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Fans of Don Shebib’s 1970 Canadian classic, Goin’ Down The Road, are in for a surprise of the pleasant variety. If, like me, you’ve been saying “They don’t make Canadian films like that any more,” then you will be thrilled to see Down The Road Again, as Shebib and a good number of the original cast revisit the story and give it an update truly worthy of its predecessor. Join Jayne Eastwood, the late-Cayle Chernin, Doug McGrath, and some talented newcomers for a return voyage in that unforgettable 1960 Chevy. You will love it.
Happy Thanksgiving! I've neglected my blog so long I couldn't recall the password. That's because I've been completing a new book. As I feel myself nearing the finishing line, it demands more and more time and attention. (Note to potential suitors: never marry a writer unless you like a lot of alone time.) In this case, I've been completing a second draft, not the final product. I put it to rest this morning. No doubt there'll be plenty of time to lose myself in a new draft quite soon.
Having fun with Paul Bellini around is a given. Taking over the Flying Beaver Pub last night, the former-Kids in the Hall writer performed his Flatus Maximus (it’s Latin, look it up.) Not exactly a performance piece, it consisted largely of Paul reading from his hilarious FAB columns (think Michael Musto sidelined in Toronto, as if that were possible), with an occasional side-splitting silly song (who knew!) thrown in for—what, even more comic relief from the already over the top comedy? Anyway, it was a quiet riot, culminating in the playback of one of the most awkward telephone interviews ever, as the intrepid Paul tried and failed to get some semblance of an answer to his quite reasonable questions from crotchety B’way legend Elaine Stritch, proving again that some things (and people) are beyond even the most laudable efforts, but not beyond comedy.
Went to the Met’s Die Walküre in HD tonight, part two of the Ring cycle production staged by Robert LePage. The set, referred to as “the machine”, was not as extensively used this time around, so the music took centre stage. James Levine’s conducting was nothing short of glorious. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated Wagner so much. Bryn Terfel’s (Wotan) voice doesn’t excite me, but his acting was terrific, as was Susan Voigt’s (Brünnhilde). The star of the evening, for me (and many of the audience) was the German tenor, Jonas Kaufmann (Siegmund.) In terms of vocal ensemble work, this may become the definitive Ring for years to come. Really superb.
I can scarcely believe my luck this summer: first kd lang, then Aretha, now Dame Helen Mirren and Jeremy Irons with conductor Lorin Maazel. The latter three appeared in a joint evening of Shakespeare in music and words at the BlackCreek Summer Music Festival under the stars. Mirren and Irons performed a mini-version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream integrated in and around Maazel’s glorious conducting of Felix Mendelssohn’s music with the dynamic and youthful Castleton Orchestra and Chorus. A knockout!
A night with the Queen of Soul: As many Torontonians know, Aretha Franklin was in town for a free outdoor concert, making up for time off due to a bout with cancer last year. It was hard to know what to expect from a 69-year-old, post-surgery Aretha, but if she thought she was fit to perform then I knew it would be something to see. So did thousands of others, but everyone was friendly despite the close quarters, even if you stepped on a toe or two. (The audience was massive: take all the white people who came to the free kd lang concert last week and then add all the people of colour who didn’t come but should have. A very big event.) The only genuine disappointment was the poor organization that saw a VIP tent with too many awnings and flags obscuring the view, while a giant screen was positioned so far off that you couldn’t watch the real show in tandem with the monitor. That was just plain dumb. But we were there to pay homage to the queen, not to bitch. The first act was a bit tame as she flew through her old hits for the sing-a-long fans, but by the second half (after some truly awesome entr’acte jazz from her band) her voice had warmed up and she raised the roof. A twelve-minute rendition of Bridge over Troubled Waters (a song that in other hands can be so saccharine it hurts) showcased her gospel-raunch side. And what a side! I’ve lived with Aretha records for most of my life, but I’ve never experienced the fiery excitement she generates with a live audience. From that moment on, the fun never let up and we knew we were going to get what we came for. Freeway Of Love was the last great highlight of the evening for me, though the show went on for another quarter hour, ending at eleven-forty. Thank you, Queen of Soul. Thank you, TO Jazz Festival. It’s been a great time to be in Toronto.
So Vancouver had hockey riots. (What’s the surprise? It’s a game about barely suppressed violence, after all.) Toronto, on the other hand, had a free k.d. lang concert. I can now die happy, having heard lang sing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah live. I can barely remember the last time I cried in public (Well, yes I can, but I won’t mention it here.) Somehow, over the past twenty years, lang has gone from kitsch lesbian hillbilly to classic Canadian icon, all without getting staid and boring. Watching her perform has to be one of the most rapturous experiences on record, Canadian or otherwise. And the Siss Boom Bang is one of the best backup bands around. A superb evening. Thanks, Luminato!
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