Update on Clarisonic: 6 months in!

In December I bought the Clairsonic Plus on eBay, including the normal & sensitive heads for the face and the body brush. It was a steal at 40% off, including shipping.

Since then, I've used the sensitive head every morning on my face, in the shower -- with my usual Avene Soapless Gel Cleanser, btw, not the Clairisonic products or Jurlique, which is being advertised so hard right now. I've use the body brush specifically on my hands and arms, which are always tan and had developed brown spots and simply rougher skin, my decolletage, and my shoulders.

Report: great success! On my face, the blackheads around my nose and upper cheeks that have driven me crazy since I was 13 are gone, almost entirely, even in the folds of my nose. This, without peeling, drying, or damage to the less oily parts of my face. Plus, the lighter brown spots that had started to emerge are al-most invisible now. The overall brightness and texture of my skin is better, and I am thrilled! On my arms, the rougher skin is gone, replaced by softer and smoother skin. The bumpy pimples -- or keratosis pilaris -- that is usually on my upper arms and shoulders is gone too, thanks to the high setting of the body brush.

I believe that the brush's daily exfoliation enables my body and face lotions to be better absorbed and to work better. Again, the condition of my skin overall is proof.

This is the best result I've had with any product, and, again, I don't think it matters what soap you use, but it will certainly help a specific cleanser (for example, one with acne-fighting salicylic acid) to work better. I do my face in two minutes and my body in about three, while my hair conditioner is working, say.

I think I'd still be thrilled if I'd bought it new for full price... but I'm glad I didn't.

Review: Phedre

About two weeks about I saw the rebroadcast of Phedre, the National Theatre production that was live simulcast in their new program of National Theatre Live! This was a 2009 production, but via technology we can all enjoy the performance by Helen Mirren--and others. Actually, I just came for Mirren: proof once again that she is a great actress, not just a movie star with style but a great freaking actress on stage, too.

I do want to address the program of National Theatre Live. It is a great idea, and not solely because it brings productions that I couldn't see without travelling to London regularly (which would not be a hardship in any way but financially). It is a really brave idea, because they are simulcasting some wacky stuff to theatres all over the world--throughout Britain, Europe, and the U.S.--not just "regular" theatre offerings but things by Complicite and the soon-to-come Hamlet. In other words, REAL plays and REAL theatre.

The production of Phedre is in their medium-sized theatre, the Lyttleton, and the filming is in HD--gorgeously done. My caveat is this: it is a live theatre performance filmed and edited as film as much as theatre... and therin lies the trap for actors as well as us, the audience. Some of the actors are obviously much more comfortable with the small-size event of film, while others are not. Mirren floats seamlessly between, or beyond, never even noting the cameras, or even the reality of the 21st century.

What I mean is, this is not a one-camera-focused-on-the-stage event. It is not that simple nor that naive. It is, in its own way, a documentary film of a theatre production of Phedre, without the interviews or accompanying junk of most such films surrounding it. The camera(s) move. There is editing. There are close-ups as well as full-screen views of the full stage.

By giving us this (transparent) interference with a "live" broadcast in a movie theatre, the "filmed" element seems to go away.

But it is there, influencing our viewing of this piece.

Now: let me say that this was what I consider to be "theatre" at its best. Not cinematic theatre, not a mutated version of TV, not a watery "relatable experience." But balls to the wall theatre--Racine's amazing, take no prisoners 17th-century drama.

Again caveat. The National did not do it in rhyming couplets, which is okay. It is hard for 21st century audiences to hear rhymed couplets in tragedy... and not go all Hallmark. It is also... slow... for us 21st century folks. But, like watching Shakespeare (real Shakespeare, not watery "relatable" Shakespeare), once you give yourself to it, settle in, and accept you are in the flow of Racine's great dramaturgy... you are golden.

Mirren was great. Of course, she looked great, in a series of wonderfully designed costumes meant to evoke both ancient Greece, 17th century France, tragedy as a great art, and modern sensibilities (how?): she was a queen in the throes of a desperate sexual passion for her stepson. Racine gives us a Phedre who knows this "curse" has been set upon her by Venus as a punishment, and we meet a woman who would rather die than give in to this illicit, adulterous love--even by a look or a word.

Built in to the best of 17th century heroes and heroines is the moral dilemma of personal emotion vs. society's ethics (including Judeo-Christian precepts like fidelity and chastity). They struggle with these conflicts, and rathher than give in to them quickly and deal with the consequences (like 21st century drama), much of the play is about Phedre refusing to give in to this overwhelming desire/love. When the situation changes--we all think Theseus, her husband and Hippolytus's father--is dead--she can now let go and allow herself to feel, to express her feelings, to open her heart and pour out her HUGE passion like the tsunami that it is.

The point, in 17th century drama, is the tension of not being caught between the self and society in a moral dilemma. The tension between one's two-year-old passions and the demands of the community for respect and concern for the rights of other's equal to or before one's own... is, for Racine, huge. Moliere's comic version of this--where people do give in--is equally devastating, but on the domestic scale.

No one is quite as good as Mirren in this version, although her confidente is played by Margaret Tyzack, who has the thankless role of doublecrossing everyone... she is the bad guy in Racine's version, and here plays it with the assurance of a seasoned actress. The scenes between Mirren and Tyzack are wonderful to watch.

Dominic Cooper as Hippolytus is overwhelmed by Mirren's skills; he is a nice boy, good-looking, although the notion to put him in a Don Johnson stubble and somehat grubby A-shirt seem like the choices of a music video rather than a serious theatrical costume. His pretty looks are saved by the small screen editing (close-ups) that mask the fact that he doesn't know what to do with his body: no tension, no fear, no hidden secrets or subtext. He seems to be inspired more by Brando's Stanley Kowalski than anything, and I waited for him to fall to his knees and bellow, "Aricia!!!!!! Aricia baby!!!!!!!" for his Big Moment. he wanders aimlessly on the stage, and the more experienced actors kindly cover for his youth and lack of awareness of the deep emotions running through Hippolytus: love, hatred, despair, disgust, anger. For the life of me, Racine's explanation seems apt: Venus must have cursed Phedre, otherwise why would such a woman have such a monumental crush on such a shallow boy... but ah, haven't we all been there?

Stanley Townsend as Theseus seemed like Santa Claus trying to play Big Daddy. Yoink! He yelled and strutted and gestured and bellowed and pointed his beard and big tummy around the stage like weapons... but I did not believe him as a formidable man in his middle-aged prime who was a serious force in this tragedy. Or even a very good king. We are to believe that Theseus has been the sexual bad boy of the Aegean, playing hide the salami with every woman he meets, making them swoon with his charisma... and this is one reason his son hates him and has become such a chaste boy. For me, couldn't be. Townsend might hire lapdancers or courtesans, but no way was he ever the Errol Flynn of the Greek city-states and beyond... if you get my meaning.

The set: fantastic. The costumes, as said: fantastic. The actresses in general: excellent! The younger women who played Aricia and her confident were strong, although Aricia was the weakest of the bunch. Pretty, sad, etc., the actress found strength in the character, but there was little spark.

Big D Theatre

In the last weeks, I have seen several productions around the Big D area. They demonstrated a real mix of production choices, respect/disrespect for original texts, and the annoying notion of "relevance" for audiences.

First, we produced OUR TOWN, which is arguably one of the top five plays in American theatre, worthy of being in the top 25 plays of the 20th century. All too often it is played as a sentimental/Hallmark play using "realism" as its defining production style--ugh. Wilder would (and probably does) spin in his grave. Our production, directed by one of my colleagues, was pretty dead-on in its production, eliminating the inserted "realism" of high school versions and utilizing Wilder's stylistic choices. The ensemble casting was, for the most part, strong, and Stage Manager was even one of our faculty colleagues.

My only confusion was the choice to "stage" the play as a rehearsal, or to at least play the first act as a rehearsal, moving slowly by the third act to a more conventional "staged" play. This had been done in the recent NYC production (as I understand it) as a way into Wilder's unconventional notions for the play, where he mediates between conventional performance events of the 1930s and the anti-realistic wave coming in from Europe. In the least effective choice, this meant leaving the lights up during the entire first act and trading recorded sound effects for live sounds made, distractingly, by actors in the aisles. The most effective choices were to keep the actors to miming the actions of the script (although it was clear the young actresses had too often not researched stringing beans or lighting early 20th-century stoves) and to minimize stage pieces.

All in all, it was an effective and moving night of theatre, well directed and acted. One of the best I've seen on my divisional stages for a while.

By contrast, I also saw The Big Theatre's production of HENRY IV, PARTS I & II in one of the final performances. The biggest problems here were script cutting and directing, which in turn influenced the acting. The set and costumes, too, were unfortunate.

Both plays were jammed into 2 hours and 40 minutes: Part I was the first 2 hours, and Part II was chopped into the final 40 minutes. Why? The re-cutting emphasized the story of Hal and Falstaff, virtually ignored Hotspur (I know: how can that be?), and included 'way too much swordplay. It also inserted "music" into the show: a Loudon Wainwright tune (replacing a key monologue) and Blake's C of E hymn "Jerusalem" as a cry to battle/God. Both were more than unfortunate choices, I think meant to make the play "relatable" or "relevant" to Big D spectators. Ugh. In my opinion, the result was a jangling cacophony of badly inserted materials. The Wainwright song was, simply put, embarrassing, sung in a musical comedy style that undercut Hal's character.

There was a lot of scenes in the drunken pals/pub revelry style, allowing for the comedy. Deftly played, by the way by a veteran character actor doing an interesting take on Falstaff. The Hal was not up to the task, however, and came across as hardly material for a future Henry V. Even Henry IV was reduced to a cameo role, and the complexity of the two plays and their internal story about fathers and sons, inheritance, character, and leadership was completely lost.

The costumes looked like bad rentals from a regional production of Robin Hood or King Arthur--badly fitted, overall. And the dirty faces of the actors meant I didn't even recognize one of our seniors! The scaffolding that surrounded the seating--where the bulk of the athletic swordplay went on--was jiggly and noisy with its imprecise fitting (and sounded dangerous, in fact!), distracting me from what went on onstage.

And the lights never went down (again!), so they were in my eyes, distracting, kept me from focusing, and kept me watching people's expressions across the way, in the balcony, etc.

Sigh. Is this the new thing, this "lights up" stuff? Most directors aren't good enough to get away with it--like here--so the end result is simply weak.

One strong production, one weak... better than usual, actually.

Review: The Bronx

Continuing my new ritual of eating out by myself on Tuesday nights, I chose The Bronx this week. It is not new to me, I like it very much, in part because it is a restaurant with a great bar. It is also a restaurant where I never feel uncomfortable being alone or a woman alone out for dinner (see Split Pea Soup Cafe).

The Bronx offers outdoor and indoor dining, although I've only ever eaten indoors. I actually like eating in a restaurant-bar that's got a great ambiance, kind of old-fashioned and clean. It's located on Cedar Springs Road.

The food here is good, the wine mostly Californian, and the prices reasonable. Tuesday I had the avocado-bacon burger with onion rings: both were delicious. The burger was perfectly cooked, a good size wihtout being too giant for one person to reasonably eat. The toppings were also well prepared: bacon crispy, avocado fresh and cool. The onion rings were neither over-cooked nor too crumbly: the breading stayed right in place. And there was very, very good coffee.

They open at 5:30, which is my only gripe about the place. I generally like to go out earlier, have a glass of wine, and order dinner after I've done some reading or writing. I think this is a result of time spent in French cafes, and most American places feel comfortable with this arrangement. You sit down, you order, you eat, and you go home, all in one long sweep, thereby freeing up the table for more hungry customers. It's all rushed and quick.

But The Bronx doesn't care if I sit and read for an hour or so before ordering dinner, which is another reason I like the spot. I did indeed read and take notes, moving between two books of French cultural history. The waiter was friendly but not chatty, which was again perfect. Several tables filled and emptied while I was there, and everything ordered looked and smelled great. Maybe if I could get over the burgers I'd order something else.

The prices are right, as well. My bill, including coffee, tax, and tip, came to less than $25.

Pearl

Review: Split Pea Soup Cafe

Tuesday night I ate at this new branch of an El Paso-based chain. I had read about it in Daily Candy Dallas, where I get a number of good tips about new places to eat.

Right up front, let's deal with the cons:

• Pretty deserted on a Tuesday evening at 7 pm: I was the only patron when I arrived;
• I was asked if it was "just" me: not a question a woman eating alone likes to hear; I would suggest practice with a rephrasing of this question to make it sound less pathetic and weird for a single woman to take herself out for a delightful solo dinner;
• The menu is schizophrenic: part inexpensive soup-and-salad material, part Filet Mignon, Lamb Chops, and Spinach Fettucine, fancy designer fare at much higher prices/higher cuisine status;
• The menu lists about 15 soups, but doesn't clarify that not all choices are available every day; only after I had decided on the red pepper bisque did I find out that it was not available;
• The soups available were hardly 'warm weather fare,' meaning summer soups. French Onion, Clam Chowder, Split Pea, Minestrone, and so forth are hardly the flavors I want on a 100+ day;
• I didn't get what I asked for, which was French Onion Soup -- instead I got Italian Wedding Soup;
• I had to ask for water and coffee, and I was never offered dessert, which is not on the regular menu but on the website gelato and cheesecake are both mentioned.

Now, the pros:

• The Italian Wedding Soup was delicious, and a cup, at $3.95, was the right size and price to share with one of the best Greek salads I've had in a while;
• The salad was crisp and well-made, the dressing was light and just enough;
• Martinis were $5.00, a great price, and beers were $2.00;
• The ambiance was nice, and with a few more patrons, cooler weather for the lovely patio, this would be a great post-work spot for drinks and maybe a light dinner;
• Lots and lots of free parking close.

So here's my final deal. I would eat there again but I would know to be much more assertive with the wait staff about my order (being correctly taken) as well as about water, a drink, coffee, and dessert.

I would also like to try the patio on a cooler day.

On Tuesday, after completing my dinner, I went to Ziziki's for dessert--their ice cream baklava cake--and a glass of cabernet. I definitely wanted dessert and this is one of my favorites. Besides which, Ziziki's has a great patio with a fountain. By 9 pm, the patio is pretty deserted on a Tuesday while the fountain plays prettily in the background. I read my novel and enjoyed both the wine and the treat.

Split Pea Soup Cafe

Pearl

Two Quick Reviews

Review #1: Urbino Pizza & Pasta, a new restaurant here in DFW. Last night I ate here with friends. We had the bruschetta appetizer and a half Blanco/half Vegetarian pizza, traditional round crust. Joe & I had the frozen lemoncello cocktail, while Tim had a Grey Goose martini. The exterior was too hot (weather) so we ate inside. The seating is continental--meaning open, the new fad in DFW Italian. Some sophisticated kind of jam, I guess. Blah blah blah. It is not the Texas way, not the USA way... so people struggle against it or sit with the facial expression of "Oh, aren't we, uh, civilized." But they look awkward. Me, too, actually.

There were also couches, where you can sit and drink/eat, too. That's a ltitle "Arabian Nights" for me, as well, and makes for dangerous eating: spilling, juggling, slouching. Not my dream eat choice.

The cocktails were yum-yum good, especially the lemoncello. The food was not bad, but nothing to rave about. Not the best bruschetta or pizza I've had, not as good as other DFW locations. Like Fireside Pies, which has the BEST pizza and salads I can think of. Or Rocco's, which does the best delivery pizza in my area. De-lish and reasonable. (Used to be Sagno's but they closed... and the result is that my bike store moved in.) In fact, the bruschetta was untoasted (surprise!) and came with a "salad" that was sadly limp.

Our waitress was good, and there were many, many young men in white Ts wandering around (doing what, exactly, was unclear... ).
Rather obviously, a meet 'n' greet place for younger folks and a weensy bit pretentious (check the site, that doesn't give menu, photos, or anything but "atmosphere" and delivery #." Curiously unfull bar--limited wine list, limited cocktails, not sure about beer... Not enough of a draw to go back again.

Review #2: A Perfect Getaway, new film out this weekend. Action-adventure. I saw this this morning... need the action-adventure jolt every once in a while. Mixed reactions.

a. the script has its too precious, too pretentious moments, especially when it dwells in screenwriting (the director is the screenwriter, by the way). Ugh. But there are also funny moments, and it is not a terrible script. Semi-well crafted, with certain payoff moments.

b. Timothy Olyphant has a smoking hot body. He is not only the best actor here--seriously, seriously better than everyone else--but in good shape. A bonus. His character is crazy, weird, slightly (or more) strung out, but as in Deadwood, he is very good and under-appreciated. Oh, and smoking hot.

c. the landscape is beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. If I was inclined to hike or climb or do anything remotely like that, I would go there, to Hawaii, to do so. If I had a partner who could track/climb/hunt/clean/cook I would go there and do that.

Some good action sequences--mostly of the hand-to-hand fighting sort. Some good dialogue exchanges. Some twists--too easy to figure out. Steve Kahn is good, Milla Jovavich is in good shape, Kiely Sanchez is also in good shape and might be pretty good a few years from now. Director-writer Twohy depends too much on run-of-the-mill crafting of the screenplay, following the directions for a do-it-yourself thriller/adventure flick. The problem: it comes across as lack of commitment and a wink wink, nudge nudge to the audience. Aren't we all so smart? The actors are committed--at least Olyphant, Sanchez, and Kahn are. Who ever knows about Jovavich? They are working, committing, turning in performances that I hope people notice; but Twohy is selling a product. Just my opinion.

See it for the good stuff--it will work for you, as long as your expectations are middling. But--again--Olyphant is very, very good and did I mention the smoking hot body? The combination is too rare in recent films.

Review: Cheri

Yesterday--Sunday--I went to see the film Cheri. It was marvelous.

Directed by Stephen Frears, screenplay by Christopher Hampton from two novels by Colette, and starring Michelle Pfeiffer, Kathy Bates, and Rupert Friend, I have not been able to stop thinking about the film. Reviewers have been somewhat less than kind, seeing only the surface bubbles rather than the depth of character revealed by director and performers.

First of all, the film is beautifully shot. The sets, costumes, and entire look of it is gorgeous, evoking France's Belle Epoque in an absolutely authentic, meticulously researched, and stunningly replicated manner (damn, I want her bed!). For this alone, I loved it.

But there was more!

Frears is the director of The Queen, Mrs. Henderson Presents, Dirty Pretty Things, and High Fidelity, as well as one of my all-time favorite films, The Grifters. He must be brilliant with actors, given the performances he gets out of male and female performers alike. In this film, in Cheri, Michelle Pfeiffer really shows why she is a star and a fine actress--for which she's never gotten enough credit. As if "star" is completely exclusive of "actress."

The camera is unrelenting, clealy showing that Pfeiffer is 50+. And while she has taken such good care of herself that she remains radiant, she is, indeed, well within middle age.

And her lover, played by Rupert Friend, is less than half her age... in the script. Friend is actually 27, but he plays a character who ages from 19 to 25, and he is believable at that age. Friend is youthful, foxily bright-eyed and lean, stunningly gorgeous in his period clothing. He is pettish, spoiled, and sexy, surprisingly both comic and heartbreaking.

The film documents the love affair between Lea (Pfeiffer), a courtesan contemplating retirement, and Cheri, the son of her rival. In one of the first scenes, they kiss... and the love affair is on. After six years, Cheri's mother (Bates, in a brilliant character role) finds the perfect wife for Cheri, the virginal daughter of another rival; Cheri leaves Lea and marries the daughter, leaving both lovers miserable.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCUdEXqiNZ0

One of the elements I love about the film is that it doesn't attempt to justify the love of a 40-some year-old woman for a 20-some year-old boy. Hampton and Frears present scenes of the interaction and sexuality between Lea and Cheri, and that must be enough... and it is, especially when we see them with others, with Cheri's ridiculously needy, selfish wife, Lea's new young musclebound lover, Cheri's manipulative mother, and the circle of sadly aging courtesans with whom Lea passes her time.

Lea has surrounded herself with beauty and luxury: her houses, her clothing, and all the material objects she can buy. Giving up her business--not taking on any more "lovers"--means her time and bed are empty. She has no hobbies, no skills, no interests beyond her former employment... except Cheri, who is her great passion and her first, true love. Surprisingly, he engages her as she engages him emotionally, intellectually, and physically. When the lovers part for his marriage, we know it is a mistake.

When they part for reasons less easily overcome, it is unsettling in the deepest way, calling into question all our philosophy and prejudices about romantic love, sophisticated sexuality, men and women, and even, somehow, human purpose.

As in The Grifters, Frears plays on the deepest human relationships, love and fear, our vulnerabilities, and the manner in which we deceive ourselves and, simultaneously, relentlessly reveal our own truths. It seems he is fearless, and enables his actors and actresses to be equally fearless: the final shot of Pfeiffer staring at herself in her own mirror is stunning, and revealing, and terrifying.

In an age when comedy panders to 13-year-old boys' wet dreams, film in general panders to directors' limited "graphic novel" obsessions, and while romantic comedies pander to "chick lit" fantasies of boringly domesticated (and dull) Prince Charmings, Cheri suggests that salvation is located... somewhere else, somewhere less safe and far more challenging.

See it, and pay attention to the layers beneath the froth.

Pearl

The Proposal

Wow, it feels like FOREVER since I reviewed a play or movie (see, I get my drah-ma in other places...).

But this afternoon I made a point of going to see The Proposal once my laundry was done (no, I did not do it until this morning). I had dinner with two friends last night (that I did check off my to-do list, of course), and she recommended it--HIGHLY.

So despite the fact that Sandra Bullock has been batting .333 in romantic comedy since Practical Magic (I.M.H.O.) I went.

Well. I enjoyed it--a lot. I'll give the cons right up front: I am really tired of senior citizens gettin' jiggy with sextalk and especially with Betty White doing so. I do not find it funny any more than I find babies saying "poop" and "shit" and "penis." Ugh. Also, Sandra Bullock's indictment of the Modern Working Woman's inability to do anything without her Louboutins is a tad embarrassing and stereotypically two-dimensional.

I worked in publishing for years and I will say this: without family money (New or Old) and/or marriage to a Park Avenue plastic surgeon NO WOMAN IN PUBLISHING, be she Editor-in-Chief or not, can afford to accessorize herself with the large-size Kelly Bag and multiple pairs of Louboutins and Louis Vuitton luggage sets, unless they were gifts from adoring fans.

IT IS NOT POSSIBLE.

OK, on to pros, which are substantial. First, I LIKE the chemistry between Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock -- finally, a co-star who isn't just a male stereotype. In fact, far from it: Reynolds' character is more honest than Bullock's, and the actor really shows his chops in terms of comic timing, physical humor, line delivery, and character development. Both Bullock and Reynolds are better than the script, which has its moments of intelligent humor (like the scenes where Bullock arrivs at work and everyone in the office reacts to her with fear, awe, and fear) but also pulls out some sorry moments that miss (like the only "exotic" dancer in Sitka, Alaska--it would have been better contextualized somehow, rather than allowing us to think, hey, maybe the writer is serious and this is the pinnacle of culture in that little town). Mary Steenburgen is under-used but wonderful as always; instead of bonding with Gammi Betty White, I'd like to have seen Reynolds' mother Steenburgen getting to know her new daughter-in-law-to-be Bullock: would have given more depth and nuance to the characters in total.

But... seriously, see it for Reynolds (who has already impressed me this summer in Wolverine--okay, mostly for his abs, but still....--and in Adventureland) and Bullock. They also handle the older woman/younger man thing with adroitness (finally!) and make it work. Yahoo! There's a reason older Bullock has a realtionship with younger Reynolds: he is her assistant. AND he is neither wimpy or too testosterone-laden to be believed. The writers and directors and characters are not embarassed nor apologetic for the age difference: they use it beautifully. See, it can be done. And for character performances by the editor-to-be-fired (and Bullock's lambasting of him), the INS man, and the super cute puppy.

I have to give praise to Bullock, who has refused to give up on romantic comedy at the same time she has refused to pretend to be an ingenue. Refreshing. This is not exactly His Girl Friday or The Lady Eve, but closer than Bullock has ever gotten to the witty, intelligent, physical comedy she would actually sparkle in. In fact, I would recommend Bullock look at Stanwyck's Ball of Fire and consider some kind of remake.

Go see The Proposal.

Pearl

P.S.: I worked for this woman when I was in publishing. I once overheard her tell the in-house head of advertising, regarding an ad that had run in the NYTimes Book Review with wrong information, that she planned to blame the advertising agency for the mistakes, because she didn't want anyone thinking she would employ someone in-house who was that stupid. And this was with her door open and the Voice that carried all the way down the hall to my little corner office... She could have taught Torquemada a few new tricks.