Chunky Move founder Gideon Obarzanek wonders what it’s all been about in FAKER (photo by Heidrun Lohr)
Joyce SoHo
155 Mercer St. between Houston & Prince Sts.
April 25-29, May 2-6, $22
212-242-0800
www.joyce.org
www.chunkymove.com
Since 1995, when he founded the Australian company Chunky Move, artistic director Gideon Obarzanek has been creating unique and unusual pieces that range from the extremely high-tech (Mortal Engine) to the charmingly low budget (I Like This) to the technologically cutting edge (Glow.) As he prepares to hand over the reins of the company to new artistic director Anouk van Dijk this July, he is saying farewell by starring in a production for the first time in ten years, the deeply personal solo show Faker. Beginning with Obarzanek sitting at a desk reading an e-mail he received from a young dancer, he roams about the stage, questions his abilities, looks back at his successes and failures, and wonders what it has all been about. Faker runs Wednesday through Sunday the next two weeks; you can find out even more about Obarzanek when he participates in a Q&A following the April 27 performance.
Carmen & Geoffrey is an endearing look at Carmen de Lavallade and Geoffrey Holder’s lifelong love affair with dance — and each other. The New Orleans-born de Lavallade studied with Lester Horton and went to high school with Alvin Ailey, whom she brought to his first dance class. Trinidadian Holder is a larger-than-life gentle giant who is a dancer, choreographer, composer, costume designer, actor director, writer, photographer, painter, and just about anything else he wants to be. The two met when they both were cast in Truman Capote and Harold Arlen’s Broadway show House of Flowers in 1954, with Holder instantly falling in love with de Lavallade; they’ve been together ever since. Directors Linda Atkinson and Nick Doob combine amazing archival footage — of Eartha Kitt, Josephine Baker, Ulysses Dove, de Lavallade dancing with Ailey, and other splendid moments — with contemporary rehearsal scenes, dance performances, and interviews with such stalwarts as dance critic Jennifer Dunning, former Alvin Ailey artistic director Judith Jamison, and choreographer Joe Layton (watch out for his eyebrows), along with family members and Gus Solomons jr and Dudley Williams, who still work with de Lavallade. The film was made on an extremely low budget, and it shows, but it is filled with such glorious footage that you’ll get over that quickly. Carmen & Geoffrey is screening April 24 at 7:00 at the Baryshnikov Arts Center, with a panel discussion to follow, as part of the “BAC Flicks” series, which continues May 30 with Matt Wolf’s 2008 documentary, Wild Combination: A Portrait of Arthur Russell.
Journalist Jill Bauer and news photographer Ronna Gradus take a fascinating look at how the availability of online pornography and the spread of social media are influencing mainstream culture in the poignant documentary Sexy Baby. Bauer and Gradus explore the lives of three very different female characters who have very different ideas about what it means to be female. Winnifred is an intelligent, thoughtful twelve-year-old girl living in New York City who likes to dress provocatively and uses Lady Gaga as a role model. “We’re, like, the first generation to have what we have, so there’s no one before us that can kind of guide us,” she says. “I mean, we are the pioneers.” Laura is a twenty-two-year-old North Carolina kindergarten teacher who has decided to undergo labiaplasty after a boyfriend complained about the size of her genitalia. “I just feel that it would be a huge turn-on to a guy to look like a porn star,” she admits. And thirty-two-year-old Nichole is a former porn star known as Nakita Kash who is now trying to start a family while making a living teaching pole dancing to women. “The adult entertainment world has completely infiltrated the mainstream,” she explains. “I do blame that on the digital age.” Bauer and Gradus follow the three main subjects around as they go about their daily business, resulting in a remarkably intimate portrait about the state of contemporary womanhood without making any grandiose statements or delving into politics and religion (and wisely avoiding talking-head experts), instead concentrating on Nichole, Laura, and Winnifred as they open up their lives and speak freely about their hopes and desires in a world flooded with TMI. Filled with intriguing dichotomies, Sexy Baby infuriates and titillates, frustrates and engages, while making you think long and hard about where we all are heading.
Writer-director Adam Christian Clark’s feature-length debut, Caroline and Jackie, has nothing to do with the Kennedys. It also turns out to be more of a fictionalized version of a conglomeration of reality-show television series than a coherent narrative, albeit one with some powerful, effective moments. Jackie (Bitsie Tullouch) at first thinks that her sister, Caroline (Marguerite Moreau), has come to visit her to celebrate Caroline’s birthday. But Caroline turns the tables on Jackie, instead throwing a surprise party for Jackie before changing gears once again and staging an intervention, claiming Jackie is a pill-addicted anorexic, which Jackie adamantly denies. Thrust in the middle is Jackie’s boyfriend, Ryan (David Giuntoli). The three of them spend a long, complicated, emotional night together, along with some friends, examining one another as well as themselves, reaching some rather unpleasant conclusions. Clark, who has directed the American version of Big Brother and the Chinese reality show Fashion Star, had the actors improvise much of the dialogue (based on a specific outline), resulting in a choppy story with incongruent lines and characters that are hard to like or even care about. Every time the film seems to be heading in a better direction, particularly in scenes featuring only Ryan and Jackie, it slips back, getting lost in terrain better left to Jersey Shore, The Real World, and, well, Big Brother. In his director’s statement, Clark, who has been based in Los Angeles since he was eighteen and is now thirty-one, explained, “In being truly honest, we have to admit that we are all vapid.” Actually, no we don’t.