Midnight in Paris - so THAT'S what everyone's been raving about!

He had me at Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. 

From the start of Woody Allen’s latest effort, “Midnight in Paris”, I was hooked.  Sometimes film magic happens, and this is one of those instances.  He could have put Kate Hudson in it and I wouldn’t have minded.

I’ve always been a big fan of a director not pandering down to his audiences, and Woody certainly doesn’t do that here.  His Parisian landscape is full of references to artists and playwrights, literary juggernauts presented almost exactly as I’d imagined them from their stories – even though the actors themselves are all familiar.

The writing made me laugh out loud several times, which is something that I never do in a film.  Usually only British films can make me laugh, or perhaps an old slapstick.  Perhaps that’s where I found the charm – I’ve always thought of the 20s and the 30s as “my era”, a time of raunchy partying with stunning dresses where you basically dance (and drink) your life away.  Never mind that pesky little stock market thing in ’29.

This is a film of details – the costumes are perfect, the casting is perfect, the script is perfect.  Usually I’m not a big fan of the two leads – Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams.  I’d read that Woody didn’t even know who they were until he was flipping channels and found “Wedding Crashers”, and decided they’d be perfect.  And they are.

Owen Wilson plays the funny guy that we always knew he could be, the sympathetic, bumbling hero clearly about to marry the wrong girl, who just wants to appease everyone.  McAdams plays the bitchy fiancée, led about by her parents and their money and mesmerized by Paul (played wonderfully by Michael Sheen), who has got to be the most intentionally pretentious character I’ve ever seen portrayed in film.  Paul’s an expert in EVERYTHING.  I found him hysterical because there are people I know just like him.

But at the heart of the movie is Paris itself.  The film is an ode to Paris, similar to the way he honored London and the way that he’s always honored New York.  If there’s ever been a director who knows how to make a city a character all its own, it’s Woody Allen.  Personally, I’ve never wanted to go there.  I’ve now changed my mind – if for no other reason than to see the Monet in some museum that takes up a whole room.  (I really hope that does exist; if not, my heart will be broken.) 

The first several minutes of the film are nothing but location shots set to an upbeat score.  Everything is beautiful and harmonious.  The Eiffel Tower is shown both in daytime and night in order to show its brilliance when it’s alighted.

Woody hasn’t been this good in years, and this film deserves every bit of praise that it’s gotten and more.  I hope the Academy remembers this one come January.

Origin Stories - One Lump or More?

Is it harder to tell one origin story or multiple origin stories within one film? That’s the question that Marvel Studios had to answer this summer. With “The Avengers” now shooting, it’s necessary to fill in movies for all the lead characters to fill in the gaps. But at the same time, they also decided to reboot the “X-Men” franchise. So this summer gives us not only “X-Men: First Class”, they also gave us “Thor” and “Captain America” (to be reviewed later).

What’s the better choice? Multiple storylines – by a long shot.

Before I go much further, let me explain that I HAVE read some of the comics, and I have always found Thor to be the most boring character. He has no real intellect, and his superpower is a hammer. He speaks using outdated language. His alter-ego is a doctor. Yawn.

The cinematic version of “Thor” is just as boring. The villain is Thor’s brother Loki, who eventually becomes Sub-Mariner, but we don’t go there. Here he just whines a lot and looks like Magneto when he’s having a bad hair day (but looks better than Anthony Hopkins, tragically miscast). As far as effects go, the world of Asgard is brightly colored with more gold than an Oscar celebration. But once we get to Earth, everything falls flat. Natalie Portman puts in an appearance as geeky researcher Jane (the love interest), but unfortunately she has no chemistry with the lead. Kenneth Branagh would have done better to make another period piece than this dreck.

Conversely, “X-Men: First Class” is quite entertaining. It’s respectful to its predecessors but still stands as its own entity. I wanted to know the origin of the different mutants, some of which I was familiar with; others not.

The only downside is the involvement of the CIA Agent, played by Rose Byrne. Although I love her to death as an actress, her part wasn’t necessary. We know that the Government will get involved in all matters mutant-related, but to take it to that level was unneeded. James McAvoy NAILS being Professor Xavier, but Michael Fassbender steals the movie as Magneto, giving him a human side I hadn’t before seen. January Jones tries to show that she’s more than just Betty Draper, and she pulls off Femme Fatale Emma Frost as well as can be expected.

I know the previous “X-Men” franchise films were full of cameos, and the two here are right on the money. This film doesn’t suffer under the weight of any one lead character; it is a true ensemble film. That makes it even better. We don’t have to suffer through seeing everything from one point of view; it’s possible to see the story as a whole, which makes it more entertaining.

I concede that the Marvel Universe needs to be expanded. I just prefer the ensemble way to the solo variety. And I doubt VERY seriously that “Captain America” will be changing my mind on that.

Taking a New "Stab" at an Old Blog

I’m officially better now, so I figured it was time to take a new “stab” at writing. I figured I would start with something easy - “Scream 4”. It’s been awhile since I’ve been asked my cinematic opinion, and even longer since I wrote one, so here we go.

There are rules for these kinds of things, as listed below.

1. I cannot be totally objective about anything. I have my biases and will not change them. Take me as I am, people.
2. I only watch the films that interest me, unless it’s Oscar- nominated, of course.
3. The number of films I watch may increase or decrease depending on how redbox happy we become. I have watched two films in the last twenty four hours, with three more on deck.
4. I may or may not write up every film I see. It depends on how much time and energy I have to write.
5. If you want to know the plot of a film, you can go elsewhere. You don’t need me to tell you that. I will tell you my thoughts on the film, or my experience relating to the film, and THAT’S what you can’t get elsewhere.

Now, back to the review. I loved the original series. I thought it revitalized horror as a genre and gave it a wit and depth it had previously been missing. By the third film, it was a little tired, but that was still ok.

I’ve always loved Kevin Williamson’s writing, going all the way back to the sometimes cringe-inducing “Dawson’s Creek”. Unfortunately, Kevin’s now matured with the rest of us. Some of the dialogue is just bad, and when delivered by actors of basically two generations it can get rather tedious. There are a few one-liners that still work, but there’s an over-the-top factor here I don’t remember from the other films.

The first scene from the film was basically unnecessary, although it’s always nice to see one of my “Pretty Little Liars” girls (Lucy Hale). The second celebrity bit was HYSTERICAL and could have been my favorite part. By the time we actually get to the new story itself, I was a bit confused. Then again – I get confused often these days.

The old players continue to play their parts well – except for David Arquette, who drove me up a wall as normal. Can this guy do NOTHING normally? I understand that his character is exaggerated, but does it have to go THAT far?

Finally, did I guess the killer? Nope. That I attribute to Wes Craven and to Kevin Williamson. Not many films these days can keep me up until midnight or hold my complete attention, but this one did. For that, I thank them. How can they repay me? Don’t start a new franchise. As Ms. Prescott said, “Don’t f*** with the original”. You’ve done your remake – now let it be. But I’m pretty sure that won’t be the case.

Random Side Note: I'd like to thank my boyfriend Lou for helping me get back into film. and for telling me for months that I would and should write again. I love you.

Purely Personal Post....

I’ve been reading this book of essays written by Andy Rooney. For those who don’t know the name (and are probably under twenty-five), he used to be on “60 Minutes”. He’s a pretty famous writer, who usually wrote about 1500 words on some silly subject. I got the book for two reasons. The first is that I don’t really like novels right now; they require too much attention. The second is that I remember every time I watched “60 Minutes” (the few instances I did), I found his segment funny – and I like things that make me laugh.

In the course of the book, I found the following quote which I will repeat verbatim (it’s long, be patient): “There’s nothing mystical or magical about being a writer. A writer is just a person who writes something. There are almost no people who are not dentists who can fix teeth, but there are a lot of people who aren’t professional writers who write very well. This is one of the reasons why being a writer is tougher than being a dentist.”

Why did I find this amusing? Again – two reasons. One: I consider myself to be a very good writer. I’d say excellent sometimes, but that’s just immodest (and up to whomever reads this). Two: I haven’t written a word since the beginning of April, which is very unusual, borderline unacceptable.

Those of you reading this know the reason why I’m sure, but I’m putting it in print anyway. I fought cancer, and I beat it. Don’t get me wrong, on most days the after-cancer (as I call it) usually kicks my ass. I have surgery scars that are a pain in the stomach (they aren’t technically in my ass). I take multiple meds a day. I get tired easily, and I am currently embarrassed to go out, because I have a stupid bag attached to me 24/7. I can’t eat what I want anymore, which sucks for the newly discovered foodie in me. I’m starting chemo AGAIN in forty eight hours. Ironically enough, that’s almost as long as the treatments. I will continue all of these processes probably until the first part of 2012.

Some parts of having cancer at age 39-40 for me are just like reliving my teenage years and early twenties. I have the same fashion sense I did back then – only now it materializes in yoga pants and long t-shirts. My eating disorder from the 1980s came back with a vengeance. I was scared to eat anything when I got home from the hospital, and spent literally days having dry heaves after I put anything in my mouth (including Gatorade, which used to be my salvation). The panic attacks I used to have in my early twenties came back too. If you’ve never had a “mean red” (thanks, Audrey/Blake), it means that you literally can’t do anything (including moving) for total fear and have to just sit on the floor and rock back and forth. The good part is that my wonderful doctor gave me medicine which takes both of those feelings away, and as long as I take my meds regularly I’m in good shape.

But I also found out that there are some positive things that came out of this experience. One of the things I didn’t realize is the number of friends I have. Some of these are people who I would have just considered acquaintances but now check in with me very regularly. Some of these are people that I thought were friends that I now realize that could just be friends for life. I have remade contact with someone I used to be close to many years ago. I have issued forgiveness to myself for some things that happened in my past. You learn who cares and who doesn’t (as well as what matters and what doesn’t) when you sit in a hospital bed for several days.

My boyfriend and I have reached a plethora of plateaus in our relationship. He and my mother have finally reached détente. He’s been there for me as I’ve cried and as I’ve laughed. He’s held my hand through many sleepless nights, my hair as I puked, and he’s fanned my bottom with a picture of Johnny Depp (which doesn’t indicate my opinion on Mr. Depp at all). We are finally in a place where we are both grown up and mature and able to handle whatever life throws at us. As I tell him often, he didn’t sign up for the “in sickness and in health” but he’s handling all of this with a sense of grace that I didn’t know existed. Plus, going through all this with him has finally given us the healthy relationship that we’ve been trying to build for over several years.

I’m also working through some issues with the rest of my family. For many years, I felt ostracized from them. Now I realize that I did some of this myself. With maturity comes a sense of taking ownership of one’s deeds and misdeeds. I am also working to rectify this – one person at a time. I don’t need to make amends; I simply need to show up. And the competition that I thought was there was there only in my head. Yes, my family is confusing and we’d make a great sitcom (starring Tina Fey as me, of course – thanks, Sherry) but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Lastly, my mom and I are finally in a good place. We’ve actually been in the same house for several days without having an argument. I am starting to understand what makes my mom tick, and although I may not always understand it, I am learning how to deal with it (and in some cases, how to appreciate it). My mom is stronger than I give her credit for sometimes, and I do feel like I draw part of my strength from her. We are both learning different definitions of "advice" - she gives it, and for the first time in my life, I realize that sometimes she IS right. :)

Everyone tells me that I’m an amazing person; something which I’ve never really seen (and still don’t). People say that I’ve handled all this in a remarkable way – but really, what choice do I have? I’m an overachiever by birth. Does anyone REALLY think I was going to let cancer get the better of me? Chemo may give me chemohead, but it doesn’t take my intelligence forever; it just gets a much-needed vacation (as do I, from work). I have learned how to humble myself. I do need help sometimes, and the only way to let others know I need help is to ask for it. If I do that, the amount of help and support I get astounds me.

I don’t know if it’s the cancer, turning 40, or finally having the time to start thinking and reflecting, but I’m actually pretty ok. My life has gotten much simpler now – a metaphorical cleaning of the closet (thanks, Marshall). I know deep within me that I can get through all of this and come out stronger on the other side. The only way out is through (thanks, Alanis), and you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out (thanks, Anna). Sometimes clichés and song lyrics are the only things that work – then again clichés are overused because they’re all true, and the song lyrics I just stole.

I can’t say enough good things about all the people who have helped me through this – professional and otherwise. You all know who you are. I love you all, thank you all, and finally I hope that someday I can repay you all, under much better circumstances.

A solid (and temporary) end to theatricals

For my last theatrical film for an undetermined amount of time, where else would I go but my local arthouse? Everytime I go to the arthouse, I think I want to come back every week – I don’t, but I should. It reminds me that film as a medium is so much bigger than the multiplex and even bigger than Netflix. I always see at least one trailer of I film I didn’t know but now want to see. (In this case it’s “Beginners” with Christopher Plummer and Ewan McGregor.) The crowds are older and more respectful. There may not be cell service. In this particular theater, you take an escalator up just to get to the ushers. It’s the home of my favorite studio – Focus Features.

Speaking of Focus Features, the film I saw was the remake of “Jane Eyre”. Even sitting in the third or fourth row of an almost sold out theater, the film was great. It was exactly what I wanted, and a bit more than I expected.

I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve never read the book – although I do want to change that soon. (I added it to my growing book queue.) This means that I didn’t know the story, and that puts me at a big of a disadvantage given the out of order storytelling. But this is the literature of the Brontes and Austen, so it’s not THAT hard to follow along.

The best thing about the film is the performance of Mia Wasikowska. With each role young Mia takes, she seems to be becoming a better actress. Although most people know her as “Alice” from Burton’s recent version, she’ll always be Sophie from “In Treatment” to me. I remember thinking at the time that, if she made the right choices in roles and in life, she’d be one to watch. She’s rapidly confiming my opinion.

For me, there’s a charm to these English period pieces – the many remakes of “Pride and Prejudice”, “Wuthering Heights”, “Sense and Sensibility” et cetera that updated stories just can’t match. Yes, I know that Jane will end up with Rochester, and that Elizabeth will find security and equality with Mr. Darcy, but that doesn’t matter. I fully believe and wallow in their trials and tribulations (which should be an Austen book as well). Perhaps it’s because those characters all have a sense of individuality and intelligence sorely missing from modern stereotypical romances. And as an added bonus, people keep their clothes on!

I also appreciated the dialogue. Again, having not read the book, I’m sure that Jane’s barbs were quite sharp, but not quite as sharp as this version would entail. I believe that it’s the combination of all of these things that make the contemporary remake hold up just as well to any other version.

Side Note – I’d still like to see Jane Eyre/Rochester take on Elizabeth Bennett/Darcy in a literary tag team match to see who is the strongest couple. Or maybe I’m just watching too much WWE, which is just as mind-numbing as what passes for

No New Story, Morning Glory

When I first started this blog, I decided I would write once a week, or four times a month. I have only missed that self-imposed deadline twice - when my mother was ill, and when I was waiting for my newest grand-niece.

I pride myself on the fact that it doesn't take me long to write one of these pieces, usually about a half an hour. So it's not like I'm making a huge investment. Most weeks I really enjoy writing. I compile the ideas in my head throughout the week, so that by the time I actually sit down in front of the PC the words just pour out. I do revise most of what I write, because I also have a self-imposed word count (ever the overachiever).

It's not hard to write the raves or the rants - those are easy. My viewpoints, as I've often been told, are quite strong. The hardest ones to write are the ones that are in the middle - the averages ones. Such is the story with "Morning Glory".

The film is neither good nor bad. It was advertised as a "smarter" romantic comedy, one that was more about female empowerment than anything else. It was also advertised as a comedy. Given the cast and the fact that the writer of the script also wrote "The Devil Wear Prada", I figured I'd get something that was above average. I was quite wrong.

The film is so predictable that I kept it running while I cleaned both my kitchen and my bathroom and still knew exactly where I was in the story, and exactly where I'd end up. I can't exactly say I wasted my time, but I can say that it wasn't interesting in the slightest. Nor can I say that I laughed.

Where did it go wrong? First, Harrison Ford needs to be like Brett Favre and just retire already. He's too old for the leading man, and cannot pull off the old, cranky geezer. Diane Keaton tries with what she's given, but she isn't given much. Rachel McAdams is cute - there's no denying that. However, I'm still waiting for her to do something similar to "Married Life" - where cute isn't quite enough.

I guess the biggest problem I had with the film was that I didn't find it relevant. I don't watch morning TV. Before I go to work, I usually watch either hulu or ESPN. Most people I know use that time to clear their DVRs of whatever they missed the night before. And the plot was already covered by "Broadcast News" much better over twenty years ago.

Back then people cared about the news. Now they care about TMZ. I concede that it's above the standard rom-com, but not by much. I'll still take "The Devil Wears Prada" any day. Sometimes when you go to the same well too many times you come up dry, and that's exactly what happened here.

Icon Vs. Legend

An icon is on your computer desktop. You click it and a program starts automatically - no thought involved. You know which program you're opening because you recognize the icon. A legend is found on the bottom of a map. Before GPS, legends told you how far apart things were, and in which direction you needed to go. With Elizabeth Taylor's passing, we have lost not just an icon, but also a legend. It is important to know the difference.

I've read (and written) articles about the current state of film - how bad it is, how unoriginal, how so many "artists" are doing films for the paycheck or the awards. We have recognizable icons in the business today - Angelina Jolie, Julia Roberts, Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp. Supermarket tabloids tell all their innermost secrets, as long as they don't break confidentiality agreements. These people are movie stars - icons. They are not legends.

To be a legend, it's necessary to bring MORE to the table. Being easily recognizable makes you a movie star. It makes you famous. It can make you an icon - but nowhere near a legend. Legends are people like Clint Eastwood, who now directs as much as he acts. He got credit for giving a face lift to the genre that made him famous - the western. Another is Robert Redford - founder of Sundance. But it's not necessary to go behind the camera in order to be a legend. Paul Newman was a legend. His performances showed he wasn't just a great looking guy, he had talent and range.

True legends show you the way film is going. Whatever you may say about Elizabeth Taylor, you can't say she didn't have talent. From "National Velvet" where she stole a nation's heart to the ingenue in "Father of the Bride", giving Spencer Tracy as good as he was giving, she had the range. Plus, Taylor gets credit for being in (and almost dying for) one of the biggest box office flops ever - "Cleopatra". Talk about taking a risk!

But the one I remember most is "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" - the movie showing her at her bloated, miserable, venomous best. When I first saw it I was rather young and didn't get it. Now I now it's a stellar performance, once seemed too private and exhausting to watch. The closest we have now is "Blue Valentine", and even that's not that close.

It's a shame today's audiences don't really care to know what good acting really is. We'd rather see the same people make the same films over and over. Or we'd rather remake films because no one remembered them the first time.

It's also a shame that, given their age, more legends are leaving us. There aren't many people to fill their shoes, and most aren't even trying. And I think that's the biggest reason today's cinema is directionless.