CD: London Madrigal Singers/London Baccholian Singers: Vaughan Williams and Holst: Choral Folksong Arrangements

It was purely by chance -- or was it? -- that I sat down to write this entry on the 50th anniversary of the death of Ralph Vaughan Williams.

And it's also sheer coincidence that the disc packaging features the image of a decidedly relaxed-looking flock of sheep.

But it was a deliberate decision that brought me to this week's topic -- aided and abetted, I would think, by a surfeit of caffeine and the prospect of late nights spent covering the two conventions. I need these choral works.

Besides, it's the season for the Proms as well, a good time to celebrate British composers. And in addition, between the closing of the Olympics and the opening of the final stretch of campaign season, we're bound to be a bit twitchy.

So put down the remote. Back away from the TV. Stop yelling at the pundits. Turn off the cell phone. Opt for something serene, meditative, merry, or even haunting.

It all starts here, with a pair of composers from the U.K.

Most of you know Ralph Vaughan Williams, of course, at the very least via classical stations' frequent airplay of The Lark Ascending, or perhaps Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis. His friend Gustav Holst too requires no introduction, given the popularity of St. Paul's Suite and of course The Planets.

This time out, however, the orchestra is left behind and the human voice takes over. These choral arrangements, chiefly of traditional British folksongs, feature an exquisite layering of of vocal parts, with particular emphasis on the males' contribution. If the sound isn't quite as dense as what we are used to with, for example, Renaissance ensembles, the effect is still utterly captivating.

Two adult vocal ensembles, the London Madrigal Singers and the London Baccholian Singers, provide these rich and sensitive performances, and if some of the songs are known throughout the English-speaking world -- "Loch Lomond," for instance, and "The Wassail Song" -- there's nothing mannered or hackneyed about the readings.

I'd note too that some of the material, though perhaps less familiar in the U.S., is utterly lovely. Two tunes in particular come to mind, "Just as the Tide Was Flowing" and "The Dark Eyed Sailor," both in exquisite arrangements. Listen to either and you can expect to fall in love.

But it's not all rollicking drinking songs and haunting tales of lovers parted and then reunited (and sometimes not the way you expect). The album also features several thematically distinctive selections from Holst's Eight Canons for Equal Voices, plus one from Choral Hymns from the Rig Veda (!).

DVD: Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day

I'm completely fascinated by movies that involve makeovers, which, I must confess, make for a pretty diverse group. They range from the 1980s drama Jacknife, with a scruffy Robert De Niro memorably transforming for girlfriend Kathy Baker, to Ernst Lubitsch's sexy pre-code The Smiling Lieutenant, in which Claudette Colbert performs an intervention for the demure Miriam Hopkins via "Jazz Up Your Lingerie."

The ritual jazzing up of lingerie is precisely the right activity for viewers of this week's spanking-new DVD, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day.

Miss Pettigrew, for those of you who missed the movie's run earlier this year, is a fizzy, dizzy comedy set in an era when everyone went to the pictures instead of the couch in front of the TV, and ladies concealed their lingerie beneath frocks rather than displaying it for everyone on the Number 70 bus.

Then again, the 1930s weren't really all that innocent, as Miss Pettigrew reminds us with its references to the casting couch, feminine wiles, and the power of a shimmery, curve-hugging evening gown. Mr. Hays, call your office!

The story, which Simon Beaufoy and David Magee adapted from Winifred Watson's 1938 novel, concerns a single amazing 24-hour period in the life of Guinevere Pettigrew, modest, meek, and middle-aged. Yup, that's Frances McDormand—you remember Marge Gunderson from Fargo, hon!—as the hard-luck Miss Pettigrew, a British nanny on the hunt for a job and a square meal. Guile and desperation bring Miss P. to the eye-popping London flat of Delysia LaFosse (Amy Adams), an aspiring actress in search of a social secretary.

Within moments it's no longer entirely clear which of the two women is needier, which is guiding the other, and which more intent on her reinvention. But when Guinevere reveals a talent for improvisation in the face of Delysia's complicated love life and uncertain career, it soon becomes evident that both women are trying on identities like so much clothing and make-up.

Of course we experience the literal makeover, too, when Delysia introduces Guinevere to the glamorous world of beauty maven Edythe Dubarry (Shirley Henderson) and her fiance (Ciaran Hinds), a lingerie designer who sincerely respects women. Henderson, known to a generation of kids as Moaning Myrtle in the Harry Potter movie series, makes great use of her distinctive voice and look playing a character who could glide with ease into the 1939 version of The Women. Meow!

Sweet, ditzy, adorable Amy Adams nearly steals the movie as a woman juggling three lovers—Mark Strong, Tom Payne, and a smoldering Lee Pace—but in the end she shares honors with Frances McDormand, who invests Guinevere Pettigrew with a nice blend of vulnerability and strength. And as for Ciaran Hinds, all I'm going to say is it's a pleasure to see him back on screen, and playing such a mensch too.

Obviously none of this would come off if chemistry, comic timing, and class were lacking here, or if director Bharat Nalluri and his crackerjack team didn't approach the material with such affection. But it all comes together thanks to the terrific script, deft editing, and fabulous sets and costumes. Be sure to reserve time for a viewing with Nalluri's commentary track on, or you might miss the Merchant Ivory-caliber attention to detail that went into the production.

And if you hang on for all the DVD's extras, including two featurettes, you'll discover just how close Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day came to being made in the golden age of Hollywood! And if today's version of Miss Pettigrew wouldn't have escaped the disapproval of Mr. Hays, let alone the Legion of Decency, it's still a comedy with a sound heart.

For doing the right thing never goes out of style.

CDs: Juan Diego Florez: Voce d'Italia: Arias for Rubini and Sentimiento Latino

Whether you agonize over decisions or make them quickly, there remain certain things to which the answer invariably is "Yes. Oh, yes, please." For example:

The Divine—yes, Divine, as in just and delicious—fair trade chocolate at the front counter of Olsson's.

A screening of Mamma Mia! at the Avalon Theatre, which can only leave you with a smile and a head buzzing with ABBA tunes.

And then there's that PBS rebroadcast of the recent headline-making production of Donizetti's La Fille du Regiment, and not just because of the sight of Natalie Dessay in Pippi Longstocking red pigtails and Juan Diego Florez arriving on stage in a tank. The comedy's fine, but it's Florez's voice that left the New York audience cheering. Click on the mp3 file at left here and see if you don't agree with them.

And for those of you who need a visual, click on this to experience Florez singing "Ah! Mes amis" in an earlier production.

At a time when a veritable U.N. Assembly of tenors—Roberto Alagna, Jose Cura, Ben Heppner, Gregory Turay, Rolando Villazon, among others—seems to be turning up on stages around the world, Juan Diego Florez has earned his share of the attention.

This 35-year-old Peruvian tenor has a radiant, pleasing voice that shines in the bel canto repertoire, as is evident on Voce d'Italia: Arias for Rubini, which consists entirely of scenes from Bellini, Donizetti, and Rossini. Don't worry if you don't recognize most of the material, some of which was written for the legendary 19th century tenor Giovanni Battista Rubini, to whom Florez pays tribute. The texts are all included, and so are the thrills, courtesy of Florez's wonderful voice.

The tenor is in a decidedly different mood, though no less passionate, on Sentimiento Latino. He even sits in on the bongos! This material is Latin American popular music and utterly charming. Backed by orchestra and mariachi band, Florez sounds ardent but not overwrought, and if you're wondering how an opera star can be so at home with pop, wonder no more: Ruben Florez, Juan Diego's father, was a folk singer and guitarist.

Yes, chocolate is wonderful—"the favorite food of women," opined a gentleman of my acquaintance. But music answers a few other cravings, and requires the occasional divine voice. I think we've found one.

DVD: All About Eve (2-disc special edition)

You have a point—an idiotic one, but a point. -Addis on DeWitt

Remember great screenplays? Remember character actors? Remember movies for adults?

I'd bet you do. The line for the cineplex forms that way, thank you very much, for anybody who wants to fork over 10 bucks for computer-generated images, explosions, and the studios' minimum weekend requirement of rude humor.

But if you crave on-screen cocktail parties where tough dames and urbane gents trade quips amid a haze of cigarette smoke, and nobody dresses like a slacker, come and sit by me. It's time to channel your inner George Sanders or Thelma Ritter and indulge in the DVD edition of All About Eve.

And what an indulgence it is. This is very nearly the one-stop shop for classic movie buffs: Edith Head costumes, an Alfred Newman score, a screenplay by Joseph Mankiewiecz, and Bette Davis—oddly enough, not the first choice for the role of Margo Channing—leading a memorable cast that includes the aforementioned Ritter and Sanders, plus Anne Baxter, Celeste Holm, and even a very young Marilyn Monroe.

There are lots of extras in this set, too, from audio commentary (including from surviving cast member Celeste Holm) to multiple featurettes to vintage news clips. So whether your interest is geared to personal glimpses or cultural/historical context, you're bound to find satisfaction here.

What a story! Everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end. -Birdie

Confession time: It's a safe bet that I first saw All About Eve at the student union back in the day, though well before that I'd actually caught the musical version, Applause, when it toured Ohio. But it had been a long time since I'd looked at the movie properly.

I had forgotten what nasty fun it all was.

You know the basics: The games begin when Davis, as 40-ish grande dame of the American theater Margo Channing, takes adoring fan Eve (Baxter) into her entourage and very nearly into the midst of a personal and professional crisis. From there on in, you'll need to observe closely to determine who's playing the cards close to the vest, who's laying them on the table, and who's got the poker face to beat everyone—or not. The players in this high-stakes game include Margo's lover, Bill (Gary Merrill); her best friends (Hugh Marlowe and Celeste Holm); and, most memorably, Addison DeWitt (George Sanders), a critic with ice water coursing through his veins and a stream of bons mots issuing from his lips.

Sanders had to have provided Alan Rickman, Charles Dance, and the late Ian Richardson with a lot of inspiration.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that every classic movie fan secretly adores the quotable second bananas that populate the films of the '30s, '40s, and '50s, and Sanders and the always great Thelma Ritter (Birdie) prove it here. But damn, the dialogue in All About Eve is quotable all the way through, from the stars as well as supporting players.

I'll admit I'm more of an early Bette Davis fan—give me Now, Voyager, The Bride Came C.O.D. or even The Man Who Came to Dinner, rather than What Happened to Baby Jane?

But here, in her early 40s, Davis is one tough dame, magnificent to watch, even if the screenplay has her spouting some very pre-Betty Friedan talk about what real women want. The character, of course, recovers nicely for the film's denouement, and of course this two-disc set also includes some interview footage where Davis leaves no doubt about who's really in charge.

All About Eve belongs to another era, yes. But the quest for fame, power, and attention is more relevant than ever in the age of YouTube and inter-demographic clashes.