“Boston is adrift in the brave new competition among big American cities vying for tourist dollars.” Maureen Dezell, WBUR

Maureen made that charge back in July 2006 in an article that turned out to be one of the last posts on the late WBUR Arts Online. Now that the quote, along with a link to the piece, is part of an invitation to an Arts & Business Council of Greater Boston workshop on April 23 where, for $50, attendees can listen to experts talk about ways that we can “create for Boston and Massachusetts what Philadelphia and Pennsylvania have successfully done” to encourage cultural tourism. The latest news out of Philadelphia is that Boston has its work cut out for it — Philly is surging ahead. (more…)

A recent study in Editor & Publisher delivers the lowdown; with its circulation down about 20% in four years, The Boston Globe is in free fall. Two major investors in The New York Times, which owns the Globe, are “challenging the company’s investment decisions, including its commitment to the struggling newspaper industry beyond the flagship New York Times. Like many analysts, they see The Boston Globe and a group of 15 local papers as a drain on the company, which should, they argue, be focused on extracting the greatest possible advantage from the Times brand.” Bloomberg reports the taxman may be the paper’s savior: “The Times’ low tax basis on the Globe makes a sale unattractive because a large portion of proceeds would go to the government, she [NYT Chief Executive Janet Robinson] said.” (more…)

Stephen Sondheim has written the music and lyrics of at least a half dozen of the twentieth century’s greatest works for the musical theater. One of them is – to provide its full title – Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. It has now been turned into a movie, which opens nationwide today.

Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter confer in Sweeney Todd.
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Before you say “I told you so,” let me explain. I wasn’t expecting “Annie Hall.” I thought “Because I Said So” might be likable in a “Something’s Gotta Give” kind of way. I was wrong.

Diane Keaton’s latest star vehicle is an empty vessel of a romantic comedy, pieced together by poorly scripted slapstick, boring dialogue, and too many genre clichés.

Here’s the story: High-strung single mother of three grown daughters Daphne Wilder (Diane Keaton) wants to ensure that her youngest, Milly (Mandy Moore), isn’t doomed to spinsterdom. The meddling mom secretly places a personal ad for her daughter, hoping to select Milly’s Mr. Right and trick her into thinking she finds him herself.

The script leaves the actors little to work with. Keaton’s character is an unconvincing combination of aggression and innocence. Moore shows that she has some emotional range but is given little of substance to say or do. Lauren Graham (who proved her knack for comedic timing in the hit teen drama “Gilmore Girls”) is pretty well stifled in the role of the most grounded Wilder sister, a psychologist bothered by an attention-craving patient. The third Wilder sister, played by Piper Perabo, has only a handful of lines and barely appears in the film (except to scold her mother’s overbearing nature and to divulge embarrassing details about her sex life).

The dialogue is mostly made up of generic mother-daughter arguments (”Stay out of my personal life,” “But I know what’s best!”) and concessions (”I just love you so much, daughter.” “Oh, mom, me too.”) with awkward mother-daughter sex talk interspersed throughout. On one shoe-shopping excursion, the Wilder daughters talk explicitly with their mother about the intimate details of relationships with their husbands and boyfriends– helpful sound effects included, of course.

But the scenes with sound are a relative blessing, given how low physical comedy takes the film. In at least three scenes, Keaton trips and flails before clumsily dropping a large, elaborately-decorated cake. Her daughters are often juggling armloads of things, too. None of it works.

The rest of the film is a series of weak genre clichés:

• A romantically-impaired character checks her answering machines, only to hear “you have no new messages” (doesn’t everyone have voicemail now anyway?).

• A pair of Asian beauticians talk about the main characters as they massage them. Thanks to subtitles we’re in on all the crude laugh lines. Lucky us.

• Of course, the grand-finale romantic speech given in front of a group of strangers who are moved to applause by the hackneyed gesture.

Finally, costumers have Keaton dressed in a strange bandana-like scarf in one scene and a jacket and bow tie in another. She could pull off that kind of fashion quirkiness in 1977, but now it is contrived.

My advice: Go watch the trailer on the official site. It will give you that romantic comedy warm fuzziness without having to sit through the actual film. Why? Because I said so, that’s why.

Moulin Rogue hinted at it. Hedwig and the Angry Inch made it cool. Everyone Says I Love You nearly killed it. This month’s release Mel Brooks’ movie-turned –musical-turned movie musical, The Producers, has made it official. Ladies and gentlemen, we are now entering the second age of the movie musical. (more…)