Posted on July 12, 2008 at 8:00 am
Wall∙E’s curiosity about the world and capacity to feel loneliness is part of what makes him such a vivid character in Pixar’s latest hit. And nothing in the film conveys those qualities more effectively than his affection for the 1969 movie musical Hello, Dolly!
Posted on May 31, 2008 at 8:00 am
Nina Paley, who bills herself as “America’s best-loved unknown cartoonist” is the artist/writer/director behind a smart, funny, visually stunning new animated film called “Sita Sings the Blues.” Paley’s cartoons include “Fluff” (Universal Press Syndicate), “The Hots” (King Features), and her own alternative weekly “Nina’s Adventures.” She animated and produced “Sita Sings the Blues” single-handedly on a home computer. Nina teaches at Parsons School of Design in Manhattan and is a 2006 Guggenheim Fellow.
“Sita Sings the Blues” is a multi-level presentation of the traditional Indian Ramayana saga that includes three different artistic styles, a modern-day parallel based on Paley’s own life, and the songs of 1920’s-30’s nightclub singer Annette Hanshaw. I met Paley two years ago at a reception for women film-makers. We talked briefly about her work on this film and she gave me a business card with a small drawing of Sita. I was delighted to see the film at Tribeca this year and glad to have a chance to interview Paley via email.
What first interested you in the Ramayana saga?
I was living in Triuavndrum, India, where I read it for the first time.
There are at least four different graphic styles in the way the characters in your film are
presented. How would you describe them and what does each one add to the story?
the smooth cartoony style for the Hanshaw numbers, the shadow puppets with collage characters in the background, during the unscripted dialog, the fake miniature Mughal paintings, during the scripted dialog, the expressionistic rotoscoped scene just after the
“intermission.” Each style refers to a different art tradition associated with the Ramayana, and lends itself to the shifting narrative styles as well
The narration of the Ramayana story feels very improvised — how did that come about?
It was improvised.
Who are the narrators?
Friends from India, see here.
Is their contradiction of each other and refinement of each other’s versions intended to match the mix of artistic styles in the visuals?
It’s very natural. They’re all from different regions of India and speak different mother tongues, and grew up on different versions of the story. So naturally they remember “the” Ramayana differently from one another. There is no one Ramayana. Their discussion makes this clear.
Why combine the Ramayana story with the modern-day parallel? In some ways, the stories are very different.
Yes, my story doesn’t involve demons, magic arrows, palace intrigue, or purity. But both stories are about heartbreak, and a peculiar relationship dynamic between a man and a woman, and that’s the aspect of both I emphasized. It’s also what they have in common with the Blues.
How did you select 1920’s chanteuse Annette Hanshaw as the singing voice of Sita?
See here.
Do you think that women directors bring a distinctive perspective and if so, how would you describe it? How would this story be different if told by a man? Or would a man not tell this story?
This story was told by me as an individual. An individual brings their individual characteristics and experience to a story. I happen to be a woman, but I’m a specific woman, not womankind in general. I can’t tell you how other women would direct a particular film, or other men. We’re all unique.
I will say that there are distinctive womens’ tellings of the Ramayana that differ greatly from mainstream (men’s) versions.
In the novel “Heartburn,” Nora Ephron said that she wrote it even though it had some material that embarrassed her because it allowed her to control the story. Would you say that is true for you with this movie? Did you find it validating or vindicating?
I found it therapeutic.
What are you working on next? More animation or will you do live-action as well?
The Muse hasn’t given me my next orders yet, which is good, because I have to be a fulltime producer for “Sita” right now.
What are the distribution plans for the film? Where can people see it?
Watch “Sita Sings the Blues” for free online.
Who are some of your influences in animation and in comics?
Everything I’ve ever seen!
Posted on April 27, 2008 at 8:00 am
They said she gave him sex and he gave her class. In eight heavenly movies from the 1930’s at RKO Studios and then with one more — their only one in color — at MGM, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers danced and sang in some of the most deliciously entertaining movies ever made. We know right from the beginning that these two are destined to be together. But it usually takes them about 90 minutes to figure it out.
One thing they did better than anyone else before or since was to convey the beginning of a relationship through dance. Watch this number from “Top Hat.” As in most of their films, Astaire is already very attracted to Rogers when this scene begins, but she has no interest in him and finds his attentions annoying. As they begin to dance, she sees who he is for the first time and he learns that they are even more right for each other than he had hoped. In most romantic movies, there is some witty repartee to symbolize the deep connection between the couple. But here, it is all done with music (Irving Berlin’s delightful “Isn’t it a Lovely Day to be Caught in the Rain?”) and dance.
Posted on April 18, 2008 at 8:00 am
B+| Lowest Recommended Age: | Middle School |
| MPAA Rating: | Rated PG for some mild language and thematic elements. |
| Profanity: | Some mild language |
| Alcohol/ Drugs: | Drug references |
| Violence/ Scariness: | Sad deaths, loss, illness |
| Diversity Issues: | A theme of the movie |
| Date Released to Theaters: | April 21, 2008 |
In School of Rock
This is not your grandfather’s choir. Instead of singing songs from their youth like “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” or “Sentimental Journey” these old folks tap their orthopedic shoes, tug along an oxygen tank, and slam into the music of their great-grandchildren’s generation. They’ve gone straight from 78’s to iPods, literally without skipping a beat.
It sounds cute. Old people are settled, conservative. They are The Man, aren’t they? There is something deliciously incongruous about very old people singing the songs of very young people.
But it is not cute. Their set list is not soft or easy. No Billy Joel, Neil Diamond, or Beach Boys, no gentle harmonies or catchy melodies. This is raw and angry. They sing hard rock (Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze”), punk rock (The Ramones’ “I Want to Be Sedated”), and blues (“I Feel Good” by James Brown). This is real rock and roll, written to be shocking, provocative, subversive. It is stirring, and deeply moving, finally transcendent. Music videos for songs like Sonic Youth’s “Schizophrenia†and the Talking Heads’ “Road to Nowhere†have a surreal, dream-like quality, good-humored but poignant as they add moments of fantasy and release. The Man they are sticking it to is loss of all kinds.
The movie takes us from the first rehearsals to a sold-out performance in the chorus’ home town of Northampton, Massachusetts. Continually frazzled but continually optimistic choir director Bob Cilman makes no concessions, artistically or generationally. This is not occupational therapy; it is art and it is show business. He insists on a top-quality professional production.
Cilman presents the chorus with Allen Toussaint’s tongue-twistingly syncopated “Yes We Can Can,†which has the word “can†71 times. Form equals content and the medium becomes the message as they struggle to master the intricacies of the song.
Director Stephen Walker’s interviews occasionally seem intrusive, even condescending, but perhaps he, like Cilman, gets a little flustered at the inability to maintain any sense of control over the feisty singers. Early in the film, 92-year-old soloist Eileen Hall flirts with Walker – probably just to keep him off-base, at which she is entirely successful. Hall’s elegant British diction makes the opening lines of the Clash song, “Should I Stay or Should I Go†sound as though she is asking whether we want cream or sugar. But then the song turns into a goose-bump-inducing negotiation with life and death.
Two members who have been very ill, Fred Knittle and Bob Salvini, return for a duet, the Coldplay song, “Fix You.†But Salvini dies before the show. The chorus gets the news as they sit on a bus, about to leave for a performance at a local prison. No one knows better than they do that the show can and must go on.
They stand in the prison yard singing Bob Dylan’s “Forever Young,†voices quavering perhaps just slightly more than usual as they remember their friend. The prisoners are transfixed. Then, at the concert that concludes the film, “Fix You†is performed as a solo by Knittle, his oxygen tank beside him. He sings “when you lose something you can’t replace…I will try to fix you…lights will guide you home†and it is impossible not to feel that these performers understand those words better than the young men who wrote them. And when they nail “Yes We Can Can†it becomes an anthem of defiance, survival, and, yes, sticking it to The Man.
Posted on April 1, 2008 at 8:00 am
Novelty songwriter Ross Bagdasarian noticed that speeding up the audio recordings creatd a high-pitched sound in 1958, and used that technique in his song “The Witch Doctor.” It was a hit. And so, he created the singing chipmunks, Simon, Theodore, and AAAAAlvin. Their record-breaking Christmas song sold four and a half million records in seven weeks — a record not broken until the Beatles — and won two Grammy awards. The high pitch of the voices was the novelty, but what made the record a hit was the relationship between Bagdasarian, who chose the stage name Dave Seville after the Spanish town he had been stationed in during the second World War, and the chipmunks, scholarly Simon, cheery Theodore, and especially mischievous Alvin. It became a franchise, with more records, an animated television series, product endorsements, and “appearances” with real-life rock stars. What was left? A feature-length movie, inspired by the origin story. But any charm in the original idea has been diluted and all that remains is packaging. It is 9/10 product placement, 1/10 filler.
