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That is, St Trinian's 2: The Legend of Fritton's Gold, Very Important Questions...
Q) What is the point of a St Trinian's sequel?
A) The first one made a shedload of money... thus, a sequel was inevitable. No matter how awful it was, or how much the killjoy critics complained about it pooping on the original series.
Q) What is the point of a St Trinian's sequel without Amara Karan?
A) None whatsoever, as far as I'm concerned... but then I'm not the target audience. I'd be curious to know whether she was offered a role though, and turned it down. I hesitate to even bring up the subject of diversity, now that their cast is even whiter and blonder than before...
Q) What the hell happened to Amara Karan's career?
A) Don't ask me! She clearly has the talent, beauty and charm to be a big star, but in two years she's gone from a lead role in Darjeeling to... er... short student film obscurity? Are we living in a counter-clock universe?
Q) Showbiz is constantly swallowing up and spitting out young actresses. Fame, like Life itself, is fleeting and illusory... so, why get het up about such things?
A) I don't know. Sorry.
Recently Hedwig and the Angry Inch was inducted into the AV Club’s “New Cult Canon”, prompting me to revisit it. I first “discovered” the film on a video tape I picked up on impulse from a charity shop, a couple of years ago. I vaguely remembered the film getting good reviews when it came out, and seeing a big glossy book about it when I was in SF one summer, but other than that all I had to go on was the blurb on the back of the box. The film kicks straight in with a punky little number called “Tear Me Down”, sung by what appears to be a drag queen dressed as the Berlin Wall, in the cosy setting of a family-friendly chain restaurant. Needless to say, it was a bit of a “WTF!?” moment, and I was hooked immediately. I couldn’t help wishing that all rock bands had the wit and visual flair of the fictional band rocking out on the screen in front of me, and that all lead singers could share even a tenth of Hedwig’s showmanship.
Still, there was something about the back-up singer with the beard and bandana that was troubling me... I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something slightly odd about him. As the film wound on, it became more obvious... he wasn’t a “he” at all, but a woman in drag... a woman named Miriam Shor, in fact. Apparently she’s been a part of Hedwig since it was a way-off-Broadway theatre piece, which explains why the three leads had such a tight act worked out. It’s just a joy to watch the performance scenes... scattered as they are through a tragicomic story that follows the rise of a young “girly boy” named Hedwig from the stark poverty of Communist East Germany to dime-store decadence and gossip-rag infamy in America. Serving as writer, director and lead actor, John Cameron Mitchell presents us with a profoundly sympathetic protagonist, especially for those on the margins of the mainstream, but it’s hard to stomach the way he bullies the benign, heartsick Yitzhak. I’m glad I upgraded from my old VHS copy to the DVD, because (among many other fascinating and illuminating extras) it features a deleted scene depicting the first meeting between their characters, and how within seconds of being introduced, Hedwig had humbled and housebroken his biggest fan. Shame, shame, shame.
It confused me a little to read the AV Club’s critic define Yitzhak’s ambition to join a cruise-ship production of Rent as a desire to escape into "comforting mediocrity". I’m not quite as avid a fan of Rent as I once was, but it’s hardly the toothless Disney cartoon that their writer makes it out to be. “Sodomy, it’s between God and me!” is not a line you’re likely to hear in the next Hannah Montana movie, is it? Or perhaps I’m just too easily shocked/impressed? No doubt if I’d been born and raised in a city with its own drag clubs and avant-garde art-punk scene, I’d be a little more jaded about such things. And I admit, if forced to choose between the two, I’d probably plump for Hedwig, because the grinding tragedy of Rent is a lot harder to take seriously post-Team America... but this small-town hick will still remember it as an exceptionally powerful piece of musical theatre. And you can take my signed programme when you pry it out of my cold, dead hand!
Huzzah! Even though Griffin's latest pilot, New Town, wasn't given a full series by the BBC, it did pick up a brace of nominations for the BAFTA Scotland awards, and last night took two of the shiny mask thingies home! One for "Best TV Drama", and one for "Best Female TV actor" (Daniela Nardini)... apparently one of its younger cast members, Rose Leslie, also picked up a New Talent Award for her role, earlier this year. So... yay!!! Note: Awards only matter when they go to the right people. :)
Another one from the vaults... I first saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show in the early years of adolescence, when it was first broadcast on TV, and it’s been a favourite of mine ever since. I’m not going to pretend that I understood all of the jokes and references... in fact, I’m not sure I understand them all now either, even after multiple viewings... but that was always part of its appeal. Growing up in a small grey town, it was an all-singing, all-dancing window into an alien world... a more colourful, more passionate, more fantastical world. As a drama student and wannabe writer, I ate it up with a spoon. In later years, at university, I would share a classroom with students who insisted that all fiction should be “naturalistic”, and consist of abusive alcoholics shouting at each other in dingy squats... which just strikes me as a waste of good celluloid/video. I’ve always preferred directors who toyed with reality, or ignored it altogether in favour of their own nightmares and dreamscapes. Leave the kitchen-sink stuff to TV, and embrace the phantasmagoria, dammit!
RHPS has its flaws, of course, no doubt about that... giving Dr Scott a wacky German accent actually undermines a pretty good scripted gag, for instance... but plenty good jokes survive, and ultimately the songs take the curse off any draggy plot elements (no pun intended). Richard O’Brien’s wordplay is always a joy, no matter how the original arrangements age. I strongly recommend checking out his contributions to The Return of Captain Invincible... if only to witness Christopher Lee’s evil mastermind, Dr Midnight, tempting Alan Arkin’s recovering-alcoholic superhero with a wet-bar, via the medium of music! “If you don’t name your poison, I’ll have to get the boys in, and you’ll never see another tequila sunrise...” Genius. The songs in RHPS remain rock solid, no matter how many punks take a swipe at them, and how many other languages they’re translated into. It’s a crying shame that O’Brien was so naive about selling the film rights to his stage-show, and ended up earning bugger all from the midnight screenings that confirmed its cult status, and the mountain of merchandising that continues to pile up on our shelves.
Speaking of which, the only piece of merchandising I own, aside from the published screenplay, is a figurine of Columbia, modelled after Little Nell. Obviously there are a number of very attractive women in RHPS, and Susan Sarandon was arguably the star... but for me, Little Nell was always the focal point. Frankly its hard to miss her in the gold sequin top-hat and jacket, tippety-tapping her way across the ballroom, but she’s also the most fun and exuberant character, besides having a voice that can cut through your ears like cheese-wire. And I mean that as compliment. I was delighted to discover that her solo singles were included in the boxset of CDs, but was sad to see how little material she actually recorded. If only she’d released a full album, at the very least! I could listen to her sing all day, and never get bored... someday I hope a mad scientist will create a machine that allows me to apply her striking strine to any song I choose.
RHPS was followed by a semi-sequel called Shock Treatment. Hampered by industrial action, the results are “uneven”, to put it kindly. The ratio of jokes to expositional blah is a lot lower, and the plot is far less coherent... but there are some fun performances, and thanks to the DVD player’s skip button, it’s possible to enjoy the musical set-pieces on their own merits... and there’s plenty there to enjoy. Nell gets less exposure (in every sense of the word) as a supporting character called Nurse Ansalong, but she does score a couple of good lines here and there, and another cheeky outfit to dance around in. Incidentally, Jessica Harper, who takes the lead role of Janet, would also be on my shortlist of Singers Who Should Have Sung More Songs. While the threat of a RHPS remake fills me with, well, horror, I wouldn’t mind someone taking another swing at ST. It had such a neat (not to mention prescient) premise, inviting us into a smug, all-American town which had been converted into a TV studio, with the citizens being drawn into life-altering “reality shows” at the whim of a shadowy sponsor. It could have been The Truman Show of its day... but funner!
Ah well, time for bye-byes...
Probably my second schoolboy crush after Kylie Minogue, I was first introduced to Elvira when she guest-presented a late-night heavy metal video show, to help promote the release of her movie Elvira: Mistress of the Dark. And it worked, because I ended up buying a copy on VHS as soon as it came out. Now, I know you’re going to say it was all about the boobs, but there are actually some really great jokes in that flick, which have stuck with me ever since...
Elvira: “And if they ever ask about me, tell them I was more than just a great set of boobs. I was also an incredible pair of legs. And tell them... tell them that I never turned down a friend. I... never turned down a stranger for that matter. And tell them... tell them that when all is said and done, I only ask that people remember me by two simple words. (pause) Any two, as long as they're simple.”
There’s probably nothing to be gained from peering back through the mists of time to analyse the hormonal stew that was brewing back then, but early exposure to Elvira and The Rocky Horror Picture Show, have clearly left a mark on my libido, lumbering me with an unhelpful attraction to theatrical, goth-y women... “unhelpful”, because I’m a square, scruffy geek, and unable to maintain a “style” of any kind, let alone a high-maintenance one like that. Sigh. Naturally, this is a fun time of the year for me, as the whole country sets its phasers to “spooky”, and the pubs are crammed with Elviras, Morticias and Magentas. Hurrah!
I would write more about Peterson herself, and the evolution of the Elvira character, but the AV Club interview that prompted this post sums it all up better than I ever could.
Happy Hallowe’en!
I finally caved and picked up The Aristocrats on DVD... because it was in a bargain bin, and I was curious to see it in again. Although I’d already seen Big S perform a brief, slightly bloodless bit for an Amnesty International charity show, it was her contribution to this feature-length dirty joke that made me fall for her... hard and fast. I was looking forward to hearing what Paul Provenza (the director) and Penn Jillette has to say about my fave comedian on the commentary track, and they didn’t disappoint me, alternately swooning over her, and analysing exactly why she’s such an impressive performer. She doesn’t simply tell the joke, she lives the joke. As Jillette observes, in any other context the quality and commitment she displayed would have earned her an Oscar. And so it goes.
She is, of course, not only an exceptionally gifted woman, but also an exceptionally sexy woman... but her sexuality is simply one of many harp strings, for her to pluck at will. I once suggested that if Roger Rabbit and his wife Jessica had a daughter, she would grow up much like Big S... the goofy, cartoonish energy combined with bona fide “bombshell” sensuality. It’s a killer combo. One should never confuse a performer’s “on screen” persona with their real-life personality, but I get the feeling that talking to her would be something of an emotional rollercoaster with her swinging so wildly and unpredictably between poles... which is what makes her act so interesting and compelling. For someone like me, who’s always looking for approval, it would be a constant cycle of pleasure and pain, between the glares and the smiles. Ah, but it’d be worth it! Oddly this feeds into my current reading of Hermann Hesse’s Steppenwolf. In the novel (to oversimplify horribly), the titular character, a world weary and withered soul, meets an enchanting young woman who shakes up his dry and dusty existence... meeting for their first date, the narrator notes a certain “boyish” aspect to her avatar, and observes, “Of all the things that pleased and charmed me about her, the prettiest and most characteristic was her rapid changes from the deepest seriousness to the drollest merriment, and this without doing herself the least violence, with the facility of a gifted child.” (p 127)
Hesse included a preface in later editions of the book, on the subject of readers misunderstanding his text, so it would be foolish of me to make too many sweeping statements... still, it seems to me that the aim of the strange forces/agents who have taken the narrator’s life to task, is to drag him out of the safe harbour of self-absorption, and set him off on an adventure across the choppy waters of Life, with Humour as his only compass and comfort... “Humour alone (perhaps the most inborn and brilliant achievement of the human spirit) attains to the impossible and brings every aspect of human existence within the rays of its prism. To live in the world as if it were not the world, to respect the law and yet to stand above it, to have possessions as though ‘one possessed nothing’, to renounce as though it were no renunciation, all these favourite and often formulated propositions of an exalted worldly wisdom, it is in the power of humour alone to make efficacious.” (p 67) Later it is observed that “true humour begins when a man ceases to take himself seriously.” (p. 207) Likewise, it would seem to me that the most deplorable kinds of people are generally those who can only laugh at others.
Hesse was heavily influenced by “eastern” philosophy, and name-drops Krishna throughout the novel. I was very fortunate to have finished reading the Bhagavad Gita shortly before, because it makes a great deal more sense in that light... my spin being that Humour helps us to detach ourselves from the material world, and our petty gripes and concerns, allowing our Soul to stretch its legs a little. The most shocking and surprising jokes might therefore have the greatest effect, similar to the mindf*ck “Magic Theatre” which the novel’s narrator is drawn into. To turn the world on its head, and recast our own dearly held certainties as ridiculous and misbegotten... to dance in the darkest corners of our souls, and spring clean our psyches, so that we might then improve, and enlighten ourselves. Devastation in preparation for something better to come. Assuming that one happens to believe in reincarnation, or second-chances, of course. “Well, you will do better the next time.” (p 252)
I haven’t really said very much about Silverman at all, have I? But there isn’t really anything I can say to describe how I felt the first time I watched Jesus is Magic, or to convince the doubters/haters of her talent. As far as I’m concerned she’s the gold standard of Comedy... or, to put it another way, the greatest mother-trucker alive. Bless her.
These days, you’d probably have to pay a king’s ransom to get Billy Boyd, Julia Davis, Omid Djalili, Ben Miller and David Walliams in a production together, but back in 1999 they all appeared in a three part comedy for Ch4 called Coming Soon, by the writer/director (auteur?) Annie Griffin.
The story follows a rather self-involved, and self-important “devised theatre” group who spurn the tyranny of the scripted word in favour of trust exercises and endless workshopping. Their disdain for writers is both vocal and unequivocal... as they follow the example of their improvisatory idol (Julia Roth, ironically played by Griffin herself) and prize the process over the production. They do, however, still require funding, and are forced to recruit a famous Scottish singer looking to break into movies, in order to qualify for a grant offered in honour of cross-border co-operation between England and her homeland. Needless to say, her populist appeal rubs the pretentious “artistes” up the wrong way, and gradually threatens to undermine the entire enterprise. To be fair though, it wasn’t the sturdiest of ships to begin with, as all the founding members of the group have their own selfish idiosyncrasies and agendas, especially when it comes to recruiting (and grooming) new cast members.
On the DVD commentary for her later sitcom The Book Group, Griffin stated the belief that characters don’t have to be especially sympathetic for the audience to want to follow their story. I’d agree, with the proviso that it depends on how well the characters are written and played. Vikki Pepperdine’s “Jen” is a classic example... as the group’s director she spends the majority of her time being unapologetically arrogant, antagonistic and verbally abusive, and yet there’s something so endearing about her obliviousness, that when she finally does crack, you can’t help but care. Her utter conviction in the face of total apathy from audiences (and the world in general), is equal parts admirable and absurd.
Julia Davis’ character (Kim) spends most of the series off in her own little world, as one of the naive new recruits to the group. At first she just seems shy and gawky, but we soon realise that she may be a teeny bit “f*cked”, as Elaine C Smith so delicately puts it, during a somewhat one-sided “co-counselling” session. It’s a role that really plays to Davis’ strengths, as she works through different accents and personas, dances crazy, and unleashes her inner demons.
Still, for me the stand-out has to be Mabel Aitken, in her largest role to date, as Fiona, the relentlessly perky Scottish fiancée of Walliams’ sleazy suit, and cofounder of the Trans-Ecosse scheme which is funding the folly. Not only does Fiona manage to keep smiling through Jen’s glowering rebukes, she openly admires her moxie, and even offers to set her up on a blind date with her brother! Bless. In many ways, she is my ideal woman... a cute suit, who’s organised and ambitious, but tolerant of the so-called “artistic temperament”. We might have to have words about the whole “getting drunk and dancing topless on tables” thing, but other than that she’s a darling...
I’ve long since given up trying to figure out why certain actors/shows/films/bands become popular, while others are left to sink sadly into obscurity. I think Griffin’s writing is incredibly smart, sharp, and savagely satirical... but at the same time, there’s something very humane about the way in which she exposes and indulges her characters' follies and failures. In this case, she even allows her characters a “happy ending” to be going on with, even if they aren’t all where they wanted to be at the start of the run. In a contemporary review from the Guardian, the critic suggests that potential viewers may have been turned off by the setting and focus of the series... I guess it’s the reverse Office-effect, in that almost everyone has worked in an office environment at some point, and can more easily relate to the premise than they can to a show about a cliquey, close-knit theatre group... and maybe I’m biased by the fact that I’m an arty-type myself, but I’d still maintain that the performances and jokes are funny enough to warrant a wider audience, regardless.
Some kind soul has uploaded a taster session with the Le Jeu Theatre Company to YouTube, viewable here. Warning: Clip may contain strong swearing and smugness.
Apparently in America, the sitcom Seinfeld was a big hit... one of the most influential and critically acclaimed comedies of the 90s... while over here, the BBC chose to bury it in a graveyard slot, with minimal promotion, so it never caught on in quite the same way. I remember sitting up until midnight, with the TV turned down as low as it could go, trying to enjoy the show without waking my parents. Good times. Now, thankfully, the entire run is available on DVD and all the extra features crossed the pond with them. Last month I managed to find the Season 9 boxset on sale, and have been working my way through it. After such a long gap, it wasn’t the best place to start, since the final four episodes of the run are filled with callbacks to episodes I haven’t seen or can’t remember. Still, the other 22 are very funny in themselves, and fantastically bizarre. I understand that some people objected to the direction the series took after Larry David left, turning away from the reality-rooted focus on social minutiae and awkwardness that is his calling card. Maybe they’re right... as I say, I can’t remember much about the early seasons... but that doesn’t stop me hailing “The Merv Griffin Show” episode as a work of genius, with Kramer dragging the other characters into his own delusions via a reclaimed TV chat show set. Love it.
Even back then, I was drawing little cartoons of Elaine on the labels of my home-made video tapes... inspired by how cute she looked in episodes like “The Strike” and “The Burning”, pouting with disappointment over the possibility of losing a hard-earned sub sandwich, or burning for all eternity in Hell. I’ve now learned that I’ve been mispronouncing Louis-Dreyfus’ name all this time (it’s “dry-fus”... not “dray-fus”), but there’s no mistaking the brilliance of her performance, as she slips from eye-rolling snark to energetic slapstick. I was glad to learn that she’s had a successful post-Seinfeld career, in her own award-winning sitcom, The New Adventures of Old Christine. Hurrah! Why the same hasn’t happened for Jason Alexander, I can’t really say... clearly he isn’t as cute as his co-star, but come on... the guy does impotent rage better than anyone out there. Michael Richards rather shot himself in the foot with his ill-advised foray into stand-up... but he’s still a master of physical comedy, and gives some of the most memorable line-readings.
What’s most interesting about the show, as I take another crack at my copy of the Bhagavad Gita (an ancient Hindu scripture concerned with religious duty and spiritual advancement), is that the characters' daily lives are a textbook demonstration of the wrong way to go about accruing karma and achieving enlightenment. As Ranchor Prime notes in his commentary: “When the soul’s eternal love is directed towards the Lord’s creation instead of to the Lord himself it is transmuted into kama, or material desire. This kama, when frustrated, produces anger... So long as we are under the control of material desire we will have to gratify the demands of the mind and the senses, and we may feel some happiness in return. But the happiness is limited and temporary, and is the enemy of the true self because it leads to frustration... Thus, in the material world the living entity is bound by the golden shackles of kama, particularly in the form of sexual desire. No amount of gratification will satisfy kama, just as no amount of fuel added to a fire will extinguish it.” (p.35)
Jerry will never stop “dating” and settle down... and George will never stop lying on dirty floors, to root around under the vending machine for lost change... they are damned and damaged souls. If one were feeling preachy, one might suggest that they’d been in a prison of sorts since the very first episode... and it’s only in the final episode that the walls and bars manifest, as they sit having the very same conversation they had in the pilot, caught in an endless loop of pettiness. “The Burning” is a particularly telling episode, as Elaine discovers that her boyfriend David Puddy (played by the burly brickhouse of comedy that is Patrick Warburton) listens to Christian rock... and she becomes concerned that he might actually believe in something beyond the material, because she’d much rather assume he simply couldn’t be bothered to change the station:
Jerry: So you prefer dumb and lazy to religious?
Elaine: Dumb and lazy I understand.
And that’s the problem I’m having in my own stumble towards “the light”. I have an inherent knee-jerk reaction where religion is concerned, after years of being bullied and demeaned by religious-types at school... or rather, by teachers and "friends" who packaged their bullying in piety. It’s easy to flick on the TV and see countless characters, real and fictional, encouraging us towards kama... with the boob jobs and the bling... but there aren’t really any role models to lead us down a more spiritual path. Well, there was John Locke for a little while, but other than that, I can’t think of anyone. Is it even possible to write an “enlightened” sitcom, without coming off like one of those creepy, preachy “Chick tracts”? That is, I think, the biggest hurdle that modern peeps face when contemplating a move towards more spiritual goals... the fear that they’ll become a judgemental nutjob. Of course, many would say that you’re a nutjob just for thinking there might be a God (or Gods) to begin with, so I guess it’s a sliding scale.
aka Mahatma Gandhi (Sanskrit: महात्मा mahātmā — "Great Soul") Missed his B-Day yesterday, but here are some wise words to chew over... "The seven blunders that human society commits and cause all the violence: wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, and politics without principles." "To call woman the weaker sex is a libel; it is man's injustice to woman. If by strength is meant brute strength, then, indeed, is woman less brute than man. If by strength is meant moral power, then woman is immeasurably man's superior. Has she not greater intuition, is she not more self-sacrificing, has she not greater powers of endurance, has she not greater courage? Without her, man could not be. If nonviolence is the law of our being, the future is with woman. Who can make a more effective appeal to the heart than woman?" "I came to the conclusion long ago… that all religions were true and also that all had some error in them, and whilst I hold by my own, I should hold others as dear as Hinduism. So we can only pray, if we are Hindus, not that a Christian should become a Hindu… But our innermost prayer should be a Hindu should be a better Hindu, a Muslim a better Muslim, a Christian a better Christian." "Religions are different roads converging to the same point. What does it matter that we take different roads, so long as we reach the same goal. Wherein is the cause for quarrelling?"
In a former life, the Sri Lankan/Brit known as Amara Karunakaran earned a 2:1 in Politics, Philosophy and Economics from Oxford University and spent two years working in mergers and acquisitions in the City. She’d always loved acting though, and the move away from school/college productions into the real, theatre-free world of high finance convinced her that she was on the wrong path. After quitting her day job, and making her mother cry, she entered drama school, graduated, wrote/directed a short film, and promptly thereafter scored a leading role in Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited. According to an interview for ReDiff: "For someone like me, who is just starting her career, this was heavenly... In terms of what is expected of Indian actresses, my role may surprise some people, but that is what I like about this character. She lives outside the box but she is not a shallow character. She too has feelings and she is hurt in the end by the whirlwind affair with a stranger... It was fun and challenging to play Rita, but it was also important to me that the role doesn't fit any cliché."
In the same interview Karan enthuses over her then forthcoming turn in the St Trinian's reboot: “I thought Darjeeling Limited was a gift from the gods, but this film was an even bigger gift because I play a character called Peaches. Here am I, of South Asian origin, playing a colour-blind role. That itself was a stimulating challenge." I’ve never met the woman, but she comes across in the video interviews I’ve seen as terribly chirpy and charming... very genteel... I’m not sure there are many people who could get away with speaking so highly of such a minor role, and make you actually want to believe the hype... but somehow, she does. Apparently she’s rocking some sort of anti-snark shield... she’s simply too darn adorable to mock.
Unfortunately, that appears to be where her film career faltered... she isn’t even listed as a cast member for the St Trinian's sequel... although cinema isn’t the be-all-and-end-all of acting, and she trod the boards in several plays (including a turn as Michelle Gomez’s sister, in an RSC production of The Taming of the Shrew). She’s also inspired a central character in the comic book I’m writing... so let’s hope that gets picked up and adapted into a movie and/or TV series, so that she can claim the lead role she so richly deserves!
