Akeelah and the Bee

Starbucks (considered the evil empire by some) has produced its first movie, Akeelah and the Bee, the story of Akeelah Anderson, an eleven year old from LA who makes her way to Washington, DC for the National Spelling Bee. Akeelah overlays the documentary Spellbound with a powerfully dramatic story of overcoming adversity.

Akeelah, brought to life with poise and grace by young Keke Palmer, reluctantly accepts the challenge of representing her failing school at the district spelling bee. Supported only by her oldest brother who is using the Air Force to get a college education, her principal, and her spelling coach Dr. Larabee (Laurence Fishburne), Akeelah fears that she will become the object of much unwanted attention. With a single mother (Angela Bassett) who is forever working to support her family, a wannabe, self-loathing, gangbanger brother, and a sister who is a teen mother, Akeelah seems the last person with a chance at getting to the National Spelling Bee much less winning.

Akeelah and the Bee is a funny and emotional ride. Writer and director Doug Atchison has created characters who are true to life; each of them wrestles with their own demons and finds in one another the strength to change their lives. In the end, Akeelah's family, school, and neighborhood get behind their new favorite girl.

With an inspirational message that it is possible to overcome great adversity and achieve your dreams, Akeelah and the Bee is the family movie that deserves to be the sleeper hit of the season. Bring you tissues, you'll need them.

Boarding School Malaise

Imagine, if you will, leaving Indiana at fourteen, by yourself, for one of the nation's elite boarding schools in Massachusetts. Over the next four years, you never distinguish yourself—not academically, athletically, or socially—though once you were the very definition of overachiever. Though miserable, you never return home, and you never do anything to salve the pain of staying.

This is exactly the situation Curtis Sittenfeld creates for Lee Fiora in her best-selling Prep, a first person narrative style that is, in fact, a fictional memoir, told years later. A masterpiece of teen angst, Prep sits on the same continuum as Hairstyles of the Damned (previously reviewed) but at the opposite pole. Not only is this the feminine perspective, but it is also the overly analytical introspection of a true introvert, which some might misconstrue as narcissism.

Prep is a classic fish out of water story. Ault, the fictional boarding school Lee attends, is populated by the beautiful and the wealthy, and Lee, a scholarship student, is neither. When she arrives, her desire to conform, to fit in, causes a paralyzing anxiety from which she never recovers. Lee, the once outgoing student, becomes the passive receptor who cannot even muster the courage to be passive aggressive. Presented time and again with opportunities to do something, anything, Lee instead chooses to do nothing for fear of revealing herself to be a fraud.

In the end, Lee's first love, Cross Sugarman, diagnoses Lee's problem. "'I'm just saying that—' His tone softened. 'That I bet things would be easier for you if you either realized you're not that weird or decided that being weird isn't bad.'" If only every teen could come to that realization. Conformity is the bugaboo of adolescence, but those who come through it without being broken by it, often have the most to offer society as individuals, not just cogs in the machinery.

Outcasts of the World Unite

Punctuated with the equivocating "maybe," the valleygirl "like," and every conceivable application of "fuck," Hairstyles of the Damned is the authentic voice of the world of adolescent angst where everyone is an outcast searching for a place to call home.

Joe Meno's novel is a year in the life of seventeen year old Brian, a Catholic school student, who wants more than anything to find himself and be accepted by those around him. Along the way his family falls apart, he stops talking to his best friend, he finds and is fired from a job, his new best friend becomes a hardcore stoner, he loses his virginity and then loses the girl, and he commits a series of crimes on skateboard.

Music is the driving metaphor of Hairsyles. Brian transforms himself from a serious metalhead to a punk rocker, only to realize that the non-conformists are just conforming to a different standard.

"Just because you have blue hair and fucked-up clothes doesn't mean you're better than everyone else. Because you know what? You're just conforming to someone else's code. Even though don't wear kakhis or sweaters or whatever, but to me all you guys look the same.You think you're so individualistic, but you're not. You guys...you're anti-snob snobs. But you're just as mean as the preppy kids. You're all just as fucking lame."

Whether a preppy, punk rocker, jock, straightedge, cheerleader, stoner, or something else, high school, Brian discovers, is all about belonging.

Hairstyles of the Damned is a must read for parents, teachers, and all those graduated from highschool in the last twenty years.

Boss Tweed and Tammany Hall

Kenneth Ackerman, a praticing attorney in New York City, has written a new biography of the country's most notorious corrupt politician, Boss Tweed: The Rise and Fall of the Corrupt Pol who Conceived the Soul of Modern New York. This fair and honest biography neither romanticizes nor condemns Tweed, but rather, in an eminently readable style, it simply tells the story.

Tweed made his mark and began his meteoric rise to power in the 1863 Civil War draft riots. While others cowered or silently acquiesced to the violence, Tweed used his influence to calm the city. Within five years of patronage and petty graft, William Tweed had soldified his power, rising to the position of Chief Sachem of Tammany Hall, New York State Senator, and Commissioner of Public Works for the City of New York. After pushing a new city charter through the state legislature, Tweed began to fleece the city on a scale unprecedented in the annals of American history.

Though the total amount will never be known, the Tweed Ring filched between $20 - 45 million (multiply by 20 for current dollar amounts), though some later estimated the total at $200 million. What made Tweed different from corrupt pols prior or since, besides the grand scale, was that the city of New York greatly benefitted in the process. The Tweed government led to the paving of roads, laying of sidewalks, running water, and tremendous building, including the court house that informally bares Tweed's name to this day. All this was done without raising taxes but through debt financing, the selling of bonds, particularly in Europe. In fact, it was the financial hanky panky that finally ended Tweed's reign.

Tweed's financial downfall was precipitated by a year long campaign by two newspapers and two men, the New York Times' founder George Jones and Harper's Weekly's lead illustrator Thomas Nast. It was their struggle to undermind Tweed that finally led an disloyal insider to leak the financial statements that brought an end to the corruption. In some ways, Jones and Nast transformed American journalism from a heavily partisan mouthpiece into the public watchdog that it is today.

After a failed escape to Cuba and Spain, Tweed finally agreed to tell his side of the story in a final bid to return home. Cheated by the prosecutors who sought to extract public vengence from at least someone, Tweed would die a broken man in prison, deserted by his family as well as all those who had once been friends, colleagues, and co-conspirators. Ultimately, Boss Tweed would not be forgotten though. In his own time, thousands of former constituents would attend Tweed's funeral while today every American student learns the name of Boss Tweed.

Kenneth Ackerman has done Tweed and history a great service. Boss Tweed is must read for every New Yorker, every would be politician, and anyone who loves a good story.

The Revival of Sweeney Todd

The blackest of black comedy, Stephen Soundheim's Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street is back on Broadway poised to win multiple Tonys. This exciting new production from John Doyle originated in London and features a single, sparse set sans barber chair. The audience is thrilled from beginning to end by this macbre story of Victorian murder and canabalism, laughing all the time.

The orchestra is also the cast, led by veteran Tony award winners Patti LuPone (who plays tuba) and Michael Cerveris (on guitar). Choosing accomplished musicians who are forced to play the entire complicated score from memory raises the level of musicality, keeping everyone focused from the opening bars to the final reprise. Lupone and Cerveris are joined by an incredibly talented cast, including Lauren Molina as Johanna and Benjamin Magnuson as Anthony, both in their Broadway debuts. Manoel Felciano as Tobias, the young narrator of the story, is poignantly innocent.

Patti LuPone perfects the guttersnipe Mrs. Lovett, selling the worst pies in London, while the vengeful Sweeney Todd is brought to life by Michael Cerveris who is truly terrifying. When they close the first act singing "A Little Priest" together, they are in perfect manic harmony. As the story continues in the second act, Sweeney Todd is more consumed with revenge against the judge who ruined his life and stole his daughter while Mrs. Lovett falls deeper in love with the demon barber, wanting only to retire to the country. As the body count increases, circumstances spin wildly out of control (as if they were ever under control).

Sweeney Todd is a ghastly delight that no Broadway fan should miss.

The Vampire Lestat on Broadway

The new Broadway musical Lestat has all the requisite pieces--a sweeping Elton John score, a mountain of poignant source materials, an innovative set and lighting design, and an incredibly talented cast--yet the show is lifeless, and not in a good, I'm going to live forever sort of way.

To be fair, the show's premiere is not until next week, and the creative team is working feverishly to pull all the commensurate parts into the stunning show it should be. Indeed, there is much to be praised about Lestat.

In this small but talent-deep cast, two stars stand head and shoulders above the others in their performances: Carolee Carmello as Gabrielle and Allison Fischer as Claudia. Both combine vocal power and control with convincing character portrayals. It helps that their songs are some of the best in the show. "Crimson Kiss" sung by Gabrielle and Claudia's "I Want More" are absolute show stoppers. Hugo Panaro who plays Lestat has an amazing voice which he uses to great effect in "Sail Away" but Panaro never captures the essence of his character. (More on that later.)

The company also comes together impressively in their ensemble performances. The avant-garde Theatres of the Vampires scene is pitch perfect, and "Welcome to the New World," which musically opens the second act, is the closest the show comes to grand spectacle Broadway patrons adore. The foot stomping beats and swinging dance sequences feel like the show has finally shifted into high gear, only to down shift again soon after.

Lestat receives high marks for Derek McLane's set and Kenneth Posner's lighting. These veterans of such shows as I Am My Own Wife, Holiday, Wicked, and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels have captured the gothic darkness and delitescent glory of the vampires.

The show's problems, I think, all devolve from Linda Woolverton's book. Originally, Lestat was to encompass the three first books from The Vampire Chronicles--Interview with the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and Queen of the Damned. After the San Francisco run, Queen of the Damned was dropped entirely, paring down the show considerably. For Rice neophytes, Woolverton never makes them care about this guy who escapes his tyrannical father only to lose his life to a maniacal vampire. Broadway's Lestat is never as compelling a personality as that captured by Anne Rice's pen.

Ultimately, Lestat never comes together. It lacks a soul, and that is the tragedy. For Anne Rice fans, it is a treat to be savored while it lasts, but I can't imagine that without serious revision many of the uninitiated masses will come to peer in on the world I have come to consider my literary home, that of Anne Rice's vampires.

Neil Simon's Barefoot in the Park

Imagine being on a Broadway stage for almost three minutes, alone, with not a word to say; now, glue newspaper to your feet and try to walk. This was the task set before Amanda Peet in her Broadway debut at the Cort Theatre in Neil Simon's Barefoot in the Park. She handled it with aplomb. In fact, on stage she is the bubbly and vivacious newlywed, Corie Bratter, a part it seems Neil Simon unknowingly wrote for the Syriana star. Though some of the early lines were shouted at the other players, Peet hits her stride and proves she has the gavitas for live theatre that some say Julia Roberts is lacking in her concurrent debut in "Three Days of Rain."

Opposite Peet is Patrick Wilson who proves himself to be the consummate Broadway professional in his portrayal of Paul Bratter. As the stuffed shirt fuddy-duddy (one wonders if he is really that anal), his caustic commentary drives the humor of Simon's crazy love story. Through it all, one never doubts his love for his new wife Corie, a love he proves by walking in the park barefoot, in the middle of winter. Do NOT be surprised if he receives a third Tony nomination for this performance!

Rounding out the ensemble are veteran stars Jill Clayburgh as Corie's mother Mrs. Banks and Tony Roberts as Victor Velasco. Between them, they have a pair of nominations from Tony, Oscar, and Emmy, and they prove in this production that they are worth every one of them. This is Roberts second time starring in Barefoot. He played Paul Bratter in the original production, replacing Robert Redford.

Though the cast is marvelous, the last word must go to Neil Simon. It was Barefoot in the Park, in 1963, that first propelled Simon to infamy as Broadway's (and maybe America's) greatest writer. Though he would go on to write such luminary pieces as The Odd Couple, Biloxi Blues, and Brighton Beach Memoirs, Barefoot has it all--tight writing, poignant emotions, and hysterical one-liners. Every Broadway fan owes a debt of gratitude to Mr. Simon because no one else makes us laugh and cry like he does.

The Rug Merchant

Meg Mullins' debut novel, The Rug Merchant, tells the story of an Iranian, Ushman Khan, living in New York City, selling the magnificent Persian rugs that his family have created for generations. Though his business is successful, Ushman is not. His wife, who remained in Iran to care for his mother, divorces him, claiming abandonment. " He tells his own story, succinctly and with an underlying emotion that draws the reader into the Ushman's own life:

"And she sent me here, to America, three years ago, after a terrible earthquake, when we lost many precious things[...]I havent seen her since, but will receive word, someday soon, that she has had a baby[...]And, because I often don't know what else todo with myself, I come here and wait, like I have tonight. I stand right where I have imagined so many times to have stood so that my wife would come to me. Would walk off the plane and find her place by my side. But she never did. And she never will. And though I miss many things about my country, I will not go back beause to do so would only leave the most important thing still missing. To go home only to have that one thing gone....I don't think I could."

While telling his story, Ushman is at JFK airport in queens, where he meets Stella, a Barnard student, a fellow immigrant to NYC, one from the South. Though separated by many years and insurmountable cultural barriers, they begin an unlikely affair that last through the fall semester. In it, Ushman learns about himself, Stella, America, and ultimately life itself. The liaison is complicated by Ushman's best client, Mrs. Roberts, whose own muddled interactions with Ushman Stella sees as an impediment to her loving Ushman.

Mullins description of the affair captures the poignancy of love in all its heartbreaking beauty. Her observations of the Ushman's double life is the tale of every American immigrant, trying to hold onto the past while embracing the future. Is it possible? Only with tears and a little bit of sorrow that might just be transformed into happiness.

Ballroom Meets Hip Hop

One could say that Take the Lead is formulaic, predictable, and unoriginal. All of this is true, but it is entertaining. As with all classic teen movies (yes, even though this is about ballroom dancing, this is a teen movie), the viewer is invited into the angst ridden world of adolescence only to witness the protagonists overcome all that stands in their way, if only for a moment.

After witness an angry student assaulting a Cadilac with a nine iron, Pierre Dulaine (Antonio Banderas) offers to teach ballroom dance to a group of students who have been consigned to perpetual detention. Each of the students has their own sad story (only two of which are explored), and ballroom dancing is the last thing they want. Dulaine captures their attention, teaching them life lessons such as respect, hope, and hardwork. The movie reaches its climax with a city-wide competition where these unlikely competitors impress everyone, including themselves.

Take the Lead is filled with pithy sagacity which at best is trite. Luckily, the film is not entirely mired in such banality; writer Dianne Houston fulfills her quota for chessiness, but never really goews overboard. There are some funny lines which buoy the plot between some touching moments of adolescent wonder.

What really makes this movie interesting is the fact that it is loosely based in reality. Pierre Dulaine really did teach ballroom dancing in the New York public schools (though not to high school students). More than 12,000 students have learned to wlatz, tango, rumba, foxtrot, and merengue do to the efforts of Mssr. Dulaine.

So, who should see this movie? Fans of Antonio Banderas (there is a tango sequence that can only be described as steaming), the Verve Remix collection, and teen movies will certainly get their money's worth. Those who really love ballroom (and want to laugh) will be better served by Baz Lurman's 1992 sleeper hit Strictly Ballroom.

The Dan'l Webster Inn

So last Friday I was on Cape Cod. I'm hungry; it's Lent, which means no meat, and I know only one restaurant, The Dan'l Webster Inn. Problem is, I have no idea where the Inn is, and in truth, I have no idea whether it is really any good. I simply cam across it in a google search of the Cape. Well, when I turned off the highway to fill up the car, I was greeted by the sight of The Dan'l Webster. This was providence, so I pulled in and made my way to the maitre d'.

First the room. I quickly learned that this is not your ordinary clambake Cape restaurant. A glassed in solarium, called the Conservatory, serves as the main dining room. I can only imagine that it is perfectly cozy with morning sunlight filtering in on a cold winter's day. All the tables are set with proper white linen and the comfortable upholstered chairs seem made for a long, luxurious dining experience.

The wine list is substantial with an array of choices from all over the world. There is something for every price range too, whether it is a $22 bottle of Pinto Grigio or a more substantial Brunello di Montalcino. For those who like to sample, the Inn offers wines by the glass in either three or six ounce glasses. Feel free to have a different wine with every course without worry about becoming so inebriated you can't taste the delicacies the chef has prepared. Rightfully so did Wine Spectator award the Inn its coveted Best of Award of Excellence.

As good as the wine list is, though, it is the food that should have everyone raving. I began with the Cape Cod Lobster Chowder which was filled with chunks of fresh lobster and frangranced with a winning combination of spices. I ordered the roasted beet salad with Vermont goat cheese, but I never did tast it. My waitress completely forgot, until I reminded her when she served my entree. As it turns out, it would have been way too much food.

The cocoa-dusted bay scallops served over orzo with fiddleheads was completely unique. The flavors were balanced and delicate like the flesh of the perfectly seared scallops. The fiddleheads with a touch of lavender added a seasonal blast of spring to the meal. Finally, a cocoanut chocolate bread pudding closed the meal.

In all, it was as near to perfect as one can get. To think that this was a restaurant on the Cape and not in Boston or New York made it even better.

A classic...

A Franciscan and a Jesuit are talking when a man comes up to them.

"Father, could you pray a novena so I can get a Lexus?"

The Franciscan frowns and asks: "What's a Lexus?"

The Jesuit asks: "What's a novena?"