I was stuck today. Not sure what to write about. I have lots of ideas, but I'm saving them for different days. I became a bit worried. Wondered if this was it for my blogging career. I didn't want to quit already. Not within one week.
I surfed the web, looking for inspiration. I saw it is Christopher Walken's birthday today. Thought I might blog about him and his movies and how he's a great guy that knows how to laugh at himself. How he has such a cult following. I know a couple of Walkenites. I do believe they have a mapped out plan to one day stalk him and meet him. I won't mention names though.
But I wasn't feeling it, the whole Christopher Walken thing. Sorry Mr. Walken. Happy Birthday, but I became inspired to write about something else. My childhood days of the 80's and the movies I grew to love.
The 80's was a great time for me to be completely influenced by Movies. The VCR was finally welcomed into my home. I was old enough to walk or take a bus to the movie theaters with my friends on hot summer afternoons. I was old enough to waste my allowance on 16 Magazine and Bop Magazine so I could wall paper my bedroom walls from floor to ceiling, much to my father's horror. The amount of push pin holes that multiplied in my room. (Sorry Dad!)
Ask any child/teen of the 80's what movies they remember most. They are not going to tell you Gandhi, Out of Africa, or Driving Miss Daisy. (All were Oscar Winners). They are going to tell you Breakfast Club, Just One of the Guys, Footloose, Mannequin, Top Gun, Dirty Dancing, and hundreds of other teen focused, cheesy movies that have defined that decade and our generation. The list just goes on and on. The 80's movies were the highest of all movies in the cheese factor, but they did cheese so well.
We learned so much from those movies. We learned to dance. We learned "Fair is Fair!" We learned that everyone of us is a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. We learned that a boy can be best friends with an alien. We learned "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." We learned that you don't f*ck with the babysitter. We learned Nerds can be cool. We learned that Goonies never say die. And we learned that "life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it."
(Bonus points for whoever can name the movies I quoted. No googling!!)
Everything was so bright, bold, florescent, big,and innocent in the 80's. For time that had so many movies about teen aged promiscuity it still remained innocent. Who can forget the time when Eric Stoltz realized that Mary Stuart Masterson was the one in Some Kind of Wonderful? When Tom Hanks saw past Darryl Hannah's fins in Splash? Or when Westley tells Princess Buttercup "As you wish."
The 80's also release classic adventure and action films. Star Wars was in it's glory. Doc Brown showed us and Marty McFly that we can go back to the future. An Austrian Robot promised he would be back (and he was. Again...and again...and again.) John McClane kicked Professor Snape's ass with bare, bleeding feet.
Sadly, the 80's are gone and so are some of its stars. You know you are getting older when the people you idolized and hung on your walls and in your lockers are no longer with us. Corey Haim recently passed on. Many people will remember him for the has been half of the two Coreys. At one time he was a bright, shining star. He was the awkward, weird geek in Lucas, his best role ever. He was the wheelchair bound werewolf hunter in Stephen King's Silver Bullet. He was the annoying little brother to C. Thomas Howell in Secret Admirer. And he was the vampire killer in his most famous role The Lost Boys. He was truly a gifted child and teen who simply got lost along the way to adulthood.
And we lost Patrick Swayze, one of the biggest stars of the 80's. He was the big brother in The Outsiders. He fought for America in Red Dawn. He was the boyfriend we all wanted and dreamed of in Dirty Dancing. And he continued into the 90's by making us cry in Ghost and by looking fabulous in drag in To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything Julie Newmar. He also was at the peak of the television mini series mania playing Orry Main in North and South, Books I and II. When you look back at his career you realize this man was truly a cinematic icon for his generation.
We've also gained some great actors and actress from the 80's. The jock, older brother in The Goonies went on to be nominated for his role in Milk. The geeky sidekick in Tuff Turf is now known to the world as Robert Downey Jr. The bully in Stand By Me is now known internationally as Jack Bauer. Duckie from Pretty in Pink is on Two and a Half Men. And remember that really nerdy kid that had to hire the pretty girl to be his girlfriend in Can't Buy Me Love? I believe he is now going by the name McDreamy. And yes...he is.
Back to Christopher Walken. Since it is his birthday I feel I should recommend one of his movies from the 80's. At Close Range. Excellent movie. He plays Sean Penn's criminal father. Both Christopher Walken and Sean Penn are excellent in it. And if you look closely, you'll see Jack Bauer with black hair in the background of some scenes.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Movies and Me
I can remember my very first movie experience. I don't actually remember seeing the movie, but I remember the excitement of going to see it.
I was three. At least that is what my mother would tell me. I was three and it was in the mid 70's. My parents and I still lived in a two bedroom Garden Apartment in Queens. I was sitting at a small dinette table with the newspaper opened before me.
It was the days before internet and you had to actually buy a newspaper to find out where the movie was playing, if it was still playing, and when it was playing. And since the theater had the right to change the showtimes, it was always best to call ahead to double check.
I can still hear my mother's voice as she spoke to some one on the rotary dial wall phone in the kitchen. You actually got a body when you called a place of business. There was no automated computer voice asking you to press numbers. Most phones back then didn't even have buttons to press. And if you didn't speak English, you were out of luck.
I was giddy with excitement. I looked at the ad in the paper. It could have been a small ad, but in my mind I remember it as being a full page ad. I couldn't read, but I knew the big words said "The Jungle Book". The picture had Mowgli, Baloo, and that black panther that never gets the credit he deserves.
And that's pretty much all that I remember. I don't actually remember going. I just know we did. And I know that I loved it. And I've loved going to the movies ever since.
Back then, going to the movies was a grand thing. Theaters only had two to four movies showing. The lobby was large and sweeping. Ushers wore bow ties and jackets. The popcorn was made right in front of you and it was served in a bucket the size of your garbage can. There was only popcorn, candy, and soda. No pizza, Nathan's hot dogs, burgers, nachos, ice cream, and slushees.
The screen was usually draped with rich, luxurious curtains. The seats were velvet. The other theater goers were quiet with respect. No cell phones. No distracting little lights going off as teens text each other. And if you put your feet up you got caught. If you were late, an usher would actually USHER you to your seat with a flashlight.
Some theaters had large, ornate pillars and fancy balconies on the side from the old days of live theater. Some had big balconies in the back that were reserved for the smokers and their families. I watched many movies in a blue haze thanks to my Dad.
Over the years the theaters changed. Gone were the drapes and balconies. The movie houses became multiplexes with stale, overpriced popcorn, and no order to the annoying teens that have to text and giggle and talk. We've been spoiled by the comforts of the VCR, the DVD player, and cable. Today's generation has been programmed to multitask. They can enjoy a movie while talking and texting.
Throughout the years the movie experience has changed. Not just the theaters, but we now welcome movies into our homes. There was once a time that if you loved a Disney movie, you had to wait for it to be re-released in the theater to see it. It wasn't just Disney movies, but E.T. and Star Wars too. They were re-released over and over. And we paid to see them over and over. There was no waiting for it to come out on cable. There was no buying it on DVD so you owned your very own copy.
The invention of cable and VCR was a beautiful thing. My parents didn't have much money, so we were one of the last to jump on the cable/VCR wagon. I remember when we got our first VCR. At the time we were living in a house. We had an old 19 inch color television in the living room and an even older black and white in my bedroom. The color one had rabbit ears. The black and white had a wire hanger and Reynolds Wrap.
The color television didn't get channel four. I don't know why. It was just a blueish-white screen. If I wanted to watch any of the popular NBC sitcoms, I had to watch it upstairs on the old black and white. The problem with that was the black and white needed to warm up. So, if I wanted to watch Facts of Life or Different Strokes I needed to turn the t.v. on hours ahead of time. One year, I had to turn the t.v. on before I went to bed just so I could watch the Thanksgiving Parade in the morning.
Anyway, it must have been a good a year the year we bought a VCR, because when my parents received their tax money they decided it was time for a new t.v. and to join the rest of the modern world and invest in a VCR.
It was amazing! Gone was the old, crappy 19 inch with dials. This television set was beautiful! It sat on the floor, the screen encased in wood. It had buttons! It had a remote! It had NBC! Imagine my surprise to find out that Mrs. Garrett was a redhead!
And the VCR. That VCR made us a very special member of society. We even had a membership card to prove it. We joined a video club that was right behind our house. And we rented our first two movies. My parents picked The Falcon and The Snowman. I picked Footloose. Or Flashdance. I don't really remember. It was the eighties and everyone was dancing in movies back then. But what I do remember was that we had finally arrived! We were part of the modern world. And I now had access to movies right...behind...my house!!!
And movies continued to influence my life. My first real job? A job that didn't involve watching over rug rats? A candy girl in the movies. I am proud to say that I worked in one of the last old theaters in our town. And our popcorn was popped fresh. I guess I should also mention that it was there that I met my husband. I mean, really...how could a girl resist a guy in a bow tie who really knew how to sweep up the popcorn from the floor? A guy who had a respect and awe for the old theater and loved to explore behind the giant screens where there were still old dressing rooms and dressing tables from the days of entertainment's yesteryear.
My first management job? Blockbuster Video. I am proud to say that I was responsible for thousands of titles in this country's first real major, mega video store. The best thing about that job? I was able to rent movies for free! And with that job I really got to meet some Movie Junkies. They would line up before the store even opened every week on new release day just to be guaranteed a copy of EVERY NEW MOVIE THAT CAME OUT THAT DAY! These people were true Movie Junkies. These people were passionate. These people had no jobs and were a bit strange. Okay, and I'm pretty sure some of them were bootleggers. But still, they made my job interesting.
Gone are the grand theaters and the video stores. Now, we have Netflix and Movies on Demand and Pay Per View. Now we have multiplexes. It's not the same. But, we still have movies.
I was three. At least that is what my mother would tell me. I was three and it was in the mid 70's. My parents and I still lived in a two bedroom Garden Apartment in Queens. I was sitting at a small dinette table with the newspaper opened before me.
It was the days before internet and you had to actually buy a newspaper to find out where the movie was playing, if it was still playing, and when it was playing. And since the theater had the right to change the showtimes, it was always best to call ahead to double check.
I can still hear my mother's voice as she spoke to some one on the rotary dial wall phone in the kitchen. You actually got a body when you called a place of business. There was no automated computer voice asking you to press numbers. Most phones back then didn't even have buttons to press. And if you didn't speak English, you were out of luck.
I was giddy with excitement. I looked at the ad in the paper. It could have been a small ad, but in my mind I remember it as being a full page ad. I couldn't read, but I knew the big words said "The Jungle Book". The picture had Mowgli, Baloo, and that black panther that never gets the credit he deserves.
And that's pretty much all that I remember. I don't actually remember going. I just know we did. And I know that I loved it. And I've loved going to the movies ever since.
Back then, going to the movies was a grand thing. Theaters only had two to four movies showing. The lobby was large and sweeping. Ushers wore bow ties and jackets. The popcorn was made right in front of you and it was served in a bucket the size of your garbage can. There was only popcorn, candy, and soda. No pizza, Nathan's hot dogs, burgers, nachos, ice cream, and slushees.
The screen was usually draped with rich, luxurious curtains. The seats were velvet. The other theater goers were quiet with respect. No cell phones. No distracting little lights going off as teens text each other. And if you put your feet up you got caught. If you were late, an usher would actually USHER you to your seat with a flashlight.
Some theaters had large, ornate pillars and fancy balconies on the side from the old days of live theater. Some had big balconies in the back that were reserved for the smokers and their families. I watched many movies in a blue haze thanks to my Dad.
Over the years the theaters changed. Gone were the drapes and balconies. The movie houses became multiplexes with stale, overpriced popcorn, and no order to the annoying teens that have to text and giggle and talk. We've been spoiled by the comforts of the VCR, the DVD player, and cable. Today's generation has been programmed to multitask. They can enjoy a movie while talking and texting.
Throughout the years the movie experience has changed. Not just the theaters, but we now welcome movies into our homes. There was once a time that if you loved a Disney movie, you had to wait for it to be re-released in the theater to see it. It wasn't just Disney movies, but E.T. and Star Wars too. They were re-released over and over. And we paid to see them over and over. There was no waiting for it to come out on cable. There was no buying it on DVD so you owned your very own copy.
The invention of cable and VCR was a beautiful thing. My parents didn't have much money, so we were one of the last to jump on the cable/VCR wagon. I remember when we got our first VCR. At the time we were living in a house. We had an old 19 inch color television in the living room and an even older black and white in my bedroom. The color one had rabbit ears. The black and white had a wire hanger and Reynolds Wrap.
The color television didn't get channel four. I don't know why. It was just a blueish-white screen. If I wanted to watch any of the popular NBC sitcoms, I had to watch it upstairs on the old black and white. The problem with that was the black and white needed to warm up. So, if I wanted to watch Facts of Life or Different Strokes I needed to turn the t.v. on hours ahead of time. One year, I had to turn the t.v. on before I went to bed just so I could watch the Thanksgiving Parade in the morning.
Anyway, it must have been a good a year the year we bought a VCR, because when my parents received their tax money they decided it was time for a new t.v. and to join the rest of the modern world and invest in a VCR.
It was amazing! Gone was the old, crappy 19 inch with dials. This television set was beautiful! It sat on the floor, the screen encased in wood. It had buttons! It had a remote! It had NBC! Imagine my surprise to find out that Mrs. Garrett was a redhead!
And the VCR. That VCR made us a very special member of society. We even had a membership card to prove it. We joined a video club that was right behind our house. And we rented our first two movies. My parents picked The Falcon and The Snowman. I picked Footloose. Or Flashdance. I don't really remember. It was the eighties and everyone was dancing in movies back then. But what I do remember was that we had finally arrived! We were part of the modern world. And I now had access to movies right...behind...my house!!!
And movies continued to influence my life. My first real job? A job that didn't involve watching over rug rats? A candy girl in the movies. I am proud to say that I worked in one of the last old theaters in our town. And our popcorn was popped fresh. I guess I should also mention that it was there that I met my husband. I mean, really...how could a girl resist a guy in a bow tie who really knew how to sweep up the popcorn from the floor? A guy who had a respect and awe for the old theater and loved to explore behind the giant screens where there were still old dressing rooms and dressing tables from the days of entertainment's yesteryear.
My first management job? Blockbuster Video. I am proud to say that I was responsible for thousands of titles in this country's first real major, mega video store. The best thing about that job? I was able to rent movies for free! And with that job I really got to meet some Movie Junkies. They would line up before the store even opened every week on new release day just to be guaranteed a copy of EVERY NEW MOVIE THAT CAME OUT THAT DAY! These people were true Movie Junkies. These people were passionate. These people had no jobs and were a bit strange. Okay, and I'm pretty sure some of them were bootleggers. But still, they made my job interesting.
Gone are the grand theaters and the video stores. Now, we have Netflix and Movies on Demand and Pay Per View. Now we have multiplexes. It's not the same. But, we still have movies.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Out of the Mouth of Babes
My six year old son has become obsessed with the movie Titanic. He becomes obsessed with different things very easily. We've gone through the dog phase, the Spongebob phase, the Phineas and Ferb phase, the Disney World phase, and now it's Titanic. Since this is not a kid friendly subject, I don't know whether to praise his mature sense of taste or to be a bit worried about his morbid sense of taste.
He has yet to see the movie in its entirely. Several weeks ago I had stumbled across the movie. It was the week before the Oscars and all the classic movie channels were playing movies that were recognized by the Academy. Titanic was on and it was about half way through the movie. I left it on because there was nothing else on and because it is just one of those movies that I can get swept away in time and time again.
It was the last half of the movie, which is pretty much a movie within itself right there. Let's face it. Titanic is two movies in one: the first half being a star crossed lovers' love story and the second half being a disaster flick. Come to think of it, this might be the perfect combination of a Guy Movie and a Chick Flick.
Anyway, the ship had just hit the iceberg and the movie took a hold of my son. He was enthralled by it. He had many questions and was so curious. I explained that even though Jack and Rose were not real people, that the disaster of Titanic really did happen. It seemed to amaze him that so many people died. That children and babies died. It amazed him even more that the ship still lays on the bottom of the ocean floor, a haunting, watery grave.
When the movie was over, he wanted to see more. He wanted me to Google pictures of the ship. He wanted to know how long ago it was and if it could ever happen again. I knew that a new obsession was forming.
The obsession never reached it's full peak like his former ones, but occasionally he would bring it up. He did make us watch a home video we had taken when we visited a Titanic exhibition back when he was a baby. He doesn't remember that trip and wishes he could, but was grateful that we had the good sense to film some it.
Last night, Titanic was on again. I asked if he wanted to see the beginning of the movie. Only the first hour, because then it was his bedtime. He was very excited and could not wait. Curled up under his Spongebob blanket with one dog on his side and his sister on the other, he watched with wide eyes.
He was a bit confused at first with Rose being old and the whole treasure hunter part with Bill Paxton and the submarines, but he caught on quickly. He actually seemed to really like the underwater sequences and the forensic observations once he was able to grasp it.
And then they flashed back and showed Titanic in her full glory, docked just before she set sail. And my son's eyes lit up. I could tell that for a little boy who had never even been on a cruise ship or seen anything larger than some East Long Island yacht, he truly appreciated Titanic's size, grace, and beauty.
And then he turned to me and said "Why didn't they test it? Why didn't they run all kinds of test to make sure it was safe?"
And I smiled. Such wise words for a little boy. I knew what he was thinking. Not only would lives be spared, but so would this great ship. He was right. They should have tested it in all different ways. But man is vain and greedy. To test meant more spending money and less coming in. They wanted to prove she was unsinkable. She was grand. She was remarkable. She was the ship of dreams. Too bad the world isn't run by six year olds. It would definitely be a better place.
I always wondered if the movie exploited the turmoil and horrors that took place on that fateful night. If it exploited the loss of lives. The despair of the survivors. A horrendous thing happened and we turned it into entertainment. We hired perfect looking people to play perfect looking fictional characters in a time where orthodontics, cosmetics, and plastic surgery were unheard of. We spent millions to make it and millions more to see it.
The people that died on that cold night were exploited, by James Cameron and by us, the viewers. But after seeing the compassion that my son holds for the people, the ship, and even the dogs that are occasionally seen in the movie I would think the victims would be proud in some way. It's almost one hundred years later and they have been slowly forgotten, but then a little boy discovers the movie and wants to learn more. And then he discovers compassion and sympathy for them.
Maybe they weren't exploited after all. They were memorialized. Memorialized with beautiful filming and haunting music.
He has yet to see the movie in its entirely. Several weeks ago I had stumbled across the movie. It was the week before the Oscars and all the classic movie channels were playing movies that were recognized by the Academy. Titanic was on and it was about half way through the movie. I left it on because there was nothing else on and because it is just one of those movies that I can get swept away in time and time again.
It was the last half of the movie, which is pretty much a movie within itself right there. Let's face it. Titanic is two movies in one: the first half being a star crossed lovers' love story and the second half being a disaster flick. Come to think of it, this might be the perfect combination of a Guy Movie and a Chick Flick.
Anyway, the ship had just hit the iceberg and the movie took a hold of my son. He was enthralled by it. He had many questions and was so curious. I explained that even though Jack and Rose were not real people, that the disaster of Titanic really did happen. It seemed to amaze him that so many people died. That children and babies died. It amazed him even more that the ship still lays on the bottom of the ocean floor, a haunting, watery grave.
When the movie was over, he wanted to see more. He wanted me to Google pictures of the ship. He wanted to know how long ago it was and if it could ever happen again. I knew that a new obsession was forming.
The obsession never reached it's full peak like his former ones, but occasionally he would bring it up. He did make us watch a home video we had taken when we visited a Titanic exhibition back when he was a baby. He doesn't remember that trip and wishes he could, but was grateful that we had the good sense to film some it.
Last night, Titanic was on again. I asked if he wanted to see the beginning of the movie. Only the first hour, because then it was his bedtime. He was very excited and could not wait. Curled up under his Spongebob blanket with one dog on his side and his sister on the other, he watched with wide eyes.
He was a bit confused at first with Rose being old and the whole treasure hunter part with Bill Paxton and the submarines, but he caught on quickly. He actually seemed to really like the underwater sequences and the forensic observations once he was able to grasp it.
And then they flashed back and showed Titanic in her full glory, docked just before she set sail. And my son's eyes lit up. I could tell that for a little boy who had never even been on a cruise ship or seen anything larger than some East Long Island yacht, he truly appreciated Titanic's size, grace, and beauty.
And then he turned to me and said "Why didn't they test it? Why didn't they run all kinds of test to make sure it was safe?"
And I smiled. Such wise words for a little boy. I knew what he was thinking. Not only would lives be spared, but so would this great ship. He was right. They should have tested it in all different ways. But man is vain and greedy. To test meant more spending money and less coming in. They wanted to prove she was unsinkable. She was grand. She was remarkable. She was the ship of dreams. Too bad the world isn't run by six year olds. It would definitely be a better place.
I always wondered if the movie exploited the turmoil and horrors that took place on that fateful night. If it exploited the loss of lives. The despair of the survivors. A horrendous thing happened and we turned it into entertainment. We hired perfect looking people to play perfect looking fictional characters in a time where orthodontics, cosmetics, and plastic surgery were unheard of. We spent millions to make it and millions more to see it.
The people that died on that cold night were exploited, by James Cameron and by us, the viewers. But after seeing the compassion that my son holds for the people, the ship, and even the dogs that are occasionally seen in the movie I would think the victims would be proud in some way. It's almost one hundred years later and they have been slowly forgotten, but then a little boy discovers the movie and wants to learn more. And then he discovers compassion and sympathy for them.
Maybe they weren't exploited after all. They were memorialized. Memorialized with beautiful filming and haunting music.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
A Guy Movie and a Chick Flick
Last night was supposed to be "the night". I was looking so forward to it. I was excited about it. I might have even posted about it on Facebook, that's how much I could not wait for "the night". Something was going to happen that has not happened in a long, long, long time. I was going to be alone. All alone. Just me, my couch, my three dogs. And of course the world of a couple of good movies.
You see, the kids were to sleep at Nana's. DH was to go out with an old buddy of his that was back in town. And I was going to make myself a lovely dinner for one that required nothing more than nuking it in the microwave, pour myself a glass of wine, and try and catch up on this year's Oscar Movies. I had it all planned. First: Inglorious Basterds. Next: The Blind Side. And finally: The Hurt Locker.
The kids went to Nana's early in the day. I actually took a nap in anticipation of a late night, just like Scarlette O'Hara at Twelve Oaks' Bar-b-que. When I woke up, it was over. DH was not going out. His plans fell through. My heart sank. My dreams were crushed. If I wanted to watch any movie, I would have to watch it with him sitting like a distracted child at Midnight Mass. DH does not sit through movies well.
After a hassle with some take out dinner that required two hours to mend I was finally able to watch a movie. Since DH was home, I chose a real "GUY MOVIE". Can't get anymore "GUY MOVIE" than Quentin Tarantino. And since the restaurant where we ordered take out had screwed up our order three times, I was in the mood for a good ole', violent, Tarantino movie. Not to mention Brad Pitt is easy on the eyes and might make up for Fidgety McFidgets who was sharing the couch with me. So, Inglorious Basterds it was.
I love Quentin Tarantino. If his name is attached to it, I want to watch it. I love his sick, twisted, violent sense of humor. I love that he shows no apologies for his overuse of the F word or off color humor. If that makes me sick and twisted too, then so be it. He does movies. He entertains. He's imaginative in the most bizarre ways. I don't get offensive easily. I'm a big believer in the phrase "It's just a movie".
So, with rage in my heart due to a disappointing evening, I watched Inglorious Basterds. Bottom line...it just wasn't violent enough. Crazy, huh? A grown woman...a MOM...is complaining that a movie wasn't violent enough. But let's face it: deep, down inside I think Moms are probably the most violent. We have that whole "Mama Bear" built inside of us that is just waiting to be unleash. Fortunately, God has given us the gift of common sense to counteract the rage we have boiling in the pits of our belly.
Don't get me wrong. Inglorious Basterds is violent. Just not as violent as most Quentin Tarantino movies tend to be. In my opinion, anyway. But it made me think that maybe Tarantino held back a smidge because in reality, World War II in Europe with Nazis is already a violent thought. Anyone who has picked up a history book or watched the History Channel knows the blood that was shed over in Europe. It was horrible. It was nightmarish. It was a shame to the human race. Maybe it's good that Tarantino held back.
In spite of the fact that the movie takes place during WWII and has Nazis as it's main focus, the movie is campy, fun, and humorous. It has that traditional Tarantino style, 70's cheese factor to it that only Tarantino does so well. I found Brad Pitt not so easy on the eyes in this movie, looking more like Marlon Brando in his Godfather days. Nevertheless, Brad Pitt was hilarious in this movie. It was a different role for him and he did it well.
I should also make note of Christoph Waltz who played a character who was nicknamed "The Jew Hunter". He was frightening and yet humorous at the same time. To combine that gleam of evil with the laugh of a court jester and to make me worried at one moment and laugh out loud the next was brilliant. Christoph Waltz truly deserved his Oscar for Best Supporting Actor.
The movie ended just after midnight and DH looked a bit relieved that he could now get up from the couch, play with the fan, tease the dogs, take a leak, grab a drink without me glaring at him. The channel that just happened to be on was one of those Women Channel that usually play movies about women getting justice, becoming stronger, fighting for their rights or a reality show that let's everyone know just how bitchy a woman can get over a wedding gown, swapping places with someone else, or trying to handle clowncar full of babies.
It just happened to be that this particular channel was playing Steel Magnolias. It had just started and DH was quick to comment "What is this? A chick flick?"
Yes. It's a chick flick. But not just any chick flick. It's the ULTIMATE CHICK FLICK.
This is not a romantic comedy. This is not cutesy. This is not quirky. And it doesn't star Matthew McConaughey. The only thing quirky and cutesy is the names. I never realized it until last night, but people named M'Lynn, Drum, Spud, Ouiser, and Clairee? That's whole lot of bad parenting going on.
I had not seen Steel Magnolias since before my children were born. Since before I even got married. It was the ultimate chick flick back then and it's the ultimate chick flick today. It makes you laugh and it makes you cry. Okay...it makes you sob. I'm talking ugly, sobbing, snot releasing cry.
I love how this movie has holidays in the background as a time table. I thought that was so great. And since it begins and ends with Easter, what a perfect movie to watch at the very beginning of Holy Week. I love the southern accents. I love how corny it sounds when Julia Roberts drawls out "My colors are Blush and Bashful."
I love Sally Fields. I just don't just really like her. I love her! And I love Tom Skerrit as the dad.
I love the friendship between the women. It's something I can relate to. I come from a circle of friends that is now establishing it's third generation of memories. There is nothing like a great friend to make you laugh when all you want to do is hit something or someone out of hopelessness and despair. (See, I told you Moms are full of rage. Maybe it's not the gift of common sense, but rather the gift of friendship that gets us through those angry times.)
Having not seen the movie in years, I saw one scene in a whole new way. When Jackson comes home to dinner burning on the stove, his toddler crying and screaming with fear, and Shelby collapsed on the floor...that just tugged at my heart. I think every mother has a fear of something suddenly happening to them physically while they are alone with their small children. Something that would render them useless and leave their children all alone and scared, too young to understand. Too young to deal with the situation. Too young to save itself from danger. To me, that was the most heart wrenching scene. And there is no friend in that scene to make it better. To pull that giggle out of you. To cradle your child and tell it everything will be okay. It's just your child, all alone and with no control.
Last night was not the night I was looking forward to. But it wasn't that bad either. I did get to see one Oscar nominated movie and really enjoyed it. And I watched the ultimate chick flick. I guess, when something doesn't quite go your way there is nothing greater than curling up on the couch watching a good angry movie or a warm, touching flick. Or both.
You see, the kids were to sleep at Nana's. DH was to go out with an old buddy of his that was back in town. And I was going to make myself a lovely dinner for one that required nothing more than nuking it in the microwave, pour myself a glass of wine, and try and catch up on this year's Oscar Movies. I had it all planned. First: Inglorious Basterds. Next: The Blind Side. And finally: The Hurt Locker.
The kids went to Nana's early in the day. I actually took a nap in anticipation of a late night, just like Scarlette O'Hara at Twelve Oaks' Bar-b-que. When I woke up, it was over. DH was not going out. His plans fell through. My heart sank. My dreams were crushed. If I wanted to watch any movie, I would have to watch it with him sitting like a distracted child at Midnight Mass. DH does not sit through movies well.
After a hassle with some take out dinner that required two hours to mend I was finally able to watch a movie. Since DH was home, I chose a real "GUY MOVIE". Can't get anymore "GUY MOVIE" than Quentin Tarantino. And since the restaurant where we ordered take out had screwed up our order three times, I was in the mood for a good ole', violent, Tarantino movie. Not to mention Brad Pitt is easy on the eyes and might make up for Fidgety McFidgets who was sharing the couch with me. So, Inglorious Basterds it was.
I love Quentin Tarantino. If his name is attached to it, I want to watch it. I love his sick, twisted, violent sense of humor. I love that he shows no apologies for his overuse of the F word or off color humor. If that makes me sick and twisted too, then so be it. He does movies. He entertains. He's imaginative in the most bizarre ways. I don't get offensive easily. I'm a big believer in the phrase "It's just a movie".
So, with rage in my heart due to a disappointing evening, I watched Inglorious Basterds. Bottom line...it just wasn't violent enough. Crazy, huh? A grown woman...a MOM...is complaining that a movie wasn't violent enough. But let's face it: deep, down inside I think Moms are probably the most violent. We have that whole "Mama Bear" built inside of us that is just waiting to be unleash. Fortunately, God has given us the gift of common sense to counteract the rage we have boiling in the pits of our belly.
Don't get me wrong. Inglorious Basterds is violent. Just not as violent as most Quentin Tarantino movies tend to be. In my opinion, anyway. But it made me think that maybe Tarantino held back a smidge because in reality, World War II in Europe with Nazis is already a violent thought. Anyone who has picked up a history book or watched the History Channel knows the blood that was shed over in Europe. It was horrible. It was nightmarish. It was a shame to the human race. Maybe it's good that Tarantino held back.
In spite of the fact that the movie takes place during WWII and has Nazis as it's main focus, the movie is campy, fun, and humorous. It has that traditional Tarantino style, 70's cheese factor to it that only Tarantino does so well. I found Brad Pitt not so easy on the eyes in this movie, looking more like Marlon Brando in his Godfather days. Nevertheless, Brad Pitt was hilarious in this movie. It was a different role for him and he did it well.
I should also make note of Christoph Waltz who played a character who was nicknamed "The Jew Hunter". He was frightening and yet humorous at the same time. To combine that gleam of evil with the laugh of a court jester and to make me worried at one moment and laugh out loud the next was brilliant. Christoph Waltz truly deserved his Oscar for Best Supporting Actor.
The movie ended just after midnight and DH looked a bit relieved that he could now get up from the couch, play with the fan, tease the dogs, take a leak, grab a drink without me glaring at him. The channel that just happened to be on was one of those Women Channel that usually play movies about women getting justice, becoming stronger, fighting for their rights or a reality show that let's everyone know just how bitchy a woman can get over a wedding gown, swapping places with someone else, or trying to handle clowncar full of babies.
It just happened to be that this particular channel was playing Steel Magnolias. It had just started and DH was quick to comment "What is this? A chick flick?"
Yes. It's a chick flick. But not just any chick flick. It's the ULTIMATE CHICK FLICK.
This is not a romantic comedy. This is not cutesy. This is not quirky. And it doesn't star Matthew McConaughey. The only thing quirky and cutesy is the names. I never realized it until last night, but people named M'Lynn, Drum, Spud, Ouiser, and Clairee? That's whole lot of bad parenting going on.
I had not seen Steel Magnolias since before my children were born. Since before I even got married. It was the ultimate chick flick back then and it's the ultimate chick flick today. It makes you laugh and it makes you cry. Okay...it makes you sob. I'm talking ugly, sobbing, snot releasing cry.
I love how this movie has holidays in the background as a time table. I thought that was so great. And since it begins and ends with Easter, what a perfect movie to watch at the very beginning of Holy Week. I love the southern accents. I love how corny it sounds when Julia Roberts drawls out "My colors are Blush and Bashful."
I love Sally Fields. I just don't just really like her. I love her! And I love Tom Skerrit as the dad.
I love the friendship between the women. It's something I can relate to. I come from a circle of friends that is now establishing it's third generation of memories. There is nothing like a great friend to make you laugh when all you want to do is hit something or someone out of hopelessness and despair. (See, I told you Moms are full of rage. Maybe it's not the gift of common sense, but rather the gift of friendship that gets us through those angry times.)
Having not seen the movie in years, I saw one scene in a whole new way. When Jackson comes home to dinner burning on the stove, his toddler crying and screaming with fear, and Shelby collapsed on the floor...that just tugged at my heart. I think every mother has a fear of something suddenly happening to them physically while they are alone with their small children. Something that would render them useless and leave their children all alone and scared, too young to understand. Too young to deal with the situation. Too young to save itself from danger. To me, that was the most heart wrenching scene. And there is no friend in that scene to make it better. To pull that giggle out of you. To cradle your child and tell it everything will be okay. It's just your child, all alone and with no control.
Last night was not the night I was looking forward to. But it wasn't that bad either. I did get to see one Oscar nominated movie and really enjoyed it. And I watched the ultimate chick flick. I guess, when something doesn't quite go your way there is nothing greater than curling up on the couch watching a good angry movie or a warm, touching flick. Or both.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Something Old, Something New
So, the past week I have watched over five movies. 6.5 to be exact. We'll get to that .5 a little later on. I watched newer movies like Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire and X-Men Origins: Wolverine. I stumbled upon two movies I had never heard of: Dim Sum Funeral and Wristcutters: A Love Story. Last night I revisited an old classic that was a favorite of mine when I was a child. A classic that had recently been remade. Clash of the Titans.
I remember the first time I saw the original Clash of the Titans. I was only 9 years old and at the beginning of my life long Star Wars obsession. My parents took me to an old movie theater where I became engrossed in the mythical tale Perseus, Medusa, Bubo the gold owl, and the Penguin from Batman. I remember being in awe of the creatures, the story, and the partial nudity.
I remember going home to cut out pictures of the movie from the newspaper and taping them to my wall. The movie must have made a big impact on me, because as the years went by the scenes slowly faded from my mind yet I chose this movie to honor with a big movie poster in my basement. It is framed and hanged with a selected few other movies to become part of our grown up idea of a playroom.
When I heard they were remaking Clash of the Titans, I thought "Oh, we have to see the original again." When I read that the remake was complete, I said to my DH (dear husband) "We really need to watch the original." And when I saw the trailers making their rounds on t.v. I said to my kids "You should really watch the old one."
The kids did not get a chance to view the old Clash of the Titans because they were already in bed when I discovered it was going to be on. So, last night I revisited the Gods and Goddesses, Perseus, Andromeda, Pegasus, and that stupid gold owl, and of course the little old guy from Rocky.
First off, I could not believe how much I remembered. Once the movie started I remembered it all. The vulture with the golden cage. The new mother with her infant being placed in a coffin and sent to their death at sea. The transformation of Calibos from human to horror that is only seen through an animated shadow.
I realized why I had loved this movie so much as a kid. The acting is mediocre. The plot is weakly written. Most of the special effects is awful. And the editing from scene to scene doesn't always flow. But those creatures. Those dated, stop-motion, animated, clay creatures. They were as creepy as all hell. And I got some sort of a sick, twisted thrill from the freaky, creepy, and sometimes horrifying abominations.
The evil Calibos has to be one of the scariest characters to ever grace the screens. He's not like most movie monsters. He doesn't do anything to make you jump, scream, then laugh weakly at your silliness. He doesn't wear a sports mask or carry an axe. He doesn't stalk promiscuous teens or haunt their dreams. He just stands there and looks...well, nightmarish.
In shots that were filmed from the waist up, Calibos was played by Neil McCarthy. And he was made up to be as ugly as sin. A face that would give a 9 year old nightmares for years. When Calibos was in a full body shot, he was made from the magic of stop-motion animation. At that was even creepier. Seeing him move with that jerky, slow movement. His thick tail switching from his blue onesie. It was so unreal. So nonhuman. Ugh! The horrors!
I'm not much of a remake fan, but I am curious to see how the advanced computer graphics will hold up to Harryhausen's claymation. I don't think it can. I realize that computer graphics are meant to make the impossible seem possible. Make the unreal look real. But that is what made the original 1981 version of Clash of the Titans so creepy. It looked unreal. It's like watching toys come to life and have souls of their own. Imagine, if you will, Play-Dough inching along with a will of its own. It's unreal and that is what scared me as a 9 year old and as an adult today.
So, revisit those movies you loved as a child but seem so dated and perhaps even cheesy. Remember that it must have been pretty good the first time around if they want to remake it again. It'll make you feel like a kid again as you remember exactly where you saw it and with who the first time around. And you might discover something new through your adult eyes. I know I did. I'm pretty sure my phobia with snakes has something to do with Medusa. And Harry Hamlin has more in his claim to fame than being Lisa Rinna's husband.
I remember the first time I saw the original Clash of the Titans. I was only 9 years old and at the beginning of my life long Star Wars obsession. My parents took me to an old movie theater where I became engrossed in the mythical tale Perseus, Medusa, Bubo the gold owl, and the Penguin from Batman. I remember being in awe of the creatures, the story, and the partial nudity.
I remember going home to cut out pictures of the movie from the newspaper and taping them to my wall. The movie must have made a big impact on me, because as the years went by the scenes slowly faded from my mind yet I chose this movie to honor with a big movie poster in my basement. It is framed and hanged with a selected few other movies to become part of our grown up idea of a playroom.
When I heard they were remaking Clash of the Titans, I thought "Oh, we have to see the original again." When I read that the remake was complete, I said to my DH (dear husband) "We really need to watch the original." And when I saw the trailers making their rounds on t.v. I said to my kids "You should really watch the old one."
The kids did not get a chance to view the old Clash of the Titans because they were already in bed when I discovered it was going to be on. So, last night I revisited the Gods and Goddesses, Perseus, Andromeda, Pegasus, and that stupid gold owl, and of course the little old guy from Rocky.
First off, I could not believe how much I remembered. Once the movie started I remembered it all. The vulture with the golden cage. The new mother with her infant being placed in a coffin and sent to their death at sea. The transformation of Calibos from human to horror that is only seen through an animated shadow.
I realized why I had loved this movie so much as a kid. The acting is mediocre. The plot is weakly written. Most of the special effects is awful. And the editing from scene to scene doesn't always flow. But those creatures. Those dated, stop-motion, animated, clay creatures. They were as creepy as all hell. And I got some sort of a sick, twisted thrill from the freaky, creepy, and sometimes horrifying abominations.
The evil Calibos has to be one of the scariest characters to ever grace the screens. He's not like most movie monsters. He doesn't do anything to make you jump, scream, then laugh weakly at your silliness. He doesn't wear a sports mask or carry an axe. He doesn't stalk promiscuous teens or haunt their dreams. He just stands there and looks...well, nightmarish.
In shots that were filmed from the waist up, Calibos was played by Neil McCarthy. And he was made up to be as ugly as sin. A face that would give a 9 year old nightmares for years. When Calibos was in a full body shot, he was made from the magic of stop-motion animation. At that was even creepier. Seeing him move with that jerky, slow movement. His thick tail switching from his blue onesie. It was so unreal. So nonhuman. Ugh! The horrors!And if Calibos wasn't bad enough, Medusa was added. Another stop-motion creature who is half woman, half snake and has a head of little snakes for hair. It's the way she first appears on screen that is awful. Again, that unreal slow movement appears as she pulls herself along on her arms. 
I'm not much of a remake fan, but I am curious to see how the advanced computer graphics will hold up to Harryhausen's claymation. I don't think it can. I realize that computer graphics are meant to make the impossible seem possible. Make the unreal look real. But that is what made the original 1981 version of Clash of the Titans so creepy. It looked unreal. It's like watching toys come to life and have souls of their own. Imagine, if you will, Play-Dough inching along with a will of its own. It's unreal and that is what scared me as a 9 year old and as an adult today.
So, revisit those movies you loved as a child but seem so dated and perhaps even cheesy. Remember that it must have been pretty good the first time around if they want to remake it again. It'll make you feel like a kid again as you remember exactly where you saw it and with who the first time around. And you might discover something new through your adult eyes. I know I did. I'm pretty sure my phobia with snakes has something to do with Medusa. And Harry Hamlin has more in his claim to fame than being Lisa Rinna's husband.
Friday, March 26, 2010
My Very First Post
My very first post. How unoriginal. But it's the truth.
I'm a mom, trying to make time pass on by as I struggle with getting my novel published. I'm also struggling with writer's block. So, as a lover of storytelling, I have resorted to watching movies. Tons of movies. I watch them in the middle of the night. I watch them when my children are at school. Just in the past week I have watched over five movies. Three of them in the past 24 hours.
The other day I watched Julie and Julia and I was inspired. After all, Julie was a struggling writer herself and was sort of stuck in her life. She needed a challenge and that came in the form of blogging about Julia Childs and her recipes. She challenged herself to cook every recipe from a Julia Childs cookbook within one year and blog about her adventures and misadventures.
At the same time, the movie portrays an important part of Julia Childs' life. She too was a housewife looking for a challenge. Looking for a passion. She found it in cooking and collaborating on a French Cookbook for American cooks. It took her years to get her book published. I cried when her copy arrived. I want to feel that thrill one day.
So, after watching the movie, I started to think about Blogging. It is, after all, writing. Then I began to think what should I blog about.
I read blogs. I'm entertained by many. It's amazing how people find a simple subject to blog about and turn it into something interesting, witty, colorful, and even heart touching. From bakery cakes gone bad to a housewife living on a ranch with a passion for her family, cooking, and photography.
I've read bad blogs. Blogs that are just mindless, numbing nothingness that try to sound grown up and come across as the same crap I put in my Hello Kitty Diary 30 years ago. Blogs that are really nothing but tooting their own own and holding give away contests, living some sort of Oprah fantasy.
I want to be a good blog. I want to write about something I love. Something most people can relate to. It took a couple of days and then I realized it. Since it was a movie that inspired me to blog, then I should really blog about movies.
I brainstormed how I would do it. Would I critique and review the movies? Come up with my own rating system? Analyze them? Break them down and put them back together again?
Maybe I should do a challenge like review one movie a day for a year? Three years? Five years?
The challenge is out. I have two kids. Thanks to them there are days where I can barely keep my eyes open to make it to Jeopardy, let alone watch the average 90 minute movie. A movie a day would just set me up for failure.
So, I decided to just write off the top of my head. Maybe I will break a movie down, rip it apart, or gush like a girl watching Twilight. Maybe I'll just...ramble on about it. Play it by ear.
The movies will be movies that I have never seen before, movies that I love and can watch over and over, and movies that I have not seen in years and it is time to watch it again with older, wiser eyes. Most of the movies will have been watched on cable. I love that On Demand button on my remote. I love being able to pick a movie in the middle of the night and curl up on the couch with no kids and no husband to whisk me back to reality with questions such as "Can I have a snack?" or "Did the dog pee over here?" And these questions always come just as the plot is about to wrap itself out. It's like my kids and husband time it. They wait for just the right moment to distract me. Usually it's about 30 seconds before the movie is about to end.
So, this is it. My Very First Post. It's going to be a learning experience, this whole new way of writing. Blogging. I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I will.
I'm a mom, trying to make time pass on by as I struggle with getting my novel published. I'm also struggling with writer's block. So, as a lover of storytelling, I have resorted to watching movies. Tons of movies. I watch them in the middle of the night. I watch them when my children are at school. Just in the past week I have watched over five movies. Three of them in the past 24 hours.
The other day I watched Julie and Julia and I was inspired. After all, Julie was a struggling writer herself and was sort of stuck in her life. She needed a challenge and that came in the form of blogging about Julia Childs and her recipes. She challenged herself to cook every recipe from a Julia Childs cookbook within one year and blog about her adventures and misadventures.
At the same time, the movie portrays an important part of Julia Childs' life. She too was a housewife looking for a challenge. Looking for a passion. She found it in cooking and collaborating on a French Cookbook for American cooks. It took her years to get her book published. I cried when her copy arrived. I want to feel that thrill one day.
So, after watching the movie, I started to think about Blogging. It is, after all, writing. Then I began to think what should I blog about.
I read blogs. I'm entertained by many. It's amazing how people find a simple subject to blog about and turn it into something interesting, witty, colorful, and even heart touching. From bakery cakes gone bad to a housewife living on a ranch with a passion for her family, cooking, and photography.
I've read bad blogs. Blogs that are just mindless, numbing nothingness that try to sound grown up and come across as the same crap I put in my Hello Kitty Diary 30 years ago. Blogs that are really nothing but tooting their own own and holding give away contests, living some sort of Oprah fantasy.
I want to be a good blog. I want to write about something I love. Something most people can relate to. It took a couple of days and then I realized it. Since it was a movie that inspired me to blog, then I should really blog about movies.
I brainstormed how I would do it. Would I critique and review the movies? Come up with my own rating system? Analyze them? Break them down and put them back together again?
Maybe I should do a challenge like review one movie a day for a year? Three years? Five years?
The challenge is out. I have two kids. Thanks to them there are days where I can barely keep my eyes open to make it to Jeopardy, let alone watch the average 90 minute movie. A movie a day would just set me up for failure.
So, I decided to just write off the top of my head. Maybe I will break a movie down, rip it apart, or gush like a girl watching Twilight. Maybe I'll just...ramble on about it. Play it by ear.
The movies will be movies that I have never seen before, movies that I love and can watch over and over, and movies that I have not seen in years and it is time to watch it again with older, wiser eyes. Most of the movies will have been watched on cable. I love that On Demand button on my remote. I love being able to pick a movie in the middle of the night and curl up on the couch with no kids and no husband to whisk me back to reality with questions such as "Can I have a snack?" or "Did the dog pee over here?" And these questions always come just as the plot is about to wrap itself out. It's like my kids and husband time it. They wait for just the right moment to distract me. Usually it's about 30 seconds before the movie is about to end.
So, this is it. My Very First Post. It's going to be a learning experience, this whole new way of writing. Blogging. I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I will.
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