Skip to main content

The 11:00 Number

 One way to define the 11:00 number is this: "the final star turn."


Think of "Rose's Turn" or "So Long, Dearie." A major star has a life-changing realization--in "real time." (Starting now, it's gonna be my turn.... or.... Dearie shoulda said so long....so long ago...)

Howard Ashman did something fun with the 11:00 concept. In "Beauty and the Beast," his star--Angela Lansbury--did not actually have the leading role. But Ashman wisely entrusted the fireworks to her. Lansbury could articulate the climactic discovery--"you can change, you can learn"--while the real stars could *enact* the discovery, through a dance. Ashman won the Oscar for this song. (Walt Disney himself had tried for years to dramatize "Beauty and the Beast," but he couldn't wrap his arms around the story. I credit Ashman with locating something universal in the fairy tale: Anyone can be errant and prideful, and this doesn't have to be a permanent situation.)

I think that Stephen Schwartz studied Howard Ashman. And I think "The Prince of Egypt" is an attempt to reproduce the success of "Beauty and the Beast."

After the ten plagues, Moses is all but defeated; he is bitterly sad. It's his wife--voiced by Michelle Pfeiffer--who articulates the big epiphany, in the movie's climax. "Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill." As the Pfeiffer character tells about hope, Moses *shows* what hope is, by dusting himself off and arranging for the parting of the Red Sea. It's a smart move.

Here is the song; like "Beauty and the Beast," it won the "Best Song" Oscar. (A part of me believes that Schwartz ought to have shared the prize with Howard Ashman's ghost.)

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...
1 comment
Read more

My Favorite Pop Song

  One thing I admire about Prince is his weirdly pretentious verses: Dream, if you can, a courtyard-- An ocean of violets in bloom. Also: Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside. No one else writes like this. Did people try to shoot down these choices? Did a producer say, "We'd like to rethink this one... Touch, if you will, my stomach...."  I can't help but wonder. But it's the chorus that makes this a classic. It's direct and universal--and it ends with that bizarre flourish, the allusion to "the crying doves." (Prince's song was number one in America for quite a while; it defeated Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark.") How can you just leave me standing-- Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother; She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cr...
Post a Comment
Read more