Father and son

The Fourth of July is behind us, a day when we eat, drink, watch fireworks and celebrate—what? Our nation? Our citizenship? Our economic recovery? No disrespect for those who rally ‘round the flag, but for many of us, patriotism is a complicated concept, one that’s wrapped up in hope and disappointment and potential and unfairness.

That said, it’s a privilege for those of us who are citizens to feel that way, because we largely take our circumstances for granted. That’s not the case for the patriarch in , the new film from Chris Weitz.

Demián Bichir is Carlos Galindo, a single dad who lives in a crummy little house in East L.A. and spends his days as a gardener, doing backbreaking labor for wealthy people. Yes, Carlos is illegal, but his son, Luis (José Julián), a smart kid who goes to a shitty school, was born here. Carlos is always worried about being deported, because Luis is already on the verge of joining a gang and has no appreciation for the sacrifices his dad has made for him.

Sure, Weitz is the guy who made the second Twilight film, and he’s also responsible for half of , but the relationships on display here have more in common with another of his films, About a Boy.

Bichir’s performance is tremendous; he personalizes the enormous number of undocumented immigrants living and working in the U.S. The pain and frustration he conveys is palpable, even if much of the movie feels pretty standard. If anything, A Better Life’s biggest problem is that it often suffers from VIMS (Very Important Movie Syndrome), high on its own significance instead of focused on creating a unique story.

That’s too bad, because this is a very important story. Our attitudes toward immigrants, both legal and illegal, need to be overhauled as much as our immigration system does, with an understanding that anger, frustration, economic despair and racism all play a part in how we feel about folks crossing our borders in order to make a better life for themselves and their families.

If we’re lucky, A Better Life will keep us talking about the situation, and if it does, it will likely be because of Bichir’s performance, which is always consistent, keeping the film grounded in reality even when it veers towards sentimentality.

Rhapsody, Sensorium, and Still Life at the Penguin Café, Royal ...

, A delightful ballet created by Frederick Ashton in 1980. He made it for Baryshnikov in the lead role, and the quick darting steps for the leading man were brilliantly executed here by Steven McRae — his pirouettes with jumps were terrific. Yet McRae was not alone in his fabulous performance, but beautifully partnered by Alina Cojocaru, who danced with consummate musicality. Barry Wordsworth in the orchestra pit breathed life into Rachmaninov’s music, particularly during the big  pas-de-deux , and the way it captures light and shade is beautifully assisted by Adam Wiltshire’s simple designs along with lighting by John Read showing subtle changes of intensity and colour. The principal couples were Marianela Nuñez with Rupert Pennefather, and Leanne Benjamin with Thomas Whitehead, and they and the other ten supporting dancers gave a wonderfully controlled performance. The choreography doesn’t flow and excite in the way that  Rhapsody , but this extraordinary work by David Bintley is nothing if not full of movement, eloquently expressing the life and energy of animals who are being left behind in a changing world. Emma Maguire was charming in the first movement as the Great Auk, a type of penguin that became extinct in the nineteenth century, and Zenaida Yanowsky was in sparkling form in the second movement as the Utah Longhorn Ram, excellently partnered by Gary Avis. These largish animals are followed by the Texan Kangaroo Rat, danced with wonderful fluidity by James Hay, and then come the dancing fleas, with Iohna Loots dancing brightly as the skunk flea in orange. After that comes the large Southern Cape Zebra with his bevy of charming ladies, and Edward Watson portrayed him with great stage presence.

Towards the end, Steven McRae burst in as the Brazilian Woolly Monkey, dancing up a storm with fabulous jumps and fluid movements. It’s a glorious ballet to watch, and the music by Stephen Jeffes is an eclectic mix of Charleston, ballroom, jazz, folk and Latin American, superbly conducted by Paul Murphy. I particularly loved the huge bounce he gave to the movement with the fleas, but it was all enormous fun.

This is a Triple Bill not to be missed. The company is doing an extraordinary job in putting on these evenings with three ballets, and the idea that there are empty seats in well-appointed boxes is appalling. There are five more performances, finishing on March 28 — for more details click  here .