A Few Notes on Buster Keaton and Animals

Animals are big in silent comedies.  I suppose it’s somewhat tied to the fact that many early film stars came from vaudeville and brought their sensibilities with them.  Animal acts were a vaudeville staple, and their popularity meant that there were a lot of highly-trained animals onstage and/or making the switch to the big screen.  Buster is no exception, and, as usual, he’s able to take something simple – the presence of an animal – and weave fantastic comedy from it.

Dogs are of course a big feature.  Buster comes by his knack for directing/acting with/writing gags for dogs honestly, since Fatty Arbuckle’s pit bull Luke was a regular cast member of the Arbuckle-Keaton shorts.  By the time Buster was making his own productions, he was well-acquainted with the talented Hollywood dog, and Luke makes a memorable appearance in The Scarecrow, one of Buster’s earliest shorts.  Mistaking Luke for a “mad dog,” Buster runs for his life with the pit bull hot on his heels, getting chased even up a ladder and precariously around the tops of the freestanding walls on a house under construction.  I love the moment when Buster finally giving up running and shakes Luke’s paw to seal their “truce.”

The dog in Our Hospitality is similarly prominent – less personality, maybe, but the gags are terrific.  It’s easy to see how slow the train really is when we see Willie’s dog easily keeping pace with it, and Willie’s expression when he gets down south and realizes his dog followed him all the way from New York is priceless.  And who doesn’t love his attempts to stay longer at the house by demonstrating all his incredibly halfhearted dog tricks time and time again?  Beyond that, there are plenty of smaller sight gags with dogs that are a ton of fun.  Buster incorporates a dog into one of his rigged-up contraptions in The High Sign, he hilariously turns his chariot into a dogsled in the Roman sequence of Three Ages, and he has a fun dog buddy in the vet scene from Daydreams; after they both get sprayed by the skunk and Buster comes out to bury his clothes, the sight of the dog trotting after him to bury its collar just kills me.

Buster also has quite a way with horses.  I adore the running gag of the horse in Hard Luck, which is way too tall for Buster to mount.  Some of his creative fixes for getting atop his horse are wonderful – my personal favorite is riding up escalator-style on his too-elastic stirrup, as well as baiting the horse with grass and then climbing up its neck while its head is bent.  There are similar too-big mule gags in Go West, the wild thing from Cops, and shoeing the fashioned-conscious horse in The Blacksmith.  Going back to Three Ages, before Buster revamps his chariot, I love that all his horses are wildly different sizes (and at least one of them is a donkey.)  And in Our Hospitality?  He disguises a horse as himself disguised as a woman.  That takes skill.

Looking at other animals, pride of place must of course go to Brown Eyes, the cow from Go West.  I never would’ve thought a cow could be such a good actress, but she’s just great with Buster.  Although, in my opinion, The Cameraman uses the monkey maybe a bit too much (it feels like a crutch at times,) it’s still fun, and you’ve gotta respect a monkey who can film news reel.  I suppose it makes sense, though – the skill of grinding an organ has to be fairly transferable to hand-cranking a camera.  My last favorite is a bit of a cheat, since I’m sure it’s a fake, but it’s so funny that I’m including it anyway.  During Alfred’s hunting trip in Battling Butler, I could die laughing at the duck that keeps diving down and popping back up on the opposite side of Alfred’s boat as he tries in vain to shoot it – so good!

Doctor Who: Series 9, Episode 4 – “Before the Flood” (2015)

For my money, “Before the Flood” doesn’t conclude this story as well as “Under the Lake” began it, which is disappointing.  It’s still fine, and I enjoy it, but after the fantastic promise of part one, part two lets it down a bit.

This episode finds our heroes separated by time and circumstance.  While Clara remains on the underwater base with half of the crew, braving the ghosts and trying to work out the newest clues they’ve been given, the Doctor is back in time with the other half.  He’s gone back to before any of this happened, hoping that if he can understand how it came about in the past, he’ll know how to stop it in the present.  Lots of timey-wimeyness going on here, along with plenty of debate on the should- or should-not-ness of trying to change the future.

The supporting cast remains great.  I continue to love Cass, the Deaf commanding officer; she’s tough, smart, and brave, and she fights hard for the people she cares about.  I also really like O’Donnell, former intelligence and self-confessed Doctor fan.  She drops in some delightful continuity mentions (the whole episode has oodles of new Who continuity porn – for some reason, name-dropping the Arcateenians, who’ve actually only appeared on Torchwood and The Sarah Jane Adventures, made me smile the most,) and she may have the most loveably-accurate TARDIS geek-out moment I’ve ever seen. 

Beyond that, the atmosphere is creepy, and the Fisher King, the story’s Big Bad, is freaky.  He’s awesome and terrible, and the Doctor’s confrontation with him is probably the best scene in the episode.  After last season, which often felt so stingy about letting Twelve be a hero and do stuff, they’re really making up for it this year.  He shines so much when he goes one-on-one with the bad guys, and the Fisher King is an excellent opponent for him to face.  And as a bonus, we’re given a little face time with someone from Tivoli, the most invaded planet in the galaxy.  I loved all the Tivoli jokes in “The God Complex,” and they’re almost as fun here.

On the downside, the episode relies heavily on a number of overused new Who plot devices, including more than one that got significant play in the season’s opening story, ie The One Right Before This One.  For the sake of spoilers, I won’t get into which tropes are brought forward yet again, but I’m getting tired of at least a few of them, and especially after “The Magician’s Apprentice” / “The Witch’s Familiar,” it was way too soon to bring them back.

Even more unfortunately, after three weeks of having basically no qualms about Clara, she has something of a relapse this episode.  It’s really just one scene that bugs me in the way that her writing last season bugged me, and it’s fairly mild compared to a lot of series-8 Clara complaints, but I was hoping we were past all that now.  Suffice it to say, there’s something serious going on with the Doctor, and it feels to me like Clara mostly views it for how it’s going to affect her, with little concern for Doctor himself.  And just in general, it’s not a strong showing for her, and she doesn’t get to do all that much.  (Come to think of it, her contributions to “The Witch’s Familiar” are pretty minimal as well – so far this season, she’s the most effective in “The Magician’s Apprentice,” in which the Doctor is absent for nearly half the episode.  I’m really starting the question if the show knows how to write both the Doctor and Clara as capable at the same time, or if it thinks they have to take turns.)

Sleepy Hollow: Abbie Mills & Ichabod Crane, Revisited

The new season of Sleepy Hollow has aired two episodes so far, and I’m a bit surprised that my stance on Crane and Abbie has changed.  While I’ve always loved them as friends, compatriots, and witnesses, the third-season premiere marked the first time I’ve really wanted to view them in a will-they won’t-they light, leaning heavily on the will-they.  (Some Crane family spoilers.)

Don’t get me wrong – platonic friendships are my jam.  When I began the show, I was all-too-happy to see Abbie and Crane as such and hoped they’d stay that way.  I was fine with Katrina’s rescue from purgatory in season 2, but as her screentime increased, Abbie’s diminished, which was not okay.  And yet, I didn’t resent Katrina for being Crane’s wife or blocking any potential Crane/Abbie romance.  I was only annoyed because Abbie ≥ The Bomb, which is not true of Katrina, and I’d rather watch Abbie being amazing than Katrina doing her thing.  While I didn’t like Katrina’s presence upsetting the Crane-Abbie dynamic, it was the friendship I was missing.  Fast-forward to season 3, and I’m cautiously, happily dipping my toes in the shipper pool where Crane and Abbie are concerned.  In the most recent episode, as they have roommate adjustment issues (Crane is currently without a residence, and Abbie offered to let him stay with her) and open up about secret regrets… Well, I didn’t squee, but let’s just say I could have.

The Katrina-heaviness of season 2 is part of it, I think.  Seeing the Cranes together in the present shows how ill-suited they are for each other, and how simpatico Abbie and Crane are by comparison.  Not that I think a relationship is automatically better if it involves romance – far from it – or that two people of corresponding orientations belong “together” if there’s a bond between them.  Nor does Crane “deserve” Abbie on the grounds that she’s better than Katrina, like Abbie is something to bestow on him.  Not at all.  But… I don’t know.  I see the way he desires the love of someone who understands him, someone he can trust implicitly, and in many ways, I think he and Abbie already are that for each other. 

And as for Abbie, I mentioned before that I like how romance is a non-issue for her.  I still like that she’s not defined by her relationship status and that she has pursuits that are all about her.  However, I’ve tried to think more closely about her character and the intersectionality between her race and her gender.  It feels progressive to me that the female lead in a series isn’t instantly paired with or earmarked for a male partner, but does the same hold true when that female lead is Black?  We’ve seen a couple of Abbie’s exes and others expressing interest, but we’ve never seen her with a boyfriend, or even on a date.  When this dynamic plays out with a Black woman, is there an unconscious underpinning that she isn’t desirable in that way?  There’s also a tendency to think of female characters without romantic attachments as stronger or more feminist (a trap I’ve fallen into before,) but that’s just one narrative.  A strong woman doesn’t “need” a man (or woman or otherwise-gendered person, obviously,) but does that mean she can’t be with one if she wants to?  An unexpected side effect of attempts to highlight a woman’s independence and capability can be to imply that men aren’t interested, not really interested, in being with a woman like that.  In Abbie’s case, it’s not as clear-cut, since she’s definitely had guys interested in her, but it’s getting conspicuous that we’ve still never seen her in a romantic situation.

But back to the specific pairing at hand.  The biggest thing preventing me from whole-heartedly shipping these two is concerns about the writing – the show doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to romance, and I’d hate for a) Abbie’s character to be assassinated in the process of an Abbie/Crane pairing, and b) the lovely relationship Crane and Abbie have now to be sacrificed for something more typical and not as good.  If, however, they can be written as lovers the same way they’ve been written as friends and witnesses, it could be spectacular.  Their trust, their confidences, the way each relies on the strength of the other, the way they bounce ideas off each other, the way they share both the demon-researching and the demon-fighting, Abbie’s teasing, Crane’s regard – that could look fantastic as a romance.  

Lastly, to be really honest?  I think a tiny part of it is the hair.  In the season 3 premiere, I noticed Abbie’s new, shorter haircut and thought it looked good on her.  But when Crane make his first appearance (after the two have been apart for months) and his hair is cropped, too?  I dunno.  It just clicked.  There’s something endearing about it, a nice little “in-sync” note that, for whatever reason, finally cemented it for me:  Abbie/Crane?  I think I want it.

Much Ado about Nothing (1993, PG-13)

Over the past few years, I’ve made a steady dent in Shakespeare’s body of work, and Much Ado about Nothing is my favorite of the comedies I’ve read so far.  It’s so sharp and funny, it has such excellent characters in Beatrice and Benedick, and the dialogue is to die for.  This adaptation is, I’d say, rightfully regarded as the definitive one, and my Shakespearean repertoire is decidedly fuller now that I’ve seen it.

Standard Much Ado about Nothing plot description:  three jovial wits return from the wars and are invited into the home of a prominent Sicilian.  Young Claudio is instantly taken by Hero, the lovely, demure daughter of the house, and self-declared bachelor Benedick protests too much in his “hatred” for Hero’s spirited, quick-tongued cousin Beatrice.  It’s a play of interference in love.  While Benedick and Beatrice’s friends conspire to throw the love/hate pair together, the piece’s villain seeks to pollute Claudio and Hero’s prospective happiness.

As with any adaptation, casting is key, and this film delivers big time.  Kenneth Branagh pulls triple duty, providing the direction, the script, and the role of Benedick.  He’s as excellent as ever, but I think my experience with The Hollow Crown and other adaptations are broadening my horizons, because he’s no longer the be-all end-all of Shakespearian performers for me.  It sounds like faint praise, but it’s no slight to Branagh – it’s just a celebration of having even more actors to love for their Shakespeare, like Ben Whishaw and Tom Hiddleston.  And Emma Thompson is stunning as Beatrice.  Sparkling with wit, both strong and playful as the situation requires, and all-around amazing.  If I were romantic, I’d probably be in love with her.  Other highlights include Denzel Washington, who is every inch the royal Don Pedro, a very young Robert Sean Leonard (Wilson from House) as Claudio, and a kooky-but-fun Michael Keaton as comic constable Dogberry.  Imelda Staunton and Phyllida Law are also in the film, but their roles are fairly small. 

Less successful is Keanu Reeves as Don John – let’s just say it doesn’t work and leave it at that.  And Kate Beckinsale’s Hero… She’s fine in the part, sweet and beautiful, everything Hero should be.  I have no complaints with her performance.  However, the movie is really striking in showing how limited her role really is.  I can’t remember the exact time, but I know it was at least 15 minutes before she had a scripted line, despite being present onscreen for much of that time.  Although the film obviously cuts stuff for time, her screentime is pretty proportional to her stage time.  It’s crazy how little she actually gets to do, which, as a commentary on the “perfect woman” of Elizabethan society, is interesting.  It’s no wonder Benedick and Beatrice pull the play out from under Claudio and Hero, and it’s clear which pair Shakespeare is more invested in.

The adaptation as a whole is excellent.  I especially like the opening of the masque, and the culling scenes with both Benedick and Beatrice are a lot of fun.  If I have a complaint, it’s that I wish the dirty jokes were more plainly delivered as such, because it’s always so much truer when the naughty bits are given their due, particularly in the comedies.

Warnings

Sexual content (including brief incidental nudity,) drinking, and thematic elements.

Relationship Spotlight: Ned & Emerson (Pushing Daisies)

Pushing Daisies is one of those infinitely-pairable shows, where you can put virtually any two characters in a scene together and get gold.  You’ve got Chuck and Olive, Ned and Vivian, Emerson and Chuck, Ned and Olive, Ned and Chuck, Olive and Emerson, Lily and Vivian… Any way you slice it, it works.  Amid all that fun and watchability, though, I think Ned and Emerson might be my favorite.  (A few character-related spoilers.)

Logistically, they make perfect sense as partners.  Emerson is a private investigator, and Ned can wake a murder victim with a touch of his finger to ask who killed them.  It’s a no-brainer!  (Not to mention, Ned owns a pie shop and Emerson has a sweet tooth – I’d be shocked if they didn’t want to associate with each other.)  However, as we move from the hypothetical to the actual, we see that they’re tremendously different people.

If Ned hadn’t been struggling financially when he met Emerson, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to their unconventional sleuthing arrangement.  He’s a bit of a homebody who’s uncomfortable with change and likes to have a system.  He generally prefers keeping his head down, which makes sense, because he’s had a spontaneously-occurring magical power since childhood and a fear of being discovered/dissected.  But at the same time, when his emotions take over, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s already done it.  It’s his heart that leads him to the reckless, impulsive decision of permanently reviving Chuck, and it’s responsible for the brunt of the greatest/scariest/most complicated things that happen to him.

On the other hand, Emerson is street-smart and imminently practical; some would say ruthlessly so.  He’s not above sniffing around the morgue and trying to ingratiate himself among some bereaved next-of-kin in the hopes of securing new a new job.  While Ned can be awkward as an investigator and is almost laughably inept at any type of undercover work, Emerson is in his element here.  He’s well-versed in the tricks of the trade, knows how to put the screws to someone, and though I wouldn’t call him a natural cynic, he certainly comes by it honestly.  Once Chuck enters the picture, it’s Emerson who chews Ned out for his hasty actions and worries that Chuck will be found out, throwing a wrench in his operation with Ned.  And later, he becomes the annoyed observer of their overall schmoopiness and is sometimes roped into playing the begrudging proxy to their hugs, high-fives, and hand-holding (if Ned and Chuck touch a second time, Chuck will be dead again forever.)

Working together, both men pick up a lot from the other while remaining utterly themselves.  Ned learns plenty of P.I. skills from Emerson, and under the somewhat bossy tutelage of his friend, he starts to grow bolder and more discerning.  He also manages to get his head out of the clouds at least a tiny bit where Chuck is concerned, thinking of the real ramifications of their relationship and situation.  Meanwhile, Ned helps Emerson to access his emotions a bit more (that sounds way more flowery than it really is, by the way.)  Like Ned, Emerson has a soft side, but he doesn’t like to let anyone see it.  Gradually, though, he starts to open up to Ned about the things he usually keeps to himself, which in turn helps him open up to others as well.  I love how delightedly incredulous Ned is when Emerson first eases up on the gruff routine, revealing that he went to art school, and any scene that features Emerson confiding to Ned about his lost daughter is basically perfect.

Favorite Characters: Gwen Stacy (The Amazing Spider-Man)

All right, so I’ve sung her praises often enough in everything else I’ve written about The Amazing Spider-Man; let’s just make it official.  I heart Gwen Stacy.  I wouldn’t have expected that, since, in the cartoons I watched as a kid, I always preferred MJ, but this version of the character won me over hard.

As I’ve said, Gwen has become one of my favorite superhero’s girlfriends ever, and honestly probably one of my top five female characters in any superhero movie I’ve seen (there’s a list worth thinking about.)  She gives Peter what for – not in a “domineering” or “bitchy” way, but in a way that says, “Hey, we’re both in this, so let’s act like it.”  She’s not down with anyone making her decisions for her, and she sometimes needs to talk some sense into Peter when he thinks he can sideline her for her protection.  (Notice I said “talk” and not “smack,” because Gwen and Peter talk about their issues like people who, for teenagers, are pretty reasonable when they want to be.)

Peter’s lucky that she doesn’t take kindly to being sent away for her own good, because she’s supremely helpful.  Gwen isn’t just Peter’s cheerleader or his damsel or his oblivious lover from whom he comically hides his secret identity.  She’s extremely smart and knows it, and she applies to her keen understanding of science and technology to help Peter get what he needs to save the day while he’s keeping the bad guys busy.  (That makes it sound like Peter is the brawn to Gwen’s brain, which isn’t true.  Although she reminds him that her grades are better than his, he’s plenty brainy, too.  It’s just that, in the big showdown situations, his particular spider-skillset is greatly needed, since there’s no one else who can go head-to-head with superpowered persons.  They both know that nonpowered Gwen can’t fight like Peter can, so she plays to her own strengths and does the science stuff while his hands are full.)  This puts her dangerously close to the front lines, but her desire to help keep people safe wins out over any fear she feels for her safety. 

Because she is afraid sometimes; she’s not Super-Girl.  She feels afraid, she makes reckless decisions, and she gets upset over a guy.  In short, she’s a person, albeit an awesome one.  She doesn’t let fear, rashness, or personal hardships hold her back.  She pushes through her fear to do what needs to be done.  She has big ambitions and goes after what she wants.  She cares about people and gives of herself to protect them.  She believes in science’s ability to solve problems and save lives.  And honestly, she’s just so much fun.  She’s hugely sarcastic – not mean-spirited, just wry, and she can snark with Peter in the most serious of situations.  Even while hiding from people who are after them, when Peter points out that a maintenance closet is too obvious a choice, Gwen ironically apologizes for not taking them “to the Bahamas of hiding places.”  I love it so much. 

It’s sad that part of my love for Gwen is down to how unique she is within her genre.  I’ll watch Iron Man or Thor and think about how Pepper and Jane are pretty good, and then I’ll see Gwen and be reminded that they could be so much better.  I mean, in my book, she’s cooler than a lot of the women in the X-Men films, and they’re mutants with superpowers.  She outshines women who are older than her, more educated than her, and more powerful than her, and I think she does it by a fairly wide margin.  Why aren’t great characters like her more the norm?

A Few Notes on Cisgender Actors Playing Transgender Characters

*Disclaimer: My thoughts on this subject have definitely evolved from what they were when I wrote this. Honestly, these days, I just don’t have any interest in seeing cis actors in trans roles. Whenever I hear about a trans role being played by a cis actor that I like, it bums me out – not because I wish I could see it but “can’t” out of moral principle, but just because it’s a disappointment that they’re doing it. I don’t want to see cis actors “disappear” into a trans role, and it doesn’t really matter how much a fan I otherwise am of their work. My gut reaction is usually just, “Ugh, pass.” Luckily, TV is becoming more inclusive in casting authentically on this front, and trans actors are starting to make (very) tiny inroads onto the big screen, offering better alternatives to check out.*

 

I’ll admit that I’ve watched my share of trans characters as performed by cis actors, and while I don’t think playing contrary to your gender identity means that you should be immediately showered with accolades and held up as a paragon of acting, I’ve definitely been mad impressed by some of the performances I’ve seen (such as Lee Pace in Soldier’s Girl, Peter Capaldi on Prime Suspect, and Hilary Swank in Boys Don’t Cry.)  It wasn’t until I really started paying attention to trans issues that I started to question the practice of hiring cis actors for trans roles.

It’s not that cis actors are incapable of playing trans characters well.  As with virtually any role, some actors can pull off this type of demand and some can’t (I maintain my disappointment at Cillian Murphy in Breakfast on Pluto.)  However, continually casting cis actors in trans roles – and then heaping awards on them – is monumentally unfair in an industry where working trans actors have their choice of roles extremely limited as it is.  Much like sticking able-bodied actors in a wheelchair or whitewashing a character of color for the screen adaptation of a popular book, casting cis-as-trans takes away big opportunities for a marginalized subset of the acting community.

It’s only been in the last couple years that I’ve really seen trans actors playing trans characters, mainly on TV.  There’s been Laverne Cox on Orange is the New Black, Candis Cayne on Elementary, Tom Phelan on The Fosters, and assorted supporting/minor characters on Transparent.  Seeing these actors perform in various-sized roles, from recurring guest star to ensemble regular, only hammers home how important it is that actors are allowed access to opportunities. 

My question is, once I’ve identified myself as a consumer who feels this way, what’s my responsibility?  I want to see trans stories being told and trans characters incorporated organically into a narrative, but the majority of these characters (especially the prominent ones) are still being cast with cis actors.  Let’s take The Danish Girl, out later this award season and starring Eddie Redmayne (he already has his able-bodied-playing-disabled Oscar – will he rack up a cis-playing-trans Oscar as well?)  Do I see it because I support studio films about transgender people?  This tacitly accepts the casting conventions that led to Redmayne getting the role instead of a trans actress.  Do I not see it, boycott it, or even protest it because I believe trans roles should be filled by trans performers?  This runs the risk of Hollywood, in all its fallaciously logical wisdom, saying, “People aren’t going to The Danish Girl!  Obviously, this means consumers aren’t interested in trans movies – let’s not make any more.”  Do I see it to support the story and write a letter to the studio expressing my disappointment with the casting practices?  Since, in the film industry, money talks far louder than words do, this could simply result in the studio saying, “Well, it wasn’t enough to stop you from buying a ticket, so we don’t have anything to worry about!”

I don’t know what the answer is.  Where and how do my interests as a consumer intersect with my role as an ally?  How can I do my part, however small, to be part of the solution instead of the problem?  There are fantastic, compelling stories out there.  What can I do to help see them get told as they should be?