Because I'm impatient for the new season of Chuck to start next month, I was watching some early episodes last night and I realized that Yvonne Strahovski would be an amazing Black Widow. I don't know why I didn't think of that before. Her character on Chuck (his CIA handler) is not that dissimilar from the Black Widow (originally a Soviet spy who defected to the U.S.), and she certainly can portray someone that complicated. And she already kicks ass on Chuck, so she's got that covered.
Watching the show again after a few months has reminded me how well-written character of Sarah Walker is--she's incredibly strong and focused on her work without being bitchy or cold, and her vulnerable moments are subtle and genuine. Yvonne Strahovski deserves a lot of credit for that, too. As much as I wish I could see her in Iron Man 2 (or, while I'm dreaming, a Black Widow movie), I'm definitely looking forward to seeing where she takes her character in the upcoming season of Chuck (which, by the way, is a really smart, funny, and emotionally honest show that you should watch, especially since it has undercover government agents and a socially awkward protagonist).
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
This Is The Dream I Never Knew I Had
Lin-Manuel Miranda's latest project: The Hamilton Mixtape:
For some reason, Alexander Hamilton fans don't appear to be all that common. I know a lot of history geeks (and I'm one myself, albeit a more casual one), but only three of them are passionate about Alexander Hamilton, and I'm including myself in that count. I find that surprising. Growing up in a suburb of Boston meant an overexposure to all things Revolutionary War--I dressed up as a colonial girl more than once in elementary school, I could see a tavern from my house, and on Patriot's Day (you Massholes know what I'm talking about), gunshots from the early morning reenactment would wake me up. Living in all that history got old by sixth grade.
But Alexander Hamilton was different. His background, his determination, and his wholehearted commitment to pretty much everything has always made him stand out to me. There were plenty of strong-willed, brilliant, and passionate men working for independence, but there weren't any quite like Alexander Hamilton. He was badass.
Hamilton's life seems perfect for musical theatre--the man died in a duel!--so it's about time somebody tried making Hamilton sing. Lin-Manuel Miranda seems counter-intuitive; hip hop in the 1770s, really? But after listening to that opening number, I can't think of anyone better. I love the quiet tension underlying the song; it makes me think of a coiled spring that could snap at any moment, and it gives the number--and potentially the whole piece--a momentum and energy that suits Hamilton completely. Having Aaron Burr open the show, introducing the audience to Hamilton and the world of the musical, is a fascinating choice. I'm curious to see how that'll play out--does he narrate the whole show? I love that the music isn't period at all, as well.
In addition to capturing Hamilton's intense and independent personality, the music makes it very clear that this is not going to be a straightfoward look at a man's life. I know nothing of this project other than this song, but the music alone makes me expect a non-realistic world with its own set of rules. The music automatically causes audiences to see the story in modern terms, which I think is really cool. I feel early American history is often preserved behind museum glass. This music and these words shatter that glass and forces our history to live right alongside us, where it belongs.
For some reason, Alexander Hamilton fans don't appear to be all that common. I know a lot of history geeks (and I'm one myself, albeit a more casual one), but only three of them are passionate about Alexander Hamilton, and I'm including myself in that count. I find that surprising. Growing up in a suburb of Boston meant an overexposure to all things Revolutionary War--I dressed up as a colonial girl more than once in elementary school, I could see a tavern from my house, and on Patriot's Day (you Massholes know what I'm talking about), gunshots from the early morning reenactment would wake me up. Living in all that history got old by sixth grade.
But Alexander Hamilton was different. His background, his determination, and his wholehearted commitment to pretty much everything has always made him stand out to me. There were plenty of strong-willed, brilliant, and passionate men working for independence, but there weren't any quite like Alexander Hamilton. He was badass.
Hamilton's life seems perfect for musical theatre--the man died in a duel!--so it's about time somebody tried making Hamilton sing. Lin-Manuel Miranda seems counter-intuitive; hip hop in the 1770s, really? But after listening to that opening number, I can't think of anyone better. I love the quiet tension underlying the song; it makes me think of a coiled spring that could snap at any moment, and it gives the number--and potentially the whole piece--a momentum and energy that suits Hamilton completely. Having Aaron Burr open the show, introducing the audience to Hamilton and the world of the musical, is a fascinating choice. I'm curious to see how that'll play out--does he narrate the whole show? I love that the music isn't period at all, as well.
In addition to capturing Hamilton's intense and independent personality, the music makes it very clear that this is not going to be a straightfoward look at a man's life. I know nothing of this project other than this song, but the music alone makes me expect a non-realistic world with its own set of rules. The music automatically causes audiences to see the story in modern terms, which I think is really cool. I feel early American history is often preserved behind museum glass. This music and these words shatter that glass and forces our history to live right alongside us, where it belongs.
International City; International Theatre
According to this Washington Post article, Washington D.C. is becoming much more of a center for international theatre. This has me really excited, even though I live in New York. It's definitely a good thing for other American cities to have strong theatre scenes--not everyone can get to New York--and I think it's especially important for cities like D.C. and Boston to have very distinct theatre scenes since they're so close to New York. Between the Kennedy Center, Arena Stage, and the Signature, there's a lot of really awesome things going on in that area. Adding international theatre will only make D.C. theatre more exciting, as well as keep it unique. Besides, it's only fitting, given the political nature of the city.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
"You Know, I Could Go For A Slice."
As a whole, I'm not much of a fan of metatheatre, but I love metatheatrical techniques that work within the world of the story, instead of ones that remind you what you're seeing isn't real. The new Turtles Forever movie, which aired on the CW a little over a week or so ago to celebrate 25 years of Turtle Power, employs the former with an elegant amount of subtly and respect for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise as a whole.
Briefly, the story centers on the current incarnation of the Ninja Turtles, who recieved a revamped and modernized animated series in 2003. These Turtles sport larger muscles, face off against more serious enemies, and inhabit a far more interconnected world than than their predecessors from the 1987 TV series, with storyarcs running through multiple episodes. Early on in the movie, they rescue another set of Turtles--those from the 1987 series--and realize that the '87 turtles are from another dimension, and came into this dimension accidently. Unfortunately, the same is true for Shredder and Krang...and their Technodrome. Ultimately, all eight Turtles discover that the '03 version of Shredder plans to destroy all incarnations of Ninja Turtles in all universes by destroying the Prime universe.
I was a huge Turtles fan when I was a little kid, so I loved seeing the '87 Turtles intereact with the '03 ones. The juxtaposition of the goofy, pizza-addicted '87 Turtles and the darker world of the '03 Turtles gently pokes fun at how ridiculous the older series was while not making the '87 Turtles out to be buffoons. '87 Donatello's inventions and use of "science" baffles '03 Donatello, for instance, but those inventions somehow work.
When the Turtles reach the Prime universe, they encounter the original comic book versions of themselves--who are significantly darker than the '03 Turtles. It was fascinating to see the spectrum of Turtles, ranging from the original, almost gritty conception, to the silly TV series, to something in between. I think it's brilliant to acknowledge that all three versions--and many, many more--coexist in a greater multiverse. Crossing into other dimensions, as well as traveling through time, has long been a part of the Turtles franchise, so it stands to reason that alternate dimensions would have their own Turtles, too.
I was also struck by the vast difference in tone when both series were created for children. As much as I enjoyed the '87 Turtles series and the live action movies (andI still do), I'm really glad the material is being given a darker treatment, particularly since it's closer to the source material. I think Batman: The Animated Series and Justice League Unlimited did a lot to redefine what a children's Saturday morning cartoon can do, and I think it's really important to have those sorts of shows out there. Kids can handle more than a lot of adults think they can, and if they're given a show that's slightly more complex, they'll generally be able to keep up. I think that's particularly true when dealing with superheroes; it's hard to invest in a character whose powers give her an advantage over her enemies, since she doesn't have that much at stake. And when the superheroes in question are a bunch of mutant 15 year old turtles, each of them needs to have something worth losing--and be in an environment where that could feasibly happen. In the 2003 series--one in which characters have died--that's certainly the case.
Briefly, the story centers on the current incarnation of the Ninja Turtles, who recieved a revamped and modernized animated series in 2003. These Turtles sport larger muscles, face off against more serious enemies, and inhabit a far more interconnected world than than their predecessors from the 1987 TV series, with storyarcs running through multiple episodes. Early on in the movie, they rescue another set of Turtles--those from the 1987 series--and realize that the '87 turtles are from another dimension, and came into this dimension accidently. Unfortunately, the same is true for Shredder and Krang...and their Technodrome. Ultimately, all eight Turtles discover that the '03 version of Shredder plans to destroy all incarnations of Ninja Turtles in all universes by destroying the Prime universe.
I was a huge Turtles fan when I was a little kid, so I loved seeing the '87 Turtles intereact with the '03 ones. The juxtaposition of the goofy, pizza-addicted '87 Turtles and the darker world of the '03 Turtles gently pokes fun at how ridiculous the older series was while not making the '87 Turtles out to be buffoons. '87 Donatello's inventions and use of "science" baffles '03 Donatello, for instance, but those inventions somehow work.
When the Turtles reach the Prime universe, they encounter the original comic book versions of themselves--who are significantly darker than the '03 Turtles. It was fascinating to see the spectrum of Turtles, ranging from the original, almost gritty conception, to the silly TV series, to something in between. I think it's brilliant to acknowledge that all three versions--and many, many more--coexist in a greater multiverse. Crossing into other dimensions, as well as traveling through time, has long been a part of the Turtles franchise, so it stands to reason that alternate dimensions would have their own Turtles, too.
I was also struck by the vast difference in tone when both series were created for children. As much as I enjoyed the '87 Turtles series and the live action movies (andI still do), I'm really glad the material is being given a darker treatment, particularly since it's closer to the source material. I think Batman: The Animated Series and Justice League Unlimited did a lot to redefine what a children's Saturday morning cartoon can do, and I think it's really important to have those sorts of shows out there. Kids can handle more than a lot of adults think they can, and if they're given a show that's slightly more complex, they'll generally be able to keep up. I think that's particularly true when dealing with superheroes; it's hard to invest in a character whose powers give her an advantage over her enemies, since she doesn't have that much at stake. And when the superheroes in question are a bunch of mutant 15 year old turtles, each of them needs to have something worth losing--and be in an environment where that could feasibly happen. In the 2003 series--one in which characters have died--that's certainly the case.
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