Film & Arts - Film Festival Traveler

the traveler's resource guide to festivals & films
a FestivalTravelNetwork.com site
part of Insider Media llc.

Connect with us:

You are here: Home

Film & Arts

Film and the Arts

Off-Broadway Review—Sam Shepard’s “Curse of the Starving Class” with Calista Flockhart and Christian Slater

Details: Parent Category: Film and the Arts; Category: Reviews; Published on Thursday, 20 March 2025 14:28; Written by Kevin Filipski

Curse of the Starving Class

Written by Sam Shepard; directed by Scott Elliott

Performances through April 6, 2025

The New Group @ Pershing Square Signature Center, 480 West 42nd Street, New York, NY

thenewgroup.org

Christian Slater and Calista Flockhart with Lois in Curse of the Starving Class (photo: Monique Carboni)

Sam Shepard was at the height of his powers when he wrote Curse of the Starving Class, in 1977; it’s the first of his dysfunctional family plays of that era: Buried Child, True West, Fool for Love and his masterpiece A Lie of the Mind. However—at least in Scott Elliott’s new staging—Curse is cursed by diminishing dramatic returns and fraught symbolism that turns crushingly literal.

The play revolves around the Tate family living on a desolate farm in rural California—father Weston, a drunkard, is barely home, while his wife Ella is busy planning a new life by befriending a shady real estate agent-banker Taylor with the hopes he will buy the property. Their children are Wesley, their 20ish son who fluctuates between anger and sympathy toward his erstwhile parents, and teenage Emma, who has designs on leaving for good.

For nearly three hours, these people battle one another psychologically and physically as their relationships ebb and flow. Weston—who scared Ella so much the night before the play begins that she called the cops on him after one of his drunken rages ended with him destroying the kitchen door and window—threatens both Ella and Taylor, whom he takes to be her paramour, and who probably suckered him into buying worthless desert property. Meanwhile, the owner of the local bar Weston frequents shows up one day with a lawful deed for the family farm that Weston agreed to sell to while on a bender.

Shepard is a master of poetic dialogue that reveals his damaged characters’ buried secrets, and some of that survives in Curse, but the pregnant monologues by each family member have been staged by Elliott as Shakespearean soliloquies aimed at the audience, blunting their casual immediacy. Elliott also has encouraged the actors to remain in one gear throughout, which Christian Slater (Weston) and Calista Flockhart (Ella) mostly cling to, while Cooper Hoffman (Wesley) and Stella Marcus (Emma) break free occasionally, to their—and the play’s—benefit.

Even the handling of the family sheep, one of Shepard’s most potent metaphors, is inadequate. In the script, the sheep is sick with maggots, and Wesley brings it inside to nurse it, much to his mother’s chagrin. But in this production, the sheep, played by Lois (sometimes Gladys), looks quite healthy—so much that the animal steals the scene when Weston is telling an anecdote. When the audience giggles over the sheep’s natural reaction to Slater speaking to it, it throws everyone out of the drama. Which might be a good thing, for—despite Jeff Croiter’s canny lighting and Leah Gelpe’s sharp sound design (too bad Arnulfo Maldonado’s kitchen set is less run down than it should be)—Elliott’s staging is too unbalanced to forcefully embody Shepard’s fractured family.

New York Philharmonic Premiere New Nico Muhly Concerto

Details: Parent Category: Film and the Arts; Category: Reviews; Published on Tuesday, 18 March 2025 14:58; Written by Jack Angstreich

Marin Alsop conducts the New York Philharmonic. Photo by Brandon Patoc

At Lincoln Center’s excellent David Geffen Hall on the night of Saturday, March 8th, I had the pleasure to attend a superb concert featuring the New York Philharmonic under the estimable direction of the eminent conductor, Marin Alsop.

The event started enjoyably with a creditable account of Ludwig van Beethoven’s classic Leonore Overture No. 3, Op. 72b, from 1806. The opening Adagio section is tentative in character but the middle Allegro part is stirring and exhilarating although with some more subdued passages; the closing Presto component is exuberant and propulsive, ending forcefully.

The impressive soloist Renaud Capuçon then entered the stage for a striking rendition of Nico Muhly’s remarkable Violin Concerto, which was commissioned by Paul J. Sekhri and this ensemble and received its world premiere with these performances. Muhly is justly celebrated for his score Cascades—for choreographer Justin Peck’s wonderful ballet Rotunda—as well as his powerful and memorable, acclaimed Metropolitan Opera commission, Two Boys. About the new piece, Muhly has said:

I know what I've done, and I know what I haven't done. You have these seeds that you've planted for yourself and little gifts that you've given yourself through all your previous experience. Writing this, I felt like I was in a good relationship with what I've done before and things that I'm interested in doing in the future.

He also provided this comment on it:

The fundamental question of a concerto is: what is the relationship between this one person and a bunch of other people? There's a built-in narrative to it, if you want it or not. There's a piece of theater present in any concert, but in a concerto there's this additional one-versus-many element. Composers have to have an answer for what that relationship is. This year, I knew I was writing four concerti back-to-back. All of them involve different relationships between soloist and ensemble. In this particular one, I leaned into a more traditional relationship, but the concerto goes in and out of the violin leading the orchestra, the orchestra leading the violin, and then a more combative relationship, which you see in the first movement.

You have this one person in the center, and then there's a conductor, and then there are the principal players in the strings, and then there's this radiating out of sound. There are actually a jillion violins on stage, and suddenly having the ear and the eye drawn toward the extreme edge of the stage has a certain power to it. The back of a violin section has a lot of sonic potential: it's the person farthest away from the soloist, but it's the same instrument, so it has an almost electronic effect, where it's like a distant echo. It's also kind of fun. I don't want to say it's an inside joke, but when do you get to play a solo if you're sitting at the back — It's like a fun little Easter egg.

The concerto begins somewhat mysteriously but it engagingly if slowly intensifies in rhythm and ends abruptly. The work seems to reflect the influence of minimalism, especially as practiced by composers like Philip Glass and John Adams.

The second half of the evening was even more compelling, starting with a delightful version of Johannes Brahms’s extraordinary Variations on a Theme by Haydn, Op. 56a, from 1873. The initial, Andante Chorale St. Antoni is pleasurable while the first Variation, marked Poco più animato, is fugue-like and the second (Più vivace), dynamic. The enchanting third, Con moto Variation is followed by the solemn, Andante con moto fourth and the ebullient, Vivace fifth. The stately, march-like but jubilant, sixth Variation—also with a Vivace tempo—precedes the elegant, charming, Grazioso seventh and the captivating, Presto non troppo eighth, while the Andante Finale is ultimately triumphant.

The concert’s conclusion was its pinnacle: a ravishing realization of Igor Stravinsky’s magnificent Suite from his famous ballet, The Firebird, presented in its 1919 version. In his useful notes on the program, James M. Keller—former New York Philharmonic Program Annotator; San Francisco Symphony program annotator; and author of Chamber Music: A Listener's Guide—offered this summary of the work’s scenario:

The tale involves the dashing Prince Ivan (Ivan Tsarevich), who finds himself wandering through the garden of the evil King Kashchei, whose power resides in a magic egg that he guards in an elegant box. In Kashchei's garden, the Prince captures a Firebird, which pleads for its life. The Prince agrees to spare it if it gives him one of its magic tail feathers, and it agrees. Thus armed, the Prince continues through his evening and happens upon 13 enchanted princesses. The most beautiful of them catches his eye, and (acting under Kashchei's spell) lures him to a spot where Kashchei's demonic guards can ensnare him. Before he can be put under a spell himself, the Prince uses the feather to summon the Firebird, which reveals to him the secret of the magic egg. The Prince locates and smashes the egg, then goes off to marry the newly liberated Princess, with whom, of course, he will live happily ever after.

The first movement—The Firebird and Its Dance; Variation of the Firebird—opens uncannily with an almost sinister ethos; a lyrical theme ushers in the appearance of the dazzling Firebird. The bewitching second movement—The Princesses' Round-Dance (Khorovod)—is succeeded by the startling, mesmerizing, extravagant Infernal Dance of King Kashchei. The ensuing, haunting, exquisite Lullaby is some of the most beautiful music ever composed, while the stunning Finale builds to a blaze of glory.

The artists, deservedly, were enthusiastically applauded.

London Symphony Orchestra Perform William Walton at Carnegie Hall

Details: Parent Category: Film and the Arts; Category: Reviews; Published on Friday, 14 March 2025 13:50; Written by Jack Angstreich

Soloist Yunchan Lim with the London Symphony Orchestra. Photo by Chris Lee.

At the wonderful Stern Auditorium, on the evening of Thursday, March 6th, I had the pleasure to attend a superb concert presented by Carnegie Hall—the second of two on consecutive nights—featuring the excellent London Symphony Orchestra under the very distinguished direction of its Chief Conductor, Sir Antonio Pappano.

The event started brilliantly with an amazing performance of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s incomparable Piano Concerto No. 2 in C Minor, Op. 18, with the terrific soloist, Yunchan Lim. The very beginning of the initial, Moderato movementhas a premonitory character, but it very quickly becomes the vehicle for a moody, passionate Romanticism, while the piano enters with the exquisite, primary theme; the music intensifies, ultimately concluding forcefully. The ensuing, slow movement, marked Adagio sostenuto, is extraordinarily lyrical, if meditative; it too builds to an early climax before closing softly. The Allegro scherzando finale is dynamic, propulsive and dazzling, but with quiet interludes, ending triumphantly. Exceedingly enthusiastic applause elicited an exceptionally beautiful encore from Lim: Franz Liszt’s "Sonetto del Petrarca No. 104" from Années de pèlerinage, deuxième année: Italie, No. 5.

The second half of the concert was also remarkable: a sterling realization of the undervalued, seldom played Symphony No. 1 of William Walton. According to the useful notes on the program by Jack Sullivan, “Walton wrote it during an unhappy love affair to a young, widowed baroness he could not hope to marry because of his lower-middle-class social status.” He adds that “The work is dedicated to the lover who broke up with him, Baroness Irma von Doernberg.” The composer said, “This awful tempestuous work was really all her fault.” Sullivan comments:

Nonetheless, the symphony took a while to enter the repertory, partly because, as Walton ruefully said, “it is so damn hard to play.”

In 2021, the late critic Terry Teachout eloquently wrote the following about the piece:

The First Symphony, above all, is a work of colossal force, one that has always belonged in the international repertoire, and this symphony as well as its companion pieces of the ’30s deserve to be known as masterpieces whose accessibility is a mark not of their superficiality but their distinction. They may not sound all that English, but they sound like no one else … and their time will come.

The first movement—it has a tempo of Allegro assai—begins suspensefully, rapidly becoming very turbulent—but with subdued episodes—and finishing emphatically. The succeeding Scherzo, marked Presto con malizia, is breathless in momentum for much of its length, but again with less exuberant passages, and it ends abruptly and unconventionally. The slow movement (Andante con malinconia) is inward and emotional, but song-like at times, and it closes gently. The annotator records that:

Walton wrote the ending first, so he knew where the symphony was heading. “I always looked forward to the last movement when I was conducting it,” he said.

The Maestoso finale is stirring, exciting and dramatic—even sometimes extravagant—but, again, with more tentative sections; it concludes affirmatively, if not pronouncedly so. A deserved standing ovation was rewarded with another magnificent encore: the unsurpassably enchanting Valse triste of Jean Sibelius.

March '25 Digital Week II

Details: Parent Category: Film and the Arts; Category: Reviews; Published on Wednesday, 12 March 2025 19:53; Written by Kevin Filipski

In-Theater Releases of the Week

Queen of the Ring

(Sumerian Pictures)

Mildred Burke, the first female wrestling superstar in the mid-20th century and the first female sports figure to earn a million dollars, is the focus of Ash Avildsen’s highly entertaining biopic: although it skims over some fascinating material, there’s a lot jammed into its 135-minute running time, as we meet Mildred and her protective mother Bertha, her trainer/husband/ex/adversary Billy Wolfe, the women who join her in the ring and even such colorful male wrestling characters as Gorgeous George and Vince McMahon Sr. (father of the McMahon we all know and loathe).

Avildsen obviously learned from his father, John G. Avildsen (Oscar winner for Rocky), how to shoot action in the ring, but can’t keep melodrama to a minimum outside it. But the energetic cast keeps our interest: Emily Bett Rickards (who could be Margaret Qualley’s twin) is a phenomenal Mildred and Josh Lucas a properly slimy Billy, while the sterling supporting cast is led by Francesca Eastwood, Marie Avgeropoulos, Deborah Ann Woll and Kelli Berglund as the women in Mildred’s corner.

Seven Veils

(XYZ Entertainment)

For his latest feature, Canadian auteur Atom Egoyan cannibalizes his own stage-directing career for a leaden drama that follows opera director Jeanine as she stages Richard Strauss’ masterpiece Salome ostensibly as an homage to her mentor but also as a way to work out her own personal trauma. Amanda Seyfried’s committed portrayal of Jeanine can’t make her more of an individual and less of a metaphor for Egoyan’s own provocative thoughts about creating art on stage and screen, which end up overwhelming the story.

And paralleling the opera’s events with what happens offstage doesn’t get much dramatic traction either. There are enticing excerpts from the opera—as staged by Egoyan himself for Toronto’s Canadian Opera Company—but how disappointing that a great singer like Karita Mattila (whom I saw as a sensational Salome at the Metropolitan Opera in 2004) is reduced to a walk-on as Salome’s mother Herodias.

4K/UHD Releases of the Week

Den of Thieves 2—Pantera

(Lionsgate)

In this second go-round for Gerard Butler and O’Shea Jackson Jr., an international group known as the Panthers, which brazenly stole a diamond and important files at the Antwerp, Belgium, airport, is planning another major heist in Nice, France. Writer-director Christian Gudegast paces the action decently and there’s a certain fun in watching the complex planning, but trodding very familiar ground for 135 minutes leads to repetition and wheel-spinning.

Compensations are the attractive European locales and the easy camaraderie of Butler, Jackson Jr. and cohorts including Evin Ahmad and Salvatore Esposito. There’s a fine hi-def transfer; extras are a commentary featuring Gudegast, making-of featurette and deleted scenes.

Red One

(Warner Bros)

If your idea of a holiday movie is watching Santa get kidnaped on Christmas Eve while the head of his security detail and a hired hacker track down his whereabouts and, after many implausible chases and stunts, rescue him in time for present delivery, then this has your name all over it.

Although it’s way too noisy and clunky in director Jake Kasdan’s hands, it does have a fun cast, from J.T. Simmons’ sardonic Santa and Bonnie Hunt’s endearing Mrs. Claus to the interplay among the rescuers led by Chris Evans, Dwayne Johnson and Lucy Liu, who trade quips and insults from Chris Morgan’s script incessantly. There’s an excellent UHD transfer.

Wolf Man

(Universal)

Director/cowriter Leigh Wannell had a hit in 2020 with The Invisible Man, a creepy thriller that made a people anticipate his follow-up, but this attempt to reboot a dormant horror franchise unfortunately suffers from a literalness that obscures whatever effective scares might be lurking in the all too familiar material.

Wannell concentrates on body horror, display the scale of physical brutishness that results when family man Blake is transformed into a creature preying on his loving wife Charlotte and young daughter Ginger—but that’s no replacement for a lack of sympathy for the victims, something that is almost—but not quite—mitigated by Julia Garner’s usual sturdy portrayal of Charlotte. There’s a terrific UHD transfer; extras comprise Wannell’s commentary and four short making-of featurettes.

Blu-ray Release of the Week

Joseph Campbell and the Power of Myth

(Film Movement)

Legendary television interviewer Bill Moyers sat down with legendary author Joseph Campbell—whose books about the universality of myths were best-sellers for decades—at George Lucas’ Skywalker Ranch (Lucas famously admitted he was under Campbell’s influence)—for a series of memorable discussions shown on PBS in 1988, a year after Campbell’s death.

This two-disc set collects the six hour-long programs that are still among the most popular in public television history as well as a few enticing extras: Moyers’ episode-length interview with Lucas and two Bill Moyers Journal episodes with Campbell.

CD Release of the Week

Georges Antheil—Venus in Africa

(CPO)

For George Antheil (1900-1959), the American composer known as the “bad boy of music” thanks to his avant-garde compositions of the 1920s and 30s while he lived in Paris and Berlin, it was when he returned to the U.S. that he restarted his career with simpler, more conventional works that still retained a lot of charm. Case in point is this amusing, attractive one-act opera about a couple helped by the ancient goddess.

While not earthshaking like his earlier Ballet Mécanique or A Jazz Symphony, Venus has a pleasing tunefulness that’s showcased in this recording, with conductor Steven Sloane leading the Bochumer Philharmoniker and a sassy cast of five singers.

Subcategories

Page 5 of 561

Newsletter Sign Up

Upcoming Events

No Calendar Events Found or Calendar not set to Public.

Tweets!

Tweets by @FilmFestTravel