There is no golden palace.

Author's Note: I don't use this blog to talk about theatre (although I should) and this post doesn't focus on women in the theatre specifically, but it's my blog, and this is important enough to me to write about. 

The lucky thing about living in New York is the amount of amazing performances that can be seen on stage, not just on Broadway, but off-Broadway and even off off-Broadway, in experimental or lab theaters. Now. Here. This., which is currently having a developmental lab production at the Vineyard Theatre, is a prime example.

The production was written by Susan Blackwell and Hunter Bell and involves the rest of the [title of show] gang, Jeff Bowen and Heidi Blickenstaff. And if you don’t know what [title of show] is, Wikipedia that shit.

Now. Here. This. is still in the process of being developed and the performances at the Vineyard are part of the process, allowing rewriting and tweaking to occur. Most of the show is off-book, but there are parts that are not--which did not detract from the performances.

The premise of the show is about living in the intersection of…well, Susan Blackwell can say it in a more concise way: “There was this monk, Thomas Merton, who said that if you can get to the intersection of Now: this moment in time; Here: exactly where you are; This: exactly what you’re doing—if you can get to the intersection of those three things, then there’s nothing to fear and you can really appreciate your life.”

The “theatri-concert” is comprised of stories from each of the cast members, as well as mutual embarrassing stories (“hot moments”), stories about trying to fit in, and stories about conquering fears. And the stories do not mean listening to monologues for 90 minutes, but are often told through song.

To me, theatre and the theatre community is about acceptance. NHT certainly touches upon how all of the characters (and really, the actors are playing themselves much like they did in [tos]) struggle with acceptance: acceptance from their family, their peers, and ultimately, acceptance of themselves.

NHT is also about—much like [tos] was—conquering fear and allowing yourself to pursue what you really love. Slaying vampires. Realizing that you don’t need Gloria Vanderbilt jeans or an Izod polo shirt to fit in or be who you think you should be. You don’t need a golden palace to create great works. All of those ideas tie together in a way: you have to accept yourself for who you are in order to conquer your fears and create what you want to create or to do what you love.

It sounds simple when it’s written down, but it is easy to forget. There are always concerns and worries and your mind’s own vampires standing in the way of the Now. Here. This.

Don't say the c word. (Chick flick)

As much as I write about ladies I love--and I haven't even touched on a quarter of the amazing actresses out there--they could easily all be placed on an endangered species list.

We live in a male-centered entertainment world. Women will go see bromances (can we start calling them dick flicks?) or the countless action and superhero movies that Hollywood grinds out every year, yet men will not go see anything that is labeled "female" in the slightest.

Thus, as a recent Salon article mentioned, a grassroots campaign began to convince the studios that women's points of view are still worthy of being explored and yes, can be funny. Bridesmaids seems to be the golden ticket. (Although its marketing still leaves something to be desired. I recently had to correct a female friend of mine that it was not in fact, a Judd Apatow movie, but written by Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo.)

It is well worth our time and money. Bridesmaids is not only funny, but gets the friendships and everyday ups and downs right.

First of all, Kristen Wiig's quirky awkwardness is almost more familiar to me than Liz Lemon. She carries herself with a slight slouch which any shy, tall girl possesses. Annie's mannerisms when she is forced into an social situation she's not entirely comfortable in remind me of numerous friends. Annie's ability to look down on herself because she's lost her job and is living at home is so familiar to me as I struggle to figure out my career path. She doesn't see herself worthy of a good relationship with a nice guy, which I've seen so many of my friends (and possibly myself) do. And feeling like you're losing your best friend? I think there have been moments in most people's lives where they can relate to that.

The Judd Apatow-ing of the movie--basically the addition of a food poisoning scene in a bridal salon--may have been a little extreme, but the rest of the comedy felt pitch perfect.

You don't see these movies anymore. Baby Mama is the last funny movie I can think of that featured two women as the leads. I think it's interesting that both of these films are about events that are female-centric (being a bridesmaid, having a child), but I don't think that should prevent males from finding them funny.

Don't let these movies become extinct.

From Salon:

Yes we can … buy tickets to a Kristen Wiig movie in an effort to persuade Hollywood that multidimensional women exist, spend money and deserve to be represented on film.

What's motivating this campaign is simple: Hollywood studios do not make comedies for or about women anymore. Yes, they used to. As recently as a few decades ago, when comedy stars like Lily Tomlin, Bette Midler and Goldie Hawn stalked through theaters alongside supporting players like Teri Garr, Carol Kane and Madeline Kahn, bringing us movies that were sometimes sublime and sometimes disposable, but which had women at their heart. Think "Private Benjamin," "9 to 5," "Outrageous Fortune," "Down and Out in Beverly Hills"…


--
Salon: Seeing Bridesmaids is a social responsibility

NY Times: Can Kristen Wiig turn on the charm?

Vera Farmiga: Stop asking permission.

Vera Farmiga is one of those actresses that sneaks up on you. 

She was Oscar-nominated for her role in Up in the Air opposite George Clooney, but she's not exactly a household name. Yet. 

A few years ago, director Rod Lurie brought his film, Nothing But the Truth, (a story loosely based on the Valerie Plame scandal), to be screened at Syracuse University. Lurie mentioned that one of the stars, Vera Farmiga, was an alum and really wanted to be there, but she was pregnant and off shooting a movie with George Clooney. Such is life.

Nothing But the Truth wasn't exactly a hit, but Farmiga's portrayal of CIA operative Erica Van Doren was one of the best performances in the film in a cast list that included Alan Alda.

As a fellow SU alum, I've been following her career and would not have gone to see Source Code if she hadn't been cast in the film (as much as I enjoy Jake Gyllenhaal.)

Farmiga's role in Source Code looked small and efficient from the trailers, but I was excited to see what she could do with the part of Colleen Goodwin. The Guardian got it right when they said the littlest expressions make the character so much more than what was on the written page: “On screen, she possesses a rare combination of luminescence and a mastery of nuance, expressing internal conflict with a slight twist of the mouth; conveying a sense of deep emotion through the merest flicker of the eyes.”

Most of Goodwin's time is spent at a desk, staring into a lens, giving Jake Gyllenhaal's character orders, but whenever Farmiga was on camera, even in the background, I found my eyes drawn to her. 

Her performance is even more impressive when it turns out Gyllenhaal and Farmiga were not present in the same space while filming their scenes. It was shot much like it is portrayed in the movie, with Farmiga staring into a camera--an obstacle she had to tackle--with only the script supervisor as company or at the most, with Gyllenhaal on speakerphone, reading his lines. Yet there is an emotional connection between these characters when watching the movie, a credit to the two actors.

“That’s really what I focused on most, all the sort of psycho-spiritual energy between the two and how best to convey it when the actor is not in your presence....He [Gyllenhaal] was there a couple days reading lines off camera, but other than that it was a script supervisor and me staring into the barrel of the lens, which is extremely difficult to do for an actor that spends most of their time ignoring it,” Farmiga said in an interview with News in Film.

Despite her ability to give depth to a character that in another actor's hands might have easily fallen flat, Farmiga seems to prefer the roles she finds in the independent film world.

Farmiga feels the roles written for women in bigger studio films tend to feel watery and not as sharply edged as the ones she sees in independent movies. “They are not renderings of women as I know them,” she told The Guardian.

Partly out of her frustration with the lack of meaty roles for women, she's created her own opportunities. She recently directed and starred in Higher Ground, a story of a woman's struggle with her faith. It played at Sundance earlier this year and will be part of the Tribeca Film Festival.

“Great material always comes my way, but still, given the economy, it’s really few and far between to read those gems. It’s pretty cutthroat for actresses that are vying for those roles. So my manager gave me that advice. He was like, “What are you waiting for? Stop asking for permission,” Farmiga said.

As easy as it would be to compare the trajectory of her career to other female stars who got their first big roles in their late 30s, it seems Farmiga is comfortable with forging her own path. And I'll happily let her. 

__

News in Film: http://www.newsinfilm.com/2011/04/01/interview-vera-farmiga-talks-source-code/

The Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2011/mar/27/vera-farmiga-film-interview

Best Actress Oscar: Body of work or single performance?

There's always much debate and discussion this time of year. It has nothing to do with taxes or college basketball, but rather, the Oscars.

Always hotly contested, the competition for the Best Actress statue has reached a boiling point the last couple years. Last year, it was Team Sandra versus Team Streep. This year, it's Natalie Portman versus Annette Bening. 

I spent this weekend in L.A. with a group of young women, from 22 to 33 years old, and we discussed past Best Actress Oscar winners. The funny thing is, our favorite actresses tend to be about twenty or thirty years our senior.

One of the points that was brought up was: should an Oscar be based on one performance or should it take into consideration the body of work. Typing that out, it seems silly, because Oscars are based on one performance. An Oscar nomination is for one movie, it's not a lifetime achievement award. Sometimes it's hard to remember that, though, when you take into consideration things like: Charlize Theron: one Oscar, Laura Linney: zero Oscars. Halle Berry: one Oscar, Patricia Clarkson: zero Oscars. Meryl Streep: a zillion nominations, only two Oscars. 

So even though the nomination is based on one performance, it's hard to feel celebratory when some of the greatest actresses of their generation are getting passed over for younger actresses who have, let's face it, pretty flimsy bodies of work.

As my sister said, she finds it hard to love young actresses. Why is that? Hollywood certainly loves them. They're constantly getting cast in the next big thing. 

Maybe it's like the Lady Gaga versus Madonna argument. You cannot claim Lady Gaga is the new Madonna until she's been around for thirty years and reinvented herself umpteen times. Only then I will concede that yes, she is. 

Can you claim that someone is a great actress because she gave an amazing performance in The Blind Side? Have we forgotten she was in The Lake House? Speed 2? Hope Floats? Sorry, Sandy.

On the other hand, the argument for actresses like Sandra Bullock and Reese Witherspoon and Charlize Theron would be if only those actresses who have a deep body of work were nominated and won an Oscar every year, it would be a pretty small pool. And Meryl Streep, as much as I love her, doesn't really need fifteen Oscars.

So on Sunday, I'll just try to forget about Annette Bening's performances in American Beauty and Being Julia. Although, in my mind, the swan queen will never outrank singing Joni Mitchell at the dinner table.

I won't be a chauffeur forever.

I've always rolled my eyes when an awards ceremony gets to the miniseries/TV movie portion. I'm not sure I could tell you the last quality miniseries or TV movie I watched, much less genuinely enjoyed. (And yes, I'm including HBO in that. John Adams? I love Laura Linney, but boring.)

So as always, the British are proving they're better at the genre than us Americans.

Recently, PBS Masterpiece aired Downton Abbey, a seven part series that aired on Britain's ITV network last October. The series--which may not be so mini anymore, since it got renewed for another seven episodes--is created by Julian Fellowes, who wrote Gosford Park and Young Victoria.

Downton, much like Gosford Park, explores the lives of servants and aristocrats at a country estate during the Edwardian era. 

Many probably think the Edwardian years are not far removed from the Victorian era, but quite the contrary, the show has several strong female characters, both upstairs and down.

Lady Mary Crawley (Michelle Dockery), the eldest daughter of the family that lives on the estate, does not always follow the path the aristocracy would want her to take. She turns down several potential suitors, seemingly unconcerned with fitting into society's prescriptions. It's not quite clear what Mary is searching for, someone to love her, although even once she has that, she seems to turn away from it. A complicated, but not always likeable character, it'll be interesting to see where the next season will take her.

The youngest daughter, Sybil Crawley (Jessica Brown-Findlay), is a favorite of mine. The Crawley family treats their servants with respect, but Sybil seems to have an even closer bond with one of the maids, Gwen Dawson.

Gwen aspires to become a secretary and when Sybil hears of this, she helps her achieve her goal as much as she can. Gwen is already taking a correspondence course and saves up her wages to buy a typewriter. Sybil drives a horse and buggy in order to accompany Gwen to an interview in town. She also reassures her when Gwen seems to lose hope in her job search.

Sybil is also quite political, a supporter of women's rights, and she attends several meetings with her family's chauffeur, Tom Branson, who wants to be a politician. Sybil expresses an interest in canvassing, but her father forbids her to attend any more of the meetings. Of course, she does, and puts herself and Branson at risk.

Her budding relationship with Branson is very sweet and I look forward to the decisions Sybil will have to make regarding that versus what her family expects of her.

Another miniseries that aired across the pond this year is actually a reboot of an old classic, Upstairs, Downstairs. The new version was just three parts and aired after Christmas on BBC One.

It takes place in 1936, when a diplomat and his wife, Lady Agnes, move into the same townhouse occupied by previous generations of the Upstairs, Downstairs family.

Even with Dame Eileen Atkins and Keeley Hawes in the cast, the shorter series could not provide as much depth into the characters as Downton. The cinematography and 1930s costumes are quite gorgeous, though, and it's worth the three hours. Between it and The King's Speech, I'm quite enthralled with the 1930s right now.

Cool parental units: "I just love my rotten little brats."

One of my favorite shows when I was nine or ten was Clarissa Explains It All. No matter how awesome I thought Clarissa’s hijinxs were—her best friend climbing up to her bedroom window to come visit was especially cool—I couldn’t convince my mother of the show’s greatness. It turns out whatever the show lacked in writing or characterization is not what my mother opposed, rather she hated how Clarissa’s parents were portrayed: as clueless ditzes who had no idea what was going on in their daughter’s life. 

I don’t think my mom was expecting Clarissa’s parents to be the Bradys, but she simply expected parents—even TV parents—to be active in their children’s lives. Over the past few years, I’d say she’s gotten her wish.

Even though the “mom role” is one that some actresses disregard because it is one of the few roles available to women of a certain age, plenty of actresses have shown that these roles are more than just the agreeable wife and/or oblivious mother, they have meat to them.

One of the first in a trend of active parents was Lorelai Gilmore (Lauren Graham) on Gilmore Girls. The show centers on Lorelai and daughter, Rory, who live together in a small town in Connecticut. Their parent-child relationship is more like that of best friends or sisters, since Lorelai had Rory when she was only sixteen.

Although the pilot episode of Gilmore Girls received funding from the Family Friendly Programming Forum, many other family groups complained that the show was portraying teenage pregnancy in a positive light. Quite the opposite, since Lorelai was often encouraging Rory not to make the same mistakes that she had and was active in her daughter’s life, whether it was schoolwork or dating.

An even more realistic and down to earth counterpart to Lorelai Gilmore is Friday Night Lights’ Tami Taylor. Not only is Tami fiercely loyal to her family, but she is committed to bettering the students that she counsels at Dillon High School and later, East Dillon. As guidance counselor, she tries to be open and honest with her students and has been known to take some of them under her wing. One example is Tyra Colette, who Tami sees something in that Tyra’s family and Tyra herself don’t even see. Tami knows Tyra wants to get out of Dillon, so she pushes her to be diligent about her schoolwork and apply to four-year colleges rather than community college. 

Tami is played perfectly by the wonderful Connie Britton. I dare you to watch Tami and not want her to be your mom, your cheerleader, your mentor. This is not even touching on the fabulous parenting and coaching skills of Tami’s husband, Coach Eric Taylor. The two of them are a force to be reckoned with.

Cool parents have also taken up residence on movie screens in recent films featuring teenage protagonists.

In Juno, in which “quirky and quotable” (per Jiminy Glick) high school student Juno MacGuff gets pregnant, her parents, Mac and Bren (played by J.K. Simmons and Allison Janney, respectively) keep cool heads. They’re supportive of their daughter’s decision to put the baby up for adoption. Through her pregnancy and meeting the future adoptive parents of her child, Juno experiences the pressures of adult life, but she is able to talk to her parents, especially her father about these events.

Olive Penderghast (Emma Stone) tells a simple lie in Easy A that rapidly spins out of control at her high school and starts to damage her reputation. Instead of fighting back against the rumor mill, she goes along with it and lets everyone in her high school think she’s sleeping around.

Olive’s parents, Rosemary and Dill (I know, I know—Patricia Clarkson and Stanley Tucci) were the highlights of the movie. They have witty repartee, but most importantly, trust their daughter and let her do her own thing. Even when the circumstances of Olive’s situation become more suspect—such as her wearing clothes to school embroidered with a scarlet A—Olive’s parents simply ask if they need to be concerned and when she tells them no, they let her have her space. There’s also a great scene between Patricia Clarkson and Emma Stone, where Olive is coming clean about the situation to Rosemary.

Back to the small screen, the most recent mom role that is more complex than it first appears is Sarah Braverman on NBC’s Parenthood. Several years after Lorelai Gilmore, Lauren Graham takes on the role of Sarah, a single parent who moves her two teenage kids from Fresno back to her childhood home in Berkeley. Sarah, who works as a bartender and did not finish college, feels outpaced by her siblings Peter and Julia and at times, outparented. However, Sarah’s relationship with her children is my favorite on the show, especially her bond with her daughter, Amber (Mae Whitman).

Amber is not happy about having to start over in a new town and she often rebels against her mother, but at the same time, they seek solace in each other when they most need it. Sarah knows Amber is smart and encourages her to strive for more than she did—namely, a college education. Graham and Whitman give effortless performances and make their mother/daughter bond realistic without being cloying. Their tenuous bond was the heart of the show in its first season and I look forward to seeing it develop even further.

Mad (Wo)Men: "Whatever can be on your mind?"

The close of the fourth season of Mad Men may contain one of my favorite scenes from the series—a scene that did not last much longer than a minute. I’m talking, of course, about the scene between Joan and Peggy after hearing that Don Draper got engaged to his 25-year-old secretary, Megan.

It’s taken four seasons, but the show has finally given us two female characters that I genuinely care about. The journey, at least in my opinion, has been a little rough.

Elisabeth Moss has always been excellent in the role, but I found the character of Peggy painful to watch for the first couple seasons. During her start at Sterling Cooper, she was constantly the butt of jokes by the ad men she worked for, mostly because she was not viewed as being “classically pretty” like the other secretaries.

Although I admired Peggy’s work ethic, allowing her to become the first female copywriter at Sterling Cooper since World War II, I still didn’t understand a lot of the personal decisions she made. Sleeping with Duck Phillips? A little unsure of who she was personally and still finding her way professionally, I found it hard to sympathize with her, but all that has changed in the span of a season.

Peggy has never been hesitant to voice her opinions to Don, but this season it became clear how much Don thinks of Peggy as an equal. The episode, “The Suitcase,” solidified the character of Peggy Olson. She confides to Don that she knows what she’s supposed to want, but how none of it seems as important [to her] as what happens in the office. Peggy, despite her personal choices (after all, we all have foibles), is the 1960s career woman, who continues to fight for equal footing in a man’s world.

I love that Don and Peggy’s relationship took on a more personal tenor this season. Not only will Peggy voice her opinions about work to Don, but she feels comfortable questioning his personal decisions as well. And he’s comfortable enough with Peggy to let her without flying off the handle.

The great thing about Mad Men is a viewer may see a character one way, but later on their actions and choices reveal he or she to be different, perhaps more complex than the audience may have originally observed. This certainly seems to be the case with Joan Holloway (now Harris). In the first season, it’s clear that as the office manager at Sterling Cooper, Joan is the “queen bee” among the women of the office. She seems to be the 1960s version of a “mean girl,” since she often makes fun of Peggy for her prudish wardrobe and lifestyle.

At first it seems that the goal for this ‘Marilyn’ is to marry wealthy so that she can quit Sterling Cooper and become a housewife, but we’ve seen that Joan is not that simple. During the second season, Joan becomes engaged to Greg, a doctor, and it seems she will have the epitome of every girl’s dream. Although Joan is happy with her engagement, she’s afraid that quitting the world of Sterling Cooper will result in her being a bored and lonely housewife. When she offers to help Harry Crane read soap opera scripts to determine ad placement, she finds herself enjoying the work. Hoping that Harry will require her help full-time, Joan is disappointed when a few days later, Harry hires a clueless man to take over her ad placement duties.

This season, as the new firm of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce is on the verge of collapse, Lane Pryce tells Joan that because of her dedication and hard work, the (male) partners have promoted her to Director of Agency Operations. However, because of the firm’s financial troubles, he cannot offer her a salary bump. Joan takes this in stride, but later, alone with Peggy, her fellow in the trenches, complains about how if there was any celebration about her promotion, it must have been “while (she) was pushing the mail cart.” Joan also tells Peggy that she learned a long time ago that she wasn’t going to get satisfaction from her job. Peggy replies, “That’s bullshit!” Whether she is calling Joan on her fib or saying that Don’s engagement is not long for this world, it’s an interesting statement on what these women of 1965 put up with in the work place.

As long as Matt Weiner & Co. keep writing scenes like the one from Sunday night's finale, I'll keep watching.