Magic Meryl

You could do worse in quarantine than spending four and a half hours with your spouse and Meryl Streep.  But that’s what happened this weekend and, in a word, it was glorious.

Me, all weekend

No, I’m not just saying this because I’m a gay guy.  I mean, of course that’s part of it.  We gays like strong, insanely talented performers, especially women, who in real life speak out and don’t take crap from anyone. 

But that’s not really THE reason.

It’s mostly because, well, with Meryl you know you’ll always be well taken care of, always in good hands.  Quibble if you must with any one of her movies or performances (Note:  For the record, I have ZERO quibbles) but that’s like saying you had a bad piece of chocolate.

… and I would watch that too!

Some brands might be better than others, but ultimately are any of them ever anything but delicious?

Which brings us to Netflix’s The Prom and HBO Max’s Let Them All Talk.

Here’s what to know.  Both are now streaming, both feature HER in light and dark polar opposite characters that suck you instantly under her spell and, at just over two hours apiece, both enable you to avoid thinking about Covid-19 or quarantine or President #Loser even just once.

Isn’t that what the movies and movie acting are all about?

That, and extremely dramatic entrances #Miranda4Ever

Yeah, well tell that to the two idiot NY Times film critics A.O. Scott and Manohla Dargis who recently wrote a long list/article on the Times’ 25 Greatest Actors of the 21st century and very purposely left HER off it.

Forget what she did in Devil Wears Prada, The Iron Lady and even Julie and Julia.  It’s Keanu Reeves who is the fourth great actor of the 2000s for what he does in all those John Wick movies because the way he embodies this slightly ridiculous action hero…is just beautiful to watch.

Uh yeah, same here Meryl.

But I digress, and no, I’m not kidding.  They actually DID write that. 

This is what happens when you are so universally lauded for your artistic abilities decade after decade.  Some credentialed naysayer, and often more than one, will eventually come around and consider you less than just because THEY can.

We’ll stand up for you Meryl!

This is pretty much what goes on in The Prom, but with a lot more at stake than a list.  It’s loosely based on the true story of a lesbian high school student and her girlfriend who were told by the small-minded powers in their town that they were unwelcome at prom.

Is the exclusion of Streep from that dumb list the same thing as the hurtful homophobia we gay people all often endure at various points in childhood at the hands of those in power?

No, it’s a METAPHOR.  And yet, when you think about it, it’s not exactly dissimilar.  It’s just that when you’re an educated adult and your life is good, it hurts a lot less.

Which doesn’t mean it’s fair, or that it doesn’t hurt at all. 

She’ll get over it, I’m sure

Marginalization is ALWAYS meant to hurt on some level, especially when it’s made publicly and the target is that big.

Interestingly, Streep plays a two-time Tony winner in The Prom whose awful Broadway show has closed after horrible reviews and, in a fit of total self-absorption, travels to middle-America with some theatre folk to help our gay heroine simply to garner HERSELF great press and the chance at a third Tony award.

It’s a film musical based on a Broadway musical and it’s total cotton candy, the kind that you could easily be sick from after more than a few helpings.  But anchored by Streep (Note: Or do we keep calling her Meryl?) the whole thing manages to work, and often work really well.

I mean, how bad could this be?

Her performance is not a cartoon but an aptly etched musical type with a soul.  She’s ridiculous and over-the-top but with some vestiges of humanity that manage to peek through as she throws her endless colorful coats around in any number of songs or slams her Tony awards down on a hotel counter as the ultimate power play.

Who else but SHE could make us believe that?  Not many.  I venture to say, not even Keanu.

And yet in Let Them All Talk there she is again as a literate, whispery Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist in stylish oversized glasses, hair tastefully pinned back, who invites two female college chums she hasn’t seen in over 30 years to sail with her on a luxury boat to see her accept yet another literary award.

Add in Candy and Dianne and.. is this gay heaven?

This is a woman who saves it for the page vs. the stage and exhibits such control that she barely seems to exist to the outside world, other than on or through the pages she writes.

Still, she’s a huge presence, oppressive really, to almost everyone around her, especially those she claims to love.  That anyone tolerates her at all is a testament to just how much any of we humans are capable of enduring when we fear speaking up what we truly feel.

Or perhaps it’s just a testament to age.

And please.. we all know Meryl is ageless

For in Let Them All Talk, SHE, Dianne Wiest and Candice Bergen play three woman in their seventies whose behavior and selves are anything but caricature.  We might not know them thoroughly or the exact details of the events in the past that drove them apart but we realize enough to get how real the pained humor between them is.  And how much worse what’s NOT being said would be.

It’s an enigmatic story and film whose power isn’t the blow by blow of what happened but more about our reactions in the present to the ways we continue to behave.

Bonus… it’s Meryl on a boat! #queenmary #queenmeryl

Streep/Meryl or whomever you imagine her to be renders an entirely different kind of famous artist than who she is in real life or what she evoked in The Prom.  It’s a hopelessly internal type who has a whole lot to say about ART and it’s lasting effect on us as people and if she wasn’t such a turn-off perhaps more than one or two people in her life would actually be listening.

But of course WE do listen because by the end of the journey we realize this gal was, indeed, human.  And that everything we didn’t want to believe that came out of her mouth made a whole lot of existential sense – actually too much sense.

I can only thing of one actor in the 21st century who does this so consistently every time they’re at bat regardless of what list anyone chooses to put them on.

And it’s not Keanu Reeves.

“It’s Not About Me” – Meryl Streep (from The Prom)

Starting Over

Thirty years ago I attended the Grammy Awards when John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s “Double Fantasy” won album of the year and I  watched as Lennon’s widow and sometime collaborator, Ono, walked across the stage to accept the honor.  The irony of the moment was not lost on us attendees or the many millions of people watching worldwide.  The monster hit single being played from the recording as she made her way to the podium was Lennon’s “Starting Over” and its message of new beginnings was especially poignant.   Lennon had been murdered a year before at point blank range in front of his NYC apartment building right after the initial release of “Double Fantasy” and his death required that not only his wife but his legion of worldwide fans would somehow have to heed the advice of the song and begin to finally and fully absorb the shock of living in a world where one of the most iconic artists of that time – or pretty much any time – was gone.

Click for full video

As the very petite and very soft-spoken Ms. Ono stood at a clear podium that seemed to engulf her very presence amid thunderous applause that definitely engulfed the very room, I remember thinking three things  – a. “how is she doing it?”  b. “she’s so much smaller than I imagined” and c. “it’s sad that this is what it takes for people in this business to forgive you for some large perceived misdeed (in her case it was  the lingering unjust accusation that she had caused the break up of the Beatles).

As for part b. —  well, most very famous people are not as “larger than life” as they appear to be – both physically or in any other way – and in terms of part c. – human beings are often much more comfortable if we can blame a person or an institution for something we didn’t want to happen instead of blaming ourselves, life or the fickle finger of fate more commonly known as bad luck.

But as for part a. —  I’m still trying to figure that out, though I’m much closer to the answer than I was in 1982 – a time when I was sure I’d be spending the rest of my life with the music industry person I was dating whose personal history did not include one long term (or even short term) happy relationship. What was I thinking?   Hell if I know.  (Though if you really think about it you probably can guess).

But what John Lennon knew at that time and probably before most of the rest of us did, is that starting over is a way of life – a state of being – something indigenous to the human condition, and often to the sometimes inhuman condition, known as show business.

This week a student who was about to graduate college and venture out into the world for the first time without the safety net of academia came to me fairly terrified and only a little excited about the prospects that lie ahead.

“I feel like it’s going to be like starting college all over again, only different and scarier,” said the student while trying not to fidget.

“It is,” I answered, all smiley and knowledgeable, “except instead of paying with money you’ll pay in a lot other ways.”

Okay, I didn’t say that last part because I’m not that cynical and I try to be encouraging in the same way I like to think John Lennon would be.  But part of taking on any new project; stretching yourself to try or be anything you never were before; or even reinventing that which is already there, means a change in strategy.  It means looking at it with fresh eyes.  It means pulling out a blank slate and pretending you’re brand new at it.  Or – if you’ve never, ever done it before – it’s asking yourself the basic questions that all aspiring people, especially creative ones, need to ask.  What is my goal (nee objective) and what is the best, though not necessarily fastest, way to get there?

the evidence of hard work

This question is at the core of teaching in the arts.  As a screenwriting teacher it often comes down to what does your hero want; what are the obstacles in his or her way; and in the end, does he or she get it or don’t they get it?  Really good actors know that they’re reading a really good part in a play, movie or TV show if their character is actually DOING something about GETTING something, rather than just thinking about it, and that even though this thing they’re after might be difficult or near impossible to get, what the audience will be mesmerized by is the journey that this actor will personify.  They know, as do writers, that what’s really interesting is not so much the ending but the struggle to get there.  If something is too easy to get then it’s not worth watching.  If the goal is not worth pursuing or not particularly mesmerizing (which doesn’t mean it has to be lofty), then why are we wasting our time anyway?  And what all writers and all actors need in order to make the goal, the obstacles and the ending convincing is -– drum roll –  you guessed it – a beginning.

give yourself the green ight

The actor and writer always need to start somewhere in order to do their jobs.  It’s the question every creative person must take on and forge through in the fictional world of the “story.”  And just as each new story starts at some point so do the many and various cycles of our lives.

Certainly, this territory has been covered before in numerous:

  • a  Self-help books
  • b. Oprah episodes
  • c. Places of worship and
  • d. Psychiatrist’s couches across the country.

But for some reason it’s easy to forget this simplest of facts when dealing in our real lives.  It’s normal to be uneasy when you’ve never done it or lived there before but it also has the potential to be more exciting than anything you’ve ever experienced.  (Note:  I believe this applies to every situation except death and bungee jumping).

  • Start a new job?  Oh God, what if it sucks?  Or worse yet, if I suck?
  • Begin a new relationship?  I’m getting nauseous at the idea of letting one more person in my inner circle who is going to screw me over unless, well…they really know how to scr…I mean, fit into my inner circle.
  • I can’t move to a new _______, begin a new __________, or even venture into another ________    _________ without some kind of assurance that I won’t be met with failure, hurt or disappointment once again.

Well, as Samuel Beckett once advised, “Fail.  Fail better.”  Or as an acting teacher once proclaimed to me, “do you know what FAMOUS MALE MOVIE STAR and FAMOUS FEMALE MOVIE STAR had in common?  They BOTH loved to audition.”  On this last point, I didn’t believe it about the movie stars either but I have since had it confirmed by several sources so I’m fairly confident that it’s true.

Long before he co-created “The Simpsons” but long after he created the seminal 1970s TV situation comedy “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” James L. Brooks wrote the screenplay for a film called — wait for it —  “Starting Over.”  It was a sort of comedy/drama about a divorced man who falls in love but somehow can’t get over his ex-wife.  Candace Bergen, who up to that point was consistently cast as the beautiful but not terribly three-dimension female heroine in various films, played the unforgettable, somewhat twisted ex-wife and it was with one specific moment of reinvention that she redefined herself as a comic actress, the kind she will forever be known for, like in the hit series “Murphy Brown.” But before “Murphy Brown” there was —

No one had ever seen Bergen like this – foolish, off tune, and, when it came down to it, real and funny because she was bold enough to play a crazed ex-wife as…well… kind of crazy.  By all accounts it could have been pretty crazy career-wise…

As crazy as it probably seemed to many a decade later for someone with the pedigree of James L. Brooks (who had since become a double Oscar winner for writing and directing a little film called “Terms of Endearment”) to spend his time co-creating a TV cartoon series that started as a sort of throw away segment on an early half hour Fox comedy series called “The Tracy Ullman Show.”  Something three generations of college kids (and counting) have grown up on called – “The Simpsons.”

And he’s got a sense of humor to boot…

That’s high class starting over but in no way imagine that on some level it wasn’t the same blank page or screen or new life chapter we all face many times over.  When you begin you don’t know what your “Simpsons-like” ending will be – or if you’ll even come close to having one.  All you know is the blankness of the beginning and that you’re scared shitless.

To put it another way – and as crazy as it might seem — sometimes the secrets of life can be simplified to a half century old voiceover from an old 1960’s TV show like “Star Trek.”

“Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

I’m no Trekkie but those are, I think, our marching orders.  Over and over again.  However, if you do run into any tribbles, it’s probably best to not say hello and just keep walking.