frumiousb

Jezebel interview with Manohla Dargis. I may love her.


David Lynch on Return of the Jedi

Nicholas Ray has long been one of my favorite directors, with They Live By Night my favorite film. I have been carrying around this book of essays and class notes since graduate school. At that time, I read in the volume out of order-- jumping from chapter to chapter to find the pieces holding the most interest for me. So this is the first time that I sat down and read the book cover to cover.

First of all, if you're studying Ray and his ideas, this is an invaluable resource. For a couple of reasons, I'm not wild about his wife Susan writing his 'autobiography' at the beginning. Even still, that chapter has good background and interesting material. The Class Notes are where you can really dig out the ideas behind the works. I will warn you that reading them can take some patience.

I'm not sure how useful this would be for someone who has never known Ray as a director-- it isn't as valuable as a general book on film. Happily, I know most of Ray's body of work. I've just ordered Johnny Guitar to watch with my husband; he's never seen anything more than Rebel.

Finally got round to seeing Control, by Anton Corbijn. The Ian Curtis biopic. I have some longer thoughts about it, but generally want to recommend seeing it, even if not a Joy Division fan. It's one of the better music films that I've seen, and far better than the general run of biopics.

Home again. We're off to Switzerland in three days.

It's too hot. Wisconsin was hotter, but houses in Wisconsin aren't designed to keep the heat in. The cats and I seriously object.

(file under academic papers that I will never write.)

I want to say with all sincerity, that Mamma Mia! is a brilliant film. I'm not sure if it was my jet lag-fueled exhaustion or what, but I laughed, I cried, I generally enjoyed. I'm also quite sincerely sure that this film would not be for everyone. But for what it is and who it's aimed at-- perfect.

So what is it? Wish fulfillment for the Boomers. Excellently done and completely escapist wish fulfillment. And, honestly, even Generation X-ers like myself are probably getting old these days enough to nearly fully appreciate it too.

The film is a glittery wonderful world where true love is wasted on the young. In the Mamma Mia! universe, the only thing that restrains women in their 50s from being complete heartbreaking cougars is their well-centered indepedence. Remember that guy from highschool who dumped you for the girl next door after you slept with him? Don't despair! He's actually secretly pining for you, and has been his whole life. All those emotional investments in that you made when young *will* bear fruit in your middle life. Nothing is wasted! You could and did and will still have everything!

Meryl Streep is fabulous. She's clearly having the time of her life. Mad props to both her and the director for allowing her to appear without globs of makeup to make her look younger. More props for letting older women have a wide variety of body types. And still be depicted as sexy and attractive. Pierce Brosnan cannot sing! At all! And that makes him more adorable than I have ever seen him.

The movie-going equivalent to frozen margaritas in the sun on a Friday afternoon with your terrible wonderful friends. For once in my life, I'm going to tell you not to pay attention to the serious cranky reviewers. If this film is for you (and you know who you are!) then it will be really really fun.

I went to see The Band's Visit on Thursday with M. Very nice "everybody has a story" film. It had many opportunities to be really saccharine, and only took one of them. So big points for that. The sort of film where critics love to say "sweet and sour". But in this case, they'd be right.

The backdrop that the film is set in is kind of inevitably surrounded by the Israeli conflict with the Arab world. But I really love that the director avoided attempted wisdom. The only comments were oblique. Sideways glances.

Not a huge film, but nice.

Will Stanton as a hip pre-teen American? Oh, shame.

It looks appalling. :(

This is actually from a week or so ago-- fake healthy food and homemade cookies (the lemon crinkles). I thought about it last night because I made non-healthy Betty Crocker chocolate chip cookies. The idea was for B. to bring them to his father, but he forgot, so now we have a whole plate of them in house.

Speaking of comfort food, I finally saw Serenity last night. B. is not a Whedon fan, so I took advantage of his absence to see it.

I was expecting to love it, but was disappointed. Whedon works much better on the small screen than he does on the large, I think.

First of all, the character arc of Mal struck me as hackneyed. It's like someone told Whedon: "No, no, it's film. You *need* restorative three act structure." The idea was that he had to surrender his cynicism and rediscover the roots that made him fight against the alliance in the first place. One of the nicest thing about his character on the series was precisely his mixture of cynicism and idealism. He was a beautiful example of an idealist forced by life and circumstances into being a cynic. It felt like it dumbed down the complexity of the show to hang the story around his Need To Believe Again and accept River into his family.

Secondly, some of the actors just plain old didn't translate well to the big screen. Morena Baccarin is a case in point. She was moving to look at on the small screen, but felt wrong in the large. Now, I'll admit that may because she didn't seem to have much of a part in Serenity. I have no idea what she was supposed to be doing in the film, besides humanizing Mal. It would have been better to either leave Inara out or to include her from the beginning. And was it me, or were they purposely dumbing down what she does for a living? Is that a mass appeal thing?

Thirdly, I just recoiled from the whole Deep Dark Sekret thing. I won't spoil and indicate what it is, but it seems to me that River was secret enough by herself without the whole Miranda thing. Restorative three-act structure rearing its ugly head again, I guess. The alliance is more interesting as a villain when it is more complex. They make this huge point that the villain in this piece is so dangerous because he is an intelligent believer. But his belief hangs on being ignorant. It would have been much more interesting if he had been an educated believer who was the darker side of Mal-- believing that he is forced by circumstances to do what is wrong in favor of what is right. It was the quality of his own actions that should have made him doubt, not finding out the Gweat Sekwet.

Finally, it just wasn't a film. It was a long television show. There was nothing particularly interesting about the lighting or the cinematography or even the sound that gave me the feeling that Whedon knows what to do with the big screen. The special effects were kind of irritating, actually. I'm very curious to see what he's going to do with Wonder Woman.

Anyhow, I think that I'm going to hope that someone gives Whedon another television show. No shame in working to your strength, true?

This is the recipe that I made a few days ago, when I was a bit more mobile:



I used a Rioja in the recipe instead of the Beaujolais that we usually use. It was not at all subtle, and the sauce was as dark and deep as chocolate. Fall and winter are a nice time, since we can cook these nice stews. I may not be as good of a cook as B., but I can manage something nice from time to time.

If I could stand up more regularly, then I could devote my energy to improving my cooking skills.

( the great coq au vin thief )

State of the Belly Address

I slept pretty well last night, woke up for a few hours, but definitely an improvement. Baby is quieter today, which gave me something new to worry about, until I realized that I was being silly and just enjoyed being quiet myself. I still stayed pretty close to the bed. Given how painful the last few days have been, it seemed wise not to run around like a chicken just yet.

B. and I had a date night, and watched Brokeback Mountain. It was a nice film, beautifully shot. Made me nostalgic for things that I never saw. I wasn't very moved by it, however. Perhaps I'm just difficult to move these days. But their disconnection was complete enough that I never felt emotionally involved. Michelle Williams has surprising hidden depths.

A better day.

I spent my energy today making a Flemish sugar pie-- a custardy thing. It turned out pretty well, although I'm still occasionally surprised by the effects of the convection oven on temperatures and timing, so the crust was just slightly burned.

Ah well.

I thought that I was going to watch Quatermass and the Pit from Moviemile, one of my favorite films. But it turned out that they sent me the Hammer version instead of the original. Not too bad, but not nearly as creepy as I remember. I fell in love with it watching monster movies on Saturday afternoon as a kid-- stuck in my head all those years without any idea what it was until I recognized it from the description in Lipstick Traces. Any other Quatermass fans out there?

Words of the Day-- Gasconade to Sutler

Gasconade
Main Entry: gas•co•nade
Pronunciation: "gas-k&-'nAd
Function: noun
Etymology: French gasconnade, from gasconner to boast, from gascon Gascon, boaster
: BRAVADO, BOASTING
- gasconade intransitive verb
- gas•con•ad•er noun

Pactolus
a river, now in modern Turkey. This river contained gold sands that were the basis of the economy of the ancient state of Lydia. According to legend, King Midas divested himself of the golden touch by washing his hands in the river.

panado
Panada \Pa*na"da\, Panade \Pa*nade"\, n. [Sp. panada, fr. L. panis bread: cf. F. panade. See Pantry.] Bread boiled in water to the consistence of pulp, and sweetened or flavored. [Written also panado.]

Sutler
merchant: somebody who follows an army and sells goods to the soldiers ( archaic )
[Late 16th century. < obsolete Dutch soeteler < soetelen "befoul, do menial work"]

Found this bit of scarlet ribbon used as a bookmark in an old Mary J. Holmes book: The Rector of St. Marks. This is not one that came from my grandmother, but one that I bought at a later time. I wonder if it is a scrap from a dress, or whether it was always intended as a book mark. It is the same color as the book cover.


The Mary J. Holmes residence in Brockport, NY.

Films

Went with B. to see Miami Vice last night. I liked it or admired it or something stronger than tolerating it but falling short of loving it. The pacing gave me hives, at a certain moment. There were some really nice things done with the camera work.

Also got Dune from Moviemile. Boy, has that aged badly. We could not make it all the way through. I remember watching it and enjoying it-- and I generally like Lynch quite a bit. Perhaps I was just in a bad mood?

Dreams

Dream last night that I was dressing up like Wonder Woman and singing in bars. There was this other guy who dressed up like Superman and sang, and he had to sing with me. But he didn't like it, so he kept disappearing. I cheerfully admitted that I sang off key and made lots of jokes.

On my way to Amersfoort, I was sitting next to a young man typing away on his lap top. He was also drinking a very large beer. The smell of the beer was getting to me-- in the crowded hot train it made me distinctly ill.

He had sandy brown hair and was wearing a long-sleeved tee shirt.

His laptop was turned towards me, so I could see what he was typing. It was a song lyric-- something about how something a girl does makes him want to just shut up and play, stop and play. It would have made a better moment if it had seemed like a better lyric. Perhaps it was my nausea, but it just seemed pedestrian.

During the course of the train ride he must have picked out five more lyrics. I did not read any of the others.

Great Books

Am now reading The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion, lent to me by coco_keesses. I find it nearly too affecting to keep reading. Her distinction between grief and mourning is right on the mark.

Less Great films

Watched Dawn of the Dead remake while trying to do some work. Great cast, I thought. Shame it wasn't more interesting. The whole idea should have just been left with Night of the Living Dead.

Sniffing and jet lag, but he is home! He bought me fuzzy silver particle lounging socks from the Sharper Image as a gift. I do adore him, yes I do.

Furthermore, the heat has broken! I'm sure that there will be a moment where I get sick of cold and rain, but today it feels just heavenly. I slept well last night for the first night in a long time. I'm headache-girl today, but I am pretty sure that this is down to the change in the weather.

Grace continues to mend nicely, and has even seemed to bond with me as a nice side effect. I'm pretty sure that the tooth is actually just fine now that the swelling has gone down. Yesterday night, the cats very meanly demonstrated that they were angry at B. for going away by both congregating on my side of the couch.

I'm meeting abitblue for dinner tonight, which I am looking forward to doing. It is very difficult to believe that August is here. July was all about waiting for me, and I'm still waiting on most fronts. Very frustrating and I am afraid that it significantly cuts down on my entertainment value as a writer.

films

We watched The Killing Fields last night. It felt more than usually apt for this particular place in time. I am afraid that Schanberg did not come across as sympathetically as they might have wished, or perhaps that was part of the particular genious of the film? The score was as prominent as a character. It worked well, to my mind, in the evacuation scene but worked rather less well in other sequences. Hard to believe that I have seen Swimming to Cambodia but never got around to seeing this.

Other Stuff

Special Bite was a useful Dutch restaurant guide that set itself apart because it had categories like budget restaurants and "extra special do not miss". It has sadly redesigned itself, seemingly in an effort to become bland and useless. They have removed the categories and the ability to vote, and essentially made themselves into a less complete version of Iens. Too bad.

me at the site of the new building, dressed in requisite safety gear.

Smell of cigarettes in this heat is attractive, unusually for me. I smoked briefly in my early 20s and quit cold turkey and never looked back. No clue why it should suddenly smell good.

Grace has all at once decided that I am an acceptable substitute petter. She makes clear that she still doesn't actually *like* me, but until B. returns she will lower herself to allow herself to be petted by me.

I am as cranky as a little pile of driveway gravel. Heat and hormones. A deadly combination.

Watched The Eye. When B. is away I get to watch bad horror films. It's fun.

The price we bid for the property is apparently acceptable in terms of price, but in a bizarre soap opera twist, they apparently don't want to sell it to us. The real estate agent announced that she had given someone else an option a week and a half ago and that they have until the end of the day today to get in the first bid! This bears no resemblance to anything like normal real estate practice in Amsterdam and violates pretty much every ethical and professional code. Unfortunately, it appears that these professional and ethical codes are only self-enforced and there isn't a single thing that we can do about it right now. If tomorrow, we lose a place to live as a result of her actions, then there is damage (and possibly a discrimination case) and I swear that the bitch is going to find out how litigious Americans can be. I may not be able to do a damned thing to win the house, but am perfectly prepared to spend a few months making her life a living hell.

We have no clue why she would do something like this. One options says that she thinks that she can get more money out of this guy (although we actually bid asking price!). The second option is a little ickier-- she may not think that we're reliable (because I'm foreign, because she didn't like my shoes, who knows?) and since our bid is contingent on financing she may be concerned about taking the property off the market. In any case, it isn't right. But all we can do is wait. Sigh.

In other news, developed one of those delightful little bumps that are probably nothing but require yet another trip to the doctor to get checked out. And probably a round of time-consuming and or uncomfortable tests before they say that it is nothing. Timing couldn't be better, really. I'm convinced that if only the heat would break then everything would be just fine...

B. and I went to see Bo Diddley at the Melkweg on Wednesday. I was very excited to go. I had no idea that he still toured before I saw the notice about the show.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a great show. The songs were great, and he's still really impressive, but a lot of a good show is the dynamic that builds up from one song to another. Someone apparently screwed around with his guitar back stage, so he spent at least five minutes between each song messing with his guitar and amp.

What also kind of sucked was that a large number of tickets had been bought by some shitty advertising agency celebrating the birthday of the managing director. They have apparently used Bo in an advertisement. The assholes who worked for the agency clearly had no interest in the music. The whole time that we were trying to listen, we had four junior executive types and their wives droning on non-stop behind us. Rude, and particularly given that it was so hot I spent a lot of time controlling the impulse to strangle them to death. Crowd was a very strange mix of older folks, super hipsters and advertising agents. Weird vibe.

The heat also made it hard, despite valient efforts from the Melkweg to pump up the airco. We left a little bit before the end because I was starting to feel sick.

At 77, he clearly got tired very quickly. He preferred to stop between songs and talk for a while-- his hands look as though they hurt. When he did play, you quickly heard how much talent there was. I heard "Crackin' Up" which I had wanted to hear him play, but not "Diddley Daddy", unfortunately. Ever since the show, B. has been walking around calling "heeyyyyy, Bo Diddley" to our extremely puzzled cats.

( more pictures )

What else?

I'm currently being soundly defeated by a book on the economic history of Chicago. I'm telling myself that this is the heat making it difficult. May even be true.

We watched American Splendor last night and really enjoyed it. It was all the reviews said it would be-- helped that I'm a fan of the comic. But B. didn't even know that Pekar was a real guy until halfway through the film, and he loved it also. It was well shot, well written, well acted. Nice change of pace.

Our house is breaking down around us, just as it seems we may be able to buy our next house. Nothing like some last minute repairs to an apartment that you plan to sell anyhow. Ah well, luxury problem, although it hasn't felt that way this week. Our plumber comes back for the fifth time this week to try to address our leak problems.

I have lots to say about the situation in Lebanon, but it isn't even vaguely blessing counting and my reading about the situation has started to verge on the obsessive.