On Your Feet! (Broadway) (2015)

On Your Feet! Is full of concert-level energy. And much of the play is reminiscent of a concert. From the very beginning, the lights surrounding the stage frame shoot out into the audience in different colors. The curtain has silhouettes of fans in the concert pit lining its bottom. Then the curtain is swiftly pulled away to reveal the band on stage banging away at their instruments, sitting on an interesting moving platform that is sometimes in view and sometimes moved behind a wall towards the back of the stage. They come and go throughout the performance.

The first scene is probably one of the strongest from a staging perspective (not so much from a story perspective). We are introduced to the intricacies of the set, including a changing Miami backdrop, moving panels that simultaneously serve as location indicators and places to hide. The first scene is full of characters moving in and out as if by magic, appearing and disappearing behind curtains and walls (and presumably down a trapdoor) And the set pieces move surprisingly quickly.

Newcomer Ana Villafane brings great energy to the role of Gloria and I think she sounded remarkably similar to Estefan. Josh Segarra plays Emilio with a heavy accent that is so good that it is borderline offensive and at times indecipherable. Alma Cuervo as Gloria’s abuela brings some comedy to the show. And the children in the cast are lots of fun. They have quick moving little feet and the little girl has quite a voice.

The story is somewhat lacking. The first act and second acts are polar opposites. The second half takes a more somber tone to depict Estefan’s 1990 accident. The accident is depicted with more bright lights shined at the audience, but I think they could have come up with something more creative (especially after seeing Curious Incident’s take on the London metro system). But I think the show’s greatest strength was in its energy as depicted through fun electric Latin dancing by choreographer Sergio Trujillo, which was unsurprisingly lacking from act two. The story jumps around a lot. It does not dwell on anything quite long enough for it to be impactful, and it skips over plot points and then infers them in hindsight. Though there isn’t too much plot to speak of. At times, it even comes off a little self-indulgent. The message of the story is basically “you’re so great, Gloria” (there’s a whole set piece devoted to it)—well, there’s not much modesty.

It ends like Mamma Mia does (though ABBA does a better job of integrating the songs into the plot) with a medley of energetic songs. These are songs that they couldn’t find a place for in the show, so they’re all sort of just thrown at us in snippets all at once. The song list doesn’t appear in the playbill where it usually does opposite the cast. Instead the songs are listed in alphabetical, not chronological, order after all the cast bios. This, too, contributed to the feeling that it plays more like a concert than a musical.

Cinema Paradiso (1988)

I cannot say enough good things about the beautiful love letter to the movies that is Cinema Paradiso. It is my new personal favorite and I will attempt to delve into why it resonated with me so much. But I have found that it is difficult to describe in words. There is something that is so magical about movies that the images simply transcend language. This is one such movie whose beauty speaks for itself.

I was deeply moved by this movie about love of cinema. I identified with Toto’s lifelong passion for movies. There is an incredible scene in which Alfredo projects a movie on a building in the public square. And the viewer watches the image travel across the walls in a beautiful tracking shot until it finally shoots out the window into the square. Of course, this is all backed by Ennio Morricone’s brilliant melodic score. The love theme has been stuck in my head all week—I particularly like the use of the violin.

Most of the movie is told as a flashback to Toto’s childhood (young Toto is adorable and a surprisingly good actor). This is significant as a major theme of the movie is nostalgia. Alfredo instructs Toto to not look back on the past and he obeys for thirty years. But I think the reason the movie evokes so much emotion is because the movie itself is nostalgic. It is nostalgic for a time in which the entire community gathered at the cinema, when the movie theater was the center of life. It is unabashedly sentimental, but I think stops just short of being too schmaltzy. The story itself isn’t inherently emotional, but the movie preys on the viewers’ own cinephilia. The prime example is the famous final scene. I have watched it back several times, and I have teared up every time. I don’t think there were any tears of sadness throughout the movie (maybe just the sadness that the movie is over and that we actually live outside of the world of film). They are tears of joy. It is hard to describe but I am overwhelmed by the love of movies. And it is incredible.

The King and I (Broadway) (2015)

This is a phenomenal revival of Rodger and Hammerstein's beloved play. Let me start with the costumes. They are gorgeous--both the colorful Siamese garb and Anna's enormous dresses. The costumes along with the set transport the audience to another world. The stage goes very deep back and the center portion of the stage moves out above the pit for full view of the audience. The large green curtain is very regal in between murals of the Siamese statues. The play opens with Anna arriving to Siam via a large ship. It is gigantic and the angles are diagonal to give the ship perspective as it moves out of profile into the audience. It is an epic start to a play of epic proportions. This includes a grand Buddha statue, large shear curtains, and tall moving columns. And of course, the immense cast.

The company does not have too many singing roles, just two numbers. But they present a choreographic challenge in giving everyone something to do on stage. Much of their time is spent kowtowing to the king to simplify this. The size of the company provides lots of roles for Asian actors, which is very welcome in musical theater. This is an important show for providing visibility to Asian actors--I noticed a lot of Filipino, Japanese and Korean names in the Playbill.  However, that is not to overlook the low-key racism present in the play's depiction of the Siamese. The accents are quite exaggerated (Ken Watanabe is a little difficult to understand, but I chalked it off to character and he is always very excitable but he's a stressed out king). And the depiction of their worship of Buddha may or may not be accurate for 1800s Siam, but it seemed a little extreme. But the cast breathes new life into this somewhat outdated play.

The young children are adorable and hilarious. The company puts on a dazzling play within a play, a mesmerizing balletic version of "Uncle Tom's Cabin." And Ruthie Ann Miles as Lady Thiang has a lovely pure voice. The individual performers were really allowed to shine as most of the songs are relatively simple solos, and a couple of duets. Only two numbers involved the whole company. This especially let Kelli O'Hara bask in the spotlight. She is incredible. She has the most brilliant voice and in the non-singing scenes she is also a first-rate actress. I adore her renditions of "Hello, Young Lovers" and "Shall We Dance".

An Andalusian Dog (Un Chien Andalou) (1929)

I loved The Exterminating Angel so much that I wanted to watch this classic short film as well. Professor Roberto Buso-Garcia started his lecture on The Exterminating Angel with the iconic opening scene from Un Chien Andalou. Then he put up the lights and yelled "OH SHIT," putting into words the gasps that escaped from all our mouths simultaneously. "THE CLOUD CUTS THE MOON!" he exclaimed partly sarcastically but also seriously. Of course the shock came from cutting the eye, but the juxtaposition of the two images is such brilliant film technique.

The film doesn't have too much discernible plot, but the scenes have common elements that you recall. It is surreal. And you don't ask why, you just accept that it doesn't matter why. Film is a really wonderful medium for surreal art. I really appreciate Brunuel's and Salvador Dali's wild imaginations.

The Exterminating Angel (El ángel exterminador) (1962)

I thought this movie was incredible. I did not know what to expect, but I discovered a masterful and intriguing surrrealist artist. Brunuel builds anticipation and suspense so skillfully, by dropping in mysteries and refusing to address them for several scenes. Everything is done purposefully, and every bit of dialogue either recalls a previous scene or foreshadows. And the ending is left quite intentionally open to interpretation. I'm not even sure what to think and I still loved it. I looked for symbolism in things that may have none, but it keeps the audience wondering, constantly on alert. I thought it was just pure brilliance.

I first assumed it was a haunted house, playing tricks with the viewer before turning its tricks on the characters. But it soon becomes apparent that there is more to it. The psychological entrapment is so well executed. The idea is so simple and yet so complex. A party that is trapped in a room, except they're not physically trapped. What does it even mean? We as the viewer pick up on hints as to what is going on, and wonder why the characters have not made the same observations. And when finally one does, he pulls back and changes the topic, satiating our curiosity just the minimum amount. And then to the ultimate question he does not answer, leaving you forever wondering--and there is no answer and that is surrealism. 

Kuhle Wampe or Who Own's the World? (1932)

It would be an understatement to say that I did not enjoy this movie. The characters are featureless, the acting is bad, and the plot is nonexistent. Look, I get it. Brecht's distancing effect is supposed to allow he viewer to think clearly without distractions, to just let the thoughts simmer. But I think it also alienates the viewer making the film inaccessible. This call to action to join the Communist movement will fall on deaf ears if you don't give us a reason to want to watch your movie.

A play in four acts, each act is loosely related though they are virtually inconsequential. The opening montage in the first act is well done but that is about the only good thing I have to say. Even the music was strange. It did not really go with any of the scenes. It is un-watchable propaganda.