Anna Karenina

My favorite novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, makes frequent reference to Tolstoy's famous novel, Anna Karenina, but I'm intimidated by such big books; I finally made the faux pas of high school students everywhere and watched the movie first. 

Much of the plot can be inferred from The Unbearable Lightness of Being, so I was able to spend my first viewing savoring the cinematography. Joe Wright's 2012 film was Oscar-nominated for its cinematography, as well as its costumes. Far superior to his 2005 Pride & Prejudice, the film pairs Matthew Macfadyen and Keira Knightley as brother and sister. Macfadyen is a comic delight as Oblonsky, the photo-negative of his stoic Mr. Darcy. It's hardly his first comedic outing, but if you saw the American Death at a Funeral, you might not know Macfadyen had it in him. What with Ripper Street and Pride & Prejudice at the forefront of my mind, I had all but forgotten. Thankfully, Knightley has vastly improved from her Austen days, having grown into herself somehow - or perhaps like Helena Bonham Carter, she's better in a corset. As her somewhat cold, but important, politician husband, Karenin, Jude Law manages to minimize his sex appeal, but maximize his devotion, only to be cuckolded by his beloved, reliable wife. At a ball, Anna usurps her cousin's suitor - a young officer, Count Vronsky. 

Here's where the film lost me a little.

Aaron Johnson plays Vronsky, with longish bleached hair; it's difficult to see what Anna sees in him. There's very little chemistry between Knightley and Johnson (not that there's any between Knightley and Law), but it's difficult to sustain any belief in the imperative, passionate nature of the affair. Anna's disregard for the conventions of the society in which she lives makes things difficult for herself and Karenin. Vronsky fares better, or perhaps the consequences hound him offscreen. 

Of course, I'm biased. I think Levin (Domhnall Gleeson) is the most attractive man in the film. Lucy's rebuttal of his heartfelt, if awkward, proposal is devastating. Their later reconciliation actually brought me to tears. ACTUALLY BROUGHT ME TO TEARS. 

Thankfully, Wright's pop-up book of a film is visually stunning. The unusual premise of setting the story in a theater, on a changeable set, allows for some truly beautiful shots. Several scenes seem to have been filmed in a snow globe. I just wish I liked the film more, as a whole, to be able to watch it again for the visuals. 

A Streetcar Named Desire

Thank God for the National Theatre. Their 'National Theatre Live' broadcasts have facilitated international audiences for the tremendous productions in and around London. I would have given a limb to see the Gillian Anderson/Ben Foster cast of A Streetcar Named Desire; thankfully, I didn't have to. 

This Streetcar was staged at London's Young Vic, a blackbox space that is reimagined with every production. The scenic design for this production is unusual; Magda Willi gave the set a mod feel - later fifties, more sixties style to the unit set. She may also have collaborated with Ikea. I'm not quite sure. More remarkable is the fact that the set is on a turntable. The movement is slow, but nearly constant, intended to engage the audience in a way that they might not otherwise have participated. Director Benedict Andrews uses the set well, whether emphasizing the motion of the set, or simply guiding his actors on the narrow platform. The apartment is transparent, having only doors and posts, the walls implied, the actors both liberated by the space and given the responsibility of making it as claustrophobic or open as needed. The cast is more than up to the task.

It's a different cast than you might expect. As Stella, Vanessa Kirby is slim and beautiful, and whereas many companies might cast a more homely figure, Andrews' cast recognizes the fact that only Stella and Blanche need to suppose that Blanche is the prettier, more glamorous sister. Kirby's Stella is confident, sexy, stylish, and social. She's the one with a support system, even if her friends are also in abusive relationships. Stella is as sympathetic as Blanche, if not more so. 

For Stanley, director Andrews has chosen American actor Ben Foster. Foster has often played the volatile tough guy, in films like The Messenger and 3:10 to Yuma, but here he's bulked up a bit, tapped into Stanley's insecurities and his protective instincts. It's much easier to sympathize with his Stanley, rather than simply find oneself attracted to Brando's hyper-masculine apeman. 

I adore this thoroughly well-balanced and modern production. It's too easy to give the play to Stanley and Blanche - but there is so much more to be gotten out of inviting the audience into a complete world.