Weekly Wilson - Blog of Author Connie C. Wilson - Welcome to WeeklyWilson.com, where author/film critic Connie (Corcoran) Wilson avoids totally losing her marbles in semi-retirement by writing about film (see the Chicago Film Festival reviews and SXSW), politics and books----her own books and those of other people. You'll also find her diverging frequently to share humorous (or not-so-humorous) anecdotes and concerns. Try it! You'll like it!

A Trip Down Music Lane: Campaign, 2004

On November 29, 2009

(* This report, written in October of 2004 about the Vote for Change concerts that various artists undertook during the 2004 Presidential campaign in support of John Kerry and John Edwards. The concert was in Ames. I am reprinting it from www.blogforiowa.com, where it is in the archives, because it is pretty funny.)
Connie submits this report from her cross-state Democratic Road Trip with “the daughter.”

The daughter and I returned from our SIX-HOUR concert about 1:30 a.m. last night. I cannot remember a concert where I drew Snoopy on the left ankle of the young man behind me (in red ink) and then, on his right ankle, played tic-tac-toe with my daughter. (It was a draw.) Plus, I sprayed BOTH of the young man’s feet with Burberry perfume (from my purse) since they were really smelly feet, which he insisted on parking on the arms of MY chair. At one point, he grabbed my notebook and wrote in it, “I have no idea what you are doing here. I can’t see sh-t, but keep this. Thanks and bye.” Earlier, I heard him and his friends discussing how I had “probably remembered every President back to Lincoln.” The sad thing is, they are right. He kids me about “growing up in the seventies” and wants to know if I ever “smoked reefer.” I feel flattered that he thinks I “grew up in the 70’s.” That makes me much younger than I am, so I am enjoying that comment. As for the reefer question: allergic, you know. Only contact highs. I respond, “Yes, but I never inhaled,” thinking he will get the joke. He does not.

In the parking lot afterwards, while waiting for the cars to move out to the road, the car ahead of us contains a fake snake. One of the young college men in the party puts the snake between his legs and gyrates (like a Chippendale Dancer).The snake looks very real, so I roll my car windows up. The daughter, who is beginning to sound a little like Typhoid Mary, says, “Why are you rolling up the windows?” I pretend it is for her health. It is really because I fear that the kid with the snake might gyrate over to us and do God-knows-what.

Neil Young (of the old days…Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young) comes onstage at one point with the Dave Matthews Band and plays (a “surprise” performance). My notes, at that point: “They are holding this guitar note for so long that pain will soon ensue. They are all watching Neil, for a ‘sign.’ He has, apparently, forgotten the sign. I am beginning to think that the “sign” is that your ears begin to bleed. Neil looks like Howard Hughes on a bad day. He is engaged in some sort of guitar death throe. Some blonde woman comes onstage with him, but I don’t think anyone has a clue who she is (I know I don’t). I ask, but the boys behind me have passed out, and nobody else can hear me over the guitar punishment. Yikes!

The new camera (Olympus digital), which was fully charged before the concert, only ran for 2 hours. The concert lasted 6. [Thank God for my trusty little Canon]. The daughter got pictures of “My Morning Jacket,” “Jurassic5,” and “Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals,” but where was my digital camera when the Main Act came onstage? Why, dead, of course. As I fear I will be after this six-hour marathon.

At one point, Ben Harper plays a song called “Burn One Down,” which either has to do with forest fires or smoking marijuana. Other lyrics I hear, but don’t know: “Kick your b-tt.” “Plastic.” “F— the pResident.” “I always have to steal my kisses from you.” “This is a song about freedom. There’s some people who smoke a lot of weed, cause some of those [bleep] haven’t gotten off the couch for two years. Then, that [bleep] wanders out in to the street holdin’ his remote and getting his groove on. If you ain’t where you want to be in your life, put the bong down, Homey.” This brings on “Burn One Down,” which seems to involve a haze of illegal smoke. “Your choice is who you choose to be. We are gonna’ burn one down.”

Good to see that our college students are becoming more articulate every day. Gives one hope. I hope they don’t burn anything down while I am inside it.

Back to lyrics: “No lives for bu—sh–.” “He offered life in sacrifice, so others could go on.” Neil Young sings (if you can call it that), “It was just a legend. War was never known. The people were together, and they lifted many stones.” I’m thinking this might be “Along the Watchtower,” but I really am not “into Neil Young. He looks like the Crypt-Keeper, from television, at this point in his career. None of the young kids there know who he is, or who the old blonde with him is. Then there is something about dancing across the water. Neil seems somewhat uncoordinated, so I don’t think he will be doing any dancing across water or any other surface any time soon. It is as though Bigfoot has been taking guitar lessons and has been unleashed upon us.

I know three songs all night long, including the Dave Matthews Band encore song “Too Much” from the “Crash” album; “Keep on Rockin’ in the USA” and a version of Buffalo Springfield’s, “There’s somethin’ happenin’ here; Stop, Baby! What’s that sound? Everybody look what’s goin’ down.” This is repeated about 20 times. I remember it was used in a documentary about the Vietnam War that I used to show my 7th grade students. At one point, trying to be friendly, I say, to the black guy next to me, “I took her to her first Dave Matthews Band concert when he had “Under the Table and Dreaming” out. She was ten.” The guy says, “Oh. Yeah. I remember that concert. I passed out halfway through it.” O………K.

Now, Neil plays TAPS on his guitar. Why? We don’t know. Dave and the others are sort of glassy-eyed, mesmerized, staring at Neil. This concert has lasted a Looooong time. Someone please make Neil quit!!! The drunk guys from St. Joseph’s, Missouri, or Joplin, Missouri, have all passed out, which is when and why I draw Snoopy on one of their ankles.

The girl ahead of me is wildly flailing her arms like a windmill. Too much caffeine, I’m thinking. This girl is known, henceforth, as “Hyperactive Girl,” or HG. Every time I try to take a shot, she pumps her fist in the air just as I shoot. I have a lot of photos of her fist(s).

As usual, I attempt to pick out “bobbleheads” in the arena, which are people who are making absolute fools of themselves. My God! This must be the Bobblehead Convention. The violin guy onstage is going nuts, and the guy wearing the Number One jersey with the page boy bob haircut is doing something that I can only describe as NOT likely to impress anyone.

The drunk or stoned guy behind me (“Max”, says his NAME TAG) keeps trying to bump my arm as I take notes, and, at one point, he actually tries to relieve me of my notebook. But I’m too quick for him.

Ms. Hyperactive is now resorting to rabbit-like punching in the air. The guy she is with is very tall and looks like the one who once played Claire’s boyfriend on “Six Feet Under.” He is wearing a shirt that says “America’s Music Festival to End All Festivals” while his girlfriend has on a “Farm Aid, September 18th” shirt. I fear for Ms. Hyperactive’s safety, as she is so out-of-control that I think she is going to fall over the balcony railing any minute.

Neil (Young) is doing some kind of geriatric jig. Someone make Neil quit. Please.

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“2012” Smashes World-wide Movie Box Office

By Connie Wilson

On November 25, 2009

In Movies, Reviews

I’m going to come right out and say I liked the smash blockbuster movie of the season, using a direct quote from “2012:” “Oh, baby! Bring it on!”

I put off going to the opening weekend of the Roland Emmerich-helmed CG extravaganza because I thought that it would be as boring as I found Will Smith’s last ill-advised foray as super-hero Hancock (opposite Charlize Theron), but I’ve got to say that “2012” was fun to watch, and the world apparently agrees with me.

“2012’s” domestic gross was $65.2 million, but that was just 28% of the story, as it took in $230.4 million worldwide over the weekend. It smashed the competition (primarily Jim Carrey’s Disney movie “A Christmas Carol” in England and, in the United States, where the take for “2012” was almost 3 times what Scrooge was able to muster ($65.2 versus $22.3).

I’ve got some thoughts about why this movie from the creator of “Independence Day” and “The Day After Tomorrow” is doing so well. It is cleverly constructed to prey on all the gloom-and-doom news stories of the day. About the only topical disaster that doesn’t weigh in is H1N1 or a virus-to-be-named later. But the movie works, and works well, primarily because it has colossal special effects and who doesn’t want to see Las Vegas, the Santa Monica Pier, Washington, D.C., and New York’s Times Square blown to smithereens. It’s fun seeing Vatican City collapse on the faithful and the Washington Monument almost take the President out, even if the movie does run a tad long at 2 hours 38 minutes. But who cares? It’s “Earthquake,” “The Perfect Storm,” “Towering Inferno,” and “The Poseidon Adventure” all rolled into one. (*I once took a busload of 8^th grade students to see a double-bill featuring “Earthquake” and “Towering Inferno,” which we dubbed “The Shake-and-Bake Special.”)

This film cost a quarter of a million dollars and 1,000 people at 15 separate special effects companies used 500,000 tons of steel and a blue screen 60 feet long to come up with some of the fun stuff. Fun if you like Mayan calendar predictions of disaster and cheesy dodging of cracking highways in a limo driven by John Cusack (much like the boulder chasing Harrison Ford in “Indiana Jones”) and all kinds of conflict set up for the ‘bad guy,” whose name is—rather cleverly in an obvious way)—Mr. Annheuser. (So, class, what do you automatically think when you hear the word “Annheuser?”)

One reason I liked the flick is that the cast is a very good one, even if the script really just takes us along for the CG ride. John Cusack is a familiar face (especially to those of us with Chicago connections) and he is the center of the film, playing struggling author-turned-limo driver Jackson Curtis for a Russian billionaire. He and his wife, Amanda Peet, are apparently separated and she has a live-in boyfriend, played by Tom McCarthy, a plastic surgeon and, coincidentally, the director of “The Visitor” and “The Station Agent.” McCarthy is coming at us again as an actor in “The Lovely Bones” next month.

Chiwetel Ejiofor, who played Huey Lucas in “American Gangster” and will soon be onscreen opposite Angelina Jolie in “Salt”, plays the black scientist, Adrian Helmsley. Two child actors round out the original Curtis family, one played by Morgan Lily, who was the lemonade-stand girl on “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” and one played by Liam James as Noah Curtis. People old enough to remember George Segal in his prime will enjoy seeing him again, and we must mention Thandie Newton as Laura Wilson, President Wilson’s (Danny Glover’s) daughter.

Oliver Platt gets to do the honors as the self-serving Annheuser, who provokes a debate on whether we mere peons down in the valley deserve to be told that the largest tidal wave in history is on its way, so batten the hatches! Annheuser, of course, is much more interested in “saving” the mucky-mucks, including the government and anyone with one billion Euros to buy a seat on one of the Arks being built in China. Annheuser’s attitude provokes debates between his character of a party-line politician and the good-hearted Dr. Helmsley (Chiwetel Ejiofor) who asks, “When do we let the people know?” and “I think people have a right to know.” Other lines suggest that, “The moment we stop caring for one another, that’s when we lose our humanity,” and “we mustn’t start our future with an act of cruelty.” Annheuser takes a much more hard-line approach (“What did you think? We were all just going to join hands and sing Kumbayah?”)

Woody Harrelson as the Dr. Demento of Yellowstone, radio’s Charlie Frost, predicting the Armageddon that is about to occur, is a hoot, but he’s much better served by his recent turn in “The Messenger,” where he plays straight. [I fear that Woody is going to become typecast in roles like “Zombieland” and this, with fewer serious roles in the mix, if he isn’t careful, but I’m sure the payday for this film was worth it. I remember thinking that Gary Busey would have done the part proud, as well.]

Sure, there are things that seem very inauthentic, like the limo driving as the road collapses and the plane making it off the runway as the runway disappears and the “it’s a suicide mission” bit aboard the Ark, but it’s a fun CG movie. Its awesome special effects should garner Oscar nominations come March.

Here are some other things that I found interesting, besides the bogus charge that the Mayans thought the world would end in 2012 because their calendar ended then (there have been active denials of this by official Mayan spokesmen, …whoever they are.)

A long list of “wrong” things or anachronisms in the movie exists on the Internet data-base IMDB, including the fact that aircraft carriers don’t paint the name of the ship on the ship’s deck, as appears with the carrier USS JFK that is swept to its doom. Besides that, the USS John F. Kennedy (CV-67 was decommissioned and mothballed in 2007, residing in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard now. The keen-eyed also noticed that, when Vegas is destroyed, there is a sign advertising Bette Midler’s Show, which is scheduled to end in January, 2010. I noticed that the Virgin Records store sign is still up in Times Square in New York City, although the last store closed in June of 2009 (in Los Angeles).

The script is ponderous, of course, with bad Russian accents to boot, and much pontificating (“Our culture is our soul and that’s not dying tonight.” “The moment that we stop caring for one another, that’s when we lose our humanity.”) The science, (for someone who dropped out of Physics after one day) was basically mumbo-jumbo, and I feel fairly certain that 1,578 miles of the Earth’s crust displacing because of temperatures rising across the globe is not my biggest concern.

But the thing that this film does so expertly is weave the rampant paranoia abroad in the land into a maelstrom of “fear and chaos spreading throughout the land,” (as the film’s own script puts it). Only 400,000 people can be saved. “I’m comin’ home, Dorothy” may or may not be a reference to the Wizard of Oz, but it’s definitely the case that one producer is from Wisconsin, so Cheeseheads everywhere will be happy to learn that there are at least three references to Wisconsin, including the fact that, after the Apocalypse, either the North or South Pole has relocated there.

And let’s give credit to Graham Hancock who wrote the novel “Fingerprint of the Gods” on which all this craziness is based. The scripting by Roland Emmerich (the director) and Harald Kloser leaves a lot to be desired, but who cares when we’re ramming speed in the race to self-destruction. (“We caused this thing; it was us!”)

Philip Seymour Hoffman Rocks on in “Pirate Radio”

By Connie Wilson

On November 15, 2009

In Music, Pop Culture, Reviews

“Pirate Radio” (also known as “The Boat That Rocked”), written and directed by Richard Curtis, is the true story of a pirate radio boat operating on frequency 203 in the North Sea off the coast of England, a floating radio station that broadcast rock and roll to England, in defiance of the government. Ninety-three per cent of the British public liked the music, but the authority in charge, assisted by a character named “Twatt,” is determined to pass a new law, called the Marine Offenses Act, to outlaw the format and the station.

Cast as the man who is determined to stomp out the affront to civilization that rock and roll represents is Kenneth Branagh as Sir Alistair Dormandy. (Branagh’s ex-wife, Emma Thompson, also has a small cameo as the glamorous Charlotte, mother of Young Carl, played by Tom Sturridge.)

The log line for the movie is “1 boat. 8 DJ’s. No morals.”

Philip Seymour Hoffman plays The Count, an American DJ whose prominence at the station is challenged by the reappearance of popular disc jockey Gavin Cavanagh, played by Rhys Ifans, whom fans will remember as Hugh Grant’s kooky side-kick in “Notting Hill.”

Also recognizable from “Flight of the Conchords” is the actor playing Angus, Rhys Darby, who provides some—but not all—of the comic relief. The funny lines are numerous, so Angus is only a tiny part of the overall humor.

It’s a bit disconcerting to view Rhys Ifans (formerly seen primarily in comic roles such as the Brit who attached helium balloons to a lawn chair to go airborne) as an irresistible chick magnet who says things like “This is Gavin, tweaking the nation’s nipples.”

One of my favorite lines from the movie was Philip Seymour Hoffman declaring “Why am I so fat?” while challenging Gavin Cavanagh to a “chicken” contest involving mast-climbing, a contest designed to punish Cavanagh for an offense to fellow DJ Simon (Chris O’Dowd). When Gavin (Ifans) first returns to the floating radio station, he character says (to Hoffman), “You’re the Count: what does that make me? The King?” To which Hoffman responds, “Or the Joker.”

Oh, it’s on!

The film has a subplot (which is a bit like a Maury Povich episode), involving determining which member of the ship may (or may not) have fathered Young Carl. There is still more humor from a character called Thick (misspelled on his cabin door as “Thikc”) Kevin (Tom Brooke).

The soundtrack for the film is outstanding. It was supervised by Nick Angel and features songs like “My Generation” from “The Who.” There’s also a bit part played by January Jones as Elenore. (Jones plays Betsy on “Mad Men.”)

It’s a film you might miss, because it doesn’t have the huge advertising budget of “2012,” but it is going to be infinitely more satisfying and way funnier.

25+ Romantic Films for the Mature Film-goer…

By Connie Wilson

On November 11, 2009

In Movies, Pop Culture

In looking for the “Most Romantic Films for Audiences Over 50,” I couldn’t narrow it down to 10, but went for 25 and The Films of Richard Gere. Hope you like it. Let’s hear your nominees!

1) “The African Queen” (1951) – Katharine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart are Charlie Allnut and Rose Sayer in a Jon Huston-direcxted film based on a C.S Forester novel.

2) “The Quiet Man” (1952) – John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara in a John Ford film.

3) “From Here to Eternity” (1953) – Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster in the surf on the beach, with an all-star cast including Montgomery Clift, Donna Reed, Frank Sinatra in a come-back role, Ernest Borgnine and Jack Warden in a film directed by Fred Zinneman.

4) “Sabrina” (1954) – Audrey Hepburn in a love triangle with Humphrey Bogart and William Holden.

5) “Picnic” (1955) Who can forget the sexy dance performed by William Holden and Kim Novak?

6) “Marty” (1955) – Misfit butcher Ernest Borgnine won an Oscar as a less-than-handsome man looking for love, and finding it in Betsy Blair’s Clara Snyder. Paddy Chayefsky story and screenplay.

7) “The King and I” (1955)- Deborah Kerr as Anne Leonowens and Yul Brynner in the role of his life as King Mongkut of Siam.

8) “An Affair to Remember” (1957) – Deborah Kerr and Cary Grant as Tory McKay and Nickie Ferrante, and a great theme song.

9) “Raintree County” (1957) – Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift.

10) “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” (1961) – Audrey Hepburn as Holly GoLightly in a Blake Edwards-directed film from the Truman Capote novel, with George Peppard as Paul and Buddy Ebsen as the ghost of her past.

11) “Splendor in the Grass” (1961) – Natalie Wood as Wilma “Deanie” Loomis and Warren Beatty as Bud Stamper, in an Elia Kazan-directed film from writer William Inge.

12) “Love with the Proper Stranger” (1963) – Steve Mcqueen is Rocky Papasano and Natalie Wood is Macy’s shopgirl Angie Rossini, struggling with the fact that abortion is highly illegal in 1963.

13) “Dr. Zhivago” (1965) – David Lean directed Omar Sharif as Dr. Yuri Zhivago and Julie Christie as Lara.

14) “This Property is Condemned” (1966) – A Syndey Pollack film from a Tennessee Williams screenplay, which Francis Ford Coppola scripted and which starred Natalie Wood as Alva Starr and Robert Redford as Owen Legate.

15) “Barefoot in the Park” (1967) – Jane Fonda and Robert Redford are Paul and Core Bratter in this Neil Simon play, and thenlove breaks out between Charles Boyer, as Victor Velasco, and Mildred Natwick as Ethel Banks, the mother-in-law.

16) “Love Story” (1970) – Arthur Heller directed this film from Erich Segal’s book (and screenplay) starring Ryan O’Neal and Ali MacGraw.

17) “Ryan’s Daughter” (1970)- Sarah Miles and Christopher Jones in another David Lean film, from a script by Richard Bolt.

18) “Grease” (1978) – John Travolta as Danny Zuko and Olivia Newton-John as Sandy Olsson made summer romance fun.

19) “The Postman Always Rings Twice” (1981) – It was hot the first time, with Lana Turner, and Jessica Lange and Jack Nicholson did this Bob Rafaelson screenplay project justice, even if it does involve scheming to kill Jessica’s husband.

20) “Dirty Dancing” (1987) – Patrick Swayze is Johnny Castle and “nobody puts Baby in the corner.” Jennifer Grey played Frances “Baby” Houseman (pre-nose-job) and Jerry Orbach was her dad.

21) “No Way Out” (1987) – Kevin Costner and Sean Young getting it on in a limo. Hot, hot hot.

22) “When Harry Met Sally” (1989) – Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan. The most romantic thing about the movie is/are the cameos at the end with real-life couples who have been together for decades.

23) “Ghost” (1990) – Demi Moore and the late Patrick Swayze as Sam Wheat and Molly Jensen.

24) “Sleepless in Seattle” (1993) – Nora Ephron directed Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. Later they’d try “You’ve Got Mail,” but not as successfully.

25) “The Bridges of Madison County” (1995) – Richard LaGravenese wrote the screenplay based on the Robert James Waller novel, and Clint Eastwood was Robert Kincaid, the roving photographer who catches the eye of Iowa farm wife Francesca Johnson (Meryl Streep).

And last, but certainly not least, no list would be complete without the category: The Romantic Films of Richard Gere (at least those that worked). “Yanks” (1979); “American Gigolo” (1980); “An Officer and a Gentleman” (1982); “Breathless” (1983); “No Mercy” (1986); “Pretty Woman” (1990); “First Knight” (1995). There’ve been a couple of others from Richard that I won’t mention, but “Unfaithful,” where Richard plays the cuckolded husband to Diane Lane’s unfaithful wife, was romantic…just not for Richard.

I would have mentioned “It Happened One Night” (1934) and “Casablanca” (1942), but I added 10 years to someone who is “over 50” (meaning born in 1959) and, while those films definitely belong on the list, you’d be definitely “over 50” and probably over 80, if you saw Clark (Gable) and Claudette (Colbert) when that Oscar-nominated film was new. For today’s movie-goers (of which I am one), let’s not forget the very recent Best Picture of the Year, “Slumdog Millionaire,” a love story for the ages.

What Do Nicole Kidman, Kris Kristofferson and Barbra Streisand Have in Common?

By Connie Wilson

On November 9, 2009

In Movies, Pop Culture, Reviews

The answer? They lead the list of The 10 Worst Actor/Actress Onscreen Pairings

It is going to become painfully obvious that I have spent waaay too much time in a darkened theater as I share with you some horrible screen pairings it has been my misfortune to suffer through, first as an avid filmgoer since birth and second, as a film critic for 15 years. These are in no particular order, and the reasons I feel these were horrible pairings are subjective, to be sure, but let me begin.

In no particular order, the films are:

1) “The Human Stain” – Anthony Hopkins and Nicole Kidman

2) “Eyes Wide Shut” – Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman

3) “Dracula” – Gary Oldman and Winona Ryder

4) “Harold and Maude” – Ruth Gordon and Bud Cort

5) “The Way We Were” – Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand

6) “The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea” – Kris Kristofferson and Sarah Miles

7) “6 Days, 7 Nights” – Harrison Ford and Anne Heche

8) “Fair Game” – Billy Baldwin and Cindy Crawford

9) “A Star Is Born” – Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson

10) “At Long Last Love” – Cybill Shpeherd and Burt Reynolds

Let me explain.

There are some very great actors/actresses on this list who, nevertheless, had absolutely no onscreen chemistry with their leading man or leading lady. Sometimes, I fear, it is because that actor (or actress) is simply better suited to character actor parts. Other times, it is quite surprising, because the individuals in question were actually “an item.”

Take Nicole Kidman on this list, for example. I have listed her starring role in Stanley Kubrick’s last complete film, “Eyes Wide Shut,” where she starred opposite her then husband Tom Cruise as Alice Hartford (1999). I have also listed her opposite the much-too-old-for-her Anthony Hopkins in her role as the semi-literate Faunia Farley, opposite Anthony Hopkins’ Coleman Silk in “The Human Stain,” a 2003 Robert Benton-directed film (script by Nick Meyer, an old college classmate) based on a 2000 Philip Roth novel. Casting Anthony Hopkins as a (secretly) black man and Nicole Kidman as a cleaning woman (semi-literate, as well) was just the beginning of this film that garnered some “rotten tomato” awards. It was as thoroughly miscast as it is humanly possible to be, and the premises upon which the film rested were also dated. (Coleman is railroaded from his job as a university professor for asking, of some MIA African-American students, in his class, if they were “spooks.”) The idea that Welshman Hopkins is secretly black was hard to swallow. (The younger version of Hopkins was well-played by “Prison Break’s” Wentworth Miller, but even that did not help.) But Nicole was also bad opposite Tom Cruise as Shannon Christie in the 1992 epic “Far and Away” and even before that, in “Days of Thunder” in 1990. Let’s face it. While Nicole Kidman (and certainly Anthony Hopkins) are great actors, everyone has their limits, and when you’re miscast, you’re miscast. Since three of these films involve Kidman opposite Tom Cruise, it would seem that they were a mismatch in more ways than one. No onscreen chemistry. Zip. Zero. Nada.

Second-highest scorer on the “no charisma as sexy lead player in a romance” might go to Gary Oldman, who is a very competent character actor but lacks in the romance department. Following Frank Langella’s mesmerizing role as “Dracula,” he was very disappointing opposite Winona Ryder in that Francis Ford Coppola film, and he wasn’t much better in “The Scarlet Letter” (1995) opposite Demi Moore as the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale, nor in the film “Romeo Is Bleeding” (1993) as Jack, opposite the sexy Lena Olin. Where Oldman shines is in work such as his spot-on impersonation of Lee Harvey Oswald in Oliver Stone’s 1991 film “JFK.” As a romantic leading man? Not so much.

Barbra Streisand makes the list twice, once opposite Kris Kristofferson in “A Star Is Born” and once opposite Robert Redford in “The Way We Were.” I blame the lack of “sparks” more on Kristofferson in the first, a role that was first offered to (but turned down by) Elvis Presley. Kristofferson has all the charismatic acting ability of a board. He reminds me of an old Keanu Reeves. This is also by way of explaining why “The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea” floundered and sank. More Kristofferson; less Sarah Miles. In “The Way We Were” Streisand/Redford proved that the ugly duckling does not always grow up to become the beautiful swan, and that the saying, “opposites attract” can only carry you so far. It only carried this movie so far, despite Marvin Hamlisch’s best efforts.

“Harold and Maude” is a cult classic, and I loved the flick, but the plot is about a romance between a 20-year-old youth obsessed with death and suicide (Bud Cort) and a 79-year-old woman, played by the indomitable Ruth Gordon. I’m all for cougars, but there are limits.

“6 Days, 7 Nights” was a plot that paired Harrison Ford with Anne Heche, who, at the time, was an ‘out” lesbian. There were absolutely no sparks of any kind between the leads and do we wonder why? Harrison Ford recreating Humphrey Bogart’s role opposite Julia Ormond in “Sabrina” (with Greg Kinnear in the William Holden role) was also not a hit, although the film’s score was awesome.

“Fair Game” had William Baldwin (the thin Baldwin) cast as Detective Max Kirkpatrick and model Cindy Crawford of Dekalb, Illinois trying to segue successfully to the big screen from her lucrative modeling career, playing Kate McQuean. The film is horrible, and Crawford was awful in it.

Last, and perhaps least, Burt Reynolds and Cybill Shepherd somehow got the idea that they could sing and carry a musical in the much-maligned “At Long Last Love” and the less said about that, the better.

Halloween Book Signing in Chicago on Oct. 31, 2009

By Connie Wilson

On November 2, 2009

In Books, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest

The book signing at “Centuries & Sleuths” in Forest Park on October 31, 2009 from 2 to 4 p.m. went quite well, and two 9-month old granddaughters, dressed as sunflowers, Ava and Elise Wilson, graced the store with their presence as the readings were winding down.

My “ghostly” story submitted to the Chicago “Tribune’s” scary story contest was also printed, one of only 24 from over 800 entries (top 3%) that were published.

Many thanks to store owner Augie Aleksy at 7419 W. Madison St., who assisted with arrangements and put up the lovely store window display you see in the photos.

Chicago’s “Venetian Night” Celebration May Sink

By Connie Wilson

On October 25, 2009

In Local, News, Pop Culture, travel

Mayor Richard Daley’s 2010 budget hole is something like $520 million, according to a story in the Chicago Tribune. What to do, given the fact that Chicago already has the highest taxes in the country (10.25%) and experienced a –17% plummeting of hotel tax revenue?

The answer from the Mayor, expected to propose a $6.14 billion budget (up from $5.97 in 2009) is to raise the money from the unpopular parking meter 75-year lease, taking $370 million to shore up the leaking financial situation and (drum roll here, please) to sink the annual Venetian Night Parade that his father established when Mayor in 1959. The annual event only survived this year because it was bailed out, financially, at the last minute by Red Bull. It costs $100,000 for the fireworks and $200,000 for the policement, firemen, porta-potties and other things necessary to control a lakefront crowd of half-a-million people.

Some, like Scott Baumgartner of the Chicago Yachting Association, feel that the Mayor’s proposal is premature. Baumgartner released a statement: “We still feel strongly that we can do this event. It’s a tradition we would be very reluctant to let go of.” (That’s a Yachting Association guy talking, for you.)

Baumgartner actually had some support for the Alderman of my ward, 2nd Ward Alderman Robert Fioretti who said (in a “Tribune” article), “We shouldn’t cut off our nose to spite our face. (*Don’t blame me for the cliched expression. Fioretti said it) We need to keep attracting people to Chicago. Wasn’t that the real purpose of the Olympic bid? …It’s clearly a big draw.”

Yes, Venetian Night has been a big FREE draw, with over 500,000 people taking their kids and their lawn chairs to the lakefront to watch the decorated boats float by. This year, my husband and I set up on the hill across from the Shedd Aquarium early, and if the fates allow, you’ll be able to see some photos of what may well be the very last Venetian Night right here on WeeklyWilson.

The current Mayor Daley’s Special Events Director, Megan McDonald, in discussing how the popular regatta that attracted over half a million people this year was targeted for extinction said, “It’s more than just boats and nice fireworks. It’s being able to accommodate half-a-million people on the lakefront.” It should also be noted that the Jazz Festival is being cut from 3 days to 2, and many events are being moved to the Pritzker Pavilion from Grant Park. Also, some local festivals and arts spending will come under fire.

The 52^nd annual Venetian Night was held on July 27^th this year, and I was there.
R.I.P., Venetian Night.

Oct. 23 Booksigning for “Ghostly Tales of Route 66: Arkansas to Arizona” (Vol. II)

By Connie Wilson

On October 24, 2009

In Books, Local, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, travel

East Moline’s “Fright Night” festivities (4 to 7 p.m., October 23, Friday) were miserable, with a light drizzle and cold temperatures. Fortunately, I was allowed to share the tent that the pumpkin carver set up. He was carving pumpkins and selling chances on them.

I set up my table next to his and decorated with a “Ghostly Welcome” carving, a jar of candy, and a large spider web, complete with spider. The young ghosts and ghouls and goblins of East Moline trickled by our blue tent, which was in danger of blowing down at any minute. I felt sorry for the event’s organizers, who had to contend with lousy weather.

People who drifted by my table told me they had heard me “live” on WOC-AM and heard the book signing mentioned on WLLR radio. There was a headshot in the events area of the “Quad City Times” calendar, a small two-paragraph article in the Arts & Entertainment section of the Sunday “Dispatch,” and I had a nice tablemate, Dean Klinkenberg from St. Louis, who was selling his two travelogue books on the Quad Cities and LeClaire.

If you came by, thanks. If you bought a book, double thanks. If you WANT to buy a book, go to www.ghostlytalesofroute66.com and use the Pay Pal option or dial the 800 number of Quixote Press (1-800-571-2665). Price of the book is $9.95 (plus postage and handling).

Heath Ledger’s Last Film Appearance and “Against the Current” Reviewed at Chicago Film Festival on Tuesday, Oct. 20th

By Connie Wilson

On October 21, 2009

In Movies, Pop Culture, Reviews

At the 6:30 p.m. showing of “Against the Current,” a film by Peter Callahan, the director spoke to us before the showing and was enthusiastic about “my first visit to Chicago.” He described himself as doing all the tourist things—the architecture cruise, the search for the perfect deep-dish pizza—and said, “This film is many years in the making. It’s serious. It’s silly. It’s a little bit of everything. Prepare yourself for that.”

“Against the Current” is Callahan’s first film since his 2001 movie “Last Ball” was the only U.S. film in the New Director’s competition at the San Sebastian Film Festival in Spain. That film had nobody recognizable, star-wise, in it, but it did have a family whose last name was Corcoran, my maiden name, so I paid attention. A high school dropout, Callahan eventually earned a Master’s degree in journalism from Columbia University and tonight’s “Against the Current” is his second big release.

It was big in another way for the fledgling director who has gone 8 years between films. This time, there are some recognizable big name stars in the title roles. Joseph Fiennes (“Shakespeare in Love,” television’s “Flash Forward”) plays Paul Thompson, on whose intended suicide the film focuses, and Justin Kirk (Uncle Andy on “Weeds,” “Angels in America”) is his best friend, Jeff Kane.

Paul has suffered the death of his wife and child five years (prior to the start of the film), and he never recovered. It is goal to swim the length of the Hudson River, from Troy to the Verazanno Bridge, a distance of 150 miles in time for the 5^th anniversary of the death of his wife and unborn child. Then, he is going to kill himself—or so his two companions deduce.

His best friend Jeff (Justin Kirk) will drive a boat beside him. For reasons that are never made clear and make no sense, Jeff, a bartender, invites a schoolteacher friend and former bar employee named Suzanne (Michelle Trachtenberg) to accompany them on the journey. This makes no sense, since Jeff is married and of course his wife will object. It also seems totally implausible that the schoolteacher traveler is there for any other reason than to become the new love interest for the suicidal Paul and the “raison d’etre” that will help him to change his mind about living life. But am I jumping too far ahead. Because I will neither confirm or deny that this happens, primarily because I left the film so that I could make it to the “surprise” film, and all I can tell you is that, if I were a betting woman, I’d lay a heavy bet on that ending. Otherwise, the guy’s going to get a gun and shoot himself, and how bad an ending would THAT be? But, again, left 10 minutes before it all played out. Hustled down to get a seat for the free film that you could only get in to if you were wearing a Festival tee shirt, which meant that I had to buy a THIRD one, since I left both of mine at home, one meant to be a gift and one worn and in the dirty clothing hamper. So, far from being “free,” the film cost me another $20. “But oh, well. If it is going to be John Cusack in “Shutter Island,” I said to myself, “it will be well worth it.” It wasn’t, but the shirt is nice, in its defense (“So many subtitles; so little time”).

Mary Tyler Moore has a brief role as Suzanne’s dotty, judgmental mother. The trio spends the night at her house along the route with her boyfriend, her sister, and Suzanne’s nymphomaniac cousin, a college student.

The dialogue is very well written and Uncle Andy from “Weeds” is just the guy to deliver it in the perfect sardonic fashion. Joseph Fiennes is his usual intense self, but, given the subject matter, that is appropriate. (Is it just me, or does anyone else think this guy is wound too tightly and needs to lighten up? Does he ever smile spontaneously? I’m getting nervous just watching him as the lead on TV’s “Flash Forward.”)

One area that is superb is the cinematography and the location shots of the Hudson, which, given the fact that the Director grew up in Hastings-on-Hudson, New York, is probably not coincidental.

There are some odd conversational gambits, like whether there will be doughnuts in heaven or hell, but, to quote the character Suzanne, “Totally eccentric. I like it.” She was commenting on the two best friends since grade school, but it fits for the writing and the film, as well. The only thing I did not like is the very obvious ploy of having Suzanne “along for the ride.” I like to have things be a bit subtler, rather than trumpeting a plot development as soon as the actor has said his (or her) lines.

It’s pretty ironic to have the two companions attempt to talk Paul out of his obsession with killing himself by saying things to him like, “”They’ve (other sufferers) found a way to go on. It’d be selfish to kill yourself. It’s a hostile act.” Later in the journey downriver, Paul is put in the position of telling his best friend Jeff (who has strayed with the nympho cousin) to work to save his marriage. The exact lines from Fiennes are: “You can have a future, a child. You gotta’ hang in there and make it work.” Anyone else beside me see the large sign blinking IRONIC above the lead character’s head? (*Note: there were no APPLAUSE signs, like you get at late night talk shows, however.)

Does Paul kill himself after he swims the length of the Hudson? Does Uncle Andy capsize the boat? Do Paul and Suzanne fall in love and ride off into the sunset on a pontoon? I’ll never tell, primarily because I can’t. I left to make it down the hall to Theater Eleven in time for the “Surprise” film. More’s the pity. “Against the Current” had it all over “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.” I’d pay money to see the first, but not the last.

I enjoyed “Against the Current”, but it seems, to me, that Director Callahan might need to step up the pace if it really took him eight years between his first and second films.

Following “Against the Current,” I went to the “Surprise Film,” because I thought it was going to be “Shutter Island,” Martin Scorsese’s horror film with John Cusack. It wasn’t. The “special film” was Heath Ledger’s last onscreen appearance in the Terry Gilliam film “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.” Personally, I think we would all be better off remembering Ledger’s brilliant turn as the Joker in the last “Batman” movie.

The synopsis of the film describes it as “a fantastical morality tale, set in the present-day. It tells the story of a Dr. Parnassus and his extraordinary ‘imaginarium,’ a traveling show where members of the audience get an irresistible opportunity to choose between light and joy or darkness and gloom.” I can only repeat that, by misreading the clues in the Cinema/Chicago bulletin and thinking this was going to be Scorsese’s new film “Shutter Island”, I selected “darkness and gloom” for myself, even though the costumes and sets were darn colorful.
Don’t get me wrong: I love Terry Gilliam’s sets and art direction and costuming. However, the plot is as gossamer as a cloud and just as likely to change in inexplicable and not-that-great ways. When Ledger walks through the mirror at the imaginarium and into the imaginary land behind the mirror, he becomes Johnny Depp, Jude Law or Colin Farrell—offputting, unnecessary and not that interesting. Why not stick with Heath Ledger? Is the plan to lure unsuspecting theatergoers in with the news that these four heartthrobs are all “in” it…more or less? (Mostly less, in the case of Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell.)

The female lead, Valentina (Lily Cole), Dr. Parnassus’ (Christopher Plummer’s) daughter is gorgeous, but I didn’t believe for a second that she was just about to turn sixteen. If she is sixteen, then I’m twenty-nine. (The actress was actually born in 1988, which makes her 21. Is there a shortage of 16-year-old girls in Hollywood pining to play their correct age? Just wondering.)

The write-up suggested that there would be a series of “wild, comical and compelling characters.” As MeatLoaf used to say, “two out of three ain’t bad.” The compelling part escaped Gilliam in the film.

Terry Gilliam was brilliant as the designer/visual side of Monty Python, and I have enjoyed films of his such as 1985’s “Brazil.” I even enjoyed Tom Waits playing the devil, although he looked exactly like gay film director John Waters, pencil mustache and all, but I did not enjoy this film. It made me sorry I had left the Q&A with Director Callahan to make the beginning of this one.

Of the two, the one I chose that was NOT a “surprise” was much more interesting, watchable, and deserving of box office success.

David Sedaris in Davenport (IA) on Oct. 15: Naughty, Nice & Funny As Hell

By Connie Wilson

On October 17, 2009

In Books, Humor and Weird Wilson-isms, Local, Of Local (Quad Cities') Interest, Reviews

On Thursday, October 15, 2009, humorist/writer David Sedaris visited Davenport, Iowa’s Adler Theater to share his musings on jury trials, breast milk, condoms, and our “God-given right to mimeograph.” He lived up to Toronto Globe & Mail writer Bill Richardson’s assessment: “He’s smart, he’s caustic, he’s mordant, and, somehow, he’s well, nice.”

Sedaris has the unique vocal rendering(s) of Truman Capote before him, and, yes, both were openly gay. Hear Sedaris read just one time on NPR, where his career blossomed, and you won’t forget the tone. It’s one of the lovable eccentricities of the man that you learn to like, just as you learn to make your peace with his aversion to having his picture taken.

Sedaris has a way with words. When he describes his son, Todd, as being “the artistic one in the family” and goes on to describe him as having “a useless degree in dance history,” audience members smile with recognition. Everyone has someone in his or her family with a useless degree in something. We can all relate. Some of Sedaris’ sharing is painful, tinged with a deep pathos that gives his humor greater humanity and, with it, greater emotional weight. Whether it’s the needless cruelty that man inflicts on man or his mother’s drinking problem or his own dalliance with drugs back in the day, Sedaris has suffered and it shows in his writing. His humor is a shield and he wields it with bravado.

This night, Sedaris vamped his way through the acronym A.S.S.H.O.L.E. (don’t ask) and what it stands for in a boundary-pushing way that has garnered him 3 Grammy nominations for Best Spoken Word and Best Comedy Album(s). With 7 million books in print in 25 languages, the 2001 Thurber Prize for American Humor and Time magazine’s anointing him Humorist of the Year, it’s pretty clear, as the San Francisco Chronicle put it, “Sedaris belongs on any list of people writing in English at the moment who are revising our ideas about what’s funny.”

On Thursday night in Davenport, Iowa, the funny bits that amused me were about jury duty, possibly because of my own experiences on several coroners’ juries in Illinois. He describes his late mother, Sharon, saying to him, “How can you not want to sit in judgment of your fellow man?” and “Whoever thought a gun could be so tedious?” Reminiscing about a defendant in the trial he drew who had been knifed three times, the line that resonates is “If you’re the type that everybody stabs, maybe you need to make some fundamental changes.” As a member of a jury himself, Sedaris couldn’t quit fixating on the fact that the defendant was wearing “a cross the size you’d reach for if you wanted to crucify a hamster.” The image is vintage Sedaris.

We were treated to Sedaris’ ramblings about depictions of a soulful Jesus on the cross and how easy that is. He pines for an obese, repulsive, balding, Jesus with “fur-covered man titties”…a vision he ultimately referred to as “comb-over Jesus.”

Sedaris’ irreverent observations had the nearly full house amused and laughing throughout. He was kind enough to not only plug his own books which, this night, were his newest (When You Are Engulfed in Flames), but also his best ones of years past, such as 1997’s Naked, 2000’s Me Talk Pretty One Day, and 2004’s Dress Your Family in Corduroy, but also to plug Our Dumb World from The Onion and a book he is currently reading while on the road for 34 days, Everything Ravaged; Everything Burned. Sedaris says he actually enjoys meeting his fans. He doesn’t get a day off until after Day 33 on the road, tours which he typically does on a certain schedule that takes him away from his home in France, where he lives near Normandy with partner Hugh Hamrick. This day, he praises the Davenport YMCA for its kindness and hospitality in letting him swim laps in its pool, (which he must have done less than four hours before show time, because he had not yet checked in at 3:30 p.m. and the show was at 8 p.m.)

A bit of research into how Sedaris got his start (above and beyond his autobiographical tales in the books) reveals that, while living in Chicago, Ira Glass heard him reading aloud from his diaries at a Chicago club. (*Note to self: find out what Chicago club and go read excerpts from Both Sides Now!)

Sedaris was invited by Glass to read Santaland Diaries on the radio. The humorous essays described his experiences working as an elf at Macy’s at Christmas-time and debuted on NPR on December 23, 1992 on “The Morning Edition.” From that start, he has never looked back. Sedaris himself has said, “I owe everything to Ira…My life just changed completely, like someone waved a magic wand.”

Sedaris typically writes about his family members, one of whom is Amy Sedaris, formerly of Saturday Night Live. Amy and David have worked together writing plays as the Talent Family. This night, however, when an audience member practically cooed, “How cool is Amy, your sister,” David seemed less-than-thrilled with the over-the-top enthusiasm for his sister that the audience member was projecting. He acknowledged the comment without joining the love fest. He also said he was not writing about his brother, currently, because his brother loves being written about and owes him money. He told us that he is writing a book with animals, similar to fables (one was read aloud) and that he was collecting stories about rudeness from his audience.

I wrote Mr. Sedaris a fan letter (only the second of my life) after completing When You Are Engulfed in Flames and he wrote back from France. I don’t think he will consider it a violation of this private (and unexpected) correspondence if I share with you that, on a tour of the Hastings Bookstore chain in the Southwest he was placed in the Christian fiction section for his reading. Anyone who knows of Sedaris’ past brushes with drugs (now, he doesn’t even smoke regular cigarettes) or his open homosexuality has to smile at the thought of him delivering his material in the Christian fiction section of any bookstore, just as the audience this night laughed outright at his tale of wheeling an entire cart full of condoms (to give to his readers as gifts) through the aisles of a CostCo store accompanied by his 59-year-old brother-in-law.

After the evening’s performance, which was a great success, at least 100 of us waited in line patiently for 3 hours to shake David Sedaris’ hand…but only after we were offered hand de-sanitizer (probably not a bad idea in these times of H1N1 flu pandemics). [Let New Yorkers attempt to wait so patiently and so politely for so long!) The evening’s artist seemed in no hurry to brush off any of the hundred or so fans who waited it out until nearly 1:00 A.M.

I heard him ask the young couple ahead of me if they were married. They told him of their plans to marry next October. I turned to my line-mate and said, “Well, I had been married for nearly 42 years before I made my husband wait 3 hours outside in the lobby tonight. But that’s ancient history now.” They laughed. [Maybe some Ira Glass/David Sedaris person will recognize my wit and talent and launch me on a reading career of my own humorous essays (I’m very good at it, after years spent reading to 7^th graders who couldn’t read well for themselves; I always loved performing “The Night the Bed Fell on Father.”) Ah, if life were only so simple, she said to herself with a sigh. Maybe budding humorists like me should sing a chorus of “Put Me In, Coach. I’m Ready to Play. Today.” Or not. One never knows. I did almost perform a limbo along about Hour Two, in an attempt to shimmy under the metal restraining line to give my long-suffering husband the funny Onion book I had bought.

Earlier, the woman from Cedar Falls who gave up and left early tried to give it to him for me. She came back and told me there was no man with a red umbrella sitting in the lobby, which gave me pause. The cab situation in downtown Davenport is not like that in Chicago, and I was across the river from home. (Later, when placated with reading material given him after my daring limbo dance—which, at my age, could be described my as death-defying limbo dance—he lightened up a little, but I kept seeing one man’s angry face, a swarthy fellow, appearing at the door and mouthing the words to his wife in line, “Hurry up!” (How, exactly, was the poor woman supposed to do this, I wondered? Was she to trample us in a mad rush to the front, like Mad Cows set loose in a pasture? At least my husband merely left the building. And me. But he did return.)

When I finally made it to the front of the line to get the author’s autograph on 3 books and to tell him my “rude” story, I was not sure if Mr. Sedaris remembered my letter that prompted his personal response, or if he realized I was the woman who had left him the books at his hotel (difficult to tell whether that was a bad move or a good move, since the novel has, as its protagonist, a time-traveling rock star, for which I will be eternally remorseful, and a cover of a naked couple that generally catches your eye for all the wrong reasons.) He asked my name. Was I a complete mystery, then? There are multiple pictures of me in the books, so he must have already round-filed them. David (if I may use his first name) was friendly, but not effusively so. He offered me hand sanitizer as I went totally blank on my own name, while struggling to open the small bottle of gel. I’ve never used hand sanitizer. Just as I poured a huge glob of this stuff into my open palm (think KY Jelly, with which I am much more familiar), he extended his hand for me to shake. My timing, as usual, stinks.

I began my rude story of being sold out by a Pulitzer Prize-winning author who not only lied to me in print (an e-mail of August 25), but also lied to my face, ruining an expensive (over $3,000) trip to the Hawaii Writers’ Conference and destroying my faith in “getting it in writing,” since I had gotten “it” in writing and the man still flat-out lied to my face. For some reason (Nerves? Stress?) I was suddenly overcome with the emotion of retelling the sad episode that still has not resolved itself, financially or emotionally. As I finished my story, I almost choked up at telling it so soon after it had occurred. I felt like a complete dork as I said, “So I don’t like that author any more.” David Sedaris, in his distinctive voice, looking sympathetic, responded, “Well, then, I don’t like him any more, either.”

Now you see where the “nice” comment comes from. Here’s another with which the audience on Thursday night agreed, as articulated by the Chicago Tribune: “Sedaris’ droll assessment of the mundane and the eccentrics who inhabit the world’s crevices make him one of the greatest humorists writing today.”

Amen to that!