Screen Picks

Queen of the Gypsies: A Portrait of Carmen Amaya

by Sam Adams

Motion Pictures (Sat.-Sun., June 5-6, Fri.-Sun., June 11-13, Prince Music Theater, 1412 Chestnut St., 215-569-9700) Co-curated by Film at the Prince and the Philadelphia Dance Projects, this interdisciplinary mini-festival explores the tricky art of capturing dance on film and synchs up neatly with this week's dance critics convention (see. p. 23). As reactions to The Company showed (film critics loved it; dancers hated it), serving two masters is not an easy task; since both film and dance are based in movement, the simplest solution is to curb the one and let the other take over — i.e., plant the camera in one place and let the dancers do their stuff. Alternatively, there's the Chicago approach, where each movement is choreographed for the camera, but the overall sense of the dance often slips between the cuts. Only when dance and film are perfectly in step with each other is either medium done justice.

The behind-the-scenes documentaries that kick off "Motion Pictures" have it relatively easy, in that neither tasks itself with the burden of capturing a dance in its entirety. Jocelyn Ajami's Queen of the Gypsies: A Portrait of Carmen Amaya (Sat., June 5, 4 p.m., Sun., June 13, 7 p.m., $8.50) profiles the flamenco legend, the first woman to adopt the rapid, percussive footwork that was traditionally the province of male dancers. Adopting an aggressive posture that one observer likens to that of a matador, Amaya struggled against machismo in her offstage life; as she lay ill near the end of her life, her 15-years-younger husband took money sent for her care and bought himself a new car. Ajami deftly knits together Amaya's rebellious style and her often-turbulent life, with copious vintage clips of Amaya strutting her stuff.

Lilos Mangelsdorf's Damen und Herren ab 65 (Sat., June 5, 7 p.m., Sat., June 12, 4 p.m., $8.50) documents a project of famed choreographer Pina Bausch: a piece danced entirely by nonprofessionals in their 50s and 60s. The emphasis falls not on Bausch but on her company members, who find that their participation enlivens more than their muscles. "The daily routine livens up," says one, "and you leave the well-beaten paths a bit." Speaking of bodies in motion, Chumley and Carlota will offer their own brand of dance criticism when Flashdance hits the screen (Sat., June 5, 10 p.m., $10).

Sunday features two free events: a panel moderated by Elizabeth Zimmer, co-editor of Envisioning Dance on Film and Video (2:30 p.m.), and a screening of Enter Achilles, a collaboration between choreographer Lloyd Newson, theater company DV8 and director Clara Van Gool.

Bringing Up Baby (Tue., June 8, 1 p.m., $1, The Bridge, 40th and Walnut sts., 215-386-3300) No doubt Cary Grant, who gracefully bowed out of his career rather than age visibly on screen, would thank you for not remembering that this month marks his centennial. References to Grant's notorious privacy become a refrain in Cary Grant: A Class Apart (which repeats on Turner Classic Movies June 22), though the documentary does a decent job of piercing the veil, and doesn't shy away from the still-persistent rumors about his sexuality. (For what it's worth, ex-wife Betsy Drake says he was a terror in the sack.) Grant's independence is another running theme, which explains why Warner Home Video's 5-DVD Signature Collection is nothing of the sort. Hardly the team player the studio system craved, Grant made his best films all over Hollywood, which means any box set limited to his output for a given studio is bound to be second rate at best. Even second rate is pushing it, for a collection whose high point might be the middling Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House. At least the extras outshine the main attractions: two Tex Avery cartoons (two more than the recent Looney Tunes box) and another delightful Robert Benchley short to add to the pair on Warner's Marx Brothers box.

TCM is running Grant's movies all month long, but a look at one of his best will cost you no more than a buck and subway fare. Bringing Up Baby has its detractors, but you can't beat Grant in a fuzzy dressing gown, yelling, "Because I just went gay all of a sudden!" Really, you can't.

The Grapes of Wrath ($14.98 DVD) Inspired by childhood memories of the great potato famine, John Ford's magnificent adaptation of John Steinbeck's book is somehow both sentimental and austere; it reminds you that Ireland is the land of Samuel Beckett as well as Sean O'Casey. Ford and cinematographer Gregg Toland manage the unbelievable task of making Henry Fonda unrecognizable at first: His haggard, sallow face holds no trace of movie-star familiarity. The masterful Toland outdoes himself, surpassing even Steinbeck's rough-hewn poetry. The harsh light and menacing shadows split the world into temporary winners and all-time losers, with community the only way to weather the storm. The moment when Jane Darwell's Ma Joad stops feeding her belongings into the fire long enough to press a pair of cheap but prized earrings to her face is as fine an expression of loss as the movies have ever seen. Fox's DVD features literally dueling commentary from Steinbeck and Ford experts, who let a disagreement over Ford's politics drag on needlessly.

Misc. Picks Secret Cinema's outdoor screenings at 40th and Walnut sts. get rolling Thursday at 9 with Duck Soup. The Prince checks into Grand Hotel (Fri., 8 p.m.). In honor of Father's Day, the Colonial kicks off a month of le cinema du papa with the original Father of the Bride (Sun., 2 p.m.). Screenpicks tells you, once again, not to miss Robert Altman's masterpiece The Long Goodbye, starting Wednesday at the County and Ambler.