June 19, 2004
The annoying scandal revolving around the (not so) new Nicole Kidman film makes me slightly worried that we'll have to wait even longer to see it. I don't think anyone I've mentioned it to has even heard of it, but the trailer I saw at the New Line luncheon last September suggested that it might be one of the most original movies to come along in a long time; having just seen that Jean-Claude Carriere (of various Luis Bunuel classics) is behind the script, I'm even more excited about it.
There've been a lot of plays in the area that I've wanted to see lately -- Topdog/Underdog, The Mercy Seat -- but haven't; live theater is something I generally don't feel the urge to seek out, although I've often felt the urge to feel that urge. I wish it wasn't so expensive. But the local premier of Patrick Marber's Closer was this week, and it's one of those plays that I've been wanting to see, and rather than kick myself later for missing it, I decided to jump at the chance to go. It was quite good, but it also seemed very distant, and it took some time before I could relate to any of the characters (aside from Alice, the needy, screwed up girl who is the kind of character I always end up relating to). Throughout the whole thing I kept thinking about how great it would be, how much deeper it would seem, with close-ups (I'll find out if I'm right this Christmas, I suppose). I guess one of the things I don't like about plays is that you can't have quiet moments to examine people up close; no long scenes of people walking or sitting still and thinking. Of course, theater has plenty of things that movies don't have, and I guess it all comes down to the fact that film is simply my medium of choice. I can't even read a book without filming it in my head. Maybe I'll write a play.
Anyway, the story takes place in London (providing the production's only real fault, as one of the actors hadn't mastered the accent as well as his costars), and in between scenes the darkness was appropriately scored with Britpop: Radiohead, Muse, Portishead and such. The lights went up at the curtain call to the tune of Blur's Tender. I haven't listened to that song in three years, for no reason in particular, and hearing it was sort of a shock. Not because it's been three years since I've heard it, but because the last time I heard it was three years ago.
P.S. when I mentioned that the song on the new PJ Harvey album called The End was one of my favorites, I was mistaken; I miscounted track numbers, and the song I was referring to, which is my favorite, I think, is called The Desparate Kingdom Of Love.
Posted by David Lowery at June 19, 2004 2:20 AM