Review roundup

Coram Boy
At some point in time during this show -- I'm not sure if it was during the unearthing of baby skeletons as a choir pelted out a minor version of "For Unto Us a Child is Born" or later -- I suddenly began to expect Damian himself to materialize or one of the cast members' heads to start spinning. That's how over-the-top this London melodrama import -- Helen Edmundson's adaptation of Jamila Gavin's novel -- is. The story, which centers around a baby-killing monstrous man and one family who survives his antics, is compelling, but the characters are as two-dimensional as these letters I'm typing. The background choir, working in the music of Handel (also a character in the story) goes from a nice touch to overbearing quickly, but you might just forgive them when they give a stirring "Hallelujah Chorus" at the end. Also delicious is Jan Maxwell, who has icy bitch down to an art form. And Xanthe Elbrick was deserving of her Tony nomination, and I look forward to hearing her name butchered on the broadcast. Even when she inevitably and rightfully loses to Mary Louise Wilson EDIT: Make that Jennifer Ehle or Martha Plimpton, at least she'll have the distinction, as far as I know at least, to be the only woman ever nominated for playing two characters who are father and son. At any rate, this show isn't exactly a triumph, but I found it a pleasant enough diversion and certainly deserving of a run longer than a few weeks.

Waitress
I don't usually do film reviews, but this film -- Adrienne Shelly's last opus before her tragic murder -- is endearing and likely enough to be overlooked that I thought I'd give it a brief mention. Keri Russell is winning as a woman trapped with a husband she can't escape and a baby she doesn't want, it's always a plus to see Andy Griffith on film, and if nothing else, I left the theater wanting some damn pie. There's not much out worth seeing movie-wise right now, so pass up third appearances of ogres and radioactive venom victims to give this little gem a chance. Oh, and that mention of Andy Griffith comes with an automatic exception of the film "Spy Hard."

Jennifer Holliday, too!

I mentioned, when the Oscar nominations came out, how I had seen virtually none of the nominated films. Well, although I've still yet to see any of the best picture nominees, I did squeeze in a few movies between then and last night.

Unfortunately, looking back over the list of winners this morning, I realized that I had seen only two movies that actually won an Oscar. One was "An Inconvenient Truth." The other? "Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest." Jerry Seinfeld's fresh-ten-years-ago riff was one of the most recognizable aspects of the evening to me. I haven't felt this out-of-touch since being subjected to the very, er, hetero-centric comedy stylings of Joe Rogan.

In other words, me watching the Oscars last night was about the equivalent if I had watched the Tonys last year after seeing only "Tarzan" and "Bridge and Tunnel." Yet I did anyway. And for the record, I've seen neither "Tarzan" nor "Bridge and Tunnel." Now I have a headache.

RIP: My cultural relevance

Well, it finally happened. The Oscar nominations have come out, and I have seen not one movie nominated for best picture. This has not happened since I acquired my driver's license.

Oh, I had every intention of seeing "The Queen," but I never got around to it. The same with "Little Miss Sunshine." The others I had heard middling things about and were even less a priority.

The most heralded movie I have seen this year, in fact, was "An Inconvenient Truth." I saw "The Good Shepherd" while at my parents' during the holidays and "The Devil Wears Prada" and "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" both as in-flight movies. That's it. In fact, and I stand a good chance of permanently losing my gay card for this, I've not even seen "Dreamgirls" yet.

I don't even have a "movies" tag for this blog yet. I'm having to add one for this post.

I saw movies all the time in Texas and in New Jersey, but now that I live in New York, I just never go. My dates never seem to want to go there, and I feel more conspicuous going to movies alone here than I did in the styx. At any rate, I'd better catch up fast or risk looking like that crotchety old man who longs for the days of the code before I attend the Oscar party to which I've been invited. I have to fly back to Texas briefly next month, so who knows? Maybe "Letters From Iwo Jima" will be my in-flight movie.

I know I'm a few days late in even commenting on the Oscars. Somehow, that seems appropriate this year.