The Baha'i Faith Index

Rainn Wilson talks about the Baha'i Faith with Oprah Winfrey

You can view Rainn Wilson's March 10 2009 interview with Oprah here:

http://www.oprah.com/article/spirit/inspiration/ pkgoprahssoulserieswebcast/20090309_oradio_oss_rwilson

Where is the Outrage Over Russ Garcia's Denied Oscar?

Where is the outrage?

Several weeks ago, Marc Myers published an amazing and unsettling story in his JazzWax blog. The esteemed composer and arranger Russ Garcia had been denied an Oscar due to a case of mistaken identity. Myers did some superior sleuthing, and put together the facts in a first class exposé.

Garcia is now 92-years-old. It would be great to rectify this wrong while he is still alive. Yet the silence is deadening.

I thought this story would be covered by the mainstream media, and discussed by other jazz writers. I kept waiting for this newsworthy tale to be picked up by The New York Times or The New Yorker or the Associated Press—or somebody. Yet I am still waiting . . . and waiting . . . and waiting. Is jazz coverage in the media so dead that a story of this proportions can come to light and then be left untouched?

Apparently it is.

The facts, as Myers brought them out, showed that Garcia had written orchestrations of Charlie Chaplin’s music for the Oscar-winning score of Limelight. Garcia also composed incidental music for the movie, and participated in the recording of the score. Yet the Oscar was given—probably due to confusion over names—to Larry Russell, who apparently had no involvement with the score.

How could this happen? The problem arose because twenty years had elapsed between the production of the Limelight (which was first premiered in London in 1953) and its US released (in 1972). Chaplin’s supposed “subversive tendencies” and investigation by the Justice Department had created an environment in which this film was kept out of U.S. theaters for two decades. When this movie finally was eligible for an Oscar, many of the people who had been involved in its production were dead, including co-arranger Ray Rasch. It seems that the Academy officials asked Rasch's widow to identify the other people involved in the project, and she must have responded “someone named Russell”—setting in motion the eventual awarding of a posthumous Oscar to Larry Russell.

If these facts are true—and I am convinced by the case Myers has made—then Garcia deserves an Oscar. The Academy seems content to ignore this matter—largely (I believe) because not a single newspaper has covered this story. Russ Garcia, for his part, is a very unassuming individual and won't pursue the matter himself. His comment to Myers is revealing: “I’m a Baha'i. It’s part of my faith never to be the source of grief to anyone. I didn't want Larry's widow or family or anyone to feel bad. I still don't. I've won plenty of awards.”

But no one is suggesting that Larry Russell’s award be taken away. Yet the Academy owes one to Russ Garcia. And should act while he is still around to receive the honor.

On a separate note, I would like to dwell on the poor showing by the print media on this matter. I hear constantly how bloggers are “not real journalists” and “don’t break real stories.” Yet the Garcia saga is just one more example of the opposite phenomenon. I check out the jazz coverage in a wide range of media outlets on a daily basis. I can assure you that the top ten jazz bloggers on the web are providing better coverage of the art form than all of the U.S. newspapers combined. Then again, that’s not hard to achieve after decades of declining jazz coverage in the press.

We may not be able to reverse that trend. But if we stir things up a bit, we might be able to get Russ Garcia his Oscar. One place to start is by putting some pressure on Sid Ganis, the President of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. The Academy accepts questions and inquiries from the public at http://www.oscars.org/contact/general.html.

Bill Murray recommends visiting the temple in Wilmette

October 9, 2008

For a retired guy, Bill Murray has been busy.

Not only did he jump out of a plane during Chicago's Air & Water Show in August, he's appearing in a new movie, " City of Ember" (opening Friday).

Murray, 58, halfheartedly told interviewers he was retired in 2005, after he starred in director Jim Jarmusch's "Broken Flowers." But, it seems, retirement didn't take.

Here are some highlights of a conversation with the Wilmette native in which he talks about his new film, politics, sky diving, and the fate of his skull.

Q You play a corrupt politician in your latest film. Any models for your character?

A Just all of them. I'd hate to be selfish and pick just one. The only person I didn't choose is Richie [Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley]. I get a kick out of the way he works. I think he really loves the city. But there's no one that comes to mind. They've all disappointed. They're like crack girls; no matter how attractive they are, they're going to break your heart.

Q But is there any "crack girl" you have your eye on this year?

A No. ... It's kind of interesting to watch the Illinois fellow [ Barack Obama]. Joe Biden, I'm not going to get crazy about. And [Republican vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin], I'm not going to get so nuts about.

I don't know where that voice comes from. It sounds like northern Wisconsin or Minnesota or something; not what I imagine Alaskans sound like. It's a disturbing pitch.

I've met McCain, and he was a pretty decent guy. He could have straight-shot his way and kept it going. But I think he lost it. I think he'll pay the price for it.

Q When you introduce friends to Chicago, what do you tell them they have to see?

A I always tell them they have to get a cheeseburger over at the Billy Goat. I tell them, if they are downtown by Navy Pier, there's going to be fireworks. I tell them to see the Bean ["Cloud Gate"]; I love the spitting fountain.

I tell them to go to the Original House of Pancakes in Wilmette. See the Baha'i Temple as well. Obviously Wrigley Field is on the trip, they have to see that.

If there's a way they can just drive around in the Loop at sunset around the river and just see the light ricocheting off all those buildings, it's spectacular.

I went to the Trump Hotel the other day. That coffee shop that's on the 16th floor is ridiculous. It's just unbelievable. You can sit at one table and still see [the city skyline] in the mirror.

Q How was the sky-dive different than you thought it was going to be?

A How about: I was terrified. One thing was: It's cold up there. It was about 20 [degrees]. We circled around for a long time because they were being very cautious. They didn't want to lose me. That would have been noticed.

I walked from the back of the plane to the front, and I said, "You know, I thought I'd feel better." I didn't feel so good. And the guy said, "Well, you just walked 80 feet uphill at 13,500 feet. There's no oxygen in here."

And then they started passing around this oxygen can, and it was a fight to the finish for who was going to hold onto that oxygen can. It's like, "Don't bogart that joint."

I couldn't believe it. I thought, "You guys are supposed to be the pros. Can I have this thing? Give me it."

All of the sudden you go, "What was I thinking? This is the stupidest thing I've ever done." All of the sudden, I really, really didn't want to go.

But there's a guy who is hooked onto you, like a turtle [shell]. You've got to walk in a squat. Then this other giant guy grabs you by the front ... They are taking you out the door. They don't want any confusion about who's on first and where we're going.

And you're like, "Oh God, oh God ..."

Once you go, and you hit the air, all that's gone. The physical sensation overwhelms your body. Overwhelms your mind. You can't think anymore.

Q How would you describe it?

A You're just in a washing machine of air. You're trying to move your arms and move your hands. Meanwhile, you've got this guy on your back. And then he starts steering you.

And they're filming you, so you feel like, "Oh, I'm supposed to be funny now."

When the chute opens, it's not that ka-kunk thing you see in the movies. It's just that the people you're talking to or looking at just sort of drop through the bottom of the floor. Then it became extremely peaceful and really dreamy. I was like, "Hey, there's Wrigley Field, can we go over there?"

Q Harold Ramis told the Tribune recently that Columbia Pictures is developing "Ghostbusters 3." Would you be interested in doing another sequel?

A It's all talk until the script shows up. When Danny [Aykroyd] used to say, "Come on, we'll do one more," I said, "Well, I'll do it disembodied. Kill me off, and I'll be a ghost." I thought that was a decent idea.

Q You recently voiced your character, Peter Venkman, for a "Ghostbusters" video game. What was that like?

A That was fun. I'm not really a game guy, but I enjoyed recording it. It was funny. I liked being the guy again. I was walking down the street singing the "Ghostbusters" song. I'm sure people were thinking, "Hey pal, get over it. Really. Kinda full of yourself, or what?" But I hadn't thought about it in so long that it was fun to be that guy.

Q Your friend Del Close attempted to donate his skull to the Goodman Theatre but ultimately couldn't do it. Did that make you think of any postmortem pranks that you might pull?

A That story about the skull thing is such a great story. I hate to hear it debunked, whether it's true or not. I'm sorry if [Close's skull donation] didn't happen. I figured that it didn't happen for some legal reason.

Q Sorry to say this, but you're talking to the guy who debunked it.

A Well, it's very disappointing. Because that intention is so unique and so wonderful.

Q But I actually found out how it could be done.

A I'd love to know. So how do you do it?

Q You ship your body to a place called Skulls Unlimited in Oklahoma City, and they'll take care of it. It's not illegal.

A Plus, you've got to have enough money to FedEx a casket around.

If I felt myself getting ill, I'd like to have that paperwork sorted out before I went to the end. I love the idea of his skull, or my skull, being somewhere. It's not going to do anybody any good anywhere else.

"A fellow of infinite jest"—that would be a great thing to be known as.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/chi-bill-murray-qa-1009oct09,0,222151.story?page=2

One more juicy role

In 'Rachel Getting Married,' Bethlehem's Anisa George has cozied up to Hollywood's best - actress Anne Hathaway and director Jonathan Demme.

By Geoff Gehman | Of The Morning Call
October 4, 2008

Note: Visit the original article to watch the accompanying video

Anisa George likes the corner of creativity and community. The Bethlehem native hung out there in ''Foreigner,'' her solo play about being Baha'i in America and Iran.

In ''Don Quixote of Bethlehem,'' her documentary about Touchstone Theatre's bilingual theatricade of Cervantes' novel. In playground comedies she performed for Touchstone, the experimental ensemble founded by her parents, Bill and Bridget.

George's first feature film is a family affair, too. In '' Rachel Getting Married,'' opening Friday in Philadelphia, the 26-year-old Moravian Academy graduate has a juicy role as Emma, a maid of honor who fiercely protects the bride (Rosemarie DeWitt) from the bride's prodigal sister Kym ( Anne Hathaway), a recovering addict and wicked wit who lives up to her nickname ''Shiva the destroyer.'' Directed by Oscar winner Jonathan Demme (''Silence of the Lambs'') and written by Jenny Lumet, daughter of legendary filmmaker Sidney Lumet, the movie feels like a domestic expose, thanks largely to veteran ensemble actors ( Debra Winger), veteran members of Demme's company (Anna Deavere Smith) and a handful of his relatives (Bobby Demme, his priest uncle).

''A feast of talent and company'' is George's description for ''Rachel,'' which has received rave reviews and Oscar buzz for Hathaway's performance. Neda Armian, the film's producer, praises George with the same phrase. ''Anisa not only brought a character to life, she brought a really wonderful life to the set,'' says Armian, a veteran Demme partner. ''She's a tremendous performer and an extraordinary person, first and foremost.''

Armian and Demme met George through a relation. Her aunt, Joyce George, is a Brooklyn photographer who befriended Demme's wife, set designer Joanne Howard, in the early 1980s when they were waitresses and artists in New York's East Village. An occasional still photographer for Demme, Joyce George plays a wedding photographer in ''Rachel.''

In the spring of 2007 the Georges were dining with Demme and Howard when Demme asked Anisa George for a DVD of ''Foreigner,'' her painful, painfully funny pilgrimage through religion and sexuality, prejudice and family. Impressed by the coming-of-age, coming-out story, Demme initially considered booking it for an Iranian festival he planned to produce. Then he gave George a simpler role: a screen test for a minor character in ''Rachel'' -- perhaps a wedding guest, perhaps a member of a 12-step program.

In August 2007, in Demme's Manhattan apartment, George received a juicier assignment: reading the part of Emma, the maid of honor, with two candidates for the role of Rachel. Armian recalls she quickly transformed a non-audition into an audition. ''Anisa just came in and literally owned the part,'' says the producer. ''She just cast herself.''

Five weeks later George joined the ''Rachel'' company in Stamford, Conn. Like other Demme casts, it was an all-star, all-field banquet. Beau Sia, who plays a wedding organizer, is a slam poet. Bill Irwin, who plays Rachel's father, is a renowned new-age theater clown. Jazz saxophonist Donald Harrison Jr., one of many professional players at the wedding reception, appears in two unreleased Demme documentaries on musicians in post-Katrina New Orleans.

On paper George fit right in. Named after the Arabic word for ''friendly,'' she received a degree in Middle Eastern cultures from Barnard College, studied sacred theater in Iran and taught photography to child laborers in Yemen. Armian, who is Iranian-American, says George speaks Farsi better than she does.

Still, George faced a sharp learning curve on the ''Rachel'' set. ''I'm used to theater productions where you're expected to do a little bit of everything, because if you don't, it won't get done,'' she says. ''Here, I was just a small cog in the machine. The amount of energy thrown together in that one place at that one time was so amazing. In a way, that helped teach me how to throw all of my energy into just being an actor -- to thinking much more deeply about that role.''

Armian insists it took George a mere week to reach the comfort zone. She hit her mark during a dress-fitting scene in an Indian boutique that features a nasty battle between Emma and Kym over who deserves maid of honorhood. According to Armian, George leveled the playing field with two far more experienced performers: Hathaway, a star of such films as ''The Princess Diaries'' and ''The Devil Wears Prada,'' and DeWitt, who has an occasional role in the Emmy-winning TV series '' Mad Men.'' George not only went nose to nose, she zinged an ad lib at Hathaway's character: ''I can see rehab has done wonders for you.''

''That line was completely Anisa,'' says Armian. ''She had a lot of backbone; she knew she had a lot to give. Other actors had to be on their toes because they were acting with her. She was that sharp.''

Other factors eased George's transition to acting in a feature film. She was inspired by Anna Deavere Smith, who plays dozens of characters in her solo plays about race, violence and other American dilemmas. She was comforted by a familial company that included Demme's son Brooklyn, one of the wedding musicians, and Demme's film mentor, producer Roger Corman, one of the camera-wielding wedding guests. Endless improvisation suited an alumna of Touchstone's guerrilla street-theater tours, who at age 9 danced, mugged and generally stole ''Rootabaga Stories,'' the tale of a family that ditches boring reality for a fantasy country where umbrellas hold political rallies. Her co-stars were her parents, Bill, now a Touchstone ensemble member, and Bridget, now executive director of the Bach Choir of Bethlehem.

George welcomed these moments of spontaneity as sparks of live theater. ''We were just bouncing off each other and really having fun,'' she says. ''Jonathan will give you a little nudge here and there, but basically he gives you free reign. He likes to keep the film rolling and just go and go and go, until he's gotten everyone into the flow and everything is working. It's kind of like keeping the flame burning until it reaches boiling point. I certainly took the opportunity to say whatever came out of my mouth. Sometimes they seemed to let me get away with anything. And sometimes they said: 'Anisa, please leave the set, now.'''

Actually, George was more disoriented by the post-filmmaking process. During a rough cut of ''Rachel,'' she squirmed watching herself on screen for the first time. ''It's so hard to see it as a story,'' she says. ''Because the whole time you're thinking: Oh, it was really cold that day. Or: That was the day I was in a bad mood. I think everyone struggles with that. You just never perceive yourself the way you actually appear.''

George is also slightly unnerved by the permanence of her performance. ''With film, you're put on the shelf and immortalized,'' she says. ''Whereas with the theater, if you don't like something, you can push it off the cliff and never see it again.''

''Rachel'' has intensified the pingpong game in George's head between making films and making plays. This month she'll begin a master's program at the London International School of Performing Arts on a scholarship from the Jack Kent Cooke Foundation, created by the late media billionaire. The school emphasizes creative movement and collaboration taught by the late Jacques Lecoq, a Touchstone guru.

In the meantime George is in Newcastle, England, working for Amber, an ambitious independent film company co-founded nearly 40 years ago by her mother's sister. She plans to return to the Valley to continue directing a documentary on the conversion of Bethlehem Steel's former plant into a casino complex near Touchstone's neighborhood.

George is in no hurry to hire her first agent or scurry for parts in feature films. ''Part of my theatrical pedigree is to believe in creating your own original work,'' she says. ''That's still where my heart is at. I recognize the advantages of being part of the commercial acting world, and it was really an honor and a privilege to be a part of this movie. But I think there's a lot of danger in trying to climb the ladder to commercial success. It's a good way to pay the bills, but not necessarily a way to feel creatively fulfilled.''

Armian believes George will master pretty much anything that matters. ''Trust me,'' says the producer, ''we will all be working for Anisa George soon.''

http://www.mcall.com/entertainment/all-anisageorge.6527089oct04,0,2651527.story