Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique does Beethoven justice with period instruments

Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique: Beethoven as he was meant to be heard

By Dwight Casimere

New York—John Eliot Gardiner and his Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique swept into the Isaac Stern Auditorium of Carnegie Hall on Prometheus’s chariot in a two-day celebration of the genius of Ludwig von Beethoven. Playing period instruments, not unlike the ones the great Maestro would have encountered in his day, the orchestra injected new life into some of the most performed music of the modern concert stage with a vitality that made it seem as if the scores had just been written. This is Beethoven as he might have heard it, were it not for the advancing deafness that historians say he suffered from.

Gardiner modeled is ensemble after the French orchestra and the Leipzig Gewandhaus, the primary proponents of Beethoven’s music after his death. Their sense of ‘divine mission’ permeates everything they play. Each of the instrumentalists plays as if his or her life depended upon it. Their fervor is best exemplified by the intense expression of rapture on the face and the stream of sweat from the tousle-haired brow of the lead cellist in the front row, who seemed to be in the throes of rapture with each furious stroke of his bow.

Overture to Egmont was part of a set of compositions written as incidental music for the 1787 play by Goethe, which tells the story of the Flemish Martyr Count Egmont, who sacrificed his life so that his fellow citizens might be spared genocide at the hands of the occupying Spanish. Gardiner and his eager ensemble, which contains quite a few exceptional female members, presented it with all of the heroic thunder it deserved. The horns, distinctive from their modern counterparts because they are valveless, made a stately declaration. There was one tiny flutter from one of the horns going into the eight bars leading to the finale, but the rest was spot on.

Symphony No. 7 was a study in exuberance. Maestro Gardiner took the dance-like rhythmic notations of the Allegro con brio to heart, making side-to-side steps approaching the Electric Slide.

His handling of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 made the case for the primacy of period instruments. From the opening bars, which contain the most familiar musical phrase of all time, the sense of exilaration permeated the air. The rounded, burnished sound of the brass and woodwinds made the phrasing of the Second Movement, Andante con moto, seem even more fraught with dramatic tension. Think the Royal Lipizzaner of the Spanish Riding School in perfect formation in a stately gait around the arena. The Allegro was full of fireworks as Gardiner dug his heels into their ribs, urging them to full gallop, the bracing wind flying through their collective mane.

Bernard Haitink, New York Philharmonic paint vivid portraits of Strauss's Don Quixote and Beethoven's Pastorale

by Dwight Casimere

NEW YORK- I last saw the esteemed conductor, Bernard Haitink in a two-week residency with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducting programs of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony and Haydn’s Creation. Both performances stand as monuments to his greatness.

With great anticipation, I rushed to Avery Fisher Hall in Lincoln Center to hear him Guest Conduct the New York Philharmonic in Richard Strauss’s illustrious tone poem, Don Quixote (Introduction, Theme with Variations, and Finale) and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6, Pastoral. The evening could not have been more sublime.

At 82 years of age, Maestro Haitink displays the type of economy of movement and interpretation that eschews the flashy and unnecessary. All pretenses are stripped away and only that which is essential to the mission at hand is introduced. Entrances and exits are clean and crisp. Tempos are precise and unhurried. Nuances in tonal color and balance are carefully observed and inner voices of instrumental embellishments and subtleties are brought to the fore with utmost clarity. In short, you become aware of things in the most often played symphonies, such as Beethoven’s Pastoral, that you had never noticed before.

Strauss’s Don Quixote started simply enough, with the orchestra’s Principal Cellist Carter Brey and Principal Viola Cynthia Phelps as soloists. Both the conductor and soloists gained intensity as the work recounted the misguided, but well-intentioned travails of Cervantes’s beloved knight-errant and his chivalrous missteps, along with his faithful sidekick, Sancho Panza. Ms. Phelps and Mr. Brey indulged in a bracing point, counter-point, particularly in the bracing Variation IX (Fast and Stormy). The Wind Machine, used to depict Don Quixote and Sancho in imaginary flight across the sky in Variation VII (A Bit More Calm than the Preceding), is used sparingly, but effectively.

Maestro Haitink brings it all to a peaceful conclusion, with dreamlike serenity.

As energetic as the Don Quixote was at times, Maestro Haitink and the New York Philharmonic created an atmosphere of verdant hills and fertile valleys that belie what history tells us was the tumult of the composer’s personal life and the political and social upheaval of his time.

In 1808, when the majority of the Pastoral was composed, Beethoven was in the advanced stages of hearing loss and his beloved Vienna was a hotbed of unrest. The composer would escape often to the countryside to the homes of wealthy friends and benefactors. It was out of these forays into the peaceful refuge of nature that the Pastoral was born. Themes, like blossoming flowers appear and dissipate as new life emerges among the violas, cellos and woodwinds. Haitink carefully controlled the entrances and exits of these subtle voices, to achieve an exquisite equipoise of sound. A smoldering intensity dominated the Allegro: Thunderstorm. Flutes and trumpets played eloquently in the Allegretto: Shepherd’s Song.

Solti protege conducts CSO probe of 20th Century Masters

Solti protégé conducts CSO probe of early 20^th Century Masters

By Dwight Casimere

Conductor Stephane Deneve photo by Drew Farrell

Leonadis Kavakos photo

© Nicolas Brodard

It’s hard to believe that music of the early 20^th century is now a part of history and that the world’s major symphony orchestras are now involved in archival explorations of the music of that period, as the Chicago Symphony Orchestra continues its own one-hundred year retrospective.

Maurice Ravel conducted his musical portrait, Suite No. 2 from Daphnis and Chloe with the Chicago Symphony in 1928 as part of his whirlwind international tour. Originally commissioned as ballet music for the legendary Sergei Diaghilev and his Ballets Russes, with the great Nijinsky as principal dancer and Pierre Monteux, who was later credited with molding both the San Francisco and Boston Symphony Orchestras.

Suite No. 2 opens with Daybreak. As written by Ravel, it is considered the most musically graphic and captivating depiction of the sounds of nature in its rustling awakenings. Ravel’s use of tonal color and dynamic variation is masterful. All of the instruments of the orchestra are used to create various shades of sound that reflect tonally like rays of light off the facets of diamonds.

All of the musicians responded with one of the most incandescent readings in this reviewer’s memory. Particularly so, the solo work of Principal Flute Mathieu Dufour.

Guest Conductor Stephane Deneve, a protégé of the late, legendary CSO Music Director Sir Georg Solti, brought much of his mentor’s sensibility to the podium when he conducted the recent subscription series program of the Ravel Suite, preceded by The Spider’s Feast, Symphonic Fragments by Ravel’s French contemporary Albert Roussel and Sergei Prokofiev’s Suite from the opera, The Love of Three Oranges, and his stunning Violin Concerto No. 2 in G Minor played by the dazzling young Athens-born violin sensation, Leonidas Kavakos.

Kavakos, winner of both the Sibelius and Paganini competitions, caused his Abergavenny Stradivarius to literally sing through the complex maze of pizzicato triplets that dominates the bombastic finale. Castanets, cymbals and snare drums accompanied by blazing trumpets soared in the background, but Kavakos’ ringing violin dominated the assemblage throughout the thundering conclusion.

Prokofiev’s Suite from The Love of Three Oranges similarly displayed the CSO’s virtuosity with showy, percussion and brass-heavy compositions. Conductor Deneve mined the extraordinary talents of the orchestra’s superior Brass and Percussion sections to achieve a searing performance that was full throttle from beginning to end. Principal Trumpet Christopher Martin made a commanding declaration of the symphony’s Main Theme. Principal Tuba Gene Pokorny and Trombone Jay Friedman provided urgent punctuation throughout.

Devene is quite an athletic conductor, with sweeping arcs for arm movements. So involved was he at one point in the finale, he nearly seemed to levitate off the podium. His massive mane of honey-blond hair also seemed to get into the act, Dudamel-style, with its own set of rhythmic movements.

Semyon Bychkov conducts the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in a program featuring Strauss’ Ein Heldenleben and the luminous Labeque sisters in Francis Poulenc’s Concerto for Two Pianos Thursday and Friday, Nov. 17 & 18 at 8pm and Sun. Nov. 20 at 3pm. For tickets and information, visit cso.org.

Ravi Coltrane-John Scofield recall Chicago South Side jazz "temples" in SCP Jazz sets

Ravi Coltrane Trio/John Scofield Quartet at Symphony Center SCP Jazz Series

by Dwight Casimere

There was a time in the 1950s through early 1970s when Chicago’s South Side was rife with lounges and nightclubs where ensemble jazz was king. Artists, such as Ahmad Jamal, Gene Ammons, Sonny Stitt, Charles Earland and Johnny Hartman were fixtures at places like McKee’s Show lounge, the Brown Derby (now undergoing a revival at the King Tut Room on the South Side with weekend-only performances by local artists such as Maggie Brown, daughter of Oscar Brown, Jr.) and the Apartment Lounge, the last remaining, with Tuesday night shows by renowned octogenarian jazz saxophonist Von Freeman.

Tenor Saxophonist Ravi Coltrane and Guitarist John Scofield might have been channeling those hallowed days in their recent appearance at Chicago’s Symphony Center Presents SCP Jazz Series an intimate pair of sets more apt to be heard in the confine of a small nightclub rather than the cavernous expanse of a symphony hall. Coltrane, the son of jazz saxophone deity John Coltrane, eschewed his normal quartet configuration to appear with a trio, accompanied by Bassist Robert Hurst and Drummer Karriem Riggins.

Known for his fiery forays into musical frontiers bordering on Free Jazz, Coltrane offered a probing set that was most movingly capped by a poetic reading of the evergreen Vernon Duke song Autumn in New York and an emotional tribute to the late poet Zoe Anglesey entitled For Zoe. (Anglesey (1941-2003) was a poet, writer and jazz critic who championed Coltrane’s nascent career. The two remained close friends until her death from lounge cancer.)

John Scofield must have gotten the memo and delivered a set of chamber music jazz that similarly evoked the atmosphere of an intimate cabaret setting.

Unlike Coltrane, who learned of his father’s preeminence through his musician-mother Alice Coltrane, Scofield performed regularly with all of the jazz legends of that vaunted era. As soloist, front man, composer and arranger, he was immortalized on recordings with such jazz gurus s Gerry Mulligan, Chet Baker and Charles Mingus. His 1980s recordings and world tour with Miles Davis are legend.

Scofield brought an untamed Rock sensibility to the jazz scene at a time when the music was threatened with extinction and sparked a renewed interest and revival among a younger, more eclectic audience.

It was the voice of legends that he was echoing from the Armour Stage in a set that reflected the musical attitude of his acoustic album Quiet (Verve, 1996) rather than his out-and-out Funk album A Go Go (1997) or Bump (2000). The most sublime moment of his entire effort was the Victor Young/Ned Washington song My Foolish Heart from the 1949 film of the same name. Scofield, best known for creating a searing, almost supernatural tone from his guitar, caressed the melody line and coaxed his strings to play lyrical lines that eerily recalled the vocal version by Billy Eckstine that became a million seller. Pianist Michael Eckroth lovingly recalled the genius of the late Bill Evans; another artist closely associated with the song, in his long, pensive ruminations on this emotionally charged classic.

Scofield further paid tribute to South Side Chicago Jazz with the Lionel Hampton tune My Little Red Top, which was popularized by saxophone powerhouse Gene Ammons in a 1947 recording. “Do you know this was recorded by Gene Ammons just a few blocks from here on the South Side?” Scofield told the crowd from the stage. (The Mercury recording lists Ammons as the composer.) After the brief history lesson, Scofield launched into a spirited rendition of “Green Tea” from the A Go Go album, recalling the hard-rocking John Scofield of old.

Roy Haynes and Fountain of Youth Band with Special Guest Roy Hargrove on trumpet, grace the Armour Stage Friday, December 9 at 8pm in the next installment of Symphony Center Presents SCP Jazz. For tickets and information, visit cso.org/jazz.

Broadway In Chicago: Baby Boomer's Night Out

BROADWAY IN CHICAGO: ROCK OF AGES-BABY BOOMERS NIGHT OUT

Photos courtesy Phoenix Entertainment

This weekend would be a great time to break out those old faded jeans that may be two sizes too small, and head on down to the Oriental Theatre for some steamy Rock ‘n Roll. The five-time Tony Award nominated musical slithers its way onto the stage for one weekend only, through Sunday, November 13, with the iconic songs of Whitesnake, Journey, Styx, Reo, Speedwagon, Foreigner and Pat Benatar. You’ll be happy you did it. The high-energy show is just the sort of last-minute rush you’ll need before the Holiday treacle starts to settle in!

Rock of Ages relives the Go-Go, Reagan-era of the late ‘80s, when Rock ‘n Roll reigned supreme. The action unfolds at a hardscrabble Hollywood Rock Club ‘cum strip joint called The Bourbon on Sunset Strip. With Book by Chris D’Arienzo and Direction Re-Created by Adam John Hunter from original Director Kristin Hangii and Choreography Re-Created by Marcos Santana from the original Choreography by Kelly Devine, the show bristles with raw energy.

Artistic Producer Michael McFadden and Set Design from Beowulf Borritt deserve

The plot is as thin as a wisp of Pat Benatar’s hair, but this is not Masterpiece Theatre. It’s all about the music, and there’s plenty of it provided by the high-energy Rock of Ages Band, conducted by Darren Ledbetter. The dancer numbers, especially the imaginative ‘lap dance’ scene in the second act, really set the decibel reading beyond the red line.

Rock of Ages tells the story of two star-struck kids from nowheresville, Drew (Dominique Scott) and Sherri Shannon Mullen), who decide to head to the bright lights of Tinsel Town and make it big on the Rock stage. The land on the Sunset Strip in 1987, in what was then L.A.’s most legendary rock club. They believe their dreams will finally realized until they suddenly learn that the club is about to be razed by the wrecker’s ball, because of the machinations of an evil German developer, Hertz (an uproarious Philip Peterson, with the world’s worst fake German accent, played for laughs) and his quasi-Gay son Franz (Stephen Michael Kane), who delivers the shows funniest line (I’m not Gay, I’m German!).

The plan to turn Sunset Strip into a replica of Times Square brings about the musical’s most rousing ensemble number, Starship’s We Built This City.” Justin Colombo as Lonny the narrator consistently keeps things moving along with his bright humor and deft sense of comedic timing. Amma Osei as Mother is the real show-stealer, however, with her rock the house, Gospel tinged voice. We could have heard a lot more from her. Matt Nolan is a blaze of sequins, skin and sexy-sweat bravado as Stacee Jaxx. There’s one hilarious ‘love’ scene that has he and Sherrie having a hookup in a bathroom stall that is one of the most imaginative bits of choreography ever. There's tons of raunchy humor and tongue in cheek (pardon the pun) sexual innuendo and a few off-color remarks about gays (it’s the ‘80s, remember!), but all of it is in good fun. It all climaxes with the full ensemble and the audience rockin’ out to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’. On that note, how can you possibly go wrong?

Did I mention that you can now get drinks served at your seat with a pre-paid ticket at the Oriental Theatre? It doesn’t get much better than that!

For tickets and showdtimes, visit broadwayinchicago.com.

The Actor: well deserved Oscar buzz for a 'new' classic

Story and photos by Dwight Casimere

Actor James Cromwell with Dwight The Connoisseur

The Director and Cast of The Artist in a news conference at the New York Film Festival

Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo star in The Artist/Photo courtesy The Weinstein Company

NEW YORK-The most delightful film to premiere at this year’s New York Film Festival is the black and white silent movie “The Artist” from The Weinstein Company and Warner Bros. That’s right, I said silent and black and white!

The film goes against the grain of modern day filmmaking techniques and that’s exactly where its charm and empirical stature lie. The film has already received a 5 star review from its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival, which also bestowed the Best Actor Award upon its star, French actor Jean Dujardin who plays the lead character, George Valentin, who bears and uncanny resemblance to William Powell of The Thin Man fame. (There’s even a cute Jack Russell terrier, which plays his sidekick, which bears a remarkable resemblance to Asta.) The film opens in theatres nationwide Wednesday, November 23.

French film Director Michel Hazanavicius (Nest, Lost in Rio, which also starred Dujardin) gets everything right in The Artist. The framing, in the box format typical of old movies, rather than the wide screen format of today’s films, and a warm black and white chroma that evokes the films 1920s Hollywood, gives the film an authentic feel without drawing attention itself. Add magnificent sets and costumes, a terrific cast, including luminous Argentinean actress Bernice Bejo and the U.S.’s terrific John Goodman and (my personal favorite) James Cromwell (Babe, LA Confidential) and you have the makings of a marvelous film experience.

“The care that went into this film is astounding,” Cromwell said in a post screening news conference at the Lincoln Center Film Society. “You can really see it frame by frame. It was a true delight to work on this film because of the level of care and professionalism.”

The Artist centers on George Valentin (Dujardin), a dashing, arrogant screen idol in the tradition of Douglas Fairbanks. Everything is going swimmingly as he battles secret agents in the spy films A German Affair and A Russian Affair, but he gets blind-sided with the sudden arrival of Talkies. Goodman plays the studio exec heavy, in the tradition of Jack Warner. He plays the character in all its oily bravado without going over the top.

The great thing about this film is that the acting is all done without dialogue. The actors convey the action, with the help of subtitles, but without the exaggerated movements that you would expect. That’s part of it. They ‘act’ in the truest sense of the word.

To further exemplify that ‘Glory Days of Hollywood” feel, there are some terrific Fred ‘n Ginger dance scenes between the Dujardin and Bejo characters that really clinches the charm factor of The Artist.

This is an out-and-out joyous film that celebrates not only the art of filmmaking, but also the enduring power of love in its truest sense. It may all sound really corny and sentimental, but it all works so beautifully that the director could have been describing himself when he named the film.

THE LAST RITES OF JOE MAY OPENS AT CHICAGO'S GENE SISKEL FILM CENTER

THE LAST RITES OF JOE MAY: DENNIS FARINA BRINGS A PRIZEFIGHTER’S TITLE-WINNING PERFORMANCE HOME TO CHICAGO

Story and photos by Dwight Casimere

1. Dennis Farina (Joe May) with Dwight Casimere

2. Jamie Anne Allman is Jenny

3. Gary Cole is Lenny

4. Joe May is played by Dennis Farina

5. A scene from The Last Rites of Joe May/Courtesy Tribeca Films

CHICAGO—Dennis Farina has played everything from an Irish mob boss in You Kill Me to a police detective in NBC’s Law and Order, which wasn’t too much of a stretch, since he actually was simultaneously a Chicago cop during the early days of his acting career.

He must have felt like a prizefighter parading his title-winning belt before more than 1,200 adoring fans as he strode the Red Carpet into the Harris Theatre for Music and Dance at Millennium Park for the Chicago Premiere of his most recent film, The Last Rites of Joy May at the Opening Night of the 47^th Chicago International Film Festival along with his co-stars Jamie Anne Allman, Ian Barford, Gary Cole and Chelcie Rose, writer/director Joe Maggio and the film’s producers.

The Last Rites of Joe May begins showing in Chicago Friday, November 25 through Thursday, December 1 in a limited run at the Gene Siskel Film Center, 164 North State Street, near State & Lake, across from the Chicago Theatre. Visit www.siskelfilmcenter.org for tickets and showtimes.

For Farina, this was a victory lap of sorts for a Chicago-born actor who fought, and won a decision to bring the film project to his home town and create what many are calling a career-defining character performance as the down-and-out hustler seeking redemption, Joe May. “It was originally set in New York,” Farina confided in the heady afterglow of the film’s premiere night. “I brought Joe Maggio, our writer/director here, and persuaded him to shoot it in Chicago.”

The Last Rites of Joe May has writer Nelson Algren written all over it, or scenes from the 1949 Nicholas Ray Film, Knock on Any Door, which starred Humphrey Bogart and was based on the best-selling first novel of the same name by African American author Willard Motley. It is an elegiac, atmospheric look at the underbelly of society, only so much more. This is living Hell!

“We have our wonderful cinematographer Jay Silver (Persona Au Gratin-2011, War Against the Weak (documentary), 2009) to thank for that,” said co-star Gary Cole, who played the part of Lenny, the two-bit mob boss who sets the defeated Joe May on a wild goose chase that accelerates his downward spiral. “You can almost smell the garbage in those back alleys and taste the raw meat of the packing houses. We wanted to show that this is no place to be. In fact, its downright dangerous!”

In addition to the Ivan Albright-like frames of Jay Silver’s evocative cinematography, there’s the seamless editing of Seth Anderson, which provides the legato pacing that adds to the film’s gravitas.

About his character, Joe May, Farina says his upbringing in Chicago and his experience as a Chicago cop had a great deal to do with the background information that informs his character.

“We shot the film around my old neighborhood,” Farina emphasized. “So I was familiar with some of those streets and back alleys. It was mostly shot around West Grand Avenue-on May Street, Racine. All the streets I grew up on. And those characters. The guys who sit in the tavern all day long and in the back rooms of local diners and make deals; those are people I know. They remind of people, not just from my police days; they’re people I ran across my whole life!”

Joe May is a low life hustler who comes out after months of confinement in the hospital due to a serious illness. He undergoes a Shawshank-like experience. Substitute the infirmary for prison. May gets a rude awakening when he finds that, in his absence, everything in his life has dramatically changed. Strangers now occupy his apartment. All of his belongings have been tossed into the trash and his car has been towed away and sold. Not exactly a heroes’ welcome.

All that is precious and dear in Joe May’s life is seemingly destroyed, save for two things, which will later become key elements in the unfolding of the plot. His valued collection of old opera recordings of the great Enrico Caruso and Carlo Bergonzi singing the great operas of Giuseppe Verdi and Giacomo Puccini were squirreled away in a closet by the new tenant of his apartment. “I thought you might want them,” she says off- handedly. Touched, but still wounded, Joe exclaims, “A hell of a lot of good they are without my record player!” The records and a worn family photo he finds inside one of the record jackets are reminders of happier times. At night, their discovery evokes memories, sadness, and tears.

The other element is his rooftop pigeon coop, his haven away from the rigors of the mean streets. A neighbor has stolen his trained pigeons and the coop is a mess but, “just put in some new grass for them to nest and some feed and they’ll come back home!” Slowly, and with great psychic pain, he begins to rebuild the shattered shards of his life.

May starts to get his footing when he’s invited back to his old quarters to share them with the new tenants, a single mother named Jenny, (“Rapp, like the music, she says smarmily”, his retort, “mine’s May, like the month.”), who has a world-weary 10 year old, Angelina, played by Meredith Droeger, a newbie who is the younger sister of actress Abigail Droeger. Jamie Anne Allman (Six Feet Under, The Practice. The Shield), is Jenny.

“I was really glad that the director just let me and the character just sit and live in the moment. There were whole scenes that could have been just edited and cut short, but Joe (Maggio) allowed that character to live in that moment and allowed the audience to really feel her emotion. The movie raised the whole issue of the battered wife and I think the film really allowed the audience to feel what its like to live that. It also talks about inter-generational living, which a lot of people are living with now, especially with this economy. There are lots of people who suddenly find an elderly relative on their doorstep with nowhere to go or a friend who just lost their job who has no place to live. I didn’t really think about that until I’d seen the film a couple of times, but those issues are really there as part of the sub-plot.”

One of the criticisms of the movie is that it moves too slowly. That there’s not enough action. “I think it’s a matter of taste,” Allman said. “”If their taste isn’t toward sitting with someone for a while in a situation, then they’re not going to like it at all. They’re going to want the film to move on and get to the next situation. It’s not going to be to their taste.

“In a lot of movies, there’s explosions and things that might get your attention. It’s all for the eye. But this film is more meat for the soul (pardon the pun!).” She was referring to a scene where Joe is given a 50lb leg of lamb to boost as a backhanded tribute from mob boss Lenny. Frustrated that he’s unable to sell the meat, he finally discards it to a stray alley dog. “I’ve seen the film twice,” Allman said,” and each time I say to myself ‘why didn’t he just take that meat home and put it in the freezer. I’m sure Jenny and her kid would have liked to eat it. That 50 pounds of meat could have lasted them for months!”

The relationship between Joe May and the little girl, Angelina, are cemented as the two fly trained pigeons from Joe’s rooftop coop. “Racing pigeons is just like life,” he counsels in the film. “You’re flyin’ high one minute, and down in the crapper the next.”

Farina explained the odd couple relationship between his character and the girl this way; “We wanted Joe to talk to the little girl, just as if she were another adult, another 65 year old, because he really doesn’t know any other way. But Angelina, like a lot of kids like her today, grows up to be old very early. The kid sleeps with a knife under her bed, after all. It’s really sad.”

The film is rife with symbolism and metaphor. In addition to the life-lesson symbolized by the pigeons, there’s a scene at the very beginning and at the very end where Joe ceremoniously shaves and dresses himself. They occur first, as he’s leaving the hospital, and again as he prepares for his final reckoning.

It’s a conceit that’s often used by directors to telegraph the denouement of the plot. It was used most eloquently in the 1986 Claude Berri film Jean de Florette, in which the character played by Yves Montand prepares to atone for his complicity in the events that led to the titled character of the film’s demise. It was used most recently in the 2008 American film drama Gran Torino, in which the Clint Eastwood character, Korean veteran Walt Kowalski, prepares to exact revenge against the gang bullies who have been pressuring his young Hmong neighbor, to whom he has entrusted his prized 1972 Ford Gran Torino.

There’s another ‘character’ in the Joe May film, which plays a pivotal, if not vital role- a rap of the knuckles on a mahogany tavern bar. “That knock on the bar was the director, Joe’s idea,” Farina explained. “I don’t want to give too much away about the film, but Joe said that was a thing his grandfather used to do. It meant that everything was ‘on the arm.’ Things were straight.”

Farina credits his old comrades at Steppenwolf Theatre with the success of the film. “It all really came together when Steppenwolf Films got involved. They brought a lot to the table with their people and their expertise. They let us borrow some of their actors and once they brought Gary (Cole) on board, it all coalesced.”

The Last Rites of Joe May is a film that demands your full attention. In fact, I recommend seeing it more than once, because there’s a lot that goes on that seems insignificant upon first viewing, that turns out to be vital to the plot’s development. The solitary piano in Lindsay Marcus’s sparse, but highly emotive score evokes the loneliness and isolation felt by Joe May. Even the opera arias selected for the film aren’t just there to impress. Sung mostly by the great Enrico Caruso, the words from Verdi’s Otello and Il Trovatore and Puccini’s La Boheme, tell the story concurrently with Silver’s stark images and Maggio’s poignant script. Case in point, the aria Ah Si Ben Mio, sung by Caruso in the opera Il Trovatore. It’s sung during the final scenes in which May prepares to face his destiny. It’s eerily reminiscent of the setup to the score-settling at the end of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather, only the blood-letting here is on a much smaller scale.

Tribeca Film has acquired The Last Rites of Joe May for distribution in the U.S. and Canada. Produced in association with Chicago’s Steppenwolf Films, it will be released nationwide October 28 on Video On Demand. It opens theatrically in New York November 4 at Quad Cinema and in Chicago November 25^th at the Gene Siskel Film Center near State & Lake, across from the Chicago Theatre. I suggest ordering your tickets now and setting aside some time for discussion over dinner or cocktails afterward. This is a thought-provoking film that takes on a lot of hot-button issues such as battered women, homelessness, multi-generational living and the general disregard we have for our aging population. This is a film that will live in your conscience long after the final credits have rolled.