Yang Yang

It starts with crying. A young, lovely Chinese-French teenager is crying at her mother's wedding. Crying seems to happen a lot in her identity quest. Life is tough as she is adored by men, runs track, and wonders about her father although tells everyone she doesn't worry about her father. Her new step-sister is vengeful. Her agent/maybe boyfriend uses her. More crying. Lots of camera shots way too close - while dancing, talking, walking. A few camera shots too far away - running around the track. Lots of shots through the light source obliterating images and annoying my eyes. It's like someone gave the camera to an uncoordinated ten-year old. The performance by Sandrine Pinna is one-noted. It was torture to see her weep, pout and otherwise just emote variations on 'sad' for what seemed like days. Time to cut the time loss and just cry over this downer of a film choice.

Letters to Father Jacob

Ingmar Bergman was so good at capturing pathos, making it seem effortless to point a camera at quite human struggling that anyone should be able to see beneath superficial surfaces and see the pain below. But it isn't as simple as having great actors play real people in front of the lens. A good script helps but when silence and pacing are important, good direction and innovative moments are needed. Letters to Father Jocob instead plays it safe and misses the target.

Letters follows two dependents as they search to find redemption and meaning in their lives. A women is released from prison, nowhere to go except to a blind priest's country home. The priest, Father Jacob, doesn't have a parish anymore. Instead, he spends his hours answering letters from people requesting his prayers. Sadly the dialogue, plot, and pacing follows formulas and cliches including water leaking in the home, flooding us with soulful symbolism oft used (A Pure Formality comes to mind). Both actors deliver quality performances, showing restraint and subtlety so lacking in mainstream film. But the director shoots everything with traditional shots, standard motion and pauses, treading old grown with old technique as slow as snail mail. I can only recommend this for Swedes and Sylvia Plath fans.

A Town Called Panic

I had no idea what I was walking into. Animation from Belgium? Sure, they make good fries and waffles but animation and comedy? Holy cow ... or maybe that should be cows, plural. This shit is funny. Basically there are little subplots strung together to make this movie length. First up, Cowboy and Indian order too many bricks to build a BBQ for Horse. Second is the destruction of their house, building new walls, and the mystery of who took the walls. There is underwater adventure. Fall through the earth's core with the cast. There are crazy scientists throwing giant snowballs via a mechanical metal penguin.

Yes, it is insane. But it is also damn funny. I noticed a giant waffle in the vending machine at the music school. Out is pops along with a teacher's comment to the student to "tend to their waffle." Huh? I don't really care 'cause it just made me laugh, and laugh. My only complaint is that, like with any super salty or sweet treat, I needed a break. I think I would have liked to see this as a TV series, giving me a good break between vignettes. This would also allow me to gather more friends to laugh along with me during next week's episode. Tune in next week to see if Horse, Cowboy, and Indian get into more trouble. I'm sure it'll be panic at the disco.

Reykjavik-Rotterdam

A by-the-numbers crime action thriller that keeps pace with many Hollywood flicks, which means I was bored. Start with a reformed alcohol smuggler who is living a lean life trying to support his wife and two kids on a workingman's salary. His wife's ex-boyfriend, who happened to setup most of our hero's runs, gets him to do one last run. Who would guess it would go wrong putting his wife in danger and forcing him to outwit some dumb cops and an obnoxious OGV captain. They did add some humor related to making fun of Pollack, dumb art thieves, and silly chase sequences just to keep things from getting too tedious. Still, the entire movie played just like every other one-last-heist-job film just changing a few details and supporting characters. Yes, it kept the chases going. Yes, it kept people in peril. Yes, you could guess most every move before it happened. And yes, many people might like this escapist ride. I am saddened that they wasted funds to produce something that Hollywood churns out all summer like sausage. I expect more from my foreign films. Guess I expected too much.

Moomin and Midsummer Madness

Crazy, absurdist stop-motion animation from those loopy, and probably high, Finish folks. A family of hippos seems to be living on a tropical island and they like to keep their jewelry in the pond. The volcano explodes which inexplicable causes the island to flood - not a tsunami but a rise of water I don't completely understand geologically but this is not a place of logic if the hippos are living there and these annoying elf people keep popping in to stay, as if relatives. So their home floods, they find a floating stage and make that home, put on some play, loose their kids in tree hammocks, the police lock them up, they trick a woman into unlocking them, all this sort of leads to a return home but what a frickin' trip, and not in a good, mellow, laser show wasy, more like a bad acid trip. Albino tropic hippos. I just will never get over that. Oh, and did I mention it is really, really long .... 75 minutes that feels like you were Rip van Winkle long? I just kept wanting to toss those little felt balls into the dryer and make some lint. Maybe then I couls start a fire to keep myself warm and awake.

Dawson Isla 10

Just when I thought all the stories about Chile, Allende, and the aftermath. This film moves the action to a concentration camp of sorts on an island that seems to be in constant winter. Various government supporters and cabinet members who supported Allende are sent there to do what? Die? Be used as pawns in diplomatic games? Not really sure. I never felt connected with any of the individuals or the group as a whole. Nostalgic pictures of Allende and re-enactments didn't work for me. Family separated didn't either. It all just seemed flat and unfocused. I think trying to tell too many people's storied distracted from a core heart for the script. I was just left watching the movements. But Ted Kennedy comes out heroic even if the film rightfully questions the U.S. involvement with Pinochet. History - it's a had thing to capture and even harder to have people care about without some dramatic center. Better luck next time, Chile; this isn't Oscar worthy.

Sons of Cuba

A crew follows three prospective kids through Cuba's boxing schools. We see the tough times they have living in financial difficulty. One kid is the son of a famous boxer who stayed in Cuba only to seem to be living in rather humble conditions. The kids cry when they don't win, one struggles with weight, they all seem to struggle with parental strife like divorce or absent parenting. So why didn't I care about their plight.

Hoop Dreams followed two key kids trying to make it in the US via the hopes of basketball. In that documentary, I found myself feeling connected to the families, the games, their lives. Yes, it was forced drama but that is often what documentaries do.

In Sons of Cuba, I really didn't understand why the film-makers were interested in these kids. If they didn't care, why should I? Yes, I felt for the kids when they were struggling, but the editors and film would too quickly pull away from the real drama and focus on the kids and distract me with other material - the coach, the shaky shots of the homes, the streets, the neighborhood. Edited in a more fluid manner, this could have given texture to the boys' stories. Instead it just pulled me away from felling like I knew anything about the kids and their world. It all just felt like veneer, slightly better than "reality" and much less manipulative but still not enough to keep me from wanting to nap.

Movie Day

To celebrate Chinese Lunar New Year, I should have ventured to Chinatown. Instead I headed to the movie theater. Yes, I can easily see four movies in one day. My record is seven. Yes, I'm a cinemaniac but I'm getting better; I only do this once or twice a year, not for a full month or more like I did back during my SIFF days. I found moving to NYC shifted my dark theater practices to live theater and musicals. I see a lot less film these days.

Here is the day's rundown:

Avatar - saw this in 3D Imax. If you're going to a film you think will suck and is only interesting 'cause of special effects, might as well get surrounded by the stuff. I sort of expected the story to suck 'cause Cameron (Titanic! BLECK!) only cares about LONG films with TONS of production value. OK, this is basically a GIANT fantasy film where people get to become bigger, stronger, sexier (women even get tails to complete Freud's penis envy idiocracy), and more in tune with nature. But nature is one fucked up zone that makes no biologically evolutionary sense, it's just more glowing and focused on one really giant cool tree-house. Oh, and the blue things, just like humans, love to fight which makes this basically one big action film/video game.

Sure, I loved the moral message of being in balance with nature, not exploiting everything for personal gain. But in the same breathe, Cameron exploits CGI, perfect physiques, sex, violence, explosions, and fantasy with no trepidation. Why are all the Na'vi so similar in looks? Why co-op ethnic looks like corn rows and long phallic braids? White guilt? So while I enjoyed the world of glowing jellyfish-like seeds, fern & frond lushness, and other organically thriving environs, all the actions, explosions, sexual references, and chases can't make up for the lack of engaging story and desperate need of editing. At least you can get a good nap in as it clocks at over 2.5 hours. just relax and dream of Star Wars.

Valentine's Day - Why am I in this showing? Oh, to remind myself how love sucks, there's a day out there to remind men to be romantic even if they aren't and women to demand romance mostly through inflated expectations of action and gifts. Ugh. Ashton Kutcher, the posterboy of selling himself with new media (can someone please hack and kill his Twitter account?) is a florist and basically this films is an ad for all the crap like flowers, chocolates, diner out, etc. that goes along with a forced holiday for love. I think the producers were hoping for an American Version of Love Actually (which I hated, too) but they ended up making a insipid, frivolous thing into a commercial - so I guess that was a very American thing to do after all.

Percy Jackson & Olympians: The Lightening Thief - basically a melding of Harry Potter and Clash of the Titans. I like the infusion of Greek mythology into the hero's journey story. I also liked the creatures and use of CGI to bring both the human and god worlds to life. It didn't hurt to have the Empire State Building also serve as a gateway to Mt. Olympus. Still this is simply a good Saturday morning cartoon special just pumped up with better production values and some name-brand actors (Pierce Brosnan, Uma Thurman, Rosario Dawson). Uma Thurman was pretty cool as Medusa.

CrazyHeart - Pure Oscar cliché as a drunk country singer/songwriter meets up with a much younger reporter. He sucks the love from her and fails predictably when it comes to being responsible. It is a quiter version of the collapse than most but still the same ground covered. I didn't even like the music (sorry, Mr. T-Bone Burnett). The casting of Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal in the leads was a smart choice as they kept me interested in an otherwise uninteresting story. Colin Farrell was porrly cast as the young protégé who makes it to the famous level - sorry but his ponytail and accent didn't make me believe he was a big country star. But this little film feels indie and sentimental so I'm sure they'll reward it come Oscar time. If Jeff Bridges gets the nod, it's because of his body of work and not this one performance. His roles playing bad guys and The Dude are much more entertaining, but those roles never get Academy recognition even though I think they're much harded to cast and deliver.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus

Terry Gilliam is still creating strange, magical, and crazy worlds. Sometimes the stories get lost in the texture and tricks but in his latest tale, the story is there if you care to find it. The hero's journey in this case takes the action behind the mirrored world of Dr. Parnassus (prolific Christopher Plummer who seems to be cast in every film these days needed an octo- or septuagenarian man).

It seems that Dr. Parnassus, a monk from unknown lands, has made a deal with the devil (Tom Waits) involving a bet regarding humankind's morality; he must save a few souls in particular to prevent the devil from taking his daughter (Persephone myth?) who will soon come of age. Obviously there is a great deal of Greek, Tibetan, Indian and other mythology in this tale (Mt. Parnassus was the place to seek art, literature, poetry and other lofty pleasures).

Dr. Parnassus has a traveling gypsy caravan roam which he puts on his 'shows' with the assitance of his daughter (Lily Cole), a dwarf (Verne Troyer), and a doting young boy (Andrew Garfield) in love with his daughter. They save a man (Heath Ledger) hanging from the underneath of a bridge in London. The hanged man is our hero, required to face his internal demons, false personas, represented quite literally with different faces/facades in the form of some very pleasing actors - Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell.

The imagery is simply breathtaking. I love the textures, colors, dimension, and creativity in all the worlds and landscapes thrown at us. It still is very Gilliam with giant heads and English print influences that hark back to his Monty Python work. I also found the pace to be very action-forward but pulled down by an uncertainty as to if it was all going anywhere. This created a pensive unease as I wasn't sure when the rollercoaster ride was going to end. But it did. And the ride was fun, if a little long. The people met and places visited during the experience were fun but too numerous to leave a few indelible moments to last in the mind beyond the few hours of viewing. I was left with more of a feeling of tapestry, textures, colors, and filmy feeling (mostly from Tom Waits). It's like looking at a really busy collage or oriental rug then asking yourself days later, "What did that look like?" You'd have to go back and look again, as the details are fleeting, but the feeling still lingers.

San Antonio

Went home for the 3-day weekend. Almost forgot my luggage at the office. Had to run back after boarding the subway and thinking it strange how I didn't have anything heavy to schlep to JFK. Luckily I still had time to make it out to the airport since I caught the very next subway into the city. Far Rockaway is rather far away. Ugh.

Got into SA Friday night. I went back to visit my folks and a friend I reconnected with via FaceBook. FB is truly amazing as it brings up all these old faces I hadn't thought of in years. There are a few negatives but mostly it is an amazingly great way to update friends and family on all the adventures and updates you can't squish into Christmas and holiday card updates. I hadn't heard from my college roommate and her husband in years, so my update with them was two additional children!

Spent most of Saturday doing the tourist stuff downtown. Walked a good portion of the Riverwalk. Picked up the River Barge for the most of the old section of the river. Lots of new construction but I still love the more natural section with the cypress tree knees jutting up and the vegetation bring in the organic calming elements to the stroll. We popped into the mall for a quick bite to eat and bathroom breaks. Walked up to street level to walk past the Alamo. Yep, it's still there. Yep, you still remember it. Back across the street to wind over to the bus stop to head back to T's parents place. Haven't done the downtown loop in years. Learned a few things from the boat guide but mostly it's the same.

Dinner was from Chit Chats Bar-B-Que. Really good stuff from these gals working in a small place near the AlamoDome. Everything was great - brisket, ribs, very lean pork.

Spent Sunday with my folks. We tried going to chamber music at the synagogue but noticed the parking lots surprisingly spare. Everyone in Texas drives everywhere. Turned out one of the musicians was ill so they had to cancel. Weird since my last visit when I went to hear a quartet play they started late due to one of the musicians getting stuck on a delayed flight. Maybe it's me.

We ate at Pappasitos, one of my favorite places. Start with the fresh guacamole which comes with the good chips; table chips are too thin and sometimes stale. They have the best grilled quail. It comes with a lime butter sauce and really fresh tortillas. Damn good stuff.

We went to see It's Complicated. Rather simple and silly plot but the cast delivers the subpar material with enthusiasm. I personally hate this recent genre of film - older woman fantasy flick. The formula includes a 'mature' woman with a great career, fabulous home and wardrobe, can't seem to get guys her age, often her ex, to take notice. AH, but by the end of a series of goofy incidents, some involving a one-upsmanship over their younger competition, she gets the guy, not her ex. Ref: Something's Got To Give, Nights in Rodanthe, I Could Never Be Your Woman. Ugh! Pure fantasy drivel. Sadly most of these lame films are directed and/or written by women, sometimes very talented women. WTF? Why keep perpetuating the myth that a man will complete the happily ever after story? Maybe they need to read some Bella DePaulo.

That rant out of the way, I did enjoy Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin's performances. And I did like the negative reaction to the use of plastic surgery. Good for that message. And John Krasinski delivered great comedic reactions in the supporting role as the future son-in-law. Steve Martin was too restrained, not that they needed to use him in all his chaotic craziness but I wanted to at least see something beyond an impression of being stoned. But it was entertaining escapist material, only because I didn't have to pay ;)

Monday I had to head home. Before boarding the plane back to NYC, I needed a good Mexican breakfast taco fix. Our first choice was closed so we headed to Panchitos. It's across the street from Julian Gold, which is so great to see since most local fine clothing stores have long been gone post Macy's, etc.. Good restaurant switch. I had two tacos which were great. They do great migas and chilaquilas but the standout item was simply the corn tortillas - OMG! This is what all tortillas should taste like - fresh masa, warm, fluffy, cooked yet soft, bursting with flavor and no hint of dryness. Why, oh why can't I get this in NYC?

Ah, I miss food, family, friends. But could I ever live here again? Time will tell.

Fantastic Mr. Fox

Thank god for Wes Anderson. Without his texture and quirky dry, deadpan writing, I would be searching for an antidote to all the Steven Spielberg I grew up on. Sure, ET and Indiana Jones were fun but I never saw the story-book worlds I grew up on brought to life in film ... until now.

Roald Dahl was my choice of childhood reading. He seemed to 'get' kids who were frustrated at adults doing stupid things like hunting (Magic Finger) and being mean (James and the Giant Peach). Fantastic Mr. Fox was a treasure. I just loved pouring over the pictures and wishing I could dig those amazing tunnels. I also loved just saying Boggis, Bunce, and Bean before I even knew what alliteration was. And while Dahl's 'people' books like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory could be made, and remade, into pretty good films, I never imagined his 'animal' books could come to life so well. But I never knew Mr. Anderson ... yet.

Mr. Fox is a fox, a wild creature, meaning you can't really expect him to behave against his nature, and his nature is to kill. Now when you have some nice hen houses and other easy prey, it's only natural he'll follow this nature and partake in the bounty before him. The story is simply a family man (Mr. Fox) with a dangerous scheme (robbing B,B, &B) that places his family and friends in harms way. Will they survive when the three Bs use every industrial device they have against them?

Anderson explores more of the 'human' conflicts through Mr. Fox. In his screenplay, Mr. Fox gets married due to an unplnned pregnancy and gets a respectable job as a journalist. How many kids stories rbing up such taboo subjects and even has charcters say things like, "I wish I hadn't married you." and banter about the trampiness of the maternal character in a very sympathetic way? Anderson also elevates other human conditions like parental expectations, sibling rivalries (cousins, in this case), and relationship quandaries. Yet even with such adult topics, Anderson keeps a kid-freindly tone my humorously avoiding curse words and substituting 'cuss' in their stead. This attention to detail in dialogue gives such levity to intense matters that the whole film seems alight with magic.

Baumbach & Anderson's screenplay makes many changes to Dahl's book yet all of them seem to mesh well with the media and time. I just loved the adventure of Mr. Fox vs. the dumb, glutenous, and power-hungry men who ran the town. The dialog zinged with spirit and digressions into existentialism, feats of athleticism, and poignant social observations ("But in the end, he's just another dead rat in a garbage pail behind a Chinese restaurant.").

I also enjoyed the use of stop-motion. The characters and process were refreshing throwbacks to a more classic time, when Dahl wrote, when computer animation and glossy post-production effects were unimaginable. Anderson still keeps his trademark sense of texture and set design with details like Mr. Fox listens listening to a WalkSonic player, the play-by-play for the game Whackbat, and Rat's Security tag. The dialog is wonderful and I kept thinking how succinct and smart some of these characters were ... then they'd revert to hissing and scratching - it's in their nature. Such contradictions in behavior - that couldn't be reflective of say Homo sapian behavior? What could we learn from Vulpus vulpus, except some fancy scientific terms for a few woodland creature? And how to ask Wolf about winter ... in French. Pensez-vous que l'hiver sera rude?

Well, I learned a little ... but mostly I was entertained and enchanted. The later is rarely achieved in movies these days. Now I want a bandit hat of my own, even if I have to find a really stretchy tube sock. I will wear it with pride until the DVD comes out, or Mr. Anderson takes me to another wild and fun place I've never been before. Anyone up for a game of Whackbat? I'll bring the pinecones.

Law Abiding Citizen

What a piece of crap, but at leas Peter brought Fairway sandwiches so the night wasn't a complete waste.

Someone got the great idea to pitch Hollywood the movie idea of a super-smart man who breaks into prison to fuck with the justice system that let his wife and child's killers get off easy. Casting very-hot-this-year Gerard Butler and the quickly cliche Jamie Foxx, hopes are high for star-power turnout. Unfortunately the plot goes nowhere except into unbelievable and hyper-action-explosion territory and I wanted to run screaming from the theater halfway through. Basically the story plays like a SAW but with the 'good guy' father/husband killing the two bad guys. The gore and innovative ways to kill are now expected in most horror but then this film has an identity crisis and switches to a thriller, mystery, spy genre? They really lost me with a terrible in-a-tiled-tunnel meet-up with a spy who worked with the madman in secret gov't plots and the guy actually says things like, "We never met. This meeting never happened." "If he wants you dead, you're dead." and "Just put a bullet in his head." Problem with setting up a grieving and vengeful family man as a bad guy is it is very, very difficult to then find a satisfying ending. Like a horror flick, the audience is secretly enjoying Freddie Krugger and his ilk killing. But you can bring those baddies back, like a bad dream. You can't make a good man into a cathartic killing machine and have him get away with all the vengeful bloodshed of innocents. The painted themselves into a bloody corner. Don't be dumb enough to join them.

Burn After Reading

Those wacky Coen brothers. Everyone is a character in there films. Even their thrillers have a comic book quality to them. And most of the time I find them interesting and engaging but this time not. Occasionally Clooney would look up to goof with the camera, but only Brad Pitt seemed to be having a supremely fun time on this film. He bounced around and smiled and pretend-scowled before smiling again at most every situation. He was sup a goofball energetic personal trainer, you really enjoyed watching him up until his last moment on screen. Everyone else was just annoying. Tilda Swinton is cold and edgy-looking enough; they really didn't need to make her character a heartless bitch, too. Malkovich delivers crazy Malkovich, Clooney delivers Lothario Clooney, McDormand delivers a weirdly nice plastic-surgery-obsessed narcissist, and so on and so forth. None of it adds up as the audience is pulled into the slapstick yet bloody antics of the whole ensemble. And the ending just leaves the men in the lurch and the women getting out from difficult stuff. I've always known the Coens to be misanthropes but at least they were entertaining as their characters wallowed in life's drudgeries. Here I just wanted to smack a few of them around myself before leaving the theater in disappointment. There's more entertainment in a kindergarten class even if the kids can't Burn After Reading.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Locker Room Chic Flick

Peter (Jason Segel from TV's How I Met Your Mother) is a bit adrift. He's a musician who putzes about his apartment in his pajamas eating kid's cereal out of a huge mixing bowl. Creatively he's stuck, his music just filler for his girlfriend Sarah Marshall's TV show. When she gives him the heave-ho, he's crushed and thinks escaping to Hawaii will help him heal. In true romantic movie style, he runs into Sarah and her new Euro-trash rocker boyfriend. Comedic tragedy moments unfold.

At it's heart, this film is basically every female-focused romantic comedy from Gary Marshall fodder to Bridgette Jones. So what is new with this formula? Segel has switched the struggling girl looking for love with the dumped guy and smuts up the dialog and nudity I can only assume to bring in the guy audience - Knocked Up and 40-Year Old Virgin style. Some of this is brilliant - Peter is completely bare and exposed literally (best use of full-frontal nudity I've seen on film!) when Sarah (Kristin Bell from TV's Veronica Mars) breaks up with him. Later in the film this same device is used for a completely different means, showing openness instead of vulnerability. At other times the smut is just raunchy as if the guys are just trying to crack each other up with locker room antics - simulated sex with giant chess pieces, the Euro boyfriend (Russel Brand) trying to hump anything in sight. Unfortunately many of these flaws come up with the supporting cast of character, perhaps during their improv riffing that supposedly happens on set. No one was horrible in the supporting parts but Russell Brand was particularly atrocious as the over-the-top leathered-up rock star with the British accent. He played the Lothario so overtly, it was hard to not run screaming from the theater. If the film kept focused on the solid writing and character development, I think this film could have moved from the frivolous-but-fun made-for-TV category over to a classically great romantic comedy. And yes, the character really do evolve - Peter does find some creative motivation and the women aren't just doormats, even though they are, like most male fantasies, super-gorgeous - much more so than the men. So perhaps this is an interim step for writer Jason Segel and, if paired with a good director and editor, his next film will move out of the men's stall and into celluloid gold.

Date with Milos Forman

Dos Caminos

Met up with my film friend E at Dos Caminos for Tex Mex before heading to MoMA. New York City's idea of Tex Mex is to do things table side and serve very small portions in beautiful displays. Oh, and they charge a tone for this. DC's guacamole isn't as good as mine but it is the best I've had in NYC restaurants. I had tacos al carbon. The meat was lean and nicely grilled with good salsa and pico de gallo but the corn tortillas were lacking both flavor and texture - definitely not freshly made.

Decathlon and Audition (Konkurs)
Milos Forman blends sports with sound

Lucky for me E is a member of MoMA so I got my ticket to the Milos Forman films for only $5!

The short starting the evening was Decathlon, filmed in the 1970s. It was a fun and reverently funny juxtapositioning of scenes of local Munich musicians with scenes of various athletes performing in several events. It was a lovely tribute to the past and future, making a wonderful visual dance of the art of performance.

Audition is really two films. The first follows a very similar theme we just saw in Decathlon, shifting the lens between teenage musicians in two different traditional Czech bands and the same boys at motor cross races. Each boy is seen getting direction and advice from their band leaders. Someplace in the middle of the roar from the motorbikes and the competitive sounds of the bands, the boys must deal with the repercussions of there choices and value of both self worth and dedication to time.

Similarly, in the second story, Forman takes us into the pop-current sound of the 1960s. A young singer's confidence is shaken a bit when her band leader questions her ability to hit the high notes. We here her and the band perform for a local crowd. Later we see many young girl singers, including one we know lied to her boss to take time off from work, auditioning for a more famous band. We watch and see the girls hopes and dreams, fears and bravado, come through in their auditions. The halls and room are packed with potential wanna-bes. The girl from the first band has come to audition but something seems to hold her back.

Both stories show the transition the country is going through, trying to hold onto the familiar, keeping the faith and lessons of the wise conductors, but wanting the race and pulse of the new, the exciting, the modern, the famous. Lovely music set to visual motion surprisingly creates a story universal to all. I only I hope I can hold onto the best of both worlds.

Oscar rants

Are you ready …. without my old film friends from Seattle, I’m going to have to bitch through the Oscars, MST3000 style, via this blog post. And away we go ….
(almost all images from WireImages)

Barbara Walters kissing Harrison Ford’s ass. Give it up BaWa, he’s bouncin’ with stick-figure Calista now. She gushed that nothing has changed with his looks except the earring recommended by Jimmy Buffet. Are you joking? Go rent Indian Jones (the original, which still remains one of my favorite substitute-for-porn films for the female fantasy world I sometimes live in). The current version of Ford, while humble and caring, is rather weathered given all those planes, trucks, horses, and airplanes he’s had to bring under control. Advice to all mid-life crisis men, including the late Ed Bradley, DO NOT get an earring; taking style advise from Jimmy Buffett is ill advised. They don’t call his fans Parrotheads ‘cause they're smart.

Milking the popularity of Miley Cyrus. BaWa will stoop to new levels to keep her job.

Regis having no clue about the Notre Dame game when Clooney takes him off script – is Regis deaf? OMG, George’s gf is wearing 1930s wallpaper for a dress! And that haircolor only comes in a box. Bet she doesn’t have carpet to worry about matching, I guess. Didn’t he know how good I look in a snug backless number? That should have been me on his arm L Ah George, when will you drop that restraining order so I can get a little closer?

Jennifer Garner praising her stylist while sporting horrible bangs that hide her beautiful eyes and face. She is squishing out of her black crinkly strapless dress. Her boobs ooze out the top like a white trash girl in a tube top. But dang, that is one booTful necklace.

John Travolta with spray-on hair.

Regis pushing kid-crack drug Miley Cyrus – oh yeah, Disney = ABC = commercial advertising of merchandise dressed up as teen artistry.

Daniel Day Lewis looking grey and oh-so-not hot like he should … with his wife wearing a large black gem blob where cleavage should be and red bows where bare shoulders should be.

Regis interviewing bleacher fan Sarah Golden for the senior crowd. Sarah - yellow is not a good color for you.

Argh! More Miley Cyrus being commoditized

Ah, a refreshing Ellen Page.

Hillary Swank looking regal which is hard to pull off with a shoulder strapped black lace dress and huge horse-mouth teeth.

Regis hanging out with Enchanted songsters who look more like teamsters? Oh, he just wanted to showcase the Bavarian and wedding girls! He knows a few by name? Should his wife be concerned or it that his earpiece giving him cues?

Argh, Regis behind the scenes still, now with the conductor talking about smoke … probably a musician tokin’ up for the performance.

AH, Regis pronouncing Javier Bardem as X-avier! Yikes.

YEAH! End of the inane pre-show banter. Please give me John Stewart. It’s Hollywood for God’s sake … go with the good Jewish humor. Get rid of this morning show coffee klatch junk.

Huh? Weird montage of Arnold as UPS driver speeding through iconic film moments – King Kong, North by Northwest, Jurassic Park, Aliens, lots of aliens and monsters, on and on - to deliver the Oscars? Not sure what that was about.

John, I love you. “Thank God for teen pregnancy.”

John, I hate you ... voting Dem, Obama name jokes, losing it …

Obligatory cut to Jack Nicholson, the only update to his look is switching traditional Ray-Ban sunglasses to a wrap-around set. Guess he needs sunglasses indoors to shield him from the rays of stage lights ... or is it cataract surgery?

Dennis Hopper drug-zoned joke. Semi-funny.

Olympia Dukakis stripper joke not as funny as the “I hope you’re enjoying the pay cut” to stripper (excuse me, exotic dancer) -turned-writer Diablo Cody.

Overall, sort of tepid opening.

Yikes! Jennifer Garner, presenting for costume design, looks like a human black-feathered dust mop, only appreciated by cleaning porno-freaks. That hair dropping into your face – yikes – did you learn nothing from Donald Trump! Elizabeth wins. Ugly! The winner is wearing a HUGE, drapey, old-lady Liberty of London scarf for a dress.

George Clooney tripping over teleprompter lines while introducing obligatory clips from prior 80-years-worth of Oscar shows. Snooze … except for the Chris Rock segment.

Get Smart must be a Disney flick because here comes Ann Hathaway and Steve Carrell. WoW! Ann Hathaway looks fabulous in red with cascading roses, very romantic and feminine with glowing face – super lovely. Animated Feature Oscar goes to Ratatouille. Yeah! This was a great film, period.

Kathryn Heigel, nervous but adorable. Unfortunately in one-shoulder red dress - the color is wrong for her with matching big red lips EEK, clownface; her hair is a mess of sprayed short curls. At least she gets the pronunciation of the French names wonderfully when La Vie en Rose wins for MakeUp.

Boring song for Enchanted – Happy Working Song? Is this Snow White on meth?

Montage of Katherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas – ick, he looks so much older than her now it seems rather pervy … and the ? inadvertent ? joke from her about not being around when he got his Oscar … he replies that she had been born, though.

The Rock? Presenting? Oh yeah, he was in some Disney flick, wasn't he? Golden Compass wins for Visual Effects – really crappy movie – I thought the water rapid scenes in Ratatouille were better.

Cate Blanchett looking very preggers in a purple V-neck number O-Mighty Isis would be proud to wear. Art Direction goes to Sweeny Todd. You get an Oscar for grey-themed London? London is grey. Bleck. And what is wrong with that woman’s face? Stop with the plastic surgery when your eyebrows are where your hairline should start.

A rundown clip of too many past Supporting Actor winners … why? Why, in the love for time, do we have to sit through this crap and Cuba Gooding reprising his Jerry McGuire role? Was that a Disney film? If I wanted to see old Oscar shows, I’d rent the DVDs. Just put up a picture of the damn signature mouse, run the DisneyWorld vacation ads and get on with the show!

Next up, Supporting Actor. Jennifer Hudson, thankfully, is wearing white … another contender for Isis or WonderWoman’s sisters on the Island. No, wait, she'd Betty Rubble from the Flintstones! Javier Bardem’s Anton Sugar in No Country for Old Men really should be nominated as a Leading Actor role. Of course the AARP vote splits between Holdbrook and Wilkenson so Javier scores a deserved win. In Spanish, he thanks his mom, grandparents, father, something about "this was for Spain and all the people in Spain" – most of the Cali audience could probably understand his speech; it is the state language, right?

Quick witted John comes back with a translation, “I think he gave his mom directions to the library.”

Huh? Javier kisses him mom on the lips – ugh – but at least he didn’t linger. Flashback to Angelina Jolie and her brother … creepy.

Not-so-funny montages – binoculars & periscopes, bad dream wakeups – silly but time wasted.

Fabulous Keri Russell looking glowing in a candle-gold strapless ball-gown with a mod three-strand sparkly rock necklace, nicely but softly pulled back hairdo.

I’m back in a Harlem revival church with a gospel choir from August Rush? Huh? I missed something. Is that a film? When was that released. And here I thought I saw all the Academy nominated films. At least the little girl can sing!

Owen Wilson is out of rehab? Wow, that’s some styled Breck-fluffy golden hair. Live Action shorts – which I actually saw – goes to The Mozart of Pickpockets – sigh. It should have gone to Tango Argentine.

Bee Movie? Was that Disney? Oh, a chance for a bees-in-film montage. Really, do we need this many montages? Animated Short film, I get it now! Peter and the Wolf win. Red dress again – that is the color de jour for the ladies tonight. The dude brought up the doll? Weird.

Grrr, another montage of past winners for Best Supporting Actresses. Alan Arkin presents. If Cate Blanchett doesn’t win for her portrayal of Bob Dylan in I’m Not There, the Academy is senile. WHAT! Tilda Swinton wins for Michael Clayton????????? She barked her lines and rubbed her sweaty armpits like SNL’s Superstar Catholic Girl. She is a great actress but an Oscar for this role? And she looks horrid in some black velvet caped thing – making a joke about Clooney’s rubber nippled Batman suit when she herself looks like a bat. Pale skin, little beady eyes, black wing - she's one-armed batgirl! It is confirmed – George has the Academy by the balls.

OMG, I now know why there are all the red dresses! The Coke commercial just clued me in. It is part of that damn women’s heart charity thing started by Mrs. Ditzhead Bush. You can enter to win Heidi Klum’s red carpet red dress – like anyone could ever make that dress look as good as her – get out!

Jessica Alba in purple chiffon and feathers describes the very boring job of presenting for technical awards which, of course, were given out prior to the main show – cause it is always best to push the geeks into a corner as to not dim the wattage from the celebrity show. Alba looks lovely and you can’t really tell she’s pregnant in the nicely draped chifon ... and great color for her!

Josh Brolin and the brogue guy from Atonement, (James McAvoy?) present for Adapted Screenplay. Coens win, for No Country for Old Men which is OK but I would have preferred Anderson’s update for Upton Sinclair’s book Oil - There Will Be Blood. Opps, did the ‘other’ Coen forget what to say … stutter, and just “Thanks.” Actually, that was nice and refreshing. Thanking agents, loved ones, cast, teachers, Jesus, God, Ganesh, and anyone they ever met gets rather boring. Then cut to the book author, Cormac McArthy. Guess they really couldn’t do that for Upton Sinclair without violating some laws.

Clips on Academy voting? John Stewart was NOT joking - they were preparing this filler material in case the writer’s strike hadn’t ended!

Miley Cyrus AGAIN! Are they trying to torture me? For those on the West coast, you’ll get to see more of her, much more, during the Barbara Walter’s suck-up interview piece.

More singing, to bongo drums. The singer is dancing about in a strange crepe-paper strapless dress that looks a bit like a craft project. The top seems to stand on its own. Dancing, flipping guys, brides, mariachis and a Jimmy Cliff impersonator try to jazz things up. Is that Chenoweth singing? They let her leave Broadway for this junk?

Baby joke … Angelina Jolie wins.

Fat, curly headed guys from those stupid male-idiot flicks, Knocked Up and Superbad, scat a bit giving fat, horny, Jewish boys something to hope for. Bourne Ultimatum wins for Sound Editing. Sensitive ponytail man with earring (don’t you only need one of those to nail your stereotype?) and semi-large woman trip over their acceptance speech. Bourne Ultimatum wins for Sound Mixing. Note to film maker, hire the most Academy members for your film and you can win an Oscars, maybe two, at least in the minor categories.

ANOTHER montage of past best actress winners. OMG, Marlin Matlin looked horrid in purple lace, bad hair and glasses for her win. Bet she'll always regret that look forever burned into Oscar history. Forest Whitaker works the stage. Reminds me, what the hell happened to The Great Debaters? Oh yeah, that was a great film with a great cast that looks nothing like Academy voters. Thank goodness the country is more open to Presidential candidates with more color.

Marion Cotillard wins for La Vie en Rose! What a steal! Those old Academy coots love French women. We have a new replacement for Juliette Binoche. She looks a little weird in her white, fish-scale, mermaid swimsuit gown designed by the very theatrical, avant garde designer Gaultier. Well, at least it wasn’t a swan.

John playing some video tennis game with someone – a teen star, perhaps a Disney girl? Not sure. Is this game produced by Disney? Why?

Colin Farrell looking a little greasy and scruffy but I’d still smooch him. I’m a sucker for the accent. Ah, my favorite song – from Once. I saw them (Swell Season) at Gramercy Theater on 23^rd St. They are great musicians and the film was pure loveliness. It was the most romantic film of the year … right after Transformers. Huh? Did they make them shorten the song?

Onto Jack. Are they required to always bring him out for the Oscars. I do love how he sort of chuckles to fill space instead of saying UH or SO or LIKE. Maybe I should try working that into my speech pattern.

Best Picture montage again. What’s the count now? Eight or nine? I’m losing count.

Rene Zellweger arrives in very tight silver strapless gown that, in miniature, could be a curvy Christmas tree ornament. She looks beautiful but the color sort of washes her out a bit. At least there are no huge red clown lips or bangs hiding her face. Sound editing goes to Bourne Ultimatum.

OMG, some of the tinsel came off of Rene’s dress and Nicole Kidman is wearing it as a necklace. She introduces Robert Boyle (not the Boyle’s Law guy but the art director) - Lifetime Achievement winner. Boy, he talks very slowly. But I loved the short film showing some of my favorite sets from Hitchcock films. This was the only really correct place to use the montage.

Penelope Cruz continues the black feather duster dress contest with a strapless number with actual feathers gracing the edges and strange draping before flaring out for the bottom. Ah, she’s so gorgeous; she could wear a turtle shell and still look radiant … and I’d still made jokes about the dress. Austria wins Best Foreign Film with The Counterfeiter.

Ah, eye-candy McDreamy Patrick Demsey arrives to introduce … another Enchanted song? How many songs were in this film? Are they all nominated? Help! I’m sucked into a Disney ballroom scene. All the preteen girls have gone to bed by now; why subject us adults to this? Perhaps this is some fantasy for all those potential brides who like to get married in the Castle at Disney World. They pay big bucks for that, I kid you not. I even saw Disney pimping young preteens and a few mentally retarded adults at the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique.

John 'e-meter' Travolta arrives with spray-on hair to announce the winners Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova for Best Song. Yeah! They are really moved and emotional. John Stewart makes light of his speech (the Academy rudely cut her off) saying, “Boy is he arrogant.”

Joke about John Travolta’s plane having its lights on.

Yeah! John brings out Marketa because she was rudely cut off. True gentleman. She gives cheers to small, independent artists. One small voice for hope. Love it.

John jokes about Glen and Marketa having the Oscar’s kissing … "but they’re two men" ... "but it's Hollywood."

Cameron Diaz stumbles over pronouncing ‘cinematography’ but jokes very well through it. Cinematography goes rightfully to There Will Be Blood. Love that film.

I have to get out my hanky … time for the dead people montage. Wonder how the crowd will react to Heath Ledger. Miss Moneypenny? She was da bomb! Talent agents? I guess we need them to put the stars in roles. Hmm. Deborah Kerr’s Eternity and Affair will always be classics. They ended with Heath. That seemed rather concise and quick. What’s the count now with montages? Nine?

At least this year’s Oscar stage is rather normal – just circles, ovals, and soft blue light with silver accenting. No overdosing on gold. It was weird having John enter via the center stage tube thing.

Amy Adams in a strange dark green strapless dress with bra-like reinforced bodice announces Atonement the winner for Original Score.

Tom Hanks introduces Bagdad military soldiers to introduce nominees for documentary short. Huh? Why? Is this some ‘salute to our troops’ b.s.? It is annoying. Freeheld wins. Guess it is about same-sex marriage. At thirty-eight minutes, that doesn’t seem short. Taxi to the Dark Side wins for feature documentary. Oh, they must have known a critical film about military torture would win so they’d balance the politics with the shorts nominations read by soldiers? Whatever.

Harrison Ford is looking old and he seems to be talking a bit slow. Best Screenplay goes to Diablo Cody. Those old fart Academy guys just loved voting for a former stripper – heck, they probably enjoyed her show at one point in time. But I gotta agree it was a fun script. She, however, is dressed in a horrid leopard print thing that she borrowed from Wilma Flintstone. Unfortunately her HUGE arm tattoo clashed with the outfit and the dress billowed open when she walked causing her to grab it trying to hide her legs in modesty … but isn’t she comfy showing skin? Honestly, she may have looked a bit trashy but her heart shone through in her acceptance speech, tears welling up, honestly honored by the award and ever so humble. Big KUDOS for a job well done. See, women can write great stuff! Tamara Murphy and Nancy Oliver were also nominated; yeah! Take notice Hollywood.

Montage 27: past best actors. Helen Miriam presents wearing a weird red dress (another charity thing?) with silver lace sleeves. Ick. She usually has such great style but this looks like a silver spider tried to make a meal of her arms. Damn, why couldn’t they show the naked fight scene for Viggo Mortensen. Daniel Day Lewis deservedly wins. He kneels before Helen for an Oscar knighting. What is with the silver earring hoops? I hope that is for some role he has.

Montage 101: directors. In tradition, last year’s winner, Martin Scorsese, announces the Coen’s for Best Achievement in Directing. Ethan makes the same speech, “Uh, thank you.” Joel Coen waxes about their first film, Henry Kissinger: Man on the Go. Personally, I think Paul Thomas Anderson should have won.

Denzel Washington, with an unattractive goatee beard thing hangin’ on his face (hopefully for a film), announces the winner for Best Picture – No Country for Old Men. Bleck. There Will Be Blood should have won. Boring producer drones on and gives accolades to Miramax. Strange that the cast didn’t come onto the stage.

It’s over! My butt is sore. Time to switch channels and find the gay guys and catty women picking apart the fashion delights and disasters. Here are my picks for the evening:

Best joke: Thank God for teen pregnancy
Worst joke: Olympia Dukakis ties with Barak Obama name riff
Scariest kiss: Javier Bardem and mom
Sexiest dress: Rene Zellweger
Best Feather Duster Dress: Penelope Cruz edging out Jennifer Garner because she used actual feathers!
Worst philanthropic move: red dresses! It was a menstrual nightmare out there.
Best cartoon dress: Diablo (Wilma Flintstone) with a slight edge on Cate (Isis) and Jennifer Husdon (Betty Rubble)
Scariest dress: Tilda’s capped crusader
Most lovable winners: Glen and Marketa
Biggest mistake: Tilda over Cate
Thickest brogue: Glen Hansard edging out McAvoy and Farrell
Best recovery: John bringing Marketa back onstage for her words of hope and inspiration
Sexiest man: Josh Brolin looking scrumptious without scruff; Diane is one lucky gal

SUMMARY: This had to be the most boring Oscar show ever. John, when did you become so bland? – ARGH!

My predictions for next year – new host, Jack still in front row, and LOTS of Disney/ABC pimping.

And PLEASE, for the love of fashion, get rid of the red anywhere but the carpet – I refer to the carpet on the floor.

New Boots and Shorts

I love boots. I have one pair of black Justin boots and a pair of grey Tony Lamas which have been re-heeled, the soles hanging on by threads. So when I am back in SA I just had to stop by Boot Hill and get myself a new pair. I like the classic mid-calf, point-toe style. Never was a Roper gal. So I got a pair of classic dark maroon Justins with great stitching. I'm an Aggie so I have to use maroon over burgundy. Wearing a pair of Western boots is heaven. I feel a wonderful sense of height, and this tallness in so comfortable it gives me a sort of confident swagger ... plus boots are so comfortable. So now I'm a three boot gal. I'm happy.

Dad and I hopped over to the Bijou at Crossroads to watch the live action short films chosen for the Academy Awards. All the selections are foreign films, although the UK entry, Tonto Woman feels and looks like an American Western. Overall, the selection ranged from what is best about foreign films - unpredictable and delightful - to the worst about foreign films - dreary, long, and pointless.

The first, Tanghi Argentini, was the best. In thirteen minutes, this Belgian film was a complete joy with a very unpredictable ending. An office worker is chatting online after hours with a lover of tango when he's caught by the cleaning lady. Since it is Christma, he uses the excuse that he is there late searching for Christmas presents for his coworkers. He makes a date with the woman but is confronted with the problem that he doesn't know how to tango. He enlists the help of a friend at work and soon is finding his passion in the steps. Lovingly told, I was amazed that I, the jaded viewer who has seen many a film, was pleasantly surprised by the ending. Never did the dialog or the pacing give away where the story was leading you, each word, each frame added up to a delightful dance of its own. One of the best films I've seen all year regardless of length.

Unfortunately the next selection was atrocious. A deadly long 40 minute film about cancer and death. At Night is a Danish film and damn are they depressing. Filmed in horribly depressing grey tones, we are subjected to watching three girls struggle and die from their disease, and even the one moment where the director could have delivered a happy moment - celebration of New Year's Eve - the slow motion and sad, sad, torturous music wouldn't even allow the girls to enjoy each other's company. Even cancer wards aren't this suicidally melancholy. Pain, pain, sadness, and more pain last way too long only to end with a phone call that is supposed to give a sliver of hope which it doesn't. I just wanted to smack the girl on the phone with a big whoopie cushion to see if anyone in this film could enjoy a simple laugh, for even a brief moment.

The Substitute, and Italian film, started goofy - high school kids milling about hallways with a girl walking by not knowing the sign on her back saying, "Speak slowly, I'm a natural blonde." Yes, high school sucks. Then the substitute shows up and stirs things up, playing with the kids and acting more like a peer than a teacher. He gets the kids to act like barnyard animals and takes away a cherished ball from the fat kid in class. But soon we find out this teacher is not whom he appears to be and the fat kid is determined to reclaim his ball. Dedicated to the kid in all of us, the part that doesn't want to conform to social norms and authoritative constraints. It's a fun little romp.

The Mozart of Pickpockets, from France, carries on this fun theme as it follows two inept theives through the streets of Paris. Their French looks and nationality makes them perfect accomplices in a con with Spanish professional pick-pockets; they act like police and arrest the guys before any real police can intervene. But one day the real cops do arrive and this leaves the two men out of a job and unable to work their own scams. But during the bust, they find themselves shackled with a mute Spanish boy who has no place to go once the other men are arrested. The two Frenchmen bring him into their home and soon find themselves trying to figure out there next move, unaware the kid has a natural talent for thievery himself. Good laughs and a great finish - with a big child's smile.

The Tonto Woman was from UK. It follows the lustful gaze of a Mexican cattle thief as he interjects himself into the life of the Tonto Woman. She's kept in a remote home far from her husband and the town. Her husband is embarrassed by her chin tattoo, received when she was captured and kept by a Tonto tribe. Her husband recovered her but never loved or accepted her. The Mexican character gave the director the opportunity to film her half naked, and later fully naked, supposedly to show her beauty. But that is the only worth this film showed in her - her beauty. You never learn anything about her and the story quickly dissolves into a male battle over her, as if whe were property just like the cattle they covet. Sad and degrading ... but beautifully filmed; interesting reflection on the story itself.

Manon Lescaut

Carriage return

Since I was in San Antonio and my dad loves opera, probably more than me, we decided to go see Manon. Secretly I wanted to see how it compared to the live production. The pros to seeing the HD live show are the behind-the-scenes moments. The cons are the technical difficulties in the theater - forgetting to turn the lights down, letting folks in the theater half-hour, even an hour after the start, the dick using his cell phone to chat with his late-arriving guest and then using the glowing phone to wave to here where he was sitting! Argh!

Rene Flemming served as a wonderful and informed guide of the opera and the backstage tour. Flemming's interview with the soprano showcased her love of the role and her youthful exuberance which included her performing the splits. Yikes, I can't do that! Flemming also interviewed Maestro Levine, the conductor, the tenor and the backstage crew including the animal trainers. I was right that in the production I saw on Monday that the stage and crew was positioned to have a horse-drawn carriage come onto stage but none did; in this version, the carriage did make an impressive appearance. But the second Act, the interior of an opulent and large boudoir reminiscent of something seen in Versailles, didn't come across as lush and rich on screen; it looked more green and less gilded. And the cameras used too many closeups. The final Act is this beautiful and stark landscape on a sandy beach. The set is really designed to showcase the fabulous lighting direction from Met staff. In full view, the audience experiences a symbolic and beautiful slow transition to a Louisiana sunset, glowing and gorgeous as the couple says their final goodbyes. This is completely lost, however, in the film version since they tightly stay framed on the couple. And my dad's reaction, "It took her a loooong time to die." So obviously, this opera is not for everyone.

Movie Sunday

Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story
Scary Movie meets VH1 rockumentary
A very talented group of writers and a sharp cinematic parody lens bring this spoof on the movie music biopic out of potential gutterville and into frolicking funland. Dewey Cox grows up poor, southern, and stupid. Hitting on every cliche - white guy stealing black music, marrying his underage sweetheart, abandoning family #1 for the road, sex, and drugs, and setting out on a few comebacks, Dewey's story takes us through 50 years of musical genres without having to suffer through a crap plot like Forrest Gump. I laughed heartily at many of the scenes and situations and loved the cameos by folks like Lyle Lovett and Eddie Veder. The writers had a wealth of material to draw from and when on script, it was creative gold. Occasionally I found a few moments dragging or some banter going no where which made me wonder i this riffing was unscripted improv. But there were few of these moments and overall it was a good escapist movie. I liked Johc C. Riley's reigned in performance and I loved all my favorite comedians in supporting roles - best comedy ensemble I've seen pulled together since Animal House. And stay through the credits to see a clip of the 'real' Dewey Cox.

Atonement
Titanic meets The End of the Affair
An anorexic rich girl (Keira Knightly) and a handsome, pouty young man (John McAvoy) of servant class find themselves lustfully drawn together. Unfortunately a bratty younger sister and World War II are destine to pull them apart. This film pushes all the traditional buttons trying hard to be important, romantic and epic while contrasting love against war-torn European devastation. All the excessive gore and glory is captured with sepia tones through a filtered lens: a long camera shot through the massive soldier build-up on the beaches of France, the skull wound of a solider ready to die, the romance of the aristocratic English countryside. What the film lacks in passion, purpose or pathos. The resolution and regret at the end isn't cathartic or redemptive but an unearned confessional of sorts. I felt a bit cheated, as if my lover had been married the whole time during our affair. So what was left was a nostalgic sense of visual romance, nothing more ... and the feeling that I could snap Keira like a twig if she ever got scrappy with me. Oh, at it sure makes smoking glamorous again; just what we need :(

Sweeney Todd
Jeffery Domer goes Dickensian
What goes well with revenge, murder and meat pies made of human flesh - musical number? NOT! While I love the macabre humor of Steven Sondheim's musical when presented in the intimacy of the theater, I did not like it as a fully orchestrated film replete with semi-professional singing by a cast much too pretty to play the nasty, dirty roles or Benjamin Barker and Mrs. Lovett. Under with wickedly visual Gothic touch of Tim Burton, this film could have has so much more fun had it not tried to confine itself to the musical numbers in the stage production (and I've seen the recent revival in New York and loved it). The beauty of Sondheim's strained discords is they work to make the gruesome story more eerie - with a small set of instruments, it works better when the actors (Patti LuPone played the tuba!) have to awkwardly play notes and you don't have the luxury of sweeping crescendos and hundreds of musicians playing perfectly together. Another problems with the film adaptation is the strained and distracting breaks into song by folks who really can't make this work - I love Alan Rickman but he loses villainy credence when he starts to croon. And Helena Bonham Carter is so weak. Johnny Depp does a fair job singing but every time a song popped up I just kept wanting Burton to return to the strange characters, textured costumes and sets, and visual creepiness he's known for - I loved the scenes of the chair being built and the THUD-CRACK when the bodies hit the floor, head first. So while many may like this reverent take on the musical version of Sweeney Todd, and I love the musical on stage, I wished they would have taken a chance and abandoned the notes for something more film-inspiring and original. I think it would have made it more marketable, too. But I do have to note that I did revel in Sacha Baron Cohen's interpretation of Sr. Pirelli. She was a wonder in satin-blue smirking splendor in an otherwise gray show. Excuse me while I go use the men's room.

There Will Be Blood
Citizen Kane without Rosebud memories
America is a strong, determined, hardworking, greedy and successful country. Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis) represents all that is American is his driven destiny to conquer the oil buried deep in the ground of California. His quest to dominate the land could be viewed retrospectively as exploitive but Plainview clearly sees the challenge of seizing this treasure as a smart way to make money. So which comes first - the drive to conquer or the thirst to dominate? Plainview's soft-spoken way does not let the viewer make that determination easily. At times you admire his hardworking ways and ingenuity: he spends long hours at great physical peril working this mines and fields of the west; he designs and builds very innovative rigs and drills to advance his profession. At times you feel he has a heart - sharing a moment of joy with a baby. Other times you think it is all an act, his colloquial way of speaking, "I'm just an oil man so I'm going to speak plainly". One thing is clear - this is a man who will succeed at all cost, even if he has to prostrate himself in front of those he ridicules. To compare Plainview's industrial conquest against another dominant force in the American psyche, faith. Eli Sunday appears to act as the religious moral anchor for the town and soon finds himself in a psychological and physical battle with Plainview. But the men both desire success and no small town sense of community or humanity will reign that desire in. Oil is blood, life, the source of wealth but human blood is the sacrifice to turn this black blood to gold. So we watch as Plainview shows us how America, in its blind quest for blood and black gold, has morally bankrupted itself and turned it's back on humanity. And no false faith could save Plainview and us from our fall from grace.

Much has been said about Danial Day-Lewis's performance and all the high praise is definitely warranted. At times he comes across as a rugged and softly spoken wise cowboy, reminiscent of
Richard Farnsworth. But when his anger uncorks, there is no mistaking this character as a myopic, driven, force to be reckoned with. There are points where we see he still has some humanity left, some hope to connect to family blood, the desire to protect his son (Beautiful scene when his son is affected by an accident at a rig). But by the end, his lust and greed have killed any of this hope and we have only a bitter and dangerous shell of a man left. Many critics compare it to Citizen Kane which is predictable given the theme of a man who spends his life chasing success on the grandest of scales only to find it can't satisfy him. But Plainview, unlike Charles Foster Kane, is bitter and has not even an ounce of goodness left in him to cling to. After achieving and conquering his goals, Plainview finds himself with nothing driving him anyone and he attacks all those around him, including his son, H.W. (brutal yet powerful father-son confrontational scene when his son is grown). So without even a found memory like Rosebud to connect Plainview to goodness and joy, he becomes finished, bankrupt in every sense except financially. Bravo to a riveting script and wonderful direction by Paul Thomas Anderson. Bravo to the fabulous editing, leaving some characters and motivations ambiguous. But a big BRAVO to the levitating performance of Danial Day-Lewis who makes a rather despicable character infinitely nuanced and complex beyond any role presented on screen in my movie-watching experience. The best film I've seen in years.