Articulate talk, sophisticated emotions and intelligent restraint are rare commodities in short supply these days. Mike Nichols’s elegant revival of Harold Pinter’s play Betrayal enhances all three virtues.
“Betrayal” is actually a pretty good description of what the Broadway experience can feel like these days.
Sitting in the $92 cheap seats on the first night of previews for director Mike Nichols’ play felt like being a gargoyle, crouching in the rafters of some medieval banquet hall.
Maybe having your legs pinioned so that you can rest your chin on your knees is the perfect contemplative pose in which to receive a Harold Pinter play. But up in the back, at least, the audience was there to see Daniel Craig.
The big question the pessimists are asking about Skyfall, the 23rd entry in the James Bond franchise: Does 007 still have a license to keep an audience alert? The answer: And how! Some of the exhilaration faded when Sean Connery lost his hair and took a powder, but 50 years after Ian Fleming’s super-cool agent from Her Majesty’s Secret Service was shot from a cannon into movie history, Bond is back, and so is high-octane entertainment.
Skyfall may not reach the sophisticated heights of Casino Royale, but it’s better than the lollygagging Quantum of Solace.With buff, camera-ready Daniel Craig lending fresh fisticuffs to the role, and acclaimed director Sam Mendes adding more realism and fewer jokes than in most Bond pictures, it’s a satisfying entertainment that delivers a kangaroo kick from start to finish.
The Eight-Day Week
We’re not ready to throw in the towel on the moviegoing just yet, but we’ll admit we’re ready for a break from the heavier fare. Today we’re dropping by the Museum of Modern Art for a Bond double-header, with screenings of Diamonds Are Forever (Sean Connery, kind of campy, Jill St. John as the girl, Read More
fall arts preview
Paul Thomas Anderson
Saturday Night Live has announced its bookings for the first three episodes of the new season, and it’s a gentlemen’s club of sorts. First up is Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane with musical guest Frank Ocean on September 15; following that are Premium Rush actor Joseph Gordon-Levitt and nu-folk band Mumford & Sons on September 22, and James Bond Read More
The big story of the Olympics’ first weekend, for those waiting for the quadrennial sports fever to break, was the sudden omnipresence of Daniel Craig, who appeared in an Opening Ceremony skit with Queen Elizabeth and saw the teaser for his new Sam Mendes-directed Bond film, Skyfall, drop. Not much new information is revealed, here–it Read More
In the blood-soaked hands of the hair-raising, always surprising director David Fincher, the creepy remake of Sweden’s grisly thriller The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is dreary and confusing but technically superb—a darkly photographed and superbly acted film. It is not my cup of bitter tea laced with arsenic, but I admire its tenacity in keeping the viewer dazzled, while the toxic effect of its violence, sometimes unwatchable, left me charged. I hated the 2009 Swedish film version, my dashed attempt to read the book (the first volume in the crime trilogy by the late, overrated Swedish novelist Stieg Larsson) put me to sleep faster than a double-dose of Dalmane, and I still don’t understand why it has been recycled in an estimated $100 million remake as unnecessary as it is unoriginal. It is also impossibly long-winded. When it ended, after just under a whopping three hours, I ended up impressed, in spite of my reservations. If I had found it even half as incomprehensible as it is, I might have liked it twice as much.
Oh, my god, that plot.
Kathy Bolkovac had an even-keeled reaction when The Observer told her Rachel Weisz had called her a hero. “I really reject that title” she said matter-of-factly. Nevertheless, last Wednesday evening, scores of socialites and celebrities descended upon Tribeca for the premiere of Ms. Weisz’s new film, The Read More
Cowboys & Aliens is one of the silliest movies ever made, but so many otherwise serious people have attached their names to it that, as Arthur Miller wrote in Death of a Salesman, attention must be paid. Steven Spielberg and Ron Howard are among the tangle of producers whose credits stretch from here to the Read More