On Tuesday, I took in a film at the Lincoln Plaza Theatre. Fados is a tribute to the Portuguese musical genre known as fado. There is no story here--and at first this made me a little impatient--but once I realized what was going on, I sat back and enjoyed what I was watching. I was totally unfamiliar with this genre of music--the driving force seems to be a mix of melancholy, dramatic scenarios, and emotional, poetic lyrics. The use of mirrors, lighting effects, semi-transparent screens, and vibrant colors frame each song and highlight each set of talented singers and dancers. By the end of "Fados" I was torn between enjoying the performances and thinking to myself that I wish it would end. I am glad I saw it, however, and if you're a fan of dance or music, you should check it out. For a taste of the movie, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdOE5ERp-s4 After a much needed nap, I headed out to see a new play by Moises Kaufman, 33 Variations. Jane Fonda plays an American musicologist–a Beethoven spe
cialist named Katherine–who decides to go ahead with a research trip to Bonn, Germany, even though she's just been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease. The play doesn't wallow in Katherine's disease, thank goodness. Instead, it focuses on her obsession with unlocking the mystery of why Beethoven spent so many of his last years composing thirty-three variations of what most considered to be a very insignificant waltz by Anton Diabelli. Katherine's obsession and her insistance on staying in Bonn as her condition worsens creates added tension in an already complicated relationship with her daughter. Her daughter has struck up a romance with the nurse who's been caring for her mother (Colin Hanks), and both eventually made their way to Bonn. Scenes featuring Beethoven, his assistant, and Diabelli blend in with Katherine's story as it unfolds. On top of all this, there is also a pianist performing the Variations as they are discussed. A lot to pack into 
one play, but, for the most part, it works pretty well. Fonda (who looks great at 71!) is stronger in the second act as she begins to succumb to ALS. Grenier certainly looks the part, and he gives a great portrayal of Beethoven as a passionate and volitile genius. The set emphasizes the magnitude of Beethoven's work by filling the stage with sketchbooks, archival boxes, and sheet music. At times the script is touching and also very funny, but, in the end, it attempts to tell too many stories, taking away from the power of the central story of Katherine's transformation.
cialist named Katherine–who decides to go ahead with a research trip to Bonn, Germany, even though she's just been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease. The play doesn't wallow in Katherine's disease, thank goodness. Instead, it focuses on her obsession with unlocking the mystery of why Beethoven spent so many of his last years composing thirty-three variations of what most considered to be a very insignificant waltz by Anton Diabelli. Katherine's obsession and her insistance on staying in Bonn as her condition worsens creates added tension in an already complicated relationship with her daughter. Her daughter has struck up a romance with the nurse who's been caring for her mother (Colin Hanks), and both eventually made their way to Bonn. Scenes featuring Beethoven, his assistant, and Diabelli blend in with Katherine's story as it unfolds. On top of all this, there is also a pianist performing the Variations as they are discussed. A lot to pack into 
one play, but, for the most part, it works pretty well. Fonda (who looks great at 71!) is stronger in the second act as she begins to succumb to ALS. Grenier certainly looks the part, and he gives a great portrayal of Beethoven as a passionate and volitile genius. The set emphasizes the magnitude of Beethoven's work by filling the stage with sketchbooks, archival boxes, and sheet music. At times the script is touching and also very funny, but, in the end, it attempts to tell too many stories, taking away from the power of the central story of Katherine's transformation. 
