Determined Women on the Broadway Stage
Reviews and Comments by Ken Burke
I invite you to join me on a regular basis to see how my responses to current cinematic offerings compare to the critical establishment, which I’ll refer to as either the CCAL (Collective Critics at Large) if they’re supportive or the OCCU (Often Cranky Critics Universe) when they go negative. However, due to COVID concerns I’m mostly addressing streaming options with limited visits to theaters, where I don’t think I’ve missed much anyway, though better options may be on the horizon. (Note: Anything in bold blue [some may look near purple] is a link to something more in the review.)
My reviews’ premise: “You can’t please everyone, so you got to please yourself.”
(from "Garden Party" by Rick Nelson and the Stone Canyon Band, 1972 album of the song’s name)
Here’s the trailer:
(Use the full screen button in the image’s lower right to enlarge its size;
activate the same button or use “esc” keyboard key to return to normal.)
If you can abide plot spoilers read on, but this blog’s intended for those who’ve seen the film or want to save some $ (as well as recognizing those readers like me who just aren’t that tech-savvy). To help any of you who want to learn more details yet avoid these all-important plot-reveals I’ll identify any give-away sentences/sentence-clusters with colors plus arrows:
⇒The first and last words will be noted with arrows and red.⇐ OK, now continue on if you prefer.
What Happens: Lillian Hall's (Jessica Lange) a celebrated Broadway actor preparing for a revival of Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard (1904) but forgetting her lines and stage placement, frustrating director David Flemming (Jesse Williams) but terrifying producer Jane Stone (Cindy Hogan), concerned the show will flop if Lillian's not up to standards, investors will back out dooming the production, so she tries to convince David to hire a replacement lead but he refuses, knowing audiences want to see Lillian, not an understudy or a rising star. At home, Lillian’s forgets prior plans such as adult daughter Margaret Tanner (Lily Rabe) coming over for breakfast one morning when Lillian must head off to the theater. Jane does have the authority, though, for insurance purposes, to send Lillian for a medical evaluation where Dr. DeMayo (Keith Arthur Bolden) barely goes along with accepting the mixed results of a simple cognitive test while giving her a memory-aiding-medication (she says it’s for allergies) but later goes over a brain-scan-result with her showing dangerous levels of protein, a clear indication of increasing dementia. Knowing that revealing her situation will result in dismissal from the play she determines to put great effort into overcoming her problems while not revealing them to anyone involved in the production or her many-years-loyal assistant, Edith Wilson (Kathy Bates), or Margaret, with both of them—as well as Jane—furious when they learn the truth after Lillian collapses during a rehearsal, is rushed off to the hospital, Dr. DeMayo admits the reality.
Along the way as the plot unfolds we see Lillian in her high-rise Manhattan apartment balcony chatting with artist-neighbor Ty Maynard (Pierce Brosnan), conversations often interrupted by a woman at his door ready for an arranged night in the sack. We also get periodic black & white imagery from a documentary being shot about Lillian as we see her being interviewed, then at times comments from other characters, but this isn’t a major element of our larger film except toward the beginning when she talks of a career based in creating illusions which are believed and near the end when she says she got little love and attention from her parents so one day on a boating excursion she jumped into the water (hit by the boat, lots of blood)—explaining that she just wanted to “be seen,” a desire answered by her work on stage (even though it meant she was at the theater most nights rather than being home with her own daughter, who also got minimum attention from her father, Carson [Michael Rose], a director, busy with his own career, including directing Lillian in several plays—we also gradually realize he died sometime ago, leaving a great void in Lillian’s life).
Prior to her stumble in rehearsal the dropped lines continue, leading Lillian to be upset with herself, snappy with others. She arranges to meet Margaret, her husband George (Jonathan Horne), and teenage daughter Finn (Tenz McCall) at a restaurant but still doesn’t acknowledge her growing problems, even as Jane cancels the usual previews of the play (claiming “technical issues with the set”), afraid Lillian will mess up, allowing critics and audiences to see she’s not ready to take the lead this time. Lillian also starts having hallucinations, with brief appearances by Carson, even as Edith knows what the new meds are for, given she had to suffer through her father’s dementia. Concerned about Lillian, David shows up unannounced at her apartment, but she suggests they drive to Margaret’s home somewhat away from the city where they stay for dinner, David privately talking with Margaret who claims she was never emotionally-harmed by the constant absence of her parents (yet, she takes another direction at the hospital, essentially telling Mom she’s through with her). When Lillian returns to her home she finds Edith upset about not knowing where she was for those hours, but she also has a solution for Lillian’s line-dropping with some little ear buds allowing someone backstage to feed her lines from a microphone. ⇒Lillian continues to stumble through rehearsals, has her fall after seeing Carson again, where Dr. DeMayo spills the beans to Edith and Margaret, tells them she shouldn’t do the play, but Lillian insists, mentally steels herself into more-productive-rehearsals; then on opening night she walks to the theatre as is her usual ritual but sees Carson, goes into a park to talk with him on a bench. Meanwhile, at the theatre Jane gets the understudy ready to perform but makes no announcement of such to the large audience. Edith finds Lillian in the park, says it’s time “to go home,” but that means the theatre where she steps in front of the understudy just before her first entrance, has a marvelous night in the role (with Edith’s help on the earbuds), gets great audience fanfare, after the show seems to be once again with Carson.⇐
So What? This narrative’s loosely based on the career of Marian Seldes (1928-2014), a very successful actor on stage, in film, and on TV, winning the 1967 Tony Award for Best Featured Actress in a Play for A Delicate Balance (1966), who had a husband die on her in 1999 after she divorced the previous one in 1961, had one child (a daughter, by her abusive first husband), seemingly (not officially) died of dementia. I know nothing directly of her career, but I must have seen her in The Greatest Story Ever Told (George Stevens, 1965), as well as, potentially, individual episodes of Gunsmoke (1956), Have Gun Will Travel (1957, 1958), Perry Mason (1958), The Rifleman (1960), Murder, She Wrote (1992), Cosby (1996, 1998), or Frasier (2004). She must have been a fine actor, given all the stage awards she won or was nominated for (including 4 more Tony noms), plus a Tony Lifetime Achievement Award in 2010. On the other hand, I’ve seen Jessica Lange quite a bit and know she’s been nominated for 6 Oscars either as Best Actress in a Leading Role (won for Blue Sky [Tony Richardson, 1994]) or Best Actress in a Supporting Role (won for Tootsie [Sydney Pollock, 1982]—in a way she was slightly competing with herself that year, also nominated for Leading Actress for Frances [Graeme Clifford, 1982], though she had no chance for that one competing with Meryl Streep in Sophie’s Choice [Alan J. Pakula, 1982]), with her superb talent showcased here in a manner so effective that just watching her total command of the fictional Lillian Hall character's grief is worth seeing this film even if you care little about the world of theatre or might find it difficult from personal experience to view someone roaming into the fog of dementia.
While there are a few aspects of this story that don’t engage me all that much (primarily the inserted documentary scenes which I don’t see the need for, as Lillian’s self-revelations could just as easily be conveyed in dialogue with neighbor Ty), I must admit Lange’s outstanding performance pulls the film up to my 4 stars level (just as Cate Blanchett’s Best Actress Oscar-winning performance in Blue Jasmine [Woody Allen, 2013; review in our August 16, 2013 posting] also brought that film up to 4 stars, because it was such a dominating experience) as one of the best I’ve ever seen from her in a long, successful career. As Lillian regains command of The Cherry Orchard I get the sense that some of the lines from the play that make it into this film are pointed commentaries on events in Lillian’s off-stage life, but as I know nothing more about ... Orchard than what's in its summary I can’t comment any further but encourage those more familiar with Chekhov than I am to gain whatever further insights you’ll find here as Lillian’s role as Lyubov Andreyena Ranevskaya, a Russian aristocrat whose life faces challenging changes as her ancestral home (with its famous cherry orchard) must be sold to pay off huge debts (with the orchard being chopped down in the process), becomes similar to how Lillian must face the challenge of her increasing dementia promising to undo all that her life has been focused on up until now. Even without knowing the deeper context of Lillian’s role and how it reflects her personal reality, I still find this film to be a stunning experience to watch given how Lange passionately portrays such an astounding range of emotions and reactions.
Bottom Line Final Comments: Had I not been made aware of this film by a suggestion from my insightful wife, Nina, who saw a blurb about it in an issue of The Week magazine, I wouldn’t have even heard about it, so I doubt it’s been much of a part of general media awareness as well. If you’re an HBO subscriber you might have noticed it in recent listings (it was just cablecast there again recently), but if you want to have easy access to it you’ll need to tune in to HBO’s streaming platform, Max. You’ll find the CCAL in support of seeking it out (even if you have to pay $10 for a month’s membership [with ads, $16 without]), with the Rotten Tomatoes positive reviews at a solid 93% (although based on only 14 evaluations, with no link to the usual list of those reviews) while the usually-more-restrained Metacritic average score is 78% (however, based on a mere 5 reviews). In that you’re not going to find much to help you make your own decision about watching this film, I’ll give you a couple of quotes where I can find them to offer a bit more understanding of what’s going on here. Caryn James of The Hollywood Reporter says: “Despite that ominous theme, The Great Lillian Hall is a lovely tribute to life in the theater, with all its personal compromises, and a showcase for Lange, who deftly shows the character as a vulnerable woman and also displays the distinct style of Lillian the bravura actress. […] A scene in which Lillian and her daughter sing ‘Mockingbird’ together, remembering the song as a lullaby from Margaret’s childhood, really does seem calculated to milk the emotions, and lands as inauthentic. But it’s also surprising that such easy sentimentality is relatively rare here.” So, yes, ... Hall isn't all perfect, but it mostly comes close.
Then we have Randy Myers of The (San Jose, CA) Mercury News (a local publication for me, so I’m embarrassed I missed/overlooked his review; scroll down in this link for his comments on ... Lillian Hall): “Anyone who doubts that Jessica Lange remains one of our greatest living actors should catch this HBO drama — those doubts will perish. […] Written with sensitivity by Elisabeth Seldes Annacone, and well-directed by Michael Cristofer, ‘Lillian Hall’ hands Lange another opportunity for an acting tour de force, with a somber story about the sacrifices we make to appease our own need for acceptance.” I join those who encourage you to watch this fine film but now will leave you with my standard end-of-review trope, the Musical Metaphor, which in this case will be The Band’s “Stage Fright” (on their 1970 album named for the song) at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vkv7 nNL7M3k with its appropriate lyrics: “See the [wo]man with the stage fright / Just standin’ up there to give it all [her] might / And [s]he got caught in the spotlight / But when we get to the end/ [S]he wants to start all over again […] And the doctor warned me I might catch a death / He said ‘You can make it in your disguise / Just never show the fear that’s in your eyes’ […] Let [her] take it from the top” (this clip’s from the group’s last public performance, documented by Martin Scorsese in The Last Waltz, 1978). Lillian Hall stands up (as best she can) to her stage fright in this memorable performance by a superb actor who commands the role in a manner that I truly believe would make Chekhov proud.
SHORT TAKES
Funny Girl (William Wyler, 1968) rated G 151 min.
Here’s the trailer:
Normally, I don’t write about films that are decades old (and G rated at that)—as they’ve been in the cultural mix for years, have been written about by so many others—nor do I usually review oldies that would earn my top 5 stars-rating unless they’re in some sort of re-release mode; however, my marvelous wife, Nina, is currently reading Barbra Streisand’s autobiography, My Name Is Barbra (2023), has just gotten to the part where this talented superstar is involved with her film debut in Funny Girl (which resulted in a well-deserved Best Actress Oscar—along with 7 other Oscar noms for the film [although Streisand had to share hers with an equally-impactful performance from Katharine Hepburn in The Lion in Winter {Anthony Harvey, 1968}, so far the only tie in this Oscar category]); Nina wanted to watch it again, which we did (you can find it for free in streaming via Amazon Prime Video or for $3.99 cheap rental from Apple TV+) last weekend, so I decided to give it a mention here due to how marvelously-well Streisand carries her film—just as Jessica Lange does with … Lillian Hall—and to go on the record about how well this musical meets its intentions with marvelous acting/singing by Streisand after mastering the role on Broadway starting in 1964, then London in 1966 (saw her in person a few years ago, she’s still got great command of those pipes) and direction by Hollywood legend Wyler (3 directing Oscars, for Mrs. Miniver [1942], The Best Years of Our Lives [1946], Ben-Hur [1959], 9 other noms [I even got to briefly interview him once many years ago]). If you want to revisit Funny Girl’s plot-specifics you can go here, while noting it’s got solid CCAL support with RT positives at 94%, MC average score at (a quite high for them) 88%.
If you don’t know this film, it’s a biography of early 20th-century stage phenomenon with the Ziegfeld Follies, Fanny Brice, how she came from a nowhere background in NYC to reign as a superstar, then hit the rocks in marriage to playboy gambler Nicky Arnstein (Omar Sharif, who found this film banned in his native Egypt, other Arab countries, because he played a Jew on screen and kissed a Jewish woman [so don’t think the current hostilities in all directions between Israelis and Palestinians is something anywhere close to new]), which leads me to my closing Musical Metaphor, “My Man” (written in 1920 in France by Maurice Yvain, Albert Willemetz, and Jacques Mardochée Charles, made popular in the U.S. in the 1920s by Fanny Brice and others; on the film’s 1968 soundtrack album and Streisand’s 1965 My Name Is Barbra album) at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9r7coI37KYU, the film’s finale, which I think best captures the dilemma of Fanny’s fame that made her difficult to equate with, even for such a player as Nicky who just couldn’t keep up the competition any longer; I know Barbra’s big hit song, "People" (1964 album of the same name) might seem a more-likely choice here, given it’s focus on Fanny’s interpersonal-philosophy of “People who need people / Are the luckiest people in the world,” but I think the personal heartbreak of “All my life is just despair but I don’t care […] For whatever my man is, I am his / Forever more“ as famous Fanny’s left alone (just like in that previous clip with Nicky) is ultimately what this Modern Musical’s all about, even though Fanny successfully carries on in (critically-distained) Funny Lady (Herbert Ross, 1975), at least until her marriage to Billy Rose (James Caan) hits those rocks again.
Related Links Which You Might Find Interesting:
Some options for your informed consideration regarding various aspects of the vast movie industry: (1) Inside Out 2 now 2024's highest-grossing movie with a global haul of $724 million to date; (2) Remembering Donald Sutherland; (3) Nielsen's tally of various recent Top 10 streamers; (4) Current releases available for streaming: (5) 2024 Box-Office winners and losers (so far).
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