Saturday, June 24, 2017

Playing Possum

Last night, I came directly home after the show because I was hot and tired and in pain.  I was just going to take the dogs out and then go to bed, no excitement.....EXCEPT

...within seconds of being outside, Dogzilla has something in her mouth; 2 seconds after that, the circus dog wants in on the action.  I yell at her, which just makes her play with it more.  There's no squeaking or anything, so maybe it's not an animal?  (Or maybe it's already dead.)

I approach her slowly because if you run at her, she'll just run across our gianormous yard (with thing still in her mouth), thinking it's a game.  As soon as I'm within arm's length, I grab her collar, saying "Drop it."  But I can't see what "it" is (it's super dark outside at 10:30 p.m. in the county, y'all).  It's clear she's not going to leave it alone, so I prepare to drag/walk her inside by the collar.  Except she doesn't have her regular collar on (WTF?!?), something I failed to notice to before going outside.  So I lead her by the glow-in-dark LED collar we make them both wear at night (see above:  dark outside), but gingerly because

  1. said LED collar can slip right over her head and
  2. it's also a break-away collar
In fact, it DOES "break away," and so I grab her by the scruff with my cat-like reflexes so she can't run back to "i"t and then drag/walk 65+ pounds of dog back into the house, by her fur, with the circus dog running around my heels (his glow-in-the-dark collar still in tact).

I passive-aggressively wake up my sleeping Unit by saying loudly, "Rosie, where is your collar??"  A groggy, "Oh, it's in here" comes as a response.
"She found something in the yard," I announce.  "I don't know what it is," but I grab my phone and go outside to find out if it's still there or what.

My phone isn't giving enough light (and I deleted the flashlight app a long time ago), so I use the flash on the camera by snapping two quick pics revealing "it" to be....

a smallish possum.

Shit.

Back inside.  "It's a possum," I announce.  "Rosie killed a possum.  Or maybe it was already dead; I don't know."
Groggy mumbling in return.

And now I'm torn.  I don't want to go back outside, in the dark, and put the dead body in the trash can.  What if it's not really dead?  What if it's just, y'know, "playing possum"?  What if I try to grab it and it bites me??  And so I whine.  "Do I have to do it now?  I don't want to grab it in the dark!"

"But I don't know where it is!" is her rsponse, which translates into:  "I don't know what section of the yard to keep Dogzilla away from when I take her out at 4 a.m. because she will immediately try to 'play' with the dead animal again."
"And you're awake!" she adds (no translation necessary).

I sigh.  And find the one pink latex kitchen glove we have left (used the others in previous dead-body-tossings) and grab my phone and head back outside for a third time.  On my way out, I remember we do actually have a light for the back patio (duh!),  so I turn it on in an attempt to make things less icky/scary.

And then I grab a stick from the patio on my way to the possum.

Glove on one hand, stick and camera (using the flash on the "video" part now) in the other, I make my way back to the possum.  It's still there.  So I poke at it with a stick.

Nothing.

Poke.  Poke.

Still nothing.

Damn, it looks really gross.  Is it breathing?  I can't tell.  What if it bites me?!?!
Oh God.

And randomly, Damn, its tail is tail is a lot longer than I thought it would be.

Still using the phone for a light and keeping the stick for "self-defense," I very slowly pick up the possum's limp, furry body with my gloved hand.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.

Nothing happens, but the possum is bigger than my hand.  So it's not a baby.  Maybe a teenaged possum?  (In its defense, Leonard does have delicate, lady-like hands.)

I'm standing, possum in one (gloved) hand, phone and stick in the other (non-gloved) hand and I find myself at a (figurative) cross-road.  Do I put the possum in one of our trash bins, like we have previous dead animals?  Or do I dump it somewhere else?  What if it's not really dead and gets stuck in the trash bin?  What if it's not really dead but tossing it over the fence causes a concussion or internal hemorrhaging?  What if it IS dead, so who the fuck cares??  Trash bins are to the right; to the left is the edge of yard with a fence and a drainage ditch on the other side.  Fence/drainage ditch is closer -- decision made!

I do a weird quick walk/not run to the fence, furry body jiggling in hand and try to "gently" drop the possum over the fence.  And I wince.  "Sorry, possum!"
Then quickly go back the other direction to the trash bins to ditch my pink latex glove only to discover a giant spider web between trash can and house that I nearly walk into.  Jesus!

Glove gone, go back inside.  Except I still have to take Dogzilla back outside to pee because she didn't do that the first time around.  Fuck.  She, of course, inspects the area where the artist formerly known as a possum was hanging out, not believing me as I say repeatedly, "It's gone, Rosie."  We come back inside for the fourth and final time.

I wash my hands, put on pj's, and then -- convinced that I'm going to have nightmares about possums -- look up on my phone (whilst lying in bed) how to tell if possums are really dead or just "playing" dead.

90% sure said possum was just "playing" dead (thanks, Interwebs!).

Update from this morning:  possum is no longer in the ditch.  Either s/he "woke up" and left or some other, larger animal ate it.

Last but not least, this all reminds me of a bit of perfect casting:  William Shatner as the father possum in Over the Hedge.  He does a Shakespearean-esque death monologue except
he. does it. in. the Shat. ner. style.


Fucking brilliant.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Halls of Terror

My Unit and I were having an ongoing conversation regarding closing doors.  She had mentioned the other night that the closet door was continually ajar when she'd use the bathroom in the morning; meaning, that I had not quite closed the door the entire way (which is entirely possible).  I made a mental note of it, but apparently was still not completely closing the door because yesterday evening she mentioned it again.  I didn't even remember using the bathroom closet, let alone not quite closing the door.

My Unit brought up the fact that I don't quite close the bathroom door (completely) either (also true).  It's often ajar because otherwise our animals will bang on the outside of it, desperately trying to save me from the shower, the bathtub, or the need to poop.  Please keep in mind that all of these conversations were light-hearted on my Unit's end and really no big deal, but suddenly it all came rushing back:  the hallway in the house on Tompkins Drive.

Apparently I've always had an issue closing doors "properly," as I informed my Unit.  I demonstrated on our bathroom door, pulling it closed until it clicked.  "This way is apparently 'too loud,'" I explained.  Because my psychotic step-mother once punished me by making me close all the doors up and down that hallway by turning the handle, then gently pulling the doors closed (still making sure they [quietly] clicked) because I just pulled them closed.  And that was wrong.  And "too loud."

Once I had closed all of the doors "properly" I had to go open them all again in order to repeat the process until I "got it right."  That hallway had doors to:
  • the bathroom
  • the linen closet
  • the master bedroom
  • my bedroom
  • my brother's bedroom
  • my sister's bedroom
That's six doors.   Approximately 20 feet, one-way. Six doors closed and opened and closed and opened and closed ("the right way"), lather rinse repeat, I don't know how many times.  Three?  Ten?  40 feet "round-trip." And I was probably all of 8 or 9 at the time.

And then there was the time I ran down that same hallway to my bedroom at the end, desperately hoping to outrun said psychotic stepmonster who was coming to spank me.  I got to my room, slammed the door, and looked around, panicked, wishing I was big enough and strong enough to push furniture in front of the door.  She found me anyway and spanked me so hard I peed on myself, while crying.  Age 10?  11?

Or the time -- maybe it was the same time? -- she chased me up the same hallway, calling me "a little bitch."



So yeah, I often don't close doors all the way.

(Not our actual hallway)

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Logan (A Review)

I know, I know.  Leonard is sorely behind the times in that we only just watched Logan two weeks ago.  I think many of my thoughts can be summed up by this Unit conversation:
Me: "Professor Xavier said 'fuck'!"
My Unit: "So? He's a grown man."
Me: "Yeah, but usually he's the one who's all 'we like everybody, let's give you a family,'..."
Her: "That's how you know things are fucked up."
Me: "Exactly."
Her (referring to its R rating): "And then they had sex and smoked cigarettes."
Me: "Professor X and Wolverine did not have sex. In that scene. That I'm aware of. But if they do --"
Her: "You'll let me know."
Me: "Of course! I'll be like, 'What the fuck is this?? Triple-X-Men??!?'"
While I did enjoy the movie, I also felt a little bit lost in the first 10 minutes or so.  Looking at other reviews and commentary after I finished it, it turns out I was not alone. (X-Men:  Days of Future WTF has also seriously screwed up my entire timeline/understanding of this franchise.) It also turns out that was entirely intentional.    For instance, "the Westchester incident."  Even as some of the details were dribbled out to us, I didn't fully understand the weight of what they (and Professor X) were saying.  I immediately recognized "Westchester" as "home base" for Xavier's school, but it didn't dawn on me that the "incident" and Professor X "hurting people" truly meant wiping out mutants.

Reading that SlashFilm.com article filled some holes and brought even more gravity to an already heavy film.  I really feel like Logan is a contemporary Western, and not just because Johnny Cash is featured on the soundtrack.  (Sidenote:  the use of his cover of Nine Inch Nails' "Hurt" in the first trailer was fucking brilliant.)  Perhaps I've not watched enough Westerns (original or contemporary or remakes) but "Old Man Logan," world-weary and still struggling with "doing the right thing" or being left alone, a fiesty young girl character, zero love interest, and yes, of course, all of the desert landscape featured all said "Western" to me, in the same vein as True Grit and 3:10 to Yuma.

Laura's first fight scene (even her name screams "Western!") was insanely cool.  I did gasp"Jesus!" at the screen when her toe-claw first flipped out.  I was trying to explain to my Unit the intensity of the scene, but could only squeak out, "She's practically feral!"

In fact, let's talk about Laura for just a moment.  Well, let's talk about Dafne Keen Fernandez:  she's under 13 and can do more (and better) acting with zero words than some adult actors I know, even with whole monologues at their disposal.  And how awesome is it that she's:

  • a girl
  • Spanish
  • kicks major ass in this film
I don't have much else to say on this topic except representation matters.


"Old Man Logan" is kinda hot.  There.  I said it.  Just as we get used to Hugh Jackman as "Old Man Logan," though, the movie smacks us in the face.  Old Man Logan makes sense: he's older (well, closer to looking his own age, I guess); he's a little more mellow (for Wolverine) with age; he needs reading glasses; he's used to hard work put you don't wanna poke the bear (see:  Munson family scenes).  We don't even realize how accustomed we've grown to him until BAM!  Other Wolverine (X-24) shows up and reminds us what we're really used to seeing.  It's a great visual comparison to show us exactly just how far he's come/how much he's changed.  Plus, how often do you get watch Hugh Jackman fight himself?

I love Patrick Stewart's Xavier in this film because he's quite a bit different from previous Charles Xavier's, even the James McAvoy Xavier's.  Everything from saying "fuck" to the funny (but still sad and pathetic) "I need to pee" -- all of it.  He runs the emotional gamut in this film in ways that we're not used to Professor X (or really Patrick Stewart, for that matter).  Like the Unit conversation above said, it showcases how desperate things have gotten.

As a whole the movie had only one false note for me, and unfortunately, it was a large (loud?) one.  The ending fight scene, as Logan is impaled by the tree branch and Laura is crying over him, she cries "Daddy."  Not "Dad," not "Father," not even the (infinitely more plausible) "Logan," but "Daddy."  And then she repeats it, like, two more times.  Those three words felt entirely forced to me; they did not ring true at all.

Yes, we know Logan's DNA was used, so he is technically her father; chances are she knows that, too.  And even though they formed a fast and strange but slightly paternal relationship, it didn't make sense (to me) that she would cry out "Daddy" while crying over his dying/dead body.  If anything a "Nooo!" (though not Luke Skywalker style dramatic) would make more sense; best would probably just be the crying/ wailing/keening that doesn't require any words at all.  Maybe it's because Leonard is dead inside, but that part struck me as entirely forced; I can't seem to find another word to describe it.

Now that I've purchased, watched, and finished the movie comes the really tough question:  do I file it under "L" for "Logan" or under "X" alongside X-Men, X-Men 2, X3, X-Men:  First Class, and Wolverine?


Wednesday, May 24, 2017

The End of the Brush (3 in a Series)

For the occasions where I slather make-up on my face, the process goes a little something like this (NOT A TUTORIAL):
  • If I have not just washed my face (and stepped out of the shower), I will cleanse with a toner of some kind.  
  • Then moisturizer/primer
  • Maybe color correction
  • Then I'll apply foundation.
    • Okay one small tutorial:  as always, when applying things to my face, I remember the wisdom of a Mary Kay consultant many, many years ago:  we already have to fight against gravity as we age, so don't add to the problem by continually pulling your make-up, sponges, brushes, et cetera downward.  I try to go upwards, against the grain of gravity, and sometimes in new and different directions so I'm not continually pulling my skin in the same ways all the time.  Does it work?  Who knows, but I'm not taking any chances.
  • Then translucent powder
  • Eyes go in this order:
    • Brows (brush and color in)
    • Eye shadow
    • Eyeliner (liquid, black)
    • Eyelash curler (so they stop poking me right in the eyeballs) 
    • Mascara (also black)
And this is when I think of Aimee.  Every time.  I remember watching TV together -- no idea what (maybe an episode of Friends?) -- and a commercial came on for some mascara.  Among their many (unrealistic) promises, this brand promised to get "every lash," all the way to the "corner of your eye."  And Aimee yelled at the T.V.  "It's called using the end of the brush, dumbass!"
And we laughed.  Because she was right.

And I smugly apply my mascara, utilizing the end of the brush for my outer corner lashes, thinking of Aimee every single time.




**Blush, lipstick happen next, in case you were wondering; lipstick is always last, often after I'm dressed.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Text Message Interlude

Ridiculous Role Play Edition:

Me: "Coming home [from the gym]. Would like a red pepper, please."
My Unit: "Excuse me...this is not a restaurant. Today's special is chicken & dumplings $7.99 all you can eat."
Me: "If it's not a restaurant, why are you charging me for chicken & dumplings? :-) And can I get a side of red pepper with that?"
Her: "No substitutions or sides are offered."
Me: "Can I use a coupon?"
Her: "NO COUPONS!!!! ONLY CASH!!"
Me: "Hmmm,...I think I'd like to speak with a manager."
Her: "I own this joint!"
Me: "That's not what the guy who gave me this coupon said. The coupon also includes a free glass of wine."
Her: "WELL IT'S FAKE AND WE DON'T HAVE A LIQUOR LICENSE. NO MEN WORK HERE, JUST LESBIANS."
Me: "Why are you yelling at me? And tell that to Poe-Poe [one of our cats]."

End scene.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Review: Marine Biology

Marine BiologyMarine Biology by Gail Carriger
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Three stars is rather low for me for a Gail Carriger book. I think much of that stems from it being rather short (yes, I know it's a short story). Nonetheless, it felt a bit rushed, especially toward the end: one sort-of dinner date, and now (Read on Goodreads to view spoiler) but it still seemed a little too "wrapped up neatly with a bow" for my taste.

On the other hand, some of the exposition just left me with more questions: like why are two merpeople investigating financial crimes? Is this a twentieth-century, American version of B.U.R. (and maybe I missed that detail?)?

Now that I think about it, "Two merpeople investigating financial crimes" actually sounds like a decent T.V. series -- BRB!

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Things I Miss (Anaphylaxis Edition)

I started to develop food allergies in my mid-twenties.  Until that point, the only things that had been trying to kill me were the usual suspects:  dust, pollen, ragweed, mold, and hay.

And the one by one, my body decided different nuts and related foods were unacceptable in various degrees:  first coughing, then wheezing, then lips swelling and face getting red and blotchy as I tried to scratch my own throat out.  And lately I've been missing some of those foods.

  • Peanut butter toast -- especially when the toast was hot enough that the peanut butter would get a little melty in the middle
  • Celery sticks with peanut butter -- crunchy deliciousness that made you feel that you were "eating healthily" (ha!).  Oh, but don't pull any of that "Ants on a Log" crap.  Keep your disgusting raisins to yourself!
  • Pistachio pudding!  The taste, the color, the ingredient in so many "salads" we white people make.
  • Pistachio ice cream -- although I did feel a little jaded when some brands lacked the green food coloring
  • Peanut butter and plain (lightly salted) rice cakes:  I used to eat these all the time in grad school; I could "graze" and read/study at the same time
Organic peanut butter was actually the penultimate food that got scratched off my list.  But I found I could still eat some candies and things with "peanut butter" in them because, let's face it -- that's not real peanut butter.

Or is it?  My immune system decided it was "close enough."
  • Mini Reese's peanut butter cups -- how you taunt me during the holidays.
  • Reese's Pieces -- we had such fun during movies.  (Twizzlers say hi, BTW.)
  • Girl Scouts Tagalong cookies -- seriously?!?  This cruel move of Fate just started last year when I discovered I could no longer eat one cookie without the coughing/hacking starting.  This year I didn't even order any boxes so I wouldn't be tempted to try again.
    • Don't worry.  I made up for it by ordering ALL OF THE THIN MINTS
Now not everyone who is allergic to peanuts is allergic to tree nuts, and vice-versa (peanuts are technically a legume).  And not everyone who is allergic to those things is allergic to coconut.  Aren't I the lucky statistical anomaly?
  • Valentine's Day is coming up -- filled with bite-sized coconut truffles to mock me.
    • I also particularly liked the kind where the coconut was mixed in with the chocolate (rather than a ball of pure coconut dipped in chocolate)
  • my mom's Ranger cookies (that I also used to make).  They were yummy and I liked to tell myself they counted as a breakfast food because main ingredients included:  oatmeal, Rice Krispies, ...and coconut.
  • Coconut lip balm and other skin products -- how much is too much?  I don't necessarily miss these, but it does suck discover the allergy because your lips swell up on the way to work.
Now I'm both sad and hungry. You dear people:  don't take your snacks for granted!  They could be taken away from you, leaving you with nothing but memories that quickly fade from your taste buds.  Please go eat some for me.


Monday, January 23, 2017

La La Land (Film Review)

I saw La La Land just before New Year's with a friend who lives and works in L.A., and she was able to give me some insight into several properties.

Overall, I enjoyed the movie.  It was fun, visually appealing, and a delightful homage to the golden age of movie musicals.  That being said, there's a fair amount constructive criticism to be typed out.  Let's start with what we liked.

Pros:
  • Diverse casting:  No, not in the leads; don't be silly.  Hollywood can't seem to handle that.  But in their "chorus," most notably in the opening number taking place during L.A. rush hour traffic, I was pleased to see people of all kinds of colors, ages, shapes, and sizes -- not just "typical musical theatre types" (y'know, lithe, wholesome-looking dancers in their 20s).  So that was nice.
  • So many colors!  The (mostly) primary colors of this film just pop all over the place making it visually appealing and sometimes downright stunning.  The color palette is part of what makes it such an homage to the movie musicals of yesterday (primary Singin' in the Rain, which I'll be referring to a lot during this review).  I was also pleased to see that Emma's four friends were all wearing different (though similarly styled) solid-color dresses -- a theatre standby to make it easy to find the characters on stage.  If we had seen them in any other numbers, I would have fully expected them to stay in their same color tones.  But look at this image and tell me you don't see the same?
"A Face in the Crowd," La La Land (2016)

From "Gotta Dance" Montage, Singin' in the Rain (1952)

  • The music -- wait, no, the jazz.  The score and orchestrations were lovely.  My date (who is much more versed in such things than I am) pointed out to me that the director of this film, Damien Chazzelle, is a jazz musician himself; the film Whiplash (2013) is his story.  So naturally he's going to pay special attention to the jazz; however, I think that may also be his blindspot, but we'll save that for the cons in a moment.
  • I enjoyed the dialogue and chemistry between Gosling and Stone:  "Can I borrow your outfit?  I have an audition later this week for a serious firefighter."
  • I particularly enjoyed all of the contemporary "interruptions."  Just when we'd find ourselves falling into "musical theatre territory," Chazzelle gives a delicious (modern) interruption:  car horns honking, a cell phone ringing, movie film breaking, et cetera.  Those touches keep the movie from becoming too saccharine.
  • The homages to older films, specifically movie musicals.  Here is another list/article by Aisha Harris at Slate of all of the tributes to those films of yore; I haven't read it yet because I didn't want it coloring my own initial thoughts, but I recommend it (and will be reading it shortly).  For La La Land, it starts with the "expansion" of the screen to the old "Cinemascope" logo (which only some people in the audience will get) and goes from there, including a swing around a lamp post a la Singin' in the Rain to the drive up to the Planetarium a la Rebel Without a Cause.
    • Sidenote:  I have seen some people claim the "dancing in the air" sequence was ridiculous/unbelievable/stupid, etc.  First off, if you are looking for reality in a musical -- any musical -- I'm afraid I have bad news for you.  Secondly, that dance sequence is an homage to many, many predecessors, including (but not limited to):
      • The "dream ballet" in Rogers & Hammerstein's Oklahoma! (or almost any R&H musical)
      • Part of the "Gotta Dance" montage in Singin' in the Rain -- which has a dream sequence within a montage within a "what if" scenario
      • Gene Kelly's dance with Jerry the Mouse in Anchors Aweigh (dancing with an animated mouse -- again, not looking for reality here).
      • "A Jolly Holiday" from Mary Poppins wherein they jump INTO a sidewalk chalk painting and dance with animated people...and penguins.
      • It even happens in non-musicals:  the dream/dance sequence in Susan Slept Here, starring Debbie Reynolds and Dick Powell (1954).
Those were all things I enjoyed.  Now the things I did not:
  • The songs.  While the jazz and the score were both good, not one of those songs was memorable.  Not one of them made me want to run out and buy the soundtrack or (better still) buy the sheet music to learn them.  Not. One.
  • The singing.  This is caused in part in how it's recorded (and when it's so very obvious the people on screen are not singing there) and partly the lack of the vocal training of the (non-)singers themselves, but everything sounded the same:  the same volume, the tone, the same wimpy, breathy vocalizations that show lack of confidence and lack of breath support.  Songs shouldn't all sound the same, nor should you sing them all the same.  We should hear things like piano, forte, pianissimo, etc.  Unfortunately, all of these songs were done in that "Gosh, I hope I'm not wrong, so I'm going to sing/speak quietly" piano mode.  Listen to Sarah Michelle Gellar on the Buffy:  The Vampire Slayer musical episode, and you'll hear exactly what I'm talking about.  And this is why I think songs versus orchestrations may be Damien Chazzell's downfall; he may be so focused on the latter that he didn't realize how bland and/or poorly recorded the former were.
    • Part of the reason for this style of "singing" is that he didn't hire actual singers.  And while Ryan Gosling spent 3 months studying jazz piano (which is awesome!), at least as much time should have been spent on voice lessons.  Same with Emma Stone and, well, nearly everyone in the cast.
  • The dancing.  Again, it wasn't bad; much of it was very cute.  But it wasn't great.  And frankly, it wasn't perfect.  I have much higher standards for films than I do for live theatre because in a film you can take as many takes as you want to get it right.  Theatre's a lot harder because you rehearse, but for each audience, you only have that one moment to be right (which is part of the beauty of live theatre, but I digress).
    • Again, they didn't hire dancers (not for the leads).  So they could spend months training these talented actors, or they could, y'know, hire actual dancer/singer/actors!!!  It's a novel concept, I know, but I know those triple threats are out there.  In fact, I know some of them.
      Exhibit A:  look at their hands -- completely different!  INEXCUSABLE!!!
  • Some of the transitions felt a little long; overall, the movie itself felt long.  I was surprised when I got out of the theater to see it was under 2 hours.  That's not necessarily a good marker of a film:  that it feels longer than it is.
Overall, I did enjoy it because I enjoyed the movies it made me think of (and made me want to go watch).  I liked the chemistry and banter between the leads.  Now I would just like them to do it better.

P.S.  I couldn't find a way to work it into this (very late) review, but go watch the 1955 movie version of Guys & Dolls (with Marlon Brando and Frank Sinatra).  It's similar in color and style to La La Land as well.

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Documentation

For posterity.  In case I forget.  In case we're told not to...

"The fight is over reality itself. If people treat every fact as partisan, facts cease to be facts. In the confusion, the populist attacks opposition media for causing the confusion" (Melik Kaylan, Forbes, January 10, 2017).

January 21, 2017, Day #2 of Trump :
"'This was the largest audience to ever witness an inauguration, period,' Spicer said, contradicting all available data."

"Spicer said, without any evidence, that some photos were "intentionally framed" to downplay Trump's crowd."
From "White House press secretary attacks media for accurately reporting inauguration crowds" by Brian Stetler, CNN Money, January 21, 2017

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Celluloid to Stage (A Review)

I have long said that most movies don't translate well to the stage.  I've been saying it pretty much ever since I saw/was in the stage version of Victor/Victoria where I discovered right up close that often the things that make the movie the piece of art that it is simply don't work on stage.  Sometimes it's a problem with screenplay to script to songs, but I strongly feel that it's trying to squeeze information from one medium to another.  And I could list several stage musicals that started as movies (musical and non) that are just awful, but I won't.  This post is about the show I saw last night, Finding Neverland.

I knew going in that this stage musical would be a hard sell for me because I absolutely love the film, and I love Johnny Depp in the film.  So I tried very hard to appreciate this stage musical for itself, as its own piece of art, and not judge it solely on "version of the movie."

TL;DR version:  is it a "bad" musical?  No, it is not.  Is it a "great" musical or something I'd want to see staged again?  No, it is not.


Musically, my date for the evening hit the nail on the head:  most of the songs sounded the same.  Some sounded so similar that I couldn't tell if it was a reprise of an earlier song or a new song entirely.  And it wasn't like there was a recurring musical theme woven in and out pieces as happens in some other musicals (Hamilton, Evita to name a couple); they just sounded alike.

She and I also agreed that there were some really compelling visuals happening during the show -- interesting choreography and just a lot of really awesome ensemble work so that no matter where you looked, something fascinating was going on, but it wasn't so predictable that we "knew" hey, people are going to pop out again!  The show made heavy use of projections (some animated/moving) during the performance.  Projections can be an interesting and also compelling visual aid -- the key word being "aid."  They should add to the performance but never take center stage.  At one point, during "Circus of Your Mind," I think, the projections were too forceful, too attention-grabbing, a bit like hitting the audience over the head with the merry-go-round theme of the music and lyrics rather than letting us figure it out (which wasn't hard to do given the above mentioned music and lyrics).

More importantly, all of the characters were....flattened...from their original selves in the film.  I wish I could say they had been distilled instead.  Distillation would mean the purest version of their selves; like cologne instead of eau de cologne, so strong that it can only come in small doses.  Flattened means they were simply made one-dimensional, reduced to the lowest common denominator.  Examples:

  • I could tell from her first appearance during the opening number that Barrie's wife, Mary, was a flattened, one-dimensional version of herself.  She's been made into a grasping, materialistic caricature of a villain rather than an early twentieth-century woman struggling to do what society has instructed her to do:  to be a good and proper wife with all of the good and proper trappings of that position.
    • She is accompanied by 3 foppish caricatures of servants; more on them later.
  • Barrie's producer, Charles Frohman, has also been turned into a blustering, yelling "villain" type, shouting at Barrie about budgets and costs and schedules.  Dustin Hoffman's Frohman had the same worries, but he never lost faith in Barrie (and he certainly didn't yell).  While they did finally allow Frohman to say one of my favorite lines in the film1, it was far too late for any type of character redemption.
  • Speaking of Frohman,....while having him double as Captain Hook (a bit that looks like it may have been taken from the movie's first concept) seems like an ingenious bit of casting, Captain Hook is now Barrie's alter-ego?!?  Wow.  I find that,...let's say "problematic" for a couple of reasons:
    • In the film (yes, I know I'm doing it again), the inspiration for Captain Hook comes not from Frohman but from Mrs. Emma du Marier (the Sylvia Llewelyn Davies' mother).  The bit of tech in the stage show that shows the inspiration coming from Frohman is fun visual pun -- don't get me wrong -- but making this change takes away from Mrs. du Marier's agency as a female character.
    • It also changes the trajectory/arc of Barrie's character.  In a lot of ways.  He is no longer given inspiration for a children's "villain," but instead is battling his own id/ego/super-ego for recognition as, what?  A man (Hook is certainly masculine in this manifestation, also reinforced by his appearance during the "romantic" scene/love song between Barrie and Sylvia)?  A free agent (now that we've taken it away from Mrs. du Marier)?  In the stage show itself, this number is the Act I finale, and it is something to be seen, indeed.  I'm just don't agree with the character and story line changes it necessitates.
  • Barrie himself is a lesser version than he is in the film.  Again, while they did include one of my favorite lines/scenes2, its emotional impact was completely lost.  And speaking of his relationship with Sylvia Davies (mentioned above), they made the mistake of making them an overt romance.  One of the things the film does (and however much of it is true, I couldn't say) is that the two of them are never explicitly romantic; that's part of what makes their situation so complicated -- it has no name or definition.
Things we liked:  besides the movement/choreography, there was some gasping during the end sequence.  My date gave a small gasp when the handful of glitter was thrown in the air, and I may  have gobbed (that's a gasp plus a small sob) when they added Mrs. Davies' wrap to the swirling air.
....and then, because my brain is crazy, I immediately start thinking How long do they have to wait?  How long is it supposed to swirl?  Is it supposed to be carried away and disappear entirely?  How long do they wait if that doesn't happen?

Conclusion:  I think the overarching issue with this movie to stage translation is that they attempted to turn Finding Neverland into a musical comedy.  One need to look no further than the caricarature of the servants -- fairly unnecessary characters to be added, let alone to be stealing focus by the continual scenery-chewing.  Even Mrs. Barrie's later intended (Mr. Cannan) is turned into a cheap joke of a character.  Finding Neverland (the film) is not a comedy; it's a drama with some funny (and touching, endearing) moments, and that's what got lost in translation.


1Frohman: "You know what happened, James, they changed it."
Barrie: "They changed what?"
Frohman: "The critics, they made it important... hm, what's it called? What's it called?"
Barrie: "Play."
Charles Frohman: "Play."

2 "What a horrible, candle-snuffing word -- 'just.'"