Frequent Citations

Chinatown

It's been a hectic few days. Wednesday was devoted to moving GirlChild's stuff to her new apartment. Boy and I spent all day on that, and she still has things left here in the flat. Then I spent most of the night packing and organizing things to store with my parents until we get ourselves situated and find a storage solution on our new coast. Thursday Boy and I packed the rented SUV as full as we could, drove to my parents, and stashed a few tidy piles of boxes in their basement. We then collapsed until Friday morning, when I delivered him to his dorm, ran around getting some of the things he needed and helping him set up his room, and then finally drove home (traffic was very light, Mother).

So by last night I wasn't up for doing much more than sprawling on the couch and watching a movie. I popped in Chinatown, freshly delivered by Netflix, and settled in to be awed. I was, in a word, disappointed.

It's important to remember, when reading my opinions about movies or books, that I am shallow. Also, the only tragedies I'm willing to subject myself to are Greek drama, Shakespeare, and sometimes the news. Otherwise, I prefer to avoid pointless violence, stunted character development, and wallowing in misery.

I will say that the movie was beautifully filmed, and it was interesting to see such a young Nicholson. But the ending felt both contrived and awful. And it was too obvious: look at the horrible man and his horrible deeds and know that he will be repeating those horrible deeds, unmoved by the devastation he wreaks. Bah. The movie does have some excellent dialogue in it though.

Ah well. We're not moving our dinosaur of a television, so if anyone has recommendations regarding a not-huge flat-screen we can buy after we move, that would be fab.

I Miss Movies

TFL, a friend from school, and I all went to see Iron Man last night. It was utterly fantastic. True has the perfect write-up for it (goes to show what a film major can do for you).

I hadn't seen a movie since last summer. Unacceptable. There are a couple of others out right now that I want to see too. So if anyone out there is in the mood for movies, let me know.

After all, I can't study for the bar ALL the time, can I?

(Don't answer that.)

Literary Me

I've gone on a Shakespeare kick while knitting presents. We watched Shakespeare in Love the other night, which has some of the best costumes in it. I love Ben Afl*ck in it--a minor role, but he plays it really nicely as someone with major presence but only on the periphery of this story.

Anyway, after watching that I loaded up on Shakespeare. Yesterday I watched Twelfth Night and Love's Labour's Lost. Twelfth Night is, in my opinion, much the better play. How can you not adore a play with a line about "Patience on a Monument?"  But I may be prejudiced by the versions I watched yesterday. Twelfth Night was in a relatively timeless setting--some European location, sometime before 1900, you know the type. But Love's Labour's Lost was set in 1939 and turned into a musical--which could have been a brilliant move, if it weren't for the shoddy casting and abysmal choreography and generally painful singing.

Not every actor can pull off Shakespeare. And while Nathan L*ne makes a wonderful clown, because he is wonderful in anything, shrill American accents do nothing for already difficult to understand Shakespearean English. Some of the cast was guilty of rushing the dialogue and at times I had to wonder if they had a clue what they were saying. (S*lverstone was particularly bad in this regard. She was fun in Clueless, but should never be allowed to perform Shakespeare.)

And then there was the singing and dancing. Ye gods, it was bad. The lone exception: D*nzel W*shington has a pleasant voice and is a graceful dancer. I would venture to guess that he has taken lessons at some point. But the other men . . . were no Fred Astaires (even as singers, and Fred Astaire was not exactly the world's finest voice). As for the women (*shudder*) I cringed every time they opened their mouths--except, of course, for Geraldine McEwan, who was wonderful as always. The actress playing Rosaline wasn't completely awful.

The thing is, I love 1950s musicals. And even if I didn't, I could appreciate the technical mastery the actors showed in their singing and dancing. They worked at it, they took classes, being able to do it and well was part of their job. You didn't wince every time they tried to sing, or look away from the world's most wooden attempts at dancing. If Branagh* (the director) was trying for a spoof, he missed badly. If he was seriously trying to make a musical, he should fire his casting director. (I think he cast it himself.)

Eh. Apparently I really disliked it. Pity, because it's a great play. Twelfth Night (directed by Trevor Nunn) really was lovely, though. Where does Helena B-C get all that hair? Goodness. Also, Viola and Sebastian looked eerily alike--amazing.

Today I think I'll queue up Henry V, and either MacBeth or As You Like It, depending on my mood. I'm a little worried that my knitting will get very, very tight if I knit while watching people mutter about not being able to get their hands clean.

*For the record, on Branagh: I loved Much Ado and could watch it a million times, I think Henry V is generally successful, and I think he should be made to suffer for Hamlet. No play deserves that sort of mistreatment, but especially  not Hamlet. Yes, I even prefer Mel Gibson's version. Olivier is still the best (not perfect, but the best performance).

Boring Borat

I seldom post movie reviews because I seldom go to movies these days and, even when I do, what do I know about films? But anyway.

We have our own peculiar rating system in this house. The best rating a movie can get is 0 z's, meaning TFL never dozed off at all. The worst rating is 4 z's, meaning he dropped off immediately and never watched another moment.

Borat: about 3 z's. There are moments of supreme humor, yes. Some brilliantly funny scenes -- I especially enjoyed the elevator portion of the chase scene -- are interspersed with a certain amount of repetitious ho-hum. This movie is definitely not grandparent safe. Borat is an equal-opportunity bigot and slammed pretty much everyone I can think of, directly or indirectly.

I'll grant that I wasn't particularly in the mood for it. I'll also grant that I got increasingly grouchy as I had to keep poking TFL so he would quit snoring. Normally I adore irreverent and off-the-wall humor, but this movie lacks the flashes of whip-smart humor in Monty Python or Mel Brooks's slyness.

I only went because of power outage and logistics issues.

Smartest Guys In The Room

I finally got around to seeing Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room. It's more than thought-provoking. Here's the important information about the film that you probably won't find in all the reviews: the sound track is fantastic. Brilliantly done.

But, as we all remember -- "Burn, baby, burn." Revolting.

Poor, Sore Brain

Yesterday was Law Review Boot Camp, all day long. It was exhausting -- too much information, too many decisions to make (we picked cite checks). By the time it ended most of us were zombies. I went home and crashed for a couple of hours before I could even hold a conversation.

But I blew off the LR party (sorry, guys) and went to see Little Miss Sunshine with Boy and TFL. We loved it. TFL didn't sleep at all, even though we went to the late show, so that tells you a lot about how good it was.

And today has been lots of intensely detailed work for my summer job, and a certain amount of firm research for the upcoming fun and games known as OCI, heaven help us all.

So my brain hurts. A lot. I am now, however, going to take off to see my old band. Yay!

Because One Picture Is Not Enough

Eye-candy!

"I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody..."

A few of us die-hard movie fans met up at the park to watch On the Waterfront.

Oh, oh my. I'd somehow never seen it before. If you haven't seen it, go get it now. If you've never seen Brando when he was young, then run, don't walk! This movie shot right to the top of my list of favorites.

It won a bazillion (8) Oscars and deserved every one of them. Apparently Frank Sinatra was offered the part originally -- and accepted it -- but obviously it ended up going to Brando instead. I love Frank and think he was an entertaining actor, but he would have been So Wrong for this part.

Sigh.

Movie Distractions

Last week fireworks started going off part way through High Noon. They were beautiful fireworks but I can't say they matched the mood of the movie.

There weren't any fireworks last night. But there was a huge, gorgeous full moon. It was spectacular, and nearly as distracting as the fireworks. It's a good thing I'd already seen American Graffiti.

There was also a girl who kept getting up and picking her way through the crowd to ask random people for a light for her cigarette. Not once, mind you, but several times -- and she couldn't ask someone near her, she had to go quite a distance. So when TFL flicked his lighter I warned him not to because she'd see his light and come over. He got the most startled look on his face -- he thought she was already on her way. She must have been looking the other way, though.

Buster's The Best

I went home early (before 10!) and watched Buster Keaton in College. As in all those old Buster Keaton silent movies, he's trying to win the beautiful girl. This time he does it through sports, with some fantastic efforts on the baseball and track fields.

He was so wonderful. If you've never seen one of his movies, by all means make the time and watch. He was, if anything, even more talented than Charlie Chaplin.

If you want to see him in a talkie, check out A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. He has a cameo in it, and steals any scene he's in -- even from Zero Mostel!