Tags Posts tagged with "Jeffrey Sanzel"

Jeffrey Sanzel

Michael J. Fox in a scene from 'Still.' Photo courtesy of Apple TV

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

“A short kid from a Canadian army base becomes the international pop culture darling of the 1980s—only to find the course of his life altered by a stunning diagnosis. What happens when an incurable optimist confronts an incurable disease?”

— Tagline to Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie

Few people do not recognize Michael J. Fox. Fox (born 1961) launched into the public eye with the sitcom Family Ties (1982-89), in which he played Alex P. Keaton, the conservative son in a liberal family. From there, his star rose quickly with the Back to the Future trilogy (1985-1990), followed by Teen Wolf (1985), The Secret of My Success (1987), Doc Hollywood (1991), and others. Then, in 1996, he returned to the small screen with Spin City.

Fox combined a youthful sureness with the charm of a latter-day Jimmy Stewart, a genuine aw-shucks quality absent of artifice. Even in lesser vehicles, he offered strong, grounded performances.

During the run of Spin City, Fox went public with his Parkinson’s disease diagnosis. He became an advocate and spokesperson, establishing the Michael J. Fox Foundation in 2000, a not-for-profit focusing on research for a cure. Throughout the early 2000s, he continued to work—mostly guest spots and a few recurring roles. His last major undertaking was the semi-autobiographical The Michael J. Fox Show (2013-2013), an NBC comedy in which he played news anchor Mike Henry who gave up his career due to the same diagnosis. Following his official retirement in 2020, Fox published a memoir, No Time Like the Future: An Optimist Considers Mortality. 

Michael J. Fox and his wife Tracy Pollan met on the set of ‘Family Ties’ in 1985. Photo courtesy of Apple TV

Fox received numerous nominations, and among his accolades are Golden Globes, Emmys, and People’s Choice Awards. He met his wife, Tracy Pollan, when she appeared as his girlfriend on Family Ties. The pair married in 1988 and have four children. 

Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie chronicles Fox’s life and career. It opens with Fox having spent a drunken night with Woody Harrelson. He finds the pinky of his left hand trembling, a harbinger of what is to come. The film embarks on a chronological telling of his story, with present-day Fox commenting on his rise to fame, stardom, diagnosis, and aftermath. First, he is shown as a child in constant movement, then as a reluctant student and “serial fender bender.” He dropped out of school and went to Hollywood with his father’s help. Given his diminutive stature, he landed a series of small guest spots as much younger characters. Finally, Family Ties changed his entire trajectory.

The film follows Fox through the highs and lows, medication, alcoholism (now thirty years sober), intense work schedules, critical successes, and box office disappointments. The actor is forthcoming about his courtship and marriage to Pollan, raising children, and realization of the importance of family, especially after his diagnosis. “I was the boy prince of Hollywood. But it was an illusion.”

Director Davis  Guggenheim (An Inconvenient Truth, He Named Me Malala, Waiting for Superman) creates a hybrid of straight documentary and something akin to Behind the Music via True Crime Network. Most of the film is a series of interviews with Fox, sitting at a table, talking directly to the camera. In addition, he interacts with his family and physical therapists. The rest of the documentary comprises film clips from his movies and television shows, sometimes shown in context, other times coopted for emphasis. 

In addition, Guggenheim films  stand-ins for Fox and others over-the-shoulder shots, at a distance, or blurred, with music blaring during these peripatetic sections. Whether they are for contrast or effect is hard to discern. 

Where Still succeeds is in the one-on-one conversations with Fox, which fortunately occupy at least fifty percent. The camera is placed straight on with no music or fanfare. The focus remains solely on Fox as he answers the most personal questions. Sometimes, he physically struggles. Other times, he reflects before coming back with a revelation or a quip. 

Throughout his illness, he has fallen many times, shattering his cheek and breaking his hand. Philosophically, he retorts, “Gravity is real. Even when I’m falling from my height.” He is seen falling—but also getting back up. Fox appears open, raw, and completely honest.

From the very beginning, the documentary is unflinching. Fox reveals himself as he is: constantly off-balance, with uncontrollable spasms and involuntary movements, moments of freezing, and the sense of what is permanently lost. But his humor bubbles to the surface. “If I’m here twenty years from now, I’ll either be cured or a pickle.”

At one point, he is asked what it is like to be still. He takes a moment, then responds, “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been still.” And while true, Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie captures not just the Hollywood icon but an intimate, bold, and uplifting portrait of an extraordinary human being.

The documentary is currently streaming on Apple TV.

'Shadows We Carry'

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Meryl Ain’s debut novel, The Takeaway Men (2020), focused on immigrants Aron and Edyta (Judy) Lubinksi and their twin daughters, Bronka and Johanna. Refugees from Hitler’s Europe, the family settles with Aron’s cousins in Bellerose, Queens. 

Author Meryl Ain

The absorbing story traced their struggles with adjusting to the new world and the burdens and guilt related to survival. Dealing with both the aftermath of the Nazi genocide and the rising Red Scare during the Cold War, The Takeaway Men offered a vivid portrait of a family in transition and ends in 1962.

Ain’s sequel, Shadows We Carry (SparkPress) picks up a year later for a brief prologue on the day of President Kennedy’s assignation. As the teenage Bronka states: “This is the end of the world … Nothing will ever be the same again.” 

In Shadows We Carry, Ain focuses on Bronka, the more serious of the twins. The narrative follows the young woman’s journey from the late 1960s to the early 1980s. Ain once again displays her deft gift for presenting the intersection of historical events and cultural awareness. 

The sisters are a portrait in contrast. Bronka studies history and political science, aspiring to a career in journalism. Johanna (called “JoJo”) studies music education but has no desire to teach. However, her musical theatre dreams are derailed by a pregnancy, leading to an alternately fulfilling and frustrating married life.

Bronka’s odyssey takes her through a range of personal and professional obstacles. A well-drawn character, complicated yet likable, she is a good but flawed individual, often getting in her own way—a case of wrong for the right reasons. Even with her strong Jewish identity, she tends to seek romance with unavailable men. The first is Ned, the Queen’s College newspaper editor-in-chief and a graduating senior. Later, she falls for a priest, the charismatic Father Stan. Even more importantly, Bronka represents the pull between career and homemaking: her passion for making a life in the news world versus her desire for a traditional family constantly battles. 

Shadows We Carry also emphasizes the age of rebellion, reflecting an era of burgeoning self-discovery. Bronka’s neighbor and lifelong friend, Mindy, a middle-class version of anti-establishment, confronts Bronka with a hard truth: “Look, my mother and Tina Rosen and her sisters will all end up in boxes. It’s up to you whether you do or not. I think both of you could go either way. But I sure as hell will not. I’m going to find a different path. But first, I have to find out who I really am.”

In search of self, Bronka is unsure of her niche. Too intellectually curious to accept a narrow conservative marriage, she is conversely uncomfortable with the free-love, drug-taking hippie element. She constantly faces less than thinly veiled chauvinism and misogyny. 

Ain’s gift is the ability to veer from domestic drama to social and political issues. Whether addressing the mother’s Catholic heritage but embracement of Judaism (or the priest’s mirrored journey), she delves into the psychological turmoil of her characters. 

Mother Judy clings to an outdated vision of what women can be, subsuming her dreams to the needs of her often taciturn and haunted husband, Aron. Residuals of the Communist Witch Hunt and the search for Nazi War criminals play out against the age of the Viet Nam War. 

Canvassing for Eugene McCarthy, along with the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy, are affecting milestones. The beginning of the AIDS crisis is touched upon in a subtle but powerful stroke.

An interesting event occurs in 1973 when Bronka covers the renaming of the Nazi streets in Yaphank’s Fatherland Gardens. She is accompanied by a photographer unaware of his father’s direct connection to Auschwitz. 

If The Takeaway Men focuses on the immigrant experience in the post-1945 world, then Shadows We Carry highlights the assimilating America of the 1960s and early 1970s. Its quick, taut chapters reflect the peripatetic and energetic pacing of the latter part of the 20th century. A book of identity, it asks the twin questions “Can you ever escape history?” and “Can you ever escape your history?” 

A smart and welcome coming-of-age novel, Shadows We Carry is available on Amazon.com.

Ashley Brooke and Bel Powley in a scene from 'A Small Light'. Photo from NatGeo

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

‘But even an ordinary secretary or a housewife or a teenager can, within their own small ways, turn on a small light in a dark room.’ — Miep Gies

No figure is more iconic than Anne Frank. Whether seen as an ordinary girl in extraordinary times, or a remarkable individual robbed of her potential, her short life and terrible death epitomize the darkest era of the twentieth century. And while her memory transcends decades, she should be remembered as a person with hopes and aspirations, feelings, and foibles. Anne Frank was not a symbol; she was a human being.

The Diary of a Young Girl—often called The Diary of Anne Frank—appeared in its original Dutch in 1947. The first English translation, Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl, was published in 1952. 

Bel Powley shines in her role as Miep Gies in A Small Light. Photo courtesy of Nat Geo

The diary was given to Anne as a thirteenth birthday present on June 12, 1942. She chronicled her life in this book and two school exercise books. On March 29, 1944, she listened to a London radio broadcast by the exiled Dutch Minister for Education calling for the preservation of “ordinary documents … simple everyday material” as a testimony to the plight of Dutch civilians under the Nazi regime. She began revising the entries with this in mind. Her final entry was on August 1, 1944, three days before her arrest and deportation. Miep Gies and Bep Voskuijl, two of the brave people who helped hide the Frank family, saved the loose pages of the manuscript. After the war, they gave the papers to the only surviving occupant of the attic, Anne’s father, Otto.

A stage adaptation premiered on Broadway on October 5, 1955. Adapted by Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett (supposedly handpicked by playwright Lillian Hellman), the well-received production emphasized the hopeful aspects, highlighting (but perhaps ignoring true context) the signature quote: “Despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart.” 

In 1959, this version was brought to the screen in the equally lauded version. It was not until 1997, when Wendy Kesselman revised and re-envisioned the play, there was an Anne Frank properly representing the true darkness and struggle, divesting itself from the earlier incarnation’s occasional saccharine. The BBC produced a television film in 2019 with an entirely new script.

Of the cinematic incarnations, the most powerful is Anne Frank: The Whole Story (2001). Due to a conflict between the producers and the Anne Frank Foundation, the creators were denied access to quote Anne Frank’s writings. Instead, according to producer David Kappes (in a private interview), the ninety-year-old Miep Gies was used as a primary source to tell Frank’s history. (Gies passed away in January 2010 at 100.) This account takes Anne beyond the annex, following her through deportation to the Westerbork transit camp, transport to Auschwitz, and finally, her death in Bergen-Belsen.

Gies told her story in the memoir Anne Frank Remembered: The Story of the Woman Who Helped to Hide the Frank Family (1987). Subsequently, she was featured in the Academy Award-winning documentary Anne Frank Remembered (1995). 

[The following is based on a viewing of the first two episodes of A Small Light.] 

Now, National Geographic has produced A Small Light, an eight part miniseries streaming on Disney+ and Hulu. This begs whether there is a need for another screen version of the story. If it is A Small Light, the answer is a resounding “yes.” 

Masterfully directed by Susanna Fogel (from a screenplay by Tony Phelan, Joan Rater, William Harper, and Ben Esler), A Small Light takes Miep Gies from the sidelines. It presents her center in a wholly realized and beautifully dimensional account. The series is an inversion of previous Anne Frank stories. Rather than the claustrophobic fear of being surrounded by the horrors of the outside, this is the terror of living day-to-day in a world with danger at every corner and every turn.

Episode one opens in 1942. Miep Gies (Bel Powley) bicycles with a frightened Margot Frank (Ashley Brooke) through the streets of an idyllic Amsterdam festooned with Nazi banners interspersed with “Resist” graffiti. Miep is attempting to get Margot through a Nazi checkpoint. The scene is taut, tense, and done in quick, sharp cuts.

Before they reach the front of the line, the action shifts back to 1933. After a night of drinking, Miep joins her large, adopted family for lunch, having slept until 2 p.m. Her frustrated parents suggest that if she cannot find a job, she marry her adopted brother (who, unbeknownst to his parents, is gay). Miep lives a leisurely, almost bucolic life. 

After an awkward interview, Otto Frank (Liev Shreiber) engages the unskilled Miep as a secretary. Brash and temperamental, she still learns the business and begins to find her place in the organization. Life goes along with Miep meeting her eventual husband, the shy Jan (Joe Cole), in a bar. 

On May 10, 1940, the Nazis invaded the Netherlands. Within five days, they had taken over the country. Laws change, and the harsh Nazi abuse transforms into greater crimes. (It is not until the middle of episode two that we see the brutality of the round-ups.) The infamous yellow star appears on clothing. 

Eventually, Otto shares the plan of taking his family, along with his employee Hermann Van Pels’ family, into hiding and asks for Miep’s help, to which she immediately agrees. However, Otto changes the moving date when his older daughter Margot receives deportation papers. The first episode returns to the opening scene as Miep gets Margot through the checkpoint and into the annex, the first glimpse of the hiding place.

The second episode shows the earliest days of the new life. On the inside, attitudes are already fraying as the Franks attempt to adapt. Miep must deal with the already frustrated and often frustrating individuals living like prisoners. She also faces the challenges of keeping the secret as well as finding food, ration books, etc. Husband Jan aids Miep but also begins his own journey to help the persecuted. This episode ends with the dentist, Fritz Pfeffer (Noah Taylor), completing the members of the attic.

The cast is uniformly exceptional. Liev Schreiber makes for a slightly mercurial but effective and compassionate Otto. Amira Casar’s Edith Frank is a stronger, more demanding Edith. Billie Boullet is an exceptional Anne, shining and passionate but grounded in reality. Ashley Brooke hits the right gentle notes as the reserved Margot. Joe Cole grows Jan throughout, going from reticence to strength with a charm that comes through.

But the center is Bel Powley’s exceptional Miep. She grows from the lackadaisical party girl and reluctant employee to a ferocious, committed portrait of real courage. Whether flirting with a butcher to get a better chicken or resigned to revealing the true situation outside the attic walls, her reality and depth are flawless.

From an educational standpoint, the series is invaluable. The current curriculum rightfully deals with turning bystanders into upstanders and changing the bullying narrative. Miep Gies reminds us never to stand by; as individuals, we must choose to make a difference. We must do more and must do better. For that alone, her story is beyond important. The fact that A Small Light is art presented with raw integrity elevates the message to a higher level.

A scene from 'Peter Pan and Wendy' Photo from Disney +

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Peter Pan traces his roots back to 1902. Created by Scottish author J.M. Barrie, the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up first appeared in The Little White Bird before being placed center stage in Barrie’s play, Peter Pan (1904). In many stage incarnations, Peter was most often played by a young-looking actress, notably Maud Adams, Mary Martin (the 1954 Broadway musical broadcast on television), Sandy Duncan, and Kathy Rigby. 

Alexander Molony as Peter Pan. Photo from Disney +

There are dozens of cinematic adaptations, both animated and live-action. The story has been revisited and reinvented from the 1924 silent film, spanning Disney’s memorable (and, for many, definitive) 1953 cartoon, to Robin William’s grown Peter in Hook (1991). Captain Hooks have included Boris Karloff, Hans Conried, Jason Isaacs, Stanley Tucci, and Dustin Hoffman.

Now, Peter Pan and Wendy arrives on Disney+. Based on the Barrie source and Disney’s animated feature, the film’s first half covers no new ground, with the opening scene remain predictably problematic. The standard exposition remains the same, showing the Darlings in the early nineteenth-century nursery. The children play pirates, resist bedtime, the mother sings a lullaby, etc. The new piece is Wendy, the eldest child, being sent away to boarding school, something in which she has no interest. Wendy is frustrated by life’s changes, and she makes the wish never to grow up. A vague nod towards the theme of time threads through the opening and carries lightly throughout. 

Ever Anderson as Wendy in a scene from ‘Peter Pan and Wendy’. Photo courtesy of Disney +

The first half of the film feels like a musical without the songs. Each section builds but never quite reaches a climax before shifting to the next moment. Because it offers little original to the well-trod story, the action treads water. However, director David Lowery (who has penned the screenplay with Toby Halbrooks) accelerates the plot by having the pirate’s capture of the children moved to their arrival in Neverland. This allows for a slightly more original second half with a new point of view. 

The emphasis in Peter Pan and Wendy is a message of female empowerment, with the most self-actualized Wendy to date. Here, the protagonist works with a misunderstood Tinker Bell and a re-envisioned Princess Tiger Lily. This Peter Pan is truly the story of Wendy Darling, and where it places this focus, it soars. In addition, there are as many girls as boys in Peter’s tribe, and even a few female pirates. The creators present an overall welcome diversity that feels in no way forced and celebrates both the freedom of fantasy and the changing times.

Jude Law as Captain Hook. Photo from Disney +

Also introduced is a revised history of Peter and Captain Hook. Revealed is the friendship between the young Hook—James—and Peter. James left Neverland to search for his mother, creating a schism between them. Hook failed to reconnect with his parent and was rescued and recruited by the pirates, quickly ascending to captainship. The narrative is a bit convoluted, but once clarified, it provides a certain understanding between the enemies and an almost cathartic resolution.

Alexander Molony is a subdued Peter Pan, stronger in the quiet moments but hesitant in the more bombastic. Perhaps, Lowery chose this approach to highlight Wendy’s independence and maturation. Ever Anderson’s Wendy starts hesitantly but builds in power, stature, and depth in the character’s arc. Anderson easily avoids precociousness, offering a likable, humorous, and resourceful center.

Jude Law presents a less flamboyant Captain Hook but cleverly mines the subtlety. His Hook is smoothly wicked yet introspective, genuinely bloodthirsty, and wholly believable, finally owning the character in his unique approach. The underlying sadness enriches his Hook/James. Barely recognizable, Jim Gaffigan eschews the expectation of an over-the-top Smee and leans towards charmingly underplaying. Alyssa Wapanatâhk and Yara Shahidi do their best with the underwritten Tiger Lily and Tinker Bell, with Shahidi’s final interaction with Wendy strongly resonating.

Jim Gaffigan as See. Photo from Disney +

The almost traditional screenplay has flashes of wit, but more would have been welcome. Peter Pan and Wendy is visually striking, with a darker but evocative palate provided by cinematographer Bojan Bazelli and production designer Jade Healy. The flying effects feel natural, and the sword fighting well-staged. Daniel Hart composed a score that neatly blends traditional “Disney adventure” with a hint of New Age. Cleverly, a running joke makes use of The Pirates of Penzance.

It remains to be seen where this version will land. Compared unfavorably to the popular Robin Williams — Dustin Hoffman Hook? Placed ahead of the disastrous 2014 live event (with Allison Williams and Christopher Walken)? Or left in the forgotten netherworld of the 1976 television special (with Mia Farrow and Danny Kaye)? In the meantime, a handsome, mostly engaging, but somewhat uneven Peter Pan and Wendy will fly across screens for the present.

Rated PG, the film is now streaming on Disney +.

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Honor the past. Embrace the present. Look to the future.

Beverly C. Tyler is the author of multiple works focusing on local history. These include Founders Day, Down the Ways—The Wooden Ship Era, and Setauket and Brookhaven History (all reviewed in this paper). Tyler now turns his eye to a detailed history of Setauket’s Caroline Episcopal Church, which is celebrating its 300th anniversary this year.

Front cover of book

The book is an excellent blend of the historical and the personal. In one- and two-page sections, Tyler covers everything from the church’s construction to its pastoral care ministry. Sunday school, past and present, and the church’s choir are presented. Tyler traverses the many milestones centered around religious, societal life: baptisms, confirmations, marriages, and funerals. The many facets of the church—Bible study, eucharist, caregiver and grief support groups—are all mentioned. Caroline Church is a rich resource for those connected to the church and may also serve as a model for those looking to preserve a civic organization. Detailed lists and a plethora of dates are neatly organized throughout the entire volume. 

The book shares letters from clergy alongside personal reflections. In his message, Reverend Canon Richard Visconti expresses his gratitude for his connection to Caroline Church: “Your faithfulness in worship, your extension of Christ’s healing touch to a broken world within the community, year after, is a testimony to the goodness and blessing of God … May Caroline Church continue to grow in its mission to help all live transformed lives for Christ.” The Rev. Nickolas Clay Griffith suggests to have “one foot planted in the Anglican tradition and the other foot working to … reach for the opportunities where we can be people of Christ in the world today.”  

Parishioners tell of what drew them to the church (or, in some cases, back to it). The theme of family is often celebrated. Given two full pages is “Caroline During COVID.” This chronicle shows how the church adapted and persevered in a challenging and difficult time where streaming and social distancing became the necessary norm. 

Back cover of book

Rev. Sharon Sheridan Hausman strikes a gardening metaphor in her piece, referencing growth in “vines,” “seeds,” and “root.” Colleen Cash-Madeira opens with the Swedish saying, “Even the devil gets religion in old age.” The twenty-nine-year-old then discusses church attendance as “exposure to a set of tools: faith, hope, compassion, community.” 

Tyler gives an in-depth but concise history of the inception of Caroline Church. In “How It All Began,” he starts at the end of the seventeenth century and continues through 1730.

Cleverly, the author has inserted a timeline ribbon across the top of each page. He begins on April 14, 1655, with the English settlement of the town of Setauket. The entries culminate in 2021, with the installation of Rev. Griffith; Camp DeWolfe’s celebration of its seventy-fifth anniversary (2022); and the church’s marking of its third century (2023).

And like with all of Tyler’s previous works, the book is replete with hundreds of photos as well as historical paintings and sketches. The images alone carry much of the church’s story. The last page is particularly fascinating: a re-imagined eighteenth-century prayer service, shown in six photos, including video projections.

Perhaps the best summation is in Henry Hull’s final couplets of An Ode to Caroline Church:

So here’s to the Clergy and Vestries, too

They have led all the flocks of communicants who

Have passed through the portal of dear Caroline

And have lived, loved and learned in a way most divine.

Copies of the book are available for sale at the Caroline Episcopal Church office, 1 Dyke Road, Setauket. For more information, please call 631-941-4245. 

From left, Rachel McAdams and Abby Ryder Fortson in a scene from the film. Photo by Dana Hawley/Lionsgate

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

No writer has been more heralded nor adored than Judy Blume. Author of over two dozen novels, she debuted with the children’s book The One in the Middle Is the Green Kangaroo (1969) and followed up with Iggie’s House (1970). But her third book—Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret—truly launched her career. Others include a combination of works for children (Tales of Fourth Grade Nothing, Otherwise Know as Sheila the Great, Blubber), young adults (Then Again, Maybe I Won’t, Deenie, Forever …), and adults (Wifey, Summer Sisters, It’s an Unlikely Event). 

 

Kathy Bates and Abby Ryder Fortson in a scene from the film. Photo courtesy of Lionsgate

Only a handful of Blume’s works have made it to the screen: Forever, Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great, Tiger Eyes, and a television series based on Fudge-a-Mania. Now Kelly Freemon Craig, who wrote and directed the 2016 coming-of-age dramedy The Edge of Seventeen, helms the big screen version of Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret. Craig has fashioned an agreeable, appropriately gentle, and predominantly loyal adaptation. 

The film opens with a montage of twelve-year-old Margaret Simon’s (Abby Ryder Fortson) last days at a New Hampshire girls’ camp. Upon her return to New York City, her parents, Barbara and Herb (Rachel McAdams and Benny Safdie), inform her that her father’s work promotion has enabled the family’s move to New Jersey. Unsurprisingly, Margaret and her paternal grandmother, Sylvia (Kathy Bates), are unhappy with the turn of events.

Quickly, though, Margaret settles into a suburban world of backyards and sprinklers. She is not so much greeted but assaulted by neighbor and fellow sixth-grader Nancy Wheeler (Elle Graham). Nancy, an alpha and mean-girl-in-training, gathers Margaret into her close and closed-friend group, Janie (Amari Alexis Price) and Gretchen (Katherine Kupferer). 

Margaret’s realm revolves around school, boys, and family. It is an analog world without the technical hurdles of later generations (with not even a television in sight). Often, the atmosphere has a sixties vibe—most notably Nancy’s Stepford mother (Kate MacCluggage), who seems a refugee from the 1950s. 

Abby Ryder Fortson in a scene from the film.Photo courtesy of Lionsgate

In the book, Margaret’s dilemmas were split equally between her religious identity crisis and her body’s burgeoning changes. When Barbara and Herb married, Barbara’s parents were so distraught over her having a Jewish husband they cut off all connection. Barbara and Herb decided to raise Margaret with no religion, telling their daughter to decide when she was old enough. Much of Margaret’s quest in the book is sampling Jewish and Christian experiences.

The struggle remains present in the film, but Craig emphasizes Margaret’s focus on her impending physical transitions. The girls’ discussions are neatly taken from the book, creating believable interactions. In fact, much of the dialogue—including the quartet’s memorable chant—is smartly lifted verbatim. 

The film and its tone occasionally nod towards twenty-first-century political correctness, but nothing hampers the storytelling. The biggest departure is Barbara leaving her job now that they have left the City. In the book, she is a housewife who paints less-than-successful pictures of fruit. Here, she is an edgier artist and art teacher searching for a place in this new life. At first, she tries to integrate into the new community but must ultimately find herself again. In doing this, Rachel McAdams’ Barbara is a more dimensional, if modern, character than her literary counterpart. 

Rachel McAdams, Benny Sadie and Abby Ryder Fortson in a scene from the film. Photo by Lionsgate

Abby Ryder Forston easily holds center in an honest and realistic portrayal of a preadolescent. Whether she is mooning over the boy who cuts the grass or asking God for guidance, she remains grounded and unshowy. McAdams, always strong, makes the most of the two sides of Barbara and connects with the character’s trials. Safdie is kind and present as the father, while Bates humorously blends West Side polish with Jewish guilt. Special mention of Graham, whose toxic delivery of the line, “I live in the bigger house up the street,” speaks volumes to Nancy’s self-assurance. Echo Kellum leans towards charming rather than bumbling as the first-year teacher, Mr. Benedict.

One surprising film deviation is Margaret’s lack of awareness regarding the schism between her mother and grandparents. The choice ratchets up the immediacy of the conflict with their visit late in the story. (The scene clumsily includes Sylvia and her beau, absent from the book’s confrontation.) While dramatic, it undermines Barbara and Herb’s honesty with their child. In addition, the bullying of the more physically mature outsider Laura Danker (subtle and pained as played by Isol Young) ends in a kinder, if less realistic, resolution. 

Had Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret been made fifty years ago—or even forty or thirty—its impact would have possessed more resonance. The film’s quaintness dulls some of the novel’s powerful edges, leaning toward nostalgia rather than reflection. However, one suspects viewing the film will be an experience for mothers and daughters (and granddaughters) to connect with a coming-of-age that has spanned multiple generations. Those looking to revisit a favorite tale told with integrity will welcome this faithful adaptation.

Rated PG-13, the film is now playing in local theaters.

By Julianne Mosher

You don’t have to be an avid reader of the classics to appreciate Theatre Three’s latest offering. The main stage production of Daniel Elihu Kramer’s Pride @ Prejudice is a mix of a telling of the 19th century novel written by Jane Austen and a clever modernization of the 1813 classic that explains the book with humor and wit. 

The story is of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy who fall in love all over again — this time filtered through the world of the internet. Modern voices interject and build on this classic love story in the form of blog posts, chat room discussions, quotes from film adaptations, and even letters from Jane Austen herself to create a delightfully postmodern view of 19th century England. 

Directed by Jeffrey Sanzel, the show opened on April 7 to a full house. While the cast is small (just five people) each of their personalities are big. Most of the actors play at least two characters who go between present-day and the book’s settings of Netherfield Park and Longbourn.

And each performer had the audience laughing. Christine Boehm (who plays Elizabeth Bennet) plays the protagonist well, leading with poise but also leads some laughs. Throughout the play, the actors make several references to the culture behind Pride and Prejudice, poking fun at the three major film adaptations (and a miniseries starring Colin Firth in the 90s).

Ashley Brooke’s rendition of the eccentric and dramatic Mrs. Bennet (who’s trying to marry off all five of the daughters —yes, there are five) is hysterical. Michelle LaBozzetta was able to switch between different characters with ease, including Jane Bennet, Caroline Bingley and as Jane Austen — which was another interesting part of the show.

While deconstructing certain scenes, the actors would recite real letters that Jane Austen wrote to her sister during her lifetime, noting how her personal life impacted the books she was writing. Not only was the play entertaining, but for people who didn’t know much about the author, you were able to get a bit of history, as well.

Andrew Murano played seven people and also did so skillfully. Each one varied — he played a doctor, a footman, Mr. Bennet, Mr. Bingley, Sir William, Mr. Wickham, Mr. Gardiner and Colonel Fitzwilliam —and when appropriate, he played them with humor. 

David DiMarzo, who is new to Theatre Three, played the charming and desirable Mr. Darcy, as well as Mr. Collins, and showed us that he needs to stay. His ability to play the dreamy love interest of Lizzie, but also the snobbish Collins was impressive to say the least. 

And if that sounds confusing to you, it might seem that way, but the performance on stage explains it better. While all five are in 19th century costumes, they do a great job of expressing themselves through their facial expressions and body language. They certainly give it their all. 

The set allows the audience to use their imagination. Three sets of doors are toward the back of the stage and is utilized often to show transitions between the settings and time periods. What’s also interesting is the use of a projector at the top of the stage that shows images of the houses they are currently in, or websites where “Pride and Prejudice” merch is on sale (it’s a joke).

Some jokes might go over your head if you didn’t read the book — so a quick read of a summary or even a refresher of the whole novel could definitely help — but it’s still enjoyable for those looking for a fun night out as this show was definitely not an easy production. Regardless of your knowledge of 19th century literature, this show is one for the books. 

Pride @ Prejudice is playing at Theatre Three, located at 412 Main Street in Port Jefferson, until May 6. Tickets are $35 adults, $28 seniors and students, $20 children ages 5 to 12. Wednesday matinees are $20. For more information or to order, contact the box office at 631-928-9100 or visit www.theatrethree.com.

By Heidi Sutton

You know its officially Spring when Peter Rabbit, Benjamin Bunny, Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-Tail, Mrs. Rabbit and the McGregors arrive at Theatre Three in Port Jefferson for The Adventures of Peter Rabbit. The  adorable show opened last week for spring break and runs through April 29.

Written by Jeffrey Sanzel and the late Brent Erlanson, the original musical is loosely based on one of the best-selling books of all time, The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter, and features all of the beloved characters in the story.

The audience is whisked away to the countryside home of Mrs. Rabbit and her four bunnies who live next to Mr. and Mrs. McGregor who spend the day tending to their pride and joy — their garden. 

While Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-Tail listen to their mother by staying inside and doing their chores, Peter Rabbit and his cousin Benjamin Bunny sneak out to steal from their neighbor’s garden again and again to satisfy their insatiable appetite for lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, parsley and string beans. The constant marauding finally wears the farmer’s patience thin and he plots his revenge.

Directed by Steven Uihlein, the cast of 8 is excellent and exemplifies the magic of live theater. Sean Amato and Steven Uihlein take on the characters of Peter and Benjamin, two comedic roles that provide quite a workout as they run through the theater to escape the “mean as a bear” farmer.

Samantha Fierro, Danielle Pafundi and Courtney Gilmore as Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-Tail spend most of their time looking for their wayward brother so he won’t get in trouble by their patient mother (Elizabeth Ladd) and often ask the audience if they have seen him. (“He’s right behind you!”)

Peter and Benjamin seem to be especially naughty and persistent this year and audiences will sympathize with the McGregors, wonderfully played by Liam Marsigliano and Alanna Rose Henriquez. 

With choreography by Sari Feldman, the musical numbers, accompanied on piano by Douglas Quattrock, are terrific, with special mention to “One More Time Around,”  “Run, Peter, Run!” and the hip hop number, “Peter’s Socks.” The final number incorporates all of the songs in a super mega-mix extravaganza.

In a brilliant move, the show takes advantage of the three sets of doors from the current mainstage production, Pride @ Prejudice, which, when opened, always reveals a surprise. Costumes by Jason Allyn are absolutely charming and wait until you see the lighting and special effects!

Souvenir bunnies in various colors will be sold before the show and during intermission and the entire cast will be in the lobby after the show for a meet-and-greet and photos.

Theatre Three, 412 Main St. Port Jefferson presents The Adventures of Peter Rabbit through April 29 with a special sensory sensitive performance on April 16 at 11 a.m. Children’s theater continues with Cinderella from May 27 to June 1, and Goldilocks & the Showbiz Bears from July 7 to 29. All seats are $10. To order, call 631-928-9100 or visit www.theatrethree.com. 

Florence Pugh and Morgan Freeman in a scene from 'A Good Person' Photo by Jeong Park/MGM

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

Zach Braff is best known for his acting work, most notably for his nine seasons as Dr. J.D. Dorian on the sitcom Scrubs. Additionally, his extensive work behind the camera includes producing, writing, and directing. The works encompass short films, television, and, most notably, the feature film Garden State (2004), a quirky but effective rom-com featuring Braff and Natalie Portman. Unfortunately, his follow-up, the domestic comedy-drama Wish I Was Here (2014), was not well-received.

Braff’s third offering, A Good Person, is a drama of dysfunction and addiction. The film opens with Morgan Freeman’s voiceover as he works on his model trains, wistfully proffering the idea that life is neither neat nor tidy. Then, the idyllic moment shifts to the raucous engagement party of Allison (Florence Pugh) and Nathan (Chinaza Uche). Allison sings an original song to her future husband, much to the delight of the guests.

The next morning, Allison drives her future sister-in-law and brother-in-law from New Jersey into New York City. Checking the map app on her phone, Allison involves them in an accident where her prospective in-laws die.

A year later, Florence is an unemployed pharmaceutical rep addicted to pills. She lives in a perpetual state of conflict with her mother, Diane (Molly Shannon), who lacks the insight or emotional resources to help her struggling daughter. Florence has run through her oxy, and none of her doctors will refill her prescription. After a failed attempt to blackmail a former colleague, she ends up in a bar where she smokes with two low-lifes with whom she had gone to high school. Florence has hit bottom.

She attends an AA meeting, running into Daniel (Morgan Freeman), the man who would have been her father-in-law. She leaves, but Daniel stops her, suggesting fate has brought them together. They form an odd bond that becomes a tenuous friendship. 

Retired Daniel was a cop for forty years and a drunk for fifty. Sober ten years, he grapples with raising his orphaned granddaughter, the now rebellious Ryan (Celeste O’Connor). He accepts that he does not know how to raise a teenager, having left that to his wife. The worlds collide as Allison and Ryan accidentally meet at Daniel’s house and also form a strained connection. Ryan shares her late mother’s feelings that Allison was the best thing to happen to her uncle Nathan. Ryan lets slip that her grandfather blames Allison for the accident.

The film is rife with revelations and the sharing of histories. An alcoholic father abused Daniel. In turn, Daniel became a blackout drunk, mistreating his own children. In an inebriated rage, Daniel beat Nathan so severely that the boy lost hearing in his right ear. Estranged, the adult Nathan and Daniel have only the slightest of relationships. 

While the film covers no new territory, the narrative contains the makings of a dramatic and interesting story. Sadly, the gap between intention and execution can be the distance between Perth Amboy and Perth, Australia. 

The film tackles difficult subject matters—guilt, addiction, withdrawal, forgiveness—but somehow manages to avoid depth. Director Braff works from his screenplay, which seems a patchwork of acting class scenes. The occasional smart quip—“the opiate of the masses is opium”—is lost among aphorisms and cliches—“Comparison is the thief of joy.” 

Daniel’s Viet Nam veteran cap is jaw-droppingly unsubtle. In a film brimming with life and death issues, the result is often tensionless and pedestrian. The metaphors—the model trains, Allison’s father’s watch, swimming, songwriting—even a haircut—are heavy-handed. 

However, while Braff the writer might have failed, he cast well and brought out strong performances. Florence Pugh finds the anguish and ugliness in Allison’s spiral. She is mesmerizing rawness in every moment, alternating between a hyper-aware ferocity and a disconnected stupor. Morgan Freeman is incapable of shoddy work and remains one of the most watchable cross-genre actors. While Daniel sits in the center of his range, he manages to nuance the darker moments, contrasted with Freeman’s often-seen “wise” humor.

Molly Shannon’s mother is a bit shrill, but her brittleness and immaturity are not misplaced. Chinaza Uche is given little more than shades of pain, but what he does is imbued with sincerity. Twenty-something Celeste O’Connor embodies the angry teenager, Ryan, and easily holds her own against Pugh and Freeman. She proffers fire, grief, and even joy, while hovering on the verge of implosion.

So much of A Good Person feels manipulated, if not downright manipulative. Ultimately, Braff confuses messy lives with sloppy filmmaking. 

Rated R, the film is now playing in local theaters.

Woody Harrelson, far right, stars in the new comedy, Champions. Photo by Shauna Townley/Focus Features

Reviewed by Jeffrey Sanzel

After being ejected for shoving the head coach, disgraced minor league basketball coach Mark Markovich (Woody Harrelson) goes on a bender, hitting a police cruiser. Given a choice between eighteen months in jail or ninety days of community service, he opts for the latter. His sentence is to work with The Friends, the local recreation center’s intellectually challenged basketball team.

“What do I call them?” Mark asks the judge. “I suggest you call them by their names,” the judge replies.

Therein lies the heart and head of Champions, a sweet, predictable, but sincere comedy. 

Woody Harrelson in a scene from ‘Champions’. Photo courtesy of Focus Features

Champions is based on Campeones, Javier Fesser’s 2018 Spanish film which was inspired by a team created with people with intellectual disabilities that won twelve Spanish championships between 1999 and 2014. 

Bobby Farrelly (working solo for the first time) takes a straightforward approach in directing Mark Rizzo’s workmanlike but satisfying screenplay, resulting in a simple but heartfelt story. Thematically, Champions trods no new ground. Mark is a man who “can’t stick” anywhere, bumping from job to job—Ohio to Greece to Turkey to Iowa—his inability to connect results from a combination of anger and almost terminal self-absorption. 

While working with The Friends, Mark is more transformed than transforming. As much as he affects the team, he learns to see the players as human beings—something absent from both his personal and professional lives.

Harrelson’s performance offers nothing surprising, but that does not make it ineffectual. He shows restraint, an ability to listen, and seems fully present. His metamorphosis from ambivalence (texting during their first game) to commitment (running up and down the sidelines) is obvious but acceptable. He manages to make Mark’s retreat from self-destruction believable. 

There are the inevitable plot bumps and the requisite speech about what it is to be a champion. A particularly clumsy comedic interlude involves raising money for the trip to Canada. But these are to be expected. Champions is a light narrative, not a revelatory documentary.

Mark becomes involved with Alex, player Johnny’s sister. An actor of a certain age, she tours in her van, presenting Shakespeare to middle school students. The Shakespeare piece integrates later in the film but is a bit forced. It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’s Kaitlin Olson makes Alex mildly tough and likable in a mostly limited role. Her fear of Johnny moving into a group home offers an alternate familial insight and provides her with her best moments.

The film triumphs in its small moments. The center’s director, Julio (beautifully methodical Cheech Marin), describes the players, and we are shown moments of their day-to-day lives. One works at an animal shelter; another is a master welder. These glimpses are gentle, tacit, and entirely real. Whether seeing them at work or home, these slivers are wonderfully honest and exposed without feeling intrusive. 

Woody Harrelson, center, with the cast of ‘Champions’. Photo courtesy of Focus Features

The soul and driving force of the film are the ten intellectually challenged team members, played not as victims or outsiders but as wholly realized individuals. Whether it is Casey Metcalfe as savant Marlon, expounding a wide variety of trivia, or James Day Keith’s Benny rehearsing a speech to request time off from work, they are riveting in their presence. 

Madison Tevlin is delightful as the team’s sole female, the no-nonsense Consentino. Kevin Iannucci mines Johnny for dimension and heart. The most powerful scene involves Joshua Felder’s gifted Darius. A car crash survivor, the confrontation with Mark addresses the horrors of DWI. If a bit facile, the validity cannot be denied.

Is Champions exploitive? 

For over a decade, Matt Nelson has worked for Evanston Special Recreation. He has coached basketball, track and field, powerlifting, swimming, volleyball, softball, and flag football. In addition, he has been the assistant athletics coach for Team Illinois at the 2013 USA Games (Seattle) and the 2022 USA Games (Orlando). 

In speaking with Matt on this question, he responded: “Champions is super realistic in its portrayal of a Special Olympics team with regards to their athletic abilities and the individual personalities of each athlete. Each one of my athletes comes from a different living situation—group home, living with parents, living on their own. The movie is no different and stresses how each athlete has a unique story to tell. My teams always succeed the most when they work as a team which Champions accurately portrays. And both my team and I loved the ending and thought it was PERFECT.”

The film’s climax occurs at the North American regionals during the Winnipeg Special Olympics. In agreement with Matt and his players, The Friend’s final shot has a reverberating emotional justice. 

Those looking for great depth and searing truth will find this a slight outing. But for a feel-good sports movie that gently celebrates a unique group of underdogs, Champions delivers. Ultimately, the moral comes not from Mark but from the team. “We play for each other.”

Rated PG, Champions is now playing in local theaters.