DON’T MISS THE FUNNY AND HEARTWARMING “CYRANO, MY LOVE,” OPENING IN ALBUQUERQUE NOVEMBER 8, 2019

Poster courtesy of Roadside Attractions

Since Edmund Rostand’s “Cyrano de Bergerac” is one of my favorites, I approached the film Cyrano, My Love (France, 2018, French with English subtitles) with high hopes.  I am not disappointed.  The love of the eloquence of language permeates this wonderful retelling of the tale.  There are enough variations from the original play (and the many film adaptations) to make this production unique.

Playwright and director Alexis Michalik reflects upon Rostand's efforts to produce a popular work - any popular work - after his play "La Pricess Lointaine" utterly fails, even though it starred the renowned Sarah Bernhardt (played by Clémentine Célarié).  Indeed, one of Rostand's monikers now is "a young poet who writes flops."

This is the starting point of the story.  Edmond Rostand (Thomas Solivérès) is commissioned by the famed stage actor Constant Coquelin (Olivier Gourmet) to write and produce a success in order to save Coquelin’s career.  Plus, Edmond has to do this in 3 weeks!  This is the set-up for a slapstick comedy as Edmond must come up posthaste with a fully formed play, and a comedy, to boot.  

In this film, Edmond Rostand’s life parallels the Cyrano story.  His handsome but inarticulate friend Leo (Tom Leeb) has a love interest - Jeanne (Lucie Boujenah).  As Edmond steps in to improve Leo’s clumsy communications with Jeanne - snap - he conceives the story of a handsome but mumbling Christian mouthing the beautiful words of the odd-looking Cyrano (with his long nasal protuberance) to the lovely Roxanne, words that hold true for both Cyrano and Christian.

In the famed balcony scene (from the original play), where Edmond coaches Leo in his overtures to Jeanne as he and Leo hide in the shadows, Edmond is struck with self-awareness.   “Under the cloak of dust I dare to be myself.”  But Edmond is naive and insecure. He is compelled to begin letter-writing to Jeanne to develop his ideas about his play. Or is this a kind of love, too?

Jeanne is his muse, to the dismay of Rosemonde (Alice de Lencquesaing), a supportive though increasingly suspicious wife.  Side note:  Rosemonde Gérard was a poet and playwright herself in 19th century France, not acknowledged in this film. My guess is Michalik needed this stereotypical character to counterbalance Edmond’s wistful longings. 

Edmond is coached by Honoré (Jean-Michel Martial), a black owner of the bistro next door to the theatre, whose life formed him into this wise and knowing counselor.  Honoré also is a bit of a stereotype, but provides the moral support and encouragement that Edmond needs in order to not spiral downwards. 

Photo by Nicolas Velter, courtesy of Roadside Attractions:Thomas Solvérès (Rostand), Olivier Gourmet (Coquelin) and Tom Leeb (Christian).

The film pace picks up and becomes a delirious farce as the production is finally being put together on stage during rehearsals.  The diva who plays Roxanne (Mathilde Seigner) is hilariously demanding, threatening to quit over the slightest thing. Coquelin’s son - only in the play only because of nepotism - is a horrible actor.  The money men observe and cynically predict failure.  The inept stage manager is overwhelmed by his duties.  A rival playwright undermines Edmond with wisecracks.  Many more hijinks result in the production nearly coming to a screeching halt.

Back to the reality of the original play’s production, in December 1897, Edmond Rostand created an immensely successful play, “Cyrano, My Love.”  It was awarded the prestigious Légion d’Honneur (a high civil honor).  Rostand was also admitted to the Académie française (the official authority for grammar and vocabulary) right after the first performance of this beloved play.

Michalik, who produced his story initially in play format (inspired by the film Shakespeare in Love), wanted to tell this story as an instance of the success of French theater right before cinema became dominant.  His play was well-received, so Michalik then adapted it for the screen.  He notes that there were minimal modifications from his stage play:

Everything that was essential was already there. I just had to cut two or three things and make others more fluid, adding a couple of phrases here and there. The only scene that I completely rewrote was the one with Monsieur Honoré. To allow the audience to really understand his character, I wanted to have him on a set surrounded by books, in a sort of library. On the other hand, to adapt to the camera, I completely revised the staging and scenery. In the cinema, you have to show everything.

I would love to see the stage version of this film some day, and perhaps the film will inspire its production in the United States.  Meanwhile, to see this film in Albuquerque, you can go to Regal UA High Ridge 8 Theatre at 12921 Indian School NE beginning Friday, November 8, 2019.  You can call the theatre at (844) 462-7342 for more information.  Stay through the credits to see some interesting old films and photos.  Here is a link to the trailer.  https://youtu.be/TfhnPSQ73F0

Sometimes, it is not just about film - it's about music

There was a time when I thought that music was the most important thing in life. In a way, I still think that. But as I grew into an adult I realized that social justice mattered even more. But music is still the background of my life. Yes, this blog has shifted to mostly film reviews, but its title ("For What It's Worth") relates to a song I love by a band that I love (Placebo). 

David Bowie was my obsession for decades (well, after I got over his "Let's Dance" period -- still don't LOVE that period of David's music).  I saw parallels between his life and mine.

I found friends through Bowienet that have become lifelong friends (one of them - Magzy - gave me this mug when my sister and I recently visited The Netherlands.  What a joy that friendships can start with a common thread, especially such a unique artist such as David). 

I first heard cuts of "Hunky Dory" in a haze of marijuana in a hippie commune in a neighborhood north of Baltimore City. I wonder now, in this age of the Internet, how we even learned of this incredible collection of tunes but there it was, spinning on a turntable, causing much chilling out and reflecting in the potheads listening to it.  David's gender-bending identity, if you will, was just accepted as part of the counterculture.  His lyrics and music were "far out, man."  The quirkiness of "Kooks," the story-telling beauty of "The Bewley Brothers" and the timelessness of "Life on Mars" resonated with brilliance and beauty. 

It was 1971.  I suspect my drug use, while not paralleling David's exactly, was pretty extensive and for me very self-destructive as was his ("Cracked Actor").  A good number of us believed that heavy drug use (at least on weekends) was okay to do, indeed a good thing.  We didn't see the extent of our self-delusion.  I had profound depression and a lot of risky behaviors, but drug use masked any awareness of these characteristics.  David's music also reinforced my belief system that it was all right  - in fact good - to be an outsider. 

It is unclear to me when "TMWSTW,"  "The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars," "Aladdin Sane," and "Diamond Dogs" became a part of my culture. I just know that they did back then.  In fact, as I look back on those drug-fueled years, I realized I went to a lot of great musical performances that I don't even remember (since I was told of them by others). For a long time I thought I saw "David Live" in Philadelphia or a surrounding location when he toured the US in 1974.

By the late 70s and early 80s, to move myself into a healthier place, I turned for solace to country music (Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson, Don Williams, Tammy Wynette, Johnny Cash), along with Judy Garland tunes, opera and classical music.  I didn't know at that time the Berlin trilogy or "Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)" since I was connecting my drug abuse - and then alcohol abuse - to rock music.  Temporally, that was accurate.  It was the early 90s when I learned to love David's albums post-"Let's Dance." 

So, I missed most of the pop music of the late 70s and 80s.  When I heard " Fame," "Young Americans, " and "Let's Dance" (the tunes of his that became most popular in America) I thought "what the hell happened to David Bowie?"  and left fandom (of him) for a while.

What the hell happened to me?  Well, sobriety for one thing.

In the 90s, I knocked the sense back into myself (musically) and allowed myself, if you will, to become enamored of Radiohead, Green Day, Nine Inch Nails, Nirvana, R.E.M., The Foo Fighters, Metallica and music of that ilk along with the softer sounds of Sarah McLachlan, Natalie Merchant and others.  When David toured in the mid-90s with NIN, I took note and bought a video copy of one of the concerts (dreadful quality - not like bootlegs of today).  I saw him in "The Last Temptation of Christ" (stunned by that movie which I saw on video, not in the theater) and realized I had missed the many layers of DB's character and soul.

More important, I got back to his music  - "Black Tie White Noise"  - and decided to go back to the beginning of Bowie to see why I had been a fair weather fan in the 80s.  I absorbed into my psyche "1. Outside."  I couldn't wait for the release of "Earthling" and stood in a DC warehouse for hours in the front row watching DB on that tour and getting my ears blasted off.

Meanwhile,a lot of bios, authorized or unauthorized, were out about DB and I read them one after another.   I realized that DB's life and mine had followed similar arcs. 

In the 60s and 70s, substance abuse reigned supreme for both of us. In the 80s, there were successes with sobriety (for me, 1984 and I've never looked back).  DB put drug abuse behind him in the late 80s, I think in part when (because of?) he got custody of Duncan.  At least this is what I believe.  In the 90s I was in my 40s.  I was embracing outsider status again but in a much healthier way.  I wondered ("Little Wonder") why androgyny was not becoming the norm.  I bought " hours" and "Heathen" and "Reality" with great anticipation and loved all 3.  As I listened to early Bowie, I learned to love "The Laughing Gnome." (Really).

David in his 50s on the Reality Tour was an incredible example of creativity, strength, and inspiring musicality.  He had a tight almost symbiotic connection with his fans. I am honored that I saw him twice at Roseland (taking the train up from Baltimore both times in 2001 and 2002). I missed his Reality Tour since he canceled Atlantic City due to the illness he caught in Europe.  I am thankful for "The Next Day" and "Blackstar" (though the latter is still hard to listen to).  I believed in my 50s I was the healthiest I had been, again probably like David.   I was positive he was going to perform again, maybe just for bowienetters, but at least some small performance somewhere and all of us would go no matter where (though I was hoping for New York City).

I'm not sure when David's illness took hold, and while I don't have that same disease, my more recent years have had some struggles and stress again.  Part of that just relates to aging issues, part of it to still not having my shit together.  Oh well.  I think one of David's parting gifts to his fans was his ability to keep his failing health to himself and his close loved ones.  While we were all horrified at the news ("My Death"), in fact he kept us from the dread and worry of suffering through his illness with him over the years.

David WAS 1 year, 9 months and 5 days older than me.  I can't believe he is gone, my musical mentor leading the path into the older years for me.  No more. What's next?  I haven't been able to listen to his music since his death, except for an occasional tune here and there.  Another friend (from The Netherlands - Rxb) posted a video of David recently, and I think that has inspired me to get back to David's music. It is timeless, relevant and speaks to my heart and soul.

‘The World At Arm’s Length’ - at the Guild - places us in a world with no sight and minimal sound

Review by Lindsay Waite, Albuquerque, New Mexico 

Imagine being born with an undiagnosed disease - Usher Syndrome -  that gradually takes away sight and hearing. Imagine that it is not discovered until 8th grade, after which you are sent away from friends and family and your health continues to deteriorate.  Sven Fiedler lives this life.   In the documentary The World At Arm’s Length (2018, German and Spanish with English subtitles), we travel with Sven and his team as he pursues a dream he’d had for two decades:  walk the Camino de Santiago (Way of St. James), more than 500 miles.  He has some hearing ability, can communicate with tactile sign language (using one’s hands placed over another’s to feel the shape and movement of signs), but requires 7 different DBAs (Deaf Blind Assistants, 3 of whom are hearing-impaired) to provide support along the way.   

Directed by Susanne Bohlmann and produced by Christopher Hawkins (both of whom also appear in the film), The World At Arm’s Length take us on a unique, enlightening and heartbreaking journey.  Spoiler alert: Plot is covered from beginning to end in this review.  Neither had known anyone with this condition before, but as explained by the director, “When we were told that Sven was about to travel the Camino, this seemed like such a heroic decision and one which would teach us a lot about him, his reality and determination.”  Sven, in fact, intended to raise awareness of those suffering hearing and vision loss and with the help of one of his Assistants, Almuth, was contacting media about his planned journey.

The film opens with a gray screen, some discordant sounds including a high pitch, and tiny blotches of light gray every now and then.  We are experiencing what presumably Sven experiences, but he’s not going to let that stop his journey.  Several times during the film, we are brought back to this dark world with this gray imagery and unexpected sounds, as dialogue continues.  We can briefly think about what it’s like to, for example, navigate a rocky path without sight.

Seemingly, Sven is off to a good start, with a team of three Assistants to begin - Silke, Almuth and Katya - who provide descriptions of the surroundings and guide him as he holds onto a strap attached to an Assistant’s hand or backpack.  Initially, he is kind toward the Assistants, appreciating their support, but underneath there is inner turmoil.  As he falters and an Assistant reaches for him, he grumbles, “You don’t have to catch me.” She responds, “It’s a reflex.”  He grimaces.

Since he can’t take in the beauty of the surroundings, despite the attempts of his Assistants to offer vivid visual sketches of what they see, his focus turns to completing the walk as quickly as possible. In fact, his pace often becomes so fast that it is not easy for the Assistants or the filmmakers to keep up with him.  Sven is angered, for example, with Silke, who says the pace is too fast.  Later, when Katja suggests she first walk up a steep hill to see if it is open before they all walk up, he mutters, “Oh. Now the DBA decides.”  He resents the Assistants despite their efforts to address his needs and make the journey as meaningful as they can.

Sven is briefly uplifted when a group of hearing-impaired people meet him at a stop, and they use tactile signing and hugs to wish him the best.   He hugs each of them, communicating verbally as well as by signing.  

But once back to the journey, it is clear Sven is mad that Assistants are taking control. He rails that he wants an Assistant - not a Carer (who he characterizes as a commander).  He wants to be in charge.  A rage slowly builds because he knows he needs the Assistants.   He is angered when Silke explains she can’t keep up his pace. Later, he shouts at the Assistants, coming out of his bedroom, when he hears them talking and laughing.  He accuses them of wanting to get rid of him, ridiculing him.  As Silke leaves the team along with the film crew (since the intent was only to film the beginning and end of the journey), director Bohlmann stays since she wants to see how the story unfolds day-by-day.  At one point she draws Sven aside and asks him how he feels.  “Alone.”  She has become part of the film.

I asked the production team on whether it was the intent of the director and producer for them to become part of the story. They responded via email:

“The intent was never to include ourselves in the film.  The film we began with in our minds was purely about how Sven interacted with the environment and interpreted it in his mind.  We were unable to share this reality enough with Sven to do this justice [since] our expectations were incorrect.”  

Thus, they change their vision of the journey to include director Bohlmann’s view of his journey, its impact on his team and Bohlmann’s gradual understanding of Sven’s experience despite his unwillingness to share his thoughts most of the time.

When a new crew arrives to join Almuth and the filmmaker - Manu and Antje, hearing-impaired and a long time Assistant for Sven - it seems as if there is a chance for a shift to a more positive experience for them all.  This moment is short.  Quickly, Sven accuses Manu of simply wanting a job and money - not his friendship, shocking Antje. She has not seen this side of Sven.

Sven wants independence, which he can never have. He wants a bond of friendship with persons he hired as Assistants, but his insults are brutal and he drives them away from him. He calls Manu inhuman.  He complains that the team should be “All for one and one for all,” but instead it is “One for all and three against one.”  He is left out, remarking “I’ve got a name. I’ve got a heart and soul.” As kind as all the Assistants are to him, he responds with bitterness and sarcasm.  “Being along here is even harder.”  

The producer, Christoper Hawkins, shows up on a bicycle and they hug for a long time, Sven in tears.  Manu notes that for the first time, and perhaps the only time, Sven has forgotten that he is powerless, that he is in constant need of some kind of help. “He didn’t need us to complete his senses,”  she believes.

The involvement of Hawkins in the film was accidental because the camera was rolling constantly.  Sven had a connection to Hawkins.  Bohlmann explains that “Sven drew him in to certain impactful scenes and it then became impossible to leave him out if the story were to be told.”  Truly, these are some of Sven’s most revealing moments - when he feels the support of Hawkins.

There are further verbal altercations with the Assistants. At one point, he admonishes Manu when she takes a moment to soak her feet in a river as they await a car at at pickup point.  He remarks, “Now she is a pilgrim, not an Assistant.”  His contradictions abound.  “Nobody is here for me.”  “I don’t care if I reach Santiago.”  When Manu plans to leave since he won’t take a break for a day, he points his finger toward her face and shouts, “I need you!  Are you happy now? I need you!”  But, Sven trusts no one.

In Santiago, at the Zero Stone, he has already instructed his Assistants to not hug him, so they don’t.  They hug each other.  Sven briefly has a look of peace on his face since he has achieved his goal, but when director Bohlmann comments that the walk gave him what he needed but not what he wanted, he responds, “My heart still hurts but I made my Camino.  That’s the most important thing.”

When is he most happy?  When he is home again in his own surroundings, opening the blinds, stepping out on his balcony, moving comfortably around his space, and using his hands and memory as guidance.  What does this space give him? “Freedom.” 

The filmmaker closes with her own thoughts on how disconnected people are who are unable to hear or see.  She reflects, “when one is blind, one is disconnected from ‘things’ and when one is deaf, one is disconnected from ‘people’.”  But to Bohlmann, “If I can’t read the face of my companion, I can only search inside of me.”  She believes the hero journey of Sven ended when Sven arrived home again.  Yet, Sven is planning another journey, to hike to “the end of the world,” the Atlantic Ocean.  He wistfully dreams of a second chance.  But he has to work out his own negative and destructive reactions to his disability and understand that fear, anger and confusion about the motives of helpers only drives him into more loneliness.

This filmmaking team plans to continue to document the stories of people who have extraordinary challenges in their lives, and I look forward to their future productions.

This film has a limited release in the USA, so the screening at the Guild, beginning this afternoon, is a rare opportunity to view it.  The World At Arm’s Length is also being released in Canada, Ireland, Australia and New Zealand.

The Guild’s screenings are May 21-May 23 (4:15PM, 8:30PM) and May 28-30 (4:15 PM, 8:30PM).  New Mexicans have an opportunity for a unique glimpse into the world of a dreamer with extraordinary challenges and his quest to walk the Camino despite tremendous obstacles, including himself.  Here is a link to the trailer.  https://www.imdb.com/videoplayer/vi1829288473