Jul
24
Rocky Horror Picture No!
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“The Rocky Horror Picture Show” plays at the Nuart in Los Angeles every Saturday. I go about once a year or so. That said, I know absolutely none of the callbacks. I don’t dress up like my favorite character, either. I’m just there because it’s a fun time-killer on a Saturday night, and there are always some muy caliente young women in attendance.
For the uninitiated, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” is a movie adaptation of “The Rocky Horror Show” stage musical. It’s a sexy send-up of 1950s B-pictures that stars Tim Curry — as Dr. Frankenfurter, a self-described “sweet transvestite from transsexual Transylvania” — and a very young, very “aoogah” Susan Sarandon. The film was a bunker-busting bomb when it opened in 1975, but it ultimately became the longest-running theatrical release in cinema history once it caught on with the midnight movie crowd. Nowadays, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a major city that doesn’t have some art house that screens the movie for devotees at least once a month, if not once a week.
The experience of going to see “Rocky” is unlike your average night out at the movies. Sitting there in stone silence isn’t encouraged. You’re actually supposed to talk back to the screen. In fact, there are all sorts of pre-scripted “callbacks” one shouts at certain moments throughout the film. These callbacks have evolved over the film’s 30+ years of playing to obsessed fans. Each time I go, I’m amazed at how current events will make their way into the fold.
At the Nuart, not only do audience members hurl insults at the screen, but a “shadow cast” — a troupe called Sins O’ The Flesh — acts out the movie as it plays behind them. They have character-specific costumes, props and visual gags that collectively add another layer of obsessive fandom to the experience. You don’t actually go to “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” to watch “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” I’ve been four times now, and I still have no friggin’ idea what’s going on in the movie; it’s something about a newly engaged couple that winds up at a castle populated by cross-dressers. No, you go to see “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” to have a movie-going experience that’s unlike any other.
And MTV wants to suck all the fun out of that by remaking “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” as a TV movie, according to Bloody Disgusting. Did I not just explain in detail how the film is 100% more enjoyable when seen with a large crowd of weirdos dressed in drag? I own “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” on DVD and have yet to watch it. That’s partly because I’m waiting for Halloween to roll around. I’m also convinced that watching it at home won’t be nearly as much fun as being in a theater and seated next to women in corsets and fishnet stockings.
“The Rocky Horror Picture Show” is an interactive movie. When they do “The Time Warp” musical number in the movie, the people in the audience get out of their seats and “do a jump to the left, then step to the right,” etc. I would imagine there’s something wholly unsatisfying about “a pelvic thrust” when performed at home by yourself.
I think MTV’s completely lost their minds. What, are they going to have the cast of “Real World: Transsexual Transylvania” star in this piece of trash? Do they honestly think the hardcore fans of “Rocky” are going to want to see this? I’m not even a diehard, and I couldn’t be less interested. This is the most obvious example of lack-brained building on a brand I’ve seen to date. You can bet that whenever this monstrosity airs, I’ll instead be catching the Late Night Double Feature Picture Show at the Nuart.
-Brad Lohan
Jul
6
The Buzz on “The Fly: The Opera”
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I’ve actually never seen the original version of “The Fly.” The David Cronenberg remake, however, is one of my favorite films from the ’80s. It’s a fantastic piece of science fiction and a truly moving exploration of terminal illness.
In the film, physicist Seth Brudle (Jeff Goldblum) invents a means of teleportation. When he attempts to teleport himself, a common housefly becomes an unwitting participant in the experiment. Brundle and the fly are fused together at the genetic level. At first he believes teleportation has somehow improved him physically. His strength, agility and fondness for candy bars have all been increased. But then he begins to transform into “Brundlefly,” a gruesome hybrid of man and insect. And his girlfriend Ronnie (Geena Davis) soon finds out she’s pregnant.
The sci-fi elements of the film don’t overshadow the human story. This film is about dying of cancer or of AIDS, a fairly unknown and misunderstood illness when the film was released in 1986. It’s not a movie about a guy who turns into a giant bug and kills people. Brudlefly remains sympathetic to the end, even when he’s regurgitating acid onto the limbs of Ronnie’s creep of an ex-boyfriend, Stathis Borans (John Getz). You genuinely care about Brudlefly. Goldblum’s that brilliant in the role, buried beneath piles of malformed foam latex. He still exudes the agony, the fear and the macabre humor of a man who’s dying of an incurable disease.
Now it’s an opera. I’ve never seen an opera before, but I would absolutely see “The Fly: The Opera.” After all, it’s not “The Fly 2: The Opera.” Ain’t It Cool News has a mixed-positive review from the Paris premiere last week. It doesn’t open in Los Angeles until September. Cronenberg and Howard Shore, who composed the music for the film, are involved. If this is a cynical cash-in, at least the right cynics are involved. Unfortunately, Goldblum isn’t reprising his role as Brudle. I’m not sure if he has the pipes for it. But how does a fly sing anyway?
-Brad Lohan
Jul
1
Momma, My Eyes!
Filed Under Blockbusters, Movies, Theatre | Leave a Comment
They made a movie about a friggin’ ABBA song?! Is this the very best Hollywood can do? And what the stink is James Bond doing in this mess?
Evidently, this film is based on a stage musical of the same name. When writing a musical now, you don’t even need to write original music, rather a bunch of loosely-connected scenes you can shoehorn insipid ABBA songs into. Then, some producer will come along and make your uninspired monstrosity of a stage show into an equally uninspired monstrosity of a movie.
This horrorshow is opening the same day as “The Dark Knight” in a sneaky little bit of counter-programming on the part of Universal Pictures. Now you might say that the new Batman movie is just another cynical product of franchising, not unlike “Mamma Mia.” I would have to disagree. Early reviews I’m reading of “The Dark Knight” are calling it a “masterpiece” that elevates the comic book genre in the same way that “Godfather II” elevated gangster pictures and “Empire Strikes Back” elevated sci-fi. In short, it takes the source material to another level. I’m not seeing any indication that “Mamma Mia” is such a game-changer.
Some people might say that I’m being unfair, that “Mamma Mia” is just harmless entertainment. Those people are weenises. “Mamma Mia” is piffle and doesn’t even want to be original. It’s an adaptation of an adaptation. It’s not nearly as ill-conceived as that useless “Producers” movie that came out a couple years ago — a film that’s based on a stage musical that’s based on another film. But that still doesn’t justify its existence.
Studios are run by yellow-bellied bean counters, too timid to greenlight anything new or different. They like brand names, things that are familiar to the mainstream audience. Even non-adaptations stink of sameness, like tomorrow’s “Hancock.” What’s key to successfully cashing in on a brand name and maintaining some modicum of artistic integrity is bringing something fresh to the proceedings, an original approach. Now if Pierce Brosnan were blowing away criminal masterminds with a Walther PPK, bedding that bug-eyed blonde girl on all the “Mamma Mia” posters, and singing “Dancing Queen,” that’d be something different. Unfortunately, I didn’t see any of that business in the trailers. So I’m absolutely not going to take a chance on “Mia.”
-Brad Lohan
Jun
28
iO West Now Has a Drive-Thru
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Last Wednesday marked the end of my Level 1 improv class at iO West. Last Thursday marked the end of iO West’s front entrance when an SUV bounced onto the sidewalk, skittered over Chris Farley’s star on the Walk of Fame, and plunged through the glass doors. I don’t believe al-Qaeda have been ruled out as suspects. But I still think we should invade another Middle Eastern country just to be sure.
It looks as though the bar was completely destroyed, another reason to blame al-Qaeda; Islamo-Fascists don’t drink! Shows have been postponed until July 7th, but classes will remain on-schedule. I hadn’t signed up for Level 2 classes before the events of 6/26 (never forget!), having put my improv comedy studies on hold so I can spend the summer in Europe. I’m not physically going to Europe, but there are some foreign films at the top of my Netflix queue. “The Dirty Dozen” counts, right?
Seriously, folks, out of all the places in Hollywood that could’ve been hit, I am saddened that it had to be iO. There’s a Popeye’s Chicken a block over from iO on Cahuenga that looks like a truck already drove through it. But that’s why they’re called “terrorists.” They don’t enjoy improv comedy like you or I. And they drive gas-guzzling SUVs — all the more reason to hate them.
The only way we can fight these monsters is to keep buying stuff, like tickets to upcoming iO shows once their doors reopen. You should also vote for John McCain or we’ll just get hit again. Maybe next time it’ll be the Groundlings or Second City. I’m willing to make the “ultimate sacrifice” by driving to Hollywood on a weeknight(!!!) to check out an iO show. But I won’t have to worry about parking now that they have a drive-thru.
-Brad Lohan
Jun
21
Actors’ Gang: “1984″
Filed Under Books, Theatre | Leave a Comment
I don’t see enough plays. A few years ago, I used to go all the time. There are so many great theatres in and around the L.A.-area. I prefer the smaller venues. The ticket prices are a tad steeper than a movie — usually around $15 - $18 — but you’re pretty much guaranteed solid performances across the board and maybe a famous face or two.
This afternoon, I went to see a stage production of “1984″ at the Redcat in Downtown L.A.
I’d somehow managed to get through high school without having read George Orwell’s novel. Only last year did I get around to finally reading it and loved every prescient page. Shortly after, I tracked down the out-of-print DVD of the film, starring John Hurt and Richard Burton and Suzannah Hamilton’s naughty bits. I found the movie entertaining, but a fairly dry and straightforward adaptation. The trouble with realizing the book on film is that so much of Winston Smith’s conflict is internal. He spends a lot of his time reading and writing, somewhat boring activities on film. But all the sex and torture scenes manage to spice things up a bit.
The stageplay, directed by Tim Robbins, retains the spirit of the novel, but strips everything down to one location — a holding cell in the bowels of the Ministry of Love where Smith stands accused of his numerous thoughtcrimes. Shaved bald, looking half-starved and wearing blood-stained undergarments, the actor portraying Smith is shackled to the floor and harangued by four party members as well as the booming, omnipresent voice of Big Brother. Passages from his diary are read back to him and key scenes from the novel are reenacted. Ultimately, Smith is hauled into room 101 and tortured further by O’Brien, where he learns that two plus two equals five and to stop worrying and love Big Brother.
The stage has its own set of limitations, but unlike film, allows for the audience to use their imagination to a greater degree. I was sort of disappointed that all the action was limited to the holding cell. I would’ve liked the structure of the novel to have remained in place and more locations to have been used: Winston’s apartment, his cubicle at the Ministry of Truth, the room in the Prole district where he and Julia meet in secret, O’Brien’s apartment, etc. The same backdrop of the holding cell could’ve remained part of the background (thematically it would’ve worked brilliantly), but a few tables and chairs and the audience’s imagination could’ve gone a long way in building a larger world.
With the story being described more or less in series of flashbacks, the conflict doesn’t necessarily rise and the character beats seem much more anecdotal. Stretching out Smith’s interrogation over two hours is also a bit exhausting with all the yelling and screaming and electrocuting that’s going on.
Robbins does bring a few contemporary touches to the production. The party members are wearing Oceania lapel pins, and the words “terrorist” and “homeland” find their way into the script several times. Yet I’m surprised Smith wasn’t wearing an orange jumpsuit, and I guess waterboarding was too messy. Despite my nitpicks, I did in fact enjoy the stage version of “1984.” You could say I had a plus-good time taking in a little theatre this weekend.
-Brad Lohan