Boston Marathon Blog

I haven't much to say about the Boston Marathon bombing and the ongoing manhunt; I share the shock and anguish of everyone, but from a fairly safe distance. Here though is a piece written by an old high school friend, who participated in the Marathon and missed the bombs by a few minutes. She's far more eloquent on the topic than I could hope to be.

I'll have a new film review up later tonight. I'm hammering away at some longer pieces but they may take awhile to complete; stay tuned.

Best & Worst Super Bowl Ads of 2013: A Rant

Like all sentient Americans I watched Super Bowl XLVII last night. Who doesn't love watching football while gorging on assorted greasy snacks? It was three quarters of lousy football capped by an exciting fourth, which beats most Super Bowls. Suffice it to say that I hate the Baltimore Ravens, but since they didn't beat a team I care about I'm not depressed.

Apparently Beyonce provided a great halftime show. Not that I'd know: halftime is when I do something productive, like take a shower or fold towels. Heck, last year's show had M.I.A. flipping the bird and I still didn't watch. To quote Ahnold, "I'm da pahtee poopah!"

Yes, there was a power outage during the third quarter. It was annoying. The news covering it like the next 9/11 is more annoying.

At least as many people watch the Super Bowl for the commercials as the game. Here's where Groggy proves himself a right cynical bastard. I hate most of these ads, and this year was no different. Lots of time, effort and millions of dollars into 30 seconds of ludicrous, overblown idiocy. I've seen Adult Swim programs more appealing than most of these ads.

In the interest of fairness though, I'll do a Best and Worst list. There were a few spots that didn't make me want to hurl a brick at my TV, which deserves some recognition. Just know I relish the latter far more.

Best Ads:

10. Leon Sandcastle (NFL Network)

Good old Deion Sanders. An insufferably obnoxious player; a surprisingly likeable, self-effacing TV personality. Between this and his DirecTV fairy ads, I've forgiven Deion for his Primetime antics.

9. Morning Run (Milk)

Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson doing what he does best: being funny, self-effacing and badass in a silly context. This sort of humor works better at a minute than 90 minutes though.

8.  Prom (Audi)

This ad doesn't necessarily make me want to buy this car. It does make me want to travel back to high school and French kiss my not-so-secret crush at prom. Too bad she's hiding out somewhere in New England...

7. Asking Amy (Best Buy)

Amy Poehler is a funny lady. That's why this commercial works: it's short, simple, funny and makes good use of a celebrity spokesperson. Paul Rudd and Seth Rogen blathering nonsensically for 90 seconds isn't and doesn't.

6. Team (Hyundai)

This ad starts predictably (a kid is told to "get your own team" by football-playing bullies) then takes a clever turn. No, the kid doesn't assembles a team of conveniently-visiting NFL stars. He gets a juvenile bear wrestler as his placekicker. Bonus points for using Quiet Riot.

5. Happier Than Dikembe Mutombo... (GEICO)

If there were a lifetime achievement award for stupid commercials, GEICO would win for its endless barrage of irritable cavemen, cockney lizards and jabbering swine. So I'm happily surprised they managed a funny spot. See Coke, this is how you do a Super Bowl ad: a simple gag (Mutombo swatting a box of Cap'n Crunch) well-executed. But we're getting ahead of ourselves...

4. Soul (Mercedes-Benz)

Willem Dafoe plays Satan. He could be shilling for Go Daddy and still earn a spot.

3. Love Ballad (M&M's)

M&M's ads have gone a bizarre route the past few years, hinting at sexual relations between humans and chocolates. Now we see the logical conclusion: Red M&M finds out his girlfriend's greatest wish is to eat him! While singing Meat Loaf, no less.

2. Brotherhood (Budweiser)

Give Budweiser credit: their Clydesdale ads are always winners. This touching spot is no exception. Sure it's treacle, but it's well-done treacle. Don't tell me you aren't tearing up at the end

1. Miracle Stain (Tide)

This one's got it all: a clever premise, Super Bowl tie-in, recognizable product and funny payoff. One caveat: while many treat football as a religion, comparatively few worship the 49ers.

Worst Ads:

Now for the fun part. Don't like my choices? Complain in the comments section.

10. Viva Young (Taco Bell)

Two objections: one, Taco Bell's entire demographic is 30 and under, so why the senior focus? Two, most 20 year olds with cast-iron colons can't keep Taco Bell food down for 15 minutes. Pity these poor seniors gulping Taco Supremes.

Strangely, this seems to be one of the most popular ads. Are old people that hilarious?

9. Wonderful Pistachios Get Cracking (Emerald Nuts)

Signs an obnoxiously over-hyped "music sensation" has reached their sell-by date: 1) Glee covers their song. 2) They star in an Emerald Nuts commercial. An MTV reality series can't be far behind for PSY.

8. Party (Pepsi Next)

I lost 30 pounds last year and Pepsi Next was a big part of that. That's my way of saying Pepsi Next is awesome. This lazy, stupid ad is not. 

7. Get In, Get Happy (Volkswagen)

This asinine spot generated unwarranted controversy for "insulting" Jamaicans. The real problem is stupidity. Whether you're from Kingston or Massapequa, no one talks like Bob Marley unless they're baked. If that be the case, kiss your job goodbye, mon! Worse, I didn't even remember what was being sold - the sure sign of a bad ad.

6. Fashionista Daddy (Doritos)

Admittedly, I had trouble finding laughs in transvestites playing with little girls right after watching The Damned. Regardless, men wearing frilly things has long since supplanted the pun as comedy's nadir. Witness ABC's Work It. Witness this ad. To quote Bobby Hill, "Cross-dressing's been done." Apparently Doritos didn't get the memo.

5. Save It (E-Trade)

The e-Trade babies aren't funny, period. They weren't funny in 2008, they aren't funny now. Come to think of it, CGI-lipped talking babies weren't funny in Baby Geniuses or Baby Bob, either. It's never funny. It's creepy. Stop for the love of God.

4. Space Babies (Kia)

More babies, plus cute animals, wrapped in higher-grade CGI than Prometheus and a nonsensical premise dreamed up on a millionaire's bar napkin. Another popular ad, though this one's more explicable: everyone's had "the talk" with their kids. And everyone loves astronaut babies and thumbs-upping panda cubs. Everyone except Groggy, who hates overpaid ad execs trying too hard.

Of course, I actually drive a Kia. The last thing I'm thinking about while skidding around the snow-encrusted back roads of Pennsylvania is space penguins on a baby planet.

Speaking of astronauts... 

3. Lifeguard (Axe Apollo)

 

Note the warning that this is a "fictionalization." So there wasn't really a lifeguard who gill-punched a shark, rescued a beach babe and then got cock-blocked by a nerd wearing Buzz Aldrin duds? Damn, thanks for shattering my illusions Axe!

P.S.: This is a deodorant ad. Please explain how I'm supposed to know that.

2. Perfect Match (Go Daddy)

What sort of troglodytic horn dog does Go Daddy market to, exactly? Their entire campaign is a slobbering monument to the kind of male chauvinism that went out with bell bottoms. As a male, I'm offended by the notion that I'm only interested in scantily-clad women. As a nerd, I'm offended by the notion that smart equals fat and ugly. As a functioning human being, what the hell is this garbage? Here's hoping a mob of angry feminists burns down their corporate headquarters.

1. Mirage (Coca-Cola)

This commercial epitomizes everything wrong with Super Bowl ads: pointlessly contrived, needlessly expensive and profoundly unfunny. I can just imagine Coke's ad department brainstorming this:

"Okay, we need a Super Bowl ad. Ideas, guys? Bob, you watched Mad Max last week right? Tina, you wanted to be a Rockette when you were little, so here's showgirls driving a bus. Groggy, you won't shut up about T.E. Lawrence, so here's an Arab with a camel. Cowboys, those are popular right? How about they're racing each other? How wacky! And it will only cost enough to feed Zimbabwe for a year!

"Um, guys? Where are you going? Why are you all printing your resumes?"

This plays out exactly like it sounds: a jumble of bizarre, nonsensical ideas spewed forth Katyusha-style in hopes of triggering a laugh and rampant Coke buying. My reaction?

Look, Coca-Cola could run 30 seconds of polar bears crapping without denting their market share. You don't need to put this much effort into being stupid, guys. And that goes for all of you.

Best & Worst Books Read in 2012

This year Groggy looks at his best and worst 2012 reads. Usually I post these lists on Facebook, since this is after all a film blog. But glitches in Facebook's Note system deleted at least one of my previous lists, so this seemed a safer alternative.

Despite having a full-time job (and hence next to nil free time) I still managed over 100 books this year. Sure, many of them were re-reads, which is why you won't see any Flashman books on this list. And yeah, a handful of Goosebumps books pad out the list. So it's not like I'm reading Crime & Punishment 100 times. Still it's enough for a list.

Anyway, without further adieu:

Best Ten Books Read in 2012:

Groggy reads 99% percent history and other nonfiction these days. Back in college of course there was more time and hence more variety of subjects; now I have to be pickier. Nonetheless, even within this narrow confine I found a lot of worthwhile books this year, a few classics and a few recent volumes.

10. Gertrude Bell: Queen of the Desert, Shaper of Nations - Georgina Howell

Gertrude Bell is a truly remarkable woman: Alpine adventurer, explorer, archaeologist, Arabist, intelligence operative, Middle East Kingmaker. Howell's sprawling biography does her justice. The book explores Bell's myriad talents, unique, vivacious personality, her personal frustrations and public achievements. Its main success, perhaps, comes in illumniating an incredible personage shamefully overlooked.

9. Dark Continent: Europe's Twentieth Century - Mark Mazower

 

Mazower's provocative book eschews traditional 20th Century narratives for barbed analysis of European politics. His sociopolitical dissection points up uncomfortable facts: the differences between Nazism and "old right" Fascism, appeal of totalitarian movements to interwar Europeans, Stalin's remarkable economic achievements coupled with political oppression, Thatcherism's inherent unworkability, the USSR as Europe's last traditional empire. Mazower's chapters on Nazi imperialism and internationalist idealism presage more recent volumes. The European Union has proven more successful than Mazower suggests, but the book remains a remarkable volume.

8. Bloom County: The Complete Collection, Vols. 1-2 - Berke Breathed

Berkeley Breathed's brilliant '80s satirical comic strip, part Doonesbury and part Calvin & Hobbes, now comes in beautifully-packaged compilations, complete with Breathed's commentary. True, many jokes are very dated: who remembers James Watt or Joan Jett? But Breathed's playful art, lovable characters and colorful sense of humor remain timeless.

7. The White Nile - Alan Moorehead

Aussie author Moorehead was a brilliant narrative historian, mixing colorful prose with a warm human touch. Moorehead chronicles European exploration and exploitation of the Nile, the 19th Century's greatest frontier. His subjects are a diverse lot: the contentious Richard Burton and John Hanning Speke, the glamorous adventure couple Stanley and Florence Baker, Henry Stanley and Dr. Livingstone, the messianic Mahdi, the enigmatic Gordon of Khartoum. Moorehead ties them splendidly together, crafting a vivid, compulsively readable epic. His complementary volume The Blue Nile is a bit sloppier but also highly recommended.

6. A Line in the Sand: The Anglo-French Struggle for the Middle East, 1914-1948 - James Barr

Much has been written about Britain and France's conniving to divide the post-WWI Middle East. Less often told is the resultant imperial rivalry. In this fascinating chronicle, Barr analyzes the fissures in the Anglo-French alliance, as the two powers jealously jockeyed for power, influence and oil. Both powers used regional nationalism, be they post-war Arab movements or the rising tide of Zionism, to undermine each other, with disastrous results. Barr's account is lucid, eye-opening and compellingly written.

5. The October Country - Ray Bradbury

The literary world lost a giant with the passing of Ray Bradbury. This story collection is one of his best, here leaning towards overt horror. Some of Bradbury's scariest stories are here: the killer baby of "The Small Assassin," the pitiless fate of "The Scythe," the shocking image which concludes "Skeleton." For Bradbury fans whose tastes skew darker, this is invaluable.

4. The Fiery Trial: Abraham Lincoln and American Slavery - Eric Foner

Foner delivers an invaluable account of Abraham Lincoln's views on race. In Foner's view, Lincoln underwent a painful personal evolution, from a "moderate" Whig accepting white supremacy while restricting slavery's spread, to an abolitionist advocating resettlement of freed blacks, to a full-throated advocate for equality. Honest Abe comes off as extremely flawed but admirable, seeking to sublimate his prejudices to the greater good. Foner treats Lincoln with admirable delicacy, avoiding modern value judgments to show a statesman both very much of his time, yet undeniably revolutionary.

3. The Siege: The Full Horrifying Account of the Kut Disaster - Russell Braddon

Braddon's account of the Siege of Kut bests even Woodham-Smith's The Reason Why as a study in military failure. Braddon seethes with anger at this masterpiece of mismanagement, when arrogant British generals sent 6th Division to do an army's job, underestimating logistics and numerically-superior Turkish opponents. At book's center is Charles Townshend, a self-proclaimed genius who launched a disastrous campaign against impossible odds, trapped his division in a disease-ridden village, panicked his superiors into ill-advised rescue attempts and enjoyed a cushy captivity while his men endured forced labor. True, it's not objective: Braddon makes his contempt for Townshend plain, and his own POW experiences color his empathy for the soldiers' plight. Faced with a craven villain like Townshend though, who could blame him?

2. The Destruction of Lord Raglan: A Tragedy of the Crimean War, 1854-1855 - Christopher Hibbert

For readers unwilling to slog through Kinglake's nine-volume history, this is the best popular account of the Crimean War. Hibbert gives a brilliant grunt's-eye view of the conflict, mixing blow-by-blow battle accounts with the terrifying monotony of life in the trenches. His main point, that Lord Raglan's been unfairly smeared from 1855 onwards, is highly debatable; Raglan still comes off as a decent man with no business leading an army. Contextualizing his performance amidst bureaucratic muddle, poor weather and a military completely unprepared for a major war makes it more understandable, and Raglan himself sympathetic.

1. Empire of Liberty: A History of the Early Republic, 1789-1815 - Gordon S. Wood

Wood's entry in the Oxford History of the United States never fails to impress. It's a truly remarkable tome, overwhelming the reader in its sheer breadth and depth. Wood touches on every conceivable topic - the rise of evangelical religion, women and minority roles, attitudes on slavery, the contrast between America's high ideas and low culture - with skill and sensitivity. He couples these microhistories with shrewd analyses of the Federalist-Republican split, Hamilton's financial system, the Revolution's international impact and the Republic's hesitant early foreign policy. A masterpiece.

Honorable mentions: Glory Road (Catton), The Arab Awakening (Antonius), Quartered Safe out Here (Fraser), (Kabaservice), The Great Anglo-Boer War (Farwell), Founding Brothers (Ellis), The Fierce Pawns (Macrory), Rule & Ruin: The Downfall of Moderation and the Destruction of the Republican Party (Kabaservice)

Worst Ten Books Read in 2012:

I also found time for some truly wretched works. Their sins range from sublimating history to a political agenda, to tackling an impossible subject, to intellectual laziness and sloppy construction, to just plain bad writing. And yes, there's an R.L. Stine book included.


10. Chitral Charlie: The Rise and Fall of Major General Charles Townshend - N.S. Nash

This biography sets about the thankless task of rehabilitating Townshend, the antagonist of Kut. Soldier-turned-journalist Nash tries his hardest to be fair, approaching his subject with brusque humor and inside knowledge of armed forces social climbing. For all Nash's pleading, Townshend still comes off as an arrogant twit who needlessly sacrificed his men in pursuit of selfish glory. Not a bad book, just a fatally misguided one.

9. The Crimean War: A Reappraisal - Philip Warner 

After reading some really great Crimean War histories this year - not only Hibbert but Orlando Figes' The Crimean War - it was inevitable I'd find a bad one. Warner presents interesting arguments that our understanding of the Crimea is flawed, and that it was really a success and credit to the Anglo-French-Turkish alliance. Unfortunately they're couched in a dull, dry, meandering book that becomes too saturated in details to see the big picture. When a 200 page book takes four months to read, it probably hasn't succeeded.

8. Three Empires on the Nile: The Victorian Jihad, 1869-1899 - Dominic Green

One of the pitfalls of narrative history is it forsakes analysis for storytelling. Woe then to the historian who can't tell a story. Green ties together several related topics - the collapse of Khedivist Egypt, Urabi Pasha's nationalist coup d'etat, the Mahdist Wars. Unfortunately he presents each story in spectacularly superficial and uninteresting fashion, providing zero insight into this epochal clash of imperialism, Islamism and nationalism. Attempts to equate the Mahdists with al-Qaeda do its author no credit, either. With so much ink spilled over the Mahdi already you're well-advised skipping this one.

7. Military Blunders: The How and Why of Military Failure - Saul David

There are some things you don't expect from a book written in 1997 and reprinted in 2012. For instance, the author referring to Russians as "Asiatics of low intelligence." Or repeating the canard that Singapore fell to Japanese troops because all its guns faced the sea. Or confusing Matthew Ridgeway with Maxwell Taylor. Even the accurate bits are just regurgitation of Geoffrey Regan's work - pretty damning in and of itself, considering Regan's been recycling himself for years. A shame as I enjoyed David's biography of Lord Cardigan.

6. Kingmakers: The Invention of the Modern Middle East - Karl E. Meyer & Shareen Blair Brysac

Ostensibly a look at how British and American policymakers shaped the last 150 years of Middle Eastern politics. In reality it's a scatter-shot, meandering collection of biographical essays, some scarcely connected to the topic. Fiona Shaw and Lord Lugard are interesting figures but how on Earth do they relate? Last time I checked South Africa wasn't part of the Middle East. A longish chapter on the CIA in Beirut rambles without divulging any points-of-interest. Chapters on T.E. Lawrence, Gertrude Bell and Paul Wolfowitz border on superficial. The book's only interesting in the margins, and the margins aren't worth it when most of these figures have biographies of their own.

5. Planet of the Lawn Gnomes - R.L. Stine

Picking on Goosebumps books, especially the new Horrorland series, is like shooting fish in a barrel. But childhood nostalgia compels me to read them, so here we are. Glance at the title and spend about 30 seconds shaping a story around it. You've given it more thought than R.L. Stine did.

4. The Meinertzhagen Mystery: The Life and Legend of a Colossal Fraud - Brian Garfield

Novelist Garfield vindictively destroys Richard Meinertzhagen, one of England's most eccentric heroes of the 20th Century. He's admittedly convincing in spots, deflating some of Meinerzhagen's more egregious anecdotes (the "Heil Meinertzhagen" silliness) and showing him an ornithological fraud (an argument made before). But Garfield goes beyond into extreme nuttiness, for instance hinting with Glenn Beck-ish "just asking questions" delicacy that Meinertzhagen murdered his wife. It's a tiresome screed, bloody-minded in its willingness to promote any nonsense that reflects negatively on its subject.

3. American Conspiracies: Lies, Lies and More Dirty Lies that the Government Tells Us - Jesse Ventura

This semi-literate rant, courtesy of America's favorite wrestler-turned-politician, is more funny than offensive. While reading, I couldn't help remembering Ventura's appearance as a Man in Black (with Alex Trebek!) on The X-Files. "Mr. Ventura, your scientific illiteracy makes me SHUDDER!"

2. The Politically Incorrect Guide to the British Empire - H.W. Crocker III

The PIG Guides never cease to amaze with their vacuous demagoguery. Groggy readers know I'm an unrepentant Anglophile, but even I blanch at Crocker's high Victorian jingoism. Given the plethora of recent pro-empire books by Niall Ferguson, Lawrence James and Saul David its premise of an intellectual conspiracy to slander Britain is dubious to begin with. But Crocker's reactionary racial and political attitudes - calling the Irish "shiftless, ignorant, stubborn, contumacious and cruel," deeming the Maori genocides "fun with muskets," claiming the Opium Wars a "defense of free trade" - are shocking in a book published last year. All wrapped in a smug, self-satisfyingly contrarian attitude that reflexively deems dissenters part of a liberal-Marxist-Muslim conspiracy to hide the truth. Charming.

1. The Real Lincoln: A New Look at Abraham Lincoln, His Agenda and an Unnecessary War - Thomas DiLorenzo

This mendacious piece of garbage makes the PIG Guide look like Sir John Fortescue. Not only does it slander America's greatest President to promote an extremist neo-libertarian agenda; that would be obnoxious enough. But it's painfully obvious that DiLorenzo is a hack who can't even keep his propaganda straight. He arrogates states the right to secede and repudiate the Constitution, then chastises Lincoln for claiming seceded states outside Constitutional protection. He claims that Lincoln ignored chances for "peaceful abolition" when the South rejected precisely that. Or selective facts: He cites Andrew Jackson as a guru of small government, ignoring how Jackson overrode the Supreme Court re: expelling the Five Civilized Tribes, or his decidedly Unionist reaction to the Nullification Crisis. Or brazen lies, like saying the Emancipation Proclamation didn't free a single slave. Or paranoid rants about the "Marxist" Lincoln cult. The result? A book that commits every conceivable sin: it's poorly argued, ideologically slanted, inaccurate and painfully unreadable.

An equivalent film-related list will come in the next week. There are still some year-end theatrical releases to catch so stay tuned!

Ben Shapiro is a Big Honking Doofus

Ben at work on his latest piece: "How Liberals Crushed My Nose"

One-tenth score years and nine months ago, I first encountered Ben Shapiro. He made his bones with gasbag Andrew Breitbart's Big Hollywood, squawking about "liberal Hollywood" and showing a complete ignorance of cinema, logic and Strunk & White's Elements of Style. I made a punching bag out of this preening douche nozzle twice (here and here) before moving on to more productive blogging.

Over the weekend I encountered Mr. Shapiro on Front Page Magazine, the neocon hate rag whose raison d'être is assuring readers that a) all Muslims everywhere are out to get us, b) universities are hotbeds of Communism, c) David Horowitz regrets blowing his parents' money on pot in college. In other words, the perfect place for an aspiring crank like Ben.

(Oops, I just violated my political gag order. Offended readers need not read further.)

Ben's latest piece, The Left's Lincoln, is a model of vacuity. Ostensibly previewing Steven Spielberg's upcoming Lincoln, he displays a remarkable ignorance of history, movies and politics in an article he likely hammered out in 20 minutes. Even if you're expecting an article on liberal misuse of Lincoln iconography, you'll be disappointed.

Ben starts off expressing disgust at "radical gay leftist Tony Kushner" writing the screenplay. It's hard to know what disgusts our Michael Medved wannabe more: Kushner's politics or his sexual orientation. Nice of Ben to set the tone immediately.

For an article with that title, you might expect a historical analysis of Lincoln as conservative. Right wingers love to crow about the GOP's laudable early history as an abolitionist "free soil" party and protector of freedmen. (Or most do: a certain strand of libertarian/paleoconservative thought views Lincoln as a repressive tyrant.) Easy subject for an article, right?

Ben does write politics in his spare time, so he's (theoretically) qualified to opine. What does his political/historical analysis amount to? Responding to a Spielberg quote about the GOP and Democrats changing sides on racial issues, Mr. Shapiro writes:

"Well, actually, it’s not a whole other story. Because it’s not even close to a true story. The Republican and Democratic Parties never “traded political places.” Racism is still the preserve of the Democratic Party, which utilizes skin color as a political tool; color-blindness is still the preserve of the Republican Party. There is a reason that Senator Robert Byrd (WV), a one-time member of the KKK was considered the Democratic conscience of the Senate until his death in 2010. There’s a reason segregationists like George Wallace were Democrats. The Democratic Party never flip-flopped with the Republican Party. It just hid its racism beneath a veneer of reverse racism."

There's so much gaping illogic here I don't know where to start. The Democratic Party had a long and shameful history of endorsing slavery and segregation. This however was put paid by Democratic Presidents ushering through the Civil Rights Act and related legislation in the '60s. When millions of conservative Democrats fled the party, Barry Goldwater and Richard Nixon eagerly snatched them up by campaigning on identical "States Rights" arguments. It shouldn't need said which party currently invokes states rights in arguments over gay marriage, abortion and government bailouts. The idea that the GOP and Democratic Party hold identical positions to what they did 50 years ago, let alone 150, is simply ludicrous.

Further, Byrd and Wallace both repudiated racism late in life. This stands in contrast to, say, Strom Thurmond, who switched parties over Civil Rights and never offered more than a token recantation. The comment about "racism beneath a veneer of reverse racism" is a masterpiece of doubletalk. And a member of a party who's spent the last four years caricaturing the President as a Kenyan Muslim Communist cannot claim "color-blindness" without seeming idiotic.

The rest of the article drops even this modest line of historical inquiry. Ben doesn't argue whether Lincoln was a liberal or conservative. Instead, he bashes Spielberg's filmography, saying for instance:

"A film like Saving Private Ryan puts an antiwar gloss on the most pro-human rights war in the history of humanity. When the character Sgt. Horvath explains, “Someday we might look back on this and decide that saving Private Ryan was the one decent thing we were able to pull out of this whole godawful, shitty mess,” that’s a pathetic statement given that this conflict was about defeating the worst threat to humanity and humane values ever unleashed."

Shapiro, have you even seen the movie? Saving Private Ryan is possibly the purest embodiment of Greatest Generation cultural iconography. One line taken out of context, arguing that war is a nasty experience, is used to argue a movie is "anti-war." Go play with your plastic army men, Ben.

"A films [sic] like Amistad, which revolves around a slave revolt aboard a Spanish ship and the subsequent trial in the United States — portray white abolitionists as selfish folks out for themselves."

Or it's recognition that not everything is (geddit?) black and white. After all, wouldn't you expect evil progressive Spielberg to show abolitionists as faultless heroes?

Jeez, look at that. I don't even like Amistad and Ben's got me defending it. Nice job.

 "In The Color Purple, Spielberg portrays Africa as a grand sort of multicultural place, while the United States is steeped in darkness."

I'll admit I haven't seen The Color Purple. I do remember Amistad showing Cinque and his tribe kidnapped by black slave traders.

"In Munich, the real bad guys are terrorist hunters rather than terrorists – and Israel is so scarred by terrorist hunting that Israelis must move to the United States and abandon their country for absolution."

It does no such thing. Munich shows its heroes dehumanized by a multi-year campaign of assassinating Palestinian terrorists. That is not portraying them as "the real bad guys" unless you inhabit the Manichean mind of a FPM scribbler.

In the Spielberg world, America is the target; only “progressive” forces, reflecting the pacifist, multicultural tendencies of the filmmaker, can cure America of its ills.

What exactly is this Ben? Movies should portray slavery and Jim Crow in a positive light? All war movies should reflect Gunga Din's childhood game mentality? Did you miss the literal flag waving at the open and close of Saving Private Ryan? And didn't you just note that Amistad portrays its "progressive forces" in a dubious light?

To repeat: Ben wouldn't know consistency if it crawled up his rectum and died.

Spielberg, ironically enough, ignores the gory, ugly, beautiful tapestry of the history of the United States page by page – a true story that would bring to light unique and fascinating elements of human nature.

QED. Above, Ben apparently doesn't think negative aspects of American history should be portrayed on film. So what "ugly" and "gory" aspects does he now want included?

We'll never know. Rather than elaborate on the above paragraph, Ben segues into...

"Spielberg's history... is the story of “progress” toward today’s Democratic Party. John Quincy Adams from Amistad would be a Clinton voter; Lincoln would be a fan of Obama;"

I agree that it's morally dicey, at best, to use historical figures as avatars for contemporary causes. On the other hand, Lincoln and Amistad are works of fiction. I doubt Ben has a problem with Glenn Beck or Bill O'Reilly using dead presidents in ostensibly non-fiction books to parrot modern conservatism.

"by the end of Munich the protagonist would want to sign up for a tour with the Gaza Flotilla."

It wouldn't be a FPM article without insulting Muslims.

To recap: Badly written? Check. Politically and historically ignorant? Check. Vague and unsubstantiated analysis? Check. Comments on movies that give no indication he actually saw them? Definitely. Wildly inconsistent? That's a bingo! It must be a Ben Shapiro.

Groggy tries not to be overtly political save for extreme circumstances. But this articles intertwines three issues I feel passionate about: movies, history and decent writing. So I feel justified in spouting off, just a little. Ben, please join Armond White in the piranha pool.

"Whether you're a Democrat or Republican, Kurosawa buff or Chris Nolan fan, the one thing we can all agree on: Ben Shapiro is a BIG HONKING DOOFUS!" - Dan Rydell

New movie review tomorrow.

The Miracle is Accomplished: Seeing Lawrence of Arabia in Theaters

What do you mean "no outside snacks"?

I first saw Lawrence of Arabia on a small television, on AMC in pan-scan and with commercials. It didn't make much impression on me. Sometime in 2005 I revisited it on DVD and fell in love. For me, it encapsulates everything cinema can accomplish: great acting, cerebral writing, a fascinating hero, exciting action scenes, breathtaking music and of course, incomparable photography. I must have seen it at least a dozen times since: on video, television, even split up over three nights mini-series style. Yet until Thursday I hadn't viewed Lawrence in its true format: the big screen.

I've spent a lot of time analyzing the film lately, so let's not waste time doing that. This post will be mostly personal, with some discussion of its technical presentation. After all, you don't see your favorite movie in theaters every day.

* * *

I was ecstatic, to say the least, to hear Lawrence would get a one-day theatrical release. As early as August I started making plans. Any theaters within ten hours' drive showing it? Yes, the AMC Loews at the Homestead Waterfront! Now can I get off work in time to see it? Should I bring friends? Would a meteor strike Pittsburgh that day?

I convinced three friends to join me, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. I purchased our tickets a month ahead of time. I managed to convince my employer to let me leave work two hours early. I even printed an event t-shirt from Cafe Press. Needless to say, it was a big deal.

October 4th was an immaculate day: sunny, low 70s, fall foliage dotting the landscape. I arrived with my friend Greta at the Waterfront around 6:00. There we met Pittsburgh denizens Joe and Dan for a quick supper. Inevitably, we argued about politics for awhile while scarfing down Bar Louie boneless wings. Unfortunately, supper caused us to be a mite late and we settled for left row seats. The theater was surprisingly full, the audience divided about even between older viewers and 20-30 year olds.

Fandango treated us to several "special features." First an interminable featurette by Martin Scorsese, which managed to blow every big shot, memorable line and plot point in about ten minutes. Even having seen Lawrence many times I resented it. Then some vintage newsreels and a short Omar Sharif introduction. Then the Overture came crashing down and the film began.

First, the restorers did a fine job. Projected in 4K digital, Lawrence really shined. Almost every shot was clear, colors and details jumping off the screen. I appreciated many details I'd missed before. The first helicopter shot of the Arab army on the move, barely making out the camels' tiny legs. Lawrence appearing as a black pinprick when returning with Gassim. The richly ornamented walls, with Roman statuary and Grecian wall murals, in Allenby's Jerusalem HQ. A mounted Arab riding into the town hall amidst the chaos. Anthony Quinn's unfortunate nose. These observations incomparably enriched my experience.

Details are one thing: the overall experience another. I've always enjoyed the desert photography aesthetically, for its beautiful composition. Seeing it in theaters though was a revelation. Lean's mis-en-scene of impassible sand flats, vast craggy canyons looming overhead, and ever present sun prove powerfully immersive. My jaw dropped on the Wadi Rumm reveal: the blaring music, the mammoth red cliffs and the endless expanse of tents. Needless to say the battles were amazing, especially the charge through Aqaba.

A few gripes, some probably the theater's fault. In a few scenes, the frame seemed either cropped or compressed. The soundtrack sounded dim in spots (though not during action scenes, thankfully). In a few scenes (but not many), there was some fuzziness in background details. The day-for-night scenes also seemed over-corrected. Some of the awkward edits and splicing from the '89 restoration remain, especially Bentley's introduction. These were very minor blips though in an otherwise impressive showing.

Watching Lawrence with an audience was something else. I've always watched this movie alone, or with my dad on one occasion. Lawrence invokes feelings of near-religious contemplation, interrupted by bathroom breaks. My general reaction is one of awe and amazement, being bowled over by beautiful photography and brilliant acting.

An audience, on the other hand, wants to be entertained. Initially I was concerned as my fellow viewers laughed and as my friends talked next to me. As the movie went on though, I realized everyone else was engaging with it as they would The Avengers or The Dark Knight. Groggy got the hint: lighten up and enjoy the show.

Certainly the audience enjoyed it. They laughed at all the right moments: Lawrence's sparring with General Murray, Auda's reaction to Lawrence flouncing in his robes, even some of Farraj and Daud's antics. Some scenes did inspire the expected awe, especially Ali's entrance at the well. From their reactions (and chatter during intermission), one could tell they liked Lawrence, were immersed in the desert and enjoying the adventure.

As the second half got darker the audience shifted accordingly. The Deraa scene stood out in this regard. Its plot importance (and Jose Ferrer's marvelous acting) aside, it's not the scene that comes to mind when I remember Lawrence. Yet for the whole five minutes you could hear a pin drop. I can't remember experiencing such palpable tension from any scene in a theater. There were audible expressions of shock and disgust during the massacre, especially Lawrence gazing at his blood-soaked dagger. One really registered the ending mixture of tragedy and emptiness, too.

My friends certainly enjoyed the film. They were intrigued enough to pepper me with questions about the movie's accuracy and clarify Lawrence's motivations (so much as anyone could). Most of their favorite scenes came from the first half: Ali at the well, Gassim's rescue, the charge on Aqaba. Dan seemed intrigued by the military/political aspects, while Joe appreciated the desert scenery and symbolism of Lawrence's costume. Greta noted the movie's lack of romance and its thematic depth. They did however criticize its portrayal of the Bedouin.

All named Lawrence as a major factor in their enjoyment. Remarking on the last scene, Dan noted the tragedy of Lawrence's inability to join Arab culture or fulfill his dreams. Greta found Lawrence's complex and enigmatic personality the movie's most memorable aspect. I'd imagine Lawrence's fascinating protagonist accounts for its enduring popularity as much as its spectacle.

In sum, I'm happy to have finally seen Lawrence of Arabia in theaters: scratch one item off the list. Additionally I'm glad to see it has the power to move a contemporary audience, enough for them to applaud over the end credits. I overheard two college-aged girls, of all people, saying "they don't make movies like this today!" I couldn't agree more.

* * *

That concludes this round of Lawrence-related articles. I thank my readers for indulging me the past few weeks; if you've learned something through these posts, all the better. Stay tuned for insights and reviews of other films soon.

PS: If any readers saw Lawrence on Thursday, please share your experience in the comments section!

Previous posts in this series:

• Another Lawrence: Terence Rattigan's Ross (1960) 
• Lawrence of Arabia: Seven Scenes from Seven Pillars of Wisdom
• Lawrence of Arabia: The Film as Biography 
• "Common humanity's the one thing you can't have."

Out for film - be back soon

The Plays of Robert Bolt, Part II

Dueling Queens: Sarah Miles and Eileen Atkins in Vivat! Vivat Regina! (Source)

Part One here.

Robert Bolt's later works show the playwright sublimated to the screenwriter. The first, The Thwarting of Baron Bolligrew, incorporates Bolt's thematic preoccupations into a children's play. Vivat! Vivat Regina grafts Brechtian stylization onto the tragedy of Mary Queen of Scots. Last is State of Revolution, a wordy, overstuffed but fascinating chronicle of the Russian Revolution.

Bolt's penchant for the grandiose remains undiminished. Each of the plays features dozens of characters, elaborate staging and sweeping events that must have been nightmarish to perform. On page the plays (mostly) read well-enough; on stage they might be excessive. Arguably, Bolt's ambition exceeds the medium.

The Thwarting of Baron Bolligrew (1964)

“A very good way is to do what you should… But a bit of what you fancy, does yer good!” 

After completing Doctor Zhivago Bolt penned The Thwarting of Baron Bolligrew, a delightful children’s play. Commissioned by the Royal Shakespeare Company for their 1964 Christmas season, its original production starred heavyweights John Normington, Michael Jayston, Terence Rigby, and Leo McKern. The play proved a huge success, with yearly revivals in Britain, a television adaptation by Germany’s Augsburger Puppetkiste, and a novelization published in 1995.

In a medieval Kingdom, assorted nobles celebrate their triumph over dragons with endless leisure. Do-gooder Oblong Fitz Oblong gets assigned to Baron Bolligrew, an oppressive landlord taxing his charges to death. Oblong befriends Michael, an amoral magpie who resembles a more benign Gentle Jack, and his square idealism initially proves fruitless against Boligrew and evil warlock Moloch. Things come to a head when Moloch summons an evil dragon to vanquish Oblong. Oblong must break his moral code to triumph.

Bolligrew incorporates Bolt's pet themes and stylization amidst a children's setting. His Storyteller functions like the Common Man from A Man for All Seasons: a narrator and character in the story, breaking the fourth wall with a wink and nod. Bolt's script stresses the artificiality with tinny music, cardboard animals and self-aware dialogue. It's a pleasing mix of the intellectual and playful: kids can appreciate the silliness, adults can enjoy Bolt's craftsmanship.

All this analytical hooey overwhelms the fact that Bolligrew is a kid’s play – and an excellent one at that. Sir Oblong's upright heroism takes a beating from assorted villains, but virtue comes out on top. Wonderfully crafted and with a droll sense of humor, it treats its young audience with respect. No wonder Bolt called it “the [play] that’s given me the most pleasure.”  

Vivat! Vivat Regina! (1970)

"She will have what she desires, and it will fetch her off her throne.”

Bolt returned to Tudor England in 1970, writing Vivat! Vivat Regina! as a vehicle for his wife Sarah Miles. Performed at the Chichester Theatre Festival with Miles as Mary Stuart and Eileen Atkins as Elizabeth I, it received considerable success. An equally successful Broadway version with Atkins and Claire Bloom ran in New York the following year, earning several Tony nominations. Vivat has experienced several revivals, including a 1985 off-Broadway version with Geraldine Page as Elizabeth, and Barbara Flynn as Mary in a 1995 Mermaid Theatre production.

Despite its reception, Vivat is Bolt’s weakest history play. The saga of Mary Queen of Scots has been told many times, from Maxwell Anderson to Maria Schiller. Bolt’s depiction of the dynastic duo as “figures on a seesaw, so similar and opposite” is interesting but not especially novel: Elizabeth sacrifices love for her throne, while Mary’s carnal fulfillment destroys her grip on power. We get a recitation of familiar history, well-written but unsurprising.

Vivat’s primary interest is Bolt’s very cinematic imagery. Most effective is a form of theatrical “cross cutting” which allows the Queens to interact without actually meeting. Thus he avoids the pitfall of a fictitious Mary-Elizabeth confrontation. The stylized stage work, with an elevated pyramid standing in for the respective throne, stands halfway between Absurd sparseness and traditional pageantry. More familiar Brechtian tropes (characters addressing the audience, use of a nursery rhyme during Darnley’s assassination) are employed to mixed effect. With its trappings of Epic Theatre, Vivat is probably more effective on stage than page.

As always, Bolt provides reams of crisp dialogue and eloquent speeches. But he clutters the narrative with an excess of characters and the story frequently drags. The personal focus which worked so well in A Man for All Seasons here trivializes history into a royal cat fight; we don’t get a proper grasp of the momentous political and religious issues at stake. Vivat is ultimately readable but underwhelming.

State of Revolution (1977)

“We cannot assume that the times in which we live are not catastrophic, merely because it is we who live in them. After all, someone has to live in catastrophic times.” 

Robert Bolt spent two years researching this epic treatment of the Russian Revolution, staged by Peter Hall's National Theatre with a prestigious cast: Michael Bryant, Michael Kitchen, Terence Rigby and Brian Blessed. The production proved arduous, due in part to a labor strike by stage hands. Critics savaged the play for being pro-Communist, anti-Communist or (in Irving Wardle's words) having "nothing definite to say."

State of Revolution was another personal project. Bolt held a New Left view of Communism, dismayed by Soviet tyranny but hopeful for true revolution elsewhere. Besides CND, he joined Hugh Trevor-Roper and Ernie Roberts in visiting Maoist China in 1965. His radio play The Window depicted the '56 Hungarian Revolution, while Doctor Zhivago provided a worm's-eye view of Revolutionary Russia. Bolt's time as president of ACTT (the Association of Cinematographic and Television Technicians) disillusioned him: in the mid-'70s he moderated a bitter dispute between Trotskyist unions, bankrupt studios and Harold Wilson's Labour government.

Like Vivat and Gentle Jack, State of Revolution is just too big: 25 speaking parts, large crowd scenes and spectacle covering 15 years of Russian history. The narrative lurches from prewar Capri through World War I, both revolutions, Red Terror, the Kronstadt Rebellion and Trotsky and Stalin's rivalry. With so much going on, State bogs down in spectacle. Producing it must have been nightmarish. Without Brechtian sparseness it's a panorama, meticulously accurate but dramatically stiff.

State lacks Bolt's usual themes. Zhelnik, leader of the Kronstadt Soviet, represents the pure extremist embodied by Louis Flax in Tiger and the Horse or Strelnikov in Doctor Zhivago, a revolutionary too pure for the Revolution. Felix Dzerzhinsky's evolution from idealist to pitiless executioner depicts humanity sublimated by ideology. Captain Draganoff has shades of the Common Man, cheerily switching from the Tsarist police to the Cheka. These characters are marginal however, Bolt instead focusing on the Bolshevik inner circle.

State crosses a "Great Men" historical pageant with Marxist dialectic: "Big events aren't formed by people, people are formed by big events." Education Minister Lunacharsky lectures about "the historically determined movement of the masses" while celebrating Lenin and Stalin's individual brilliance. Bolt also explores the contradictions between the Revolution's idealism and its brutal methods. But he ultimately reflects a naive sympathy towards the Bolsheviks: if only Stalin hadn't usurped Trotsky, Russia would be a Workers' Paradise! Yeah, right.

Bolt's portrait of Lenin and Co. drives home the irony. Lenin starts a relentless fanatic but the realities of government force moderation. Trotsky threatens German ministers with the mutiny of their men; "We do seem to have won," comes the retort. The New Economic Policy, liquidation of the Kulaks and revanchist imperialism transforms the Revolution into a repressive state. Trotsky, a theoretician whose arrogance alienates everyone, feuds with Stalin, an "administrator" like A Man for All Seasons' Cromwell waiting to be useful. Bolt shows how personalities and practicality shaped the Soviet Union more than theory.

State of Revolution finally proves more challenging than entertaining. Nonetheless, its shrewd deconstruction of Marxist dogma makes it worth reading.

* * *
State of Revolution was Bolt's final stage play. He spent the next three years working torturously on David Lean's The Bounty, the stress of which triggered a crippling stroke. After a long, painful recovery Bolt penned a few more screenplays (The Mission, Without Warning: The James Brady story) but never again returned to the stage. Perhaps the negative reaction towards State dissuaded him. Or perhaps he realized his true talents lie in cinema.

Back to movies soon!

The Plays of Robert Bolt, Part I

Part Two here.

With Lawrence of Arabia only a week away from re-release, I'm dusting off a long-mothballed post: a review of Robert Bolt's oeuvre. Bolt did his most lasting work as a screenwriter, yet he was also a prolific stage dramatist. Aside from A Man for All Seasons however, his plays are mostly forgotten.

In the early '60s, Bolt went from Mancunian schoolmaster to theatrical superstar with a trio of hits: Flowering Cherry, The Tiger and the Horse and A Man for All Seasons. Bolt's ability to analyze political issues through individual protagonists won him acclaim and popular appeal. But he was also dismissed by many: John Russell Taylor called him "a good old-fashioned playwright" like Terence Rattigan, telling conventional stories within familiar dramatic structures. Bolt's conventionality marginalized him in the era of John Osborne and Harold Pinter's "Angry Young Men," despite his flirtations with Brechtian "epic theater" in A Man for All Seasons and Gentle Jack. Even so, success brought him to David Lean and Sam Spiegel's attention, and the rest is history.

Certainly Bolt proved a gifted screenwriter. His eye for striking visuals, skilful treatment of complex themes, sharp characterizations and poetic dialogue made him ideally suited for film. Cinema allowed him a vast canvas for his preoccupations: war-torn Arabia, Revolutionary Russia, the Paraguayan jungle. By contrast, later plays like Vivat! Vivat Regina and State of Revolution suffer from excesses of characters and incident. Frith Banbury scoffed at Bolt's choice of "Sam Spiegel's yacht" over theater accolades, but one can hardly blame Bolt for focusing on a medium where he excelled.

Nonetheless, Bolt's stage work is worth remembering. His plays bristle with quotable dialogue and fascinating themes: the individual against society, the agony of conscience, the juxtaposition of personal and political, commitment versus compromise. Even when Bolt fails, he's usually interesting.

Seven of Bolt's plays have been published: Flowering Cherry (1958), The Tiger and the Horse (1960), A Man for All Seasons (1960), Gentle Jack (1963), The Thwarting of Baron Bolligrew (1964), Vivat! Vivat Regina (1970) and State of Revolution (1977). Of Bolt's other work, The Last of the Wine (1955) remains unpublished, while The Critic and the Heart (1957) and Brother and Sister (1966) only received limited printings. I'll recuse myself from reviewing A Man for All Seasons for a third time. All six plays examined are flawed but comprise an interesting body of work regardless.

Flowering Cherry (1958) 

“Your apples and orchards, your dreams; your one dream – it’s nothing but a lie and an excuse for lies and lies!” 

Bolt's debut The Critic and the Heart proved a minor success, but Flowering Cherry propelled him to theatrical stardom. The show ran at London’s Haymarket Theatre for over a year, starring Ralph Richardson and Celia Johnson. The play received positive reviews, with Harold Hobson particularly effusive: “Bolt looks on the withering misery, the complete self-contempt with the cold eye of a surgeon and with the … perceptiveness of a Proust.” A short Broadway run with Eric Portman and Wendy Hiller proved less successful.

The story is Arthur Miller by way of Chekhov. Insurance man Jack Cherry dreams of retiring to a cherry orchard in Somerset. He constantly threatens to quit his job, his erratic behavior driving wife Isobel batty. Things come to a head over a petty theft, with Cherry accusing his wayward son Tom, and when Cherry contemplates selling the family house. Isobel finally confronts Cherry over his self-destructive actions.

Bolt claimed to be unfamiliar with Death of a Salesman but this is hard to credit. Parallels to Miller’s magnum opus are inescapable: the husband wrapped up in delusions, the long-suffering but defensive wife, the dishonest children. Echoes of The Cherry Orchard further slather Cherry with discreditable familiarity. The most original elements are the most awkward: Cherry’s daughter Judy, a silly poker-bending stunt, and a projected cyclorama of cherry petals in the breeze. There’s a nod to the “Angry Young Man” in Tom, the disaffected Army-bound son, but otherwise this is a stolidly adult play.

Attentive readers will notice Boltian themes in embryonic form. Cherry certainly faces a question of commitment, albeit on a more personal scale than later works. A dichotomy between the “business world,” represented by the salesman Grass, and the “Natural” world represented by Cherry’s orchard, is a rough draft for Gentle Jack’s central dichotomy. But these are sublimated to the banal domestic drama.

Of course, judging any play solely by its text is problematic. A good, well-cast production might make these tired elements work: certainly Ralph Richardson and Celia Johnson could breathe life into anything. Without a production nearby however, I’m forced to judge Cherry on its literary merits, which are minimal.

The Tiger and the Horse (1960)

“I have no permissive authority over the importance of things. If they’re important to you, than to you they’re important.” 

In 1960, Bolt had the honor of two plays running simultaneously on the West End. Though written before A Man for All Seasons, The Tiger and the Horse was launched two months’ into that show’s run. It did better business at the time, because of another brilliant casting coup: Michael Redgrave in the lead and Vanessa Redgrave, in her first major stage role, as daughter Stella.

Despite its contemporary success, Tiger has faded into a theatrical footnote. For all its dated topicality and artificial plot mechanics it retains considerable power. Tiger is Bolt’s first work to fully develop his themes of self-hood and individual commitment.

Jack Dean is a professor at an unnamed Oxbridge University. A former astronomer, he's taken himself out of the "real world" by studying philosophy. He's next in line for promotion to Vice Chancellor until research fellow Louis Flax presents Dean with a petition for nuclear disarmament. Dean refuses to sign, alienating his wife Gwendoline, for whom the petition takes on incredible importance. Dean's pressed to make a choice, however, when Louis impregnates Dean's daughter Stella, and when Gwendoline loses her grip on sanity.

Tiger was an immensely personal project for Bolt. He was an active member of Bertrand Russell’s Committee of 100, which advocated nuclear disarmament. He contributed an essay to Clara Urquhart's anti-nuke book A Matter of Life (1963) and explored the issue in his play The Last of the Wine. In September 1961 Bolt was arrested for taking part in a protest in Trafalgar Square, only to be bailed out by a furious Sam Spiegel, who needed Bolt to write Lawrence of Arabia. Bolt’s failure to live up to his fictional protagonists haunted him for the rest of his life.

Tiger remains effective despite its dated central issue. Like many Bolt protagonists, Dean tries to "have it both ways," avoiding controversy at the cost of principle. Bolt effectively contrasts him with Louis, a politically committed busybody who can't tell Stella he loves her. Bolt further personalizes the drama with Gwendoline, who goes mad contemplating the horrors of nuclear war and her husband's lack of affection. The stakes aren't so far-reaching as A Man for All Seasons but serve a powerful drama; Bolt shows that even abstract issues effect everyone.

When Bolt focuses on Dean's dilemma, Tiger excels. Unfortunately, the play becomes weighed down in subplots and awkward characterization. Louis and Stella's romance initially provides comic relief, but never develops enough weight to balance the main story. Gwendoline's descent into madness seems abrupt, with her climactic action occurring offstage. In the final scenes, character development, plot mechanics and thematic concerns conveniently come to a head. Fortunately, these flaws are “outweighed by the forcefulness of [Bolt's] speeches” (Sabine Prufer), resulting in a powerful if didactic conclusion.

If Tiger is a formative work, it’s certainly an interesting one. Bolt would soon refine its themes and characterizations into his finest stage achievement.  

Gentle Jack (1963)

"A dog with its teeth in another dog’s throat is not so terrible, as a man in an office.”  

Gentle Jack’s disastrous West End run, starring Kenneth Williams, Dame Edith Evans and Michael Bryant, is legendary. Miscast stars, extraordinarily hostile audiences and merciless critics quickly buried it. Tribune Magazine’s scathing review is representative: “What could have been delightful as a fantasy takes on the tedious aspect of a charade.” The play was cancelled after 75 shows and has never been revived. Williams parlayed the experience into hysterical anecdotes, especially concerning the stuffy Dame Edith.

Jack is a fascinating failure. It's Bolt's most ambitious play, replete with striking themes and creative imagery shaped into a supernatural parable. Unfortunately Bolt botches the presentation, resulting in a melange of half-baked, garbled ideas.

Mild-mannered banker Jacko Cadence accompanies boss Violet Lazara, to Attis Abbey. Jacko’s family owned the Abbey until Violet swindled it from them; she regards Jacko with a mixture of pity and contempt. Jacko loathes the countryside and fends off the advances of local tart Penelope. Jacko gets mixed up in a local ceremony summoning the Nature spirit Jack-in-the-Green. It turns out Jack is very real, and he invests Jacko with otherworldly powers to make his presence known on Earth. But Jacko proves reluctant to abandon the “logical” world completely, infuriating Jack.

Gentle Jack takes the conflict between “Natural Man” and his professional responsibilities to its extreme. Here it’s a literal dichotomy, the forces of “Office” and “Nature” depicted as constantly warring, antithetical. Violet’s financial successes leaves her frigid and sexless. Her affection for assistant Bilbo appears chaste and she cannot transcend her professional avarice. The amoral Jack, comprising “cruelty and tenderness in equal measure,” is a fascinating creation. Execution aside, the development of this dichotomy is spot-on.

Jacko is a “natural butt” ill at ease in both universes, held in contempt by everyone. His coworkers ridicule him, the lusty Penelope taunts him, the workers at Attis Abbey resent his comparative wealth. Jacko puts his newfound power to good use, finding fulfillment in helping others. But he refuses to commit a pointless murder. Trying to straddle the fence between both worlds merely enrages both. Bolt presents another dilemma of commitment, but here “the choice Jacko is given is not a feasible one.” (Prufer)

Drawing heavily on the Theatre of the Absurd, Bolt envisions a living, almost surreal set. The drab office world collides with a vividly rendered forest, complete with foliage, falling fruits and a soundtrack of bees. From page descriptions, it would require an imaginative director to pull off. Bolt’s emphasis on visuals speaks to why he was a better screenwriter than playwright.

Unfortunately, these ideas smother under over-baked folderol. The first act sees Bolt piling on a multitude of characters that stifle development. Minor characters like the Brackets, an unhappy old couple, Gaston and Cynthia, two young but squeamish lovers and a gaggle of estate workers, serve little story function despite much attention. The effect is dramatic congestion, with each personage vying for attention through overripe monologues and witticisms. There’s too much going on and the play becomes sluggish and boring.

With Jack’s belated arrival, the play finally comes to life. Jack’s speeches about Nature’s amorality are powerfully rendered, and Jacko solving characters’ assorted problems provides sardonic mirth – more so when his solutions prove unsatisfactory. His romance with Penelope takes on an appropriately tragic edge in this context. Events build to a climax both comic and horrifying; Jack’s plea for “an animal in the House,” lapsing into nursery rhyme and Welsh dialect, strikes an appropriately perverse note.

But even here Bolt fudges things. He establishes Jack and Violet as polar opposites, representatives of Nature and the Office destined to collide. Intruding however is Morgan, a snooty mathematician presented as a “man of Logic.” This minor character squares off with Jack at the denouement, with Violet emerging not only unscathed but unchallenged. “The play confuses because it doesn’t succeed in focusing the unreasonableness,” Ronald Hayman notes.

Jack's failure sent Bolt further into the arms of Hollywood: he soon divorced his first wife, married Sarah Miles and re-joined David Lean for Doctor Zhivago. In the late ‘70s Bolt began revising the play, a project put paid by his crippling stroke. A shame, as there’s clearly a good play somewhere amidst the muddle.

* * *

I hope you've all enjoyed this slight deviation from the cinematic. My next installment will examine Bolt's final three plays. There may be movie reviews in the meantime, so stick around.


Note on Sources:

Besides Bolt’s plays themselves, my primary sources for this article are: Robert Bolt by Ronald Hayman (1969), Sabine Prufer’s The Individual at the Crossroads: The Works of Robert Bolt, Playwright, Screenwriter and Novelist (1999), and Adrian Turner’s Robert Bolt: Scenes from Two Lives (1998). All quotes and citations derive from them, including critic reviews, unless otherwise indicated.