The Blog Is [Not] the Territory

16 June 2007

War and Peace, the (Russian) Movie

A couple of weeks ago, when my friend Ellen was visiting, we went to see the Russian War and Peace. About seven hours in four installments, which we took in on three different days. War and Peace (novel) fans out there really shouldn't miss the opportunity to see this movie. It is pretty perfect, with casting that jibes exactly with your imaginings of what these characters should look/be like.

Of course it doesn't include every Tolstoyan subplot, but for the plotlines it includes, the movie is utterly faithful. Director and star Sergei Bondarchuk really achieved something phenomenal.

Although the last 20 minutes or so of Part 4 is pretty lousy. Still, out of 400-odd minutes, that's not bad.

500 Clown Macbeth

I was nearly 40 before I realized how much I love clowns. Not Bozos--clowns via greasepaint and padded costumes and innocuous balloons--but clowns who are verbally as well as visually absurd. Clowns who try to solve problems with obvious solutions that they just can't see.

This show consists of a trio of earnest and bumbling clowns tasked with putting on a production of Macbeth. Suffice it to say that things don't go as planned. But in spite of an array of distractions and physical catastrophes, the show--by its close--manages to evoke the main themes of Shakespeare's play: ambition, goaded into murder, and finally remorse.

Not bad for a bunch of clowns.

This show is visiting the Steppenwolf stage through the rest of June and most of July. Click here for the Steppenwolf calendar.

15 June 2007

Midnight's Children

Well, it took me about a month to finish this book that I've been meaning to read for more than 20 years. Was it worth it?

I guess. But after all that effort, I wasn't so thrilled. I've seen Rushdie talk a few times and this book doesn't have his charm, though it's plenty ambitious. Maybe too ambitious. It rather wears its ambition on its sleeve, so that you can't forget you're reading An Ambitious Novel.

Finally, after all the buildup, I found it anticlimactic. But there were plenty of good moments, and I certainly increased my knowledge of Indian history (not hard, since I know so little about it).

But I think I liked Fury better.

Monster

What a disturbing movie. Really good, but hard to go to sleep afterwards, and woke up thinking about it this morning. I know it's going to become one of those movies I wish I could forget. The documentary is next on our Netflix list...

11 June 2007

Bunny Haven

Victor and I rode our bikes downtown to the Printer's Row book festival on Saturday; it was my first time there and I really got a kick out of being part of a big crowd of people interested in books.

We rode back through Grant Park and visited Millennium Park, too (where you're not allowed to ride); when you leave Millennium Park via the BP bridge you land on this plaza that is just FULL of bunnies! Just sitting around on the lawns, placidly eating grass. We saw a baby bunny, too.

Perfect way to end the day.

Ocean's Thirteen

Saw this last night, in spite of reading a very bad review somewhere. In fact, the movie met our expectations exactly: very sharp, shallow, and enjoyable con artist movie. Good jokes, hard to keep the caper straight, a lot of attractive actors having fun.

Just what you want in a summer movie.

Chicago Botanic Garden

Victor took a few hours off on Friday and we drove a ZipCar up to the Chicago Botanic Garden for the first time. We liked it so much, we joined, but we sure wish it was more convenient to the city. It's a beautiful, tranquil place. Easy to let go of daily worries there.

Carbide and Carbon Adventure

We were showing our friend Ellen around Chicago last weekend and were passing the beautiful Carbide and Carbon building on North Michigan Avenue. (The building is now the Hard Rock Hotel.) We went inside to look at the beautiful elevator lobby, and then Victor suggested we go upstairs.

The inside of the elevator was not as beautiful as the outside, but it was still worth going to the top floor. To our surprise, floor 37 (if I remember the number correctly) was completely gutted and littered with construction debris. You'd have thought they'd have prevented the elevator from stopping there.

Aside from a mess, though, what the top floor had was windows: we stepped over the junk and peered out at Chicago's gorgeous downtown. Even the Thompson Center looked good--I wonder if the original design passed muster because an architect's maquette would have really emphasized this top view--you don't really look at a maquette at ground level.

Anyway, don't know how long it will last (or how long it will be before the Hard Rock management figures out they may have a safety issue), but for now a great, free place for fabulous downtown views.

27 February 2007

Amazing Grace

We don't always see the best movies, but lately I've discovered (or rediscovered) a taste for "message" movies.

I want to be inspired.

Before the new year, we saw The Departed and acknowledged that it was excellent, though kind of a bummer. After the new year, for Victor's birthday, we saw three in a row: Blood Diamond, The Pursuit of Happyness, and The Good Shepherd.

Blood Diamond was our favorite; The Pursuit of Happyness was fine, and The Good Shepherd made us feel crappy, in spite of being absorbed throughout.

Blood Diamond was a movie with a hero, and I guess that's what I've been craving lately--I'm tired of stories that suggest there's nothing to be done.

So Amazing Grace fits the bill. Definitely a movie with a hero: William Wilberforce, the British legislator who pushed and pushed and pushed for the abolition of the slave trade. It starts off a bit slow, but does a good job of shedding light on a part of history most Americans know nothing about (we're notoriously undereducated about the history of other countries). Even if it's not a perfect work of art, it succeeds in making you want to learn more about the subject, which is a pretty noble achievement.

So I'm adding Adam Hochshild's Bury the Chains to my reading list; I'll get to it one of these days...

25 January 2007

Found: Hooded Merganser with Identity Disorder

On a walk a couple of weeks ago, I was delighted to see that the Common Goldeneyes have returned to Belmont Harbor. We first noticed them two falls ago, and it still astonishes us that some creatures find winter in Chicago to be perfectly comfortable. This year, though, we were especially struck by the presence of a solitary Hooded Merganser keeping the others company. Certainly, the Hooded Merganser has much in common with Common Goldeneyes--black-and-white color scheme, fishy diet, diving talents--but why isn't it hanging out with its own kind? Turns out, it was probably born in a Common Goldeneye nest. Is it such a stretch to imagine it THINKS it's a Common Goldeneye?

24 January 2007

Niagara Falls All Over Again

It had been a while since I'd read a good story. Instead I'd been reading nature stuff, political stuff, magazines, newspapers, but hardly any fiction.

Didn't want anything too challenging, though. Not to put too fine a point on it, I wanted to be carried away.

Elizabeth McCracken's Niagara Falls All Over Again does just that. This is the story of a fictional vaudeville comedy duo--one fat, one thin--that transitions to legitimate theater, film, radio, and television. The tale is told in the wistful voice of the thin one, born Jewish in small-town Iowa, who ran away to vaudeville as a teen to escape a future as a shopkeeper.

What makes a good read? Engaging, fast-moving writing, compelling plot, characters you fall in love with... I stayed up past midnight to finish this one, and the next day my groggy brain was full of vivid images--as if I'd been up late watching a movie, not reading a book.

You don't need to be an Abbott and Costello fan to like this, either.

22 January 2007

4-ish

I picked up tickets for this event via Goldstar (indispensable source of cheap tickets) without realizing that it was being presented by the Chicago Children's Theater. All I thought was: hip-hop, dance, fun!

I guess that's also what kids 6 and over think. But regardless of the audience, which largely skewed I-won't-say-how-many years younger than me, it was a terrific performance--just over an hour--of exhilarating dance, acrobatics, a bit of Three-Stooges-style silliness, very impressive human beatbox feats; most breathtaking--for me--were two champion rollerbladers, who sailed down one ramp and up the other, and into the air, as if they were birds rather than boys.

The show's only up for one more weekend, at the Harris Theater at Millennium Park. Whether or not you have children to entertain, this is worth seeing.

Chicago Children's Theater
773/227.0180

21 January 2007

The Sparrow

I'd heard about this play, put on by the acclaimed House Theatre, a while ago, but the synopses I'd seen turned me off. A play about a telekinetic high school girl? Seemed kind of over the top, and I was skeptical about how telekinesis was going to be managed in a storefront theater.

I will no longer be skeptical about anything the House Theatre chooses to do. With a talented cast, highly creative staging, a compelling script, good music, effects, and really moving performances, this group makes magic on its little stage at the Viaduct. Perhaps the story doesn't quite hold together 10 minutes after you leave the theater, but through the performance, you're riveted.

It's only around for a few more weeks, so go see it.

Viaduct Theater
3111 N. Western Ave
773/251.2195

29 October 2006

ShawChicago

Going to see a play can be a hit or miss affair, but ShawChicago has always offered a consistently splendid theater experience. In spite of the fact that the performances we've seen have been staged readings rather than fully realized productions, the performers' talent and skill are so strong that we're totally absorbed.

Of course, the material--plays by George Bernard Shaw--makes a contribution as well.

Still, material isn't all. Yesterday we went to a production of Moliere's The Miser--fully staged, but so poorly executed that we left after the first act. Experiences like that always make me doubt my affection for theater.

This afternoon that affection was renewed. A marvelous performance of You Never Can Tell. These actors are just phenomenal.

28 October 2006

My Life without Me

It seems to be weeping season. This was quite a wonderful movie, but I cried and cried.

25 October 2006

Penelope Lively's The Photograph

I still remember how devastating Moon Tiger was, and I must have read it 20 years ago. Granted, I don't remember much else, except that it was devastating.

This novel was also devastating, it its way; as I read the last sections I was almost continuously in tears. Victor says, No more sad books for a while.

He suggests rereading The Hobbit.

I'm thinking more along the lines of Middlesex. But first, some magazine reading to catch up on...

20 October 2006

Nicole Krauss' The History of Love

It's possible I read a more moving novel this year; but if I did, I can't remember it. This is a book I never wanted to put down, and when I was finished I went right back to the beginning and started again.

Weeping.

16 October 2006

Operation Shylock

It's hard to know how to read this novel, which bills itself as "A Confession," purports to be true in its explanatory preface, and features characters named after Philip Roth, Claire Bloom, Aharon Applefeld, and other real people. You know it's fiction, so you want to avoid questions of what really happened, but the autobiographical manner and the recurrent references to real people and events make this difficult.

So when a doppelganger is introduced, you're feeling surprisingly credulous, and you're drawn into an outlandish story step by plausible step. Author Philip Roth has a double, also named Philip Roth (and representing himself to be the author), who is in Israel launching a movement to send its Jews back to Europe. In the process, Roth 2 has made an odd set of alliances—with Lech Walesa, the JDL, and the PLO. Roth 1, in Israel to interview the novelist Aharon Applefeld for the Times, confronts Roth 2, who refuses to desist. Outraged and bemused by turns, Roth 1 allows himself to be mistaken for Roth 2, and even actively impersonates Roth 2.

Adventures ensue.

The story ends with a big chunk missing, it is explained, for security reasons. On the endleaf, a standard disclaimer reminds you that the book is, after all, fiction.

An interesting, well-written novel, but rather unwieldy and exhausting. It's been a while since I've read any metafiction, so I guess I'm out of practice.

Oryx and Crake

When a "serious" writer engages in science fiction, I'm not sure how to take it. Is science fiction being legitimized, or is the writer slumming?

In Margaret Atwood's case, the genre offers an opportunity to follow current trends to their logical (and deeply unpleasant) conclusions. With Oryx and Crake, she presents us with a fairly standard post-apocalyptic last-man-on-earth story: we get glimpses of the world-that-was (very similar to ours) in flashback and these hints highlight the way that world sowed the seeds of its own destruction.

All well and good; there is nothing in the story that is not compelling.

Unfortunately, there is nothing in the story that is very complicated, either. Which seems a strange thing to say about this author, who, in books like Cat's Eye and The Blind Assassin, has shown herself capable of conveying enormous complications. It's as if the effort of creating a different and believable world has been so great that nothing's left for creating complex characters. Instead, the bad guys are bad, the nuts guys are nuts, the good guys might be confused, but they're good.

The result is an exceptional and thought-provoking science fiction story, not a great novel. The characters don't live, though their dilemmas do.

27 July 2006

Why Cities Should Fight to Keep Their Middle-Class Residents

I'm irate. I was just reading an article from last Sunday's Times called "Cities Shed Middle Class and Are Richer and Poorer for It," which conveys the not-very-new news that our major cities are becoming enclaves of the very rich and very poor, with the folks in the middle squeezed out and establishing homes in the suburbs or elsewhere in the country. This is a reality I've recognized (and bemoaned) about New York and other big cities for years—what made me irate are the remarks of some of the quoted experts.

Here's W. Michael Cox, chief economist for the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas, on the problem of laborers being unable to afford city digs on their smaller salaries: there is no problem—instead of letting them eat cake, let them work two jobs! Firefighters, for example, could benefit from "portfolio diversification in [their] income." Will someone fire this man, please? And then let him get two jobs so next time he's fired he can benefit from the diverseness of his night shift at the 7-11.

Right. Then there's a Harvard economist named Edward Glaeser, whose study of income inequality in cities in the 1960s and 1970s concluded that there's no reason to think they negatively affect housing price growth, income, or population.

Maybe I have a problem with economists, more than anything else. They talk as if all that mattered were growth. Sometimes you need to look past immediate benefits (rich folk move in, drive up prices, buy more products, pay more taxes), and think about the losses: what happens to society when people don't mix anymore—rich live with rich, poor with poor.

The miracle of cities, the energy of cities, the thrill of cities, come from their diversity, not from shiny commercial constructions that cater primarily to the very rich (e.g., New York's Trump Tower and Chicago's 900 N. Michigan). Such luxury super-malls can be (and are) constructed anywhere—in Sun Valley, Idaho, or Columbus, Ohio, and only serve to flatteringly reflect the rich back to themselves.

Cities are special for their ability to contain juxtapositions of glitter and grime, glamour and grit. The glue that holds those contraries together is the people at the middle of the economic spectrum, those who daily traverse the worlds of rich and poor, riding public transit to jobs that pay decently, buying groceries in cheaper neighborhoods, frequenting public parks and beaches, splurging at an expensive department store at Christmas, going out to a fancy restaurant once or twice a year for a special occasion. Without these folks, we eliminate any sort of connection between the extremes, because public amenities tend to deteriorate without their support, enforcing social as well as economic segregation, depriving the poor of hope for a better life, and limiting the rich to a narrow (private) set of activities, interactions, and destinations.

Meanwhile, the middle-class, living in the boonies among the enclaves of the super-duper-rich, become the most isolated group of all, commuting in private vehicles on suburban freeways, never interacting with anyone outside the circles of family, colleague, neighbor, or church. Safety is a value prized above rubies, and the city, with its crime and expense, exists as a place that the middle-class is lucky to be free of; its charms and satisfactions are forgotten, and notions of interdependence, cross-fertilization (of people and ideas), and public good are discarded.

(By the way, this is how Republicans are made.)