The Entertournament, Week 3: Defying Gravity vs. Defying Deity
Arrival vs. Broadway’s Wicked vs. Silence vs. The Young Pope
Welcome to The Entertournament, a pop-culture bracket blog that pits the best and buzziest shows/movies/songs/plays/books/memes/apps of the week against each other, tournament style. Because why just enjoy things?
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Defying Gravity Division:
Arrival vs. Broadway’s Wicked
Yeah, things seem apocalyptic these days. But at least we don’t have gargantuan egg-shaped UFO spacecraft hovering overhead!
Arrival, based on the short “Story of Your Life” by Ted Chaing, tells the story of two academic professors who must learn to communicate with alien invaders before intergalactic conflict breaks loose. It’s is a dynamite film on all fronts. The script is a nerd’s wet dream, a callback to the kind of intelligent science fiction that hides social allegory beneath monster makeup and visual effects. But Arrival does a valiant job of hiding something deeper, while operating in plain sight — the film’s true conceit. The whole thing is plotted pretty expertly, up until a post-twist exposition dump which the studio must have enforced after test audiences went, “Huh”? Better to leave them over-aware than under-aware, I suppose, but it shaved off some of the surprise’s glint.
Director Denis Villeneuve builds on the momentum of his previous works (Prisoners, Sicario) to craft a rare blockbuster that’s both fully-baked and tightly-crammed into a swift 2-hour runtime. Cinematographer Bradford Young (Selma, the upcoming Han Solo story) delivers some iconic images and smart camerawork, most memorably when Dr. Louise Banks (Amy Adams) and Dr. Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner) first “defy gravity” inside the space pod. A computer-generated scene towards the end evokes flashes of Rogue One’s terrible CGI Tarkin, but fortunately it didn’t last too long.
The film is a celebration of connection, of knowledge, of unification, of inclusion, of compassion. It’s an important for the current political climate, where panic over unwanted refugees and those who speak and look different threatens to tear the fabric of our humanity apart. There’s much to learn from heroine Louise, from her steadfast belief in her own ability to the decisions she makes at the end of the film that should place Adams firmly in the Oscar hunt for Best Actress, an award that’s eluded her thusfar.
Continuing the Oscar conversation, I’ve seen no better Best Picture choice than Arrival because it best fits my metric of “Most Representative of its Year”. 2016 was not a year that is reflected in La La Land or Manchester By the Sea, two buzzy frontrunners, and though Moonlight is a perfect little film which I hold dear to my heart, it’s scope and ambition don’t compare to Arrival’s. That’s not to say Arrival is the best film of the lot, but it’s got a case for the Academy Award. (Yes, I’m that particular).
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That’s a battle for another week. Arrival’s competitor is Wicked, the Wizard of Oz-inspired musical that has run onstage at the Gershwin Theater for 13 years. I finally got a chance to see it Wednesday night.
I’m obsessed.
As a child I worshipped The Wizard of Oz, and carried around toys (more doll-like than action figure-y) of Dorothy and her friends, careful never to play with the Wicked Witch of the West. It wasn’t until I was seated in the Gershwin when I realized that the Wicked Witch never killed anyone, and aside from torching Scarecrow (who doesn’t seem to have nerve endings) and planting sleepy poppies, she doesn’t harm anyone. She just wants her dead sister’s shoes back. How misunderstood!
Such misunderstanding is perfect for a college environment, where everyone’s identity is still getting sorted out. The play’s cast of characters — ebullient princess Galinda; seemingly self-absorbed/shallow Fiyero; lonesome, wheelchair-bound Nessarose; and her obstinate green-skinned sister, Elphaba — attend Shiz University in the midst of a nationalist crisis not unlike we’ve seen with Brexit or #MAGA, this one with animals. There’s room for activism and lecture and gossip and catfights and oh so much singing. How has The CW not commissioned a Wicked TV show?!
The legality of the whole situation eludes me. Wicked is based on a book by Gregory Maguire, itself a take on The Wizard of Oz novel and film. Oz is mentioned, as is Glinda, though other characters — Dorothy, Scarecrow, the Lion, the Tin Man — are never named, though their presence is still made known as this prequel weaves its way through the plot of the film in ways that left me, the aforementioned fan, giddy. Either certain characters are owned by certain studios who refused to license for cheap, or the show’s creators, Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman, thought cameos would be more effective.
Regardless, both acts are full of fan-serviceable surprises and showstopping moments, most courtesy of the production’s current leads, Jennifer DiNoia (in the role of Elphaba, originated by the wickedly talented Adele Dazeem) and Kara Lindsay as G(a)linda. The whole cast was strong overall, though poor Fiyero’s portrayer, The Sound of Music Live’s Michael Campayno, couldn’t hold his own with either lead.
The production was magical, from the sets to the lighting to the costumes to the flying monkey stunts to the giant mechanical dragon overhead. Going in I was only familiar with the hits (“Popular”, “Defying Gravity”) but found great joy in “For Good”, “What Is This Feeling”, and “When I Meet the Wizard.” Many other tracks are forgettable — though may bloom upon soundtrack listens.
Both Wicked and Arrival were out-of-this-world experiences, but Wicked was an experience I’ll never forget. I’m already panning my next visit, this time with my mother. It wins by a hair.
Advances: Wicked
Defying Deity Division:
Silence vs. The Young Pope
This one wasn’t close.
Silence, directed by the great Martin Scorsese, tells the story of a pair of Jesuit padres (Andrew Garfield & Adam Driver) sent to Japan to rescue their mentor (Liam Neeson) who was persecuted for his Christian faith. A rumor persists that he apostatized and has denounced God. The padres doubt it.
Guided by a tormented Japanese Christian named Kichijiro (Yosuke Kubozuka), the padres reach Japan and seek out fellow believers until eventually they’re found out and tortured — sometimes physically, but moreso spiritually.
The torture is slow and labored and sometimes excruciating, like the film itself. Scorsese again worked with editor Thelma Schoonmaker, his filmmaking partner of forty years, to create a finished product that surely needed trimming, specifically in the first act and denouement. On the heels of The Wolf of Wall Street, Scorsese’s last film that suffered a similar slog, perhaps some fresh eyes are needed in the editing bay? That is, unless, Schoonmaker is responsible for the color correction, which turned every frame of the already-gorgeous cinematography into a breathtaking Baroque work of art.
Despite those negatives, the film succeeds. It unpacks heavy theological musings on faith, guilt, pride, self-satisfaction, self-doubt, fear, loneliness and sacrifice. There are moments that resonate for the devout and the atheist alike — the haunting deaths, sure, but especially the symbolic gesture of trampling upon the face of God, or spitting upon the likeness of the Virgin Mary. In these sequences, time stops.
None of the A-list performers find a source of transcendence. Neeson and especially Driver are underutilized, and Garfield’s work didn’t resonate as deeply as it should have. The most powerful performances were Kubozuka, whose clockwork cycle of betrayals and confessions could’ve been unbearable in a lesser actor, and Issey Ogata, who brought some levity to the film as an eccentric — though by no means likable —elderly governor. They won’t be in Oscar conversations, but they should be.
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Another project that won’t be in Oscar conversations is The Young Pope, a rare acquisition by HBO that, even prior to its stateside release, took the internet by storm based on its title alone.
The Young Pope stars Jude Law as Pope Pious XIII, the first American head of the Catholic church, who also happens to be … wait for it … young. He smokes cigarettes in the Vatican. He threatens to upend the establishment. And he might be an atheist.
This papal antihero sends shivers through the Vatican City’s establishment, who fear that this Pope may be too young and too headstrong to control. They’re right — he imports Sister Mary (Diane Keaton) and demands she ascend the ranks of power, and he bribes confession booth secrets from a malleable priest. There’s a schism a-brewin’; too bad the Pope serves for life!
It’s all so ridiculous. The series opens on not one but two Pope dream sequences (Popeception) and features dialogue that’d be too campy for a Law & Order episode. It’s surreal but it’s boring. It’s beautiful but it’s alienating.
That all sounds like church to me. Series creator Paolo Sorrentino (The Great Beauty) leans into the self-seriousness of Catholicism, while similarly trolling the faithful, like in dream sequence #2 by listing off everything the Church is against, from masturbation to gay marriage to divorce to abortion. Silence has a quote about hot springs being called “hell” by the Japanese and whether that’s a mockery, a truth, or both. In the case of The Young Pope, mockery and truth are inseparable.
It’s a frustrating vision of political machination that you either have the stomach for or you don’t, much like Netflix’s House of Cards. I’ve been told that the second episode is better, shining more light on Keaton’s character and giving James Cromwell more screen time, but that’s just not enough.
The much-memed, over-hyped Young Pope has forsaken itself. While imperfect, Scorsese’s passion project moves to the finals.
Advances: Silence
The Final Matchup: Defying Gravity vs. Defying Deity
Wicked vs. Silence
By design, Wicked is so much more accessible than Silence. The former was developed for Broadway, where a hit must run for years and years to be profitable and attract audiences of all ages. Its characters are flawed-but-lovable outcasts singin’ out their feelings. There’s a somewhat-happy ending.
Silence was not created to be loved. To be honest, I found it hard to sympathize with the plight of a religious group that currently controls and restricts so many freedoms in our country. Japan, they say in the film, is a swamp where no new ideas can take root. It’s fair to say that certain Christian pockets of the country are similarly swampy.
But in the end I did sympathize with the selfless, suffering padres, and with the misguided Japanese Christians. Keeping faith is hard. When a padre is pushed to the brink and succumbs to his fear, with God voicing his blessing (it’s a weird scene, y’all), you feel for him. You get what Scorsese spent three hours (and 25 years of developing the film) wanted you to get.
It doesn’t win, though. Wicked wins because I loved it, and these days you’ve gotta appreciate what you love. My mouth fell agape when I made the connection that the poor, shivering bear cub was actually the Cowardly Lion. My face hurt from grinning during Galinda’s spazzing in “Popular”. My childhood nemesis, the Wicked Witch of the West, was now my hero. Getting me to sympathize with her was way more impressive than anything Silence did.
Week 3 Winner: Wicked
Check back next week for another installment of The Entertournament!
Connect with Mike on Twitter, @MikeTVLadue
