Myrtle Gordon is like the cinematic daughter of Margo Channing, the capricious diva who couldn't handle the 'dura lex' of numbers in "All About Eve", and the mother of Nina Sayer who tried to reach a level of self-destructive perfection to better capture the essence of her titular character, "Black Swan".
It's a pity that "Opening Night" is not as revered as these two masterpieces as it's a powerful and brutal depiction of the alienating effect of passion devouring self-awareness. It embarks us for a thrilling ride with Myrtle Gordon, played in an Oscar worthy performance by an extraordinary Gena Rowlands, who endures a terrible middle-age crisis, with alcohol as the only escapism from an asphyxiating stardom.
"Opening Night" opens a pivotal moment in Myrtle's life, basically trying to find herself, torn between the reality of a mysterious middle life age and a desperate attempt to seize the roses of a lost youth. This youth is incarnated by the hallucination of Nancy, a young overly emotional fan who was accidentally killed by a car, on a dark rainy night, right after having embraced Myrtle, visibly touched by her cries and sincere adoration. This brief and macabre encounter resonates like a symbolic farewell to youth an intolerable situation aggravated by Myrtle's next role of an 'old' woman named Virginia.
Basically, Myrtle is torn between two extreme perceptions of her condition, Nancy, eternally young, and Virginia's, whose "Second Woman" titular nickname denotes the idea of a second virginity, as to imply, that age, is synonym of asexuality, absence of desire, menopause with pause as a static, obedient position Myrtle, absorbed by her teenage angst-like crisis, can't tolerate. But this is Myrtle's conception of age; Cassavettes offers another one, more positive.
Cassavettes describes every wrinkle in an old person's face as a heritage from the past, painful, happy, emotional, a precious memory cherished like a treasure. Aging is also incarnated by the character of Joan Blondell, Sarah Goode, the 65-year old woman who wrote the play, she and Rowlands, beautifully underline the self-reflexive nature of the film. The wise Sarah tries to explain that age is less a doom than an enrichment, but she forgets two essential elements on Myrtle's personality, which explain her defensive attitude and obstinacy in not telling her age.
First, Myrtle is an actress so dedicated to her profession that her aura transcends the limits of stage, Manny Victor, the director, played by the magnetic and suave Ben Gazzara is like hypnotized by Myrtle, and shows an extreme patience despite her incessant caprices. Secondly, Myrtle can't embody Virginia, as she rejects the sinister reality that aging can crystallize, still convinced about Nancy's inner youth inhabiting her heart. The conflict is here, Myrtle is so dedicated to one character that if she ever tried to Virginia, she will become Virginia, and then she must overpower this "Second Woman" even if it implies a total detachment from Sarah, an obvious motherly figure. This rebellion leads to some very eloquent moments in their awkwardness.
I realized while watching "The Opening Night" how my shy nature makes me fear improvisation, because I hate embarrassing situation, but in Cassavetes' view, improvisation is totally conscious. Myrtle doesn't know what to say, but she know what she's doing, hence the suspenseful embarrassing moments where she doesn't get up after a 'slap' or when she leaves an actor who tries to handle the critical situation by mechanical laughs, while a close-up shows Cassavettes' close-up show his tongue nervously rolling in his mouth, expecting boos like the explosion of a psychological ticking bomb. No other film-maker than John Cassavettes had this ability to make my heart pound with such realistic situations.
The film is full of such moments, where the eye of the camera shows what the stage spectator can't. The theater becomes an allegory of our own lives, while the eye of the cinema vérité allows us to see what really goes backstage. The truth, the authenticity this eternal quest of Cassavettes found an even more powerful meaning with the theater, which is the Art where no mistake is allowed. But in a masterstroke, Cassavettes reconciles the two notions by showing that even in a restricting context, you can improvise and touch the hearts.
Virginia's unpredictability makes everybody nervous, but there's something that rings profoundly true, because she –like in real life- doesn't do what she's told to do, she just expresses feelings. The whole role is about overcoming an intolerable reality, and Myrtle's improvisation is like a psychological rodeo where at any moments, she can fall. But as Cassavettes, an artist, above anything must "dare to fail".
And failure was a close call: in a booze-driven self-destructive impulse, Myrtle drinks, tries to flirt with Nancy in one side, and dominate Virginia in another, in the play, no one knew how to handle her during the Opening Night in Broadway. Sarah was resigned while Manny, finally punished her by letting her crawl in the floor while she was dead drunk, and maybe this sudden outburst of violence ignited the flame burning in Myrtle's heart Myrtle who, in a climactic fight, got rid of Nancy because she understood that was the salvation, the only way to understand and dominate Virginia.
Myrtle domesticated all her fears and gained enough courage to finally be 'herself' on-stage, by commanding the spirit of the Second Woman. Her improvisation inspired Cassavettes' improvisation, and the result was transcending to a point we could wonder if the public didn't applaud for John and Gena, a touching inside joke confirmed by the presence of old friends like Peter Falk, and Seymour Cassel at the premiere. Myrtle proved Cassavettes' theory that life is all about 'improvising and daring to fail'.
Did she stop drinking? Is her existential crisis over? Cassavettes doesn't embarrass himself with such certitudes, "Opening Night" is simply an existential coming-of-age story and a poignant hymn for self-conquest
It's a pity that "Opening Night" is not as revered as these two masterpieces as it's a powerful and brutal depiction of the alienating effect of passion devouring self-awareness. It embarks us for a thrilling ride with Myrtle Gordon, played in an Oscar worthy performance by an extraordinary Gena Rowlands, who endures a terrible middle-age crisis, with alcohol as the only escapism from an asphyxiating stardom.
"Opening Night" opens a pivotal moment in Myrtle's life, basically trying to find herself, torn between the reality of a mysterious middle life age and a desperate attempt to seize the roses of a lost youth. This youth is incarnated by the hallucination of Nancy, a young overly emotional fan who was accidentally killed by a car, on a dark rainy night, right after having embraced Myrtle, visibly touched by her cries and sincere adoration. This brief and macabre encounter resonates like a symbolic farewell to youth an intolerable situation aggravated by Myrtle's next role of an 'old' woman named Virginia.
Basically, Myrtle is torn between two extreme perceptions of her condition, Nancy, eternally young, and Virginia's, whose "Second Woman" titular nickname denotes the idea of a second virginity, as to imply, that age, is synonym of asexuality, absence of desire, menopause with pause as a static, obedient position Myrtle, absorbed by her teenage angst-like crisis, can't tolerate. But this is Myrtle's conception of age; Cassavettes offers another one, more positive.
Cassavettes describes every wrinkle in an old person's face as a heritage from the past, painful, happy, emotional, a precious memory cherished like a treasure. Aging is also incarnated by the character of Joan Blondell, Sarah Goode, the 65-year old woman who wrote the play, she and Rowlands, beautifully underline the self-reflexive nature of the film. The wise Sarah tries to explain that age is less a doom than an enrichment, but she forgets two essential elements on Myrtle's personality, which explain her defensive attitude and obstinacy in not telling her age.
First, Myrtle is an actress so dedicated to her profession that her aura transcends the limits of stage, Manny Victor, the director, played by the magnetic and suave Ben Gazzara is like hypnotized by Myrtle, and shows an extreme patience despite her incessant caprices. Secondly, Myrtle can't embody Virginia, as she rejects the sinister reality that aging can crystallize, still convinced about Nancy's inner youth inhabiting her heart. The conflict is here, Myrtle is so dedicated to one character that if she ever tried to Virginia, she will become Virginia, and then she must overpower this "Second Woman" even if it implies a total detachment from Sarah, an obvious motherly figure. This rebellion leads to some very eloquent moments in their awkwardness.
I realized while watching "The Opening Night" how my shy nature makes me fear improvisation, because I hate embarrassing situation, but in Cassavetes' view, improvisation is totally conscious. Myrtle doesn't know what to say, but she know what she's doing, hence the suspenseful embarrassing moments where she doesn't get up after a 'slap' or when she leaves an actor who tries to handle the critical situation by mechanical laughs, while a close-up shows Cassavettes' close-up show his tongue nervously rolling in his mouth, expecting boos like the explosion of a psychological ticking bomb. No other film-maker than John Cassavettes had this ability to make my heart pound with such realistic situations.
The film is full of such moments, where the eye of the camera shows what the stage spectator can't. The theater becomes an allegory of our own lives, while the eye of the cinema vérité allows us to see what really goes backstage. The truth, the authenticity this eternal quest of Cassavettes found an even more powerful meaning with the theater, which is the Art where no mistake is allowed. But in a masterstroke, Cassavettes reconciles the two notions by showing that even in a restricting context, you can improvise and touch the hearts.
Virginia's unpredictability makes everybody nervous, but there's something that rings profoundly true, because she –like in real life- doesn't do what she's told to do, she just expresses feelings. The whole role is about overcoming an intolerable reality, and Myrtle's improvisation is like a psychological rodeo where at any moments, she can fall. But as Cassavettes, an artist, above anything must "dare to fail".
And failure was a close call: in a booze-driven self-destructive impulse, Myrtle drinks, tries to flirt with Nancy in one side, and dominate Virginia in another, in the play, no one knew how to handle her during the Opening Night in Broadway. Sarah was resigned while Manny, finally punished her by letting her crawl in the floor while she was dead drunk, and maybe this sudden outburst of violence ignited the flame burning in Myrtle's heart Myrtle who, in a climactic fight, got rid of Nancy because she understood that was the salvation, the only way to understand and dominate Virginia.
Myrtle domesticated all her fears and gained enough courage to finally be 'herself' on-stage, by commanding the spirit of the Second Woman. Her improvisation inspired Cassavettes' improvisation, and the result was transcending to a point we could wonder if the public didn't applaud for John and Gena, a touching inside joke confirmed by the presence of old friends like Peter Falk, and Seymour Cassel at the premiere. Myrtle proved Cassavettes' theory that life is all about 'improvising and daring to fail'.
Did she stop drinking? Is her existential crisis over? Cassavettes doesn't embarrass himself with such certitudes, "Opening Night" is simply an existential coming-of-age story and a poignant hymn for self-conquest