"Fiddler on the Roof"

Theatre review
"Fiddler on the Roof" for Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
July 27, 2007
703 words

"Cortland Rep offers intimate version of 'Fiddler on the Roof'"

full text here

Cortland Rep offers intimate version of ‘Fiddler on the Roof'
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to Cortland Ticket







In 1894, Jewish author Sholom Aleichem wrote a series of stories about a Russian milkman named Tevye. Aleichem's most famous story, “Tevye and his Daughters,” inspired an adaptation called “Fiddler on the Roof” by the team of Joseph Stein (playwright), Sheldon Harnick (lyricist) and Jerry Bock (composer).

It played on Broadway for more than 3,000 performances (the first musical to do so), generated a well-known film version in 1971 and has since enjoyed countless revival shows all over the world.

This summer the show finds a home in Central New York, and from now through Aug. 4, Cortland Repertory Theater will be tricking its audience — “Fiddler on the Roof” seems too grandiose for the modestly sized Edward Jones Playhouse, but the touching story is microcosmic enough that you might even think it's played better in a smaller venue.

Tevye, performed with gusto by Claus Evans, is the narrator, lead character, breadwinner of his family and father to five daughters (guess which of those is the hardest feat). He explains at the beginning what life is like for the inhabitants of a 1905 Russian shtetl; plainly and proudly, he says, “We stay because Anatevka is our home.”

The rest of the cast files in for the opening number, “Tradition,” where we learn the specific roles of Papas, Mamas, Sons, and Daughters as per Jewish custom. We also immediately see how attentively director/choreographer Jim Bumgardner uses set designer Carl Tallent's visually snug (and richly brown) space.

Tevye's jokester demeanor and neighborly familiarity lightens what must have been quite testing hardships for Jewish families under Tsarist regime. But he's a genial man and a caring father; the plot focuses on his three eldest daughters and the men they love — men that put Tevye's sense of tradition in check.

Tzeitel (Lindsay Zaroogian), the oldest, falls for a cartoonish young tailor named Motel (Gregory Trimmer), against the counsel of the nosy, kibitzing matchmaker, Yente (Suzan Perry). Meanwhile, Lazar Wolf the butcher (a wonderful moniker, isn't it?), played by Ted Nappi, asks Tevye for Tzeitel's hand in marriage; Tevye pontificates, decides that security supersedes age disparity, and accepts. The nearby bar patrons offer a toast in the form of “To Life,” a song featuring a catchy chorus and some notable Barynya footwork.

Tevye relents to Tzeitel's plea not to force her to marry Lazar, and he accepts her betrothal to Motel. The haunting but beautiful classic “Sunrise, Sunset” precedes their wedding reception, where everyone is in high spirits — even Lazar. Some authentic bottle dancing wows the crowd — then, perhaps too quickly, Lazar has a change of heart and snaps at Tevye.

A traveled young radical (Perchik, played by Nicholas Palazzo) attempts to alleviate the tension by grabbing his secret love and Tevye's second oldest daughter, Hodel (Catherine Lena Stephani, consistently boasting a powerful singing voice), for a dance. Everyone balks at the broken taboo until they cave and join in. Soon, Russian occupants, led by the Constable (Mark Bader), Fyedka (Liam Cronin), and Sasha (Jefferson McDonald, also dance captain) step in and crash the wedding.

In the second act, Tevye gives his blessing to Hodel to seek out Perchik, who's been arrested in Siberia. However, Tevye's tsuris puts him at the end of his rope when the middle daughter, Chava (Ephie Aardema), elopes with Fyedka, a gentile. He laments via a heartbreaking song, “Chavelah,” and later treads on a thematic line between blind faith and contentment.

Although poignant, CRT's production isn't perfect; some beards look too fake, “Miracle of Miracles” is a bit schmaltzy and on opening night there were a few trips over the wordier portions of dialogue. Also, some actors might have practiced their Yiddish pronunciation more, as it often suggests on-the-spot gibberish.

Despite the script's initially flat exposition (“Tzeitel, you're the oldest.”), its witticisms (“May the authorities itch in places they can't reach!”) and subtleties (Lazar would be much easier to disregard if he weren't such a nice guy) qualify it as first-rate. All the elements — counting Patrick Young's music direction, John Horan's lighting design (watch for the slow change during “Sabbath Prayer”), Jimmy Johansmeyer's costumes, and Michael J. Speach, Jr.'s sound design — pay captivating respect to this timeless tale.

"Hair"

Theatre review
"Hair" at the Hangar Theatre
Ithaca Times
July 25, 2007
790 words

"Tripping out on 'Hair'"

full text here

Tripping Out on 'Hair'
By: Mark Tedeschi
07/25/2007

Hair, book and lyrics by Gerome Ragni and James Rado, music by Galt MacDermot. Directed by Kevin Moriarty, choreographed by Rachel Lampert and Sara Lampert Hoover, set design by Jo Winiarski, costumes by Greg Robbins, lighting by Tyler Micoleau, sound design by Don Tindall. Starring Gregory Maheu, Robert Adelman Hancock, Piper Goodeve, Danny Mefford, Jonathan David, Derrick Cobey, Joanna Krupnick, Jill Knox, Celeste Sayles, and Tiffany Nichole Greene. Accompanied by IY: Dave Billings, Chris Frank, Nate Terepka and John Zinder; conducted by Joel Gelpe, music direction by Kevin Long.



When I took my seat as I arrived at "Hair," a handful of young guys sat near me. One asked, "Are these our seats?" Realizing he didn't know, he said, "With the spirit of this show, you should sit wherever you want. If you even paid to be here, you're breaking the rules." He made an amusing point (and he did find his real seat), but "Hair" is easily worth the price of admission.

Get there a few minutes early to watch the "Happening" - it helps get the audience ready for some theatrical participation -­ ­­that occurs before the show "officially" starts. The merrily arbitrary activities from the Happening on opening night (they're different for each show) included "soundscape dawn" and "move a giant egg."

Then the actors dance, clap, stomp, bang tambourines, hoot and holler until they collectively decide the show should start - but they're in no rush, and the transition from hippie unpredictability to the booming, energetic opening number, "Aquarius," is absolutely seamless.

In "Hair," plot doesn't really take a back seat to spectacle; the atypical nature of the sights and sounds simply overwhelm it. The story follows a group - actually, tribe - of friends in New York City during the Summer of Love (1967 - this summer is its 40th anniversary) who live together and relish in their happy-go-lucky lifestyle.

The characters include Claude (Maheu), the blond-locked leader of the tribe and the only one who submits to his duty when the men are drafted; Berger (Hancock), a wild kid hell-bent on insubordination; Sheila (Goodeve), a pretty girl with a vigorous voice; Woof (Mefford), a bisexual young man who augments the collective exuberance; Hud (Cobey), a soulful Black Panther with a giant afro; Jeanie (Krupnick), a pregnant stoner who declares her love for Claude; and a flock of others.

Be on your toes; the Happening doesn't stop as "Aquarius" begins. Throughout "Hair," the audience is as much a part of the show as the actors. Winiarski has re-imagined the space of the Hangar to surround the actors with spectators, couches on stage included, as well as to give ample room for the actors to carouse around inside the audience. The connection seems so intuitive and unabashed that if someone from the audience jumped up and started dancing with the cast, the actors probably wouldn't bat an eyelash (but don't really do that - unless you're invited).

A viny ladder leading to the overhead catwalk and an almost-climbable cage surrounding IY's drummer (the band is also right on stage) extend the space further into the third dimension. The walls are lined with pots and pans, an American flag, and paintings of zodiac symbols, huge eyeballs and tie-dye swirls. This setup works closely with Lampert's fierce choreography and Moriarty's confident direction to use as much of the space as possible.

And the music! The song-to-dialogue ratio in "Hair" surpasses that of most typical shows; the stream-of-consciousness, non-sequitor flow of songs mirrors the lack of focus that the characters savor. Some memorable numbers of the first act are "Sodomy" and "Colored Spade" (two satiric jump-right-in numbers about sexual proclivities and racial slurs), "I Got Life" (a high-spirited list affirming one's body parts), and, of course, "Hair" (a hearty celebration of tresses, curls and manes). "Where Do I Go" introduces one of the most memorably surreal act breaks of all time, involving a wealth of nudity aptly softened by low red lighting.

Act two opens with a jam tune ("Electric Blues") by Ithaca's IY, a classically trained band that look ecstatic to be there. Where else would they have the opportunity to play such groovy music from the Golden Age of Rock with this level of enthusiasm? They hold their own during the face-tripping-acid and strobe-light-stoner-rock numbers - which is what much of the second act consists of. "Black Boys," "White Boys," "Abie Baby" and the classic "Good Morning, Starshine" are just a few elements in the hallucinatory compendium of stereotypes, pop culture, history, politics and generally joyful nonsense.

Throughout "Hair" I found myself wishing that I'd been alive during that historic summer. I had to rethink my jealousy when I realized there was a malaise setting in: Claude goes to war, the tribe's trip ends, and they face, well, reality. But when the closer, "Let the Sunshine In," reaches the height of its crescendo, the celebratory free-for-all makes the depressing return to Earth feel worth it.

"Hair," which rivals any rock concert I've ever been to, reminded me of just how different today's youth culture is becoming. But that's not to be pessimistic; I'd say we need our version of "Hair" to wake us up a little, but in the current climate, this one does the trick.

"Hair" will appear at the Hangar Theatre in Cass Park through July 28. Tickets may be purchased at the Ticket Center at the Clinton House, by calling 607-273-4497, or online at www.hangartheatre.org.

"St. Patrick's Four" documentary

Arts feature:
profiling "The Trial of the St. Patrick's Four" by Adolfo Doring and Amanda Zackem
The Ithaca Journal
July 25, 2007
503 words

"St. Patrick's Four documentary at Cinemapolis tonight"

full text here

St. Patrick's Four documentary at Cinemapolis tonight
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to the Journal

Most of us in Central New York are fairly familiar with the story: On March 17, 2003, four Ithaca Catholic Worker members now known as “The Saint Patrick's Four” entered a military recruitment center in Lansing.

They poured vials of their blood on the walls and on an American flag, knelt, and read a prepared statement and letters from Iraqis asking Americans to use civil disobedience to protest the invasion of Iraq. They were tried in Ithaca, where the judge declared a mistrial due to a hung jury, and then re-tried in Binghamton on federal charges — including conspiracy to impede an officer of the United States.

There's another story that most of us don't know: Two years later, Ithaca College graduate Amanda Zackem, now 26, met filmmaker Adolfo Doring, now 45, in Manhattan while both were working on a film project about gentrification. Shortly after Doring's passion for documenting the truth on celluloid became a shared one, they dedicated themselves to creating a film reminding people that, in Doring's words, “Democracy is not a free ride.” That film, screening at Cinemapolis at 7:15 tonight, is called “The Trial of the St. Patrick's Four.”

Neither Doring nor Zackem personally knew any of “The Four” (Daniel Burns, Teresa Grady, Clare Grady and Peter DeMott) until a friend told Doring about the second trial; that Zackem went to school in Ithaca was purely a coincidence.

Each of the Saint Patrick's Four faced a possible six years in prison and a $250,000 fine; moreover, the verdict “could have set a legal precedent, a choke hold on protests across the country,” Doring said.

Their film follows the second trial as it develops, starting when Doring and Zackem got involved. Cameras weren't allowed in the courtroom, although they did attend the proceedings every day amidst a packed audience. Then, every evening, they would interview the four defendants, as well as protestors outside the courthouse both for and against an acquittal. The documentary also contains footage of the Iraq war and interviews with political activists Howard Zinn and Noam Chomsky.

“The film shows reality,” Zackem said. “A documentary is about truth ... most people never get to see a trial like this — they only get to hear about it.”

The filmmakers interviewed people with as many opinions as they could. Though the filmmakers may have sympathized with the protestors' situation, their goal was for the film to remain objective.

The four protestors and their families have a history of political activism. Burns' father, John Burns, was mayor of Binghamton for many years. The Grady sisters' father, John Peter Grady, was part of the Camden 28, a group of Vietnam protestors who were acquitted of breaking into a building to destroy draft records.

“They believe in what they do, their reasons, and the constitutionality of all of it,” Doring said. “They're very resolute.”

DeMott, Burns and the Grady sisters were convicted on misdemeanor charges of trespassing and damaging government property. They all served time in prison for the convictions.

"Ten Little Indians"

Theatre Review
"Ten Little Indians" for Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
July 12, 2007
624 words

"'Ten Little Indians' finds strength in anxiety"

full text here

‘Ten Little Indians' finds strength in anxiety
Cortland Repertory Theatre's production a stylish take on Agatha Christie tale
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to Cortland Ticket

Nearly half of Agatha Christie's works have been published under two or more different titles, but none has had an identity crisis quite like her best-selling novel — we in the U.S. know it as “And Then There Were None.” When it was first published, the book was called “Ten Little Niggers”; thankfully, the racial epithet was not an important part of the plot, so it was replaced with a somewhat less aggressive blanket term. Christie believed the dark story needed some cheering up on stage, so the tone of her script for the play differs considerably from that of her novel. Cortland Repertory Theatre's “Ten Little Indians” is a well-cast, light and stylish incarnation of the classic, oft-imitated tale.

In the summer of 1940, 10 seemingly random guests are amassed at a house on an island off the coast of Devon, England, by an unseen host known only as Mr. U.N. Owen. A recorded voice informs them of a trait they have in common: They're all murderers. After the guests start dying per the nursery rhyme “Ten Little Indians,” they realize that someone among them must be responsible for the goings-on.

Tony Capone, a CRT acting vet from “Bye Bye Birdie” in 2002, directs the eclectic, age-appropriate cast. From the outset, we're bombarded with quick-snap character introductions like the buoyant Phillip Lombard (Scott Lee Williams), the take-charge Sir Lawrence Wargrave (Dale J. Young), and the multi-faced William Blore (David Lapkin). The tension doesn't really start percolating until Mr. Owen's butler, Rogers (Tim Mollen) and Mrs. Owen's secretary, Vera Claythorne (Victoria Haynes), admit that they can't confirm whether the Owens even exist.

Standout performances come from Suzan Perry, who channels the bitter-tongue disgruntlement of Judi Dench's angrier roles to play bible-clutching Emily Brent (“Young people nowadays behave in the most disgusting fashion!”), and Robert Finley as General Mackenzie, a cane-wielding golden-ager who lets out a sad monologue about discovering his wife's unfaithfulness.

Often there are six or seven actors on stage at a time, and surprisingly their chemistry is quite good during commotions when several people are moving and speaking at once. There's always a place for them in the lush set, thanks to scenic designer Sarah Martin and always an opportunity for someone to sneak away one of the “Little Indians” that sit on a shelf in the corner and are discreetly subtracted along with their human counterparts.

Jason Read's lighting design deserves applause; the six scenes are set at different parts of the day, and the lighting underscores the mood with clever technique. The electricity seems to flicker just the right amount for eeriness during a thunderstorm, and the beauty of a sunrise radiating from the doors at center stage set the third act with a (false?) sense of contentment.

Christie's script exchanges the novel's gloominess with a lightheartedness that sometimes makes for uncertainty; funny quips (“I think the joys of living on an island are rather overrated”) in the same context as melodrama (“A hypodermic syringe... the modern bee sting!”) feels jarring. The strength of “Indians” still lies in its amplification of anxiety — in the beginning, each character sugarcoats what crime he or she has done only to woefully confesses to wrongdoing later on — but amidst all the joking, the series of twists toward the end border on farcical.

But who am I to pick at Christie's style? Her prolific and hugely successful body of work has made an unmistakable impact in the crime fiction genre. “Indians” would have had an entirely different ambiance if the play ended exactly as the book did (don't worry, that's not giving anything away). Brent reprimands Lombard: “You should be ashamed of yourself for such levity!” Maybe there, Christie was chuckling to herself.

“Ten Little Indians” runs at CRT through July 14. Visit www.cortlandrep.org for more information.

Mark Tedeschi is an Ithaca College graduate.

"How the Other Half Loves"

Theatre Review
"How the Other Half Loves" for Cortland Repertory Theatre
The Ithaca Journal
June 27, 2007
611 Words

"CRT's 'How the Other Half Loves' plays with setting"

full text here

CRT's ‘How the Other Half Loves' plays with setting
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to The Journal



Six characters, three couples, suspicious spouses, mistaken identities.

A familiar formula, right? Add two houses in the same space, two nights at the same time, and for good measure, a flying pot of soup. Prolific playwright Alan Ayck-bourn understands the word “play” on a level all his own.

“How the Other Half Loves,” Cortland Repertory Theatre's latest production, sounds extremely complicated on paper, but Ayckbourn's masterfully subtle writing and the actors' brilliant comic timing, under the precise direction of Bill Kincaid (now in his fifth season at CRT), quickly yank the audience into the story and its complex concept.

“Loves” opens with two married couples in the 1970s pacing around a house decorated with furniture split in half — a different style on each side — courtesy of scenic designer Jo Winiarski. Frank Foster, an absentminded, mustachioed businessman played by Brian Runbeck, jogs around the abode, failing to pick up on his bored wife Fiona's (Stephanie Monsour-Nixdorf) obvious lies about her late-night whereabouts. Meanwhile, the vociferous Teresa Phillips (Jill Donnelly) and her wiseacre husband Bob (Dustin Charles) have a spat over a range of woes from Bob's late-night whereabouts to who should clean their recently prune-covered son.

That the couples don't hear or see each other may confuse initially, but the milieu solidifies after a telephone conversation between Frank and Bob: The two homes are transposed on top of each other.

Once he has the audience settled, Ayckbourn ups the ante. The Fosters and the Phillipses each invite the same couple to dinner on consecutive nights, and both nights occur on stage simultaneously. The Detweilers — ever-panicked William (Dominick Varney) and charmingly naïve Mary (Corrine Grover) — instantly change back and forth from feigned sophistication to terrified confusion. The chaos escalates and erupts, and the third act (back to only one day) consists mostly of Frank's painfully funny attempt at refereeing reconciliation.

Varney and Grover face a unique challenge in their flick-of-a-switch emotional ping-pong, but all six actors do a spectacular job at un-learning the basics of their craft. It's no easy feat for an actor to see or hear something on stage, hold back from reacting, and still recognize the cues. That task coupled with paying attention to audience response make for a pretty difficult endeavor. The actors in “Loves” pace their comedy with extraordinary coordination and cooperation.

Praise for the performances shouldn't detract from the look of the show, either. The kitschy art on the walls, the green-and-tan striped carpet, and the “shared” furniture create a fun space for the characters to play in (even the orange vacuum cleaner looks '70s). And in lieu of scouring vintage clothing shops for worn-out period garb, costume designer Jennifer Paar opted to make virtually all of the costumes herself; her crisp creations are fitting as well as impressive.

“Loves” was a hit at its original staging in London, but after some dialogue Americanization, the Broadway version attained only a mediocre run. Kincaid decided to give the characters back their British accents (they never falter, by the way), making the dialogue sound richer and more organic.

Attempting to give marital advice, Frank declares, “At times like this, I say to myself, ‘Frank, it's better than nothing.'” That's about as deep as anyone digs into the subtext of lifeless marriages, and it's a good thing.

The play doesn't forego its joy for the sake of gratuitous sentimentality, and in the end, the repentances are genuine and the merriment retained.

With the endearing characters, sharp parallels and overlaps, and a couple of excellent meta-references, Ayckbourn and the CRT company sustain all the hilarity of a well-executed farce with the exciting bonus of an imaginative presentation.

Mark Tedeschi graduated from Ithaca College this May with a degree in cinema and photography.

Paul Bernbaum profile

Arts feature:
profiling screenwriter Paul Bernbaum
The Ithacan
February 8, 2007
727 words

"Scripting His Dreams"

full text here

ACCENT | February 8, 2007
Scripting his dreams
Paul Bernbaum ’79 achieves success as a screenwriter in Hollywood
By Mark Tedeschi | Contributing Writer



A scene in the 2006 film “Hollywoodland” shows George Reeves, played by Ben Affleck, in a diner with his colleagues. Suddenly, he’s distracted by children yelling and rapping on the window. Reeves stands and strikes a pose, evoking an eruption of cheers from the excited kids.

Screenwriter Paul Bernbaum ’79, a longtime Superman fan, essentially saw himself as one of the kids and wrote himself into the scene.

His wife, Gina Bernbaum, said that when he was a child, he couldn’t wait to run home and watch “The Adventures of Superman.” She also said that his fascination carried through into adulthood.

“He once owned a costume from the original series,” she said. “He bought it at an auction. He has always wanted to tell George Reeves’ story, and it’s fitting that it would be his first feature film.”

“Hollywoodland,” which stars Affleck and Adrien Brody, explores the circumstances surrounding the apparent suicide of Reeves, the original actor to play Superman on television in the 1950s. Bernbaum has always had a knack for writing, though it was not his original career focus.

“I actually went to Ithaca [College] to be a sportscaster,” Bernbaum said. “I was on radio my first couple of years and did a sports show until I realized that I didn’t want to be a sportscaster. I only wanted to do play-by-play for the Knicks.”

He switched gears, declaring a writing minor, and became more involved in television production.

“All my spare time was spent down in the communications building,” he said. “I used to have a game show on TV hosted by my friend David Lee Miller, who has been a Fox News reporter for years.”

But Miller isn’t the only television figure Bernbaum met at the college. At freshman orientation, in addition to his future wife (then Gina Horne ’79), he met Barbara Gaines, who is the executive producer of “The Late Show with David Letterman.”

By senior year, Bernbaum and Gaines dreamed of starting a production company called “Bergan,” an abbreviation of their last names.

“Turns out, we got half of our dream,” Gaines said. “He became a writer [and] I became a producer — just not together.”

As a team, they produced and hosted an awards show their junior and senior years, and that final year, the three orientation friends lived together in the Garden Apartments.

The Bernbaums married in 1981, two years after graduation. That same year, he earned his first paycheck in television, selling a story to the show “CHiPs.”

“I got my first agent in 1983 and my first TV staff job in 1984,” Bernbaum said. “It basically took me five years to ‘make it.’ In the meantime, I made rent money working at temp agencies, doing very strange, very frightening jobs.”

Bernbaum and his family (his wife, three sons and two daughters) lived in Los Angeles for years, but have since moved to Paradise Valley, Ariz. He improvises when business calls for traveling. If he’s needed at meetings in L.A., he books as many as he can in one trip. And if he has to take extended trips to film sets or for research, he brings the entire family along with him.

“The best part about being a writer is that I get to work at home and spend so much time with [my family],” he said. “I’m probably the only writer in Hollywood that has no desire to direct.”

Even during his years of writing and producing for television, Bernbaum always knew that he wanted to write feature films. It took a few years for “Hollywoodland” to come to fruition, but he’s “very proud of how the movie turned out.”

The critical success of the film opened many doors for Bernbaum. He said he is so busy that he often has to turn down offers, a position he does not take for granted.

Some of the films that he is currently involved with include “Counter-Clockwise,” with Jennifer Aniston; “The Day I Turned Uncool,” with Adam Sandler; and “The Warden,” an HBO film from the producers of “Little Miss Sunshine.”

Still, “Hollywoodland” will always be remembered as Bernbaum’s first feature film. He said it was one of the best-reviewed films of the year, a welcome reward after the arduous four-year process the project went through to see completion.

“It’s a mini-miracle when anything gets made,” he said.

"Man of the Year"

Film Review
"Man of the Year"
The Ithacan
October 26, 2006
570 words

"Satire's message falls short of poignant"

full text here

Movie Review
Satire’s message falls short of poignant
By Mark Tedeschi / Contributing Writer
October 26, 2006
“Man of the Year,” director Barry Levinson’s latest cinematic foray into political commentary, arrives at an appropriate time. Unfortunately, the film’s erratic jumps across genres hinder the film from becoming the important protest piece it aspires to be.

Robin Williams stars as Tom Dobbs, a comedy talk show host who, encouraged by Internet fans, decides to run for president. He refuses to pay a single dime on television advertisements, instead relying on the support of Internet word-of-mouth and his attachment to a platform separate from parties and lobbyists.

Tom also shies away from comedy in his initial speeches, against the will of his manager, Jack Menken (Christopher Walken) and television show co-writer, Eddie Langston (comedian Lewis Black). At the presidential debates, Tom’s nervousness brings out his inner jokester, and the crowd ends up loving him.

The debate gets a little ridiculous. Tom’s opponents are meant to be boring, but they come off as completely unrealistic. And the television station’s response to Tom’s antics is less than professional. Nonetheless, Tom’s fans receive his approach with enthusiasm, but according to Eleanor Green, Laura Linney’s character, not enough to garner an actual win. Eleanor works for Delacroy, a corporation in charge of America’s new voting system that officially declares Tom the new president. Eleanor initiates a few battles of validity and integrity with him.

Williams brings his recognizable style of humor to the film, but because Levinson caters his movie to that particular humor, Tom seems more like Williams than his own character. It is obvious when Williams attempts to make a funny and the punch line isn’t good enough to justify the buildup. As Tom points out in the film, “If you tell a joke that stinks and put a laugh track over it, the joke still stinks.”

Linney’s performance pulses with intensity, particularly in one scene when Eleanor experiences a sort of drug-induced breakdown in a coffee shop. The emotional tenor of her disorderly confusion showcases Levinson’s skillful direction, which is more effective than his writing. The 1997 film “Wag the Dog” was Levinson’s last exploration of American politics and was penned by David Mamet. Perhaps Levinson should have enlisted someone to fine-tune the story’s balance between throwaway one-liners and effective satire.

The political-thriller aspect of the script is welcome but unexpected. Once audiences realize the predictable ending was inevitable from the start, they can ponder the film’s thematic raison d’être: Those who control thought in this country — politicians, corporations and the media — have a responsibility to sustain honesty and credibility.

The need to kick the man in the pants is lately becoming more prevalent in movies and television (“Good Night and Good Luck” and “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip,” among others). And if the fake growing Internet campaign for the nonexistent Jon Stewart/ Stephen Colbert ticket for presidency in 2008 is any indication of America’s dissatisfaction with politics, then “Man of the Year” isn’t quite so far from reality.

In the film, viewers are reminded that “the difference between fiction and nonfiction is that fiction has to be credible.” The film’s helter-skelter identity crisis sadly causes the loss of that which it touts as crucial. Many of the scenes are engaging, and the concept is close-to-home enough to keep audiences in their seats. With less misguided goofiness, “Man of the Year” could have been more than just a well-intentioned step in the right direction of political satire.

“Man of the Year” was written and directed by Barry Levinson.
“Man of the Year” received two stars.