Reasons Passing Understanding

In which I give my picks for Oscars 2011

2011-02-26T23:51:00.000-08:00

Best Motion Picture of the Year
Nominees:
127 Hours
Black Swan
The Fighter
Inception
The Kids Are All Right
The King's Speech
The Social Network
Toy Story 3
True Grit
Winter's Bone
It’s always nice, in these days of ten nominees, that the Academy members haven’t lost their minds and included one of the Twilight movies. This award will be fought out between The Social Network and The King’s Speech, and though I wouldn’t be disappointed with either winning, and I still don’t think it’s a lock, it’s looking like the King’s Speech will edge out a win. I’m picking the Social Network as my “should” win because it really blew me away. Darkest of dark chances that Inception will take everyone by surprise and get the Golden Dude.

Who should win: The Social Network
Who will win: The King’s Speech

Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role
Nominees:
Javier Bardem for Biutiful
Jeff Bridges for True Grit
Jesse Eisenberg for The Social Network
Colin Firth for The King's Speech
James Franco for 127 Hours
I am so gunning for Colin Firth on this one. He gets points from last year’s A Single Man, but honestly I think his performance in The King’s Speech stands on its own, and then some. There’s that accent, for one thing, and the way each word sticks painfully in his throat, the panic rising as the pause between words gets longer and longer…good lord. Possible upsets with Bridges and an outside chance for Jesse Eisenberg, who does a wonderful job in The Social Network, but I really think this is finally Firth’s. Hurrah!

Who should win: Colin Firth – “The King’s Speech”
Who will win: Colin Firth – “The King’s Speech”

Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role
Nominees:
Annette Bening for The Kids Are All Right
Nicole Kidman for Rabbit Hole
Jennifer Lawrence for Winter's Bone
Natalie Portman for Black Swan
Michelle Williams for Blue Valentine
Both Nicole Kidman and Michelle Williams pulled out beautifully real and draining performances in their respective movies. While Annette Bening is being touted as a possible upset, I really don’t think it was in any way an outstanding performance. Lawrence is by all accounts marvellous, but she’ll be going the Gabourey Sidibe route. This is Portman’s to win, and despite not being able to sit through Black Swan (apparently I didn’t even make it to the worst bits) it fits for her win.

Who should win: Natalie Portman – “Black Swan”
Who will win: Natalie Portman – “Black Swan”

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role
Nominees:
Christian Bale for The Fighter
John Hawkes for Winter's Bone
Jeremy Renner for The Town
Mark Ruffalo for The Kids Are All Right
Geoffrey Rush for The King's Speech
Mark Ruffalo just doesn’t deserve this one. It’s not a particularly outstanding performance, in a not particularly outstanding movie. The real fight is between Bale and Rush, and even then Bale has a massive head start. While I love Mr Rush in just about anything (he was still the best thing about Mystery Men) I think Bale deserves this.
Who should win: Christian Bale – “The Fighter”
Who will win: Christian Bale – “The Fighter”

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role
Nominees:
Amy Adams for The Fighter
Helena Bonham Carter for The King's Speech
Melissa Leo for The Fighter
Hailee Steinfeld for True Grit
Jacki Weaver for Animal Kingdom
I’m so proud of Jacki Weaver – for an Australian actress in an Australian film to be noticed by the Oscars, it’s got to be a roundhouse-kick-to-the-head kind of performance. So I kind of hope that she pulls a Tilda Swinton and surprises everyone. Other than that…Melissa Leo is the most likely to win, but little Hailee Steinfeld is storming up a strong chance of upsetting, largely, I assume, due to the shock everyone experienced by not being annoyed out of their minds by a small child in a western. An extremely strong bunch of women.

Who should win: Hailee Steinfeld – “True Grit”
Who will win: Melissa Leo – “The Fighter”

Best Achievement in Directing
Nominees:
Darren Aronofsky for Black Swan
Ethan Coen, Joel Coen for True Grit
David Fincher for The Social Network
Tom Hooper for The King's Speech
David O. Russell for The Fighter
With the King’s Speech gaining momentum as the awards draw closer, I’m going to bet that they split the vote and give Director to David Fincher. He’s a quality director and though there seems to be a lot of love for the Coens in Hollywood, he did a fantastic job on the Social Network. As someone who liked both films just about equally, I’d be quite happy for the latter to get its due recognition.

Who should win: David Fincher – “The Social Network”
Who will win: David Fincher – “The Social Network”

Best Writing, Screenplay Written Directly for the Screen
Nominees:
Another Year: Mike Leigh
The Fighter: Scott Silver, Paul Tamasy, Eric Johnson, Keith Dorrington
Inception: Christopher Nolan
The Kids Are All Right: Lisa Cholodenko, Stuart Blumberg
The King's Speech: David Seidler
I thought for a while that Inception might just get this, but the fantasy aspect of the film plays against it. The Academy doesn’t tend to class fantasy writing as “proper writing”, which is a shame, but there it is. Look at Fellowship of the Ring. Sigh. So, then. If we’re dismissing an amazing concept then it’s going to be The King’s Speech, which in itself is a wonderfully written screenplay, and thoroughly deserving.

Who should win: David Seidler – “The King’s Speech”
Who will win: David Seidler – “The King’s Speech”

Best Writing, Screenplay Based on Material Previously Produced or Published
Nominees:
127 Hours: Danny Boyle, Simon Beaufoy
The Social Network: Aaron Sorkin
Toy Story 3: Michael Arndt, John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Lee Unkrich
True Grit: Joel Coen, Ethan Coen
Winter's Bone: Debra Granik, Anne Rosellini
How I love Aaron Sorkin. Sure, he’s been known to plagiarise his own work shamelessly in the past (like, whole sentences), but the dialogue in the Social Network is all new and it’s fantastic. The elements of this story really are Shakespearean – it’s not a film about Facebook, it’s about greed, betrayal, envy, genius, ambition, twins, love, friendship… Grab yourself a ghost and some kids baked in a pie and you’ve got yourself a party.

Who should win: Aaron Sorkin – “The Social Network”
Who will win: Aaron Sorkin – “The Social Network”

Best Animated Feature Film of the Year
Nominees:
How to Train Your Dragon
The Illusionist
Toy Story 3
Confession: I cried during Toy Story 3, and not just once. This trilogy of stories manages to get to that little kid inside all of us, and it’s done so without ever losing that attention to detail and universal sense of humour. I feel all this despite the three thirty-somethings sitting behind me in the theatre talking about how hot Buzz Lightyear was. Score, Pixar, score.

Who should win: Toy Story
Who will win: Toy Story

Best Foreign Language Film of the Year
Nominees:
Biutiful (Mexico)
Dogtooth (Greece)
In a Better World (Denmark)
Incendies (Canada)
Outside the Law (Algeria)
It pains me to go against my ancestors, but I’ve seen a bit of Dogtooth and it’s freaking disturbing. Dudes. Therapy. I’m tipping In A Better World, with no prior knowledge.

Who should win: In A Better World
Who will win: In A Better World

Best Achievement in Cinematography
Nominees:
Black Swan: Matthew Libatique
Inception: Wally Pfister
The King's Speech: Danny Cohen
The Social Network: Jeff Cronenweth
True Grit: Roger Deakins
Come on, Roger Deakins. It’s totally your year. Nine goddamn nominations and some frankly stunning cinematography. Otherwise I’d go for either Jeff Cronenweth or Wally Pfister, but I really think it’s about time the Academy threw Deakins a bone. How many more Coen brothers films does he have to shoot?

Who should win: Roger Deakins – “True Grit”
Who will win: Roger Deakins – “True Grit”

Best Achievement in Editing
Nominees:
127 Hours
Black Swan
The Fighter
The King's Speech
The Social Network
Editing awards like boxing movies. This bugs me, but probably mostly because I have issues with boxing as a spectator sport. And so! Once again my inability to sit through Black Swan limits my ability to comment there, but what I saw looked pretty impressive, given the editing required when filming ballet from anywhere but the audience. The Social Network also has some stellar work, and I think I’ll be opting for it to take out the others.

Who should win: The Social Network
Who will win: The Social Network

Best Achievement in Art Direction
Nominees:
Alice in Wonderland
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1
Inception
The King's Speech
True Grit
Ah, Harry Potter. How I want you to win an Oscar. Not going to happen this year, however (though I’d love for them to prove me wrong), and I’m calling this a race between Alice in Wonderland and Inception. I’m going for Inception.

Who should win: Inception
Who will win: Inception

Best Achievement in Costume Design
Nominees:
Alice in Wonderland: Colleen Atwood
I Am Love: Antonella Cannarozzi
The King's Speech: Jenny Beavan
The Tempest: Sandy Powell
True Grit: Mary Zophres
Sandy Powell is one of the biggest guns in the costume designing world, so you can never really count her out. Having said that, Colleen Atwood is a worthy opponent (and she won the BAFTA) and her costumes really informed each character in Alice in Wonderland. The Academy’s love of period drama means The King’s Speech is the other major contender.

Who should win: Colleen Atwood – “Alice in Wonderland”
Who will win: Jenny Beavan – “The King’s Speech”

Best Achievement in Makeup
Nominees:
Barney's Version: Adrien Morot
The Way Back: Edouard F. Henriques, Greg Funk, Yolanda Toussieng
The Wolfman: Rick Baker, Dave Elsey
Explain to me how Alice In Wonderland gets a Costume nod but not a Makeup one? Rick Baker’s name carries so much cred with it that my vote automatically inches in his direction.

Who should win: The Wolfman
Who will win: The Wolfman

Best Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures, Original Score
Nominees:
127 Hours: A.R. Rahman
How to Train Your Dragon: John Powell
Inception: Hans Zimmer
The King's Speech: Alexandre Desplat
The Social Network: Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross
Wanna know something cool? I saw a concert at Albert Hall in London last year where a bunch of fantastic film composers conducted their best-known pieces with the London Phil. And while that’s cool in itself, one of those pieces was John Powell’s How To Train Your Dragon, and he was soooooo excited. Whee! Also the music was great fun, so part of me wants to see him win, but I think the smart money is with The Social Network’s trippy scoring. Also the guy’s name is Atticus, and I think that deserves an award. The King’s Speech is strong competition.

Who should win: Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross – “The Social Network”
Who will win: Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross – “The Social Network”

Best Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures, Original Song
Nominees:
127 Hours: A.R. Rahman, Rollo Armstrong, Dido("If I Rise")
Country Strong: Tom Douglas, Hillary Lindsey, Troy Verges("Coming Home")
Tangled: Alan Menken, Glenn Slater("I See the Light")
Toy Story 3: Randy Newman("We Belong Together")
Oh lord. He’s back. Randy Newman and his bloody Song. Eugh. (If you haven’t heard my rants on this subject, you’re obviously new. Email me. We’ll talk.) This category has gone rogue so many times it’s difficult to predict (see Hustle and Flow’s win for “It’s Hard Out There for a Pimp”…I mean, seriously). I could pick Toy Story 3, but I’m not gonna. It’s a matter of principles. I’m going for Menken’s reputation. I didn’t love the song from Tangled, but then, as noted, the wrong song has won here more than once.

Who should win: A. R. Rahman, Rollo Armstrong, Dido – “If I Rise, from 127 Hours
Who will win: Alan Menken, Glenn Slater – “I See the Light”, from Tangled

Best Achievement in Sound Mixing
Nominees:
Inception
The King's Speech
Salt
The Social Network
True Grit
What do fantasy films do when they can’t win the creative awards? They win the technical awards, that’s what. So this I’m giving to Inception, with a possible upset from The King’s Speech.

Who should win: The King’s Speech
Who will win: Inception

Best Achievement in Sound Editing
Nominees:
Inception
Toy Story 3
TRON: Legacy
True Grit
Unstoppable
I’m going with Inception again, but I’ve been wrong before in these categories. I also believe that, because sound editing is pretty much all there is in an animated film, more animated movies should win this category.

Who should win: Toy Story 3
Who will win: Inception

Best Achievement in Visual Effects
Nominees:
Alice in Wonderland
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1
Hereafter
Inception
Iron Man 2
Hello again, Mr Potter! Sit down, relax, you’re not going anywhere. The team from Inception, however, should get their speeches ready. To those who believe Alice in Wonderland should win, I say: Paris folding in on itself. Ba-dom dom.

Who should win: Inception
Who will win: Inception

Best Documentary, Features
Nominees:
Exit Through the Gift Shop
GasLand
Inside Job
Restrepo
Waste Land
What do I really know about this – no, I haven’t as yet seen any of them. I hear great things about Restrepo, but both previous award ceremonies and the word on the street gives this to Inside Job.

Who should win: Exit Through the Gift Shop (because it’s BANKSY)
Who will win: Inside Job

Best Documentary, Short Subjects
Nominees:
Killing in the Name

Poster Girl
Strangers No More
Sun Come Up
The Warriors of Qiugang
Even less known about this category. Eenie, meenie, mynee, mo…

Who should win: Killing in the Name
Who will win: Strangers No More

Best Short Film, Animated
Nominees:
Day & Night
The Gruffalo
Let's Pollute
The Lost Thing
Madagascar, a Journey Diary
I loved “Day & Night”, as I love most Pixar shorts. A fantastic mixture of 3D and 2D animation, with a sweet little story. I think the recent proliferation of the Gruffalo (as witnessed, non-plussed, in children’s book-and-toystores), may upset my plans. Basically anything but Madagascar.

Who should win: Day & Night
Who will win: The Gruffalo

Best Short Film, Live Action
Nominees:
The Confession
The Crush
God of Love
Na Wewe
Wish 143
Catch a tiger by the toe….

In which the OBlogs are a bit scarce this year

2011-02-26T22:24:00.000-08:00

Alternative Oscars haven't been around for a few years. A combination of dangerously low energy levels and lack of time have contributed to this being the only OBlog I've managed to churn out this year. Anyway, here they are.

Best performance by an inanimate object:
The boulder (127 Hours) – It's pretty big....I guess. Not as big as I was expecting, although I suppose it did the job…
The horcrux (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1) – almost drowns our hero and drives Ron out of the trio. It’s a lot of work for a bit of metal.
The spinning top (Inception) – never has such a small object sparked such a round of debate
The microphone (The King’s Speech) – managed to make it look looming and intimidating
The Harvard rule book (The Social Network) – ultimately useless, but it tries its honourable best
Rooster’s eye patch (True Grit) – he is WEARING that eye patch

Fictional location you’d most like to spend an afternoon:
The Mad Hatter’s tea party (Alice in Wonderland) – a little uncomfortable, maybe, and you’d have to change your seats every now and then, but you’d never be bored
The Future Room (Blue Valentine) – not, it turns out, all that romantic, but perhaps the future just isn’t like that
The tent (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1) – perhaps a bit short on entertainment, and a bit high on danger, but the company and locations would be pretty cool
Ken’s dressing room (Toy Story 3) – be honest, you’re dying to check out the rest of this wardrobe, this would be the most fun you’d have in an afternoon

Best one-liner:
“……..Timing is not my strong suit.” (The King’s Speech)
“I’m six foot five, 220 pounds, and there’s two of me” (The Social Network)
“No one appreciates clothes here, Barbie. No one!” – (Toy Story 3)

Transport of choice:
On pointe (Black Swan) – ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!
Your own small plane (The King’s Speech) – despite the inherent coolness of flying your own plane, I suspect my air sickness would limit any cool points
Long row boats (The Social Network) – put it this way, as long as you were in charge of steering, it’s a nice way to get around
Horses (True Grit) – I’m willing to accept that not everyone likes horses as much as me, even though I’m allergic…though I don’t suppose constant sneezing and antihistamines would fit in well in the old west. Still, considering the alternatives…

Best meal in a motion picture:
Urine and chocolate bars (127 Hours) – um…no.
“Eat me” cake and tea (Alice in Wonderland) – so long as you find the pot of tea without a dormouse in it
Nothing at all (Black Swan) – impossible. Utterly impossible.
Wine (The Kids Are All Right) – Annette Bening is a mean drunk
Vodka and Viagra (Love and Other Drugs) – hardly sustaining on a long-term basis…and now I’m regretting my choice of words

Beer and pizza (The Social Network) – not the healthiest of diets, but apparently it didn’t stunt anyone’s mental capabilities

Picks up next!

In which I find it difficult to find pictures of sound effects

2010-03-04T00:05:00.000-08:00

After a rather elongated break, we're back in our seats and ready for the awards for Best Sound Editing. To present is Stephen Hawking. Some thing this is in bad taste, but Gil Cates is at That Point where he doesn't care anymore. And Mr Hawking is happy enough, so here we go:

Nominees are:

ET: The Extra-Terrestrial - Ben Burtt, Richard Anderson (Burtt is a bit of a sound legend when it comes to creating artificial voices, including the creatures in Star Wars and WALL*E...on the other hand, it was the elderly Ms Pat Welsh, smoker of two packs of cigarettes a day, who provided the voice for ET. Hmm.)

Back to the Future - Charles Campbell, Robert Rutledge (because who doesn't want to see this film up here. It's freaking awesome)

Jurassic Park - Gary Rydstrom, Richard Hymns (the amount of animal calls they recorded to get a brand new voice for the T-Rex and the raptors)

Saving Private Ryan - Gary Rydstrom, Richard Hymns (pew! pew! pew! KABOOM!)

The Incredibles - Michael Silvers and Randy Thom (I've always wanted an animated film to win this. Just seems natural)

And the winner is....Ben Burtt for ET! And yes, it's largely due to the trivia, which is fairly awesome. Adding to the voice of the title character were: Spielberg himself, Debra Winger, Burtt's wife, asleep and with a cold, racoons, sea otters and horses and his USC film professor's burp. Now, who wouldn't brag about that until their dying day? Anyway, Burtt gives a largely unintelligible speech, but one at which Chewbacca and Jabba the Hutt roar with laughter.

Next up is Best Sound, and I have to be honest, at this point the, er, impartial judges are getting a little overwhelmed, and I think the following award categories may suffer for it. Nevertheless...

The Sound Barrier, 1952 - London Films Sound Department (if I knew how to type a shrug, that's what you'd see here)

The Sound of Music, 1963 - James Corcoran etc. (lots of the musicals got nominations, and I figured, what with the titles and all that singing in high places....)

Apocalypse Now, 1979 - Walter Murch, Mark Berger, Richard Beggs, Nat Boxer (Walter Murch had about three months in which to get the sound done, a fact not made easier by the fact that the previously-planned narration had been dropped...pretty impressive to go from that to an Oscar. A huge achievement in surround sound development)

Apollo 13, 1995 - Rick Dior, Steve Pederson, Scott Millan and David MacMillan (it sounds like this: WHOOOOOOOOSHHHHH! BANGGGG!)

Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, 2003 - Christopher Boyes, Michael Hedges, Hammond Peek and Michael Semanick (clash! oof! thud! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!)

And the Fantasy Oscar goes to....Apocalypse Now! Walter Murch looks immensely tired and overworked, and can barely hold his award. He is, however, dragged off the stage before he can get too far into his speech to Francis Ford Coppola about how he's a horrible man who worked him into the ground with unreasonable timelines and lack of understanding...he really doesn't even get that far, but I'm filling in the blanks for you here.

Everyone manages to pat down their sweaty foreheads, as the final deadline looms before them, like a great looming thing...

Yeah. Like that.

OBlogs: In which Grace Kelly almost gets a drill through the neck

2010-02-21T23:41:00.000-08:00

The producers have turned on the blessed, blessed air conditioning, and it's much more comfortable in the Kodak Theatre.

Anyway, John Hurt is presenting the award for Best Makeup, and this is because his film The Elephant Man was the reason for the creation of this award. And that's kind of special. The funny thing is that Alien, in which an alien burst out of John Hurt's chest in the cafeteria, was not nominated for this award. Swings and roundabouts.

Not nominated.

At any rate, the nominees are:

An American Werewolf in London, 1981 - Rick Baker (sort of a usual suspect when it comes to special makeup effects, Baker was also the first winner of this award, for, you know, turning someone into a werewolf)

Beetlejuice, 1988 - Ve Neill, Steve La Porte, Robert Short (bringing the mad, mad mind of Tim Burton to life)

Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, 2001 - Richard Taylor, Peter Owen (hobbits and elves and orcs! Oh my!)

Pan's Labyrinth, 2006 - David Marti and Montse Ribe (for the Pale Man, if nothing else, will become ingrained in your mind FOR EVER)

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, 2008 - Greg Cannom (making Brad Pitt very, very old, and then young and pretty again)

And the winner is...Pan's Labyrinth! You can tell that Rick Baker is a little crushed but up flashes a picture of the Pale Man and everyone murmurs assent while trying to look away discreetly, in hopes that they'll be able to get to sleep tonight.

A halt is called to proceedings as Rick Baker challenges David Marti and Montse Ribe to an on-stage paint-off! The challenge, to transform Nicole Kidman and Grace Kelly into grotesque versions of Freddy Kruger and Frankenstein's Monster, respectively. Baker is making headway on Kidman, but has run out of knives for her fingers and is badgering Cher for the razor blades attached to her headdress. Meanwhile, over at Kelly's station, she is WEARING those bolts, and Charlize Theron makes a note to accessorise this summer. It's all brought to a head when Kidman and Kelly, alarmed at the snowballing effect of their artists' one-up-manship, call a truce, and the Fantasy Oscar is cut down the middle and shared.

Billy Crystal flicks the lights on and off, calling for order, and everyone returns to their seats. Grace Kelly picks a stray bolt off her neck and Nicole Kidman performs a quick hairdo change.

Up next to present the award for Best Costume is Cher...which is a little awkward, yet sort of appropriate...Bjork is always there, but her swan dress is a little dwarfed by Cher's, er, ensemble...

Roman Holiday, 1953 - Edith Head (never has anyone looked as lovely as when dressed by Edith Head, the queen of old Hollywood glamour)

La Dolce Vita, 1961 - Piero Gherardi (iconic beauty and effortless style, and all of it in a fountain)

The Last Emperor, 1987 - James Acheson (an incredible feat of costume design, not the least because the Buddhist lamas could not be touched by women, and so extra male wardrobe hands had to be hired...)

Moulin Rouge!, 2001 - Catherine Martin (like a costume shop exploded! In a good way!)

Memoirs of a Geisha, 2005 - Colleen Atwood (recreating the fashion-heavy world of the Japanese Geisha)

And the Fantasy Oscar goes to...Edith Head for Roman Holiday! YEAH! Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly (now devoid of bolts and green paint) and Bette Davis all leap to their feet to pay homage (in case you're wondering, they all look AWESOME, and stylistically are kicking the ass of Gwyneth, Halle and Angelina).

Nobody challenges Edith to a costume-duel. That, gentlemen, is how we do that.

OBlogs: In which ponies share a stage with Ah-nald for the first time ever.

2010-02-13T22:56:00.000-08:00

Fred Astaire shoos the cabaret dancers off the stage and Ginger Rogers takes care of the ponies in tutus, wondering if it was worth the effort. A satisfied audience says yes.

Hell yes.

Moving on, Ah-nald is here to present the award for Best Visual Effects. He mentions that currently, one body part of his is, in fact, a visual effect of its own.

A brief murmur as everybody's thoughts plummet into the gutter for a moment.

Ho ho! It's his teeth! They're whitened!

Another brief pause as everyone thinks, in unison, "Yeah, RIGHT." There is, however, a smattering of laughter, because Ah-nald is still pretty massive.

See.

Side note: the trivia for visual effects is incredible. Pioneers you wouldn't expect, like Willow, which was the first film to use the morphing technique used to such, well, effect in T2 (below), and The Muppets Take Manhattan, which was the first to use green screen instead of blue! And Cliffhanger, which pioneered the digital "taking out" of suspension wires. Kind of integral, I suppose, given the subject matter.

Aaaaanyway. The nominees are...

Star Wars, 1977 - Pew! Pew! Pew! Lasers, everywhere!

Who Framed Roger Rabbit, 1988 - you think combining animation and real actors was easy? It wasn't.

Terminator 2: Judgment Day, 1991 - if you don't know why, you haven't seen the movie. You've also never seen any kind of documentary on visual effects. It isn't because of Ah-nald.

Jurassic Park, 1993 - It's totally not my fault that all these films are relatively recent. This award didn't even exist until 1963 (in which, I'm appalled to see, Jason and the Argonauts didn't even get nominated!). Anyway. Dinosaurs. Nuff said.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, 2002 - once again due largely to animation of a character, but in this case Gollum is ALWAYS an effect. Also the battle of Helm's Deep was sort of beyond cool.

And the winner is...

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers!!! (I must say, it's getting REALLY hard for the jury to make these decisions) But hurrah! All the little Weta people (apparently the staff of Weta Digital was doubled for the purpose of this film...there are a LOT of people on stage) file up with jollility to receive the award, because this is the Fantasy Oscars and EVERYONE gets an award! Ah-nald is no match for their numbers, and in seconds they swarm and he is seen no more. Never mind, though, because they're all so happy! Wheee!

Who would you say, at this point, is the person best suited to present the award for Best Editing? I'm going to go with Irony Lives Here, so out walks Warren Beatty and Gwyneth Paltrow, who represent people who could use a little editing when they start to speak.

Nominees...

(I'm explaining away the arbitrary nature of these picks by the fact that this portion of the ballot sheet was sort of fuzzy, owing to a shoddy refilling of printer ink. Which was also not my fault.)

From Here to Eternity, 1953 - William A. Lyon (someone had to say when to cut that little clinch on the beach...just kidding. It's probably more to do with the Pearl Harbour attack)

Lawrence of Arabia, 1962 - Anne V. Coates (the opening sequence, in which we fade from the burning match in Lawrence's hand to the burning Arabian sun. That's why.)

Raging Bull, 1980 - Thelma Schoonmaker (everyone likes a boxing match, but nobody edits one like Thelma Schoonmaker)

Saving Private Ryan, 1998 - Michael Kahn (bullets, hand-held cameras, explosions, death, blood, intestines...put it this way, this sequence could have been a LOT longer and less intense)

Slumdog Millionaire, 2008 - Chris Dickens (just one of the things it did really, really well)

The winner is Raging Bull! Robert DeNiro, Joe Pesci and Martin Scorsese carry Ms Schoonmaker up onto the stage, making for a somewhat lopsided journey. She is gracious and eloquent in her speech, and there is nothing in it that doesn't need to be there. She's a pro.

Chocolate break!

OBlogs: In which I have nothing whatsoever to do with the voting. Honest.

2010-02-11T23:09:00.000-08:00

Backstage there is a brief tussle between Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton over who is going to do the talking. As always, Liz wins, and steps out to great applause, flashing her violet eyes before presenting the award for Best Art Direction. The size of the diamond in her ring seems to be weighing her down and the end of her dress still hasn't made it onto the stage. Luckily husbands one through six are there to hold the train.

(not that sort of train)

At any rate, the nominees are:

Ben-Hur, 1959 - Chariots! Slaves! Lepers! Jesus! But in terms of art direction it's really the chariots that people focus on, most notably THE chariot race, which is still kicking the ass of action sequences in the 21st century.

Gone With the Wind, 1939 - It's BIG. Not, clearly, as big as the previous film (what is?) but sizeable, nonetheless. And quite an undertaking. It's about a spoiled young lady in the South during the Civil War. I believe there's also some fighting and whinging and burning of buildings. It's a hazy memory - I mean, four hours.

Cleopatra, 1963 - This particular film has 10 art directors. Seems somewhat overqualified for its nomination here. Anyway. Ancient Rome and Egypt, Cleopatra arrives, Cesar murdered, widow Cleopatra shacks up with his killer, things go badly, lots of death.

Titanic, 1997 - Yet another enormous film. Two star-crossed lovers meet on the ill-fated steamer Titanic, and they're just getting things together when that pesky ice berg shows up...

Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, 2003 - Can't help but notice we could've done with a little, well-decorated movie in here. But there are only five spaces and who am I to judge? Upon the showing of the film's clip, David Lean is seen to spend several minutes with his mouth hanging open.

The Sting, 1973 - Ha! An extra spot! Yes, two grifters in the jazz age of the 1930s set up the best long con ever set to ragtime music. (Awesome bit of trivia I just found: Robert Shaw's limp is completely authentic, having injured himself -- wait for it -- playing handball. Now THERE's a story in need of telling)

Burton is allowed his only line: "And the winner is..."

BEN-HUR! You've never seen so many angry art directors in a room before, sketching elaborate hang-man nooses and pointing from them to the winners, and it becomes apparent to the producers that shutting these creative and rather competitive people in a room together may not have been the best idea. Still, the crew from Ben-Hur are pretty stoked, and quite frankly at some point most everyone will acknowledge (albeit grudgingly) that they deserve it. Probably.

Everyone's had a chance to rearrange the seating plan while they wait for the train of Elizabeth Taylor's dress to disappear back stage. Poor little Haley Joel Osment is stuck between Jack Nicholson and Mickey Rourke. Terrified. Glancing frantically towards the exits.

The producers have done a little rearranging of the presenters and decided the best bet at this moment is to send out Aishwarya Rai and Sean Connery. It works, and everyone stops bickering to stare at the pretty people.

(Hello!)

The nominees for Best Cinematography are...

A Midsummernight's Dream, 1935 - Hal Mohr (turns out his main contribution was to spraypaint the trees in the film orange. Guess you had to be there. Mohr was not actually nominated, but won on account of the number of write-in campaign votes from grass-roots supporters. Somewhat awkwardly, the Academy decided they would no longer accept write-in votes after this year. Heh.)

Lawrence of Arabia, 1962 - Freddie Young (Lawrence's attempts to regain some of the Arab peoples' homeland. A tiny caption for an enormous film. The best scene being Omar Sharif's entrance, as it would be for any film Sharif is in)

Barry Lyndon, 1975 - John Alcott (one of the most innovatively shot films in movie history, and the applause for Alcott is pretty loud)

Schindler's List, 1993 - Janusz Kaminski (the decision to film in black and white meant that the crew, from costumers to art directors to cinematographers, had to re-learn everything they had learned in colour. Meanwhile Spielberg found his own shooting style by cutting back on big budget cranes and camera equipment.

Road to Perdition, 2002 - Conrad L. Hall (Goodness me! Who knew? Veteran cinematographer Hall shoots his final film in the style of an Edward Hopper painting, picking out some colours and desaturating others to evoke the depression era)

And the Fantasy Oscar goes to...

It's a TIE! ANOTHER TIE! Oh yes, this award goes to both John Alcott for Barry Lyndon and Conrad L. Hall for Road to Perdition (I swear! It just happened like that! I had nothing to do with it!). These two gentlemen get a standing ovation (why are cinematographers so much better-behaved than art directors and animators?) and they pay respects to each other in their speeches. Hall also tips his hat to Irmin Roberts, the inventor of the dolly zoom, better known as the "Vertigo effect", while Alcott thanks the directors who gave him his chances behind the camera, and especially Stanley Kubrick.

Leaving things on that happy note, it's time for a musical number. It is not Rob Lowe, and for that we are all thankful.

OBlogs: In which Chuck Norris settles everyone down

2010-02-08T03:28:00.000-08:00

As the kerfuffle over by the animators dies down, Donald O'Connor does a little fancy footwork to get our attention, while Jack Nicholson gives an ear-splitting whistle, which shuts everyone up. Here to present the award for Best Documentary Short Subject is Michael Moore. He has a few things to say about various political administrations (the Bush, Johnson, Nixon and Harding administrations feature heavily), and it's only when George C. Scott strides onto the stage to wrest the microphone out of Moore's hand that the cheers start from the audience:

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Chuck Norris has it all in hand, though, and has only to stroll across the stage to frighten Moore into submission and cause Scott to reconsider his pundit. Order is restored.

The nominees are.

Thoth!, 2001 - Sarah Kernochan (chronicling the life and performances of New York artist S.K. Thoth, who does his thing with a violin, bells and a gold loin cloth)

Kokoda Front Line!, 1942 - Australian News and Information Bureau (a camera record of the bravery and fortitude of Australian armed forces in New Guinea during the War)

If You Love this Planet, 1982 - Edward Le Lorrain and Terri Nash (a lecture on the dangers of nuclear proliferation, given at the height of the Cold War)

Donald In Mathmagic Land, 1959 - Walt Disney (yes, it's animated, but it's also a tour through the magical world of maths, given by none other than Donald Duck. It is. Fantastic.)

Chuck Norris tears open the envelope with his teeth. Hell, the envelope FALLS APART at the sight of Chuck Norris's teeth. And the winner is...

Chuck Norris! But also Kokoda Front Line! An extremely ocker speech follows, with lots of strewths, bloody hells and strike me roans! Basically, Alf Stewart thanks the Academy.

At any rate, Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon are on hand to present the award for Best Documentary Feature. With a wary eye on Chuck, who stands waiting in the wings for any unnecessary grandstanding, the two make it a classy introduction, while still outlining the importance of the documentary for shining a light on real and sometimes urgent issues.

The nominees are:

Common Threads: Stories from the Quilt, 1989 - (telling the stories of those who contributed to the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt, made as a memorial to those who have lost their lives to AIDS-related illness)

Who Are the DeBolts? And Where Did They Get Nineteen Kids?, 1977 - (ok, maybe it was put here because of the awesome title, but it's still a good tale about a couple who on top of their five biological children adopted 14 more, most of whom were disabled war orphans. And after the film was made they adopted TEN MORE. Take THAT, Angelina)
An Inconvenient Truth, 2006 - David Guggenheim (detailing the efforts of Al Gore to convey the urgency of global warming and what it means for our planet)

Taxi to the Dark Side, 2007 - Alex Gibney and Eva Orner (telling the story of a young Afghani taxi driver who was beaten to death while being held by American soldiers)

Into the Arms of Strangers: Stories of the Kindertransport, 2000 - Mark Jonathan Harris and Deborah Oppenheimer (the story of the kinderstransport, an underground railway used to save the lives of over 10,000 Jewish children during the holocaust)

And the winner is (while I pause to wonder why the HECK David Attenborough has never been nominated for this kind of thing) a TIE!! Between An Inconvenient Truth AND Taxi to the Dark Side. There is some time spent at the microphone in polite demurs as each winner asks the other to go first. Eventually, though, they thank the Fantasy Academy and those who have seen their films, noting that it is the uncomfortable (inconvenient, if you will) truths which are in most need of documentation.

Now that the Feature men and women have calmed things down, everyone takes a breather, as Chuck Norris comes back on stage to flex his muscles for the enjoyment of the crowd while Judi Dench and Morgan Freeman narrate some Chuck Norris Facts.

(my favourite is the one about the periodic table)

Quote of the day:

"It's important to rescue the frog."

Al Gore - An Inconvenient Truth

OBlogs: In which we kick things off with a fight between animators

2010-02-03T00:32:00.000-08:00

There’s nothing better than a good list, especially in the new millennium, with all that backlog to work with. And so this year I’m devoting the OBlogs to one evening in which the time/space continuum goes on a bender to allow all nominees to fight it out for the ultimate in Fantasy Oscars…

The stars gather in the auditorium, jostling for proximity to Marilyn, Katharine and Marlon (that’s Mr Brando to you, Brad, now go and sit down). John Williams is brokering a peace between Elmer Bernstein and Bernard Hermann over the rearrangement of Hermann’s Cape Fear score, while Steven Spielberg, Peter Jackson and John Ford are huddled secretly over in a corner muttering about collaboration.

Billy Crystal, Bob Hope and Donald O’Connor head towards the microphone for an (well, three) opening monologue while David Niven explains to Jerry Lewis why he can’t say those things in public. It’s time to begin.

And the nominees for Best Live Action Short Film are:

The Chicken, 1965 – Claude Berri (a family goes to buy a chicken from a farm, and the young boy is delighted with his new pet…until he finds out what his parents are planning for dinner)

Bear Country, 1953 – Walt Disney (part of Disney’s series of short nature documentaries – bears!)

Two Soldiers, 2003 – Aaron Schneider, Andrew J. Sacks (a young boy in America during WW2 tries to stop his older brother from being enlisted)

The Music Box, 1932 – Hal Roach (Laurel and Hardy try to move a piano. Hijinks ensue.)

Ray’s Male Heterosexual Dance Hall, 1987 – Jonathan Sanger, Jana Sue Memel (dance hall politics and business networking combine in a weird little take on office politics and the difficulties of dancing to the business world’s tune)

David Cronenberg gets up to present, making a joke about how he’s not short enough to present this award. Polite titters from the audience. And the winner is…

THE CHICKEN! Despite betters’ odds Berri does not accept the award wearing a chicken suit, but gives a dignified speech. The little kid is also there, and everyone awws over that for a bit. He’s still not as cute as the kid from Kolja. Walt Disney eyes Berri beadily and is heard to mutter: “we’ll see…”

Cuter!

(Before you ask, that's not Sean Connery)

Up to present Best Animated Short Film is Danny DeVito, who does not enjoy the joke the producers are making at his expense, but he’s a pro, so carries on regardless, noting that restrictions were placed on more than one nomination per filmmaker (this is clearly directed at Uncle Walt, to stop him from glaring too much at the crew from Pixar). Nominees are:

The Old Mill, 1937 – Walt Disney (a testing ground for advanced animation techniques, this film details the onslaught of violent thunderstorm on an old mill and the animals who live there)

Gerald McBoing-Boing, 1950 – Stephen Bosustow (the story of a little boy who speaks through sound effects, not words, based on a story by Dr Seuss)

The Critic, 1963 – Ernest Pintoff (Mel Brooks voices a 71-year-old and impatient movie-goer who doesn’t understand the artistic and abstract images on-screen and feels the need to convey this. Loudly)

The Wrong Trousers, 1993 – Nick Park (Wallace and his faithful, clever dog Gromit are running short of cash. Wallace invents a pair of techno-trousers, and these, with the addition of a sinister new roommate, lead to a thrilling came of dog vs penguin)

Geri’s Game, 1997 – Jan Pinkava (an elderly man plays a game of chess with himself and things get unexpectedly competitive)

Aaaand the winner is…The Old Mill! Walt leaps to his feet and yells “SUCK THAT!”, which makes his otherwise moving and gracious speech a little insincere, but he still gets a well-deserved standing ovation. It’s ok, since Nick Park and Jan Pinkava have just sketched out a caricature of Uncle Walt and are planning several parodies in which Mel Brooks plays an old man who doesn’t understand Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day.

Quote of the day:

Old Man from Russia: This is cute... This is cute... This is nice... What the hell is it?!? I know what it is! It's garbage! That's what it is! Two dollars I've paid for a French movie, for a foreign movie and I've got to see this junk...
Lady in the audience: Would you shut up?
Old Man from Russia: I'm 71. I've got the right to be loud, lady. I'm gonna die soon!

OBlogs: In which the Oscar nominations are out! (and I am sleepy)

2010-02-02T05:56:00.001-08:00

So, owing to the fact that I couldn’t get to sleep, I decided to wait up to see the Oscar nominations live. The fact that I have yet to finish my series on the “best films of the noughties” (seriously, whose idea was it to choose 50? Whose?) will not be deterring me from this year’s Omails (or Oblogs, I suppose), and as I wait rather impatiently and (let’s be honest) droopy eyed for the clock to tick over to 00:30, I realise there are many, many films that I have yet to see. Possibly all of them. What can I say, money has been tight (00:29) this year and I have not yet become a professional (i.e. paid) movie critic. BUT the Oblogs are beginning (00:32…hey, geniuses! Where the heck are the updates, man? Oh, HILARIOUS. The black screen with the rolling newsbar tells me they don’t start until 00:38), and this year I’ve decided on a new theme: the Fantasy Oscars. Ooooooh.

But you’ll have to wait to hear about that later, because, at a lazy 0039 it’s Anne Hathaway and Some Guy. Here are my reactions (you will notice that a lot of these just include a name. that’s because it’s after midnight and my typing skills just don’t care that much):

Supporting Actress: Seen none of them in action, but I’m sort of glad that Maggie Gyllenhaal is up there.

Supporting Actor: HURRAH! Christoph Waltz!

Actress: Hee. Go Meryl, I say.

Actor: Aw, Colin Firth. Also Morgan Freeman. And, if truth be told, George Clooney

Director: The usual suspects, including Tarantino, of which I am quite glad.

Original Screenplay: Tarantino again (good one) and hurrah, Pixar!

Adapted Screenplay: Nick Hornby! I’ve heard of him! Go you lovely man! Needless to say, haven’t seen any of these.

Foreign Language: I’m enjoying the fact that Anne Hathaway is giving the foreign pronounciation a go. I really like the sound of the White Ribbon…

Animated feature: Oh please, it’s going to be Up, isn’t it?

Best Picture (here come the ten):

Avatar

The Blind Side (big cheer)

District 9

Inglourious Basterds

Precious

An Education

The Hurt Locker

A Serious Man

Up (HURRAH PIXAR!)

Up in the Air

Here’s how many of those I have yet to see: 9. That’s it, we’re starting out on a 1/10 success rate this year. Sheesh.

A quick glance at the rest of the noms (which can be found on imdb.com)…HARRY POTTER! HUZZAH!!!!! (for best cinematography, if you’re wondering)…er, Star Trek is nominated for makeup, which I suppose makes sense…although I guess Avatar will be walking away with Visual Effects (sorry, District 9 and Star Trek, show’s over there)…Wallace and Gromit will be kicking ass in the Animated Short Film category, and…

HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MIRACLE FISH IS NOMINATED!!!!!! I’VE OFFICIALLY WORKED ON AN OSCAR-NOMINATED FILM!!!!

(I’m warning you now, I’ll be mentioning this in pretty much every OBlog from here on in. A girl has to take her victories…)

Well, as I plotz around the living room a bit before making my sleepy but excited way to bed, I bid you all a Merry Oscars.

Let’s get started…

In which I talk about the best films of the noughties: Volume 6

2010-01-23T01:15:00.000-08:00

2005

17. Brokeback Mountain (2005)

Two cowboys sign up for a six months sheep-guarding job on Colorado’s Brokeback Mountain. Against some of the purtiest country you’ll find, a friendship grows between them, and they fall in complicated and imperfect love. Few people are unaware of this film’s existence, but unfortunately the bullet points usually condense to “that gay cowboy movie”. But despite the bans and the fear-mongering, and the possibility of turning into something completely different, it turned out to be a beautiful and moving love story, shot through with themes of fear, denial, frustration and intolerance, directed with sensitivity and a deft hand by Ang Lee. The two main performances are some of the best I’ve seen from these actors, and while I’ve heard people complain about Heath Ledger’s decision to clench his jaw throughout the film’s entirety, I totally get this. He gives us someone so tightly wound, so defiantly tightened against his own fear of falling apart that it’s an effort to get any words out at all, let alone some honest feeling. It’s a bit diminishing to remark on how gorgeous Jake Gyllenhaal looks in this, because he also gives a fantastic performance. On the other hand…soo very pretty.

Best scene: Ennis walks up behind Jack and hugs him. Such a small gesture, so significant.

“I thought Brokeback might be around where he grew up. Knowing Jack it might be some pretend place, where bluebirds sing and there’s a whiskey spring…”

18. Good Night, and Good Luck (2005)

In which George Clooney showed the world that he is much more than just a pretty face. Depicting the time in America’s history where Senator Joe McCarthy declared war on Communists, and anyone who had ever talked to or stood next to a Communist, dismissing much in the way of the general public’s basic rights. Censorship runs rampant through the television and media industry, and it becomes increasingly difficult to speak one’s mind. Along comes 60 Minutes reporter Edward R. Murrow, who stands firm on his principles and demands something better, despite the power stacked against him. Awesome. Shot in greyscale and headlined by a show stealing performance by David Strathairn, this film struck so well with the time and place, stressing the importance of the responsibility of the media towards the public, even as technology and rising world tensions begin to eat at them.

Best scene: the showdown with Senator McCarthy.

“This instrument can teach, it can illuminate; yes, and it can even inspire. But it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it to those ends. Otherwise it is merely wires and lights in a box. Good night, and good luck"

19. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)

One of those movies I think has been criminally under-seen and under-valued, and I think the best thing I’ve seen Robert Downey Jr do. A small time crook gets caught up in the surreal world of Hollywood’s movie elite. In doing so he runs into his highschool sweetheart, becomes embroiled in a murder mystery and annoys the heck out of private detective Perry “Gay Perry” White (Val Kilmer, who has honestly never been more awesome). With an old school charm It moves from joke to joke without waiting for – or pandering to – the audience and lets Robert Downey do his natural best. With a self-confessed imperfect narration from Downey’s character, this movie pokes as much fun at itself as it does the superficial world in which it was made.

Best scene: Harry and Perry try their best to get rid of a body someone has planted in Harry’s apartment. This is made more difficult when Harry accidentally pees on the body.

“I peed on the corpse. Can they do, like, an ID from that?
“I’m sorry, you peed on–?”
“On the corpse, and my question is–”
“No, my question. I get to go first. Why in pluperfect hell would you pee on a corpse?”

20. Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (2005)

It was the thing all Nick Park fans had been waiting for. Wallace and Gromit, in feature length form. The world’s most expressively-faced dog and his human are in the pest control business – preventing rabbits and other nibbly creatures (mostly rabbits) from ruining the town’s vegetables before the big vegetable competition and fair. But something sinister is foiling Anti-Pesto’s attempts to keep the village pest-free. Something large and rabbit-shaped. A were-rabbit, to be exact. It’s also possible that Wallace may have caused this anomaly by playing with mind control experiments on the rabbits. And so the race is on to save the vegetables and win the “lovely” Lady Tottington’s heart. It’s completely brilliant. I just don’t understand people who don’t love this kind of thing.

Best scene: Gromit attempts to “lure” the were-rabbit by means of an enormous female rabbit costume doing a suggestive dance.

“Cheeeeeeeeeese.” (If Gromit ever talked, all the best lines would come from him)

21. Batman Begins (2005)

Just when it seemed they had milked the Batman franchise for all it was worth, Christopher Nolan came along and said, “What if we did it without the camp?” It was just crazy enough to work. Starting again from scratch, this one took Bruce Wayne’s transformation into Batman seriously (and, let’s face it, of all the superheroes Batman is probably the most plausible: no special powers, no super-human strength, just a bucketload of money). After learning all he can about super-cool fighting moves in the hills of Tibet at the hands of Liam Neeson and deciding just what kind of badass he wants to be, Bruce travels back to Gotham to turn this city around. And the best was yet to come…

Best scene: most of the ones with Alfred in them, so maybe the scene where Alfred saves Bruce from a burning building.

“What was the point of all those push-ups if you can’t even lift a bloody log?”

22. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005)

Remakes did surprisingly well this year. While I grew up with the BBC versions (damn good they were, too, despite lack of special effects), it was quite exciting to see these given another go. Beginning with the 1940 bombing of London and the evacuation of children (this event actually inspired a large number of stories to be written for children, many of them focusing on magic), four in particular. Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy are sent to the country to live with Professor Kirke, whose house holds a very unusual wardrobe. As Lucy, the youngest, finds her way into the magical land of Narnia she meets Mr Tumnus the faun (the beautiful James McAvoy, as you’ve never seen him), and from then on it’s all White Witches and really awesome beavers and lions and…can you tell this was one of my favourite books growing up? The filmmakers, in a brilliant move, decide to downplay the religious connotations and focus on what is an awesome story. Tilda Swinton demands special mention as a quietly evil White Witch, as do all the children. The tiny touches get me – like the dying bluebottle on the windowsill or Mr Tumnus’s umbrella… This film gives such depth to the four young characters and creates some truly exciting battle scenes. Just hang on and go “wheeeeee!”
Best scene: there’s much to like, but the final battle is pretty damn awesome, including, in particular the arrival of the White Witch, resplendent with golden mane.

“Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen.”

In which I talk about the best films of the noughties: Volume 5

2009-12-19T21:32:00.001-08:00

2004

15. Finding Neverland (2004)

J. M. Barrie strives to write a play he feels is worthy of going to see, one that will strike people on a personal level and capture their imaginations, allow them to escape from the world for a night. Barrie himself prefers the childlike enthusiasm of his own imagination, a fact which is putting a strain on his marriage, but which leads to a friendship with a family of boys and their widowed mother. His friendship with these children is viewed critically by a rigid society, and the themes of everlasting youth in his play seem to parallel Barrie’s determination to hold onto innocence and enjoyment in his own life. The reason I like this film so much is that it explores the fun that is to be found if you allow yourself to be drawn into a story, even a fantasy – to leave behind cynicism and just enjoy. Kate Winslet is beautifully tragic as Sylvia Llewellyn-Davies, and I always enjoy watching Mr Depp. Little Freddie Highmore can break your heart, and I defy anyone to not well up at least a little when the children of Great Ormond Street Hospital enter the theatre to help the grown ups enjoy and understand Peter Pan.

Best scene: the play performed in the parlour for Sylvia.

“What a horrible, candle-snuffing word. That’s like saying, ‘He can’t climb that mountain. He’s just a man’, or ‘That’s not a diamond, it’s just a rock’. Just.”

2. Shaun of the Dead (2004)

Shaun is a regular guy trying to sort out his life. His girlfriend has dumped him, he doesn’t get along with his stepfather, and his best friend is a largely sedentary former schoolmate who hasn’t quite adapted into adulthood. On top of which, the dead are coming back to life as zombies and roaming the Earth. Just one of those days… My love for Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright knows few bounds, and their sense of humour is what gets this film into the top 50. That, and the fact that all the performers play it absolutely straight, with the ridiculousness of their surroundings only enhancing the comedy. This is the first in Pegg and Wright’s Blood and Ice Cream trilogy. An excellent beginning.

Best scene: battling zombies in time to Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now”. Genius.

“How’s that for a slice of fried gold?”

In which I talk about the best films of the noughties: Volume 4

2009-12-18T18:53:00.001-08:00

2003

13. Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)

All right, here’s the last one. Two little hobbits make their way through the perils of Mordor to destroy the One Ring. The rest of the fellowship spends the movie kicking ass, lighting fires and generally being awesome. And Gollum, well, Gollum is awesome in his own, evil way. It occurs to me that my review of these films has been mostly subjective, but still, I loved this last instalment. There is so much contained in this movie: battle at Pelennor Fields (horses, horses, horses), the oliphants, Shelob vs Sam, the lighting of the beacons and that gorgeous, final battle, where Viggo Mortensen just makes me cry. Jackson and his team structured the climactic film with such enthusiasm and attention to detail that it was clear it was being made by fans as well as filmmakers, and this is reflected in the script as much as in the visual components. Difficult to say which is my favourite part, and I can’t even single out a performance without feeling like I’m omitting another…

Best scene: (it changes every few minutes, so right now we’ll say) the destruction of the One Ring.

“I’m glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things.”

14. Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)

The idea of a movie based on a theme park ride had me seriously questioning Johnny Depp’s decision making abilities. Obviously, he knew more than anyone else, and turned out to be the best thing about this film. Not only that, but he gave us one of the best character turns of the decade. Famously, this is attributed almost entirely to Mr Depp, who came up with the costume, makeup and general air of…oddness…that surrounds Jack Sparrow, all by himself. This is a fantastic rendering of a good old adventure film, some of the best fun you can have at the movies. Supporting characters cannot be dismissed, especially in the form of Geoffrey Rush, a giant of an actor who looks as though he’s having the time of his life. This movie would not have been half as good if not for the performances, and in an action film, that’s saying something.

Best scene: any scene, really, featuring Johnny Depp.

“Me, I’m dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly, it’s the honest ones you want to watch out for.”

In which I talk about the best films of the noughties: Volume 3

2009-12-14T22:39:00.001-08:00

2002

8. Road To Perdition (2002)

In America’s depression-era 1930s, a hit man is thrown into a life on the run from his own “family” (oh yes, “family” in that sense of the word) when his son witnesses him and a colleague carrying out an assassination. I can understand when people remark that this is such a cold-looking film, and yet there is so much beauty in almost every aspect: the performances, the visual component, the score, the underrunning theme of death and menace as characters attempt to claw their way out of hell, even as they approach Perdition. Every single thing contributes to the story. I love the cinematography most of all: Daniel Craig’s introduction, the road to Chicago, the reading room, the freaking bead of sweat, the rain…oh my lord, the rain. Just incredible. In the commentary the director refers to a quote by Alfred Hitchcock, advising filmmakers to “treat your love scenes like murders and your murders like love scenes”. If you’ve seen the shootout in the rain, you’ll know what that means to Sam Mendes.

Best scene: the rain soaked street.

“Open your eyes! This is the life we chose, the life we lead! And there is only one guarantee: none of us will see heaven.”

9. Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

Yes, you’re going to have to read two more of these. So two of the hobbits continue on their way to destroy the One Ring. The man, the elf, the dwarf and the wizard go off to defend the world of men against a rising evil, and the remaining hobbits discover the world of Ents. They’d have to have been nervous with this one. Nothing like pressure. Here the writers managed to construct a solid film out of what would have been the most difficult of the three to adapt. The second instalment might not have had the wide-eyed magic of the first or the urgency and sheer size of the third, but what it did have was a new and improved Gandalf, an incredibly well-directed battle, and Gollum. In many ways this movie belonged to one character, one scene.

Best scene: the taming of Smeagol.

“We wants it. We needs it. Must have the precious. They stole it from us. Sneaky little hobbitses. Wicked. Tricksy. False!”
“No, not master!”
“Yes, precious. False. They will cheat you, hurt you, lie!”
“Master is our friend!”
“You don’t have any friends! Nobody likes you!”
“I’m not listening! Not listening!”
“You’re a liar. And a thief!”
“Nope!”
“Muuuuuurderer…”

10. The Pianist (2002)

A film that you really shouldn’t go to see by yourself. Live and learn. The most powerful holocaust film since Schindler’s List, this was a harrowing, inside look at the life of Wladyslaw Szpilman, a Jewish-Polish and celebrated pianist. As the world around him descends into the anti-Semitism of a world at war, he finds his very identity decaying as violence and sadism is inflicted on the Jewish people with increasing blatancy. We are taken right inside the ghetto, into the horror. The lengths he goes to in order to survive (this is not a spoiler – the movie is based on this guy’s autobiography) are detailed across the rest of the film. It digs into your very core, this film. Brody is fairly astonishing, and Polanski’s direction – whatever you think of him personally – is masterful. Around this time I heard a reviewer lament that this was “yet another” holocaust film. I think it’s something we need to remember.

Best scene: the encounter with the grand piano: Szpilman’s hands hover with agony above the keys, unable to play for fear of discovery.

“It’s an official decree. No Jews allowed in the parks.”
“Are you joking?”
“No, I’m not. I would suggest we sit down on a bench, but that’s also an official decree. No Jews allowed on the benches.”
“This is absurd!”
“So, we should just stand here and talk. I don’t think we’re not allowed to do that.”

11. Chicago (2002)

Roxie Hart wants to be a star, and when she murders her lover she gets the chance, in the form of the Jazz Age’s best lawyer, Billy Flynn, who knows that the whole justice system is just a three-ring circus: you only have to know how to play. I’ve never been quite easy with Renee Zellweger, but frankly Catherine Zeta Jones and Richard Gere make up for that. Zeta-Jones has never had so much energy, nor so much room to use it, and Gere’s tap dance is one of my favourite cinematic moments. John C. Reilly and Queen Latifah give similarly awesome performances, and it’s difficult to believe that this was director Rob Marshall’s first feature film. The transitions to song and creativity in set pieces are inspired, and other than that it’s just plain fun to watch and engage in.

Best scene: the tap dance.

“They’d love you a lot more if you were hanged. You know why? Because it would sell more papers. That’s Chicago.”

12. Far From Heaven (2002)

In 1950s America, a white woman begins a friendship with a black gardener, while her husband has his own issues to deal with. Both these events will trouble the waters of the picture-perfect, polite society world. This film goes a lot deeper than it at first seems to. On the surface it’s an homage to the golden age of Hollywood: the long, sweeping establishing shots, the orchestral surges and figures through the fog… And that part is lovely. But it’s also a closer look at the feelings and dissatisfactions that bubble under the surface of this All-American couple, and how these are rendered cinematically. The colour palette idea is a nice one – each scene’s lighting, costumes and sets are coloured to depict a particular message or undercurrent. What’s really interesting by the end is what transgressions are forgiven by society and what transgressions are not. It’s technically fascinating.

Best scene: I’m not too sure why, but the part where her scarf flies over the house…beautiful.

“That was the day I stopped believing in the wild ardour of things. Perhaps in love, as well. That kind of love. The love in books and films. The love that tells us to abandon our lives and plans, all for one brief touch of Venus.”

In which I talk about the best films of the noughties: Volume 2

2009-12-05T23:14:00.000-08:00

2001

3. Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

Hurrah! No, I don’t care that some people have decided not to like this anymore, or whatever, my love is true and loyal, and this movie rocks. Number one in the trilogy introduces those of us who had not yet managed to get through the monolith that is Tolkien’s novel to four of the cutest hobbits you ever did see, a very pretty elf, a robust dwarf and two of the toughest men you’ll ever see. I could (clearly) go on about this for ages, so what’s my favourite part? Hobbiton. The greenness and lushness and the fact that they got Bag End EXACTLY right. It’s a huge production, but every little detail is fantastic.

Best scene: Ian McKellen’s – sorry, Gandalf’s – entry into Hobbiton.

“Before you came along we Bagginses were very well thought of.”
“Indeed?”
“Never had any adventures or did anything unexpected.”
“If you’re referring to the incident with the dragon, I was barely involved.”

4. Gosford Park (2001)

A hunting party of well-to-dos arrives at a country estate for a weekend, attended by their many servants. In the night, someone is murdered. Everyone's a suspect! This is one of the most underrated films of the decade, has a remarkably elegant script and a cast to die for. It also has some very skilled direction going on – many different conversations going on simultaneously while the camera drifts in and out of each. One might be mistaken in thinking Gosford Park is a quiet film, but the truth is there are cacophonies of subtext in every line. Helen Mirren kicks ASS and Maggie Smith has some delicious lines, but there seriously isn’t a dud in the whole production.

Best scene: Helen Mirren’s final conversation with Kelly Macdonald.

“What gift do you think a good servant has that separates them from the others? It’s the gift of anticipation. And I’m a good servant. I’m better than good. I’m the best. I’m the perfect servant. I know when they’ll be hungry and the food is ready. I know when they’ll be tired and the bed is turned down. I know it before they know it themselves.”

5. Amelie (2001)

I totally almost forgot this one (had to get rid of Casino Royale)! The thing about Amelie, though, is that it is as fascinating from a filmmaking standpoint as it is from that of story: French waitress Amelie sets out to improve the lives of strangers, friends and relatives, seeking magic and mystery in a modern world. The colours are saturated and generally keep to rich reds, greens and yellows, giving the viewer an insight into Amelie’s character from note one – here is someone determined to see something extraordinary in the everyday. The humour is quick and the quirks sincere – the lightning-fast insights into the lives of passing characters manage to give the audience a city full of rounded, real people. Amelie’s slow-burn of self awareness is touching and only serves to highlight the effort it takes her to get to her final scene.

Best scene: skipping stones on the Canal St. Martin, in one of the film’s most beautiful shots.

“Amelie is a shy young woman with a taste for all life’s small pleasures: immersing one’s hand in a sack of grain, cracking the top of a crème brulee with the back of a teaspoon…or skipping stones on the Canal St. Martin…”

6. The Others (2001)

Speaking of underrated, I think this film has more to offer than it might at first seem. A Kelly-like Kidman is the mother of two in a large, empty house, waiting for her husband to return from the war. Slowly, things emerge in the ever-present shadows, and it becomes clear that someone – some others – are listening. There is a real eeriness to the film, with the great house on the hill surrounded by fog and not another sound in earshot. Nicole Kidman and her two creepy pale-faced children are fragile and very good as the tension builds between the light, the dark and the mist. Nice and atmospheric.

Best scene: the old woman and the little girl. if you have seen it you’ll know what I mean.

“I’m beginning to feel totally cut off from the world…”

7. Moulin Rouge! (2001)

Two star-crossed lovers steal moments together as they prepare for a performance spectacular, amid suspicious rivals and deadly consequences. It’s Romeo and Juliet, with music! And prostitutes! I love the enthusiasm of the exclamation point in the title. But this movie is mainly here for its sheer ballsiness – it’s so operatic, all colour and movement and mash-ups of songs you wouldn’t expect to find in gaye paree, but somehow after a few minutes it just WORKS. There are parts that I like more than others, but I think my favourite performance is El Tango de Roxanne. Moulin Rouge! just reinvented the musical for the new millennium.

Best scene: ‘your song’.

“Above all things I believe in love. Love is like oxygen. Love is a many-splendored thing. Love lifts us up where we belong – all you need is love!”

In which I talk about the best films of the noughties: Volume 1

2009-12-05T01:40:00.000-08:00

A little introduction...

I've come across many a list lately about the best films of the decade from 2000 - 2009, and quite frankly, I'm sick of them being filled with movies I don't like. The logical step seems to be to make my own list of the 50 best films that I've seen over the last decade. There are, naturally, problems:

1) I haven't seen all the films, ok, and that's why you won't find "Up" on this list, among others.

2) This is an opinion piece. These are MY favourite films. I shall attempt to describe why I like them so much, but I'm not asking for a dissertation about why Kill Bill should be on here. Mostly because I haven't seen it. If it's not on the list, in fact, just assume I haven't seen it. I would, however, LOVE any recommendations.

3) Some decades seem to have a lot fewer candidates than others. I can't explain it, and quite frankly I don't know what I was doing in those years, movie-wise. Hmm.

2000

1. Best In Show (2000)

This is Christopher Guest’s best mockumentary, possibly helped by all the puppies. Five dogs compete for the title of Best In Show at the Mayflower Dog Show in Philadelphia, while the audience is invited to judge the behaviour of their owners. Each dog is matched with an appropriate owner (the uptight yuppies own a high-maintenance weimaraner, the poodle belongs with the upper-upper-class), but as Guest just lets his actors run with their dialogue, true neuroses and characters are revealed. The documentary style works perfectly along with the parody, and the performances are spot on (Parker Posey, Michael Hitchcock and John Michael Higgins in particular).

Best scene: the yuppies detail how they met.

"We met at Starbucks. Not at the same Starbucks but we saw each other at different Starbucks across the street from each other."

2. The Dish (2000)

Doing what the Australian film industry has the capacity to do best, this quiet little movie has a great big heart. Telling the story of the first moon landing from the antipodeans’ standpoint, four men strive to bring the photographs to the world while trying to sort out their own problems – high winds, power blackouts and not letting anyone realise that they’ve lost Apollo 11. These writers are experts at creating beautiful and endearing characters, especially of the small-town variety.

Best scene: Glenn demonstrates how satellites work, using a basketball.

"Imagine the earth is a basketball."

"This'll be good."

"And on top of the basketball there's...what's the name of the thing you put the pump into?"

"A hole."

"Yeah, but it's got a name."

"The valve?"

"The valve! Imagine on top there's a valve, and on the bottom there's another valve, and..."

"You know, basketballs only have one valve, Glenn."

"Well, what's something that's got two valves?"

"Tuba?"

"It's gotta be round."

"Tambourine?"

"That doesn't have valves!"

"Coconut!"

In which I am back after a long absence

2009-12-04T03:47:00.000-08:00

It's been quite a hiatus. In between this post and the last, I have been knuckling down to participate in NaNoWriMo, and in the end reached exactly 50,000 words. Hurrah! Merry Nano to me!

I was quite proud, actually. I'd begun without much of a premise and with less conviction that I would be able to finish, but somewhere around the middle I really began to get into it, and had the pleasant experience of being completely surprised by my characters and their actions. Sure, I had to play with reality a little (it turns out legs from which feet have been amputated take AGES to get to the point where they can be used again), but I like where it ended up.

Today I read the delightful news that Leonardo DiCaprio is going to be giving his voice to an animated film - hurrah! I don't know too much about it yet, but it's going to be called The Guardians and he's playing Jack Frost. Oh HELL yes.

As you may have figured out, I'm filling up with the Christmas Spirit (sounds vaguely dirty, but we'll ignore that, shall we?) and all the childlike enthusiasm that comes with it. Sparkly things are like catnip right now, and I find myself richocheting from glittery object to glittery object like a ping pong ball. I'm about halfway through my shopping, and surprisingly optimistic about getting it all done in time!

What else...?

Oh yes, I've been coming across a lot of blogs lately summing up the "noughties" with regard to film. So instead of rolling my eyes at the inclusion of yet ANOTHER Pedro Amaldovar movie, I thought I'd give it a go...of course I'm going to have to actually come up with something...fifty? Have I seen that many movies this decade? Probably.

At any rate - coming soon!

In which I am hungry.

2009-10-24T00:33:00.000-07:00

Well, it's dinner time and I find myself in a house with no food (none belonging to me and of the dinnertime persuasion, anyway). This is, of course, due ot a complete lack of foresight on my part, but this self-awareness ain't going to fill my tummy. And so it looks like I'm having a can of soup and possibly some pasta. Mmm. There are some bits of salt and pepper squid in the freezer, but I'm a little concerned about how good for me deep frying is. Anyone want to weigh in?

Soup. It's what's for dinner.

Tomorrow I have to go on the unappealing search for undergarments that I can wear with very particular outergarments without said undergarments being immediately noticable. Sigh. When did getting dressed require so much effort? I am not expecting much success, especially in light of recent bad moods.

But as the Mr Whippy van finally decides there are no more kids on this street and moves on, I hear the jug has boiled, so it's time to whip up some culinary brilliance. Then I'm going to tempt fate by watching "What Lies Beneath". Before bedtime, no less.

In which I am making headway into becoming a grumpy old woman

2009-10-23T00:49:00.000-07:00

Nothing like a rant to get the blogging mind back on track.

Today I'm complaining about the growing trend that seems to permeate film, and in fact is not that recent a trend, when I think about it. What it is, is the idea that it doesn't matter if the guy is tubby, short, hairy, or generally not that attractive, but the GIRL has no option but to be hot. No questions.

I don't know if I'd feel better about things if the guy were also required to be hot. Or whether, if they were both ordinary looking, I'd feel as though a victory had been won. All I know is that the current state of things irks me. The girls are required to look deeper to find true beauty, but the guys are allowed to do what they like. Have I put too much thought into this?

Well, possibly. And yet, I felt it necessary to put in a blog. I suppose it's something that seems to have bled into my life, lately.

Meanwhile, the other night I saw The Box. If I had ever seen Donnie Darko, I probably would've been more prepared (same director), but I haven't, so I wasn't. (Side note: before the screening the MC said "I'm guessing there isn't a single one of you who hasn't seen Donnie Darko", followed by laughter from the audience, like la di frickin DA, nerdlingers.) The first part of the premise was REALLY well done -- the moment when the button is pressed (because you know there's no movie without that happening, but you still don't want it to happen) was gasp-inducing. Anyway, it was all very tense and quiet and suspenseful.....and then it went a little odd. Like, paranormal odd. Like zombie vessels with nosebleeds, odd. I suppose it raised some interesting questions, but I would have preferred a little less of the paranormal, I think. I mean, SOME, sure, but I think there was a more interesting story in the bare bones of the premise that didn't need the hoo-ha.

Last night, after a soul-crushing night in which I discovered that people I've known for half the year as part of my dance class don't actually know my name, I missed my connecting bus and ended stranded in the middle of a major road with no taxis in sight. This is what I don't like about Point B - its transport system leaves a LOT to be desired. Anyway, what followed was a 40minute walk home alone at 11pm, with many a run-in with cobwebs and bitey insects. Needless to say I wasn't feeling my best when I finally made it in the door, and lay on the floor for some time watching Glee. Unfortunately, even this excellent show (I'll have to express my love for it some other day) failed to lift me out of my mood, hence today's grumpy blog.

Grumpily yours,
O

Random story #1

2009-10-05T02:24:00.000-07:00

There are three golf balls on the moon.

The first was a practice hit, or so Neil had attested. This may have had something to do with the fact that it lay embarrassingly close to its original position, half-buried in the fine granules of moon-dust not far from the footprints the first lunar module left behind. The moon had felt the shift in its surface makeup, lightly, like an itch, or a fly landing on a person's cheek. It had recognised the extra mass of the golf ball, too, and in the end had accepted it with the philosophy of one who has witnessed a larger scope than could be disrupted by a mere golf ball. It appreciated the similarities, though, of the pock-marked orb that now made up part of its mass.

The second had been a hole in one, or close to. Few knew that several minutes of the first lunar landing had been spent arguing over the legitimacy of that shot. It now lay against the flag pole, next to a slightly incriminating footprint that suggested it had been nudged at some point out of its actual landing.

The third ball had rebounded directly off the pole, the result of a misunderstanding of the nature of the atmosphere. It had driven into a rocky area, where the relaunch of the lunar module had knocked a fragment of rock into a slow lob. Eventually, it had made contact with the ball, ricocheting off the latter and knocking it into a rocky gutter. The ball tipped, tripped, rapped and rattled through the low-gravity atmosphere, gaining momentum with each sluggish arc. It was surprised by its own progress; looking back it saw the earth-rise, upwards the diminishing speck of light that came from the engines of the lunar module as it powered upward, leaving the golf ball to its own devices. Abandoning, even, to an environment too ancient to even fathom its existence.

Eventually, of course, the ball would come to a stop, and the moon's orbit would continue on and on into each new space, taking with it the three new additions to itself.

In which it is Friday.

2009-09-04T04:23:00.000-07:00

At the moment I'm watching Frost/Nixon, and I'm very pleased with the investment. Frank Langella is a god. Also he makes me want to give him a really big hug.

Today I finished up work with a tremendous sense of relief. Yes, I still have work to do over the weekend, but there is nothing like the feeling of easing off your shoes at the end of a day's hard work, sitting down on the floor and leaning back against the couch and just...breathing. The air is growing warmer, sweeter, and while I could really do with a great big thunderstorm, I'll take this balmly weather for now. Ahhhh.

Saw Inglourious Basterds the other day. It's the first Tarantino film I've ever seen, and I have to say...I was marvellously impressed. It was just...mesmerising. There were parts that I didn't like at all, to be sure (not all that interested in the bludgeoning of heads with a baseball bat), but for the most part...it's constructed in the most intriguing way - five or six really long scenes that are beautifully crafted, or at least fascinatingly creative, fraught with an impressive amount of tension and some truly wonderful acting. Christoph Waltz is indescribably good - difficult to keep your eyes off him, and I'm totally picking him for an Oscar nom, if not a favourite to win for Supporting Actor in 2010.

Now THAT's a pipe.

I understand Tarantino has a penchant and a reputation for violence in film, and it's carried over here, but overlooking that there is some great enthusiasm for filmmaking in his work. I'm quite pleasantly surprised. Not sure I'm going to go out and watch Kill Bill, but...

In which I spend a little while reveling in the Potterverse

2009-07-27T02:46:00.000-07:00

I would like to begin by saying this: I want a t-shirt that says "I'm what Willis was talkin' 'bout".

Meanwhile...I'm cooking a casserole. It's been in the oven for about 1.5 hours, and I'm STARVING, although possibly also curious to see whether it'll work. It has meat and mushrooms and carrot and onion and parsley and thyme. Lots of thyme. I may have gotten carried away.

I saw the latest Harry Potter movie the other day (for those keeping score, The Half-Blood Prince), and I am smitten, as I always seem to be by this series. I love it. O, how I love it. Almost for its own sake, and it seems to have been made just for me! Meeee! Anyway, As a result I've dived (diven?) back into the books, and spent much of today pleasurably ensconced in the Potterverse. It's the vividness of the world that I love. A perfectly wonderful excuse to abandon reality in favour of something a little more magical.

Awesome.

In which I cut New Hollywood some slack

2009-07-08T02:36:00.000-07:00

I've been asked to elaborate on the Old v New Hollywood battle, and I suppose it's largely interpretive (in my mind, a 50-ft glamour-queen in an elegant, feather-trimmed gown is blithely slapping a scrawny midriff-baring, thigh-high boots-wearing teen with too much eye makeup and a vacant expression. Take that! And that!). I'm sure - in fact I know - that studios back in the day could be just as money-focused and story-indifferent as they are these days...but perhaps because there is so much more money floating around nowadays, it seems worse. Changing the ends of film adaptations in order to avoid a downer, casting the studio darling instead of the person who would have looked the part...oh, and remaking films that don't need remaking, just because you're sure they'll make you money, without caring about whether they are bringing anything significant to the world....

SIGH.

Maybe it all comes down to money - less chances back then to have a flop? Are there more classics to come out of Old Hollywood? Look at To Kill a Mockingbird, The Philadelphia Story, 12 Angry Men, It Happened One Night, Rear Window and Roman Holiday...they're not perfect films, certainly not from a technical standpoint, but there is more art in those films, and in the way that they do the best with what they've got to create magic.

But here are a few movies that I think have really gone for it with art.

Firstly, and obviously to anyone who has talked to me about films, is Road to Perdition. A gangster movie about family, regret, fear, consequences, but it's so much more. Some of the best Cinematography I've ever seen (by the late Conrad L. Hall) - I mean, there's the most awesome shot of someone smoking a cigarette that I've ever seen, some amazing, telling fades and transitions, and man, there's this scene in the rain, and JAYZUS, it's indescribably beautiful. So there's that. But there's also the Colours - muted, browns, greens, whites, greys, cautiously, tentatively lightening as our protagonists travel through the film, and the white, white sands of the beach at Perdition. And the Music. It just - oh, it just WORKS. It means something.

Also I prefer this poster to the one that happened later (one of those "big faces of the stars over what would have otherwise been quite a moving poster" posters).

Hmm. Quite liking this topic. Now what else...

In which Old Hollywood kicks the CRAP out of New Hollywood

2009-07-06T03:59:00.000-07:00

So let me tell you about the movies I've watched recently.

On Saturday, as previously stated, I watched All About Eve, starring Bette Davis and her infamous eyes. This is the story of a great but aging stage actress who meets "her biggest fan", Eve, a meek, sweet-looking girl from Wisconsin (the cheese state) who has seen every performance she's ever done and can you see where this is going? Oh yes, it's the old young-meek-fan-turns-psycho story. Quite chilling, although not as much as it could have been with a different soundtrack. This is where John Williams kicked ass - the music. Ms Davis was quite wonderful in what would become her defining role, really, and I sincerely despised Eve, so I suppose well done to her as well. It's funny, this period in time was one with a lot less in the way of rights for women than now, but I find a lot more to admire in a woman who doesn't need to put a man down in order to stand equally with him. I'm not sure exactly what my point is here, I'm just more impressed with Bette Davis than I am with the cast of Sex and the City.

Incidentally, the number of Oscar Best Picture winners I've seen has reached 46. 34 to go!

Today I saw Inherit the Wind starring Spencer Tracy, Gene Kelly, and that guy who played Col. Potter in M*A*S*H. The fictionalised (which it turns out means something like "same story, different names") story of the Scopes "Monkey" Trial, where a teacher was arrested for teaching Darwin's Theory of Evolution, or, more specifically, for teaching a science that contradicted the idea of divine creation. The film itself was quite intriguing, and a heck of a decent performance from Mr Tracy, and a fine performance from Mr Kelly (excuse me while I amuse myself with the fact that these two people have feminine last-names). Also, apparently, the play on which this film was based was written as a way of criticising the witch-hunts during the McCarthy era, but without being - y'know - arrested for criticising said witch-hunts. Good lord.

Continuing the theme of persecution, I also saw Milk this weekend, and I must say, very well done. Sean Penn, it will not surprise you (or at least those of you who like Mr Penn) was much-deserving of his Oscar for this role, and the whole telling of the story was really, really nice. Shot almost like a documentary, which gave it a sense of realism, and helped, I think, sidestep any over-sentimentality that could have happened. Weirdly enough, the director, Gus Van Sant, is scheduled to make another film based on the same story, called The Mayor of Castro Street, in 2012.

Hollywood is weird.

And while we're on the subject, it turns out that the excellent British film Death At A Funeral, released in 2007, is already being REMADE in America, with American actors and an American script. I find it difficult to express how stupid I find this.

Hollywood is also stupid.

But not always (see previous films). And when I return to the "classics" section of the video store, I'm diving back into the Awesomeness of Old Hollywood.

In which I had an excellent Saturday

2009-07-04T19:03:00.000-07:00

Back, having taken a leave of absence to regain some optimism. There are going to be a lot of photos in this one, too, since I've just discovered the little memory disk drive on my computer.

Yesterday I decided to test out a previously injured foot by taking to the park and enjoying the unseasonal sunshine. It was glorious. Ducklings on the water, fluffy grey teenage swans noodling unconcernedly at the grass by the path, dogs and their owners, horses and their riders trotting past - even the joggers didn't annoy me. The sun shone down brightly through the dappling leaves and the wind, while chill, was fresh. I was caught up in the jollification and good humour of it all, and it felt wonderful to be out there. After greeting a westie and his sweet-natured greyhound friend, my foot was giving signals that it was about time to head back, and so I did.

The outdoorsyness was clearly infectious, and after a quick shower I headed out again to a pretty bay where blue and green water lapped at the sandy beach, and a particularly creative four year old sereneded the visitors with a song of his own making: "putting that o-ver therrrrrre, putting this on top, that's how we go, that's how we go, where's the baby? Who's got the baby? Make a little castle, where's the baby gone?"

Incidentally, we never found out where the baby went.

Following that, made the trek up along the cliffside near the ocean, enjoying as I always do the way the water turns turquoise where it breaks on the rocks, and the general feeling of freedom you get when you look out at the open ocean. I've always liked the ocean better than the beach (mostly to do with the amount of sand that I seem to bring home after a day on the dunes) and I think this feeling is part of the reason. The wind picked up as I climbed higher and vied with the warmish sun for control of the climate. Wild rosemary, Christmas bells, delicious-looking berries (it's because they're so red. And juicy-looking. Don't worry, I didn't succumb to temptation) decked the paths all the way to the top of the cliffs, and pockmarked rocks cropped out over the water, where the rain and the ocean spray have sculpted the landscape. And so while I got to know the macro settings of my camera (not all that well, I suspect), the day complied by offering good light, and the wind screwed with my only recently-straightened hair.

Capped off with a hot meal and a screening of All About Eve, and I have to say, there's no one like Bette Davis around anymore.

A very good day.

In which I am grateful

2009-05-21T02:02:00.001-07:00

Well it's high time that I stopped whinging to the web-ular world at large. The problem, naturally, is that I don't have enough interesting things going on right at this moment to divert to anything really positive.

Here are things I'm feeling VERY grateful for at the moment:

One: Lovely, blustery autumnal days (oh yes, we're talking about the weather). There are a lot of trees around the balcony, and it looks fantastic with the wind buffeting the branches this way and that and tearing at the leaves...goodness, it all just brings out the poet in me. Whether that poet is any good is difficult to say...

Two: Having someone in the universe to whom you can send a discreet, venting text message to convey your irritation at being surrounded by completely inane conversation. You know, when you're in a conversation that's not so much a conversation as it is a lecture, and the lecture is on things that you really don't agree with. But having somewhere someone who gets your frustration is a real saving-grace.

Three: Having a flatmate who doesn't get mad when you call her, slightly panicked, from a taxi at 10:30 saying "um...just saying hi" because the taxi driver is "lost" and keeps going down dark suburban streets instead of towards home. Not exactly graceful under pressure, but there you go.

Four: Coco Loco Mocha Chillers. My latest thing is going into a bookshop with a cafe, getting a coffee and reading a book that I have no intention of buying. I love this new routine, but feel a bit bad. Are they going to kick me out for this? I'd have to find a new coffee shop, which is a disturbing thought. I like this coffee place. It's a franchise, mass produced, and delicious. Viva capitalism! At least in the form of coffee-shops-in-book-shops.

In which I've been meditating, unintelligibly.

2009-05-17T00:41:00.000-07:00

Back again, and feeling more optimistic than I was earlier in the week. But right now, with a belly full of apple juice and feet just gone around the park, I'm feeling the endorphins, baby. Oh yes.

I've been meditating lately on the idea of expectation. People can expect with aggression, judgement, or even unmaliciously, but it still grates. What do they expect? A lunch companion can ask "are you going to eat all of that?" and the word "all" is given italics. Someone can expect you to be more upset than you are and instead of adapting their reaction, keep carrying on as if you're being unreasonably emotional. A conversation can hint at expectations of how you should react to an incident, and secondly can hint that any other reaction is stupid and ignorant, and not, to put it bluntly, the thing that is done in modern society. It doesn't seem an old fashioned thing to expect, but it is. Leather for lace.

I don't think I made much sense up there. Bottom line, I think expectation is one of my least favourite things when imposed on others. Or to put it this way, I don't like being expected to behave in a certain way, and judged when I fail to meet said expectations. Hmm.

Moving on! I've finished another knitting project, and it's ok. It was supposed to be something of an oversized slouchy cap, but in my grand tradition of cap-knitting, it's smaller. Thankfully, where a normal cap would now be too small, this oversize cap is now pretty much the right size for my head. Has a pleasing spiral pattern (observe)

which worked better than I thought it would, especially considering I fudged the instructions from the beginning, since the wool I used was much thicker than the one in the pattern. Anyway, there it is.

Tonight I am eating spaghetti bolognaise (and no, we shall not be shortening it to the odious "spag bol"), which is one of my favourite meals. Hurrah!

In which I just did some exercise!

2009-05-11T23:43:00.000-07:00

Today I traversed around Point B's major park, employing an exercise technique suggested to me by a friend: run 100 steps, walk 100 steps. Yikes. I made it half way using this method, before an old injury started to seize up. Still, quite impressed at half way, and I hope I'll be able to keep it up enough to do better in time.

While walking I had plenty to look at, including two black swans and their bebbes (odd time of year, surely, for baby swans), various dogs and at one point a huge gaggle of geese, advancing from the lake to lay waste to the rest of us. Why are geese so much scarier than ducks? Is it because I'm convinced they have teeth, and it's only because no one's managed to get near enough that no one has reported this? Who knows.

Look at them, being all cute and cuddly, until...

AAAACK! Now you tell me those aren't teeth!

The topic of recreational hunting was brought up in conversation recently, and I must confess I'm surprised that a) it exists at all in this country, which after all has a no-guns policy, and b) that anyone - especially in this country, which has none of the history or regrettable need of Africa - should want to do it. Seriously. Ricky Gervais once said that it's the mentality of people who hunt for pleasure that disturbs him, and I'd have to agree (although I also object to the killing of an animal for sport. I eat meat, unapologetically, and so I have been told those two statements don't reconcile with each other...it's not an argument I can address simply, so let's just stick to the "mentality" thing). How can it really offer a rush, and should it? Should we indulge in taking pleasure from another thing's death (this is how I feel about a lot of computer games, but that's another kettle of fish, really)? But this is probably a debate that could go on for infinite web space, and I find it hard to do without sounding judgemental and high-horse...ish. Suffice it to say I'm confused by it all. But then I'm confused by the popularity of the Twilight series, too. :)

Back in the park, today, while I was in the middle of 100 steps of walking, I was passed by a group of cyclists -- there always seems to be a pack (what's the collective noun? Google offers a few peoples' suggestions, including "pedali) of cyclists whizzing round -- and in the brief snatch of conversation I heard "...she ended up marrying his best man, from their wedding!" Hee. Not only deliciously tantalising but hilarious to hear from a bunch of cycle-mad men (I would've said "butch" but it didn't feel right when applied to cyclists). I love imagining the context of this conversation.

Whoever says boys don't gossip as much as girls has no idea.

In which I debate the merits of chocolate cake. And travel. And wayward green pigs.

2009-05-10T00:02:00.000-07:00

So a friend has given me a recipe for chocolate-cake-in-a-mug-that-takes-five-minutes. It is, as may well be guessed, disastrous as regards the whole "not gaining weight" thing. But it's the ultimate in comfort food, chocolate. If only it didn't come with the evil, evil calories... And quite unexpectedly, even after my cake-induced moaning and stomach-rubbing the other night, I did the inevitable and made another one last night. Oh yes. I am THAT stupid.

Nice though. Chocolatey.

Moving on. Another friend of mine is in Africa at the moment, and my parents just left for the UK, while my flatmate is five weeks away from jetting to the USA. It's all making me pine for travel, and especially to the first two destinations (I could take or leave America, although DC was pretty great...and Disneyland...). I miss the heat of Africa (although sometimes I could've done without it) and the sunrises and sunsets. The quiet majesty of the mountains and the early morning walks through the jungle up in Hodespruitt. The yawning roars of the lions and the eerie whoops of hyenas. Playing with the honey badgers, and tracking leopards in the camp. I miss the deep bright green of England, and the grey-mossy brown and green of Scotland. I miss the smell of the air, and the sense of history...and the bustle of London, and even the tiny soot-blackened mice that you find running around on the tracks of the underground. It's the things you wouldn't expect to miss, but because they were part of the whole you end up feeling quite sentimental about it all.

Sigh.

Better be careful, or I'll need another chocolate cake!

(Don't do it! cries my poor stomach, while my tastebuds jump up and down in a collective mexican wave, shouting about how the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few)

Yesterday I caught the middle of Disney's Alice in Wonderland cartoon. My word, but Mr Carroll had a special kind of imagination. Excellent use of onomatopoeia. I love words like "brillig" and wabe". Mome raths. They sounded like such sleepy little creatures. Although there's certainly a big difference in what people expect from them. Observe:

versus:

Hmmmm. The original text has Humpty Dumpty describing "raths" as "a sort of green pig", while "mome" is suspected to indicate being lost. One only guesses at how this reached the above depiction at Disney.

Ah well. Time for food!

In which I rescind my criticism of Northanger Abbey

2009-05-07T23:31:00.000-07:00

Oh god. Oh god. I just ate more chocolate cake than I should have. Why?? Why didn't I stop?

Mistaaaaaaaaake!

Yesterday I finished reading Northanger Abbey, by Jane Austen, for the first time since university. I wasn't overly fond of it back then, and may have said some rude things about it, but on a second look, I really enjoyed the wryness of her phrasing. It's completely different than her other books, and though it reminds me of a first novel, it's a REALLY GOOD first novel. Poor Catherine's complete naivete and absolute honesty keeps her going through events as the only one who doesn't know what's really going on. Bless her. But perhaps my enjoyment was enhanced by the adaptation I saw a couple of months ago (BBC, starring Felicity Jones: go see it), because they really took the gothic sensibilities to town and had fun with it. Also the character of Isabella Thorpe really reminds me of someone I once knew...

But enough about that.

I've gotten back into knitting, after being taught a while ago by a lovely and talented knitter, and thought I'd put my idle hours to use by make some booties for a cousin of mine who is expecting. If I say so myself, they turned out pretty well, and I'm fairly happy with the job. Using slightly bigger needles will hopefully prevent these booties from being too small as soon as the kid is two minutes old. We'll see.

Today I was on my way home, consoling myself after a recent job interview (this just in: I AM bad at interviews) with a thrifty amount of groceries (these days comfort food is found in apple juice and pasta) when I saw a little black puppy (why is all my news about dogs? Am I becoming a "dog person" in the same way that people become "cat people"?) being slowly chased after by a small child. Small Child's mother said they were trying to catch it so they could see the phone number on the dog tag. Having also just bought some ham at the grocery store I lured the unsuspecting dog close enough to take gentle hold of its collar and call its owner. Having thus restored the poor little bugger to its own yard I felt pretty good about myself.

Obviously, it doesn't take much.

I've been craving junk food recently, which is a very bad sign, since I think my willpower has been eroded slightly in the last few months. It's neck and neck as to whether I gain back the 26 kilos I lost since I last allowed myself to eat whatever I wanted. Oh god. The vicious cycle. If I didn't hate throwing up so much I'd be in danger of becoming bulemic. (Not really. Don't do it, kids!) It's enough to make you hyperventilate. Why isn't lettuce as good at calming an anxiety attack as chocolate? Seems like a massive design flaw, if you ask me.

Lettuce. It's just not the same.

In which communism and chocolate share a blog

2009-05-04T01:25:00.000-07:00

In a much better frame of mind today, despite not having yet been contacted by the last people I interviewed with. Huzzah! Inexplicable optimism!

This weekend past I got out and about a bit. Saw a movie (Inkheart: verdict: no. Why is it that production studios can take a great concept and through very little effort at creating a film version of that concept, completely fail to create anything worth watching? A lazy script, poor editing/directing, and failure to allow the audience to connect with any characters, to the point where I didn't know the names of two of them until about halfway through. I'm just saying.), wandered the shops, and badgered pet store employees again with requests to cuddle the little tiny jack russell puppy with the pink stripe on his back (we decided it was done to tell him apart in the litter), and had a chocolate/coffee/icy drink thing. Then visited some markets, an art gallery (how cultured!) and wandered through the park where a lot of people in red shirts were listening to some guy spouting what I took to be a random pile of shit, until I realised he was calling everyone "comrade" and there were people carrying signs and...

Well. Who knew that was an idea people were still bandying around here?

Anyway. Today I tried to stomp out some frustration by circling the park a few times. It did not work, but it gave me enough entitlement points to feel I'd earned the right to have dinner (after lunch I felt really full and, like all reformists, swore never to eat again). Then I got angry at myself for buying into the idea that food is bad for you. It's difficult, when surrounded by people who are, shall we say, very keen about the whole exercise/health/body shape ideal, to keep yourself from sighing in despair at your own reflection. I get quite angry, really, when people take it upon themselves to not only take on the philosophy, but to ensure that they point out to all others they come across that what they're considering eating is "bad for you". As someone who has had to lose quite a bit of weight at one point due to health reasons, and therefore someone who recognises the need to keep a healthy diet, I resent it when people who haven't even been through that kind of thing feel the need to judge. Why are people so intent on stepping into other peoples' business - even their eating habits? If asked, most people would probably disagree with the whole "size zero" culture, and yet they still buy it. And then they expect me to buy it as well.

Well to hell with that. I'm getting some chocolate.

In which I'm in a crappy mood.

2009-04-20T23:32:00.000-07:00

Melancholy alert!

Heh. It occurs to me that the above exclamation mark is out of place, given the sentence itself.

Anyway. Wah. I've spent today noodling around on my computer, doing bits and pieces of work and wondering when or if I'll ever get paid for anything again, and why it should all hinge around getting paid, anyway, and why we can't all just be born rich and then feeling bad for assuming no one has it worse than I do. It's a complicated mood. Certainly my prospects of ever doing something I really love are looking bleak, since the world in general doesn't seem all that susceptible to my charms, and today I don't have the energy to buck up my spirits. Today, I am skill-less, direction-less, pointless. Today I am sad.

Had to laugh a minute or so ago when I checked the usual length of time it takes to acquire citizenship from a particular country. The website said 6 months. Try 3.5 years, dipsh*t! Oh yeah, today I'm also depressed about nothing happening re my citizenship application. Pooh!

I'm aware, on some level, that if I wanted to have specific skills I could have trained in them, but at the time a decision had to be made I didn't know anything about what I wanted to -- or could -- do. Nothing I wanted seemed viable, and nothing viable seemed appealing. Sometimes I feel as if I've failed the great exam of Life. Sorry, O, time to sit in the corner with the rest of the D students. Here's a free pen.

Sigh. There's got to be some sort of cathartic therapy to be had in writing all this out, or maybe it'll just depress some other unsuspecting people (sorry about that). It's all just self-pity, I suppose. Again, some part of me knows that there must be plenty of people who have felt like this at some point, and I just have to keep on keeping on, etc. But today I don't want to hear it. I just want to curl up in the foetal position, moan softly and daydream.

Ho hum.

In which all is warm and cosy in the apartment.

2009-04-20T00:37:00.000-07:00

Tonight I sit in my room while the sky outside purples and the cool air rushes in and blows my picture frames precariously about on the walls. I probably should go and check that one by the curtains, but there's a perverse pleasure to be had in waiting to see how long it'll last.

It all reminds me of the faraway Point C (where I ultimately wish to live), and I'm going to have to resist the urge to hole up in here all evening. I've been grocery shopping, and I'm enjoying the feeling you get in your feet after you've taken your shoes off following an hour or so of walking. Mmm.

The year is wearing on, and I'm determined to stay positive, re my prospects of finding a job/satisfaction in the city of Point B. Nevertheless, the travel bug has infiltrated my defences and keeps buzzing on about far off places and adventures to be had. If only someone would pay me to travel about and enjoy myself. Seems like a breakdown in priorities, if you ask me.

This last weekend I engaged in an ill-advised pasttime: gambling. Only ill-advised if you're like me, and have absolutely no luck of any kind with respect to these things. Pleasing enough to get all dressed up and sit under an umbrella, bobbing up every now and then to hang by the railings to watch the horses thunder past, though. The general toffery doesn't extend to the manners of the punters, though. No chivalry to be seen amongst the men, and the women, though faring slightly better, tended to be much more concerned with how they looked than with paying attention to what was around them (including people trying to navigate past with a drink). Still, it's always amusing to hear a bunch of people in suits and dresses start yelling "GO ZAPPERS!" at the top of their lungs.

Mostly, I liked looking at the horses - really fine creatures, and I kept looking longingly after the grey Racecourse horses as they cantered after the winners. I'm going to have to visit the nearby park and its horses soon.

Ack! It's raining! Batten down the hatches!

In which puddles and dogs are fun, but moving is not.

2009-04-14T04:31:00.000-07:00

If there is one thing to be said about my current residence at Point B, it is the view of the city skyline, and in particular, the sky itself. Tonight, for instance, there is a spectacular lightning display flashing across the eastern sky, and it's only a recent article on multiple lightning strike victims that keeps us from opening the balcony door to the elements. One section of the sky is actually a luminous green, which isn't something I've seen before. The torrential quality of the rain is something to delight in, too, although 24 hours ago was a different story.

I'd just done a round of grocery shopping, possibly too much, although I still managed to forget the potatoes, and when I stepped on the bus it began. Rain. Lots of it. And when I stepped off the bus there was even more of it. Gushing all over the road and making the usually short walk home seem an eternity. There were two options, but waiting it out seemed like a futile one. And so instead I braved the wet and walked home. In thirty seconds I was soaked to the skin. And yet after a while there was something nice in not worrying about getting any wetter.

Puddles are fun.

All other news is somewhat limited to me taking a walk in the park, and today hijacking two scottish terriers (one white, one black) under the pretence of checking my foot for blisters (in something of an irony there was a massive one on my toe). Adorable things, although I was belatedly told that the black one had fleas. Sure, I probably shouldn't have gone and started cuddling strange dogs, but what is it with me and this kind of eventuality? (See previous blogs on the subject of ringworm in cats) Also am continuing to pass by a couple walking a teeny tiny black poodle which honestly looks as though it's the bounciest, fluffiest tiniest thing ever to walk on four legs. Its owners don't tend to let it out of their sight, though, so I'll have to stage another blister-check at some point. Nevertheless, dogs, like puddles, are fun.

You know what else is fun? Not moving, that's what! And after this weekend I finally have my stuff moved in, and after a brief setback involving hanging pictures, a heavy frame, and a crash in the middle of the night over my bed, things are well here in point B.

Now all I need is employment. Hmm.

In which I have too much time on my hands

2009-03-27T01:59:00.000-07:00

Tonight my flatmates have much more glamorous things to do, so I'm holding up the watching-tv-alone fort on my own. It's ok, actually; I've got a nice view over the city of Point B, the air is flowing nicely through the flat, and salt and pepper squid in the oven....which I should probably check on.

And now that I've spent fifteen minutes trying to cleanse my eye of the oil/garlic/chilli that spattered with alarming specificity into my eye, I've decided that experimentation in the kitchen is not for me. I wonder if your eyeball can blister...

Anyway. Today I dipped back into some old writing work, and currently am toying with a particular character who seems to be lacking in, well, character. I tend to insert pieces of my own personality into my character, and it seems poor old Lucy displays my boring and safe side. She needs to shake it up a little.

Me: Hey, Lucy. I've been rethinking your character. I don't want you to revert to the stereotypical action girl, but do you think we could try something a little more rounded?

Lucy: You mean, sarcastic and sparkling?

Me: Too 'Elizabeth Bennett'.

Lucy: What about giggly and self-absorbed?

Me: I'm pretty sure that's taken.

Lucy: Can't you try developing a completely ordinary character?

Me: Well, yes, but even ordinary people are more than spectators in their own stories.

Lucy: Rude!

Me: I tell it like it is, babycakes.

Lucy: I hope you're just trying to shock me into new characteristics.

Me: I'll let you know if you start displaying any.

See, now I'm just beating up on a fictional character. This, my friends, is what comes of having too much time on your hands.

Meanwhile, I'm looking for work, in the sense that I spend a lot of time looking at jobs and thinking that I'm never going to get hired to do anything because I'm trained for nothing. Stupid lack of interest in law. So if anyone out there hears of a fabulous position that pays well and comes with compulsory puppy-cuddling, let me know. Maybe I should just go and play with the worms in the garden.

Time for dessert.

In which I'm never moving again ever.

2009-03-19T22:54:00.000-07:00

It was somewhere about halfway between point A and point B where my car decided enough was enough.

I'd left the rest stop about ten minutes ago, and happened to glance at the temperature gauge only to discover that it was quite decisively on "high". In fact, it looked as though it would have gone straight past "high" to "I'm dying, I'm dying, oh god the heat" if there had been room on the gauge. Then the accelerator chimed in with a delightful rattle every time I pressed down. Wondering if I could coast the next 100 or so kilometres to point B and deciding this was probably not an option, I did what any young person of the world would do.

I called my Dad.

Long story short, I got onto the friendly roadside assist people, tried not to think about horror movies, and waited for the tow truck, who took me into the nearest town and dropped me and my car-shaped bundle of overheated pieces at the mechanics. Turns out I'd blown a gasket (ok, the CAR had blown a gasket) which was going to cost more than my car was worth to fix. End result, I am now without a car. Poor Dad had to drive the 200-odd kilometres from point A to come rescue me and my car-load of possessions bound for the new digs in point B.

SUCH a smooth transition.

While I'm still without car, and now aware of how gloriously un-fit I am (never, ever move into a building without a lift. EVER), I'm at least moved-in, and apart from the empty boxes in the corner, the fact that I haven't got any clothes hangers, and that most of my books and dvds and tv have not yet arrived, it's a nice clean room, and it is mine. Hurrah!

Decided not to venture out any more today, as it seems uncommonly unfair to expect it. Of course, I'm not sure what I'll do about dinner. The contents of my cupboard include pasta, tinned fruit, sprinkles (left over from when I was giving a lesson on how to make fairy-bread-men) and various other herbs and spices. Also a box of porridge oats. Hmm. This could be the best, or the worst meal ever eaten...

I've got big ideas.

In which I spend a lot of time talking about my dog

2009-03-16T03:47:00.000-07:00

Last night I caved and let the dog stay outside. He was there at the back of his kennel looking forlornly out with his great brown eyes. Also it was cold and I was tired, so I let him stay out.

A couple of hours later this was proved to have been rather a colossal mistake, as I awoke to quite a lot of grumpy, incessant and pointless barking. At the back gate. Now my beloved puppy is getting on in years and has limited powers of hearing and sight, so it's quite possible that he was actually barking at the gate. Nevertheless, I was awake, and so to stem the flow of notes from neighbours in the morning, I stomped out to catch the little bugger. Unfortunately the aforementioned lessening of senses in the Little Master prevented him from actually recognising me or my patented stop-your-barking glare, and so instead of trotting guiltily up to admit his wrongdoing, poor little frightened puppy yapped like crazy and ran straight off to the safety of his kennel. Felt rather bad about this so instead of chastising I had to comfort him and carry him inside. Think he was quite glad to be inside after all that.

So you see the quality of these posts has dwindled somewhat following the Oscars. And while fly swatting and doggy anecdotes may amuse one or two (all this depending on there being more than one person reading this post -- unlikely), it ain't gonna pay the rent, so I'll try to have some more interesting adventures. Maybe I'd better go to Paris or something...

I'm moving to another city on Friday and have not exactly finished packing, in the traditional sense of the world. This is fairly indicative of my personality, and starting to concern me a little. The whole move is concerning me, if truth be told. It's not a different country or anything (more's the pity) but still, I think it's going to be more difficult than I first envisioned. Mostly because I'm not the world's biggest fan of this city ("yet", the more optimistic part of me adds), and so it's going to take a bit of work to feel at home. Nothing to do but jump in and try, I suppose. One-two-three go!

It's approaching my bedtime, and the Little Master has just fallen asleep, so it's the perfect time to carry him to his basket in the laundry. Nighty night.

In which I am the fly killer, feared by all!

2009-03-13T02:22:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's true. Mid-air fly-swat, people. Mr Miyagi's got nothing on me. Except he did it with chopsticks. I guess.

So this morning I got up at 5am (or, you know, thereabouts) to drive out and watch the balloon festival. Still pretty dark, but the smell of dutch pancakes was in the air, and someone was doing a fairly bad job of radio commentary. Nevermind, balloons! Right?....Right?

WRONG! Stupid prevailing winds. And where's the challenge if you're going to give up over a little breeze? These balloonists need to toughen up, that's what.

Anyway, I have to do it again tomorrow morning. Ugh.

Ah yes, the Oscars. Remember them? I was on the whole quite pleased with it. Thought Hugh Jackman did a pretty good job of entertaining, and while I was thrown by the fact that Jack "How Long Til We Can Cut to Nicholson" Nicholson was nowhere to be seen, I was mollified by Jackman's "home made" opening number. So:

In which we were pleased:
Danny Boyle. Just awesome. He was so excited.
The Slumdog Millionaire kids on the red carpet - they. Are. Fantastic.
Sean Penn winning (let out the biggest gasp at that point) and his acceptance speech.
Tina Fey and Steve Martin's "religion about aliens that they made up".
Kate Winslet's dad whistling to indicate his position in the audience. Awww.
Heath Ledger's win. YES I CRIED. I'm only human.
Two acceptance speeches in particular: Man On Wire, where the guy DID MAGIC ON STAGE (I mean seriously, more of that, please), and the winner for "The House of Little Cubes" ending his speech with "Domo arigato, Mr Roboto". Hell YES.

In which we could have been more pleased:
Not sure I'm loving the "five actors/actresses present the acting nominees one by one". Takes longer than a clips show, for one thing, and for another, I was really looking forward to Robert Downey's clip.
Also the creative camera movement during the In Memoriam segment. Seriously. Now is not the time, guys.

But on the whole, pretty damn good. Ich bin pleased.

In which there are no more sleeps!

2009-02-22T15:32:00.000-08:00

Well, if you're reading this, I guess you asked for it:

Best Picture
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Frost/Nixon
Milk
The Reader
Slumdog Millionaire

It seems like it's pretty much a given here that Slumdog Millionaire will take out the big prize. And I'm pretty damn happy with that. I never saw Milk or The Reader, but I'm still pulling for Slumdog. It's a really touching film, and manages, despite such despair and pain, to leave you feeling really good. I'd be just as happy if Frost/Nixon won, but I'd say the runner up is Milk, and possibly (though not necessarily justifiably) The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

Who Should Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire

Best Director
Danny Boyle for Slumdog Millionaire
Stephen Daldry for The Reader
David Fincher for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Ron Howard for Frost/Nixon
Gus Van Sant for Milk

It's funny that it's sort of unusual for all the directors whose films have been nominated for Picture to show up here in the Director category. Ususally there's a wildcard, but here I think they've got it right (Batman fans will disagree, and possibly Chris Nolan should have been considered). Frost/Nixon is Howard's most subtle film to date, and it's really elegantly handled. I was really impressed with it. Benjamin Button is capable, and looks gorgeous, but possibly a tad overlong. I think, though, that Mr Boyle is going to get his just desserts for Slumdog. And when you look at the film, it's really hard to argue with that.

Who Should Win: Danny Boyle for Slumdog Millionaire
Who Will Win: Danny Boyle for Slumdog Millionaire

Best Actor
Richard Jenkins for The Visitor
Frank Langella for Frost/Nixon
Sean Penn for Milk
Brad Pitt for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Mickey Rourke for The Wrestler

Oh, Frank Langella. How I wish you would win in this category. He's amazing as Nixon, and he's certainly paid his dues. Sadly, I don't think he'll get it. I haven't seen The Wrestler, so I can't really comment, but by all accounts Mickey Rourke is the one to beat here. He certainly gives a great acceptance speech, so there's that to look forward to (hands on buzzers, censors!). If it's not Rourke, I think it's Penn's again, although the Academy has never been a fan of his. Pitt has done better (see Burn After Reading), and Richard Jenkins is too much of a wild card.

Who Should Win: Frank Langella for Frost/Nixon
Who Will Win: Mickey Rourke for The Wrestler

Best Actress
Anne Hathaway for Rachel Getting Married
Angelina Jolie for The Changeling
Melissa Leo for Frozen River
Meryl Streep for Doubt
Kate Winslet for The Reader

Speaking of people who have paid their dues. Kate Winslet has been nominated, what, five times now? Give the girl the damn Oscar! It's pretty much Winslet's to lose, although Ms Streep, who gives a powerhouse performance in Doubt, can never really be discounted. And while there's a big to do about whether filmmakers are using the Holocaust to gain awards (seems a pretty dumb thing to say, if you ask me) I still do hope that Kate mentions Ricky Gervais in her speech.

Who Should Win: Kate Winslet for The Reader
Who Will Win: Kate Winslet for The Reader

Best Supporting Actor
Josh Brolin for Milk
Robert Downey Jr for Tropic Thunder
Philip Seymour "Icky Man" Hoffman for Doubt
Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight
Michael Shannon for Revolutionary Road

This is the one people are calling a lock. It's Ledger's,
they say. And I tell you what, the Academy is facing a riot if it's not. And I do believe that it's not just sentimental. I think he really earned it with this role. Anyone who can look that demented and terrifying in a nurse's uniform knows what they're doing. You watch this tour de force (look at me, being all French) and you really do feel how much of a loss it is that such a talent is gone. Michael Shannon, it has to be said, is in Revolutionary Road for about five minutes, but jayzus, he packs a punch. I'm looking forward to Robert Downey Jr's clip the most, and I'm hoping it's the "you people" scene. As for Mr Ledger, I'm gunning for the pencil scene, not just because of the magic trick, but because I think that was some damn fine acting.

Who Should Win: Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight
Who Will Win: Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight

Best Supporting Actress
Amy Adams for Doubt
Penelope Cruz for Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Viola Davis for Doubt
Taraji P. Henson for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Marisa Tomei for The Wrestler

This one really could be anyone's Oscar. I'm leaning towards Cruz, because I think she's better than her earlier movies (Vanilla Sky, All the Pretty Horses) indicated. Otherwise, it could be Tomei, about whom much has been said (see Rourke's BAFTA speech: "I think she was very brave to take her clothes off...I enjoyed looking at her") -- no no! Of her performance. But there's still a little ill will there in the Academy for her My Cousin Vinny Oscar (legend has it that the presenter, one Jack Palance, may have been a little drunk and read out the wrong name...). I really liked Taraji P. Henson, and Viola Davis (again, about 5 minutes on screen) was powerful, but I'm going with Cruz.

Who Should Win: Penelope Cruz for Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Who Will Win: Penelope Cruz for Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Best Original Screenplay
Frozen River
Happy-Go-Lucky
In Bruges
Milk
Wall*E

I do think it's rough that neither Sally Hawkins for Happy-Go-Lucky or Colin Farrell for In Bruges got a nomination, despite both of them winning at the Golden Globes. Nevertheless. I'd say it's between In Bruges and Wall*E, but that my just be because I'd love to see Pixar get recognition for bringing intelligent, witty stories back to animation. Possibly the BAFTAs have given In Bruges an edge, and I wouldn't mind if it won, really.

Who Should Win: Wall*E
Who Will Win: In Bruges

Best Adapted Screenplay
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Doubt
Frost/Nixon
The Reader
Slumdog Millionaire

Again, it's kind of open, although I do think that Slumdog deserves all its nominations to be awarded. It feels odd having that much confidence in a movie, but there you go. If it's not Slumdog, I'd really, REALLY like it to be Frost/Nixon, based on the play that both lead actors starred in prior to the film. I just want this film to win something, damnit!

Who Should Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire

Best Cinematography
Changeling
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
The Reader
Slumdog Millionaire

Again, I think Slumdog earned this one, but if not, I'd be happy to see it go to Wally Pfister for The Dark Knight. He's won a couple of cinematography awards so far, so it's not that unlikely. (Sorry these are getting short, but I'm running against the clock here!)

Who Should Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire

Best Editing
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
Frost/Nixon
Milk
Slumdog Millionaire

I'm thinking it's one of three: The Dark Knight, Frost/Nixon or Slumdog Millionaire, and I think that the one for which it was most significantly used was Slumdog.

Who Should Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire

Best Art Direction
Changeling
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
The Duchess
Revolutionary Road

Hmmm. Lost of period dramas here, but I think perhaps The Dark Knight's elaborate sets will push it over the line. Possibly not far enough to beat The Duchess, as we all know how much the Academy likes ye olde extravagancee.

Who Should Win: The Dark Knight
Who Will Win: The Duchess

Best Costume
Australia
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
The Duchess
Revolutionary Road

It's all about fantasy and periods. Mostly periods. And while I love the Joker's costume in The Dark Knight, I think it's more likely that either The Duchess or Australia (because you never discount Catherine Martin) will win.

Who Should Win: The Dark Knight
Who Will Win: The Duchess

Best Makeup
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
Hellboy 2: The Golden Army

Another person you can't ever discount in the artistic
categories is Guillarmo Del Toro's crew. So don't be surprised if there's an upset by Hellboy 2. As it is, I think it'll be Benjamin Button's major win. And when you look at Mr Pitt it's kind of understandable.

Who Should Win: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Who Will Win: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Original Score
Alexandre Desplat for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
James Newton Howard for Defiance
Danny Elfman for Milk
A. R. Rahman for Slumdog Millionaire
Thomas Newman for WALL*E

I love saying Alexandre Desplat. I'm really, really pulling for Mr Newman, although that probably comes as no surprise. It's probably going to be A. R. Rahman, and that's kind of ok, because I'd like Newman to win it for something really extraordinary.

Who Should Win: Thomas Newman for WALL*E
Who Will Win: A. R. Rahman for Slumdog Millionaire

Original Song

"Jai Ho" from Slumdog Millionaire

"O Saya" from Slumdog Millionaire

"Down to Earth" from WALL*E

Dear Oscar God. If Thomas Newman can't win for Original Score, please let him win for the Song instead. Having said that, the Slumdog songs are so catchy...

Who Should Win: "Down to Earth" from WALL*E
Who Will Win: "Down to Earth" from WALL*E

Best Sound
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (I now hate this movie for its long title)
The Dark Knight
Slumdog Millionaire
WALL*E
Wanted

I'd say The Dark Knight has a clear shot here.

Who Should Win: The Dark Knight
Who Will Win: The Dark Knight

Best Sound Editing
The Dark Knight
Iron Man
Slumdog Millionaire
WALL*E
Wanted

So much has been said about WALL*E's sound, and all of it manufactured in a junkyard, that I think it might FINALLY be Pixar's time for an Oscar here. Yaaay!

Who Should Win: WALL*E
Who Will Win: WALL*E

Best Visual Effects
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (CURSES)
The Dark Knight
Iron Man

This one I think is either Iron Man's or BB's (yeah, I'm not even going to try). Maybe Brad Pitt's transformation from old to cute.

Who Should Win: That Button film.
Who Will Win: That Button film.

Best Animated Film
Bolt
Kung Fu Panda
WALL*E

If it's not WALL*E, I really don't know what they think they're doing. Such an adorable film about a really gorgeous character.

Who Should Win: WALL*E
Who Will Win: WALL*E

Best Foreign Language Film
Der Baader Meinhoff Komplex
Entre les Murs
Revanche
Okuribito
Vals Im Bashir

The only one I've heard of, and it's gotten some really high praise.

Who Should Win:Vals Im Bashir
Who Will Win: Vals Im Bashir

Best Documentary, Feature
The Betrayal - Nerakhoon
Encounters at the End of the World
The Garden
Man On Wire
Trouble the Water

One. You don't often hear a lot about documentaries, and this one just won the BAFTA for best British Film. Two. It looks freaking TERRIFYING.

Who Should Win: Man on Wire
Who Will Win: Man on Wire

Best Documentary, Short

The Conscience of Nhem En
The Final Inch
Smile Pinki
The Witness from the Balcony of Room 306

No idea. Let's go for Smile Pinki. And that balcony one.

Who Should Win: Smile Pinki
Who Will Win: The Witness from the Balcony of Room 306

Best Short film, Animated
Les Maison en petits cubes
Ubornaya istoriya - lyubovnaya istoriya
Oktapodi
Presto
This Way Up

Presto is AWESOME. Although I do REALLY like the House of the Little Cubes.

Who Should Win: Presto!
Who Will Win: Presto!

Best Short film, Live Action
Auf de Strecke
Manon sur le bitume
New Boy
Grisen
Spielzeugland

Er.....um....

Who Should Win: Auf de Strecke
Who Will Win: New Boy

THAT's IT! Phew! In the nick of time! Good luck everyone!!

In which the rat symbolises obviousness

2009-02-19T23:14:00.000-08:00

Captain's Log: 20 February
Last movie watched: Election
Song currently stuck in head: "I'm Shipping Up To Boston" by the Dropkick Murphys. Listen to it. Thank me later.

We're down to the penultimate oblog, finishing off the last of the Best Picture winners. Speaking of which, the last awards are those for Best Director and Best Motion Picture. Apparently the latter has changed several times over the years, from Outstanding Picture to Outstanding Motion Picture to Best Picture...ladies and gentlemen, enter the most boring piece of trivia yet. Something that I like, though, is the fact that every so often the Academy discusses new categories to include.

Best Casting (rejected in 1999)
Best Stunt Coordination (rejected in 1999 and 2005)
Best Title Design (rejected in 1999)

Ok, though it says they meet every year it looks as though they only did anything in 1999. Shame. I'd like to see an award for Best Performance by an Inanimate Object (this year's nominees include The Pencil in The Dark Knight, and the Magician's Hat in Presto!). Or Best Performance by a Meal. It'd be great. I do understand the Stunt guys' beef, though, I mean, no one else is lighting themselves on fire or jumping out of windows. Seems the least they could do is give 'em a little gold statue.

Almost forgot to include this, but guess what happened in 2003? Finally, the Oscar Went To the Lord of the Rings: Return of the King! Yay! First Fantasy film EVER to win, and I was stoked. I sort of think the first one deserved it most, but I was happy it was being honoured at all. Plot? Come on, have you not seen it yet? It's the third in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and all hell is breaking loose. The armies of Rohan (hi Rohan!), Gondor and, well, the dead, are bonding together to fight the evil army of Mordor, while several hobbits, an elf, a dwarf, a man and a wizard kick ass in various ways, shapes and forms. Most of all, Frodo, Sam and a brilliantly brought-to-life Gollum destroy the One Ring. If none of this means anything to you, you might as well skip ahead, because it ain't getting any clearer. The effects are amazing, the performances uniformally great, and the script extraordinarily well done. I've spoken to a couple of people involved in this film and they all seem to just love being a part of it, which makes a great deal of difference. The legendary multiple endings were fine with me, I never liked their posters much, because they all ended up being a bit much. They all seemed to have teaser posters, though, which were much simpler and in my opinion more effective. So I've found the teaser poster.

Speaking of things that didn't happen, it's time for the winner* of Best Picture 2005. It's Brokeback Mountain. Now I know what you're saying, popular myth has it that some other movie won, despite the former winning just about EVERY SINGLE OTHER AWARD. But those people are, in the words of Shakespeare, wrongity wrong wrong. It was Brokeback Mountain. The tale of two people who fall in love and are unable to be together. Sure it's usually described as "that gay cowboy movie", but I think the people are right who say that it's really just a love story, and a beautifully-told one, at that. Ang Lee's direction is pretty much pitch perfect, and he makes sure that every shot is important. You just don't see that kind of commitment in many movies these days. It was the first movie I've seen where I was really, REALLY impressed with Heath Ledger's performance -- he's got this angry, jaw-clenching mannerism going through the whole thing, and it's a really great choice. Heh. Apparently he almost broke Jake Gyllenhaal's nose during a kiss. Not too shabby. Jake is also impressive, and incredibly good looking, but that's not the only reason I like this movie. I like it because halfway through you actually are able to see it solely as a love story - it's not about sexuality any more, it's about love and tragedy. And pretty, pretty guys. Ahem.

Apparently the poster was modelled after Titanic's, which is kind of cool.

Right, next it was one of my favourite films of the last few years, 2006's The Departed. It's been mentioned to me that it's a complete copy of Hong Kong's Infernal Affairs, but I haven't seen that, so too bad. I will say this though, the director of the Hong Kong version says: "Of course I think my version is better. But the Hollywood version is pretty good too." Heh. This is also the movie in which the song mentioned above features prominently. I challenge you to find better lyrics. The plot is this: one police school graduate becomes a member of the State Police. He is also a spy for Boston's biggest crime lord, Jack Nicholson. Oh, er, Frank Costello. Another graduate is chosen by the State Police to become an insider in Costello's gang, working for the cops as a spy. One gets promoted, the other gets sent to jail to make his expulsion from the police force look real. Nice. But it becomes about the subject of identity, and the importance of that. Leonardo DiCaprio is just getting better and better, and Mark Wahlberg kicks ass, although I'm impressed they found a scene to show in his Best Supporting Actor nominee clip that didn't include the 'f' word. Jack Nicholson is insane and Alec Baldwin also has one of the best and most telling lines of the film, during a police bugging of an illegal exchange, about how much he loves the Patriot Act.

"The Simpsons" also did a spoof episode of this film called "The De-Barted", and while I love the movie, I have to admit this was pretty genius, and includes a quote from one Ralph Wiggum at the end that'll make sense to anyone who's seen the movie:

"The rat symbolises obviousness!"

Mr Scorsese, I love you, but... Hee.

And at the end, we come to 2007's winner, No Country for Old Men. For me, it's really a movie that's made by the presence of the lovely (but here not so lovely) Javier Bardem. Sporting one of the most famously worst hairstyles of all kind, he's chilling and quietly violent (does that even make sense?) as the bounty hunter who just won't freaking stop. The petrol station coin-tossing scene is legendary for good reason, and his whole sense of calm is what's so unnerving. The whole film, in fact, has VERY little dialogue, or even sound. It's all about the long silences and the vast expanses of wasteland. How far each character has come, how far there is to go. And this is a film made by the same people who made Burn After Reading. Go figure.

There's only one to go, and that's my incredibly LONG blog on final predictions.

Byee.

"Who the fuck are you?"
"I'm the guy who does his job. You must be the other guy."
--- Anthony Estrella, Mark Wahlberg - The Departed ---

*at least in MY Oscars

In which the Lord of the Rings doesn't win twice

2009-02-17T01:20:00.000-08:00

Captain's log: 17 February
Last movie watched: Sleeping With the Enemy (never has tinned food been so creepy)
Song currently stuck in head: An awesome reggae version of "Knocking on Heaven's Door"

Currently plastered, barnacle-like, in front of the heater and thinking healthy, healthy thoughts. All I want to do when I'm feeling like this is drink hot chocolate and sit in front of some source of heat.

But I'm here now, and it's time to talk about the awards for Best Actor and Best Actress. Quite often given not given to the person I think should win, and so shall it be this year, when I'm dying for Frank Langella to pull off a coup for Frost/Nixon, and they'll give it to Mickey Rourke, probably. (He does give a good speech, though, if his BAFTA one is anything to go by.) As for Best Actress, I suspect Winslet will get it for The Reader, which I'm ok with, because I love Kate Winslet, and although I haven't seen this one, she's usually pretty awesome. Also, I kind of want to see if she mentions Ricky Gervais. (See season 1 of extras)

Now it's sort of timely that the first movie up is Gladiator, winner 2000. Timely because here is the best case you're going to come across of the Best Actor award being given to someone who really has done better (see how polite I'm being?). It's Russell Crowe, whose off-screen antics make it difficult to see as a decent actor, but he is. But clearly the Oscars are not consulting me on matters like this, so all I can do is complain on blogs like this. Now what about this movie. It's ok, I guess, but in my opinion it was a pretty thin-on-the-ground year. Although I can't vouch for Quills, since I left part-way through it (let's just say it is not a film to see with your grandmother). Anyway, back to Gladiator. This might explain a lot of what I just don't warm to about this film:

"Nicholson, the third and final screenwriter, says Crowe told him, “Your lines are garbage but I’m the greatest actor in the world, and I can make even garbage sound good.” "

It's Ridley Scott, too, because I've never really felt he was a "heart" director. But for those of you who have missed this one, it's about a Roman general who royally pisses off the crazy son of emperor, and then pays the price by getting captured into slavery and eventually drafted into "working" as a Gladiator in the Colosseum. Battles ensue, with a musical cue which would later become the theme to Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. Although it never seems to be acknowledged formally. But as they're both done by Hans Zimmer, I suppose he has the right to plagiarise his own stuff.

Crowe (sorry, The Greatest Actor In The World) was back the next year in 2001's A Beautiful Mind. There's a lot I like about this film, but I would've given the award to one of two others: Gosford Park, or Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. Yeah, I said it! But the movie. It's about mathematician John Nash, who developed highly influential works in game theory. It's about his descent into mental illness, and his struggle to re-enter the world of mathematics. It's about his wife and how she stood by him. (This, incidentally, is pretty fictitious, since they divorced in 1963, but remained friends from 1970 onwards.) It's a nice take on the theme of courage and love, and Ron Howard has always seemed to me to be a person interested in theme and heart than harsh reality. As for trivia, there are a lot of things I could comment on here. Like the fact that Paul Bettany (who I actually quite like) was cast solely due to his performance in A Knight's Tale. I'm sorry, but formation boy-band dancing in vaguely medieval dress is not what I call a great feat of artistry. The best things about this film are the lead performances, from Crowe and Jennifer Connelly. Connelly won the Supporting Actress Oscar, Crowe, who shouldn't have won the year before, lost this year to Denzel Washington. Swings and roundabouts.

The year 2002, Lord of the Rings Doesn't Win Again. I can let this go a little easier, I suppose, because Chicago, 2002's winner, is a lot of fun. Renee Zellweger and her disappearing eyes notwithstanding (seriously: look at her in Jerry Maguire and then look at her now). And I've got nothing against giving awards to films that are fun. It's certainly the polar opposite of The Pianist. So what's it about? It's based on the musical, about two murderesses trying to play the publicity game to get themselves out of a death sentence. Catherine Zeta-Jones's performance is best described by the words "brassy" and "awesome", and she and Richard Gere (who knew he could sing and dance?) steal the show, and Gere's tap-dance is my favourite part of it. Unless it's the touching rendition of "Mr Cellophane" by John C. Reilly. It's got so much vigour and so many great sets and ideas for choreography. It's just really good fun.

Oh yes, boys and girls. Today's lesson is: "Fun is good."

Only a couple more oblogs to go!

"They'd love you a lot more if you were hanged. You know why? Because it would sell more papers. That's Chicago."
--- Richard Gere - Chicago ---

In which I'm slightly bitter and mostly twisted

2009-02-15T02:47:00.000-08:00

Captain's log: 15 February
Last movie watched: P.S. I Love You
Song currently stuck in head: Galway Girl, from the above.

Ever had one of those evenings when you feel like the opening credits of Bridget Jones' Diary? You know, the mental equivalent of listening to sad pop music and rocking back and forth in your pajamas while quaffing (hi bethini!) glass after glass of wine? No? Me neither. But that's why you shouldn't send job applications off without proofreading and then watch P.S. I Love You. Live and learn.

I don't honestly know why I hated this film so much in the day, and suspect I need to re-watch it, but that would mean three hours in the desert. Literally. Yes, it's Sandfest '96, the late Anthony Minghella's Tribute to Sand, 1996's The English Patient. What's it about? Sand, mostly. Also about Kirsten Scott Thomas falling in love with Ralph Fiennes, and this all being told to Juliette Binoche by a very crispy burns victim. I know, harsh, but see the above paragraph for the mood I'm in right now. Binoche won an Oscar for her Supporting Actress work, and I lost 3 hours of my life. I really need to see this again.

We're going to take a break at this point to talk about the awards given to Best Supporting Actor and Best Supporting Actress. I know I've said a couple of the other awards are my favourite categories, but I really mean it this time. I always think the supporting actor categories have more tension and possibility for upset in them. Little people can get through with these awards, and I kind of like that aspect. This year, of course, Heath Ledger is ALL BUT a lock to take out the Supp. Actor Oscar. I'm not saying he's a lock because there's ALWAYS the possibility that it'll go to someone else. I'll be discussing an example later on, but for now let's just look at Daniel Day Lewis, the year he (and his yellow trousers) were nominated for Gangs of New York. He won just about every award there was in the lead up, but come Oscar-time and BOOM! They put him in the wrong category and Adrien Brody swoops in and wins (justifiably) for The Pianist. So while I think it's likely Mr Ledger will win, I'm not betting the house on it.

Next! A movie that started off being everyone's favourite, and now is loudly criticised, it's 1997's Titanic. Just as big as Ben-Hur, it won 11 Academy Awards. And you know what? I loved it. Its script is admittedly one whose dialogue could have used some substantial work, and the song, which seems to garner the most hatred, had some shocking lyrics but was otherwise quite beautiful. And the rest? Very impressive. It's massive, and touching and downright heartbreaking towards the end. I defy anyone to say they didn't at least tear up. It's one of those movies I am happy to enjoy, without picking at its flaws. So ner. I maintain that anyone who can make a 3 hour film about the world's most famous ship sinking suspenseful is doing rather well.

The next year Spielberg was back with Saving Private Ryan, but it was the witty-yet-Paltrow-hampered Shakespeare In Love that walked away with 1998's Oscar. Tom Stoppard is at his lovely best writing a clever and often hilarious take on what might possibly maybe could have happened when young William Shakespeare sat down to write Romeo and Juliet. It makes no claims to historical accuracy, and indeed barely anything is known about Shakespeare, so these filmmakers can pretty much go hell bent for leather. It was the first comedy to win Best Picture since Annie Hall, which is a sad state of affairs. There's a lot of fun to be had watching this, even if it's just for the little bits and pieces of Shakespeare they've thrown in. And when all else fails, Geoffrey Rush is awesome. And Judi Dench, who won her Oscar (though we all know it was really for the previous year's Her Majesty Mrs Brown) for 8 minutes on screen, has one of the best lines:

"I know something of a woman in a man's profession. Yes by God I do know about that."

In addition to this, Ms Dench apparently had to wear such high heels (one supposes to keep the dress off the ground) that the director nicknamed her "Tudor Spice". Best. Nickname. Ever.

And as the last Best Picture Winner of the 20th century, we come to 1999's American Beauty, Sam Mendes' love letter to the despair and emptiness of the American dream. It says on the net that Robert Altman apparently "hated" this movie. Which is kind of harsh. What's most impressive is that this was Sam Mendes' first film directing job EVER. He was a theatre director, made a movie, won an Oscar. Pfft! Nothin' to it! So it's about a family, mostly a man, who finds himself in the ruttiest rut that ever rutted. Its his (often odd, occasionally perverted) attempts to dig himself out and into the life he actually wants. It's not my favourite film, but I wouldn't agree with Altman either. I'm certainly an admirer of the artistry that went into making it. What else can I tell you about it? Apparently there was an Hungarian film made called Hungarian Beauty, which was, shot for shot, a copy of American Beauty. This was evidently fine with everyone, and won a major Hungarian film award. Wish I knew this was ok. Think I'll go out and shoot The Departed in my backyard.

I'm out! Time for more sad music.

Brad: "Got a minute?"
Lester: "For you, Brad, I've got five!"
--- Barry Del Sherman, Kevin Spacey - American Beauty ---

In which I go all gooey over Scottish films

2009-02-12T15:38:00.000-08:00

Captain's Log: 13 February
Last movie watched: Doubt (Um. Ummm. All I'll say is if you want to make it ambiguous as to whether a character has committed sexual assault, you might want to pay more attention to casting. Or maybe that was what they were going for.)
Song currently in head: Every Day and Every Night, or whatever it's really called, by Bob Marley.

The Writers Guild of America awards were announced in the last few days, which is exceptionally convenient, seeing as today's oblog is brought to you by the awards for Original Screenplay and Adapted Screenplay. There doesn't seem to be any outright winner so far, although the WGA winners were Milk (original) and Slumdog Millionaire (adapted). I still like WALL*E for original screenplay, because I'm intrigued by screenplays that depict action with little dialogue. Not to say I don't like the dialogue. Because I'm also intrigued by In Bruges' dialogue (still have to see this one). I'd say Slumdog has the best chance for adapted screenplay, and that's just fine with me. But the rest is up for grabs, which makes it kind of exciting.

I've been reading about this category, and apparently there was this massive kerfuffle when Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet (or should that be Kenneth Branagh's William Shakespeare's Hamlet?) was nominated for Adapted Screenplay, because some thought all he had done was put William Shakespeare's words on screen. Well I am here to side with Roger Ebert in defending this, because it's much more than that. It's visual, character depiction, timing -- there's a whole essay to be written on the topic of whether or not Ophelia was present during the "To Be or Not To Be" speech. And come ON, have you seen that scene? It's gorgeous.

Ahem.

Sooo. Films of the 1990s. I did well here too - I only have to see Unforgiven to complete the decade! We'll start, in the words of Julie Andrews, at the very beginning.

1990's Dances With Wolves is not only long, it's the last time Kevin Costner was taken seriously. Too harsh? Probably. He wasn't half bad in Mr Brooks. Ok, back to the point. This was Costner's masterpiece, about a Civil War lieutenant (question: why does this word get pronounced "left-tenant"? Why?) who travels to a remote military post and befriends the Native Americans. And then...whoa! Crazy officers, scalping, awesome nicknames, gorgeous-as-all-get-out animals, and then DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! And not of people! Talk about disturbing. There's apparently a sequal being planned, with Viggo Mortensen rumoured to take on the role of Dunbar. The soundtrack was also reportedly Pope John Paul 2nd's favourite piece of music. Talk about your recommendations.

He didn't say it, but I suspect that 1991's The Silence of the Lambs was the Pope's favourite movie. Probably. The last movie so far to win the Big Five Oscars, and Anthony Hopkins' performance is the shortest ever to win a Leading Actor Oscar (at just over 16 minutes on screen). It's also awesome. My favourite bit of trivia surrounding this film is to do with how Hopkins fashioned the voice of LEcter, apparently based on Truman Capote and (this is the good bit) Katharine Hepburn. Dunn!! I bet she'd be pleased. Probably.

Wait! Wait! I've just found a piece of trivia to match it:

The first moth cocoon found in one of the victim's throats was made from a combination of "Tootsie-Rolls" and gummy bears, so that if she swallowed it, it would be edible.

Man, somebody missed a marketing strategy just begging to be used.

Next! The last film shot in black and white (ok, and a tiny bit of red) to win Best Picture, it's Schindler's List, 1993. Feels a long time ago now. And there's very little that's funny that I can relate about this one. Unless it's the fact that I gave a speech once about how Steven Spielberg doesn't use sex scenes in his films (as a rule) and SOMEONE piped up that there's a sex scene in Schindler's List. Thanks ever so much. So what's it about? Oskar Schindler, to be brief, who risked his fortune and life to save the lives of Jews during the Holocaust by giving them employment. It was Spielberg's first directing Oscar, and it was absolutely right that he did win. He took no salary, and reportedly often found shooting days overwhelming. Also, it turns out Robin Williams used to call him up each day to cheer him up. Aw.

1994's Forrest Gump coined many a phrase, none more annoyingly-utilised than "Run, Forrest! Run!" And who among us hasn't used it? I visited the Bubba Gump Shrimp Corp. in New York, which is a restaurant, in case you were wondering, and they had signs on the tables saying either "Run, Forrest! Run!" or "Stop, Forrest! Stop!", depending on whether you wanted the waiter's attention or not. Anyway, back to the film. Apparently there are a lot of people who thought it was rubbish. I never heard any of that at the time. There's a lot of guff on the web about whether it's "pop propaganda" or "very sweet", but I don't see why it can't just be simpler than that. It's a good film. I liked it a lot. And Tom Hanks was amazing in it. Yes, it knocked The Shawshank Redemption out of the Oscars, but that's just how things go. This film was also the basis for my love for Gary Sinise, and his scene on the hospital floor is just about as good as you're ever going to see. There's one piece of trivia that says a studio (*cough*warnerbros*cough*) gave up the rights to this film because they thought the premise had already been exhausted in Rain Man. I hate studios for this reason.

Last but by no means least, it's 1995's Braveheart, and while just about all of it is different to what actually happened (and "Braveheart" itself is a reference to Robert the Bruce, not William Wallace), I still love it, for the music, the spectacle, the scenery and the major theme, which never fails to make me well up, being that of a brave fight for freedom against mountainous odds. For those of you who don't know (honestly), it's the story of William Wallace, a Scotsman who led the Scottish people in a war against the British, which was at the time attempting to clear Scotland of the Scots, and to keep it under the cruel thumb of King Edward 1 of England (by many accounts a great King for England, but a crappy King for Scotland). It's about the individual's right to freedom, to the basic human rights of life, love and justice, and the strength it takes to stand up to oppression, when bending is the easiest thing to do. A bit of trivia I've probably mentioned before, because I love it, is that Edward 1 demanded that his body, once deceased, be taken to Stirling castle and buried as a claim to the land as his own. His son, Edward 2 (the sequal) obeyed in as much as he took his father's bones most of the way, but somewhere near the border they were lost forever. I should probably note that this was told to me by a Scotsman, who while lovely and part of my favourite people in the world, has been known to tell a porky or two.

There's also controversy about a particular statue that has been erected at the base of the hill which holds the original Wallace monument (7 feet tall, just like the man himself). This second statue is of Mel Gibson as Wallace, and has the word "Freedom" inscribed at its base. It has not been popular and, well, you can see why. However, I will say this. It was commissioned by a man who was in hospital with what was thought to be a terminal illness, and he says that the film and its message of hope and strength is what got him through, and so he had the statue made to commemorate this. So I salute the sentiment, if not the actual statue.

Ok folks, I think that's about all I've got for tonight. Go see a movie.

Toodles!

"In the Year of our Lord 1314, patriots of Scotland - starving and outnumbered - charged the fields of Bannockburn. They fought like warrior poets; they fought like Scotsmen, and won their freedom."
YEAH!
--- Angus Macfadyen, Braveheart ---

In which I didn't realise I'd seen so many 80s movies

2009-02-09T02:59:00.000-08:00

Captain’s Log: 9 February
Last movie watched: Bobby
Song currently stuck in head: Actually it's pretty empty right now, but if I dig around it's "Hey you get off of my cloud".

I’ve just been in a conversation about what a pile of crap the awards shows are. To them I say, Pppppppllllpppp! :P

On Sunday the BAFTAs were announced, and I caught a little of it, right when James McAvoy was on stage, so that was a bonus. Winners were mainly Slumdog Millionaire, Benjamin Button picked up the technical awards, whereas the acting awards went to Mickey Rourke, Kate Winslet, Penelope Cruz and Heath Ledger. Fantastic moment when Danny Boyle won the Directing award: his son jumped up and yelled “WOO! I LOVE YOU DAD!” More sons should do that.

Today’s topic is that of the awards for Cinematography and Editing. I’ve gotten a new respect for Editors in the past few years, having seen a number of films which would have benefited from a little more in the way of edits. As for Cinematography, it’s another of my favourite categories, although I have somewhat patchy luck in predicting the winner. I actually like Slumdog Millionaire for both these awards, largely because they did a lot of the filming in a kind of guerrilla way, on prototype digital cameras, and managed to pull it off.

Meanwhile, it’s time for the 1980s!

We kick off with 1981’s Chariots of Fire, which apart from being identifiable by its lovely musical score, was a film about the three r’s: race, religion and running. It gets slightly unnerving when you delve into the true story and how it was tweaked to make the end result, but the fact is I love the film, and I don’t want to ruin that, so we’re not talking about it. The film’s original title was “Running”, and I think we’re all happy that they changed it. The opening sequence (including the eulogy) is one of my favourite cinematic moments. I’m also really digging the poster.

In 1982 (an excellent, excellent year) the winner was David Attenborough’s Gandhi. The most memorable and indeed one of the most impressive things about this film is Ben Kingsley, who in no uncertain terms kicks ass. Jayzus, though, there are an awful lot of big name actors here. John Gielgud, Martin Sheen, Daniel Day Lewis and Nigel Hawthorne, to name a few. But I also really like the disclaimer at the beginning, which basically says that yes, there are some events we’re not going to be able to fit into this film. What is included is done faithfully to the spirit of Mahatma Gandhi, as much a figure of hope as a real man, who chose non-violent protest as his weapon against injustice. Look at me getting all teary.

Guess what! This year I made it a little mission to see a bunch of Oscar-winning movies, and one of them was 1984’s Amadeus, which is an odd, but beautiful film. It depicts Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart as a rock star of his time; bawdy, rude, but unequivocally brilliant. It’s all told from the point of view of Antonio Salieri, a composer – the Court Composer for the Austrian emperor, in fact – who all his life has been unswervingly devoted to music, desiring nothing more than a God-given talent with which to astound the masses. Enter Mozart: undisciplined, uncouth, with a glib attitude to music in general, despite being brilliant. Really brilliant. Overcome by frustration and jealousy, Salieri vows to bring Mozart down. Seriously. You never thought classical music could be so freaking awesome. It’s a fantastic, tragic film, and F. Murray Abraham is equally fantastic as Salieri. Also, apparently Tom Hulce, who plays Mozart, based his erratic performance on Jon McEnroe, and I think that’s awesome.

Next year’s Out of Africa (1985) was another film I finally got around to watching last year. It’s about a German woman who is taken out to Africa in 1914 to start a coffee plantation – it follows how she undertook the operation of the plantation with no experience and no familiarity with the harsh realities of Africa. It’s got Robert Redford, Meryl Streep, Africa, music, syphilis...quite an epic, and it’s got this lovely languid, golden movement, which is there to reflect the philosophies of African versus European people. Directed by the late, great Sydney Pollock. It’s quite a commitment, but worth taking a look at.

Yet another real-life-adapted film, it’s 1986’s Platoon. Talk about committing. Fairly intense, with one of the most indelible images in cinema, starring Willem Defoe. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about I don’t know what to tell you (hint, it's pictured over there on the left). Anyway, it’s about war. War is bad. But really, we all know that, so what this is really about is how to keep your moral certainty, how to define yourself, in a place and situation that’s about as horrible as it gets. Charlie Sheen, Defoe, Tom Berenger, John C. McGinley and a very young Johnny Depp feature in Oliver Stone’s semi-autobiographical masterpiece. It’s not a fun movie.

Good lord. Only two to go. I’m losing the ability to focus. I’m just saying.

Also not a “fun” movie, despite an amusing scene about an Australian airline, it’s 1988’s Rain Man, where Dustin Hoffman was awesome, and before Tom Cruise went mad. Again, it’s Hoffman’s performance that makes this film: apparently the character wasn’t even supposed to be autistic before Hoffman brought it up...this is an odd idea, considering how central the autism plot is, and I’m not sure it wasn’t made up.

Lastly, but not least, we come to Driving Miss Daisy, from 1989, and I’ve never seen this film without tearing up (ohh, remember when Morgan Freeman got decent roles?). Turns out it was based on real people, but it also has some lovely performances. A word about the posters. See, here were a bunch of really dramatic and artistic ideas. Now it’s all artistic underneath and massive headshots at the top. I don’t approve.

Well, finally, that’s it. I’m going to bed. I should say I’ve changed the settings so that comments are now allowed on this blog, so please feel free to tell me to shut up. I’ll think about it.

I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint.
--- F. Murray Abraham – Amadeus ---

In which there are a lot of different Newmans

2009-02-05T17:45:00.000-08:00

Captain’s Log: 6 February
Last movie watched: Cool Hand Luke (completely flipped out – there’s a scene where they’re tarring the road where the score is – and I SWEAR this is true – the theme song for the National Nine News. Seriously. Whose idea was that? Because nothing says authority in newstelling like a chain gang?)

Song currently stuck in head: The Baywatch theme song. Don’t judge me.

I feel I should have come up with a different, or at least more significant song for the above, seeing as today’s oblog is about the awards for Best Original Song and Original Score. I suppose a case could be made for the idea that the only reason “I’ll Be There” didn’t win an Oscar was because it was used on a TV show and not a movie. Maybe.

Ok, so these are two of my favourite categories, largely because I finally feel like I know what I’m talking about. Doesn’t always work out with the winner, or Thomas Newman would’ve won about a million times by now (seriously, listen to the theme from How To Make An American Quilt). But most of the time I can find something redeeming, even if it's only sheer awe at anyone who can put an orchestration together. What confuses me is the term “original”. Several composers have been nominated for scores that derive heavily from their own previous work. Don’t believe me? Listen to the scores for The Ghost and the Darkness and LA Confidential, and then you tell me that Jerry Goldsmith wasn’t plagiarising his own work. It doesn’t really bother me, but I do wonder how it’s justified. Anyway. Needless to say I shall be rooting for Mr Newman (nominated for a lovely score in WALL*E), and also A.R Rahman for Slumdog Millionaire.

Now. Songs. I adore this category. How can you not love a category whose nominees have included Elton John, Burt Bacharach and Alan Menken, as well as Eminem, U2 and The Counting Crows. I like the capability here to really go for something weird and wonderful. And yes, when they choose something I don’t agree with, I get mad. Case in point: Randy Newman, and my preoccupation with his Song. Well, they gave him an Oscar a couple of years ago, so maybe he’ll be content and leave me alone.

Quite fortuitous that some of the movies in the 1970s had some great music behind them. Take 1973’s The Sting, one of my all-time favourite movies, and my favourite Redford/Newman (another Newman!) vehicle. Scott Joplin’s “The Entertainer” underscores a rollicking good yarn about fleecing the rich evil guys. Tremendously entertaining and with fantastic performances from Newman (rarely will you find a better performance within a performance than his card game) and Redford (my, he was young). It's smart but not overproduced, and so much fun. I love the period-ness of it all. The poster, the costumes, the sets...all of it spot on.

So we’ve reached a bit of an awkward part. I’ve seen both 1972’s The Godfather and 1974’s The Godfather Part 2, but whatever it is that makes people plotz over these films...well, they just didn’t get me. I’m willing to acknowledge that so many people are in love with them that there must be something extraordinary about them. And the music is definitely one of those memorable tunes. Daaaa, dadada daa...da daaaaa. You know. The plot is your basic multi-level epic mafia family thing (read: pretty darn good) and it’s got a packload of great actors (Pacino, Brando, Caan, Duvall...). I'm not sure I remember much of the second movie, and I do remember vividly some little scenes of the first. The horse's head. Tomato sauce (?). A phone booth riddled with bullets. Oranges. Sounds just odd enough to be sinister, yes?

My word they were suckers for black and white posters in the 70s. Moving on to 1975’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Anti-authoritarian Randall P. McMurphy is admitted to a psychiatric hospital, presided over by one terrifying nurse (Louise Fletcher, being awesome). It becomes a battle of wills between these two powerhouses: fiery exuberance on one side, icy quiet determination on the other. It was the second of only three movies to win the Big Five (remember we talked about It Happened One Night? You'll be quizzed on this later...) Oscars, and one of Jack Nicholson’s most indelible roles. Special appearances from Danny DeVito, Christopher Lloyd and Brad Dourif. Apparently Ken Kesey, the author of the book upon which it was based, hated the movie. Writers are weird.

Last of all, it’s Annie Hall (rhymes!), Woody Allen’s 1977 film about a nervy, neurotic guy named Alvy, and his obsession with a woman named Annie Hall. As distinguished from the other Woody Allen movies featuring a nervy, neurotic guy with an obsession. It’s sort of classic Allen, with rambling discussions on the nature of things, and was one of the first movies to use the “breaking of the fourth wall” technique. Its tagline is "A new comedy", which is, I suppose, an attainable goal... It’s also fairly famous for introducing the “Annie Hall look”, which I think was really Diane Keaton’s own fashion sense. That being, in a nutshell, pants.

Well, I think we’ve learned something today, and I’m well on my way to becoming a hermit, so I should probably try to get outside for a minute or two.

Not long to go now...

[on being presented with Luca Brasi’s bullet-proof vest, wrapped around a fish]
“It's a Sicilian message. It means Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes.”
--- Richard S. Castellano – The Godfather ---

Those crafty Sicilians.

In which I explain my theory about gazebos

2009-01-31T04:48:00.000-08:00

Captain's Log: February 1
Last movie watched: The Best Years of Our Lives (and that makes 45!)
Song currently stuck in head: Crazy In Love by Beyonce

Welcome to Part 2 of our discussion on 1960s Best Picture Winners Which I Have Seen, or “The 60s: They’re Back!”. Today’s omail (or oblog?) is brought to you by the Academy Awards for Costume, Makeup and Art Direction, or the Period Film’s Best Friends. The main contenders across all like awards seem to be Benjamin Button, Revolutionary Road and The Dark Knight. The only name I’ve heard of in any of these categories is Catherine Martin, Costume Designer for Australia, and so she can’t be discounted. (No, not just because I’ve heard of her, but because I’ve heard of her because she’s good at what she does.) I’m thinking...probably Benjamin Button.

I like the costume awards. I like seeing the sketches to see how closely they end up matching to the finished product. Also I like hearing about how much research and detail went into it all. I remember hearing about Road To Perdition, when the costume designer searched high and low for fabric that would have existed in 1931 Chicago. It’s commitment, at the very least.

Speaking of costumes, especially those made out of drapes and fashioned into cute little Austrian lederhosen, it’s time to talk about 1965’s classic, The Sound of Music. It’s so catchy, and who, when perched on an Austrian hilltop, wouldn’t just want to break into song? No one, that’s who. This film also contains the basis for what I call the “gazebo moment”. It’s the moment in a musical where I really start to lose interest. In this film, it was when the adults (Maria and Captain Von Trapp) dance about in the gazebo. I was bored. All that kissy-kissy silliness. More lederhosen! Other gazebo moments include that guy falling in love with Eliza in My Fair Lady, and the “gotta dance” number in Singing In the Rain. In fact the only musical I can think of that doesn’t have a gazebo moment is Mary Poppins. It’s 100% goodness, probably helped by me being too ignorant to know what to think about Dick Van Dyke’s cockney accent.

But back to the movie at hand. Says here that while the Von Trapp family ends up hiking over the hills to Switzerland, in reality they “Walked to the nearest train station”. Well jeez. No one’s gonna write a song about that. Where’s that lonely goat herd when you need him? My favourite of the kids was always Kurt. You know, the one who says “I wonder what grass tastes like?” I feel I would have gotten along well with him.

Moving on. Oh goody. It’s one of my favourite films ever. It’s A Man for All Seasons, from 1966, which follows the trial of Sir Thomas More, childhood friend of Henry VIII, who was sentenced to death for refusing to say he agreed with Henry’s divorce and subsequent marriage to Anne Boelyn. The best part about this film is that it doesn’t matter what you think about divorce and remarriage. It’s the conviction and strength that More displays in refusing to sell his faith. It's the inspiration you feel from watching a person refuse to do what is easy versus what is right. And Paul Scofield – let us not kid ourselves, this guy is fantastic. The whole film is just another example of filmmakers caring enough about their material to make it well.

OOH! This just in: Frank Langella (ie, the guy who should win Best Actor for his role in Frost/Nixon) is playing More in the upcoming Broadway play! Woo!

But check this out:

"I do none harm, I say none harm, I think none harm. And if this be not enough to keep a man alive, in good faith I long not to live."

I mean...wow. They just don’t talk like that anymore. Of course, much as I adore this film (and I really do), there is also this:

“It is so often the way, too late one thinks of what one should have said. Sir Thomas More, for instance, burned alive [untrue] for refusing to recant his Catholicism, must have been kicking himself, as the flames licked higher, that it never occurred to him to say...'I recant my Catholicism’.”

Brilliant.

Next! It’s Sidney Poitier’s favourite of his films (and you'll see why), 1967’s In the Heat of the Night. Another favourite, one I saw on a damaged print, so it came out...sorta pink. Nevertheless, it’s a strong story about racial tensions and prejudice in America, and Sidney is amazing. Its most famous scene is probably the part where Rod Steiger takes Sidney for a likely suspect (ie, black), and ends up discovering that the latter is in fact a respected detective from Philadelphia (otherwise known as the “They CALL me MISTER TIBBS” scene), but its most important scene is the one where, questioning a wealthy, white local, the man slaps Sidney in the face. And then Sidney slaps him right back. Apparently the script originally had Sidney’s character not reacting to being slapped, but Sidney, whose father had instilled in him values that he was no one’s inferior, felt that this was stupid (but in more eloquent language), and demanded that he react realistically. Ok, boil it all down and it's "Some guy slaps Sidney Poitier who slaps him back", but think about the time: it was a BIG DEAL. And man, was it worth the fight.

We have two more films to run through, first of which is 1968’s Oliver! (Oh yes, WITH the exclamation mark.) A chirpy little story about orphans, thieves, murder, and a crusty old man named Fagin. I enjoyed this movie a lot, largely due to Jack Wild’s portrayal of the Artful Dodger, also the songs are darn catchy. Its gazebo moment is a little one, but it’s when Nancy’s singing “As Long As He Needs Me”. Mushy grownup stuff. This was the only G-rated film ever to win Best Picture! Good lord, they’re a depraved little bunch over there at the Academy. It’s not, possibly, the most realistic depiction of orphan life, and hang on, there’s a murder in it, but...oh well. Kids have got to learn sometimes.

Moving from the only G-rated Best Picture winner to the only X-rated Best Picture winner: the following year’s (1969...tellingly) Midnight Cowboy. Ah, the hooker with a heart of gold. Naive young man puts on a cowboy outfit and travels to New York to begin his life as a...er...kept man. Let me tell you now, this is not a favourite film of mine (and Jon Voight ain't no Julia Roberts). In fact the only thing stopping it from joining Gigi at the bottom of the heap is Dustin Hoffman’s heartbreaking performance as Ratso Rizzo. It’s really astonishing. Also, this film made the line “I’m walkin’ here!” the perfect comeback to inconsiderate drivers. It’s also the first time the word “scuzzy” was used.

Hilarious piece of trivia: one studio executive said “If we could clean this up and add a few songs, it could be a great vehicle for Elvis Presley!” AHAHAHAH!

Also, this: The only X rated movie shown to a US President while in office.

Oh, I am SO sure...

And that’s it from me, chickadees!

Norfolk: "Oh confound all this. I'm not a scholar, I don't know whether the marriage was lawful or not but dammit, Thomas, look at these names! Why can't you do as I did and come with us, for fellowship!"
More: And when we die, and you are sent to heaven for doing your conscience, and I am sent to hell for not doing mine, will you come with me, for fellowship?
--- Nigel Davenport, Paul Scofield - A Man For All Seasons ---

In which Brad Pitt qualifies as a "special effect"

2009-01-30T21:47:00.000-08:00

Captain’s Log: 31 January
Last movie watched: Cape Fear (the original, with Gregory Peck and Robert Mitchum)
Song currently stuck in head: See below.

Hey mama welcome to the 60s! Oh oh oh oh ohhhohhhohhh.

Well, we’re moving on up the decades, and things like the Screen Actors Guild Awards have been announced (winners are Sean Penn for Milk, Meryl Streep for Doubt, Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight and Kate Winslet for The Reader. It doesn’t help an awful lot, since Winslet was a Supporting Actress in the SAG awards and is nominated for Leading Actress for the Oscars). The Producer’s Guild Awards have given Slumdog Millionaire and Wall*E top honours, while the various critics awards are tending towards Slumdog (though not overwhelmingly), Anne Hathaway in Rachel Getting Married, and a toss-up between Sean Penn and Mickey Rourke for best Actor.

Today’s Oscar topic is the awards relating to Sound, Sound Effects and Visual Effects. As usual, I know very little about the technicalities of these awards, and my expertise is limited to “wow, that looks/sounds cool!” I like the chances for Wall*E on Sound Effects, though, since it actually used junk yard items to create various characters' voices. Nominees for Visual Effects are Benjamin Button, The Dark Knight and Iron Man. Two for explosions and fancy iron suits, and one for making Brad Pitt look like a very tiny, very old man (pictured). Previous winners in this category include Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Doctor Doolittle (one assumes that was for the giant snail, and not Rex Harrison). Basically, something needs to have been created that could not possibly have been filmed. In other words, Brad Pitt himself is not a special effect, but a very small, old Mr Pitt fits the bill.

But back to the swinging 60s – can you believe I’ve seen all but ONE of the Best Picture winners? Today’s sermon will begin with Billy Wilder’s 1960 classic, The Apartment.

(Sidebar, so last omail I forgot to talk about 1956’s The King And I, but then I’m not sure anyone really cares. Does anyone read these? Hello? Bueller? The hell with it. All you need to know is this: Yul Brynner did as he always has done, and kicked ass.)

[Second sidebar: what the heck am I talking about? That movie didn't win Best Picture, which may be why I didn't mention it in the first place. Clearly I shouldn't be putting "attention to detail" on my resume]

So, The Apartment stars Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine and Fred MacMurray (oh yes, that guy, from My Three Sons). It was remade by Amy Heckerling as Loser (although none of the trivia sites say this, I’m sticking to it. I’m probably just smarter than them...or something), but in its originalform it was gorgeously done. A corporate slave lends his apartment to his boss, who uses it as a love nest to “meet up” with his mistress (MacLaine), whom Lemmon is secretly in love with. Jack Lemmon delivers Billy Wilder’s beautiful lines like he was born to (Kevin Spacey, on winning his Oscar for American Beauty, dedicated his award to Jack Lemmon's performance in this film), and though it’s a simple story, it was made back in the day when they did simple stories really well.

The opposite of the simple story is the following winner, set in the good old days of New York, where the graffiti was legible and the gangs danced and whistled. It’s 1961’s West Side Story. Notable in my household as one of only two films that my mother has walked out of (the other being Blazing Saddles, although I can't imagine why). It’s basically Romeo and Juliet with half the deaths and 90% more dancing. But you have to admire the person who thinks “This Shakespeare play...bet I could turn it into modern day New York gang warfare. But you know what would make it better?” Apparently the answer was a lot of clicking and whistling and calling people “Daddy-o”. Nicknames like “Big Deal” and “A-Rab”, described in Wikipedia as “the weary one of the gang”. Here’s B-Side! The diabetic of the gang! Keeping it real, man.

But even bigger than this (seriously? You ask. Bigger than “Daddy-o”?) was the movie that was, while not bigger than Ben Hur (it’s six minutes shorter), was at least sandier. 1962’s Lawrence of Arabia was the sandiest thing to hit the movies until The English Patient came along in the late 90s. Peter O’Toole was the title character who, as Noel Coward said later, if he was any prettier, “would have been called Florence of Arabia”. Gotta give it Noel, though. Look at him there in the poster. He was the 1960s version of the Pretty Boy.

The film also stars Anthony Quinn, Alec Guinness, Claude Rains and renowned master bridge player Omar Sharif, whose entrance is one of the most awesome in movie history. In fact, when they were introduced, O’Toole decided that “No one is called Omar Sharif”, and insisted on calling him “Fred” instead.

So it's about real-life T.E. Lawrence, who led the Arabian army in their battles agains the Turks. The main complaints about the film portrayal seem to centre around the fact that O'Toole was about 9 inches taller than Lawrence. I think some people have missed the point of movies.

We’ll do one more before I let you go. I mentioned it last week as the better example of Pygmalion – better than Gigi, anyway. My Fair Lady, 1964, starred Julie Andrews in the stage version, but the studios (read: source of all evil on earth) decided she wasn’t pretty enough for the movies, and cast Audrey Hepburn instead. Sigh. Nevermind. Andrews went and starred in Mary Poppins instead and won herself an Oscar. So ner. Not that Ms Hepburn is bad. She’s quite good, especially as at one point she has to sport one of the most ridiculous hairstyles I’ve seen. The songs are memorable, Rex Harrison does his speaking-rather-than-singing thing, demanding that he be allowed to record his songs live, rather than dub them over later, marking the first time wireless microphones were used during filming. Woo! Interestingly the ending is completely different from the original play, but I’m not going to spoil it for you.

"Ya know, I used to live like Robinson Crusoe; I mean, shipwrecked among 8 million people. And then one day I saw a footprint in the sand, and there you were."
--- Jack Lemmon - The Apartment ---

In which they don't have enough lepers in movies anymore

2009-01-27T21:00:00.000-08:00

Captain's Log: 28th January

Last movie watched: Burn After Reading (Why, oh why, do they not let Brad Pitt do this kind of stuff more often?)

Song currently in head: I've Just Seen A Face by the Beatles

So, here we are in the 1950s, where I have seen four of the Best Picture winners, which marks a record so far. It was a BIG decade for movies, too, or a decade for BIG movies. Case in point: 1953’s From Here to Eternity. The Pearl Harbour movie that kicks Pearl Harbour’s ass. Monty Clift, Frank Sinatra, Ernest Borgnine and Burt Lancaster, being manly and getting into fights over women in the lead up to the Japanese bombing on the Pacific. It’s not singing praise for the US army (despite apparently being rewritten so as to paint it in a less-disturbing light), but it’s most famous for one of film’s most enduring (and controversial) shots – Deborah Kerr and Lancaster’s beach kiss – and for showing that Frank Sinatra could act, baby. Sinatra picked up an Oscar for his performance, the getting of which was also, incidentally, the role which apparently inspired the “make him an offer he can’t refuse” bit in The Godfather (you know, right before the horse’s head turns up?).

What else? How about 1958’s Gigi, to which unfortunately I say “meh”. It’s about a young French girl who is tomboy-ish and being trained in the art of being a Lady (capital L), which seems to involve a lot of wine sipping and cigar smelling (seriously). It’s drawn a lot from things like My Fair Lady, but the songs and characters are (to me) not all that memorable. One character, for example, spends an awful lot of the movie complaining about how bored he is with everything and how girls are a bore, and theatre is a bore, and eating is a bore...so much that one begins to start to think the same about the film one is watching. Ha, though. Favourite piece of trivia involves the inclusion of a cat, which took exception to the leading lady. Hence kitty was heavily drugged. At least someone was having a good time. Good review excerpt: “[Gigi] leads the cast in a contest to see who can be the most French. The winner is Chevalier [who is, well, French, genius]…” But all the same, people apparently loved it, so...they’re obviously not thinking.

Next! 1957’s Bridge on the River Kwai, in which a troop (squad? gaggle?) of British soldiers are imprisoned in a Japanese POW camp, including their Colonel (Alec Guiness, being awesome), who takes his pride and patriotism a little too far. Massive sets, massive characters...it’s fairly long, but then it’s quite a feat of engineering. Time to get pissed off at a lot of characters, a lot of countries, and in the end, it’s all about the explosion. Ka-POW!!!!

And now my favourite of the 1950s, but ironically. It’s the film nothing is really bigger than, or they’d change the saying. It’s 1959’s Ben Hur. Woo! Oh, Mr Heston, you raving gun nut you. But look at that jawbone! Ok, so here's the plot: a Jewish prince is betrayed by a friend and his mother and sister are captured and he is drafted into slavery and then the boat he’s rowing on is attacked and then he rescues an important guy and then there’s pretty horses and a CHARIOT RACE and then Jesus shows up and there are LEPERS! Everywhere! I mean if there was one thing missing from Lord of the Rings, I think we can agree that it was the lack of lepers. Silly Tolkien.

It won 11 Oscars, equalled only by Titanic and the Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. It’s also the only religious Hollywood film, apparently, that the Vatican has liked. Which maybe says something more about how Hollywood handles religion than it does about the Vatican. There seem to be about ten thousand “making of” documentaries, and a bucketload of trivia. My favourite of which is:

[of the water in the boat sequence] it was too brown and murky...they finlly found some dye that would make the water blue. During one of the battle scenes, an extra who fell into the water and spent too much time there turned blue, and was kept on the MGM payroll until it wore off.

Reason for insurance claim: turned blue.

And let’s talk about the chariot race. WOW. That’s actually Charlton Heston on there, by the way – he learned while making the film, and while yes, the people getting run over are dummies (or so they say, in fact Wikipedia says the filmmakers stressed that “no serious injuries or deaths” occurred during the scene...just incidental deaths, then), there’s still an awful lot of people and horses running around at high speed. Sheesh! No CGI, either. Uh huh.

I also love the enduring rumours that the script was rewritten at one point to have the scenes between Judah Ben-hur and Messala a little more, well, gay (otherwise known as "probably historically accurate"). It was apparently a strong requirement that Charlton Heston never be made aware of this intention. But I mean...oiled-up men in the bathhouse...come on.

As for the Oscars, we reach the award for Best Foreign Film. I’ve seen I’ve Loved You So Long, which was unfortunately not included, and so I feel that all my hard work (and, you know, that of the filmmakers and actors) was for nothing. Pssh. Most awards seem to be going to Waltz With Bashir, by all accounts quite remarkable, but you can never tell with this category. Pan’s Labyrinth, for instance, won Oscars for make-up, art direction and cinematography, but for whatever reason did not win for Foreign Film (maybe if it had included more lepers...). Admittedly it lost to The Lives of Others, which I suppose we can’t really quibble about, so that makes this entire point kind of...pointless. Are you really surprised?

"Let's go to a phone booth or something, huh? Where I will unveil a fifth of whiskey, I have hidden here under my loose, flowing sports shirt."

(now there's a pickup line)

--- Frank Sinatra - From Here to Eternity ---

In which I'm amazingly on-track

2009-01-25T19:51:00.000-08:00

Captain's Log: 26 January

Last movie watched: Nanny McPhee (shut up, I like kids' movies)

Song currently in head: "Won't You Come Home Bill Bailey". Don't ask why.

Today, dear ones, our lecture is about the 1940s, during which a number of films won the Best Picture award, but unfortunately I've only seen one of them. I know. But it's a good one! In fact it's often cited as one of the best scripts ever written, not to mention appearing on about a million top ten lists. Yes, people, it's the movie that inspired The Usual Suspects. It's 1943's Casablanca.

Of all the gin joints in all the world... Humphrey Bogart is the owner of Rick's Cafe American in Casablanca, Morocco, and specialises in keeping out of everyone's way. Then his ex-girlfriend shows up with her husband, and they want him to conspire against the Nazis to help them escape. And she's still in love with him. And he's pissed at her. And he's in love with her. And she's in love with her husband. Corruption, Nazis, piano music, Ingrid Bergman and a love triangle. It's the sort of movie people are talking about when they say "They just don't make films like that anymore..." Not only is the story an interesting one, but the film itself is really interesting to watch. Despite having about a zillion writers and directors attached, this film manages to come away with a real art to it. The construction of the shots is all about story-telling, and the characters are well-rounded and well-expositioned. Ingrid Bergman looks magnificent, Claude Rains (one of my favourite Golden Age actors - case in point: "I learn the lines and pray to God") is fantastic, and the script is very smart. Found this piece of trivia:

Director Michael Curtiz's Hungarian accent often caused confusion on the set. He asked a prop man for a "poodle" to appear in one scene. The prop man searched high and low for a poodle while the entire crew waited. He found one and presented it to Curtiz, who screamed "A poodle! A poodle of water!"

Ahahaha.

Moving on up the Oscar list, today's topic is the Animated Feature. I'm so glad this is a regular fixture now, and I'm hanging out for WALL*E to pick up the award this year. It's such a gorgeous little film, with scant dialogue, beautiful animation and one of the cutest little robots since Johnny Five. It's also incredibly clever. Very little is ever said, and so it's quite a feat to get the nuances of emotion and subtleties and humour of the story across with visuals alone. The filmmakers not only researched Chaplin and Keaton, but they consulted with Roger Deakins (cinematographer for such films as The Man Who Wasn't There and Doubt, The Reader and Revolutionary Road) to see how he would light the scenes if it were live-action. Not to mention the sound effects.

You know what else I love about it? The closing credits, which are constructed out of an evolving series of different art periods and artist genres. And the highlighting of the best and simplest things about life on Earth. It's just altogether enchanting.

Oh films.

Captain Renault: Rick, there are many exit visas sold in this café, but we know that you've never sold one. That is the reason we permit you to remain open.

Rick: Oh? I thought it was because I let you win at roulette.

Captain Renault: That is another reason.

--- Claude Rains, Humphrey Bogart - Casablanca ---

In which it turns out Joseph Stalin had decent taste in movies!

2009-01-25T02:37:00.000-08:00

Captain's log: January 25
Last movie watched: Across the Universe (verdict: rather awesome)
Song currently in head: Run Around by Blues Traveller. Specifically the "Once upon a midnight dreary" part.

So lately I’ve been attempting to watch as many of the Best Picture Oscar winners as I can. I’ve got, let’s see...44 of 80 (yay, halfway!) which is nothing to be sneezed at (bless you!). And so I shall be educating you all on my favourite offerings from the various decades. And no, I haven’t seen any from the 1920s. And yes, the later decades are much more respectable, hit-wise, but I’m not made of money, and there’s no way I’m sitting through Olivier’s Hamlet. I’ve seen fifteen slooooow minutes of it, and I think that’s satisfactory (don’t worry, I’m not counting it as one of the 44).
Anyway. We begin with the 1930s. When films were finding their stride, colour was infiltrating the talkies (hell, they’d only just started talking) and apparently a lot of new boundaries were being broken. Of these I have seen two Best Picture winners, although one of those was Gone With The Wind, and so I think that’s worth 2 of itself. Longest film I’ve ever seen, or at the very least it felt as much, and though I was only eight when I saw it I’m fairly certain I got the gist, so no need to sit through that 222 minutes again.
Here goes:

A very disagreeable southern woman makes life difficult for a lot of people. At the end Clark Gable swears (GASP!).

Ok, yes, it’s probably more involved, and yes, I should probably treat it with more respect, considering how immensely popular it seems to be. And give it its due. It gave Hattie McDaniel an Oscar, for crying out loud (although her character, “Mammy”, has garnered some criticism for implying that all slaves were basically happy. Whee! Racism!). It also has a legacy of being very difficult to get off the ground – it went through several directors and scriptwriters, not to mention numerous casting possibilities. Its most famous line has its own Wikipedia page. (No kidding! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frankly,_my_dear,_I_don%27t_give_a_damn) Apparently a lot of decision making went into the use of the word “damn”, and whether it was appropriate. It was finally decided that since it was quoting the novel, it was ok. We’ve certainly come a long way.

Speaking personally my favourite summation comes from the Umbilical Brothers (in under 2 minutes, including intermission), and if anyone knows where I can download this skit, please notify me at once.

Onto the other film from the 1930s – it’s one of my very favourite films ever – 1934’s It Happened One Night, starring Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable (hello again!). Basically it’s about a spoiled heiress who goes on the run to escape an arranged marriage, and the newspaper reporter who tags along with her, looking for a story. Sounds almost formulaic now, but remember this was made in the 1930s. This created the formula, people! It’s witty and sweet and, according to the Library of Congress, “culturally, historically or aesthetically significant”. Those sentimental bastards.

It was the first of only three films to win all the “Big Five” awards at the Oscars – these being the Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress and Writing awards. The most famous bit of trivia is that during the “Walls of Jericho” scene (you don’t know it? Well watch it, people!...ok, it basically involved two single people of the opposite sex sharing a room (GASP) and constructing a partition out of a blanket. Look, I told you to watch it...) Clark Gable did not (as was the fashion) wear a vest under his shirt, since it was too complicated to do his lines while removing it. As a result, they say, undershirt sales plummeted, and manufacturers tried to sue.

Oh, and look! It’s one of Joseph Stalin’s favourite films! How could it not be awesome!?

While we're at it I should probably talk about the Oscars themselves. So we'll start with the awards that tend to get sandwiched between the more well known ones. These are the awards with the most entertaining titles.

Animated Short (pretty entertaining category, especially since Pixar shows up here quite a bit), Documentary Short (must be incredibly difficult to tell a decent story in a short time), Live Action Short and Documentary Feature (the most famous of which, really, is Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth). I'm notoriously bad at getting around to seeing these, although I have seen Animated Short nominee Presto. I give it two animated thumbs up. This year's favourite title is La Maison en Petits Cubes, for Animated Short film. I'm assuming it's French for "The House of the Little Cubes".

Brilliant.

"You show me a good piggy-backer and I'll show you a real human. Now you take Abraham Lincoln for instance. A natural born piggy-backer."
--- Clark Gable - It Happened One Night ---

In which the Oscar Nominations are out!!!

2009-01-22T19:41:00.000-08:00

They’re off!

Welcome to Omails 2009! The S.S.Oscar has been launched by the venerable Forest Whittaker, and Hugh Jackman is at the helm. I’m anticipating dance numbers. Dance! I still have a few to see (Revolutionary Road, Doubt, Milk, The Reader), so there’s going to be a lot to do between now and February 22 (or the 23rd here). I apologise, also, in advance, for this post, which is being written with a headache and a general tiredness, and so may show signs of both. But you can find all the 2009 nominations on http://www.imdb.com/. My reactions are as follows:

In which we are pleased:
That Robert Downey Jr has a nomination for Tropic Thunder. The entertainment value alone is going to be worth it. Also that Tom Cruise is not nominated for the same. He needs no encouragement.
That Taraji P. Henson is up for Benjamin Button.
That Thomas Newman is nominated for original score and song for Wall*E. Whee! Although I think he’s done better, I love seeing him up there.
That Heath Ledger is nominated. This is really what the Oscars are going to be about this year.
That Slumdog Millionaire has so many nominations. I’d be quite satisfied with that film winning Best Pic.
That Frank Langella is nominated for Frost/Nixon. As of this moment my favourite of the Best Actor nominees. Even though I’ve only seen two of them.

In which we are less than pleased:
Philip Seymour Hoffman. As usual.
That Kristen Scott Thomas and Sally Hawkins are nowhere to be seen.
Complete absence of original songs from the Chronicles of Narnia. Stupid 3-song rule.
That there are no acting nominations for Slumdog Millionaire.

So mostly it’s pleasing, but not necessarily incredibly exciting. Fewer “Whee!”s this year. This year’s Omails have a plan (a PLAN!) and for the first time will be displayed in blog form (this may end disastrously). The website is as follows: http://www.reasons-passing-understanding.blogspot.com/

I’ll be trying to update every couple of days, planning around my moving house (again, disaster may be imminent). So I wish you a very happy new President of the United States, and a merry Oscar race 2009.

Tootles!

Little bits and pieces

2008-09-15T21:17:00.000-07:00

So once all the more massive tenants have been dealt with, there are a number of itty bitty fellow creatures who need some care. They're referred to as "babies", and are just that. Animals that are too young or too sick to be in the wild, and need to be cared for on a regular basis. Let's take a look...

There's Grommet, the Bushbaby, who during the day resembles nothing so much as a pile of blankets in his little cage, but as the sun goes down a red-brown hand will reach out from under the blanket and stretch its little fingers wide as it wakes up. Out next are the curious nose and huge eyes, and at last, a bushy tail. He likes to grab hold of things - like your finger - and, when he's let out of the cage and into the cabin in the evening, to climb all over the drapes, furniture, and anyone else who happens to be in the way. He's gorgeous, and mostly friendly, this last hampered by a slight tendency to pee on people. Grommet will spend hours in your room grabbing hold of any small object and examining it in detail - and if you play with him you get a great visual of him on his hind legs, arms raised, stomping childishly towards you like a big bear - raaaarrrr!

They're not always cuddly, though. Also running around the cabins was Spike, a baby dassie who was as nimble as anything, despite resembling nothing so much as an angry guinea pig. Out in the cages, Captain, a wahlberg's eagle, gets fed a handful of cut-up chicks (oh believe me, I know) on the glove at the end of the day. He's definitely powerful, so having him clutched on your arm while his beak's about 20cm away from your eyes is kind of unnerving, but he's also beautiful to be so close to. Just not when he's spraying you with chick innards.

Behind Captain's cage are the porcupines, once apparently the size of, well, Spike, they're about as big as terriers now. Gorgeous, though, and when you give them a bit of corn they'll twitter their thanks. Their tongues are sandpaper-rough, and if you come up behind them while they're eating, they'll suddenly poof out their back ends into this big old ball of spikes, and shuffle around so that they've always got it pointed at you. Whee!

Also in that cage is Olly, the tiny wee scops owl. So while you're waiting for the porcu's to finish their meal, you can sit and feed Olly, by holding up a scrap of food and calling "Ollyollyolly!" Over he flies to perch on your hand while he takes the food and flies off somewhere to eat it.

But my favourite of the "babies", apart from the porcupines, are a couple of animals not entirely fascinating, but just about as cute as can be. To wit: bunnies and squirrels! The baby bunnies are so tame they're allowed to run around in my bedroomin the evening, chewing on my dirty laundry and leaving their...er...leavings all over the place. But if I call them, they'll come hopping out from under the bed or wherever they may be, to be cuddled. Kiwi is aptly named - colouring is just like the kiwi skin, and he's very adventurous in climbing all over me to reach other parts of the room. His little ears are quite often lifted, and he has such a huge appetite at meal times that it's all I can do to keep him away from the milk so I can feed his sister, Skye. Skye is white with red eyes, and a little quieter than Kiwi. She will, however, often climb up my chest to nose around my face, giving me little rabbit kisses. I love them to pieces, and when I'm writing in my notebook they'll come crawling all over it to see what's going on: what's more adorable than us?

The squirrels are just as adorable. Tiny wee creatures, only just gaining control of their bodies, but quite able at this point to crawl over a human being who is lucky enough to help out with their feeding. They get syringes full of milk too, and they grab it with their front paws as though holding a long glass, sucking down the milk with little squeaks and grunts. Once they're done they'll collapse, bellies swollen, into your palm, sleeve or hood for a sleep. Best thing in the world? A sleepy, just-fed squirrel having his tummy rubbed: limbs spread, rolled onto the back, and just enjoying the heck out of it.

Bringing out the big guns...

2008-06-17T22:01:00.001-07:00

I wanted to see the lions.

I'd heard them roaring the first night I arrived...echoing yawns around the park that made it sound like they were right outside my window. And the big cats were the animals I was most intrigued by. Just had to find the buggers.

Outside the cottage where I sleep are, immediately, two of the smaller big cats: Shadow and Shade, the hyenas, next to them Xinandi, the female cheetah, and next over Jolly and Juba, the male cheetahs. We're told VERY early on, and quite frequently, not to give Shadow any opportunities to get a hold of any of our fingers, as legend has it she has already taken someone's finger off when they tried to stroke her through the bars. Fine with me...if only she didn't have such a sweet little face...

So while I stand with my hands clasped behind my back, there's time to examine the hyena. It really is an odd-looking creature -- the front part is quite large and hulking, and then quite suddenly it drops away into these tiny little hindquarters. The female is much larger than the male, and her head is very teddy-like, but the call they let out at night is really rather eerie. Not to mention the sound they make when they're chewing on impala bones...

Moving on, to the cheetahs. I love them. Loooove them. They're so graceful and beautiful and soft...ahem. The cheetahs are not exactly on the powerful side (although don't get me wrong, they could still kick my ass), but their weapon is speed. We get to see a demonstration in the parking lot where they let Jolly run off after a lure. It's incredible. I have to grab hold of him at the end, and even though he's paying most attention to the meat in front of him, it's clear that if he wasn't I'd have an interesting time holding him still.

At one point they bring Juba out for us to have a pat (I was SO. EXCITED.), and just having that great animal there in front of you, be able to feel all the muscles under his fur, the beautifully soft hank of spotted fur at his neck, and to have him licking your arm (and drawing a little bit of blood - man, those tongues are sharp!) -- was just the most amazing feeling. I fell completely in love.

Moving on, because otherwise that's where I'm going to stay...there are also 4 lions at the camp, and a great big leopard named Chui. Now you might be forgiven for expecting cheetahs and leopards to be similar in build, but you'd be wrong. Chui is unmistakably powerful, which is unfortunately why we can't go in with him (sigh). In fact, it's six of one as to whether he or the lions are carrying the most power. But Chui has been hand raised, and he still likes waddling over (let's be honest, he's carrying a bit of holiday weight) to lean against the fence and be scratched.

Over to the lions, and for sheer size and power it's Big Boy and Ditch up the back -- oh my WORD, they're huge. Every morning on the way to breakfast we pass them, and sometimes they're there at the fence, prowling, staring that gorgeous green-eyed stare...It becomes clear that they've got way too much muscle weight to be going anything as fast as the cheetahs, and this explains why they're the only big cat to hunt in prides. But man alive, you've got to respect that honey badger for giving it a go...

Over by Chui are Sarah and Blondie, who are ex circus lions. Blondie, in fact, has no teeth, owing to a rather horrible history of being caged, and then breaking his teeth on the bars. Sarah, however, is sheer power, and though she's unwell at the moment and so confined to a smaller cage, she really, REALLY doesn't like it when you bring brooms to clean out the one next to her. Something about the brooms and the circus, I would guess, is recalling something particularly nasty.

Back down to Xinandi, who is the one big cat that we are frequently allowed in with, and who is calm enough to let us go up to her alone and give her a good old pat. And when you're crouching down rubbing the head of a cheetah, and the cheetah is purring her rumbling contented purr...well.

PS -- Important safety tip: when scratching the cheetahs through the fence (which is allowed among the staff, but only advised if the animal is purring), make DAMN sure you're not kneeling on the electric fence wire. It HURTS.

Honey badger maintenance

2008-06-12T21:38:00.000-07:00

Routine at the wildlife centre started pretty quickly. Up at 10-to-7, wash face, dress (what to wear, what to wear...thankfully this decision is rendered moot by the requirement to dress always in the camp t-shirt, which ranges from khaki to...darker-khaki), grab camera and a bottle of water and hot-foot it up the hill to the clinic, where we begin our daily rounds.

We're in one of four groups, and mine is in charge of feeding and cleaning the cages of the following:

Honey badgers (excellent value)
Wild dogs (would have been more exciting had we been able to go in the cage)
Mixed Vultures (here's one I would have preferred not to enter the cage of)
White faced owls
Guinea Fowl

It starts like this: first we scuffle round to see who wants to do what (mostly it's between the badgers and the dogs, and all the birds together). I'm not a bird person, so let's start with the badgers.

Bucket, brush, broom, trowel, and 20 dead one-day-old chicks covered in calcium powder. Mmmmm. Helloooo breakfast. Hopefully the chicks are defrosted, so we don't have to do that whole fill-bowl-with-water-and-poke-at-chicks-until-they-feel-squidgy part ourselves. Trot on down the hill to the badgers' enclosure, wherein reside two little specimens: Stoffel (the male) and Hammy (female). Stoffel is tricksy and slippery and aggressive to boot, so we're not allowed to touch him much. Hammy, however, is mostly friendly, though you have to watch out, because she loves getting out of the enclosure too. She's my favourite, and I like to reach down and let her grab hold of my hand and pull herself up by her tiny, powerful shoulders. Sometimes I let her hang onto the edge of the wall while I scratch her, and once while I was sitting on the wall she grabbed hold of my sneaker, and while it was fun at first, it soon became clear that she was planning to climb up my leg, and then it was all: GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!

Once we've thrown a few chicks to the badgers and they're busy ripping the heads off, we shut them off in one half of the enclosure, jump the wall and start cleaning. Poo-picking, scrubbing the walls to get their paw-marks off, and cleaning out the water bowl. Also, and we'll take note at this one, making sure you don't dong your head on the thick wooden beam that forms part of the back shelter. This is easier to do than you would have thought.

Once you've recovered from the little cartoon badgers running around your field of vision, it's time to switch, switch, switch! Up and out, move the badgers, tempt them with some cleverly placed chicks, close them off and then it's lather, rinse, repeat in the second half. In the meantime you get to reach down and grab hold of Hammy's paw and watch as she tries to climb up your arm to get out. Hammy is occasionally allowed out of the enclosure, but Stoffel is pretty much not, especially since he managed, using a stick, to climb out himself and into the lion cage. I didn't see it, but I'm told that once Stoffel got a good hold on Big Boy's privates, it was a pretty even fight. Hardy little creatures, them honey badgers.

The Wild Dogs are less taxing -- just fill up their water bowl and swimming pool, really, and don't put your fingers through the fence. Check! Just a quick hello to Taz, who is by himself, poor bugger, as he's broken his back and is not fit to run with the pack. He's a skittish little thing, but very sweet.

Back up at the birds, the mixed vultures (the party mix of the animal world) need their enclosure scrubbed -- all that poo off the stumps, trees, rocks etc, and the water pools need to be scrubbed, emptied and refilled. Then do a feather-pick (absolute waste of time, considering how many feathers there are in there) and rake, all the while making sure you don't on any occasion look like you're dead. Holding a rake is a good idea, especially since in the mornings they like to stretch their wings out to warm them, and this makes them look about ten times more threatening. Then we gather up our stuff and make a run for the door. Woo!

Off to the white faced owls, who need very little maintenance. Quick scrub, couple of dead chicks (as food, not dead owl chicks) and a peek inside the next to see whether mum has given birth yet. She hasn't, and doesn't like you staring at her. Hooooo.

Through the cage are the guinea fowls -- silly looking birds with beautiful blue feathers on their chests (though they're pretty tame, they're also hanging on to those feathers pretty tightly, so good luck trying to pull one out). They need their floor raked, poo picked, and feed and water checked. Also you'll need to poke at them every now and then with the rake just to move them along. A quick check for eggs (none!) and you're done!

Phew! After this it's off on a ten-minute hike through the jungle to breakfast, which, surrounded by little grey monkeys who are after the fruit (people are obliged to throw cutlery every now and then to keep them off the food), is completely worth it. A feast of yoghurt and all-bran, a couple of bits of bacon, and it's back into the jungle for the uphill walk home.

Going bush...

2008-05-25T22:44:00.000-07:00

Once Cape Town's journey came to a close, and I was suitably done with adventuring, I toddled off to places unknown (no, really -- the booking company told me on the morning of departure that I wasn't going to the place I'd booked at, rather at some other place 8 hours to the north-east, near the Kruger). Since I hadn't planned on going to any malaria regions, I was a little apprehensive, but some complimentary malaria tablets were shoved into my hand, my luggage squeezed into a car, and away we went.

The drive was uneventful for the first half as we traversed the upper veldt -- it's dry and flat and very much featureless -- so I slept for most of it, waking periodically as we were told to drink! Drink! Drink! They're big on drinking (water, that is) in South Africa. This, as I was to discover later, was not without good reason. At any rate, we soon reached the lower veldt, and that's where everything started too look pretty amazing.

It was all looking really green and lush, mountains sprouting up here and there, and great rocky cliffs lining the road. Ahead, a massive grey cloud hung over the Drakensberg Mountains, lit up every few seconds by forks of lightning that crackled through it. The other side of that, I was told, was my destination. Awesome.

The rest of the drive was beautiful -- a vastly different view of Africa than I'd seen in Cape Town and my brief overnight stay in Johannesburg. From green mountains to rocky gullies, where tree roots took hold of the outside of the rock and climbed for their lives skyward, to deep flat dry valleys, spotted with bush huts and where the roads were lined with children making their long, long, long way home from school. As we drew closer to the camp we passed block after block of private game reserves, and at one point, and a shout of "BABOONS!" we slowed to let this group of bare-backsided creatures gambol across the road, frowning suspiciously at as as we passed. Then, "GIRAFFES!" off to the left! Three of them inside the fence of the game reserve, picking at the high leaves of the acacia trees and eyeing us curiously. I felt like I'd really gotten into -- or at least closer to -- what Africa really was.

As the light faded and we dodged the odd rainfall, we made it to the camp, deep in the centre of a reserve, passing kudu and the ever-present impala (not the car), all the way up to the gates, outside of which stood a great grey rhino...I was to see more of him later.

Inside the gates I was met by the centre's "student" liaison, and a couple of bush pigs, Mona and Lisa, who quickly took a liking to my luggage. Apparently they're quite partial to it, as a whole, and so I trundled, first at a trot, then as my pursuers kicked it up a notch, into a full-blown run (which in hindsight was probably the dumbest thing I could have done), down the dusty path with my incredibly unsuitable wheelie-bag, to the safety of the cottages. On the way I passed three cheetahs (in cages) and a hyena (also, and thank heaven, caged), and some odd little guinea-pigs-gone feral that I would later identify as dassies. In my room there were four teeny baby rabbits and a couple of baby squirrels (of which I'll also speak later). It wasn't all going to keep being so amazing, but for now I'll leave it so.

The sun dipped over the mountains and twilight descended.

Getting serious

2008-05-20T20:52:00.000-07:00

You can't go to Africa and not see it. It's not an attraction, rather an inevitability, and it's there, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. For us it was right next door, even in front of us, while we went to work. I'm talking about poverty.

There were suggestions floating around the house of a township tour, which to me sounded initially insensitive. It seemed wrong to go to the homes of poor people as though it was tourism. The thing I decided in the end, though, was that to get an idea of Africa as a whole, you've got to encounter its scars. Look at District 6, which used to be an interracial area full of blacks, coloureds, whites, Malay, etc. Until apartheid (still only 14 years ago!) meant that the area was evacuated of any people of colour and declared a white-only living space.

We knew that walking to work each day we would brush against the Site 5 township -- now called Masiphumelele ("we will succeed, in Xhosa) -- 30-40% of its 50,000 inhabitants were living with HIV, and all on top of each other.

Our tour was regrettably voyeuristic for the most part -- us in the van trying not to look as though we were taking photos, but unable to resist it when we saw the children. They were beautiful, standing in front of the most appalling conditions, but as soon as they caught your eye they would break out into a wide-mouthed, white-toothed smile, and it was impossible not to smile and wave back, and open the window to chat to them and show them the photos you just took. The acrid smell of roasting sheeps heads and corn would drift over the road, and tin shebeens would almost shake with the amount of people inside. Of course, just as you began to relax a little too much, there was a shout from our driver, who rolled up his window and put his foot down hard on the accellerator -- we all looked to the left to see the flash of a machete as it was weilded in a knife fight further up a side-street. That's the kind of thing that reminds you you're in a totally different world.

To counter that experience, however, we were shuffled along and out of the van (thank heavens) to listen to street performers and dance with the children along the side of a road. It's the cheerfulness and the love that shoots up in little pockets in those townships that make you really stare. The fact that love can survive or even flourish amongst those conditions, and the sense of community that means all these people would band together to help one another.

My perspectives on life were being shifted significantly.

Horses, horses, horses, horses...

2008-05-19T18:04:00.000-07:00

In every new country I visit, it doesn't take long for me to start hankering to see its surroundings via horseback. And so not too far into my stay in Cape Town I found one place that did rides along the beach at sunset; after a quick scout to get fellow adventurers to come along, I was in!

The horses looked really well cared for, which is always a lovely sign. Occasionally they can look like they've been run too much on too little food, but these were lovely creatures. Mine was called Habana, and had, like the others, an eastern saddle. Thank heavens. Nothing more uncomfortable than a stock saddle, or (ironically enough) an endurance saddle. Or maybe I've just had my rear molded into an eastern fit.

Anyway. Off we went, starting along the roads towards the beach. There were about 10 of us, and only one guide, which was a little unsettling, especially given that the two people I'd gone with hadn't ridden before and were a little nervous. I hung around the back with my friends to keep an eye on them. Then two boys went by on skateboards, and a woman up the front who had professed to be a rider lost control of her horse, which backed into the one behind it, which in turn backed into one of my friend's horse, who (quite naturally) freaked out. I'll say this, though. Given how scared she was and how new to riding, it was the most graceful fall I've ever seen. She hung on until the last possible moment and then just sort of stepped off, not even stumbling over.

Then (and I'm a little ashamed to admit I'm proud of this) I swung into action...

(SWAGGER!)

...and went after her horse, which had bolted into a nearby driveway, shooed it back towards the others, then rode back to the girl and jumped off to give her a big hug for being so brave (she really was, especially that given how scared she was, and once she'd calmed down she jumped right back on the horse!). Meanwhile, completely negating any selfless acts of compassion, I. Felt. Awesome. WOO! The truth is I've just always wanted to rely on my horsey skills in a crisis, and I've always been able to act pretty calmly when things go wrong on horses, but this was a particularly Indiana Jones moment.

Ok, the sad part is the girl who fell soon decided she didn't want to keep going, so I felt pretty bad about getting her to come, and kept an even closer eye on the other girl as we made our way through the brush down to the beach.

It. Was. Gorgeous. The sunset was cold (blues and yellows) but beautiful, just sinking into the sea and lighting all the waves with a bright glow as they crashed into the beach. Wow. And while I tried to convince my horse to canter (it was very reluctant to do so, and kept running in circles instead. SIGH. One of these days I'm going to find a horse riding place that actually does what it says it does, which is offer canters along the beach), the mountains rising up around us, the sun sinking into the sea, it was marvellous. I finally got Habana to shed her inhibitions and go for it, and we had a lovely canter away from everyone else for a bit before I coerced her to the back of the line to walk with my friend there. (Should point out that it's not me in the picture, but I did take it.)

It wasn't the most satisfying ride I've ever been on, but it was pretty spectacular, scenery-wise, and plus there were all my Indiana moments. Pretty freakin' awesome way to spend an evening.

Oh by the way, that cat has ringworm

2008-05-11T19:50:00.000-07:00

I've been directed to the cattery to begin my 2 weeks' volunteering in Cape Town, and while I have been known to sneeze around cats, it's becoming clear that I'm much more allergic than I previously thought. Nevertheless, when shut up in a room with a bunch of teeny kittens loose on the floor, I did what anyone would have done, and picked them up and went "A-woo-woo-woodgy-woo". Unfortunately for me, funtime was over when someone came in and said, as a sort of afterthought, "Oh by the way, those cats have ringworm". Awesome.

After being sprayed down with all manner of anti-ringworm sprays, and after exhibiting some alarming symptoms of allergies, including hives, I was taken away from the kittens (including my favourite, electro-kitty, who looked as though it had taken its curiosity one step too close to a power socket) and shunted over to the dog side of town.

Much better. No sneezing...mild requirement to fend off over-friendly dogs, but there you go. There were a number of large dogs who were allowed free rein over the premises, including Skippy, who had distemper when young, and as a result was "a few sandwiches short of a picnic". Quite adorable, with an odd, straight-legged walk, but a generally happy disposition and eagerness to be paid attention to.

Another favourite was Eddie, a Rhodesian Ridgeback who was smitten with one of the clinic workers, to the extent that if you needed to find this particular person, all you had to do was look where Eddie was pointing. Eddie was gorgeous, and friendly, and in the morning would jump up to put his paws on my shoulders and breathe in my face. He was also well-behaved enough to be the only "house dog" allowed in the clinic itself (otherwise he would sit outside and wait for his friend to come out).

Meanwhile I spent a while outside in the kennels, feeding and watering and generally trying to get in and out of each enclosure with all my limbs in tact, and without letting any of the (amazingly strong) dogs out. Never thought I'd stand a chance against a massive German Shepherd, but I grabbed the scruff of its neck and heaved, and somehow we ended up with me outside and it inside. Phew!

One of my favourite sections was the "hospital" which housed a few of the dogs who were sick, but not so much that they needed constant supervision. The best part about this was taking them for their walks -- in particular I remember a teeny, tiny, wriggly little brown thing, called Archie, who was so eager and friendly that it was hard not to scoop him up every time I visited. Of course he did pose a problem when it was time for me to leave. Big heavy gate, tiny, slippery dog... There were two black labrador pups there, one of whom was suffering from mange, and very timid. Had to carry that one to the park and try to encourage it to walk. It did, but only when my back was turned, and in the opposite direction. The other pup was gorgeous. Bright and friendly -- all he wanted was to play, and who was I to resist?

The other place I hung out was in the clinic. Poked my head in there at the start of my stint, and got hooked on chatting to all the poor sick puppies housed there. I also got to look in on some surgeries -- many sterilisations, a cat tail amputation (Paris, pictured, who bit her own tail off to the extent that the vet had to dock it completely) and a dog whose ears had to be cut off. It wasn't always pleasant, and in some cases it was really sad, like when the dog showed up whose owner had chopped off its front leg with a machete. Or the cat that had to be put down due to feline AIDS. But sometimes there were success stories. Like the teeny little Siberian Husky pup, who came in very sick, and wasn't eating. After a blood transfusion (with a massive bull terrier cross) it perked right up, much to the chagrin of everyone in the clinic. Ever heard a husky pup howl? It's sort of a cross between a cat, a lamb and a baby, all of which sound as though they're being skinned alive. So it fell to me to take the little bundle out of its cage at these times and cuddle it -- it would look up with its little wibbly eyes and fall completely silent -- entirely happy for someone just to love it. And I fell in love in about two seconds.

A woodgy-woodgy-woo.

9,000 feet and falling

2008-05-05T18:40:00.001-07:00

So there I am, 9,000 feet above Cape Town, wondering, as I suppose many in my position do, why the hell I'm doing this.

I mean, really. When was it ever my idea of entertainment to jump out of a tiny plane and plummet towards earth? Turns out, it started just last week, when fellow volunteer J said "want to go skydiving?" and like a fool, I said "yes".

So before I know it I'm strapped into the world's most unflattering harness, and onto the front of a guy whose name I don't remember (this is my tandem instructor), and we're edging out of the plane door and into the gaping void below...goggles on...harness tight...are you coming out, miss?

I wish I could say I was graceful under pressure, but through no fault of my own, really, as soon as we dropped -- and it was an out and out drop -- my mouth opened and a scream came out. This happened until I was turned onto my stomach, and could no longer intake enough air with which to continue screaming. From here there was nothing to do but open out my arms into the wind, breathe through my nose and try to smile for the video camera guy who was now zooming towards us, apparently with a desire to get a good look at my nostril hairs. One of them yells "We've got a screamer!", which is less than helpful. But once I got all that into line, it was fantastic -- there really was nothing around us but air, nothing above but sky, and nothing below but, well, everything.

After about 15 seconds of free-falling (though it felt like about 10 times that), the chute opened and whooshed us back into the sky and upright, and now it was a lovely floating drift over Cape Town -- Table Mountain to the South, to the East the beautiful sun-lit mountains, and over to the West, the deep blue sea. It was so quiet, so peaceful, and lovely to be floating swiftly through the air, fingertips stretched out into the sky. Closer we drifted to the landing area, where I could make out my friends below, waving. One last roller-coaster whoosh downwards and we were touching down (some of us less gracefully than others) onto the sand, blood pumping and endorphins racing, the general feeling being that I wanted to do that again.

PS - the video footage of this is less than flattering. Ever wanted to see your hair flying, terrified, back from your forehead, your cheeks billowing like two puffy pink sails? No, me neither.

Jetlagging through a work day

2008-05-04T20:58:00.000-07:00

Howzit!

So I just woke up, which startled me as I wasn't aware I'd fallen asleep at my desk. This isn't just your usual brand of lazy, though. I've been in Africa for the past 5 weeks, and I'm a little jet-lagged. Where's a fluffy pillow and a big mug of chocolate when I need it?

As for Africa, since I've completely failed to update this blog in the interim (not entirely my fault, as 2.5 of the 5 weeks were spent without the company of computer access), I think I'll space it out over the next few days, in a sort of retrospective blog ("retrospective", here, being a big word that means "late").

Cape Town:

Arrived without too much ado, although it turns out my fitness regime has been pretty ineffectual, this becoming clear as I huffed and puffed my way behind a porter at Johannesburg Airport who grabbed my bags, saying something about getting me to my flight on time, and took off down the stretch at a gallop. At any rate, after tipping him the equivalent of ten taxi-rides, I hopped the plane to Cape Town and was transferred to a house near the beach where I would be staying for the next two days.

This part of Cape Town was populated by beautiful houses, mostly white people, and dogs. Lots of dogs. Went for a walk along the beach and 60% of creatures met were of the canine variety. The house is lovely and restful, and feels comfortingly like a real home (convenient, as it is one). Woke up on the first day to a lovely sunrise over the ocean, unfortunately followed by 30 degree heat. (Heat, in Africa? Who would've thought? Certainly not me, having been informed, so I thought, by the ever-trustworthy weather.co.uk...)

Ok, the "white" thing? It comes up. This is a country for whom apartheid has only been over for 14 years (!), and despite the fact that they've come on a heck of a lot faster than the USA, there's still an awkward sort of divide there.

Went up Table Mountain, which was pretty stunning in terms of views, if a tad over-populated by tourists, and then on one ill-fated and frankly unwise trip to "Seal Island". "Island" is somewhat misleading, as it conjours up a decent land mass, whereas the Island actually consists of a large rock in the ocean. And, and I can't stress this enough, it smells. Bad. If it weren't enough for me to already suffer from a failure to inherit my mother's sea legs, the smell would have tipped me over the edge. As it was, I had both, and it was a miserable trip from start to finish.

The rest of the cape is beautiful, though, and it has a laid-back lazy sort of feeling to it. Africa time, they call it.

It's a flower, you nudnik!

2008-03-17T19:49:00.000-07:00

Today I've been learning about history. This comes on the heels of having finally gotten around to watching The Last King of Scotland, and Forest Whittaker's beautiful performance. Half the time he seemed like a decent guy, and then, oh then, he was off raving lunatic, and you remembered how much power he had in his grasp and how disturbing that was.

Anyway, history. Turns out in the 1600s there was this massive mania stirred up over the ownership of tulips. Just in case you're not imagining the right kind of "massive", I'll give you a rundown of what you could get in exchange for one viceroy tulip bulb:

8 fat pigs + 4 fat oxen + 12 fat sheep + 24 tuns wheat + 48 tuns rye + 2 hogsheads wine + 4 tuns beer + 2 tuns butter + 1,000 lbs cheese + 1 silver drinking cup + 1 pack clothes + 1 bed + 1 ship.

Then one day the market just crashed, and all of a sudden there were people standing about, letting it dawn upon them that while they used to own a bevy of animals, food, clothes and boats, they were left to console themselves with a Single Freaking Flower. Ooo, de lally.

History is a funny little bugger.

Meanwhile, I'm going to have some chocolate, because I'm sure one day that the scientists are going to tell me how good it is for me.

Rabies, and other concerns...

2008-03-11T16:15:00.001-07:00

Ok, so my Oscar picks were way off. Well, 13 of them were, anyway, which is not exactly comforting.

Time for something new! Today I shall be waxing lyrical on overseas travel, as I am soon to embark on the same. Yesterday I went to ask people to jab me full of vaccinations and learned that a) whatever your expectations, tetanus injections are going to hurt, and b) the same goes for rabies. Mmm. Rabies. There's a conversation stopper. What I find more disturbing, however, is that if I happen to get scratched by an animal at any time, I need to go have two more rabies injections immediately! Woo!

While I was waiting to be jabbed, I was sat down with six or seven big, burly policemen in overalls, the kind that the Police Force sends to public relations events. Good heavens. All I wanted from then on was a high pitched scream to come from one of their vaccination rooms.

Why is it I'm so afraid of needles? It's only a tiny piece of metal, after all. And some chemicals. And it's going into your arm in 3...2...1... It's the anticipation, I think. You know, when they hold it up and flick it to get the air bubbles out and you remember why they're doing it and what air bubbles can do to a person, and the idea that you know that in a moment something is going to hurt you, and that you're going to let it. Your various systems argue with each other: the brain tells you to stop being a wuss and take it; your muscles get all tough and tense; your stomach has a sort of vicarious nervous reaction and your nerves are backing away going "Hey hey hey, I remember this! Get that thing away from me!"

I still wonder why, with all that modern science can do, they haven't invented oral vaccines for all of these things. Seriously. I mean, thanks for penicilin and bubble wrap and ipods and everything, but come on...is anyone thinking about the vaccines? Are you just going to give up and say "well, we've got that far--who wants ice cream?"

Meanwhile, the day of departure advances, with a worrying sort of too-soon inevitability. Am I ready? Do I have everything I need? Can't someone else do all this for me? The answer to all these questions is, regrettably, "no". I still need boots, documents, phones organised, itinerary sent, doctor's letters assuring the people I'll be staying with that I'm of sound mind...that sort of thing. Hmm. I've travelled quite a bit for someone of my age, I suppose, and on my own, so I should really be used to all this by now. But really what it is, is that somehow it all seems to come together ok.

I think I'll choose to find that optimistic.

O

ACK!

2008-03-11T16:00:00.000-07:00

February 24: 1 Sleep to go

ACK! So unorganised. So procrastinatory. I’ve cleaned out my wardrobe now, though, so all that remains is to write this damn thing.

Tips for avoiding early broadcasts of the Oscars:
· Don’t talk to ANYONE. Safe, but kind of anti-social, and a little extreme, so you might want to use this as a last resort.
· Don’t sign out of hotmail. Ever. Because then you’ll go straight to the ninemsn site, who will spoil it all quicker than you can say “antidisestablishmentarianism”.
· Don’t listen to the radio.
· Don’t watch TV. Especially Channel nine. They SUCK.
· Perfect the fingers-in-the-ears/la-la-la-I-can’t-hear-you technique. Sure it’s immature, but it works.
· Prepare apology letters for anyone you offend while employing any of the above.

In non-Oscar movie news—I just saw Stardust, of which I had heard almost nothing, but should really be given more credit than it’s gotten. It’s a fairy tale, no doubt about it, but it’s humour is along the lines of The Princess Bride, and like that classic, best viewed without cynicism.

But it’s time for the last big BEANIE of the season, and it is the:

And What Have We Learned Award

Which goes to:

All Babies Want to Get Borned, from Juno

Now I don’t want to seem like I’m supporting or not supporting any kind of view here, other than the fact that it’s a catchy tune, belted out in mantra-form by Juno’s classmate outside the Women Now abortion clinic (“because they help women now”). Little light on the grammar, perhaps, but the intention is there.

Juno is one of my favourite films of 2007—for one thing it’s so refreshing to have a comedy among all the darkness, but for another it’s just damn good. Excellent acting by Ellen Page, who I would so love to win an Oscar, and a snappy script that manages to be cynical and adorable all at once. Arrested Development’s Jason Bateman (woo!) and Michael Cera are fantastic, and Allison Janney and JK Simmons (“Hey there, big puffy version of Junebug!”) are beautiful as Juno’s parents. Even, as a friend of mine grudgingly admits, Jennifer Garner pulls out some real acting chops here. (What the heck are “acting chops” supposed to be, anyway?) (complete aside borne of too much internet searching: “chops” actually refers to musical ability, or more specifically, the mouth, and for someone to have “real chops”, it means they’re really going for it on whatever wind instrument they’re playing. Anyway…)

What I love most is the fact that from the minute you’re plonked in this world you feel like its familiar. It’s grounded, quick, honest in its intentions and just plain funny.

Let’s have a look at Juno’s chances on Monday night:

Best Picture
Oh, how I would love for this to win. I don’t think there’s much chance of that, though, considering the rave reviews surrounding No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood. Still. Stranger things have happened in this category. I mean, Crash won, didn’t it?

Best Actress—Ellen Page
There’s a very small chance that Ellen Page might take this from Julie Christie, but even if Ms Christie doesn’t win, there’s still Marion Cotillard, whose performance in La Mome is receiving a lot of attention. Still, if life were mine to control…

Best Director—Jason Reitman
Again, it’s possible, but I think it’s far more likely that any upset of the Good Ship Cohen will be made by Julian Schnabel for The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.

Best Original Screenplay—Diablo Cody
Yay! Juno’s biggest hopes are in this category, and I shall be pleased as a very pleased person can be if it wins. Any movie that includes the line “Thundercats are go!”, you know. I’m pretty sure that was what was missing from Casablanca.

No, in all seriousness, I love this script. Very naturally written, with wonderfully rounded characters, a great heart, lovely exposition, and lines that are plain hilarious.

In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood. Ugly, pretty. Handsome…what have you. The right person will still think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with.”
—JK Simmons, Juno—

PS—I suppose I should mention all the other BEANIEs I never had time to devote a whole Omail to:

Most Brilliant Use of Nudity

Bart skateboarding to Krustyburger, from The Simpsons Movie

Is it juvenile that I found this so hilarious? Because I really did. Ahahahahaha.

Best Use of Animals in a Motion Picture

The Swan, from Hot Fuzz (I know, again)

Picture it: a car chase through English county roads. Bullets fly back and forth between the cars as inhabitants of each lean out the window and fire. They fly around the bends faster and faster, they’ve almost reached the highway, when—“SWAN!”

It’s a real stretch not to give this film all the awards. I’ll be restrained. But you’ve got to hand it to that swan. Masterfully evading capture throughout the entire film, only to pop up at the end to kick some ass. Also it gives us this lovely exchange earlier between Simon Pegg and Stephen Merchant:

Angel: Yes, Mr. Staker, we'll do everything we can. Can you describe it?
Peter Ian Staker: It's about two-feet tall, long slender neck, kind of orange and black bill...
Angel: Anything else?
Peter Ian Staker: Well... it's a swan.

Best Performance by an Inanimate Object in a Motion Picture

The Pee-Stick, from Juno

There it is, that unholy little plus-sign, signaling a complete about-turn for the life of one Juno MacGuff. As that guy from the American version of The Office (whom I can’t stand) says, “It ain’t no etch-a-sketch. That’s one doodle that can’t be un-did.”

By the power of Greyskull!

2008-03-11T15:53:00.000-07:00

February 22: 3 Sleeps to go

Goodness me. It’s time to switch on some Oscar-nominated music and type! TYPE LIKE YOU’VE NEVER TYPED BEFORE!

The conversations I’ve come across about the original song nominations, three of which contain songs from Enchanted, all seem to go nuts for the song “Falling Slowly” from Once, so I’ve checked it out, and it’s lovely—mellow, sweet, at times aching—also it sounds like it’s being sung by Cat Stevens. This may make or break your interest in this song.

What else can I report on? I saw Eastern Promises this week, despite my lukewarm reaction to A History of Violence (same director), and it wasn’t half bad, actually. Quite involving. Benefits include the return of Armin Mueller-Stahl, who looks exactly like he did in The Power of One, and a lovely bit from Jerzy Skolimowski as Naomi Watt’s uncle. But anyone who’s seen this movie is going talk about one scene, and one scene only, with a faint air of reverence and eyes bugged in awe: “The Bath House Scene”. I’ll solve the mystery. It’s a fight. A pretty violent and well-choreographed one. In a bath house. Also Viggo’s in the nuddy the whole time.
Kind of an eye-opener.

ANYWAY. Let’s look at this film’s chances—only one nomination for:

Best Actor—Viggo Mortensen
It’s well-deserved, actually, and kind of a long time coming, ‘cause he’s awesome. This performance is (…pause as I search for a word that can’t be used as a double entendre…) both natural and tightly-wound. He does “eerily calm” really well, and the nuances in his facial expressions are fantastic. I don’t really think he’s got much of a chance of taking out Daniel Day-Lewis or Johnny Depp, but for now that’s ok, and I’m happy with him being “Oscar Nominee Viggo Mortensen” for the time being.

Heh. Which reminds me of a speech a couple of years ago…
“…It's the funny thing about winning an Academy Award, it will always be synonymous with your name from here on in. It will be ‘Oscar winner, George Clooney…Sexiest Man Alive, 1997…Batman…died today in a freak accident…’”

And with all this talk of Eastern Promises, today’s BEANIE is going to be a bit surprising, but the BEANIE for

Best Fight

goes to…

Simon-Pegg-and-Nick-Frost-firing-two-guns-while-jumping-in-the-air-and-going-‘arg’, from Hot Fuzz

Yeah, Viggo is nekkid, and yeah, Rocky’s a hundred and eleven, but it’s nothing compared to this. At various times during the film, Nick Frost, whose character has seen way too many cop films, asks Simon Pegg’s seasoned cop the following:

“Have you ever fired a gun whilst jumping through the air?”
“Have you ever fired two guns whilst jumping through the air?”
“Have you ever fired your gun up in the air and gone ‘arg’?”

The answers are all “no”, but what follows is all of the above, and the most marvelous piece of filmmaking. EVER. It’s a damn good ride, culminating in a fight sequence between the above and the citizens of a tiny English town, for which you just know the writers were sitting around the table going “ok, ok—you know what else would be awesome?” Octogenarians and shot-guns, that’s the ticket.

This film is a parody of every cop movie ever made, and the inclusion of 007 Timothy Dalton, along with some of Britain’s most venerable actors, is a lovely touch. What makes it hysterical, apart from the fact that the script is BRILLIANT, is the absolute seriousness with which everyone plays it. There’s every British comic actor under the sun, and a cameo each by Peter Jackson and Cate Blanchett. Guns! Knives! Blood! A giant monkey! What more could you want?
If you haven’t seen this film, I’ll hunt you down and make you watch it. I’m talking clockwork orange here. Except not really, because I find that totally creepy. But as for Hot Fuzz, see it!

[about Point Break] “Well, I wouldn't argue that it wasn't a no holds barred, adrenaline fueled thrill ride. But, there is no way you can perpetrate that amount of carnage and mayhem and not incur a considerable amount of paperwork.”
—Simon Pegg—Hot Fuzz—