The Lobster (2016, R)

The Lobster is this year’s “quirky indie film” entry in the Best Original Screenplay category (see also, Midnight in Paris, In Bruges, Moonrise Kingdom, and so forth.)  There’s usually at least one, although I think this film is quite a bit more out-there than usual.  It’s totally bizarre and more than a little disturbing, but it’s also a fascinating movie with a sensibility that’s all its own.

In the City (solid name for any dystopian locale,) being single isn’t an option.  Anyone who finds themselves without a partner, whether through death or falling out of love, is sent to the Hotel, where they have 45 days in which to find a new partner.  If they fail, they’re transformed into the animal of their choice.  David is one such unfortunate single person, and his time at the Hotel is marked equally by awkwardness, embarrassment, deception, serious head trips, and some farily callous violence.

This is such an intriguing, frakked-up story.  All the little details fascinate me.  How this law affects the animal kingdom – many choose to become dogs and cats, so there are plenty of those, but few pick something rare, which is why those animals are endangered.  The way the singles immediately search for some common ground they can latch onto, particularly a physical characteristic (shortsightedness, a limp, frequent nosebleeds,) apparently not able (or not allowed?) to form an attachment without some arbitrary similarity.  The seeming re-programming conducted by the staff at the Hotel, urging partnership largely as a safety measure – someone to prevent choking, rape, etc. – rather than something that enriches one’s life.  The macabre means by which someone can extend their 45-day time limit.  It goes on and on.

I also really enjoy the dialogue itself and the acting that goes with it.  No details are given on how society became like this, but the same sterile behavior is shown in singles and couples alike.  Everyone speaks in a stilted, highly-factual manner, tending to recite at someone rather than converse with them, and there’s a placidity to everyone’s delivery that belies the absurd minutiae they spout or the sometimes-outrageous things they say (sexual propositions are made as blandly as one would discuss the merits of various brands of toothpaste.)  Really interesting to see how a society that has made “love” compulsory has resulted in people who speak mostly by rote, seem to calculate love rather than feel it, and appear largely detached from their emotions.

Colin Farrell stars as David, who somehow manages to be incurably awkward, relentlessly boring, moderately pathetic, and yet almost entirely rootable all at the same time.  I’m really impressed with his work here as this rather lugubrious dish rag, and bonus points for letting himself look a bit schlubby in the process.  The film also features good work from a bevy of talented actors, including Rachel Weisz, Ben Whishaw (Richard II in The Hollow Crown!), Olivia Colman (Broadchurch,) John C. Reilly, Ashley Jensen (Extras,) and Léa Seydoux (Blue is the Warmest Color.)

Warnings

Disturbing images, language, sexual content/references, and violence.

Top Five Songs: Anyone Can Whistle

I haven’t written about the early Sondheim show Anyone Can Whistle before, probably because it’s super ‘60s and weird, and while I like it, so many his others are better – more melodic, more theatrical, more emotional.  However, there are some incredible songs in it.  There’s not much in theatre that’s quite like Anyone Can Whistle, and for me, this is the best it has to offer.

(Pictures are from both the original Broadway production and the 2010 Encores! cast.)

“There Won’t Be Trumpets” – Fay’s fierce but pragmatic belief in heroes is at the center of this number.  It’s the ultimate “All that is gold does not glitter” song, acknowledging that heroes are made by their deeds, not their fanfare.  Maybe it’s a bit too passive, waiting for someone to swoop in and fix things, but her sheer faith shows a kind of strength on its own, and I like that.

Best line:  “We can wait, what’s another day? / He has lots of hills to climb. / And a hero / Doesn’t come till the nick of time!”

“Simple” – A stunning scene-song, introducing us to the full force of Hapgood’s personality as he separate the sanes from the crazy.  The lyrics are crammed with twisted-logic syllogisms, and the ever-increasing layers of melody nicely parallel the chaos Hapgood is fomenting.

Best line (technically dialogue in the middle of the song, but I like it so much, I’m counting it anyway):  “They threw you out of your pulpit […]”  “Because I believed […] in God – they only believed in religion!”

“Come Play Wiz Me” – Here’s a fun, sexy love song between Hapgood and Fay, the latter of whom has grown considerably bolder thanks to a (French) disguise she’s adopted.  I like seeing Fay, who’s only used to being confident in private, losing some of her inhibitions with her new persona, and you’ve gotta like it when two people show their attraction by trading wordplay.

Best line:  “You like my style, yes? / My brand, yes? / Ze lay of my – how you say? – / Of my land, yes?”

“Everybody Says Don’t” – This solo is to die for; I love it so much.  It’s Hapgood’s anthem, his charge to Fay to stop letting other people’s limits hold her back.  The theme is gorgeous, and the melody builds so well, so triumphantly.  When I need to psych myself up, this is my go-to song.

Best line:  “Everybody says wait around for miracles, / That’s the way the world is made! / I insist on / Miracles, if you do them, / Miracles – nothing to them! / I say don’t, / Don’t be afraid!”

“See What It Gets You” – Up until now, Fay has looked to her hero, Hapgood, to save the day, but this is the moment when she realizes she can’t just sit and wait.  Heroes, she sees, can let you down, and sometimes, when the going gets toughest, all you can count on is yourself.  After relying on others and relying on disguises, Fay finally sees she has to rely on herself.

Best line:  “And if I’m not ready / And lightheaded, / I can’t stand here dumb! / So, ready or not, here – I hope – I come!”

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead (1966)

 

(Although the above picture is from the 1990 film adaptation, this post is about the play itself.)

 

This extraordinary play introduced me to Tom Stoppard years ago.  I’d rented the movie sight unseen, knowing that I liked Gary Oldman and it presumably had something to do with Hamlet, and immediately fell in love.  I was quick to seek out the script and check out more from Stoppard.  After reading the Coast of Utopia trilogy next, I definitely had a favorite playwright.

 

The story of Hamlet is turned inside out here, told through the eyes of his old school friends.  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, enlisted to “glean what afflicts” the mad young prince, play minor roles in Shakespeare’s play but still meet messy ends.  In this tale, they’re given center stage, muddling uncertainly through their task and heading inexorably toward their tragic finish. 

 

It’s an interesting viewpoint.  I’ve seen this technique before, although it’s more typically a story reworked from the villain’s perspective.  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern aren’t nefarious, and in Hamlet, they’re far from dynamic.  Essentially, they’re pawns in a royal game with little agency of their own.  However, both are of course the protagonists of their own lives, and as such, the play reframes Hamlet to be entirely about them.

 

The play has a strong absurdist bent, part of which comes from their unconscious knowledge that they’re minor characters in someone else’s play.  Left alone onstage too long, they grow antsy for someone more important to appear.  They despair at how little impact they seem to have on events and yearn for something meatier to work with.  “All we get is incidents!” Rosencrantz exclaims.  “Dear God, is it too much to expect a little sustained action?!”  Additionally, their generic interchangeability in Shakespeare’s play is magnified here – no one can tell them apart, to the point where Rosencrantz and Guildenstern themselves are no longer sure which is which.

 

Besides this nudging of the fourth wall, great absurdity and surrealism can be found in the incidental dialogue.  The pair’s actual scenes from Hamlet play out fairly verbatim, but between these scenes are long segments of the two of them basically waiting for something more to happen.  In these sequences, they obviously discuss their situation and try in vain to influence the proceedings, but that just scratches the surface.  They also play word games, philosophize, pick fights with tragedians, tell jokes, and challenge the laws of both probability and fate.

 

This is where the play truly lives.  Stoppard’s sparkling, whip-smart wit comes fast and furious, dancing nimbly between wry, outrageous, and reflective.  There are so many excellent scenes worth mentioning – the game of questions, roleplaying their confrontation with Hamlet, and Rosencrantz’s “dead in a box” speech are a few highlights.  The hapless leading men have an easy, bickering back-and-forth that rival any comedy duo alive or dead.  Rosencrantz’s eager-but-dim logic complements Guildenstern’s penchant for overly-complicated chains of thought, and the two squabble their way through the play with pitch-perfect timing.  Yet, for all that they get on one another’s nerves, they both know that they’re in this impossible, inscrutable situation together, and they always have each other’s backs in the end.

 

Warnings

 

Sexual references and a little swearing.