2007-03 Vital Source Mag – March 2007
The Days of Wine and Roses
By Russ Bickerstaff As anyone who has been anywhere near it could attest, there is little if anything romantic about alcoholism. And as quaint and idealized as the picture of Irish drinking culture has become in this country, there is little that separates an Irish alcoholic from a Russian alcoholic from an American alcoholic from an alcoholic anywhere in the world. Exploring the tragic nature of the addiction, the Boulevard Ensemble Theatre trots out Owen McCafferty’s compelling dramatic duet The Days Of Wine And Roses. On an exceptionally bare set, Amy Kull and Tom Dillon star as Mona and Donal, an Irish couple meeting for the first time at an airport in Belfast in the early ‘60s. They meet as each are headed to London. He’s going there to further his career as a bookie; she’s going there because she’s fascinated by what she’s heard abut London. The two find themselves leaving familiar elements and have that first drink of whiskey together. Things are never so happy as they are in this opening scene, which manages to capture much of the initial euphoria of two people meeting and falling in love. The Irish accents are solid enough to sound reasonably authentic for Milwaukee ears. They aren’t alarmingly real, but thankfully, both Kull and Dillon know when to tone down the accents and simply let the characters breathe. Nowhere is this more apparent than in this opening scene. The two agree to spend their lives together in the second scene, but we begin to see the seeds of emotional and physical dependency take hold. Things begin to get a bit darker with the third scene, set a full two years after Scene One. We begin to see all the classic charm of an abusive alcoholic romance. It’s not real pleasant to sit through, but Kull and Dillon provide performances with enough depth to keep things from ever getting too entirely dark. Everything does, however, continue to get less and less comfortable as the play crawls toward the ninth and final scene. It’s a very slow crawl to the end in the intimate confines of the Boulevard Theatre. Based on J. P. Miller’s mid-century original drama, a story like this was much more powerful when it first debuted. Alcoholics Anonymous had only been around for a couple of decades back then and the real drama of addiction had only just started to surface on the stage and screen. Now that it’s been thoroughly explored and dissected in dramatic presentations of every shade, The Days Of Wine and Roses doesn’t come across as shocking – just kind of pathetic. As uncomfortable as it is to spend an evening with a couple of abusive, drunken people, it’s even less comfortable sitting through a couple of hours watching a couple of bad actors attempting to portray a couple of abusive, drunken people. Thankfully, we are spared that here. Kull puts in her usual stellar performance and Dillon matches that with what might be his best […]
Mar 20th, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Glass Menagerie
By Jill Gilmer It’s beginning to show its age… or is it? When Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie was first produced in 1945, it drew praise from audiences and critics for its portrayal of a man’s struggle to balance his family responsibilities with his longing for inner fulfillment. This theme, which had broad relevance in the post-depression era, seems quaintly outdated in 2007. However, The Milwaukee Repertory Theatre breathed new life into this American classic by bringing it to the stage with a talented African-American cast and director, creating a provocative theatre experience that challenges racial stereotypes. The Glass Menagerie gives us a peek into the world of the Wingfield family. At its head is Amanda Wingfield, an aging and irritating Southern belle played magnificently by Brenda Thomas. Amanda is struggling to hold on to the privileged lifestyle with which she grew up. Her goal is complicated by her charismatic husband’s decision to walk out on her and her two children many years earlier to pursue his dreams. Amanda is left with the daunting task of maintaining a household with her two adult children: Laura, a shy and crippled 24 year old at risk of becoming an “old maid,” and Tom, a restless 22 year old trying to live up to his mother’s expectations to support the family on a factory worker’s salary while yearning for real-life adventures on par with the movies he adores. This tension-filled family unit begins to unravel when Tom invites Jim Connor, a charming and ambitious co-worker, to dinner with the covert objective of marrying off his sister. What would happen if this all-American story were depicted by African-Americans? Would this classic play transcend race, or would race transform the story? These were some of the questions that motivated director Jacqueline Moscou, who also directed an African-American cast in Death of a Salesman. I believe the answer is both. The human experiences of love, guilt and desire for social status and self-actualization are not bound by race. A blind theatergoer may be unable to detect that the characters are black. However, a sighted audience brings a range of expectations about class and race that this production may confront and challenge. Were there really wealthy black families whose daughters aspired to marry plantation owners? (Yes.) Are there black men who anticipate technological revolution (i.e. the coming of television) and have the discipline and focus to position themselves to take advantage of it? (Yes.) Are black men who abandon their families to follow their dreams any worse than affluent white men who do the same? Ms. Moscou’s Glass Menagerie depicts a world with which few Americans, black or white, are familiar. The story of wealthy African-Americans, many of whom have hired help (and for some, back in the day, slaves), is rarely depicted in the mass media. The references to Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., the 100-year-old college sorority for black women, may have escaped many in the audience. This production could be praised as refreshing and […]
Mar 14th, 2007 by Vital Archives
Smokey Joe’s Café
By Peggy Sue Dunigan The sparks on stage opening weekend for Smokey Joe’s Café at the Skylight Opera were more than electric. Every facet of this musical revue was on fire. Celebrating the most prolific songwriting team from the ‘50s and ‘60s, Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, the review celebrates about 30 of their songs with blazing style. This ground breaking team infused R & B with rock & roll, adding in melodies of jazz and cabaret, and produced 14 #1 hits over four decades. Leiber and Stoller have influenced many songwriters, including Lennon and McCartney, and the duo was inducted into both the Songwriter’s Hall of Fame in 1986 and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1987. While the audience will perhaps remember “Kansas City,” “Love Potion #9,” “Jailhouse Rock” and “Hound Dog,” the revue reverberates through the theater even more creatively on less familiar tunes. The sensual “Trouble,” with a white curtain for a backdrop, and “Don Juan,” which innovatively uses a purple boa, are mesmerizing. Throw in the gospel numbers “D.W.Washburn” together with “Saved” and the staged burned out the fires of hell. The second-act highlights include “Teach Me How to Shimmy,” “I Am a Woman” and the oft immortalized “Stand By Me.” Although every song during the two hour revue could stand-alone. Set in an imaginative post World War II industrial steel framework, complete with a silver catwalk and spiral staircase accented in red, the scenes smoke with creativity. Seamless stage maneuvers and costume changes keep the audience on the edge of their seat while Donna Drake’s compelling choreography and musical director Jamie Johns keep fanning the flames throughout this revue. Stacey Galloway (costume designer), Annmarie Duggan (lighting designer) and Mikhail Moore (sound designer) add their own brand of magic. The six-piece band is a pleasure to watch perform in the background, adding another element of perfection. The talent of each of the nine cast members is also red-hot. Although four are familiar to the Skylight, the remaining five are making their debut to Milwaukee’s delight. Each member has their own individual moment on stage, but alone or together this cast creates combustion every minute of the show, whether slow burning sexy or snap crackling fun. With song or dance, this cast is dynamic and consumes the stage. The audience could barely contain themselves on Saturday night as clapping and cheers combined with lip-syncing in the Cabot Theatre. Afterwards, the free cabaret performance in the Skylight Bar glows with A Nite of 1000 Songs, which includes Ray Jivoff, Liz Baltes, Chris Klopatek and, again, the untiring Jamie Johns at the piano. This becomes a wonderful encore to Smokey Joe’s Café, the high energy, hot ticket in Milwaukee. VS Smokey Joe’s Café is performed in the Cabot Theater at the Broadway Theatre Center through April 1, with the cabaret performance following. Tickets: 414-291-7800
Mar 12th, 2007 by Peggy Sue Dunigan
The Voysey Inheritance
By Russ Bickerstaff The forced perspective is ominous in every single detail and I’m not just talking about the set. Scenic designer Linda Buchanan has taken what probably is little more than glass, plywood and metal strips and turned them into something that brilliantly conveys a feeling of overwhelming immensity in the finite space that is the Quadracci Powerhouse Theater. This set doesn’t represent just any ban – it represents every bank. The bank frames the action in The Rep’s production of playwright Harley Granville-Barker’s early 20th century political drama, The Voysey Inheritance. In one of the Rep’s best performances of the season, Brian Vaughn plays Edward Voysey, a man set to inherit the substantial fortunes of the family business from his father (James Pickering). The play opens as Mr. Voysey reveals to Edward certain particulars of the business he is set to inherit. In a particularly fascinating bit of dry business conversation, Edward expresses outrage at the fact that his father has been taking money from people who have entrusted it to his business in order to finance a very lavish lifestyle. The elder Voysey assures Edward that the money will be there for his clients when they need it. Thus begins the journey of discovery that every subsequent generation learns from the one which preceded it. All is not as neat and tidy as we have been led to believe and the responsibility for the colossal mess will soon rest in our hands. All too quickly the elder Voysey passes away, leaving Edward with the choice of either putting things right with the business or maintaining things as the have been for decades. It’s a difficult choice that involves not only his substantial fortune, but also that of a large extended family that relies on money unlawfully amassed by the business. Aiding Edward in his decision is his long-time romantic interest Alice Maitland (Jessica Bates). Edward has proposed to Alice on numerous occasions to no avail. Bates and Vaughn do an admirable job of delivering the kind of chemistry that attracts two equals romantically interested in each other while also accurately portraying the kind of perpetual posturing that keeps them from ever really getting together until outside forces necessitate it. It’s the most satisfying romantic performance to hit the stages so far this season. The rest of the Rep cast rounds out the stage quite well. We see Rose Pickring in a clever performance as the hearing impaired widow of Edward’s father. Yes it’s incredibly lowbrow and more than a tad insensitive, but as old as deaf comedy is, it never fails to hit. It’s Rose’s brilliantly delayed timing that makes it work so well here. Jonathan Smoots plays vanity with his usual flair as the pompous Booth Voysey. Capable of lending fresh elements to any ensemble, Gerard Neugent cleverly plays the artistically inclined Hugh Voysey. His decision to forfeit his inheritance for the good of the company near the play’s end holds a startlingly memorable bit of […]
Mar 12th, 2007 by Vital Archives
Bob Mittnacht and the Crowning Glories
By Blaine Schultz Tuning into WMSE on Tuesday nights for the Midnight Radio program might give you some advance warning of the influences that figure into Bob Mittnacht’s talents as a songwriter. Coming off somewhere between Garland Jeffries and T-Bone Burnett, Mittnacht and his band combine guileless lyrics with an organic rock sound the features great pedal steel swells by Ken Champion and Hammond organ parts from Larry Byrne. As a guitarist Mittnacht’s clean and economic Telecaster lines add punctuation with punchy riffs. Prismatic childhood memories of older gearheads as well as thoughts of raising one’s own family root these songs in something other than the latest hipster fad. There’s nothing trendy here, just sturdy tunes built for the long haul. Not that Mittnacht doesn’t have an axe to grind. “All Screwed Up,” the ominous “There’s A Better Way” and “Ivory Tower” illuminates his social conscience and frustrations with the powers that be. Here’s to the emergence of the Port Washington Sound. VS See Bob Mittnacht and the Crowning Glories opening 3/11 at Shank Hall with Chris Difford of Squeeze
Mar 9th, 2007 by Vital Archives
A Lie of the Mind
By Russ Bickerstaff Playwright Sam Shepherd is known for some pretty brutal drama. People go through intense stress. People get hurt. Sometimes things get weird. And, in the case of A Lie Of The Mind, sometimes things get REALLY weird. Windfall Theatre continues its 14th season with a thoughtful staging of one of Shepherd’s most compellingly off-center works. Thomas and Sonia Rosenthal play Jake and Beth, the archetypal abusive young lovers who really should never have gotten together in the first place. With Shepherd’s script, we don’t see them together for much of the play. This is after the pain and suffering of incompatible love. The play happens well after the relationship has completely fallen apart. Beth is in the hospital and Jake has put her there. Mistakenly assuming that he has killed her, Jake goes to see his brother Frankie (Keith Tamsett) to help him sort things out while Beth finds herself visited by her brother Mike (Robert W.C. Kennedy) in the hospital. As Frankie tries to piece together what Jake did to Beth, Mike spends time with Beth trying to help her recover. The Mike and Beth dynamic is much more interesting at this point. Beth has been severely damaged by the beating Jake gave her. She can barely speak the language, as many words are lost to her. Shepherd gives her some very powerful lines with a severely limited vocabulary. Sonia Rosenthal performs the lines impeccably. It’s one thing to sound stilted by deliberately sparse dialogue . . . it’s another altogether to make that stilted dialogue sound natural. Sonia plays it beautifully. Through Sonia, we see the damage that has been done to Beth and it carries much of the first act. Thomas Rosenthal’s performance as Jake, however, is missing something early on. Mike struggles as Jake struggles to express himself to a world of which he’s very fearful and suspicious. Rather than being compellingly uncomfortable, Jake’s early scenes are just plain uncomfortable, which has its own effect entirely. The play rolls into its second act as we are introduced to more characters. Frankie takes Jake to be with their family so his mother can look after him. Carol Zippel plays Jake’s mother, Lorrain, with all the misguided pride that comes with a character who has spent a lifetime covering for her son’s brutal mistakes. Zippel’s performance enhances Jake’s end of the story considerably. CommedySportz’s Stacey Meyer takes a fascinating dramatic turn playing Jake’s sister Sally. She just might be one of the brightest, most pulled together characters in the entire play, which means that as an audience, we’re seeing things more through her perspective than any other character in the play. Rarely has a character seemed this interested in being the emotional medium between the world of the play and the world of the audience. Meyer plays the character with precisely the kind of disinterested strength for which the role calls. Meanwhile, Beth is taken home to be with her brother, father and mother. Here […]
Mar 8th, 2007 by Vital Archives
Macbeth
By Russ Bickerstaff It’s a bombed-out brick wall that looks like it’s just barely survived some sort of apocalypse. There are sweetly sick trees dotting the stage. There’s a decaying playground merry-go-round over to the left. Civilized civilization has been here and left. What else could this be but Macbeth? Marjorie Bradley Kellogg sets the stage for Milwaukee Shakespeare’s production with a design meant to invoke an ambiguous contemporary era. The production design, a collaboration between Kellogg, Director Eleanor Holdridge and a few others, stands as one of the few modest innovations in an otherwise uncharacteristically unimpressive and disappointing production for Milwaukee Shakespeare. The witches. It always starts with the witches, played here by Alison Mary Forbes, Laura Gray and Ted Dyson. Immensely clever sound design by Joshua Horvath wraps those first few moments of the first act in a feeling of decay. That isn’t static or distortion everyone’s hearing over the speakers . . . this is Milwaukee Shakespeare – they have some of the slickest productions seen on local stages, they would’ve worked out any problems with the sound system in tech rehearsals. No, that’s not static; it’s a sound reminiscent of the clicking of a Geiger counter. We’re in terribly diseased times here and Horvath brings the setting across with strikingly subtle clarity. In walk the three witches in rags . . . every bit as creepy and diseased as one would expect. Dyson is hardly visible beneath garb and makeup and mannerisms that transform him into an old crone. Laura Gray looks refined and faded in somewhat dated fashions . . . like she’d just walked out of an old photograph on decades-old newsprint that had turned yellow in a gutter somewhere. She’s got a deliciously disturbing poise about her. And then there’s the fresh-faced wholesomeness of Alison Mary Forbes, which costuming, makeup and lighting have bleached into sickly emaciation. The three double as excellent background décor. They’re post-apocalyptic scavengers who seem to take particular pleasure in making scene changes and the action moving. Things settle down once the action takes hold. Relatively fresh from his performance as King Lear with the Rep earlier this year, Mark Corkins graces the stage for his second performance in the title role of a Shakespearian tragedy in a single season. Corkins is brash and gruff in the role of Macbeth with just the right amount of authentic fear peaking through from beneath it all. There something that doesn’t feel quite right about the way Corkins fills the role, however. At the risk of sounding overly critical (and downright pretentious), I preferred James DeVita’s performance in the title role of the American Players Theatre’s 2005 production. DeVita had the distinction of being both cold and vulnerable in the role of the tragic figure, making for a much more textured performance on the surface. Corkins’ vulnerability as Macbeth is much more subtle, making for an entirely different experience. Milwaukee Shakespeare’s production is everything one could expect from a well-funded theatre group […]
Mar 5th, 2007 by Vital Archives
A Lesson From Aloes
By Russ Bickerstaff Juxtapose three people in a domestic setting and you probably could end up launching a production of just about anything. Milwaukee Camber Theatre uses three actors and a domestic setting to launch a particularly moving bit of drama with Athol Fugard’s A Lesson From Aloes. All appears reasonably peaceful on the set as the lights rise but it’s an illusion. Aloes takes place in the oppressive days of the early 1960s in South Africa. We see the effects of a police state on three distinctly different individuals. It’s an interesting set up that is masterfully executed by three talented actors under the direction of a Milwaukee theatre icon in a lush and detailed set that is tastefully illuminated. A Lesson From Aloes is a compelling evening of drama. As the play opens, Piet Bezuidenhout (Brian Robert Mani) is feverishly studying tiny potted aloes that he had collected. The stage is decorated in great numbers of them and he is talking about them with great passion. It’s easy to get caught up in Piet’s interest as the intensity of Mani’s performance animates Fugard’s subtly poetic bits of dialogue. As preoccupied as Piet and much of the play seems to be with Aloes, we find out later on that it’s only a recently acquired hobby for him. There’s a lot more to him and his life and his relationship with his wife than breathes through the surface. The brilliant thing about Mani’s performance is that, as central a figure as he is onstage, the complexity of his personality comes as something of a surprise as it is slowly revealed. While there is very little direct foreshadowing to this complexity, it doesn’t seem to come out of nowhere when it finally becomes apparent. As the lights come up on that first scene, Piet’s wife Gladys (Tracy Michelle Arnold) is sitting not far from him wearing a big, dark pair of sunglasses. As simple as this seems, she’s a bit of a mystery even in the opening minutes. We’re not even seeing her eyes. The character slowly seems to get more and more comfortable with the third wall as things progress. Fugard slowly coaxes her into greater and greater prominence as the plot navigates its way to the end of the last act. Tracy Michelle Arnold plays it with a style and poise that gazes right into the heart of the character. The role requires much of her expression to be nonverbal. Nowhere is this more apparent than when she is alone at a writing desk in the bedroom. As the audience, we’re seeing the bedroom from a cutout in the wall. It feels very invasive watching Arnold in the bedroom even though she’s actually doing very little. It’s one of the most delicate bits in the entire play and she carries it off remarkably well. Patrick Sims rounds out the cast as Steve Daniels – an old friend of Piet’s. Steve is a black man reluctantly moving to England because […]
Mar 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
A new hope?
By Jon Anne Willow Dear Readers, First off, thank you to everyone who came down to our 5th birthday party on February 24 at Turner Hall. I will freely admit that at press time the party hasn’t happened yet, so I’ll refrain from any mention of what a huge success it was. I can with confidence, however, thank our wonderful sponsors. Time Warner Cable made the party possible and WMSE really helped us get the word out. The Brewcity Bruisers, Pabst Theater, Coldwell Banker, The Oxygen Network, HBO, Windfall Theater, Atomic Tattoo and Hairys Hair Bar all sponsored booths, worked the room and/or donated fabulous prizes, which we in turn gave to you, our readers. Please support them in the coming year with your patronage. They truly put the rubber to the road when it comes to supporting local, independent media. ********************************************************************************* I’ve been thinking a lot lately about consumer confidence, and here’s why. VITAL is free to the people and supported by advertisers. It’s a common model, though like most startup businesses, the majority of free publications fail within their first two years. Ours didn’t, but it’s grown slowly. Initially, of course, there were normal factors to consider: lack of awareness, a weaker distribution network than our peers, etc. In time we overcame these hurdles and saw good results. Today, we have terrific advertisers, a talented staff, a sounder distribution network and a fantastic printer. But I’ve been in the media business a long time, and the hustle we do at VITAL to keep the numbers up is beyond what I would’ve previously considered the norm. At first I thought the issue might be about the state of print, but it’s wider. Everybody’s in the same boat, from the daily newspaper to the weeklies, the glossy monthlies and even broadcast and online media. If ad spending is up nationally (it’s at an all-time high), why are local outlets flat? This has been bugging me for about a year now, and I’ve spent that time trying to figure out the reason. I’ve caucused with other publishers, drunk untold cups of coffee with local business owners and managers and polled VITAL’s readership both formally and anecdotally. Some of what I heard comes down to quality issues – who wants to be associated with something they think is sub-par? But a big part of the reason, at least according to my highly unofficial research, is confidence. The economy has been in a slump for the entire life of VITAL, with the latest findings by the Bureau of Economic Analysis (BEA) showing that for the first time since the Great Depression, Americans spent more than they’re worth in 2006, mostly on gas, mortgages and prescription medications. These days, average people stay home more and consume less, and this in turn puts the squeeze on local businesses, from clothing boutiques to restaurants and theaters. You can connect the rest of the dots yourself. But there may be good news on the horizon. The Fed […]
Mar 1st, 2007 by Jon Anne Willow
Van Morrison
By Blaine Schultz Ducks don’t come much odder than Van Morrison. He refers to his biggest hit “Brown Eyed Girl” as “the money shot” when he deigns to play the tune live. Often times it is not on the set list and it is strange that a guy who doesn’t exactly banter with the audience would offer a pornographic backslap to introduce the tune. As the teenage leader of Belfast’s Them, Van wrote the garage-punk anthem “Gloria” and that tune typically gets short shrift as well at his performances. Yet give Morrison utmost credit for being true to his muse over the course of a four decade career. He’s gone from garage R&B to pop hits to the stream of consciousness masterpiece Astral Weeks to albums that veer dangerously close to New Age, but he’s always done it on his own terms. Only Bob Dylan and Neil Young have lead such long and winding careers. For his 1974 appearance at the Montreux jazz festival Morrison’s most recent studio album had been Hard Nose the Highway – a likeable record but not exactly a career marker. For this date he’d left behind his sprawling Caledonia Soul Orchestra and, according to legend, assembled a piano/bass/drums group at Montreux. Very few artists, even in the open minded post-hippie 1974, would be willing to take such a chance with a pickup band of stellar players. Which goes a ways to explain why so few artists fall into a category with Morrison. And true to form, the set list reflects no expected choices and is littered with tunes that would be played rarely over the years. “Twilight Zone” eventually surfaced on the Philosopher’s Stone compilation as a different arrangement featuring an odd falsetto vocal. At Montreux Van acquits himself on acoustic guitar picking out spare bluesy riffs while Jerome Rimson’s upright bass and Pete Wingfield’s piano also take melodic turns. He also takes turns on harmonica (impressive) and saxophone (less so). If the first show is a unique document the second avails its riches with repeated viewings. In 1980 Morrison would again return to the expanded band format, highlighted here by ex-James Brown sax player Pee Wee Ellis’ extended solos. It is evident that Morrison trusts his musicians and gives them reign to tap into the moment while Morrison loses himself as well. “Summertime in England” builds to a Morrison and Ellis call and response near-Evangelical situation verging on hypnosis and as the tune fades the band launches into “Moondance” and Morrison looks like an alarm clock just went off in his head and he’s wondering what he’s doing onstage. This particular segment is a gem; that sense of a Holy Grail moment that players and listeners will tell you justifies an obsession – to paraphrase Van himself – sometimes “it ain’t why, it just is.” The next pair of tunes “Haunts of Ancient Peace” and “Wild Night” offers a similar juxtaposition. The set list is a near-perfect 15 song travelogue moving from trance inducing […]
Mar 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Higher
That maddest of alchemists, the music industry, has managed to seamlessly spin the two most popular genres from the two most dominant high school cliques (punks and preps) into SoundScan gold: the Mallpunk Boy Band, personified by fresh-faced and darling (but edgy and badass) kids like Good Charlotte and Fall Out Boy. And now, Epitaph Records has jumped into the game with The Higher, a competent quintet of lads who expertly paint by numbers with their debut, On Fire. This has the makings of a top seller, so I suppose it’s hard to blame Epitaph, formerly home to politically-charged, socially relevant punk rock like Bad Religion, for releasing something this languid and dispassionate. The performances are solid, the production slick, the hooks not out of place on a Justin Timberlake album. The Higher are destined for commercial success, sure to dominate the Warped Tour mid-card for years (and getting close—so close!—to finally headlining over Motion City Soundtrack). And good for them. Having Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump remix one of their tracks (“Pace Yourself” ) won’t hurt, either. It just sounds like a band looking to cash in. With On Fire, one must, at the very least, hope that the kids discovering punk rock through bands like this will take note of the label releasing them, stumble upon Bad Religion and look back at this release with the critical eye of a suddenly more seasoned listener. Perhaps then they will file The Higher away as a band that served their purpose: a junior-high gateway drug to music with substance. Then, in their own special way, The Higher will have mattered. VS
Mar 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
Girls on film
By Russ Bickerstaff Once again, winter ends with Women’s History Month, and in recognition of this the UWM Film Department presents its 3rd Annual Women Without Borders Film Festival at the Union Cinema. The festival celebrates film by and about women who have crossed borders of every kind. And as in the past, this year’s festival features a wide range of compelling work. Documentaries cover such disparate subject matter as modern menstruation (with Giovanna Chesler’s Period on March 7), teenage life complicated by tribal culture (with Tracey Deer’ Mohawk Girls on March 11) and the story of the first woman to hijack an airplane (Lina Mackboul’s film about Leila Khaed on March 10). Lots of strange little experimental bits rush across the screen in a program that should prove to be quite an experience. One of the most provocative double features of the festival occurs March 9. Therese Shecter’s I Was A Teenage Feminist {Image 3} starts at 7pm, followed at 9pm by Gillian Aldrich and Jennifer Baumgartner’s I Had An Abortion {Image 2}. The former details Shecter’s attempts to come to terms with her life as a feminist after a lengthy time away from the movement. Her story begins at the dawn of women’s liberation while she was a teenager and follows the feminist movement through to the present. On the whole, it’s a nice, conversational introduction to the first principals of feminism, though most people already familiar with the movement won’t see much new here unless they find Shecter particularly interesting on her own terms. The brief street interview with the self-proclaimed feminist protesting abortion is a brilliant, yet passing, moment in the film. And as strange as it is that so much of the film is centered around Shecter’s formative feminist experiences watching the children’s TV special Free To Be . . . You And Me, it’s captivating to watch one of its writers tell her that the idealistic children’s program really didn’t promise her anything about gender roles. I Had An Abortion is more cohesive. Aldrich and Baumgartner put together a well thought-out history of abortion from women over the past several decades and from various socio-cultural backgrounds who have experienced it firsthand. The narratives are placed in chronological order, starting with a compelling account from over half a century ago. Feminist icon Gloria Steinem’s recounting of her own abortion early on in the film is almost hypnotic, but it’s the most recent narratives that really ground the film. I Had An Abortion draws its strength from its relentlessness. It’s not often that women casually mention the abortion they had. Regardless of how one feels about the issue, it’s profoundly moving to see this many women talking about it so openly. Possibly the best single documentary in the festival, Diana Ferrero’s They Call Me Muslim {Image 1}, opens yet another stirring double feature on March 10. It’s a piece so brilliantly framed that it’s surprising it hasn’t seen wider distribution at film festivals since its first […]
Mar 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
