Photo Courtesy © Miramax Films

Doubt (2008)

Written and directed by: John Patrick Shanley

Starring: Meryl Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams and Viola Davis.

Doubt is based on a successful stage play written by John Patrick Shanley. The critically acclaimed Broadway show ran from November 2004 until July 2006 for a total of 525 performances. The play won several awards including the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for Drama, the 2005 Drama Desk Award for Best New Play and four Tony awards including Best Play of 2005. So you could say it’s no surprise that the film was nominated for five Oscars and five Golden Globes. Unfortunately, Doubt finds itself in a tight race against a lot of great films. (It had no luck at the Golden Globes, so I find it hard to imagine that it will have any success at the Oscars.) Regardless of the outcome of these award shows, I still think that this is a superbly well-written and entertaining film. Right from the opening credits you feel the suspense building onscreen just like a pressure cooker. At any moment the tension and drama could escalate into a full scale Hoffman/Streep acting war.

The film takes place at the St. Nicholas Church School in the Bronx during the fall of 1964. The story revolves around four main characters: Father Brendan Flynn, Sister Aloysius Beauvier, Sister James and Mrs. Miller. Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is a seemingly progressive, caring and loving individual that welcomes change but hides a terrible secret. He is unaware that the school’s principal, Sister Beauvier (Meryl Streep), is keeping a close eye on him. Sister Beauvier believes that the use of fear and discipline is the only way to run a school. She trusts no one, and is determined to prove a theory that could ruin the lives of several people. Sister James (Amy Adams) is a loving, passionate teacher with an innocent sometimes naïve nature, unaware that she is about to fall victim to one of Sister Beauvier’s modern day inquisitions. Mrs. Miller (Viola Davis) is a hardworking African-American woman that would do anything to avoid a scandal involving her family. She just wants her son to finish the school year regardless of the price he might be paying.

The pivotal scene in the story happens when Sister Beauvier confronts Mrs. Miller regarding the inappropriate conduct of Father Flynn towards her son. Mrs. Miller understands what’s going on but she begs Sister Beauvier not to act. She feels that the only way that her son can have a chance to be accepted at a good high school is if no one says or does anything. Unfortunately this is the same attitude that a lot of families and people of authority within the Catholic Church have taken when faced with this problem. The families allowed the abuse to continue because the priests represented authority, status in the community and a future for their children. The church allowed this abuse to happen because they knew that a life of celibacy encouraged this behavior. In their eyes, sex with a woman is an unforgivable act, but sex with a child, well, that only becomes a problem depending on who knows about it. As long as the sex did not involve a consenting woman or man, any child abuse scandal or accusation was just swept under the rug.

Even though the direction of the story is no surprise, it’s the acting and the tension created by the actors circumstances that make this film a must see. Both Philip Seymour Hoffman and Meryl Streep are fabulous in their roles but it’s Meryl Streep that steals the show. Her portrayal of a cold, methodical, disciplined and unforgiving Sister detective sets the pace and convinces us that she is right and everyone else is wrong. Can experience and suspicion be enough to prosecute and convict someone, even when there is no concrete evidence to prove the guilt of an individual? This is the question that resonates throughout the film. There will always be some doubt since very few things in life are truly certain.

Juanmarcos@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photos Courtesy © Fox 2000 Pictures

Bride Wars

Directed by: Gary Winick

Written by: Greg DePaul, Casey Wilson and June Diane Raphael

Starring: Kate Hudson, Anne Hathaway, Bryan Greenberg, Chris Pratt, Steve Howey, Candice Bergen and Kristen Johnston

I need to learn to follow my own rules: If more than two people write a romantic comedy, take it as a sign and stay the hell away. The problem is that when it comes to chick flicks, I am always compelled to give in to the part of me that is, well, let’s just say less rational. Although I pride myself on being fiercely independent—a schiksa version of Barbara Streisand in The Way We Were if you will—I am extremely dependant on romantic comedies to make me feel better about myself. I look to them for hope, and grasp at anything that inspires me to believe that someday too I will be the star of my own romantic comedy rather than just a weepy chick watching onscreen relationships progress in dimmed lights.

That said, I’ve never really understood the obsession that women have with weddings. I completely understand the desire to get married, but the idea of freaking out over a dress or an engagement ring or a reception at the Plaza is totally foreign to me. This would initially explain why I thought Gary Winick’s Bride Wars was completely devoid of importance, but it doesn’t really fully capture what an empty shell of celluloid the movie actually is. Every action that Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson’s characters embark upon is stupid and makes no sense—why would two supposed best friends freak out over having the same wedding date when, I don’t know, they could just change the fucking date—but what is even more offensive is how superficial their roles (and the film’s plot) are. We don’t root for either character because neither one is fleshed out let alone likeable—to be perfectly honest, I barely noticed half of the shit that went on in the film, that’s how bored I was. The only things that kept me from falling asleep were the hotness of Chris Pratt and Bryan Greenwood (how many times did I watch “Everwood” and Prime solely for these two), both of which were completely underused. It is a sad day in chick-flick-dom when you have to rely on hot guys to get you through a film, but let’s be honest, there are and will be worse films (especially starring Kate Hudson).

Lily@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © Overture Films

Last Chance Harvey

Written and directed by: Joel Hopkins

Starring: Emma Thompson, Dustin Hoffman, Eileen Atkins, Kathy Baker, James Brolin, Liane Balaban, Richard Schiff.

There are very few movies that I turn to consistently when I am feeling lonely. Loneliness is such an ambiguous emotion—it often sneaks up on you, completely unannounced, and getting rid of it can prove just as difficult as determining the root of its cause. Bridget Jones Diary, “Pride and Prejudice,” Sense and Sensibility, these three are definitely touchstones for me, and now with the release of Joel Hopkins’ Last Chance Harvey, a new classic can be added to the list.

Dustin Hoffman is 71; Emma Thompson is 49. I make a point of referencing these two venerable actors’ ages because I think it is relevant to the films current box office success, or should I say, lack there of. A love story involving two actors over the age of 30 that doesn’t involve Brad Pitt or George Clooney is hard to sell to today’s audience. Add to that the fact that Last Chance Harvey is also a pretty hard sell in that it is far from your traditional love story and you have quite a gamble on your hands. Hoffman and Thompson play two people who have pretty much settled for what they’ve been given in life, and even sadder, think that they deserve it. They meet as all romantic leads meet, by chance, and through a series of seemingly-random coincidences, they discover that they are two lonely people who need each other and love each other, as Mark Darcy would say, “just as they are.”

Hoffman and Thompson reportedly improvised many of their scenes and it is to their credit that their chemistry is so enchanting. Hoffman is genuinely touching as Harvey, a frustrated musician who’s past mistakes weigh heavily on his shoulders. Watching him onscreen in this film, I was truly shamed for the many times that I dismissed him recently (although, to be fair, his roles have left a lot to be desired) and it made me want to embark on a “Hoffman Renaissance” immediately. And yet he was still no match for the great Emma Thompson (but really, who is?) Thompson’s Kate is heartbreakingly real—there was not one false note in her performance and every smile, grimace and sob rang so painfully true to the single woman’s experience. When I think of Thompson I always think of that scene in Sense and Sensibility when she learns that Hugh Grant’s character is not in fact married…when she lets out this guttural sob that comes pouring out unexpectedly. Now when I think of Emma Thompson I think of her as Kate in this film, sitting in a park in London explaining to Hoffman’s Harvey that she can’t love him because she can’t let him take her disappointment…because it is all that she has had for so long. Her fear and insecurity is written all of her face in that scene, and the emotions that are conveyed are so real that it is actually pretty painful to watch her. It is astounding to me that she was not nominated for an Oscar for her performance in Last Chance Harvey. As far as I’m concerned, she already won.

Lily@picturesandframesmagazine.com

DVD'S:

The Women (2008):

I recall reading years ago about “Murphy Brown” creator Diane English’s idea for remaking the classic film The Women and being really excited. Of course now there’s a part of me that thinks “how sacrilegious” and scoffs at the idea of classics being remade. Then I remember that I’m one of the few who thought that Gus Van Sant’s remake of Psycho was an interesting idea. (It’s going the shot-by-shot route that makes it pointless!) I mean, stage shows are brought back into production all the time and it doesn’t lessen the power or reputation of the original. Why not films? As English finally got to make her version of The Women last year, I grew more and more skeptical. Seeing the trailer made me kind of want to see it. Still, I waited until the DVD release.

And I guess I’m glad that I did. However, there was a bit of a bumpy start. Just after the beginning (a cute mirror of the original film’s opening fight between two dogs, sprinkled with a paraphrase of the original’s most famous line, “there’s a name for you ladies, but it isn’t used in high society… outside of a kennel.”) there is a moment that completely threw me out of a movie I hadn’t yet been able to really get into. As Annette Bening’s Sylvia (played in 1939 by Rosalind Russell) arrives at Saks Fifth Avenue, she tells her lapdog that they have a time limit of 5 minutes to shop. Which is when the screen suddenly looks like a videogame, with a digital display that targets items throughout the store, marking some as “must have!” It lasts for maybe a minute, a minute and a half, but its lameness is not easily escapable. It is also the only strange gag of its type in the entire film. (I don’t know why someone, anyone, didn’t have the sense to tell Diane English to cut this idea. Completely. Out of the script. First draft. It’s neither funny nor in keeping with anything else that happens throughout the film.) If no one thought to lose it for the fact that it is such a distracting moment, they ought to have thought about the money wasted on special effects! Immediately after this, the film continues on its original course, sending Sylvia to the manicurist who will gossip that Sylvia’s best friend, Mary Haines (played here by Meg Ryan and in the original by Norma Shearer), is being cheated on by her husband. The problem is that I’m still rolling my eyes, incredulous about what I’ve just seen. So I’m not exactly on board just yet.

Eventually I can focus again and I have to say that I really appreciate what English has done to update the story. In the 1939 film, as well as the play by Clare Boothe Luce, Sylvia and Edith (Debra Messing now, Phyllis Povah then) relish the gossip about Mr. Haines and his perfume counter girl (Eva Mendes is no Joan Crawford!), rather than caring about their “best friend” Mary. Of course, this was sort of the original point of The Women, which Boothe Luce wrote after marrying into high society and finding herself surrounded by these sort of two-faced catty women. She wrote the play as a sort of poison pen letter that can be summed up as “Dear phony bitches…” What English has done in her new version is made Sylvia and Edith true friends who are actually loyal to Mary. While that loyalty is eventually betrayed in a weak moment, the affection and connection between these women remains. The 1939 film had a tagline that said “It’s all about men!” but this time around, as English has said, it’s about women supporting one another, and ultimately about Mary pursuing her own identity.

But is it a good movie? I still don’t know. It’s definitely not as funny as its predecessor. I admire the ideas that Diane English has thrown into the mix, enjoyed some of the performances (Messing and Cloris Leachman in particular are fun), but I’ve seen it and that’s that. I think that fellow fans of the original would be better off approaching this not as a remake of The Women, but rather as a film inspired by The Women. I’d really like to see English create something original. I’m sure it would be good. However, in the end, I think I’ll just stick with Norma Shearer and Joan Crawford, like any self-respecting homosexual would.

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Magnificent Obsession: Criterion Collection

Douglas Sirk had a reputation for making beautiful Technicolor melodramas, the sort that Todd Haynes paid homage to in his film Far From Heaven (Sirk is also heavily referenced in films by Pedro Almodóvar). In fact, Far From Heaven inspired me to watch some of Sirk’s films and I fell in love. The best of these films (All That Heaven Allows, Imitation of Life and Written on the Wind) usually involve women approaching or in middle age, going through dramatic (sometimes overly dramatic) situations with super-charged emotions. In my favorite Sirk film, All That Heaven Allows, a recently widowed woman falls in love with her gardener, causing scandal among her social set. The couple in that film were played by Jane Wyman and Rock Hudson, but they were first paired up a year earlier in 1954’s Magnificent Obsession. The film had actually been made once before, in 1935. The first version, included on the second disc of this Criterion edition, starred Irene Dunne and Robert Taylor. The story involves a brash and wealthy young man and (again) a recently widowed woman. Tragedies abound, but of course love eventually blossoms. It is definitely a dramatic story, but the 1935 film had its share of humor. The remake, being a Sirk film, is overflowing with drama, not so much the humor. At least not intentionally.

There are two ways to see these sort of films: You can watch them as fodder for camp—the melodramatic dialogue, the stylized performances, the heavy strings and chorale… Rock Hudson. It’s all so ripe for the picking. However, there’s something to be said about simply enjoying it for being a very theatrical and gorgeously shot piece of cinema. Yes, it can be a bit overboard at times, a bit soap opera, but I have to admit that I’m a sucker for it every time. In the end, both films have their merit (I prefer Irene Dunne to Wyman, much like I prefer Dunne in Love Affair to Deborah Kerr in its remake, An Affair to Remember), but it is Sirk’s version that I know I’ll go back to on those cold, rainy days when I have a yen to watch something sad and romantic.

The Criterion edition includes a commentary by Thomas Doherty (author of Hollywood’s Censor, a book I have yet to get through) and a very long interview with Sirk (in German) that I turned off after 15 minutes. There are two great interviews with a pair of directors I particularly admire, Allison Anders and Kathryn Bigelow, both fans of Sirk. As much as I adore The Criterion Collection and all of the unique extras they add to their DVDs, this is one case where the movie is all that matters. Well, both movies.

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Then She Found Me (2008)

In her directorial debut, Helen Hunt plays April Epner, an introverted 39-year-old, recently married New York elementary schoolteacher with her biological clock ticking louder by the day. Raised in a traditional Jewish family, she couples with fellow teacher Ben (Matthew Broderick) in the hopes of moving closer to her dreams, but soon finds him traveling home to mama right before her adopted mother passes away. She is still determined to have and raise her own child.

A month later, her biological mother Bernice (Bette Midler) shows up looking for her in a larger-than-life whirlwind of personality and fame as a local cable talk-show star. Love weaves itself into the picture as April falls for Frank (Colin Firth), the handsome father of one of her young students. Frank is a single father, post-divorce, and quickly finds in his attraction deep and genuine feelings for her.

Based on the 1990 novel by Elinor Lipman, Hunt also co-wrote the screenplay with Alice Arlen and Victor Levin. As relationships develop throughout the film, characters grow most naturally: Firth as the charming rescuer; Broderick as the awkward best friend; and Midler as a connective, generous (Jewish) Mother Love. Hunt is tired and broken-looking in this film, not to mention particularly gaunt, through which much of her own personal life lived is expressed. While I hadn’t followed her in “Mad About You” or yet seen As Good As It Gets, I found her honest portrayal here perfectly simple and so strong. Despite the disappointments, confusions and pains of existence, April persists, stays, and holds on, intelligent and self-assured. As a viewer, it’s hard not to believe Hunt.

In the midst of newfound happiness at the end of the film, an affecting Jewish adage is shared, where a father was teaching his little son courage:

“’Jump!" he said, "and I'll catch you.’ And the little boy trusted him, and the little boy jumped. And when his father caught him, he felt filled with love. And when he didn't, he was filled with something else, something more...Life.”

Then She Found Me holds that hard-won light and understanding because of it.

Jehan@picturesandframesmagazine.com

MUSIC:

Bruce Springsteen – Working on a Dream

It’s hard for me to write about a new Bruce Springsteen album without writing about every Springsteen album. When you write about an artist that you love, that is home for you, distancing yourself from this admiration becomes crucial in evaluating any new material that they release. This is really, really hard but it is with this in mind that I listened to Springsteen’s latest CD, his 24^th album to date, Working on a Dream.

The first thing that struck me about the album is just how pop-oriented it was. Much like Magic, his last album, Working on a Dream is full of heartfelt rock ballads, precise hooks and choruses that are just begging to be sung. It makes sense considering that both albums were recorded within the same time frame, and almost the same recording session. But it is surprising to me nonetheless because the fact is that I never know what to expect from a new Springsteen album (and none of us fans could have known that he’d release two albums within a year of each other). The one thing that I can usually count on is to not go head-over-heels for the album’s first single. “Radio Nowhere,” the single off of Magic, was one of my least favorite songs on that record, and at first, “Working on a Dream” seemed to be following that trajectory. And then I paid attention to the song’s opening lines:

“Out here the nights are long the days are lonely

I think of you and I'm working on a dream

I'm working on a dream

The cards I've drawn's a rough hand darlin'

I straighten my back and I'm working on a dream

I'm working on a dream

I'm working on a dream

Though sometimes it feels so far away

I'm working on a dream

And how it will be mine someday”

This song really sets the trend for the rest of the album and offers a glimpse of Springsteen’s current mindset. There is no doubt that he was thinking of the landmark presidential election when he wrote it, but even songs like “Outlaw Pete,” with its haunting folkish refrain, “What Love Can Do” and “This Life,” both classic complicated love songs, “The Wrestler,” his superb ode to the lonely and downtrodden, and “The Last Carnival,” written for beloved friend and original E-Street member Danny Federici, who passed away in the spring of last year, all of these songs are filled with a sense of hope that lingers long after the songs are over. It is a testament to Springsteen and his band that they have made an album that is both extremely accessible to new fans, and yet as thoughtful and comforting to the rest of us who have been following the Jersey natives for years. I for one thought that with Federici’s passing, that I had seen the last of a new E-Street band record let alone tour; I was wrong on both counts…but being wrong has never felt this good.

Lily@picturesandframesmagazine.com

The Beach - OST

Slumdog Millionaire has just been nominated for ten Oscars, including one for best score and two for best song. But rather than discuss the music from this film which I enjoyed but wasn’t crazy about, I want to take this opportunity to revisit one of Danny Boyle’s most underrated yet totally brilliant soundtracks. Danny Boyle is the ear behind two of my favorite movie soundtracks of all time. (Just in case you are wondering, my other all time favorite Danny Boyle soundtrack is Trainspotting, but you already knew that.) This month I want to praise the director’s excellent taste in music and share with you a classic that always takes me back to The Beach.

The Beach is based on a novel written by English author and screenwriter Alex Garland. For all of you out there that don’t know who he is, Mr. Garland is the writer behind two other Danny Boyle classics: 28 Days Later and Sunshine. The Beach is a sobering reminder of the price you might pay to live in a utopian society and will leave you wondering how far you would go to protect your perfect piece of paradise. The soundtrack is an eclectic mix of electronic, pop and world music performed by some of today’s top artists. Featuring Moby, All Saints, Leftfield, Underworld, Sugar Ray, Asian Dub Foundation, Blur, Faithless, New Order, Orbital, Mory Kante, Barry Adamson, Angelo Badalamenti & Orbital, Dario G (Featuring Vanessa Quinones) and U.N.K.L.E. (Featuring Richard Ashcroft).

A great compilation of songs for any adventure, The Beach soundtrack is guaranteed to expand and energize your travel experience. I remember playing the shit out of this CD back in 2000. It was during a journey of personal discovery and adventure through the cities and towns of beautiful Colombia. The songs comforted me during many lonely nights and encouraged me to continue living every day to the fullest. I will never forget listening to the song “Beached” featuring Leonardo Dicaprio reciting his best lines from the movie:

“Trust me, it’s paradise. This is where the hungry come to feed. For mine is a generation that circles the globe in search of something we haven't tried before. So never refuse an invitation, never resist the unfamiliar, never fail to be polite and never outstay your welcome. Just keep your mind open and suck in the experience and if it hurts, you know what? It’s probably worth it. You hope, and you dream but you never believe that something is going to happen for you, not like it does in the movies and when it actually does you expect it to feel different, more visceral, more real, I was waiting for it to hit me. I still believe in paradise but now at least I know it's not some place you can look for. Cause it's not where you go. It's how you feel for a moment in your life and if you find that moment it lasts forever.”

This became my mantra during that period of my life. Now it’s part of a collection of mantras that make up my life. Nine years later the songs still sound as fresh and as relevant to me as they did back then. Nine years later a soundtrack inspired by Danny Boyle’s latest work is in line to win three Oscars. In a way this is what makes Danny Boyle such a great director—he is truly in tune with the world. He is a man that wants to share a message with you, through a story, visually, and with the most powerful tool of all, music. The message is simple: we are all connected and we are all responsible for each other so let’s not fuck it up, people. The Beach is a perfect blend of genres and artists brought together by a shared fascination of world exploration through music. This was after all the theme of the book and the film—go out there and explore because you never know what you might find. So read the book before watching the movie, see the movie then listen to the soundtrack while you book a flight to anywhere in the world you haven’t been before. Then when you get back from the trip don’t be surprised if you find yourself buying The Beach Motion Picture Score as well. I know I wasn’t.

Juanmarcos@picturesandframesmagazine.com

BOOKS:

Julia Leigh: The Hunter and Disquiet

About once a year, I pick up a random book and become so enamored with its author that I immediately dive into everything they’ve ever done. Jane Austen, Michael Chabon, Sarah Dunant and Dave Eggars have all been discoveries like this in the past. The last time was when, after reading the novel Enduring Love, I found myself astounded by Ian McEwan, thrusting myself into his each and every book, then immediately picking up the next one like the addict I clearly was. These names are the names of the writers I will fire off when asked about my favorite authors. They are the ones that I fell in love with after one taste and my hunger for more of their work remains for the most, insatiable.

And so it was with Australian author Julia Leigh. Having read an intriguing review for her novel, Disquiet, I picked it up with high hopes. It’s an incredibly slim volume, only 121 pages. In it, a woman shows up with her two young children to their ancestral home in France. She is seeking refuge, from what we do not know. Her mother has never seen the children because there’s been a break between these two women. At the same time, the woman’s brother returns (with his wife and “the bundle”) home to put something to rest. It’s an odd novel. The atmosphere creeps into you. Its characters are mysteries; your imagination is constantly being teased, you find yourself inferring this and then discovering that. In the end, despite its brevity, you wish for more. But you don’t feel cheated, because Disquiet is really quite perfect.

More, I wanted. More Julia Leigh! Much to my disappointment, I discovered that she’d only written one other book, The Hunter, in 1999. And it was out of print. Thanks to Amazon Marketplace, I secured a copy, although it didn’t arrive in time for the long train ride I was taking. Again, a short novel: 170 pages. I have to admit that I ordered it completely based on the fact that Leigh wrote it. I don’t think that I had even read a synopsis. Upon receiving it, I started to worry. It’s a novel about a man hunting the Tasmanian tiger, the last of a species believed to be extinct. Hunting in the Australian wilds? Not really my thing. Of course, then I found myself completely immersed in Leigh’s tale of a man we never really know, the people he meets, the family he stays with, and in fact, the thylacine he is hunting. To sum it up, Leigh took my breath away. Twice. I just hope that I don’t have to wait another decade for her third novel.

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

FOCUS:

Who We Are. By Rick Sayre

Synopsis: The Winterbottoms are a family living in Manhattan. Virginia is a Senator, her recently divorced ex, Seymour, is a celebrated novelist, whose newly published autobiography causes uproar among his family. Seymour is involved in a tumultuous affair with a fiery younger artist, Sarah Thomas. Hannah is the eldest child, from Seymour’s first marriage, a rising star in the publishing business. Heathcliff is the middle child, a screenwriter, who is dating John Taylor, despite the fact that he has always been in love with his ex, Ryan Cole, who works for Virginia. Allegra is the youngest daughter and Seymour’s favorite, a recent divorcee who is now confronting life as a single mother and trying to re-enter the world of dating in Manhattan.

Meet the Winterbottoms:

We enter the scene in the midst of a conversation. Hannah, Heath & Grant are all sitting in a café, finishing the last dregs of a meal and talking.

Hannah: So, are you going to see him again?

Grant: Absolutely not. He was a Log Cabin guy.

Hannah: Heath, please translate into heterosexual.

Heath: Gay Republican. Sorta rare, oddly they tend to be pretty hot. Although that wouldn’t matter to Grant. Or am I the only one who remembers Walter the anesthesiologist?

Grant: Ignore your brother, Hannah. He’s just jealous.

Heath: Uh-huh.

Grant: I’m totally serious.

Heath: Wait, do you honestly think I’m jealous that you’ve been nailed by every top in four out of the five boroughs?

Grant: (to Hannah) It’s true, I don’t do Staten Island. (to Heath) Honestly, yes. I think you’re insecure, you feel inexperienced. You wish you could just let go a little and be more open to new experiences.

Heath: Or in your case, wide open. My problem is that, like, 99.9% of the guys I’m attracted to are straight. I don’t really like most other gay men. I’m so homophobic that I even hate myself.

Hannah: Grant actually has a point. You’ve only been with a couple of guys.

Grant: What, like three?

Heath: Three! No. There was Matthew, then Paul, Vincent and Sean. And now John. That’s five, Miss Keeping Score.

Hannah: What about Ryan?

Heath: Ryan. Yeah. During the Great 43-Day Affair. Yes. Ryan makes it six.

Grant: Tell us all about sex with Ryan!

Heath: No.

Hannah: How is Ryan anyway?

Heath: I don’t really know.

Grant: Liar. You’ve probably seen him recently, enjoyed one of your “let’s just get together and talk” lunches.

Heath: Not lately. I talk to John, now.

Grant: Ten years from now? You and Ryan.

Hannah: Five.

Heath: Not talking about men anymore.

Hannah: We have to meet the family in twenty minutes, anyway.

Grant: What is this dinner about, anyway?

Hannah: Family gathering to discuss Dad’s autobiography.

Heath: Which I still don’t get. Are we going to perform a table reading? Can I play mom?

Grant: Wow, it’s been like five years since he’s written anything. How is it?

Heath: Actually… I haven’t read it yet. He’s been very mysterious. Hannah, have you seen it?

Hannah: No.

Heath: That’s weird, right?

Hannah: I guess we don’t rate copies anymore now that we’ve moved. Maybe he just doesn’t have the address to the apartment.

Heath: True. As far as Seymour Winterbottom is concerned, once you’re off the island, you’re off the map. He’s like those people who used to believe the world was flat. Once you’ve left Manhattan, you’ve pretty much sailed off the edge.

Grant: You only moved to Brooklyn.

Hannah: Yes, but it’s a big disappointment to him. Bigger than Heath being gay.

Heath: And a television writer.

CUT TO:

The Winterbottom Home. Allegra is in the foyer, dressed for dinner and sitting on a bench. A door is shut and occasionally, there are muffled voices heard from within. Hannah and Heath enter. Hannah greets her sister, Heath lingers behind.

Hannah: Hey, Allegra.

Allegra: Hey.

Heath: Is it safe?

Allegra: Shut up. The nanny took Adelle to Chuck E. Cheese.

Heath: Shame. Nothing spices up a night with the family like a howling banshee child.

Allegra: Fuck you, Heath.

Suddenly, the voices behind the closed door become loud and angry.

Hannah: What’s going on in there?

Allegra: I think dad’s getting his first review.

Heath: Have you read it?

Allegra: No. I didn’t even think that Mom had seen it yet.

Hannah: Doesn’t sound like it’s getting a starred review. What the hell?

The door bursts open and Seymour storms out, followed by Virginia, who holds the galley of the book in her hands.

Virginia: Honestly, Seymour, how could you have this published? Do you understand the gravity of this situation? This will just give my detractors a giant plate full of ammunition to use against me. You’ve absolutely-

Hannah: Mom, what’s going on?

Virginia: Your father, children, has managed to do what no one else has, not even the vile muckrakers who’ve spent the last three years trying to dig up dirt on me. His memoirs here will be the downfall of my career and probably our whole family.

Heath: …Thank God, I’m off the hook.

Virginia: Your father-

Seymour: Your mother is over reacting, as usual.

Virginia: You’re delusional! You have no idea what you’re doing to me, simply by having this published.

Seymour heads for the door, grabbing his coat.

Seymour: I’m sorry. I’m going to have to ask for a rain check, kids.

Allegra: Daddy, wait.

Virginia: I will get an injunction. I’m serious, Seymour. It’s become painfully clear that you don’t have even a shred of affection left for me, but if you care anything about your children, you will not publish this book.

Seymour: Virginia, my dear… Fuck off.

Seymour slams the door.

Allegra: Just great, you guys.

Allegra exits the door in a rush.

Hannah: Oh, my God. Mom, what’s going on? What did he write about that’s so-

Virginia: You know, Hannah. I- He just never considers the consequences of his actions.

Hannah: Okay. That tells us nothing.

Virginia: I’m sorry, sweetheart. Look, can we reschedule dinner for tomorrow night? We can discuss it then, I have a very early morning and…

Heath: (exchanging curious looks with Hannah) Sure, we can do that. Are you going to be all right, though?

Hannah: Yeah, you seem really upset.

Virginia: Tomorrow night. Heath, could you stay behind? I need to talk to you about something.

Hannah: I can wait if you two need to discuss-

Virginia: No, you go on ahead. I’ll have a car bring Heath home in a bit.

Hannah: Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.

Heath: See you when I get home.

Hannah exits. Heath visibly takes a deep breath.

Heath: What is it? Mom?

Virginia: We need to discuss something. When your father told me that he was going to write his memoirs, I was certain that he’d be respectful of some of the more-private aspects of our life together. I thought he’d be aware that whatever he wrote could have profound effects on our lives, all of our lives. Most of all, I expected that he would be sensitive when it came to you and your sisters and what he wrote about the three of you. As it turns out, he has looked back on his life unflinchingly and without regard to how some incidents he’s so- forthcoming about- could affect us now. (She begins to uncap a bottle of gin) Do you mind if I drink?

Heath: No.

Virginia: Okay. (She pauses and re-caps the bottle) Actually, I don’t think I will. Listen, I’m sure you’ve realized by now that Seymour and I always had a troubled relationship. Even though we stayed married until you’d begun college, we had almost called it quits countless times in the past. I know that you’re aware of his affairs. You may not be aware, however that I committed my own share of infidelities. Not that it compared remotely to the amount of times Seymour cheated on me. God damn him. I can’t believe that this is how you’re going to find this out. I’m sorry, Heath.

Heath: What are you trying to tell me? I don’t think I understand.

Virginia: One of the affairs that I had was in 1975, when your father was living in Venice, writing Close Your Eyes.

Heath: After I was born?

Virginia: No, sweetheart. Before you were born. For two years before you were born, until I was 4 months pregnant with you. (Again, with more certainty, she uncaps the bottle of gin) Seymour is not your father, Heath.

*The next day: Heath goes to see Ryan.

Ryan: Oh my God. Heath.

Heath: Okay, you can stop saying that.

Ryan: What did Allegra have to say about it? I’m sure she’s in hog heaven knowing that she’s only half related to you.

Heath: Allegra doesn’t know. I don’t think she does, anyway. Maybe she does, maybe she’s always known. Maybe that’s why she hates me so much.

Ryan: How about John boy? What does he think about this?

Heath: ...Stop calling him John boy.

Ryan: He doesn’t know yet? You told me first.

Heath: Yes, Ryan, I told you first. We could always talk, that was never our problem.

Ryan: Plus, you know that anything that happens with your family pales in comparison to my insane parents.

Heath: That, too.

Ryan: Plus, the sex was great.

Heath: …Yep.

Ryan: Why aren’t we together, again?

Heath: Because you chose Drew over me. Except for the Great 43-Day Affair. Remind me, how long did you wait after I boarded the plane to London until you went back to him?

Ryan: That’s right. I was an indecisive bastard, wasn’t I?

Heath: Yeah, you were. Are you seeing anyone now?

Ryan: Depends. If you’re asking because you’re thinking about ditching John boy and giving us another try, the answer is no.

Heath: That’s not why I’m asking.

Ryan: Too bad. When are you going to tell him?

Heath: I don’t know. Tonight. I have to see my father, though. …Seymour.

The Great 43 Day Affair:

The Hamptons. June 2002. Sunday Morning 2AM:

I willed my hand free from his. I took a step backwards, losing my balance for a split second. I leaned against his car, my hand on the still warm hood.

          "I'm going to London, Ryan."

          "I know," he said, and I exhaled, frustrated at the warm drop I felt moving down my cheek. "What?"

"I'm mad. I'm mad at you because here you are, and you're kissing me, and it's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. But in 43 days, I'm going to be in London, Ryan, and you'll be here. And despite the fact that I've spent the last six years wanting exactly this, to be here, to be with you," I stopped to breathe while the internal battle between my heart and my head waged stronger than ever, "I can't choose you, Ryan. I can't, as much as I want to. Even though I've waited for you, waited through every stupid guy you went for-waited through Drew, I can't-" I couldn't say any more, reeling from the fact that for once, my brain was the Judas to my heart instead of the other way round. "I can't stay," I finished.

There was a silence. He stood next to me. Our arms were touching, both of us sticky from the humid night air and the heat between us. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "You’ll be gone for six months, yes. We have 43 days, though. Can we see where that takes us?" I kept my eyes on the starless sky, on a moon that was close to being full. My mouth opened a couple of times, my shoulders shrugged, but I didn't have a word to say because I felt like God's biggest punch-line. "Trust me, in 43 days you won't like me as much. You'll be glad to leave me behind."

"Would you swear to that? Do a really good job. Do something to really piss me off, so I won't miss you when I leave."

"Oh, I'll make you hate me completely," he said, while his fingers re-entwined with mine.

"I love you," I said in a tone that sounded very much like: I can't believe that I'm still in love with you. I pulled him towards me and moved my hand up and down his spine, kissing his forehead, the side of his face, his neck.

"I'm sure I'll fuck that up."

"Ha," I said.

Heath and Seymour:

The door had barely opened before Heath said, “Is that how you wanted me to find out? In your fucking book?”

Sarah Batiste, gorgeous and mocha-skinned with a honeyed voice said, “Ah. Heath-“

Heath was startled, then apologetic, then frazzled. Then angry again, “Where is he, Sarah? Did you know about this? Did you know that he was going to tell the whole world I’m his illegitimate son in his fucking book before even telling me?”

“I knew about you, Heathcliff. When he started writing, I told him that he had to talk to you first. But your father and confrontation, communication, even-“

“Please, Sarah. Is he here?”

Seymour appeared from his leather-bound, smoke-filled workroom, the only place in the apartment he shared with Sarah that really had his imprint. He opened his mouth and shut it again. Finally, “I know I handled this the wrong way. I didn’t know what to say to you.”

Heath had never felt as sorry for his father as he did just then. “You asshole. You’ve never really known me well. Something like this. It wasn’t going to break me. The simple fact that you and I aren’t blood relatives doesn’t make me love you any less. It doesn’t change who I am. Who we are. I’m 33-years-old. I’ve had a pretty good life. And when things weren’t good it was because I was doing my damnedest to fuck them up. I’ve never had illusions about you. Or mom. I know that neither of you are perfect people. But you’re my family and I love you. Even though there are times I want to murder you both in cold blood. But to let me find out like this? That’s what makes me feel like I’m not your son. That’s what makes me feel so hurt and so abandoned.”

“I’m not abandoning you, Heath. You’ll never be any less important to me than Allegra or Hannah. I know, I know that I ought to have told you before. Frankly, I thought Virginia would have had the tact to let us discuss this rationally, together. This relationship though, the affair between her and Martin fucking Hewitt, it had such a profound effect on our lives and inevitably, my writing-“

Heath suddenly becomes intently focused on Seymour. “Martin Hewitt? Did you say Martin Hewitt?”

“Yes, that fucking- Didn’t your mother tell you it was him?”

Heath’s face crumpled because it was taxed with despair, anger and disgust. He took a ragged breath, a quaking gasp. “She didn’t. We didn’t talk about that. I didn’t ask.”

Seymour’s head shook, his mouth hung open. “No. It’s hardly important, is it?”

Heath struggled to keep from doubling over. “I can’t talk about this anymore. I can’t now.”

Seymour’s eyes welled up with sympathy. “Why don’t you stay a while? We can have dinner, we can talk. About other things. Anything you want.”

Heath already had his hand on the doorknob, though.

Once he was downstairs, after almost vomiting in the empty elevator, Heath moved slowly out the doors. Every breath he took was slow and deliberate. He was trying to keep it together, to stay calm.

 Upstairs, in the apartment, Sarah whispered to the weeping Seymour, “It just made everything real. You know? It’s one thing for him to find out that you’re not his father. Another thing entirely to find out who this person is.” Outside, on the street, Heath passed by the bushes surrounded by those strange spiked fences that you find all over town. He stopped and touched them. Sharp. He wrapped both hands around them, cold metal. What are these here for? So the pigeons won’t stoop in front of someone’s apartment? He’s always wondered. He often sees them, walking through the city and imagines himself squeezing them. He does it. Hard. The sharp edges cut into his meaty palms. There is a deep intake of breath and after a moment, that strange sense of calm that he’s experienced so many times before, the one that follows the sharp shock of pain. Heath suddenly remembered where he was and knew where he wanted to be. He stuffed both hands into his pockets and walked downtown.

CUT TO:

Heath walking downtown as the sun sets on the city.

CUT TO:

Ryan in his apartment, the door buzzer sounding.

CUT TO:

Heath in a hallway, rushing.

CUT TO:

Ryan opening his door.

CUT TO:

George, an older gentleman, opening his door.

The door had barely opened before George saw Heath standing in front of him, shaking and crying. When Heath wiped a tear away with his hand, it left stains from his bloody palm across his face.

 “Heath, what happened? Come in,” George said. “I’m glad that you called me.”

CUT TO:

Ryan ushering in some random hot guy, saying, “So are we gonna do this?”

CUT TO:

Heath was crying so hard that it was difficult to make out what he was saying: “I wanna drink. I want- I really want to drink, George…”

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

SPOTLIGHT:

Liev Schreiber

October 4th, 1967

Range is a word often used when describing actors. It can mean a number of things, depending on the context in which it is used. Perhaps the most common definition as it applies to acting, would refer to how many different things an actor can do and do well. Their variety of roles, their ability to seamlessly shift between pathos and comedy, being sympathetic or outright loathsome, and accomplishing all these feats while holding our attention with such power and grace, that the actor’s audience dare not look away. One such actor that comes to mind when considering the aforementioned traits is Liev Schreiber.

          On October 4, 1967 in San Francisco, California, Isaac Liev Schreiber was born to parents Heather and Tell, a painter and theater actor, respectively. As a child, Schreiber and his parents moved to Canada. After several years Tell and Heather divorced and Schreiber and his mother moved to the Lower East Side in New York.

          Schreiber first studied acting at Hampshire College before graduating from the Yale School of Drama. Later he attended the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London. In the mid-nineties, he got several supporting roles in films such as Party Girl and Mad Love, and most notably as the outcast transvestite in 1994’s Mixed Nuts.

          1996 would be the year that Schreiber’s film career would get a boost from every possible angle. The first of many supporting roles in big-budget films would come with a part in Ron Howard’s thriller Ransom. Also that year Schreiber played Carl Petrovic in The Daytrippers. Featuring a brilliant ensemble cast that included Hope Davis, Parker Posey, Campbell Scott and Stanley Tucci, The Daytrippers is a uniquely written and performed comedy. Schreiber’s Carl is an elitist writer who seems obsessed with endlessly bantering about the ignorance of modern man and the ills of a society that ranks frivolous entertainment above intellectual creativity. Carl Petrovic is a tricky role to play. It is easy to make him completely irritating and contemptuous. Schreiber, however, walks the fine line with guile, making Carl someone we very nearly grow tired of before using his acerbic wit to make us grin and find him tolerable again, at least until the next time he tempts the edges of the precipice point.

          Arguably the most well-known turn for Schreiber in 1996 was in Wes Craven’s revisionist slasher film Scream. Playing falsely convicted murderer Cotton Weary, Schreiber merely exists in flashes throughout the first film. But by the time the trilogy reaches its final installment, Cotton Weary turns out to be a most interesting character arc. We first meet him as a seemingly cold-blooded killer. Cotton is then featured in the middle film as a man demanding fame and fortune to compensate for years of unjust incarceration, and finally in the last film we are shocked and actually upset to see his fate. Schreiber breathes life into a character that could easily be seen as just one of the many potential suspects or villains that are part of the killing sprees. His most featured role in the series is in the second film, but it is his performance in the early minutes of the trilogy’s end that stand out.

          Throughout the late 1990’s Schreiber enjoyed consistent success in a variety of supporting roles in films like Jakob the Liar, The Hurricane and A Walk on the Moon. As the decade came to a close, Schreiber gave two of my personal favorite performances in his body of work.

          Co-starring alongside Ned Beatty, Schreiber played Paul in Spring Forward. Paul is a recently released ex-con who gets a job working for the Parks and Recreation Department of a small Connecticut town. He works alongside Murph (Beatty) who is a year away from retirement. As the two men work side by side every day, they form a bond, sometimes best friends, sometimes surrogate father and son, always confidantes. Schreiber’s performance is remarkably touching, never overtly sentimental, but rather hitting each character driven note just as it should be. Schreiber gives the audience superb moments throughout the film that make you feel every ounce of the humanity that Spring Forward centers itself on.

          Taking on an ambitious character to play in 1999, Schreiber accepted the role in HBO’s film RKO 281 as a twenty-five year old Orson Welles, embarking on his feature film directorial debut with Citizen Kane. Schreiber’s portrayal of Welles is heartfelt, respectful and utterly mesmerizing. Like all good actors playing real life (and more importantly, highly recognizable people), Schreiber doesn’t bother with intricate mimicry, but rather attempts to embody Welles. It is no easy task, but Schreiber succeeds in his endeavor. Speech patterns and mannerisms are just the beginning of his well-crafted performance. Schreiber appears to capture Welles’ unquenchable passion, artistic arrogance and delicate ego. For his performance in RKO 281, Schreiber received Emmy and Golden Globe nominations.

          Over the next few years, Liev Schreiber would find a balance between roles in “bigger” Hollywood movies including The Sum of All Fears, Kate and Leopold and The Manchurian Candidate, and a consistent return to work on the stage. Highly respected as a Shakespearean actor, Schreiber has appeared on the professional stage in a variety of the bard’s works. Among these are “Macbeth,” “Cymbeline” and the title roles in both “Henry V” and “Hamlet.” Additionally he received the Tony Award for Best Actor for his role as Ricky Roma in the 2005 revival of David Mamet’s “Glengarry Glen Ross,” and garnered massive critical acclaim for his performance in 2007’s revival of “Talk Radio.”

          After repeatedly proving himself an accomplished actor, Live Schreiber showed that he is an equally gifted filmmaker in 2005 when he directed and wrote the screenplay adaptation of Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel Everything is Illuminated. The film is one of the finest and most moving pictures I have seen in recent years. The emphasis of the film is placed on human relationships and how those carry across generations. It is about history, in all forms: family history, history of a nation, society and the civilized world. Schreiber uses great cinematic technique to make the point that the learning and passing down of history is almost as important as the history itself.

          In recent years Liev Schreiber has portrayed a variety of characters in a variety of films, from Hollywood blockbusters like the remake of The Omen to romantic epics like the adaptation of Somerset Maugham’s The Painted Veil and Love in the Time of Cholera, directed by Mike Newell.

          Most recently Schreiber has been seen in Edward Zwick’s Defiance, a World War II drama about three Jewish brothers who join the Russian resistance against the Nazi army.

          Each of the works that make up Schreiber’s stage and screen career build a more than impressive resume, creating for Liev Schreiber the well-deserved reputation as an actor with extraordinary range.

David@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Select Liev Schreiber Filmography:

Mixed Nuts (1994)

Party Girl (1995)

Mad Love (1995)

Walking and Talking (1996)

The Daytrippers (1996)

Ransom (1996)

Scream (1996)

Scream 2 (1997)

Phantoms (1998)

Sphere (1998)

Twilight (1998)

A Walk on the Moon (1999)

Jakob the Liar (1999)

The Hurricane (1999)

RKO 281 (1999)

Spring Forward (1999)

Hamlet (2000)

Scream 3 (2000)

The Sum of all Fears (2002)

The Manchurian Candidate (2004)

Everything is Illuminated (2005) [as writer and director]

The Omen (2006)

The Painted Veil (2006)

The Ten (2007)

Love in the Time of Cholera (2007)

Defiance (2008)