Fiennes and Okonedo: Antony and Cleopatra on Fire

I just spent the past three plus hours transported to Rome and Egypt along with Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, in the guises of Ralph Fiennes and Sophie Okonedo. Director Simon Godwin has created a modern, yet still timeless world for Shakespeare's characters to spring to vivid life in, and while overall the cast was excellent, with superb performances by (nearly) all, the show is aptly named for this formidable couple. Shakespeare did well with his titles, eh ? 

Fiennes' Antony is one of surface bravado but with deep and myriad underpinnings of ego, self doubt, jealousy, delusion, loyalty and genius. An interesting, and telling choice, was to portray Antony as an alcoholic, subtly but effectively putting his choices and actions in a light I'd never considered before. When Caesar sends Thidius to "steal" Cleopatra, and seeing through Caesar's intent, toys with the boy, he begins kissing her. Antony staggers in, waving a half empty bottle of Bulleit bourbon (my old favorite!) and his rage seems fueled by the whisky, orders the boy whipped and beaten, and unleashes his rage upon his queen, including what sounds like a liberty taken with the line "Ah, you kite!" (you can imagine what's in its place). Fiennes moves like an aging dancer, elegant one moment, clownish the next, crawling on the floor, all with abandonment of regard of to how he appears. He simply (or not so simply) . . . just "Is."

As his Cleopatra, Sophie Okonedo is . . . formidable seems too slight a compliment for her performance. As many shades as Fiennes' Anthony presents, Ms. Okonedo seems to go even further. She is regal, elegant, sexy, a swaggeringly dangerous beauty, loud of voice and character. She gives such depth to a character already complex on the page that it is difficult not to be overwhelmed by her, which is as true of the viewer as it is of the many characters in the play. 

While their scenes alone and with others felt daringly theatrical, together Fiennes and Okonedo created fire. The Johnny Cash/June Carter song lyrics "We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout" kept springing to mind. The pair almost seem to have a secret language in each other's company that goes beyond words and gestures and straight to the passion and soul of their partner. Godwin had a gift in the pairing of these two formidable actors and the result of their work together is thrilling, almost always on edge and, even for someone knowing the play well, full of constant, welcome surprise,  

Some criticism was made of the initial run (back in 2018) of the length of the play and how Godwin's production - setting each scene in its own locale, rather than a unit set - added unnecessary stretching to an already long work. Similarly, criticism abounds about how Shakespeare knew not how to end this play, a good half hour between the deaths of Antony and Cleopatra. Nonsense. We've moved into an era where plays are frequently shorter than ever, while we easily spend three hours at the cinema watching planets explode, with trite dialogue wanly delivered by beautiful actors afraid of their voices, in films with quick cuts geared toward those with Attention Deficit Disorder. This is not Shakespeare's fault . . . it's ours. If one can give oneself over to the glory of language that speaks beyond the obvious, that is rendered from the hearts and minds of superb artists, on a stage that serves all of it up splendidly, i can think of no better use of a few hours of one's time.  

The film of this live performance is available on several pay streaming platforms presently, and, happily as of today, free on YouTube. Go watch it. Now.  

The Menu: A Meal To Die For

 I just returned from watching my new favorite Christmas movie.  Okay, it's not about Christmas, but it is a gift of laughs and horror - and I got to see it Christmas day.  

The Menu is, hands down, among the most uncategorical flicks I've ever seen.  Social commentary, art, black (the blackest) comedy, horror, thriller, revenge . . . all take their places and each part, like the well constructed menu of the title, works in concert to complement the entirety of this, oh, too fabulously insane meal.  

Using the world of haute cuisine to present this morality tale, written by Seth Reiss and Will Tracy, director Mark Mylod skewers the super wealthy and turns it more into haughty cuisine.  In his hands the sublime and the ridiculous walk hand in hand, sometimes uncomfortably for the viewer, but really, quite perfectly.

Hawthorne is the brainchild restaurant of egotistical genius Chef Slowik, a restaurant on an island, with but a single seating of 12 diners each night, at the cost of $1,200 per head.  Naturally, the wealthiest, snobbiest, as well as poseurs and wannabes vie to dine there.  On this occasion, Chef has hand selected a dozen obscenely wealthy foodies, a mixture of old money, food snobs, a bad, narcissistic actor, a  well respected food critic and her editor, and a trio of youthful Wall Street punks.  

Pretentiousness runs in both the front and back of the house, along with insults, rudeness, rule breaking and social faux pas.

It's impossible to really review this movie without giving away critical details that make it so . . . delicious.  Sorry, but that IS the first word that comes to mind here.  The cast is a perfect ensemble, mostly equally balanced but for three performances that must be singled out. 

As Elsa, Chef Slowiks' "enforcer" - guide to the experience and mistress of ceremonies, Hong Chau is a force of nature.  Efficient to a fault, direct and lacking in anything resembling reasonable warmth she is chilling and terrifying in her way.  And an absolute delight. 

Anya Taylor-Joy (who impressed the world in "The Queen's Gambit") is Margo, the put upon and put down date of obnoxious foodie and human cartoon Tyler (Nicholas Hoult).  She's the most relatable character - one hopes - to the viewer.  She is splendid.

Ralph Fiennes as Chef Slowik, turns in yet another sensationally complex role, and, for me, one of the best performances of his career.  The very essence of calm and order he is at once proud yet disillusioned, and, is he perhaps, dangerous as well?  Difficult to say, but oh, what fun he must have had creating this egotistical monster.

As with every other aspect of The Menu, the look, the feel, the sounds of the restaurant, the score and design of the island all serve the Big Picture, and what a gloriously vain, eye-opening picture it is.