images move me

Melancholia

2012-01-08T09:35:00.000-08:00

Melancholia is getting all kinds of accolades and being heralded as the best film of 2011. This makes me feel justified for liking this movie. It also makes me feel like a pretentious art follower for finding self-justification of my own likes from the opinions of others. In any case, I urge you to trust the trusted movie critics and go ahead and see this movie.

I don't know if it's classified as the plot or the theme, but the magnet or pull of the movie is that a planet is headed toward earth. Our lives are in jeopardy because slowly but surely, the planet will barrel into the side of the earth, causing a destruction the dinosaurs would have envied. So, that is what will happen, but that is not what is happening in the movie. Or in life. We are all headed for destruction, one way or another. However, if we focus on the demise, life becomes not worth living. Or, for some unlikely optimists, the inevitable destruction seems to make life sweeter and worth living.

Much like The Tree of Life juxtaposes mundane life moments with catastrophic events (such as the Big Bang), Melancholia puts a festive new beginning, a wedding, against the backdrop of the impending end of the world. The movie splits itself into two parts--the wedding weekend reception and the aftermath. I knew that the planet was gaining speed on the earth's destruction, but while the reception was happening, I was involved in that production. I guess that's what makes Melancholia such a brave film for me. I got the message--loud and clear--that the celebration of a new beginning and even the emotional effects of life count for something even when we know they will not last.

And what a wedding reception it was! Kirsten Dunst (Justine) is the bride. She looked ethereal, as a newlywed is supposed to look. And, we learn that the earth's imminent demise is mirrored by Justine's crippling depression. She treads through the charade of the reception--her own celebration--much like a soldier hoofing through mud fields. I've been to a few weddings in my day, and one of the most disappointing aspects of them is that the festivities seem to be rushed in order to hurry to transform the reception hall into a club with disc jockeys spinning the top 40 hits from the radio. Bridal party enters: check! Toasts completed: check! Cake cut: check! First dance: check! Then, the dance floor turns into a discotheque and the ambiance is lost. I forget that it's a wedding at all. In this movie, the reception is drawn out and savored. It lasts for hours, well into the night, when more champagne expectantly flows and more food is offered to the guests. Toasts come in stages and dancing fits into the creases for the festivities. It was beautifully lit. And, more beautiful, still, was how Justine attempted to fit into this mold of bride and woman and normal. It's not always easy to do that.

The reception trudges on and then we are introduced to the more immediate realizations regarding the end of the world. You can hide in a corner and shield yourself from the destruction or you can witness the death. The end of the world sure emits pretty fireworks. You would be a fool to shut your eyes.

Just Go With It

2011-11-09T08:31:00.000-08:00

I turned on Just Go With It after a long day. I didn't really know what it was about, and I decided to just follow the title's direction. I know that, by admitting this, I have no taste and no credibility, but, I liked this movie. (You know what they say; the faster you lose any semblance of a reputation, the faster you can relax.) It stars Jennifer Aniston and Adam Sandler. I don't generally like Sandler. Like, I would never gravitate toward his movies. Jennifer, on the other hand, is different.

I admit to liking a certain something something that Jennifer seems to have in movies. I had a suspicion that she wasn't as lame as she comes across in interviews. Then, I saw her on that show, Inside the Actors Studio. I found out that she's actually kind of hip. She had a painting in the Met when she was a kid; she used to dye her hair nonhuman colors; she cites her dog as being the only loyal man in existence. How could I not be into this woman?

Just Go With It is about a man who pretends he's married to get women or something like that. The point is clearly not the plot. The point is that Jennifer and Adam have some chemistry. They come together for a plan to foil Adam's new girlfriend. The thing I like about the plan and the plot is that it's not too intense. They go to a beach. They make up character names. The stakes are not so high for any of the hi jinx that my blood pressure soared. The pacing is predictable and if you can't figure out the ending within the first 15 minutes of the movie, then you may actually love this movie. Except, you won't. With this type of movie, the key is predictability because that is safe and warm and all that is good. I wish I could wrap myself up in a big down comforter that is this movie.

I laughed out loud. Loudly. A lot. Let yourself just go with it. There are also some unexpected cameos. Well, they're more than just cameos. They're full-blown roles. I won't tell you, who, though. I mean, this movie has got to have some mystery--besides the fact that it's so simple and tart that it's actually good.

Pearl Jam Twenty

2011-09-28T18:15:00.000-07:00

My brother is nine years older than I. Maybe, it was because he just liked me, or maybe it was because I was the baby. I don't know why he would sometimes take me to the movies with him when I was little. When I was about ten years old, he took me to see a re-release of 101 Dalmatians at the movies. After, he made me sneak in to see The Naked Gun: 2 and 1/2. I was so panicked about sneaking into the movie that I made my brother leave with me. I have to admit that sneaking in was a rush.

It was kind of fitting, then, that it took twenty years for my brother and I to go anywhere just with each other to see a movie about a band that managed to stay together for twenty years. Going to the movies with my brother after twenty years of never doing so--meaning there was no family or friends to cushion the company--made me think about how much a band like Pearl Jam must have really decided to stick by and with each other through life. That kind of commitment is not always easy.

Pearl Jam Twenty is written and directed by Cameron Crowe. (You may remember that he put Eddie Vedder as a cameo in his love story to Seattle movie, called Singles.) Crowe reminds the audience that he used to be a rock writer, and, frankly, the movie unfolds like The Rolling Stone Interview. Have you read the featured interview lately in The Rolling Stone? The interviewers must give their subjects truth serum because I've never read any other interviews like the Feature. The subjects reveal so much about themselves that they--most of the time--end up looking kind of like jerks. PJ20 is comprised of clips of rarely-seen or never-before-seen footage of the members of Pearl Jam. Crowe reveals it all, too. He really holds nothing back--even interviews where Eddie can be a little volatile toward the camera.

The members (and friends) of Pearl Jam have something going for them that most of the subjects of The Rolling Stone Interview only wish they had: they are good. They are all good, decent, nice, artistic guys that love what they do and love who they do it with. Really, we should all be so lucky. These guys--after all the stardom, boycotting of Ticketmaster, and the political agendas--are really deserving of the peace and happiness that comes with playing in a band and being proud of the work they achieve.

Just to be clear, I have loved Eddie Vedder from the moment I heard "Better Man." (Of course, it's a bit disconcerting that Ed and I are the same height--5'7"1/2--and that he dates and marries models. But, when you write, sing, perform, and look like him, I tend to forgive a lot.) A nice surprise in PJ20 was the opportunity to learn about the other band members. They are just as devoted to art and in love with fans and performing and each other as Eddie. Also, it is just incredibly refreshing to learn about a really successful band that has not had issues with drugs and alcohol.

PJ20 was shown in theaters in limited release, and most of the audience members were die-hard Pearl Jam fans. It is a bit long at times, especially with the recent interviews. But, it was definitely interesting to see clips of songs being written. And, the concert footage gave me goosebumps. Sometimes, a band or a rock star comes along, and I understand what all the fuss is about. Eddie and the rest of Pearl Jam really do hold a certain charm that is simply innate and stunning. The audience ended up clapping at the end. I liked the movie; my brother liked the movie. I just didn't want to clap. Somehow, doing so felt inauthentic. After spending a couple of hours with a band like Pearl Jam, I just had to be myself.

Crazy, Stupid Love

2011-09-15T09:30:00.001-07:00

I really think there is something seriously wrong with me when I (albeit begrudgingly) nudge you to go spend ten bucks on a movie just to see someone take his shirt off. You won't even see him do the deed. Wait, let me explain. See, I've only done it ONE TIME with a man who had a seriously good body. He was perfect (and, yes, I am accounting for my memory to make him so even if he wasn't in real life). He was thin, but not lanky. He was lean and muscled and proportioned correctly. I don't think I'm explaining properly. Listen, he was Brad-Pitt-in-A-River-Runs-Through-It beautiful. He worked out or he had good genes or he had recently sold his soul to the devil. I don't know, and I really didn't care. I had him, and before that, I never understood that a good body makes so much of a difference. It stimulates the senses in a way that a great mind with an okay body just fails to do. I didn't know how statistically improbable it is for a person to have the opportunity to get with a physically objectively beautiful man until I hit the jackpot that one time. So, even though Crazy, Stupid Love just turned out to be stupid, it's kind of worth it (a rental!) to be able to see Ryan Gosling and his hot body. You just don't know if you'll ever see that kind of scene in the flesh.

This summer, I saw Crazy, Stupid Love with a couple of other adults and a few fourteen year olds. I don't think I've been to a movie theater with a teenager since I was one. I don't mean to wax nostalgic here, but when I was a kid, we had no cell phones and no texting and no glowing phones. These girls with whom I went to the movies relentlessly texted and talked to one another. You might think, then, that I was so bothered by this behavior that my annoyed state rubbed off on my opinion of the movie. I honestly had no ill will toward Crazy, Stupid Love before I began watching. However, it turned out to be a disappointing movie about my favorite (and totally universal, always incorporated) theme: relationships--and, more specifically, divorce.

I love movies about divorce. And, no, it's not because my parents divorced. (Believe me; we're all better off for that little lawsuit.) Divorce movies are good because they are usually the most honest depictions of relationships. Irreconcilable Differences and The Kids Are All Right are two of my favorite divorce-themed movies. But, they're not really about divorce at all. They're about the complexities of relationships. The problem I had with CSL is that right from the start the audience (and the characters) learn that a divorce is imminent, and the characters jump ship right away. That's not real. That's not realistic. That's not how people operate. We're left with having to watch Steve Carell manipulate woman after woman into bed. (And, by the way, I was not expecting Marisa Tomei to have such a goofy part. I really wish more meaty parts could be written for middle-aged women. Here's my PSI: go see Rosanna Arquette's documentary, Searching for Debra Winger. You won't really get any answers or satisfying reasons why there aren't many good movies featuring good older actresses, but it's nice to see Martha Plimpton and, of course, Debra Winger.)

Oh, and you know my man, Ryan Gosling? Well, he plays another character where a man is a womanizer without a heart until he meets the Right Girl. This woman changes everything in his life for him. His perspective has changed; his priorities have shifted. Maybe, that scenario is true in some instances, but I think it's dangerous for women to be prompted to think that they have the power or influence to actually change how a man behaves. And, also, I hate that whole idea of a woman claiming success by changing a man's ways. Basically, I don't really buy that men change due to an influence of a woman, and I'm tired of feeling like I should be shamed or exhaulted for not changing a man's behavior or changing a man's behavior. If a man hasn't worked on his own stuff, then it doesn't matter if a woman is the greatest human on the planet; no one can change someone who doesn't want to change. So, I just wish that movies would not manipulating the public into believing otherwise.

The Fabulous Baker Boys

2011-06-24T18:44:00.000-07:00

I'm in. I get it. Basically, piano players are sexy. We all know that. So, Jeff Bridges is already half-way there in The Fabulous Baker Boys just because he can play. Or, his stunt double can. Whatever. He's got me. Of course, there's more to his role. He is so sexy and tortured to me that I don't want to be WITH him; I actually want to BE him. I've been thinking that lately; for the first time in my life, I actually think that certain boys are so sexy that I want to inhabit their skin.

That's never happened to me before. Normally, I would be attempting to connect with Michelle Pfeiffer--who, by the way, is really sexy and beautiful in this movie, even with her tacky clothes and jewelry. Pfeiffer plays the lounge singer that the Baker brothers hire. (Jeff and Beau Bridges are real brothers who play piano-playing brothers in the movie.) Even with the big, gaudy earrings and tight, little dresses, she is still hot. But, she's kind of butch--not like a butch dyke, exactly. She's just butch in general. It's like these characters are gender-neutral in that they are not exactly playing into typical woman/man gender norms. This, of course, is juxtaposed with the aesthetic of both of the actors. Michelle Pfeiffer has delicate features that are traditionally feminine-attractive--porcelain skin, tight body, long, blonde hair, full lips, and a perfect (surgically-altered) nose. Jeff Bridges has the masculine attributes--tall, chiseled jaw, stringy hair, and lanky in that he doesn't exercise but drinks and smokes his calories sort of way.

This time around, I'm not putting myself in the woman's shoes so that I can somehow connect with the man. It's strange because there's really nothing about this movie that outwardly hints at gender-bending. Bridges and Pfeiffer both play their roles as people. She's not a woman in her thirties desperate to marry. He's not a man getting over his wild days of dating cocktail waitresses. They're just people. They're trying to make a living making music. They're trying to embrace love with another person. They're just trying to somehow stay true to themselves. So, with all of this human emotion out there, I'm not surprised I want to crawl into Jeff Bridges' skin. But, if it makes you feel better for me to say it, I will: I would also crawl into his bed. I have to add, though, that I may want to wear a strap-on just for effect.

The Tree of Life

2011-06-23T17:01:00.000-07:00

The first time I was exposed to the idea of "grace" was when I briefly lived in Northeast Iowa. There were a lot of Lutherans, and the subject of grace was so prevalent in the area over there that it was even discussed on snowy nights in a corner booth of a low-lit bar. Grace. A Preacher's Kid (PK)--meaning that a PK held a special social status, another idea I had never before contemplated--suggested that grace meant a sort of life trajectory inspired by the divine or, at the very least, a nod to the importance of a spiritual path or presence. Maybe, that's not even right; I was, after all, drunk most of the time I was living in Iowa. You would be, too--especially in the winter.

The movie, The Tree of Life, opens with a voiceover discussing the differences between a natural life and a spiritual one. The directions are separate and parallel. They cannot interject or overlap. This co-existence in different spheres makes it even more difficult to receive a satisfying answer about the state of the universe. And, the state of the universe encompasses all living beings, all facets of the planet earth, all stages of life. Included, and not less or more significant, are human emotions. I suspect that the writer/director was attempting to tie the states together because life trajectories do not run parallel to one another; they inherently intersect.

The Tree of Life is beautifully shot. The images are both out of National Geographic Magazine and each human's recollection of his or her respective childhood. The story of the family is set in the 1950s. But, the emotions evoked from the boys or the mother or the father could be taken out of anyone's own memory. The story is not sequential, but that's okay because we don't remember events in their correct order. We remember events in the order of their significance to the individual remembering. We only need to make sense of the emotional impact of events and feelings. The sequence is really secondary.

The movie is peppered with narrative musings and (maybe forever) unanswered questions. When it was all over, I felt both reserved and connected. We are all alone, after all. But, the loneliness is maybe bearable if we realize that our feelings are not only universal, but influenced by the universe.

every night

2011-06-16T23:00:00.001-07:00

I think about you all the time. I think about what to write to you. I think about interesting things I've seen and done that I can report and recount. And yet it's been months since I've written and I can't even write an entry, just a bulleted list. Maybe that's good enough, for now.

Moved

1. This Radiolab episode about Lucy, the chimp effectively raised as a human. I listened to it last month and couldn't fall asleep. I just sat in bed and thought about Lucy...about human folly. About consciousness.

2. Gillian Welch -- Revelator. There's no one better and I don't care if she sings about Georgia and was raised in Santa Cruz. I listen to this song on repeat.

3. Summer Heights High . There is whimsy and sadness that exists in Jonah Takalua that is so so perfectly rendered.

Crazy Heart

2011-02-20T18:55:00.000-08:00

After finally seeing Crazy Heart, I am certain that Jeff Bridges deserved every award he won for that movie. He even could have had me as a trophy--even though an Oscar is way more discriminating than I am--because Jeff Bridges is one sexy beast.

Crazy Heart could have gone down a common path. It could have followed the road about the hard-living country singer whose protege turns on him. Crazy Heart is smarter than that. Instead, the movie centers on Bad Blake (Jeff Bridges), who is Tommy Sweet's mentor (played by Colin Farrell in a surprisingly understated performance). Tommy wants to see Bad succeed, but it's hard to support a friend and mentor who hits the bottle too hard to stay on track and who refuses to write more songs, even though the songwriting is the most lucrative part about Bad's career.

Bad Blake is a guy who used to be a star; now he plays bowling alleys. Bad behaves how he believes country artists should behave. He knows you've got to have a signature liquor and a womanizer reputation. That lifestyle is how good songs are sung. More importantly, that's how good songs are written. Bad's charm on-stage and off is what ultimately aids Bad in bedding the local reporter, played by Maggie Gylenhaal. With that romance comes the best line I've ever heard on stage or off. Bad tells her, "I want to talk about how bad you're making this room look." That's a poet's line, and that's what Bad is.

Because of this raw performance by Jeff Bridges, I began to understand how heartbreaking authentic country music can be when it's performed by honest singer/songwriters. They are the ones confronting life. Sometimes, a hard life feels worth it; sometimes, the song is that good.

Lady in the Water

2011-02-16T07:51:00.000-08:00

Some stereotypical characters plus a lovable Paul Giamatti as the lead.

What I like about this movie is one or two of its messages. One is that --- it is a profound thing to realize (discover) your purpose in life. Another is that -- someone can write a book, "sow the seeds of change," and inspire someone of a later generation, who will lead a revolution that is to change the course of humanity.

Visually, the film is not beautiful, but perhaps has its own low-budget aesthetic. Some scenes are funny, others are tiresome (e.g. the scene in which the film critic makes meta-predictions of what will happen next). I wish that the movie could have developed the sea people and their world, rather than just giving us one person (well, water nymph) - Story - to represent those beings who have always existed alongside humans on Earth. It is a good idea to use the existence/history of another kingdom to shed light on the character and history of our own. Nice attempt but could have been better. B+

500 More Days of Summer

2011-02-15T12:53:00.000-08:00

I already wrote about this movie, but after watching 500 Days of Summer again, I feel like I finally understand the message. Maybe, it's because I'm no longer wallowing in the angst of (unrequited) love, and, consequently, my vision in this arena is a lot less blurry. Yes, the tone of the movie is still artsy, the scene structure is still crisp, and the clothing styles are still pleasing to me. Now, though, I see this movie as a raw exploration of the deterioration of one's self-worth when one gives himself unconditionally over to the object of his affection. It is a dangerous amount of power to hand over to another person--ultimately one's self-worth and self-possession. But, that seems to be what we do when we surrender our hearts. We are such fools.

What are we supposed to do with this gnawing emotion that we've branded as love? Now, I'm not talking about the healthy kind of love--with all of that mutual admiration and supportive bullshit. No, I'm talking about the down and dirty kind of love--the kind that rips your heart out and pounds the shit out of it. That is the kind of love that Tom experiences in the movie, 500 Days of Summer. What this type of love amounts to is the inevitable self-loathing. Love is a slap in the face as we're looking into the mirror. It tells the truth about us. When we are rejected by a person we have decided to revere and admire, the truth of ourselves is that we are loathsome and lonely and annoying.

Tom falls hard for Summer. And, why not? She's cute enough and she is aloof enough to have guys at her knees. I don't think we are necessarily meant to like Summer. I think that, instead, we are supposed to understand how Tom can begin to loathe himself just by her rejecting him. It's not an all-out assault by Summer. She rejects him with subtlety, and Tom quietly catalogues all of the rejections. Since Summer doesn't laugh at his joke, does that mean he is not funny? Since Summer does not want to label Tom as her boyfriend, does that mean no one ever will? If he thinks that she is the best thing in his life, and she denies him, does that mean all of Tom's talents are really tics?

I certainly do not know the answer to these questions. Could be yes; could be no. The point is that Tom believes in a certain answer, and that is the most tragic answer. Once we give our hearts away, and they break (always, inevitably), the only way to get them back is to allow the organ to regenerate over time. The scar tissue that results is ugly and thick. It takes a lot to penetrate it.

Punch drunk love

2011-01-31T10:52:00.000-08:00

From Aileen (who does not have access to blogger but who will email her reviews):

Hi readers. hihihihi. I've been away for a long time, but now i'm back. A friend of mine lent me 30 dvds. I will try to watch and review two movies a day for the next two weeks.

punch drunk love

I haven't watched a comedy in a long time. Not sure if Punch Drunk Love is a comedy, but it made me laugh - really laugh - maybe once every 5 to 10 minutes. It's about a guy with a lot of (understandably) repressed anger. When he lets it out, we feel good for him, but also a bit nervous, because this guy always seems to run into trouble, mostly because other people don't understand him. The dialogue and the shots are consistently surprising (which produces emotions, if predictability dulls the senses). Adam Sandler and Emma Watson are very sweet in this movie.

Next up will be There Will Be Blood - by the same director, Paul Thomas Anderson. Also, Dogville - because Emma Watson was also in Breaking the Waves directed by Lars Von Trier, who directed Dogville.

-Aileen

i've fought it for long enough

2010-12-25T14:10:00.000-08:00

I fought it for a long time, this whole Ellen Page craze. You're probably thinking--What Ellen Page craze? Well, semantics aside, I've fought Ellen Page. Too contrived, I thought. Too hip, I intoned. She's a one trick pony! She has no range!

I was wrong and I'm not afraid to admit it. (Cuz no one reads this blog and I'm writing under an assumed name.) She's great. I wanna go get french fries with her and gossip about pop culture.

It's Christmas morning and I just finished watching "Whip It." To be fair, I watched the last third of it but I could tell what was going on based on the falling action. The denouement is where it's at. It was so good. Drew Barrymore directed and Ellen Page starred. It's fairly predictable, but a pleasure to watch anyways. Small town Texas girl discovers roller derby in big, liberal Austin. Becomes part of scene. Parents don't know about it. In the end she must choose between a pageant and the roller derby championship game. I could've described the movie in about 30 fewer words. This is no knock on the film; I think many great stories are really really simple and formulaic. When the form is set the substance can get juicy. Marcia Gay Harden is good as the well intentioned pageant mom and Daniel Stern plays his role of supportive father well. But this is a movie that knows its audience and the audience knows that the real action between a teenage girl and her parents is really all about the mom/daughter relationship. When you're sixteen your mom's opinion means so much to you but you cloak that importance in this robe of indifference. It's a weird tension and I think that Barrymore captures it quite well. All you want is her approval but at the same time you don't care at all just not one bit what your mother thinks. This is the life of a teenage girl. Page and Harden have a good dynamic. There's one scene that is especially good. It's when solipsistic Page realizes that her mother is a person. You know, she had a life before her daughter was born, she has thoughts that resonate outside of the home. It's good.

The love story is not the central focus of the film. She likes a boy, she gives herself to boy. Boy acts like, well, boy. She decides she doesn't want boy. I think teenage girls need to be shown more movies like this. It reminds me of one scene in Roseanne (best show ever, please see past entries) when David, Darlene's boyfriend is pressuring her to have sex. They're in high school and David is horny and impatient. Darlene says something to the effect of : "We'll have sex when I'm ready so until then cool it." I squealed when I heard this. I know not all girls are in the position to say these things. There are pressures to have sex. Girls feel ready at different times. Girls can be the aggressors. I know I know. But it's important to have these characters in mainstream media who assert themselves without shame or artifice. There's not really an equivalent scene in Freaks and Geeks but I like Lindsay Weir so I put her up there.

So, I had a point. My point is that I like Ellen Page. "Whip It" was fun to watch. Kick ass teenage girls are important to my emotional well being.

Untamed Heart

2010-12-11T09:17:00.000-08:00

At the end of the movie, Stand By Me (made from Stephen King's short story, The Body), the writer writes on his computer screen something like, "I never again had friends like I did when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?" Well, that's sometimes how I feel about movies. The movies I saw between the ages of 11 and, say, 14 were (and remain) the most profound of my life. I guess it's because I was asserting my real identity that was some-what independent of the role my family had given me. My favorite movies at that time always had a female lead character in her twenties. And, inevitably, I identified with her. Like, I WAS her. It sounds like my ego was gigantic, but, really, I was just looking for someone with whom to identify as I was coming into my own.

That age was really lonely for me because my parents were divorcing and, really, my whole life was changing. I had no control over it. Looking back, I held tight to some principles (such as women's rights and pro-protest, Joan Baez music). I thought that by latching on to a movement or a cause, I could feel a part of something while giving myself an identity that seemed to be slowly slipping away. Well, one of those characters that I really loved was Caroline from Untamed Heart.

Marisa Tomei played Caroline, a waitress/beauty school student, in winter-time Minnesota. She was in her twenties and lived at home with her mom and step-dad. Her family used to buy a real Christmas tree every year. They stopped doing that. Caroline and I were so much alike--both female, both living in snowy places, both living with our divorced moms, both uncomfortable with all the change in our lives, both not knowing how to go forward, but both coasting okay. Yes, Caroline was a cigarette-smoking waitress who could barely afford a car, and I was a 12 year old who swam two hours per day just to calm her racing, sad mind. But, I understood her. I understood that she was a person just trying to find her way in this world that kept on disappointing her.

I know. I know. I'm not talking anything at all about the plot. Sometimes, one performance really makes a movie, and the rest is just filler. Well, she meets Christian Slater. I guess he represents a sort of fragility that was lacking in Caroline's world. She responds to his goodness. She loves him; he loves her. He teaches her that she does deserve such care and love. It was a nice lesson--a lesson a 12 year old girl really appreciates, especially when the world seemed kind of cruel to her.

Beautiful Girls

2010-11-22T10:48:00.000-08:00

No. No. Just no. This movie is so awful. I feel so betrayed because I've gone through most of my life believing that I liked this movie. I watched it a long time ago. I thought it was good, maybe a little boundary pushing. Maybe I put myself in Natalie Portman's shoes--precocious, bad haircut. But this movie SUCKS.
It's not even gonna be a movie review. Just bullet points. This movie does not even deserve sentences. Only fragments.
- Martha Plimpton is one of the only good things about this movie. She's not on the cover. Of course.
- It's really creepy to normalize a 28 y/o guy lusting after a 13 year old.
- Every line coming out of Natalie Portman's mouth makes me want to vomit. She can't handle those lines. No thirteen year old could handle that witty, flirty banter.
- Just another movie worshiping at the altar of almost 30 something men cheating, hedging and ignoring their gorgeous girlfriends and wives. Suck it. Just suck it.
- Uma Thurman says all it takes for her to be happy with a man is four little words: "Good night, sweet girl." Wait--what? Really?! So your boyfriend could cheat on you, fart under the covers, not take out the trash then whisper "good night, sweet girl" and you'd be HAPPY?! If I sound like I am panting and screaming it's cuz I am. That is just so ridiculous. Ludicrous. Here's what I want in a relationship: Respect. Reciprocity. Mutual adoration. Intelligent conversations. Steamy s**. Good night, sweet girl. GAH.

Vision Quest

2010-11-10T14:24:00.000-08:00

I know what you're thinking, and you're right. Vision Quest is, like, 25 years old. I'm stuck in a time warp--in a time I was really too young to even appreciate. You're right. You're right about all of that. But, I cannot control which movies were relentlessly on t.v. when I was growing up, or which movies my sisters and brother loved. I was the youngest, the ghost in the room. No one remembered I was there, so no one could tell me to not watch an R-rated moved at age five or to go to bed before 10 p.m. And, oh, did I use it. I am not claiming that I wasn't loved--far from it. But, I was sort of invisible when it came to television/movie censorship and designated bedtimes. It's okay; you can be jealous. Oh, and don't think I didn't know how odd this all was. I had to always pretend to my fellow first graders that I had no idea what Coming To America was (you know...starring Eddie Murphy and a whole bunch of curse words and sexual innuendos). Freddie Krueger movies? Please. Piece of cake. So, anyway, I couldn't control what movies affected me as a child or what movies still keep a hold on me. All I know is that I love (still! To this day!) Vision Quest.

Matthew Modine (Louden) is young and cute and completely in his prime. He is a high school wrestler who is determined to go down a weight class in order to wrestle someone on a rival team: Shute. He has to drop weight, and go from something like 190 to 170. When I was a little kid, I didn't really understand what that meant. Now I know: that's a lot of weight, especially because Louden's pretty tall. What I did understand, however, was that it took a ton of discipline to lose all of that. So, Louden goes on a sort of Vision Quest to wrestle the undefeated Shute. And, in the midst of all of that, he meets a traveler, the gorgeous Linda Fiorentino, who ends up boarding at Louden and his dad's house for a bit. She's hot. He's hot. They get it on. That little love story is not the best thing about this movie. What has made the movie good then, and what makes it hold up now is the palpability of Louden's raw determination.

Louden has to lose weight. He is obsessed with it. He cuts way back on calories. He jogs in a sort of rubber suit. He exercises at every moment he can. He climbs the cork board at wrestling practice, which is one of THE best scenes in film history. But, he's also a hemophiliac, which makes him kind of fragile. Believe me, you root for him a little when he breaks his diet one time and stuffs a doughnut into his mouth. You cheer him because it makes him human and it reminds you of all of his self-inflicted sacrifices. It's so hard to be a human who wants to feel, and who chooses deprivation as the most physical manifestation of such a thing as wrestling the best (and fulfilling a vision quest).

Hannah and Her Sisters

2010-10-20T12:09:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I think about moving to New York City. Well, I don't think about moving there; I think about living there. Like, really living. Being in it. Having my family there. My friend(s). Wearing great vintage clothes. Shopping at hole-in-the-wall bookstores where gems are found. Auditioning for Broadway plays. Having holiday dinners with a piano in the corner and my drunk parents playing to the crowd. Basically, I want to live not only in NYC, but also inside the movie, Hannah and Her Sisters.

Hannah and Her Sisters is my favorite Woody Allen movie. The characters live in upscale Manhattan. They wear post-Annie Hall, pseudo-men's wear with heeled boots, and an unnecessary amount of layers. No one really has friends. Instead, they have their family. And, by family, I mean they have or are somehow connected to the sisters (Hannah, Holly, and Leigh). Hannah (Mia Farrow) is sort of the glue of the sisters because she's married with kids, has an impressive acting career, and she has money to hand out to help out her wavering sisters from time to time. Holly (Diane Weist) is the former coke-addict/actress/caterer/screenwriter. Leigh (Barbara Hershey) is the youngest sister, the pretty one that Hannah's husband is crushing on, the one who lives with a much older man, and who sporadically takes classes at Columbia.

It's fair to say that I'm drawn to the sisters because I have two sisters. Well, more specifically, I'm drawn to that relationship because it is an honest portrayal of the "sister" relationship. I know someone who only has brothers who is always saying something like, "oh, how I wish I had a sister." It's hard for me to totally understand her romantic notion of sisters. I mean, it's not always easy having sisters--especially if they're like Hannah's or mine--because they are always sort of in each other's business. You didn't choose them to be in your life, but they are there. And, they know you like no other because you are all born to the same crazy parents, and you've all been exposed to each other's insecurities and strengths, and, well, it can be a lot. Woody Allen is so good at writing because he never romanticizes these women and their reactions to each other. He's pretty honest. And, I like that there are these men in the movie who sort of weave their way into the sisters' lives. They're not the center, but a privileged few who get to hang out with these women. I like that. I like it because that seems the only thing men CAN do sometimes when it comes to people like Hannah, Holly, and Leigh. But, understand--it's so important that you do--it's not about the men. It's not. It's about the women. And, the men are, well, like door prizes. Like, it's a nice surprise if you receive a good gift, but they're not the reason you go to the dance. You go for the women--to see their style, to engage with them, to hear them laugh and talk. That's why dances are fun. That's why these women are GOOD.

Oh, and it's all so funny. Like, Holly is so great when she's trying to sound all intellectual when she flirts with an architect. And, Woody Allen, of course, puts himself into the mix. He couldn't resist, and he shouldn't. It's sort of a side story from the primary one of Hannah's, but when Woody thinks he has a brain tumor...it's the funniest sequence of scenes. It's like life, I guess, but better. Better because they are rich and they live in hip New York and they have these beautiful dinners and crazy parents and crowded, used bookstores and they make tea on rainy, cold evenings. Oh, I just want to be IN their world. Maybe, the appeal is that, if you've got a sister or two, you kind of are in Hannah and Her Sisters. Well, a poor woman's version.

I totally surrender to them

2010-10-10T10:31:00.000-07:00

This blog was my idea. My creation. Some of my html handiwork. But Kathleen has made it her own. She is faithful to it in a way that I am not. Her honesty and humor, ugh. How is she so good? And Aileen--of course. She of the brilliant sentence fragments. She who writes so casually but so URGENTLY. I bow to both these women. So maybe it's not even my place to write about not movies/not books/not art. But I long to talk about other things. So that's what I'm gonna do. Readers (all two of you), I'm sorry. Movie reviews aren't moving me right now. But words and how these words cohere to make sentences...how these sentences move to tug at my soul...that is everything.

Found poetry is the best for beginners. Brilliance is so easy. So accidental. I remember one of my first encounters with found poetry--making a poem out of the Lord of the Flies text in English class. My poem had the refrain "Because the rules are all we've got!" To me, at tender 15, it was so true. So frustrating. So repressive.

But the best found poetry is in my email account. Because my friends are brilliant and exist on wavelengths...They are not even of this world.

"DON'T try to be [a] pretty girl. that is soooo regressive!! you just can't win. I mean, there are a lot of pretty girls. i totally surrender to them. but i feel like i have more, you know?"

And if I made this into a poem--well, obviously the refrain would be: "there are a lot of pretty girls/i totally surrender to them"

And this

"You're really really attached to your family. it's a fact. Just try and break away from them. Just try."

And, my favorite--when my personhood is compacted into a small explosive ball. When i feel like I will unwind, unravel, implode. I re-read this line. Re-commit it to memory.

"sometimes im just mad at the whole world...but always always its maddening because you're mad with yourself too. for being impatient, helpless, hypocritical, sensitive"

And sometimes the day is really warm and the water is really cool -- so this:

"the world was immediate
and ours"

And

"I think insanity is the correct nomenclature. I think, in many ways, work (all day every day all year every year just to pay RENT? Can anyone say SHAM) is a type of hell, it's like rolling a boulder up a hill, watching it roll down, rolling it back up, day in and out."

Oh god...I feel like some caged animal/human who finally has an ear to listen andIcan'tstop this typing. These words, these women, they move me. They make me.

I capture the castle

2010-10-09T20:20:00.001-07:00

Have you seen this? This gem? This brilliant piece of teenage advocacy? You might be wondering--who is the boyishly handsome man on the right? It's ELLIOT FROM E.T.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I mean, that is reason enough to watch this movie, no??

I'm not sure anymore. But I think I watched this seven years ago on my birthday. Flanked by my two best friends. And we lapped it up. Precocious Cassandra lives with her family in a dilapidated castle. Her father is a famous writer past his prime. Cassandra, her beautiful older sister, younger brother and stepmom humor the father--keeping his fragile ego intact.

Cassandra is seventeen. Her journal is her best friend. The similarities between her and me were startling. I was also seventeen. I also wrote obsessively in my journal. She lives in 1930's England in a dilapidated castle. I also lived.

Romola Garai plays doe eyed Cassandra so well. She's good. So good. She plays her with such a succinct vulnerability. Cassandra is content always to play second fiddle to her sister's beauty. I think what "I Capture the Castle" does so well is portray sisterhood in a way that is real, rounded. Cassandra and sister Rose fight. Their temperaments are so different. Rose is flighty and only concerned with her beauty and Cassandra is cerebral, an observer. But they are best friends. There is no jealousy. Just two girls who root for each other in their hearts.

And there is love. Cassandra and Rose meet two handsome American brothers. The brothers are their tickets out of the dilapidated castle, out of not-so-genteel poverty. Cassandra loves one of the brothers. But she is only the plain little sister, good for fun, not for marriage. Cassandra feels so intensely. She lives in her head. In her journal.

Bill Nighy is as good as ever as Cassandra's father. But the movie belongs to Romola. Romola, who can express anything with her eyes. Romola, whose voice breaks at exactly the right time when she's crying. Romola, who is neither ugly nor beautiful--just perfect.

Oh and the cinematography? Endless rolling hills and beautiful vistas if that's your thing. But if your thing is an insightful female protagonist who refuses mediocrity and wants more than anything TO LOVE and to BE LOVED--oh you will love it.

some days

2010-10-09T19:54:00.000-07:00

Some days...when life feels especially indifferent, I watch this clip of My Left Foot. And then I watch it again. And again. Turning it up full volume to drown out the off key happy birthday singers in the apartment next door. Oh god...Family. FAMILY. And he opted for "Mother" and not "Mom". How can you ever escape your family? They are my magnetic north, my phantom limbs.

The Ballad of Jack and Rose

2010-10-06T08:38:00.000-07:00

I don't know how I am supposed to watch The Ballad of Jack and Rose. Is it entertaining in its simplicity OR is it so getting off on its wannabe-artsy aesthetic that it's actually giving itself a boner? I want to like it--mainly so that I can trick myself into feeling like an academic or an intellectual. Mostly, though, I loathe this movie. I loathe it for waxing poetic when the plot is too fluffy for it to hold any substance.

The characters are all pretty unlikeable, if not aesthetically (at least in the abstract) beautiful. Daniel Day Lewis is the emaciated father who smokes like a chimney. He and his daughter live on a now-defunct hippie commune somewhere off of New York's coast. The daughter is played by a Botticelli-like angel (who possesses little more charisma than her pure looks provide). Father and daughter are living their pseudo-incestuous life alone on the island when Day Lewis decides that his daughter, Rose, may need a mother to look after her sooner than later. Okay, so, the name "Rose" brings me to the first of the heavy-handed metaphors throughout this movie. See, the cinematography is kind of gorgeous. And, if you can stay alert for that, then you can make your life at least bearable for the 150 minutes of screen time by picking out all of the sexual metaphors. It's a game, if you will. Ah, Rose. Rose, who has a green thumb for flowers, turns out to be a little minx who cannot wait to **here it comes** be de-flowered. Not obvious enough? Not convinced yet? There's more.

Rose uses a shotgun and snakes to assert her own phallic powers in relation to her father. When her semi-incestuous home life is suddenly threatened by the arrival of Dad's new girlfriend (Catherine Keener) and her two sons, Rose's playhouse is suddenly blown over, dilapidated and destroyed. It goes on and on. Part of me wants to give the filmmakers credit for devising such a game of "spot the metaphors" in a maze of ugly characters. Mostly, though, I'm just annoyed about the whole farce. I'm annoyed because, deep down, I think the filmmakers ACTUALLY wanted to make a whip-smart film. They didn't. Oh, and don't EVEN get me started on the totally useless, throw-away character that is Jason Lee. He's too good for this movie. Now, that's saying a lot.

scoop of chocolate scoop of vanilla; don't waste my time...

2010-10-04T11:42:00.000-07:00

It's just so good. Can't. stop.

it's been so long and it will be longer

2010-10-03T15:13:00.000-07:00

Kathleen continues to write beautiful entries. And I continue to lurk. I know! I suck. I have been inundated with work, life, tears, breathing, sadness, happiness, french fries. But I promise to write a review of I capture the castle soon. I re-watched it recently. I remember seeing it for the first time on my seventeenth birthday. It spoke so deeply to me then. There is always the risk of rewatching really formative films from your youth. You risk thinking they are stupid or childish because you have grown and matured. Luckily, I have neither grown nor matured because the movie was still as good as I remembered. It perfectly displays the intensity of teenage emotion--when you are living so so fiercely in your head. In your journal.

And following Kathleen's lead, I've been listening to Ravel. Pavane for a Dead Princess is playing now. There is sadness in the air but I am happy here.

And, like always, I am obsessively watching youtube videos of limber breakdancers. These images really move me.

My best friend recently got an Iphone and yeah I know it's not a big deal cuz all the tweens have one but it's a big deal to me. Phones should be phones. Not cameras and music players! But she sent me this picture she took with her Iphone. It's her grandmother's living room. It is so so eerie. The witching hour inside. Bright bright outside. This image continues to move me.

Tootsie

2010-09-23T08:30:00.000-07:00

Like so many movies, Tootsie is beloved by me mainly because the people I love really love it. Namely, my mom. My mom is the kind of person who knows exactly what she likes and her taste (in my eyes) has always been impeccable. She differentiates between "pretty," "cute," and "attractive," and her assessments are always spot-on. (For the record, "pretty" is best, and "attractive" can be just as appealing. The most-valued compliment from her is when she looks at my baby pictures and tells me I was not just a cute, but a pretty baby. I assure you that I was always aware that beauty is very much in the eye of the beholder. What I mean is that if my mother--who values pretty above all--wanted a "pretty" baby, she could pretty much convince herself of that, regardless of its objective truth.) My mom has a quick wit and a dry humor. Consequently, she knows what is funny and what is not. Most t.v. shows are not funny. Few movies are. Tootsie, by her analysis, is very funny. And, so, I could always completely embrace this movie with abandon. I could laugh. Out loud.

Tootsie was made the same year as Gandhi, and my entire life I heard about what a tragedy it was for Gandhi to win the Academy Award for Best Picture over Tootsie. So, when I saw the movie, Gandhi, as a teenager, I was really baffled at my own taste. I loved it and, as I grew older, loved everything about the actor, Ben Kingsley, and, of course, the importance of the real Gandhi. But, Gandhi (the movie) wasn't funny, and that must have been its fatal flaw, after all.

Dustin Hoffman plays the lead role in Tootsie. He is Michael Dorsey, a talented New York actor that can never get a part. He decides to dress in drag in order to get a soap opera gig. Of course, he gets it and becomes the raging feminist who is beloved by all contemporary women. Well, he's totally attractive to his male co-stars as well. I have a soft spot for late 1970s/early 1980s films set in New York City. The fashions are so dated and gritty. The actors actually look like real people and are not so airbrushed as is the case of recent movies. The way Tootsie plays with feminist stereotypes and women's bravado of forced assertion is interesting and provocative. Dorothy (Michael Dorsey's woman character) straddles the line between promoting her feminism and staying true to her/his self.

I realize I'm talking in the abstract about this movie, and I'm not making it seem very funny at all. It's just that the movie is filled with nuances and subtleties that are entrenched in the over-arching themes of feminism, self-exploration and self-realization. Michael Dorsey says that he thinks he was a better man as Dorothy as he ever was as himself as a man. That seems like a convoluted statement, and it sort of is. But, he is saying in a round-about way that when we allow all sides of ourselves to come out, we don't have to be boxed in. We can finally be free. And, that idea of "pretty" or "cute" or "ugly" or "funny" is no one's prerogative but each person's. So, laugh out loud. Or don't. It's your call. Yours alone.

Thoughts on the formulaic movie arch

2010-09-18T21:11:00.000-07:00

I keep seeing a lot of previews for The Town, which is directed by Ben Affleck. The voice talking over the preview says something like, "from the director of Gone Baby Gone." I mean, is he trying to fool us? It's so lame. Why doesn't he just say, "from director Ben Affleck"? We all know, after all, that Ben directed Gone Baby Gone. I don't know if that's a turn-off or what. It's weird, too, because Ben stars in The Town. Why are we pretending he didn't have his hands all over Gone Baby Gone (with his brother in the lead role and Ben writing it for the screen and directing it) and The Town? It's bizarre mainly because I really liked Gone Baby Gone, and I think it got pretty good reviews over all. The Town is getting excellent reviews. I just don't know why the voice-over man is trying to pull the wool over our eyes when it's totally unnecessary.

The voice-over man's odd reference to the nameless director of Gone Baby Gone is making me think more and more about that movie. It's making me ponder why I actually like the movie if the director/writer is such a douche that he's not even mentioned by name. This got me thinking that, maybe, I only like Gone Baby Gone because it follows a really appealing formula. That formula, my friend(s), is the Arch. The Arch works like this: 1) A story starts out with a certain goal in mind. 2) The climax of the movie is when the goal should be reached but is not reached. 3) The main character struggles to find a way to live her/his life and move on from the unfulfilled goal. 4) During this time, the main character's emotional self is laboring and struggling to get through. 5) The aforementioned goal is finally reached, albeit with a different mindset or after math.

To demonstrate, I will examine two pretty different movies: Sex and the City AND Gone Baby Gone. They have different themes and cater to different audiences. Yet, they follow the exact same formulaic arch. **SPOILER ALERT FOR BOTH MOVIES** In Sex and the City, Carrie has the goal of marrying Big. The movie builds and builds until the wedding when he, invariably, gets cold feet. The movie takes a sharp turn in tone and emotion. The drums start to beat and we, the audience, understand that we are taking a nosedive. Carrie spends a great deal of the movie in a depressed state (even darkening her hair to reenforce the metaphor) before the principle goal of the movie is finally reached; she marries Big. The wedding is not how she planned it, and the goal of the movie takes on a different point of view.

The same is true for GBG. Patrick, as a private detective, spends the first part of the movie fulfilling the film's goal: to find and bring back a missing girl. When the goal is about to be reached, the little girl supposedly dies. The detective, then, is destitute and spends a great deal of the next part of the movie a bit lost and in a contemplative state over how he botched the job of retrieving the little girl. Ultimately, the little girl is found (fulfilling the movie's goal). However, the emotions of the main character have changed because, though the goal is fulfilled, the circumstances surrounding the goal have drastically changed.

Is the Arch a formula to follow in order to ensure entertainment? Maybe, the audience responds to it because it's a rhythmically-paced ride that is both familiar and comfortable. I think it's a great sort of tool. But, like any tool, it's only as good as the person using it. I'm ready to face it: Ben Affleck has skills. You can include his name in the preview for The Town. I'll still go see it.

500 Days of Summer

2010-09-09T14:02:00.000-07:00

I really didn't like Summer in 500 Days of Summer. She was brass and bawdy and cold and removed. I didn't like her because she was too real and too reminiscent of boys I've fallen for.

500 Days of Summer is the kind of movie that really wants to be edgy or arty. It wants to be different by letting you know that it's not going to tell its story in a conventional way. Throughout the movie, numbers flash onto the screen. The correspondence to the numbers is not really explained, but I presume they relate to the day of Tom and Summer's relationship (and there are 500 of those days). It's overtly edgy, yes, but I liked that aspect. It was a new way to tell a story--especially a love story. As Tom's little sister notes in the movie, we don't really remember our lives in a set sequence. We remember the good parts. And, we don't even ACTUALLY remember the good parts. We remember what we imagine or perceive to be the good parts. Did she really glance at you in that whimsical way or did you later imagine that she did? Did she really give you that hand job in the shower or did she accidentally brush up against you? Your mind takes you to extremes--maybe in an effort to preserve what is good or to discount the bad.

Tom is a likable kind of guy. He's sensitive, but not too much. He's open and really the kind of guy you could want for a boyfriend. And, that's sort of how this whole movie works. See, Summer insists to him right from the beginning that she does not want a boyfriend. And, she refuses to label their relationship as anything more than friendly. So, that is the frustrating (and good) part. Why WOULDN'T she want Tom?They are clearly happy together. But, that's it, isn't it? That's sort of the age-old question that we can never, ever answer. Well, maybe the better question is why does Tom stick around for someone who clearly only wants to play with him? Well, she makes him happy. For Tom, at least for the now, that is enough.

I liked this movie. I liked the color schemes of the office where Tom works as a greeting card writer. I liked the wardrobe choices for Tom and Summer. I liked how the characters went on a little tour of the architecture of Los Angeles. I even liked the cruelty that is Summer. I guess it's because we're all a little walled or icy when it comes to our inner feelings. We are almost required to share such intimate details in relationships. It's scary, and sometimes we need a little bit of armour.

There is one scene that epitomizes the manifestation of a heart break. It's near the end. Tom's reality is juxtaposed with his fantasy. We've all done that, right? We want so much for our fantasies to play out even though we understand how futile such imaginings may be when they must compete with the cruel world of reality. Oh, and the dance routine Tom does with his neighborhood peeps after he gets laid is kind of brilliant, too.

Good Hair

2010-08-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

I have Good Hair. I mean, I guess I do. I do because I am white and my hair is straight (if not me). Bad Hair would be classified as "black" people's hair--hair that has not been straightened and is without chemicals. Good Hair is long and flowing and perfect. With that description, my hair no longer seems so Good, but it is straight, and that may be good enough.

Good Hair is a documentary narrated by Chris Rock about African American women's hair (and beauty and societal pressures on women in general) in the United States. On Oprah (when Rock was promoting this film), Rock said that he was inspired to explore this topic when he overheard his little daughter talking to her white friend, telling her how much she loved her hair. The dialogue made Rock uncomfortable because he could tell that his daughter was not only complimenting her friend in a secure way, but that she was gushing over something she could only dream of having--the set standard of Good Hair.

I watched this movie with two girls (14 and 16) whom I have known since they were born. They are the kids of my mom's good friends and they were adopted from Ethiopia. They are black girls who are being raised by white parents in a white town. The older girl gets her hair done--braided in a twist fashion--every few months for a substantial cost, and her sister lets her hair alone and wears it mostly in a ponytail.

I couldn't help but think of how these young girls felt while watching Good Hair. For me, it was interesting to learn about how the hair for weaves comes mostly from India and which chemicals are used for certain hairstyles. I learned that even girls as young as three years old have their hair straightened with chemicals. The women who were interviewed were candid about the different procedures and reasons behind some of the drastic measures (such as the astronomical costs of wigs and weaves, not to mention scalp and even potential neurological damage from chemicals). Though they spoke of procedures for African American hair, to me the documentary was relateable in that it touched on the beauty expectations of women of all races and ages.

But, what about my dear girls with whom I watched the documentary? They're teenagers and they don't readily spill their feelings. However, when prompted, they said that the film was interesting. Their parents did gush and say how interesting this whole world of hair straightening was. One of the parents said that the girls would not be getting a weave or a chemical perm. It is too expensive, she said. Well, yes, they are expensive. I think, though, that the girls' mom was saying, in her own way, that her daughters' hair is beautiful--that the girls themselves are beautiful--just as they are. That is, of course, completely true.

Mannequin

2010-07-29T21:15:00.000-07:00

I can’t decide if Mannequin is a movie filled with metaphors for a man’s sexual insecurities and all-around bouts of self-loathing OR if it’s just really cheesy and bad in the way that only movies made in the 1980s can be. Yes, it stars Andrew McCarthy, the flavorless lug in Pretty In Pink who manages to suck out most of the charm that Duckie puts into that movie. It seems that Andrew’s job in movies is to sulk around to provide some sort of pseudo balance to the flamboyant gay/not gay man that befriends him or is somehow simply in the same movie.

In Mannequin, Andrew is a “weird” guy who gets a job dressing windows at a department store. Well, I think in the beginning he’s hired as a janitor or as a mannequin dresser or something. Then, voila, he makes these amazing window dressings. Amazing? Yeah, right. Please—before I go any further—allow me to explain these AMAZING pieces: the mannequins are all dressed in undergarments! The mannequins are simulating a tennis game by having a ball (that is on a string) sway back and forth! Amazing! Believe me, even when I first saw this movie as a very little girl, I knew this window dressing was boring at best. I played along then, so bear with me now. As you probably know, he’s not doing these displays alone. The mannequin comes to life. And, it’s Kim Cattrall who, in 1987, looks incredibly gorgeous. I mean, WAY too good for meal-y Andrew McCarthy. Of course, Andrew’s uber-flamboyant co-worker is named Hollywood. I always thought he was Anthony on Designing Women. Does it even matter if he’s not? It’s practically the same person. Anyway, I guess that’s the movie’s way of adding spice, much like the juxtaposition to Duckie in Pretty In Pink. Listen, it doesn’t really work. Andrew is bland. Just let him be that way! Do not infiltrate a movie with gay stereotypes just to add color to a vanilla actor. Now, that’s boring.

But, let’s get into what this movie is REALLY about. Like I said before, the mannequin is leggy and gorgeous and an amazing (completely mediocre) designer. She only comes alive when Andrew is alone with her. What is this movie saying? A man is so insecure that he must completely possess a beautiful woman? I mean, she is giving him the pleasure. She is for him and him alone. Why can’t she be seen by others? Maybe, he’s so insecure that he believes that if she goes out into the world, she will understand that she can do so much better than him. Maybe, if she were to brave society, she would realize that there is more to life than the male gaze (this ONE male gaze). She would maybe understand that her life does not have to be about giving this man pleasure—pleasure by way of her body and her talents. The more I write this, the more I am disgusted with this movie. Men, it seems¸ are so insecure in relationships and in themselves that they think that in order to hold onto a beautiful, smart woman, they have to literally hold on to her and cloak her from the effects and influences of society at large. The mannequin in the movie holds a blank stare when in the presence of other people (besides only Andrew). We accept her dead eyes and then embrace her loveliness and charisma when she is alive with Andrew. Maybe we do accept that because we are all so programmed to believe that women are most alive when validated by the presence of the one man, the one “special” man who chooses such possession. I swear, I am holding back the impulse to shake the intelligence back into every girl or woman who has ever copped to the belief that they are only worthy if a man deems them to be. Don’t think I leave myself out of this notion; I am shaking the cobwebs out of my own brain as I write.

Grey Gardens (revisited)

2010-07-17T22:15:00.000-07:00

The documentary, Grey Gardens, was made in 1975 by the Maysles, two filmmaker brothers. I already reviewed the HBO movie by the same name starring Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange. I praised Barrymore just because I thought her acting was good. In the documentary, Little Edie talks about someone playing herself in a movie. She doesn't want anyone to do that. No. If anyone were to play Little Edie, it would be Little Edie. Well, I'm back again to give Drew her props. She looks just like Little Edie--and talks like her, and dances like her, and (dare I say it?) she even captures her charm.

I didn't know anything about the documentary until the HBO movie came out. Of course, that film sparked my interest in the real-life Big Edie and Little Edie (the Beales). I learned a lot in the documentary. I learned that the Maysles really came to love these two women, and that their portrait of them would not have been so endearing had they not. The documentary has become sort of a cult hit. I get why; it's really because of Little Edie. She is an icon and an eccentric--an articulate eccentric. In other words, she's kind of irresistible. Little Edie promotes a sort of thrift store glamour. She's a Bouvier, and with that name comes a social status that turns out to be unshakable. Oh, her fashion sense. It is quirky, but completely spot on. She's really great with color choice and even the manipulation of fabrics and whole outfits. Little Edie wears brooches on her hand towel turbins and 1950s bathing suits as a base beneath an upside down skirt.

The women are not crazy--just over the top and real. The documentary now comes with previously unseen footage of the Beales. They are incredibly charming and social. Little Edie manages to engage in the filmmakers quite a bit, even though they try to stay out of the shot. A 2006 interview from the surviving brother, Albert Maysles, reveals that there was always a bit of a running joke between the brothers and Little Edie about who Little Edie was after. She played it up, too. But, she didn't play it up for the camera. The camera just happened to be there. I think that is the charm of Little Edie. Of course, that is also the charm of the documentary. It is a ride.

Lakota Woman: Siege at Wounded Knee

2010-07-10T18:18:00.000-07:00

I entered the eighth grade in a new school in a new town. I cannot much remember the first days of other school years or even the first days of new jobs. However, I remember my first day of eighth grade and pretty much every day after that for the year. I got called a boy by the choir teacher. Consequently, I yearned to crawl into a ball and never leave the corner of the room. This town I moved to was small, and the mindset of the people felt small, and my bedroom felt small, and my tolerance for ignorance was becoming smaller and smaller. See, eighth grade was a time when I was really trying to understand myself and express myself. That is when I began to listen to "peace" music, like Joan Baez. I became, more than ever, interested in women's liberation. Most of all, though, I became interested in Native Americans. I was obsessed, you might say. When I fall in love, I fall hard. This was no exception.

I started to read about the American Indian Movement of the 1970s. I devoured the autobiographical books of Mary Brave Bird. I learned about the incarceration of Leonard Peltier and watched documentaries about him. I was convinced, then, that he was wrongly convicted of murdering FBI agents. I would write the White House on a fairly regular basis, urging the powers that be that Peltier was a political prisoner and nothing more. Those White House folks always wrote me back, saying that the Peltier case was still pending. "Yeah, right," I thought, as I popped in the CD of Joan Baez singing Prison Trilogy. I would like to say that I discovered the American Indian Movement on my own, that I just happened to be reading my encyclopedia when I decided to learn more about the 1890 Wounded Knee Massacre and the 1970s re-taking of the land. No, that did not happen. What did happen was there was a television movie called Lakota Woman: Siege at Wounded Knee (based on Mary Brave Bird's books). I saw it and something clicked. The Native Americans were strangers in their own land; on some level, I could relate.

See, a 13 year old is sort of a stranger to herself. I mean, I was. I was awakening to the strength of my beliefs and realizing the passion behind my convictions. That's heavy for a kid. I needed help, so I transformed my struggle into the struggle of the American Indians. I made their struggle my struggle and vice verse. The historical, 1890 Wounded Knee Massacre was a slaughter of the American Indians. Then, in the 1970s, the American Indians (via the American Indian Movement), many of whom were living in poverty or who were indoctrinated with Christianity, came together to re-claim their land, to re-claim their identity. A symbol of the A.I.M. was the upside down American flag. That was used to symbolize the dissatisfaction of the American Indian people within American society.

My own mind was awakening to certain injustices and wrongs in our society. I understood the American Indians' overall unhappiness with the state of their world. I understood their unhappiness really by way of my own unhappiness with the world. I was coming into a time of my life (a state in which I still currently dwell) when I hungered to understand and paricipate in social movements for the betterment of society. Well, in a sort of solidarity with the idea and passion of social change that I saw in A.I.M., I painted an upside down flag and hung it on my window. I still remember when I was made to take it down for fear that people would shoot at the house if they saw it. (That's the kind of small town in which I was living.) I knew my flag was freedom of expression. I knew that it was unfair to take it off the window. But, I did it. I did it and I thought I understood the oppression of the American Indians. I now know how selfish I was for even relating my own pain to a whole people's. I did learn later, though, that there is no hierarchy of pain or oppression.

I love ROLLER RINKS

2010-06-30T21:05:00.000-07:00

Longs Drugstore was located about five miles outside of the town where I went to college. If you've ever lived in a traditional college town, you know that there is a big difference between the students who come from far and wide to attend school and the people that actually live in the town. And, you also know that people who are supposedly smart (i.e. the students) can very suddenly turn into smart asses. Longs, being a safe distance away from the sprawling university, did not really cater to the students. Therefore, REAL people shopped there. A cross-section of people. Poor. Rich. (Mostly poor.) Black, White, Asian, Indian, Purple, Homeless. This was a truly refreshing place. I could hop on my bicycle and reach the land of real life. The land of Longs. A roller rink, nowadays, is kind of like Longs.

It is fair to say that I had not been to a roller rink in twenty years when I decided to go again. When I was very little, I used to go to Mom & Tot Skate, to birthday parties, and to elementary school class parties all at the local roller rink. I used to do "shoot the duck," I couples skated with my friends, and I ate at the snack bar. I thought I was incredibly cool on my skates. I thought all of my friends were cool. I thought the skating rink was cool. Now, going there as an adult, I think I was delusional. Either that or times have really changed. See, skating rinks attract representation from every section of people. On Adult Night at the roller rink, I've seen: business people in suits; couples; single women in their fifties and sixties; lots of over-forty single men; lots of over-forty single men with mustaches; young, hip men; women with hot pants on; women with feathered hair; and lots of people in jeans who looked like they ambled in without knowing they were entering a roller rink. Lots of the single men are incredibly good skaters. They zip around the rink and occasionally do tricks. Everyone moves with ease, and I've never seen even one collision.

Like I said, there are lots of single people. I was a little concerned that it would be a bit of a freak-show meat market. People are pretty friendly, but there's more of a camaraderie than a place for pick-ups. I was asked by a Regular to skate with him in a couples skate. I had to decline because, although 50 year old men with mustaches have always been my type, I couldn't betray my nonexistent boyfriend. And, besides, skating was my outlet--my fun--and I just didn't want to taint that with some pseudo skate romance. My heart wouldn't be able to take it. Anyway, it dawned on me later that he probably only wanted to skate with me so that he could stay on the rink. It was a couples only song, after all.

So, yes, there are lots of odd-ball people, including the lady in pink tights who insists on skating on one leg with her other one extended behind her, and the man who most definitely used to be an ice skater who insists on doing axles in the middle of the rink. There are also the younger men who fall in line together on the rink and do a routine as they skate the circle. That's my favorite. Those guys usually don't get to the rink until about an hour and a half into Adult Skate Night. I chatted one of those hotties up tonight. "You're such a good skater. Oh, you have a locker here. Do you work here?" I said as I batted my eyelashes. Of course, he skated only with his pals, but I kept my eye on him the whole time. He was leading their routine, and you know I love a boy who can dance--especially on skates.

There are a lot of characters. Some form of those characters are, no doubt, in attendance in all of the roller rinks across the Midwest. You get to skate under a mirror ball while watching weirdos and the (extremely) occasional eye candy. Plus, skating is lots of fun. You groove to the music. You're free. You're so free that your freakiness ceases to matter. Here, you're allowed to kick your leg out or wear a leotard or break dance in the middle of the rink. You'll be able to wave you Freak Flag, and that is infinitely better than any coolness factor you thought you possessed.

A marginal review

2010-06-23T15:05:00.000-07:00

I'm back! Life has felt so so small. Started a new job that takes up at least 8 1/2 to 9 hours of my day. How am I supposed to review movies?! I've been a bad movie reviewer again and of course Kathleen has been as on her game as ever. Never missing a beat. It's funny because I recently watched Lovely and Amazing and loved it, as well. The director, Nicole Holofcener takes a risk in that film because none of the characters is particularly relatable or likable--least of all Keener, who is her perennial muse and star. Keener played plucky, aging Homecoming Queen so well. She was entitled and spoiled but she was ABOUT SOMETHING. Sometimes the something was unclear...She was about making tiny, oversized figurines? She was about telling random people to "F*** off"? But she stood up for herself, at least. Holofcener is the Nancy Meyers antidote. Her movies are darker, more somber. Her films feature women who don't have sprawling mansions with breathtaking vistas. Her movies are real and sometimes they make you uncomfortable. I watched "Walking and Talking" a few years ago--starring Keener and Anne Heche. That movie was about losing your best friend to your best friend's boyfriend. Well, it was only marginally about that...Who among us can't relate to that? I remember meeting my sister's college boyfriend when I was an angsty sixteen year old and just hating him. I wanted my sister all to myself! He stayed in our home over winter break and I couldn't even make eye contact with him. Then, as now, I had very few social skills. Sometimes Holofcener skirts the question : What is female friendship when unmediated by men? The answer to that question is so much more interesting than the kiddie pool rom coms that can only ask : What is female friendship in relation to men? In the latter, the sidekick can only comment wistfully or wittily about the boyfriend/prospect. Who cares!?!?! Bride Wars I'm thinking about you....Women have thoughts, you know. Internal lives that don't always revolve around boys. Holofcener shows that. There are so few female directors in the limelight. I try to do my best to support them when I can.

One Memorial Day three years ago the three writers of this blog dressed up in all black and held an actual memorial for fallen soldiers. Foregoing barbecues and red tag sales we stood around a gorgeous hand dyed yellow flag and set it on fire. We talked about soldiers dying and how such a somber day could come to mean 50% OFF EVERYTHING!!!!! We talked about make up and the inexorable push and pull to it. Then we poured a bucket of water on the fallen flag and wondered how to get the smell out of our hair. See? Movies should portray women like this--making no sense, making little sense, making beautiful sense, making a scene...Trying to articulate thoughts that are ineffable. I love women.

Toy Story 3

2010-06-20T20:45:00.000-07:00

"Would I be lost because I didn't see the second installment? Would Buzz and Woody's inside jokes make no sense to me?" I mulled over the answers as I entered the movie theater to see Toy Story 3. I needn't have worried; Toy Story 3 is a good movie--all on its own.

Toy Story came out in 1995. 1995 was the year I stopped playing with my Barbies. Once I made the decision to stop playing, I could not start again. I know because I tried. I set up my Barbie houses with my Barbie furniture, picked out the Barbie dolls I would play with, and started. But, I could not go back once I quit. That was one of the saddest days of my life. My Barbies used to be everything to me. I would play for hours. I kept story lines going. It was absolutely my escape. Once I put a moratorium on playing, my sanctuary was destroyed. I gave it all up because I was afraid a friend would come over and make fun of me for still playing Barbies. No friend in eighth grade (I know...that's how OLD I was) was worth that, but I gave up part of my life anyway. The Toy Story film makers understand and respect each toy. They understand each toy's back story, how it is played with, who would play with it, and why. The film makers also understand the children who love such toys. That, I think, is the charm of the Toy Story movies.

The first movie is sweet in that it explores a child's relationship and devotion to her or his toys. Really, the movie explores how children create their own allies within their own little world. I can relate. I mean, I guess that's why I spent so much time and energy on my Barbie world; it was controllable and intricate and friendly in a real world that was not always that way.

Toy Story 3 brings the charm of the first one, but adds a new dimension. The toys' boy, Andy, is no longer a little boy. He's heading off to college. What, then, should become of his toys? I was not expecting to be moved by this movie in the way that I was. At the heart of Toy Story 3 is this message: Respect your past enough to allow yourself to move on and leave what you can in capable hands. Remember in the first Toy Story when all of the toys worked together (and relied on the Army men) to find out what toys Andy got for his birthday? Well, there's a scene in the beginning of T.S.3 that mirrors that in an alternate universe. The toys work together once again to concoct a plan to make a 17 year old Andy open his toy box. See, Andy doesn't play any more, but the toys think that maybe, MAYBE, just by seeing them, Andy will want to love them again. That scene is a prelude to the tears that will inevitably come for the viewer at the end of the movie. Be comforted that you won't be the only one weeping during the last 15 minutes of the film. I will not say more about it. Just go see this movie.

Lovely and Amazing

2010-06-07T16:18:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, there are movies that you just don't want anyone else to see. Having someone else see it would be the same as sharing your diary or letting the lunch lady from your elementary school watch you take a bath. For me, Lovely & Amazing is one of those movies. Lovely & Amazing is about a white mother and two grown daughters. (One, who is played by Catherine Keener, is married with a child. The other, played by Emily Mortimer, is a single actress who routinely picks up stray dogs.) The mother also has a black, adopted daughter named Annie. She's about 10 years old. The mother goes in to have liposuction on her stomach. She's got a crush on her doctor. Oh my gosh...this IS a personal story to me. I mean, does everyone's mother fall in love with her doctor? For my own piece of mind, just answer me "yes." While the mother is in the hospital with the procedure, the older daughters go on with their lives and have to take care of Annie.

They're all in it together because they're sisters. And, as is the case in certain families, that is what they have; that is their family. The most moving parts of the movie deal with body image. Annie wants to tear her skin off to make it look white like her mom's. Annie's fat like her mom, and understands that her mom is having liposuction to look better. However, when your mom goes to such great lengths to change her appearance (an appearance that, in some respects, matches her daughter's), a 10 year old girl is not really emotionally equipped to come to terms with such a conclusion. I guess it follows that the actress-sister has the same sorts of body insecurities. Maybe it's because they were/are raised by the same mother. Maybe it's because they are women/girls in this American society. What alternative do they really have than to be unsatisfied with and insecure about their bodies?

Emily Mortimer's character has, possibly, the most honest and uncomfortable scene. She stands naked in front of a famous actor (played by Dermot Mulroney...Keener's real-life then-husband and now ex-husband) after she has sex with him. She tells him to tell her what is good and bad about her body. The critique that she requests (which he does give) is startling because Mortimer's character, although self-deprecating and kind of insecure, seems ultimately strong in herself. The critique represents a kind of truth women both want and don't want about their bodies. It's a vulnerability that seemingly self-assured women rarely display.

After, the actress walks away to rescue another dog. Only, this one bites her in the face. I think this daughter will ultimately be okay, though, because the next morning she wakes up to a house full of her sisters. They're waiting for the call from the hospital to finally pick their mother up. I get the feeling that maybe Mortimer's character--just for that moment--doesn't care that some one-night stand guy told her that her teeth were yellow or that her arms were flabby. See, in that moment, her family was together. And, that's what she has, mentally and physically, and for better or for worse.

The Secret In Their Eyes (El Secreto de sus Ojos)

2010-06-02T21:13:00.001-07:00

I don't really know where to begin with this. See, I saw The Secret In Their Eyes (El Secreto de sus Ojos) tonight by myself, and then I met someone for drinks after. I couldn't really talk about the movie because I was afraid I would give something away. But, that's all I could think about. It consumed me. I was so emotionally overwhelmed that I had to compartmentalize it all until I could totally spill. I guess this is my spill because I feel like I'm just needing to tell everything and nothing at once (because I just don't want to spoil anything). I knew next to nothing going into the movie (other than 1. it won an Oscar for best foreign film; 2, it's from Argentina; and 3. three of my friends told me they really liked it. Well, one of them said it's an epic film. I knew that meant something because he prefaced that statement with, "I wouldn't normally ever use the word 'epic,' but that's what it is." I think he was right.)

There is a rape and murder that takes place, and everything stems from there. The images are not so gruesome that you can't watch, but they are affecting because they never seem to leave the protagonist's mind. By transference, they never leave the viewer's mind, either. The images of the dead woman linger and serve to taint all the other parts of the movie. The main character (Benjamin), 25 years later, decides to write a novel (even though it's a true-event story) about this rape/homicide case. So, we the audience are tossed back and forth between him writing and reflecting on the case and the time period in the past, and present day. The shift is not jarring; if anything, it's a way to clarify his feelings in the present and understand the events that led up to the now.

There's crime and intrigue and humor and suspicion, but I'm neglecting the most resonating part. There is, in fact, a tragic and beautiful love story that you really must experience to appreciate. And, there's not just one. Benjamin's longing for Irene, the lawyer on the case, gets interlaced with the murdered woman's grieving husband, and maybe Benjamin even loves that woman, too. There are three key scenes in The Secret In Their Eyes that especially took my breath away. Forgive the evasive nature of this review, but it's important that I give nothing away. Suffice it to say that all three key scenes start with a glance or a gesture and end with perfect dialogue.

I know I'm not really doing justice to this film. It's way past midnight now, and I'm still thinking about the cadence of the plot and the arch of the characters. I'm still sorting it all out. You just need to see it. It's exactly how I think movies deserve to be: strong and developed and tragic and funny and alive.

The Sisterhood of the YOUNG ADULT Novels

2010-05-31T17:27:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I've seen the movie in passing, as it's been on HBO from time to time. The daughter from Gilmore Girls is in it, and there is something so blah about her (and the show!) that I can't even watch. The movie is like Now and Then or any other bad movie that WANTS to make a profound movie about girls' lives but manages to fail miserably. I saw the book in The Salvation Army, and it only cost 32 cents. Who was I to pass up such a deal? And, besides, I really missed reading Young Adult books. They are my absolute favorite.

So, I read The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. The characters were more developed and more relateable than in the movie. I have to admit that the book was as hokey as the movie, but that it was, honestly, a pleasure to read. The girls in the book go through their own turmoil of sorts, but it's nothing too heavy to deal with. And, it's nice sometimes to read a book that you can just breeze through. So, reading The Sisterhood brought me back to my own days as a young girl and the love that I had for books. I mean, it was a love that compelled me to want to be a writer when I was little. (And, no, not a reporter. A writer. There's a difference.) I'm reminded of the last line in the movie, Stand By Me (Stephen King's short story, The Body), when the writer types something like, "I never again had friends later in life like I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?" That's kind of how I feel about books. That's why Young Adult novels are close to my heart. But, it's a distant closeness because you really cannot go back in time. Twelve is gone. Forever.

The best Y.A. books, in my opinion, are by Judy Blume. She's kind of the master. (Blubber, Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great, Starring Sally J. Freedman As Herself.) She later came out with Summer Sisters, a book that one of my friends admitted to re-reading every summer as her ritual. Lurlene McDaniel was one of my junior high favorites, too. Yeah, all of her main characters had terminal illnesses. But, nothing was too intense, too desperate, or too unbearable.

Young Adult books are so important to children of a certain age because they read these books at such a critical point in their lives--right before high school and right about the time school portraits should be outlawed because everyone seems to look incredibly awkward and ugly. I still really like the Y.A. books--not because they are escorting me into my teens, but because they remind me of how free and optimistic and open I once was. And, because, you know, I still want to be a writer. And, no, not a reporter. There's a difference.

every night

2010-05-16T12:57:00.000-07:00

You know...Sometimes people suck and they make fun of a guy and the guy happens to be a schizophrenic GENIUS.

Solaris (1972 Andrei Tarovsky)

2010-05-14T19:24:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago, my littler brother told me about how we might see aliens in our generation, according to stephen hawking. (my response: who is stephen hawking??) so after some you-tubing, i realized that it must seem so obvious to someone like hawking, who lives and breaths cosmology, that we should colonize other planets ASAP for their resources and that when other aliens come to us, they will want our resources ("If aliens visit us, the outcome would be much as when Columbus landed in America, which didn't turn out well for the Native Americans").

And this is when I decided it's time for a good sci-fi. This one is slow-moving, moody, eerie, and emotion-building. Normally, thanks to Netflix, I like to spread out a movie in two or three days, watching a little each day. I carry it with me; it becomes a part of my week, my thoughts, my dreams, rather than a 2-hour affair. Solaris is 2 hours and 45 minutes long, but I saw it in one sitting. It didn't feel that long...others might disagree. Others might also object to the low-budget set and visual effects. But that kind of fanfare excitement was not what I was expecting when I wanted a "good sci-fi." The movie carried me in to its world; it absorbed my imagination, so I was able to believe what it was implying, hinting at, even without the special effects to spell it all out before my eyes. So even now, I can still think about Solaris, what "reality" is like on that planet, that ocean. Mysterious.

KOKORO BY NATSUME SOSEKI

2010-05-14T18:37:00.000-07:00

when it rains it pours, right? and now, i will blog for the next three hours to reinstate my little to nonexistent presence here on this loved blog.

i'm not adding a pic because the only editions i could find online have super boring covers...and the blk/wht portrait of soseki himself won't make you wanna read him either.

let's just say, i read a third (or was it a quarter?) of norwegian wood. didn't like it. or maybe i read everything, or skimmed everything, and asked my boyfriend (the only other books i've known him to read from cover to cover is harry potter. ugh i should have known...) what happened in the end. because it's sort of like - well which one of the two girls does the main character get with in the end?? something i half-heartedly wanted to find out because i owed the book, or my one-third investment in it, at least some amount of curiosity, and to seek closure.

kokoro is NOT like norwegian wood. kokoro is SINCERE and BEAUTIFUL. it was written in the 1910s and translated into english (in the edition i read) in the 1950s. but the prose is so clean and fresh and modern. not modern in the clever syntactical, meta self referential, irony irony post modern literature kind of way. the language is simple, as is the story telling. but powerful and vivid. and the pace is cliffy-hangy. it's a page turner! a quick read, but leaves you with a good strong moral story. read it if not for the story, then for the aesthetic. after kokoro, i sampled a whole slew of novels, none of which i was able to get into because i found the language superfluous, and therefore tedious and petty.

Children of a Lesser God

2010-05-14T10:40:00.000-07:00

Inspiring teacher. Hot romance. A young William Hurt and a smokin’ sexy Marlee Matlin. Like, what is better? William Hurt is a teacher who takes a job at a deaf school. Marlee Matlin is a reportedly brilliant former student at the school who now works as a janitor. She’s deaf, and to assert some sort of power she believes she doesn’t really possess, she sleeps with guys. Deaf guys, hearing guys. Whatever. Hurt pushes his agenda of teaching the kids to vocally speak in order to give them more independence. And, he encourages his class to perform a song. They eventually learn to talk and sing. A lot of them come out of their shells, and it’s all very inspiring. As always, I like to get to the good part of the movie: Hurt and Matlin start a relationship. She is super sexy and, of course, they begin their love affair.

He respects her and sees her potential. This is a new phenomenon to Matlin, who is used to using sex for power and does not respond well to someone who encourages her to use her smarts and to assert her own independence. She’s used to using her body for power, for sex, for assertion. Hurt urges her to use her voice, but she refuses because she’s embarrassed by its sound. The scenes of Hurt and Matlin arguing in sign language are interesting because the characters are basically screaming by way of the use of their hands. No words are exchanged (although he does speak most of the time), but the energy they convey to one another is palpable, even through the silver screen. Sometimes, it’s difficult to switch up a mentality you’ve held for so long. Matlin has mastered her body and understands the power it can yield. It’s difficult to initially grasp that type of assertion, but once you do, it can feel way too vulnerable to unclamp that grip. Hurt is really asking too much of Matlin when he wants her to have sex without an agenda, when he wants her to let go of the grip, and when he wants her to speak his vocalized language. He’s the teacher. She’s the student. But, you know, that’s not really true because when it’s all said and done, she’s still the deaf janitor. And, when she’s in bed and the lights are out, Matlin is totally in control. I mean, I’d do her.

It can be seen as fetishising to give a deaf woman this sex ability. We can ask ourselves what it means to be turned on by this deaf woman who is powerful in the bedroom, but doesn’t speak. Would she be as hot if she were talking the whole time? No. (But, in all fairness, no one is as hot in bed when he or she is talking. I mean, even I—who never can shut up—know to be quiet. Well, I mean, I get the no-talking thing.) Maybe, we’re actually taking steps forward by sexing up a person with a disability. I think that’s a dangerous rationale to follow, though. I mean, making a movie about legless prostitutes doesn’t necessarily set the women’s movement or the a.c.l.u soaring ahead. But, who am I to make those claims? Maybe, stereotypes die only when we can picture having sex with the subordinated classes. Whatever the outcome, I’d be into seeing if that actually works. Sex on screen is never a bad thing. And, while we're on the subject, legless prostitutes are pretty hot, too.

The Hurt Locker

2010-05-08T21:34:00.000-07:00

I'll use director Kathryn Bigelow's own quote from imdb regarding The Hurt Locker, "War's dirty little secret is that some men love it. I'm trying to unpack why, to look at what it means to be a hero in the context of 21st-century combat." And, so goes The Hurt Locker. Before I watched it, I heard that there's no real commentary on the war in Iraq, that it's about a bomb detonator, and just about combat in general. Well, that sold me. I like movies about war. What I like more than movies about war, though, is a movie that does not tell me what to think about war, but shows me the most real moments without backing down. Thank you, Kathryn Bigelow. You had me at Point Break, but The Hurt Locker is an example of the best prose, the best art. It shows you and doesn't tell you.

Of course, there are lots of movies about the aftermath of war or even an inner dialogue of sorts on war (see: Born on the Fourth of July, Saving Private Ryan, or even Upon A Midnight Clear). In a way, The Hurt Locker reminded me more of In the Valley of Elah (starring Tommy Lee Jones and Charlize Theron), a film about a father who tries to figure out what happened to his son in Iraq. The footage of his m.i.a. son is clips of combat, of life in the desert among insurgents and friendly fire. The Hurt Locker blows that out and stays only in the danger zone. And, there, there's little room for reflection or even doubt.

In The Hurt Locker, we're thrust into the battle. We're in Iraq. There are bombs. The bombs need diffusing. Enter Sergeant Will James (Jeremy Renner). He's fearless in his job, and he gets it done. He's the best in the business. This movie's grittiness is its finest quality. We are totally in it with James, and--I have to say--I was on the edge of my seat. I get what the fuss is all about in regard to how some soldiers get addicted to the rush of war. They fall prey to the inevitable adrenaline rush that comes with risking life and avoiding death. Just watch this movie. Stay with it. I don't know if it will answer any questions about what we are actually doing in Baghdad or how we will ever win this unwinnable situation in which we find ourselves. I don't want to give anything away, but at one point in the movie, James is talking to his baby and he says that as we grow older, we love less and less things. I guess the world would be more satisfying if I thought that the one thing James loved was his baby. Unfortunately, the world is what it is.

The Cove

2010-05-08T13:40:00.000-07:00

The documentary, The Cove, is about the slaughter of innocents. After seeing this, you'll recognize the slaughter of your own innocence. I know! I know! That sounds too simplistically deep to have any meaning, but trust me; I mean it. Once you see this movie, I don't think you'll be able to go back to being complacent about anything regarding our environment or our people. The Cove is a story about a secret cove (but not secret enough, as it supplies dolphins to theme parks and fish markets around the globe) in Taiji, Japan. The fishermen trap the dolphins inside this enclosed body of water and then capture them or kill them. Only two options. They are never released back into the wild.

Ric (Richard) O'Barry was the original trainer of the 1960s t.v. show, Flipper. For something like nine years, he trained and lived with four female dolphins that collectively made up Flipper. He says in the documentary that he never really understood the suffering that the dolphins experienced--the depression, the stress--until he witnessed one of the Flipper dolphins, Cathy, commit suicide in his arms. A dolphin consciously takes a breath, and Cathy, due to her depression, chose not to breathe any more. He didn't become an activist against dolphin slaughter and dolphin captivity until years later. He's been at it now for over 35 years (trying to repair the damage he created by showing the world how cute and obedient and special dolphins are in captivity), and it is his life's mission to protect and save The Dolphin, a mammal as intelligent and self-aware as any human being.

Ric and his team--assembled of free divers, adrenaline junkies, movie prop guys, and other activists--travel to Taiji to expose the slaughter of the dolphins. Interlaced in the documentation of the team's efforts is a glimpse into the politics and procedures of the International Whaling Commission (IWC). The original purpose of the IWC, as I understand it, was to put a moratorium on the institutionalized whale slaughter. That ban has since lifted, and Japan is leading the way in its revitalization of whale killing and dolphin killing. In fact, Japan pays off poorer countries, like Barbados, to form allegiances with Japan regarding its whale policies. This (the IWC) just feels like a show of how governments really function--they do nothing to support or protect the people or the environment. That job is really left to The People. We humans are not necessarily the smartest beings on the planet, but we are certainly the ones most capable of saving the planet--mostly because we are the ones most responsible for systematically destroying it.

The Cove is not preach-y and it's not even that tragic in the way you might expect. Yes, we see the actual slaughter of the dolphins, and that is difficult to watch. But, the movie is almost a thriller in that half the battle of the filmmakers is even getting the footage. They are blocked at every avenue they attempt. The fishermen and the government prohibit photography in and around the cove, and they will attempt to arrest any activist or on-looker for nonsense charges. The movie deals with the slaughter of dolphins, of course, but it brings up a lot more issues that are as troubling--if not more so. For example, the ocean waters are so polluted that the fish and dolphins are considered toxic dumps that are full of mercury. The dolphin meat is being used as whale-substitutes to ignorant consumers and even as routine lunch menus in schools. We are poisoning our children because mercury poisoning causes mental retardation as well as physical paralysis and other problems.

I've seen dolphins and whales in the wild. I've swum in the presence of dolphins. One of my favorite surf spots in San Onofre (Southern California) was frequented daily by a pod of dolphins. They fearlessly swam right by the waiting surfers and even took turns in the waves. So, to see the torture and slaughter of dolphins was really painful. I can't even look at Sea World--basically a torture chamber for marine mammals--the same way again. The Cove just really opened my eyes about how we are behaving as people and as governments. To this day--even with this documentary out winning awards and being seen by many--the slaughter continues. The poisoning of people and the earth continues. I know I sound simple or sentimental, but I feel like if we don't start to care about health and safety of ourselves and our environment, there really will come a time when we will not be able to reverse any of the damage we've caused. I just want to be more like Ric O'Barry. I want to start fighting for the health of our planet, and not mind the risk I might face. For more information about the cove and what you can do, please visit: http://www.takepart.com/thecove/

what comes around

2010-04-18T19:25:00.000-07:00

Moving to a new place is weird cuz you don't know the streets...You don't know how to pronounce "Schuykill"; you don't know which food trucks will give you food poisoning..but most importantly, you don't know the RADIO STATIONS. It's unexplored terrain and it's frighteningly vast. Yeah, I know there's satellite radio and this new thing called the IPOD but AM/FM radio is so powerful because it's contextual. Coming from Los Angeles, I was totally spoiled by KCRW, which had the perfect mix of liberal news coverage and kick ass music. When I lived in Berkeley, I fell in love with KMEL and Energy 92.7. KMEL was your run of the mill top 40 hip hop station but on Sunday evenings they had this program "Street Soldiers" where reformed gang members would talk about their experiences. A lot of frustrated mothers and grandmothers would call in and talk about their children and grandchildren. It was just perfection. Oh god, a quick Google search has informed me that Street Soldiers was cancelled. F*** corporate radio! Well, Energy was an amazing dance station partial to electronica, house and techno. Imagine you're at a gay club. Then imagine it is playing the best dance music on earth. Then imagine you didn't have to pay a cover; you only needed to turn on the radio! It provided the soundtrack for many late night impromptu dance parties during my college years. A quick google search has informed me that ENERGY 92.7 HAS BEEN REPLACED BY A TOP 40 HIP HOP STATION. WHY?!! It was dubbed "the little gay station that could." But, I guess it couldn't...Ugh...okay I will try to continue writing but I'm pretty upset...RIP Energy...

Now I live in Philadelphia and I'm trying to get a handle of the radio stations. Of course there's the local NPR station that provides stimulating news coverage...and I've found a good station that plays only Al Green on repeat it seems. But the station I think I'm falling in love with? WKDU...A COLLEGE RADIO STATION. Yes, college radio... The dregs of music. Entire shows devoted to Hungarian synth pop and annoyingly obscure B sides. When I was a Berkeley student I avoided the local college radio station like the plague. The DJs were too knowing and I was a little hater. But now that I am older and wiser, man, college radio is the sh*t. Punk's not dead! F*ck the police! Yeah! I'm making up for lost time...

Mrs. Dalloway

2010-04-14T17:26:00.000-07:00

There is a bookstore in a college town (the same college I attended) that sells novels and,then, exclusively books on how to garden. It's called Mrs. Dalloway's. On one of the walls of the store is painted the first sentence of the book,"Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself." I used to ride my bicycle by that store a lot, and I would wonder how they got away with calling the store Mrs. Dalloway's. What about copyright? What about decency? I mean, I wandered in the bookstore once to look around. I was just totally grossed out. To reduce the book, Mrs. Dalloway, to a story about flowers and then to build a store around it seemed sacrilegious. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf is not really at all about flowers. And, it is certainly not about gardening.

I read this book in my junior seminar of an English Literature program at school. We were encouraged to explore Woolf's mindset at the time of writing this, along with pertinent themes in the novel. I went wild with that freedom, writing a convoluted, lengthy paper about not only the female relationships in Mrs. Dalloway, but about how Virginia Woolf, herself, actually cherished, appreciated, and respected intimate relationships that women (in general) had with each other over Woolf's respect for the boring relationships between men and women.

I can't even believe I not only worked long and hard on such an absurd topic, but that I had the audacity to turn it in. My professor, after allowing me to drone on and on, finally looked at me and asked, "What is it about female relationships that YOU see as so appealing?" and "What about the intimacy of two women potentially in love is so daunting to you? Could it be that it is too close to your own feelings?" She really didn't have to say more. I was spending lots of time pouring over Mrs. Dalloway, searching for the legitimization of female relationships. I did this not to understand Woolf's frame of mind or her writing style, but to understand my own mindset.

That is what Mrs. Dalloway may do for you. There are so many layers to this novel (and even the connotation of layers has layers) that you may find yourself reading it all the way through only to highlight especially touching phrases. I know that it must have helped me tremendously to study this book in a class and have my professor on hand for discussion and questions. But, you can still read this on your own. When, after you get done reading all the way through, you go back and look at sections you starred or underlined, ask yourself why that particular passage meant so much. Maybe you won't have Professor Abel asking you the tough questions, but, when it comes right down to it, you are already asking them of yourself for yourself.

Dixie Carter (Designing Women)

2010-04-12T17:50:00.000-07:00

Designing Women was a bit like the poor man's Golden Girls. Younger, but not sassier. These ladies ran some sort of design business, I guess. But, you know they were always sitting around with each other, drinking tea and talking. I mentioned to a friend that Designing Women seemed sort of surface-y and not very important. He reminded me about the themes that ran rampant in the series. I mean, we have working, independent, mostly single (some mothers) women. There was a gay, black employee named Anthony. Okay, I guess it really wasn't all that progressive. I mean, a gay interior decorator isn't really revolutionary. And, I think that Anthony had a police record that was addressed in passing in one or two of the episodes. I really hope that Anthony's character was an attempt to showcase characters of different backgrounds and not a nod to racism. I'm in an optimistic mood, so I'll give Designing Women the benefit of the doubt.

As I'm sure you've heard by now, Dixie Carter (who played Julia Sugarbaker) recently passed away. I really didn't know much about her aside from her role on Designing Women (and a really great t.v. movie starring Shannen Doherty and Kevin Dillon called Gone In the Night) and that she was married to Hal Holbrook. Well, sometimes after someone passes, you learn a lot more about her or his life than you knew when s/he was alive. That's true for celebrities and non-celebrities. I learned that Dixie didn't meet and marry Hal until she was in her forties. That really does warm my heart. To think that she could find some sort of career success, have children and then meet her soul mate really makes me believe that life is always worth living because you never know where or when you'll find love. I don't care if I'm reaching when I call them soul mates. I don't care if I sound corny. I remember seeing Dixie and Hal in interviews, and they seemed like they really adored one another. Of course, the love between this couple makes Dixie's death all the more sad.

I know this sounds selfish and maybe even morbid, but when I hear about a celebrity who has died, I search my brain, trying to remember if I liked her in a certain role or how she was connected to my life in some way, even by way of the television. I have to say that I felt like Dixie's passing was sort of emotional in a very selfish way because I really didn't think too much of Dixie's daughters or her own loved ones. I thought about the love that she and Hal had. I thought about how that same sort of love still has the potential to show up in my own life. Though it may sound self-absorbent, I really feel like Dixie's passing allowed my heart to open a little more. Love. Love love love. Is there anything more important, more valuable? I hope not.

Sometimes, words move me so much

2010-04-11T15:52:00.000-07:00

Yeah I know. Where's the review of Crazy Heart? What about the 10 most badass film heroines?

Fail. I know. But I can't make every trip here an apology.

Maus, the comic book by Art Spiegelman is one of my favorite books of all time. A story within a story, Spiegelman writes and draws about his dad's Holocaust experience. Jews are represented as mice, Nazis--cats.

Did I mention I have a mouse problem? I should say "mice problem" but the plural is so much more daunting. So, I have a mouse problem. Today my landlord said: "This is not an accusation but no one else in the building has reported mice problems." ANY SENTENCE THAT STARTS OFF WITH "THIS IS NOT AN ACCUSATION" IS VERY CLEARLY AN ACCUSATION. Does he think I am lying about a mouse problem? That I enjoy CALLING my LANDLORD? Talking to one's landlord is way up there with going to the dentist or watching "Thirtysomething" (Why Hershkowitz/Zwick? Why??) Or rather, that I am a pig, a slob, an unrepentant frat boy? Ugh...

Back to Maus. There's one passage that gets me every time. Art is talking to his therapist, discussing his forthcoming comic book about the Holocaust.
Here is the exchange:

Therapist: So, do you admire your father for surviving?
Art: Well...sure. I know there was a lot of LUCK involved, but he was amazingly present-minded and resourceful...
Therapist: Then you think it's admirable to survive. Does that mean its NOT admirable to NOT survive?
Art: whooosh...I-I think I see what you mean. It's as if life equals winning and death equals losing.
Therapist: Yes. Life always takes the side of life, and somehow the victims are blamed. But it wasn't the BEST people who survived, nor did the best ones die. It was RANDOM!
Therapist: Sigh. I'm not talking about YOUR book now, but look at how many books have already been written abou the Holocaust...What's the point? People haven't changed...Maybe they need a new, bigger Holocaust.
Therapist: Anyway, the victims who died can never tell THEIR side of the story, so maybe it's better not to have any more stories.
Art: Uh-huh. Samuel Beckett once said: Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.
Art: On the other hand, he SAID it.

How perfect the passage is. How masterfully Spiegelman mixes in the weightiest concerns in the world with a dose of ultra reflexive humor. I won't describe it too much. What's that quote? Trying to talk about art is like trying to dance about architecture.

The Bad Seed

2010-04-10T22:07:00.001-07:00

It feels strange to review this movie because I feel like it's inevitable that you've seen it. The Bad Seed. I loved this movie when I was a kid. But, now that I think about it, I really don't even know if it's a kids' movie or not. But, I never liked anything deemed to be normal in terms of movies of television shows for kids. I mean, my 10 year old cousin watches everything on the Nickelodeon channel or whatever it's called and I KNOW that I NEVER would have watched any of those kid shows. I'm not even nostalgic for Full House. That's how snobby I am.

The Bad Seed is arguably my favorite movie in the world. It was made in 1956. (I think there's a remake out there that you could not pay me to see.) I think it was originally a play because that's how the movie is set up. There's basically one set--an apartment living room. And, at the end, the cast comes and takes a bow. So, onto the story. It is great in that it's really evil and creepy. Rhoda is the little girl. She's angelic--blonde, braided hair and a perfect dress. She goes to a class picnic where a little boy drowns. How can I put this? He wins a medal. Rhoda wanted that medal. Rhoda--the little sociopath--gets what she wants at whatever cost. Get it?

Rhoda's mother and the nice neighbor lady adore Rhoda. She's perfect. She rubs her mother's neck, saying "Oh mother. I have the most beautiful mother. I tell all of my friends at school that." Well, as time goes on, the mother grows suspicious of Rhoda. She wonders how Rhoda got her hands on that dead boy's medal. So does LeRoy, the maintenance man in the apartment complex. He tells Rhoda that he saw her throw her bloody shoes (from pummeling the boy from the picnic and then pushing him into the lake to die) down the incinerator. Remember that it's the 1950s and there was one incinerator for garbage for the entire apartment complex. LeRoy is totally creepy himself and he reminds me of a guy who served time for a nonviolent crime and needs a job while he's out on parole. LeRoy's always sort of baiting Rhoda to confess about the shoes and Rhoda never quite gives in. But, she does need to protect herself and her crimes. Yep, you guessed it. She takes care of LeRoy--showing him how powerful that incinerator really is.

The best character is the little dead boy's mother. She comes over to visit Rhoda's mother. She's on to Rhoda and she's pretty vocal about suspecting her of killing her son because Rhoda was the last person seen with him. This lady is drunkety drunk drunk in most every scene and she plays it perfect. Just unappealing enough to make you uncomfortable, but not so belligerent to let you forget that she's a grieving mother.

Rhoda is a bad, bad, bad girl. She's evil to the core and does her best to behave like an angel to the people who matter--like her mother and the neighbor. I won't tell you what happens to little Rhoda at the end. I'll just say that her mother attempts to right wrongs. But, come on, Rhoda is the devil's spawn. She's too powerful to be conquered. And, anyway, sinners are way more fun, right?

My Own Private Idaho

2010-04-07T15:39:00.000-07:00

Today was a My Own Private Idaho kind of day. I just felt the need to look up photos of some of the most beautiful boys (possibly, probably) in all the universe. Oh, I am still hot for you, Keanu Reeves and River Phoenix (circa 1991...But, let's face it, Keanu; if I see you in the right light and in the right role, you are still perfection to me). My Own Private Idaho is so much in my subconscience that I feel like I've already written about it here on Images Move Me. Maybe, I've referenced it, if only to myself while writing about other art. Truth be told, I've referenced this movie my whole life; I've compared every love affair and every longing I've ever felt to the relationship between Mike and Scott (Keanu and River).

My Own is directed by Gus Van Sant. Later, he directed Good Will Hunting. My Own is, like, the antithesis of Good Will Hunting. (By the way, that is the best compliment I can give to My Own.) Where Good Will Hunting is about angry, young men with all of the potential and smarts in the world, My Own is about two men--one of whom has very little potential on the outside world, but has a mess of longing and tenderness on the inside. River Phoenix plays his character, Mike, with all of the fragility that warrants an honest lover. Looks really do go far in this movie, but plot counts, too. It's like looking at an interesting painting. You get kind of lost in it.

My Own is a take on the Shakespeare play, Henry IV. (Shakespeare even gets a writing credit; it's that close.) In college, I was forced against my will to take a Shakespeare class, and I kicked and screamed the whole way through. So, I say My Own is Shakespeare only begrudgingly. It's really Van Sant and the beauty of Keanu and River. The plot goes something like this: Scott (Keanu) is a rich, snobby kid who has a trust fund-life set up for him by his father. He goes off on his own for a bit, embarrassing his father and his father's name. Scott takes up with some deviants--some male prostitutes who work the streets sucking dicks for money. Mike (the late River Phoenix) is a gay prostitute who befriends Scott and then falls in love with him. Scott says he's straight, but he sort of does/doesn't have a love affair with Mike. Mike's life is kind of disturbing and complicated, and I don't want to give anything away about his family life. Let's just say that his narcolepsy is an effect of his conception. Scott and Mike travel to find Mike's mom and then end up in Italy.

The sex scenes are shot like works of art. Like still photographs. They are in black and white (if I remember correctly) and the sex with the two men (as well as with Scott and a woman) is shot all the same way in this form. The lighting is perfect and serene. We never see the act. We see choice positions, and imagining what takes place instead of being told in pictures is more satisfying somehow in this intimate movie.

If you've read Henry IV, you know where this is going. You know about Scott's familial obligations and that Mike is the metaphor for the gritty, lusty life societal standards will not let him lead. But, it's beautiful. And tragic. And hard to forget.

Salt N Pepa

2010-04-01T22:45:00.000-07:00

Babes with bangin' bodies are images that really do move me. I'm craving them. Yeah, women like this are in real life, but what I want is some tough women on television. I want to be able to watch them, mouth gaping open, without feeling awkward for staring. I want to admire. I want to lust. Basically, I want Salt N Pepa back.

Salt N Pepa was a bad-ass girl group in the mid-1980s that lasted until about 1995. And, I think by the mid-1990s, they were pretty much done. Oh my, these women were FINE. Brassy, ballsy, frank and hot. Enough saucy adjectives for you? Salt N Pepa were pretty much best friends and they were rappers. Their DJ was Spinderella, another woman. Their music videos featured these sexy ladies in tight little jean cut-offs or spandex suits. They were athletic, strong, curvy, and--best of all--totally into showing their bodies. They sang songs like, "Push It" (my personal favorite) and "Let's Talk About Sex." Yes, I KNOW it was the '90s, and messages about safe and positive sex were all the rage, but this was a woman duo singing for their sisters. Did I mention, "If I wanna take a guy home with me tonight, it's none of your business"? The song drips with female empowerment and entitlement--elements we are seriously lacking in the year 2000 and way beyond. And, that is really disturbing and disappointing. I want that full blooded female type back.

The only way Britney Spears could have embodied a little bit of that good arrogance was if, when she shaved her head, she actually went around with a shaved head and prominantly displayed it. She could have been liberated and ditched the tired blonde hair. But, no. Instead, she donned a weave and called it a day, depriving us women of witnessing a "fuck you" to societal beauty standards and, possibly, a nod to the guts and beauty that was Salt N Pepa. I mean, Britney totally could have pulled off having a curvy, strong body. She just wouldn't push herself enough. And, so, we are stuck with the likes of Katy Perry--who is never raunchy enough and who insults a boy by saying he has pms. That's not empowering to women. That's degrading. And, big deal...you kissed a girl and loved cherry chapstick (one of the lamest lines ever!). I mean, who has NOT kissed a girl? Believe me, the chapstick or lipstick just gets in the way.

So, I want my buxom, bold rap stars or singers or actresses back. I want to ogle their goodies. I want to want a woman with shape, with arrogance, with power. But, in the mean time, I'll watch old videos of Salt N Pepa to tide me over until the next wave of female empowerment comes. It's got to be soon. I mean, we're way over due.

I've been a bad, bad blogger

2010-03-30T11:14:00.000-07:00

I know! I know! Kathleen is shouldering this beautiful load all by herself. Aileen and I come in every 3 months and sprinkle some fairy dust and call it a day. It's not fair. It's just that I can't write when I don't feel true to myself. And I often don't feel true to myself.

The other day Aileen asked me what creative outlets I have. Urm...creative? I told her that I've been writing really bad poetry, which is true. Emphasis on BAD. As for movies, I don't think that Season 5 of Grey's Anatomy counts as good filmmaking so I can't review that.

But I have been moved. Here are some things that I've been moved by recently:
1. The comics of Jaime Hernandez, specifically--Love and Rockets. Sometimes bi-sexual punk rocker Latina roommates living in So Cal? Yes please!
2. Fiona Apple--either Aileen or another good friend forwarded me a Fiona Apple interview in which she said something like "Every girl in fucking America has an eating disorder." I watch Criminal on youtube upwards of 5x daily.
3. Jacob Have I Loved. Young adult fiction is so good. So good because is teaches you a Lesson and not many teach as well as Katherine Paterson. I have definitely subjected more than a few people to a very detailed plot synopsis of this gem. Damn, it's good. Paterson respects her audience and she writes about really weighty subjects--but never gratuitiously. 14 y/o girl falls for a 70 y/o man and hates her perfect twin sister? Paterson never makes it trashy but she doesn't skimp on details.
4. Ciara--the princess is here! I'm really confused because Ciara was amazing. What happened to her? 1,2 Step, Oh, My Goodies, and Like a Boy were pitch perfect. And she's one of the best dancers of our generation. She breaks AND pops and locks. (she might be better than Janet...I say this in an apologetic whisper) And Like a Boy is a BETTER VERSION OF BEYONCE'S LIKE A MAN SONG. Why? Oh Why do we have B and not Ciara?
5. The Ichigeki performance at Battle of the Year 2005. In 2006-7 I was obsessed with breakdancing and I watched Planet BBoy everyday. Or nearly everyday. Or parts of it everyday. Point is--I watched it a lot. Recently, I rewatched the Ichigeki performance. It's amazing. Maybe it's because you don't often see Asian men being lauded for athleticism or something. But this performance moved mountains. It's part break dance part interpretive dance. I will even forgive their using Linkin Park for part of the performance. Sometimes foreigners just don't understand.
6. This one line from American Pastoral. I'm paraphrasing but it goes something like "underneath the surface there was just more surface." You meet someone and you talk to them and you realize that underneath the surface there is, what the hell?, more surface?! But Zuckerman wasn't right in American Pastoral. Maybe the surface is hiding deep reserves of pain? That's what I hope.
7. Say Anything. Lili Taylor. I die.
8. Enter the Ninja by Die Antwoord. Hip hop art school drop outs from South Africa. I know I'm 3 months too late to jump on the bandwagon but the video is some of the best art I've seen in months. Note--I've not viewed any art in months, as well.

The Savages

2010-03-28T09:29:00.000-07:00

It's difficult for me to watch depressing movies. And, the most depressing to me is a movie about someone losing her or his mind to mental illness or dementia. So, I was reluctant to watch The Savages. Lucky for me, though, it is not depressing at all. It's kind of inspiring and funny. I really loved this movie.

The Savages stars Laura Linney and Philip Seymor Hoffman as brother and sister writers who live in New York. Their father, Lenny Savage, played by Philip Bosco (the cop in Three Men and a Baby), lives in Florida when his woman friend dies. He has dementia and has begun to write on the walls in his excrement. Needless to say, the woman companion's own kids do not want to take care of Lenny. So, Lenny's grown children, Wendy (Laura Linney) and Jon (PSH), are forced to figure something out. They bring Lenny back to New York and put him in a nursing home. Wendy's reluctant to leave him in a place that's affordable but crowded, but Jon says rather convincingly that all the "homes" are the same. The fancier ones just make you feel better about abandoning your parent.

And, Lenny is cared for in the facility. He's not particularly friendly and his dementia is making him more ornery. There's a great scene where he's all proud of Jon for becoming a doctor. But, what he doesn't realize is that Jon holds a Ph.D. in literature and not an M.D. Lenny gets all mad and Jon takes it all with a grain of salt because what else can you do with a mean old man of a father who is basically confined to a bed? It's not worth it to fight any more.

The main characters of Jon and Wendy are just really great--meaning Linney and Hoffman are perfect in their roles. They are trying to be good children to their dad in the present, but it's difficult to discount how the dad has acted in the past. He was apparently abusive and both Jon and Wendy are forced to reconcile with that while making productive lives for themselves. They are closed off in a way from love--as Jon cannot tell his girlfriend how much he really loves her and Wendy has an affair with a married man.

The great thing about The Savages is that there are no big life lessons to learn from the kids having to put their dad in a home. They do it because there is no other option. This just shows that they are responsible adults who have found love and support from one another as brother and sister as opposed to relying on parents for such a foundation. They are really strong, and in the end, they both find the courage to follow their own trajectories. This is just an honest movie with substantial characters. The honesty makes it funny, and I found myself laughing at the absurdity of what life hands us sometimes. We all make our own way and sometimes a difficult past ultimately makes us better artists and better people. And, putting your parent in a home can be a loving and responsible gesture. I mean, we sometimes label responsibility as love and vice versa. And, you know what? That's okay.

Hard Candy

2010-03-26T09:10:00.000-07:00

Ellen Page will fuck you up in Hard Candy. And, she might even make you hard. This is not the same girl who got knocked up in Juno and who never--to the praise of conservatives everywhere--seriously considered having an abortion. Yes, in Juno, Page was ballsy and outspoken in a snarky, ultimately appealing way. However, Hard Candy is the Ellen Page before she got it on with uber wimp, Bleeker.

Let me tell you, this is totally the Page I prefer--muscle-y with a butch dyke haircut. She really doesn't look frail and little here, as she does in her other movies. Her bravado adds five inches to her height and twenty pounds to her frame. Easily. Hard Candy is a vehicle for Page at her best. She plays the changeling, and I'll only say a little more about plot because the movie is better if you don't know too much about the story line.

Hard Candy starts out with Page meeting a lover or a friend or someone she's clearly only met virtually and not in person. The hunky, older man ends up taking Page home, and it's evident that he is attempting to get her drunk with the intent to get her into bed. (And, homeboys, for all of you who do not know, that is called rape. Any time you have sex with someone who is intoxicated--even if you are, too--that act can be construed as rape.) So, he fills her drinks and plays loud music. Then, the turn comes. So, no more talking about the plot. Instead, I'll talk about the tone.

Page sets the tone in that she (and, by extension, the movie) is methodical and plotting. There's no sex, per se, but the sexual organs are definitely involved. Well, less than involved; they're more like innocent bystanders who may not be so innocent after all. Think of Page as the ultimate master in sadomasochism. She's sexy as the dominant one, and her total commitment to the sexual games may get you off as the watcher. Don't be alarmed; we're all freaks at heart. It's just that in the sex games the characters play, there is no safe word.

Spellbound

2010-03-21T08:41:00.000-07:00

Most movies about kids, in order to showcase their talents, are about the praising of physical attributes--Little Giants, The Sandlot, Rookie of the Year. This movie is different because intelligence is celebrated, and kids get to show their stuff by way of a public arena--a spelling bee. Spellbound is a documentary that follows eight children as they prepare for the national spelling bee in Washington, D.C.

They are kids from all different backgrounds and it's really interesting to see how they each ready her or himself for this really stressful competition that is televised. (If you've never seen the spelling bee on television, you should. It's kind of fun to try to spell words that you've probably never heard of. I mean, the kids ask for the language of origin or to use the word in a sentence, and, frankly, I can't even fathom how that helps because the words are difficult. These kids are smart.) Some kids have parents that can afford to hire professional coaches; some kids have public school teachers that don't know where to begin, and so they open a dictionary at random and begin to quiz the students; some kids have parents that do not speak English and simply have an affinity for language; some kids relish in the act of studying and have taken it upon themselves to take their love of words and carve out their own study habits.

The thing is, it doesn't matter if the children are rich or poor, if they're privileged or not. Regardless if they have parents who have the resources to pay 1,000 people to pray for their success or not, these kids still have to work. They work really hard to learn the words and to understand languages in order to figure out the roots of the words. Spellbound lets us understand that class lines dissolve when the end product really is how well the kids know their stuff. And, they all know it. They all work hard and sacrifice to study.

Spellbound is really refreshing in how it showcases children ages 11-14. These kids are individuals. They know they're different in terms of how they approach the world and how they understand words and meanings, and are so driven to study and work hard. A lot of the kids feel like outcasts in their own schools and in their respective social circles because they are so unique and smart. A nice moment in the movie is when the children meet one another at the spelling bee in Washington, D.C. They are suddenly surrounded by other kids their age who are as smart, as driven, and as unique as them. They love it. They feel part of a community, and witnessing that validation is really rewarding for the audience.

A couple of years ago, I read an article about the adult lives of the national spelling bee contestants and winners. All of the kids grow up to live good, productive lives. They grow into good people who have come to terms with (and, subsequently, celebrated) their individuality and passion. Spellbound, at its core, is about eight smart, likeable, good kids. It's good to see their intelligence celebrated, and the spelling bee is a perfect way because it has all the drama of sports--only, the physical attributes are all in the mind.

One True Thing

2010-03-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

I'm not telling you anything you don't already know: the book is better. I mean, it always is. That's why I really didn't care for this movie at all when I first saw it. But, then, I saw One True Thing again and realized that it is best when it stands alone from the book. That, and it's actually pointedly close to real life and completely relateable on a mother-daughter basis.

Anna Quindlen wrote One True Thing, and I believe it referenced the real-life illness of her mother along with Quindlen's daughterly duties to care for her. The truth is prevalent on every page. Quindlen never shies away from revealing how difficult and self-shattering it can be to do what is right and what is expected as opposed to what you actually want to do. It's all so tied together. That honesty was apparent and intimate on the page, and I found it difficult to translate that emotion of Quindlen's to the silver screen. However, the movie offers the same types of raw moments that are prevalent in mother-daughter relationships, which are sometimes difficult and painful to navigate.

One True Thing stars Renee Zellwegger as Ellie, a Harvard-educated, ambitious New York writer. She is different from her mother (played by Meryl Streep), a homemaker without the sophisticated smarts that her daughter possesses. Ellie must come home to run the household when her mother is diagnosed with cancer.

When I saw this movie, I was a teenager and did not really understand the dynamics of a mother-daughter relationship in the context of adulthood (of both women). And, now that I am grown, I appreciate One True Thing in a whole new way. When your mother is content and happy to raise babies and keep a house, you, as a daughter, feel deviant (and, I'm talking about the bad kind of deviant here) and maybe even unwomanly for first despising that ambition and seeing the existence of a homemaker as trite and oppressive, and then feeling guilty for wanting a bigger life and denouncing the woman (and your mom's behavior) of rearing a child who has subsequently sought those big goals and big life. Those are the types of things that Ellie deals with in regard to her mother. I especially commend Zellwegger here for allowing Ellie to be a little ugly in her judgments of her mother as well as letting Ellie be so vulnerable as to question the validity of the path she has taken, which is at the other extreme of her mother's.

I do admit that this movie--and, especially, the book--is more meaningful if your mother actually does become ill and you take on the responsibility of caring for her. In that case, you'll see how incredibly hard it is to step into the role of caretaker and homemaker when that goal was never your goal to begin with. Regardless if you are encountered with that sort of situation or not, One True Thing is an honest look at relationships. I know everyone says mother-daughter relationships are difficult, but this movie reveals this in a new way. Ellie is forced to go home, forced to confront the truths about her family and the ways in which she always regarded her mother. Sometimes, we're not always right about the past. It can be insightful to actually acknowledge the truth, no matter the consequences.

Goodbye Corey Haim.

2010-03-12T20:15:00.000-08:00

In third and fourth grade, my best friend and I used to sleep over at each other's houses every weekend. We would usually rent a movie, and when we were at my friend's house, we always had to rent a PG rated movie. But, one weekend my friend's parents were out of town and so her grandparents were babysitting. So, my friend and I got to sleep in her parents' bed and watch television in their room. It was our chance to watch a PG-13 (which, in all honesty, wasn't that big of a deal since we could watch R-rated movies at my house). We decided to rent Lucas because it was not rated G and because it starred Corey Haim. And, even though I had seen Lucas before, there was something very special about watching this touching movie, Lucas, while lying in bed, eating popcorn, and snuggling up to my best friend in the world. That, I think, is the perfect way to be introduced to Corey Haim.

On March 10, 2010, Corey Haim died at the age of 38. I know that you may only remember him as seen on television during the last 10 or so years. He always appeared slightly bloated and seriously high. It was always sad to see him in that state when you remembered how good he was as a little boy actor. Corey first started out in First Born, a movie starring Terri Garr, where her boyfriend was an abuser. That movie is so old and wasn't super popular. I remember watching pieces of it on t.v. and being sort of drawn to little Corey. Appealing, he was.

Corey's most known movies are Lucas, where he played a too-smart-for-his-own-good kid who falls in love with a new girl at school, and The Lost Boys, where Corey played a knowledgeable boy about vampires who moves to a town where he's surrounded by bloodsuckers. Roger Ebert, in Corey's Los Angeles Times obituary, was referenced as saying how promising and real Corey Haim was in Lucas, and how complex and believable he was able to make the title role. Of course, Roger would say it best. Corey DID seem promising and for a while it all worked out. The Lost Boys was a popular movie and he was good in it, managing to hold his own with an impressive cast: Keifer Sutherland, Jason Patric, Jamie Gertz, and Dianne Wiest, to name a few. The Lost Boys has a sort of dreary mood to it. The first time I heard The Doors was in the soundtrack to The Lost Boys. "People are strange and when you're a stranger...faces look ugly when you're alone...women seem wicked..." I couldn't even listen to that song when I was little without burying my head in my pillow. Around The Lost Boys is when Corey started hanging around Corey Feldman (as he was in The Lost Boys in a smaller part) because they soon were billed as the Two Coreys. (And, years and years later, there was a show on VH1 or MTV or Lifetime or something about the Two Coreys living together...very painful to watch.)

When Corey was still a teenager, he made movies like License to Drive and Dream A Little Dream with Corey Feldman. These movies...ugh...just the absolute bottom of the barrel. See, Corey Haim was billed as a heartthrob and probably graced a few covers of Tigerbeat. However, Haim never really should have been categorized as that. Okay, you know how lackluster Freddie Prinze Jr. and Adrian Grenier are? Like, they are total wet rags, yes? Well, Haim wasn't like that. He had a bit of adolescent charisma and believability that has been seriously lacking in so-called heartthrobs since the late 1980s. Haim just sort of got roped into these "teenage" movies. He was better than them. And, maybe, that's where things started to go wrong with the drugs and the lack of movie roles for anyone with some talent.

Of course, I had a hunch that he was on drugs just from video clips. But, when I checked him out on imdb, I learned that he fairly recently had to file for bankruptcy and just seemed not at all in a good place. Is it wrong to bottle someone's best years--to appreciate Haim only as the promising little boy actor he once was--and discount the rest? I don't know. I guess we'll never know the real Corey. I mean, imdb only gives us movie credits and some choice life events. That's not all there is to him. And, we'll remember much more. We all have our own references for first knowing Corey Haim. If yours is seeing him on a VH1 special of "Child Stars: Where Are They Now," then you need to get a new reference. If nothing else, watch Haim in Lucas. There's a really great scene where he takes his crush through the shallow underground sewer to arrive below an orchestra playing outside in a summer show. Lucas and his crush, Maggie, sit back-to-back, listening to the music. And, you might fall in love with Corey Haim as he plays the character, Lucas, falling in love with a pretty and kind girl.

I will remember Corey Haim. Rest in peace. 12/27/1971 - 03/10/2010

Corey Haim Tribute...soon

2010-03-12T03:51:00.000-08:00

Dear reader(s), please be patient. I am working on a Corey Haim tribute.

Back to Old School

2010-03-09T09:52:00.000-08:00

You know how we're all infiltrated with prom movies? Well, it's pretty much the same way with movies about going back to college. First, we are taught that life is not worth living after high school. Then, you might as well slit your wrists after college. That, or somehow go back to college. Go back to a way of life that is available to a person for a fragmented time period. Is it really THAT good? Casual sex, drinking, late night talks with roommates, pressure, being away from home. Okay, it IS. It is. You got me. But, why do the boy characters have such a monopoly on this type of movie? Girls get the proms--the weddings, and boys get the fun--the college. It hardly seems balanced, but there you have it. Okay, on to my review/comparison of two movies, one of which is stellar: Back to School and Old School.

Back to School is a 1980s Rodney Dangerfield vehicle. He's ugly; he's rude; he's ridiculous. And, of course, he's funny. No joke; he is. Rodney plays Thornton Melon, a rich guy who sees that his son is struggling at college. Even though Thornton has made big bucks, he never got a college education. Thornton comes to school, bunks in a dorm next to his son's, totally revamps it to look like a nice apartment, joins the diving team, and manages to hire famous authors and scientists to do his work for him. He romances the Literature professor and pisses off her lover. Thornton, threatened with the prospect of being thrown out of school, **SPOILER** finally starts doing his own work and, consequently, realizes his own worth. Back to School has funny moments; he has a secretary attend his class for him (and it's the secretary from Ferris Bueller's Day Off...priceless); he's falling asleep in the shower while he's studying books. There is also a sort of sad, sweet quality to the movie when Thornton figures out that his son is sort of a loser and not the big-time fraternity guy he told his dad he was.

Old School (2003) is another movie where the grown men go back to college in an effort to capture what they no longer have as married, career people. They don't attend classes, but start a fraternity for students and nonstudents for brotherhood and an overall excuse to party and live like they are 20 years old...you know, casual sex, drinking, drugs, fun. This movie, of course, stars younger guys in their 30s and the vibe is totally different than in Back to School. The men (Luke Wilson, the delicious Vince Vaughn, and Will Ferrell) have already been through school. They are looking to escape their lives. So, there's no real soul searching that takes place, if you don't count (and I don't) a badly cast Ellen Pompeo as a wet noodle love interest of Luke Wilson. That storyline is unnecessary and doesn't really work. She cannot hold a candle to Juliette Lewis, Luke Wilson's ex-girlfriend in the movie who plays a sexually-adventurous kind of gal.

Don't get me wrong; Old School is funny. I just think it's funny in a "dick-joke" sort of way, meaning it's really for boys to laugh at and for boys to understand more. I mean, they get laid, the girl characters are an after thought, and it's all about being in a suspended pubescent, teenage boy state. Like I said, there are funny parts, but it's all cliche and tired. Listen, both the movies are funny and they obviously play into the normal themes you'd find in any back-to-college movie. I just think that Back to School is a much better movie all around. Of course, there's adolescent humor and silly antics (Rodney Dangerfield's diving board stunt is kind of priceless), but it's not alienating to the girls or to not-hot guys like Old School is. I mean, Rodney Dangerfield was supremely ugly and he knew it. That self-deprecation was his greatest asset--both in his stand-up and in this movie. Plus, Back to School has so many great cameos--Robert Downey Jr. as the son's friend, the villain (Daniel's nemesis) from The Karate Kid as the villain, and--oh, yeah--Kurt Vonnegut. You'll have fun. And, don't worry, guys...you'll still see your share of naked girls. Thankfully, though, they won't be sleeping with Rodney.

The ambiance counts big time.

2010-03-07T10:11:00.000-08:00

The presentation of space makes all the difference. It has an effect of calming you or making you crazy. When I was in college, I took a class that I expected to like because of the subject-matter, 16th century plays (not for everyone, I realize). The professor was interesting on a theoretical level, but every time I stepped into the classroom, I became anxious and irritated. I didn't understand why until one time we had to have the class in another room. You see, the normal classroom had desks that were not nailed to the floor. People would intentionally or inadvertently move the desks to adjust themselves. Consequently, the rows became nonexistent and the desks were all scattered, all over the place. No order. Once, when we had to switch classrooms, we went to a room where the rows were stationary and the desks were all nailed down into perfect rows, evenly spaced and permanent. I felt more calm and structured in that one class than I had all semester. It was the space, I realized. The space made all the difference.

This appreciation of space is how I felt when I went to see a jazz band. I don't really like jazz; I don't understand the importance of the riffs; I don't know if the improvisation is a product of being a genius or of being unprepared. I went to see a jazz performance in an art museum, and that made all the difference. I went with my friend. She always dresses up pretty and always looks stylish and clean. So, I wanted to mirror that look. We walked--let's face it, we strutted!--into the art museum downtown. High heels, dark tights, coats with bright, solid, vibrant colors. The art museum was different at night. I had only ever been in the day. The light resembled Magic Hour (you know, the natural light at sunset when everyone looks good and pretty). The band was to perform in a big, open room where normally people would stand to admire the mural. Aaaah, this mural. It's my favorite. It's the mural of the autoworkers created by Diego Rivera. It's huge. 30 foot ceilings, both walls. So, the lights were dimmed, and the jazz band was set up in front of the mural. My friend and I sat in the back, sipping our $3 sodas and listening. The music was really relaxing and I found myself searching the mural that I had seen many times before. I wanted to experience the painting in this relaxed state, as I've only ever just sort of walked by it, not having the opportunity to sit and stare at one piece of it for an hour. I felt kind of in the painting, or at least in a surreal mood brought on by song and riffs and a forced calm that I decided to appreciate.

The band was called West 73rd. They are from New York City and had a mix of old and new jazz standards even with some Frank Sinatra thrown in. Even if you think you do not like a certain type of music, I recommend seeing a certain genre (one that is not familiar to you or understood by you) in a live setting, and not necessarily a club. Find a museum or an indoor waterpark or an apple orchard that is hosting a live band or featuring an art show. I'm not saying that the unexpected setting will make you appreciate the music any more or less; it's just that the setting will give you a totally new perspective on both the music and the arena in which it is featured. Just do it for the experience. You may surprise yourself and find that the quirkiness or the unexpectedness of your surroundings mixed with art really suits you. Even though I was in a museum surrounded by classified art, the Art that I experienced that evening was the clothes my friend and I wore against the backdrop of a mural marinated in the music.

Coming Home

2010-03-02T21:19:00.000-08:00

Get ready to get raunchy. This movie should not be called Coming Home; it should be called Coming because--let's face it--that's what you'll be doing while watching. Can I just start with Jon Voight? This is not the Jon Voight that is old and gross and makes cameos in pathetic movies like Tomb Raider. No. This is 1978 Jon Voight. The incredibly cute and hot and sexy Jon Voight. Watch The Champ or Midnight Cowboy or Deliverance to experience this sex god. In Coming, he plays Luke Martin, a returning Vietnam War Veteran who is now in a wheelchair at the V.A. hospital. Jane Fonda plays Sally, a wife of a Captain, Bruce Dern, (don't get excited...he isn't hot 30 years later in Big Love and he isn't hot in this movie in 1978...not at all) who recently goes to Vietnam. Sally, then, starts volunteering at the hospital where, on the first day, she runs into Luke (literally...he spills his catheter bag all over her), an old high school classmate. Can you guess where this is going?

Sally starts spending more and more time with Luke. She gains some independence and starts questioning the moral and political implications of the Vietnam War along with the treatment of the guys at the VA hospital. Most importantly--and I say this with all sincerity--Sally stops straightening her hair. It's important because Luke notices this; he compliments her. And, that's the beginning, my friends. God, is any of this resonating? I want to be transparent and lure you in. Luke is SEXY. Okay, he's obviously totally into Sally. No doubt. But, he's also an anti-Vietnam activist and that passion, that commitment is--let me tell you, fellas--as hot as hell. He's in a wheelchair, which makes his arms strong and--this feels wrong to admit--but, the chair gives him a sort of non-threatening air that is attractive and comfortable. The movie, Murderball (a really great documentary about quadriplegic wheelchair basketball players), references the idea that the men in the wheelchairs get a lot of women because they're more approachable. (I know what you're thinking, and, yeah, they're quadriplegics--not paraplegics. It's all explained in the documentary.)

So, blah blah blah, Sally becomes more of an activist, her husband is figuring out what a mess the war is turning out to be, and we see the effects in the hospital. Now, on to the good part. Sally and Luke finally have sex. And, it's good. (The men in Murderball say it best: "most guys in wheelchairs like to eat pussy.") It's a really graphic scene--not porn, but pretty close. Soft and sweet porn. Luke's totally getting Sally off and he loves it and she doesn't have to do any work. I first watched this movie in high school, and I thought this was what love and sex was all about. I mean, that kind of exposure at that age really made me lust after Vietnam vets in wheelchairs. Too bad I was not in high school in 1978 and I had to come to grips with the fact that Jon Voight had turned into the weirdo dad who goes on Entertainment Tonight to cry about his estranged, super hot daughter, Angelina. Life is so tough for 15 year old girls. Where is the humanity?

So, Coming Home has a lot of good social commentary. Anti-war. Pro-truth. Anti-straightening your hair. But, honestly, you'll just fall in love with the love affair between Sally and Luke. I've seen this movie at different stages in life: high school, college, after college, in a relationship, after a break-up, in a weird limbo dating phase, single, sort of with someone. Let me tell you, Coming Home stands the test of time. Some have complained that it's a little long. Maybe, but it's worth it. And, you can always fast-forward (oh, and pause and rewind at the really, really good parts).

I'm so Into Jon Krakauer.

2010-03-01T20:01:00.000-08:00

Into Thin Air. Into the Wild. Under the Banner of Heaven. All books by Jon Krakauer. So, this is one of those times that Stephanie was talking about: I want to simply link to Roger Ebert's review of Into the Wild because he wrote a really great review of the movie starring the very good and very tiny Emile Hirsch (rogerebert.com). Roger uses his own references of a neighbor boy friend who went off to Nicaragua in the 1980s to fight with the Sandinistas and everyone thought he was crazy. Kinda how people talked about Chris McCandless (a.k.a. Alexander Supertramp), the real-life boy about which Into the Wild is written. God, that personal story really put Chris' journey into perspective. By the way, the movie IS good. It is. But, the book. THE BOOK. I read the book twice in a row. Right in a row! It's Jon Krakauer's narrative voice that really got me. A movie could never come close. It didn't ever really stand a chance.

So, I think I know why I love Jon Krakauer's work (and maybe even him) so much; he writes kind of like Roger. Krakauer's books, though nonfiction and not about him at all, include his own life experiences--not for a self-serving, ego-stroking reason, but to put the story or the person about which he writes into perspective. Those personal stories draw me in because the more personal, the more universal. Krakauer knows this. He's fearless in the way he includes personal stories about how when he was in his twenties, he climbed peaks just to brag about it later at the bar. But, he also reveals that the blind ambition sometimes found in young people who are compelled to explore, to figure out life, to risk comfort for truth is not simply foolish behavior. Those experiences shape your life, your existence. And, so what if they are encased in an impulsiveness that seems to disappear for many after the age of, say, 35? It's your casing, after all, and I heard somewhere that the mind doesn't develop fully until the age of 25. I hope that's true.

Into Thin Air is about the failed exhibition (failed in the sense that most of the group dies) to the Summit of Mt. Everest. Krakauer (in an interview for the Independent Film Channel's program, Iconoclasts) revealed that he didn't look at writing Into Thin Air as an act of art. He felt that it was good journalism, but that the story was too raw, too sad, and too personal to the survivors and the deceased ones' families to be viewed as anything artistic. Even in his hardcore reporting, Krakauer manages to get personal with his audience and talk about his marriage--the good and the bad aspects. That honesty is really refreshing.

Under the Banner of Heaven is the latest book I've read from Krakauer and it is a lot different than the others because Krakauer doesn't really invoke his personal experiences. He showcases the people affiliated with the Fundamentalist Latter-Day Saints (FLDS) Church and allows their stories to be told, giving many people--like women in these communities--the opportunity to be heard. Both sects--FLDS and LDS-- are totally connected even though they would claim otherwise. The nonfiction book offers a commentary on the history of the Mormon Church, the real-life slayings of innocents in the name of their god, and the way we allow blind faith to lead us--without reason or explanation--sometimes down dangerous paths to murder, bigotry and persecution.

One of the most resonating sections of the book is when Krakauer discusses Elizabeth Smart--the little Utah Mormon girl who got kidnapped by a member of the FLDS. Remember her from a few years ago? She and her family looked like they stepped out of a really wholesome soap opera. They're white and blonde and pretty and smiling. The kidnapper used scripture and references from the Book of Mormon--a faith he and Elizabeth shared at a certain level--to systematically rape her and keep her from running away even when she had the opportunity to do so. This story was so heartbreaking because, as an ex-FLDS woman said in Under the Banner of Heaven, there are thousands of 12 and 13 year old girls who are married off, impregnated and systematically raped within the FLDS community. The U.S. governmental authorities look the other way because of the FLDS's cult-like structure and the fear of treading on freedom of religion. Elizabeth Smart was rescued after a year, but the other "kidnapped" girls remain hostages. Oh, and the politics involved: homosexuals teamed with the FLDS to keep "government out of the bedroom" and feminists paired with conservative Mormons (LDS) to berate polygamy. The crazy pairings make as much sense as faith and religion.

If you haven't read Krakauer, do it. He's the mountain climber's answer to Roger Ebert. Krakauer's voice is distinct and authentic and truthful. He has an ability to let you in without ramming his experiences down your throat. He walks the line. And, he's not even a druggie like Johnny Cash. I love you, Jon Krakauer.

Every Little Step

2010-02-28T12:02:00.001-08:00

I don't know if you can appreciate this movie if your mother is not my mother. Disclosure: my mom is a total Broadway/dance/Rockettes nut. She loves all things showy and glittery and beautiful. She's the reason I took dance classes as a girl and why all of her kids grew up dancing to The Pointer Sisters or Boy George or Lionel Ritchie or any other record (yes, record) she would put on. And, we kids never danced alone. I still remember being five years old, home alone with my mom after a half day of kindergarten, stripping down to my underpants and dancing with my mom. The Rockettes were the most beautiful women in the world to her, and she thought that getting a job as a topless Vegas dancer was the highest achievement possible (over academia or other traditionally corporate professional pursuits).

So, I have a special place in my heart for the Dancer's plight, and this movie is all about "making it." Every Little Step is a documentary about the audition process and also the history of the play, A Chorus Line. I've seen the movie (and I would like to see the play), and I think that it's necessary to be familiar with the story of A Chorus Line to appreciate this documentary. A Chorus Line, the play, is about dancers getting a break (or not) and the grueling audition process--which is the same plot as Every Little Step, the documentary about A Chorus Line. It feels layered because you're watching dancers try out for a play about trying out for a play that's based on real-life experiences about the Broadway scene and auditioning in general.

It's interesting to learn that the stories that are told in A Chorus Line are rooted in truth--in real persons' experiences. All of the characters are either based on someone's real story or the story is told ver batim from a real-life experience. The best part for me, though, was watching these real-life dancers in the documentary--some way into their 30s and 40s--continue to audition (a process that takes up to a year) and try to make their dream happen. You see, the odds are completely against these performers. They're all trained; they're all really good. The probability of THAT ONE dancer getting chosen above the others is near impossible. Yet, they all continue to do it; they all continue to go for it. They do it because one more audition is another possibility. Another chance. I wish I were as brave in any aspect of my life. I hear "no" and I believe it. These dancers hear "no" and they move on and work more until they procure that "yes."

But, how do these dancers go on with their self-esteem in tact after the "no's," after the disappointment? Maybe, the lesson is in the contours of both A Chorus Line and Every Little Step: the notion that one person DID make it, and he or she pushed just as much and maybe even more than you have been nudging yourself. Maybe, making yourself do something is all that matters. I mean, even if you don't get cast, you're still a dancer. And, that is beautiful. It's beautiful under a spotlight in a flashy costume in front of thousands of people, their smiles reflecting your value. It's beautiful under the gaze of your mother in front of the mirror, your underpants-clad five year old body reflecting your worth. Maybe, the trick is getting over the idea of classifying the beauty. The dancers possess their own reflected validation of beauty. That type of spotlight must be the warmest of all.

Working Girl

2010-02-25T18:15:00.000-08:00

I feel the same way when I watch Working Girl as I did when I visited Amsterdam: both awed and at-home. The women in Amsterdam are tall, substantial and fashion risk-takers. The same can be said about the women in Working Girl. Melanie Griffith, Sigourney Weaver, and Joan Cusack are all over 5'9" (don't question this...I google-researched this and imdb'ed it...do not question my investigative skills). That plethora of statuesque women is only one of the reasons why I totally love this movie.

Working Girl is 1980s in the best/worst sense of that decade. The girlfriends (Griffith and Cusack) are secretaries who take the Staten Island ferry every day into the Big Apple. They have really big hair, wear shoulder pads and white sneakers with their black hose before they reach the office. (I am horrified and delighted to report that women still sport the white running shoes with office wear in the streets of Manhattan.) Tess (Melanie Griffith) finds herself as the secretary of a new executive, Katherine Parker (played by Sigourney Weaver). She tells Tess to come to her with ideas, and Tess does. When Katherine goes on vacation, Tess finds out that Katherine has been stealing her ideas because Tess, after all, has a "head for business and a bod for sin." That last is debateable, but Griffith does look and act the best she ever has in her career. I love her in this movie. That "little girl" voice miraculously works here and she is the most appealing I've ever seen her.

Anyway, Tess, to be taken seriously, cuts off her hair and wears all of Katherine's clothes. No one in the office seems to notice that she's in her boss's office wearing her boss's business suits. The plot is totally confusing with tons of holes I've never been able to fill in even after watching this movie at least 50 times. Tess puts together a deal involving radio and a sexy Harrison Ford. Don't worry about the confusing details of the plot; you'll get the gyst of it. Like I said, the best parts of this movie are the bad 80s fashions (including a hideously good bridesmaid dress), the frizzy hair Melanie Griffith gets from serving Dim Sum, and the incredible music. Carly Simon won an award for the theme song that sort of plays throughout. It gets totally blown out at the end and even thinking about the song gives me goosebumps. It's that good.

Working Girl is just another one of those movies that I love to watch. I just love watching Melanie Griffith and the others. They're so tall and long and tough and sexy. Don't get me wrong: the women are totally pitted against each other. Katherine is the colossal bitch who keeps a fellow woman down. That's not easy for me to swallow. But, the secretaries keep a tight tribe, and I appreciate that. The men, for their part, are represented as both saints and jerks. (A thin Alec Baldwin is hot in a gross, no shirt, sexy sort of way, and Ford is that aw-shucks, hot, open kind of guy that you'll totally want to get it on with.) Sexy. Workaholics. Mean. Studly. Need I say more?

Temple Grandin

2010-02-25T11:44:00.000-08:00

I resisted watching the HBO movie, Temple Grandin, for a while. Yes, it stars Claire Danes, an actor who has been relegated to mostly lame, supporting roles since her turns as Angela in My So-Called Life and Juliet in Romeo and Juliet. However, oh my Lord!, that haircut! Those clothes! I almost could not bring myself to watch.

But, I did and I'm glad. Temple Grandin is a real person and this film is a unique way to tell her story because we viewers are sort of dropped into her life. Believe me, you can guess how her early years went (and we do get glimpses) because she was diagnosed as autistic and weird and a good candidate for an institution. Her mother--played by the beautiful Ms. Julia Ormond...it's nice to see you...it's been years since you played the object of the brothers' affections in Legends of the Fall--is good as the woman who pushes Temple to live the fullest life she can by sending her to boarding schools and, eventually, to college. Claire Danes is pretty perfect as Temple. And, if you go on the website, you'll see that she looks just like the real deal. http://www.templegrandin.com/. Temple, understood by few, but encouraged by the ones who appreciate her brilliance, comes to design first a way for autistic persons to receive a hug--by creating a wooden Squeeze Machine to simulate human contact without the imposition of such humans. Then, Temple reconfigures slaughter houses and cattle farms in an effort to minimize the cattle's stress and create efficiency.

The real Temple Grandin has gone on to be a spokesperson for the advocacy of education for autistic people along with the restructuring of animal husbandry. Aside from the despicable fashions, I was initially turned off at the prospect of seeing this movie because I thought that Temple would get made fun of to an uncomfortable degree, and I just didn't want to see that. Temple does get taunted, but, it turns out, it's nothing she cannot take. She doesn't understand sarcasm and she doesn't understand why women would be barred from entering cattle ranches. She knows what she's good at: spaces, construction, animal behavior. She knows what she's not good at: people's behavior. That knowledge doesn't hurt her. Temple simply goes after what she wants. She dresses in her own way; she talks with her own speech inflections; she is confident in her theories. People do make fun of her, but who cares? Temple's the one with the published books, the drive, the confidence.

This is a sweet little movie about a woman who lives her life on her own terms. It sheds some light on the autism spectrum in an effort to nudge the viewers to look at people as individuals and as unique. It's not rocket science--a subject Temple loves--but, it is a nice and sometimes funny film. I sometimes wish I didn't understand sarcasm or irony. I wish I didn't classify the Squeeze Machine as sexual--as some folks in the movie do. It would be so much easier if we could just appreciate and use our minds for the gifts that they are. I wish we could all be like Temple--only, with better hair.

My Kid Could Paint That

2010-02-25T10:57:00.000-08:00

My Kid Could Paint That is a documentary about a 4 year old named Marla Olmstead who got billed as an abstract (really, nonrepresentational) artist. (It's also a film about what is good art versus bad art versus bullshit art.) She had gallery openings and her paintings have sold for upwards of $10,000 a piece. Maybe more. The documentarian first set out to make a film about modern art and this little phenom named Marla. Soon, the documentary took a turn when it came out that Marla's masterpieces were possibly painted by her fucked-up, bully of a father. First, a local reporter starts following the arch of Marla's career. Then, the story gets picked up by 60 Minutes, where the program attempts to expose Marla for a fraud and the dad as the ultimate influencer of her paintings. The little girl, it seems, paints just as most 4 year olds paint, and whenever she's caught on camera, she cannot finish a painting and the dad speaks sternly to her in the background, freely giving pointed direction.

For the mom's part, she seems protective of Marla and reluctant to allow her daughter to remain in the spotlight. The dad, as the film goes on, sort of gets more defensive and I, the viewer, got more and more uncomfortable with the way the parents seemed to be using Marla as a way to gain fame and money. It's never really revealed if Marla is a fake or not, and that's not even the point. No matter if she was coached or coerced into painting, it was clear to me that Marla did not paint out of her own volition because it made her happy or whole or whatever it is that makes artists make art. She was told to paint, and she is a little, obedient girl.

In a way, this documentary reminded me of a really good movie called House of Cards starring Kathleen Turner and Tommy Lee Jones. Turner's daughter in the movie is brilliant--multilingual, a gifted artist, social. She witnesses her father's death and is traumatized. The little girl is diagnosed as quasi-autistic and Jones is the doctor that assists in bringing back the daughter from her self-imposed prison. The little girl uses art--she paints her body to resemble a tree trunk and then hides herself against the backdrop of a real oak. She builds a complicated house of cards and sits in the middle of it. Turner, an architect, builds a huge model of the house of cards using wood that she can walk on in an effort to understand her daughter's construction and, maybe, understand her mind.

I know that My Kid is a documentary and House is fiction. But, House serves as a juxtaposition to My Kid because the parent is actually attempting to understand the child by analyzing her art. There is something unsettling and terrifying about parents who coach their child to be creative and productive as a way to impose value on that child. Even if Marla were painting on her own and showed herself as a prodigy or genius, she should be able to keep that talent for herself until she ever chooses to send it out into the world for ridicule or praise. As the reporter in the documenary notes, doesn't every child deserve a childhood?

Fried Green Tomatoes

2010-02-20T23:35:00.000-08:00

Reader(s), it is almost 3 AM in the morning. I am listening to Jeff Buckley's "Forget Her" on repeat. And I know, this review is a long time coming. I promised a review of "Next Floor" and "Crazy Heart" and they will come in time. But I just rewatched Fried Green Tomatoes and must write about it. But first, a few thoughts. The name of this blog is sort of a misnomer, I know. Sometimes we don't write about images at all. Sometimes we write about a snippet of a song, or words, but most often feelings. But it'd be silly to call the blog "Feelings move me" cuz of course you are moved by feelings. Perhaps just "Moved"? And speaking of "moved," Esquire recently published a profile of Roger Ebert that was just good. You can find it here Roger Ebert profile. Kathleen and I are big big fans of Ebert. He writes so well and he manages to insert his personality and voice in every work. He's funny and irreverent. He gets it. Sometimes I wonder why I should write about anything he's written about? Kathleen said it best when she said that she sometimes just feels like linking to an Ebert article instead of writing her own review. I echo that sentiment no doubt. And I have moments of hesitation when I wonder: what is the point of putting Another Blog That Doesn't Say Much out there? But I think it's important that we write, even if not well (speaking for myself), and even if we have 2 1/2 readers, because it's about subjectivity. Affirming subjectivity and creating it. We are subjects in process and writing helps us be and become. Writing a movie review is really hard. It's hard to describe the camera work, the characters, the plot. It's hard to show and not etch. And I know that I don't often rise to meet the challenge. For instance, I have written reviews about movies where I have entirely ignored the plot because I have forgotten it. But I am trying to get better. But I am not Ebert or Manohla Dargis or A.O. Scott and I will never be..,Okay, now onto the review!

How can you go wrong with a saccharine sweet storyline and strong female actors like Kathy Bates, Jessica Tandy, Mary Stuart Masterson and Mary Louise Parker? Can someone please tell me WHAT HAPPENED TO MARY STUART MASTERSON? MSM is amazing and she stole my heart in Some Kind of Wonderful, Bed of Roses and Benny and Joon. Hollywood needs Mary. Really. There's something off-putting about her. Her beauty is modest and she has the most intelligent eyes. End rant. In the movie, Kathy Bates is an unhappy housewife who tries to attain self actualization by attending these feminist consciousness raising sessions. But of course (typical Hollywood patriarchal ploy) the sessions don't liberate her, storytelling does. She begins to listen to the stories of an old woman played by Tandy.

Tandy tells her the story of Idgie Threadgoode and Ruth Jamison--two best friends in the Depression era South. Idgie, played by Masterson, is a free spirit who wears men's clothes (but form fitting and sexy men's clothes, obviously), gambles and curses. She teaches Ruth (Parker) how to be free and live. They open a restaurant together and build a life together. In one scene they get into this foodfight with berries and chocolate and flour and they are so close to kissing. I wanted them to JUST KISS ALREADY. But they didn't because it wasn't that kind of movie. But the sexual tension between Masterson and Parker was palpable, though I may be the only one who felt it. Masterson helps uptight, prissy Parker let her hair loose. But *spoiler alert!* Parker's character ends up dying of cancer. The illness was sudden and sort of seemed thrown in to resuscitate and dying story but I have mad love for the cancer stricken heroine. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: this sounds like a poor woman's Steel Magnolias. To which I will answer you: SHELBY HAD DIABETES, NOT CANCER. I won't lie...Fried Green Tomatoes is basically Steel Magnolias. Don't watch them both. Just watch Steel Magnolias. No no, I'm just kidding. Fried is good because Mary Stuart Masterson is in it and I swear she carries the movie. She can do no wrong in my book. And the costume work is incredible. The movie does deal with race relations but it does so heavy handedly, in my opinion. Idgie (Masterson) befriends the town's blacks and feels the wrath of the KKK. There's also an exciting murder trial that sort of fizzles at the end. I know this is not a very glowing review but you know those movies that you love because they try just hard enough and get just far enough? Fried Green Tomatoes is no masterpiece. Some of the acting could use some work and Kathy Bates's southern accent was cringe-worthy. But Mary Stuart Masterson? Well, she's irreproachable and I will watch anything she's in. Twice.

Listening Is an Act of Love: A Celebration of American Life from the StoryCorps Project (audio cd from NPR)

2010-02-12T21:41:00.000-08:00

My grandma was the best talker I knew. Funny. Smart. Sensitive. Caring. Self-deprecating. Engaging. She had some great stories, and I wish I had thought to record them. The closest I have is a cassette tape my sister made of an interview she did with our grandma for a women's studies class in college. And, it's kind of marred because my other sister is screeching/singing in the background.

StoryCorps is a project from NPR. Booths have been set up mainly in big cities in order for people to interview or prompt a story from a loved one. And, that last part matters. The loved one. It makes such a difference to hear a story told to a grandson or a mother or a brother. It's so much more intimate than talking directly into a microphone--a void--or getting interviewed by a stranger. The cd is really the way to listen to StoryCorps. (Don't even bother with the accompanying book). And, it's best--as with most radio programs--to listen while driving (good advice, Mr. Ira Glass). There are about 20 stories on the cd and they're each three or four minutes long.

The best interviews in the collection are the ones where the interviewer already knows the beats and rhythms of the tales. She just likes to hear it told by the right person and with the right level of intimacy. One of my favorites is from a Korean-American woman (born in the US) who interviews her mother about how she promoted affection and love in her marriage, their household and, by extension, the rest of their family. The story is sweet, but the best part is at the end when the mother asks the daughter how she feels about having a loving, affectionate family. The daughter likes it and you can hear it in her voice that she's telling the truth. Another good interview is between a grandfather and a grown grandson. The grandson asks his grandfather about how he and his grandmother decided on adoption. It is clear from the interview that the grandfather never thought twice about adoption and that he loved his children unconditionally. The exchange between the men is loving and only after the story was over did I realize that the grandson was the biological son of the adopted child. Beautiful.

Listening to these stories brought me back to when I used to beg my grandma to tell me stories. I knew how they ended because I had heard them hundreds of times before. That didn't matter because what I was really begging for was to hear the inflections in my grandma's voice, to see her become animated, to get a glimpse of her soul. StoryCorps does that in a different sort of way. No, you do not know the people on the cd. But, you become intimate with the listener of the loved one more than you even like the story. The story sounds more tender, more intimate, because the storyteller is talking for the benefit of his or her loved one. By extension, you become the loved one. It's a very cozy feeling to be in that position--especially when your great storyteller of a grandma is no longer here.

My favorite story is about Miss Divine, a strict Sunday school teacher. I laughed out loud, and I listened to it over and over. It was so endearing and funny because of the cousins who told the story. I felt like a fellow cousin who endured the wrath of Miss Divine right along with them. I felt so connected to humanity. Listening was as intimate as talking on the telephone. I felt like no one else in the world was around, yet I was so aware of the world's beauty. What more can I say? Go out and buy the cd. Give one to a friend. Record your own stories. Whatever we do, let's just keep this going. It's too good to stop.

Pretty in Prom; Footprom; Never Been Prommed; American Prom

2010-02-09T18:53:00.000-08:00

I did not go to my high school prom. I did not want to go to the prom. I did not turn down one person as a date. I did not care one thing about that prom. I knew people that went to the prom, and aside from going to a salon to get an up-do that aged the average teenager 15 years and buying a flimsy long gown, I never found a compelling reason to go. So, WHY OH WHY are we bombarded by Prom movies? You know...the ones where the prom is the holy grail of teenage life?Let me tell you, teenage readers who, with prom season coming up upon on us and you with not a date in sight, prom is only a dance. A hopeful boy may bring a condom and a starving-to-fit-into-her-dress girl may cease to eat and then have champaigne and then get a bit loopy (Donna Martin from 90210 anyone?...Donna Martin graduates!). But, that's kind of it.

Don't think I don't get it; I do. I know that the prom is the teenage equivalent to a wedding. It's a good goal in a movie (wedding/prom) because it's a place for the plot to end up, but it's probably not a good goal for life itself (and I'm emphasizing the wedding part here). The whole goal of Footloose is to have a dance, to have a prom. The goal of American Pie is to fuck by way of the prom. Romy and Michele get dissed at the prom. (And, their high school reunion is pretty much prom, round two.) Pretty in Pink claims her independence at the prom (even though Andy still gets with Blaine...I'm convinced the director's cut of that movie has Andy either getting with her gay/doesn't know he's gay yet friend, Duckie, or she stays single). Now, Carrie...I can totally get behind the goal in Carrie's prom. Sure, Carrie wanted to dance, but the school wanted to humiliate her. So, when she demolishes the better part of her peers, the goal of murder by way of prom is pretty ingenious. (Shakespeare would have a field day with that. In the 1970s [Carrie], creates death and by the 1990s [American Pie], the boys long for their own demise by way of sex, by way of the orgasm. It's almost too poetic.)

I would love to see a movie where the prom simply happens, and it's not at the end, and it's not involving an ugly duckling getting transformed into a faux-forty year old (I'm referring to the hairstyle that inevitably happens to 17 year old girls at the salon). A prom IS like a wedding. But, it's a wedding where you're merely a guest. You're not the bride or groom taking vows (i.e. the last lawful contractual form of slavery). If you simply attend a wedding reception, it's not the climax of your life. It's a night where you maybe bought a new dress and dinner was served in a buffet line. That's how prom should be. It should be a fun night. And, don't think that if you missed prom in high school, you'll never get to go later. You'll go. It'll just be better. It'll be in the form of a law school prom (yeah, believe it or not, they do exist!) or a high school or college reunion or someone will throw a party and the theme will be '80s prom or you'll attend a wedding or be a bride or groom in a wedding.

Prom is just a fancy dance. So, go to all the equivalents you can because you'll most definitely be smarter than you were in high school. Sleep with the boy who sheepishly brings the condom. Punch the drunk boy who gropes you. Diet down. Don't diet down. Drink a lot. Drink nothing. Just remember, it's ONLY ONE NIGHT and there are so many in life. And, if you've been brainwashed by the movies into thinking that this is the climax of your existence, then you better work to make it the best night of your life. Then, call your therapist, take your meds, and sleep off that hangover because tomorrow is another day. And, maybe, another prom.

3 Women

2010-02-08T21:27:00.000-08:00

1977, Directed by Robert Altman. Altman has said that he got the idea to make this movie from a dream. Indeed, some scenes are visually poetic, strange, and dream like. Some scenes are nauseating, in that 70s men in polyester way, a reality you rather wish didn't happen. Shelley Duvall won a best actress award at cannes for her portrayal of Millie Lammoreaux, a girl you're not likely to forget. This isn't the sort of film where the personalities and lives of three women are examined, contrasted and mirrored, and you try to identify with maybe one of them. Nor is it three separate stories with points of intersection. These are sad women, "maladjusted," each existing in her own world. (Janice Rule plays a woman-child, who paints wonderful symbolic figures in empty swimming pools. You will not forget these paintings either. Certain images from dreams are hard to forget.) They look at one another, but there is no sorority. Somehow, by the work of the devil, a filthy disgusting man gets his way with each of them. That man becomes their bond. And then what happens? The women come together. They reposition themselves to protect one another, and in their new arrangement, the man is dispelled. He vanishes, just like that. 5 out of 5 stars.

The Pornographers

2010-02-08T19:59:00.000-08:00

JAPANESE SEX DOLL, the making of. I've seen my share of crazyweirdhonest2thepointof mysticism japanese films (Birdy Hilltop ring a bell with anyone?), films that start off ok but then become deranged. (This review, as well as future subsequent reviews under my name, will be incoherent, but please stay with me.) But it is that very crazy honesty, or crazy surrealism, that whets my appetite for more Japanese films. Or maybe I am simply very into black/wht films of the 50s and 60s. "The Pornographers" are a group of men who make pornographic films and literature. But they are not slimy at all. In fact, one of them is effeminate, possibly asexual, possibly gay. The main operative is a devoted boyfriend/husband and step-father/father figure. He considers the distribution of porn to sexually hungry Japanese men a public service. (One scene in which a group of Japanese businessmen screen a porno flick involving a Caucasian male lead is particularly revealing. One of them cracks a joke when he sees the size of the white male endowment. The group laughs. Either the Japanese have very good self-deprecating humor or they know that size is no indicator of sexual prowess/pleasure. Or maybe both. Anyways, I was surprised when that topic was addressed, and from the Asian male perspective.) His, um, occupation is the least scandalous part of the movie. The movie also addresses the dynamics in a claustrophobic lower middle class four-member family, such as the sexual and domestic potentials between a coming of age young woman and her mother's live-in boyfriend/second husband. Surreal (but real) scenes include an orgy, a recurring carp, and yes, not to disappoint, a sex doll. Watch it if you've ever found yourself asking, "what is the japanese's fascination with sex/ roricon?" 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Stand and Deliver delivers.

2010-02-04T07:24:00.000-08:00

My high school English and Spanish teacher (same guy) would motivate us students to speak in front of the class by saying, "You must stand and DELIVER." The sweeping arm movement helped with the emphasis. It also gave us great material to work with outside of class while making fun of him. I'm convinced he got that saying from an '80s movie called Stand and Deliver. Even though this was way past the '80s, my entire town was really stuck on feathered hair, tapered jeans and heavy eye shadow. So, my teacher was no exception.

That phrase really did motivate me. But, the movie--a true to life story--behind it is even better. It stars Edward James Olmos as the teacher, Jaime Escalante, at Garfield High School in Los Angeles. Jaime is slated to teach remedial math to Chicano/Hispanic students. Instead, he decides to teach them calculus. They eventually take the AP exam and are accused of cheating. I know I always wax nostalgic for '80s movies, but I can't help it. There's something raw and rugged about the camera work, the wardrobe, the actors that has yet to really translate in subsequent decades. Now, for the most part, movies seem too glossy and the actors seem too clean.

Stand and Deliver is really a coming of age story of sorts. The students work together for two years and we see the struggles they encounter in their personal life against the backdrop of them becoming college-ready. These are poor kids from the barrio and even the educators were probably hoping they would simply make it out of high school alive. Mr. Escalante is giving them the potential to earn college credit. That is huge. (In a way, this movie reminds me of the documentary called Fear and Learning at Hoover Elementary about barrio kids and the teacher that motivates them. She gives the elementary students fake diplomas to some prestigious universities on the promise that these kids go to college and get the real deal.)

Okay, so when the students are accused of cheating, first they deny it and then they collectively decide what to do next. I always cry at the last 30 minutes. It's just powerful. And, yeah, I know they're high school kids (but probably all the actors are really of age, right?), but they're hot. Lou Diamond Phillips plays Angel (gangsta turned calculus god) and I'm just into him. He had me at La Bamba. The girls are cute, too, with their big hair and real-woman figures. I'm saving the best for last: Andy Garcia. I LOVE Andy Garcia, and I really don't think he's gotten the amount of movie roles he deserves because you know that eye candy is always necessary. He is just beautiful. Andy plays the guy who has to investigate whether the students at Garfield cheated or not.

Okay, this movie is not good because everyone is hot (and, yes, Mr. Olmos, I include you...that combover really gets me). It's good because it's a true story that has some depth. Yeah, they're high school kids and usually nothing much happens of significance to an average 16 year old. But, you really will understand the importance of these kids learning calculus. Well, the thing is, the kids are ordinary. And, that's what makes this feat so much more than ordinary. Dare I say it? It's inspiring.

Reality Bites bites.

2010-02-02T04:23:00.000-08:00

I'm sure this has happened to you. You see Reality Bites when you're not quite out of high school but thinking about college and life after. Troy (Ethan Hawke) seems really hot, right? He's brooding and smart (A 180 I.Q.! A philosophy major! He's in a band!). He's also a guy who's had 12 jobs in probably as many months. As Lelaina (Winona Ryder) in the movie says, "All you ever do is sit and couch and fondle the remote control." What a fucking winner. But, he IS a winner. He's so much better than Ben Stiller's character--you know, the one with the job who is actually nice to Winona. Gross, right? WRONG! And, that is only the tip of the iceberg of why Reality Bites is such a monumentally sucky movie.

Do you even NEED to know the plot? 20-somethings right out of college. Finding their way with dates and friends and getting HIV tested (this IS the mid-'90s...salt 'n pepa: let's talk about sex, baby; let's talk about you and me; let's talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be; let's talk abooouuut sex. TLC: Lefteye wore a condom patch over her eye). Lelaina is making a documentary about her friends, about people living life with no real role models, while she works at a sacharine-sweet morning show, Good Morning, Grant, to pay the bills. The concept of the documentary is good, other than the fact that Lelaina cannot hold the camera steady. Oh, yeah, and Lelaina needs to choose between her old friend, Troy, and this new guy, Michael (played by the director, Ben Stiller).

But, there is one underlying good thing about Reality. See, these young adults have just graduated college and they're still living all together, trying to scrape together enough cash for pizza, having one-night stands, coming out to their parents. It's nice to see that just because college ends, your days with friends and all that comes along with college life, doesn't necessarily end once you hit your mid-twenties. That part is real and kind of comforting. And, the relationship between Vicky (Janeane Garofalo) and Lelaina is nice in a realistic girlfriend sort of way. Okay, so, I know the idea of prolonging the life you lead in college is appealing because I've done it--that, and my bestie and I would watch this movie almost daily when we had an apartment together. However, there are really bad aspects to Reality. And, really bad messages. And, tired cliches. It's hideous.

Winona (post-Lucas, post-Beetlejuice, pre-shoplifter) is appealing in this movie because she embodies the mid-1990s prototype of young women--okay to be smart, wears sensible, sturdy shoes...I think you know where I'm headed. (Sorry, I'm sort of on a 1994 movie kick.) And, she's fragile-looking, petite and pretty. Likeable. It's just that watching this movie again recently, I can't help but want to shake Lelaina and tell her to get the fuck away from Troy. He's no good. He treats Lelaina poorly. Even when they get it on (and I know I'm not spoiling anything here...even if you haven't seen Reality, you can figure this out), Troy runs as fast as he can away from Lelaina.

And, yet...we are supposed to continue to root for Troy. We want him and Lelaina to be together in the end. Even watching it now, I can't help but think what a poor, sad loser Michael is. I guess Troy's better. At least Troy doesn't like Peter Frampton. And, the cameos are really good: John Mahoney (the dad from Say Anything) is the host to Good Morning, Grant; Dave Pirner (Soul Asylum) shows up for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment as Vicky's boyfriend. (I think he and Winona were dating in real life; what other reason could there be for his appearance here?) Oh, and Renee Zellwegger doesn't even speak as one of Troy's one-night stands. There is some salvation here.

A big weekend

2010-02-01T10:00:00.000-08:00

Dear readers,

It was a great weekend for me (and the blog). I visited Washington D.C. and saw two (arguable) gems: Crazy Heart and Next Floor. Next Floor is a short that was screening at the Hirshhorn Museum. It won the Cannes Award for short films. Art, you say? Or maybe more eloquently, should art and cinema collide in such a recognizable way? I'm excited to review these two films. I'm also thinking of compiling a "10 most badass female movie characters" list. Until then...

Backbeat

2010-01-29T16:49:00.000-08:00

Backbeat is the story of a tortured, sexed-out, sensitive painter named Stuart Sutcliffe (played by Stephen Dorff, 1994’s pre-emptive answer to the fem and pretty Robert Pattinson). He’s the infamous “fifth Beatle.” This is when the Beatles first are together. In Hamburg, they play in stripclubs and sleep with anything that moves. John Lennon (played by the real John Lennon’s total look-alike, and who subsequently played John in other movies, Ian Hart) is the leader and he takes a fancy to Stuart. When someone comments that Stuart isn’t a very good bass player and that he just stands there, John acknowledges this, but counters, “Yes, but it’s the WAY he stands.” And, that pretty much sums up Stuart’s totally sexy charisma.

So, The Beatles continue to play for pennies and they’re just not taking off. Then, Stuart and the boys meet Astrid Kirchherr (played by Sheryl Lee), a photographer who famously cuts their hair into the iconic moptop style. As much as I fell in love with Stuart, I was equally enamored of Astrid. In fact, in order to mimic Astrid, after I saw Backbeat I got my blonde hair cut into a short, 1960s mod crop (and proceeded to be mistaken for a boy for the better part of middle school).

Stuart falls for Astrid and they start a sweet affair, marred only by John’s attraction to Stuart and Astrid’s own on again/off again boyfriend, Klaus. Stu’s love of art and his admittance into art school ultimately lead him down a different path than the one traveled by The Beatles. The movie is good not only because of the cast of characters, but because it oozes style. It’s Hamburg. It’s the 1960s. It’s a bunch of boys from Liverpool. The pants are tight; the hair is cropped; people have dark rooms in their bathrooms; cigarettes are chic; drugs are rampant; and sex is expected. God, I’m salivating just thinking about it. The style is enough, but what is more is the music. Borrowing from the first perceptions of The Beatles, the soundtrack musicians all sort of derive from punk, and even include Dave Pirner from Soul Asylum and Dave Grohl from Nirvana. It’s raw and raunchy—kinda like the Beatles were before they got big.

Backbeat is not really at all a story of how Stuart comes this close to enormous fame and then backs out. He was a gifted painter who never intended on doing rock and roll forever. It was a gig for fun. But, that’s not to discount the beginning fame and struggles of the Beatles. Watching John watching Stuart, one cannot discount the possibility that John started and kept the Beatles going on the hope that Stuart would stay and play forever. Given Stuart’s sexy charm and talent, who could really blame John?

Long Live MY SO-CALLED LIFE!

2010-01-23T18:38:00.000-08:00

My So-Called Life is the best show I’ve ever seen about a teenage girl. Claire Danes plays Angela Chase, a sophomore in high school who begins to examine her life, to look at high school through a real lens, to understand herself. In a manic-panic move, she dyes her hair Crimson Glow because her hair was holding her back, so says Rayanne Graf, her colorful friend. Angela quits Yearbook, explaining to the teacher that they work so hard to create this book. This yearbook ends up becoming such a lie because it doesn’t depict what REALLY happened. It’s what everyone thinks was SUPPOSED to happen. And, if you made a book about what REALLY happened, it would be a really disturbing book.

So, that all happened right in the first episode, and I was completely in love from the start. I mean, isn’t it clear…just from that revelation about a yearbook? This show is just really good. Every episode is nuanced with heartbreak that resonates. It’s the “Pimple” episode where Angela’s insecurities about her looks come out. It’s the “Boiler Room” episode where Jordan (played by the very dreamy Jared Leto) will only make out with Angela on the sly. But, at the end of the episode, when he walks with Angela down the hallway and takes her hand, you’re just so happy for her and you forgive him and you feel seen (right along with Angela) for the first time. (And, the Buffalo Tom song is perfect here.) It’s the “Our Town” episode. Rayanne gets the part in the play, and Angela isn’t speaking to her. But, at a rehearsal Angela must stand in for another actor and play opposite Rayanne. I swear I tear up every time I see that…Angela (a stage hand for Our Town) is crying for real when she must ask Rayanne (in script) “Were you happy?” And, Rayanne (in character) answers, “No.” That just gets me. It’s all so real and true and beautiful. I mean, there are just layers upon layers of good, honest moments.

I have the box set of the first season and when I watch it now, I can’t help but notice the story lines of the parents in a way I never did before. Jeez, marriage and long-term relationships are just really complicated. And, even when you love each other, it’s so easy to offend. And, it’s easy to cheat, and it’s easy to lose sight of your common path, and it’s easy to forget the reasons you even wanted to start this life together. But, that’s the thing about life (and MSCL). Life is messy and Angela doesn’t always do the most honest thing or behave correctly. She’s flawed, just like all of us. But, more than flawed, she’s introspective and constantly struggling to forgive herself those flaws while dissecting their very nature. More than anything else, this show displays in a real, raw way the experience of a teenage girl--an experience that does not usually get noticed with such respect and truth. Girls are complicated at every age, even when they are cynical and sensitive 15 year olds. They deserve to be truthfully portrayed, and My So-Called Life does that in the best way I've ever seen. Years ago, I heard the producer Marshall Herskowitz, talking on the NPR radio program Fresh Air. He thought it to be such a privilege to be able to give teenage girls a real voice when so often they are pocketed into stereotypes without much depth. Angela Chase is no such stereotype.

MSCL only lasted one season (1994). I’m sure some Lifers will convince themselves that MSCL was actually saved—as it was preserved—in this one perfect capsule. I disagree! I wanted Life after it got cancelled, and I’m still hungry for more. So good. So honest. So relevant to the inner workings of the human condition, in my humble opinion.

The Celebration (Festen)

2010-01-20T07:53:00.000-08:00

If you tell someone the Celebration is your favorite movie and they have even an inkling of what the movie is about, they will think you are a disgusting human being. This happened to me about a month ago when I was rattling off my top movies: Mallrats, Terminator 2, lots of foreign films, the Celebration. The guy I was talking to nearly choked on his pad thai. But hey, at least its not Gummo.

The Celebration is about a patriarch's huge 60th birthday blowout. Set in Denmark's countryside (that's about as far as my geography knowledge will take me) the Celebration is a Dogme 95 film. You know Dogme 95. Dogme was an attempt by Danish filmmakers Lars von Trier, Thomas Vinterberg et al. to create a new way of making films, stripped of artifice and the bloated Hollywood post-production process. Some of the goals were: no special lighting, genre films, superficial action...the director must not be credited. The idea, which I have taken from an interview of Mr. von Trier himself, was to limit yourself so severely (like the Sweats challenge!) that you grasped onto something brilliant as you were falling. Mr. von Trier is known as being a great filmmaker and a huge asshole. Dancer in the Dark and Breaking the Waves were good, so heartbreakingly brilliant, don't get me wrong. But Mr. von Trier runs his mouth criticizing the United States when he hasn't even been here! Like any good liberal, I can criticize the U.S. all I want but once a European follows suit, I become a Palin "real American." With us or against Mr. von Trier, with us or against us.

Alright, for awhile it seemed like Dogme was a success, as Dogme film #1, The Celebration, was the Grand Jury Prize winner at the Cannes film festival. Dogme has lost a lot of its credence because its attempt to forego gimmicks was a gimmick in itself. A collective of avant garde filmmakers! 10 goals like the 10 commandments! Content and form horribly misaligned. Nontheless, the Celebration is a Dogme film and it will forever be pegged as Dogme #1.

The movie is really good. Not because of its Dogma-ness (well, maybe in part) but because the story is so tight and it unravels both quickly and with supreme patience. Helge, the patriarch, is celebrating his 60th birthday at the family run hotel.

Christian (Ulrich Thomsen) makes an opening speech, saying that Helge used to rape him and his twin sister as children. The upper crust guests are appalled but laugh it off in a masterful move of collective deception. Christian is thrown out and the door is slammed. The guests go back to eating and Christian walks right back in. Because they didn't lock the door. It's just such a good moment, comedic in the face of tragedy. Christian makes another speech, in this one he accuses his mother of walking in when his father was raping him.

Amidst the accusations the waiters bring out another course. It's kinda like the Discreet Charm of the Bourgeosie; there is death and absurdity amidst the fine china and silverware. Vinterberg mixes the weighty accusation of incest with scenes of drunken laughter and dancing. Up until 3/4 of the movie the viewer thinks that maybe it is all Christian's imagination. Maybe Helge can still be the upstanding family man that the party wants him to be. And the audience maybe wants it, too. He's built this hotel empire; everyone has really kind words to say about him. His wife is unimpeachably elegant and gorgeous. But everyone knows that is not true. Towards the end of the movie, Helene, Christian's sister reads a note left by Linda, Christian's twin who recently committed suicide. She writes that she had dreams Dad was molesting her again and that was why she was taking her life. It is here that the party's goodwill ends. Helge has scarred his children and killed his daughter.

The next day at breakfast (yes, this was a destination party and everyone is present at BREAKFAST THE NEXT DAY AFTER THAT DEBACLE). Helge has fallen. His son, the bumbling baby of the family, Michael, refuses to allow his children to eat near their grandfather. No longer in his tux, Helge looks like a shrunken man. His life is over.

It takes two hours but Helge finally gets what he deserves. The disdain and disgust of his family and friends. No gimmicks. Just justice.

Jean de Florette

2010-01-19T12:48:00.000-08:00

Jean de Florette is a totally Frenchie movie. First off, it has the only French actor that every English speaker knows of—hello!..My Father the Hero, Green Card—Gerard Depardieu. Yes, we’ve all seen him in recent years in Us or People in one of the beach issues where they show celebrities with cellulite and guts. He looks like one of the worst—in a speedo on the French Riviera or Jamaica or something. And, we all excuse him because he’s European, but really, we’re all just grossed out by his puffed-up body. It’s like seeing Arnold Schwarzenegger on the beach in teeny bottoms. He is Austrian, but, come on! Any way, I digress.

In Jean de Florette, Gerard looks good—albeit with some meat on his bones—because it is 1986 and he isn’t all bloated from booze or food or coke. Jean (played by Gerard) and his family inherit an old house with land—the same land that the jealous neighbor wanted to buy. Jean’s farm flourishes and he begins to raise rabbits. That’s when the neighbor finds a way to shove Jean’s family off the farm.

So, the pace is kind of slow, but it’s deliberate. When the neighbor really starts his trouble, you’ll appreciate that rhythm because you’ll find yourself right there with Jean, suffering all the way. Of course, Jean has a daughter that makes it into the sequel, Manon (Manon des sources: Jean de Florette 2). She’s a teenager in Manon and you’ll love it because, in typical French whore-ishness, there is an obligatory scene where the pretty blonde is dancing naked, oblivious to the Peeping Tom. Yeah, it’s good.

Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose.

2010-01-17T21:47:00.000-08:00

(warning: To all three of our readers, it's gonna be long and rambly)

Sometimes you have to rise to meet life's challenges. Triathlons. Senior theses. Watching 6 consecutive episodes of Friday Night Lights on a Sunday night. As I write I am still streaming via Netflix so it might be 7. It's true that FNL is filled with cliches. Football as metaphor for life. High school "sophomores" with sick receding hairlines. The town slut who acts like she can f*** with the best of them but is really, just a marshmallow inside who wants to be loved. It gets worse. The golden boy star quarterback suffers a tackle that lands him in a wheelchair during THE FIRST GAME. The second string milquetoast QB (who loves Jackson Pollock and Bob Dylan) steps up and has "one hell of an arm."

But it's okay. Because of Taylor Kitsch. Just look to the left. He plays Tim Riggins "Riggs," a cuspy alcoholic defensive lineman (? I just made that up). He has the body of a Greek god and that face. God. Those cheekbones could cut through steel and he has a Edward Furlong anemic look in the eye area that gets me. every. time. And he's good. He's a good actor. But mostly he's a good handsome looking guy. He was a one time Abercrombie model. I know--you can cry and curse--I did. Okay, aside from his appearance, Kitsch has perfected that hard-breathing-I'm-about-to-cry-in-a-very-masculine-angry-way sort of acting. He heaves with the best of them.

And all cliches aside, FNL is really good. Set in backwater Dillon, Texas, FNL is about a town that eats, drinks and breathes football. It's filmed in a sort of muted way and it weaves elegantly through multiple story lines. Of course there's latent racism and overt sexism. Like, how come all the white kids have names like "Jason" and "Tim" and the two black characters are named "Voodoo" and "Smash"? I'm being serious. Maybe it's a sort of "only black folk are cool enough to carry off nicknames." I hope so.

And on another note, I've always envied what I term "the universally lovable young male." I feel like older men and young men have, or can have, an enviable bond. Curt words. Cursing. Respect. And also, it's fucked up that a movie/show can explore male relationships ad nauseum and still be marketed as a show about the human condition, whereas a movie about women is a chick flick. Yeah, that's right. I'm going on a long feminist rant now. See Manohla Dargis "Fuck them". Alright, done with that.

The actors are really good. Kyle Chandler, (from what I gather on IMDB, a B- character actor) does really good as Coach Taylor, a straight talking, honest, doe eyed man in his 40's. But it's a young 40's for all you ladies. Minka Kelly is adequate, a bit of a poor man's Penelope Cruz, but she plays her perfect virginesque role well. The breakout star is, of course, Kitsch but I've already written about him. I guess I could write more. Kitsch's Riggs is stoic. Few words. Long glances. Melting panties. Whoa, excuse me.

The storyline is tight and characters are fleshed out. Alright, I am now on my third slice of chocolate cake and the 7th episode of FNL. I'll be back with more FNL developments...

BOLERO by Maurice Ravel

2010-01-17T12:19:00.000-08:00

I'm sure you've at least heard this piece. Torvill and Dean (the most famous ice dancers) won the 1984 Sarajevo Olympics with this song. The song is Bolero and it is amazing.

While away at school, I happened to come across the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra website and they were set to perform Bolero. It was during finals and no one was interested in going with me, so I went by myself. I remember running into my friend, Jeff, on campus. I was all dressed up, even wearing heels to walk around SF. I only had my clutch and an umbrella with me. He was like, Where are you going? To the symphony, I said. During finals? Yes. And, it was totally worth it.

I was the youngest person there by 50 years. The tickets were pretty cheap because it was a matinee. I had never been to the symphony before, and I really did not know what to expect. They played, I think, four songs total. Bolero came after the intermission. Bolero is about 20 minutes long. It starts out quiet, a whisper. And, then it builds and builds and builds until you can actually feel the instruments pulsate through your body. It really is like sex. The whole song takes its time, priming you, readying you, steadying you, rocking you until the triumphant climax. My body swayed to it and I was on the edge of my seat, wanting to embrace the whole orchestra.

I got a cup of coffee after, and walked back to the train by myself. I couldn't stop thinking about Bolero. I was kind of sad after. It was all done, and I knew that even though I ended up buying a Maurice Ravel cd, listening to it on a stereo would not be the same as in person. Sometimes, I do listen to it on my computer or something. If you see me sitting in the library with head phones on, and suddenly I'm all hot and bothered, you can figure out what's going on.

Grey Gardens

2010-01-15T19:20:00.001-08:00

I'm not really in love or even in like with Drew Barrymore. But, she managed to transform herself and she changed my mind in Grey Gardens. Drew plays Little Edie and Jessica Lange plays her mother, Big Edie. The movie spans a time frame from the 1930s until the present. And, let me tell you, the aging make-up is really well done. Drew, especially, is really transformed. But, it's not only the make-up. I've never seen the real Little Edie, but I would like to. If she is anything like Drew's rendition (and word on the street is that she is), then she is a total character, dancing all the time and telling a whopper of a lie whenever she can.

The women are Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy's relatives and that is really why they get any attention at all. Two documentary filmmakers befriend them and work on their movie. So, we see the documentary being shot. (The real documentary is available to view.) And, we see the two Edies--especially Little Edie--react to their camera. The mother is over the top and fun and that eccentricity has rubbed off on Little Edie. She is a dancer and a performer and lives to be "on."

What do you do with a caricature of a mother who loves you very much and nurtures you and encourages you to stay in her own crazy world and life? Well, Little Edie stays for a long time. The mother and daughter eventually live in squalor as their trust fund dwindles and their balance of real and imagined becomes more off-kilter.

Grey Gardens is not so much of a downer as it is kind of funny and charming. The Edies are so alive, so camera-ready, and so poised to make their mark that their housing conditions seem like only an after thought. I guess Little Edie is living in Florida now. If she's still doing a cabaret act, I would totally go see her.

The Watcher in the Woods

2010-01-15T10:18:00.000-08:00

When I was about 5 or 6 years old, I loved The Watcher in the Woods...LOVED it. I don't really remember the plot, but I do remember not really understanding what was going on even back then. I just loved the tone of the movie. It's really creepy. Two sisters come to live in the countryside and there is an old neighbor lady who stares at them through the upstairs window. The little sister begins seeing images or getting possessed due to the death of another girl's spirit (Karen) roaming around the grounds.

There are so many parts that I never understood, but both scared me and intrigued me. The older sister (the ice skater from Ice Castles!) gets choked in a river. The little sister, however, is really eerie because she identifies with the ghost. So, for me, the most resonating moment of the movie is when the little girl writes the word Karen on a window and reads it backwards. Nerak. She decides to call her dog that. The reason that part was so disturbing to me is that I actually do speak words backwards all the time. So, as a little girl watching this possessed little girl do something that I had always done made me feel like the freak I have since become.

I'm going to watch this movie again to see if it still creeps me out. And, if you speak or say words backwards, well...you may have found your kindred spirit in the little girl in the movie. Be afraid...be very afraid.

Moon

2010-01-14T22:44:00.000-08:00

How can a movie starring a man and a smiley face (computer) be so good????? HOW????! The man is Sam Bell (played by Sam Rockwell), an astraunaut contracted by Lunar Industries to oversee and do repair jobs for their station on Earth's moon. He has to live alone for 3 years. It is lonely but he has GERTY, the smiley face computer. He talks to GERTY, GERTY talks to him. GERTY is voiced by Kevin Spacey. Sometimes, GERTY expresses concern for Sam; his smiley face becomes a frowny face. Their relationship is weird....and precious. I don't want to give anything away. I went into the theater not knowing anything about it except for the cool poster. So, Sam is lonely, Sam has GERTY, but Sam discovers something very very strange... Directed by Duncan Jones (David Bowie's son!). Beautiful sad movie. 5 out of 5 stars.

Evil (Ondskan)

2010-01-14T22:21:00.000-08:00

Some (me) would argue that Andreas Wilson (protagonist Erik Ponti) is the second most beautiful man alive (c. 2003). This review is not to argue that point because Ondskan (Swedish for "evil") is much more than 113 mins of eye candy. It is a movie about the pecking order among male boarding schoolers and one individual who cares neither to uphold nor defy this order but simply wants to be left alone. But that is not possible. The movie is set up so that Ponti must remain in the boarding school; withdrawal is out of the question. Thus, in a closed system, his very existence in it makes him a participant. He must deal with the rules and the order, one way or another. Nicely filmed movie, "gripping," but, alas, not unconventional. So, 3.5 out of 5 stars. But, I mean, I can't just discount all that eye candy, which is worth, like, at least 2 points in and of itself. So, in total, 5.5 out of 5 stars.

I Don't want to sleep alone (Hei Yan Quan)

2010-01-14T17:19:00.000-08:00

I don't want to sleep alone is a cinematic masterpiece. Tsai Ming Liang is an amazingly patient director and this movie is a testament to his patience. Every scene is wonderfully drawn out. The protagonist peeing. A woman gazing. People sleeping. You know in High Fidelity when that guy asks John Cusack how his records are organized? Chronologically? Nope. Alphabetically? Nope. Then how? Autobiographically. Holy fuck!! That's kinda how I like to store movies in my mind. Autobiographically. I remember I watched I Don't want to sleep alone at the berkeley pacific film archive. Maybe it was an Asian film festival? The theater was really empty. The movie was art house as fuck and a few people walked out. I was with my friend, A. We often watched movies together and she was the perfect partner because she wouldn't dissect it afterwards but we were always on the same wavelength. We'd use really generic and normative phrases to describe the movie but it made sense because we understood, deeply, how we each felt.

The film is set in Kuala Lumpur and it took awhile for this to register because Chinese, Bangladeshi, Indian and Malay people populate the screen. It all starts with this abandoned mattress that is lugged and dragged across the city. This isn't like Danny Boyle's vision of poverty. This is a filthy, grimy and gritty city. Forgive the description (I saw the movie years ago... so I have these gaping holes in my memory)...A man drags the mattress to his apartment and scrubs and cleans it. He finds a badly beaten man on the street and scrubs and cleans him as well. They sleep together on the bed. They don't have sex but the sleeping and gazing is more really intimate, somehow. Oh god, I've forgotten nearly everything about the movie (what a great reviewer) except a few key scenes. The characters rarely speak. In fact, the main character never says a word and we never learn his name. Tsai utilizes gaze and feel much more than words. There's this incredible phantasmic fantasy with fishing and fireworks and an old decrepit warehouse?

Worst review ever. I'll admit it. I need to watch the movie again. Maybe it won't be as good this time around because I'm a hardened pragmatist now. But I loved it once. It was so beautiful.

Roseanne: Part 1

2010-01-13T20:04:00.000-08:00

All images from thirdanddelaware.tumblr.com. This is a blog that is devoted to chronicling the fashion in EVERY ROSEANNE EPISODE EVER. Heavenly.
The chicken shirt. Roseanne has this wonderful chicken shirt that looks worn and wonderful, sweet and comfortable. It pairs well with jeans, with slacks, with anything. I need this shirt. I want this shirt.
Here, are you kidding me? Every single person in the Conner family dons the infamous chicken shirt. Except Becky but she doesn't really count. I love this shirt. The fashion on Roseanne was so good. I'm not trying to be funny or ironic. But these images really move me. It is about inimitable style that can be borrowed but not stolen. The shirt looks just as good on DJ as it does on Roseanne. And of course, Jackie can do no wrong. When I was in college my bestie and I would go on all sorts of fashion adventures together. Our senior year we started "the sweats challenge." We had to wear sweats for 30 days. The idea was you limited yourself so severely that you had to create something amazing. We bought little boys sweats and paired them with cardigans, skirts, trenches. We only lasted 11 days (this was partially because my friend was starting to quasi-date this boy and felt uncomfortable wearing sweats around him) Ok, the point is, there is glory is something so simple and worn. Like this chicken shirt. It probably smells and has yellow armpit stains but it is good.

The Devil Wears 27 Prada Dresses

2010-01-13T08:28:00.001-08:00

Two movies. One screenwriter. I mean, is it even possible for two different people to come up with the fluff that is both The Devil Wears Prada AND 27 Dresses?

These are two really bad movies. But, they're bad in a really good way. If I catch either movie on HBO at any time of day, I can watch it without any problem. Yeah, I may have missed something here or there, but it really doesn't matter. I've never actually watched either of these all the way through from start to finish. So, every time the movie comes on and I see a different scene, I just think, "oh, so...that's how that next scene all comes together." No big deal. It's a surprise. And, since the plots of both are super predictible, all of the nuances you may miss mean pretty little. Don't even worry about them.

First, The Devil Wears Prada. So, we have this young woman (Anne Hathaway) who is recently graduated from some top-notch school and thinks she's hot shit. Needless to say, she's totally not into fashion, but she lands (in my humble opinion) a killer job in the fashion business. The only problem is that she works for a bitch (played by a "Maude" look-alike Meryl Streep). Of course, the boss lady is powerful in the industry and Hollywood would make her no less than a total nightmare to work for.

Anne Hathaway--who is pretty and likeable and adds somethin' somethin' to her role--finally gets her bangs cut and gets a wardrobe she could never afford. Aaahhh...she's finally looking better and is getting accepted by her boss and peers...I get it, alright? Plucking eyebrows equals pretty equals good job equals everyone loves you. That ugly duckling business never gets old...! Oh, and her boyfriend is Adrian Grenier (you know...from Drive Me Crazy). He has about as much charisma here as he had in Drive. He mopes throughout the movie because--what??!!--his girlfriend has to work. The nerve.

So, the story is blah, but the clothes are great. And, even though the audience is supposed to be totally against Meryl and all she stands for, I really love this movie because she has MY DREAM JOB. And, I really do not understand why Anne would want to leave her job to be at a no-paying newspaper desk. The fashions. The backstabbing. Paris. God, I LOVE the fashion industry.

And, here we are at 27 Dresses--another movie where the story is slight, and nothing completely dramatic happens and it's just a mundane ride. I think Katherine Heigl is really beautiful and she sort of lights up the screen. I don't know why anyone would buy her as the Ugly Sister. Well, she's not as blonde in this movie, so maybe they're right...!

Katherine is tall and statuesque and I kind of am into the Hot Guy in the movie (Corny Collins from Hairspray and the Prince from Enchanted). Anyway, the best part is when she actually tries on the 27 bridesmaid dresses. So, that should tell you something about the plot.

Watching these movies is kind of like watching The Real World. It doesn't matter if you start completely in the middle and catch the beginning at a later date. You'll figure out what's going on. Devil is definitely better, but 27 is a close second. Do not rent these movies. They're only good if you happen to come across them on television. You'll be sucked in. And, you'll know how much they suck, but...that's not really the point.

Drive me crazy--drove me crazy

2010-01-12T15:33:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I convinced my boyfriend to watch Drive me Crazy. I bought it for 5 dollars at a blow out sale. The death of the DVD industry means $5 movies for me!
So I bought it and magically spun a tale and convinced my very heterosexual, action loving boyfriend to watch it with me. "It's really transgressive. It's snappy" I said. "There's this scene where they show all the popular kids cheering at a bball game and then compare it to a Nazi rally. Trust me. It's good."
We started watching and it was bad. Really bad. The clothes were bad bad bad the casting was god awful. I mean, I love Melissa Joan Hart but who could buy her as the popular bitchy girl? She's sweet. She's Clarissa. She's Sabrina. She's not hot. She's pure and has cankles.
The dialogue was embarassing. It made me cringe. But I loved it. It reminded me of sixth grade. I had an eraser in sixth grade that I wrote ADRIAN GRENIER all over. As I erased it became ADRIAN GRENIE then ADRIAN GREN, then ADRI. God I was so in love with him. Now he's in this really shiteous show called "Entourage." Alright, back to the movie. It's a classic My Fair Lady motif. Adrian Grenier is Chase Hammond-the outcast loser with a social conscience. MJH is Nicole (forgot last name)popular girl who is Ms. School Spirit. They start dating to make their exes jealous and then --GASP!--they start falling in love with each other. She makes him over into a Gap mannequin and he starts hanging with all the cool kids. It's really an awful 1.5 hours. Melissa Joan Hart and Adrian Grenier have as much chemistry as lobotomized siblings. But I won't lie. There are snippets of gold. Adrian Grenier leaves this message on his ex girlfriend's answering machine in response to her message: "if you really want me to get back to you, leave three original ways why high school sucks." Chase: "Uh..let's see. There's the rampant homophobia. No pep rallies for the debate team...which actually leads to, I'm sure, the much larger issue of the highly fascist nature of pep rallies in general.Speeches. Saluting. Banners. I think you see where I'm going here. I mean, one of these days, a coach is going to suggest invading Poland.Uh, finally, it sucks because after you break up with someone, you can't escapethem, and it just kills you to seethem...everyday. Dulcie. Call me.Tonight. I don't care when you get in" God. Adrian Grenier serenading me with pop leftist talk like that...the thought of it makes me salivate. He's no Lloyd Dobbler--John Cusack was truly the king of awkward, endearing, highly critical protagonists, but he'll do.
I give this move a C-. But if you have fond memories of it from when you were a dumb 12 year old it's a solid C+.

Year of the Dog...a movie review

2010-01-08T16:04:00.000-08:00

Peggy (played by Molly Shannon) is single and she works as a secretary. Her best friend, her bed partner, and her companion is her little Beagle named Pencil. Pencil dutifully sits with Peggy on the couch to watch television each evening and lovingly waits for her to return at the end of each day. Pencil is Peggy's constant. So, when Pencil is suddenly dies in her neighbor's yard, Peggy is devastated. (The neighbor is played by the very ugly John C. Reilly.)

Peggy gets a call from an animal rights activist, Newt (played by Peter Sarsgaard), who gives Peggy a new dog, a German Shepherd named Valentine. [Peter Sarsgaard is incredibly good in this movie. Peggy sort of falls for him. But, he is a self-proclaimed asexual and leads Peggy on, but then backs off and gives asexuality as the reason even though he probably is just gay.] Peggy ends up taking the dog and becoming friends with Newt. He introduces her to veganism and she embraces this for all its worth.

Peggy's animal rights activism ends up getting her into some trouble at work and she even violates the neighborhood code of health when, in a manic-panic move, adopts some twenty dogs at the pound who are to be terminated. She becomes so fixated on her cause that people call her crazy.

All of the actors are great--especially Laura Dern who plays Peggy's sister-in-law. However, the whole reason this movie works is due to Molly Shannon. She brings a vulnerability and a quirkiness to her character that you can't help but love. Shannon's Peggy is getting crazier and crazier through out the movie. But, Peggy is so good to her co-workers and so loyal to her friends and so sweet to her niece and nephew, that Peggy's dip over the edge is more sad than scary. All of the office employees and everyone else in life have their own dramas, their own obstacles(married people: what to make for dinner; dating: is he cheating, is he not?; workers: too much time at the office versus time at home). We all have our thing. Well, Peggy becomes totally obsessed with hers.

We all have our own obligations (that sometimes turn into compulsions). So, it's kind of refreshing to see someone like Peggy--who has sort of rejected the whole marriage and children--break out of conventional expectations to first find a cause worth going crazy for and then actually taking the plunge. She's into animal rights. She goes way over board and ultimately way out of control.

Peggy's free fall into the abyss is really good. You can see her tumble and you're holding out a hand to grasp, but Peggy's already made up her mind that she's determined to hit bottom. We see someone get all the way down to the ground only to have that exhilarating smack give assurance to the validity of the leap. Peggy is not deterred by her eventual total breakdown. It only confirms that this cause she has chosen actually is worth fighting for. It's worth it to her.

Don't worry about this movie turning you vegan. (But, you'll probably think twice about eating chickens.) It might, however, make you determined to find your own passion and maybe even get you excited about the anticipation of your own mental breakdown. Once you recover, your path will be pretty clear.

DOG FIGHT...a movie review

2010-01-06T21:36:00.000-08:00

I was lying on the top bunk. My roommate was on the bottom. The lights were out and we were talking our way to sleep. Movies. We know so many movies. Popular movies. Obscure Movies. Independent movies. On this night, we were sort of quizzing each other.

"Iliak Kulik," I challenged. "Ice skater from the Olympics. He was in 'Center Stage,'" she responded.

And on it went.

"The mom from 'Family Ties.'" Without missing a beat, "Oh, you mean Meredith Baxter Birney, who starred in the 'Betty Broderick Story' on Lifetime?"

We were so on. It was like playing a really good game of tennis: lots of vollies.

But, then came the real test. "Okay, but what about that one movie with Lili Taylor [we LOVE Lili Taylor--you know, Lloyd Dobbler's best friend from 'Say Anything'] and River Phoenix where..." I cut her off to answer: DOG FIGHT.

It's the 1960s. Vietnam War time. River Phoenix plays Birdlace, a marine on liberty in San Francisco who's about to be shipped out. While waiting to meet up with his friends, he sits in a coffeeshop. He spots the waitress, Rose, played by Lili Taylor. She's facing a corner and cautiously playing the guitar. Rose is sort of chunky and sweet as she smiles at the marine. He knows that she's the right girl for him--the girl he should take to meet his buddies.

He persuades her to go out with him and even waits for her outside while she picks out an outfit. We see Rose in her bedroom trying on every piece of clothing she owns. Putting everything on. Seeing if it fits. No. Too tight. No. Too frumpy. Finally, she stuffs herself into a pouffy yellow number, teases up her hair and applies heavy make-up. She comes out to see Birdlace and his eyes widen. Perfect. She looks perfect for tonight. They walk over to the bar.

Lots of marines are already there with dates. Birdlace gets himself drunk at the bar and refuses to dance. Annoyed by this behavior and sick to her stomach, Rose runs to the bathroom where she meets one of the marines' dates. She tells Rose that she ain't in no normal dance hall. This, sweet girl, is a Dog Fight. And, Rose is one of the dogs. See, the marines rent out a place. They each bring as a date the ugliest girl they can find. And, whoever has the ugliest date wins. The woman who tells Rose is actually a hired prostitute (which goes against the Dog Fight rules). She takes her teeth out to gain points with the judges in exchange for a cut of the prize money. She tells Rose that she actually looks pretty decent when she's not, you know, winning the Dog Fight.

Rose is livid and hurt. Birdlace feels kind of bad and tells her that he didn't dance with her because that's when the real judging starts. Rose doesn't really buy any of it and she leaves. Rose somehow affects Birdlace the way no other dog has. He ends up going to her house and convinces her to have a proper date with him that night. She does. Rose changes into her everyday, normal clothes. Birdlace, The Marine, throughout the night, ends up falling for Rose, The Pacifist. And, Rose even beds him in her room before daybreak when he ships out.

This movie is good because it's not a big show-y plot. It's quite simple. And, in its simplicity comes the charm of the actors and the characters. Lili Taylor's Rose is a promoter of peace, yet she is ballsy and tough on Birdlace throughout. River Phoenix's Birdlace ends up being kind of charming once he convincingly comes to love Rose. We the audience get to go on this date and understand Rose and Birdlace for who they become by encountering each other. And, after accompanying them on their date, we may even be able to forget the Dog Fight. Well, forgive it, but don't forget it.

PINK MARTINI's "Hey Eugene"...a song review

2010-01-06T13:03:00.000-08:00

Have you ever hit it off with someone at a party? Or at a bar? Or at a club? Or in line at Target buying sheets? Like, really hit it off? And, you're not dreaming of a wedding and children with this guy. You're just feeling like maybe there's something there. Something that could turn real.

And, you give in. You give him your number--even though you've given your number out before only to wait by the phone, hoping he'll call because HE SAID HE'D CALL. It's not like you were making this up or anything.

Let's say that you're not simply chatting, but that you actually hang out together all night. You dance together, and he says that you were the best salsa dancer THAT HE HAS EVER COME ACROSS IN NEW YORK CITY.

This is the song, "Hey Eugene," by Pink Martini. The girl is not in love with the guy and she's not delusional. After all, he's the one that kept flattering her all evening and pointedly asked for her number, adding IS IT TOO SOON IF I CALL YOU SUNDAY?

The song is so familiar in that heartbreaking sort of way. So many times, I've thought I've really hit it off with someone only to find out (mainly through lack of a phone call) that he just wasn't that into me. Why, boys? WHY? Why go through the charade of it all? Why even ask? If you aren't prepared to dial the digits, don't get my hopes up by asking for them.

Pink Martini paints a picture of this exact scenario. The singer isn't angry or even in the mood to blame the guy. Mainly, she's just bewildered. And, her bewilderment is comforting to those who enjoy a heartbreaking familiarity.

The Legend of Billie Jean

2010-01-05T01:22:00.000-08:00

It's about time I wrote a review. The Legend of Billie Jean is a gem with performances by Christian Slater and Helen Slater (who play brother and sister in the movie but ARE NOT RELATED IN REAL LIFE. Trust me on this one and save yourself 1/2 an hour on IMDB) and YEARDLEY SMITH. Billie Jean is a super femme Children of the Corn looking bombshell. She and her brother Binks, played by Christian Slater are out on the river one day when a rich boy named Hubie Pyatt steals Binks' beloved scooter. It shows up later on the lawn of their trailer park totally totaled. Billie Jean goes to Hubie's dad's store and demands the 608 dollars it will take to repair the scooter. The dad refuses and tries to get Billie Jean to have sex with him. The scene ends with Binks accidentally shooting Mr. Pyatt with a gun Hubie's dad claimed was not loaded. Eh, you're probably thinking they should go straight to the police since Billie Jean was sexually assaulted and Binks was tricked. No. Instead they go on the lam and become wanted fugitives. Hubie's dad begins to spread lies about the kids on all variety of media outlets--calling them thieves and criminals. To set the record straight Billie Jean makes her own video. She comes out with a completely butch dyke haircut, wearing some sort of teal wetsuit and a singular jangly and dangly earring. She is a vision. Some sort of GI Jane amazon warrior woman. She makes a video rebutting Mr. Pyatt's assertions and demands the 608 dollars to fix the scooter stating "Fair is fair!" The networks get a hold of the video and Billie Jean becomes a legend. Girls everywhere start shorning their locks and donning a singular dangly earring. We see "fair is fair" emblazoned on visors (this is the 80's after all) and bumper stickers. People begin donning Billie Jean t-shirts and baseball caps. It's beautiful. It's a movement. It's Billie Jean! In a final standoff Billie Jean sets fire to Mr. Pyatt's business (he's hawking Billie Jean merchandise, the filthy pig) and we see a huge statute of Billie Jean become engulfed by flames. It's a vision of Joan of Arc. Joan of Arc was on TV and inspired Billie Jean to cut off her hair.

Oh god...I'm not doing justice to this movie because it's 2 am in the morning..but it's good. It's good in a mainstream 80's movie sort of way..but it's good because there's not this sort of fare coming out right now. Theres Highschool musical bullshit and Twilight fodder. But this movie was about class tensions, gender equity, a radical transformation of another sort. Billie Jean goes from trailer trash prom queen to iconic feminist punk. Forget the Cinderella moment in She's All That where a homely girl turns into a beauty queen simply by taking off her glasses Here, Billie Jean cuts off all her hair. Becomes, ostensibly, "less pretty." But she kicks ass. Oh and did I mention Peter Coyote as the good cop?

Avatar...a movie review

2009-12-31T09:00:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-27T09:04:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-25T16:54:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-25T16:50:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-25T10:59:00.000-08:00

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.

testing

2009-11-30T08:56:00.001-08:00

just a test

uiowaerp