“Sometimes not giving up is the most heroic thing you can do.” Aquaman and The Lost Kingdom AND Wonka

“Sometimes not giving up is the most heroic thing you can do.” – Aquaman’s dad Tom Curry (Temuera Morrison)

“Every good thing in this world started with a dream.” – Willy Wonka’s unnamed mother (Sally Hawkins)

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom, contrary to popular reports, is not a bad movie. It’s not a very good movie either. But it is fun and good-hearted in the spirit of big dumb blockbusters from the mid-80s. Director James Wan continues the day-glo world-building from its predecessor.

Wonka, contrary to popular reports, is not a great movie. It’s not a bad movie either. But it is fun and good-hearted in the spirit of big dumb musicals from the late 60s and mid-70s. Director Paul King continues the day-glo world-building from its predecessor.

(Sensing a theme here?)

What both films do really well is explore the ideas of legacy and familial love, both the family you are born into and your “found” family. I would say Wonka does a better job of that than the Aquaman sequel, but taken together (as I did in a post-New Year’s double feature), the films send a loving message about leaning on (and lifting up) friends and family to make the best of a tricky situation … be it preventing a glowy-eyed supervillain from destroying the earth through global warming or a chocolate cartel fixing the prices of yummy confections and driving all competitors out of business. (You can guess which challenge goes with which movie!)

Interestingly, if I had my druthers, I would have suggested some choose-your-own-adventure mashup of the two respective casts. Jason Momoa with his wild child ways actually would have made a far more effective Willy Wonka than the slight, safe Timothée Chalamet. Chalamet is perfectly serviceable as a reedy-voiced song and dance man (Wonka is a musical … Aquaman not so much), but he’s missing the malevolent, unpredictable glee of, say, Gene Wilder who so notably originated the role of Willy Wonka waaaaay back in 1971. Chalamet looks the part and has a (pun-intended) goopy sweetness, but he never delivers that electric charge of creative madness the character requires. Momoa on the other hand nails creative madness on a routine trip to the grocery store.

And then I might swap Patrick Wilson, who plays Aquaman’s ne’er-do-well brother Orm, in for Aquaman himself. Wilson is far more interesting than he’s ever given credit. He looks like he’s carved out of cream cheese (to quote Steel Magnolias) but he has the comic timing and gravitas of someone trained for the Broadway stage (twice Tony-nominated no less!) that would bring some classic zing to the King of the Seas IMHO.

Both films benefit from strong ensemble work, and, like some zany repertory road show, I’d mix and match any and all performers across the films: Sally Hawkins vs. Nicole Kidman as fretting but steely matriarchs in Wonka and Aquaman respectively; Yahya Abdul-Mateen II vs. Paterson Joseph as smoldering but surly baddies Black Manta and Slugworth; Olivia Colman vs. Randall Park for lightly malevolent comic relief; Martin Short vs. Hugh Grant for the “wait, why are THEY in this?” stunt casting (one’s an Oompa Loompa and the other a … fish-man mafia don?). You get the gist.

Oh, and ironically, Aquaman’s totally tubular, synth-rich score by Rupert Gregson-Williams is a smidge more compelling than the songs for Wonka, an actual musical, as composed by The Divine Comedy’s Neil Hannon. That said, I wouldn’t mind seeing/hearing Wonka’s catchy “Scrub, Scrub” being performed by Aquaman’s CGI deep ocean denizens Topo, the crabby scene stealing cephalopod, and Storm, the majestic bioluminescent seahorse. And Wonka director Paul King does wring a new heartbreaking context from classic Leslie Bricusse/Anthony Newley cut “Pure Imagination” toward the conclusion of the prequel. (I’m not crying. You’re crying.)

At this point, anyone reading this “review” has likely given up making head nor (fish) tails of it all. And that’s rather how I feel after having watched both Warner Brothers Discovery flicks. They are fine, fun, decent holiday diversions with enough good in each for you to roll out of bed in your sweatpants and spend an afternoon escaping January’s grey malaise. Both will play far better on a big screen as each film seems to be set-designed by Salvador Dali after raiding a Toys R Us while hopped up on Pixie Stix.

Before we begin our annual slog through Oscar-bait films that *may* be lurking in a theatre near you or are now more likely hidden on some streaming by-way that requires a pricey subscription and/or password you’ve forgotten, go have some big dumb fun at the movies. That’s why we all really love cinema, if we’re truly being honest, Scorsese be damned.

“The right accessory can change your life.” Two Muses production of new musical “At the Bistro Garden”

At the Bistro Garden Cast  (Photo by Melissa Tremblay of Platinum Imagery)

At the Bistro Garden Cast (Photo by Melissa Tremblay of Platinum Imagery)

The 1980s are hot again. I guess nostalgia must have a 25-to-30-year sell-by date when it really kicks in. Fifteen years ago, the 1970s were the rage, and we may be on the cusp of the 90s making their grungy resurgence, but right now the 80s are where it’s at.

Perhaps it’s because, like that bygone day-glo era, we still live under a perpetual shroud of Armageddon, be it chemical or nuclear or viral. Perhaps it’s because we again exist in a politically divisive age where neither political party nor our president seem terribly interested in what any of us day-to-day schmucks think or feel. Perhaps it’s because our celebrities from then and today seem interchangeable, wearing outfits that look like they were designed by circus carnies.

Regardless, the 1980s are au courant, which is perfect timing for Two Muses Theatre’s Midwestern debut of the big-haired/shoulder-padded musical At the Bistro Garden. (In the spirit of open disclosure, I know personally many of the folks involved with this production and even helped with some of their marketing, including this interview with the show’s creative team.)

Nonetheless and perhaps in part because of this, I enjoyed the show a great deal. In similar fashion to two other beloved broadly comic artifacts from my youth – Designing Women and Steel Magnolias – the show recounts the trials and tribulations of three women caught between a rock and a hard place, proto-feminists whose formative years may have been haunted by Donna Reed and Gidget but whose present days are shaped by Gloria Steinem and Madonna.

The three ladies who lunch – Abigail, Cheyenne, and B.J. – have more money and time on their hands than they should and meet every Friday at Beverly Hills’ famed Bistro Garden restaurant to kvetch and kvell about family and friends. The plot wouldn’t have been out-of-place in a very special episode of the aforementioned Designing Women but offers enough meaningful complications to give this talented trio some great scenery to chew. As expected for a show set in this era, there’s much talk of divorce and alimony, illegitimate children … and shopping. An early number – the zippy “A Sale at Neiman’s” – celebrates the joys of retail excess, offering the bon mot “the right accessory can change your life.”

At times, the cartoonish whimsy of life in the 80s takes on an almost allegorical quality, highlighting the disconnect between narcissistic artifice and the very real pain (and reward) friendship and family can bring. The lilting tunes and snappy patter neatly propel the show and its themes.

The cast functions very well as an ensemble, each shining particularly in the more poignant moments. Sometimes the rat-a-tat dialogue gets a little lost in translation, where the wit should come from speed not emphasis, but when this cast clicks, they really click.

At the Bistro Garden

At the Bistro Garden

Carrie Jay Sayer as “Lady of the Canyon” Cheyenne and AlissaBeth Morton as her daughter Destiny (yeah, those names are a time warped hoot) steal every scene with a believable familial dynamic that engenders laughter and tears. They really do a solid job finding the humor in the pathos.

Amy Lauter as Abigail, a sweet-natured if misguided women-done-wrong, and Diane Hill as B.J., a not-as-sweet-natured but equally misguided woman-done-wrong, both have many touching moments as they explore the betrayal of a dream deferred. Both actresses excel in their plaintive solo numbers, plumbing new depths of heartache.

John DeMerell as master of ceremonies and the restaurant’s maître d’ sparkles – the catalyst that gives the production forward momentum and a refreshing lightness. He has a ball playing several additional bit parts throughout the show, aided and abetted by clever costuming and no end of silly accents. Miles Bond and Rusty Daugherty are fun as a sort of campy Greek chorus, offering arch commentary as waiters, moving men, clerks who float through the proceedings.

Indeed, the costuming by Barbie Amann Weisserman is perfection, loving and warmly funny but never satirical, which is a tricky balance to pull off. Lesser costumers end up making fun of a garish era such as this one, forgetting that people actually intend to look attractive (usually) and it’s only later in time when we realize how odd some of our fashion choices actually might have been. Everyone in the show does in fact look gorgeous, even if the styles and patterns and prints make us giggle with knowing recognition.

A narrative highlight – musically and acting-wise – is the number “Just Another Baby.” A scorched-earth, toxic meltdown that B.J. (Hill) delivers at a baby shower, ridiculing our nation’s unyielding mania for infants and our collective fixation on insipid names, miniaturized fashion, and corrosive parental competition. Hill nails it, and, as the show’s creative team (Deborah Pearl on book, David Kole on music/lyrics) continues to refine this work, they might consider sprinkling a bit of that second act’s number’s funny-as-h*ll venom throughout the softer/gentler first act.

(One minor quibble is the use of a pre-recorded accompaniment in this production. There is a live keyboard for some of the numbers, and those particular songs/performances had a warmer, more organic quality. No doubt this hybrid approach was driven by resource availability, but, at times it is a bit distracting.)

Jules Aaron’s direction is efficient and witty and makes effective use of the tight space with multi-functional set pieces and clever blocking. He has done a fabulous job forging a tight ensemble with rich stage life and believable connections, clearly key to making this show sing (pun intended).

As a new work, this show is worth catching to see how it continues to develop. The first act could use a trim here or there as it serves chiefly to set up the soap opera-esque fireworks of the second act (think Douglas Sirk meets The Carol Burnett Show – and that’s a good thing). After the intermission, the show speeds along as all of the puzzle pieces established in the first act come together. The show has one more weekend so be sure to stop by The Bistro Garden, to reminisce about a bygone era that is still surprisingly and perhaps sadly relevant today. Tickets can be purchased at www.twomusestheatre.org.

Two Muses Theatre performs in the Barnes & Noble Booksellers Theatre Space, 6800 Orchard Lake Rd, West Bloomfield, MI  48322, South of Maple (15 Mile). Enter the bookstore, and the theatre is on the left.

________________________

Tomfoolery

Tomfoolery

Reel Roy Reviews is now a book! Thanks to BroadwayWorld for this coverage – click here to view.

In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the book currently is being carried by Bookbound, Common Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan.

My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.