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Dreamgirls
Directed by: Bill Condon
Written By: Bill Condon, book by Tom Eyen, lyrics by Tom Eyen,
Henry Krieger
Cast: Beyonce Knowles, Jamie Foxx, Eddie Murphy, Danny
Glover, Jennifer Hudson
After decades of being labelled box-office poison, the movie musical has come back to life. Baz Luhrmann engineered its rebirth
with Moulin Rouge and the writer-director Bill Condon hastened it to maturity with the bracing cynicism of Chicago. Now he's
back with Dreamgirls, a musical inspired by the Motown adventures of Diana Ross and the Supremes.
The original Dreamgirls was designed 25 years ago for Broadway, where it won a cluster of Tony Awards and ran for almost
four years. Any prospect of a film, however, was vetoed by Dreamworks' Dave Geffen, who controlled the rights to the show
and doubted that the screen could do it justice - until Condon changed Geffen's mind. Now the film has Oscar status and even
Diana Ross, who loathed the stage production, is said to look on it kindly - as does her former fellow Supreme, Mary Wilson.
Sadly, we'll never know how it would have struck Florence Ballard, the third member of the group. She died of a heart
attack in 1976 at the age of 32. But we can take a safe guess, for it restores her to her original place at the centre of
the picture. The glamour may belong to Beyonce Knowles as Ross's alter ego, Deena Jones, but Jennifer Hudson, a graduate of
US TV's American Idol, has scored the star-making role as Ballard's screen counterpart, Effie White. Deena glides through
life, Effie struggles, and in the world of the backstage musical, stardom without struggle just isn't stardom at all.
The cause of many of Effie's troubles is the group's svengali, Curtis Taylor Jnr. (Jamie Foxx) - a character based on
Motown's Berry Gordy Jnr. Curtis is a Cadillac salesman with showbiz ambitions when he discovers the girls singing in a talent
quest in Detroit. He talks them into adopting him as their manager, gives them a new name - the Dreams - and sets about finding
them an audience beyond the rhythm 'n' blues stages.
The civil rights movement is about to open a door long closed to black performers and he wants to be there when the moment
comes. But first he has a few adjustments to make, so Effie, the girl with the big voice and the figure to match, is shoved
sideways and her spot as lead singer is given to svelte, swan-necked Deena, whose rapport with the spotlight might just take
them all the way to Las Vegas.
Condon's script folds these tensions and compromises into a swiftly flowing melange of song, dance and histrionics, free
of the bumpy stretches of exposition that roughen so many biopics.
Hudson's Effie is a fine balance of sensitivity and over-confidence. She blusters her way through one scene, falls apart
in the next and somehow shapes the whole performance into a character you can care for. And Knowles makes surprisingly convincing
work of Deena, whose niceness is permitted to upstage her acute case of rampant ambition.
Deena's is an effortless trip to the top, thrown into sharp relief by the fate of another circuit star - James "Thunder"
Early, fantastically well-played by Eddie Murphy, with borrowings from James Brown and Jackie Wilson, augmented by a level
of hyperactivity that is all his own. Early is a tangle of ungovernable instincts who finds it impossible to tone down his
act to suit the sedate standards of a Las Vegas lounge audience. In other words, he's the quintessential rock star. His only
problem is that he's decades ahead of his time.
He and Curtis make an absorbing study in contrasts, representing identity and ego in constant conflict with one another.
Foxx's performance skilfully blends easy charm with an eagle eye for the main chance. In the beginning, charm rules, but as
Curtis negotiates the Proustian temptations inherent in becoming a showbiz entrepreneur, his demeanour cools to a temperature
that chills the blood.
Most of all, it's a film about hair. The girls' hairdos constitute a saga of their own, starting with the opening talent
contest when Deena, ever the stylist, suggests they wear their wigs backwards to give them a touch of originality. But the
men aren't exactly indifferent to the impression they're making. Early's d.a. style is like a weather vane denoting the state
of his career. As his prospects diminish, so does his quiff. Curtis's hair, on the other hand, is a political indicator. In
the pre-civil rights era, he wears it oiled and plastered across his scalp in corrugated waves. But once black has been declared
beautiful, he decides it's safe to adopt a modified afro.
As for the music, it probably won't please Supremes fans eager to hear the old hits again. Except for four songs written
expressly for the film, the music comes from the show, and is described by its composer, Henry Krieger, as a collection of
show tunes meant to evoke, rather than replicate, the Motown style. There's a lot of Broadway in it, and for all its artistry
Condon's direction can't quite eliminate the stageiness from some of the trickier segues from dialogue to song.
But he is one of those rare directors who can make theatricality work on film. Rather than stifling it, he embraces it,
and the result is sheer exhilaration.
Rocky Balboa
Cast: Sylvester Stallone, Burt Young, Antonio Tarver, Geraldine Hughes, Milo Ventimiglia
Director: Sylvester Stallone
Screenplay: Sylvester Stallone
Cinematography: J. Clark Mathis
Music: Bill Conti
Running Time: 1hour 42mins
It's possible to mirror Sylvester Stallone's life pretty accurately through the 'Rocky' movies. Stallone and Rocky Balboa,
the punchy but good-hearted boxer who put Stallone on the map - they both started out as bums and became kings.
Then in the 1980s, the kings became bums - Rocky III and IV were crass endeavours - both exploiting racism and xenophobia
and the bubble burst as the films began to reflect Stallone's out-of-touch decadence. Rocky V was an attempt to return to
roots, but nobody took it seriously. With Rocky Balboa, though, the bums become kings again. Easily the equal of its forefather
thirty years ago, the movie is more stirring and even more thought-provoking than Clint Eastwood's successful Million Dollar
Baby.
Those who grew up with Rocky, as I did, will find themselves totally susceptible to Rocky Balboa's charms. It's primitive,
manipulative, simplistic, all the things the original Rocky was. I also have to admit that when the creaky old Rocky ran up
the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art with his newly adopted dog Punchy, reached the top, and punched the air in triumph,
I wiped away a tear or two. Because those are not just steps. And Rocky Balboa isn't just another Rocky sequel - it's the
last, coming from an actor/writer/director who, like his character, just wants to go the distance one more time.
Rocky is a widower now - he lost Adrian to "the woman cancer" four years ago. He owns a restaurant (named after
Adrian) and hangs out there somewhat haplessly, regaling the diners with his old boxing stories. His brother-in-law Paulie
(Burt Young) is as irascible as ever, painting abstract act during his breaks at the meat factory and incapable of facing
the past, which Rocky seems stuck in. His son Rocky Jr., now known as Robert (Milo Ventimiglia), slaves away as just another
corporate number and feels negated by his father's shadow. It's a pretty bleak picture until an opportunity arises: the current
heavyweight champ Mason "The Line" Dixon (Antonio Tarver), who has run out of worthy opponents, is talked into an
exhibition match with Rocky after a computer-simulated match between the two puts Rocky on top.
Gone, thankfully, is the empty excess of the previous Stallone-directed Rocky films. Rocky Balboa is a classical piece
of filmmaking, with stately fade-outs and an attentive eye for dialogue nuances. Rocky chats up a bartender (Geraldine Hughes)
who turns out to be Marie, the punky girl he advised to steer clear of the wrong crowd in the first Rocky. Marie is grown
up now, with a teenage son who calls himself Steps. Hughes brings some of Talia Shire's reticence and toughness to the almost-romance
that develops between Marie and Rocky. Stallone shoots on the grey, damp streets of Philadelphia, in its bars and restaurants,
harking back to a time when locations in films had real character in the 1970s. Rocky Balboa is comfortable with the past
(it even brings back Spider, the guy Rocky defeated pre-Apollo Creed in the first Rocky).
Then the climactic fight arrives, and after a strong start in which we genuinely fear for Rocky's sagging flesh and brittle
bones, Stallone and editor Sean Albertson go to town with well executed flash-cuts and impressionistic strobing imagery. Eventually
Stallone does snap out of it though and lets the fight choreography lead the editing.
Then again, 'Rocky Balboa' isn't really about the match, any more than 'Rocky' was (the sequels lost sight of that, at
their peril). It's about a bum turned king turned bum who finds it in himself to reclaim, however briefly, his throne. It's
Stallone's 'King Lear,' he's finally ready for it - and his film is an outstanding conclusion he should rightly be very proud
of.
The Last King Of Scotland
Director: Kevin MacDonald
Cast: Forest Whitaker, James McAvoy, Kerry Washington, Gillian Anderson, Simon McBurney
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No period of history has witnessed more bloodshed than the 20th century. The systematic destruction of humanity under the
evil influence of Hitler is the most notable. But when it comes to genocides, Hitler was only one leader among many. In
the late 20th century, the African President of Uganda, Idi Amin, became a symbol of madness, killing over 300,000 of his
tribesmen before fleeing to Saudi Arabia where he died in 2003.
In The Last King of Scotland, a young doctor, Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy) travels by chance to Uganda from his home
in Scotland just prior to a military takeover of the government. Within days of his arrival, army General Idi Amin (Forrest
Whitaker) seizes the Presidency and the army takes control of the country. Nicholas has come to Uganda with the idealistic
dream of helping the poor by volunteering at a medical mission. In a moment of circumstance that will change his life, Nicholas
is compelled to help the new President who has been in an car accident when travelling near the mission.
Amin is impressed with the brashness with which the young doctor takes charge at the scene of the accident. To his surprise,
Nicholas is pressed into service to become the personal physician of the President and, ultimately, to become one of his closest
advisors and this choice is fuelled to some extent by Idi Amin's fascination with all things Scottish. Incidentallly, despite
the story of Nicholas being fiction, the real Idi Amin at times had his Army march in Scottish garb.
What follows is semi-fictional story of the disintegration of an idealistic President into one of the most evil dictators
in recent history. President Amin in real life began as a social and political reformer but over time devolved into a paranoid
demigod. His fears led to irrational purges of his own countrymen, including the people closest to him. In the end, even
young Nicholas must face the brutality of Amin's wrath.
What transforms idealism into evil? This film suggests it is the toxic combination of power and personal ego. When pandering
for position and ego adulation become a daily diet it can be intoxicating. When someone begins to believe that government
is all about themselves personally the stage is set for a tragedy - as in Iraq and the execution of Saddam Hussein. Just as
importantly, this film also explores how those who have influence on the person in power maintain clarity and purpose. Like
young Nicholas, most of us are numb to the destructive motivations of people in power. We hope that minor course corrections
will steer the leader in the right direction. Often, the more difficult prophetic observations come with a heavy cost of
immense loss.
Creating a culture of accountability around all positions of power is critical to the health of any organisation or country.
When the external cultural, religious, or social structures of accountability are compromised or weakened, then it is only
a matter of time until the most invulnerable personal or government disintegrates like the last King of Uganda.
To the film itself - although in parts rather weak in terms of conviction - Forest Whitaker makes up for it with a regal
performance. Giving a consistently believable African accent, Whitaker portrays Amin as an enigmatic mix of paranoia, glee
and homicidal rage. It's awe-inspiring to watch Whitaker switch gears, as he does when Amin meets his future confidant Nicholas
Garrigan - a terrific performance too from the excellent James McAvoy. Rare indeed is the actor who can accomplish an instant
transformation from beast to buddy, but Whitaker makes it look easy. His ease in the role is apparent when Amin jokes about
his alleged cannibalism, telling guests at an elaborate state buffet that the meal is free of human flesh.
Much like Capote and Philip Seymour Hoffman, The Last King of Scotland is all about Whitaker. Although the male lead is
technically McAvoy, Whitaker's performance is so encompassing that it nearly blots out all else. That's not necessarily a
bad thing. The Last King of Scotland opens with promise but becomes improbable and slightly cowardly in the final half-hour.
The film is seen from Garrigan's point of view, as he is drawn into Amin's inner circle and remains oblivious to the dictator's
murderous transgressions until it's too late. Garrigan doesn't do much to help his case. He alienates the British diplomats
(Amin was installed by the British government), and by the time he needs help, Garrigan is not met with much sympathy. And
he isn't without sin. The doctor initially came to Uganda to avoid the doldrums of working with his father and to treat needy
people, but he's seduced by the comfort of Amin's surroundings. Eventually, he realises he has slipped too far into Amin's
world, but the dictator isn't about to let him go easily. Like Garrigan, the audience isn't shown the dark side of Amin's
rule until quite late. When we finally see it, the film turns into a house of horrors, as Garrigan descends into a world of
torture and murder. But there's really no other way to do it, especially if you want to be true to the subject matter.
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