I will now go back and give each of my previous entries a new label with one of the theme categories I've chosen. Let's see how well the system works. :)
...It works!
Monday, January 5, 2009
Excitement! Excitement! The categories are here.
Hi again, my two readers. I have finally decided upon the categories and they are:
A Supposedly Dumb Movie I'd Love To See Again
I Think I've Seen This One Before
Anything With THIS Actor's Gonna Be Good
Thanks For Hitting Me Over The Head
Escapes, Surprises, Adventures
How Not To End A Movie
Yes, that fifth one is a bit of a catch-all -- Well, technically it's a catch-many, not a catch-all because it's meant to include different kinds of things, but it remains distinct from the other five categories. How? You'll see.
A Supposedly Dumb Movie I'd Love To See Again
I Think I've Seen This One Before
Anything With THIS Actor's Gonna Be Good
Thanks For Hitting Me Over The Head
Escapes, Surprises, Adventures
How Not To End A Movie
Yes, that fifth one is a bit of a catch-all -- Well, technically it's a catch-many, not a catch-all because it's meant to include different kinds of things, but it remains distinct from the other five categories. How? You'll see.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
a supposedly dumb movie i'd love to see again
Hi. I haven't written in a long time. See, I was trying to come up with a way to make the blog work better. A way to make it more interesting for me and for you. So here it is. I have decided to have theme posts. I don't know how many themes there will be, but probably no more than 5. Gonna keep it simple. All my posts will have to fit into one of the themes. That's gonna be the rule.
You may wind up with some favorite themes and some others you skip. That would make more sense than just having to read about every movie I see. Also, I don't feel like writing about every movie I see.
So, Introducing Theme #1: A supposedly dumb movie I'd love to see again. Yes, of course I'm riffing off the late great David Foster Wallace's book. Apologies, RIP, David.
Recently I saw a couple movies that fit this category perfectly. One was 27 Dresses with the fun-to-watch Katherine Heigl. Oh! This gives me a chance to share with you that I have categories of actors, too, btw. Already in place but nowhere written down. The categories of actors are (roughly in order of highest to lowest): Capable of Anything; Extremely Gifted; Very Talented; Fun to Watch; Those I'd Love to Know; Always Seems the Same; Semi-Talented; and Not Talented. Only a couple of these categories contain an actual judgment call. The others are fun ways to talk about acting.
So, Katherine Heigl is in the fun-to-watch category. One of the categories I don't have to explain. She's fun. I loved seeing her parade through one garish bridesmaid dress after another.
But seriously. What was great about the movie was, it was supposedly just a romantic comedy, but it really touched on something many of us single gals feel deep inside and can't talk about. We can't talk about it because, well, it's so trite and we're supposed to have overcome it. The Wedding Dream. And the fact that we're supposed to have overcome it is part of the problem that the movie touches on. Jane (the main character) believes in love, but not in a silly way. She just does. Period. She still holds on to the Wedding Dream - the idea of marrying someone for love. Real love. And the great thing about Jane is, she doesn't mind talking about it. And the movie doesn't mind. And it's all normal and OK, and - even better! - the movie takes a gentle approach introducing the big problem we all face. The problem slips into Jane's consciousness in a subtle way, slowly coaxing her to give up her dream. That's how it happens to most of us in real life, too. The problem is, relationships are hard and flawed, so having high expectations for love is therefore naive, and when you're a grownup you're supposed to be realistic. Etcetera. These are all the reasons that many single gals can't talk about their unrealistic, naive, but still passionate feelings about marriage. "27 Dresses" is sweet, heartfelt, and honest. All without being too serious. It's a romantic comedy, after all. You get to watch Katherine Heigl singing "Benny and the Jets!"
You may wind up with some favorite themes and some others you skip. That would make more sense than just having to read about every movie I see. Also, I don't feel like writing about every movie I see.
So, Introducing Theme #1: A supposedly dumb movie I'd love to see again. Yes, of course I'm riffing off the late great David Foster Wallace's book. Apologies, RIP, David.
Recently I saw a couple movies that fit this category perfectly. One was 27 Dresses with the fun-to-watch Katherine Heigl. Oh! This gives me a chance to share with you that I have categories of actors, too, btw. Already in place but nowhere written down. The categories of actors are (roughly in order of highest to lowest): Capable of Anything; Extremely Gifted; Very Talented; Fun to Watch; Those I'd Love to Know; Always Seems the Same; Semi-Talented; and Not Talented. Only a couple of these categories contain an actual judgment call. The others are fun ways to talk about acting.
So, Katherine Heigl is in the fun-to-watch category. One of the categories I don't have to explain. She's fun. I loved seeing her parade through one garish bridesmaid dress after another.
But seriously. What was great about the movie was, it was supposedly just a romantic comedy, but it really touched on something many of us single gals feel deep inside and can't talk about. We can't talk about it because, well, it's so trite and we're supposed to have overcome it. The Wedding Dream. And the fact that we're supposed to have overcome it is part of the problem that the movie touches on. Jane (the main character) believes in love, but not in a silly way. She just does. Period. She still holds on to the Wedding Dream - the idea of marrying someone for love. Real love. And the great thing about Jane is, she doesn't mind talking about it. And the movie doesn't mind. And it's all normal and OK, and - even better! - the movie takes a gentle approach introducing the big problem we all face. The problem slips into Jane's consciousness in a subtle way, slowly coaxing her to give up her dream. That's how it happens to most of us in real life, too. The problem is, relationships are hard and flawed, so having high expectations for love is therefore naive, and when you're a grownup you're supposed to be realistic. Etcetera. These are all the reasons that many single gals can't talk about their unrealistic, naive, but still passionate feelings about marriage. "27 Dresses" is sweet, heartfelt, and honest. All without being too serious. It's a romantic comedy, after all. You get to watch Katherine Heigl singing "Benny and the Jets!"
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Philadelphia - 15 years later
I saw the advertising on AMC for the 15-year anniversary of "Philadelphia," that modern-day classic starring Tom Hanks and Denzel Washington, which brought the dark persecution suffered by victims of AIDS into the broad daylight of everybody's lives. It sought to teach the common man, the ignorant man, that AIDS was not an illness anyone could catch, not transmitted through ordinary human contact, and that we should not treat AIDS patients like the lepers of biblical times. It actually did more than that -- it made people face the fact of discrimination against gays, in general, in a way that as far as I know, no other movie had done before. (Please correct me if I'm wrong.)
So I thought I'd watch it again. Interestingly, something has happened to me between 1993 and now. (Something relevant to my take on the film.) I've learned a little bit about the law. I worked in a law school, first, then later worked in several law firms, dated a couple of attorneys, and then worked in a big-city courthouse. I've also done a lot of reading: law reviews, legal history essays. It's an area you might say I'm familiar with. So when I saw this film, which is a courtroom drama by genre, I paid some attention to the presentation of the case. I became less interested in the emotional aspects of a dying man's fight against discrimination. In this context, it's a totally different movie.
If you look at it for what it was meant to be (see first paragraph) it has a big emotional impact. For sure. Here's Denzel Washington, shaking a man's hand and then stepping ten feet back after he learns that the man has AIDS. Here's Tom Hanks, trying to read in the public library, but they want to put him away in a private room as if he needs to be quarantined.
However, if you begin paying attention to the actual court case, it becomes an infuriatingly bad movie. If you are trying to follow the arguments being made, you see instantly that they don't work. For instance, the defense attorney, in her cross examination, asks Tom Hanks a series of questions about his sexual encounters in a gay movie theater. What's the relevance in a wrongful termination lawsuit? Objection! When an objection is raised she states that her line of questioning goes to credibility. So, I the viewer take this to mean that she is going to prove he's a liar -- isn't that what you would think? That he can't be trusted? His word is no good? Something along those lines? Yet, she never proves nor disproves anything about whether the man is credible. She never even raises that issue! It makes no sense whatsoever. All she's doing is asking him about his sex life. When did he contract AIDS? Was it in a movie theater? Was it when he had sex with a stranger? Yes, yes, yes, he says (he doesn't deny anything). So for the movie's theme, I get it. People are homophobic. People thought homosexuals deserved to get AIDS because of their "lifestyles." It was ugly, ignorant, prejudiced and wrong to think that way. No one deserves to get AIDS.
OK. Does this line of questioning have emotional impact? Yes. Does it even try to sound like a point is being made, in a legal argument? No. He doesn't lie. She doesn't say he lied. She doesn't show that he lied. She doesn't even try to find out whether he lied about anything. The issue isn't even addressed.
Here's an even more glaring problem. Suppose I am not paying attention to the arguments and I'm willing to ignore the fact that neither of the attorneys is making a case. I mean, what if I had never worked in a law firm or courthouse? I'm just the average viewer now, and I don't pay any attention to the arguments. (Although this would be difficult, considering the entire movie takes place in a courtroom.) Minimally, I as the viewer care about what happens to Tom Hanks. Don't you? All my heartstrings are being pulled. Clearly I want him to win the case; I am pulling for him. So -- how bad is it that, when the movie is over and he wins the case, I can't even tell you why or how he won it?!
Usually, in almost every courtroom drama you'll see, there's a moment when the case turns; something is revealed, either in evidence or in testimony that changes the case and turns it around, usually in favor of the protagonist. Anyone, any viewer, even one with no legal knowledge, can point to the moment. It's the drama of the movie, so it's supposed to work. In "Philadelphia," that moment is skipped over. There is no convincing argument made by either side. All we have is one emotional moment after another, followed by the win, which I guess they figured we were expecting -- so it didn't have to be convincing. What a let-down. Way to treat your viewers like children. "Yay! He won the case! We're happy now, because this is what we knew would happen and it takes away the sting of death at the end! Everybody applaud the success!" Give me a break. I want to know, please tell me (now that I've invested all these hours in this courtroom), how did he manage to win it?
Was it because the partners could see lesions on his face? (There's this gut-wrenching scene where Tom Hanks unbuttons his shirt to reveal the prominence of lesions, viewable by the entire jury.) But we knew all along they could see the lesions, so nothing was proven by that display. In the beginning, the point was conceded that his employers saw the lesions but didn't know what they were. So that wasn't a breakthrough in the case. How dumb do you think I am? You think I've already forgotten the first half hour of the movie?
What I expected was that, at some point in the movie, Denzel Washington was going to uncover some proof that the partners knew about the AIDS. They claimed they didn't know; he had to prove they did in order to prove wrongful termination. He never proved that. So, I was very, very disappointed. And even though I can say, as I did in the first paragraph, that this movie did amazing things for society, when it was released in the early 1990s, it truly had impact because it opened our eyes to persecution -- I can admit that, but I can't say it was a good movie. It just didn't really try. That was the saddest part. Many movies include a legal case, and they also have another agenda, and yet they manage with a little effort, to weave together a story that is reasonable as well as emotional. This one didn't even give us the chance to use our brains. It wanted our hearts and that was all it went after. It didn't even try to put the pieces together in a way that made sense. "Who cares if it doesn't make sense? It made you cry, didn't it?" I hate that.
So I thought I'd watch it again. Interestingly, something has happened to me between 1993 and now. (Something relevant to my take on the film.) I've learned a little bit about the law. I worked in a law school, first, then later worked in several law firms, dated a couple of attorneys, and then worked in a big-city courthouse. I've also done a lot of reading: law reviews, legal history essays. It's an area you might say I'm familiar with. So when I saw this film, which is a courtroom drama by genre, I paid some attention to the presentation of the case. I became less interested in the emotional aspects of a dying man's fight against discrimination. In this context, it's a totally different movie.
If you look at it for what it was meant to be (see first paragraph) it has a big emotional impact. For sure. Here's Denzel Washington, shaking a man's hand and then stepping ten feet back after he learns that the man has AIDS. Here's Tom Hanks, trying to read in the public library, but they want to put him away in a private room as if he needs to be quarantined.
However, if you begin paying attention to the actual court case, it becomes an infuriatingly bad movie. If you are trying to follow the arguments being made, you see instantly that they don't work. For instance, the defense attorney, in her cross examination, asks Tom Hanks a series of questions about his sexual encounters in a gay movie theater. What's the relevance in a wrongful termination lawsuit? Objection! When an objection is raised she states that her line of questioning goes to credibility. So, I the viewer take this to mean that she is going to prove he's a liar -- isn't that what you would think? That he can't be trusted? His word is no good? Something along those lines? Yet, she never proves nor disproves anything about whether the man is credible. She never even raises that issue! It makes no sense whatsoever. All she's doing is asking him about his sex life. When did he contract AIDS? Was it in a movie theater? Was it when he had sex with a stranger? Yes, yes, yes, he says (he doesn't deny anything). So for the movie's theme, I get it. People are homophobic. People thought homosexuals deserved to get AIDS because of their "lifestyles." It was ugly, ignorant, prejudiced and wrong to think that way. No one deserves to get AIDS.
OK. Does this line of questioning have emotional impact? Yes. Does it even try to sound like a point is being made, in a legal argument? No. He doesn't lie. She doesn't say he lied. She doesn't show that he lied. She doesn't even try to find out whether he lied about anything. The issue isn't even addressed.
Here's an even more glaring problem. Suppose I am not paying attention to the arguments and I'm willing to ignore the fact that neither of the attorneys is making a case. I mean, what if I had never worked in a law firm or courthouse? I'm just the average viewer now, and I don't pay any attention to the arguments. (Although this would be difficult, considering the entire movie takes place in a courtroom.) Minimally, I as the viewer care about what happens to Tom Hanks. Don't you? All my heartstrings are being pulled. Clearly I want him to win the case; I am pulling for him. So -- how bad is it that, when the movie is over and he wins the case, I can't even tell you why or how he won it?!
Usually, in almost every courtroom drama you'll see, there's a moment when the case turns; something is revealed, either in evidence or in testimony that changes the case and turns it around, usually in favor of the protagonist. Anyone, any viewer, even one with no legal knowledge, can point to the moment. It's the drama of the movie, so it's supposed to work. In "Philadelphia," that moment is skipped over. There is no convincing argument made by either side. All we have is one emotional moment after another, followed by the win, which I guess they figured we were expecting -- so it didn't have to be convincing. What a let-down. Way to treat your viewers like children. "Yay! He won the case! We're happy now, because this is what we knew would happen and it takes away the sting of death at the end! Everybody applaud the success!" Give me a break. I want to know, please tell me (now that I've invested all these hours in this courtroom), how did he manage to win it?
Was it because the partners could see lesions on his face? (There's this gut-wrenching scene where Tom Hanks unbuttons his shirt to reveal the prominence of lesions, viewable by the entire jury.) But we knew all along they could see the lesions, so nothing was proven by that display. In the beginning, the point was conceded that his employers saw the lesions but didn't know what they were. So that wasn't a breakthrough in the case. How dumb do you think I am? You think I've already forgotten the first half hour of the movie?
What I expected was that, at some point in the movie, Denzel Washington was going to uncover some proof that the partners knew about the AIDS. They claimed they didn't know; he had to prove they did in order to prove wrongful termination. He never proved that. So, I was very, very disappointed. And even though I can say, as I did in the first paragraph, that this movie did amazing things for society, when it was released in the early 1990s, it truly had impact because it opened our eyes to persecution -- I can admit that, but I can't say it was a good movie. It just didn't really try. That was the saddest part. Many movies include a legal case, and they also have another agenda, and yet they manage with a little effort, to weave together a story that is reasonable as well as emotional. This one didn't even give us the chance to use our brains. It wanted our hearts and that was all it went after. It didn't even try to put the pieces together in a way that made sense. "Who cares if it doesn't make sense? It made you cry, didn't it?" I hate that.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Elegy
What a sad, sad movie. I love Ben Kingsley, I love his seriousness and his composure and his changeability and his intensity and his depth of feeling. I love his eyes and in this case, they were sad eyes. He can do anything with them; he can make them mean or cold or angry or hostile or threatening or intimidating or loving or gentle or sweet or intelligent or calculating or pensive or... I love Sir Ben Kingsley. What a fine, fine British actor he is. I loved him in "House of Sand and Fog" and "Schindler's List" and here again. What a treat.
I didn't love the movie, "Elegy," however; as much as I love a great romantic story, this one was just too damn sad. You've got to be prepared for some sadness with a title as obvious as "Elegy," but you don't need a somber piano score and a lot of extra tear-jerker dialogue when you've already got your heart out there on the line for doomed romance. Yeah.
I didn't love the movie, "Elegy," however; as much as I love a great romantic story, this one was just too damn sad. You've got to be prepared for some sadness with a title as obvious as "Elegy," but you don't need a somber piano score and a lot of extra tear-jerker dialogue when you've already got your heart out there on the line for doomed romance. Yeah.
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