Mad Max Fury Road: the Ballet

The Mad Max crew rushes back to the Citadel

On Friday, 9/14/18, I woke up with a headache. Then my cat threw up under the bed. I managed to get to work on time. There was an exciting development, with Manafort flipping, but what really jump-started my day? A tweet from San Francisco Ballet about a performance some of its dancers were in: a ballet inspired by Mad Max: Fury Road. I love ballet. I love Mad Max: Fury Road. There were only two performances: that night and Saturday night, which I wouldn't be able to make.

I have never bought a ticket so fast. Somewhere in the digital dash for a Fury ticket I absorbed that principal Frances Chung was one of the SF Ballet dancers, but it was only after I purchased my general admission ticket that I saw that two of my other favorites, Dores André and Jennifer Stahl-Weitz, were performing as well, along with Luke Ingham and three principals from Alonzo King LINES Ballet: Adji Cissoko, Babatunji, and Michael Montgomery. How had I not known about this before Friday? I followed both Frances Chung and Dores André on Instagram, but somehow despite my social media addiction, was not paying it enough attention.

My headache continued, impervious to meds or caffeine. But I was determined, and after work I hoped on the T, stopped for a quick pizza dinner in the Dogpatch neighborhood, and then continued to the Midway SF, an arts space in an industrial area near Islais Creek.

An abandoned something or other nearby

The crowd was definitely younger and hipper than most ballet crowds, but there were plenty of older folks willing to come out in the middle of nowhere to see such illustrious dancers. (Or maybe I'm prejudiced - the well dressed Boomers could have also been hardcore fans of George Miller's dieselpunk masterpiece with zero connections to ballet.)

The doors opened at 7pm (there was no indication of when the performance would start, and a last-minute Facebook query went unanswered). Inside the dark, maze-like complex was a stage-in-the-round connected by a catwalk to a stage for the musicians. There were multiple bars. There was an attached cafe with more alcohol and food. There was a VIP room. I came alone and I'm not cool, so instead of socializing and drinking, I got a water from the bar, plopped myself on the concrete floor in front of the stage (chairs and stadium seating were strictly for those who had bought VIP tickets), and used my phone's flashlight to read a novel I had with me. My extreme uncoolness ended up being a huge boon.

Babatunji (Max) and Montgomery (Nux) on the catwalk,
with the VIP crowd behind them

I sat there on the floor for over an hour (the show finally started around 8:45pm) as my headache continued and the room filled up. Based on a few social media posts I saw afterwards, a lot of people couldn't actually see the show. Apparently some tried standing on the bars, but were made to get down. Another person on twitter said many left. I was impervious to all this.

Just how amazing my spot was didn't completely dawn on me until the dancing started. The music was by classical/pop fusion band YASSOU, and it was original, not Junkie XL's (a.k.a. Tom Holkenborg) soundtrack from the movie. YASSOU front woman Lilie Hoy (who played Capable) opened Fury with a song about memories of the world before the apocalypse while the projection screens showed lush green landscapes. The music was good, but I'll be totally honest: I was there for the dancing, and found the opening song a bit slow.

Babatunji, Montgomery, and Hoy

But then Luke Ingham charged out! Playing a much hotter version of Immortan Joe (sadly, I did not get any passable photos of him), Ingham moved around the tiny round stage with power and abandon. At one point he rushed nearly to the edge of the stage where I sat, and I realized that I was 1) sitting within arm's reach to a performance by some of the country's best dancers, and 2) that I had paid $35 for it. Yeah, I was on a hard floor and had to hunch down a little to see under the barrier, but it was still a better view than the box seats at the War Memorial Opera House (I assume).

By the time Babatunji made the most interesting, graceful crawl across a pretend desert ever, the headache receded from my awareness.

This elation only intensified as Stahl-Weitz (Splendid) and André (Toast) came out. I first fell in love with André when she danced the lead in Arthur Pita's Salome in March 2017, which I saw from a discounted dress circle seat. Her intensity can be felt from the balcony, but from a few feet away? Electric!

Dores Andre and Jennifer Stahl-Weitz

Also electric was Adji Cissoko as Furiosa. Her role as a principal at LINES is apt, considering her, well, lines. She is a live power line. And seeing Chung's (the Keeper of the Seeds) expressive face so close? Priceless (but again, $35!!!). A section en pointe with André, Chung, and Cissoko was a highlight for me.

Chung and Cissoko, VIP section in background

Although the story of Mad Max: Fury Road is obviously pared down for Fury the hour-long ballet, it gets the emotions right. You have the story of a harsh world, constant violence, and a group of various foes who come together in trust, love, and friendship to fight against evil. Hoy and Montgomery were sweet as young lovers Capable and Nux, but Babatunji and Cissoko were especially intriguing as Max and Furiosa. Their chemistry, explored in a fascinating pas de deux, was spot-on, and the audience went wild when they teamed up to kill Immortan Joe. (By jamming Cissoko's steel-like pointed leg in his face. Death by pointe shoe: it's ballet.)

Stahl-Weitz, Cissoko, and Andre

Also exciting about the show was its creative team. While ballet is having a great moment with young choreographers, many of the most famous are men (Arthur Pita, Justin Peck, Liam Scarlett, etc). Fury's choreographer is Danielle Rowe, and the composer (Kristina Dutton) and producer (Kate Duhamel) are women as well.

My takeaway from the crowd around me was that those who were able to see it loved it, but it was a disappointment for many of  those who had bought general admission and were not either tall or early enough to snag a spot on the ground. However, there was a camera crew, and the San Francisco Dance Film Festival was being promoted, so maybe it will show up there someday?

There is one more show tonight (9/15/18), and it looks like there are some general admission tickets left as of this writing. Get there early!

The stage

Image info:
All photos: terrible, mine (photos on social media tagged with #FuryShow were encouraged)

Two Films from Frameline39

I was fortunate to get two free tickets for this year's Frameline39, the San Francisco International LGBTQ Film Festival. The popular festival features dozens of diverse movies, documentaries, and shorts from all over the world. At last year's festival I watched Out in East Berlin, a documentary with a wide range of viewpoints about being gay in the GDR in the years leading up to the fall of the Berlin Wall. This year I picked two international narrative films: Liz in September from Venezuela and All About E from Australia.

Patricia Velasquez and Eloisa Maturén in Liz in September

Liz in September/Liz en Septiembre

A few years ago, I had a type of thyroid cancer: papillary thyroid carcinoma. This is generally one of the most treatable cancers. The surgeon chops out your thyroid, maybe you get a little radiation thrown in, and you take a pill every morning. But despite how non-lethal my own brush with malignant cells was, post-thyroidectomy I cry uncontrollably at cancer movies. 50/50, The Fault in Our Stars, and now Liz in September are all films that have made me wipe my eyes with my Muni-germ hands.

Liz in September is a Venezuelan film from director Fina Torres. It's based on an American play, Last Summer at Bluefish Cove by Jane Chambers. Liz (Patricia Velasquez) has had an unspecified cancer before, and now it's back and terminal. However, she keeps this diagnosis secret during the beach vacation she's having with friends (an excellent supporting cast) to celebrate her 37th birthday. The tight-knit group is interrupted by Eva (Eloisa Maturén), whose car has broken down. Liz's friends give her the challenge of seducing the apparently straight newcomer, not knowing how vulnerable Eva is: her young son has died, and her husband is having an affair. Still, romance blooms as Liz teaches Eva how to scuba dive and takes her on motorcycle and boat rides. Velasquez gives a subtle, deep performance with pain and humor. Maturén, a former ballerina, is endearing in her first acting role.

I'm not familiar with Chambers's play, but Torres's adaptation is gorgeous and warm. I wanted to be at that beach and at that inn, swimming, reading, and eating fresh fruit. As beautiful as the film is, it was apparently very hard to get made - Torres explained during the Q&A that this "labor of love" was many years in the making, and thanked producer Laura Oramas for saving the production from various last-minute emergencies. Their determination is inspiring for anyone working on their own long-term passion project.

L to R: ASL interpreter, producer Laura Oramas, Patricia Velasquez, 

Maria Luisa Flores, Eloisa Maturén, director Fina Torres, emcee

All About E

On Monday night I saw All About E, an Australian comedy/drama/romance/thriller from director Louise Wadley. E (Mandahla Rose) is a star DJ who parties hard and womanizes harder. But she's also stuck with her controlling, sleazy boss (Simon Bolton) and is so determined to stay in the closet to her Lebanese immigrant parents that she has her best friend Matt (Brett Rogers) pose as her husband. Perhaps because of these constrictions, when a duffel bag of cash appears she impulsively goes on the run with it, dragging Matt along, and we soon learn that deep down, all she really wants is to play the clarinet and settle down with a farmgirl.

The film felt tonally inconsistent to me, but this might be a quirk of Australian comedic cinema. Although they hold together better as dramedies, Muriel's Wedding and The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, are similarly erratic and were both mentioned by Wadley as inspiration. All About E is a mix of realistic, authentic moments contrasted with sometimes cartoonish characters and actions fueled mainly by plot. I definitely had some questions at the end (What was up with E and her boss? Why do they still have to get in the plane?), but it's an enjoyable ride.

A lot of that enjoyment is due to the leading ladies: Rose and Julia Billington. Although Billington claimed during the Q&A that she's a "city girl," she's totally believable as a tough but heartbroken country girl riding around on a tractor. The chemistry between Rose and Billington is such that you have to root for their characters' romance, even though E is a mess. That E remains sympathetic is thanks to Rose's performance. The beautiful music by Basil Hogios and Joseph Tawadros and cinematography by Justine Kerrigan are also highlights.

L to R: Simon Bolton, Brett Rogers, Julia Billington,
Mandahla Rose, producer Jay Rutovitz, director Louise Wadley

Frameline39 continues through this Sunday, June 28. An encore presentation of All About E will screen in Piedmont on Wednesday, and it will screen at Outfest in Los Angeles on July 12. Liz in September will also be screening at Outfest on July 12.

Favorite Mad Max: Fury Road Moments

I'd say my favorite things, but THEY ARE NOT THINGS.

I've now seen George Miller's Mad Max: Fury Road at the theater three times. (The only other movie I've seen three times in theaters is The Dark Knight...is it the brooding heroes and guys painted white?) It keeps getting better - I notice more small details, I feel closer to crying by the end, I can make out more of the Straya slang, etc.

Clearly I'm not alone. Mad Max: Fury Road might not be the biggest moneymaker this summer, but the intelligent, visually stunning, brilliantly edited action film has impressed critics and won the devotion of fans. Comic artists were especially inspired by Charlize Theron's Furiosa. Comic book shops found they, and the printer, had greatly underestimated the demand for the first issue of the tie-in comic. At least one person has made a flamethrower ukulele.

There's been a lot written about this movie, and I'm not going to add my own huge screed. I just wanted to catalog/gush over all my favorite things* about it, because that's really the reason I have this blog. In case it's not obvious, this will be approximately 100% spoilers.

*The Doof Warrior, of course, goes without saying.

Come on.

Favorite Moments in Mad Max: Fury Road

Max's failed escape: When Max is captured by Immortan Joe's scavengers, he attempts the daring escape expected of any action hero: he breaks his bonds and fights off an endless supply of anonymous goons while dashing through the evil lair, then jumps to an improbably convenient hanging rope. But instead of completing a nail-biting and exhilarating swing to safety, he's simply pulled back inside the Citadel. Sure, at least one or two of the minions died, but mostly Max's attempt just took five minutes out of everyone's work day. The expectation-defying sequence sets the tone for the film.

Chain fight: The Furiosa versus Max and Nux (who are chained together and not on good terms) fight. I'm always in awe of well choreographed battles, and this one was especially impressive. 

Spit fight: Super mature Nux spiting back at Furiosa after she spits at him. Really hope we get some blooper reel of that. (We have been teased about one.)

Whoops: Nux tripping on the war rig. I purposefully avoided reading much about the movie before watching, so I didn't know how large a role Nicholas Hoult's Nux played. When we first see Nux, he's just one of many in the swarm of War Boys. When he straps muzzled "blood bag" Max to the front of his car so he can go into battle while getting a blood transfusion, I expected we'd shortly get a scene of Max avenging the humiliation with a quick kill. When Nux survives being thrown off the rig by the wives (after surviving his own kamikaze attempt), I then assumed he'd be the "thorn in our heroes' side" character. But then he falls down like a total klutz in front of his idol in his moment of glory.

I'm lazy, so I'd be fine with mediocre.

Thumbs-up: Max's grudging thumbs-up when Angharad avoids being crushed by a giant rock. I want Tom Hardy to give me that thumbs-up. I just don't want to fall under a repurposed oil tanker immediately after.

The wives: The women's relationships. The bond between the five wives (Angharad, the Dag, Toast, Cheedo, and Capable) is strong and authentic. They've been through hell together. It's easy to imagine how a lesser filmmaker might have taken a misstep here, thoughtlessly making them either uniformly passive or catty, but this movie doesn't do thoughtless. As Riley Keough (Capable) said about the preparation for the role "“Emailing George about the part, you realized there’s more going on than, ‘Here’s hot girl number one and hot girl number two'". 

Subtle smile: Speaking of which, Capable's contemplative, secret smile when she's back in the rig after finding Nux.

Leaving the The Fault in Our Stars kids in the dust.

Facial: Max taking a split second to weigh "face covered in other guy's blood" with "face cleaned with breastmilk." He goes with the breastmilk. You do what you gotta do, Max.

Boot: Max giving Nux a boot. Nux hasn't uttered a word of complaint about only having one boot, but Max still remembers to grab him one after slaughtering the Bullet Farmer's convoy. How...sweet? (Sure he could have given Nux his actual boot back, but he's not quite there yet - he will later swoop in rather than let Nux suffer while siphoning fuel.) It's a small, wordless indication of how Max is gradually letting himself care for others again. At the beginning of the film, he was so hurt and mistrusting that he was willing to take the rig and abandon the women in the desert, but interacting with Furiosa and the others is bringing him back to his noble self.

Tandem: Max and Furiosa's teamwork. Max is still hoarding weapons, worried Furiosa might try to off him, when he's completely caught off guard by her trusting him to start the rig if her deal in the canyon goes bad. Her trust is rewarded, and they start working together seamlessly.

From here.

Road trip: Cheedo, Toast, the Dag, Capable, and Nux all curled up asleep like kittens in the back while mom 'n' pop Furiosa and Max take turns driving through the night. Update: Please check out Joanne Kwan's awesome Mad Max family roadtrip fan art.

Uncouth ladies: The blunt Dag's understanding with the blunt Keeper of the Seeds. Age is no barrier to friendship when you're a smartass.

Pa: The characters say almost nothing about the considerable traumas they've all experienced, but we know from the first Mad Max film that Max had a infant son who was murdered. Max's PTSD flashbacks mostly involve a different young child he was unable to save, but when he's watching his new friends leave across the salt he hears, "Come on, Pa!" Wrenching. Whether you knew about his son beforehand or just put it together, it's a punch in the gut.


Favorite Moment That Wasn't Actually in Mad Max: Fury Road That I Wish Was Actually in Mad Max: Fury Road

On the way back to the Citadel, Furiosa slows the rig to a halt. Max looks at her with a wordless question. She silently indicates with her head, and he follows her gaze. There's a giant billboard reading "Aussie Al's OBGYN and Cancer Center (and Waterpark)." Max grunts and looks back at Furiosa. Furiosa looks at Max. Max shrugs deferentially. Furiosa starts the rig again and follows the sign.

Lace, Sun, and Lizards: Picnic at Hanging Rock

Not gonna lie. I did not first learn of Peter Weir's 1975 film Picnic at Hanging Rock through my non-existent thorough study of cinema. I learned of it in a fashion editorial, where a dress I liked was described as "very Picnic at Hanging Rock," which I then Googled. I watched the trailer and some scenes on Youtube, and then added it to my Netflix queue at position #1. Then a few weeks later, I watched the sensual, eerie music video for Alpine's "Hands," and the film was referenced again in the comments. I was motivated to finally watch the current Netflix DVD I'd had for way too long.

Adapted from the novel by Joan Lindsay, this is a hard movie to pin down. What happens in it? On Valentine's Day in 1900 in Australia, a group of teenage girls from a strict British-run boarding school go for a picnic at Hanging Rock. Three of the girls and a teacher do not return. They are searched for. One is eventually found. What is it about? That is up for debate. Both budding and long-repressed sexuality. The folly of Europeans moving into lands they hardly know. The futility of hanging on to something that has already slipped away. Imperialist British culture and its attempts to conquer and contain all in its path: continents, nature, women...

No really. I love my bow. Thanks, Victorianism.

When the story starts, the girls are already preparing to go out to that fateful picnic. They are romantic in temperament and sisterly in affection, helping each other with corsets and flouncy white dresses, reading love poetry aloud, surrounded by Valentines and flowers. We are introduced to ethereal Miranda, beloved of her roommate: plain, serious-faced Sara. Sara is told by a similarly mousy teacher that she will not be allowed on the outing. Headmistress Mrs. Appleyard sends them off with strict instructions regarding gloves and safety. A bespectacled girl looks annoyed by the admonishments against tomboy antics. And the students, chaperoned by affectionate young Mademoiselle de Poitiers and scholarly older Miss McCraw are taken by carriage into the wilderness.

The ridiculous gap between aristocratic Victorian British culture and the reality of Australia becomes even more apparent when they reach the picnic grounds. Another group is there: a British colonel, his wife, their nephew Michael, and Albert, their roughshod Australia-raised servant (a compelling John Jarratt). This wealthy British family's starched collars and heavy clothing are terribly out of place in this hot land of poisonous ants and snakes - a fact they seem determined to ignore. While the old couple continue with their proper English lunch, the two young men bond over a bottle of wine.

Did you learn nothing from Heart of Darkness?

In their white dresses, the girls lounge in the shade, reading poetry and playing with each others' hair. Then three of the girls - Miranda, the glasses-wearing Marion, and dark-haired Irma - ask to study the base of the rock. They are granted permission, and chubby-girl caricature Edith (yes, there's a scene of her shoveling down cake) insists on going along. As they head farther away, catching the attention of Michael and Albert in the process, the behavior of Miranda, Marion, and Irma becomes odder and odder. They walk with purpose, occasionally stopping to talk philosophy, remove articles of clothing, and dance. And then finally, they leave Edith behind and continue up the rock and out of sight.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Appleyard anxiously awaits the return of her charges and employees. When they finally do return, they are distressed and the three girls, as well as Miss McCraw, are gone. Were they raped and murdered? Did they fall into a crevice? A massive search turns up nothing. Michael's story is inconsistent, but there are no bodies, no clothes, no anything. Weeks pass, and although it is clear they are no longer on the rock, or likely alive at all, an increasingly Miranda-obsessed Michael talks Albert into another dangerous search. Strangely enough, they find Irma - concussed and corsetless. But her reappearance only adds to the mystery: the rock had already been thorouglhly searched, she claims to have no memory of the events, and while her hands are badly scratched, her bare feet are clean and unmarked.

I want a dress like this to hike in.

Why do these four go missing? Why is Irma returned? We are given so little about them and their inner lives, but perhaps these four women were the most internally at odds with the oppressive ideal of Victorian womanhood. Miranda's close, sensual relationship with Sarah - was it more than platonic? Sarah writes poetry about Miranda and tells her photograph that she loves her. Miss McCraw's musings on the geological history of Hanging Rock hint at an intellectual mind longing for more than the life of a spinster school marm. What did Marion want from life? What desires does Irma harbor? I am reminded of Tarjei Vesaas's novel The Ice Palace, in which an adolescent girl conflicted about her sexuality makes a fateful trek to a frozen waterfall.

Weir wisely avoids falling into the formulas of a mystery, horror, or police procedural. Shots of the stunning but threatening Australian landscape and wildlife are plentiful and lingering; expository scenes and dialogue are minimalist. Gheorghe Zamfir's dramatic pan flute is often the only accompaniment. The beauty and power of this approach makes the few scenes near the end that veer into camp (a very unsubtle descent into alcoholism, a foreboding voiceover) all the more jarring.

After Joan Lindsay's death, a previously unpublished chapter, "The Secret at Hanging Rock," was released, giving an earlier version of what happens to the girls and Miss McCraw. However, I think the choice to leave it out of the novel was a wise one. While the ambiguity will be annoying to some, a resolution doesn't feel fitting here.








Screenshots from Blu-ray