The Rice Thresher (Houston, Tex.), Vol. 86, No. 10, Ed. 1 Friday, November 13, 1998 Page: 12 of 20
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12
the rice
thresher ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT
friday, november 13, 1998
/•A'//./) i-i.rn-) FRUITY
'Baboons' pleases
despite poor writing
PETER MOUNTAIN/MIRAMAX FILMS
Christian Bale idolizes his sexually ambiguous musical heroes in the Todd Haynes' new film Velvet Goldmine.
(ilam rock hits peak in art film
Mariel Tarn
THRESHER EDITORIAL STAFF
Todd Haynes' Velvet Goldmine is
a stylized, stylish homage to glam
rock. The film is part fictionalized
docudrama, part fantasy, filled with
first-rate performances, amazing
costumes and glitter rock covers
and originals. Like the movement it
eulogizes, the film isgaudy and vivid,
at times made strangely and strik-
ingly beautiful. That said, it's also a
jumbled stew of images, the sum of
which left me confused and unsure
of the writer/director's ultimate
'velvet goldmine
Rating: ++ 1/2 (out of five)
Currently in theaters.
motive, if he indeed has one.
Like Citizen Kane, its obvious
model, Velvet Goldmine tells its story
primarily through flashbacks. In
1984, young reporter Arthur Stuart
(Christian Bale) sets off to London
to track down the full story behind
rock star Brian Slade's faked onstage
murder a decade ago. The story of
Slade's ascent to fame and his even-
tual self-destruction unravels as
Arthur interviews Slade's first man-
ager and his ex-wife Mandy (Toni
Collette).
As Slade, wiry 19-year-old
Jonathan Rhys-Meyers exudes boy-
ish vulnerability when he starts his
career 8s a quiet folk singer in a
dress. His youthfulness makes it all
the more believable when he falls
for Mandy and, later, American
rockerCurt Wild (Ewan McGregor).
When Curt showers himself in glit-
ter and steps out of his pants onstage,
Slade is transfixed, wide-eyed and
gape-mouthed, by his new inspira-
tion.
Slade begins to
live only for
drugs and sex,
fading into
obscurity.
Mandy, a middle-American girl
with a fake British accent, helps
transform Slade into his gaudily at-
tired, sexually ambiguous alter ego
Maxwell Demon, catapulting Slade
(modeled on David Bowie/Ziggy
Stardust) to stardom.
Predictably, Rhys-Meyers' char-
acter descends into the downward
spiral of a careless, jaded pop star
tired of fame. His popularity falls
rapidly after the press reveals his
death as a hoax, and Slade begins to
live only for drugs and sex, fading
into obscurity. Though his role is at
times unoriginal, Rhys-Meyers has
Slade's self-destructiveness down
pat.
Collette performs the over-the-
top Mandy with a vigor that van-
ishes when her marriage and part-
nership with Slade falls apart. When
Arthur interviews her in 1984 in
scenes very reminiscent of Citizen
Kane, she's performing as 'The Di-
vine Miss Mandy Slade," a pathetic,
tired shell of her former self. Collette
is at her peak when, as Mandy, she
delivers divorce papers to an uncon-
cerned Slade — in her distress, she
lets fall her facade, Mandy's care-
fully feigned accent.
The film's best performance
comes from McGregor for the sheer
amount of energy he invests in his
character.-As Curt, an amalgam of
Iggy Pop, Lou Reed and other rock-
ers of the day, McGregor writhes
and throws himself about onstage.
With Curt's bleached-blond hair,
however, he also bears an either
blatantly obvious or accidental re-
semblance to a late latter-day rocker
also named Kurt.
Flashbacks of Slade and Curt are
interwoven (in a sometimes confus-
ing and not quite chronological fash-
ion) with Arthur's own reluctant
memories of the era. The journalist
doubles as the quintessential teen-
age groupie, whose obsession with
the stars of glam rock provokes his
discovery of his own sexuality, get-
ting him kicked out of the house by
his stereotypical stodgy English par-
ents. Thus begins the teen-age
Arthur's life on the fringe, observ-
ing the glitter scene from the per-
spective of a fan — someone young,
vulnerable and madly in love with
his idols.
In the end, Arthur's reflections
bring him no great revelations, no
heaven-sent truths, but only a sense
of wonderment at having taken some
. small part in the glam rock move-
ment.
But ultimately, despite the
strengths of the actors, we never
really get inside the characters and
understand their motives. I can't
even tell why Slade makes music —
is it the fame? the money? or is it an
honest desire to create and perform?
Physically, the characters are
painted vividly, in all their Day-Glo/
feather boa/tight pants glory. But
they're also too stylized, little more
than one-dimensional. Arthur is the
ambitious young journalist as well
as the borderline groupie. Slade is
the sensitive singer corrupted and
destroyed by his fame, and Curt's
the American rocker with rough
edges.
Slade and Curt fall hopelessly in
love, but they just can't get along
when they try to record an album
together. No explanation is given
for Curt's inability to cooperate; no
attempt is made to work out their
differences. The abrupt break in
their relationship is far too simplis-
tic.
Most of Haynes' elements of
magic realism fail. Granted, this film
was conceived as a series of fantas-
tic images, but some of them are so
bizarre that they do nothing jar the
flow of the story. His effects do work
in small doses — a scene that de-
picts hearts in Slade's eyes and dol-
lar signs in his manager's when they
look at Curt plays almost directly
for laughs out of its kitschy
cartoonishness.
Part of the prologue works on a
level meant to amuse as well as to
introduce the story. Oscar Wilde, at
the age of eight, proclaims, "I want
to be a pop idol," something report-
edly said by a high school-age Bowie.
But it's the rest of the prologue that
is too outlandish for audience mem-
bers to accept without rolling their
eyes: We see the infant Wilde
dropped off on a doorstep by a UFO
and the boy Wilde walking off into a
'stage-set sunset.
We see the infant
Wilde dropped off
on a doorstep by a
ufo and the boy
Wijde walking off.
Velvet Goldmine is still beauti-
fully filmed, both in Sandy Powell's
detailed costumes and in its cinema-
tography, particularly in -certain
shots that, while not overly original,
magnify a scene's already intense
mood. Some small shots manage to
astound: the starry glitter behind
Mandy when she first enchants
Slade; flashbacks that fade to white
like thoughts exploding in one's
brain; and close-ups on a turntable
and a record, magnifying the thrill
bordering on anxiety that surrounds
d iscovering the first album to change
one's life.
Unlike Citizen Kane, Velvet
Goldmine does not leave viewers
with one final, powerful image to
seal the story. Haynes instead ends
the film with a succession of short,
disjointed shots, most of which seem
unnecessarily tacked 8n. This end-
ing, like the rest of the film, may
have fit Haynes' desire to portray
the glam era as a series of images.
But it's hardly a satisfying journey.
PLAYERS, from Page 9
chanted children. The children, all
under the age of 13, resent their
parents for divorcing and their par-
ents' lovers for causing the separa-
tion. Though they were given suffi-
cient provocation from their often
immature bed-hopping parents, the
children were a lot of whining, com-
plaining brats.
I must commend Rice Players,
however, for perfectly casting the
children. Sarah (DeapnaSmith) took
the definition of a brat to new levels
when she berate hejj father with ac-
cusations of adultery and hatred of
her paternal mother. Though I don't-
blame her, her snippiness and flat-
out bitchy attitude towards her new
mother is fitting. I found myself ques-
tioning whether a fewnof them were
even students. By far the cutest of
the bunch were the twins, Robin
(Bati Myles) and Roger (Nam Ha).
Not until I noticed what appeared to
be a tattoo on Robin's leg did I real-
ize she wasn't a child.
Like any good Brady episode,
there is plenty of sexual innuendo
between the two eldest children,
Wayne (Bryan Wing) and Haley
(Julia Robinson). In this play the
innuendo quickly transforms into
action, failing to bring the audience
along for the ride. I did not sympa-
thize with the newly pubescents' love
or desire to copulate and reproduce
for "the good of the family." In fact,
the relationship between Wayne and
Haley was utterly unfathomable and
ridiculous. Regardless of their char-
acters' situation, Wing and Robinson
handled their roles well.
The family created in Four Ba-
boons made me thank God for adop-
tion and child protection services.
Phillip and Penny are dysfunctional
adults who inflicted their hollow ide-
alism and naivete on to their chil-
dren. They repeatedly exhibit bad
judgement in handling their chil-
dren and their love lives, and though
I'm sure these instances were pro-
vided to create a sense of reality and
empathy in the characters, I was left
feeling repulsed by them. At one
point, Phillip actually asserts that
Haley would be too chicken to com-
mit suicide in the name of love. This
was no Romeo and Juliet saga — the
love he refers to is irrational, infan-
tile emotion and is certainly not
worth dying for.
Kapur, through all Phillip's mis-
guided ideals, proved himself to be
a strong actor. His soliloquies were
vivid and sufficiently dramatic to
convey his character's emotions and
warped rationale. Pfleging, on the
other hand, never seemed to get
passed Penny's flighty decisions and
sm^ll range of emotion. She estab-
lished little depth in a character full
of possibilities.
Direction in Rice plays usually
goes unrecognized, but Ahmad
Hernandez is an exception. His skill-
ful direction created laughs and dra-
matic intensity that the script alone
failed to produce. Whether he was
organizing the entire'gang of chil-
dren to replicate car turns with their
bodies as passengers or creating a
roaring fire out of thin air, he was in/
tune with his audience.
Rice Players continues to prove
itself as a reliable source of good
theater on campus. Four Baboons
was adeptly acted,, beautifully de-
signed and well-directed. I see no
reason to condemn a talented pro-
duction for an unappealing script.
Dance troupe offers
eclectic alternative
DANCE, from Page 9
readily apparent in the performance.
"Dancing Girls" is as intense as the
music it is set to. The dancers were
eloquent and cofnposed without
being overbearing,
The final piece in the first group
of dances is "Vertigogo," a funky
and interesting dance choreo-
graphed by Hanszen College senior
Kristina Ranieri.
Several dancers each stri^f for
attention, variously trying to upstage
each other to garner the applause of
some audience. Mariah Johnson and
Laurel Boatwright stood out; each
of their solo portions piqued my in-
terest.
As a whole, the first act, which
also includes a duet with Brown
College senior Tumi Johnson and
Baker College senior Susie Vale,
combines five solidly produced
pieces into a generally successful
sequence that is alternately comical
and serious.
Its only real problem is that one
point in "Dancing Girls," when the
music stops and the dance contin-
ues in silence until the music re-
sumes, is confusing and interrupts
the flow of the piece.
The second half of the program
begins with "Running in Place," cho-
reographed by Rice Dance Theater
Director Linda Phenix.
Divided into two parts, the piece
begins with a campy show-tune se-
quence and turns into a sort of po-
litico-economic satire, including
dancers saying things like, "Ninety
percent of the benefit of the high
stock market goes to richest 10 per-
cent of the population. Well, that's
OK!"
Although the choreography and
dancing in this piece are well-
planned and executed, the two parts
s?Sm disjointed-thematically. Each
part, however, can stand on its own,
so the piece still manages to work as
a whole.
The next dance is "Come for Me,"
a solo danced and choreographed
by Benn. Although very energetic,
the piece is rather short. Pay close
attention when you watch this piece
— it's so short that if you blink you'll
miss a lot. ^ ..
Benri has done an excellent job
putting "Come for Me" together, and
her quick-paced and passionate
dancing is one of the program's high
points.
The final work in Dramatis Perso-
nae is "Different Trains," choreo-
graphed by Rebecca Vails. This is a
hectic piece juxtaposing the big-
band classic "Chattanooga Choo
Choo" wfth minimalist composer
Steve Reich's "Different Trains.'1
The rousing and fun piece makes
an excellent closer for the program.
Like most of the earlier ensemble
pieces, this one's great asset is its
dancers, who move swiftly through
the dance, performing Valls's entic-
ing choreography at near-profes-
sional caliber.
The great thing about Dramatis
Personae is its accessibility. For
those of you who think modern
dance is obscure and meaningless,
or at best open only to those in the
know, this production will impress
you or at least make you laugh and
enjoy it.
Rice Dance Theater will perform
Dramatis Personae only four times,
in a house that seats 80, so reserva-
tions are recommended. So if you
tire of the numerous college plays
currently running around campus,
try out Rice Dance Theater next
weekend — it's different, it's fun,
and it's even pretty good.
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Stoler, Brian. The Rice Thresher (Houston, Tex.), Vol. 86, No. 10, Ed. 1 Friday, November 13, 1998, newspaper, November 13, 1998; Houston, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth246633/m1/12/: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Rice University Woodson Research Center.