Whole

Last night I watched Whole (2003), a documentary by Melody Gilbert about voluntary amputees.

I had come across this phenomenon in the course of my own research and this documentary came up when I started googling. I was nervous to watch it, as the concept so deeply creeped me out. I felt like I was going to watch a horror show.

However, Whole did such a good job of not sensationalizing its subject, that my fears were put to rest. It follows a few people who have a strong longstanding need to be amputated. They feel that they are not "whole" with the superfluous limb, and the need is felt very acutely and chronically. Two of the people had harmed their legs so severely that they had to be medically amputated. One found the rare surgeon willing to perform the operation. Two contemplated the procedure, one binding his leg and living as an amputee.

What was so odd was that these men were in every other sense "normal" (rather boringly so, in fact) -- it was difficult to reconcile this with their bizarre and peculiar and extreme need.

I thought Whole was very well done. In only 55 minutes it included discussions with psychiatrists and family members, in addition to the amputees and "wannabes."

Simon Boccanegra (again)

The second night in a row at the Met; the second night in a row of Verdi -- last night I saw Simon Boccanegra! These were orchestra tickets which I won for $25 in their weekly drawing.

Meridita and I saw Simon Boccanegra last year with Placido, and loved it. This evening featured Dmitri Hvorostovksy in the title role and he was amazing.

However, I had two glasses of sparkling rose before the performance, and it was a Friday night, which is tough for me because I am so wiped out at the end of the week. All this to say I was horribly tired, and actually slept through the powerful 4th act.

In spite of that, I deeply appreciated the awesome singing, and this remains a favorite opera of mine.

The conductor was the great James Levine. Richard Berstein sang Pietro; Ferruccia Furlanetto sang Fiesco; Ramon Vargas was amazing as Adorno; and Barbara Frittoli sang Amelia/Maria.

Rigoletto at the Met!

What an incredible evening! Last night Meridita and I saw Rigoletto at the Met!

It was a powerful, rich, full-bodied, lusty, muscular opera.

I loved it.

The performances included a wildly charismatic Piotr Beczala who was replacing Joseph Calleja as the Duke of Mantua. He lit up the stage with his charming and arrogant persona and had an incredibly beautiful voice.

I was also utterly captivated by Nino Machaidze's singing of the role of Gilda, Rigoletto's daughter. Her voice was incredible and the duets she sang with Giovanni Meoni (Rigoletto) were stunning. She was also adorable and charming during her curtain calls.

The evening was conducted by Paolo Arrivabeni; and Stefan Kocan sang Sparafucile.

Somewhere

I was disappointed by Sofia Coppola's Somewhere, but that didn't keep me from being captivated by it.

Somewhere is about a famous young actor experiencing alienation and ennui in the privileged Hollywood milieu. It's a mood piece, an extended portrayal of baffled isolation. What makes it so strong is the actor's polite passivity and slightly stunned confusion -- not confusion exactly but lack of emotional or intellectual or social clarity.

The mood is lifted, temporarily, by an extended visit with his daughter, played beautifully by Elle Fanning. Her subtle performance is riveting, and I watched her fascinated, wanting to no more about her. Somewhere is an exercise in understatement. Nothing much happens between the father and daughter, but their simple hanging out, their easy enjoyment of each others company is the light in the fathers privileged and spoiled fog. The ending bothered me a lot; it was contrived and cliched -- the father walking off into the distance after experiencing some sort of inner epiphany.

I guess I wanted a little more from Somewhere. It is similar in some way to Lost in Translation, which killed me, but lacks some sort of spark or crackle or tension. It felt like a very well executed short story, and perhaps I wanted more of a novel.

One incredible scene: the father (played by Stephen Dorff), is being fitted for a mold for special effects in some movie. He has to sit there with his face covered in plaster. Nothing but two globby holes for his nostrils. At one point the makeup people leave the room and he is sitting there for an interminable length of time. Breathing. Coppola took her time with this shot, luxuriating in it, and it was one of the most tense, painful, brilliantly claustrophobic moments I've ever experienced.

A Single Man

A Single Man, starring Colin Firth, is a beautiful, sophisticated mood piece. An exploration of grief and loss and love.

It centers on a gay man in the 60s whose lover has died in a car crash. In addition to the deep painful grief he experiences is the isolation of being gay, of having lost a love that had to be hidden and unrecognized.

It is filmed in an intoxicating atmospheric way that is sometime too much, but it succeeds in bringing out emotional nuances.

I found the resolution kind of a cliche however, and, as much as I liked A Single Man, I couldn't really get absorbed in it. I actually watched it in spurts, a few minutes here one day, a few the next.

Homo Health & Fitness

Just read a fabulous little zine, Homo Health & Fitness (Your Guide to a New, Queer You!) -- a humorous take on 50s and 60s era health advice. Very cool.

"The task we have set for ourselves is to reveal the intimate, oft unsuspected relation that exists and the realization of queer ideals."

The Bulldyke Chronicles at Dixon Place

I had a great time last night at Dixon Place. I saw The Bulldyke Chronicles, a cabaret evening hosted by Shelly Mars.

It was so fun. The four or five performers were each very charming in their own ways. One comedian talking about coming out, another talking about interracial relationships, a very engaging, funny piano player/singer. And Ms. Mars was terrific! She adopted a bunch of different personas and delivered hilarious monologues. A wonderful show (even though it started at least an hour late).