It is directed by Rufus Norris, who was behind last year's acclaimed production of Sleeping Beauty.Mr Gutterson, an American resident in London, said: "I'm just a stage mother, really. And Ollie is very much a family member."Invited because of Mrs Law's dog-walking friendship with another Westie owner among the Young Vic's staff, Ollie was one of 10 dogs who turned up for the auditions yesterday morning at the company's rehearsal studios in south London.Amid the yelping and yapping and barking, the dogs were put through their paces so those most suitable for a thespian breakthrough could be identified.The others chosen were Chester, who, fortunately, belongs to one of the theatre staff and Lily, owned jointly by William Gutterson and his niece, Ella O'Brien, 11.The three dogs are expected to rotate the role, the same principle normally applied to child actors.The production is based on Tintin in Tibet, said to be Herge's most personal story, and will run at the Barbican from 29 November to 21 January. "We are all big Tintin fans - I grew up loving Tintin, as did my children. I'm as excited about Ollie getting the role as anyone would be for a success for any member of the family - whether it's children or dogs. What keeps us engaged - "enthralled" might be pushing it - are the terrific performances of the women in general and of Murray in particular. In 1990, when Murray was still in his zany, Saturday Night Live phase, he starred in Quick Change as a bankrobber dressed as a clown. A security guard sees his gun and asks him, "What the hell kind of a clown are you?" To which Murray deadpans, "The crying-on-the-inside kind".
Fifteen years later, Broken Flowers confirms it, truly, as his life's work.. Just like any proud mother, Lizzie Law was delighted yesterday when her Ollie netted a leading role in a prestigious stage production in London "It is fantastic We are all proud of him," she said fondly. He keeps offering us pink-hued hints as to who might have written Don that letter, yet he doesn't really forge a connection between any of the characters. Don's final encounter isn't with a woman but with a backpacking youth, and one notes the visual rhyme of the stripes on his Fred Perry tracksuit and the boy's hooded top; again, though, this is the film-maker asking us to admire his formal dexterity rather than reaching towards some moral epiphany.As far as Jarmusch is concerned, Don's trip can be as empty or as topful of meaning as we want. "The only problem is that I'm not sure whether he gets paid in chocolate chips or Bonios." For Ollie is a 17-month-old white West Highland terrier who is to appear at the Barbican this Christmas as Tintin's right-hand dog, Snowy.He landed the role - to be shared with two other "Westies" - after a rather rapid audition in south London, beating off competition from a Jack Russell clearly hoping to pull the wool over the casting director's eyes.Lively and cheeky just like any teenager - which is what he will soon be in human years - Ollie was raring to go after his success.He will star as Snowy in the Young Vic theatre company's new staging of Tintin in Tibet - one of Herge's famous stories of the quiff-haired boy reporter.For Mrs Law, an office manager from south London with three teenage children, the casting of Ollie is entirely appropriate. And there's a strong likelihood it wouldn't hold up without Murray, the sad-clown prince and world-class haunter of hotel rooms. He conveys bemusement and weariness very disarmingly, and his minimal shifts of expression are a gift to a director who prizes studied cool above all else.
He's not so much a great actor as a great reactor, waiting and watching as others babble on, registering as little as politeness allows on that imperturbable phiz.The problem is that Jarmusch hasn't quite got the willpower to pull it together as a movie. The film essentially performs the same trick as Lost in Translation, spinning out a middle-aged man's emotional dislocation into an existential mood piece of plaintive looks and ambient music. She plays a "communicator" who talks to distressed household pets "What did he say?" asks Don when the cat stares at him "He says you have a hidden agenda," Lange replies. As for the brittle recluse (Tilda Swinton) now hanging out with bikers, well, he might wish he hadn't bothered showing up.The fact that little is actually happening doesn't seem to trouble Jarmusch, though it should perhaps trouble us. All he can be sure of is that she's married a berk (Christopher McDonald). There's nothing very equivocal about Jessica Lange's reaction to him. Thereafter he experiences something of downturn in warmth, the silences grow longer and the embarrassment sharper.