July Digital Week III

Blu-rays of the Week

Black Narcissus (Criterion)
The Red Shoes (Criterion)

Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger—who teamed for several of the most memorable movies of the 1940s from I Know Where I'm Going and A Matter of Life and Death to The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp—reached their career peaks with 1947's Black Narcissus and 1948's The Red Shoes, two of the most ravishing color films ever made, thanks to the incomparable Jack Cardiff's cinematography. Black Narcissus, which takes place in a Himalayan convent, is the subtlest of horror films, while the ballet-set The Red Shoes is a glorious portrait of artists working together. Criterion's new Blu-ray releases come from a recent restoration, and the results are so spectacular that you may find yourself freeze-framing constantly during each film to savor the results. That's fine; works of art like these two films deserve to be studied over and over. Of the new extras (the rest come from the original Criterion releases), the best is French director Bertrand Tavernier's insightful comments about Powell's style on the Black Narcissus disc and an interview with Powell's widow, Thelma Schoonmaker, on the Red Shoes disc.

DVDs of the Week

The Art of the Steal (IFC)

Don Argott’s documentary about how the Barnes Foundation—which owns arguably the world’s greatest collection of post-Impressionist and modern-art paintings—has been torn down systematically since the death of its founder, Albert Barnes, in 1951, is an impressive cultural detective yarn with heroes and villains galore. What could have been a dry, academic exercise about art experts and politicians fighting over a collection worth billions becomes in Argott’s sensitive hands an intelligent exploration of the complex clashes between art and commerce, politicians and their constituents, foundations and trusts, and the law and what’s right. Argott crams a wealth of information, insight and analysis into 105 minutes—it’s obvious that he sides with those trying to preserve Barnes’ wishes and legacy, but allows the other side its story, however selfishly (but profitably) motivated. While it’s unfortunate that IFC didn’t include any supplements—additional interviews, updates, director commentary—Argott’s film is persuasively argued enough to stand on its own.

The Most Dangerous Man in America (First Run)
For their study of how Daniel Ellsberg became Nixon’s Public Enemy No. 1 after leaking the Pentagon Papers to The New York Times, directors Judith Erlich and Rick Goldsmith have made a standard talking-heads documentary dressed up by canny use of archival material such as photographs, video footage and priceless snippets from the Nixon tapes, particularly when the president laments (in his view) Ellsberg’s treason and the press aiding and abetting it. (And we thought that this kind of White House paranoia and name-calling began after September 11!) The filmmakers’ ace in the hole is Ellsberg himself, who narrates the film. The filmmakers also interview his wife Patricia, former Rand colleagues and journalists; even Nixon administration honcho John Dean chimes in. Why so many documentaries now show re-enactments of pivotal events (i.e., when Ellsberg and his children are nearly busted by L.A. police while copying classified materials) is mystifying; shoehorned in here, they threaten to drag the film down to the level of a melodramatic History Channel program. However, The Most Dangerous Man in America is a movie that all Americans should see: its hero is the real definition of patriotism. Extras include interviews with Woody Harrelson and Naomi Klein, and audio highlights from the Nixon tapes.

CDs of the Week
Billy Squier: Don’t Say No—30th Anniversary Edition (Shout Factory)
Billy Squier may have made better albums—Emotions in Motion, Signs of Life—but Don't Say No was both his breakout record and his biggest-seller, so it's a no-brainer that this 1981 recording gets the “special” treatment ahead of his later albums. (Actually, it's only the 29th anniversary, but why quibble?) Any record that opens with the 1-2-3 punch of “In the Dark,” “The Stroke” and “My Kinda Lover” is destined for cock-rock greatness; throw in “Lonely Is the Night,” “Too Daze Gone,” and “Whaddya Want from Me,” and you've got a guitar record for the ages. Squier has since been unfairly lumped into the “crappy 80s music” bin, but at his best, he combined energy, irresistible hooks and a versatile verbal facility into a hard-rocking package that has unfortunately gone completely out of fashion. Shout Factory's re-issue amps up Mack & Billy's original spacious production, and tacks on live cuts of “My Kinda Lover” and “The Stroke” from two 2009 concerts.

Leoncavallo: I Medici (Deutsche Grammophon)
That he's only known for his tragic first opera, I Pagliacci, makes Italian composer Ruggero Leoncavallo a one-hit wonder. But this splendid, first-ever recording of Leoncavallo's second opera, I Medici, gives us a chance to hear a more obscure work in the signature verismo style which he helped make famous, this time attached to the gruesome true story of the Pazzi Conspiracy, an assassination plot against the Medicis, rulers of Tuscany in the 15th century, which claimed the life of Giuliano, brother of co-ruler Lorenzo (who was merely wounded). Leoncavallo's libretto is filled with melodramatic excess, particularly in the tragically romantic subplots that include adultery and an illegitimate child. But his music is sufficiently dramatic to keep us interested until the bloody end, in which the legacy of the Medicis is cemented with a promise from Lorenzo to his dying brother. Alberto Veronesi conducts the Orchestra and Chorus of Florence's Maggio Musicale in an authoritative reading, along with an arresting cast of singers led by Placido Domingo (Giuliano), Carlos Alvarez (Lorenzo), Eric Owens (conspirator Monteseco) and Daniela Dessi (Giuliano's beloved, Simonetta).

July Blu-ray Roundup

Accidents Happen (Image) – Geena Davis is forcefully funny as a mother who blames her daughter’s death and son’s breakdown on her husband in a movie that finds absurdist humor in tragedy but ends up forced and, finally, pointless. Director Andrew Lancaster opens the movie with a striking sequence that visualizes the title, but after setting up a premise of life and death as a series of accidents, Brian Carbee's screenplay spins its wheels until the downer ending. Young Aussie actor Harrison Gilbertson is thoroughly believable (and Americanized) as a surviving teenage son who makes his way through this difficult world. Image's disc includes a first-rate hi-def transfer, cast and crew interviews and deleted scenes. The Bounty Hunter (Sony) – Jennifer Aniston can't get out of her script-choosing rut. Like her last few movies (He's Just Not That into You, Management, The Break Up), The Bounty Hunter is another high-concept comedy that goes nowhere fast. It's too bad that a game Aniston and Gerard Butler get few chances to show any chemistry, especially when he (the title character) tosses her (his ex-wife) into the trunk of his car (it’s his job to bring her in). They're supposed to hate each other cutely, then less insistently as they spend time together, but they end up irritating each other and us by the time the underwhelming movie ends. At least it all looks terrific on Blu-ray (especially Aniston); extras include behind-the-scenes featurettes. Brooklyn’s Finest (Image) – This familiar story of cops on the beat (and undercover) in Brooklyn's most dangerous precinct showcases a fine cast: Don Cheadle, Ethan Hawke, Richard Gere, Wesley Snipes and Brian F. O'Byrne, with kudos to Shannon Kane for a remarkable, scene-stealing performance as a high-class hooker with a heart of gold. Director Antoine Fuqua and writer Michael C. Martin smartly use gritty locales but are tripped up by their by-the-numbers plot that resolves itself in unbelievable—and bloody—fashion. Shot entirely on location, Brooklyn's Finest rings true on Blu-ray, as the city streets give it authenticity it otherwise lacks. Extras include 30 minutes of deleted scenes, 30 minutes of on-set featurettes, along with Fuqua’s commentary. Cop Out (Warners) – Kevin Smith's buddy-cop comedy is as adolescent as his other movies, but without the saving comic grace of Clerks and Dogma. Even Tracy Morgan's stream-of-consciousness lunacy can't save this misbegotten flick, which needs (but never gets) Jay and Silent Bob. Instead, we get crude, witless and dated attempts at “shocking” black humor. Smith's never been a visual stylist, and even if the movie looks splendid on Blu, it's never going to be a disc you show off to friends. Smith is, however, an engaging guy, and the extras—which include his commentary, on-set featurettes and many deleted scenes—come off best, as they always do on a Kevin Smith release. The Eclipse (Magnolia) – Irish playwright Conor McPherson’s ghostly love story is similar to his ghostly plays in its reliance on well-worn and cheap shock effects. Otherwise, this elegantly photographed, beautifully scored and well-acted drama could stand on its own as a lovely miniature if McPherson’s bad habits didn’t keep cropping up. Take away the blatant horror-movie tropes and you’re left with first-rate performances by Ciaran Hinds, Iben Hjejle and Aidan Quinn and the always photographable landscapes of Ireland, rendered so attractively on Blu-ray that you’ll want to turn the film off and catch the first AerLingus flight across the pond. Extras comprise two making-of featurettes. Home (Lorber) – Ursula Meier's unsettling character study shows a French family, happily living near a deserted highway, whose contented lifestyle is disrupted when the road once again carries a lot of traffic. Shrewdly, Meier develops the various relationships to show how they subtly shift in response to how the world around them has changed after remaining stagnant for so long. Agnes Godard’s customarily excellent cinematography retains its luster on the terrific Blu-ray transfer: Godard's luminous lighting and ingenious camera setups are themselves worth catching the movie. Extras include Meier’s half-hour short, Sleepless, and an interview with Meier and Godard. Hot Tub Time Machine (Fox) – Rob Corddry—a comic genius, as anyone who saw him on The Daily Show can attest—is the sole reason to watch this monumentally goofy comedy about buddies who find themselves back in 1986. While the other guys deal with bad hair and worse music, Corddry's character looks to maximize his own time-traveling by inventing sure-fire things that didn't actually appear until years later, like a version of Google. But it's Corddry's persona of the annoying jerk-off that gets all the laughs, shaming the likes of costars John Cusack, Craig Robinson and Clark Duke. Fox's disc showcases a sharp hi-def transfer and extras led by a selection of Corddry outtakes during the movie's raunchiest scene that are funnier than anything in the movie. Insomnia (Warners) – Al Pacino's hangdog looks and unique drawl make him perfect as a celebrated detective from the lower 48 who comes to Alaska to solve a murder but falls victim to the notoriously endless summer nights. Christopher Nolan's least obnoxious movie builds a real sense of uncertainty and dread out of Alaska’s perpetual daylight (even though it was shot in Vancouver, with only 2nd-unit filming up north), and the cast, from Hilary Swank, Paul Dooley and Martin Donovan as fellow cops to Robin Williams as the probable suspect, provides sturdy support. The Blu-ray transfer preserves the movie's creatively desaturated lighting; extras include a discussion between Pacino and Nolan, featurettes, commentaries (including one by Nolan) and one deleted scene. Jason and the Argonauts (Sony) – Even though Ray Harryhausen's stop-motion animation is woefully dated, in some ways his obviously fake miniatures and models are preferable to the over-hyped computerized effects of today’s bloated blockbusters. This 1963 fantasy epic based on Greek mythology brings more of Harryhausen's patented gods and monsters to the screen in a colorful but stiffly acted venture. Sony's Blu-ray not only enlivens the images in their bright colors and sharp detail, but it also shows off the bad effects shots in their not-quite-glory. A nice assortment of extras includes two tributes to Harryhausen's storied career, an interview with the effects wiz by John Landis and two commentaries (one with Lord of the Rings director Peter Jackson). Multiple Sarcasms (Image) – This is another independent movie set in Manhattan about self-absorbed men and women (with a sympathetic young daughter, for good measure) trying to find meaning in life. There are good, solid actors at its core (Tom Hutton as the protagonist, Dana Delany as his wife, Stockard Channing as his agent, Mira Sorvino as his platonic best friend), but writer-director Brooks Branch too often subjects them to cutesy excesses, like retro musical interludes (“I Am Woman”??) that should have been left on the cutting room floor. Such moments intrude on the truths the cast pulls out of the unsubtle script. The Image disc’s hi-def image gives us a New York City that glows in winter; extras include a making-of featurette and director/cast interviews. Our Family Wedding (Fox) – This unoriginal comedy is buoyed by the amusingly argumentative performances of Forrest Whitaker and Carlos Mencia, who play feuding fathers of two college students who are getting married. Lance Gross and America Ferrara are dull as the engaged couple, so luckily Whitaker and Mencia dominate the movie—although they have trouble breathing fun into what's basically a bad idea for a TV sitcom (not to mention a 100-minute movie). The Blu-ray transfer is good if unspectacular; making-of featurette, deleted/extended scenes and gag reel are the extras. Percy Jackson and the Olympians (Fox) – Based on Rick Riordan’s best-selling book, this tween-friendly adventure might not be as popular as Harry Potter or Twilight, but with its reliance on Greek mythology for characters and plot twists, Percy Jackson comes out way ahead in the “reasonably intelligent adult entertainment” department. Even Chris Columbus—ham-fisted director of the first Harry Potter, among other DOA movies—seems semi-inspired by the material, and the result is enjoyable fluff. The Blu-ray’s superb hi-def transfer makes the movie even more fun to watch at home; relatively meager extras include featurettes, 10 deleted scenes and a quiz. Predator (Fox) – A quarter-century hasn't been kind to John McTiernan's jungle monster movie: it's merely macho silliness dressed up with enough violent sequences and Ahnold one-liners to keep viewers awake. The actual dreadlocked monster, when it’s finally seen after killing off any number of victims, is giggle-inducing, and Schwarzenegger himself doesn't impress with either his brawn or (especially) his acting talent. That Jesse Ventura co-stars surely gives the movie its best reason to exist: as the answer to the trivia question, “Which 80s actioner starred two future governors?” The Blu-ray upgrade gives the movie more immediate visual impact, but that's probably not enough for anybody but the most fanatical Predator fans. Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage (Rounder/Zoe Vision) - Winner of the Audience Award at the Tribeca Film Festival, this is an engrossing portrait of the ultimate “fan's band”: Canadian power trio Rush, which has sold millions of albums, concert tickets and T-shirts but has never gotten critical respect over its 35-year career. Scot McFayden and Sam Dunn's film contains chatty interviews with Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson and Neil Peart, along with their parents and unabashed musician fans like Les Claypool (Primus), Billy Corgan (Smashing Pumpkins), Gene Simmons (Kiss) and Zakk Wylde (Ozzy Osbourne), but why we're subjected to talentless Sebastian Bach of Skid Row over and over again is one of the movie's flaws. As a 105-minute overview of the history of the band, Beyond the Lighted Stage never flags, mainly because of rare home-movie footage of the band's early gigs and the genuine humility of Lee, Lifeson and Peart. Still, much is glossed over or omitted completely—and that's where the 90 minutes of bonus features come in, where we're treated to deleted scenes and additional interviews, including a 12-minute distillation of a four-hour-long Rush dinner that's worth the price of the disc itself. The Blu-ray disc doesn't improve much on the vintage visuals, but the sound is punchier, which is what the fans want anyway. The Secret of the Grain (Criterion) – One of the growing number of contemporary films that are part of the Criterion Collection, Abdellatif Kechiche's absorbing drama concerns an Arab family in France dealing with stricter government controls on immigrants while trying to keep its cherished cultural values in their new home. Kechiche’s writing and directing show an enormous empathy for people he obviously knows well, and his large, unknown cast astonishes with its authenticity, especially Hefsia Herzi as the daughter who takes over the film’s extraordinarily affecting final sequence. The always thorough extras include interviews with Kechiche, actresses Herzi and Bouraouïa Marzouk and the film's musicians, along with Sueur, a re-edited, 40-minute version of the finale. Vengeance Trilogy (Palisades Tartan) – Park Chan-Wook's trio of dark dramas—Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, OldboyLady Vengeance—finally arrives on Blu-ray courtesy of Palisades Tartan. These wildly uneven films are distinguished by their offbeat characterizations and plotlines and undeniably dazzling visuals, which the hi-def upgrade accentuates beautifully. Extras on all three films include Park commentaries, interviews with director and actors, making-of documentaries and deleted scenes, and even an alternate version of Lady Vengeance.

Ken Russellmania

Russellmania!

July 30-August 5, 2010
Walter Reade Theater, 70 Lincoln Center Plaza
(West 65th St between Broadway and Amsterdam)
filmlinc.com

“Russellmania” was never as widespread as “Beatlemania,” but director Ken Russell wouldn’t care. The “bad boy” of British filmmaking began in the 60s with a series of artist biographies about the likes of composer Frederick Delius that only hinted at where his feature-film career would go when he exploded onto the international scene with Women in Love.

The Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Russellmania! is not a complete retrospective of Russell’s films—it only collects nine of his major productions from 1969-77, when he was arguably at his peak, both in prolificness and quality—but Russell’s 80s and 90s output is pretty much diminishing returns anyway, so why not stop here? (Actually, the series should stop before the overwrought 1977 biopic Valentino, in which a fatally miscast Rudolf Nureyev is outclassed by Michelle Phillips, of all people, who looks like she’s about to devour him in their unintentionally funny nude scene.)

If Russell began with the biopic, it was the biopic to which he would return, each more gleefully outrageous and factually inconsistent than the last. The Music Lovers (1970) posits Tchaikovsky as a tormented swish, Savage Messiah (1972) presents a gaudy version of sculptor Henri Gaudier’s life, Mahler (1974) spins incredible yarns about the composer, and Lisztomania (1975) sees Franz Liszt as the first rock star. Sticklers for realism need not apply: part of the fun of these movies is seeing, in every frame, that Russell just doesn’t give a hoot what anyone thinks. So what if he makes up personalities, situations and relationships out of whole cloth and puts them onscreen? These aren’t merely chronological, conventional biographies: this is art! (That’s also debatable, but it gives these movies a sense of adventurousness and danger.)

Russell also made several adaptations, beginning with his D. H. Lawrence film, Women in Love (1969), which won Glenda Jackson a Best Actress Oscar and garnered Russell his only Best Director nomination. If Russell’s take on Lawrence’s homosexual novel was decidedly adult, it again only hinted at what was to come. In 1971, he made two films: the deliberately banal and fluffy musical The Boy Friend, starring the irrepressible Twiggy; and the infamous The Devils, based on John Whiting’s play about Catholic sexual repression in the 17th century, proving that, at the very least, he was eclectic in his choices. (The Devils saga is far from over: the U.S. version—which is what we’re seeing at the Walter Reade, apparently—is several minutes shorter than the uncut British version, and it doesn’t seem as if Warner Brothers is in any hurry to let us see it as Russell originally intended.)

When his psychedelic version of The Who’s rock opera Tommy burst onto the screen in 1975—starring Ann-Margret in an exhilarating, Oscar-nominated performance—it was the closest Russell would get to the mainstream, thanks to top-notch musical numbers by Tina Turner, Elton John and Eric Clapton.

Russell would keep working, going on to make Altered States, Crimes of Passion, Gothic, Salome, The Lair of the White Worm, The Rainbow and Whore—none of which are screaming to be revived. (He’s also continued to make films based on composers’ lives, including one on Arnold Bax: it would be instructive to see how he treats these artists much later in his own career.) So Russell’s reputation, such as it is, rests on the Russellmania! films, which show that, even in his wrongheadedness, Russell could whip up a frenzy of outrage that we sorely need in today’s CGI and dumb-guy dominated movies.

July Digital Week II

Blu-rays of the Week

The Losers (Warner Brothers)

Loud, bombastic action pictures are a dime a dozen, and The Losers, despite clever touches, is no exception: a group of CIA black ops, stuck in Bolivia, finds themselves battling various thugs and underworld criminals while being helped by a femme fatale to end all femme fatales. Sylvain White’s flick has the requisite shootouts and rote violent sequences--including a badly-done CGI explosion that mars the slam-bang finale--but it has, among a mainly interchangeable cast of male actors, the indispensable Zoe Saldana. Freed from her hideous blue colorings in Avatar, the gorgeous Saldana shows enough gumption guts to ignite the fantasies of the James Cameron fan boys. She might actually have the goods to make a female-based action franchise succeed (especially if Angelina Jolie in Salt fizzles out). The Losers gets a top-notch hi-def transfer, good news for a movie about guns and hardware. Extras include the usual bombast about its making and fun with the cast, including a featurette about Saldana joining--and outclassing--the boys’ club.

Steamboat Bill Jr. (Kino)
Arguments about whether Buster Keaton was “greater” than Charlie Chaplin are moot: I would side with Chaplin, but happily, we don’t have to choose. In any case, Keaton’s slapstick films rank among the funniest ever. Although Steamboat Bill Jr. ambles along for 45 minutes, the pay-off sequences late in the movie, in which Keaton is caught in a hurricane and a flood, are so stunning in their sheer audacious hilarity (high winds blow Keaton around and houses crumble around him, all expertly done by the star himself, of course--no stunt doubles or CGI) that you watch the final 20 minutes with your jaw on the floor. Kino’s new hi-definition transfer is the best-looking Steamboat Bill, Jr. I’ve yet seen, although not on the level of their earlier Blu-ray of Keaton’s The General. Extras include an alternate cut of the film, a short retrospective documentary, even two music videos (!!). It’s too bad that, on the back of the box, the illiterate phrase “comprised of” is used not once, but twice.

DVDs of the Week

Entre Nos (IndiePix)
This valentine to co-director/star Paola Mendoza’s mother showcases, without sentimentality, how a new immigrant living in Queens with her husband and two young kids learns to survive after hubby leaves for Miami and a better job and never returns. In this heartwarming drama, Mariana discovers that she can raise her children even in the most difficult of circumstances. Mendoza’s lovely and utterly natural acting makes it very easy to fall in love with this low-key and unassuming movie, even as it smooths over some hardships the family faces. Special features include a directors’ commentary, Mendoza’s short film Still Standing, a behind-the-scenes featurette and another one about making empanadas (the movie will explain!).

A Town Called Panic (Zeitgeist)
This Belgian stop-motion animated feature is, in a word, wacky. The introduction of the denizens of the panicky place in which the movie’s set is gutbustingly funny, as they--to a man (or animal)--are supremely on edge. After the first, transcendently creative half--as the tiny plastic figures are made to do things so insane (and inane) that the filmmakers who actually thought it all up deserve our endless thanks--gags start getting repetitive, jokes get staler and the movie comes apart at the seams, limping to the homestretch. Still, it deserves applause for what it attempts, if not what it achieves, and for doing it in a very original way. Zeitgeist’s disc includes interviews with directors Vincent Patar and Stephane Aubier, deleted scenes, La Fabrique de Panique (a 52-min. making-of doc) and a bizarre short, Obsessive Compulsive, chosen by the directors as the winner of the company’s Stop-Motion Animation Contest to accompany this film on DVD.

CDs of the Week

Tribute to Frederic Chopin by Irena Portenko (Blue Griffin Recording)
Victoria Mushkatkol Plays Bach and Chopin (Fantasy Records)
In this bicentennial year of Frederic Chopin’s birth, it’s only natural that we are getting inundated with many Chopin CD releases. The Polish composer’s reputation rests almost entirely on his solo piano music, even though he wrote concertos and other orchestra works; and it is that formidable array of compositions that these new releases are leaning on, including these excellent new discs by pianists Irena Portenko and Victoria Mushkatkol. Portenko’s disc focuses on two dozen of Chopin’s glorious Etudes, 12 each of Op. 10 and Op. 25. Hearing these short but substantial pieces--most no more than two to three minutes long--might make one think that Chopin was a master of miniatures; even the meatier works Portenko plays on this enticing collection (Etudes, Op. 10, No.3, and Op. 25, No. 7) are less than six minutes long. Mushkatkol’s more substantive two-CD set opens strongly with Bach’s French Overture before settling into Chopin’s larger keyboard pieces, among them several Ballades, scherzos, and mazurkas, along with an opening Barcarole. Both women play Chopin as if their lives depended on it—which, being pianists, they obviously do.

originally posted on filmfestivaltraveler.com

Soprano Takesha Meshé Kizart

Donizetti’s Maria di Rohan
Bel Canto at Caramoor
Orchestra of St. Luke's
Caramoor Opera Chorus
Will Crutchfield, conductor

July 24, 2010
caramoor.org

Every summer, Will Crutchfield brings operatic masterpieces to Katonah—less than an hour north of Manhattan—for his adventurous “Bel Canto at Caramoor” series. This season, amidst several orchestral and chamber performances, the Caramoor Music Festival presents two operas, including a nearly unknown piece by Gaetano Donizetti, who penned such Met-worthy classics as Lucia di Lammermoor and Maria Stuarda.

Maria di Rohan, a romantic tragedy, premiered in 1843 but has barely been performed since. Of Donizetti’s 70-odd operas, it’s one of the least-heard. But Crutchfield has brushed off the score and will present it with the dazzlingly talented, up-and-coming soprano, Takesha Meshé Kizart, in the title role.

Kizart, originally from Chicago, has only been singing professionally for 2-1/2 years, but has already amassed an impressive resume, including a recent Madama Butterfly in Slovenia and Bluebeard’s Castle in Cologne. She debuted at Caramoor in 2008 in Verdi’s La Forza del Destino, and will surely be back for more roles in the future.

The constantly engaging singer sat down to discuss her love of music and her short but burgeoning career recently in Manhattan.

Q: How did you become interested in singing classical music, specifically opera?
A: I’ve been singing my entire life—I came out of the womb singing. I started singing classical music in high school. My music teacher noticed that I had a voice, and she wanted to support me in any way to showcase it. She found my first voice teacher for me. My focus on opera really came when I started at the Academy for Vocal Arts (in Philadelphia). There was something about the focus of the program, and the resources available to me as a young artist—it was a wonderful place to be.

Q: You’re singing an obscure opera by one of the great bel canto composers. How much do you enjoy singing this kind of music, with its florid vocal ornamentation?
A: I love singing bel canto. For me, this is a very natural and organic thing to do. I’ve only been singing full-fledged professionally since January 2008, so everything for me is brand-spanking new, everything is a debut. Making sure you have the style of the composer is the focus, and making sure you do everything you’re supposed to do as a responsible artist. I love the fact that I can get extra high notes in bel canto—that’s always fun. I love, love, love that! I also love the fact that it’s shaped around an individual’s voice: you can create something that’s not just written in the music. The more heroic bel canto operas have more drama and thrust, like early Verdi operas. Some parts of this opera remind me of Verdi’s Un Bello in Maschera and Don Carlo. You can tell that Verdi and Donizetti were friends. Somebody should be suing someone, I think!

Q: What’s the difference between preparing for an obscure role like Maria di Rohan and a famous one like Madama Butterfly?
A: It’s more difficult to prepare for this kind of role. It’s like you’re creating a new role, as I did with Respighi’s opera Maria Victoire—I did just the second production of that opera ever, in Berlin. You can sense that some notes are not written correctly—there are so many misprints in this score that it’s not even funny. It’s exciting but also a little frustrating. I love rehearsing, so the more we rehearse the better I feel about it.

Q: Will Crutchfield resurrects bel canto operas for Caramoor each summer. What’s it like to work with him?
A: Will is amazing—he knows every random detail about these operas known to man. It’s exciting to be with someone who really knows and can guide you—for a young artist striving to be excellent, to be surrounded by someone like him is a blessing. I just wish we had more time to work on it. I’ve been trying to sneak in a few extra high notes, but Will won’t let me do it! (laughs) I loved singing at Caramoor two years ago, and just the opportunity to work with Will again on something no one has heard before—I love doing things like that.

Q: You’re early in what will be a long career, but do you think about what roles and composers you’d like to tackle?
A: Oh my gosh, that’s the most complicated question ever. There are so many roles that are coming that I’ve yet to sing: I want to do the Italian heroines and, of course, sing Strauss. I love singing anything that feels good in my throat. I thank God that there are quite a few composers that do that for me. I’ve been offered Strauss’s Salome already a thousand times, but I still say, “Not yet—give me time!” I did Bluebeard’s Castle in Hungarian in Cologne, which was amazing. It was crazy to sing it in Hungarian, but luckily I’m quick at picking up languages. From the time I was little, I was a human jukebox, and I’ve always been quick at picking up melodies. Someone told me that it will help me with Alzheimer’s later in life, keep my brain power longer. (laughs) I hope so!

July Digital Week I

Blu-rays of the Week

Everlasting Moments (Criterion)

Directed by Jan Troell — who is, at age 78, a true grand master of cinema — Everlasting Moments is both a heartening example of artistry distilled to its very essence and a riposte to the frantic shrillness of empty crowd-pleasers like Avatar and Slumdog Millionaire. With acute insight, Troell paints a loving portrait of an early 20th century woman becoming a photographer in a difficult era for her gender’s place in society. Maria Heiskanen’s subtle, nuanced portrayal creates a headstrong Maria whose picture-taking liberates her from household drudgery, even if she never fully comprehends its meaning in her life. As she takes pictures, Troell moves between comedy and tragedy, the latter in a haunting sequence of a dead girl’s mother requesting photos to remember her by. Once, at the end, Troell uses a freeze-frame to visualize a photo, and this moment—in lesser hands, a mere platitude—has great power and effectiveness. Remarkable, too, is the sepia-soaked cinematography which appears to catch light in half-tones, as it were—the shadows dancing on these very human faces provide a visual wonderment that can’t be reproduced by any other director. Criterion’s Blu-ray transfer preserves the excess grain and muted color palette of the original 16mm shoot, a miracle in itself. Extras include cast and crew interviews, an hour-long documentary about Troell’s underrated career, and a nine-minute featurette showing Maria‘s real photos.

The White Ribbon (Sony)

Michael Haneke’s 145-minute melodrama about the roots of fascism is, like all his films, meticulously shot and impeccably acted: it’s also written and directed by a world-class sadist. That’s not necessarily a criticism because, as one of today’s most talented cinematic provocateurs, Haneke makes intelligently disturbing movies. The White Ribbon is of a piece with his earlier work, showing how a German village on the eve of World War I becomes prey to unexplainable atrocities, from injuring the local doctor (and killing his horse) to blinding a retarded boy. As usual for Haneke, the quite horrific sadism is primarily psychological, but from the director of Benny’s Video, Funny Games, and Cache, we expect that. Still, it’s a spellbinding allegory about instilling the roots of the Third Reich in children who would grow up to yell “Heil Hitler!” The White Ribbon is photographed in immaculate black and white, recreated brilliantly on Blu-ray: indeed, this may be the best-looking hi-def transfer yet. Extras include a Haneke interview, footage from the film’s Cannes premiere and a thorough, involving making-of documentary.

DVDs of the Week

The Greatest (E1)

Carey Mulligan again paints an indelible portrait as memorable as her Oscar-nominated turn in An Education: she plays Rose, a young woman who insinuates herself into the grieving family of her boyfriend, who was killed in a freak accident that left her — and their unborn child — alone. Mulligan’s incisive, thought-through characterization gives this well-acted soap opera the charge it needs to overcome its mawkishness. Pierce Brosnan and Susan Sarandon give intelligent performances as the parents reacting to their son’s surviving girlfriend and carrier of their grandchild, and Johnny Simmons is exceptionally good as their younger son. But it’s Mulligan who is the backbone of Shana Feste’s well-intentioned but frustratingly uneven exploration of grief and its aftermath. Extras include brief interviews with Feste and her cast.

Jennie: Lady Randolph Churchill (Acorn Media)
Originally broadcast on PBS in 1975, Jennie is a supremely entertaining British mini-series about the life of Winston Churchill’s American-born mother, who is fabulously embodied by a luminous Lee Remick. Writer Julian Mitchell drew on the Churchill family’s private letters and papers, and the result — while not completely melodrama free—is a fascinating portrait of a unique and quintessentially American woman, whom Remick plays with wit, flair and stylishness. The supporting cast of Jennie comprises top-notch British actors—including Warren Clarke, Christopher Cazenove, Siân Phillips and Jeremy Brett—who perfectly complement Remick’s winning portrayal. Presented on four discs, the seven-hour mini-series is another winner from Acorn Media, which happily seems to be releasing every storied and obscure British television program in existence.

CDs of the Week

The Excursions of Mr. Broucek (Supraphon)

Several towering tragedies by the great Czech opera composer Leos Janácek (Jenufa, Kata Kabanova, The Makropulos Case) are regularly performed at the Metropolitan Opera, and his delightful The Cunning Little Vixen will be staged by the New York Philharmonic next season. But his experimental comic opera The Excursions of Mr. Broucek is barely known hereabouts, possibly because this Eastern European absurdist work is, for all its musical beauties, seriously disjointed, since its protagonist journeys to the moon in Act I and back in time to the 15th century in Act II. Happily, a recording this good (from 1962, with superb Czech singers and players) allows the listener to bypass the clunky libretto and concentrate on Janácek’s mesmerizing way of creating compelling drama and comedy out of simple musical materials. The Excursions of Mr. Broucek is not Janácek’s best opera by a long shot—not with so many other indisputably fine ones to choose from—but it shows off a great composer’s complete mastery of his medium.

Les Noces/Oedipus Rex (Mariinsky Label)
Russian conductor Valery Gergiev recently led an Igor Stravinsky Festival with the New York Philharmonic, and the concerts were filled with alternately exasperating and revelatory performances of much of Stravinsky’s orchestral and choral output. Although the

players on this recording are Gergiev’s hometown Mariinsky Orchestra and Chorus, the musical outcome is the same.The Russian composer's dance cantata Les Noces (The Wedding), which features the Mariinsky Chorus, soloists and percussionists, contains much impressive banging, while the opera-oratorio Oedipus Rex stars several leather-lunged Russian singers, along with actor Gerard Depardieu speaking the narration in Jean Cocteau’s original French (here in New York, Jeremy Irons intoned E.E. Cummings’ English translation). Gergiev’s patented intensity brings each work to a shattering climax, although neither performance—however beautifully recorded—would be considered truly definitive by Stravinsky aficionados.

originally posted on filmfestivaltraveler.com