The Philadelphia Inquirer from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania • Page 40

8-C Saturday, Feb. 14, 1987 The Philadelphia Inquirer Pa. group's mixed bill offers mixed results with 5 choreographers Reviewi Dance 2 -i 'dMk- Another 'Rocky but with a twist By Desmond Ryan Inquirer Movu Critic Over the Top casts Sylvester Stallone as an independent trucker named Lincoln Hawk, the proprietor and sole employee of a company called Hawk Hauling. By the predictable end of the movie, you may feel that hawk-hauling an obscure blood-sport, presumably for those tired of shooting clay pigeons is just about the only athletic pursuit that hasn't been the subject of a cheap Hollywood inspirational. And although Over the Top gives Stallone a little more to say and do than usual, I'm not sure that hawk-hauling or peregrine-pulling wouldn't make a more visually and dramatically gripping subject for a jock movie than the "sport" of arm-wrestling.

Here, it looks like the last desperate hope of late-night programmers at ESPN, a pastime more appropriate to the corner tappie or a Lite beer commercial than a movie. The one thing you can say on behalf of Over the Top is that its makers sensed they were not dealing with a national pastime that engages the passions of millions of Americans. They have attempted to compensate with a half-hearted story of a father's attempt to rekindle his relationship 1 with his alienated 12-year-old son. But there's not a lot of room for a relationship in a movie where people strut around saying "1 got $1,000 says I can tear your arm off' and most of the arm-wrestlers make Star Wars' Chewbacca look like an undcrnour-' ished organ monkey. fellow arm-wrestler (Rick Zumwalt, left) in "Over The Top, Sylvester Stallone battles a Review: Film OVER THE TOP Produced by Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus, directed by Menahem Golan, written by Stirling Silliphant and Sylvester Stallone, photography by David Gurfinkel.

music by Giorgio Moroder, distributed by Cannon Films. Running time: 1 hour, 30 mins. Lincoln Hawk Sylvester Stallone Jason Cutler Robert Loggia Christina Hawk Susan Blakely Bob "Bull" Hurley Rick Zumwalt Michael Cutler David Mendenhall Parent's guide: PG (mild profanity) Showing: At area theaters. The irony is that Stallone has only himself to blame for this disarming predicament. There are a few echoes of the charm and innocence of Rocky, the film that made him the proverbial overnight star a decade ago and revived the fashion for sports movies.

But the truth is that the best the The opposition consists of various behemoths and Stallone's rich father-in-law (Robert Loggia), who wants custody of the boy. It is never clear why Stallone and Loggia hate each other. When the latter yells at the outset, "I can't stand stupidity," you have to wonder why Loggia, a graceful character actor, ever agreed to do the movie. The feud between the men occupies the space between the bouts in which Stallone takes up various beefy arms and sees a lot of trouble. The proceedings are not without entertainment value.

Instead of the usual training sequence on sandy beaches, we get Sly training by lifting weights while driving his 18-wheeler. The next time you're nearly killed by a truck on the New Jersey Turnpike, check for an in-cab gym. It gives a whole new meaning to the idea of roadwork and, unfortunately, it's the only fresh idea in a movie whose sole ambition is to give Stallone's fans exactly what they want. Remembering Rubinstein 100 years after his birth Pi? 'fSXV. i ff By Nancy Goldner inquirer Dance Critic Mixed bills are rare in the Philadelphia dance scene, and so the program presented by the Pennsylvania Dance Theater last night at Temple University's Conwell Dance Lab was of special interest.

It was a genuine sampler of modern dance five dances by five choreographers. The quintet Ohad Naharin, Rachel Lampert, Ze'eva Cohen, Stephen Koester, and Robert Small are not front-liners in dance, but they are all nationally known and respected. In contrast, the Pennsylvania Dance Theater, headquartered in State College, is a fairly local product. For all the enterprising spirit of LaRue Allen, the group's director, to cast so wide a net, the fruit of her efforts was less exciting in actuality than on paper. Each dance had merit, but no one dance galvanized the evening.

Finally, it was a middle-of-the-road program by middle-range talent. The most vivid and mature piece was Cohen's Sephardic Songs, set to traditonal Sephardic songs arranged by the Waverly Consort. Avoiding the obvious ploy of composing overtly sensuous and stereotypically Mediterranean movement to the music, Cohen instead created statuesque and sometimes starkly declamatory gesture. The first section, a duet, suggested a certain discomfort in the woman's body as she was clasped by her partner. Her rigidity was in refreshing contrast to the lyrical music.

In the third and final section, Kelly Michaels semaphored messages of great import, it seemed, so strong and singular were his arm movements. I couldn't decipher what his message was, but it didn't matter. I loved the urgency and drama of it. The program opened with Nahar- seemed to like the piano itself. He sort of felt, 'This is a nice, big piece of furniture.

Can't we have fun What was it about Rubinstein that enabled him to charm cognoscenti and laymen alike? Apparently it was a combination of qualities, not all of them musical. One of the nonmusical ones was his very appearance. "He had audiences in his hand before he played a note," said Julian Kreeger, a Miami lawyer and record collector. "Just from the way he walked, you could tell he had real confidence." As he was playing, though, what struck his listeners most forcibly was the sheer sound he drew from the piano. "It was never captured on record quite like it sounded in a house," said Ivan Davis, pianist and artist-in-residence at the University of Miami in Coral Gables, Fla.

"I remember magical moments, like in (Chopin's D-flat Nocturne it had the most wonderful, liquid sound, warm but very delicate." Rubinstein responded to the passing of the years by setting new challenges for himself. At age 69, in a set of five New York concerts in 1956, he performed no fewer than 17 concertos within only 13 days. And in fall 1961 at 74 he gave 10 Carnegie Hall recitals in 40 days, without repeating a work. He kept up a grueling year-in, year-out pace. Well into his 80s he was still playing 100 concerts a year, all over the world.

Some pieces that were technically very demanding, such as the Second Piano Concerto of Brahms, got better as he got older, Deacon noted. "With a piece like that, you grow into it," he said. "Young people can play it, but they can't really play it. They're still just seeing the notes, and Rubinstein got beyond that. He kind of fussed with it in the early days.

But as he got older he took the perfume away and just gave us big, sturdy Brahms." Rubinstein did the same with everything he played, Deacon said. "What happened, I think, was that he pruned everything away. This is something that I think happens with activities, said poet Sam Allen would read love poems and folk tales to children at noon today at the Please Touch Museum, 210 N. 21st St. The program is free with the $3.50 admission to the museum.

The final event of the week will be a "book concert" for children, featuring the Arthur Hall Afro-American Dance Ensemble interpreting books, at 2 p.m. tomorrow in the Montgomery Auditorium at the Logan Square library. Admission is free. Yesterday's program had been scheduled for Monday but was canceled because of snow. Mayor Goode, who had agreed to read for the children on Monday, yesterday sent his regrets and a proclamation praising the "Read Together" program.

The 75 children present were from the public Waring School, 18th and Green Streets; the Roman Catholic archdiocesan St. Francis Xavier School, 24th and Green Streets, and the private leaves of Grass School at 23d and Arch Streets. Tucker concluded hisr 15-minute in's Rain, Rocks, Clouds and Pilgrims. This is the kind of dance that has all the right ingredients variety, good punch lines, attractive patterns for the five dancers but no strong taste. One intuits that Naharin is intending to create images.

It's OK that neither rain, rocks, clouds nor pilgrims are in sight, out nothing else is, either. Black humor was provided by Lampert issue. Daddy's hand caresses Mommy's neck a mite too tightly as they waltz ever so graciously, while Daughter mimics them with fake innocence. What's more real to her is the monster fantasy she describes to us, which ensures her no peace of mind, issue's plot is better than the choreography. Black spirits were provided by Koeoter's Glass Houses, in which four dancers behave with sullen, bullying and otherwise nasty manners.

Koester is a master of one-liners, which flow forth with unfaltering ease. I found the bantering rhythm of this dance oppressively oily and more disagreeable than the behavior patterns of the characters. With Small's Watermelon came a sharp change of pace, as was evident by the title. Watermelon is sweet, but this dance was cloying with its country-bumpkin, wide-eyed airs. The dancers in the company are uneven.

The certainty with which Gwen Welliver holds her body makes her outstanding; the two men, meanwhile, are way behind all the women. Yet I grew to like all the dancers better as the evening progressed. In this case, familiarity bred respect. The program repeats tonight at 8. age.

You start honing artistically. For some of us, the Chopin recordings from the '30s are still quite wonderful, because they capture him in such a spontaneous mood. "But as he got older, he started to think about what he was going to leave behind. And if you listen to the newer recordings, you'll sense a tremendous calm and discipline and purity." In the 1970s, as his eyesight began to deteriorate, Rubinstein was forced to cut the number of his engagements. His playing became less consistent, but he could still rise to an occasion.

"Even in the last years he was playing," Watts said, "a lot of what he played was really not OK. But then he'd turn out something that was some little piece of perfection musically, physically, sonically, everything. And that made it all worthwhile." Deacon has equally vivid memories of hearing the 89-year-old Rubinstein play Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 5, known as the Emperor, in Paris. "It was one of the very last performances he gave," Deacon said, "and he swamped the orchestra.

I was at the very last row of the upper balcony of this enormous convention center, and I remember being stunned by the sound coming out of the piano. He had a huge sound, even then." A more intangible part of the Rubinstein mystique was the connection between his music and his life. He was the quintessential bon vi-vant, and his circle of intimates included innumerable members of the world's artistic and social elite. He loved fine food, fine wine and fine cigars, and even as an octogenarian he gleefully socialized far into the night after he finished a concert. And this is what audiences sensed when he walked on stage.

"You felt that generosity of spirit so strongly that you couldn't help but come out with a big smile on your face," Deacon said. "You just loved him, the way we donl love anybody today." reading visit with the children by saying he had to get back to work. He left the program in the hands of Hedra Peter-man, head of the children's department. She introduced Captain Noah (in real life, Carter Merbreier), who read from his book Prayers of the Animals and gave an autographed copy of the 55-page paperback to each of the children. TV actor Jenkins, who played Huckleberry Finn in the Broadway play Big River, read from the play, and then It was time for library director Doms, who read the children a story called "The Magic Lollipop." Doms was asked how he had selected the story.

"The librarians here in the children's department picked it out for me," he said. "I figure you have to rely on the experts." Each of the performers received polite applause from the children, but it was clear that in terms of popularity, the television captain outranked commissiojier. genre has yielded in the last 10 years Raging Bull, North Dallas Forty and Chariots oj Fire come to mind have disdained the Rocky road and subordinated sports to character and conflict. The imitations of Rocky have been legion, led by the Rocky sequels themselves. Finding a new sport for the up-from-bumhood theme has been increasingly difficult and the road from the outhouse to the penthouse has been pot holed by dropped cliches.

Stallone himself has essayed several sports outside the ring soccer in Victory, wrestling in Paradise Alley and world-team commie-bashing in Rambo. In Over the Top, he follows the traditional format with a slight variation: The thankless task of rooting for him, normally assigned to Talia Shire, is given to the son. The mother is nobly and gravely ill, which gives Sly his mandatory hospital grief scene, and then it's on to the arm-wrestling championship in Las Vegas. 1 and Norris, as well as the motivations of most players at the schools. "There's no doubt you're constantly fighting the environment in the neighborhoods," he said.

"One of the big draws to chess is travel, the ability to get out of the neighborhood." Chesin said scriptwriter Bird came to Philadelphia after reading an article about the Vaux team in the Wall Street Journal in 1981, the year the Bad Bishops won their fifth straight title. "Both Stephen Shutt and myself were involved with him in the writing," Chesin said. "He met a lot of our players and drew upon their mannerisms and characters." Chesin is predominantly pleased with the telemovie, which he believes imparts a positive message about "hard work. It shows that if kids are willing to put in the time before or after school, and you have teachers willing to work with them, then you can succeed" The 1980 Bad Bishops of Vaux, with coach whose experiences the movie "The Mighty Jeffrey Chesin (center), are one team on Pawns" is based. Chess success of Phila.

teams portrayed in 'Mighty Pawns' By Steven Brown Orldndo Sentinel In any era, two or three classical musicians insinuate themselves into the consciousness of the general public. Today, for example, the name of Luciano Pavarotti is definitely a household word, and it's likely that Itzhak Perlman's is, too. During the three or four decades after World War II, probably the most prominent member of this elite group was a man whose name was, in the minds of the masses, virtually synonymous with the piano: Artur Rubinstein. And this winter, 100 years after his birth in Lodz, Poland, it is a good time to look at the qualities that made him a musical institution. He was before the public for an extraordinary length of time: His first appearance was in 1893, his last in 1976.

As his recordings and the testimonies of people who heard him in person attest, he did some of his best playing while he was in his 70s and 80s. And after he bade farewell to the piano, his memories were so bountiful that he could dictate more than 1,100 pages of autobiography before he died in December 1982. Those who knew him from both records and personal appearances are unanimous about one thing: It was in the concert hall that Rubinstein made his greatest impact. "You felt there was just tremendous substance there, both to the man and to the music," said Tom Deacon, producer for the Canadian Broadcasting Co. and an ardent piano buff.

Deacon heard Rubinstein many times from the 1950s to the 1970s. "With Rubinstein you immediately felt that warm, generous presence on stage," he said. "Audiences took him to their hearts; to them, he could do no wrong." The casual listeners weren't the only ones who were impressed. "I really adored the Rubinstein thing," said pianist Andre Watts, who was a 9-year-old in Philadelphia when he heard Rubinstein for the first time. "He really did like what he was doing, which is so great.

Rubinstein I A I I I ''ifM A week stressing CHESS, trom l-t their personal mannerisms when he i wrote his dramatization. From 1977 through 1983, Vaux won seven consecutive national junior high chess team championships. Nearby Douglass, which feeds many players to Vaux, has enjoyed substan- tial success in state and local elementary competition. Bird's imaginary team, based at fictional Central Junior High, wins the national championship in an achievement comparable to Vaux's. In the show, Paul Winfield plays the skeptical school principal, Ned Wright, who doubts that Central's Mighty Pawns team will ever amount to anything; Terence Knox plays the idealistic teacher, Steve Grenowski, 1 who founds the team and leads it to glory, and Alfonso Ribeiro plays Frank Robinson, a student who for- sakes a life of petty crime to become "first board" (the top player) on the winning team.

Deftly written and smoothly acted, The Mighty Pawns is a heartwarming 1 hour. It demonstrates that Wonderworks, which is like an American Playhouse for young viewers, is continuing to build on its successes as it proceeds through its third season. The Mighty Pawns even provides a cameo role for Jeffrey Chesin, one of the real-life chess coaches at Vaux. If 1 you look fast, you can catch sight of Chesin playing the chess coach at Greenview Prep, the snooty, upper- crust academy whose team beats the Mighty Pawns when they first venture out of their inner-city neighbor- hood to play competitive chess. A major difference between the show and real life is that most of the Mighty Pawns team is composed of reformed delinquents, wayward kids who would have gone wrong if the challenge of chess had not inspired them toward constructive achieve- mnnl "Our teams are not based on any disciplinary group," Chesin said.

"We've had A students, students, above and below average." Both teams were formed in 1975, with Michael Sherman the first coach at Vaux and Stephen Shutt founding the chess team at Douglass. Sherman's teams, njeknamed the Bad Shawn Harrison (clockwise), Alfonso Ribeiro, Jermaine Rodney and Desreta Jackson play Mighty Pawn chess team. READING, from 1-C Captain Noah, skipper of the television show Captain Noah and His Magical Ark. It was one of a series of programs this week designed to call attention to "Read Together Week," aimed primarily at encouraging adults, particularly parents, to read to children. Between 11 a.m.

and 2 p.m. today, David Newell, who portrays Mr. McFeeley, the speedy delivery man, on television's Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, will read to children and introduce them to some of the puppets used on the show. His program will be held in the center court in the Gallery, at Ninth and Market Streets.

In addition to Newell's reading, representatives of some of the 22 agencies and businesses that make up the Read Together Coalition will hand out balloons and bookmarks, along with pamphlets, that outline hints about reading to children. Lynne Roberts, executive director of the Friends of the Free Library, which coordinates "ReadvTogether" Bishops, won three national titles. After Chesin replaced Sherman in 1979, the Bishops won four more. Shutt is still coaching the Douglass team, which, like the team in tomorrow's show, is nicknamed the Mighty Pawns. The Pawns have won 12 consecutive state elementary team titles.

As in the telemovie, the Vaux students' chess skills eventually outstripped those of their coaches, and a chess master was brought in from outside the school to bring their play to higher levels. The Mighty Pawns team includes one girl, a comparative rarity in the male-dominated world of competitive chess. But that's not total pretense. "We did have a girl in the early '80s, Debbie Leftwich," Chesin recalled. Chesin said the telemovie reasonably reflects the neighborhood around Vaux, at 24th and Master Streets, and Douglass, nearby at 22d.