Tag Archives: Musical

#48: Evita (1996)

07 Sunday Dec 2014

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(Best sung to “Rainbow Tour”)
 
Argentina never saw such a clamor
As when dear Evita said her last goodbye.
Nobody ever thought their favorite saint could die.
But despite the Rainbow Tour and the glamor,
There was a time when this national treasure
Was unknown.
Eva Duarte fled the life the poor carries
And found ways of earning more than simple bread,
Exchanging her partners for a higher bed.
As the premier actress in Buenos Aires,
At last she was introduced to
Juan Peron.
 
Though Eva wasn’t well-received
By most of the Argentine elite.
She made it clear that the people believed
That she still was for them from her loftier seat.
 
Governments in Argentina were not known
For being very stable over many years.
Peron was soon imprisoned by his fellow peers.
Eva and her devotees then freed Peron
And her influence just kept growing
All the time.
All her talk and stabs at granting some wishes
Did not change the status of the lowly poor
Or that her opponents thought she was a whore.
Aspirations proved a bit too ambitious;
Her body just couldn’t keep going
Past its prime.
 
Though Eva had a humble past
And a dubious rise to wealth and fame,
Her early death left the nation aghast.
Argentina would not evermore be the same.
_______________
 

Before Andrew Lloyd Webber found success with Cats and The Phantom of the Opera, and long before Tim Rice contributed splendid lyrics to Aladdin and The Lion King, they collaborated to create Evita, one of my favorite musicals of all time. Whereas Phantom has an overall operatic sensibility that indulges in some electric guitar here and there, Evita is much more of a rock opera, with very little spoken dialogue and a number of distinct but interweaving tunes, ranging from head-banging anthems to plaintive Latin elegies.

This film version was a revelation in several ways. In addition to being a lavish production that enhanced the impact of nearly every song, it marked the pinnacle of Madonna’s professional career, winning her a Golden Globe for Best Actress. Casting the “Material Girl” in the title role may have been an iffy decision, but she embodied the character’s dichotomy of sleaze and sensitivity. Though her voice may not be as strong as that of the original Evita’s Patti LuPone, she nails each melody and affords more vulnerability in songs like “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina.” In addition to Madonna’s acting high, the film revealed, at least to me, that Antonio Banderas (not to mention Jonathan Pryce) could sing. As the everyman Che who follows Eva throughout her life, Banderas provides cynical commentary on her rise to power and often represents the Argentine people in general, well-symbolized by their tango toward the end. Pryce is also excellent as Peron, although he looks inexplicably bored in certain scenes. Though Evita’s alleged sexual escapades are described in song, I appreciate that the filmmakers didn’t feel it necessary to depict them in graphic detail, choosing instead the more artistic motif of a light going out, later echoed in Eva’s death scene.

My favorite songs would have to be “Oh, What a Circus,” “Goodnight and Thank You,” “The Lady’s Got Potential,” “A New Argentina,” “And the Money Kept Rolling In,” “Rainbow High,” and of course, “Rainbow Tour.” My VC is also quite fond of “High Flying, Adored,” which is one of a series of five great songs in a row. A song added for the film, “You Must Love Me” also won the Best Original Song Oscar that year. The songs are enjoyable to listen and sing along to on their own, but the film’s pageant and cast of thousands give it added depth and spectacle that make up for the moral and political deficiencies of the characters.

Though oppressive mournfulness causes the beginning and end to drag, and I can’t really relate to such outward grief at the death of a politician (seriously, even if my favorite public figure died today, I doubt I would be moved to such uninhibited tears), Evita is a grand and poignant history lesson. With exquisite acting and singing, Lloyd Webber’s earbugging melodies, and some of the finest lyrics of Tim Rice’s career, Evita marks one of the high points in musical cinema.

Best line: (Eva, to Magaldi, a former flame who sings the same song repeatedly) “Your act hasn’t changed much.”  (Magaldi, noting her new lover) “Neither has yours.”

VC’s best line: (Eva) “Sometimes it’s very difficult to keep momentum when it’s you that you are following.”

VC’s other best line: (Eva) “I came from the people. They need to adore me, so Christian Dior me from my head to my toes. I need to be dazzling. I want to be rainbow high! They must have excitement—and so must I!”

 
Rank: 57 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

265 Followers and Counting

#49: The Lion King (1994)

06 Saturday Dec 2014

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(Best sung to “Be Prepared”)
 
The pridelands rejoiced at the showing
Of Simba, the new lion prince.
His father Mufasa was glowing,
But Scar has been sour ever since.
While Simba is learning and dreaming
Of when he’ll be king fully grown,
Mufasa’s own brother is scheming
To murder his way to the throne.
 
He employs his hyena companions
To dispose of the cub and his dad,
A sudden stampeding
Of wildebeest speeding
Puts Simba in peril,
And Scar, ever feral,
Dispatches Mufasa,
And yet for this loss, a
Despicable Scar tells the lad,
That Simba is sadly to blame.
What a shame!
 
The cub runs away in dejection
And would have soon died, but for friends.
Hakuna Matata’s protection
Lets Simba ignore what offends.
His past, nonetheless, comes a-knocking
To urge him return for what’s his,
But not until storm clouds start talking
Does Simba accept who he is.
 
He returns to the land Scar has ruined;
He returns final justice to bring.
The truth is then spoken;
Scar’s cover is broken.
In Pride Rock’s arena,
Scar and each hyena
Are fought and defeated,
And Simba is treated
At last as the genuine king.
The Circle of Life, tried and true,
Starts anew.
_____________
 

Often considered the zenith of the Disney Renaissance, The Lion King is indeed one of Disney’s greatest features, a step away from the princess mold in favor of Shakespearean drama, though still with the perfect blending of humor and show tunes. Officially the third highest-grossing animated film (after Frozen and Toy Story 3), it was a joy to watch as a child and is still just as delightful.

The beginning could be compared to that of Up, a moving collection of beautifully crafted scenes that mark the high point of the entire film, though sparking a sense of grandeur and goose bumps rather than tears. The rest of the film doesn’t quite reach the same level as the first glorious song, though it tries and comes very close, particularly during the wildebeest stampede through the canyon. That scene, accompanied by Hans Zimmer’s ever-ideal score, carries the tension and terror of a childhood trauma, further deepened by Mufasa’s death. Usually, it’s the mother that gets it in Disney films, but their foray into explicit fratricide is even more heartrending than most parental losses. After all, Bambi never found his mother’s lifeless body.

Despite the occasionally weighty material, the filmmakers peppered the film with plenty of jokes and memorable characters that captivated kids and parents alike. Boasting some of the best casting of any Disney film, The Lion King featured some big names that truly owned their characters: James Earl Jones as deep-throated Mufasa, Jonathan Taylor Thomas as young Simba, Nathan Lane as nasally meerkat Timon, Ernie Sabella as swinish Pumbaa, Robert Guillaume as sagacious mandrill Rafiki, Rowan Atkinson as nagging hornbill Zazu, and Cheech Marin and Whoopi Goldberg as two hilarious hyenas. Though Matthew Broderick doesn’t exactly fit my idea of a lion’s voice, Oscar winner Jeremy Irons lends gravity and sneering treachery to Scar, one of Disney’s best villains.

However, the film’s greatest strength is its music, which was a gamble, since unlike previous Renaissance efforts, it lacked Alan Menken’s involvement. Yet Elton John and Tim Rice fashioned one of the most popular of Disney soundtracks, from the carefree jubilance of “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” and “Hakuna Matata” to the building menace of “Be Prepared” to the sultry romance of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” Elton John’s cover of that last love ballad deserves a place in my End Credits Song Hall of Fame. (Trivia note: I didn’t realize until recently that Jeremy Irons only sang most of “Be Prepared”; after straining his voice on the line “You won’t get a sniff without me,” the song was finished by Jim Cummings, who provided the hysterical laughter of the hyena Ed. Now that I’m listening for it, I can hear Cummings’s voice, but it’s a credit to his voice talent that he could sound so similar to Irons.)

The film and its music were also adapted into the hugely successful Broadway play, and the film and play have supposedly made The Lion King the highest grossing title in stage-and-screen history. While I do like other Disney films better, The Lion King’s enthralling animation and music and prudent life lessons make it a Renaissance classic to be cherished for years to come.

Best line: (an emerging gopher, again played by Cummings, to Zazu) “Sir, news from the underground.” (That just cracks me up every time!)

 
Rank: 57 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

264 Followers and Counting

#55: Mary Poppins (1964)

29 Saturday Nov 2014

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(Best sung to “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”)
 
Since nannies are commodities that rarely stick around,
George Banks decides to advertise, and ugly ones abound,
But then comes Mary Poppins, floating gently to the ground,
Poppins proves prodigiously the proper one’s been found.
 
She shows the kids to make a game
From every daily chore,
To jump into a chalky frame
For holidays galore,
 
To laugh their way into the air
With jubilant come-uppance
And note the woman in the square
Who sells bird seed for tuppance.
 
A visit to their father’s bank creates a sudden run,
And Mr. Banks’s temper scares his daughter and his son.
They flee to Bert the chimney sweep for roof-cavorting fun.
He suggests their father needs some help like everyone.
 
Mr. Banks is overwhelmed by miseries of late,
As if dear Mary Poppins came his life to desecrate,
But then he sees the comedy and joy most underrate,
And Mary Poppins leaves them in a more-than-happy state.
__________________
 

The height of Disney-esque whimsy, Mary Poppins is one of the most beloved family musicals of all time and lies within my VC’s top 20 films. Though she loves it a tad more than I, there’s no denying the fanciful joy of this adaptation of P. L. Travers’ literary nanny.

Julie Andrews won a Best Actress Oscar for her no-nonsense charm as Mary Poppins herself, and Dick Van Dyke matches her with his usual vigorous charisma, despite his affected British accent. The entire cast is wonderful, though if I had to find fault, I’d say that Karen Dotrice and Matthew Garber as Jane and Michael Banks don’t have much character aside from generic cuteness, though I suppose that allows for ease in audiences placing themselves in their shoes. (Trivia note: Most of those nannies gathered at the Banks home before Mary Poppins arrives were actually male stuntmen. No wonder they were ugly.)

The film’s greatest strength is its music, provided by the unrivalled Sherman Brothers, whose jolly tunes and clever lyrics are instant classics. Not every one is hummable, but “A Spoonful of Sugar,” “Let’s Go Fly a Kite,” and the Oscar-winning “Chim Chim Cheree” continue to reside in the mind of countless viewers. “I Love to Laugh” and Poppins’ bipolar Uncle Albert always earn a smile from my family, though my favorites would have to be “Jolly Holiday” and “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” thanks to the expertly composited animation sequences that Travers herself so despised. “Step in Time” is one of the film’s many high points too, though more due to the rigorous choreography than the comparatively simple lyrics. Despite the film’s overall joyous appeal, “Feed the Birds” (with or without the words) somehow brings tears to my VC’s eyes every time.

After having seen Saving Mr. Banks, there were certain scenes on this latest viewing that I couldn’t help but recall that making-of drama, such as Mr. Banks’s lament over Mary Poppins’ frustrating influence, which supposedly mirrored the annoyance caused by Travers and her nitpicking. The 2013 film also deepened the sorrows of Mr. Banks, which I never fully understood as a kid. While Saving Mr. Banks surpasses Mary Poppins as far as dramatic narrative, there’s no replacing the sheer fun and inventiveness of the original.

Mary Poppins is not only Uncle Walt’s best live action film, but arguably his best during his lifetime. Possessing a childish delightfulness that nullifies criticism, it’s a film of true magic (and not just the cleverly creative effects), a magic every child should experience.

Best line: (Mary Poppins, reading her self-descriptive tape measure) “As I expected. ‘Mary Poppins, practically perfect in every way.’”

VC’s best line: (Bert) “Speakin’ o’ names, I know a man with a wooden leg named Smith.”  (Uncle Albert) “What’s the name of his other leg?”

 
Rank: 57 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

260 Followers and Counting

#58: Singin’ in the Rain (1952)

27 Thursday Nov 2014

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(Can be sung to the title song)
 
The 1920s saw
The cinematic draw
Of talking motion pictures
That filled the folks with awe.
Don Lockwood, a star,
And Lina Lamont
Are shocked by the change
And a young debutante.
 
Although Lina is shrill,
They both try talkies still.
Don and his friend think
Kathy’s voice fits the bill.
Don’s love will begin
To sing and fill in
For Lina,
To Lina’s own chagrin.
 
The film they revise
Will soon be their prize,
But Lina’s deceit
Fills the public with lies.
The curtain reveals
The truth she conceals,
And Kathy
And Don’s romance appeals.
_______________
 

The period between the 1930s and 1950s was full of musicals, most of which are wholly forgettable (save for perhaps one song) or else simply not my cup of tea. Yet the culmination of these assembly-line studio productions is still acclaimed to this day, namely Gene Kelly’s Singin’ in the Rain, the finest film about Hollywood’s favorite subject, itself.

Many of the songs in Singin’ in the Rain, including the title one, had been written for prior films, with the common bond for most being lyricist and producer Arthur Freed. They’re catchy little ditties typical of the era, yet certain scenes are so utterly classic that the songs themselves were propelled to much greater fame than any previous film’s usage. Coupled with Gene Kelly’s incomparably energetic choreography, tunes like “Fit as a Fiddle,” “Moses Supposes,” and “Good Morning” are just plain fun to watch, while “Singin’ in the Rain” attains a time-honored status few sequences can match. The film also succeeds as a comedy, and Donald O’Connor’s “Make ‘Em Laugh” is hilarious, incredible, and exhausting to watch. The “Broadway Melody” dream sequence is classic too, with Kelly’s cavorting with Cyd Charisse and her skillfully blown scarf, though I personally think it’s overly long and disconnected from the supposed French Revolution film into which it is meant to fit.

Easily Kelly’s best film, Singin’ in the Rain gave Debbie Reynolds her first major role and immortalized Freed’s greatest songs. The lip-syncing conspiracy at the film’s climax is still imitated nowadays, and the film’s most memorable moments have been parodied to no end. Even award-winning films like The Artist have drawn inspiration from this original talkie-conversion romance. Comedy musicals don’t get much better than Singin’ in the Rain.

Best line: (Don Lockwood, as he is being hounded by fans) “Cosmo, call me a cab.”  (Cosmo, smiling) “OK, you’re a cab.”

 
Rank: 57 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

256 Followers and Counting

#63: The Phantom of the Opera (2004)

21 Friday Nov 2014

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(Best sung to the title song)
 
Within the opera’s walls,
He lurks unseen.
The Phantom softly calls
To dear Christine.
She sings, impressing all with splendid voice;
The Phantom of the Opera won’t leave
Her any choice.
 
She’s drawn to his allure,
This charming ghoul,
But soon is made unsure
By suave Raoul.
Between her singing coach and childhood friend,
Christine does not know whom she ought to love,
Till threats portend.
 
The opera owners won’t
Obey the ghost
And soon see, when they don’t,
He’s felt the most.
Christine believed she heard an angel sing,
But now she sees the Phantom’s just as mad
As ravishing.
 
The Phantom’s latest play
Is brought to stage;
His mask is torn away
To fear and rage.
He grasps the upper hand for passion’s sake,
But even he must recognize love’s truth,
Despite heartache.
_______________
 

Andrew Lloyd Webber is a master. His musicals have an immersive quality that has garnered multitudes of fans and myriads of awards. It’s one thing for a musical to have a few catchy songs spaced at opportune points throughout a play or film; it’s another to weave a soundtrack in which the songs flow together with such pervasive melody that listeners disregard where one ends and the next begins. Webber has pulled off such a feat several times over, and no film captures that lavish musicality like The Phantom of the Opera.

Joel Schumacher’s films are a mixed bag, and though Batman and Robin still lives in infamy, The Phantom of the Opera redeemed his skills as a director, at least to my mind. From the elaborate exploration of the labyrinthine opera house to the stark winter backdrops, the film has all the spectacle one would expect from a Broadway adaptation. Attention to colors is evident in the frequent combination of black, white, and red, similar to (though not quite as striking as) the red flourishes of The Sixth Sense, with red again representing the presence of the ghost. Though dancing takes a back seat to the glorious music itself, the pantomime choreography in certain scenes is outstanding, particularly during the pomp of “Masquerade.”

None of the acting is quite Oscar-worthy, but again it’s less important than the music. Emmy Rossum is lovely as Christine, though a few notes elude her efforts, such as the final scream of “The Phantom of the Opera.” She’s a talented singer, just not as trained as that of Sarah Brightman, the original Christine and Lloyd Webber’s former wife. Patrick Wilson as Raoul is a bland but handsome lover for her, and Minnie Driver is appropriately dreadful as arrogant diva Carlotta, but the best role is, of course, the Phantom, played with surprising power by Gerard Butler. Though he had no prior singing experience, Butler performs like a pro, with his voice alternating from soft and seductive to severe and monstrous. His is the emotional heart of the film, and though his actions are reprehensible, an Elephant Man-style flashback gives the audience clear reason to pity him and his desire for love, though Butler’s underwhelming make-up doesn’t seem to warrant all the cruelty endured by his character or being described as “hardly a face.” (On a side note for Pirates of the Caribbean fans, I was surprised to see that the Phantom’s onstage victim was played by a barely recognizable Kevin McNally, aka Mr. Gibbs, Jack Sparrow’s first mate.)

The haunting music possesses the rare ability to induce frequent goosebumps, particularly during the Phantom’s sensuous crooning of “The Music of the Night,” by which my VC was especially affected. Lloyd Webber’s venerable arias hold significance for me as well, for I learned to play several during my inconsequential stab at piano lessons, mainly “The Phantom of the Opera,” “All I Ask of You,” “The Music of the Night,” and “Masquerade” (my favorite to play with its staccato strokes). Even when the story itself drags at times, the music is so unforgettably dynamic and the production values so sumptuous that every scene has something to please the eye or ear.

Though the casting is only satisfactory, the human story also carries the film, whether in the colorful world of the opera house of years past to the faded, tragic present. The end brought me to tears the first time, though not for any other character’s loss but for a character’s death itself. My sense of sorrow was simpler back then. All in all, the romance, tragedy, and beauty of The Phantom of the Opera come extremely close to living up to its glorious music.

Best line: (Christine, to the Phantom) “This haunted face holds no horror for me now. It’s in your soul that the true distortion lies.”

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

252 Followers and Counting

#65: Fantasia (1940)

19 Wednesday Nov 2014

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The power of classical music is known,
And here now Walt Disney has made it his own
With images striking in color and tone.
 
The instruments hum to Bach’s ominous beat,
And fishes and flowers and fairies petite
All dance to Tchaikovsky’s own Nutcracker Suite.
 
Poor Mickey, apprentice to wizard Yen Sid,
Enlivens a broom that he cannot forbid,
And only his mage can undo what he did.
 
Stravinsky is next, as the earth is beginning,
And life conceives dinosaurs, fighting and grinning,
But even T. Rexes do not end up winning.
 
Then Beethoven yields us a pastoral spy
At amorous centaurs and cute pegasi
And thunderous parties that never run dry.
 
The animals prance through a fanciful day
Of hippos and elephants, who soon fall prey
To covetous gators, who love their buffet.
 
At last, evil Chernabog reigns o’er the night
And every last hellion, phantom, and fright,
Until they are banished by heavenly light.
__________________
 

If any animated film deserves a 10 for artistry, it’s Walt Disney’s masterpiece Fantasia. Possibly the most well-known experimental film of all time, Disney’s efforts to immortalize classical treasures in an animated framework were not particularly successful with audiences in 1940, but the intervening decades have proven its unique combination of potent music and images.

I’ll be honest: it’s an excellent film to fall asleep to, but also equally excellent to scrutinize. Touching on a wide range of subjects, it presents a compendious view of mythology, popular “science,” and the struggle of good versus evil. Even at its cutest and most child-centered, Fantasia oozes imaginative virtuosity, such as the giddy symbolism of Ponchielli’s Dance of the Hours.

On the one hand, most of the vignettes tell a core story that sticks in one’s mind, particularly those who viewed it as a child: the romance and storm of The Pastoral Symphony, the traumatic dinosaur fight of The Rite of Spring, and especially Mickey’s most memorable escapade in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. On the other hand, some more than others indulge in dancing colors and beautiful shenanigans that don’t really follow a linear narrative. (The occasionally psychedelic images led to the film’s newfound popularity in the drugged-up ‘60s.) I’m not always fond of “art for art’s sake,” but the ways in which Disney complemented the music with his fluid and captivating animation are nothing short of genius.

Though some early music critics objected to Disney’s additions to their favorite opuses, most of the pieces of music used owe much of their iconic status to the images Disney so expertly provided. Disney had wanted to continue Fantasia in subsequent years with further sequences set to various other works, and it’s a shame that the film’s initial unprofitability left that plan unfeasible (though several reissues over the years have propelled it to both considerable fame and revenue). I would have liked to have seen his take on Sibelius’s Finlandia, Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons, Holst’s The Planets, or Strauss’s Also sprach Zarathustra (before Stanley Kubrick got his hands on it for 2001: A Space Odyssey).

There are a few images some parents might balk at, such as the Stegosaurus death, the centaur women’s nudity, and the frighteningly demonic Night on Bald Mountain, but nothing detracts from the overall majesty of Disney’s work. The final piece is probably the most effective, particularly the contrast between Bald Mountain and Ave Maria and the quiet but implacable dominance of the latter over the former. It may not be his most entertaining, but Fantasia is Disney at his most poetic.

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

251 Followers and Counting

#66: Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971)

18 Tuesday Nov 2014

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(Best sung to “I’ve Got a Golden Ticket”)
 
Charlie has little reason to
Hope for a bit of luck anew,
But then golden tickets, just a few,
Make their abrupt debut.
 
He dreams of a golden ticket,
Even as four other dreams come true.
 
Suddenly golden hopes arise;
Charlie receives a chance to see
Old Willy Wonka’s big surprise,
His chocolate factory.
 
Along with four other winners,
Charlie is shown wonders one can chew.
 
As they are led from room to room,
Four rotten brats near meet their doom,
And Charlie is the last one.
Even though Wonka tries him still,
Charlie’s sweet heart imparts goodwill,
And suddenly, the testing is done.
He finds that he’s won!
 
Though all the other children fell,
Charlie has proven he is right
For Wonka’s secrets him to tell,
To everyone’s delight.
 
Because of that golden ticket,
Charlie is fulfilled and flying high,
And Willy Wonka’s found the apple of his eye.
_____________
 

My earlier review of Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory essentially stated that Burton gets nearly everything right, except Willy Wonka; the original Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory gets nearly everything right, including Willy Wonka. The classic children’s musical doesn’t have the visuals or the polished look of Burton’s remake, but it has the same wonky, daftly absurd combination of humor and heart that made Roald Dahl’s book such a success.

Though I actually prefer now Freddie Highmore’s Charlie, Peter Ostrum is still admirable as the lone good apple of the bunch, and his relationship with Jack Albertson’s Grandpa Joe is more familial and evident than in the remake, possibly due to the absence of Mr. Bucket. All of the children are appropriately detestable in different ways, with Julie Dawn Cole as Veruca Salt being the most insufferable, and their comeuppances are all the more satisfying for their impudence. Of course, the star of the picture (aside from Charlie) is Willy Wonka himself, and Gene Wilder is perfect as the titular candy maker, even though Dahl had preferred Spike Milligan for the role. Whereas Johnny Depp’s Wonka displayed peculiarities more disturbing than endearing, Wilder spouts classical quotations and jumps between languages effortlessly, playing the candy man as eccentric and only occasionally trending toward insane. Granted, that boat ride is downright creepy (a chicken’s head being cut off? really?), but the rest of Wonka’s antics have a fun weirdness which, as Charlie says, is not necessarily bad. Wilder captures that ideal gray area between sanity and insanity that a character like Willy Wonka requires (and that Johnny Depp couldn’t quite attain), though I would have liked some indication that the bratty kids were indeed all right, as the book and remake did.

Roald Dahl himself despised the film’s changes to his book, and though I agree that the “fizzy lifting drinks” part was unnecessary and detracted from Charlie’s natural goodness, I think that Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory still does his work justice (of course, purely from a reader’s standpoint). Various annoying habits are properly skewered, such as gum-chewing, gluttony, and television addictions, while Charlie’s decency is allowed to shine and be rewarded. The sheer imagination of Dahl’s book is brought to colorful life in the chocolate room sequence; who wouldn’t want to cavort through those edible fields? Though Dahl’s own songs from the book are omitted (and later utilized in Burton’s remake), Willy Wonka’s Oscar-nominated soundtrack is full of memorable ditties that live on from childhood, reaching high points with “I’ve Got a Golden Ticket” and “I Want It Now.”

Other films may have appealed to Dahl’s odd sensibilities more, such as Matilda, James and the Giant Peach, The Fantastic Mr. Fox, or Burton’s take on the Chocolate Factory, but none are quite as delectably appealing as this first Dahl film adaptation. Willy Wonka has only grown in popularity over the years, becoming somewhat of a cult film, and continues to be a scrumdiddlyumptious delight for young and old.

Best line: (Mr. Salt, boarding the Wonkatania) “Ladies first, and that means Veruca.”   (Grandpa Joe, to Charlie) “If she’s a lady, I’m a Vermicious Knid.”

 
Rank: 56 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

249 Followers and Counting

#69: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)

15 Saturday Nov 2014

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(Can be sung to “Topsy Turvy”)
 
Here it is—a classic turned to cartoon gem!
Gypsies are the group Parisians most condemn;
Frollo has ambitions to extinguish them,
But one night he finds a baby boy.
Guilted into caring for this malformed thing,
Frollo calls him Quasimodo, who must ring
Notre Dame’s colossal bells, diminishing his joy.
 
Quasimodo dreams of being free to leave
Out among the people on a feast day’s eve.
Though he knows such impudence would surely grieve
Frollo, he still dares to go outside.
Esmeralda, quite the beauty, leaves all wowed
Until Quasimodo is with fame endowed.
Jubilation turns to torture as the crowds deride.
 
Esmeralda’s act of grace makes Frollo rage.
Notre Dame becomes her grand, imposing cage,
Until Quasimodo helps her disengage,
Much to Frollo’s fatuous chagrin.
As his own obsession sees all Paris burn,
Frollo writes off Captain Phoebus’ clear concern.
Quasi warns the Gypsies but lets Frollo learn and win.
 
Frollo passes doom upon the girl with lust,
But the hunchback rescues her ere she combusts.
He announces sanctuary, as he must,
And defends the church from those outside.
Frollo gets his just desserts when he strikes first;
Quasimodo, even though his face is cursed,
Finds acceptance as the insults are reversed with pride.
_______________
 

Sometimes cited as a sign of the waning of the Disney Renaissance, The Hunchback of Notre Dame was actually an astounding reminder of the skill and power of Disney animation. Considering how different the source material was from Disney’s usual fare, it’s a wonder that Hunchback even got off the ground, and its uncharacteristically dark themes set it apart from most of their canon. Though some detractors accused the film of watering down Victor Hugo’s original novel, Disney’s Hunchback succeeds in capturing the power of his immortal story in a compelling package that both kids and adults can enjoy on different levels.

I’ve always loved animation that can entertain a mature audience without dwelling on mature content. Hunchback’s themes include prejudice, compassion, genocide, obsession, damnation, eternal damnation, and unrequited love, and as a kid, hardly any of that registered in my mind. I could recognize the presence of more sophisticated topics and emotions, but I simply enjoyed the music, the humor, and the more facile lessons. More recent viewings have revealed layers I never noticed before. For instance, Disney has a long history of comic relief sidekicks, yet here they feature the humorous gargoyles as Quasimodo’s straightforward allies, as well as imaginary friends that reflect his long solitude and inner psyche. Thus, though they are the most kid-focused aspect of the film, they serve a purpose that is not entirely out of step with the serious narrative.

The film’s most outstanding aspect is Alan Menken’s music, possibly his greatest Disney score ever. While other films’ songs may be catchier or more charming, Menken has crafted an illustrious, flowing score that can join those few other musicals that deserve to be christened “glorious.” The singers are also well-cast, particularly Paul Kandel as narrator Clopin, whose high note on “The Bells of Notre Dame” instantly provokes goosebumps. Tom Hulce’s soft voice lends sincerity to Quasimodo’s “Out There” and “Heaven’s Light,” while Tony Jay’s inimitably low tones endow Frollo with austerity and menace such that I’m surprised I haven’t recognized his baritone more often. Frollo is arguably the most villainous of Disney baddies; rather than fratricide or megalomania, he is willing to damn an entire city and his immortal soul for his own lustful pursuits, hauntingly presented in the song “Hellfire.” The non-singing roles are also memorable, including Demi Moore as Esmeralda (different singing voice) and Kevin Kline as the instantly likable Phoebus (yet another positive change from the novel).

In addition to the music, the hand-drawn animation is stunning, with a crispness absent from most other Disney features. The attention to shadows contributes to the animation’s realism, and the crowd scenes are remarkably detailed and impressive, especially Quasimodo’s rescue of Esmeralda.

The film also doesn’t completely sugarcoat its subject matter; an entirely crowd-pleasing ending would have paired Quasimodo with Esmeralda, but though she doesn’t die as in the book, the filmmakers leave the film serious enough to not allow Quasi’s every dream to come true. It’s a surprising move for a company that rarely leaves its leads without companionship, though they left the unrealistic romance to a lesser sequel. The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a singular achievement in book-to-musical adaptation, and I’d like to see if such a feat could be pulled off with some other grim classic. Since The Phantom of the Opera, Oliver Twist, and Les Miserables have already been taken, perhaps The Count of Monte Cristo or A Tale of Two Cities? You never know.

Best line: (Laverne, the gargoyle) “Quasi, take it from an old spectator. Life’s not a spectator sport. If watchin’ is all you’re gonna do, then you’re gonna watch your life go by without ya.”

 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

245 Followers and Counting

#77: 1776 (1972)

07 Friday Nov 2014

Posted by in Movies, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

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(Can be sung to “But, Mr. Adams,” minus the repetition)
 
In the summer of a year remembered,
As a turning point of history and rights,
Mr. Adams is imploring,
With controversies boring,
All the Congressmen to listen as he fights.
 
Independence, their independence,
Is a subject few are willing to discuss aloud,
Till Virginia’s Lee declares a resolution proud,
Which brings out the strong opinions of the noble crowd.
 
Since the foes to independence are mounting
And unanimous the final vote must be,
Mr. Adams stalls frustration:
They need a declaration
To announce the reasons why they must be free.
 
Mr. Adams tells Mr. Jefferson
That he must write the declaration they’re requiring.
Adams brings in Tom’s young wife to start inspiring,
And soon his aptitude for eloquence is firing.
 
Though the written declaration seems perfect,
Everybody finds a quibble or a flaw.
Words are altered or ejected;
Since slaves were interjected,
All the Southern states take issue and withdraw.
 
Mr. Adams, moved by Mrs. Adams,
Will not let his dream of independence meet an end.
He bites the needed bullets to convert each friend,
And the U.S.A. is born when signatures are penned.
_________________
 

Some of my favorite musicals are related to history, and, though the Second Continental Congress may not have been an obvious choice, 1776 brought this important time in history to life with the entertaining power of show tunes. I’m a big fan of putting the spotlight on minor players in history, people whose names are glossed over in history books. Giving them a name and voice and image only seems right, since unknowns can shape history just as much as presidents and kings. Though this film leaves out several members of the Congress in order to achieve a more manageable cast, it characterizes an amazing number of signers, including John Dickinson (Pennsylvania’s opponent to independence), James Wilson (a weak judge given a final choice), Samuel Chase (a rotund Marylander), Lewis Morris (an ever-abstaining New Yorker) Stephen Hopkins (a Rhode Island drunk), Richard Henry Lee (the Virginian resolution maker and relative of Robert E. Lee), Caesar Rodney (a Delaware patriot stricken by cancer), Dr. Lyman Hall (a Georgian physician), Colonel Thomas McKean (a Delaware Scotsman), and John Hancock (President of the Congress and first signer).

Of course, there are also the more obvious players as well. Though “obnoxious and disliked,” William Daniels as John Adams finds the same balance of likable and insufferable that he delivered as Dr. Mark Craig on St. Elsewhere. Howard da Silva is the spitting image of Benjamin Franklin and obviously enjoys spouting the wit for which Franklin was famous. Likewise, Ken Howard and Blythe Danner (aka Gwyneth Paltrow’s mother) are ideal as Thomas and Martha Jefferson, the former of whom struggles between patriotism and romance and chooses both, of course.

The film takes considerable liberties with its historical basis, including motivations (Dickinson himself posed some of the grievances put forward by Adams; his insulting Adams as a “lawyer” is ironic considering Dickinson was really a lawyer too) and dramatic details (Martha Jefferson never came to visit her husband in Philadelphia and had actually suffered a miscarriage around the time of the signing). While these aberrations can irritate history buffs, none are so glaring as to undermine the film as a whole. Indeed, 1776 depicts the tensions of the period with insight and humor. Small details, such as Franklin’s strained relationship with his son, are included as fascinating bits of trivia, while debates with the South foreshadow the objections that led to the Civil War. The dialogue, much of it derived from letters of the real people involved, carries a unique wit and intelligence of conversation that has been lost over time.

The film is also full of underrated musical gems, usually humorous, such as the opening “Sit Down, John,” the lighthearted “The Lees of Old Virginia,” and my personal favorite, the pen-passing “But, Mr. Adams.” The one song sung by defender of slavery Edward Rutledge, “Molasses to Rum,” goes a bit too far with its portrait of the slave trade, but most of the tunes are buoyant numbers, like Mrs. Jefferson’s “He Plays the Violin.” One brief scene also taps into contemporary Vietnam War sentiments about Congress blithely sending young men to war, ending with the poignant elegy “Mama, Look Sharp.”

1776 does occasionally drag with long stretches of dialogue that could bore those not actively interested in the debate, yet its music and recreation of history have always appealed to me. Though historians believe that the Declaration itself was not signed on July 4, 1776, the final scene that depicts this becomes more and more powerful as it continues, as if a window in time were opened allowing us to witness one of history’s pivotal moments.

Best line: (Congressional secretary Charles Thomson, calling for a vote) “Where’s Rhode Island?”
(McNair, the custodian) “Rhode Island’s out visiting the necessary.”
(Hancock) “Well, after what Rhode Island has consumed, I can’t say I’m surprised. We’ll come back to him, Mr. Thomson.”
(Thomson) “Rhode Island passes.” [everyone laughs]

 

Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

243 Followers and Counting

 

#79: High School Musical Trilogy (2006, 2007, 2008)

05 Wednesday Nov 2014

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(Best sung to “We’re All in This Together”)
 
On New Year’s Eve, a game of karaoke
Begins a chance romance,
Yet Troy just wants to keep his singing low-key
Lest his friends look askance.
 
Gabriella is new to Bolton’s high school
And all its separate cliques.
A musical, despised as being not cool,
Throws off the stable mix.
 
When Troy and Gabriella
Both try out
For lead roles,
All their goals
Are put in doubt.
Their friends just want them focused;
Don’t rebel
From the sports
On the courts
In which they excel.
 
One Sharpay, the bad girl of the big stage,
Can’t stand her challengers.
As Troy’s friends try forcing him to disengage,
More sabotage occurs.
The lovebirds and school get past their own rage
And give their full support.
 
So Troy and Gabriella,
With the aid
Of their friends,
Changing trends,
Sing unafraid.
They win the big audition
With each friend
And proceed
To succeed
With a happy end.
__________________
 
(Best sung to “Work This Out”)
 
Summer arrives for the passionate class
That breakdances through East High.
Sharpay, with neverending sass,
Is eager for goodbye.
She heads out to her country club,
Where servants must comply.
 
But all the Wildcats are hired
And worked until they’re tired,
And only Troy’s desired.
 
As everyone tries to do their best,
It’s clear that Troy is favored here.
He gets used to the way he’s blessed
And estranges his best friends, who are second tier.
 
A talent show is beckoning
The brightest and the best,
And Sharpay’s bullying
Her brother is progressed.
He helps the Wildcats
Prepare for talent night,
Even as divided Troy
Deliberates his plight.
 
Gabriella departs,
A breaking of hearts,
And at last Troy decides the right thing.
He sings with his friends,
And Sharpay’s control ends.
Friends and family unite
For a future that’s bright.
 
Sharpay is shown up but not put down
And sings with them all in a common song.
Her brother Ryan wins the trophy’s crown,
And they all sing together as they get along.
__________________
 
(Best sung to “Scream”)
 
It’s time for senior year.
As all spectators cheer,
The Wildcats persevere
To one more win.
The musical this spring
Will cover everything,
And Troy and friends will sing
Through thick and thin.
 
With college closing fast,
Troy’s feeling harassed
By all the questions asked
Of choosing, weighing the future.
Both sports and theater
Just leave him unsure.
He wants to be closer
To Gabriella’s future.
 
There’s tension still
With Sharpay’s bluster,
And Ryan is persuaded to trust her.
 
Practice, prom,
Staying calm,
Troy is told that
He only holds back
His girlfriend’s bright track.
To abstain
From the pain,
Gabriella
Decides she must leave,
Which just makes Troy grieve.
 
He thinks about it more
And chooses her door.
Love he must restore
With singing, dancing, and choosing.
At last, he makes his choice,
Picks sports and his voice,
And they both rejoice.
It’s showtime; start the music!
 
Sharpay and Ryan
Each find their courses,
One which Juilliard endorses.
 
One last time,
In their prime,
They earn applause,
Announcing from stage
Their story’s next page.
Soon they all,
Standing tall,
Graduate and
Know, as their lives dawn,
That high school lives on.
_________________
  

Since its heyday, High School Musical has nearly gained the infamy of the Star Wars prequels for supposedly being such awful, overrated fluff. Yet I love it. Disney Channel original movies are hardly masterpieces and, except for The Color of Friendship and The Thirteenth Year, are not usually worth re-watching. However, High School Musical indeed became a phenomenon, one that I followed intently. I was surprised by the first film in 2006, convinced my parents and VC to view it as well (they love it too), watched the sequel’s even more successful debut the next year, and then paid to see High School Musical 3: Senior Year at the theater. One could call them guilty pleasures, but I’m not ashamed in the least. I grew up with these characters and, regardless of flaws, enjoy the films to this day.

The first High School Musical has the worst reputation, with karaoke, high school clichés (distinct cliques, evil blond diva, etc.), and other rather cheesy elements onto which haters latch. (On thetoptens.com, a website of public-voted top ten lists, it ranks as the #2 worst film, behind Justin Bieber: Never Say Never.) Yet I never watched High School Musical expecting Oscar-worthy performances or a deep, original plot; I love it for the music. It’s hip, catchy, progresses the story (usually), and made drama and musicals cool for a new generation.

High School Musical 2 is my favorite of the three, possessing some of the most memorable songs and the funniest script. With the return of the same young actors, it also succeeded in establishing them all as lovable characters of my childhood. Perhaps it was simply from seeing them repeatedly, but I came to care for Troy and Gabriella (Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens), Chad and Taylor (Corbin Bleu and Monique Coleman), Ryan and Kelsi (Lucas Grabeel and Olesya Rulin), and even sneaky Sharpay (Phineas and Ferb’s Ashley Tisdale). By the time the third film came out, I was nearing the same fears of the future they were and could actively sympathize with Troy’s uncertainty. Senior Year added some needed depth, even to minor characters, and ended with long shots of the six main characters simply smiling at the camera. I thought this unnecessary at the time, but as they’ve all moved on and “grown up” in different ways, I see now that those scenes (and the entire movies) act as snapshots of these actors at this early time in their lives, like a graduation photo, if you will. The bittersweet end has touched my inner teenager on subsequent viewings.

As for the music, all three films have some commonalities in their songs. Each has at least one romantic duet with Troy and Gabriella:

-the first film’s “Start of Something New,”
-the second film’s “You Are the Music in Me” (the best), and
-the third film’s “Right Here, Right Now” and “Can I Have This Dance;”
 

a well-choreographed, rap-inflected number:

-the first film’s “Get’cha Head in the Game” (the best),
-the second’s “I Don’t Dance,” and
-the third’s “The Boys Are Back;”
 

a slow, emotional solo for Vanessa Hudgens:

-the first film’s “When There Was Me and You,”
-the second’s “Gotta Go My Own Way” (tie), and
-the third’s “Walk Away” (tie);
 

a show-stopping hit midway through:

-the first film’s “Stick to the Status Quo” (tie),
-the second’s “Work This Out” (tie), and
-the third’s “A Night to Remember;”
 

a catchy, over-the-top number for Sharpay, which I actually enjoy more than Troy and Gabriella’s:

-the first film’s “Bop to the Top,”
-the second’s “Fabulous,” and
-the third’s “I Want It All” (the best);
 

and a rousing finale that wraps everything up with a smile-worthy bow:

-the first film’s “We’re All in This Together” (three-way tie; all too good to choose),
-the second’s “All for One” (bursting with summer’s joie de vivre and my VC’s favorite), and
-the third’s “High School Musical” (three-way tie).
 

Critics can decry the unsophisticated dialogue and hackneyed plot elements, but High School Musical is something that everyone involved can be proud of. Director and choreographer Kenny Ortega did an outstanding job across the board. The choreography is excellent throughout (with the laughable exception of the second film’s “Bet On It”), and it’s obvious that much work and practice went into creating the elaborate dance scenes. Unfortunately, Disney Channel has yet to reclaim the spirit of these musicals, though they’ve tried with the unmemorable Camp Rock and Teen Beach Movie.

Another reason I love these films is for their ingenuous purity. Though I like some of the music in it, Grease did not make my list; High School Musical may borrow elements from that film, but it exceeds it in good, clean entertainment value. The world of East High is indeed squeaky clean and idealized, but that’s simply the kind of world I prefer, a world in which a boy can sneak up to his girlfriend’s bedroom without a hint of impropriety, in contrast to the “realistic” world of sex and drugs that other high school films depict. It’s always easier to criticize than to create, and for all its imperfections, I will continue to assert that the High School Musical films are a credit to their genre.

Best lines: Refer to best songs above

 
Rank: 55 out of 60
 

© 2014 S. G. Liput

240 Followers and Counting