So, you know that scene toward the beginning of the movie, when Amy Adams, as Julie Powell, is having "Cobb Salad Luncheon" with three of her alleged friends? And one friend keeps taking phone calls about the $190 million real estate package she's trying to put together, and another one is bragging about her new position as Vice President of Blahblahblah, and the third wants to interview Julie, but can't find a time to "fit her in," and there sits Julie, with her barely above entry level job and living in a walk-up in Queens over a pizza parlor?
Yes. That. Exactly that.
And okay--Julie Powell decides to cook her way through Julia Child and blog about it, and before the end of the year of her project she gets interviewed for the New York Times and literary agents and publishing houses are calling. So she gets a happy ending. But she's a totally narcissistic and self-absorbed jerk and she's mean to her husband and is in no way a role model.
Right?
And of course I'm not jealous or second guessing my own life or anything, just because this blog will be five frickin' years old by the end of the month, and I'm waaaay past 30 and of course I'm not wondering what the hell I am doing with my life, and whether I matter to anybody outside the tiny bounds of my own little life.
Of course not.
So--Julie & Julia. Meryl Streep is a National Treasure, and if Nicolas Cage makes another movie in that franchise he better bloody well find HER at the end of the trail of clues left behind by Woodrow Wilson and the Trilateral Commission or something. We watched the movie with both of the girls, and they literally cheered, cheered, when she came on the screen. Capt. Sweetie and I used the movie as parental propaganda, encouraging them to only date and marry guys who were as good to them as the husbands in the movie.
What is there to say about this movie that hasn't already been said a hundred million ways? Meryl Streep was fabulous, and it's hard to imagine a time when Julia Child was just a diplomatic spouse, and not Julia Child! If I got the time line right, she spent the better part of a decade on that first cookbook, retyping it with carbon paper and onion skins, and all those years she was just Paul Child's wife, moving from post to post across Europe. Only after he retired and they moved back to the US did she find a publisher for that first book. Only then did she become the icon of French cooking we know her to be.
Stanley Tucci--what a wonderful husband he made. He can marry my daughters if he wants to, as long as he remains in character as Paul Child. Amy Adams--is still darling and winsome and even as a self-involved and whiney proto-author, I'll still watch her. Nora Ephron directed this movie, which wasn't "The Hurt Locker," but also wasn't a "typical female rom-com" and she deserves some real credit for this movie.
Because I knew this was going to be what we did this evening as a family, I made more of an effort than I usually do, and I cooked. I mean, I cooked. We had a thyme chicken stew that took two hours to cook on the stove, and I made creme brulee, and since Sursels doesn't really like creme brulee I made two different flavors--white chocolate and dark chocolate, with fresh raspberries and whipped cream and I started researching recipes this morning and I went to the grocery at 4:30 and I COOKED until 8 this evening, when we had the stew and started the movie.
And the food was delicious and my family was wonderful and we all loved it. And when the movie was over we all went into the kitchen to torch the creme brulee, and Capt. Sweetie turned on "Burning Down the House" by the Talking Heads and we all danced around the kitchen and turned on the butane torch and melted the sugar and plopped fresh raspberries and squirted the Reddi-Whip and we all said "Oh man! This is delicious!"
For that kind of response, I would even cook more often, I think. But I will not do so with Julia Child's recipes, because they are still too hard. But I love her anyway.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Hold Your Horses!
This is frickin' brilliant!
I came across this after wondering a bunch of links--isn't the internet amazing? Aren't humans wonderful sometimes?
70 Million by Hold Your Horses ! from L'Ogre on Vimeo.
I came across this after wondering a bunch of links--isn't the internet amazing? Aren't humans wonderful sometimes?
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Oscar Backlash! The Ryan Seacrest Experience
The New York Times has the latest of Oscar backlash. No, not that Kathryn Bigelow isn't "really" a female director since she directed a "boy movie." No, not that "Avatar was robbed." Not even that Giuliana shouldn't have been stuck upstairs in the skybox. (Okay, I made that up. Nobody has said that.)
Ryan didn't ask about the designers. When interviewing A list celebrities, many of whom were actually nominated for their performances, he failed to make "Who are you wearing" his very first question, or even a question at all.
This from New York Times article.
Um. Yes. Given that the man had about 22 seconds per Famous Person, and the event was the Oscars--you know, that thing about MOVIES--and was NOT "Project Runway."
Don't get me wrong--I love the Oscars, and a very big part of what I love about the Oscars is the fashion. Well, obviously. But "who are you wearing" is not really a story. It's advertising. Learning what designer someone is wearing is why Al Gore invented the Internet. LOOK IT UP.
Maybe next year, stylists and publicists will make their clients' information available so E! can post it on the lower screen crawl, so people who care can read it.
Maybe the real "story" here isn't that Seacrest failed to ask about designers, but that the only people the NEW YORK TIMES (you know, the one that used to be called "the paper of record") interviewed about this were themselves fashion designers? It's not that there is a broad based backlash against Ryan Seacrest, as the article promotes--it's that people who care about the clothes than the people inside of them were disappointed. You know what? Mammogram technicians were also disappointed by the lack of X-ray films carried on the red carpet as well.
---The Mistress of All Evil is NOT wearing Marchesa or Armani Prive while producing this post.
Ryan didn't ask about the designers. When interviewing A list celebrities, many of whom were actually nominated for their performances, he failed to make "Who are you wearing" his very first question, or even a question at all.
This from New York Times article.
The fashion designer Nicole Miller said she, too, was disappointed (and not just because Mr. Seacrest didn’t chat up the “True Blood” star Deborah Ann Woll, who was clad in a Miller gown). “It was almost like he wasn’t that interested in the designers,” Ms. Miller said. “He seemed more interested in the celebrities and their careers.”
Um. Yes. Given that the man had about 22 seconds per Famous Person, and the event was the Oscars--you know, that thing about MOVIES--and was NOT "Project Runway."
Don't get me wrong--I love the Oscars, and a very big part of what I love about the Oscars is the fashion. Well, obviously. But "who are you wearing" is not really a story. It's advertising. Learning what designer someone is wearing is why Al Gore invented the Internet. LOOK IT UP.
Maybe next year, stylists and publicists will make their clients' information available so E! can post it on the lower screen crawl, so people who care can read it.
Maybe the real "story" here isn't that Seacrest failed to ask about designers, but that the only people the NEW YORK TIMES (you know, the one that used to be called "the paper of record") interviewed about this were themselves fashion designers? It's not that there is a broad based backlash against Ryan Seacrest, as the article promotes--it's that people who care about the clothes than the people inside of them were disappointed. You know what? Mammogram technicians were also disappointed by the lack of X-ray films carried on the red carpet as well.
---The Mistress of All Evil is NOT wearing Marchesa or Armani Prive while producing this post.
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Tiara Woes
HEY EVERYBODY! GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS TODAY?
IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! AND BECAUSE IT'S MY BIRTHDAY AND I CAN DO ANYTHING I WANT TO DO. . .
I AM WEARING A TIARA.
Because, dammit, I am already married and not planning to ever do it again, I will never open Parliament, and I will never go to a Royal Ball in an outfit created by a fairy godmother where I will accidentally forget to give my prince my cell phone number so I will be forced to leave behind a glass slipper that he can use to trace me via DNA typing with the help of Gil Grissom.
So, for my birthday I am wearing a tiara, and you know what sucks? I keep trying to pull it down onto my face because I think it's my reading glasses.
Guys? I waited too long to start wearing a tiara.
IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! AND BECAUSE IT'S MY BIRTHDAY AND I CAN DO ANYTHING I WANT TO DO. . .
I AM WEARING A TIARA.
Because, dammit, I am already married and not planning to ever do it again, I will never open Parliament, and I will never go to a Royal Ball in an outfit created by a fairy godmother where I will accidentally forget to give my prince my cell phone number so I will be forced to leave behind a glass slipper that he can use to trace me via DNA typing with the help of Gil Grissom.
So, for my birthday I am wearing a tiara, and you know what sucks? I keep trying to pull it down onto my face because I think it's my reading glasses.
Guys? I waited too long to start wearing a tiara.
Oscars 2010 Fashion Mistakes -- Sarah Jessica Parker
SJP here is one unfiltered cigarette and John Hamm away from a cameo on "Mad Men." It's all about the accessories.
Oscars 2010 Fashion Mistakes -- Charlize Theron
You don't even need me to comment on this one.
When you wear John Galliano, you get more than just "body conscious." You get "anatomically exaggerated."
I saw a performance of "How To Succeed In Business Without Even Trying" about 30 years ago. In one song, every woman shows up at the office party in the identical "Irresistible Paris Original" dress, which was a black halter dress with a large white flower at the neck. The only dress any of the men noticed was when the slutty secretary showed up with two large white flowers, pinned over each of her breasts.
Who knew Galliano was there too?
When you wear John Galliano, you get more than just "body conscious." You get "anatomically exaggerated."
I saw a performance of "How To Succeed In Business Without Even Trying" about 30 years ago. In one song, every woman shows up at the office party in the identical "Irresistible Paris Original" dress, which was a black halter dress with a large white flower at the neck. The only dress any of the men noticed was when the slutty secretary showed up with two large white flowers, pinned over each of her breasts.
Who knew Galliano was there too?
Oscars 2010 Fashion Mistakes -- Elisabetta Canalis
This may be mean, since poor Elisabetta is not herself an Oscar invitee--she's a "plus one," and it is hardly fair to assault someone who's only claim to our attention is that she is dating George Clooney.
That's a fair assessment, but this is a fashion mistake. Maybe we can blame somebody else for it, though.
It's her undergarment. You can see it pretty clearly here, just as I saw it on television. It's a corset or something, with a panel that runs in a triangle down her abdomen and points straight at her ladybits.
Now, maybe, she decided she wanted to wear something sexy and glamorous under her red satin gown, something that would make her feel more fabulous than a pair of Spanx, and really, who can blame her? I mean, why pull a Bridget Jones buzzkill on Oscar night with a pair of practical and unattractive underpants.
Fortunately for her, somebody must have spotted it early in the evening and whispered in her ear, because most of the rest of the night she has her clutch or her wrap conveniently posed to hide the lines.
That's a fair assessment, but this is a fashion mistake. Maybe we can blame somebody else for it, though.
It's her undergarment. You can see it pretty clearly here, just as I saw it on television. It's a corset or something, with a panel that runs in a triangle down her abdomen and points straight at her ladybits.
Now, maybe, she decided she wanted to wear something sexy and glamorous under her red satin gown, something that would make her feel more fabulous than a pair of Spanx, and really, who can blame her? I mean, why pull a Bridget Jones buzzkill on Oscar night with a pair of practical and unattractive underpants.
Fortunately for her, somebody must have spotted it early in the evening and whispered in her ear, because most of the rest of the night she has her clutch or her wrap conveniently posed to hide the lines.
Oscars 2010 Fashion Mistakes -- Cameron Diaz
You know I love the Oscars with an unreasoning affection--and I have to say beforehand that the fashions this year were uniformly great. Sure, I have quibbles, or personal preferences, but there was nothing this year that made me slap my forehead and scream "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING" at the screen.
And that does happen sometimes.
So even the "worst dressed" are only so in comparison--and are still better than just about anything anybody wore from about 1972 to 1990--just to pick some dates at random. So realize that most of these "mistakes" aren't really Big Mistakes. On the other hand--there is still Room For Improvement.
Let's start with Cameron Diaz.
Give the girl her due--in the past, she has looked like she just rolled out of bed and grabbed whatever was closest.
This was 2002, and whatever she meant to accomplish with the kimono inspired dress and International Festival accessories, it was the messy hair and lack of make-up that guaranteed this was going to be considered a very expensive bathrobe.
She has atoned for that look in the past, which is weird. I mean--why is Cameron Diaz at the Oscars so often? It can't be for her body of work, can it? Does the Academy value "Shrek" and "Charlie's Angels" so highly? Sure, fine, there was "Gangs of New York," but even Leo DiCaprio hasn't been to as many Oscars as our girl Cam here.
Cameron at 2007 Oscars
Cameron at 2008 Oscars
Which brings us back to the 2010 look.
It's fine. It's just fine. It's golden, it's formal, her hair and make-up are lovely.
It's just--meh. Frankly, the look is both generic and matronly. It makes her look "middle aged," which is a phrase I hate, but it's accurate. She looks like she's over 40 (she isn't) and she's got a bunch of kids in a minivan parked somewhere. She sent them off to hockey practice and came on over to the school fundraising formal.
I mean, whether you liked that 2002 bathrobe or not, it was unique. You couldn't imagine it on, say Drew Barrymore, like you can this one. Or just about anybody, really. Susan Sarandon could wear this, or Demi Moore, or Carey Mulligan. It just is a lovely shiny dress, but it fails to give us a quintessential Cameron Diaz look, and that's what I'm looking for at the Oscars.
And that does happen sometimes.
So even the "worst dressed" are only so in comparison--and are still better than just about anything anybody wore from about 1972 to 1990--just to pick some dates at random. So realize that most of these "mistakes" aren't really Big Mistakes. On the other hand--there is still Room For Improvement.
Let's start with Cameron Diaz.
Give the girl her due--in the past, she has looked like she just rolled out of bed and grabbed whatever was closest.
This was 2002, and whatever she meant to accomplish with the kimono inspired dress and International Festival accessories, it was the messy hair and lack of make-up that guaranteed this was going to be considered a very expensive bathrobe.
She has atoned for that look in the past, which is weird. I mean--why is Cameron Diaz at the Oscars so often? It can't be for her body of work, can it? Does the Academy value "Shrek" and "Charlie's Angels" so highly? Sure, fine, there was "Gangs of New York," but even Leo DiCaprio hasn't been to as many Oscars as our girl Cam here.
Cameron at 2007 Oscars
Cameron at 2008 Oscars
Which brings us back to the 2010 look.
It's fine. It's just fine. It's golden, it's formal, her hair and make-up are lovely.
It's just--meh. Frankly, the look is both generic and matronly. It makes her look "middle aged," which is a phrase I hate, but it's accurate. She looks like she's over 40 (she isn't) and she's got a bunch of kids in a minivan parked somewhere. She sent them off to hockey practice and came on over to the school fundraising formal.
I mean, whether you liked that 2002 bathrobe or not, it was unique. You couldn't imagine it on, say Drew Barrymore, like you can this one. Or just about anybody, really. Susan Sarandon could wear this, or Demi Moore, or Carey Mulligan. It just is a lovely shiny dress, but it fails to give us a quintessential Cameron Diaz look, and that's what I'm looking for at the Oscars.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Oscars 2010--The Red Carpet Pre Show
It's 5:00 p.m. The Dog is fed.I have a large glass of white wine. Ryan Seacrest's mug is on my TV screen. It's time for the Oscars! This year's post is going to be an experiment--live blogging combined with editing the following day. And pictures! (From JustJared.com) So let's get started!
The telecast has already started out better than the Golden Globes, because Seacrest is alone on the carpet, and Giuliana has been sent to detention in the skybox with Jay Manuel. So no more awkward "how do you get that rockin' body" "interview" questions by the tone deaf Rancic. The show is also denied the "360 Glam Cam" that was almost as awkward as Giuliana's "interviews."
Is anybody who is anybody going to be here this early? Why, yes! The leading man in the Avatar juggernaut Sam Worthington and his anonymous girlfriend. (If Seacrest doesn't already know who she is, she must not be worth talking to, right?)
It used to be fashionable to complain about a "Best Picture" nomination if it wasn't accompanied by a "Best Director" nomination as well. What do we say about a "Best Picture" nomination with NO acting nominations? Answer: ANIMATION! Of course, there is some live acting in
Avatar: the lack of acting nominations just sums up the problems with that movie--technological break-throughs are all very fine, but you need a story and some emotional investment to make a movie.
Sam Worthington is sure working his Aussie accent--it's much more broad than it was in the movie. Is this on purpose? It's been said that anybody can sell anything to Americans if they do it with an accent: maybe this is Worthington's broadcast audition tape for any job in Hollywood. In fact, he's being quite open about being "at liberty" at the moment.
And now he and his girlfriend are being pushed off the dais in favor of Zac Efron: which, wait. Why is he here? He's not nominated, he's not got a movie out right now, he's not a past winner--is this the attempt to reach out to a Younger Audience? But how late can we expect 8-year olds to stay up?
Zac Efron is this generation's Rob Lowe--and we begin to see a theme, in which Hollywood is already developing replacements for currently established actors. Maybe they are clones!
Giuliana has changed outfits from the earlier "Countdown to the Oscars" time filler show she was hosting, while Jay Manuel is griping that he didn't have time to change, although he quickly realizes that this sounds dismissive of the designer outfit he is wearing, so he changes his tune. And--we are treated to a montage of what some people wore to other awards show as a time filler in case Seacrest can't find anybody worth televising.
But the Giuls 'n' Jay show gets shut off because Anna Kendrick is here! She's apparently decided to get the gauntlet out of the way by arriving early.There has been a lot of speculation about what she's going to wear and it's--blush and lots of pleating and structure, shoulder bearing, but not something that will photograph well—kind of washing her out.
It's a beautiful dress, it fits her beautifully, and she looks comfortable. It's just, well, kind of meh. You would think that a pastel dress would make her strong coloring stand out and emphasize her gorgeous face, but something is missing. She looks lovely, she looks fine--she doesn't pop or sizzle the way I want someone so young to be at her first Oscars.
The interview set up appears to be terribly squashed both physically and in terms of the amount of time Seacrest will spare any given celebrity. And here comes Mo’Nique, in royal blue and makes poor Anna look like Pasty White Chick, which she is so much not.
Mo’Nique doesn’t actually look good—the color is great, but the cut doesn’t do much for her, and she’s got a frickin’ bouquet on her head. She’s a big woman but she’s looking stuffed into her gown. Not good, honey. If course, later we find out that it's a tribute to Hattie MacDaniel, who wore a flower in her hair when she won for "Gone With the Wind" so Mo'Nique gets a pass on a questionable fashion choice because it is Historically Significant. And we can all breathe a sigh of relief that this doesn't mean Big Hair Flowers are the next Big Flower Pins.
Somehow, it's raining again in LA—just like at the Golden Globes. Seacrest expresses worry that actresses' heels will start sinking into the ground—but it’s all paved, so I don’t know what he’s been drinking. Coming up: Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon. Mariah has apparently covered up those Golden Globes of hers.Buh dum BUM!
Great ad for cervical cancer—it’s totally a perfume ad, with magic sparkles and everything. Followed by an ad for Dentyne Ice, with the slogan “practice safe breath”—gum as condom. Ads have rediscovered the old bait and switch. These are clever, but the cervical cancer ad gets run too frequently and loses its power.
The question for every awards show is: Is Mariah drunk? Has she already started her celebrations?
She might have—she’s looking off into the distance as if she's not able to focus her eyes. Maybe she's just tired of looking at Seacrest? She's wearing something that threatens to float in the breezes and show us more of Mariah than even Mariah wants to show us. Seacrest sounds genuinely panicked at the possibility, but Mariah reassures us that she has a "built in body suit." This solves one problem, but makes the status of her inebriation even more important--how will she pee?
At this point, it's only 5:24, and they seem to be cramming in all the ads they can. Ads are getting weirdly pre-empted before they finish by yet more ads.
Zoe Saldana and the mayor of L.A. have run into one another and Seacrest has failed his traffic cop training, so there seems to be a four or five way interview in progress. I love Zoe, and she’s in lavender and sparkles, which are two of my very favorite things, so I fail to remember what it is the mayor manages to say. But then we see the skirt.
This skirt has apparently sprouted lavender fungus from the LA rain. Some other commenters have likened the dress to plastic leis, or bathroom loofah poufs. Whatever it's actually supposed to be, it's random ruffles and an origami waistline, with ombre coloring to boot. It's all just too much on a small frame. If I could enforce fashion swaps, I'd throw away the entire skirt, and substitute Kate Winslet's skirt--dyed the appropriate lavender, of course. Then Zoe could keep the purple shoes and we'd all be a lot happier. (Except perhaps for Kate Winslet, at least until we got her another skirt.)
Joel Madden and Nicole Ritchie.He’s dj-ing. Nicole isn’t saying much, but she looks like she eats now, and it's a good look for her.
Vera Farmiga in crimson pleats and ruffles and matching lipstick.She’s lovely, and the dress is a statement, and she’s trying to convince us that nobody ever recognizes her in real life.She’s picking Hurt Locker and forgetting to pick Jason Reitman for Best Director.She’s fabulous and human and is even slouching a bit, which can’t be easy in that dress.
Ryan Reynolds is here without his wife, Scarlett Johansson, who is back in New York appearing on Broadway. That's fine with me, as he looks good enough all by himself.
Reynolds is presenting Best Picture nominee “The Blind Side” and Seacrest is asking how likely Sandra Bullock is going to actually win.Because presenters of a single nominee have all the inside information, don't they. We are treated to the less than absorbing factoid that Ryan and Ryan train at the same gym. This is the definition of “Too Much Information.” Reynolds reports he has taken his trainer with him to “The Green Lantern” shoots. The additional training is necessary, apparently, and he promises us a “snug costume.”
Sigourney Weaver coming down the carpet in vivid red, which is such a great color on her, plus is such a fearless choice. Back in the day, no one would have suggested that anyone over 30 wear such a vivid color, much less someone 60 years old an nearly six feet tall. Life is better these days.
So what is her secret? Whatever it is, this is what a movie star looks like, Anna Kendrick, I'm talking to you!
James Cameron is in line behind Jason Reitman, which is awkward, and it’s totally like Ryan Seacrest point it and thus increase the awkwardness.OMG—Suzy Amis looks like a skeleton wearing a dress.I hope she’s well, because she looks like a cancer patient.You CAN be too thin.
[I can't find a photo that fully shows the Crypt Keeper look Amis is working, but trust me, it's as scary as Cameron's bad haircut was at the Golden Globes. She's got a great blue dress on, though, I'll give her that.]
The telecast has already started out better than the Golden Globes, because Seacrest is alone on the carpet, and Giuliana has been sent to detention in the skybox with Jay Manuel. So no more awkward "how do you get that rockin' body" "interview" questions by the tone deaf Rancic. The show is also denied the "360 Glam Cam" that was almost as awkward as Giuliana's "interviews."
Is anybody who is anybody going to be here this early? Why, yes! The leading man in the Avatar juggernaut Sam Worthington and his anonymous girlfriend. (If Seacrest doesn't already know who she is, she must not be worth talking to, right?)
It used to be fashionable to complain about a "Best Picture" nomination if it wasn't accompanied by a "Best Director" nomination as well. What do we say about a "Best Picture" nomination with NO acting nominations? Answer: ANIMATION! Of course, there is some live acting in
Avatar: the lack of acting nominations just sums up the problems with that movie--technological break-throughs are all very fine, but you need a story and some emotional investment to make a movie.
Sam Worthington is sure working his Aussie accent--it's much more broad than it was in the movie. Is this on purpose? It's been said that anybody can sell anything to Americans if they do it with an accent: maybe this is Worthington's broadcast audition tape for any job in Hollywood. In fact, he's being quite open about being "at liberty" at the moment.
And now he and his girlfriend are being pushed off the dais in favor of Zac Efron: which, wait. Why is he here? He's not nominated, he's not got a movie out right now, he's not a past winner--is this the attempt to reach out to a Younger Audience? But how late can we expect 8-year olds to stay up?
Zac Efron is this generation's Rob Lowe--and we begin to see a theme, in which Hollywood is already developing replacements for currently established actors. Maybe they are clones!
Giuliana has changed outfits from the earlier "Countdown to the Oscars" time filler show she was hosting, while Jay Manuel is griping that he didn't have time to change, although he quickly realizes that this sounds dismissive of the designer outfit he is wearing, so he changes his tune. And--we are treated to a montage of what some people wore to other awards show as a time filler in case Seacrest can't find anybody worth televising.
But the Giuls 'n' Jay show gets shut off because Anna Kendrick is here! She's apparently decided to get the gauntlet out of the way by arriving early.There has been a lot of speculation about what she's going to wear and it's--blush and lots of pleating and structure, shoulder bearing, but not something that will photograph well—kind of washing her out.
It's a beautiful dress, it fits her beautifully, and she looks comfortable. It's just, well, kind of meh. You would think that a pastel dress would make her strong coloring stand out and emphasize her gorgeous face, but something is missing. She looks lovely, she looks fine--she doesn't pop or sizzle the way I want someone so young to be at her first Oscars.
The interview set up appears to be terribly squashed both physically and in terms of the amount of time Seacrest will spare any given celebrity. And here comes Mo’Nique, in royal blue and makes poor Anna look like Pasty White Chick, which she is so much not.
Mo’Nique doesn’t actually look good—the color is great, but the cut doesn’t do much for her, and she’s got a frickin’ bouquet on her head. She’s a big woman but she’s looking stuffed into her gown. Not good, honey. If course, later we find out that it's a tribute to Hattie MacDaniel, who wore a flower in her hair when she won for "Gone With the Wind" so Mo'Nique gets a pass on a questionable fashion choice because it is Historically Significant. And we can all breathe a sigh of relief that this doesn't mean Big Hair Flowers are the next Big Flower Pins.
Somehow, it's raining again in LA—just like at the Golden Globes. Seacrest expresses worry that actresses' heels will start sinking into the ground—but it’s all paved, so I don’t know what he’s been drinking. Coming up: Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon. Mariah has apparently covered up those Golden Globes of hers.Buh dum BUM!
Great ad for cervical cancer—it’s totally a perfume ad, with magic sparkles and everything. Followed by an ad for Dentyne Ice, with the slogan “practice safe breath”—gum as condom. Ads have rediscovered the old bait and switch. These are clever, but the cervical cancer ad gets run too frequently and loses its power.
The question for every awards show is: Is Mariah drunk? Has she already started her celebrations?
She might have—she’s looking off into the distance as if she's not able to focus her eyes. Maybe she's just tired of looking at Seacrest? She's wearing something that threatens to float in the breezes and show us more of Mariah than even Mariah wants to show us. Seacrest sounds genuinely panicked at the possibility, but Mariah reassures us that she has a "built in body suit." This solves one problem, but makes the status of her inebriation even more important--how will she pee?At this point, it's only 5:24, and they seem to be cramming in all the ads they can. Ads are getting weirdly pre-empted before they finish by yet more ads.
Zoe Saldana and the mayor of L.A. have run into one another and Seacrest has failed his traffic cop training, so there seems to be a four or five way interview in progress. I love Zoe, and she’s in lavender and sparkles, which are two of my very favorite things, so I fail to remember what it is the mayor manages to say. But then we see the skirt.
This skirt has apparently sprouted lavender fungus from the LA rain. Some other commenters have likened the dress to plastic leis, or bathroom loofah poufs. Whatever it's actually supposed to be, it's random ruffles and an origami waistline, with ombre coloring to boot. It's all just too much on a small frame. If I could enforce fashion swaps, I'd throw away the entire skirt, and substitute Kate Winslet's skirt--dyed the appropriate lavender, of course. Then Zoe could keep the purple shoes and we'd all be a lot happier. (Except perhaps for Kate Winslet, at least until we got her another skirt.)
Joel Madden and Nicole Ritchie.He’s dj-ing. Nicole isn’t saying much, but she looks like she eats now, and it's a good look for her.
Vera Farmiga in crimson pleats and ruffles and matching lipstick.She’s lovely, and the dress is a statement, and she’s trying to convince us that nobody ever recognizes her in real life.She’s picking Hurt Locker and forgetting to pick Jason Reitman for Best Director.She’s fabulous and human and is even slouching a bit, which can’t be easy in that dress.Ryan Reynolds is here without his wife, Scarlett Johansson, who is back in New York appearing on Broadway. That's fine with me, as he looks good enough all by himself.
Reynolds is presenting Best Picture nominee “The Blind Side” and Seacrest is asking how likely Sandra Bullock is going to actually win.Because presenters of a single nominee have all the inside information, don't they. We are treated to the less than absorbing factoid that Ryan and Ryan train at the same gym. This is the definition of “Too Much Information.” Reynolds reports he has taken his trainer with him to “The Green Lantern” shoots. The additional training is necessary, apparently, and he promises us a “snug costume.”Sigourney Weaver coming down the carpet in vivid red, which is such a great color on her, plus is such a fearless choice. Back in the day, no one would have suggested that anyone over 30 wear such a vivid color, much less someone 60 years old an nearly six feet tall. Life is better these days.
So what is her secret? Whatever it is, this is what a movie star looks like, Anna Kendrick, I'm talking to you!James Cameron is in line behind Jason Reitman, which is awkward, and it’s totally like Ryan Seacrest point it and thus increase the awkwardness.OMG—Suzy Amis looks like a skeleton wearing a dress.I hope she’s well, because she looks like a cancer patient.You CAN be too thin.
[I can't find a photo that fully shows the Crypt Keeper look Amis is working, but trust me, it's as scary as Cameron's bad haircut was at the Golden Globes. She's got a great blue dress on, though, I'll give her that.]
Photo from here.
However, I am gratefully distracted by the "coming up" camera shots down the red carpet: Elizabeth Banks in inset is more fun to look at than JC and his death maiden.
Photo from here.
Maggie Gyllenhall in blue and black strapless nothing. It's Peter Skarsgaard’s birthday, but Seacrest says he won’t sing, because “Happy Birthday” costs too much.
I like this dress--it's simple lines are flattering, the print fabric is interesting--you don't see many patterns or prints at the Oscars. Maggie looks lovely and confident. Is this the Biggest Dress Of The Year? Of course not. But it's perfectly appropriate while being a bit out of the mainstream and expressing a bit of Maggie's own personality.
Elizabeth Banks makes it to the interview platform in a gray highly structured gown, with her hair tied back severely, and OMG flamenco ruffles. It's like the mullet of Oscar gowns: business up top, party from the knees down. I can't tell if E! actually believes we want to hear from Ryan Seacrest rather than looking at the dresses, or if they are so crammed for space there is no way to show the entire outfit. Or both, maybe.
Tom Ford drops in to make some compliments, and to mention his movie as well. Did you know he directed "A Single Man"? Which is a different movie than the Coen brothers' "A Serious Man," FYI. Ford has a fabulous accent, which he is working as hard as Sam Worthington did, and is –surprise, surprise—wearing Tom Ford! And so is Jay! Up in the skybox! Now text your prediction about who will win Lead Actress. Why?
Sigourney Weaver in red, talking about reading the Avatar script. Have you seen it yet? Not in Imax yet, but 3D—which she’s selling. Signorney has a Disney Movie coming out with pole dancing. . .is Miley Cyrus involved—and then she gets pushed off for Lenny Kravitz, who is irritated he has to speak. Or maybe it’s just talking to Ryan Secrest. But he’s going to be touring with U2?!?!
Tina Fey in black? What a surprise. Michael Kors. She's texted with Alec Baldwin earlier today, and he is calm and ready, and it’s probably easier than SNL, because it’s only 20 minutes of material. Insert your own joke here about SNL also only having 20 minutes of material spread out over an unconscionably long time period. At least at the Oscars there are awards to give out to fill the time. That must be why SNL has musical guests.
So, is Amanda Seyfried is wearing Kate Hudson’s dress from the Golden Globes?
There is definitely a theme of highly structured torso armor going on this year--Kate Hudson's looks like it was immaculately constructed out of fondant icing--she looks less like a bride and more like the wedding cake, actually. Seyfried's looks like it's made out of bubble wrap, but it's definitely got the same sort of structural architecture to it. Hudson's was Marchesa, Seyfreid's was Armani Prive, I think, which make it perhaps the same as Lady Gaga's dress from the Grammys, but without the representational orbital paths around it.
Seyfried apparently opted to do without the bejeweled body-head stocking as well, but the bodice seems similar. Nothing wrong with that--I loved it on Gaga, and I like the version that is wearable by people from this planet as well. In her interview with Seacrest, we learn
Seyfried will be leaving Big Love, because she’s not working enough.
Seacrest hints that she'll be doing something called “Red Riding Hood,” which the two of them discuss in some sort of secret code that they understand, but that gives the average viewer (me) no clue about whether it's a movie, tv show, nightclub act or even a life-style change. Spell it out for us next time, if you actually mean to promote it guys.
Cary Mulligan went with black sequins, and a weird tea length plus train hemline. She just about pulls it off, but the heavy straps on her shoes end up making her legs look stumpy, and at a distance the look is all about her shins. Not really what a devastatingly lovely young woman with killer dimples should be reduced to, actually.
Apparently the beading on this gown is eccentric, containing tiny knives, forks, crowns, and other irregular items--which is exactly the sort of detail that takes this gown out of the basic, boring, black, and into something that suits Mulligan's youth.You can see those tiny items in the zoomed photo here.
I'm still not a fan of the hemline, which might actually be what I hate more than the shoes. If the entire dress were tea length, for example, we'd get less of the "proscenium arch curtain call for the shins" effect that spoils this look.
Sandra Bullock, heavily favored to win Best Actress tonight, wearing a sequins and kind of golden paillettes look.J&G think it would best be accessorized with an Oscar. I like her super shiny hair, and the bottom of the dress is apparently panne velvet, although it looks like liquid metal.
I think it's risky to wear beads over illusion netting this close to the Olympics, myself, but the asymmetic bodice is done so artfully that I like it the more I look at it. I'm not happy with the make-up in close-up, but I think its a matter of lighting. In some lights, it's absolutely fabulous, but in other lights it comes off as heavy and aging. In the picture above, it's just fine.
The interview with Seacrest is marred by the odd camera angle: the dress is interesting, but hard to evaluate this close. I’m seeing too much of her arm wrinkles at the top of her armpit—the cap cleaves don’t particularly do any favors in silhouette.
Diane Kruger is such a conundrum--such a lovely woman, who clearly revels in fashion, and yet so often looks terrible. Tonight is not a look I'd ever like to see again: severe hair, and a busy busy dress in black and cream.
She’s such a beautiful woman and is all but unrecognizable in an ugly dress. It's like a black, feathered anaconda is slithering down her torso, and as though she's got different micro-climates going on all up and down her body. Not sure why anyone thought it was a good idea to carve her up visually into thirds like that.
Tyler Perry, who is very very tall, promoting Precious—how he and Oprah kept it from going straight to DVD, so good for him.
The crawl tells us that Apolo Ohno thinks Pam Anderson is “a little too top heavy” to win DWTS.This is what we watch the Oscars for? Answer: NO.
Tim McGraw and Faith Hill promoting “The Blind Side.”Also the guy who played the football player--Quinton Aaron. Oh yes, Tim McGraw was in that one. Faith's dress is a small fail--weird deployment of lace that makes the whole thing look like it was repurposed from somebody's grandmother's attic.
Photo from here.
And due to some issues at home, I have to take a break from recapping. More to come in separate entries.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The Guthrie Theater's Macbeth, A Review.
I saw the Guthrie Theater's production of Macbeth this weekend. It's a great play, and the production played it straight--no attempt to particularly modernize the play, although the costumes were strongly flavored from WWII. The play started fast, and kept going without an intermission for about two hours.
HOWEVER. (There is always a "however," isn't there?) I found myself thinking critically about the production itself, ejected from the story and into some choices about the play.
It starts with a bang. Literally. Warfare rolls across the stage as characters in battle fatigues rappel down from the ceiling and storm across the stage. There is handgun fire and hand to hand knife fights. Bodies fall and roll, lie for a time, then inobtrusively remove themselves from the stage. It could be distracting, but it's effective overall, as if the battle has moved to new ground, and the bodies were left behind. Macbeth is identifiable--even before he's been introduced by name--standing tall in the center of the fighting, his red beard marking him as Scots. Okay, technically, the witches came out first, but the sudden fury of the battle blots out their previous scene.
The problem is that the production never slows down again. Everything happens at breakneck speed, and at top volume. The wounded soldier stumbles on to tell King Duncan that Macbeth and Banquo have defeated both the Irish AND the Norwegians, but his speech about their bravery goes by in a blur, making them seem not like victorious generals, but like manic berserkers who have prevailed out of sheer love of bloody fighting. Which is precisely the image of Macbeth which is most undercutting to his role as a tragic hero. If he's a wildman who happens to be a useful weapon on the battlefield, then he's not a tragic hero--there is no arc to his story. If he likes to kill men on the battlefield, and then he starts killing men from his own side, then he a psychopath who goes mad, not a good man who struggles with bad choices and actions.
The witches are back, wearing grey raincoats and dreadlocks. Weird, sure, but not overtly supernatural. They predict Macbeth's future--thane of Cawdor and king hereafter, and the scene plays with so much skepticism from Macbeth and Banquo that they might as well have broken open some fortune cookies. "Ha ha," they poke each other, "what a bunch of crazy bitches these are. You're going to be king, what can they possibly say to me that would top that?" They don't seem to entertain even the flimsiest of notions that these witches might be telling the truth--because that would take time, soemthing this production doesn't have. A few seconds of doubt, or puzzlement would have made their belief in these predictions believable. But who takes fortune cookies seriously, or alters their behavior because of what they say.
So when messengers arrive seconds later to report that Macbeth is now thane of Cawdor, the audience is prepared for Macbeth to say something like "Wow. What a coincidence. I wonder if those witches had heard this messenger talking before he got here?" We are not prepared for him to gobble up Cawdor without chewing it and immediately look for the kingship. One of the enduring puzzles of the play is the question of the inevitability of the future. Would Macbeth be king even if he had never heard the witches' prediction? Or does the fact that they tell him he will be king change the way Macbeth acts? Is he a good man brought down by his susceptibility to ambition, or was he doomed by fate?
Hard to tell it's even a question in this production: Macbeth seems to take the witches' pronouncements as a To Do list and he has to check off all the items efficiently. Cawdor? Check. What's next on the list? King? Better write to my wife and get her on board.
Let's talk about Lady Macbeth, shall we? Mad shrew, frustarated SAHM, or violent sociopath? Rarely is she portrayed as a complicated human being, and why break that precedent here, right? Dressed in a white shirt and trousers, she's writhing on the couch with excitement at the idea of being queen, already her volume is turned up to 9. Where can she go from here?
I've seen the actress who plays Lady Macbeth in at least two other productions, and I've never warmed to her. She's incredibly good at sweeping onto and off of the stage, but doesn't really do much once she is there. She has a habit of emphasizing her words with a hand gesture: an upside down claw, as if she is gripping an orange underhanded. With her fingers splayed, she makes short, quick motions at waist height again and again. Her voice drips with contempt for Macbeth and even when he agrees to kill Duncan, her attitude doesn't change. At this point, Macbeth doesn't seem to feel he has any choice either: Killing Duncan is on his To Do list.
I could go on in tedious detail, but this is the problem that pervades the play. Macbeth never really acts as though he had any choice in the matter, so he just plans to go through the motions. Lady Macbeth starts out bloodthirsty, and even when she goes mad, there's no sense that she was ever anything but a monster, so why should be pity her?
The best example of what I am talking about is in Mulholland Drive, David Lynch's freaky detective movie. In a pair of scenes, Naomi Watts plays a character who is auditioning for a role in a movie. At home, she runs over her lines with her roommate, shrieking in cliched high-school-drama fashion "I hate you! I hate you!" A few scenes later, she's in the audition, and suddenly she is acting. The actor she is reading with is an old lech, using the scene to grab her ass. She grabs his arm, moves closer to him, and whispers in his face "I hate you." And man is it effective! Instead of a soap opera of shallow and inflated emotions, we see a woman poisoned by hate and self-loathing. It is a Master Class on how underplaying a role makes it incredibly powerful.
Macbeth could have used some of this underplaying. The most effective scene in the whole play was at the banquet, when Banquo's ghost appears. The actor playing Banquo appeared, his head and neck covered with stage blood, and he just looked at Macbeth. There was never a threatening gesture, never a moment of posturing. Instead, Banquo looked saddened that Macbeth should have killed him. And Macbeth loses it in a major way. In fact, the physical interaction between the two actors was so good, that Shakespeare's dialogue was unnecessary and unduly comic. Macbeth comes to himself and tries to apologize, claiming " I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing / To those that know me." One can only laugh, as this is soooo far from explaining Macbeth's weird behavior. . .and here it is that the scope of his madness is apparent, because he can't even behave normally or give anything like a credible explanation for his behavior. So he doesn't even try. And THAT is madness--when you give up attempting to explain yourself.
There were a few things that intruded on my enjoyment of the play, things that popped up into my mind like those goofy VH1 videos. Two of the characters, Ross and Lennox, were advisors to the king, and were the only two men who were never in military garb. They wore suits, and fedoras, and topcoats, and leather shoes, and one carried an attache case--because he was an attache, duh. But all I could see, as he hauled that briefcase around, was "the results of Oscar voting were tabulated by the accountants of Price Waterhouse."
Similarly, the actor who played Malcolm, King Duncan's son and the leader of the troops who finally defeat Macbeth, was played by an actor I had last seen in "The Importance of Being Earnest," which totally undercut the force of his lines. Duncan dead, Malcolm and his brother Donalbain realize that they are not safe either, so they plan to flee to England and Ireland respectively. However, I can't help but see this as an instance of "Bunburying"--Oscar Wilde's plot device where the character gets out of town by claiming he has a ailing friend in the country who wants to see him.
Similarly, when Macduff and Malcolm meet in England--the play signals their location by having them in leisure wear, drinking tea(!)--the scene just smacks of a set-up to a Wildean pun-off, and I had to keep reminding myself to "listen to the words, don't watch the body language!"
Oddly, this is the first time I have ever actually seen Macbeth performed, and I can't even claim I have read the entire play either. However, I'm not going to let a lack of academic grounding get in the way of my having very definite opinions about how this play SHOULD be staged. I'm glad I saw it, but I can't really recommend it.
HOWEVER. (There is always a "however," isn't there?) I found myself thinking critically about the production itself, ejected from the story and into some choices about the play.
It starts with a bang. Literally. Warfare rolls across the stage as characters in battle fatigues rappel down from the ceiling and storm across the stage. There is handgun fire and hand to hand knife fights. Bodies fall and roll, lie for a time, then inobtrusively remove themselves from the stage. It could be distracting, but it's effective overall, as if the battle has moved to new ground, and the bodies were left behind. Macbeth is identifiable--even before he's been introduced by name--standing tall in the center of the fighting, his red beard marking him as Scots. Okay, technically, the witches came out first, but the sudden fury of the battle blots out their previous scene.
The problem is that the production never slows down again. Everything happens at breakneck speed, and at top volume. The wounded soldier stumbles on to tell King Duncan that Macbeth and Banquo have defeated both the Irish AND the Norwegians, but his speech about their bravery goes by in a blur, making them seem not like victorious generals, but like manic berserkers who have prevailed out of sheer love of bloody fighting. Which is precisely the image of Macbeth which is most undercutting to his role as a tragic hero. If he's a wildman who happens to be a useful weapon on the battlefield, then he's not a tragic hero--there is no arc to his story. If he likes to kill men on the battlefield, and then he starts killing men from his own side, then he a psychopath who goes mad, not a good man who struggles with bad choices and actions.
The witches are back, wearing grey raincoats and dreadlocks. Weird, sure, but not overtly supernatural. They predict Macbeth's future--thane of Cawdor and king hereafter, and the scene plays with so much skepticism from Macbeth and Banquo that they might as well have broken open some fortune cookies. "Ha ha," they poke each other, "what a bunch of crazy bitches these are. You're going to be king, what can they possibly say to me that would top that?" They don't seem to entertain even the flimsiest of notions that these witches might be telling the truth--because that would take time, soemthing this production doesn't have. A few seconds of doubt, or puzzlement would have made their belief in these predictions believable. But who takes fortune cookies seriously, or alters their behavior because of what they say.
So when messengers arrive seconds later to report that Macbeth is now thane of Cawdor, the audience is prepared for Macbeth to say something like "Wow. What a coincidence. I wonder if those witches had heard this messenger talking before he got here?" We are not prepared for him to gobble up Cawdor without chewing it and immediately look for the kingship. One of the enduring puzzles of the play is the question of the inevitability of the future. Would Macbeth be king even if he had never heard the witches' prediction? Or does the fact that they tell him he will be king change the way Macbeth acts? Is he a good man brought down by his susceptibility to ambition, or was he doomed by fate?
Hard to tell it's even a question in this production: Macbeth seems to take the witches' pronouncements as a To Do list and he has to check off all the items efficiently. Cawdor? Check. What's next on the list? King? Better write to my wife and get her on board.
Let's talk about Lady Macbeth, shall we? Mad shrew, frustarated SAHM, or violent sociopath? Rarely is she portrayed as a complicated human being, and why break that precedent here, right? Dressed in a white shirt and trousers, she's writhing on the couch with excitement at the idea of being queen, already her volume is turned up to 9. Where can she go from here?
I've seen the actress who plays Lady Macbeth in at least two other productions, and I've never warmed to her. She's incredibly good at sweeping onto and off of the stage, but doesn't really do much once she is there. She has a habit of emphasizing her words with a hand gesture: an upside down claw, as if she is gripping an orange underhanded. With her fingers splayed, she makes short, quick motions at waist height again and again. Her voice drips with contempt for Macbeth and even when he agrees to kill Duncan, her attitude doesn't change. At this point, Macbeth doesn't seem to feel he has any choice either: Killing Duncan is on his To Do list.
I could go on in tedious detail, but this is the problem that pervades the play. Macbeth never really acts as though he had any choice in the matter, so he just plans to go through the motions. Lady Macbeth starts out bloodthirsty, and even when she goes mad, there's no sense that she was ever anything but a monster, so why should be pity her?
The best example of what I am talking about is in Mulholland Drive, David Lynch's freaky detective movie. In a pair of scenes, Naomi Watts plays a character who is auditioning for a role in a movie. At home, she runs over her lines with her roommate, shrieking in cliched high-school-drama fashion "I hate you! I hate you!" A few scenes later, she's in the audition, and suddenly she is acting. The actor she is reading with is an old lech, using the scene to grab her ass. She grabs his arm, moves closer to him, and whispers in his face "I hate you." And man is it effective! Instead of a soap opera of shallow and inflated emotions, we see a woman poisoned by hate and self-loathing. It is a Master Class on how underplaying a role makes it incredibly powerful.
Macbeth could have used some of this underplaying. The most effective scene in the whole play was at the banquet, when Banquo's ghost appears. The actor playing Banquo appeared, his head and neck covered with stage blood, and he just looked at Macbeth. There was never a threatening gesture, never a moment of posturing. Instead, Banquo looked saddened that Macbeth should have killed him. And Macbeth loses it in a major way. In fact, the physical interaction between the two actors was so good, that Shakespeare's dialogue was unnecessary and unduly comic. Macbeth comes to himself and tries to apologize, claiming " I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing / To those that know me." One can only laugh, as this is soooo far from explaining Macbeth's weird behavior. . .and here it is that the scope of his madness is apparent, because he can't even behave normally or give anything like a credible explanation for his behavior. So he doesn't even try. And THAT is madness--when you give up attempting to explain yourself.
There were a few things that intruded on my enjoyment of the play, things that popped up into my mind like those goofy VH1 videos. Two of the characters, Ross and Lennox, were advisors to the king, and were the only two men who were never in military garb. They wore suits, and fedoras, and topcoats, and leather shoes, and one carried an attache case--because he was an attache, duh. But all I could see, as he hauled that briefcase around, was "the results of Oscar voting were tabulated by the accountants of Price Waterhouse."
Similarly, the actor who played Malcolm, King Duncan's son and the leader of the troops who finally defeat Macbeth, was played by an actor I had last seen in "The Importance of Being Earnest," which totally undercut the force of his lines. Duncan dead, Malcolm and his brother Donalbain realize that they are not safe either, so they plan to flee to England and Ireland respectively. However, I can't help but see this as an instance of "Bunburying"--Oscar Wilde's plot device where the character gets out of town by claiming he has a ailing friend in the country who wants to see him.
Similarly, when Macduff and Malcolm meet in England--the play signals their location by having them in leisure wear, drinking tea(!)--the scene just smacks of a set-up to a Wildean pun-off, and I had to keep reminding myself to "listen to the words, don't watch the body language!"
Oddly, this is the first time I have ever actually seen Macbeth performed, and I can't even claim I have read the entire play either. However, I'm not going to let a lack of academic grounding get in the way of my having very definite opinions about how this play SHOULD be staged. I'm glad I saw it, but I can't really recommend it.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
What a Lovely Start to the Weekend
Captain Sweetie has been travelling quite a bit lately, and flew home today from a quick trip to Boston. When he arrived home this evening, he brought a dozen red roses.
"Do you know why I brought home a dozen red roses?" he asked.
"Noooo. Why did you bring home a dozen red roses?" I had some guesses, but I can't say I really knew.
"Because today is the 29th anniversary of our first date."
Which is why Capt. Sweetie is a keeper.
"Do you know why I brought home a dozen red roses?" he asked.
"Noooo. Why did you bring home a dozen red roses?" I had some guesses, but I can't say I really knew.
"Because today is the 29th anniversary of our first date."
Which is why Capt. Sweetie is a keeper.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Bright Star, A Review
Or, as I think about it, "Bright Star: It's not you, it's me."
I wanted to love this. Everybody else seems to--just check out its 83% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes, or Dana Stevens' video review over on Slate. Or the disappointment that it didn't get more attention from the Oscars, only a "kiss your sister" nomination for costume design.
But, I just didn't love it.
I will take full responsibility for that--it's clearly my problem, not the movie's. I just don't thrill to poetry. It's some faulty wiring in my English major literary obsessive-compulsive make-up, I think. So when Abby Cornish and Ben Whishaw trade lines of Keats, I get bored. There are plenty of reviewers who find that scene to be "sexy as hell." I keep thinking that I'm damn glad I didn't live back then, because I'm finding on-line solitaire to be more engaging that this movie.
The plot, for those of you who aren't already enormous Keats fans, is pretty simple. In 1818 or so, John Keats shares rooms with another poet in the village of Hampstead; then it was a rural village, now it has been swallowed by London and is a station on the Northern Line. He meets the 18 year old Frances "Fanny" Brawne, they fall in love, he writes poems, gets tuberculosis and dies, The End. The movie covers a period of about a year, from their first meeting to Keats' death in Rome.
So, Fanny Brawne is a seamstress, who is voluably vain about her stitching skills.
The only triple-pleated mushroom collar in two counties.
When we first see her, she is wearing some ridiculous get-up yellow and red, that stands out like a McDonald's billboard in the earth tones of her village surroundings. Admittedly, I have a problem with the fashions of the era, since the men's trousers reach up to their nipples and tend to look like they are designed to create permanent wedgies, while women's gowns look like pleated maternity sacks, topped with extreme bolero jacket/shrugs. Both genders are also be-hatted with the most exaggerated of millinery.
The Carrie Bradshaw of 1819
So Fanny, being passionate about fashion, manages to make these silly looks even sillier. Abby Cornish manages to wear these monstrosities with a straight face, so good for her. But really, after seeing her in the perfectly silly get-up of the opening scenes, I found it hard to take her the least bit seriously.
Ben Whishaw plays John Keats with a pathetic excuse for a moustache and a bit of a Beatles mop: his straggling facial hair makes Orlando Bloom look positively hirsute.
Leading men who don't yet shave.
So, I'm failing to clasp this movie to my bosom and declare us "Best Friends Forevah!" My bad.
Keats shares rooms with a Scottish poet named Charles Brown, and Brown and Fanny don't get along well at all. In fact, in a modern movie, their snappy dialogue would totally mark them as the fated lovers. They certainly have similar sartorial styles; Brown insists on wearing tight plaid pants and waistcoats, with a vulgar pattern that would make even Pat Field look away. Alas, it soon turns out that the war of wit between Fanny and Brown is the indication that they truly do not like each other. But Keats loves them both, and they both love Keats, which makes them mortal enemies.
I'm a real man, with a real beard. Sadly, you can't see the sartorial splendor of my tartan pants. I guess the Scotch don't have decent dress sense.
The movie is beautiful, with lovely visuals of Keats lying on the top branches of an apple tree in bloom, or Fanny reading a letter in a field of bluebells.
John Keats, seeking a nightingale nest on a dare.
Fanny Brawne, in a rare moment of paying attention to her sister.
Everyone is against the two of them coming together: Brown fears that Keats will be too distracted to write poetry, and Fanny's family aware that Keats is too poor to marry. But like the willful and Romantic souls they are, they hold hands, and sneak away to kiss in the grass.
Did non-engaged couples in the early 1800s snog this much? They never do in Austen novels. Fanny fails to endear herself to me as a character as she drags her younger brother and sister around Hampstead to places they are not supposed to be, just so Fanny can spend time with Keats. She even takes them to the rooms where Keats' younger brother is dying of tuberculosis. Her little sister asks to leave because "it smells bad." All I could think was that Fanny shouldn't be exposing her siblings to potentially fatal illnesses, and it would all end badly if little "Toots" Brawne died of TB as well.
Poor Toots Brawne: all this time passes and she never gets any bigger. Poor nutrition, I guess, and being generally neglected.
Later, when Keats and Brown go off for the summer to write, Fanny is short-tempered and nasty to her little sister, and ends up spending days in bed when Keats' letters don't come often enough for her. When she receives only a short letter from him, Fanny sends poor little Toots to the kitchen. "Fanny sent me to ask for a knife." "What does she want a knife for?" "To kill herself."
Yes, that's right, teenagers never change, do they. No, even back in the reign of George III, they were self-centered drama queens, mooning over a boy.
When Keats starts to cough, a room full of friends we have never seen before gather and convince him he needs to travel to a warmer climate and they will pay his passage. Fanny doesn't want him to go, but he says he has no choice, what with the passage already paid for. This is where a Regency self-help book would have been useful.
So he goes, and he never comes back, because he dies in February, and Fanny cries when she finds out, and she never takes off the ring he gave her, even though she lives for many years afterwards and marries and has children of her own.
For some reason, it never drew me in. Sure, I say that I have a cold, dead heart, but I cry at movies and books all the damn time. I cried my way through the "Twilight" books, even while deploring the bad writing and the hokey set-up. I cried through "Shakespeare in Love," even though I knew it was all fake. But I just didn't believe that the mouthy, vain, mean and fashion-obsessed Fanny was really truly in love with John Keats, so much as he was her first crush. And what was there about Fanny that Keats really loved? Sure, she looked great reading letters in a bluebell field, and she let him kiss her all the time; but what was there about their characters that made them a match? They lived in two halves of a small house, they were both the right age--and that was about it.
So, I'm dying to have somebody explain to me why this is a great movie, and how I can look at it so that I love it as much as everybody else does. I'd like to like this movie better than I do. As it is, though, I just don't.
I wanted to love this. Everybody else seems to--just check out its 83% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes, or Dana Stevens' video review over on Slate. Or the disappointment that it didn't get more attention from the Oscars, only a "kiss your sister" nomination for costume design.
But, I just didn't love it.
I will take full responsibility for that--it's clearly my problem, not the movie's. I just don't thrill to poetry. It's some faulty wiring in my English major literary obsessive-compulsive make-up, I think. So when Abby Cornish and Ben Whishaw trade lines of Keats, I get bored. There are plenty of reviewers who find that scene to be "sexy as hell." I keep thinking that I'm damn glad I didn't live back then, because I'm finding on-line solitaire to be more engaging that this movie.
The plot, for those of you who aren't already enormous Keats fans, is pretty simple. In 1818 or so, John Keats shares rooms with another poet in the village of Hampstead; then it was a rural village, now it has been swallowed by London and is a station on the Northern Line. He meets the 18 year old Frances "Fanny" Brawne, they fall in love, he writes poems, gets tuberculosis and dies, The End. The movie covers a period of about a year, from their first meeting to Keats' death in Rome.
So, Fanny Brawne is a seamstress, who is voluably vain about her stitching skills.
The only triple-pleated mushroom collar in two counties.
When we first see her, she is wearing some ridiculous get-up yellow and red, that stands out like a McDonald's billboard in the earth tones of her village surroundings. Admittedly, I have a problem with the fashions of the era, since the men's trousers reach up to their nipples and tend to look like they are designed to create permanent wedgies, while women's gowns look like pleated maternity sacks, topped with extreme bolero jacket/shrugs. Both genders are also be-hatted with the most exaggerated of millinery.
The Carrie Bradshaw of 1819
So Fanny, being passionate about fashion, manages to make these silly looks even sillier. Abby Cornish manages to wear these monstrosities with a straight face, so good for her. But really, after seeing her in the perfectly silly get-up of the opening scenes, I found it hard to take her the least bit seriously.
Ben Whishaw plays John Keats with a pathetic excuse for a moustache and a bit of a Beatles mop: his straggling facial hair makes Orlando Bloom look positively hirsute.
Leading men who don't yet shave.
So, I'm failing to clasp this movie to my bosom and declare us "Best Friends Forevah!" My bad.
Keats shares rooms with a Scottish poet named Charles Brown, and Brown and Fanny don't get along well at all. In fact, in a modern movie, their snappy dialogue would totally mark them as the fated lovers. They certainly have similar sartorial styles; Brown insists on wearing tight plaid pants and waistcoats, with a vulgar pattern that would make even Pat Field look away. Alas, it soon turns out that the war of wit between Fanny and Brown is the indication that they truly do not like each other. But Keats loves them both, and they both love Keats, which makes them mortal enemies.
I'm a real man, with a real beard. Sadly, you can't see the sartorial splendor of my tartan pants. I guess the Scotch don't have decent dress sense.
The movie is beautiful, with lovely visuals of Keats lying on the top branches of an apple tree in bloom, or Fanny reading a letter in a field of bluebells.
John Keats, seeking a nightingale nest on a dare.
Fanny Brawne, in a rare moment of paying attention to her sister.
Everyone is against the two of them coming together: Brown fears that Keats will be too distracted to write poetry, and Fanny's family aware that Keats is too poor to marry. But like the willful and Romantic souls they are, they hold hands, and sneak away to kiss in the grass.
Did non-engaged couples in the early 1800s snog this much? They never do in Austen novels. Fanny fails to endear herself to me as a character as she drags her younger brother and sister around Hampstead to places they are not supposed to be, just so Fanny can spend time with Keats. She even takes them to the rooms where Keats' younger brother is dying of tuberculosis. Her little sister asks to leave because "it smells bad." All I could think was that Fanny shouldn't be exposing her siblings to potentially fatal illnesses, and it would all end badly if little "Toots" Brawne died of TB as well.
Poor Toots Brawne: all this time passes and she never gets any bigger. Poor nutrition, I guess, and being generally neglected.
Later, when Keats and Brown go off for the summer to write, Fanny is short-tempered and nasty to her little sister, and ends up spending days in bed when Keats' letters don't come often enough for her. When she receives only a short letter from him, Fanny sends poor little Toots to the kitchen. "Fanny sent me to ask for a knife." "What does she want a knife for?" "To kill herself."
Yes, that's right, teenagers never change, do they. No, even back in the reign of George III, they were self-centered drama queens, mooning over a boy.
When Keats starts to cough, a room full of friends we have never seen before gather and convince him he needs to travel to a warmer climate and they will pay his passage. Fanny doesn't want him to go, but he says he has no choice, what with the passage already paid for. This is where a Regency self-help book would have been useful.
So he goes, and he never comes back, because he dies in February, and Fanny cries when she finds out, and she never takes off the ring he gave her, even though she lives for many years afterwards and marries and has children of her own.
For some reason, it never drew me in. Sure, I say that I have a cold, dead heart, but I cry at movies and books all the damn time. I cried my way through the "Twilight" books, even while deploring the bad writing and the hokey set-up. I cried through "Shakespeare in Love," even though I knew it was all fake. But I just didn't believe that the mouthy, vain, mean and fashion-obsessed Fanny was really truly in love with John Keats, so much as he was her first crush. And what was there about Fanny that Keats really loved? Sure, she looked great reading letters in a bluebell field, and she let him kiss her all the time; but what was there about their characters that made them a match? They lived in two halves of a small house, they were both the right age--and that was about it.
So, I'm dying to have somebody explain to me why this is a great movie, and how I can look at it so that I love it as much as everybody else does. I'd like to like this movie better than I do. As it is, though, I just don't.
Awash in Narrative
I have apparently broken through my reader's block: I have just finished "The Little Stranger" by Sarah Waters on audio, and have started Geraldine Brooks' "The People of the Book." I am wrapping up Kelly Link's "Magic for Beginners" and simultaneously starting "Becoming Jane Eyre" ebooks, and I actually have a quaint and archaic hardcover of Kate Atkinson's "When Will There Be Good News."
Not to mention that I just finished watching the complete first season (half season?) of Glee, and Jane Campion's movie "Bright Star," which was the Netflix replacement for "Wag the Dog" which I also finished last week.
And yes, I am managing to keep them separate in my mind, thank you for asking.
Not to mention that I just finished watching the complete first season (half season?) of Glee, and Jane Campion's movie "Bright Star," which was the Netflix replacement for "Wag the Dog" which I also finished last week.
And yes, I am managing to keep them separate in my mind, thank you for asking.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
It's Complicated, a Review
Let's cut to the chase: Meryl Streep is a National Treasure, and when she dies she will have to be stuffed and displayed in the Smithsonian. If James Cameron would "performance capture" Meryl Streep, she could play ALL the roles in ALL American movies over the next 50 years, and they would ALL be better for it.
Alec Baldwin is riding a second wave of success, fueled by "30 Rock" and you can see him determined to just love what he is doing. Since Streep famously enjoys acting, this is a great match up--a rom-com for the menopausal. Which is about all it is--light on actual human emotion but as glossy as a Crate and Barrel catalogue. It's fun, it's frothy, it's like merangue or pop rocks--glitters for a few moments but has no real substance.
You probably know the set up: Baldwin and Streep play Jake and Jane Adler, married for 20 years, divorced for 10. Jake married his much younger mistress and is taking a second trip through the hell years of young children and fertility treatments. The last of their three children has finally moved out of Jane's house, and the 22 year old youngest is graduating from college. While in New York for the graduation, Jake and Jane have dinner, drink too much, and end up in bed together. Jake thinks it's great, and Jane goes to throw up.
Back home in Santa Barbara, Jake keeps coming around, bullying his way back into Jane's life as much as back into her bed. Jane starts out conflicted, then decides to enjoy it, then changes her mind, then changes it back again, and yadda yadda comedy conventions.
HERE BE SPOILERS
(I don't know why I do that--because I always talk about the ending of everything. Anyway--)
In the end, however, Jane decides Jake isn't her future, and he takes that pretty well. She gets a second chance at the shy and nebbishy Steve Martin (?!?!?), a relationship that was all but scuttled by Jake's reappearance in her life.
And it was fun, and it was frothy, but. . . .
And there is always a "but."
"It's Complicated" straddles so many lines so awkwardly, that I am inclined to believe that the movie might have been scripted as one thing, and edited as another. In the end, it's not a bad movie, but it's not really a rom-com, and it has the tantilizing sense of having been this close! to being something truly original. Something that explored the fall-out of a mid-life crisis ten years later, on the occasion of a second mid-life crisis. And oddly, it looks like Nancy Meyers might actually have had more insight into Jake's situation than Jane's.
From the bits of information dropped throughout the movie, we discover that while in his late 40s, Jake had an affair with a woman half his age, divorced his wife and married the mistress. After about four years, the new wife ("Agness," played by Lake Bell) ran off with another man, had a baby with him, then came back to Jake with the "hell child" Pedro. Now she wants another baby, this time with Jake, but he's got fertility issues and so his life has gotten dreary and stressful. Pedro is an unpleasant child, and neither Agness nor Jake seem to have much time for him. Jake is a partner in his law firm, and is ready to slow down his work life, but can't because Agnes thinks they need a bigger house and another baby.
In contrast, Jane's life looks pretty charmed. The kids are great and well launched. She owns a restaurant that is apparently doing incredibly well--so much so that she is building a huge addition so she can have her dream kitchen. And a really big bedroom that brings in the morning sun. And only one sink in the bathroom. Sure, Jake's still got more money than Jane does, but she's not poor by any stretch, and the rest of her life looks fabulous. She's past the years of raising small kids, she's past worrying about her career. Jake has all the problems of a young man with a young family, but he's too old to work that hard any more.
But wait! you say. This is a Nancy Meyers movie! This is supposed to be a movie about Jane! So you would think. But really, how complicated is Jane's life? She's divorced. Her kids are all out of the house. If she gets back together with her ex-husband, it's really her own choice. On the other hand, Jake's the one with the compelling story. Why did he cheat? Why did he pick Agness anyway--she's pretty harsh, demanding, and generally unpleasant. Why did he take her back and why is he raising this other man's child?
What seems to have happened is that he tried to cheat age by marrying a younger woman, but now sees the benefits of life he left behind. So, like any spoiled man-child, he tries to escape his current unhappy life for the fantasy of a different one. Toward the end of the movie, he claims he's left Agness for Jane. What Meyers shows us is Jane's reaction. The real drama is in the scenes we don't see--how Agness discovered the affair, their confrontation, Jake's decision to leave, etc. etc. That is where the heart of the drama lives.
But wait! There's more! Early in the film, Meyers has two scenes where Jane hangs out with her three best friends. In the first one, the talk is all that Jane needs to start having sex and dating (in that order apparently). In the second scene, she confesses having an affair with Jake, which is treated like karmic payback for Agness. The friends then disappear entirely, and when Jane wants any further relationship advice, she goes to see her therapist.
Again, this choice cheats the audience out of the real drama of the situation. These women have been her friends since before the divorce, so they clearly have feelings about the wisdom of her "taking back" the guy who cheated on her, and who is currently cheating on his wife with her. There is some snappy dialogue about how they all still hate Agness, so Jane gets a pass for stealing her husband, but really? Why would these alleged friends want to see Jane go backwards like that? None of them points out that this is a bad idea? That Jake is a manipulative bastard and she'd be better off without him?
Instead, Meyers gives us a sort of generic "you go girl, you deserve this" support group, when real female friendships of that length of time would surely be less superficial. Wouldn't they? I mean, schadenfreude is all very well and fun, but Jane is their friend, and they wouldn't want to see her get hurt again would they?
There is a great deal that is unsavory about the relationship between Jane and Jake. I can suspend disbelief, and possibly even believe, that the two of them might end up in bed together at their youngest child's college graduation weekend. But while Jake is exulting in his virility, Jane is busy throwing up and deeply regretting what she's done. Back in California, Jake pushes himself past her reservations, and again she's unhappy and appalled by what she's done. In fact, it's not clear what, if anything, she is getting out of this relationship. He pushes her around, eats her good cooking, guilts her into taking care of him, manipulates the kids into making her give him what he wants--has she learned nothing in the 10 years she's been mercifully free of him? Like what it feels like to NOT be pushed around like that?
The movie I would have liked to see would have actually been about adults in this situation. Alex Baldwin jealously peeking into her windows while she's having dinner with Steve Martin? It's not funny, and it's especially not funny for characters in their 50s. I wanted to see Meryl Streep confront this emotional leech of an ex-husband and give him the benefit of her decade of life without him. That would have been satisfying!
A word about the kids as well. In the movie's present, they are 22, 25 and 27, and the oldest is planning her wedding. Which means at the time of the divorce, they were 12, 15 and 17. They claim to be damaged by the divorce, they claim to be surprised to see their parents behaving amicably after "10 years of not being able to be in the same room." But Meyers utter fails to show us any damage. The daughter planning her wedding has no qualms or fears about marriage, despite the fact that her parents apparently had an acrimonious divorce. The youngest keeps asking if Dad can't stay over, "he can stay in my room" when Mom doesn't want him around--and then they all turn against Jane when it seems like the two of them might get back together. There's no emotional sense to the way these kids act: they are more or less merely plot devices.
And poor John Krasinski--in one extended sequence of TMI, he spots his future mother-in-law and father-in-law sneaking into a hotel, kissing in the elevator, and his first reaction is to hide it all from his fiancee. Why? Why is this a secret he has to keep, and why does he have to be "comical" in his clumsy attempts to keep her from finding out what is going on? If I were in her shoes, and I discovered my fiance had deliberately kept me in the dark about something like that--something where he had NO reason to be involved, and I had EVERY reason to know about it--I'd be questioning whether I was marrying a carbon copy of my manipulative and bullying father.
It's a sign of the charm of these actors that they can act like such unbelievable idiots, and we continue to like them. And the movie is lovely to look at. And there is a rather clever bit where Jake decides to pose himself suggestively on Jane's bed, with only her laptop to screen his man bits. Brilliantly, Jane has been using that computer to video message with her architect, and the three way screaming is truly humorous.
Baldwin is to be commended on his bravery: with his meaty man boobs and solid round belly, swathed in salt-and-pepper body hair, he is far from the Hollywood ideal of a sexy man. And yet, there is not a hint of self-consciousness in his performance. After the "nekkid in my ex-wife's bed" stunt goes horribly wrong, he confesses "I thought you would find me irresistible. It never even occurred to me that you wouldn't." And we believe him.
Alec Baldwin is riding a second wave of success, fueled by "30 Rock" and you can see him determined to just love what he is doing. Since Streep famously enjoys acting, this is a great match up--a rom-com for the menopausal. Which is about all it is--light on actual human emotion but as glossy as a Crate and Barrel catalogue. It's fun, it's frothy, it's like merangue or pop rocks--glitters for a few moments but has no real substance.
You probably know the set up: Baldwin and Streep play Jake and Jane Adler, married for 20 years, divorced for 10. Jake married his much younger mistress and is taking a second trip through the hell years of young children and fertility treatments. The last of their three children has finally moved out of Jane's house, and the 22 year old youngest is graduating from college. While in New York for the graduation, Jake and Jane have dinner, drink too much, and end up in bed together. Jake thinks it's great, and Jane goes to throw up.
Back home in Santa Barbara, Jake keeps coming around, bullying his way back into Jane's life as much as back into her bed. Jane starts out conflicted, then decides to enjoy it, then changes her mind, then changes it back again, and yadda yadda comedy conventions.
HERE BE SPOILERS
(I don't know why I do that--because I always talk about the ending of everything. Anyway--)
In the end, however, Jane decides Jake isn't her future, and he takes that pretty well. She gets a second chance at the shy and nebbishy Steve Martin (?!?!?), a relationship that was all but scuttled by Jake's reappearance in her life.
And it was fun, and it was frothy, but. . . .
And there is always a "but."
"It's Complicated" straddles so many lines so awkwardly, that I am inclined to believe that the movie might have been scripted as one thing, and edited as another. In the end, it's not a bad movie, but it's not really a rom-com, and it has the tantilizing sense of having been this close! to being something truly original. Something that explored the fall-out of a mid-life crisis ten years later, on the occasion of a second mid-life crisis. And oddly, it looks like Nancy Meyers might actually have had more insight into Jake's situation than Jane's.
From the bits of information dropped throughout the movie, we discover that while in his late 40s, Jake had an affair with a woman half his age, divorced his wife and married the mistress. After about four years, the new wife ("Agness," played by Lake Bell) ran off with another man, had a baby with him, then came back to Jake with the "hell child" Pedro. Now she wants another baby, this time with Jake, but he's got fertility issues and so his life has gotten dreary and stressful. Pedro is an unpleasant child, and neither Agness nor Jake seem to have much time for him. Jake is a partner in his law firm, and is ready to slow down his work life, but can't because Agnes thinks they need a bigger house and another baby.
In contrast, Jane's life looks pretty charmed. The kids are great and well launched. She owns a restaurant that is apparently doing incredibly well--so much so that she is building a huge addition so she can have her dream kitchen. And a really big bedroom that brings in the morning sun. And only one sink in the bathroom. Sure, Jake's still got more money than Jane does, but she's not poor by any stretch, and the rest of her life looks fabulous. She's past the years of raising small kids, she's past worrying about her career. Jake has all the problems of a young man with a young family, but he's too old to work that hard any more.
But wait! you say. This is a Nancy Meyers movie! This is supposed to be a movie about Jane! So you would think. But really, how complicated is Jane's life? She's divorced. Her kids are all out of the house. If she gets back together with her ex-husband, it's really her own choice. On the other hand, Jake's the one with the compelling story. Why did he cheat? Why did he pick Agness anyway--she's pretty harsh, demanding, and generally unpleasant. Why did he take her back and why is he raising this other man's child?
What seems to have happened is that he tried to cheat age by marrying a younger woman, but now sees the benefits of life he left behind. So, like any spoiled man-child, he tries to escape his current unhappy life for the fantasy of a different one. Toward the end of the movie, he claims he's left Agness for Jane. What Meyers shows us is Jane's reaction. The real drama is in the scenes we don't see--how Agness discovered the affair, their confrontation, Jake's decision to leave, etc. etc. That is where the heart of the drama lives.
But wait! There's more! Early in the film, Meyers has two scenes where Jane hangs out with her three best friends. In the first one, the talk is all that Jane needs to start having sex and dating (in that order apparently). In the second scene, she confesses having an affair with Jake, which is treated like karmic payback for Agness. The friends then disappear entirely, and when Jane wants any further relationship advice, she goes to see her therapist.
Again, this choice cheats the audience out of the real drama of the situation. These women have been her friends since before the divorce, so they clearly have feelings about the wisdom of her "taking back" the guy who cheated on her, and who is currently cheating on his wife with her. There is some snappy dialogue about how they all still hate Agness, so Jane gets a pass for stealing her husband, but really? Why would these alleged friends want to see Jane go backwards like that? None of them points out that this is a bad idea? That Jake is a manipulative bastard and she'd be better off without him?
Instead, Meyers gives us a sort of generic "you go girl, you deserve this" support group, when real female friendships of that length of time would surely be less superficial. Wouldn't they? I mean, schadenfreude is all very well and fun, but Jane is their friend, and they wouldn't want to see her get hurt again would they?
There is a great deal that is unsavory about the relationship between Jane and Jake. I can suspend disbelief, and possibly even believe, that the two of them might end up in bed together at their youngest child's college graduation weekend. But while Jake is exulting in his virility, Jane is busy throwing up and deeply regretting what she's done. Back in California, Jake pushes himself past her reservations, and again she's unhappy and appalled by what she's done. In fact, it's not clear what, if anything, she is getting out of this relationship. He pushes her around, eats her good cooking, guilts her into taking care of him, manipulates the kids into making her give him what he wants--has she learned nothing in the 10 years she's been mercifully free of him? Like what it feels like to NOT be pushed around like that?
The movie I would have liked to see would have actually been about adults in this situation. Alex Baldwin jealously peeking into her windows while she's having dinner with Steve Martin? It's not funny, and it's especially not funny for characters in their 50s. I wanted to see Meryl Streep confront this emotional leech of an ex-husband and give him the benefit of her decade of life without him. That would have been satisfying!
A word about the kids as well. In the movie's present, they are 22, 25 and 27, and the oldest is planning her wedding. Which means at the time of the divorce, they were 12, 15 and 17. They claim to be damaged by the divorce, they claim to be surprised to see their parents behaving amicably after "10 years of not being able to be in the same room." But Meyers utter fails to show us any damage. The daughter planning her wedding has no qualms or fears about marriage, despite the fact that her parents apparently had an acrimonious divorce. The youngest keeps asking if Dad can't stay over, "he can stay in my room" when Mom doesn't want him around--and then they all turn against Jane when it seems like the two of them might get back together. There's no emotional sense to the way these kids act: they are more or less merely plot devices.
And poor John Krasinski--in one extended sequence of TMI, he spots his future mother-in-law and father-in-law sneaking into a hotel, kissing in the elevator, and his first reaction is to hide it all from his fiancee. Why? Why is this a secret he has to keep, and why does he have to be "comical" in his clumsy attempts to keep her from finding out what is going on? If I were in her shoes, and I discovered my fiance had deliberately kept me in the dark about something like that--something where he had NO reason to be involved, and I had EVERY reason to know about it--I'd be questioning whether I was marrying a carbon copy of my manipulative and bullying father.
It's a sign of the charm of these actors that they can act like such unbelievable idiots, and we continue to like them. And the movie is lovely to look at. And there is a rather clever bit where Jake decides to pose himself suggestively on Jane's bed, with only her laptop to screen his man bits. Brilliantly, Jane has been using that computer to video message with her architect, and the three way screaming is truly humorous.
Baldwin is to be commended on his bravery: with his meaty man boobs and solid round belly, swathed in salt-and-pepper body hair, he is far from the Hollywood ideal of a sexy man. And yet, there is not a hint of self-consciousness in his performance. After the "nekkid in my ex-wife's bed" stunt goes horribly wrong, he confesses "I thought you would find me irresistible. It never even occurred to me that you wouldn't." And we believe him.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Dream Machine.
As a book lover, I have dreamed about having a library in my house. In my dreams, it has always looked something like this:
As of today, it might just look like this:
MUCH more cost effective. Let's change the name, though, shall we?
As of today, it might just look like this:
MUCH more cost effective. Let's change the name, though, shall we?
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