My Love-Hate Relationship with Rent

There are a lot of things I hate to love (Starbucks coffee, Center Stage, and Lucky magazine come to mind) and that I love to hate (Twilight, Sweet Valley High, Legally Blonde the Musical, feta cheese... the list is long). However, one thing that goes both ways is Rent, Jonathan Larson's magnum opus rock opera based off of La Boheme. While there is a great deal that I like about the musical, there is also a lot that bothers me whenever I take the time to really think about it. Here is my take on Rent:

What Works

• A lot of the music is good and some of the songs are fantastic. "What You Own," "Seasons of Love," and "Finale B" are perhaps three of the most successful numbers, and they not only encapsulate what is going on in the play but they also work on their own. Even though "Seasons of Love" can get be very saccharine and was overplayed there for a while, its main lyrics are particularly strong.
• The carefree spirit of the play (which isn't quite apparent in the movie version) is infectious and makes a great contrast with the carefully staged shows that have become common on Broadway. It is the anti-Disney and the anti-Andrew Lloyd Webber show (and I mean that in the best way possible).
• In regards to being a show that supposedly "defines a generation" and speaks for the angst of a particular generation, it is far, far superior to Spring Awakening. While both musicals are period pieces, Rent just feels more genuine when compared to SA's formal, 19th-century dialogue and raunchy rock numbers. Also, while Larson had a great respect for Broadway (and was an admirer of Stephen Sondheim), the creators of SA seemed more than a little holier-than-thou in regards to their view of musical theatre.
  
• The show's policy to sell $20 premium tickets the day of the show was a great way to introduce theatre to a new generation and to let the people who the show was about get a front-row seat to it.

What Doesn't Work (At Least for Me)

• Yes, a lot of the music is good. However, since it is a rock opera and mostly sung-through, some of the songs are less than successful. Also, the show tends to have one volume (loud). When I saw it on Broadway, I was seated under a speaker and couldn't hear for the rest of the night.
• There are holes in the plot that you could drive a truck through. Although this is part of the show's appeal (Larson died before seeing his show open and become a cultural phenomenon), I can't help but wonder why no one connected to the show realized that some characters, such as Benny, just seem to disappear and reappear at will.
  
• This show has one of the most dislikable cast of characters ever assembled on stage. While the original cast of actors was (and still is) very talented, the characters are so incredibly unsympathetic that I have always had a hard time connecting with them. Maureen is self-absorbed and unfaithful, Tom decides that hot wiring an ATM is better attempting to teach his students, Mimi doesn't really seem to have any sort of revelation that her behavior is dangerous (and is rather predatory to boot), and Roger is a pill beyond comparison (read Mrs. Giggles's awesome review of the film version to get an idea of why I hate Roger). Even though Angel is sympathetic, he is made into such a martyr figure that he is more of a symbol than a true character.
  
• Overall, the show seems hypocritical. Though these characters espouse the idea of acceptance, they really don't seem all that accepting. While they lionize people like them (who squat in buildings, leech electricity and whine about how poor they are while not putting forth any real effort to find and hold a job), they are awfully judgmental towards people who attempt to act responsibly. Benny, who is the play's supposed villain because he has sold out and turned his back on the bohemian lifestyle, doesn't anger me nearly as much as the other characters. While he sometimes is a jerk, he also pays for Angel's funeral, thus proving that having a real job that makes real money can come in handy in some situations. Of course, the other characters don't thank him for his gesture and make a rather disparaging remark about how nice it must be to have money.
  
• The show's main idea, that it is acceptable and even admirable to be completely irresponsible as long as you are doing it in the name of "art" and are not selling out by (gasp!) getting a job doing something you don't like, angers me to no end. I appreciate art and the struggles that people have to endure in order to create art. However, I don't see it as an excuse for not being responsible and contributing to society in a positive way. I know sound like an old fogey, but even as a teenager (the show came out when I was in high school), I never understood why these characters couldn't get jobs and do their art in their off hours, like most people do (incidentally, Jonathan Larson worked at a diner before he got the funding that would allow him to concentrate on writing).
  
• Although not nearly as bad as the atrocity that is the film version of A Chorus Line, the movie version of Rent is a veritable cornucopia of bad decisions. From allowing Chris Columbus (who directed the first two Home Alone movies and Adventures in Babysitting) to be at the helm to the fact that the film version came about 10 years too late for the original Broadway cast (most of whom were in the film) to be believable as starving artists, a lot of mistakes were made. However, the one that annoys me the most is Columbus's decision to change his original ending (which only proves how wrong he was for this particular film).
  

I know that my pro/con list is rather imbalanced. As you can tell, I have major issues with some of the underlying themes. Nevertheless, I can appreciate it for what it is and I can even forgive it for bringing the rock opera back to the Broadway stage. However, I still refuse to accept the fact that Roger is all that and a stack of pancakes - trust me Mimi, "Your Eyes" is NOT worth coming back from the dead for. "One Song Glory," Roger's song about his desire to write a great song, is ironically the superior song. However, given Roger's self-absorption, perhaps none of us should be surprised that his best song is about himself. Shut up Roger!

A New Day in America

Yesterday marked the end of a long election season. However, it also marked a milestone in the United States' brief history, and it signals the possible beginning of a new and brighter chapter for the country.

Congratulations Mr. Obama.

Book Reviews: Gastronaut

In my mind, there is a cookbook spectrum. On one end are the uber-practical books that most people have and that you refer to when you need to figure out how to make the basics. From The Joy of Cooking to Mark Bittman's awesome How to Cook Anything (which was just updated) to the ubiquitous Better Homes and Gardens books, these tomes hold a great deal of information on how to actually prepare a meal and are the sorts of books you get when you graduate from high school and college and must start fending for yourself. On the other end of the spectrum are the fun, fancifully written cookbooks that are often a bit impractical. These are the books that you read for entertainment while shaking your head and wondering how the hell you are supposed to make some of the recipes included. Examples of these include Andy Warhol's Wild Raspberries and Helen Gurley Brown's The Single Girl's Cookbook, which includes instructions involving asbestos mats. They are funny and a great read, but you would never grab one when preparing to cook Thanksgiving dinner.

Stefan Gates's Gastronaut: Adventures in Food for the Romantic, the Foolhardy, and the Brave falls somewhere between these two extremes. A self-described "epicurean desperado," Gates's book describes some of his more interesting food-related adventures, misadventures, and experiments. Don't let the rather plain cover fool you - this is hysterical, in a very British way (and I mean that as a sincere compliment). For instance, he has a chapter entitled "How to Stage a Bacchanalian Orgy," complete with substitute suggestions for hard-to-find ingredients like dormice. He also has sections on cannibal recipes, foods that are considered aphrodisiacs, and how to cook guinea pigs. His advice includes how to gild Cheetos and sausages with edible gold and what to eat in order to produce the most flatulence.

Balancing out the recipes for head cheese are (comparatively) more practical ones for toffee fondue and tips for creating a biscuit-tin smokery. Even in these sections, Gates is able to interject a great deal of humor and wit. Overall, Gastronaut may not help you prepare a roast turkey for the first time (even though it has a recipe for turducken, which is a turkey stuffed with a chicken that is stuffed with a duck), and it will never be able to replace How to Cook Everything in terms of real-world application. However, if you are looking for a cookbook that is a lot of fun and has a few practical recipes interspersed with some crazy ones, you should definitely check this one out.

People Who Are Overrated, Pop Culture Edition

Sarah Jessica Parker - She seems nice enough, but I honestly don't get the appeal of Sex and the City. Aspiring to be judgmental, needy Carrie, uptight Miranda, prissy Charlotte, or vampy Samantha just seems to be aiming much too low. I also don't see how SJP is a style icon. Sometimes she displays an incredible sense of style; other times, not so much. She's quirky and fun, but I don't think that she's all that.

Oprah - Oh Oprah. I suppose that we should all be grateful that you use your power for relatively good things. However, the fact that a mere mention from you can cause a book to become a bestseller or that you occasionally cause your audience to go into seizures of pleasure by giving them thousands of dollars of merchandise is more than a little scary. Also, as a person who has criticized Americans, specially American children, for being too materialistic, perhaps giving away cars, $800 Camcorders, and $350 Kindles to your audience members is a little hypocritical.

Mitch Albom - Tuesdays with Morrie seemed innocuous enough until it started popping up everywhere. Then came The Five People You Meet in Heaven, which may just be one of the most banal books ever. I've comed to realize that Albom is the literary version of Thomas Kincaid - generically heartwarming, inoffensive, and bland. This leads us to...

Thomas Kincaid - By the word "trite" in the dictionary should be a woodcut picture of Kincaid or at least one of his damn cottages. The fact that he is EVERYWHERE (more so than Mitch Albom or Sarah Jessica Parker) makes him harder to get away from and easier to loathe. From the fact that he calls himself "The Painter of Light" (which is a registered trademark) to the fact that he once urinated on a statue of Winnie-the-Pooh at Disneyland, Kincaid is probably one of the most annoying people ever to invade thousands of homes. However, one great thing that has come from him is that he was thoroughly mocked on an episode of "Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me!" on NPR.

Katherine Heigl - While I usually like people to speak their minds, there is a difference between being honest and being tactless and spiteful. Besides her complete lack of an inner filter, she is a horribly overrated actress. She isn't bad, and she can make the deplorable character of Izzy almost bearable on Grey's Anatomy, but there are certainly more interesting and talented actresses out there.

Anyone on a VH1 or MTV Celeb-Reality Show - The exception to this may be Made. However, there are no words to describe my loathing for the people on The Hills or The Rock of Love. While they are slightly less repellent than the walking STD that is Tila Tequila, this is not saying much.

Book Review: Work Hard. Be Nice.

For years, people have been trying to find the panacea for the achievement gap in American schools. One of the most recent attempts is the Knowledge is Power Program (KIPP), started by Mike Feinberg and Dave Levin, two Teach for America alumni. The KIPP schools, which are now found in several states and serve students from elementary to high school, offer a mixture of strict discipline, energetic chanting and singing, and more time spent in school (the school day is nine and a half hours long and students go to school on alternate Saturdays and in the summer). Jay Mathews’s book Work Hard. Be Nice provides an interesting and approachable if somewhat uneven look at the start of KIPP.

The book's subtitle, “How Two Inspired Teachers Created America’s Best Schools,” leaves little to the imagination when determining Mathews’s opinion on KIPP. However, to Mathews’s credit, his account attempts to present different sides of the KIPP debate. Rather than making the program’s implementation seem easy, Mathews shows the many difficulties, ranging from colleague jealousy to administrative bureaucracy, that come with starting something different. Mathews also does not ignore Feinberg’s and Levin’s many missteps during their early years in teaching for TFA and creating KIPP. Although he portrays some of the anecdotes, such as Feinberg’s decision to have his students call school board members and inquire about the progress made in finding KIPP a new place, as drastic but necessary tactics or eccentric stunts designed to get needed attention, Mathews does not gloss over some of the more obvious errors that Feinberg and Levin commit.

However, the account still poses some problems. Mathews’s view of Feinberg, Levin, and KIPP is tremendously positive. While he does recognize some of the concerns critics of the KIPP schools have, he fails to provide compelling or substantive evidence that supports his rejection of these concerns. For instance, when faced with the contention that the KIPP students’ achievements may be attributed to them having a supportive home life because their parents value education, Mathews argues that the KIPP students do not have a family advantage because the system “puts less, not more, responsibility on parents than regular public schools do” (282) and points to the extended school day and Saturday and summer classes as opportunities for free child care. This line of reasoning neglects the parents’ efforts in getting their children into KIPP schools and assumes that the parents do not rely on their children to bring in an income from after-school work or to help at home by taking care of younger siblings. This failure to look under the surface to get a better understanding of the situation at hand weakens Mathews’s overall argument.

Another limitation with the book is its structure. While it revolves around Feinberg and Levin, Mathews also discusses their relationship with other teachers, such as Ball, and students. These relationships do humanize the two men. However, by interspersing ongoing stories about students with the basically linear narrative of Feinberg and Levin, Mathews sometimes makes it difficult for the reader to fully follow the different threads. While this problem is easily solved by flipping through the book and finding the previous thread to a given account, this solution makes for an occasionally unsatisfying experience.

Overall, Work Hard. Be Nice will probably not sway critics of the KIPP schools. Before starting this review, I had some serious misgivings about the program, and these uncertainties remain even after reading and enjoying this book. Although the KIPP model may not present all of the answers or even be “America’s best schools” as the book’s subtitle claims, Mathews’s account is absorbing and provides an understandable, if somewhat biased, introduction for people who are not familiar with education or KIPP but want to learn more about both topics.

Ron Howard, Andy Griffith, and Henry Winkler Want You to Vote for Obama

Much to my mother's chagrin, I'm an Obama supporter. While I try to keep my political views to myself (at least on my blog), I stumbled across this video as I was working on a paper for class. Ron Howard, Andy Griffith, and Henry Winkler did a fantastic (and really funny) video urging people to vote for Barack Obama. It is completely charming in a retro, Nick at Nite sort of way, but I will let you judge for yourself: click here to go to see the video.

Wretched Adaptations of Good Books: The Classics

I've recently been thinking about the disaster that often happens when good books get made into film. For every success story, there are probably ten utter disasters. Take, for instance, the Demi Moore version of The Scarlet Letter. Perhaps a successful commercial film version of the book was doomed from the start. Hawthorne's use of narrative to show the minute details does not always transfer well to film. However, the nail in the movie's coffin was the attempt to update the plot ti fit appeal to modern American society. Consequently, the intricate story of forgiveness, renewal, and hypocrisy became a romance-adventure with some gratuitous violence, masturbation, and nudity thrown in for good measure. It even has a conventional happy ending, with Hester and Dimmesdale riding off into the sunset with little Pearl. Demi Moore's defense of the changes pretty much consisted of the idea that many people had not read the book. Not only is this not true (the book is on many reading lists for high school English, so people have at least a clue as to the story), it is also a weak defense. Even people who had not read the book could see that the movie was terrible.

Another great misstep in terms of movies and the classics is The Great Gatsby, which as been made into a film four times. Since the story comes from Nick's point of view, translating that into film is a daunting task, and the various film versions of Gatsby suggest that it is impossible. One of the most famous versions stars Robert Redford and Mia Farrow as the star-crossed Gatsby and Daisy. Although Farrow is convincingly ditsy, Redform seems much too self-assured and suave to be Gatsby. The most recent version aimed on A&E and starred Mira Sorvino as an unusually self-aware version of Daisy and Paul Rudd as an unusually snarky version of Nick. Despite the star power of the films, none of them satisfyingly capture Fitzgerald's tone, wit, or scathing indictment of the American Dream.

Of course, there are countless movie versions of Shakespeare's plays. One particularly awkward attempt that stands out is Kenneth Branaugh's Love's Labours Lost, which he made into a 1940s style musical featuring Alicia Silverston (of Clueless fame) and Matthew Lillard (of Scooby Doo the movie). As the characters flitter about on the sound-stage sets that are supposed to evoke memories of Astaire and Rogers films and perform numbers by Gershwin, Porter, and Berlin, it becomes obvious that most of the cast are out of their element. Alicia Silverstone gives it the old college try but clearly has no clue as to what she is saying, and the singing and dancing are, for the most part, amateurish to the point of being embarrassing. While watching non-singers (aka supposedly regular folk) sing can be charming (see Alan Alda's supremely understated and lovely take on "Looking at You" from Woody Allen's Everyone Says "I Love You" for a successful example), watching people attempt to sing, dance, and interpret Shakespeare while being shaky on all counts is more painful than entertaining.