Watching John Cassavetes film, Opening Night, I was reminded of something that Quentin Tarantino said once in an interview about personal experience in being a creator of art or acting. He referred to an example of, say, if he ran over a dog while on his way to act in a play that it wouldn't be the end of his life but that it would affect him, and that, without a doubt, he would have to bring that experience with him on stage even if it was a light comedy. "Otherwise," as he said, "what am I doing?" I couldn't help but think of his words when watching Gena Rowland's character, Myrtle Gordon, who for almost a whole week or so goes through a very similar scenario. There is more to this in Cassavetes' film, of course, since it's about how the theater works around a star actress, what emotion and human nature mean when looking at playing a character, and how one lives when all one has (like Myrtle Gordon) is the theater.
Near the beginning of the film, after exiting a performance, Myrtle is signing autographs and one such fan named Nancy comes up to her favorite star and pours her heart out to Myrtle. It's a touching little moment, but it doesn't last as she has to get in the car (pouring rain and all). She then watches in horror as the girl, who stood right next to the car as it drove off, gets hit by another car in an auto accident. She's not sure really what happened, but then finds out the next day that in fact the girl did die from the hit. From then on she's sort of stunned by this even after she thinks it's out of her system. At first this shows in small ways, like when she rehearses a scene with her fellow actor (played by Cassavetes) and can't seem to stand being hit - she blames it on the lack of depth in the character (the writer: "What do you think the play lacks?" "Hope," says Myrtle)- but then Nancy starts to show up to her, an apparition that to Myrtle is all to real, until she's suddenly gone.
Cassavetes, as in the past films, is after a search for what it means to have emotion, to really feel about something and feel it, or the lack thereof, and how it affects others around the person. This isn't exactly new ground for Rowlands, who previously played a woman on the edge of herself in Woman Under the Influence (in that case because of alcohol), nor would it be alien territory for costar Ben Gazzara, who just came off starring in Killing of a Chinese Bookie. But the actors express everything essential to their characters in every scene; Cassavetes doesn't tell them how to get from A to B in a scene, and he doesn't need to. There's a mood in a Cassavetes film that trumps the sometimes grungy camera-work. You know Myrtle, for example, should be content somehow, even if it isn't with the plot. But she's haunted, and is unsatisfied with her character's lack of depth and the tone of the play ("Aging, who goes to see that?" she asks the playwright), and it starts to affect those around her too.
The question soon becomes though not what is the usual. A conventional dramatist would make the conflict 'Will she be able to go on stage, will the show go on?' This isn't important for Cassavetes, even if it's there, as is the question 'Will she be alright?' Perhaps going through such a grueling play as "The Second Woman" could help her work out her personal demons and her losing her grip on reality (seeing Sara and attacking her in front of total strangers, who wonder what the hell is going on)? Or will the play's lack of hope strain everything else wrong with her? The depths Rowlands makes with her character are intense and harrowing, and that it's expected doesn't mean it's any duller than Woman Under the Influence- if anything, it's just as good as that film at being honest about a person in this profession, and consequently the other performances are just as true, from Gazarra to Nancy played by a subtle Laura Johnson. Cassavetes answers to his own posed questions aren't easy.
One of the real thrills of Opening Night, along with seeing great actors performing an amazing script, is to see Cassavetes take on the theater the way he does. We see the play performed- and it's apparently a real play- and we only know slightly what it's about. When we see the actors on the stage performing it, we wax and wane between being involved in what melodrama is going on (relationship scuffling and affairs and the occasional slap and domestic violence) and the improvisation of the actors. I wondered watching how much really was improvised, how much Cassavetes allowed for the other actors to do in the scenes where Myrtle starts to go loopy or, in the climax, is completely smashed. He's on the stage, too, so it must have been something for them to work it out beforehand and let what would happen happen.
It's funny, startling, chilling, and edge-of-your-seat stuff, some of the best theater-on-film scenes ever put in a movie, and we see the lines between actor on stage, actor on film, actor with actor, blur together wonderfully. Opening Night is a potent drama that is full of frank talk about death and madness, reality and fiction, where the love is between people, and really, finally, what does 'acting' mean?

Cartoon Network seems to be desperate for ratings. Beginning with the cancellation of Samurai Jack, the network seemed hellbent on removing all the shows that made it so popular, such as the Powerpuff Girls, Dexter's Lab, Dragonball Z, etc. When the ratings started to plummet, CN began putting up some pretty mediocre shows. Though Total Drama Island/Action and Chowder stand out because of their clever writing and audience-pleasing gimmicks, there are plenty of other shows that either terrible remakes (George of the Jungle) or rip offs of other shows, such as The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack, where the title character acts just like Spongebob, and then there's Johnny Test, which is something of a replacement for Dexter's Laboratory, though it's much more of a sheer rip off than anything.
The show's characters are clearly derived from Dexter's Lab, only this time the focus is on Johnny, a blonde (or fiery-haired) character who torments his twin sisters, Susan and Mary, who just HAPPEN to look just like Dexter, from the orange hair, to the glasses, the impossible technology. There is even a rival genius named Bling Bling Boy or Eugene, who appears to be sitting in for Mandark. Then there's Dookie, Johnny's best friend and talking dog, one of Dexter's...I mean, Susan and Mary's early experiments.
Dexter's Laboratory was probably one of the best cartoons on television, with its simple, but effective art style, lovable main character, and episodes that don't seem to be a long drag. Johnny Test is a lot different. The art style here isn't nearly as eye-pleasing. In fact, it looks absolutely awful. The characters have motivations that make them really annoying or repulsive. Like how most of the series' episodes consist Johnny and Dookie's quest for havoc on the neighborhood girl Sissy, whom Johnny secretly likes, or the twins' obsession over a boy next door. Seeing these two geniuses swoon at the sight of abs and the fact that Johnny appears to be someone you would NEVER want to associate with, there is no real connection between the viewer and characters.
One thing the series heavily exploits in its name is that Johnny is Susan and Mary's guinea pig for their experiments. These range from turning Johnny fat, ugly, monstrous, and even into a woman. The twins then help Johnny in whatever scheme he's planning in return for his services. Whenever there's an episode involving this kind of "win/win" deal, it usually comes undone at the seems and those that doesn't come completely off the rails never ends satisfyingly.
The writing ranges from mediocre to horrid, however. The 'fat' episode constantly repeats "It's Phat with a PH. There's a difference, you know." which is a line that should never be repeated, especially when the episode seems to PROMOTE child obesity, with Johnny becoming a famous star with money and videogames just by becoming fat.
Let's talk about how the show doesn't completely rip off Dexter's Lab. The show tosses in a lot of characters, from two Men-in-Black named Mr. Black and Mr. White, a military general who seems to need all his problems solved through Johnny and his sisters, and LOTS of super villains, though even here, the show again steals ideas for other sources, like a Mr. Freeze teenage clone, an evil cat with a butler who wants cats to rule over man (like the evil talking cat from Powerpuff Girls), a bumbling maniac mastermind, a trio of evil skater 'dudes' and even a Mole Man, which is probably the most cliché villain in the media.
To top it all off, alongside its ugly animation and unlikeable characters, the voice acting is either passable (like the voices for Mr. Black and Mr. White) to just plain ear-splitting (Johnny, Dookie, and just about every villain in the show). The theme song seems to be the only catchy thing to this show, but then it was redone just a few episodes with a band that just ruined it.
So in the end, Johnny Test is not a good cartoon. Its horrible references and jokes about teen culture will dismantle little children's interest in the show, while its bright coloring, ripped-off characters, and dragging episodes will ruin the experience for teens. It's just another one of those crappy shows that Cartoon Network is over-promoting to trick people to watching it (like MTV toward rap). If you need a show that will satisfy your children for a half hour, you'd better stick to Spongebob, because Johnny Test is more of a "test" of patience than anything else.