to his unanswerable motivation is that we are thrown into a world in which we just believe it. We don’t need the exposition to be detailed to death because Shakespeare has created such a believable setting. “Children of Men” and “Dreamgirls” succeed and fail, respectively, at that very task.

The interesting thing is that “Children of Men” creates a more realistic futuristic world that you don’t doubt it for a moment. “Dreamgirls” on the other hand takes place in a world that we have seen and know, the 1960’s. The trick comes with the fact that “Dreamgirls” is a musical, which is the downfall in the creation of its “world.” The sloppy direction by Bill Condon and the failure to establish it early on as a musical doesn’t present his cinematic world faithfully enough. “Children of Men,” a movie about faith in hopeless times has the audience on the edge of their seat because we believe it. On second viewing “Dreamgirls” still leaves me fairly cold.

I am not willing to give “Dreamgirls” any slack just because it’s a musical. What is comes down to is having a talented director and integrating all aspects of the movie to create the larger picture. The musical world takes slight suspension of belief but so does the ballet world and look how convincingly Macmillan created “Romeo and Juliet” without any words at all. A vocabulary has to be created and adhered to which is what Alfonso Cuaron does so well with “Children of Men.” I believe it is possible to translate stage work to a new medium with success, it just isn’t easy.

What a world Cuaron creates! From the moment the film begins until the abrupt ending, the movie presents a future in which all women are infertile. Pandemonium has taken over and warfare has broken out all over. It attempts to grapple with the question of life’s worth when there is no more life being created. Can there still be hope in a world where all that awaits seems to be mortality? What I love so much about the movie is that it takes place in 2027 yet manages to be a startling commentary on the world today. Like in Cuaron’s world, fear seems to be what keeps the world spinning at the moment and yet we trudge on full of hope that there will be a better tomorrow. However unwarranted the fighting might be, it is propelled by the government and every action is for someone’s political gain. I like to refer to “Children of Men” as “Little Miss War of The Worlds” because of its road trip story line that dances with apocalyptic fear so beautifully.

Clive Owen gives a great performance as a man who learns to keep his chin up even in the face of a bleak world. He is surrounded by other great performances in the cast of characters he meets on his road-trip and there is a car bit just like in “Little Miss Sunshine,” which even gets a laugh. On top of incredible subject matter, the cinematography is stunning and a few shots really caught my attention for their beauty even amid the chaos. He makes images that recall present day Iraq poetic in their destruction. All of these factors add up to a great movie showing a world without the innocence of children to keep us going. Hope and faith (no, not the Kelly Rippa show) are discussed without feeling preachy even for a moment. To go from “Harry Potter” to this film pushes Cuaron to the top of my favorite directors list. Bill Condon on the other hand? Not so much.

"Notes On" A Few Things.

Coming back from a difficult week of touring, it’s nice to feel that leisurely nights on the town aren’t a liability. After one of the least taxing days at work in a long time, Dario, David, and Marian accompanied me to dinner and a movie. As we rushed up through the crowds of people to Times Square I had no idea that my leisurely day would be offset by the tension of “Notes On a Scandal.”

When the movie begins it immediately feels like two scoops of your favorite ice cream seeing Cate Blanchett and Dame Judi Dench on screen together for the first time. Delectable doesn’t even begin to describe the sensation and leaving the movie I feel like I would enjoy if they became the new Cheech and Chong; I could watch them poop and be entertained. These two actresses give the expectedly nuanced, riveting performances but both accomplish it in unexpected roles.

The movie deals with what I like to think of as the idea that repression breeds obsession. Judi Dench is a schoolteacher hungry for love in her life with such ravenous obsession it borders on psychotic. Cate Blanchett, the object of her affection, is a new schoolteacher who has an affair with her 15-year-old art student. Not exactly an ABC Family movie of the week. I always love watching films where despicable characters end up winning your sympathy and in many ways both of these characters are such women. It becomes a movie about much more than that and one of my favorite themes is best described in the line “we are bound together by the secrets we share.” Sometimes we are inexplicably connected to those whom we least expect to share life with. That can either prove to be a godsend or our downfall as friendships take their unexpected turns.

As much as I enjoyed both of the actresses, I wasn’t blown away by the movie but enjoyed it very much. I often don’t notice the importance of music in a film until it doesn’t fit. This was the case with Philip Glass’ score for the first half of the movie. It seemed there was an effort to create Hitchcock-ian suspense but the first half of the movie didn’t warrant the bombastic sounds countering the subtle tones of the acting. A minor complaint for an otherwise spectacular production where not enough can be said for the two leading ladies.

Time seems to have swept away the weekend but I guess this is a good moment to do a little Golden Globes dishing. As much as I realize the Award Shows that saturate my mind this time of year are cheap rewards for politically pushed Hollywood agenda’s, I can’t help but buy into it. However, when even the biggest musical theater fan is amazed that Jennifer Hudson is beating Cate Blanchett, you know something is wrong.

(Gillian toasts the awards show as we are glued to the television like Poltergeist.)

Since I was a kid I have always been taught that picking “winners” for any artistic effort is impossible because of its subjectivity. Yet each year these shows come around and try to tell us what is important. Wouldn’t it be nice to finally see the artistic films of the year getting rewarded instead of the ones with the biggest “For Your Consideration” ads in Variety? Or what if, drumroll please, we did away with the awards and just had the red carpet specials?!

With how quickly we as a culture like to crown the best and brightest I am amazed that there are no Ballet Awards yet. Seemingly everything else subjective is being judged in a restrictive manner so why not throw the fine arts in as well? Even as I ramble on I realize my own hypocriticalness (is that really a word?) because we all judge everything, it’s called opinion. Yet a lavish ceremony to celebrate a small percentages opinion and deem it gospel truth? I think we could do without. Perhaps I am still bitter over “Brokeback Mountain” losing last year.

I just get a little confused at how much attention is lavished upon these ceremonies. The whole world seems to be paying attention to our red carpets and Hollywood events yet I know practically nothing about WORLD pop culture insanity. This came up at dinner and in an effort to fix this, Dario enlightened me. Being the wonderful Argentinean that he is Dario let us know about Xuxa, a former porn star turned children’s television guru (think Pee-Wee but slightly reversed) whom he grew up watching and I’d like to share her with you. This is now my only artistic inspiration. Look for “Xuxa: The Ballet” coming soon. It just goes to prove that children’s television is scary in any language. Perhaps this should be Blanchett and Dench’s next outing?
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoDpaYdcad4]