MUSCLE-BOUND

Valiant cast battles loud, ugly action for the soul of Man of Steel

Early in Man of Steel, fourth-grader Clark Kent, the boy who will be Superman, is cowering in a broom closet at school, eyes screwed shut, hands clapped over his ears. He can't control his super powers: his X-ray vision shows him the skulls and skeletons under everyone's flesh; unfiltered noise—dogs, traffic, heartbeats—assault him from all sides.

Rushing to school, his mom kneels outside the door and asks what's wrong.

"The world is too big!" he tells her.

Then focus, she urges him. "Make it smaller."

If only somebody had given director Zack Snyder the same advice.

When Snyder keeps his focus small—the boyhood and young manhood of Clark Kent (played as an adult by supernaturally handsome and chiseled Henry Cavill), told in beautifully integrated flashbacks as he drifts though a series of itinerant odd jobs searching for his destiny—the movie is persuasive and rewarding.

But when the supervillains from Krypton, led by bug-eyed General Zod (Michael Shannon), start laying waste to Earth in a series of demolition derby grudge matches against prodigal son Kal-El (aka Clark), the movie loses its credibility and its heart.

The action sequences in Man of Steel are remarkable for their aggressive ugliness. After one CGI orgy in which Clark's home town of Smallville is devastated, I was ready to crawl into a broom closet.

Given these bludgeoning effects, it's easy to forget the good things in the movie. But here's what they are:

Superman. All three actors play him effectively, including Cooper Timberline and Dylan Sprayberry as the child and adolescent Clark.

Henry Cavill (left) gives the movies its best moments as scruffy young drifter Clark, trying to find himself.

Russell Crowe. As Superman's natural father, Jor-El, Crowe is the voice of reason, wisdom, and restraint amid the chaos.

The Moms. Israeli actress Ayelet Zurer is wonderful as Kal-El's birth mother; her tender scenes with Crowe at the beginning (that's the two of them, with infant Kal-El, right), and her quiet maternal ferocity are quite lovely.

And Diane Lane is fun as a spirited, if careworn, Martha Kent, standing up for her foster son against all comers. (Read more)

Btw, diehard comics fans are enraged by the climactic moment in this film; no spoilers here, but it alters a fundamental character trait in Superman's personality.

I have to say I agree. With one careless decision, this movie turns one of pop culture's most mythic heroes into just another vigilante.

BRIGHT IDEAS

Color me jazzed!

An essay I was invited to write about my new fantasy novel, Alias Hook, has just been posted at the excellent sci-fi/fantasy book preview site, Upcoming 4.me.

It's a regular feature on the site called "The Story Behind..." where authors are invited to write about whatever on earth it was that prompted them to abandon all rational thinking and plunge into writing a novel.

In my case, it was simple: Captain James Hook started talking to me. No, seriously! There's no other way to describe it.

So if you've ever wondered where authors get their ideas, here's my story!

THE ART(S) of SUMMER

With the days getting longer (and the mornings foggier) it's starting to feel a lot like summer around here. And what better way to spend a long, sun-kissed summery evening than stepping out on the First Friday Art Tour to see what's going on in the Santa Cruz art scene?

The answer this month is: plenty!

For one thing, the Cultural Council of Santa Cruz County (ensconced in temporary digs downtown for the last two years) has just moved into its new forever home at The Tannery, in the historic Kron House.

The orgnization that stages the Open Studios Art Tour every October, puts real-live artists in the schools via the SPECTRA program, and funds innumerable arts projects countywide throughout the year is celebrating the next chapter in its collective life not only with a new location, but a new name: henceforth they are —ta-da!—Arts Council, Santa Cruz County.

Get over to The Tannery by 5 pm, Friday, in time for the ribbon-cutting ceremony to inaugurate the new space. Inside, you'll see an exhibition of work celebrating local artists who have at one time or other served on the Open Studios Committee—including James Aschbacher (that's his "Ocean View Apartment," above), Faye Augustine,  Fanne Fernow, Jane Gregorious,  Roy Holmberg, Tobin Keller, Steven and Bonnie Barisof, Peggy Snider, Doug Ross, Christianna Hunnicutt, Sally Jorgensen, Lynda Watson, Peggy Waller...oh, and at least a dozen more!

The Kron House, built in the 1860s, and most recently the site of Kirby Scudder's Dead Cow Gallery, has been painstakingly rennovated and restored to preserve the integrity of the original building. (When you go, take note of the massive, original brick wall in the kitchenette area—a piece of art in its own right. They don't make 'em like that any more!)

Then wend your way downtown to the Santa Cruz Public Library to meet one of the newest artists of FFAT. Nina Lutz won't even graduate from Santa Cruz High School until next week, but she's showing a body of paintings and drawings at the library to celebrate the publication of her new children's book, Fashion Animal ABCs. It's a whimsical alphabet book whose charming watercolor illustrations combine her love of animals and extreme fashion.

Diagnosed with a rare form of bone cancer about one year ago, Nina turned to painting and drawing to get her through the long process of treatment and recovery. Her original illustrations and other paintings will be exhibited at the library, and copies of her book will also be for sale. Proceeds from the book go to Lucile Packard Children's Hospital, for childhood cancer research. Reception on Friday is from 4-6pm.

Just down the road, the Felix Kulpa Gallery will be hosting one of Santa Cruz's most venerable and well-known artists, Gloria K. Alford.

A long-running Open Studios veteran, and 40-year resident of Santa Cruz, Gloria is known these days for her bold abstract paintings and beautifully textured paper collages.

At her one-woman show at Felix Kulpa, called 16" x 16", Gloria will be showing recent and vintage work. Artist's reception will be from 6-9pm. (To get in the mood, click here to watch Gloria discuss her work and her upcoming show with KZSC's Artists on Art hostess Nada Milijkovic.)

Meanwhile, over at True Olive Connection, catch up with another longtime local artist, Evelyn Jenkins Drew. Justly famed for her popular, sun-splashed watercolors of woodies and othr seaside and surf culture scenes, her artwork has graced numerous local event posters, from Capitola Art and Wine and the Capitola Begonia Festival to Woodies on the Wharf.

Evelyn's original watercolors will be in display at True Olive, not only of local scenes, but also work inspired by the tropical landscapes of Hawaii, Mexico, and the Caribbean, where she and her husband travel on their sailboat for four months out of every year. Artist's reception from 6-8:30 pm. (But after soaking up Evelyn's paintings, don't be surprised if you get the urge to head across the parking lot to Hula's to keep the tropical buzz going!)

These are just a few of the 41 venues hosting art exhibits on this month's FFAT. Feel free to design your own personal tour!

MYSTIC PORTALS

Here's a tip from the Inconstant Traveler. If you want to soak up the art, culture, and/or history of a place, forget the museums. Check out the doors!

I speak mainly of Europe, since I've rarely been anywhere else. (That's why my travels are inconstant!) But there is nothing so mysterious and beguiling as an Old World door you stumble across by sheer chance, on your way to someplace else.

Like this wonderful little Hobbit-like door tucked under a stone archway in the walled medieval town of Noyers-sur-Serein, in the Burgundy district of France. Art Boy and I fell in love with this door! Where does it lead? Who used it? What was its story?

That's the thing about the Old World; it's so much older than the New World! History is right there in front of you at every turn, begging to be discovered, and plumbed. If only we could find the password to get in.

Not all doors are small and atmospheric.

Some are inexplicably massive. I loved the gigantic carving (a man, a mermaid, and some sort of heraldic shield, is my best guess) above what is apparently a residential door in downtown Stockholm, Sweden.

The heavy wooden door is pretty cool too, once I get out of the way so you can see it; look at the size of that doorknob!

Another massive architectural carving decorates this arched double doorway in Leopoldstadt, Vienna, about a block away from the bridge over the Danube Canal into the Inner Stadt (downtown).

Judging from the little plaques, I think this building now houses offices—however grand a past it might have once had.

Here's another wildly carved doorway (although in a very different mood) from the Inner Stadt in Vienna.  My guess is this dates from the highly decorative 1910s or 1920s (although it could be much later).

 The figures look mythic, and from the star patterns that decorate them, I think they must represent constellations—Perseus, with the snake-haired Medusa head, on the upper left, and Andromeda, in chains, on the right.

The doors inside the alcove are impressive too; I love the contrast between the warm, brandy-colored wood and the cool grey concrete.

The buzzer placket suggests apartments or offices inside, but, sadly, unlike museums, doors you find on the street don't come with labels, so what the use or intent of this portal originally was is lost to the murky depths of Time.

Here we have another very arty door from wonderfully arty Prague.

This is half of a wrought iron gate that leads from a bustling little commercial street in Mala Strana (Little Town) into a quiet courtyard dotted with a couple of shops.

This castle-knight-ship design looks very modernist to me—possibly post-Communism—and as whimsical and charming as all of Prague.


 These ornate carved wooden double doors are attached to a small house that has stood empty for years in Mala Strana; we passed them every day when we were in Prague last summer.

Our traveling companion, Donna Mekis, poses here with Art Boy, as we all fantasize about moving in!

Sometimes it's not the door itself, but the decorations that get me.

 Look at these wonderful medieval-ish carving on a private door we passed in Prague one day in the vicinity of Nerudova Street!

They don't appear to be door knockers, but simply whimsical carvings for the sheer joy of it. The figures are not exact mirror images of each other, either, so your guess is as good as mine as to why one is upside down.

I thought they might be jesters with very stylized ass' ears, since the jester/fool is the official emblem of Prague (for a people who were as occupied and oppressed for so long as the Bohemians, what can you do but laugh?), although it's hard to tell. But the detail is amazing, especially the faces!

And finally, perhaps the most mysterious of all: this rather alarming, riveted iron door stood in an otherwise unremarkable wall of the tiny kitchen in our apartment in Vienna.

It was locked and bolted, of course, although without this pic as a reference point, I'd be tempted to remember it as being swathed with chains and padlocks—that's how forbidding it was!

It might have been a cellar door guarding dark family secrets (except it's on the fifth floor). It might have been built to keep out the Nazis during World War II.

But—like all the other mysterious doors of Europe—it's like a mystic portal into another world entirely.

KISS of LIFE

If you love fairy tales, in all their infinite variety, don't miss Blancanieves, Pablo Berger's flavorful retelling of Snow White with a decidedly Spanish twist. That it's a silent film (no spoken dialogue, but a vivid musical soundtrack), shot in luminous black-and-white, only adds to its distinction. By making the story so uniquely his own, Berger proves just how universal the enduring and endlessly adaptable fairy tale format can be.

Snow White was the "It" girl of the moment last year with two separate Hollywood productions vying to bestow the kiss of life on the old tale. But Mirror Mirror and Snow White and the Huntsman failed (the one being too giddy, the other trying to graft on too much epic fantasy action) by attempting to recreate some kind of familiar, if nebulous, fairy tale realm.

Berger shows how to do it correctly by setting his version of the tale in a very specific era and culture—Seville, Spain, ca, 1920. It's a heady milieu rife with flamenco music, bullfighting, and women's emancipation.

The story begins with the heroine's parents. Her father is a famous matador, Antonio Villalta  (the elegant Daniel Giménez Cacho); her mother, Carmen (Inma Questa), is a beautiful flamenco dancer. On the day Antonio suffers a paralyzing accident in the ring, Carmen goes into labor early and dies giving birth to their daughter, called Carmencita.

Antonio can't bear to look at the baby, who is whisked off by her grandmother (Angela Molina) to be raised. Meanwhile, the scheming nurse, Encarna (Maribel Verdu), worms her way into the household of wealthy but now helpless Antonio, and drags him into marriage.

Years later, on Carmencita's Communion day, her loving abuela dies, and the young girl (the winsome, vivacious Sofia Oria) is sent to live in her father's household.

Here, filmmaker Berger borrows a page from Cinderella as her stepmother, Encarna, shuts up Carmencita in the cellar, cuts her hair, and puts her to work as the household drudge. Her only friend is a chicken—until the day she accidentally wanders into her father's room. Smitten with the girl who now reminds him so much of her mother, Antonio rouses himself out of his emotional doldrums; he reads her fairy tales and teaches the eager girl the art of bullfighting.

Of course, Encarna finds a way to permanently squelch their growing bond, and the now young adult Carmencita (Macarena Garcia) finds herself cast out into the world. She's revived from an attempted drowning by a troupe of dwarves with a traveling torero act; they stage mini bullfights with horned calves.

She can't remember who she is (they call her Blancanieves, i.e.: Snow White), but she joins the act when she proves she knows her way around the ring. (Animal lover alert: no bulls are killed in this movie; it's all about the artistry of the cape.)

Soon, the young lady matadora is the toast of Seville—famous enough to once again attract the notice of the jealous and powerful Encarna.

Verdu is great nasty fun as Encarna, swanning around in her chic clothes with matched pair of greyhounds, seeking advice from her mirror image in a reflecting pond. As Blancanieves, both little Oria and fresh, poised Garcia are spirited and appealing, but never sticky-sweet. This girl isn't sitting around, waiting for her prince to come; she's, er, grabbing life by the horns!

Berger has an eye for striking images (time passes as a full moon dissolves into the Communion wafer on the tip of Carmencita's tongue), and an ear for evocative music—his score includes flamenco guitar, propulsive hand-clapping, and the occasional haunting strains of a Theremin.

And these are definitely not your Uncle Walt's dwarfs, from the cheerfully cross-dressing Josefa (Alberto Martinez) and pompous, embittered Jesusin (Emilio Gavira), to soulful Juanin (Jinson Añazco)—who is far more substantial than any typical storybook prince.

Berger's ending will be controversial. It seemed to me to occur about five minutes short of actually resolving the story that Berger sets up with such an inventive flourish. (Although it does work as a sly, cautionary warning to artists to never, ever sign a contract for life with a diabolical agent, as Blancanieves does here.) But at least the open-ended finale adds another layer of intrigue to a truly enchanting film.

TREK on TRACK

Characters, action, humor, surprise fuel 'Star Trek Into Darkness'

J. J. Abrams has figured out the secret to building a better franchise: treat the source material with respect, but not reverence, don't be afraid to tweak its foibles, jazz it up with a lot of youthful energy, and, most of all, have fun with it. This is the policy that made his first Star Trek prequel such a hit in 2009, and Abrams and his team continue to revitalize the series with the fast, punchy, slyly funny, yet surprisingly touching Star Trek Into Darkness.

Working again with the writing team from the first film, Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman, abetted here by co-scripter Damon Lindeof, Abrams maintains the same balance of irreverence and affection for Gene Roddenberry's beloved characters and the idealized, multi-cultural future they represent.

Then he grafts it all onto a kick-ass action narrative that hurtles along at warp-speed and has viewers literally holding on to their seats. True, it's too easy to get lost in the labyrinth of the plot, and some of the gigantic action sequences devolve into silliness, but mostly it's a fresh and satisfying ride.

The film begins in the middle of the action, with brash young starship Captain James Kirk (well-played by Chris Pine) breaking a few Starfleet rules to spring his First Officer, Spock (the excellent Zachary Quinto), out of an erupting volcano on a primitive planet.

(Berated for not following the Prime Directive, Kirk shrugs, "Aw, c'mon, Spock, they saw us. What's the big deal?" as awed native people on the ground draw an image of the Starship Enterprise to worship.)

When terrorist explosions rock the very core of Starfleet HQ, Admiral Marcus (Peter Weller) dispatches Kirk and the Enterprise unofficially to go after the man responsible, called John Harrison (the always marvelous Benedict Cumberbatch), a genetically-engineered superman with a particular grudge against Starfleet. (Read more)

MUCHO MUCHA

An Art Nouveau adventure in Prague with the Inconstant Traveler

From my previous posts about our adventures in Vienna and Prague last summer, readers might get the mistaken idea that all the art was in Vienna.

Not true: in addition to all its other charms, the magical city of Prague is alive with art. Centuries-old carvings, corniches and whimsically painted facades decorate just about every other building in the city.  An amble about the "New Town" section (which dates to around the turn of the last century, as opposed to the adjacent Old Town, which dates back to medieval times) is a feast of Art Nouveau architecture and decoration.

And then there's the Mucha Museum. Just off the main shopping boulevard, Na Prikope, in New Town, a couple of blocks down Panska Street, the museum is dedicated to the life and extraordinary work of Czech native son, Alfons Mucha, whose flowing, ornate style is among the most recognizable of all Art Nouveau artists.

And what a great museum it is! All on one floor, and beautifully laid out so you can follow and appreciate the chronology of Mucha's career.

An early popularizer of organic Nouveau forms, his first success was as a poster artist for Sarah Bernhardt in Fin de Siecle Paris. His revolutionary litho poster for her production of "Gismonda" (1894, above) was such a sensation, stealthy Parisian collectors crept out in the middle of the night to razor them off the kiosks!

During his Paris years, while becoming the premiere designer of advertising posters (for cigarettes, bicycles, tea, biscuits, and, of course, champagne), Mucha also produced illustrations, portraits, and decorative panels—the latter in four-part series, like "The Four Seasons," or "The Four Times of Day" (Matin, Jour, Soir, Nuit).

I love this Claire de Lune, from Mucha's four-part "The Moon and Stars" series. These pieces are not on display at the museum,  but I fell in love with the image on this bookmark in the gift shop and had to have it!

In 1910, Mucha rediscovered his roots, returned to Prague, and began creating posters and artwork celebrating Czech history and folklore, culminating in his 20-panel "Slav Epic" series of oil paintings.

These massive works are off-site, housed in the National Gallery's Veletrzni Palace, but the museum displays a large study for one of them, the haunting, enigmatic Star (or Winter Night), in which a Russian peasant woman embraces her fate on a snowy night.

Mucha's decorative lines and sinewy forms are exquisite, and it's fascinating to see some of his original drawings on display next to the printed poster versions.

Sketches and sketchbooks are also viewable in glass cases featuring the artist's designs for jewelry, furniture, and decorative motifs.

At the end of the exhibit, there's even an informative 15-minute biographical video—in English!

Stroll a few short blocks away and prepare to be dazzled by the Municipal House (Obceni Dum), begun in1906 and opened in 1912.

This block-long corner building situated on Namesti Republiky is an Art Nouveau masterpiece, from its gorgeous glass, and iron filigree, and painted and sculptural exteriors to its luscious tiled and stained glass interiors.

Among other things, the building houses three elegant restuarants and cafes—including the very cool Americky Bar in the basement—and the Smetana Concert Hall featuring Mucha-painted lintels and murals.

This is the principal venue for the Royal Prague Orchestra.

The day we visited New Town, we stopped in at Tesco (sort of the Czech Costco) on the way back to our apartment for more Bohemian Sekt ("sekt" being the all-purpose Eastern European word for champagne-like sparkling wine; we sampled sekt in Vienna as well).

Imagine our delight to find this bottle of Mucha Sekt!

The label is a lovely reproduction of a vintage Mucha champagne poster design.

Of course, we had to try it! And, of course, I had to bring the bottle home with me, in memory of our Mucha Day in Prague!

ALL THAT JAZZ AGE

Baz Luhrmann delivers a Deco-licious, surprisingly effective 'Great Gatsby'


With Baz Luhrmann in the driver's seat, the slick, shiny roadster that is The Great Gatsby could go either way. This meeting of the florid visual stylist (Moulin Rouge) and F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic American novel of the Jazz Age might be a head-on collision of inappropriate style, anachronistic music, and frantic bombast over substance. Or it might just as easily be a brilliant reimagining of an American classic revitalized for a new generation.

In fact, there are glimmers of each of these possible scenarios in Luhrmann's Gatsby. Fortunately, the more self-conscious stylistic touches—jarring Jay-Z rap music to convey the frenetic energy of the postwar Twenties; gigantic, overly-choreographed party sequences shot from above like Busby Berkeley routines—mostly occur early on, while Luhrmann is setting his stage.

Once the set-up is established, Luhrmann ditches most of his tricks, letting the characters and their agendas propel the story for a surprisingly faithful and urgent account of Fitzgerald's enduring tale of class, money, and shipwrecked dreams.

To make use of Fitzgerald's shrewd observations on a war-weary America caught in the act of reinventing itself, Luhrmann employs a framing device set in post-Crash 1929. The novel's narrator, aspiring writer Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire), now being treated for alcoholism, is encouraged to write down the story of his former neighbor and friend, the famously rich and elusive Jay Gatsby.

As the tale unfolds in Nick's memory, a great deal of Fitzgerald's prose (occasionally even scrawling across the screen) is effectively preserved.

Leonardo DiCaprio's delusional Gatsby comes complete with alluring smile, mystery, and vulnerability intact. And Luhrmann's attention to period detail is fabulous, from the gorgeous black and white Warner Bros. logo at the beginning to the Deco-licious costumes and production design, both by Catherine Martin. (Read more)


PIRATE GOLD

Har! Look what the tide washed in, me hearties!

Precious booty, indeed—a box of my author's copies of Alias Hook, freshly arrived from my publisher in  the UK. It is, without doubt and irrefutably, a book!

I would love to let them sift through my fingers like gold doubloons, to dive into them like Scrooge McDuck in his money bin! But in the interest of common sense and physical possibility (those old killjoys), I guess I'll have to content myself with rapt gazing.

This is a hugely exciting moment in the life cycle of an ink-stained wretch (or ink-stained wench, as my friend Vinnie calls us). But it's not THE most exciting moment. That's the one that comes next, and it can only be achieved with audience participation.

Let the Reading begin!

SWEET on ART

Does your mom crave art? Or chocolate? How about combing the best of both addictions this Mother's Day weekend by taking Mom out on the 6th annual Art & Chocolate art tour.

This is the popular event where a dozen local artists in the Live Oak/Pleasure Point area of mid-county open their studio doors to the public.

Not only is there a staggering amount of original art on view—landscape, abstract, figurative and whimsical painting, stone and ceramic sculpture, art glass—but each participating artist will also provide free chocolate to all intrepid art tourists. Such a deal!

This year's A&C artists include abstract painter Daniel S. Friedman, ceramicists Geoffrey Nicastro (abstract and functional) and Carole DePalma (whimsical figures and colorful mosaics), landscape painters Maggie Renner Hellmann, Lou Renner, Amy Stark, and Paul Rodrigues, figurative painter and sculptor Richard Bennett, abstract stone sculptor Mike McClellan, and painter Janet Ferraro, who specializes in horses and the natural world.

As usual, Art Boy will be on board; that's his For the Love of Apples up top. New this year is that we're sharing our studio space with the phenomal hand-blown art glass creations of Jim and Connie Grant. Here's a vase in their Silver Ribbon series. Pretty cool, huh?

All the artist are located within a two-mile radius of each other in Live Oak/Pleasure Point, so it's a fairly low-impact, high-reward kind of event. Admission (and chocolate) is free, so grab your mother, your offspring, or the loved one of your choice and check it out!

For more info, to download a tour map or find a list of outlets carrying the free A&C brochure, click here.