John Baldessari, “The Duress Series: Person Climbing Exterior Wall of Tall Building / Person on Ledge of Tall Building / Person on Girders of Unfinished Tall Building,” digital prints with acrylic on Sintra, 2003 (Ringier Collection, Switzerland / © John Baldessari)
Metropolitan Museum of Art
The Iris and B. Gerald Cantor Exhibition Hall, second floor
1000 Fifth Ave. at 82nd St.
Tuesday – Sunday through January 9 (open Monday, September 6)
Recommended admission: $20 adults, children under twelve free
212-535-7710
www.metmuseum.org
California-based artist and teacher John Baldessari helped put the capital “C” in Conceptual art. For more than half a century, the seventy-nine-year-old Baldessari has been creating a fascinating mélange of visual and text-based imagery, a vaunting vocabulary all his own incorporating paintings, found objects, photographs, videos, and an anarchistic philosophy into collages and installations that examine popular culture, sociopolitical ideology, and the making and perception of art itself. “Pure Beauty,” on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art through January 9, is an engaging retrospective of more than one hundred works from throughout Baldessari’s continually evolving career. “Cremation Project” houses the ashes from early paintings that he purposely destroyed in a mortuary. In the short film “I Am Making Art,” Baldessari repeats the title over and over as he rearranges himself in different positions, while in “I Will Not Make Any More Boring Art” he writes the title statement again and again, and the exhibition supports both declarations. He appropriates images from the news and Hollywood and adds unique touches in such pieces as “Violent Space Series: Two Stares Making a Point but Blocked by a Plane (for Malevich),” “Heel,” and “The Duress Series: Person Climbing Exterior Wall of Tall Building / Person on Ledge of Tall Building / Person on Girders of Unfinished Tall Building.” In such works as “Kiss/Panic,” “Man and Woman with Bridge,” and “Pelicans Staring at Woman with Nose Bleeding,” Baldessari juxtaposes images from different sources, resulting in brand-new noirish narratives filled with Hitchcockian delight. He often adds color elements to black-and-white photographs and collages, as in “The Overlap Series: Jogger (with Cosmic Event),” while color becomes the primary subject in such works as “Six Colorful Inside Jobs” and “Prima Facie (Fifth State): Warm Brownie / American Cheese / Carrot Stick / Black Bean Soup / Perky Peach / Leek.” Even when Baldessari comes off as simply cheesy or silly, as in a series of framed pictures intentionally hung unevenly, it’s still fun to look at. “Artists are better at finding a way to kill their time,” Baldessari once said. There are a lot worse ways to kill some time by immersing yourself in this beguiling survey at the Met.
Britain’s Royal Family is notoriously protective of their personal lives, and for many years they were somehow able to keep from the public the fascinating story of Prince Albert’s difficult battle against a severe stammer. A serious stutterer himself as a child, screenwriter David Seidler (TUCKER: THE MAN AND HIS DREAM), who looked to the man known as Bertie as a role model, uncovered the dramatic tale and even got permission from the Queen Mum herself to pursue a cinematic version, as long as it came out after her death. So after gestating for decades, THE KING’S SPEECH is now a reality, a thrilling film that follows the prince’s (a marvelously vulnerable Colin Firth) struggle to find his voice as his aging father, King George V (Michael Gambon), falls ill and the prince of Wales (a wonderfully snide Guy Pearce) jeopardizes the possibility of his wearing and keeping the crown by falling in love with flirtatious, twice-divorced socialite Wallis Simpson (Eve Best). After having explored numerous ways to cure him of his debilitating and embarrassing stutter, Bertie and his loyal wife, Elizabeth (the resplendent Helena Bonham Carter), turn to an odd, failed actor, Australian speech therapist Lionel Logue (a pitch-perfect Geoffrey Rush), who uses extremely unusual methods that eventually force Bertie to reexamine his childhood while also preparing for a future that could put him on the throne as the country goes to war. Director Tom Hooper (THE DAMNED UNITED, HBO’s JOHN ADAMS miniseries) keeps the tension mounting as Bertie gains more and more public responsibility and his stage fright grows; the scenes between Firth and Rush in Logue’s rather low-rent basement office are thoroughly mesmerizing, a pair of bravura performances built around the slightest mouth twitch from Firth and knowing looks from the craggy-faced Rush. The strong cast also includes Derek Jacobi as Archbishop Cosmo Lang, Jennifer Ehle as Logue’s wife, Myrtle, Timothy Spall as Winston Churchill, Anthony Andrews as Stanley Baldwin, and Claire Bloom as Queen Mary. The only drawback is Alexandre Desplat’s overly melodramatic score, which insists on squeezing unnecessary, treacly emotion from a story where words take center stage.
Brooklyn native Darren Aronofsky, writer-director of the brilliant PI (1998) and REQUIEM FOR A DREAM (2000) and the muddled mess THE FOUNTAIN (2006), scores a major takedown with the marvelous comeback film THE WRESTLER. Former boxer Mickey Rourke, who made a name for himself in such 1980s films as DINER, RUMBLE FISH, THE POPE OF GREENWICH VILLAGE, 9 1/2 WEEKS, and BARFLY, stars as the Christ-like figure Randy “the Ram” Robinson, an aging professional wrestler who was the sport’s biggest name in the 1980s but is now a washed-up has-been living in a trailer park wrestling for embarrassingly small paydays at tiny local venues, still lured by the love of the sparse crowds and the respect of his opponents. After suffering a heart attack following one of his matches, the fifty-something Ram is suddenly faced with a life outside the ring. He tries to get back in his daughter’s (Evan Rachel Wood) life, attempts a relationship with stripper Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), and even gets a regular job in a supermarket, but the possibility of returning to the ring for the twentieth anniversary of his biggest match ever, his 1989 battle against the Ayatollah (Ernest Miller) in Madison Square Garden, weighs hard on his mind. Winner of the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival, THE WRESTLER, shot in an arresting grainy style, is a masterfully told tale with multiple layers, with the Ram’s potential comeback mimicking Rourke’s own return to his acting glory days. Rourke, who won a Golden Globe and was nominated for an Oscar for his effort, is such a natural in the role that it is hard to believe it was not written specifically for him; in fact, Nicolas Cage was first attached to the project. (Bruce Springsteen’s title song, which plays over the closing credits, took home the Golden Globe for Best Original Song but failed to garner an Oscar nod.) The film is set in the real-life world of Combat Zone Wrestling and the Ring of Honor, featuring such actual wrestlers as the Necro Butcher, who has a thing for barbed wire and staple guns. The heart-wrenching, beautiful, brutal film is screening at the Walter Reade Theater on January 5 at 6:15 as part of the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s two-day series, “Darren Aronofsky’s Dreams and Nightmares,” and will be followed by a conversation with the director. The brief festival, being held in conjunction with the release of Aronofsky’s latest, BLACK SWAN, begins on January 4 at 6:30 with the harrowing REQUIEM FOR A DREAM and continues at 9:00 with the ambitious flop THE FOUNTAIN. Aronofsky’s creepy mathematical debut, PI (π), concludes the festivities at 9:15 on January 5.
Based on the novel by Joseph Kessel (BELLE DE JOUR), Jean-Pierre Melville’s 1969 WWII drama ARMY OF SHADOWS got its first theatrical release in America a few years ago, in a restored 35mm print supervised by the film’s cinematographer, Pierre Lhomme, who shot it in a beautiful blue-gray palette. The film centers on a small group of French resistance fighters, including shadowy leader Luc Jardie (Paul Meurisse), the smart and determined Mathilde (Simone Signoret), the nervous Jean-François (Jean-Pierre Cassel), the steady and dependable Felix (Paul Crauchet), the stocky Le Bison (Christian Barbier), the well-named Le Masque (Claude Mann), and the unflappable and practical Gerbier (Lino Ventura). Although Melville, who was a resistance fighter as well, wants the film to be his personal masterpiece, he is too close to the material, leaving large gaps in the narrative and giving too much time to scenes that don’t deserve them. He took offense at the idea that he portrayed the group of fighters as gangsters, yet what shows up on the screen is often more film noir than war movie. However, there are some glorious sections of ARMY OF SHADOWS, including Gerbier’s escape from a Vichy camp, the execution of a traitor to the cause, and a tense MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE–like (the TV series, not the Tom Cruise vehicles) attempt to free the imprisoned Felix. But most of all there is Ventura, who gives an amazingly subtle performance that makes the overly long film (nearly two and a half hours) worth seeing all by itself. ARMY OF SHADOWS is back at Film Forum for a special one-week return engagement December 29 – January 4.