Up

With two weeks to go until the Oscars, I've finally seen one of the 10 nominees for Best Picture. Yeah, I'm a little behind.

I know some of them are way too violent for me. And frankly, a lot of movies work fine on a small screen. So I simply add them to my Netflix queue and wait for the dvd to arrive in the mail.

But every once in awhile there's one I really wish I'd seen in the theater, or at least bought that 46-inch flat-panel plasma TV I've been thinking about.

Up, from Disney/Pixar, is definitely in the latter category. It's sweet and funny and visually stunning and it's a thrilling adventure story.

Like all Pixar films, it works on two levels - lots for the kids to enjoy and some witty references the adults might pick up on.

First, it's a buddy movie about a lonely widower, Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner), and an eager little boy, Russell (Jordan Nagai), who yearns for some paternal attention.

But before they meet, there's a sequence introducing Carl that is simply masterful. Like the beginning of Wall-e, it's done without dialogue, yet conveys everything we need to know about his life. And it's so poignant, I was crying at the end.

Asner is in his Lou Grant mode, fiercely independent and a bit cranky. Nagai's Russell, the first Asian-American character in a Pixar movie, is so cute as a Wilderness Explorer who shows up on Carl's doorstep, trying to earn his final merit badge for "assisting the elderly."

Carl and Russell travel to an exotic location, make new friends, including a very energetic golden retriever, find themselves in hair-raising situations and match wits with a wily villain (voiced by Christopher Plummer). Some of the animation seemed so realistic, it was breathtaking.

In fact, Up reminded me of the best parts of the Indiana Jones movies. (If only Indy 4 had been this good!)

Up is only the second animated film, after Beauty and the Beast, to be nominated for Best Picture. This is one I should have gotten up off the couch and gone to the theater to see.

Taking the kids to a show

I had a conversation with a friend the other day that warmed the cockles (whatever they are!) of my theatre-loving heart.

Her husband took their young daughter to see Wicked and they both enjoyed it immensely.

It made me happy not only because they loved a musical that I love but because she was the right age (she's 8 or 9) for the experience. Someday, when she's a veteran theatergoer with a blog of her own, she'll be able to recall that magical evening with her dad.

Coincidentally, the Hartford Courant's Frank Rizzo has a very informative article on what parents should consider before buying a theatre ticket for their child. There's a helpful list of tips and some great examples of "first shows" for the kids.

He makes an excellent point: while some shows have kid components, "that in itself is not enough to entertain the littlest theater-goers. (The first words that come out of the title character's mouth in Billy Elliot are expletives; The Secret Garden might be a bit dark for small children; there are Nazis in The Sound of Music.)"

And it was encouraging to read that two of the people behind some of the most popular musicals make the point that age recommendations are there for a good reason.

Rizzo interviews Thomas Schumacher, president of the Disney Theatrical Group, who remarks that it's not uncommon to see children as young as 6 at the musicals The Lion King and Mary Poppins, even though they both run about 2 1/2 hours.

"That's kind of pushing it," Schumacher says. "First of all, they can't see very well, even with booster seats. But it's not just that. These shows are not designed to keep their extraordinary minds interested."

I have to agree with Schumacher. The Lion King can be a great choice to introduce your child to the theatre. But when I saw it on Broadway there were definitely children younger than 6 and they definitely had a difficult time staying focused on the action on stage.

I've written about the wrong age to take kids to the theatre - like the two toddlers in front of me at Annie. (I can't really say they sat in front of me because I don't think they ever actually sat in their seats.) I'm thinking this happens a lot, too, where the children are so worn out by curtain time that the musical becomes a rather expensive nap.

I guess my view is in line with David Stone, a producer of Wicked, who advises that 8 and up is a good age to see the musical. He said, "I want [children] to go when they can really enjoy it, when the theater event can be really memorable."

Has Disney lost its Broadway magic?

Even though I wasn't interested in seeing Disney's The Little Mermaid I'm still sad that the musical is ending its run at Broadway's Lunt-Fontanne Theatre on Aug. 30.

Now, I know the House of Mouse (always wanted to write that!) still has The Lion King and Mary Poppins on Broadway. Although my fellow blogger Chris Caggiano, at Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals, wonders how long Ms. Poppins will be around.

The Little Mermaid is launching a national tour in the fall of 2010 and I'm sure it'll do just fine, just like every other Disney musical and ice show. But I'm starting to wonder whether Disney Theatrical Productions has lost some of its Broadway magic - and that's not a good thing.

Its first musical, Beauty and the Beast, ran for 13 years, closing in 2007 after 5,461 performances. The Lion King seems to be going strong, at 4,821 performances since October 1997. Aida closed in 2004, after about 4 1/2 years and 1,852 performances.

Since then, the results have been less than stellar. Tarzan closed in July 2007, after less than 18 months and 486 performances. The Little Mermaid will do better. It opened in November 2007 and by the end of August, will have played 735 performances.

In the PBS documentary Broadway: The American Musical, former Disney CEO Michael Eisner recounts telling then-New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani that if Disney were to come to Broadway, the area had to be made safe for families. And it was. Not just for families - for everyone.

I love walking around Manhattan during the day, then going to the theatre at night knowing I can head back to my hotel at midnight and feel perfectly safe in Times Square. That's a big reason I've been spending my tourist dollars in New York City over the past few years.

So this quote in an Associated Press story from Thomas Schumacher, president of Disney Theatrical Productions, has me a little concerned: "I don't have a new musical planned for New York right a way."

I'm not panicking. There is other family oriented fare, like Shrek. Plus, Schumacher went on to add that the next Disney show could be Peter and the Starcatchers, a prequel to Peter Pan, in the 2010-2011 Broadway season.

And I'm not saying if Disney were to leave, the peepshows and XXXX movie theatres would return to 42nd Street. Obviously New York City has a gigantic economic stake in keeping the area safe and G-rated.

And it's not just about putting butts in seats. I'm sure Disney could fill a theatre with High School Musical. Like a lot of people of my ahem, generation, the first movie I remember seeing was a Disney movie. I've enjoyed The Lion King and Mary Poppins on Broadway. It's about the wonder and the magic in the storytelling.

I think a strong Disney commitment helps ensure that Broadway appeals to as wide a range of theatergoers as possible. And that's good for everyone who loves going to Broadway.

Jumping on the Wall-E bandwagon

I know I'm a bit late with this, but I finally saw Wall-E, the latest movie from Pixar animation studios and writer/director Andrew Stanton, who also directed Finding Nemo.

I was going to wait until this one came out on DVD. But Vance at Tapeworthy gave Wall-E high marks in his summer movie roundup and said I really should see it on the big screen. He was right. It's a great movie with a very appealing main character and a graphic warning about the consequences of runaway consumption. In terms of illustrating the damage that we're doing to our environment, I think it hit me harder than An Inconvenient Truth. So thanks, Vance!

I'd read that the first 40 minutes or so contain almost no dialogue, and I was afraid I'd be a bit bored, but it was riveting. As the movie opens, we see an abandoned planet Earth filled with nothing but towering skyscrapers of garbage. It's visually stunning and more than a little disturbing. I mean, I'm sure my old newspapers and plastic water bottles are in there somewhere from the days before recycling.

Wall-E (For Waste Allocation Load Lifter - Earth Class,) is a robot, a tiny trash compactor who's spent the past 700 years cleaning up the huge piles of man-made waste that have overtaken the Earth and made it uninhabitable. Wall-E is a little beaten up, but he's a plucky and resourceful fellow, scavenging spare parts and recharging himself from the sun's rays.

Let me just say that Wall-E, who's voiced by Ben Burtt, is adorable. His performance is one of the best I've seen all year. In an almost totally nonverbal way, the creative team at Pixar has created a very likable, sympathetic character. And it's really fun to watch all of his human-like mannerisms: the way he cocks his head or interlocks his little mechanical hands.

You can tell that Wall-E leads a kind of a lonely existence. Except for his cockroach pal, he seems to be alone on the planet. (Hey, what's a Disney movie without a sidekick, right?) All of the other robots must have have broken down ages ago. All of the humans have been launched into space on a giant craft that resembles a cruise ship, where they grow corpulent and await word that Earth can once again sustain life.

One of Wall-E's greatest pleasures comes from watching a videotape of the 1969 film Hello Dolly!, especially the songs "Put On Your Sunday Clothes" and "It Only Takes a Moment." It's clear that Wall-E yearns for his own life to be filled with what he sees in movie - happiness, love, a little music and someone or something with whom he can hold hands.

Wall-E gets his wish when a robot named Eve, for Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator, is sent to to Earth from the spacecraft to search for signs of life. Wall-E sees Eve (voiced by Elissa Knight) and is immediately smitten.

As a machine, Eve is everything Wall-E isn't - sleek and polished as shiny new iPod, with glowing baby-blue eyes. Watching him fall in love is really very cute. What he wants to do more than anything is hold her hand, just like he's seen people do in Hello, Dolly! You're really rooting for him.

The second part of the movie, when Wall-E and Eve are on the spaceship and have to do battle with evil robots and foil nefarious plans and make daring escapes, didn't seem quite as magical to me. I still enjoyed it, but the movie just became more of a generic action/adventure story from that point.

But there's a lot of humor, especially from the character of the ship's captain, voiced by Jeff Garlin, and a live-action Fred Willard as the CEO of the corporation that's trying to clean up Earth. Plus, there are some nice shoutouts to 2001: A Space Odyssey.

In one sense, Wall-E is kind of a dystopian movie. It presents a pretty grim picture of the future of our planet. So Wall-E and his infatuation with Hello Dolly! provide a nice counterpoint. I liked the way the movie focuses, in part, on the power of musical theatre to captivate us, to lift our spirits, to illuminate the best parts of the human condition.

How Does the Show Go On?

I love this book. I saw it while I was perusing the merchandise during intermission at The Lion King on Broadway. (And Disney is the king of merch). I hesitated because I thought, "Oh, it's for kids." But when I got home, I cashed in some of my Borders bucks and bought it.

Anyway, How Does the Show Go On?, by Thomas Schumacher, president of Disney Theatricals, and Jeff Kurtti, creative director of the Walt Disney Family Museum, is a great book about the theatre for a young audience (or kids at heart, like me). If you're going to take home a souvenir from a Disney show, this is a great one.

What I love is that it's so well put-together and filled with information. The text is written in a very breezy, conversational style - easy to understand without talking down to its audience. The book is printed on heavy paper and lavishly illustrated with pictures from Disney productions. Plus, there are cool extras, like an opening night Playbill, sample ticket and costume sketches from The Lion King. It's a pop-up book for theatre lovers!

Schumacher and Kurtti cover the basics - including the different kinds of theatre - Broadway, off Broadway, regional, summer stock, touring companies - and the kinds of stages - black box, proscenium, thrust, amphitheater. (I didn't know that the Romans built amphitheaters because their bowl shape holds sound so well, but now that I think about it, it does make sense).

They also do a great job of taking the reader through the whole process of creating a show and all of the people it takes to put it on once you get to opening night. And they don't simply focus on the obvious - the actors and musicians - they also go behind the scenes to describe putting together the costumes, sets, makeup, props and special effects. (Personally, I did not know that the flyman was in charge of pulling the ropes to make sure that things go up and down).

True, a lot of the information in How Does the Show Go On? I already knew. But even when the authors are describing the basics, like the dressing room, they find a way to give the reader a little added value. For example, when Yul Brynner toured the United States in The King and I, his dressing room in every city had to be painted a specific color of brown. Who knew?

And I didn't realize that there are four actors inside the elephant that parades down the aisle in The Lion King. (Okay, I guess that should have been obvious. An elephant does have four legs, after all.) After making its exit, the elephant is stored 15 feet in the air over the stage because it's too big to fit anywhere else. I don't know about you, but I love those kinds of details.

Amid all of the details, they spice things up with interesting tidbits about the shows. For example, Stephen Mear, a choreographer for Mary Poppins, has a close friend who's deaf. The idea for choreographing "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" came from his experience with sign language.

You could sit down and read How Does the Show Go On? from cover to cover, but I like just keeping it on my coffee table and picking it up every once in awhile to flip through the pages, look at the pictures and soak up some more theatre lore.

It's easy to read a book like this and think, oh this is something I could never do, so I like the way the authors include plenty of advice on how kids can put on their own backyard productions. I wish I could give a copy to every 12-year-old, and then encourage them to round up some friends and put on a show of their own. I wish I were 12 again so I could do it.

The Lion King

Gratuitous Violins rating: **** out of ****

When it comes time for me to list my favorite theatrical moments of 2008, I don't think anything will top the opening 10 minutes of Disney's The Lion King. I've never seen anything like it and I probably never will again - unless I see The Lion King a second time.

Once a pair of giraffes ambled across the stage at Broadway's Minskoff Theatre, my jaw dropped in amazement. At first, I couldn't even figure out where the actors were in the costume. The parade of animals up the aisles seconds later - including birds and zebras and gazelles, even an elephant - was thrilling.

But it doesn't stop there. As cliched as it may sound, The Lion King is an incredible visual feast throughout its nearly three-hour running time. The grasslands of the African savanna, an eerie elephant graveyard, stampeding wildebeests, scary hyenas and circling vultures are all stunning to look at and created with terrific special effects, using video projection, elaborate costumes, masks and puppets.

The score, by Elton John and Tim Rice, with additional music and lyrics by Lebo M., Jay Rifkin, Hans Zimmer and Mark Mancina, covers a range of emotions so well, from the the stirring opening number, "The Circle of Life," to the joyous "I Just Can't Wait to Be King," the hilarious "Hakuna Matata," and the poignant "Can You Feel the Love Tonight." I love the way Jamaican-born Garth Fagan's spirited choreography combines classical and modern dance.

Think about it this way: it's as if you saw the 1994 animated movie, then had a vivid dream that night in which the story - and all of the animals in it - came to glorious life. Even then, you could never have imagined it this way. It's the type of thing you can only see in the theatre.

My most recent trip to New York began and ended with Shakespeare. First, I saw Patrick Stewart in Macbeth. While I found director Rupert Goold's take on a power-hungry Scottish general somewhat hard to follow, Julie Taymor's re-imagining of Shakespeare's play about a melancholy Danish prince is clear and compelling and inspired.

Of course, I'm not the first person to recognize the comparison between Hamlet and The Lion King. Both are about a young prince whose father is murdered at the hands of a jealous uncle. Both wrestle with whether or not to seek revenge for the murder. Both stories are about growing up and learning to accept responsibility. Both also have great comic elements and in each, the murdered king appears to the young prince.

In this version, Nathaniel Stampley's Mufasa is a commanding yet gentle king, who admonishes his young son for getting into mischief while reveling in his spunk. Danny Rutigliano and Jim Ferris are hilarious as Timon and Pumbaa, the easygoing meerkat and warthog who befriend Simba when he flees after his father's death. Kissy Simmons is a feisty, strong-willed adult Nala, who fights off Scar's advances and encourages Simba to return home. I liked Wallace Smith's adult Simba in Act II, although he didn't make quite as big an impact, maybe because his character's actions at first are less showy, and I don't think he gets as much stage time.

But for me, there were two standouts. Shavar McIntosh, a 10-year-old from Harlem making his Broadway debut, was terrific as young Simba. He was just a delight to watch, so full of energy and the total embodiment of a sweet yet mischief-prone little boy. And as Scar, Derek Smith makes a delicious villain, perfectly sly and and cunning and evil. He really seemed to be channeling Jeremy Irons' performance from the movie. (Smith also got booed at the curtain call, the first time I've ever heard that. Maybe he played the role a little too well).

I did have a few small quibbles with The Lion King. As I said, I didn't connect as much with the character of the adult Simba, perhaps because young Simba is simply a funnier, more physical role. In Irene Mecchi's book, adult Simba's struggle, at least until the climax, is more internal. But in a musical based on a beloved children's movie, I wasn't expecting a lot of "to be or not to be." And once in awhile, I thought the dancing went on a bit too long.

Still, those things weren't enough to give The Lion King anything less than my highest recommendation. It's such a unique visual spectacle, so theatrical, tremendously energetic and funny, always entertaining. And the lesson that the adult Simba learns - about how the people we love are always with us, even when they're no longer with us - is so moving.

Truly, it takes a very a very big village to raise a musical of this scale. All of the praise heaped on choreographer Garth Fagan, on director Julie Taymor, who designed the costumes, masks and puppets with Michael Curry, on Richard Hudson's scenic design, Donald Holder's lighting, and Michael Ward's hair and makeup is well-deserved. The Lion King won six Tony awards, for best musical, direction and for its costumes, lighting, set and choreography.

I've had kind of mixed feelings about Taymor's movies. I loved Frida, but I was disappointed with Across the Universe. Here, I can see where Taymor put her background in mythology, folklore, Asian drama and puppetry to great use. Just one small example: When Mufasa dies, ribbons fall out of the eyes of the lionesses to symbolize tears. It's so effective at illuminating grief, and I later learned that it's a Japanese bunraku puppet mourning technique.

What I've really come to appreciate about The Lion King is the way it folds so many influences - African rhythms, pop tunes, Japanese puppetry, classical and modern dance - into a Broadway musical.

It seems to me that this is a great example of the right way to adapt a movie for the stage - with limitless imagination. I don't know what it was like to see The Lion King when it debuted on Broadway in 1997, but I can report that 11 years later, the musical still packs a mighty roar.

My audience story

I saw The Lion King during my last trip to Broadway, and I absolutely loved it. I'll be writing a full review soon, but I wanted to share my own audience story.

This was my second Disney show. I saw Mary Poppins last summer. And of course there are hundreds of children in attendance, some of them as young as 5 years old. It's all very cute and it's great to see so many kids at a Broadway show. (Less cute is the way Disney hawks souvenirs inside the theatre before the show starts. I felt like I was at a baseball game.)

You simply can't have the same expectations from an audience at a Disney musical that you have at a performance of, say, August: Osage County or some other other adult-oriented fare. Both The Lion King and Mary Poppins are nearly three hours long, and you can't expect a 5-year-old to sit there in complete silence for that stretch of time. All things considered, I thought the youngsters at both shows were very well behaved.

Still, at The Lion King I got kicked in the back of the seat a couple times and the kids on both sides of me were a little chatty. They used their indoor voices, but every few minutes a little voice would pipe up with questions - and they had lots of questions. "Who's that?" "Is he dead?" were a couple of the ones I remembered. I can't blame them. They were exactly the kind of questions I would have asked at their age if my parents had taken me to a Broadway show.

At intermission, I looked at the little boy who was kicking my seat (it really only happened a couple times, and he didn't do it on purpose) and he was so nattily attired, all I could do was smile. He couldn't have been more than 7 or 8, and he was dressed in a blazer, blue shirt and khaki pants. He was with his grandparents, and when I complimented him on his wardrobe, his grandmother sounded a little disappointed that he wasn't wearing a tie.

Yeah, the talking did get slightly grating after awhile, but it didn't ruin my enjoyment of the show in the least. I think that The Lion King is probably better when you see it with hundreds of kids, and catch some of their wide-eyed amazement and enthusiasm. I mean, why would I want to see it with 1,500 cynical, jaded adults like myself? (If you're planning to see it and you don't have any kids, I suggest borrowing one from a friend or relative.)

I just took it all in stride. But apparently it was too much for a man sitting in front of me. At one point during Act II, he turned around, put his index finger to his lips and firmly shushed the little boy sitting next to me on his mother's lap.

Now, that shocked me. First of all, what did this man expect at a Disney musical on a Sunday evening? Plus, he was with kids of his own! Also, I would never shush a child I didn't know. I can understand the guy's dilemma. It's not like he could quietly approach the boy's mother. He did it in the firmest, quickest and most unobtrusive way possible.

But still, I felt bad for the kid. He was probably around 5, and most likely at his first Broadway show. I could tell that he was pretty much enthralled by the whole spectacle and he was much too young to realize he was supposed to save his questions for afterward. I just felt like this man crushed his enthusiasm. I mean really, it wasn't that annoying. I hope the whole incident hasn't scarred the child (pun intended!) and put him off the theatre altogether.

Enchanted

The last time I saw Amy Adams in a movie she was so sweet and appealing as Ashley, the childlike and very pregnant Southerner in 2005's "Junebug." Adams received a well-deserved Oscar nomination for that role.

In Disney's "Enchanted," Adams has moved up a few notches on the social scale: she's Giselle now, a princess-in-waiting. But her character still has that same sweetness, although this time with a sense of wonder that comes from being a princess out of water. James Marsden plays Edward, her Prince Charming, with a great combination of sincerity, wit and royal entitlement. Marsden's been terrific in everything I've seen him in lately, including as teen dance show host Corny Collins in "Hairspray."

The first movie I ever remember seeing was from Disney - 1963's take on the legend of King Arthur, "The Sword in the Stone." So I was delighted that "Enchanted" starts off with a terrific animated sequence showing how Giselle met her Prince Charming. It reminded me of all those classic Disney animated movies. Eric at Man in Chair has the rundown on the references, along with all the Broadway stars, that crop up in "Enchanted."

Before Giselle and Edward can marry, she's banished by the evil queen, a perfectly nasty Susan Sarandon, to a place where there are no happy endings, which turns out to be midtown Manhattan. Giselle is rescued from a driving rainstorm by cautious, straightlaced divorce lawyer Robert Philip, played by Patrick Dempsey, who has a 6-year-old daughter, Morgan, a very sweet Rachel Covey, and a girlfriend, Nancy, a sassy Idina Menzel.

Soon, everyone is in Manhattan looking for Giselle: Edward, the queen, the queen's henchman, a very funny Timothy Spall, and one incredibly industrious chipmunk, voiced by Kevin Lima, who also directed the film. A great running gag is how they all appear in New York, one after another, through a manhole cover in Times Square.

And let me just say, the city looks especially enchanting in this movie. There are great scenes of Times Square, Katz's Deli on the Lower East Side, Columbus Circle, and an extended song-and-dance number that takes place in Central Park. (I couldn't help but think how great it'll look on stage when Disney gets around to turning "Enchanted" into a Broadway musical. I hope they get Matthew Bourne, who did the wonderful choreography for "Mary Poppins.")

"Enchanted" is a really sweet, fun, engaging movie, especially for anyone who loves romantic comedies, or Disney or New York City. I'm even thinking about picking up a copy of the score by Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz, which recalls classic Disney tunes.

A large part of the credit goes to Adams. For all her innocence and naivete, she's also a princess with lots of pluck, determination and a take-charge attitude. (Although I could have done with far, far fewer computer-created rodents and insects in the scene where Giselle tidies up Robert's apartment).

I'm really looking forward to a couple of Adams' upcoming roles - the film version of the Tony and Pulitzer-winning play "Doubt," and "Julie and Julia," the real-life story of a woman who wrote a blog, and then a book, about working her way through Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." I've read the book, by Julie Powell, and I think Adams would be perfect in the part. Meryl Streep, who's also on tap to star in "Doubt," is supposed to play Julia Child.

I do have a couple of quibbles with "Enchanted." I did kind of wonder about the explanation for what happened to Robert's wife and Morgan's mother: apparently she just left them one day. Usually in this type of movie, the mother dies tragically young, like in "Bambi." It just seems like an odd plot choice for a movie aimed at children. Plus, I found the final battle between the queen and Giselle a little jarring. The movie starts with cute and cuddly animation straight out of "Bambi" and ends with a scary sequence that looks like it could have come from "Godzilla."

Still, I have to admit that I felt like crying at the end, as Giselle teaches Robert a thing or two about the power of love. I don't think I'm giving anything away by revealing that despite the queen's assertion, New York is a place for happy endings.