I Know Thee Not, Old Man

First of all, I’m not interested in canonizing anything or anyone. Quite the opposite, actually. If I had my way, we’d drop the classics down a well as soon as we’d taken from them what we needed. As far as I’m concerned, there’s way too much reverence in the world for the things that came before us, too much gushing over the past. Respect is all well and good, but if we honestly believe things were better when so and so was making movies or thus and such was writing books or this and that was recording albums, then we’re doing so and so, thus and such, and this and that enormous disrespect. In fact, the most respectful thing we could ever do for those who came before us is leave them behind.

“This past doesn’t influence me,” said Willem de Kooning, “ I influence the past.”

So, by all means, use Mr. Porter and Mr. Shakespeare and Mr. Sting and do with them what you will. Cut ‘em up, mash ‘em up, whatever. The past is ours to do with as we please. The newness is all.

But I’m not talking about reinterpretation; I’m talking about laziness. I’m not talking about Baz Luhrmanm recontextualizing “Roxanne” as a tango in a Paris dancehall and calling it his own, because it is his own. No, I’m talking about Kenneth Branagh deciding he wanted to make a musical but knowing he didn’t want to do the actual heavy lifting necessary. Deciding that rather than write some original songs, he’d just use music that bears a fleeting resemblance to the story he was trying to tell and then pass the whole thing off as a … Tribute to the Golden Age of the Movie Musical!

Branagh knew he had scenes about unrequited love, bubbly new romance, the joy of dancing, the pain of saying goodbye, and one man’s disdain for champagne and cocaine, so he grabbed a couple of Frank Sinatra records and went through them till he found a song about unrequited love, a song about bubbly new romance, a song about the joy of dancing, a song about the pain of saying goodbye, and a song about disdain for champagne and cocaine and then dropped them into his script.

Then what did he do? He went out and he watched a bunch of old movies and saw what kind of dance scenes they featured, and he proceeded to copy each one in turn, making a sort of pastiche of 20th-century movie-musical clichés: the elegant couple gliding gracefully across a parlor floor in tuxedos and evening gowns; the Busby Berkeley girls diving into a swimming pool; the sexed-up, sweaty lovers in their unmentionables dry-humping on chairs.

Then he stuck it all together and shook it around a little bit and ... Voila! A musical!

But that’s not a musical; that’s a revue. And revues are fine for the hix in the stix, but they don’t make gravy here, pal. Take your loving tributes and your undying respect and hit the bricks! If Shakespeare can put in the time to come up with something new, and if the Gershwin brothers and Cole Porter and Irving Berlin can do the same, then so can you.

Besides, doesn’t this look like a commercial for Orbitz or Old Navy?

Every time I see Natascha McElhone turn to the camera and say, “And that’s why,” I expect the next chorus to be:

Get a Great Deal

On a Toyota!

Buy it Here,

A Dodge Dakota!

It’s All for You

At Cars Dot Commmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!