The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current, January 19, 1982, Page Page 5, Image 5
Tuesday, January 19, 1982 Daily Nebraskan Pago 5 Arts & Entertainment 'Confessors' gives look at international art world By Doug Bruster Early in 1959, Thomas 1 loving began to search for a career which could combine curiosity and expertise with excitement and action. And so, he tells us, he became an art dealer. Moving, author of last year's best-selling Tutankliamen: The Untold Story, paints a fascinating picture of the world of international art dealing with King of the Confessors (Simon and Schuster, 365 pag es, $16.95), his second work of nonfiction. 55 I Book pr ) Review It chronicles his position as assistant cura tor of the Metropolitan Museum of Art's medieval branch, and, in particular, his quest for an object dart which gradually becomes an obsession. The object is a large, ivory altar cross. In the hands of a strange Yugoslav collect or, the corss is a veritable wealth of puz zles. Presumably an eleventh century Anglo-Saxon carving, it is so delicate in construction and beautiful in design that it ranks high among all of medieval art. Adorned with Biblical scenes and figures, it fascinates all who behold it - including Moving himself, an expert on medieval art. Yet Moving is puzzled by several things. The inscription over Christ's head on the cross reads "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Confessors" instead of the "King of the Jews" normally found on medieval Roman esque objects. Also the presence of several harsh curses against the Jewish people. These stir up a few of the many theological questions raised by the cross. Is it anti Semctic? Does it shed new light on the growth and posture of Christianity during the Middle Ages? Moving is keen to know. Also puzzling is the background of the crucifix. Some people whisper to Moving that it was part of the Nazi plunder of Jew ish art collections during the World War I. Still others insist that it is a fake. Standing between him and the ivory carving are his obstinate superior at the Met, James Rorimer, and the owner of the cross, a mysterious foreigner named Topic Mimara. Like The Maltese Falcon's Mr. Cairo, Topic Mimara is a greasy, cunning man, constant only in his unpredictability. Me keeps the cross locked, along with the rest of his forgery -laden collection, in the bowels of a Zurich bank, allowing interest ed parties to view the crucifix only under the strictest supervision. Mimara is unaware that most of his "masterpieces" are shams, and seems intent on making it as hard as possible for Moving to procure the ivory cross for the Metropolitan's Cloisters col lection. Other museums from around the world are in a race for the cross, too, and franti cally ply Mimara for bargain big positions as Moving jets around the continent look ing into the background of both the cross and Topic Mimara. By now he has be come enthralled with the enigmatic ivory crucifix, and believes that he must procure it for the museum at all costs. Of course this leads to an ending full of anxious mo ments. Does he get the cross? It would cer tainly be hard for one possessing Hoving's resource and enthusiasm not to. And yet it is this same zeal that impairs King of the Confessors. Moving's style falls prey to his eagerness, lacking in depth where he apparently felt the subject matter would compensate. In contrast he too often attempts to dramatize events which the reader feels would have been quite ac ceptable left as they were. Me pictures him self as a crusader on a quest for a holy relic, and often loses true perspective of himself. Things, places, and people in the book seem inflated and chapters end on mysterious notes as if Moving felt he need ed to pad his writing. Though not always the thriller it intends to be, King of the Confessors is, neverthe less, a tolerable bit of escapism and an in teresting - if self-indulgent - look at the international art world. It leaves us with no doubt, though, that Thomas Moving is an art dealer first, and a writer second. Cityscape it ij u " , k 1 1 .,t- '"i i3(irf l4rf: iJS!!?. -" """J t 1 "I'm the scrubbing woman. I'm the order woman. When the boxes come in, I nave to wrestle them downstairs," Esther Lieurance said. In fact, since her husband died two years ago, Esther singlehandedfy has done all the jobs required to keep The Fun Shop - a gag gift, costume, novelty and magic shop - open for the 32nd year. But she isnt complaining about the work. "I really enjoy it. lean tell you I don t liave to do this. I can retire whenever I want to. , , '7 enjoy it so much that I feel I want to keep on going as long as I can. Although the store entrance is hidden and Esther doesn't advertise, she said she still gets plenty of repeat customers and people who have heard of the store from friends. "It 's just that we ve been here so long that people know it And they keep coming in to buy the magic tricks, the make-up, the masks, the novelties and the other unusual items Esther stocks in The Fun Shop. By D. Eric Kircher Modem Problems' old and in the way By Cydney Wilson The problem demonstrated in Modem Problems is experienced more by the audience than any of the characters in the movie, in that the audience has to sit through the film. Movie goers enter the theater expecting a film as well done, or at least as funny, as Chase's past films: Seems Like Old Times, Foul Play or Under the Rainbow. Some pTobaby tVvougJt they would see a gWrrvpao of tYve comedian of Saturday Night Live fame. Instead, those who see Modem Problems view a Chevy Chase trying to portray Max Fiedler, a humbling air traffic controller. The movie begins with Max Fiedler losing his girlfriend because of his fits of jealous rage. Yet he runs into her throughout the film, no matter where he goes. On the freeway one night he is exposed to nuclear waste in the form of green slime which covers his car, arriving home glowing iridescently. This radiation gives him miraculous powers, allowing him to fly a bar of soap through the air, Movie Review produce a fountain of blood from the nose of his ex-girlfriend's new flame, spin a man's body over a dining room table, and control his own life, as well as the lives of those around him. We should be so lucky that being exposed to nuclear radiation is so harmless, and in addition so non toxically amusing. The scenes that are funny initially, soon lose their appeal as the act is repeated with a new twist, two or three times. An example of this is in the scene where Max moves, (through his powers), a male ballet performer off the stage into the orchestra pit, (amusing), into the set through mid-air, (okay), and then inflates the dancer's tights, (getting old). The plot line is fairly basic, once you get beyond the nuclear waste theory: girl leaves the basic "clod," (Max), and throughout the entire movie he tries to prove how much he loves her, yet no matter how hard he tries to change and shape up he messes up even more. Thus the girl "knows" that she's helplessly in love with him. Dabney Coleman, portrays Mark Winslow, an author of self-help books. He is convincing as a despicable, egotisti cal snob. A scene between Max and Darby is especially amusing. The movie went from Max being exposed to nuclear wast on the freeway, a tiny bit unbelievable, to the ridiculous, as Nell Carter, a voodoo maid tries to exorcise the "devil" from Max. She goes through all kinds of con tortions: sprinkling white powder around a room which he promptly snorts up, and dancing all over the room. Chase spins around, speaks in "strange" voices, etc. Al together, the scene is a poorly done take-off on The Exorcist. Everyone in the movie is extremely chummy consider ing the fact that the group includes a divorced couple, a girl trying to break up with her live-in boyfriend, and an author who gets along with virtually no one. Toward the end of the movie, Chevy Chase blows steam out of his ears and rolls his eves around, and yells: "I like it!" I did not.