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Medianotes

Surprised by charm — At Christmas my 9-year-old daughter, Kate, told me that she very much wanted to see three movies: "The Water Horse," "The Golden Compass," and "Enchanted." Being interested in cryptozoology, I was keen on "The Water Horse." "The Golden Compass" looked promising, filled with drama and action. The prospect of seeing "Enchanted," however, left me rather cold; Disney, I'm afraid, just doesn't agree with me. I had it in mind to let her mother or an auntie take her to that one.

While on a trip to Boston a few days later, I proposed to Kate that we take in a movie. She chose "Enchanted" (directed by Kevin Lima; Disney, 2007, 107 minutes). Resigned to 90-plus minutes of ennui, I put down 16 bucks for the matinee.

What I saw was a charming story full of drollery and whimsy, with a bit of self-parody thrown in. And there was no need to visit the concession stand, for a delicious piece of eye candy (Amy Adams) filled the screen.

This is Ms. Adams' movie. We see her first as an animated character, a fairy princess-to-be named Giselle, who is pushed down a well at the behest of a jealous virago (Susan Sarandon), the stepmother of the fairyland's handsome but dim prince. She emerges (now in the flesh) in Times Square, where she falls into the arms of Robert, a lawyer and single dad (nicely underplayed by Patrick Dempsey). The evolving relationship between the two requires multiple suspensions of disbelief — but there's too much fun along the way for us to care.

Two musical numbers, both superbly choreographed and one containing some nice animation to boot, put the movie into overdrive. It rarely slows down from there, and when it does, one simply switches to feasting one's eyes on the lovely Ms. Adams.

A love triangle develops between Robert, Giselle, and her prince (James Marsden), who like her is transformed from cartoon to flesh by traveling down the well to New York. A further complication is the presence of Robert's fiancée (Idina Menzel). All is resolved in an utterly over-the-top conclusion involving a costume ball, Ms. Sarandon as a dragon, and a scene reminiscent of the climax of "King Kong." But no matter. Love triumphs as it should, and everyone (except the dragon) lives, we must presume, happily ever after.

Of particular note is the film's subtle send-up of Disney movies in general, and "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves" in particular. For a Disneyphobe like me, this made the movie easier to take. The wonderful performance of Ms. Adams did the rest.

"Enchanted" is fine for children as young as seven. It should not be underrated as a date movie. The guy who takes his girl to it will score high on both the romance and sensitivity scales, and is likely to receive an appropriate reward. — Jon Harrison

Not at all — A new play by Mark Twain? Hasn't he been dead for nearly a century? Well, yes. But "Is He Dead?" (directed by Michael Blakemore; Lyceum Theater, Broadway) is indeed a new play by America's original humorist, rediscovered in a UC Berkeley filing cabinet five years ago by Twain scholar Shelley Fisher Fishkin and adapted for Broadway by playwright David Ives. The play is based loosely on real-life artist Jean-Francois Millet ("The Gleaners," "The Angelus") whose works enjoyed a bidding frenzy after his death.

Starring Tony winner Norbert Leo Butz as the starving artist whose friends and colleagues are about to be thrown to the wolves by a dastardly landlord, this play combines the best of melodrama and farce, including mistaken identities, unrequited love, bawdy humor, a coffin in the parlor, and a lead character in drag.

When a potential customer withdraws his offer to purchase one of Millet's paintings after learning that the artist is still alive, Millet and his friends concoct a plan to stage his terminal illness and eventual death in order to drive his prices up. Butz consequently appears in most of the play as his "twin sister" Daisy Tillou, who is comforted by Millet's grieving girlfriend and courted by both the dastardly landlord and the father of his girlfriend. Yes, mayhem ensues.

Pacing and confusion are everything in farce; good farce is not so much directed as choreographed. Even the funniest script will fall flat if the production does not gather speed and energy as the play progresses — and this is not the funniest script. Fortunately, however, the timing of Michael Blakemore's direction is close to perfect. At the play's climax Butz has stashed 2 suitors, 2 girlfriends, 3 royal visitors, and a police inspector in various side rooms, with satisfyingly frenetic opening and slamming of doors as he tries to keep each from learning about the other. Butz, who proved in "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" that he will stop at nothing for a good laugh, leads an excellent cast.

Bankrupt and worried about his own legacy when he wrote this play in 1898, Twain would probably be pleased to see the box office receipts of this production, whose biggest draw is the fame of its dead playwright. See it while the original cast is still in the production. — Jo Ann Skousen

Blueprint for tough situations — "Juno" (directed by Jason Reitman; Fox Searchlight, 2007, 96 minutes), a film about a 16-year-old girl who must decide what to do when she becomes pregnant, is timely and topical. More importantly, however, the film is witty, engaging, and emotionally moving without being preachy or political.

The film opens with Juno (Ellen Page) taking her third home pregnancy test of the day, hoping each time that the results of the previous tests have been wrong. Typical of a 16-year-old, when the truth of the pink plus sets in, she turns first to her friends rather than to her parents for advice and heads for the most convenient solution, the local abortion clinic. A picketer in front of the clinic proclaiming "abortion is murder" does not sway her, but the information that her 12-week-old fetus already has fingernails does. She flees the clinic and turns to the next best option: the classified ads in the PennySaver. There, next to ads for puppies and cockatoos, she finds a couple (Jason Bateman and Jennifer Garner) seeking to adopt a baby.

When Juno finally tells her parents (J.K. Simmons and the marvelous Allison Janney) about her pregnancy, they react wonderfully — surprised, yes, and dismayed, but without anger or recrimination. Like the rest of the film, the scene is witty, the comic timing spot on, the undercurrent of affection solid. They listen to her plans and support her decision, as good parents in a bad situation should do. On occasion I have had college students come to me with serious problems, including two who were pregnant and one who had AIDS. Each time I urged them to tell their parents, and each time they were amazed to discover how supportive, loving, and nonjudgmental their parents turned out to be. This film is a blueprint for how to handle a tough situation.

I also appreciate the film's liberal approach to choosing an adoptive family, challenging the idea that adoptive parents must be icons of "wholesome spirituality." Why should adoptive parents be held to a higher standard of perfection than natural parents are? Juno is edgy, creative, and musical, and she lives with her father and stepmother. She wants parents for her child who are also edgy and creative, and is drawn to the adoptive father's interest in alternative music and campy horror movies.

The film also challenges the current trend of open adoptions, whereby the natural mother maintains an interest and connection with the child. "I'd be happy to just pop the thing out and hand it to you right now," she tells the adoptive parents when they suggest she might want letters and pictures throughout the child's life. Juno recognizes that she is merely the conduit, and they are the parents. Still, no matter how logical and practical the decision is to give a child up for adoption, it is the hardest one a girl will ever make. I was touched by Juno's father's words of comfort in the delivery room: "You'll be here again someday, on your own terms."

Despite all the wise decisions and sensitive parenting portrayed in this film, it is not likely to be embraced by the Religious Right. The casual conversations about sex, full of crude slang, are off-putting at first, and the sardonic, wisecracking personality of the title character seems more appropriate to a worldly college student than a high school junior who has gotten pregnant from her first sexual encounter. And that's a shame, because once you get past the casual vulgarity of the first ten minutes, the film settles into becoming a gem. We've had enough glorification of single parenting; Juno is a sparkling, savvy, self-assured, and noble role model whose footsteps are well worth following. — Jo Ann Skousen

Aiming for redemption — Theologically, the word "atonement" is often separated into its parts — at-one-ment — in order to demonstrate that the concept means to become united (at one) with God. But this handy wordplay oversimplifies the mystical concept of atonement by focusing on the outcome rather than the process of becoming whole again. It trivializes the oft-painful relationship between transgression and the search for solace, and overlooks the transgressor's role in trying to make amends for an injury that may be beyond repair.

In the film "Atonement" (directed by Joe Wright; Working Title Films/Universal, 2007, 123 minutes), young Briony Tallis (Saoirse Ronan), who fancies herself a writer, happens to see a series of events between her older sister Cecilia (Keira Knightley) and Robbie Turner (James McAvoy), a man on whom Briony has an adolescent crush. Motivated by jealousy, confusion, and an overactive imagination, she accuses Robbie of rape. Once an aspiring doctor, Robbie is sent to prison and from there to the front lines of World War II; Cecilia leaves home; Briony abandons her opportunity for college to become a nurse; and both families are irreparably shattered.

Occasionally the story is hard to follow, especially in the war scenes and in an odd conversation between the older Briony (Romola Garai) and a wounded French soldier. I suspect that these are areas where the story was streamlined in the interest of time, and that reading the book by Ian McEwan on which the film is based would clear up the confusion.

All of the actors perform well, the way one expects actors to perform in a British period film. Vanessa Redgrave delivers a knockout performance that seems to have come from deep within her own regrets over past transgressions. But it is the often unsung artists, led by supervising art director Ian Bailie, who make this film soar.

Like many period pieces, "Atonement" begins slowly, luxuriating in the gorgeous north England setting and the handsomely appointed country mansion — castle, really — where the Tallis family resides. A film based on bringing a secret to light, "Atonement" is exquisitely lit, both in its interior and exterior scenes. Camera angles and panoramas seem to have been meticulously planned and executed (by cinematographer Seamus McGarvey), adding to the mystique of the story, which is often told and then told again, first from the incomplete perspective of the naive and imaginative eyewitness and then backing up to fill in details that exonerate the young lovers.

Perhaps the most creative artistry is the lush, romantic soundtrack by Dario Marionelli, who incorporates the story into his music in imaginative ways. As the film opens he turns Briony's typewriter into a percussive instrument, returning to its motif throughout the film. When a distraught Mrs. Turner (Brenda Blethyn) pounds on the police car that is taking her son Robbie to jail, Marionelli uses her pounding to form the driving rhythm of the music. During one orchestral passage a harmonica is highlighted, just before we see a soldier in the distance, playing the harmonica. In another, a piano key is struck repeatedly, ending with a "plunk" as a petulant Briony pulls the string of the family piano. Each intrusion is an unexpected delight, drawing attention to the music without distracting from the film.

As a nurse five years later, Briony seems determined to atone for her sin of false witness by caring for the wounded soldiers who are shipped back to London. Their shattered bodies stand in for the lives she has shattered. Musically the typewriter motif begins to sound like bullets, metaphorically communicating that words are weapons that can wound and even kill. The ending is a powerful statement about atonement — reparation, making amends, seeking wholeness and at-one-ment when the injured party has been broken beyond repair. — Jo Ann Skousen

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