Defying brevity...

I wanted to love Wicked...the Broadway musical...and I liked it...but it was uneven...and suffered to a degree with the same problem of Les Miserables...what to do with Act II when the "11 o'clock number"...in this case, "Defying Gravity" (now, on repeat ad nauseum at a Target near you)...ends Act I???...which in the movie version comes after almost 2 hours and 40 minutes...the movie which is Part I...why?...what happened to less is more...is this what happens when the almighty dollar rules?...now, I will admit I was hesitant to see this Wicked...and by the way...this is not a kids movie...the musical never claimed to be for kids either...it left that to the Disney side of Times Square...but this movie is being marketed that way...for fuck's sake...this Wizard is like the Joseph Mengele of Oz...and this is unfair to the revelation of the darker side and sadness of Elphaba...and the evolving friendship of Elphaba and Galinda...which is the essence of the movie  and is quiet moving...kudos to Cynthia...and I will, begrudgingly admit, Ariana who is quite "grande" in this role...but director Jon Chu couldn't leave that subtlety alone...he had to insert over the top numbers and kitschiness..."One Short Day'' which introduces us to the Emerald City looks like it was lifted from Crazy Rich Asians...but I digress...I could not help but think about The Wizard of Oz...made in 1939...it was not the first color movie...but rather the first movie where color...and the use of black and white and sepia for contrast...carried the vision of the director...all that served to support Dorothy's search for more than she realized...it was the emotions this elicited that allowed its audience to feel...to cry ...which immortalized it...I wanted to cry during Wicked...it almost had me...but all that glitters is not always golden...(and everyone over the age of 5 who saw The Wizard of Oz knew that Glinda was the bitch)...

"the women gather"...

Nikki Giovanni died last week...one of my favorite poets...I happened to catch the last half hour of the 2023 documentary "Going to Mars: The Nikki Giovanni Project" the other night on HBO...it left me smiling for a while...there are words that dance on the page...but hearing them read aloud is other worldly...being a writer...a poet...reading other works...loving other poets...that's a tricky thing...there's always that fine line between admiration and subconscious regurgitation...because isn't all creativity new interpretation of basic tenets?...2024 is winding down...slipping, not so quietly, in early sunsets and winter winds...and there isn't just a weather-related drought here in New York...I have been feeling it acutely in my writing...or lack thereof...this year, the world and life stole my creative thunder...many times...we seem to feel those empty chairs at the table more acutely as the candles mount on our birthday cakes...makes me think of another favorite poet...Mary Oliver...who seamlessly wove the innate fear of mortality into exquisite thoughts on nature and earthly delights...and that is the real beauty in poetry...reading, and thinking - yes, I feel that too!...here's hoping that there are more poems inside me...that life gives me the grace to voice them...and for the end of this year I leave you with the closing line of my favorite Nikki poem, The Women Gather..."it is not unusual to sift through the ashes and find an unburnt picture"...