My Żuławski retrospective continues over at Diabolique, this time with a look at the director's opera adaptation, Boris Godounov (1989).
"In Andrzej Żuławski’s unusual career full of cinematic outliers and revolutionary masterpieces, there is nothing quite like his lone opera adaptation, Boris Godounov (1989). Admittedly, that’s really saying something. Though it’s perhaps surprising that someone who explored the horror and crime genres with as much enthusiasm as he did frenzied romances would also delve into a classical form, but it shouldn’t come as a shock that he would eventually turn to opera. The director was a lifelong theatergoer and music fan; he adapts scenes from Hamlet, Richard III, and Chekhov’s The Seagull in The Devil (1972), L’important c’est d’aimer (1975), and L’amour braque (1985), respectively, and his distinctive use of music, often in collaboration with the composer Andrzej Korzynski, is one of the most singular features of his films."
Finishing reading over at Diabolique!
Showing posts with label musical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musical. Show all posts
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Daughters of Darkness: Episode 6
The fifth episode of the podcast I'm co-hosting is now up!
From the Diabolique site:
In the sixth episode of Daughters of Darkness, Kat and Samm continue on to the third part of their four-episode discussion of the work of director Andrzej Zuławski. They start out looking at Zuławski’s two loose Dostoyevsky adaptations, La femme publique (1984) and L’amour braque (1985). La femme publique, inspired by Dostoyevsky’s novel Demons, follows a young, inexperienced actress who is cast in a film adaptation of Demons and begins a relationship with the controlling director, while political violence and conspiracy erupts around them. L’amour braque, Zuławski’s first film with his long-time partner Sophie Marceau, is an adaptation of The Idiot and focuses on a strange young man named Léon, who gets caught up with a criminal gang and falls in love with the leader’s girlfriend.
Finally, they explore two of Zuławski’s most neglected films, Mes nuits sont plus belles que vos jours (1989) and Boris Godounov (1989). Mes nuits sont plus belles que vos jours again stars Sophie Marceau as a troubled young performer in a traveling psychic act. She begins a complicated relationship with a computer programmer suffering from a disease that affects the language center of his brain. Boris Godounov is a unique musical production in Zuławski’s catalogue and is a particularly frenzied adaptation of Mussorgsky’s classic Russian opera about the disastrous reign of a man believed to have murdered the child of the former tsar.
From the Diabolique site:
In the sixth episode of Daughters of Darkness, Kat and Samm continue on to the third part of their four-episode discussion of the work of director Andrzej Zuławski. They start out looking at Zuławski’s two loose Dostoyevsky adaptations, La femme publique (1984) and L’amour braque (1985). La femme publique, inspired by Dostoyevsky’s novel Demons, follows a young, inexperienced actress who is cast in a film adaptation of Demons and begins a relationship with the controlling director, while political violence and conspiracy erupts around them. L’amour braque, Zuławski’s first film with his long-time partner Sophie Marceau, is an adaptation of The Idiot and focuses on a strange young man named Léon, who gets caught up with a criminal gang and falls in love with the leader’s girlfriend.
Finally, they explore two of Zuławski’s most neglected films, Mes nuits sont plus belles que vos jours (1989) and Boris Godounov (1989). Mes nuits sont plus belles que vos jours again stars Sophie Marceau as a troubled young performer in a traveling psychic act. She begins a complicated relationship with a computer programmer suffering from a disease that affects the language center of his brain. Boris Godounov is a unique musical production in Zuławski’s catalogue and is a particularly frenzied adaptation of Mussorgsky’s classic Russian opera about the disastrous reign of a man believed to have murdered the child of the former tsar.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH

John Cameron Mitchell, 2001
Starring: John Cameron Mitchell, Miriam Shor, Michael Pitt
Hedwig is one of those films I've seen over and over in the last eight years and it always surprises me when I meet people who haven't yet seen it. I recently re-watched it and decided I owed the film a glowing review, just in case another of those late-to-the-game stragglers was reading.
Based on the very successful Off Broadway musical by John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask, Hedwig and the Angry Inch is basically the Rocky Horror of the decade. Transsexual East German Hedwig (John Cameron Mitchell) tours the US singing songs about her trials in life and love. After undergoing a botched sex change operation to escape East Berlin with her American Army husband, she goes through a divorce, struggles to make ends meet, and starts a band. After writing a number of beautiful rock/punk songs, they are stolen by her reluctant teenage lover Tommy, who goes on to be an internationally famous rock star. She responds by touring with her band, the Angry Inch, made up of Eastern European rockers and her spouse, a downtrodden transgendered (this time female to male) back up vocalist. Hedwig spirals out of control but eventually learns some importance lessons about love, identity, and sexuality.
The story is imaginative, the songs are catchy, and John Cameron Mitchell is fantastic. I think the film benefited greatly from the play's long development process, which usually occurred during live performances. It received a lot of critical praise and won a number of important awards, particularly at Sundance, but didn't do well commercially. Big surprise. Middle America doesn't seem to understand transsexuality... or modern musicals.
Though not perfect by any means, the visual world of the film is charming and daring. It literally bursts with color and creativity and makes an acceptable metamorphosis from stage to screen. The costumes and sets are beautiful, as well as the transitions from dialogue to song. The only thing I have a real problem with are the drawings and animations occasionally used to explain back-story. I understand it is difficult to convey the realm of abstract emotional imagination in film, but doing it with drawings feels cheap and unfulfilled (I'm looking at you too, Julie Taymor). The most wonderful scenes of the film are when Hedwig's character addresses the audience directly -- these are moments of wit, humor, and pathos.
Hedwig comes highly recommended. The version I'm reviewing is the single disc New Line Platinum release, which comes with a few tasty special features like deleted scenes and a documentary. I have yet to see Mitchell's last film, Short Bus, though I'm very much looking forward to it, as well as his newest project Rabbit Hole, which bizarrely stars Nicole Kidman.
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