Liao Zhai Rocks!

The Theatre Practice

Drama Centre Theatre

Saturday

For a collection of supernatural stories dating back to the 17th and 18th centuries, The Strange Tales Of Liao Zhai continue to exert a strong stranglehold on the imagination.

There have been adaptations aplenty, ranging from Ching Siu Tung’s classic A Chinese Ghost Story (1987) on film to TVB’s Dark Tales (1996) on the goggle box.

The Theatre Practice has now added a twist to the plot by turning Liao Zhai into a rock musical with original songs by hit-makers composer Eric Ng and lyricist Xiaohan.

Playwright and co-director Wu Xi has also distilled its colourful cast of characters in hundreds of tales into several key archetypes – philandering scholar Sang Xiao (Ric Liu), captivating vixen spirit Ying Ning (Joanna Dong), wandering ghost Feng San Niang (Celine Rosa Tan) and earnest Taoist exorcist Cheng Ban Xian (Project Superstar 2 finalist Sugie).

Sang Xiao falls for Ying Ning but later succumbs to the wily charms of Feng San Niang. When Sang Xiao is cast into the underworld, it is Ying Ning who risks everything to rescue him even as Cheng Ban Xian is hunting her down.

The cast members handled their roles well and Liu and Dong exuded an easy chemistry. He had a deft touch for light-hearted comedy while she held one’s attention as the impish, mischievous and foxy Ying Ning.

Tan got to show off her lovely pipes while Sugie contributed some well-timed comic relief as the bumbling exorcist. Radio 100.3 deejay Huang Wenhong was unrecognisable beneath his make-up and in his imperious get-up as King Yama, lord of hell.

What was commendable about the production was the way the various elements – costumes, set, sound design and lighting – all came together in service to the story. Even little details such as the transformation of Ying Ning’s father (an excellent supporting turn by Chongqing native Xu Bin) into a fox were able to evoke a response from the audience.

As for the all-important music, Ng and Xiaohan’s numbers were by turns energetic and thundering and then melodic and emotive, though it could be difficult to make out the lyrics without the aid of the surtitles.

Highlights included Show Time, which led into an engaging game show-like finale held near the border between hell and the land of the living; and the closing ballad, Embrace.

Alas, certain melodies were overused.

Amphibian, which was written for local singer Tanya Chua by the duo, was given a make-over with new lyrics. It helped audiences familiar with pop music to be instantly drawn into the musical. Unfortunately, it kept cropping up at intervals and it began to seem as though Ng had simply run out of time to write new tunes.

Also, some of the lessons about relationships and loyalty were a tad unconvincing as the musical did not quite hit the mark at some key epiphanic points.

Still, that should not take away from the fact that Liao Zhai Rocks! is an entertaining show that starts off as a light-hearted romp and ends up as a sweet story about true love.

As in the original tales, the humans came off mostly as selfish and weak-willed, while the spirits were the self-sacrificing and loyal ones.

The tales’ continued popularity is due to their continued resonance and author Pu Songling’s satire of human society still has zing and bite today.

(ST)

Island Song

Tang Xu

My Lonely Planet

Chet Lam

Rum Hee

Shugo Tokumaru

Sometimes, things slip through the cracks, particularly when it comes to indie and import-only titles. But good music deserves to be heard and it is worth the effort to track down these titles at CD shops or on online stores.

China singer-songwriter Tang Xu is only 22 but she is already on to album No. 3. There is a lilting warmth to her voice and her songs are intimate, unvarnished affairs.

On the title track, she croons wistfully: “Island song, drift along with the wind/Take my tears away as well”. Her voice is a soothing balm even though her heart is sore and aching.

There is also a touching simplicity and sincerity to her lyrics on songs such as Mom, Thank You: “Mom, don’t be afraid/I won’t let you go to the doctor alone/Mom, your smile is so beautiful/You must have had so many suitors in your youth.”

Perhaps her music philosophy is best espoused by Making Music Is Being With You: “Let’s make this life more beautiful together/Even if there is a little sadness/It also shimmers brightly.”

While stylistically more diverse, the double-CD Mandarin album from Hong Kong’s Chet Lam is equally cohesive. This is the prolific singersongwriter’s ninth record since his debut in 2003 and he returns to his favourite theme of travel.

Opener Victoria pays homage to his home and asks: “Whose home are you and who is your home?” Lam then takes us on a trip around the world on the Outward Bound disc with the bouncy groove of Shanghai, New York, the jazzy noir of English number Last Exit To Brooklyn and the evocative Dublin.

On Visa.Time Difference.Air Mileage, he laments over a light-hearted melody: “Visas remind you time and again that the world is not your home.”

Disc two is titled Homeward Bound, and in Homesick, he asks: “Is it me creating the journey or the journey creating me?” There are no easy answers here, though the questions themselves can be beguiling.

Lam’s lyrics are an integral part of his songs, but in Japanese singer-songwriter Shugo Tokumaru’s case, they really do not matter as the music is so gorgeous and emotionally direct.

The stirring Rum Hee features Tokumaru’s trademark use of sparkly instrumentation that has been lovingly layered. Alaska is gently bucolic and buoyant rather than icy while Inatemessa is a more experimental piece for toy piano and voice.

The EP also comes with alternate versions and remixes as well as an accompanying DVD with a couple of music videos and footage of Tokumaru’s 2008 American tour.

It serves to satiate some of the hunger for new material since 2007’s Exit until the album Port Entropy is released in Japan next month.

As disparate as these various offerings are, they share one thing in common – they take you to places you have never been. And soon, you will not want to leave.

(ST)

Shugo Tokumaru

Esplanade Recital Studio, Last Friday

It is impossible to recreate Japanese singer-songwriter Shugo Tokumaru’s albums in a live setting. Working with 50 or so instruments, he created densely textured soundscapes that are simply a sheer pleasure to lose oneself in on Exit (2007), L.S.T. (2005) and Night Piece (2004).

At the sold-out gig, he played the guitar while four other musicians played the drums, the toy piano, the accordion, various percussion instruments and a whole lot of bells and whistles.

Exact replicas were clearly out of the question but that did not diminish one’s enjoyment because the child-like sense of wonder and spirit of joyful discovery in his music were all there.

Coming across like a shy, earnest boy, the petite Tokumaru did not say much in his tentative English and there was no need to when he conjured up music that made you smile in delight, then tugged at your heartstrings and made your pulse race. It mattered not one whit that his songs were in Japanese and that most of the audience had little idea what he was actually singing about.

In one key respect, watching him live was preferable to listening to the CDs as one had the thrill of seeing the incredible dexterity of his finger-work on the guitar, such as when he flung himself into Parachute at breakneck speed and it was exhilarating to see his fingers racing along the instrument.

He had another surprise in store when he switched to the ukulele for the encore and sang British synthpop band The Buggles’ Video Killed The Radio Star. Somehow, with his exaggerated emphasis on the line “You are a radio star”, he managed to tickle the crowd’s funny bone.

Tokumaru live ended up being a rather different experience from Tokumaru on record, and happily, they are both to be cherished.

(ST)

Vashti Bunyan

Esplanade Concert Hall, Last Friday

It is remarkable that British singer-songwriter Vashti Bunyan’s musical aesthetic has remained so strikingly consistent over the years.

She released her debut folk album Just Another Diamond Day in 1970, thought it was a failure and then disappeared from the scene entirely until Lookaftering came out 35 years later.

In the interim, musical trends came and went, and she has gone from singing about the pain and joy of love and wanderlust to singing about her children. Yet, songs from the two albums blended into one seamless whole.

Backed by three musicians who played the guitar, violin, flute, accordion and piano, she created bucolic music that would not have sounded out of place in, say, 16th-century Elizabethan England. And her voice, ethereal and gossamer-light, was a thing of fragile beauty in the sparsely filled hall, its whispery vulnerability echoing the delicacy of human connection.

Within the confines of such a tightly defined sound, she was able to pour her life into song and the soft-spoken mother of three told the audience the story behind each composition.

She revealed a charmingly self-deprecating sense of humour, saying that Feet Of Clay was about “how I can’t dance”, and also poked fun at the fact that her music struggled to find an audience back in the day: “Train Song was released as a single in 1966 and nobody ever heard it.”

Things took an unexpected turn when Just Another Diamond Day was re-released in 2000. She became muse and mentor to purveyors of the neo-folk movement such as Devendra Banhart and eventually had the opportunity to put out another record and perform live.

It was touching when she said: “I’ve always dreamt of life on the road and now my children are grown and I’m back on it, and it’s lovely.”

For sharing her happiness, sadness, hopes and dreams through the finely-wrought beauty of her music, the appreciative audience thanked her with a standing ovation at the end of the evening. It was also as if to say: “Welcome back.”

(ST)

Disgraced film-maker Jack Neo has defiantly said that he might consider making a film based on the scintillating events of recent weeks. His previous movies include the comedy Money No Enough 2 (2008) and the body-swapping fantasy Just Follow Law (2007).

The story so far:

Model Wendy Chong dropped the first bombshell about Neo when she revealed that they had a two-year affair. The 22-year-old helpfully provided colourful details of what, where, when, and how, though the why remains elusive.

Then actress-singer Foyce Le Xuan, 29, and French student Maelle Meurzec, 21, came forward and accused Neo of hitting on them.

Later, unsubstantiated reports linked the director to at least 10 other women.

Dramatic highpoint:

Neo, 50, appeared with his wife Madam Irene Kng at a press conference on March 11. It created more controversy when his wife collapsed and he did not apologise.

Given the abundant material, LifeStyle humbly proposes some suggestions on the different directions a big-screen outing might take.

HONEY NO ENOUGH

Comedy

Hong Kong’s Raymond Wong hams it up as a womanising director who is rejected by an unending stream of actresses with names such as Foxie and Saucie.

He finally finds happiness in a family sedan with model Wendie (brash comedienne Patricia Mok) after promising to enter into a three-month relationship with her.

The film ends with a dose of morality when the philanderer is found out but gets a second chance when his wife forgives him. There is a preachy message about wayward husbands and sacrificial wives and everything ends happily.

Except that the film is an unmitigated flop.

Soundtrack: MC Hammer’s U Can’t Touch This splicing in Zou-zou-zou-zoukai! (Go go go go away!) from the press conference.

Sponsor: Tinted windows and curtains for cars

HURT LOCKER

Drama

Spurned mistress Wendie (former MediaCorp actress Fiona Xie) and sexually harassed actress Foycee (freelance actress Lynn Poh) deal with the pain and fallout of the entire affair.

A tense highlight is the showdown between Wendie and director Jackie and his family where everyone, and everything, blows up.

Soundtrack: Wendie’s anthem is a mash-up of You Don’t Bring Me Flowers and All By Myself.

Sponsor: Smudge-proof mascara

I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE

B-grade exploitation

Hell hath no fury like a woman who has been sexually harassed. Foycee, Foxie and Saucie takes things into their own hands and hunt down the lecherous boss who laid his grubby fingers on them.

Soundtrack: Mariah Carey’s Touch My Body with the line “I will hunt you down” played up in the remix.

Sponsor: Anti-spitting campaign

BEING WOMAN

Fantasy

A gender-swapping gambol in which Jackie (Gurmit Singh), the most lascivious boss in Singapore, JB and some say Batam, switches bodies with aspiring actress Wendi (Fann Wong).

This is a breakout role for Fann who gets to play both sexual harassment victim and then a crass boor who hits on other women when Jackie is in Wendi’s body.

Soundtrack: Man! I Feel Like A Woman

Sponsor: Calling cards with low roaming rates

I NOT STUPID LEH

Arthouse

A beleaguered film director (Jack Neo) hits upon the perfect publicity plan for his new film. He pretends to get embroiled in a sex scandal but soon loses control of how the story is being played up.

Worse, he discovers that he has a doppelganger who has been having tawdry affairs in cheap hotels by impersonating him.

At the end, he wakes up and realises that it was all a bad dream. Then he reaches for a copy of the newspaper and sees his face on the front page.

Soundtrack: The Great Pretender, Man In The Mirror

Sponsor: Tonics to improve brain power and bed mattresses guaranteed to provide restful sleep.

(ST)

Kings of Convenience

Esplanade Concert Hall/Thursday

They proclaimed, softly, with their debut album in 2001 that Quiet Is The New Loud. Since then, Norwegian folk-pop duo Kings Of Convenience have steadily stayed the course even if the new acoustic movement has waxed and waned.

Erlend Oye and Eirik Glambek Boe’s low-key approach was reflected in how they casually strolled onto the stage which held four guitars and a grand piano.

Over the gentle strumming of guitars, Boe sang the sombre opener My Ship Isn’t Pretty from their latest album Declaration Of Dependence (2009), while Oye’s delicate falsetto blended harmoniously.

As the liner notes for the record helpfully pointed out, this was how they usually sang together with Boe taking the lead with his lower, lightly textured voice and Oye chiming in with a brighter tone on the higher registers.

Thus began a mellow, melodious and mellifluous evening. Watching them perform live, it became clear that apart from the vocals intertwining, there was also a dialogue going on between the two guitars as the two singer-songwriters plucked and strummed along.

Both of them also had their turns on the piano while Oye surprised the full-house crowd by imitating a trumpet during Peacetime Resistance. He also paid tribute to rock band Big Star’s recently deceased Alex Chilton with a moving rendition of Thirteen.

For the most part, Oye and Boe were so smoothly in sync that it was surprising to learn that they did not prepare a set list as they “like to keep themselves nervous”.

If they were, it did not show. Instead, they displayed a dry sense of humour when they engaged in conversation. Announcing that “earthquake” changes had taken place in the band since they last played here in 2006, they proceeded to cheekily swop guitars for three songs.

They encouraged audience participation by having their fans snap their fingers and also getting them to sing along on the chorus for Know-How, off their second album Riot On An Empty Street (2004).

Unfortunately, it was a lacklustre response and Oye sounded a little vexed when he said that only in London had it been this bad.

Perhaps stung by his comment, there was an enthusiastic reaction when Oye asked the crowd to stand up. The energy level went up noticeably during the rollicking Boat Behind and the more uptempo Misread.

The encore for the 100-minute-long show featured the exquisite Homesick, the jangly jauntiness of Toxic Girl and ended with fan request Cayman Islands.

I could not help but feel though that their concert here had been more enjoyable. Somehow, the vibe was different then, sweeter and more innocent, and their joy at performing here was irresistible.

Still, there is no denying the allure of “two soft voices blended in perfection” and with their beautiful tunes and lovely harmonies, the Kings quietly, but firmly, held court.

(ST)

Fear No More

A-Do

Olivia

Olivia Ong

Music Mantra

Monochrome

A friend who had heard the first plug on the radio wondered why in the world local singer A-Do was singing about denim jeans (niu2 zai3 ku4). Truth is stranger than fiction as he is actually crooning about a Crying Ox (niu2 zai4 ku1).

Anecdote aside, this is a rather puzzling choice for a lead single for the local singer who has been focusing his energies on the China market in recent years.

The inclusion of a Hokkien phrase in the chorus harks back to Stefanie Sun’s Cloudy Day. But whereas the latter’s refrain was a well-known folk ditty, the couplet here, “An ox is being sold for five thousand, want to use five thousand to buy an ox”, is more likely to furrow eyebrows.

Eight years after his debut album was released, A-Do faces a crucial mid-career hurdle. His husky voice is no longer a novelty but a familiar fact and he needs to break new ground in order to remain relevant.

This is something he is well aware of. At the Singapore Entertainment Awards 2010 at The Float@Marina Bay last Saturday, he performed his best known hits He Must Have Really Loved You and Hold On. The thing is, though, they were from his first two albums which came out in 2002.

Unfortunately, Crying Ox sounds like it is trying too hard while the rest of the album does not generate much excitement. Werewolf comes across as gimmicky while The Trail could pass for a theme song from a dated gongfu series.

I Wanna Go Home is one of the rare tracks that evokes some genuine emotion perhaps because it taps into something real for A-Do.

Despite the album title, I am afraid this is not the breakthrough he needs.

While A-Do has been charging ahead in China, Olivia Ong has been jazzing things up in Japan. The local lass made her successful debut there in 2005 with A Girl Meets Bossanova and has now signed with a Taiwanese label better known for its Mandopop acts such as Yoga Lin and S.H.E.

Interestingly, she continues to sing in English even though she had previously recorded Like A Swallow, the Mandarin theme song to the hit MediaCorp series The Little Nyonya.

The self-titled album begins promisingly with You And Me, which was composed by Dick Lee, with lyrics by Ong. The sweet song is the perfect showcase for her breezy and soothing vocals.

Bittersweet, the other original number, feels slight in comparison and is also saddled with clunky lyrics: “Oh, it’s friends we’ll remain till the end of the day/Platonic doesn’t change a thing for me.”

Disappointingly, the rest of the album is an inoffensive selection of songs, including I Feel The Earth Move (no, I didn’t), which is politely rendered and veers dangerously close to muzak territory.

What is offensive is the take on Luka, Suzanne Vega’s classic song about an abused child. Here, it has been inexplicably reworked with an upbeat arrangement. Shudder.

The final local offering this week comes from new group Monochrome. They alternate between Mandarin and English on their album Music Mantra with female vocalist Alia penning most of the Mandarin songs and drummer Darren Karma composing in English.

This band of five musicians certainly have their hearts in the right place. They are behind Heart Rock, a non-profit initiative to reach out to the less fortunate through music.

Some of their youthful energy is captured on the record but it would help if there was greater variety in the music, beyond the rock tunes flavoured with buzzing guitars.

Also, the lyrics tend towards the prosaic and generic, such as on Drop Me A Sign: “So I sit here alone/Thinking back on the times/When you used to be mine/That’s when I started to cry.”

Monochrome’s raw, earnest effort could have done with a splash more colour.

(ST)

Harmony

Sa Dingding

Sa Dingding, who was born in Inner Mongolia, sings in Mandarin, Sanskrit, Tibetan and even her own self-created baby-talk language.

It sounds suspiciously precious but the marriage of electronic beats and ethnicinspired music works surprisingly well even if her voice can be more schoolgirl shrill rather than earth-mother rich.

The beguiling first track Ha Ha Li Li begins with the gentle jangling of bells and then over a throbbing synth line, her voice floats in and builds up to a full-throated ululation.

It is paired with fable-like lyrics about a utopian state of nature: “Legend says that sky and earth were joined together as one, never to be separated/Hardworking men and mystical animals lived in the caves.”

The titles alone of the other songs, Pomegranate Woman, Blue Horse and Little Tree/Big Tree, point to a strong association with the natural living world, adding to Sa’s earth-mother vibe.

Steer clear though of the howlingly bad Lucky Day in which she breathily mangles pretentiously portentous lines in English such as “To live outside of time is to be free/Have a nice day”.

Harmony was out of whack on this one.

Shall We Dance? Shall We Love?

Hotcha

Anchored by the sparkly Big Occasion and the funky Enlarged, this third album from Crystal, Winkie and Regen offers slickly packaged Cantonese dance pop.

The manufactured girl group – they were put together by the record label – want to venture beyond their signature fast songs though, so we also get slowerpaced numbers such as Have Feelings For Me.

The accompanying bonus DVD featured a somewhat spotty live performance so they might want to think about working on their vocals. They could even try some harmony work instead of simply singing in unison.

After all, with Twins mounting a comeback after a two-year hiatus resulting from Gillian Chung’s involvement in the Edison Chen sex scandal, the competition among girl groups is about to heat up.

WU FA WU TIAN

Lena Yang

Who gives a flying kick that newcomer Lena Yang is a dancer with a background in martial arts?

Apart from inspiring the odd lyrical reference and an awkward pun for the album title which plays on the idiom for lawlessness, doing splits and wielding wushu moves can’t jazz up the aural experience of an album.

Pugilistic girl needs more than a gimmicky handle to stand out and a so-so voice taking on blandly passable songs just won’t cut it. It is a worrying sign when the calculatedly commercial duet Curved Moon with Gary Chaw is one of the stronger tracks here.

And despite the moniker, she is styled as either a playful showgirl or teasing nymphet in the lyrics booklet.

With multiple personas in the mix, one would have expected the album to show more character.

(ST)

Nodame Cantabile: The Movie

Hideki Takeuchi

The story: Orchestral conductor Chiaki (Hiroshi Tamaki) and aspiring pianist Nodame (Juri Ueno) are pursuing their musical dreams in Europe. He needs to prove himself with an upcoming concert while she wants nothing more than to perform on the same stage as him.

First the manga, then the TV adaptation and next, the big- screen wrap-up.

Nodame Cantabile follows a well-trodden path that romantic comedy Boys Over Flowers (2008) and school drama Gokusen (2009) have recently taken in Japan.

One of the things these films have to decide is whether they want to broaden the audience base beyond those who were fans of the small-screen offerings.

The answer here is a clear no. There is no sense of history of Nodame and Chiaki’s relationship or how they got to Europe.

You would have to already be a fan to know that they met at a music college in Japan, fell in love and then moved to Paris for him to start a career as a professional conductor while she continued her piano studies at a conservatory.

What is even more discordant is the introduction of supporting characters from the TV series in the final spool, which feels like a shout-out to pander to fans.

There is also a problem here with the wildly varying tone.

The introductions to well-known pieces such as Ravel’s Bolero and Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture and the explanation detailing the difference between the French and German bassoons give off a Classical Music 101 vibe.

The rest of the time, the film feels like a live-action cartoon.

When characters blush, their cheeks turn a fervent shade of pink and Nodame has elaborate fantasy sequences featuring animated dancing teddy bears.

Sometimes, this over-the-top approach works, as in a scene of her cooking a pot of dubious and lethal curry. For the most part, it feels overdone and Nodame comes across like an idiot savant rather than an endearingly eccentric pianist.

Death-metal comedy Detroit Metal City (2008) proved that it was possible to maintain manga’s outlandish tone and yet have characters who feel real and believable, but Cantabile is unable to strike that balance.

In addition, the story here is weak. Faced with a ragtag patchwork orchestra filled with wacky one-note characters, will Chiaki be able to transform the ensemble into a musical force to be reckoned with? Oh, the suspense.

Since there is not much drama there, there is instead a last-minute rift between Nodame and Chiaki leading to an abrupt ending that sets one up for Part Two of the big-screen conclusion.

But by that point, one is too dissociated from the dissonant offering to care.

(ST)

Resistance, Book 1

Carla Jablonski and Leland Purvis

In Quentin Tarantino’s film, Inglourious Basterds (2009), the resistance effort against the Nazis during World War II was a colourful and violent campaign which involved double-crossing agents, scalping and blowing things up.

The resistance recorded here is at the other end of the spectrum, with ordinary folks risking their lives with acts of quiet heroism.

Paul Tessier and his sister Marie are living in a village in the “free” zone in the south of France, carved out after an armistice agreement between the French and the Germans on June 22, 1940.

The shadow of the war looms large over their childhood and encroaches directly on their lives when the parents of their Jewish friend Henri Levy disappear without warning one day.

The Tessiers come up with a plan to keep Henri safe from the Germans and this leads to Paul and Marie’s eventual involvement in the underground resistance movement.

By looking at the horrors of war through a child’s point of view, writer Carla Jablonski brings added poignancy to a subject that can seem overly familiar.

The frame of reference is strengthened by a clever device, the incorporation of sketches by the fictional Paul into the narrative.

Ironically, those rough drawings end up being more evocative than the rest of the artwork by the self-taught Leland Purvis.

Faces, in particular the eyes, are not his strong suit and this distances one from the rather straightforward, if well- meaning, story.

Jablonski’s note at the end makes the point that hindsight is always perfect and terms such as resistor and collaborator were much less clear-cut then.

Instead of black and white, there were ambiguous shades of grey and it was by no means obvious what was the right thing to do.

If only the graphic novel had captured more of this moral complexity.

If you like this, read: The deeply personal and moving Alan’s War by Emmanuel Guibert, about a young American soldier’s experiences during World War II.

(ST)

The Last Station

Michael Hoffman

The story: Near the end of his life, Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy (Christopher Plummer) creates a new religion in which he espouses egalitarianism and celibacy. His friend and fierce champion of the cause, Vladimir Chertkov (Paul Giamatti), bitterly battles Tolstoy’s wife Sofya (Helen Mirren) over his will and legacy. Valentin Bulgakov (James McAvoy) is the idealistic young man caught in the middle when he is sent by Vladimir to serve as Tolstoy’s assistant.

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. This famous first line from Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina (1873-1877) announces the tragedy that is to follow in the novel and in this film.

After almost 50 years of marriage, Tolstoy and Sofya know exactly how to push each other’s buttons and theirs is a tumultuous relationship.

Despite being a count, he is against the concept of private property and is planning to gift his works to the public after his death.

She is bewildered by what she sees as a betrayal of his family and constantly harangues him about his new will.

While Sofya has grounds for concern for herself and her children, it is also clear that she is not an easy woman to deal with. At one point, Tolstoy chides her: “You don’t need a husband, you need a Greek chorus.”

At the same time, there is a deep and enduring connection between the two, one that extends to a playful sensuality in the bedroom.

Mirren goes from shrewish to vulnerable on the turn of a dime and has been nominated for an Oscar for Best Actress. She had previously won for the titular imperial, if less imperious, role in The Queen (2006).

Her sparring partner Plummer plays Tolstoy as a lovable eccentric and has got a nod for Best Supporting Actor, even though there are shades of his last role in Terry Gilliam’s fantastical adventure The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus (2009).

Working with Jay Parini’s 1990 biographical novel of the same name, director and scriptwriter Michael Hoffman also gives the viewer a fascinating look at celebrity culture circa 1910.

Tolstoy was no unknown, starving writer but a literary giant whose every move was closely photographed and chronicled by the media. His spats with Sofya, in particular, were fodder for the paparazzi mill.

For all the shenanigans and almost farcical family drama underway, The Last Station feels scattered. Its focus is all over the place as there is also Bulgakov’s burgeoning romance with the free-spirited Masha (Kerry Condon) and his divided loyalties to Chertkov, Tolstoy and Sofya to tease out.

The relationship between Bulgakov and Masha seems to be meant as a counterpoint to the one between Tolstoy and Sofya but the thinly sketched characters make the link less than compelling.

What remains powerful is seeing how love can sour and how it can bring people together as well as tear them apart.

(ST)

Up In The Air

Jason Reitman

The story: Ryan Bingham (George Clooney) flies around firing people for a living. He has been tasked with showing the ropes to young upstart Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick), who wants to change the way things are done. On the personal front, he bonds with fellow frequent flyer Alex Goran (Vera Farmiga) and decides to invite her to his sister’s wedding as his date.

I f there was an Oscar given out for casting, Up In The Air would definitely be a front-runner. The tricky thing here was to get the audience interested and invested in the story of a person who, frankly, is not very likeable.

After all, who better to paint as a villain in these still uncertain economic times than someone who fires people for a living?

Enter George my-middle-name-is-charming Clooney. The actor first came to attention as Dr Doug Ross on the hospital drama ER, which he starred in from 1994 to 1999. He left at the height of his popularity to take a stab at the big screen and to prove he was more than just a pretty face. He chose his roles carefully, alternating between commercial flicks such as romantic comedy One Fine Day (1996) with more challenging fare such as the war drama, Three Kings (1999).

Having honed his acting chops, he turns in a finely tuned performance here that makes you root for Ryan. The surface charm is still there and it draws one in. But beneath that is a touching portrait of a man who, as the tagline puts it, is ready to make a connection.

As a road warrior who spends over 300 days of the year away from home, Ryan is a man who has no meaningful relationships. Sure, he has the airport routine down pat and he has even distilled his outlook on life into a glib philosophy about the physical and emotional baggage people lug around.

But he is a stranger to his own family and the awkward moments at his sister’s wedding illustrate this.

Clooney, who picked up the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor in 2006 for the political thriller Syriana, has received a nod for Best Actor for deftly underplaying this latest role.

As the enthusiastic reformer who soon realises she is not as tough as she thinks she is, Kendrick turns out to be adorably vulnerable while Farmiga brings a hard-edged sexiness to the role of the cynically practical Alex. They do a good job fleshing out the script which was co-written by Jason Reitman and based on the 2001 novel of the same name by Walter Kirn.

This is not the first time that the film-maker is tackling a prickly topic. He put the spotlight on spin in Thank You For Smoking (2005) and on teenage pregnancy in Juno (2007) and left an impression with his deliciously acerbic sense of humour.

Here, he raises questions about what a globalised and efficient economy means and the price it exacts and makes it relatable through Ryan’s story.

Pity, though, that he also dials down the caustic wit and Ryan gets an epiphany that life’s “better with company”. It seems rather pat but Reitman is too canny to traffic in sentimentalism, and Ryan comes to terms with who he is and what he does in a clear-eyed ending that keeps the film grounded in reality.

(ST)

in::music - Peggy Hsu

Esplanade Recital Studio

Last Saturday

There was a welcome whiff of winter at singer-songwriter Peggy Hsu’s gig.

After all, it was chilly back in Taiwan and the 29-year- old confided that she was still celebrating Christmas as she loved festivals.

It’s Snowing In Germany, off her second album Peggy’s Wish Box (2007), was accompanied by visuals of a fir tree and a blanket of white. She also sang several numbers from her latest album, the seasonally titled Snowman (2009).

Her lilting vocals were as clean as freshly fallen snow and she was ably backed by a drummer, a guitarist and a bassist. There was also a cello added to the mix and the warm, melancholic strings heightened the drama on tracks such as Fly (the insect, not the action) and chill-out dance number Downfallen Aristocrat.

Even Hsu’s dressing evoked colder climes, as the elfin singer had on a cloak of black and grey stripes and comfy-looking boots.

She was at her most moving when she sang about the simplicity and strength of love in the beautifully spare You Love Me, while a harmonica solo underscored the sweet sentiment of the lullaby-like You Are In My Heart.

This was followed by a cover of Butterfly, which she had produced for local singer Joi Chua.

In return, Chua taught her the Singlish term “steady pom pi pi” which Hsu endearingly used to praise the audience when they gamely clapped along during Romantic Solitude.

The mood might have been wintry but temperatures were far from frigid, thanks to her radiant smiles and the warmth of the full-house crowd.

The only trace of bitterness over the six years she was silenced as a singer because of a contractual dispute with her previous record label came when she sang Lunatic, a track into which she had poured out her frustration.

But she had clearly put that unhappy period behind her and she also showed a sunnier side of her personality in the sprightly spring of Tick Tick Tick and the bossa nova-influenced Sunlight Lover.

After hearing from fellow musicians such as Cosmos People about their great experiences here, the gamine Hsu was clearly chuffed to be performing in Singapore herself. She joked that she now had bragging rights since she sold out two shows.

The set ended with the vocally demanding Balloon.

The song soars high and also requires excellent breath control. As Hsu sang and played the keyboard, it brought back memories of the music wunderkind who made her debut with that song back in 2001.

She had a treat for the audience during the encore as she trotted out White Wedding, her first single that was promoted in Singapore.

It is a track she seldom performs nowadays but “if I don’t sing this, I will go back to Taiwan with regrets”.

The 80-minute show ended appropriately with Fine, the touchingly tender title track from her third album.

Outside, it was sweltering, but in here, it was winter, it was warm and it was fine.

(ST)

in::music – The Carrchy

Esplanade Recital Studio

Last Friday

It said The Carrchy on the ticket but one could have been forgiven for thinking it was a show by another band.

On their debut album Sunshine Over The City (2007), female singer-songwriter Keli and producer Fly concocted electro-pop that showcased her delicate and ethereal vocals that were reminiscent of Heavenly Queen Faye Wong’s.

The title track was shot through with an airy lightness yet enveloped in sadness. But the two had greater ambitions than simply mining this vein of sunny melancholia. Over the course of the record, they proved to be adventurous musicians who were willing to take unexpected twists and turns.

In a live setting, the duo decided to go for a more muscular sound and added a drummer, a guitarist and a bassist to the line-up. Unfortunately, this only served to pummel Keli’s voice into submission.

The pixie-ish singer struggled to make herself heard and also had problems with pitch. At one point, her brows furrowed in concentration as if straining in competition against the music. It made watching them a somewhat stressful experience.

They never seemed to settle down completely after that shaky beginning and transitions between songs were clumsily handled.

There was also little audience interaction as Keli was not one for much banter while the others barely uttered a word. While introducing their new song Ripple, she admitted that they were reserved people who did not know how to express themselves when they liked someone.

She added self-deprecatingly: “I think we’re so boring.”

The switch to acoustic guitar on this and another new song provided an all-too-brief respite, as the reduced volume and the melodic mid-tempo numbers finally gave her voice room to breathe.

It seemed rather odd that the new material was headed in the opposite direction of the harder edged sound that was unleashed for most of the night.

Still, this was probably a good thing as the rock band persona was only convincing in parts. It worked, for example, on the track Red, where Keli seemed to let loose a little instead of being engaged in battle against the music.

Despite covering more than 10 songs during their 65 minute set, they inexplicably omitted Sunshine Over The City. Perhaps they were saving it for an encore that the three quarter filled recital studio was not exactly hankering for after a disappointing showing.

While the new songs were promising and boded well for The Carrchy’s next record, as a live act, they were very much still a work in progress.

(ST)