By Mark Pfeiffer

10/31/2003

Family dysfunction and the holidays go together like Thanksgiving turkey and cranberry sauce, all of which are found in Pieces of April. In a break from the apple-cheeked, girl-next-door types for which she is best known, Katie Holmes plays April, the family outcast trying to make amends with her dying mother Joy (Patricia Clarkson). April invites the family to her New York apartment for Thanksgiving. It’s a goodwill gesture and an opportunity to introduce her boyfriend Bobby (Derek Luke).

She intends to make the entire meal, including favorite family recipes; however, April isn’t an experienced cook--her oven doubles as a storage cabinet--and the stove breaks on the holiday morning. Determined not to disappoint her mother again, she traipses up and down the stairs looking for someone in the apartment building willing to loan her some oven time. Meanwhile, April’s father, mother, sister, brother, and grandmother make the drive, biding their time wondering how much of a disaster the meal will be.

The tense family dynamics are mined for much of Pieces of April’s humor, but writer-director Peter Hedges also finds room for the genuine love underneath all the sniping among family members. Pieces of April marks Hedges’ debut as a film director. His screenwriting credits include the adaptations of Nick Hornby’s novel About a Boy, Jane Hamilton’s A Map of the World, and his own book What’s Eating Gilbert Grape. Hedges visited Columbus, Ohio on October 28 for a benefit screening of Pieces of April. I met with the writer-director.

Mark Pfeiffer: Where did you get the idea for the film?

Peter Hedges: I'd heard about a group of young people who went to cook a turkey, and their oven didn't work. They were in New York City. It was Thanksgiving. They'd bought an apartment. So they had to go around the building and ask other people to use their ovens. I thought that would be a terrific way to throw people together who would normally not be together.

MP: Family interaction is a part of the screenplays that you've written. That's certainly the case in this movie. What is it about the way families communicate and don't communicate that interests you so much?

PH: Family is our first community, and maybe it’s because I came from a very interesting, volatile family, although I've never rendered them in any of the stories I've written, and because I grew up around so many interesting families. Most of the stories I love, from Glass Menagerie and Long Day's Journey Into Night, and many of the movies I love are about family. I'm drawn to families as that first community that we need to navigate. How do we emerge from our family and then find a family? A lot of Pieces of April to me is about the family you're born into but also the family you find, and it was the family you find that really compelled me to write this particular story.

MP: It's interesting you say that because About a Boy has a lot of the same things with the Will character.

PH: That's correct, the family he finds. That, of course, is from the Nick Hornby novel. I was one of the adapters of that book, but I know I was drawn to it for that reason, the idea that if you don't have a family, it's incumbent upon you to make one or to find one.

MP: What's striking about the film is what people say by not saying something, whether it's by omission or inflection or even through action in the end of the picture. How do you get the cast to be able to do something like that where a lot of what's said really isn't spoken?

PH: I love your question because increasingly for me film is about what you don't say and what you don't see. In this case, it wasn't difficult to get the cast to not say lines and not do certain actions because they understood that the power of the movie was going to come from the absence of certain moments and<

By Mark Pfeiffer

4/7/2003

Parminder Nagra

Bend It Like Beckham has won the hearts of moviegoers around the world, and now American audiences are being introduced to this lively and charming film. Director and co-screenwriter Gurinder Chadha tells the story of Jess Bharma (Parminder Nagra), a British teenager from an Indian family that is less than enamored with her football (soccer) obsession. Her mother, in particular, wishes Jess would learn to make traditional meals and find a nice Indian boy rather than spend time on the pitch. Jess’ idol is Manchester United and English national team star David Beckham, who possesses the enviable ability to curve the ball around defenders and into the goal, and her walls are decorated with his photos. Jules (Keira Knightley), a member of the all-women’s Hounslow Harriers, invites Jess to play on the team, forcing her to make a difficult choice. Should she follow her dream of playing football or lead the life her parents desire for her?




A year ago Bend It Like Beckham took the UK by storm, making the most money ever there at the box office for a British-financed, British-distributed film. Moviegoers in Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa also pushed the film to the top of the charts. Bend It Like Beckham nabbed audience favorite film awards at three international film festivals, including Toronto, and was nominated as Best European Film by the British Academy of Film and Television Arts, the UK equivalent of the Academy Awards. The film recently opened in the United States to enthusiastic critics’ reviews.




Parminder Nagra visited Columbus, Ohio on April 4 to promote the film’s local opening and kick off a new season of Major League Soccer. I met with the actress, whose appealing, buoyant performance is one of the film’s strengths.





Mark Pfeiffer: Obvious first question. The film's about football. Did you play before you got the role?




Parminder Nagra: No. I had to, with Keira, who plays Jules in the movie, we both had to go and train, and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, although he didn't have to play that much soccer in the film, he also came and joined in all the training sessions as well. We were taught by a guy called Simon Clifford, who has got a footballing scheme all across England and now spreading its wings called Futebol de Salao, and that teaches you the Brazilian method of playing football. So a lot of the flashy moves that you see in the film are down to him making us go home and just practice, practice, practice certain moves over and over again. So yes, there's a lot of intensive training.




MP: This is also your first feature film. What challenges did that present aside from all the football skills?










PN: I have to say the biggest challenge for me probably was the football skills, was the soccer. I've kind of been in the business for nearly coming up to ten years now, so in terms of the acting part of it, I really wasn't that daunted by it. It was for me the opportunity of actually being given the chance to do a big part on film and also for people al

By Mark Pfeiffer

8/15/2002

For most Sunday is a day of rest, but for Allison Moorer it was just another day to win converts to her underappreciated brand of country music. Touring in support of her new album Miss Fortune, she wowed a packed house at Smith’s Olde Bar in Atlanta, Georgia. (I estimate 150-200 crammed into the tiny club.)

The performance space at Smith’s Olde Bar sits at the top of a long staircase. Going into the small, dark room feels like gaining entry to the world’s coolest attic, where concerts are being staged for you and your friends. The intimate setting and Moorer’s terrific performance combined for the kind of show people will claim to have attended if she goes on to greater success.

Moorer and her five piece band opened with the bouncy “Think It Over”. The song’s mix of country and rock and roll set the tone for the evening. “Think It Over” also serves as a good introduction to Moorer the artist: independent, uncompromising, and pragmatic. The song’s narrator addresses a cheating man begging to be taken back. Moorer stands her ground, well aware of why he was unfaithful, why he’s returned, and that he’ll never change. “Think It Over” sets the relationship on her terms, a stance Moorer has also taken professionally.

Two more old songs followed before Moorer dipped into cuts from Miss Fortune. The evolving sound of the new material, “Can’t Get There From Here”, “Steal The Sun”, and “Let Go”, melded seamlessly with her prior work. “Can’t Get There From Here”, an excellent song co-written with Bruce Robison, was played at a pace somewhere between Robison’s slower Country Sunshine version and Moorer’s faster recorded interpretation.

Moorer’s voice was in fine form. She rendered the most fragile notes and punched the emotional chords with her sultry, Alabama drawl. A sticker on Miss Fortune’s packaging states that “absolutely no vocal tuning or pitch correction was used in the making of this record”. One listen to her in concert provides more than sufficient proof that Moorer has the vocal chops and doesn't need technological assistance. The band, jokingly referred to as Pole Cat Promenade for the evening, matched Moorer’s vocals with tight, skillful musicianship. One of the concert’s highlights was a searing version of “Day You Said Goodbye”, which found Moorer and band powerfully united. They jammed more than at any time to this point in the set, and the audience rewarded them with the concert’s most enthusiastic response. A gracious Moorer commented that at times she wonders why she continues doing what she does, especially considering her minimal commercial success, but reactions like that help remind her why.

Moorer transitioned to the soulful “Tumbling Down” and her debut album’s delicate “A Soft Place To Fall” before turning to the chilling “Dying Breed”. Without fail, any article about Moorer or her sister Shelby Lynne mentions the incomprehensible childhood tragedy in their family, so any knowledge of that incident adds to the wallop the song packs. Any autobiographical aspects aside--to be honest, interpreting this as a personal confession rather than a piece of dark, creative songwriting is likely misplaced--”Dying Breed”, a suicidal recounting, comes like a punch to the gut. Smith’s Olde Bar was pierced with silence during the song, a testament to Moorer’s stunning performance.

The raunchy, Rolling Stones-inflected “Ruby Jewel Was Here” picked up the mood, although the rollicking music obscured the sad story about a girl raised in a whorehouse. The respectful audience--yelled comments or requests were practically non-existent--took some prodding before participating in the sing-a-long drinking song “Bully Jones”, and the regular set wrapped with “Yessirree” and a blazing version of “No Next Time”.

For the encore Moorer came out to play keyboards and sing a stripped down “Cold In California”. The band rejoined her for a cover of Neil Young’s “Don’t

By Mark Pfeiffer

6/1/2002

To: Seth Paxton, Mark Pfeiffer
From: Edwin Pereyra
Subject: RE: George Washington

I viewed the film again last night in its entirety.
The first half leading to the tragic incident is now
the most engaging part of the film for me. After
that, it becomes a collection of tales of certain
people living in the South in one hot summer with the
lead character, George, carrying the entire film all
the way through.

The film touches upon the relationship of George’s
uncle and aunt, who, in themselves, are childless.
There’s Rico, whose father owns a business tied to the
railroad industry. He shows deep concern about other
folks in his town in maintaining their jobs while
having, in what appears to be, secret relations with a
black woman. The film talks about religion, as well.
Furthermore, there’s Nasia sitting around with some
older female friends and relatives whose conversations
revolve mostly about men and relationships. If there
is an observation, I would like to make is that the conversations of these individuals are unencumbered, worry free and mostly, philosophical in nature.

Still I wonder what purpose the tragic incident serves
as it relates to the remaining four child characters,
as it did not provide a turning point in their lives.
The incident and its results did not play out as I
would like it to be and there appeared to be very
little sense of loss given that one of the main themes
of the film is friendship. I would like to hear your
thoughts on this.

~Edwin

To: Edwin Pereyra, Mark Pfeiffer
From: Seth Paxton
Subject: RE: George Washington

Well, since the film is named after George I think his character is the most important. And if that is the case then Buddy's death certainly has a large effect on the film because that is what makes George flip out and become obsessed with being a super hero.

Remember that is Buddy's wrestling outfit that he puts on for one thing, and that one of his first heroic acts is to cleanse/baptize Buddy and lay him out to be found so there can a least be resolution for the family and for Buddy in some way. Plus, Buddy's death affects Sonya because she is troubled that the event didn't make her cry or feel upset. She is bothered by her own indifference.

Since the film is obviously more abstract to the point that the narrative structure is subdued, I think that perhaps the connection between scenes is meant to be the philosophy of each scene. That the concepts being discussed in one scene connect to the concepts of the scenes that will follow, even if the narrative connection seems broken and jumpy.

One moment I couldn't quite interpret was the extending scene of Rico just riding through town which was intercut with a scene with the kids (I forget the moment exactly now). I have a little trouble grasping that connection, but the length of time spent on Rico there plus the amount of cuts tells me that Green had something in mind for sure.

- Seth
To: Seth Paxton, Edwin Pereyra
From: Mark Pfeiffer
Subject: Turning point

Edwin, I think the tragedy is a big turning point, but we're just not
shown a lot of external reactions as far as emotions, etc. It is after
Buddy's death that George begins to work on becoming a superhero. Vernon
seriously questions what he should do with his life. Recall the second
scene in the rundown bathroom. Vernon sits on the floor and chastises
Sonya that she isn't acting any different. She recognizes that she
doesn't feel anything and believes herself to be a bad person. All of
their actions in the second half of the film spin out of the accident.

Perhaps the reason you don't feel it didn't have much impact is because Green
doesn't dwell directly on it. The characters feelings and comments are
mostly internalized, but it is through their actions that we see how they
were affected. George atones, in a way, by saving the boy with the neck
brace who was drowni

By Mark Pfeiffer

5/31/2002

To: Edwin Pereyra, Mark Pfeiffer
From: Seth Paxton
Subject: RE: George Washington

Hmmm, hope it's okay to go back to back in my responses. Since I had more
to say about stuff you covered, I will.

First, I saw it on a LBX VHS which was all that was available to me. But I
am able to look past shimmering and fuzziness and fill in those presentation
gaps. I love the use of the 2.35 here simply because that goes against the
"talky art house" convention. A film with these types of moments usually
goes for the more intimate 1.85 or sometimes even Academy ratio, not to
mention a grainier look.

I agree about the rhythms thing. I've found that I have very little trouble
shifting into that paradigm of viewing now, but it has taken numerous
viewings of other films that use this same style. While I love great
narrative film, I am totally fascinated with the idea of connecting
scenes/images via an alternative linking, like emotional or conceptual.
Just look at something like Vertov's Man with a Movie Camera which
abstracts the narrative and connects the variety of images either using the
Kuleshov Effect to imply similarities between very different images (like an
opening eyelid with an opening window shutter) or by relying on the implied
similarities between subjects (like sport and military service). These
films are very watchable, but they do present a challenge at first.

I do think that scene to scene we are being led somewhere, it's simply that
the method of leading us is not by following the story along. Certainly a
story is there but it's obviously not the backbone of the flow.

Speaking on the photography again, what about the shooting of the rundown
parts of town. Roofs filled with holes, rusty metal, junkyards and
abandoned places. To me there was a feeling that we are seeing all of these
flaws in life, but that the characters still find happiness there. There is
a lot of love and friendship around the kids and their life is not portrayed
as all that abnormal in it's basics. The odd details are there, but not
enough to alienate us from the kids.

I don't think he becomes a hero in life, but that in her eyes he will. I
think that gives a message that life can be what we see in it, but that
won't automatically make others see things our way. It was a poignant
moment for me when Nasia says "But who am I, my dad is a scientist and my
mom creates new perfumes" or something like that. There is a duality of
being special or being special in someone else's eyes, but at the same time
we are all just people too. It's like the kids are looking for more than
there really is and that learning this is a big part of growing up.

- Seth

To: Seth Paxton, Edwin Pereyra
From: Mark Pfeiffer
Subject: Depictions of childhood

I'd never thought of Huck Finn in conjunction with this film, but I
think it's an apt comparison. Good call Seth. The main characters in
both are mired in poverty but find joy where they can. They have
adventures, markedly more modest ones in GW but adventures nonetheless,
and struggle with issues of parental absence or distance. It's been a
long time since I've read Twain's books, but I may have to crack one open
to explore this more fully. Both strike me as archetypal portrayals of the
South and of childhood.

Speaking of the kids, I was thrilled to see a film that lets kids be kids
instead of miniature adults. The fast-talking, wisecracking moppet may be
one of my greatest aggravations in movies, so I really appreciate it when
a filmmaker shows kids how they are in all their mumbling and confident ways.
That's where a lot of the humor comes from, just the odd things kids say.
George lists his heroes and includes the Great Wall of China. There's a
different thought process, probably a more free associative one. That
could be why Green's style works so well with his subject matter. He makes
leaps that d