'Amargosa' tells mesmerizing tale of eccentric ballet dancer
By David Templeton
TODD Robinson's Amargosa is a mesmerizing
cinematic surprise, an offbeat, often-moving tale
of a singularly odd woman. Marta Becket, age
76, is a semi-reclusive painter and ballet dancer
who resides in a remote ghost town: Death
Valley Junction, population 10, a slowly
crumbling collection of shacks located at the
edge of California's Death Valley.
For decades, Becket has been out there in the
middle of nowhere, performing inexplicable
"dance-mime" shows for anyone willing to drive
the necessary hundreds of miles. Her venue is
the grandly named Amargosa Opera House, a
once-deteriorating meeting hall that Becket
named the Amargosa after the former mining
town's original name.
Crowds were scarce at first, so Becket painted
her own audience on the interior walls of the
theater. For no apparent reason, she painted
them as Renaissance Italians. Filling the theater,
these silent peasants and courtiers cavort merrily
and watch the stage, beautifully crafted
characters in an intricate al fresco fairy tale.
Amargosa, the movie, of course, is nothing if
not a fairy tale. It's a story of loss and
redemption, in which an eccentric dreamer
attempts to lose her demons in the desert and
half-succeeds. It's also an inspirational tale in
which a lone soul bravely pursues her art for the
sheer pleasure and blissful salvation of the
artistic act.
If this were fiction--if Marta Becket were not a
real person--then the whole oddball-in-the-desert
scenario might seem like something dreamed up
by David Lynch. Or Sam Shepard. But Becket
is very much the real thing, and she has made
quite a name for herself out there in the desert.
The performances she continues to give--twice a
week, every month from October to May--now
sell out every show. The theater's murals have
made the building a candidate for landmark
status.
Robinson's respectful, knowingly tangential
documentary--a finalist for last year's Best
Documentary Oscar--explores Becket's
enigmatic existence with equal parts affection
and amusement.
Scenes of Becket toe-dancing on stage, sinewy
and lithe despite her years, are intercut with
segments that initially seem to have little to do
with anything: Becket leading a midnight tour of
the town's "haunted" hotel; Tom
Willet--Becket's swaggering, semi-toothless
stage-partner--tearing through the desert on his
three-wheeled motorcycle or showing off a
model train track he's run through every room
of an abandoned house; Becket feeding wild
horses from her back porch, or weeping softly
as she remembers her father's disdain for her
artistic inclinations, or firmly detailing her plans
to be buried in the horse graveyard behind her
house.
The film is poetically narrated by Mary
McDonnell (Dances with Wolves), and intercut
with lively interviews by such Amargosa fans as
science-fiction writer Ray Bradbury. Indeed, it
is Bradbury who sums up Becket's importance
when he says, putting the message of her life
and work into words, "If you want to do
something, don't talk about it. For God's sake,
do it."
In the end, the film, like Becket herself, is both
whimsical and a little bit baffling--but, like
Becket, it is also moving and quietly astounding.
'Amargosa' opens Friday, Dec. 8, at the Rafael Film
Center, 1118 Fourth St., San Rafael. For details, see
Movie Times, page 31, or call 415/454-1222.
From the December 7-13, 2000 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.