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a day ago
- Entertainment
- The Advertiser
Lange, Brosnan, Bates: performances like these never get old
This is one of those movies that gets described as a love letter to the theatre. For those of us who enjoy both art forms and can look past some of the cliches and overdramatic elements, it's well worth seeing. For others, it might not appeal quite so much, but the acting is excellent and it's sometimes funny despite its underlying seriousness. It's a truism that there aren't many good movie parts for older actresses but there are a couple of juicy roles here. At one point Meryl Streep was going to play the title character and I can imagine Glenn Close eyed the role with longing. But Jessica Lange is the star and she's excellent. This film was produced for HBO in the United States but, like an earlier HBO movie, the 2013 Liberace biopic Behind the Candelabra, it's getting a theatrical run here. Lillian is the First Lady of the American Theatre (you can practically hear the capital letters when it's said). She's been in hundreds of plays over a long career, a total pro and a bit of a diva, the kind of grande dame who often seems to be acting as much off stage as on. She's in rehearsals for a Broadway production of The Cherry Orchard, expected to be another triumph. But lately, strange things have been happening. She's been having visions of her late husband Carson (Michael Rose) who was sometimes her director, and worse, she's having more and more trouble remembering people's names - and worse, her lines. Any actor can have a memory lapse but here it's getting to the point where the director, the producer and the other actors are noticing. And the producer, in particular, is getting worried. Will Lillian, the big draw, be up to the demands of the Chekhov play? Should she be replaced? Medical tests reveal a terrible truth: she has a form of dementia. She's shocked and terrified but desperately wants to stay in the play, knowing it will be her last. She also wants to reconcile with her daughter Margaret (Lily Rabe) who was sorely neglected as a result of her parents' careers and wonders why her mother keeps wanting to spend time with her now. But Lillian can't bring herself to tell her daughter the truth and, of course, this does not bode well. Her longtime friend and assistant Edith (Kathy Bates) finds out what's going on sooner than most and, having been through the experience with her husband, is shaken by the thought of facing it again. Bates is excellent in bringing out the mix of good humour, affection, tough love and anguish in the role. The Great Gillian Hall is like a spiritual sequel to the classic backstage movie All About Eve. In that movie, great Broadway star Margot has to accept that she's getting older (40!) and that love can be had as well as a career. Here, Lillian has lost one great love, her husband, and is about to lose another, her career. And, all too soon, there will be more and more losses. There have been other movies dealing with dementia - The Notebook, Still Alice, and The Father among them - so many elements of Elisabeth Seldes Annacone's screenplay are familiar. And I have to say one way to alleviate Lillian's problems seemed painfully obvious: it occurred to me long before someone in the movie thought of it. Director Michael Christof's experience with thrillers (Body Shots, The Night Clerk) helps convey the creepiness as well as the strange comfort of Lillian's hallucinations. Providing some lighter moments is Lillian's flirty, friendly banter with artist Ty (Pierce Brosnan) who lives in the neighbouring apartment. If you're in the mood for a poignant film where the excellent performances are foregrounded, this is well worth a watch. This is one of those movies that gets described as a love letter to the theatre. For those of us who enjoy both art forms and can look past some of the cliches and overdramatic elements, it's well worth seeing. For others, it might not appeal quite so much, but the acting is excellent and it's sometimes funny despite its underlying seriousness. It's a truism that there aren't many good movie parts for older actresses but there are a couple of juicy roles here. At one point Meryl Streep was going to play the title character and I can imagine Glenn Close eyed the role with longing. But Jessica Lange is the star and she's excellent. This film was produced for HBO in the United States but, like an earlier HBO movie, the 2013 Liberace biopic Behind the Candelabra, it's getting a theatrical run here. Lillian is the First Lady of the American Theatre (you can practically hear the capital letters when it's said). She's been in hundreds of plays over a long career, a total pro and a bit of a diva, the kind of grande dame who often seems to be acting as much off stage as on. She's in rehearsals for a Broadway production of The Cherry Orchard, expected to be another triumph. But lately, strange things have been happening. She's been having visions of her late husband Carson (Michael Rose) who was sometimes her director, and worse, she's having more and more trouble remembering people's names - and worse, her lines. Any actor can have a memory lapse but here it's getting to the point where the director, the producer and the other actors are noticing. And the producer, in particular, is getting worried. Will Lillian, the big draw, be up to the demands of the Chekhov play? Should she be replaced? Medical tests reveal a terrible truth: she has a form of dementia. She's shocked and terrified but desperately wants to stay in the play, knowing it will be her last. She also wants to reconcile with her daughter Margaret (Lily Rabe) who was sorely neglected as a result of her parents' careers and wonders why her mother keeps wanting to spend time with her now. But Lillian can't bring herself to tell her daughter the truth and, of course, this does not bode well. Her longtime friend and assistant Edith (Kathy Bates) finds out what's going on sooner than most and, having been through the experience with her husband, is shaken by the thought of facing it again. Bates is excellent in bringing out the mix of good humour, affection, tough love and anguish in the role. The Great Gillian Hall is like a spiritual sequel to the classic backstage movie All About Eve. In that movie, great Broadway star Margot has to accept that she's getting older (40!) and that love can be had as well as a career. Here, Lillian has lost one great love, her husband, and is about to lose another, her career. And, all too soon, there will be more and more losses. There have been other movies dealing with dementia - The Notebook, Still Alice, and The Father among them - so many elements of Elisabeth Seldes Annacone's screenplay are familiar. And I have to say one way to alleviate Lillian's problems seemed painfully obvious: it occurred to me long before someone in the movie thought of it. Director Michael Christof's experience with thrillers (Body Shots, The Night Clerk) helps convey the creepiness as well as the strange comfort of Lillian's hallucinations. Providing some lighter moments is Lillian's flirty, friendly banter with artist Ty (Pierce Brosnan) who lives in the neighbouring apartment. If you're in the mood for a poignant film where the excellent performances are foregrounded, this is well worth a watch. This is one of those movies that gets described as a love letter to the theatre. For those of us who enjoy both art forms and can look past some of the cliches and overdramatic elements, it's well worth seeing. For others, it might not appeal quite so much, but the acting is excellent and it's sometimes funny despite its underlying seriousness. It's a truism that there aren't many good movie parts for older actresses but there are a couple of juicy roles here. At one point Meryl Streep was going to play the title character and I can imagine Glenn Close eyed the role with longing. But Jessica Lange is the star and she's excellent. This film was produced for HBO in the United States but, like an earlier HBO movie, the 2013 Liberace biopic Behind the Candelabra, it's getting a theatrical run here. Lillian is the First Lady of the American Theatre (you can practically hear the capital letters when it's said). She's been in hundreds of plays over a long career, a total pro and a bit of a diva, the kind of grande dame who often seems to be acting as much off stage as on. She's in rehearsals for a Broadway production of The Cherry Orchard, expected to be another triumph. But lately, strange things have been happening. She's been having visions of her late husband Carson (Michael Rose) who was sometimes her director, and worse, she's having more and more trouble remembering people's names - and worse, her lines. Any actor can have a memory lapse but here it's getting to the point where the director, the producer and the other actors are noticing. And the producer, in particular, is getting worried. Will Lillian, the big draw, be up to the demands of the Chekhov play? Should she be replaced? Medical tests reveal a terrible truth: she has a form of dementia. She's shocked and terrified but desperately wants to stay in the play, knowing it will be her last. She also wants to reconcile with her daughter Margaret (Lily Rabe) who was sorely neglected as a result of her parents' careers and wonders why her mother keeps wanting to spend time with her now. But Lillian can't bring herself to tell her daughter the truth and, of course, this does not bode well. Her longtime friend and assistant Edith (Kathy Bates) finds out what's going on sooner than most and, having been through the experience with her husband, is shaken by the thought of facing it again. Bates is excellent in bringing out the mix of good humour, affection, tough love and anguish in the role. The Great Gillian Hall is like a spiritual sequel to the classic backstage movie All About Eve. In that movie, great Broadway star Margot has to accept that she's getting older (40!) and that love can be had as well as a career. Here, Lillian has lost one great love, her husband, and is about to lose another, her career. And, all too soon, there will be more and more losses. There have been other movies dealing with dementia - The Notebook, Still Alice, and The Father among them - so many elements of Elisabeth Seldes Annacone's screenplay are familiar. And I have to say one way to alleviate Lillian's problems seemed painfully obvious: it occurred to me long before someone in the movie thought of it. Director Michael Christof's experience with thrillers (Body Shots, The Night Clerk) helps convey the creepiness as well as the strange comfort of Lillian's hallucinations. Providing some lighter moments is Lillian's flirty, friendly banter with artist Ty (Pierce Brosnan) who lives in the neighbouring apartment. If you're in the mood for a poignant film where the excellent performances are foregrounded, this is well worth a watch. This is one of those movies that gets described as a love letter to the theatre. For those of us who enjoy both art forms and can look past some of the cliches and overdramatic elements, it's well worth seeing. For others, it might not appeal quite so much, but the acting is excellent and it's sometimes funny despite its underlying seriousness. It's a truism that there aren't many good movie parts for older actresses but there are a couple of juicy roles here. At one point Meryl Streep was going to play the title character and I can imagine Glenn Close eyed the role with longing. But Jessica Lange is the star and she's excellent. This film was produced for HBO in the United States but, like an earlier HBO movie, the 2013 Liberace biopic Behind the Candelabra, it's getting a theatrical run here. Lillian is the First Lady of the American Theatre (you can practically hear the capital letters when it's said). She's been in hundreds of plays over a long career, a total pro and a bit of a diva, the kind of grande dame who often seems to be acting as much off stage as on. She's in rehearsals for a Broadway production of The Cherry Orchard, expected to be another triumph. But lately, strange things have been happening. She's been having visions of her late husband Carson (Michael Rose) who was sometimes her director, and worse, she's having more and more trouble remembering people's names - and worse, her lines. Any actor can have a memory lapse but here it's getting to the point where the director, the producer and the other actors are noticing. And the producer, in particular, is getting worried. Will Lillian, the big draw, be up to the demands of the Chekhov play? Should she be replaced? Medical tests reveal a terrible truth: she has a form of dementia. She's shocked and terrified but desperately wants to stay in the play, knowing it will be her last. She also wants to reconcile with her daughter Margaret (Lily Rabe) who was sorely neglected as a result of her parents' careers and wonders why her mother keeps wanting to spend time with her now. But Lillian can't bring herself to tell her daughter the truth and, of course, this does not bode well. Her longtime friend and assistant Edith (Kathy Bates) finds out what's going on sooner than most and, having been through the experience with her husband, is shaken by the thought of facing it again. Bates is excellent in bringing out the mix of good humour, affection, tough love and anguish in the role. The Great Gillian Hall is like a spiritual sequel to the classic backstage movie All About Eve. In that movie, great Broadway star Margot has to accept that she's getting older (40!) and that love can be had as well as a career. Here, Lillian has lost one great love, her husband, and is about to lose another, her career. And, all too soon, there will be more and more losses. There have been other movies dealing with dementia - The Notebook, Still Alice, and The Father among them - so many elements of Elisabeth Seldes Annacone's screenplay are familiar. And I have to say one way to alleviate Lillian's problems seemed painfully obvious: it occurred to me long before someone in the movie thought of it. Director Michael Christof's experience with thrillers (Body Shots, The Night Clerk) helps convey the creepiness as well as the strange comfort of Lillian's hallucinations. Providing some lighter moments is Lillian's flirty, friendly banter with artist Ty (Pierce Brosnan) who lives in the neighbouring apartment. If you're in the mood for a poignant film where the excellent performances are foregrounded, this is well worth a watch.
The Guardian
12-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Streaming: The Last Showgirl and the best Las Vegas films
(There's a reason why film-makers are routinely drawn to the glaring, garish lights of Las Vegas: in its spangliest strips, it feels more movie set than city, the kind of place it's hard to imagine people living everyday lives 24/7. Gia Coppola's The Last Showgirl – streaming on Mubi from 18 April – is quite rare in its focus on one such person: Shelly, a dancer in a long-running revue on the Vegas strip, now pushing 60 and at a crossroads when said revue announces its imminent closure. Short and light on plot, it's a character study built on a poignant night-and-day contrast, as Shelly literally performs a glitzy Vegas dream that all looks a bit shabby by daylight in her modest bungalow in the desert suburbs. Pamela Anderson affectingly brings her own career baggage to the role of someone who takes her art more seriously than anyone takes her, in a film intent on stripping the city of some varnish. It certainly gives Vegas showgirls a better name than, well, Showgirls, Paul Verhoeven's tacky (and, despite the critical mauling it received in 1995, vastly entertaining) tale of a young dancer intent on working her way up a slippery pole – with all manner of exploitative svengalis and sharp-clawed rivals standing between her and her showgirl dream. If she saw Coppola's film, she might not be so keen. Not that any Las Vegas film winds up showing the city in a wholly glowing light. The Ocean's 11 films – whether you prefer the 1960 Rat Pack original, or Steven Soderbergh's trilogy of casino-world escapades – are about as close as you can get to good clean fun in a location literally built on underworld activity, which is to say their various cheery heists mostly amount to crime without consequences. (Soderbergh would get more seamily under the skin of Vegas in his wonderfully rueful, richly detailed Liberace biopic, Behind the Candelabra.) For long stretches of Diamonds Are Forever, meanwhile, Vegas just serves as a gaudier-than-usual backdrop to the usual James Bond derring-do: it suits his interests rather well. You can't think of Vegas without thinking of Elvis, of course, and his 1964 starring vehicle Viva Las Vegas is a romp so bright and bouncy it may as well have been made by the city's tourism board – even the marketing pitched the place as 'the fun capital of the world'. The film itself, co-starring a game Ann-Margret and mixing standard Vegas hedonism with grand prix action, is jaunty nonsense, which puts it at the upper end of the Presley filmography. Baz Luhrmann's whirling, thrilling biopic Elvis (Netflix), however, rather sours the icon's association with the city: behind its feverishly cut Vegas performance montages and eye-popping production design is a sprawling sadness. Flying Elvis impersonators are the signature sight gag of Honeymoon in Vegas, an appealing fizzy, scatty 1992 romcom that might be the most upbeat of all romance-in-Vegas movies: Nicolas Cage and Sarah Jessica Parker's love is tested by the manipulations of James Caan's older Vegas high-roller, but all comes right in the end. (Weirdly, Adrian Lyne's ludicrous Indecent Proposal played pretty much exactly the same plot for melodrama, in Vegas to boot, the very next year.) Mostly, Hollywood has taught us that the city isn't really conducive to everlasting love: see recent Oscar champ Anora, with its harshly updated Cinderella story that all starts to go south with a hasty Vegas chapel wedding, or Francis Ford Coppola's underrated, iridescent musical One from the Heart, in which a Vegas-dwelling couple drift apart on the night of their fifth wedding anniversary. It's a melancholy affair, but feelgood viewing compared to Mike Figgis's shattering Leaving Las Vegas, in which Cage's suicidal alcoholic screenwriter and Elisabeth Shue's ill-treated sex worker forge a soul connection amid surrounding despair. The little-remembered 1949 noir The Lady Gambles (Internet Archive) serves up a slice of married life dimmed by the city's distractions: Barbara Stanwyck is compelling as a well-to-do housewife drawn swiftly into ruinous gambling addiction on a trip to Vegas. For better or worse, casinos remain the lifeblood of the city, as demonstrated in Martin Scorsese's dizzily expansive crime opus Casino, which lays bare the often grisly business workings behind the scenes. But it's Bugsy, Barry Levinson's handsomely dressed biopic of 1940s mobster and driving Vegas strip founder Bugsy Siegel, that gives the city a somewhat glamorised origin story. All titles in bold are widely available to stream unless otherwise specified Paddington in Peru (Netflix) The third big-screen outing for Britain's best-loved bear is the weakest: cheerful, amusing in spots (particularly wherever Olivia Colman's shady nun character is involved), but missing the ironic, innovative touch that absent director Paul King brought to the first two. Kids were still delighted, however, and its arrival on Netflix this week is a half-term coup. The Balconettes (BFI Player) French actor Noémie Merlant makes her directorial debut with this chaotic but enjoyable melange of ghost story, farce and feminist revenge tale, following three female roommates who wind up in bloody trouble over a scorching midsummer weekend in Marseille – the humid atmosphere is half the pleasure here. September 5 Swiss director Tim Fehlbaum delivers a tight, in-the-moment dramatisation of how one American newsroom responded to the Munich massacre as it unfolded during the 1972 Olympics: strenuously apolitical as it narrows its focus strictly to immediate, clock-ticking stakes, it's certainly absorbing but adds little perspective to previous accounts of the event.
