Category: World at Large

In the Key of X.

“‘I think people will find something in the objects to provoke new levels of interest and new levels of scholarship,’ Howard Dodson, chief of the Schomburg, said in an interview. ‘We’ve consciously tried to stay away from putting a heavy interpretative line on it and to let Malcolm X speak for himself.’” The NYT previews the new Malcolm X exhibit, opening at the Schomburg Center next Thursday.

Welcome to the layer cake, son.

Disgruntled supporters of mutantkind, take heart: X3 is in very good hands. I caught Matthew Vaughn’s Layer Cake this afternoon, and it’s a smart, stylish, and sublimely smooth British crime film that does Guy Ritchie’s Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch one better. Well, ok, Layer Cake isn’t as laugh-out-loud funny as Lock Stock can be at times, but it’s much cleverer than Snatch and, frankly, better-made. And, for that matter, it takes less joy in violence for its own sake than Ritchie’s oeuvre (one grisly scene set to Duran Duran’s “Ordinary World” notwithstanding.) In fact, in terms of tone, Cake is probably more akin to Jonathan Glazer’s Sexy Beast.

Layer Cake centers on cocaine dealer Daniel Craig (burnishing his possible Bond credentials), a consummate smooth operator who treats his criminal enterprise like a business and, as per the usual, is just looking forward to an early retirement around the corner. But his best-laid plans are interrupted by two ugly developments: 1) His boss Jimmy (Kenneth Cranham) enlists him to track down the junkie daughter of even bigger crime-lord Eddie Temple (Michael Gambon, relishing the dark side), and 2) a loose cannon flunky known as the Duke (Jamie Foreman of I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead and Roman Polanski’s forthcoming Oliver Twist) has just rolled in from Amsterdam trying to unload a million doses of Ecstasy (a drug haul with a nefarious history of its own.)

The rest of the movie consists of Craig trying to navigate the increasingly narrow straits between these two troubles, with the occasional aid of muscle Colm Meaney, middle-man George Harris, and a host of other ne’er-do-wells. Essentially, you know the drill — this is a puzzle film in which you’ll have to listen carefully and learn to distinguish between various delinquents with names like Tiptoes, Kinky, Slasher and Shanks. And, while the final few grifts just get a bit too big to be believable, for the most part the story holds together with intelligence and verve, in no small part to Daniel Craig, who’s a magnetic presence here, and Matthew Vaughn, who displays a crisp, confident direction that’s all the more impressive for being showy without ever seeming flashy. To him, his X-Men.

Don’t Fault Yalta.

“Bush stopped short of accusing Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill of outright perfidy, but his words recalled those of hardcore FDR- and Truman-haters circa 1945…Bush’s cavalier invocations of history for political purposes are not surprising. But for an American president to dredge up ugly old canards about Yalta stretches the boundaries of decency and should draw reprimands (and not only from Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr.)” Slate‘s David Greenberg outlines Dubya’s recent mischaracterization of the Yalta conference. Well, Dubya doesn’t even seem to understand diplomacy now, so why would he understand it then?

Kirk has some explaining to do.

Be careful at those conventions, folks…According to a grisly recent LA Times story on the Toronto Sex Crimes Unit’s attempts to curb kiddie porn, “All but one of the [over 100] offenders they have arrested in the last four years was a hard-core Trekkie.” (Others have rightfully cast doubt on this rather dubious claim.)

All’s Blair.

Upon Tony Blair’s third election victory (albeit one that may well lead to his ousting), the WP‘s Dan Balz makes the case that the Dems could learn much from Labor “Blairism”. I don’t think simply moving to the center is the right answer for the wayward Dems — We need to focus less on that type of protective camouflage and more on articulating our own principles, particularly as they differ from those of the GOP, who routinely and as a matter of pride put corporate profits before the American people. Still, there is some food for thought here.

One intriguing passage: “Where Blair, Brown and Labor cannot help the Democrats is on the social issues or the intersection of religion and politics. There is nothing comparable in British politics. Howard tried to make abortion an issue at one point but quickly abandoned it under pressure from all parts of the spectrum. When Blair proposed using the words ‘God bless’ in a speech before the Iraq war, his advisers hooted him down.”

Prize Jury.

Neglected to mention this earlier…but last week, I caught Roundabout’s Twelve Angry Men revival at the American Airlines theatre. As with Streetcar, my basis for comparison is fuzzy — I saw the Henry Fonda film years and years ago. Nevertheless, I’d say this version does justice to the material, and is well worth seeing if you get the chance.

Unlike the star-studded HBO version, this 12 Angry Men works as a great showcase for underappreciated character actors. The most famous face is probably the ubiquitous James Rebhorn as Juror #4, although #7’s John Pankow (a.k.a. Paul Reiser’s brother on Mad About You) and Broadway veteran Tom Aldredge (Clooney’s boss in Intolerable Cruelty) as #9 may also elicit a stir of recognition. To a man, this cast performs admirably, with each actor getting his moment in the sun.

Alas, if the show has a weak link, it may well be Boyd Gaines as Juror #8 (the Fonda role.) In a way, it’s not Gaines’ fault – but the fact that he looks like a cross between Fonda and Jimmy Stewart invites comparisons that redound against him, particularly as it seems at times that he’s actually doing a Fonda impression. [Robert Foxworth (formerly of Falcon Crest), does better in the less-iconic Lee J. Cobb role (#3) — if anything, he reminded me of Darren McGavin.] Still, this is a quibble. In general, 12 Angry Men is an engaging night out (and good mental prep for my own jury duty in a few weeks.)

By the way, I’m on the Roundabout Theatre mailing list, but if any readers out there know the mailer discount codes for The Glass Menagerie, Hurlyburly, Glengarry Glen Ross, and/or particularly Denzel’s Julius Caesar, the information would be much appreciated. 🙂

Delusions of Grandeur.

“Even among many influential conservatives, there has been a growing consensus that the Bush governing theory, at least on Social Security, has been proved wrong.” 100 days into the second term, the Dubya White House starts to realize they may not have received a mandate after all. Meanwhile, on the Left Coast, the Governator is learning much the same lesson.

Ladies and Gentlemen…

Bob at the Beacon, Night 3 (for me) [Monday/Tuesday]:

Maggie’s Farm / To Ramona / Cry A While / Bye And Bye / Ballad Of Hollis Brown / If You See Her, Say Hello / Lenny Bruce / Honest With Me / The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll / High Water (For Charley Patton) / I Shall Be Released / Highway 61 Revisited

Encore: Po’ Boy / All Along The Watchtower

In all honesty, I think this was my least favorite setlist of the three shows (that missed Wednesday gig still haunts me.) Although I did get to hear my favorite song on Love & Theft this time around — “Cry A While” — I generally prefer the Time Out of Mind cuts when it comes to the new stuff. Still, the show wasn’t a bad one by any means, and while my own personal highlights came early in “Maggie’s Farm” and “If you See Her, Say Hello,” it was also nice to hear “Hollis,” “Hattie,” and “I Shall Be Released.” (And even after two previous shows, nine of tonight’s 14 songs were new to me during this Beacon stand.)

So, that wraps up this leg of the Never-Ending Tour…Next up for Dylan: A ball park summer swing with Willie Nelson, which unfortunately won’t be making it to the city. Catch it if you can. (And by the way, if you ever hit up the Beacon for a summer show, dress light. It’s a great venue in terms of acoustics and view, but the air flow in there leaves something to be desired.)

A Failure to Communicate.

“If the president believes what he said, he doesn’t comprehend the nature of either crisis. If he doesn’t believe it and was just reciting the usual grab bag of cliches, what was his point?” As more questions arise about John Bolton’s temperamental fitness for UN ambassador, Slate‘s Fred Kaplan wonders aloud if Bolton’s boss “gets” diplomacy either.