In the now-shuttered world of musical theatre the name “Hamilton” is said in hushed reverential tones. The groundbreaking show, which mixes-and-matches hip hop, R&B, pop, soul and traditional show tunes to tell the story of American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton, was called “the phenomenon of the season, perhaps of a generation,” by Forbes. Its appeal to a younger audience, who packed NYC’s Richard Rodgers Theater night after night, gave Broadway a desperately needed shot in the arm and at one point the show was responsible for more than 5% of the Broadway districts total gross.
A new, filmed version, headed by creator Lin-Manuel Miranda, offers up a chance for people who couldn’t afford to blow a mortgage payment on tickets to the original production, to watch the show from the comfort of their Disney+ stream.
The movie, shot in June 2016 at the height of “Hamilton”-mania is anything but hushed or reverential. The show, which features a diverse cast including Black, LatinX and Asian actors to tell the story described as being about “America then, as told by America now,” is passionately political, raucously rebellious and emotionally deep. “Just like my country, I’m young, scrappy and hungry,” Miranda sings in a phrase that could be about the musical as much as it is Hamilton’s personality.
A toe-tapping history lesson, the show details the American Dream life of Hamilton, from an outsider born to unwed parents on the Caribbean island of Nevis to war hero to George Washington’s Revolutionary War aide, and, as first Secretary of Treasury under Washington’s administration, the founder of America’s economic system. It’s a bootstrap story about legacy, reputation, honor and if that wasn’t enough, there’s an extra-marital affair and, of course, the fateful duel with Aaron Burr.
Director Thomas Kail, who also directed the show’s Off-Broadway and Broadway productions, keeps the camera work to a minimum, simply and effectively capturing the show from a front row center perspective. It’s handsome work that tries to preserve the integrity of the live presentation while still creating a kind of cinematic experience.
As far as the show goes, what the filmed “Hamilton” presents is a moment in time when the musical lived at the very center of pop culture. The original cast, including Miranda, Phillipa Soo, Leslie Odom Jr., Daveed Diggs and Jonathan Groff among many others, are working a peak form. As a document of a special show the filmed version doesn’t add anything to the presentation, but perhaps that’s the point. Miranda’s daring, genre busting show speaks for itself, often with beautiful tongue-twisting wordplay, and doesn’t need flashy cinematic theatrics to bolster what is already a provocative and timely story of creating a union where none existed.
“Blindspotting,” the debut film from director Carlos Lopez Estrada, filters an essay on privilege, gentrification and violence through the lens of one relationship. Colin (Daveed Diggs) and Miles (Rafael Casal) have been friends since childhood but still have much to learn from one another.
Set in Oakland, California the bulk of the action takes place over the course of Colin’s last three days of probation on an assault and battery charge. Living in a halfway house, Colin works as a mover, with best friend Miles, for his ex-girlfriend Val (Janina Gavankar) and has a strict curfew of 11 pm. He’s trying desperately to stay out of trouble but Miles, a loudmouth who carries a gun, is a loose cannon, always on the edge of blowing up the situation. When Colin witnesses a cop shoot an unarmed African-American man in the back he’s plagued by nightmares and an increasing sense of trauma and dread. A situation at a party that escalates out of control forces Colin to assess his place in the world, or at least, his place in a rapidly gentrifying Oakland.
“Blindspotting” is a happily undisciplined a movie. Raw and brimming with ideas, it’s an exciting look at contemporary life that kicks preconceive notions of storytelling to the curb. Co-writers and co-stars Diggs and Casal weave a story that bristles with provactive ideas. Funny one moment, tragic the next, it confronts the viewers ideas not only on the narrative form of the storytelling but the stereotypes so often used to portray people of colour in movies.
Director Estrada builds tension all the way through leading up to a surreal showdown that brings the story into sharp focus.
Despite many stylish flourishes “Blindspotting” feels authentic. Perhaps it’s because of the warm camaraderie between Diggs and Casal or perhaps it’s because of the sense of nuance given to large scale issues of race, loyalty and class.
“Mistress America,” the new Noah Baumbach farce, is a small gem, a movie so lovingly crafted and cast I’m tempted to pull out the Film Critic’s Big Book of Superlatives to adequately find words to describe it.
Like many of the director’s previous films it’s a New York-centric story, focussing on two characters, aspiring writer and Barnard College freshman Tracy (Lola Kirke) and her soon-to-be stepsister Brooke (Greta Gerwig). Brook is a much-needed breath of fresh air in Tracy’s stale college experience. She’s a few years older, has a zest for life Tracy has never experienced before, and, perhaps most importantly, inspires the young writer to do her best work. “There’s nothing I don’t know about myself,” she says, “and that’s why I don’t need therapy.”
Brook’s goal of opening a restaurant looks like it’s about to be sidelined when her rich boyfriend breaks up with her, taking his investment with him. Desperate for cash she convinces Tracy and two friends (Matthew Shear and Jasmine Cephas-Jones) from school to accompany her as she faces her fears and hits up an ex (Michael Chernus) and his wife (Heather Lind), a woman Brook calls her nemesis, for seed money. Secrets are revealed and lives are changed in a comedy of manners that would make Ernst Lubitsch proud.
At a scant 85 minutes this is a firecracker of a movie. Sharply observed, it’s an arch look at growing up, growing old (Brook feels over-the-hill at age 30) and the pressures that come with the passing of time. “Sometimes I think I’m a genius,” says Tracy’s friend Tony, “and I wish I could just fast-forward to that moment so everyone can see why.” Brook and Tracy speak in a cavalcade of words, volleying ideas and schemes back and worth.
Kirke is a naturalistic anchor for Gerwig’s flights of fancy, but they fit together like puzzle pieces.
The effervescent chemistry between these two is the heart of the film, but as more characters enter and the farce escalates the movie crackles with mad energy. Like early Woody Allen it feels like it’s riding the edge of going off the rails but is kept straight and true by Baumbach‘s rock solid direction.
“American Mistress” is unabashedly smart, funny and joyful. It’s a story that exists in it’s own carefully constructed world but peel back the layers and it has much to say about female mentoring relationships and the responsibilities inherent in those relationships. It’s about friendship, but above all, it’s about entertaining the audience.
