Grease was the
word… being bandied about by a few elbow-rubbing journalists after a special 16-minute
preview screening of footage from Hairspray
earlier this week. As in, “Didn’t that remind you of Grease?” and, “That’s going to connect with audiences unlike any Hollywood
musical since Grease.”
Heady predictions, sure, but not entirely undeserved or
irrational speculation based on the high-energy, song-and-dance clip-fest which
director Adam Shankman introduced as a sort of “Frankentrailer.” Gushing that
the movie was the best thing that had ever happened to him professionally, Shankman
very briefly attempted a Roberto Benigni impression — standing astride two screening
room chairs, on the armrests — before wisely returning to terra firma for the rest of his short introduction. Shankman
went on to effusively praise composer Marc Shaiman’s work on the score, and say that he hoped his adaptation of Thomas Meehan and Mark O’Donnell’s
musical stageplay adaptation of John Waters’ 1988 film could serve as an
antidote to what he views as “a summer of three-quels” and franchises.
Based on what screened, there’s reason for optimism. Set in
1962 Baltimore, there was sock-hop and
bandstand shimmying aplenty in the footage, to go alongside trademark, deliciously
zonked, zealously imploring line readings from Christopher Walken, as well as
some grade-A belting from Queen Latifah. Newcomer Nikki Blonsky (above right),
as pleasantly plump inveterate dreamer Tracy Turnblad, really made an
impression, even if it was John Travolta (above left), in heavy make-up as insistently
cautious matriarch Edna Turnblad, who had many folks in stitches. It seems like there’s also an anti-segregation march musical number, which has to be some sort of first.
Marketing the period to those for whom the ’90s is, like, so
yesterday may certainly present its own set of challenges, but the quality of
the merchandise at least looks up to snuff, which is great news. Distributed by
New Line, Hairspray is currently set
for a wide release on July 20. For more information, click here.
Universally credited as the originators of the popular “girl
group” sound, the Shirelles paved the way for acts like Martha Reeves and the
Vandellas, as well as the Supremes. Others may have ultimately done it to more
acclaim, but no one did it quite like the Shirelles, as this solid little concert
disc proves.
Fronted by Doris Jackson, the Shirelles got their start in 1958
as schoolgirls in Passaic, New
Jersey. In keeping with their youth, their sound was
clean, smooth and vibrant, characterized by a reliance on melody and harmonious
interplay over complex runs. Removed from Motown and the flashier production sound
that entailed, the Shirelles were known for possessing a sort of clarion quasi-spirituality,
and on their way to becoming the first female super group they became not only inspirations
for a legion of female groups that followed, but also the supplier of quite a
few standards. Throughout the years their long string of hits have been
recorded by dozens of artists, including the Beatles, Eric Clapton, Dionne
Warwick, Smokey Robinson, the Mamas & the Papas, Aretha Franklin and
countless others.
I don’t know where the question mark in its title went, but this
performance of pointedly pitched nostalgia was recorded live at the Rock ’n
Roll Palace in Orlando, Florida, sometime in 1988, and it comes at a point
where the Shirelles have peaked, certainly, but not diminished nearly as
greatly as one might guess. Putting “Soldier Boy,” “Foolish Little Girl,” “Dedicated
to the One I Love,” two versions of “Baby It’s You,” “Mama Said” and the soaring
title track through the paces, the Shirelles deliver a solid if too-short set
brimming with unadulterated joie de vivre.
Bonus tracks on this DVD include two performances apiece by the Angels (“My
Boyfriend’s Back” and “Til”) and the Dixie Cups (New Orleans jazz standard “Iko
Iko” and Top 10 smash “Chapel of Love”).
Housed in a regular Amray case and presented on a
region-free disc in two-channel Dolby digital, this DVD features an attractive staging
and arrangement of its main course, but no supplemental garnish. Additionally,
the aforementioned “bonus track” inclusions — while quite welcome and certainly
of a piece in terms of genre classification — feel a bit haphazard. Brief
biographical notes or even talking head sketches on the Shirelles would shade
things nicely; certainly there’s room on a disc that barely runs over an hour
as is. B (Concert) C- (Disc)
So I’ve expressed my rage at big screen architects before, and now it seems that Adam Sandler didn’t get enough of the ultimate hot-shit, white-collar, oh-I’m-so-stressed occupation in Click. He’ll be headlining director Adam Shankman’s Bedtime Stories, a fantasy-comedy project which centers around how the life of a busy architect takes a crazy turn when the nighttime tales he tells his niece and nephew start to come true. Vomit. Just… vomit.
It’s been a while since Rattle
and Hum stoked ridiculous criticisms that U2 were messianic rock fabulists
out to somehow co-opt the heritage of American music. Those for whatever reason
still invested in such convoluted detestation will get an extra dimension of
ammunition with the release of this fall’s concert flick U2
3D.
The feature-length film, shot during the band’s visit to South
America on the Vertigo Tour, is directed by Catherine Owens, with
additional direction from Mark Pellington (Arlington Road, The Mothman Prophecies). Produced by Los
Angeles’ 3ality Digital, the movie will appear exclusively
in specialist 3-D cinemas in the autumn, exact date(s) to be determined.
Owens, a longtime collaborator with U2 on live-show visuals dating back to the groundbreaking Zoo TV Tour, predicts U2 3D will startle audiences. “There
is no comparison with a traditional concert film seen in 2-D,” she says. “One
minute you are on stage with the band and the next you are at the back of the
stadium. …The best way I can describe it for the viewer, is that it’s like
being on the wings of a bird flying around the concert stadium — it’s really
something else.”
The 3-D shoot took place over the course of seven shows in Mexico, Brazil, Chile
and Argentina
in February of last year, with Tom Krueger serving as the “conventional” director
of photography and Peter Anderson scoring the title of director of three-dimensional
photography. A wow-za! theatrical trailer has just begun airing alongside 3-D presentations of
Walt Disney’s Meet the Robinsons, but for a two-dimensional glimpse, click here.
A ways into the Q&A, the interviewer points out LaBeouf’s
candidness and asks if he gets shit from his handlers; LaBeouf responds in the
affirmative, in breezily loquacious style: “Sure, picture this whole room full
of reiner-inners. That’s what their job is, and of course I understand that.
And there’s an aspect to me that sort of wants to do the same. Because if you
don’t rein it in, you start losing mystery and sometimes perception is almost
more important than the skill level of an actor. And if you give too much away,
you have nothing to take for yourself and put onscreen. If people feel like
they know you too well, they won’t be able to identify with the character you’re
trying to portray. Or they’ll feel that you’re just playing yourself, and then
you just become a personality actor. And that’s the death of any actor. So this
[gestures at himself] is a representative. This is far too important a conversation,
it’s far too important, for me to be real with you. It’s just too important to
my career, too important to the things that I love. So this right here is just
this representative I’ve created. And I can talk all day in this character, this
is just another form of acting. It’s closer to what I am, but what I am is too
much for any kind of selling of a project. There’s too much money riding on
this interview going well for me to be completely candid. So it’s just a
creation.”
LaBeouf is a mile-a-minute talker who has a way with shorthand
that seems flippant but really isn’t (on being cast in Bobby: “You’re 20 years old — do you wanna go play for the all-star
team? Sure…”), and he can segue between rat-tat-tat promotion (again on Bobby: “This
is not a liberal movie, it’s not specifically about politics, it’s about
ordinary people following extraordinary man. Here was a man with vision who was
a voice for those who were silenced. This was a great person, and that’s the
gist of what the film is about. It’s about relighting that fire in people that
they can have faith in other people — it’s not politic, it’s about hope”) and blunt
biographical distillation, as during one point in a roundtable chat when he described his dad, a
former roadie with the Doobie Brothers, as “a real-deal hippie who still lives
in a teepee in Montana — still.”
He’s a good interview, in other words — obviously preternaturally
bright, but still bristling with the restless discomfort of youth. The most interesting
moment that I had with him was riding up an elevator, on the way to a hotel
hospitality suite. Making a bit of small talk after our scheduled interview, I finally
asked LaBeouf, with a lolling smile, if he could get quite as excited selling a
movie that he didn’t care about as he was about Bobby. From a savvier veteran, one might expect a pithy parry, or
from a more automaton-like newcomer a wide-eyed exclamation along the lines of,
“I hope I never have to!”
LaBeouf’s immediate response, though, was telling, in that,
as in the above Onion piece, he copped to slipping into character for such interviews
— not a lesser representation of himself, or a totally insincere one, but one
tinged with boosterism, undeniably. He had to play-act as his own advocate. It’s the admission that a lot of actors won’t
(or can’t) make. Think what you will of his on-screen talent, but this acknowledgement
(which helps make him a good, always engaged talk show guest, for one) and LaBeouf’s
overall perspective confirm a pretty astonishing grasp, for someone of his age,
of the difficulties inherent in nurturing and maintaining a film career — and the
privilege of such an endeavor.
