In all my movie-going years of enjoying the locked-in activity of watching a film and eating popcorn (no butter, no salt, please!), this was the first time I finished every kernel and held a completely empty bag in my hands. What’s to blame for this overindulgence? Nora Ephron’s “Julie and Julia!”
The superb actress, Meryl Streep, caught exactly the incredibly endearing and humorous mannerisms of Julia Childs. It brought a constant smile to my face and a constant need to keep chewing. Ms. Streep’s co-star, Amy Adams, is a lovely and subtle performer. As Julie, she is a woman in a dead-end job who challenges herself to cook all 524 recipes in Julia Child’s classic book, “Mastering the Art of French Cooking,” in the space of one year. Also in this breezy and busy movie is another one of my favorites, the impeccable Stanley Tucci. Remember him with Ms. Streep in “The Devil Wears Prada?” It was a perfect foil. Together, they are delightful again.
“Julie and Julia” have me laugh-out-loud moments. (I was also so glad the movie was playing at Bayonne’s Fox Theater). Again just make sure to eat before going. I can’t stress that enough because the food in this film looks amazing. It almost inspired me by its lingering close-up shots of the endearing Julia Child’s dishes to try the same. Notice I said almost! And what did the lady always say: Bon appêtit!
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It was close to a Bayonne reunion, and you’ll never guess (even if I give you a hint) that it took place around the corner from the world famous Carnegie Hall.
The happening occurred at a French restaurant, Seppi’s New York, located on West 56th Street just off the lobby of Le Parker Meridien Hotel. Each Friday evening, everyone’s favorite old-time radio deejay, Danny Stiles, hold forth playing nostalgia trivia with his adoring audience.
To all this there’s a big plus – the Rick Bogart Trio (no, no relation to Humphrey – and Rick is much better looking). He and his jazz clarinet (plus bass and piano) play all the old-time favorites that Danny spins on his daily radio programs: Songs like “On the Sunny Side of the Street” and “Begin the Beguine” – songs from “The Great American Songbook.” Rick Bogart grew up in New Orleans and is a most charming, talented Southern gentleman. He plays a soothing clarinet and sings with ease – lovely to listen to and no shouting.
As for the Bayonne reunion in the heart of New York City, usually Josie Rudo, the “Bayonne Bunny,” is at a front table. On my last visit, my friend, Ruth, gleefully spotted Chuck Wepner, the “Bayonne Bleeder,” sitting at a nearby table with his wife, Linda, and two of their friends from Bayonne.
In all, it was decidedly “a lovely way to spend an evening.” We dined, we sang, we danced. Who could ask for anything more? It was good to learn that the Rick Bogart Trio appears at Seppi’s every Wednesday to Saturday at 8:30 p.m. and Sunday brunch at noon. To quote the musician-singer: “Seppi’s is the only hotel/restaurant in New York with a regular trio.” Hard to believe! I’m aiming to find my way to his Sunday brunch. Want to go?
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My son, Andy, highly recommended that I see “Mad Men” on AMC. I recommended “Hung” on HBO to him. It should have been the other way around. Andy was right. I’m not sure I was.
TV’s “Mad Men,” a deliciously brooding drama, is in its third season and, like fine wine, is getting better with age. Andy figured I would appreciate the series because it is set in 1960s New York, my hey day. The story follows the lives of the ruthlessly competitive men and women of Madison Avenue advertising. An adult drama, it awakened so many memories in its depiction of the changing mores of that era. All the men are dressed with skinny ties and they all wear hats. When was the last time you saw a man wearing a hat (baseball caps don’t count!). All the women are sporting bouffant dos and are heavily corseted with pointy bras (glad all that went out of style!). What makes “Mad Men” so fascinating to watch is that the characters are difficult to read – a mystery. You don’t have to like them to watch them with their constant smoking, drinking and sexual problems. Oh yes, in the 60s, sexual banter wasn’t yet harassment.
Now I told Andy about “Hung.” In case you’re wondering, the title of the series is a description of Ray, the hero, and his sole useful asset. It’s a comedy series about struggling, suburban Detroit High School basketball coach who resorts to prostitution and his pimp is a female (that’s a switch!). Ray’s wife left him, his twins are annoying adolescents, his neighbors harass him and his home has just burned down. That’s comedy? Hell, it’s a dark comedy. The show becomes pretty damn funny once you keep at it. Ray’s awkwardness as a pro-gigolo is charming. “Hung” is slow building without being too sexy or raunchy. Perhaps one of its pleasures is watching ambitious but not overly bright people dig their own graves. In addition, Ray has two of the ugliest kids I’ve ever seen on television.
At any rate, my son (who, of course, is bee-you-tea-full) was not hung up on “Hung” (ha!) I continue to enjoy AMC’s “Mad Men” and HBO’s “Hung.”
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This past summer came (and went too quickly), and I was happy to attend the Mostly Mozart Festival at Lincoln Center. I clearly remember December 2002, when the elegant vibrant Louis Langrée began his leadership of the orchestra. Under the Frenchman’s guidance, we were treated to compelling, riveting performances. He revitalized the Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra, bringing brio and kinetic energy to the music.
Mostly Mozart is not what it was – that is, mostly Mozart. It connects to Beethoven, Bach, Schubert and Mendelssohn. The festival now involves dance, film, 17th to 21st century repertory, all while showing the numerous ways in which classical music can grow, stimulate thought and free the imagination.
There’s also a series of late-night programs, just 60 minutes without intermission. It is presented at the Kaplan Penthouse, a real treat. The Penthouse is on the 10th floor of the Rose Building, a space with picture windows and city vistas on two sides.
Seated there, I felt as if I was at a swank jazz club. We sat at round tables with complementary wine and sparkling water. I don’t know whether it was sipping wine, the late hour, or the view that made me feel so giddy. I guess it was the whole scene.
The performances are wonderfully intimate since there are only 230 or so places plus an audience like me being uncommonly attentive and grateful. How many ways are there to shout “Bravo.”