Is "Commander in Chief" good for the Clinton campaign?

As Gloria Steinem wrote in her article “Women are never front-runners” in January of 2008, “gender is probably the most restricting force in American life, whether the question is who must be in the kitchen or who could be in the White House.” She goes on to quote results from one study by saying that this country “polarizes gender roles more than the average democracy.” Women are not elected to political offices as much as men, despite having similar credentials. In the midst of the current presidential race for the Democratic candidate, it is a clear battle between a woman and a black man – is America ready for either candidate?

With its pilot episode airing in September of 2005, ABC’s television series “Commander in Chief” attempted to break the conception that women could not be front-runners in the political realm by creating a presidential administration in the control of Mackenzie Allen (portrayed by Geena Davis), the first female President of the United States. However, after only one season of 18 episodes, the show was cancelled officially on May 13, 2006 due to various reasons, including low viewer ratings.

For my final project, I want to examine this low viewer response to this series in comparison to its male-counterpart, “The West Wing,” which walked away with 3 Golden Globe awards and 26 Emmys during the course of its 7-season production. More specifically, I want to see how the influence of our media, through television, has any application to the politics of reality. It is interesting that in today’s society, more people vote for the American Idol contestants than they do in the presidential elections. Does the poor response to “Commander” give any indication as to the success of Hilary Clinton’s campaign, especially as a campaign to elect the first female President of the United States?

At 80, Oscar is conservative?

A Review of the 80th Annual Academy Awards, aired on February 24th, 2008 on ABC.

Sure the standard phrase “and the award goes to…” was used numerous times throughout the night but something was missing from this year’s 80^th Annual Academy Awards. There was haute couture, diamonds and schmoozing; tears were shed, speeches delivered, and awards accepted but it was a different awards ceremony.

To sum it up simply, it was a show lacking in fanfare and exuberance. Starting from the red carpet, the haute couture that has been so elaborate over the years was moderate and tame, colors primarily consisting of blacks, deep purples, and silvers, with the occasional red dress worn by a few. The dramatics in these outfits were minimal and everyone was covered tastefully.

This simplicity and moderation was carried into the Kodak Theater as the stage was austere, having only 2 podiums at either side and a microphone that appeared for the reading and accepting of awards. Even the acceptance speeches were kept straightforward and uncontroversial. In her acceptance of Best Original Screenplay for “Juno,” writer Diablo Cody was the only actress (other than host Jon Stewart) to mention the writers by saying “this [award] is for the writers."

Differing from previous years, the film nominations this year tended to lean more to the dark, bleak, and even violent side. Stewart found this worth mentioning as he commented: "Does this town need a hug? What happened? “No Country for Old Men,” “Sweeney Todd,” “There Will Be Blood.” All I can say is, thank God for teen pregnancy."

Despite the somber attitude that seemed to afflict everyone in attendance, there were patches of light that were able to cut through the overcast atmosphere. Such a light was found with Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova performing their song “Falling Slowly” nominated for Best Original Song in the motion picture, “Once.”

In contrast to the other nominations, “Once” is a musical that lets the music dictate not just with words and sounds but also emotions and passions. It makes no apologies for its simplistic musical style and Hansard’s and Irglova’s performance highlight this as they perform on stage with only a borrowed piano and a broken guitar. This simplicity wins out as Hansard and Irglova take home their first Academy Award.

On a more interesting note, no American actor or actress took home an Oscar for his or her performance in a film this year. Irishman Daniel Day-Lewis sure enough picked up the award for best performance by an actor in a leading role - no surprise here for his excellent work in the Paul Thomas Anderson’s film, “There Will Be Blood.” The female counterpart for this award was given to France-native Marion Cotillard for her performance as legendary Edith Piaf in “La Vie en Rose.” And, as for best supporting roles, Spanish actor Javier Bardem (for “No Country for Old Men”) and British actress Tilda Swinton (in “Michael Clayton”) took home these awards.

With the turn to more international talent, this may indicate a shift away from the flashiness of Hollywood with its special effects and technical editing to a more naturalistic, simple style, often found in the foreign films. With the increasing popularity of such films like “Juno” and “Once,” there is something to be said for the phrase “less is more.”

All in all, after the cancellation of the Golden Globes due to the writers’ strike, one might think that Hollywood would kick it up a notch to make up Oscar’s 80^th birthday a special one but according to Stewart, being 80 makes him now “automatically the front-runner for the Republican nomination.” Whether this was any foreshadowing on Stewart’s part as to how the show would continue, the Academy Awards this year were simply that - conservative.

Deflation appropriate for the red carpet?

A response to “Jon Stewart, Hands Long Tied by Strike, Pedals Fast for Oscars,” published in the New York Times, Wednesday February 20, 2008.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/20/arts/television/20stewart.html?_r=1&ref=television&pagewanted=all

For sports fans, their Super Bowl has long been gone, concluding with one of the biggest upsets in sports history as the New York Giants defeated the favored New England Patriots. Is this any foreshadowing for the coming Oscars – entertainment fans’ own “Super Bowl?” Is the film industry in for a big upset? With the writers’ strike just finishing and Jon Stewart at the helm, it is going to be a sprint to pull off one of the most televised shows in just 8 days.

For Mr. Stewart, having only 8 days to prepare for the event does not seem to faze him. Interestingly, he considers hosting the Oscars an “elective,” coming second to his own “Daily Show” which has taken up much of his energy during the writers’ strike.

Having not watched many episodes of the “Daily Show,” I am not very familiar with Mr. Stewart’s humor or personal comedy style. As he describes it, “it’s the comedy of deflation in large amount.” Deflating Washington politicians is the norm for the “Daily Show,” but what about Hollywood? Mr. Stewart’s response: “Washington and Hollywood are really sister cities…the only difference between Hollywood and Washington is that Washington actually has power.”

For Washington politics, his humor fits because this is not the biggest night of their lives and they are not in the room with him, but for the actors and everyone else in the film industry, balance and appropriate tailoring are needed.

After reading this piece, I am interested in seeing the efforts of 8 days worth of work (on Mr. Stewart’s part) for one of biggest nights of the year in the entertainment industry. Though I have not seen many of the films that have been nominated, this is not a problem. While some people watch the Oscars to get an idea of the films that they should see, I watch the award show for the statements that are made – fashion, political, and the like. With the cancellation of the Golden Globes this year, there is a lot of pent-up energy in the industry and it is ready to be released this Sunday on the red carpet.

A Night of Booze and Banter

THEATER REVIEW

Whether it is something trivial about not calling on time or something more significant as a cheating spouse, almost every couple has a spat from time to time. In order to remedy such arguments, many couples turn towards couples counseling for help but for Martha and George in Edward Albee’s play “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” their therapy is the liquor bar in their living room.

With a minimal set and the audience surrounding the stage, the focus is on the actors as Albee’s words become their own. This is the formula that makes this production work as every grimace or expression of pain is witnessed, every hurtful word echoing in the ears in their struggle of “illusion versus reality.”

Under the direction of Randy Wolfe and in the intimacy of the Whole Art Theater in downtown Kalamazoo, Albee’s play centers on the marital issues plaguing Martha (Martie Philpot) and George (Richard Philpot), only such issues are intensified by the mass consumption of alcohol.

The Latin phrase “in vino veritas” (“truth in wine”) becomes evident right from the first drink as the harsh truths between George and Martha come pouring out. After they just come home from her father’s dinner party at two in the morning, Martha announces to George that she has invited guests over. Into this already tense atmosphere come the young biology professor Nick (Trevor Maher) and his younger, “slim-hipped” wife Honey (Carol Zombro).

The course of the evening into the following morning takes place over three long acts. What transpires is basically a series of drunken mind games, in which George and Martha try to humiliate and hurt each other. For these games, the actors expertly exploit being in the round as they almost physically circle each other as much as their words do.

Because there is little outside action, it is the words and dialogues between the characters that create the movement and timing is key. For this quartet of actors, their timing is impeccable, catching every sarcastic note with a retort or even just a raise of an eyebrow, despite the occasional dropped line.

Mr. and Ms. Philpot shine in their leading roles as husband and wife on-stage. The casting is paramount with Mr. Philpot’s 35 years of acting experience accounting for his sharp wit, even with his astounding blood-alcohol content. His suffering, waning portrayal of George is spineless and crafty with a sense of nebbish sarcasm. While his wife is blatantly seducing Nick, George continues to simply sit and read his book and his response to Martha’s comment that she sees what he is up to is that he “is up to page a hundred and …” She tries to bait him but Mr. Philpot’s ability to remain nonchalant, even in his tone, is impressive only to show his repressed emotions as soon as she leaves with Nick by hurling the book at the door chimes. There is pain and there is anguish etched into the wrinkles of a man worn by 23 years of marriage.

Ms. Philpot’s Martha is cruel, vulgar and sexual, but she lacks vulnerability. Her eyes seem frighteningly hardened as she goads and torments her husband, exclaiming that he is a “big flop!” As a result, it is difficult to muster up the sympathy she might deserve at the end of the play. However, it is Maher’s Nick that makes for the most awkward performance as he hides behind his bourbon and the cloud of smoke he produces with his cigarettes. His words are forgettable as he lacks conviction and experience that his counterparts seem to possess.

Though no one in the audience was “busting a gut,” Wolfe creates an emotional balance between the illusion and the reality of marriage, as echoed in Albee’s script. The illusion is a hope to mend the dysfunctional marriage but the reality is that George and Martha need to seek counseling from something other than the bottom of an alcohol bottle.

Good yarn but no sweater?

This review, written by Charles Isherwood, was published in the New York Times on Monday, February 11. The link for this review is below:

http://theater2.nytimes.com/2008/02/11/theater/reviews/11oroo.html?ref=theater

Right from the first line, the reader already knows where the critic, Charles Isherwood, stands in his review of the play “Oroonoko,” which opened in the Duke Theater in New York this past weekend. In his words, this show is a “disappointment onstage.” He sets up the background of the play by giving the reader some information about the writing and directing (which is helpful because it gives context to a not-so-well-known piece), acclaiming the talent that this piece possess only to counter this collaboration of work as a “strangely bland if superficially exotic work of theater.”

His words are descriptive, sharp, and precise and this makes for a good read as the images he evokes are clear to the reader. For example, in “Oroonoko’s” ability to address the significant matters such as psychological intricacies, depth, and the narrative, Isherwood states that the play “is about on the level of the higher-grade children’s theater.” The image is sentimental (as who can’t love a child’s production?) but clear – this play is not for those seeking intellectual stimulation.

Overall, this is a good example of a theater review, based on the criteria given in “Writing the Performance Review.” Isherwood makes this review approachable with his images, tone, and word choice. Isherwood does not completely pan the show as he calls it “good yarn” as the different technical aspects are there – sets, costumes, lighting, acting, etc. However, while these elements are necessary to even make a show, the final product does not measure up to the quality of these components. It is “good yarn” but the quality of the sweater depends on the individual’s taste and this is said for the whole of “Oroonoko.”

(On a side note, this play is an adaptation of a short novel by Aphra Behn and interestingly, Isherwood mentions that as one of the first Englishwomen to earn lasting fame as a writer, “she was celebrated for her pioneering spirit by no less than Virginia Woolf.” This reference just caught my eye because Woolf is in the title of the play we are seeing on Thursday. Some more research might be done to see why Behn was celebrated by Woolf and why this is of significance.)

Talk therapy - the new "Dr. Phil"

Replacing “The Sopranos” mob boss, blood, and guns as weapons, HBO’s newest series focuses on the power of words as weapons – their assaultive ability to reveal unwelcome truths or awaken new revelations and deep-seeded emotions. Moreover, for HBO’s newest drama “In Treatment,” action is created with these words, triggering feelings and releasing secrets. Unlike Dr. Malfi of “The Sopranos,” “In Treatment” is the new “Dr. Phil” with Paul Weston as the leading man.

Adapted from the popular Israeli series “Be ‘Tipul” created by Hagai Levi, “In Treatment” centers on psychotherapist Paul Weston, played by Gabriel Byrne, and his daily sessions with his patients. Mondays through Thursdays are appointments with his patients – Laura, Alex, Sophie and the married couple Jake and Amy before concluding on Fridays. For the Friday episodes, the role of psychotherapist-patient is reversed and the viewer is witness to Paul’s sessions with his own therapist, Dr. Gina Toll (Dianne Wiest), in which Paul is now the patient, placed under the scrutinizing questioning of his former colleague.

Within the framework of little music, unchanging scenery, and minimal camera work, the focus is now on the actors and their abilities to portray characters burdened with secrets and issues, needing the security of the intimate home-office to delve deeper into their troubled lives. Because of the lack of “extras” (i.e. special effects, varied settings, etc.) within this series, it is a necessity for the actors to be able to capture and hold the viewer’s attention and, for the most part, the actors do this. Though slow at times, they exploit the scripts for every bit of theatricality and their stage is the office.

This is what makes the show work. The actors, such as Byrne, Melissa George, and Wiest, connect with their characters and, as a result, connect with each other. As Paul’s patient “Laura,” George convincingly conveys her infatuations with Paul as she explains to him how he has become the “center of her life.” The melodramatic nature of her character is highlighted with her comment that she came to “[the office] in darkness and now [is] leaving into a bigger darkness.” What could potentially be perceived as an uncomfortable voyeuristic experience is expertly shifted to one of sexual confusion and loss of self. This loss is all too real for many patients undergoing therapy.

Complementing George’s performance as the patient is the performance by Byrne. Whether he is playing the doctor or the patient, he has the uncanny ability to convey frustration, exhaustion or surprise with a shift in the chair or a raise of an eyebrow. He is believable as a psychotherapist, asking the leading questions, probing for answers, and even responding professionally to the retorts thrown back to him by his patients. With his unwavering expressions, Byrne’s eyes see through everyone but himself.

The connection between Wiest and Byrne is one of experience as they circle each other with words, truths, and unfinished business in their dialogues. Despite her few lines, her wisdom and curiosity are apparent with her mercilessly directed questions which makes her a good fit for her character as Paul’s mentor – a therapist for the therapist.

Despite the excellent performances and the ability of the words to draw the viewer in, like ‘erotic transference,’ there just is not enough momentum in the dialogues to keep the viewer’s attention. There is progress to be made, revelations to be had, tears to be shed and diagnoses to be determined if one can wait long enough to get there.

"A Creation Within a Creation"

A response to Oscar Wilde's "The Critic as Artist"

Set as a critical dialogue between two characters, a questioning Ernest and a knowing Gilbert, Oscar Wilde argues and defends his views of criticism - criticism as an art form, the true definition of a critic, and criticism's value over art, for example – in his piece, “The Critic as Artist.” For Wilde, conveyed in the voice of Gilbert, good criticism “treats the work of art simply as a starting point for a new creation.” Moreover, he goes on to say that good criticism does not confine itself “to discovering the real intention of the artist and accepting that as final.” This is the foundation of the Aesthetic movement (written during this time of the Victorian era) as the purpose of art is not to convey meaning but rather to provide pleasure and beauty – “art for art’s sake.”

Therefore, in order to be a good critic, one is not meant to explain the meaning in a piece of art (as this is subjective and meant to be personal for each individual) but to be an interpreter for the public. As Wilde describes, it is the critic’s privilege to be able to make the Beauty of a piece available for the common man. For Wilde, this requires personality as “it is only by intensifying his own personality that the critic can interpret the personality and work of others, and the more real the interpretation becomes, the more satisfying, the more convincing, and the more true.”

Wilde ultimately places the critic above the artist and criticism itself as an art – creative and independent (as it does not necessarily have to reflect the creation for which it is based) – it is a creation within a creation. However, he also believes that unless there is criticism, creativity is meaningless. If he means criticism as personal interpretation, then this would be true as personal interpretation is subjective and potentially creates meaning, from the creativity, for that person. But criticism has to start somewhere and so in order to be a “creation within a creation,” criticism needs a creation – criticism needs art.

Accessible art

For Pauline Kael, the legendary film critic, a good movie makes her feel great and she believes “good movies do that for people." Starting from early childhood, Kael has always expressed her love of the movies, both good and bad, and her writing of these movies reflects such an enthusiasm. Her ability to capture the reader’s attention with her words, tone and insights reflects the influential status that she has had as a film critic on today’s society.

Unlike today’s film critics, Kael did not pursue her writing career from the start, despite her childhood love of movies. Earning her philosophy major from UC-Berkley, Kael worked a range of different jobs in her early adulthood in order to make ends meet. Such jobs included anything from a cook to a seamstress, an ad copywriter to a bookstore clerk. This diverse background gave Kael her insight into how to approach her everyday reader with her words. Instead of using “academic English” when writing about the movies, Kael preferred using the language that they were created in – “the language of movies.” In her opinion, not to do so was “an attempt to elevate movies…it denies them what makes them distinctive.” It is the language that everyday people would speak when they would leave the theater and this is what she wanted to capture – something familiar and attainable.

Her language sets a scene and a tone for the reader, whether or not it was about the movie. Often it was said that she wrote so vividly about the experience of seeing the movie, sometimes even more so than writing about the actual movie. In her essay, Renata Adler criticizes Kael’s use of “we,” “you,” “we feel/know/needs,” etc. in her writing as she believes that this is manipulative. However, for Kael, this is an effective way of making the movies accessible for her audiences. She writes her pieces on a personal level and by using “we” or “you,” she addresses the reader directly, engaging them and convincing them in her argument.

Kael was not afraid of addressing the issues that everyone else tried to avoid in particular movies. In her review of “Hiroshima Mon Amour,” instead of focusing on the acclaimed movie itself (which she does for all of a couple paragraphs), Kael critiques the broader implications of such an “art house” movie on its viewing audience. Moreover, she believed in championing the best that movies had to offer, finding meaning in some of the worst movies. For example, she wanted to do a review of “Deep Throat” and not because it was a good movie but because of the social implications involved in such a movie. She felt that “not to deal with all that [eroticism] in its most naked form was to shrink part of what’s involved in being a movie critic.”

As Francis Davis describes in his book, Afterglow: A Last Conversation with Pauline Kael, it was Pauline Kael who “established the movie review as a form of literature with the potential for social commentary.” Through her provocative writing style, she could sharply uncover faults as easily as she could crown a new piece of art. Her influence lies in her belief that “art happens in the real world and that it should be an instrument of pleasure.” This belief has become a governing principle in writing about rock and pop today – art that can be accessible and attainable by everyone, not just the highbrows.