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.'"

Reveal-ation

And then it dawned on me:

You don't want a conversation.
You just want people to agree with you.

P's (2 in a Series)

Strange as it may seen, I often think of Pam when I have to pee.  More specifically, I think of Pam when I'm debating whether or not I should pee.  Do I have enough time before the call for "Places" to pee?  

Should I pee before starting my commute home?  

Do I really have to go?

...because of Pam's words of wisdom to me years ago:  "Pee when you can, not when you have to."

It's excellent advice that I've taken to heart, especially as I've gotten older and my bladder has gotten weaker.

If you have the chance to go, go.  You don't want to be stuck in a one-hour commute seriously debating if you can use your water bottle for purposes other than intended and wondering if other commuters will notice if you unbutton your pants?

Image courtesy of Fresh Step cat litter

Random Friends at Random Moments (1 of a Series)

A lot of you probably don't realize that I think of you at random times.  I figured I should write them down, for posterity.

I think of Katy Anne whenever I put on socks, especially if said socks are starting to get worn out and/or have holes in them.  Why?  Because when we were in high school, I complained one day of having a hole in the toe of my (white crew) sock*.  Katy said, "Just turn it around."

I stared at her, dumbfounded.

She again told me to turn it around.  I blinked and said, "But then it wouldn't fit right because the heel of the sock would be in the wrong place."

"Oh," she said.  "I don't have that problem; I wear tube socks."

"Cats in tube socks" yielded this image.  Google you never fail me.

*We went to a private, parochial school complete with uniforms; hence, all of our socks were also the same.

New Paper

What is it about a fresh notepad that sends my fingers flying?  It's so thick and perfect beneath my pen that my handwriting instantly becomes fancier.  A whorl here, a curl there, Why yes, I always loop my S's like that -- why do you ask?

I could write in calligraphy, the stylus scratching against the paper, as easily as I currently write in cursive with this pen and its rubber "comfort grip."  My words are both beautiful and have meaning, importance even!

If I press a little harder, these meaningful and rippling words will make their imprint on the pages beneath, so future generations who use this same 5x8 legal pad will know

cat litter
paper towels
dryer sheets
wrapping paper
wine
eye doctor appointment

Review: The Paper Magician

The Paper Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Well, like many books, this one started out well. My first thoughts within the first couple of chapters were that it was hitting the Daddy Long-Legs-meets-Jane-Eyre genre fairly hard. That's not necessarily a bad thing; it was just very obvious. Just as that bit was nearly played out, EXPLOSIONS!

And then the majority of the book was spent traveling through Magician Thane's literal and metaphorical heart(s). At the same time. Don't ask me how that's possible because I don't know. Once Ceony survived that, the ending was predictable as the above mentioned books would have it, if a little "twee" (and less adult) in its presentation.

My issues with this book can be listed as follows:
No subtlety: in addition to the obvious ploys listed above, there was little subtlety anywhere to be found. Our villainess Lira had blood-red lips, dark eyes, a large bosom, and if that wasn't enough, she actually threw blood from her dripping fingertips. Nothing delicate or subtle there.

Time period anachronisms: if you're going to insist that the book is set in late eighteenth-early twentietch century London, then you best be sure to not use contemporary words such as "make-up," "barrettes," "catering," and the like. How could a man slip his "ungloved hand" up Ceony's skirt if she was standing and he was seated? The skirt would have been down to her ankles, not to mention the layers of petticoats and undergarments. A lady, even an evil lady like Lira, never would have worn pants. A schoolgirl like Ceony would have been shocked to seem them. And they wouldn't have been called "pants" (see below).

Lack of Britishisms: I haven't looked up if Holmberg is British, but for a book set in England, it was nearly devoid of Englishness, including but not limited to: tea (serving and making of), saying "trousers" instead of "pants," etc.

It's entirely fine to have an English-like universe set it an unnamed time where one can mix and match their verbiage as they see fit. However, by giving concrete times and places, a writer is best to stick within those conventions. If you don't know the conventions, do the research. If you don't want to do the research, don't give concrete details to which your story is tied.

Pros:
To quote the book, "I like the dog."

While Book #2 promises to continue Ceony and Thane's story, I doubt I'll be reading it.

View all my reviews

Mental Energy Not Withstanding

Iron infusions (a.k.a. "superhero treatments") seem to be working.  Despite the side effects immediately following each treatment, I do actually feel better!  *knock on wood*

The downside of all of this newfound energy (y'know, what normal people feel like) is that my brain can't keep up.  Meaning:  mentally, the energy (or desire) isn't there.  I don't want to think, process, read, write, analyze.  Before, I was exhausted and in bed by 8 p.m., and my brain was done, no problem.  But now...

Is this why people watch TV?  So they can turn off their brains for a while?  But I can't do that.  When I watch TV or movies, I want to be involved, interested, invested, and engaged.  So far, the boob tube hasn't been allowing me to "tune out."

You know what does?

Wine.

And sometimes vodka.

But I shouldn't be getting liquored up just to douse my brain.  That doesn't seem right.  In fact, I know it's not right -- there's a whole episode of House about it!  (Except the guy in that episode doped up on cough syrup, of all things -- just like one of the first guys I ever date, but that's a different story.)

My Unit helpfully made a list this morning of things I can do to help us since last night I was wondering around our (rental) house saying, "I don't know what to do with myself!"  From here, my desk at work, I've accomplished 3 of the 5 things on the list -- in addition to doing all of my work for the day, editing/proofreading a holiday letter for a business, and sitting in a chair with an IV in my arm for two hours.

Ugh.

Time to find some new (time-consuming) hobbies as I don't have any shows on the books for the foreseeable future.