Musings on the Golden Globes

First and foremost, those of you who decided to carry the gold (or yellow) theme into your evening wear need to revisit basic black. Ditto on folks with a fondness for forest green, which only works in the forest — or on sports utility vehicles.

Another fashion faux pas — evening gowns with wide clear strips down the center of the torso. Nobody wants to see a dress that reminds them of those weird clear bandages from the local dollar store. Don’t bother being revealing when there’s little to reveal.

If you’ve got to show some skin, try rocking the backless look like Jane Fonda, Jessica Lange and Claire Danes. And call friends ahead of time to color coordinate. More elegant pairings like Tina Fey in strapless raspberry and Jane Lynch in halter-style black would be lovely.

Snaps for Fey and Lynch on another front, by the way. They managed to launch the male body part humor before Ricky Gervais could go there. The self-congratulatory high-five was well deserved, and almost as delicious as Madonna’s retort to Gervais’ vulgar virginity humor.

Steer clear of tomato red lipstick, unless you’re Angelina Jolie — who was half of last night’s classiest-looking couple. Only Jolie could rock those lips while wearing a white gown topped with a similar shade. For the rest of us, playing matchy-matchy with make-up and evening wear is a no-no.

Props to young actors and those who love them. Jodie Foster made sure her two sons got some love from the camera, and the trio of young Modern Family cast members looked amazing as they dashed to the stage together while Sarah Hyland did purple satin proud.

Hooray for films like “Hugo” and “The Adventures of Tintin.” Scorsese and Spielberg remind us all that family entertainment and filmmaking excellence needn’t be mutually exclusive. And that genuine humility leads to gracious speechmaking.

Scorsese took time to honor the fine folks of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association for their ongoing commitment to film restoration and preservation, and confessed that “Hugo” came to be after his wife said, “Why don’t you make a film that our daughter can see for once?” Francesca, he shared, is now 10 years old.

It appears that Harvey Weinstein, thrice dubbed something akin to “the punisher” during Sunday’s ceremony, has been promoted. Still, it’s been a while since the Old Testament made its way into a Hollywood awards show.

The cast of “Downton Abbey,” a rather drearily dressed lot in wartime mode, deserves a most tastefully-dressed cast award. Who knew any of them could get away with wearing bright colors? Their speech described the feeling of ‘spotting a promising child and waking up to discover they’ve won an Olympic medal.’

I learned some things during the ceremony that I might not have discovered otherwise — like the fact that Glenn Close wrote lyrics for “Lay Down Your Head,” a nominated song from “Albert Nobbs” that features music by Brian Byrne.

And while I embrace the message delivered by a woman from Turkey — for ‘peace at home and peace in all the world’ — I’m unclear about why she flaunted the peace sign wearing a white chiffon gown that could pass for pajamas.

When an Iranian filmmaker accepted an award for “The Separation,” he ran through a list of all the things could have said, then opted to ‘just say something about my people’– that “they are a truly peace-loving people.”

Politics always seems to find a way into these ceremonies, but this year’s remarks were mellower than most. Not so for the sexual inuendo, or blatant admissions if you consider Seth Rogen’s remarks about his own aroused anatomy when sharing the stage with a glamorous co-presenter.

“The Help” has taken plenty of heat, but award winner Octavia Spencer made her take clear, referring to Martin Luther King, Jr. as she noted that ‘all labor that uplifts humanity has importance.’ Heavy stuff for a speech that opened with “Nuts!” and shared fears of ‘falling off these high-heel shoes.” Way to rock the lavender, by the way.

A French composer for “The Artist” accepted his award using English translations kept on a piece of paper in his pocket until that marvelous microphone moment presented itself. But first he shared this — “Right now if I were to write a song it would be a tap dance.”

Madonna accepted her best original song award soon after, quipping that she couldn’t claim being French as an excuse for struggling with words. “This is a surprise” was followed by “um” times three — something grammar teachers likely overlooked once she changed “who I adore” to “whom I adore.” Can a coffee table early reader be far behind?

Married actors William H. Macy and Felicity Huffman sang a charming ditty ending with “It’s an honor to be nominated. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah” during their reading of the nominees.

Dustin Hoffman, who’s tied with Meryl Streep on my personal best actors list, thanked his wife and agent for getting him the rattling off nominee names gigs. The crowd shared a collective smile as award winner Claire Danes wiped her ruby red lipstick off his cheek before thanking her parents.

“Any fulfillment I have as a person and an actor I owe to you,” said Danes. Apparently she forgot to thank them her first time around, when she was just 15 years old and starring in “My So-Called Life.” Young actors, take note.

I was charmed by those who tried to pass Meryl Streep her eyeglasses after she’d taken to the podium without them. And her remarks as well — which thanked ‘everyone in England who let me come and tromp all over their history’ and noted that ‘we made this for 25 cents in five minutes.” Streep seemed to embrace fellow nominee Viola Davis from the stage, saying “I love you Viola, you’re my girl.”

A couple of gowns had me suspecting the women who donned them shop in Sedona. It’s really the only place one ought to be spotted wearing a purple muslin-esque gown with chunky two-tiered turquoise-colored earrings, or sporting a blue and white tie-dye number. Okay, maybe Malibu too. I’m told the latter gown was chosen by a toddler.

Parenting issues always find their way into acceptance speeches. One winner noted his mother’s insistence that another person would win, thanking mothers everywhere for helping us to be humble.

I loved watching Steven Spielberg offer a simple “Thank you to Kate, I love you” before blowing his bride a kiss. Another winner’s ode to his Kate carried more baggage. And while Snowy stayed home, Uggie was in the house.

I adored watching “The Artist” winner who’s clearly honored to be following in the film footsteps of his father, who passed away nearly two years ago. And seeing Michelle Williams talk about ‘all the bedtime stories that were read for six months in a Marilyn Monroe voice.’

Nicole Kidman gave no-show and award winner Woody Allen a bit of glammed up grief for not making it to the ceremony. Her waist was a no show as well, and I readily admit to having a serious case of hourglass figure envy.

It appears Gervais has a bad bit of talent, charm and good looks envy in the Colin Firth department, which he translated into tacky tales of punching little kittens. Also issues with Johnny Depp, the first dashing presenter, accused by Gervais of ‘wearing whatever Tim Burton tells him to.’

This year’s Golden Globes ceremony was a mostly-classy affair, with largely predictable results and a few real shockers. Now those of us who relish such things can turn our attention to the Academy Awards and Tony Awards. But please, no more jokes about golfing with body parts.

— Lynn

Note: The Academy Awards will be telecast on Feb. 26 and the Tony Awards will be telecast in June. Click here for more information on the Golden Globes.

Coming up: “Godspell” tales

This post has been updated with corrections that reflect that delicate balance of trying to publish on a topic while people still care. 1/16/12

What’s a parent to do?

A scene from "Carnage" from Sony Pictures Classics

French playwright Yasmina Reza’s “God of Carnage,” which won the 2009 Tony Award for best play, has been adapted for the big screen and titled simply “Carnage.” The screenplay was written by Reza and the film’s director, Roman Polanski. Unlike the original play, which was set in Paris, the Broadway production and film are set in New York.

As the movie opens, children play in a Brooklyn park — and a boy who’s being teased by fellow tweens turns to face them. A slim tree branch he swipes through the air leaves another boy injured, and the film cuts quickly to two sets of parents attempting to smooth over the hurt.

Investment banker Nancy Cowan (Kate Winslet) and corporate attorney Alan Cowan (Christoph Waltz) are parents of the “bully,” while writer Penelope Longstreet (Jodie Foster) and wholesaler Michael Longstreet (John C. Reilly) are parents of the “victim.”

The Longstreets have invited the Cowans to their apartment hoping for some sort of resolution, but obstacles abound. First, Penelope’s fondness for melodrama and martyrdom. Then Alan’s inability to leave work at the office. When Penelope’s apple-pear cobbler doesn’t sit well with Nancy, things get messy.

Penelope cares deeply about everything — from the contents of her refrigerator to the plight of people in Darfur. Alan readily admits to not giving a damn about much of anything. It’s this contrast in characters, and the conflict it creates, that gives the film its bite.

Nearly the entire film, only 80 minutes in length, is shot in real time using just a single set — mainly the Longsteet’s living room. But kitchen and bathroom are sometimes called into service — as are bucket, blow dryer and bottle of Scotch.

Foster describes the film as “a comedy of manners.” Manners dissolve quickly into mayhem as marital spats and misunderstandings spiral out of control. The more civilized these couples seek to become, the more their savagery shines. It’s perfectly pleasurable to watch.

The movie feels faster and sharper than the play somehow. The dialogue feels funnier. The absurdity feels more plausible. The camera allows close-ups that just aren’t possible when watching a play performed on stage. And the movie’s ending has an unexpected twist.

Still, parents leave both play and movie asking similar questions. Were the bully’s actions justified? Should he apologize? What if the apology’s insincere? When can parents lecture other people’s children? How far does the apple (or pear) fall from the tree? Is being a “snitch” a bad thing? Should parents fight their children’s battles?

— Lynn

Note: Although “Carnage” is rated “R” for language, many parents will find it rather mild and feel perfectly comfortable taking their teens (though teens will be less amused than adults by the film’s satirical slant on parenting).

Coming up: More couples behaving badly, My favorite New Year’s message

Neanderthals making nice?

Cast of Arizona Theatre Company production of God of Carnage by Yasmina Reza

There’s a point in the play “God of Carnage” where things take a decided turn, but making it that far into the Arizona Theatre Company production, which I saw on opening night, took some doing. I found myself thinking, “I can’t take any more of these plays about people whining on pristine sofas.”

Soon slurs, swearing and something best left unnamed before the uninitiated start spewing forth — and the story develops at a quickening pace. Still, theater afficianonado Alan Handelsman, who was part of the first class of ASU Gammage Goer reviewers, felt “there was something missing” in the opening night performance.

Handelsman and his wife Anita saw the play a couple of years ago in New York City, and he’s got a clear preference for the NYC version’s vibe — feeling it had more “energy, commitment, rhythm, flow, surprise, pacing, abandon, arc and continuity.” Even simple prop choices, he recalls, gave the NYC production “a much greater sense of impending danger.”

Clockwise: Joey Parsons, Bob Sorenson, Amy Resnick and Benjamin Evett in the ATC production of God of Carnage

The Arizona Theatre Company production was good, says Handelsman, but not great. Despite being surrounded at the Herberger Theater Center by people laughing loud and proud, I’m afraid I have to concur. “God of Carnage” felt a bit of a letdown — perhaps because I went into it expecting so much. “God of Carnage” won the 2009 Tony Award for best play.

Other people whose opinions I respect felt differently. I saw Frances Smith Cohen, artistic director for Center Dance Ensemble, and her daughter Rachel Cohen in the theater foyer after the show, and both praised its artistry. Rachel loved “the writing and directing” and Frances “the contrast in characters.” My own theater baby Lizabeth, who has studied dance with both, would likely take their side.

We talked via “Skype” after I got home from the theater Saturday night, and Lizabeth was shocked when I shared my tepid response to the show. She saw “God of Carnage” in Chicago last year while touring colleges with my husband James. Both remember it being fabulously funny.

Lizabeth described it as “well written and well acted” — and shared that she loved watching the different characters evolve during the course of the story. Seems she was amused by just how “quickly the adults became the children.”

“God of Carnage” centers on two couples’ attempts at a civilized conversation after their sons spar on a playground. “You just don’t expect it to go as far as it does,” reflects Lizabeth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen dad laugh that much,” she recalls. “He totally let loose.”

“Maybe.” she says, “it was his way of letting off steam after all the things that happened when we were little.” Seems she’s observed that the things we sometimes took too much to heart as young parents now fall into more perspective. “You used to take it all so seriously,” she told me. “You guys have learned to let go since then.”

The journey from kindergarden to college does effect profound changes. But the parents in “God of Carnage” have survived only grade school, and the perils of middle school are proving a bit more daunting. After meeting to discuss one boy’s use of a stick and another’s missing teeth, they demonstrate that words are perhaps the worst weapons of all.

The parents who seem so perfectly civilized to begin with soon dissolve into shreiking narcissism and nihilism, something that feels more believable once alcohol enters the picture. I hate to think any of us could trade “nice” for “Neanderthal” so quickly in its absence.

Handelsman, a highly-trained hypnotherapist, says the play reveals “how many different layers humans live in” — showing “the difference between the person we show, and the person we are, and the person we may be afraid we are.” Confronted with the final image in this production, we realize that humans haven’t evolved nearly as far as they imagine.

— Lynn

Note: This original production, directed by Rick Lombardo, is a co-production of Arizona Theatre Company and San Jose Repertory Theatre (which performs it next spring). Yasmina Reza has teamed with Roman Polanski to write the screenplay for a movie titled “Carnage,” directed by Polanski and scheduled for mid-December release. It stars Jodie Foster, Kate Winslet, Christoph Waltz and John C. Reilly. Click here to learn about another opportunity to see the play performed live. Please note that “God of Carnage” contains “mature content.”

Coming up: Advice for young filmmakers, Handelsman shares his “Wicked” ways, Holiday shopping “arts and culture” style, The fine “Art” of Yasmina Reza

Photos: Tim Fuller for Arizona Theatre Company

White noise

Years ago the airwaves were full of infomercials for white noise generators — nifty devices that supposedly produce something capable of drowning out other distractions. I never tried one, though, since sound has been such a profound part of my parenting experience.

I wonder at times whether my children developed their own white noise force fields as teens — because it sometimes felt like everything I said bounced right back to me before making that split second journey from ear canal to brain.

White Noise, A Cautionary Musical is now on stage in Chicago

Recently I learned of a musical titled “White Noise” — currently playing at the Royal George Theatre in Chicago. The news came across my desk with a host of other alerts from the “Teaching Tolerance” program of the Southern Poverty Law Center.

I was disappointed by the timing of my discovery, which came just days after Lizabeth returned from Chicago, though harrowing hamster tales and tidbits she shared about dark moments from another show did serve to slightly assuage my guilt.

Lizabeth saw “God of Carnage” at the Goodman Theatre over the weekend, and even thought to get me a souvenir pen for future writing ventures. She revealed that her dad, not a giggling sort of a guy, laughed throughout — and that they also enjoyed their time together at the Art Institute of Chicago.

After James and I first married in Southern California more than two decades ago, both our homes and his offices were decorated with prints of famous pieces of art — many from the Art Institute of Chicago collection. I imagine he was especially pleased to visit the museum with one of our three children.

“Chicago” is one on a small list of shows he didn’t want Lizabeth to see when it came to the Valley several years ago — fearing she was too young for some of the content. But she’s grown into all sorts of mature-content theater since then.

God of Carnage is part of the 2011-2012 season for Arizona Theatre Company

“God of Carnage” is being mounted next season by Arizona Theatre Company — which Lizabeth expects will do it great justice. And Broadway World reported recently that a film adaptation to feature Jodie Foster and Kate Winslet (as two moms of children who have a bit of a playgound tussle) is in the works.

In the meantime, I’ll be looking for ways to see “White Noise,” which is being produced by Whoopi Goldberg. The cautionary tale is described as “an edgy new rock musical about a white separatist singing duo.” The musical “challenges conventional notions of free speech, media and the power of pop culture.”

An educational guide for working with high school and college age students has been developed by the Southern Poverty Law Center — which says the musical “raises important issues about the power of hate speech in our culture and should inspire people of conscious to call out those who engage in it.”

It feels particularly timely as tragic events continue to unfold in the aftermath of one man’s decision to burn a book held sacred by millions across the globe. Sometimes we fight on the playground, other times on the world stage.

I’m grateful for works like “God of Carnage” and “White Noise,” which help us hear the hate — then work together in peaceful ways to not merely mask it, but to eradicate it from our personal and collective lives.

— Lynn

Note: Scottsdale Community College presents the next film in its “The Many Faces of Hate” film series on April 27, 6:30-8:30pm in the Turquoise Room on the SCC campus (take the 1o1, exit at Chaparral, then head east to land at SCC). The documentary, “Strange Fruit,” will be followed by a moderated discussion.

Coming up: Musings on “Macbeth” from Valley students

Mom/daughter movie night

I don’t get to see my oldest daugher, Jennifer, as often as I’d like now that she’s moved to campus housing at ASU. But yesterday I picked up Jenn, and her giant suitcase of laundry, so she could enjoy the weekend back here at the ranch.

The craftiest of our three kids, Jennifer always comes home with a whole bunch of show and tell type objects — things she’s made, purchased from various artists or found at local thrift shops. (Her Christmas wish list, she tells me, has just a single item: an awl, for making holes in various materials.)

Thursday night’s offerings included an old copy of “The Associated Press Stylebook and Briefing on Media Law.” Seems she’d ripped out the final page, a list of proofreaders’ marks and their usages, and turned it into a work of art. You’ve gotta love a girl who couples grammar with crafting.

Earlier that evening, we’d attended an advance screening of the movie “The Tourist” together at Harkins Theatre Fashion Square 7 at Scottsdale Fashion Square — then used a final bit of time before the stores closed to gather a few essentials. A Build-a-Bear outfit for one of her prized stuffed animals, and two boxes of Paradise Bakery miniature cookies.

We discussed the movie on the way home — and Jennifer shared her dismay that so many people in the film seemed to spend so much of their time turning heads, usually when Angelina Jolie’s character, Elise, entered the room. I wasn’t all that bothered by it, but it did seem her role was reduced in some ways to a sort of three-dimensional paper doll with a very expensive set of paper dresses.

I’m always challenged when expected to think of movie “stars” as the people they are portraying. Jodie Foster makes everything believable — but some other actors, not so much. Yet Johnny Depp loses all his delicious idiosyncracies when he steps into the role of American math teacher Frank.

It’s harder to forget that Elise is Angelina Jolie — due in large measure to the ever-fresh peachy lip gloss that’s there whether she’s powering a getaway boat in the canals of Venice or sleeping alone in a luxury hotel suite. I prefer Jolie in meatier fare — such as “The Changeling.”

Yet Thursday night’s audience seemed to adore this simple cat and mouse affair. There was plenty of laughter, and some audible gasps, as the plot took various twists and turns.

Of course, any movie seems better for being set in stunning European locations — and there’s the fun of trying to translate all that French with only a few years of high school language study more than just a couple of years ago. Jennifer is the family’s best French speaker, so she had the most fun with this aspect of the adventure.

“The Tourist” has so far failed to wow most reviewers, but I actually found the movie quite smart and funny (unlike the 2008 movie “Smart People” which wanted us to believe that calling a dandelion a rose makes it a rose).

“The Tourist” is a sort of James Bond meets “39 Steps.” There are safes to crack, ropes to knot just so and mysterious rendezvous by train and other means. I quite enjoyed the dialogue, much of which is humorous in a way best appreciated by wordsmiths (like those whose children make art from AP style guides).

I also enjoyed the movie’s score — except for the one scene that features vocal performance rather than instrumental fare. It’s over the top, and turns the vibe from passionate to phony. Perhaps I simply failed to appreciate an intended parody of sorts.

In any event, we enjoyed the film from start to finish (despite the creepiness factor of one character who seemed a sort of Hannibal Lecter minus a mask and a fork). It makes for a fun mom/daughter outing, date night or evening with friends — especially when viewed so close to the cookie counter.

— Lynn

Note: Click here to learn more about “The Tourist”

Coming up: Ballet takes a dark turn in “Black Swan”