Avatar...a movie review

He finally catches his flying mate, attaching his braided hair to its mane. He soars down into the vibrant landscape and unites with the animal flyer to solidify the partnership. He flies into the crevices that grace Pandora, the planet. She summons her own flyer and joins him as they sweep through the air. He is a human occupying an avatar--a replica of the species that inhabits the planet. She, a real Na'Vi, who is indigenous to the planet Pandora, cannot contain her excitement, her connection to his joyous flight. Maybe it's the 3-D; maybe it's the colors; maybe it's the story line; or, maybe it's the characters with which we fall in love. This portion of the movie will take away your breath and may even compel tears. If the movie has not impressed you thus far, get ready to be clutched by its grip.

"Avatar" is set in the year 2154, and the story follows many of the same rubric of some of writer/director, James Cameron's other films. Like "Terminator," the future of planet earth is bleak. We humans have destroyed it and are in search of a friendlier atmosphere. Like "Aliens," this atmosphere is on another planet. In "Aliens," the crew on the spaceship is headed to another planet to rescue colonizers who have been taken over by aliens. In "Avatar," the humans are the aliens and they are the ones that threaten the people on the planet, Pandora. Once again, we humans take over another planet in order to colonize it. However, we humans are the parasites, the invading organisms that threaten the people and their way of life.

The plot is not complicated, and "Avatar" moves quickly. Sully is the marine who fills his brother's place aboard the ship to Pandora. We are told little about him, and that is enough. Wounded from some war, Sully is confined to a wheelchair and, because his genetic material and nervous system match his brother's, he is able to match and occupy the avatar built for his twin. An avatar, a being grown to resemble the nine feet tall, blue Na’Vi people who populate Pandora, are hardwired to an individual human, making it possible for humans to venture out into Pandora's atmosphere and live amongst the Na'Vi people.

The humans--who are unable to breathe Pandora's air--lie down in a coffin-like bed and get plugged into their avatar. The humans, then, telepathically occupy their avatar bodies. Sully plugs into his avatar--a match for his nervous system, mind, and movements--and takes off running. For the first time, he has legs that work and freedom in his body. Sully becomes separated from his crew of humans and avatars that are sent into the planet to explore and take land samples. He must meet the Na'Vi people on his own in order to be accepted by them. Cameron leaves many questions unanswered, questions about which I enjoyed contemplating through out the movie. Do the Na'Vi know that avatars exist? Or, do they really think these Na'Vi look-alikes fall from the sky? The avatars distinguish themselves from the original Na'Vi by their English tongue, their dress, and their naivety of the planet. The Na'Vi speak another language. Some of them, however, also speak English, due to the schools set up to colonize the Na'Vi. Ultimately, we never get a clear answer to how the avatars are understood or perceived by the Na'Vi. By the end of the film, you will be able to make your own judgments.

The movie, shot in subtle 3-D, is a masterpiece. Visually, the film is stunning because of the beauty of the Na'Vi--powerful, tall, blue and beautiful. The colors are stimulating. Imagine "The Wizard of Oz” on acid--acid that gives no paranoia but simply comfort and goodness. The creatures we encounter are magical and scary. The flying scenes are absolutely stunning. Yet, nothing about this film is cartoon-like. The Na’Vi people’s faces have real expressions and their bodies are muscular and shapely--men with strong, broad shoulders and women with big breasts and strong legs. They are sensual in their bodies and relish in how they move and swing through the tree branches. The planet, lush with trees and fruits and animals and roots and life, is also connected to this people. So, when the humans aim to rape the planet for a “mineral,” the Na’Vi are dissatisfied, to say the least.

The humans--among them Sully--are soldiers or ex-soldiers looking to be contracted out to complete missions. Mostly, these missions include harvesting the mineral and destroying all in its path. Sigourney Weaver--who is excellent and a pleasure to see again in a Cameron film--leads the team of scientists looking to do research on Pandora and to retrieve flora and fauna samples. Sully is recruited for her team to enter into Pandora through his avatar, but the military men have a different mission for him.

The metaphors scream at the viewer. War: bad or evil? The Na’Vi are any oppressed people taken over by a stronger or entitled planet (read: government). The Na’Vi have features that are ambiguous enough to be characterized as Native American, African, or even Middle Eastern. The Na'Vi are any type of marginalized, alien people whose way of life has been tampered with in some way. And, it is difficult to deny references to the United States' current war situation. Yes, the metaphors are heavy, but they are not played out with a heavy hand. The story fits and makes sense. And, after all of the inferences of this people and that people and this country versus that country, the story is about persons. Persons who live with one another and who grow to love and respect each other. It is also about people who choose not to understand or appreciate others.

I talked to my five year old nephew about this movie, which he loved. I had one main question for him: what do you think about war after seeing this movie? I really do not know how much he even knows about war. I don’t know if he even knows that the US is having a war at all. He answered, “Well, I don’t much think of war.” Good point. Lucky boy. I asked him if he thought war was good or bad. He said that war was bad. I asked why. He said, “because the bad guys don’t even care about the people. They didn’t care about them at all. I thought they [the humans] were going to be the good guys.” I think, deep down, we all think that.

"Roseanne"...an ode to Dan Conner

Dan Conner is hot. He should not lose one pound. He is not fat. He is big and strong and his girth only adds to his sexiness.

Dan is the patriarch of the Conner clan--as in the "Roseanne" clan. He is the type of man we should all long to marry. Sexy. Supportive. Knows his diminuitive worth next to his wife's. Charismatic at the same time.

And, Dan loves his family--including all of Roseanne's crazy relatives, especially the best character to ever grace the television screen, Jackie Harris. (I'll talk about her at a later date.) He has many skeletons in his closet as well--his mentally unstable mother and his father, Ed, who marries Roseanne's friend, Crystal, and has a baby. This background balances out his nurturing and capable side that makes him so appealing as Roseanne's better half.

Dan understands how powerful Roseanne is, but that does not make him any less dynamic than she. In fact, it makes him all the more attractive. He encourages Roseanne's big personality because he understands the weight of his own charisma. It's powerful.

Dan is a provider--from drywall to bikeshops to managing the city buses...some project he was working on with Fred. Whatever he does, he uses his body and his mind. His beautiful body. The way his backside fills a pair of jeans. The way he always turns those jeans towards the camera. I know what you're doing, Dan Conner. I know and I like it.

Catch the re-runs of "Roseanne" whenever you can. I just saw the one where Roseanne throws a wedding for Leon and his boyfriend. Love it.

A Walk In the Clouds...a movie review

A Walk In the Clouds...a movie starring Keanu Reeves

"A Walk In the Clouds" is one of the worst movies ever made. I saw it recently on television and I watched it. Not because I had not watched it before. I had. In fact, I saw it TWICE at the movies. I watched it again because I remember loving it so much.

This is one of those movies that if you loved it when you were younger, you should never watch again because you will feel like a total moron with no taste and ideals so sentimental that you are bound to throw up just from that acknowledgment. I really do not remember how old I was when I first saw it. I would like to say that I was about two and did not know the oven from my mother. No. Not the case. I was a teenager for sure, and I cannot believe I actually bought into the sappy storyline. I can't even believe this movie was allowed to be made. But, I loved it when I was younger, and I choose to remember why.

First off, the scenery is really beautiful in the movie. A vineyard. A big, airy kitchen. A beautiful actress and an even more beautiful actor--Keanu. It was the perfect tone for 15 year olds because Keanu is good-looking but not threatening in his manliness. He longs to raise a family with his wife. He is a war hero. An orphan. He wants stability and children and only wants to make a living to come home to the ones he loves. Hook. Line. Sinker. I was in. In. In. In. I thought to myself, "Yes, Keanu, I want that, too. Just let me kill your wife and I'll sign on the dotted line."

Of course, he--the sweet soldier who sells chocolates...aaahhh!--is on a business trip and runs into a beautiful Mexican-American woman on her way home to her family's vineyard in Napa, on break from her master's program. She is pregnant and needs Keanu to pretend to be the father. He obliges and soon finds that he loves her big, close-knit family, a family he has forever longed for. He, of course, begins to fall in love with Victoria. Oh, the best part is when, after the grape harvest, there is a grape-crushing ceremony. Keanu and Victoria--as the newest newlyweds--are carried into the vat of grapes and smash about with the other married women. It is all very sexy. The image of the two of them running into the bedroom to consummate their love is still burned in my mind. So, why in the world did I not like this movie again?

Because it is sappy and predictable and totally absurd. Keanu manages to assist the father in burning down the prized orchard and the ultimate metaphor is in the lone tree that has survived the burn. Keanu says something like, "Can it be saved?" Of course, the roots are in tact and it can. However, the rebuilding will only take another 50 years. No big deal. Watching this now...all I want to do is strangle that twirp, Keanu. What a dickhead thing to say.

So, if you are over the age of, say 17, do not see this movie. It really isn't even worth seeing Keanu. (If you must see Keanu, see "Point Break." He's even in a bathing suit and a lot more naked than here.) However, for all of the reasons above, I wholeheartedly recommend this movie to girls and some boys ages 9-17. Only they will appreciate the beautiful landscape and the in-your-face moral lessons. They will love it.

Star Girl...a book review

Star Girl by Jerry Spinelli

I want to be Stargirl. Or Pocket Mouse. Or whatever it is she calls herself these days. Stargirl is the optimist's answer to Holden Caulfield. He wanted to be a catcher in the rye. She wanted to drive a truck. When I was young, I wanted to be a walking mail carrier. As you can see, we are totally kindred spirits.

We all wanted to allow creativity to rule our lives. We all wanted jobs that we could sort of tolerate and almost like. I liked the idea of hiking through the mountains, delivering people's hand-written love letters to one another; Stargirl liked the idea of steering her truck, delivering goods to the people who most deserved them.

I did not read Star Girl when I was in middle school even though it could be classified as a young adult novel. I listened to it on audio tape in the car. It was read by the late John Ritter and I listened to it while visiting my sister. Whenever we would get in the car, we would turn on Star Girl. It captivated both of us. We laughed at it together. We sighed in unison. As an adult, I had never read a novel with another person at the exact same time. Remember how in elementary school the teacher would begin a chapter book and every day you would look forward to sitting on the carpet after lunch just to listen? It was settling and comforting to have someone read to you. And, we all listened together and there was no race to finish because there was no other option than to go through the exercise of absorbing the book together. Anyway, that's how I read Star Girl. In the front seat of a car with my sister at my side. We both loved Stargirl and Leo. And John Ritter's voice kind of completed the satisfaction I felt.

Stargirl spent most of her years being home-schooled and when she enters a public high school, the kids do not know what to make of her. She often dresses as a clown and plays the ukulele, often serenading classmates in the cafeteria. She is not cool by the conventional standard because--though she most likely understands social constructs better than the pupils who actually follow such standards--she chooses to bypass them for her own way of living. For example, Stargirl becomes a cheerleader for the school. She takes this responsibility further than the field, however, when she begins to cheer for everyone at every opportunity. Go big or go home, right? Well, she does.

Stargirl is smart and proves herself academically. She also expresses herself through risky fashion just to embellish her own existence. Fashion risks? Smarts? Is that why my sister and I loved her so? Maybe. But, I think the most appealing quality was that she really made no excuses for herself. That made Leo take notice and admit to liking her. And, we the readers could also take notice and collectively appreciate this bright, individualistic girl. And, in return, we could appreciate that repressed part of ourselves that we are too afraid to let others see.

Read this book and you will understand why I am holding my breath, waiting by the mailbox for my own set of candid photographs taken by a stranger from afar when I was carelessly playing in my sandbox as a five-year-old. And, I'm waiting for my own version of a porcupine necktie. Stargirl, are you still out there?

The Thorn Birds...a reviewed analysis

The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCullough

Who has not read this book or heard of this book or caught glimpses of the movie on Turner Classic Movies or perhaps even on Lifetime? We all know the story or, at least, the lustiest, naughtiest part of the story--Father Ralph falls in love with Meggie not as a young woman, but as a young girl.

I will not tear apart the story and make all of the pseudo-psychological inferences that have been dissected dozens of times before. Instead, I want to talk about why everyone either knows or loves this book. And, let's be honest, if you've read the book, it has somehow gotten inside yourself. It has taken residence, for better or worse, and it is now a part of you. I have read The Thorn Birds probably four times in my life (and I am in my twenties). I am not going to read it again any time soon. Instead, I am musing on how this book has become so much a part of me. It is ingrained in me and this review of sorts is not really a review of a book's plot. Rather, it is more of a remembrance and an exploration of its importance to someone who is in her twenties and who never really bought into romance, yet was inevitably sucked into the drama, the religious overtones, the sex, the beauty of ugly marriages and the desirability of uglier romances.

I remember playing Barbies on the floor of my bedroom and listening to my oldest sister and mother talk about how tragic it was when Meggie's mother cut off her curls and poured something like turpentine on her scalp to kill the last of the lice. I was about seven years old and thought that was so sad. I also thought that I had to read that book. I wanted to read that scene, but, more importantly, I wanted in on that conversation. A conversation of literary context. My mother and sister were not talking about television characters or family friends. They were talking about literary characters and I was intrigued that many people (i.e. readers) could intimately know people (book characters) on such a deep level. My mom was talking about Meggie's embarrassment, about her family, about the inner workings of her mind. I remember feeling jealous that they knew this person--and that millions of readers also experienced such intimacy with someone.

My seven-year-old self first became aware of The Thorn Birds and I always had the gist of the story in the back of my mind. I even remember my sister watching it on television. Ralph was not handsome to me and Meggie's hair was almost brown, not the red I had envisioned. Well, when I was about 11 I read the book for the first time. I loved it. I wanted to look exactly like Meggie. I remember that McCullough described her with beautiful red ringlets. Her breasts were small and firm from riding horses on the paddocks. She went to the dance with a dress the color of "Ashes of Roses." I had no idea what that meant, but I imagined a grey-ish satin dress with rose stains all over it. At that dance, Meggie had her first sexual experience. It was painful, as I recall. Since I imagined being Meggie, I, too, had my first sexual experience along with her. Later, when Meggie marries this man, she continues to have sex with him and her body tenses to save the sperm inside of her so that she can get pregnant without her husband's knowledge or consent. My body tensed right along with hers. Her husband was mean, yes, but he was manly and muscular and hot.

I cannot help but think that Meggie's first sex and the actions of her husband set me up for a life of desiring that sort of man. Not very nice, but sexual and good-looking. I was attracted to him, to that character. I wish I could say that I knew he was no good. But, Meggie loved him (or, she at least settled for him) and I identified with Meggie. I identified with her because she was the heroine, because she was beautiful (and I wanted to be), because she was alone, the only sensitive girl on a farm full of men (and don't all 11 year old girls feel that way to an extent?) Are we women really tainted or taught by our own parents' dysfunctional relationship or do we seek out a relationship to emulate. Maybe, t.v. and movies have been given too much credit. After all, most parents do not even realize what books their daughters are reading at night in bed before the light goes off. Well, as you know, Meggie does not stay with this sugar cane cutter. Of course, she gets it on with the priest.

I know that my first sex through Meggie kept me in love with The Thorn Birds. I mean, you never forget your first time, right? Even later when I read the book again and again and again, that lust is what always brought me back. And, Father Ralph, even with his beauty and regal being, was maybe even more unsatisfying to me, even if I could not articulate such contempt when I was 18 or 19, reading the book again. He kept Meggie at bay, could not love her the way a woman deserves to be loved. Now, I am afraid that these men made me believe I was not worth their love. I was not worth committing to. I know what you're thinking. I am putting too much into a story, a book. None of these people are real and I was impressionable. Yes, I reply. Yes to all of it. Even though I have not re-read this book in a few years, I am concerned that all of my focus was on imagining myself as Meggie and living my romantic life vicariously through her.

I know that even though I currently find these unavailable, keep-me-guessing men most attractive, I do have one consolation: Justine. Justine is Meggie's first-born. She makes a life for herself as an actress. She likes a rich life and participates in the drama by her own volition. She dutifully writes home--decadent letters she sends full of gossip and scandal and love of life. Justine longs for that in return from her family. She longs to receive lush letters, but all she ever gets are mundane updates of life. I remember liking her, liking that she pries her family for more and that they never deliver. Justine does not stifle her reports of life. She just hopes her family will reciprocate. Justine, by the end of the novel, is dating someone. Someone good and loving and in love with her. In my mature years (compared to 11), I may start to idolize Justine. She probably has full sex with a committed partner.

A priest too stuck on religion to regularly get it up for a woman? A sugar cane cutter who would rather sweat in the fields than be with his wife? Or, a man who loves Justine, a woman I relate to more and more as the years go by? I'll take that last one. Maybe, there's hope for me yet.

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