The Fat Lady Sings

Time for Miracles

Time For Miracles

Adam Lambert | MySpace Video

 

Here we go my friends.  Hot off the presses.  So tell me.....how exactly do you spell superstar?  Why Adam Lambert, of course.  This boys gonna be huge.

Avatar

James Cameron's newest film opening this December.  All I can say is 'wow!'  He'll blow everyone out of the theatre with this one.  And FINALLY the technology is available to make Anne McCaffrey's 'Pern' series!  I'd always planned on directing it myself, actually (or playing one of the roles).  Too damn tall for Lessa (though I identified with her the most) – so I’d always imagined playing Kylara (I can do tall, blond and evil).  But that was eons ago.  Now I’m more suited for Manora, damn the luck.  Ah well.  Time, no matter how much we indulge in magical thinking, just won’t cooperate and stand still.  I look at my reflection, and wonder who that stranger is.  She surely can’t be me!  As for my health......that I'll have to tackle at another time, in another post.  Keep those positive thoughts coming, my friends. 

Love on a Lake - 'Rose Marie'

 

Just had to post this.  ‘Rose Marie’ is my favorite Nelson Eddy/Jeanette Macdonald film.  This scene is why.  Eddy isn’t often remembered for his subtle comic timing – which is a pity, ‘cause he’s a delight.  Up till this point, Macdonald’s character has practically chewed the scenery into microscopic bits.  Thank heavens Eddy softens that by grounding her in reality.  His character thinks she’s cute and funny – lightly teasing her, confounding her (and our) expectations.  It’s the last line that’s the killer – that and Eddy's deft delivery.  No matter how many times I watch it – it still elicits a laugh.  Enjoy.

 

BTW – some of my health issues seem to be coming to a head this week.  I’ve a doctor’s appointment that may shed a little light on what’s been going on.  I’ll update as soon as I know.  Thanks for everyone’s patience at my infrequent (not to mention schizophrenic) postings.    

 

Resurrection

 

A whole lotta years ago I had a chance to play one of those roles that actors often dream of, but very rarely get.  The play was called ‘Resurrection’.  It’s about a woman who, in surviving a terrible accident, discovers she suddenly has the power to heal.  There’s a particular monologue where she tries to explain (to herself, as much as to anyone else) what happens inside…..the triggers, the clicks – those spaces between her soul and god that reach out when the healing happens.  It took me a while to be able to perform it.  Not because she was too alien, or the experiences too far out of my ken (it wasn’t – I knew EXACTLY what all that felt like) – but because whoever wrote the character knew and understood that destruction lies at the heart of every epiphany.  You cannot build without tearing down.  Well I’d lived through that kind of sea change.  Different names, different circumstances – but I knew.  Because of that - there could be no wall between me and the audience – no plausible deniability.  All that I was, all that I felt – my worst fears and most terrifying beliefs - haunted every second of that performance.  It was wrenching.  I couldn’t hardly watch myself on tape (still can’t).

 

Mickey Rourke’s performance in ‘The Wrestler’ is just like that.  And he can’t watch it either.  I saw him tonight in an interview – he turned away, tears in his eyes.  He was re-living those moments; I saw it in the set of his shoulders, the angle of his chin.  That was real.  What you see up on that screen is real.  Every hurt – physical and psychic – hits home with devastating accuracy.  ‘The Wrestler’ is Rourke’s epiphany.  Shooting that film must have been grinding.  I certainly hope it was worth the pain – that in the end, some of his personal dragons went down.  So I’d say go see it – go see the resurrection of one of the best actors of his generation - but be prepared, ‘cause it will resurrect the bones of your own dead, and beat you senseless in the process.