In November of 2001, a young medical resident was murdered in a park in St. John, Newfoundland. Andrew Bagby, as we learn throughout the film, was a good guy.
Soon after Andrew's murder, his ex-girlfriend announced that she was pregnant with his child. His son. Armed with this news, Andrew's long-time friend, Kurt Kuenne, began the process of compiling the thoughts, feelings, and memories of people who knew and loved Andrew as a way of letting his then unborn son learn about his father. A way for Zachary to really get to know Andrew.
Even though he never would. Or could.
Kurt traveled across the US and Canada, and to other places around the world, in order to record interviews with Andrew's family and friends. From these interviews - these soul-bearing confessionals - we learn of Andrew's impact on others. He was kind, funny, loving, and willing to do anything for those close to him.
He also had low self esteem and was extremely self-deprecating. He got down on himself too much. His inability to really like and accept himself lead to unfortunate relationships - but none so damaging as the one with his ex-girlfriend, Shirley Turner.
Dear Zachary also follows the legal process of extraditing his killer back to Canada from the United States, the attempt to get new laws on the books to protect children like Zachary, and Andrew's parents' excruciating ordeal as they fought for custody of Zachary.
I know from my experience watching this film, as well as reading what others have thought about it, that I was not alone in feeling like something really bad was about to happen before we reached a conclusion.
Dear Zachary is a very convincing documentary, but it is also a little conniving. Like any good documentary, it establishes the "good" side from the "bad" side in order to make its case. From the beginning, the viewer knows the identity of the murderer, knows what needs to be done, but waits in agony, along with Andrew's family and friends, for a satisfactory resolution. But the "twist" is kept a secret until absolutely necessary in order to give you that OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL reaction. So in that way? I thought that it was conniving. It simply wasn't necessary. But to make its point? To do what it was meant to do? It was incredibly effective. In fact, this film's gut punch was so effective, it was the catalyst behind the passage of a new law. It is worth watching, but I hope that I warned you. GUT PUNCH.
I had the opportunity to see an early screening of a movie last night, and the director, writer, and star were in attendance afterward to answer questions and to talk a little bit about the film and the experiences they shared.
The film is The Way, about a grieving father walking el Camino de Santiago de Compostela, also known as The Way of St. James, as a way to honor his deceased son who died on the first day of his journey on el Camino. Pilgrims have been walking the Camino for over one thousand years. It is an intensely spiritual journey for many, and though Tom attempts to keep to himself, he meets wonderful characters along the way and learns to open up and share his once closed-off life with others.
Tom Avery (Martin Sheen), an opthamologist from California, lives a "bubble life." His estranged son, Daniel (Emilio Estevez), has abandoned his doctoral studies and has decided to see the world. Estranged from each other since the death of Tom's wife/Daniel's mother, Tom wonders if he'll ever be able to bridge the gap between them.
"It is the life I chose," Tom tells his son, Daniel, in a flashback. Daniel replies, "You don't choose a life, Dad. You live one."
On el Camino, Tom learns how to live his life once again, outside of his comfortable California bubble.
The Way is an intensely intimate look at a man discovering life for the first time, exploring a part of the world he never planned on seeing, and coming to terms with the relationship he once had with his son. It's beautiful and thought-provoking, the acting is superb, and while the storyline is a little predictable, it takes nothing away from the meaning of the film.
After the film, Martin Sheen, Emilio Estevez, and the Producer, David Alexanian, came on stage to answer questions about the film. People gave nothing but praise, and I was surprised to see over 50 people stand up when asked how many in the audience had walked el Camino.
There was even a group of nuns in the audience, who presented Mr. Sheen with a rosary. It was really something.
(Note: I saw this film on January 4th. That's how long it took me to get off my ass and write the damn review.)
So, so many people had been praising The King's Speech, that I was a little worried that it had been over-hyped.
It wasn't.
Prince Albert (Colin Firth) is the second son of King George V of England (Michael Gambon). His brother, (Holy-Crap-That-Was Guy Pearce?), is first in line to the throne.
In Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), Albert has a wonderful, loving, caring wife. She wants him to be happy, and she knows that while keeping silent forever would make him feel less conspicuous, it won't make him happy. She seeks out the help of a speech therapist, Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), to cure that which other therapists and doctors have been unable.
It all seemed so simple. Albert would be able to continue with his official duties all while building his self-esteem and being the man he knew he could be. That is, until the king dies and Edward ascends to the throne. It's clear that his heart is not in the monarchy - it belongs to an American divorcee, Wallis Simpson - and he soon abdicates the throne.
Albert is to become King George VI, and is absolutely petrified.
There was not a weak link in this film. Every actor was pitch-perfect and wonderfully cast. The script moved along at a leisurely pace, and while the film dragged a bit in the center, it quickly picked up speed as Albert neared his coronation.
It wasn't until World War II broke out that the new King was thrust upon the world stage, and most importantly, must appear as a strong leader of the British people. He knew that he would be viewed as a joke if he were unable to deliver such an important speech at such an important time, and he rose to the occasion. Listening to the actual speech now, and recalling Colin Firth's performance, the continuity is absolutely amazing.
The entire film was building up to that final, perfect scene, and it did not disappoint. The King's Speech was one of the best films I have seen in years, and I am thrilled that it won the Best Picture Oscar.
There were, of course, a large number of people who thought that the Best Picture should have been awarded elsewhere, and while I agree that there were many amazing films up for the top prize, The King's Speech is absolutely timeless. It is just the kind of film that Oscar voters like, but it will also stand the test of time. I can't say the same for The Social Network.
It's not often that a filmmaker is able to craft his/her own vision of a film while still staying true to the vision of a novel, but I feel that Never Let Me Go is an exception.
Set in the early eighties in Britain, Never Let Me Go is a fascinating examination of the human condition. Kathy (Carey Mulligan), Tommy (Andrew Garfield), and Ruth (Keira Knightley) live and learn at Hailsham, a boarding school tucked away in the peaceful English countryside. There as long as they can remember, Hailsham is their home. They don't know any differently.
The children at Hailsham are special. They (and we) are constantly reminded of this, and along with their daily regimen of vitamins and exercise, they learn to appreciate their lives even though they don't fully understand what lies ahead.
One day, a new teacher, horrified by the attitudes of those surrounding the children, shatters the illusion of Hailsham and painfully explains to the children just what they are. And what it means for their collective futures.
Soon, the children are eighteen and move to a sort of "halfway house" to await the beginning of their duties to the nation. Ruth and Tommy are now a couple, while Kathy's secret love for Tommy silently boils below the surface of her serene face. While coming to terms with their fates, the three painfully coexist and attempt a chance at "real lives."
But soon, as with all those before them, they are one by one drawn to their fates.
Expertly based on the novel by Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go is a beautiful, yet devastatingly haunting film. With amazing performances by the three main leads (especially Mulligan), the characters are brought to life on screen. The talent of these actors completely held the film, for its bleak storyline and slightly slow-moving script would have been insurmountable if the casting department had experienced an off day. Mulligan really carries the film with a naivety and sweetness that forces the viewer to relate with her, her life, her soul, and her fate. She is able to convey emotions without saying a word, and a single facial movement is a soliloquy.
This film conjures many philosophical debates and makes it amazingly difficult, yet completely understandable, that the people of this alternate universe are so accepting of their world. The former headmistress of Hailsham explains, "You have to accept that sometimes that's how things happen in this world. People's opinions, their feelings, they go one way, then the other. It just so happens you grew up at a certain point in this process."
While the film barely deviates from the novel, I was a little disappointed that the "secret" of Hailsham is revealed so soon. In the novel, the story builds to that point, releasing clues, but never explaining everything, until those clues wash over the reader in a wave of shock and understanding.
Of course, that "secret" is not the main theme of the film, or the novel. The main theme is love and the ways in which it can be shared. How souls intertwine and relationships build... and sometimes crumble.
In Bruges is a gorgeous, heart-breaking film with amazing comedic performances. If that sounds bizarre, know that the script ties together these differing themes flawlessly, allowing the viewer to understand and even empathize with the main characters all while experiencing Bruges as they do. It's a fun ride.
After a botched contract killing, Ray (Colin Farrell) and Ken (Brenden Gleason) are sent to Bruges, Belgium to avoid the aftermath and await further instruction. Ray feels like he's in the absolute worst place on earth and wants to return to London, but Ken is excited about the historical significance of the town and encourages Ray to come along sightseeing with him.
Two very complex characters, Ray and Ken are nothing alike, and yet the same. Both are killers with spotty pasts, but Ray is absolutely livid that he's been ordered to Bruges, while Ken wants to enjoy his "paid vacation."
Following the instructions of their boss, Harry (Ralph Fiennes), each day in Bruges brings them closer to receiving their next assignment, but Ken alone soon learns the identity of this next hit.
This is a dark film, yes, but it is almost entirely a dark comedy. Farrell is absolutely brilliant, especially in his scenes with Gleason, and though they are hitmen, the viewer can't help but like them. Want to help them. Want them to succeed.
Ralph Fiennes is an amazing baddie, but refreshingly, this baddie has a conscience. The fact that Harry doesn't follow the confines of a typical villain just reinforces the fact that this film flows easily without breaking "the rules" of the film noir.
I can't tell you how much I enjoyed this film, especially when, on paper, it should have been a downer. And the casting? Talk about flawless! (Also, if you're a Harry Potter fan, you might be happy to learn that In Bruges stars Mad Eye Moody, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and Fleur Delacour - a veritable Goblet of Fire reunion!)
I know now why In Bruges was nominated for - and won - so many awards. It's good.
Mike has a man crush on Leonardo DiCaprio, and I can't say that I blame him. We tend to see movies with Leo, because I just don't think that the guy has made a crappy film (that I've seen, anyway). He was even good on "Growing Pains," and he had to deal with Chrissy and Ben. And they were annoying.
It's 1954. Leo plays Teddy Daniels, a federal marshall sent to an island prison/hospital to investigate the disappearance of a female inmate. Shutter Island hosts criminally insane prisoners, most of whom are convicted murderers, and with one on the loose, the security procedures and precautions are now even more intensified.
"A fedora and a smoke? 1954 can't get much better, my friend."
Teddy and his partner, Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo), are immediately thrown into a world where they don't seem to have as much control as they expect, and as their investigation continues, Teddy becomes more and more convinced that there is something sinister going on - something that the doctors would keep secret at any cost.
Stuck on the island due to a horrific storm, and unable to delve deeper into the case because of a lack of access to files and evidence, Teddy becomes frustrated and drastically changes the course of the investigation.
Shutter Island is a crisp, concise, beautifully shot film, and with Martin Scorsese behind the camera, I would expect no less. The acting is top notch, of course, and the script is exciting and interesting. The pace slows at times, but it's more so that Scorsese can demonstrate the mood and feel of this island prison, letting the viewer feel as trapped as the main character.
The supporting cast includes Michelle Williams, Ben Kingsley, Max von Sydow, and Emily Mortimer. All are given excellent material, and all act the hell out of their roles.
Shutter Island is a very good film with a satisfying conclusion. I have a hunch that it would improve with additional viewings... once you know the ending, I'm sure that it would be a completely different film.
Hmmm. I wasn't looking for much in Zombieland. All I wanted was to be entertained, and I was.
Of course, after about six minutes, Mike got bored/annoyed and plugged in his iPod. But I enjoyed it!
Zombies are taking over the world, and it's every human for himself. Or herself, as it turns out. We learn the rules for survival quickly via the main character's (Columbus, played by Jesse Eisenburg) voiceover: cardio, to outrun/outplay the zombies; avoiding bathrooms, as zombies take advantage of you at your most vulnerable state; check the back seat, as zombies can sneak up on you; and more. The whole thing is very tongue-in-cheek, which is the attitude you must adopt when life takes on a whole new meaning in a zombie world.
Columbus soon encounters Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson), a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy, who just wants to enjoy his life in a world undone. They are eventually outsmarted by Wichita and Little Rock, sisters who are in the same boat as them - just a little meaner.
Eisenburg charmed me in Adventureland, and I probably wouldn't have bothered with this film if it hadn't been for him. Even the promise of Harrelson acting like, well, Woody Harrelson, wasn't completely appealing. I've liked him since Cheers, and I liked him more when he was on Will & Grace, but his hippie pothead schtick is starting to get old. Luckily, his "character" was more of a badass than I expected.
Zombieland is not twist-filled, and it's pretty predictable, but it has heart and clever, witty dialogue. The acting is good and rarely over-the-top, and the soundtrack is fun.
Of course, there is an awesome cameo appearance that remains the best reason to watch this film, and that cameo is Bill Murray. And that's all I am going to say about that, because his scenes are the best parts of this film.
Zombieland is fun and entertaining, and it's worth a go on Netflix.
As a someone who considers herself a bit of an Anglophile, the idea of a fantastically-styled movie about the life of a young British queen is more exciting to me than Christmas. The fact that the movie focused on the earliest years of her reign (read: when she was young and hot) pushed it over the top of awesome for me.
Queen Victoria (Emily Blunt) ascended the British throne in 1837 at the age of eighteen. She was raised in practical solitude, as her mother and everyone surrounding her in the palace is cognizant of the fact that she must be protected. The only direct heir to the British throne, she cannot even descend a staircase without supervision. (For more on Victoria, see here, as I don't want to bore you.)
Her lack of freedom is depicted well - it's quite subtle and yet the viewer is very aware that commoners have more free will than the princess of the British Empire.
While the idea of a period movie might not be for everyone, just consider it a romantic film with fantastic clothes. It's not really a chick flick, but it follows the same formula. Chick flicks get a bad reputation, I think, because they aren't always a bad thing when they're actually written well and aren't formulaic and embarrassingly sad (re: anything starring Katherine Heigel. Ugh.) But Victoria is more romantic than sickeningly lovey-dovey, if that helps.
Yes, there's an arranged marriage, and yes, that's how it was those days, but when you see Albert (Rupert Friend), you might not feel so bad for her.
The acting is phenomenal, and as a love story, it doesn't feel fake or contrived. It's not forced or ridiculous. Well, it's ridiculous in such a way that theirs was an arranged marriage, but Victoria and Albert were very well matched, with similar interests and ideals. They both loved and supported the arts and education, as evidenced by The Great Exhibition of 1851, an international exhibition organized by Albert, and they bonded over their mutual interests.
Assassination attempts on the life of the queen (a little contrived in the film, but semi-accurate nonetheless) cemented their relationship as not just a married couple, but a team.
Their love has been well documented in letters from Victoria and Albert to relatives and friends. When Albert died, Victoria was in mourning for the rest of her life - wearing black until she died. And a little anecdote at the end of the film - explaining that Victoria laid out his clothes each day - is true. And that elicited a little sob from yours truly.
I just loved this film. I tend to either love or hate period films, and this one happened to hit all the right notes. From the gorgeous costumes to the set design and cinematography, it was like watching a piece of art.
Laura has returned to her childhood home, an orphanage by the sea, with her husband, Carlos, and their adopted son, Simon. Laura and Carlos plan on turning the large mansion into a home for disabled children, but their plans are interrupted when Simon disappears.
I loved the supernatural elements in this film, from the early thrills and chills, to the devastating turns of the final acts.
The Orphanage was nowhere near as strikingly beautiful - or as devastatingly sad - as del Toro's amazing Pan's Labyrinth, but the depressing muted color of El Orfanato only lends to the suspenseful storyline. The dreariness constantly reminds the viewer of Laura's plight, and allows the film to carry everyone along to the inevitable conclusion.
What struck me most was that while considered (and marketed as) a horror film, there was little to be scared of, yet the viewer is constantly on edge. From the music to the acting to the cinematography, the viewer never forgets that s/he is watching a horror film.
Belen Rueda (Laura) absolutely carries the film. In every single scene, the viewer feels her pain and her horror, her feelings of loss and dread. She is absolutely amazing. When the final scenes are carried out, you not only understand her decisions, but you revel in them.
El Orfanato is not on the same plane as Pan's Labyrinth, no, but it is a fantastic film.
I'm not much of a Clint Eastwood fan. I'm sorry, but I'm not. I've never seen a Dirty Harry flick and though I did want to see The Flags of Iwo Jima, I just never really got around to it.
But Gran Torino showed me that Eastwood is one of the most beloved additions to cinema - as an actor, director, and screen writer. The film is simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking, the acting is at an apex, and it has a strong, thought-provoking message.
Set in Highland Park, a small city almost completely enveloped by Detroit, Gran Torino follows the life of Walt Kowalski (Eastwood), a recently widowed Korean war veteran set in his ways, his beliefs, and his prejudices.
Living alone for the first time, and dealing with his ungrateful children and grandchildren, Walt simply goes about his daily routines. Walt has been deeply prejudiced by his experiences in Asia during the war, and he barely tolerates the Hmong, the ethnic Chinese group who have slowly become the majority in his once Polish neighborhood.
When his teenage neighbor, Thao, tries to steal his prized 1972 Gran Torino under pressure from his cousin's neighborhood gang, Walt agrees to the punishment proposed by Thao's mother - that he work for Walt. Over the course of a few weeks, Walt grows increasingly fond of Thao, and he becomes a father-figure to him. This relationship becomes crucial to Thao's future.
This is just as much a coming-of-age tale as it is one of overcoming prejudice. Thao and his older sister, Sue, trying to avoid the pull of the gang life surrounding them, struggle every day to push for enlightened existences.
Eastwood is amazing, and his scenes with the young parish priest are simply some of the best in the entire movie. The dialogue between them explores redemption and forgiveness, and Walt learns just as much from Father Janovich as he manages to teach in return. Father Janovich refuses to accept Walt's attitude and pushes him to a breaking point. It's a good thing.
Clint Eastwood is such a badass. Unlike Morgan Freeman's character in that horrible movie, Wanted (Sweet LORD, it was SO. BAD.), you never once doubt his commitment to the character, the script, or the overall feel of the film. He is so convincing, you absolutely forget that he is Clint Eastwood.
Both sets of my dad's grandparents grew up on the East side of Detroit. Those neighborhoods really have gone through similar transitions as Walt's. Once predominantly Polish, the large duplexes have undergone transformations and now boast a large Latino population. Change is imperative to a city's survival and growth, and I can only hope that Detroit eventually returns to the thriving city it once was.
Gran Torino is about this change, but also about acceptance and deliverance. It's excellent.
Away We Go is a sweet little film stars Maya Rudolph and John Krasinski as Verona and Bert, an unexpectedly pregnant, thirty-something couple searching for a place to raise their new family all while trying to discover themselves and the full potential of their lives.
They consider themselves to be "fuck-ups" because they haven't followed the normal steps to becoming a family - her parents have both passed away and she can't bear the thought of getting married without them there. They are educated and intelligent, but are really unsure what to do when life throws them this little curve ball.
After a disastrous dinner with Bert's parents (Catherine O'Hara and Jeff Daniels, both wonderful as always), they realize that nothing is keeping them from finding a new place to live, and they begin traveling the country, visiting friends and new places, keeping a lookout for the perfect location.
It was pretty obvious where they were going to end up, but that doesn't mean that it's not worth watching. Away We Go has grown on me since I watched it over a week ago, and while it's definitely a little weird and a little pretentious, it struck a chord and twisted my heartstrings. The acting was very subtle and beautiful - Rudolph was quite good, and Krasinski was solid. He didn't devolve into his Office character (as much as I love Jim Halpert, his mannerisms and antics would have gotten old if I had to watch them in a feature film rather than in twenty-two minutes on a Thursday evening), and has proven himself as a strong male lead.
The differing encounters with their friends and family are the moments that really elevate the film. Allison Janey was her usual fabulous/insane self as Verona's former boss, and Maggie Gyllenhaal was completely over-the-top fantastic as a self-absorbed, liberal, stroller-hating "relative" of Bert's (what's sad is that we all probably know someone like her - and avoid her). The storylines around Bert's brother and additionally their married college friends, were sweet, poignant, and touching.
And it is here that we discover the heart of this movie - in their travels, Bert and Verona see that all people, in any form of relationship, are "fuck-ups." No one really knows what they're doing and no one can predict the future. But they are confident in their love and in their relationship, and are ready for whatever might come their way.
What I appreciate most about this film is that it doesn't follow the traditional "romantic comedy" route. Partly, I think that it's because it's not technically a romantic comedy, but mostly it's because this is truly a couple in love. They don't keep secrets from each other and they don't let little misunderstandings become enormous problems. They actually communicate! They get cross with each other once or twice, and annoyed with each other, but their love is never in doubt.
I don't know why I never got around to seeing Julie and Julia in the theater. I love to cook, I love Julia Child, and I love Meryl Streep. Weird.
Julie and Julia was so, so, SO much better than I expected (I would also say the same for It's Complicated, which my mother dragged me to even though I wanted to see Sherlock Holmes, and I actually took out scrap paper and a pen to make notes about it's awfulness, but ended up putting them back in my bag twenty minutes in since it ended up being entertaining and not at all stupid. And what is the common denominator between the two films? STREEP).
Amy Adams is effervescent as Julie Powell, a late-twentysomething looking for a change in her life. She's temping at a horribly depressing job and languishing over the fact that her manuscript wasn't picked up. With brainstorming help from her husband, she decides to tackle Julia Child's first cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. There are trials and tribulations and everything does not go perfectly, because when does it?
But there is no denying that this film belongs to the fabulous, incomparable Meryl Streep. She embodied the role of Julia Child, and brought her voice, her mannerisms, and her love for life to the screen. Streep really is the very best actress of our time, and every time she graced the screen, you couldn't help but smile.
The film follows each woman as each tries to carve her own path, and the ways in which the paths run parallel is a sweet underlying theme. On the same note, the relationships that the women had with their husbands were also touching - these men were supportive and loving and (almost) always optimistic. More than anything, they believed in the best of their wives.
And, of course, I am now reading Julie's original blog, started in 2002 when blogs were mere toddlers. She's a great writer and I love that she was able to succeed so dramatically with a blog of all things! I'm also revisiting my love of cooking. I'm never going to be a trained chef, and I'm never going to be able to make half of the recipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I can't eat cheese, and Mike likes what he likes. But I love to cook. I love knowing what foods compliment each other, and I love knowing how to describe the taste of cumin (smoky, I'd say). I love that I am open to trying new things (venison the other weekend!), and I love the feeling I get in kitchen supply stores.
Pure euphoria.
But I have decided - from this point on - that I will make more meals at home and eat less prepared food. I love to cook, and I'm lucky enough to have tons of great fresh food markets nearby so that even as the snow is falling, I can have the best of what the area has to offer.
Against my better judgement, I saw New Moon. I was afraid that seeing the film would catapult me back to the insanity of last year when I read the damn books over and over again and watched the movie several times a day - much to Mike's chagrin. Remember? I didn't clean my apartment? It was ridiculous and insane? Mike and K-10 wanted to stage an intervention?
Well, I shouldn't have worried so much. It was definitely a better movie than Twilight, and much closer to the book as well. The acting improved immensely, and the wolf-like effects were infinitely better than I expected.
But I think that the moment has passed on my reaction to Twilight-mania, thank the baby Jesus.
If you don't know the story, there isn't much to tell. It's the classic tale of forbidden monster love! Edward, he of the sparkly skin and impossibly fast vampire reflexes, leaves Bella, the clumsiest brunette this side of the Mississippi, even though he's still head over glittery heels in love with her. He's afraid that he'll always put her in danger, you see. Considering the fact that her blood is like crack to him and he is constantly stuck between loving her and snarfing her, I feel like this is a pretty intelligent decision.
But she is a lovesick teenager, and woe is her. So she drops into a deep depression, a state of which I'm sure we all remember since we've all gone through puberty and decided that no one has ever felt the pain that we felt at being dumped at fourteen after nineteen days of dating. We were in LOVE, DAMMIT. It was so EPIC and TRUE. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS!
But lo! The son of her father's friend is quite happy to pick her up off the ground of despair, and while she loves that he's a great friend, Jacob basically just loves her. Ruh roh! Bella is hung up on Edward, and always will be, because as a teenager, the world ends with a breakup! But she has realized that she'll see visions of him if she does reckless things like getting on the back of a motorcycle with a leather-clad rapist, or riding her own motorcycle until it crashes into a stump. Or, like most completely sane people do in Oregon in January, cliff diving. Obviously.
BUT OH NOES, THERE IS A PROBLEM.
Edward finds out that Bella has jumped off a fucking cliff, and thinks that she is dead. So he wants to die because he can't live in a world where she doesn't exist (well, maybe you shouldn't have dumped her clumsy ass, BUTTMUNCH), but he keeps running into such problematic issues like: it's almost impossible to kill a vampire. Well, that's actually pretty much the only issue. But there are vampiric leaders in Italy who lay down the law. They can kill him! Hooray!
Then Bella somehow gets to Italy in a few short hours (Did she take the Concorde? Does she even have a passport? What happened to even minimal amounts of parental supervision? GOD.) and thwarts his attempt at death by sparkling.
It's all fairly ridiculous, I admit, especially seeing the plot laid out there in the open like this, but it was pretty effective both in the book and in the film.
I KNOW.
The soundtrack has been getting praise, but after buying each song legally (um, sure!), I discovered that there were very few tracks that I liked. I view this as a downgrade from the first soundtrack, as it really captured the feel of the film (and book). Plus, it featured lead vampire himself, Robert Pattinson, crooning away all emo-like.
For New Moon, it seems like the powers that be chased after every musical hipster in tight black jeans in order to build some kind of "credibility" for their "masterpiece" of a CD. Garden Statesoundtrack this is not, but there are a few standouts: Radiohead's Thom Yorke supplied a song, and it was excellent, and Death Cab for Cutie's entry was solid. There were a few others that piqued my curiosity (The Editors are always worthy of a listen), but most entries were just wispy and forgettable.
The film works, mostly because it occupies one of the middle bits of a multi-film franchise. It is a space holder, designed to move the plot forward, but is really just a prelude to what fans really want: the headboard-breaking, pillow-biting, scrambled eggs gorging honeymoon of Breaking Dawn.
I had heard good things about The Proposal, and I generally like Sandra Bullock (I admittedly love Miss Congeniality, and she's awesome as law student Ellen in A Time to Kill). And since I adore Ryan "The Abs" Reynolds, I suppose that it was just a matter of time before I saw the flick.
I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.
Friday night, Mike and I settled in with his parents for movie night. We expected light-hearted comedy. We got a pile of steaming poo.
Andrew Paxton (Reynolds) is an executive assistant to Editor-in-Chief Margaret Tate (Bullock) - a bit of a massive bitch. Andrew has been toiling away as her slave for the past three years holding on to hope that he'll eventually be promoted to editor.
The plot is established early: Margaret is a Canadian citizen about to be deported, and she blackmails Andrew into marriage. In a whirlwind of events, they are on a plane bound for Alaska that weekend to meet his family. It's ridiculous. There's a red herring in the form of Drew's ex-girlfriend, and that's about the only plot point that results in something other than a cliche.
I do NOT understand the reviews I've read here. This site usually spots the bullshit of Hollywood from miles away, and they liked this film. Does. Not. Compute. But who knows - I hated The Hangover, putting me at odds with most of America, so do what you will with this review.
Of course, there are some good things about The Proposal. The first would be excellent casting. Mary Steenburgen, Craig T. Nelson, and Betty White are excellent as Drew's parents and grandmother, respectively.
Okay, wait. I take it back. The casting is the only good thing about this film next to the abs of Reynolds. I'm glad that I didn't waste money to see this in the theater. Gah.
I spent the other night watching two chick flicks: Elizabethtown and Definitely, Maybe. Both were cute, and both were better than I expected.
I can't watch these with Mike, you see, because I made a promise to never make him watch formulaic chick flicks, and I am an awesome girlfriend, you see. Besides, he had his own night planned, and I was looking forward to popcorn and my comfy couch. I'm rarely at my own place anymore as it is.
I started with Elizabethtown, because of the two, I expected it to be the weaker. It was, but still mostly enjoyable. Drew (Orlando Bloom), a recently fired shoe company exec who is single-handedly responsible for a billion plus loss for his company because of a horribly designed shoe. On top of his severe depression, he faces a trip to Louisville to deal with his father's funeral arrangements, as he has passed away while on vacation to his hometown.
While on a plane upon which he is the only passenger, he meets Claire (Kirsten Dunst) a flight attendant who was forced to fly the red-eye. Most of the movie spans their early get-to-know-you routine and examines Drew's relationship with his father's family - a family he never really knew because of some kind of disagreement between them and Drew's mother. I don't remember it being that important, but maybe I was focusing on Claire's adorable wardrobe and waiting for their inevitable first kiss.
I actually appreciated the plot because it was fairly simple and pretty believable. Drew and Claire's relationship begins to bloom over a long telephone conversation and while we learn cute little stories about each of them, we also start to see why they were meant to be together. She's optimistic and upbeat, and he needs a little saving. Cliche, perhaps, but sweetly choreographed and very much appreciated. Oh, and Susan Sarandon's bit part as Drew's mother is pretty funny.
Elizabethtown won't (and didn't) win any awards, but it's a nice little distraction of a movie.
Definitely, Maybe, another romantic comedy, was also a bit formulaic, but a really pleasant surprise. I love Ryan Reynolds, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I know that people see him and only see Van Wilder, but I can recognize that there is something else there. He has rare comedic timing, great delivery, and .02% body fat. He's nice to look at.
Will Hayes (Reynolds) is at the tail end of his divorce, and however amicable it may be, he's upset. Luckily, his daughter, Maya (Abigail Breslin, on an acting high since her brilliant turn in Little Miss Sunshine) is extremely understanding and accepting of the developments and only wants her dad to be happy. Precocious and intelligent (aren't they always?), she begs her dad to weave her the tale of how he met her mother. Not far into the tale, it's clear that her mother could have been one of three women: Emily (Elizabeth Banks), Summer (Rachel Weisz), or April (Isla Fisher).
Cleverly executed, Definitely, Maybe is sweetly written and worth a watch on girls' night. The writing makes it a little tricky to discover who "mom" is, but that's not what the viewer is concerned with: we want to know who Will eventaully ends up with.
Okay, so we just finished watching Masters of the Universe, and I have to say that even though it was amazingly, laughably, ridiculously horrible, it was still better than Hot Shots. (Ugh.)
My battle gear is surprisingly effective. And warm.
I am going to recap it in full, so if you are planning on Netflixing this one, I'd stop reading now. But for everyone else who knows better, I bring to you now the fantastic 1987 film, MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE.
He-Man lives on Eternia, a planet also home to the evil Skeletor. No, not Maria Shriver, but an honest-to-goodness man. Well, a man of some sort. Wearing a skeleton mask. Or it's his face. I'm not sure. It wasn't really clear.
He-Man and his two warriors, Teela and Man-at-Arms (no, really, that's his name), apparently the only three people needed to defend the entire planet, are in the middle of a battle. Skeletor has already taken control of Castle Greyskull , a magical place where the MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE resides. And where the Master's power originates. Or is that from the sword? I don't know. It wasn't really clear.
Skeletor has also captured Judy Gellar, aka The Sorceress of Greyskull, who holds the castle's power. Wait, I thought that it was the castle that held the power? Or the sword? THIS IS CONFUSING.
He-Man, Teela, and Man-at-Arms are doing a bit of light hiking in the hills and come upon an obnoxious dwarf named Gwildor who I immediately likened to Jar Jar Binks and was therefore annoyed every time he spoke in his high, squeaky, wanna-be-Yoda voice. Apparently, Gwildor is a genius who designed a time-traveling device called, "The Key." It opens dimensions to anywhere. And, of course, Skeletor has it. Convenient.
Zoinks!
BUT SQUIDGY LITTLE GWILDOR BINKS HAS MADE ANOTHER. Oh, snap! Avoiding Skeletor's forces, they accidentally warp themselves to Earth, circa the decade of amazing hair and clothes, the eighties. Monica Gellar, I mean Julie Winston, is about to hit the road and move to New Jersey (though I think that Conan O'Brien might try to dissuade her) because her parents died in a plane crash and she thinks that it was her fault, blah blah blah. She's visiting their graves with her boyfriend (but planning on dumping him soon), Kevin, when something causes an ear-splitting explosion.
It's because He-Man and his minions have warped to Earth, but they wouldn't know that. The crash was the stupid key falling to Earth, away from the posse of spandex and laser guns. Hmm, you'd think that someone would have held on to that.
Soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend is a dolt and thinks that it's a synthesizer, which would make his band's performance that night completely super radical, because the eighties was nothing without synthesizers, and takes it to his buddy's guitar and music store for identification. That's when Skeletor's greatest warriors/bounty hunters bust through the time-space continuum and make a mockery of the high school by BURNING IT DOWN. School's out for summer! INDEFINITELY.
Julie escapes and runs to an alley where the henchmen almost get her, but then He-Man, Teela, Man-at-Arms, and that annoying elf-dwarf guy rescue her. Instead of fleeing from their spandex (Teela) and inexplicable nakedness (He-Man), Julie clings to them and immediately believes everything they say. As you would.
Detective Lubic, assigned to the arson case, catches up with them and is understandably PISSED about all of the fire and destruction and demands that they hand over the stupid key.
The unsuccessful henchmen return to Eternia and get reamed by Skeletor and his bitch minion. Her name is Evil-Lyn, which seems a little like naming a white poodle, "Whitey." What I'm saying here is that it was lazy writing.
My real name is Evil-Gwen, but Skeletor's ex-girlfriend was named Gwen. So I changed it.
So Evil-Lyn decides that since she's the only one with balls, she'll go to Earth and get the stupid key. She takes the form of JULIE'S DEAD MOTHER and screws with her brain long enough to ensure that Julie nonchalantly hands over the key. Once everyone else realizes what happened, it's too late. Soon after, He-Man is quickly captured and made to promise to be Skeletor's slave. He agrees, so long as his friends can go free. So Evil-Lyn leaves them on Earth with no way home. Nice!
Back on Eternia, Skeletor is waiting for the eclipse or something to do with the planets so that the castle will recognize him as the MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE. With He-Man's sword firmly in place in his throne (hee hee! Dirty!), the transformation begins. Or something. It wasn't really clear.
Meanwhile, back on Earth, Kevin mimics the sounds the key made with his sweet keyboard, and they magically warp to Eternia. This was all very simple.
Of course, the amazing magic of the jimmy-rigged key brings not only their rag-tag group of warriors, but half of the car behind which they were hiding, the wall of the building, Detective Lubic, and all of Courteney Cox's hair.
The battle ensues, Skeletor dies or something (I'm not sure. It wasn't really clear), and Evil-Lyn escapes. Most likely leaving room for a sequel.
Detective Lubic decides to stay in Eternia because the twenty minutes he's seen of it consisted of lots of flashy lights and a partially-clothed woman feeding him grapes, and that's enough for him. Julie and Kevin return to Earth, though Julie can't resist one last partially-clothed hug from He-Man. They all bid one another "Good Journey," instead of "Good Bye" because it's more positive and less I-hope-you-don't-die-on-the-battlefield, even though Julie and Kevin are only returning to Earth.
But sneaky Gwildor returns them to Earth the morning BEFORE Julie's parents die in a fiery plane crash, and everything is all hunky-dory and Julie doesn't have to move to New Jersey after all, which would probably be worse than having dead parents anyway.
So Mike thinks that I have a problem when it comes to picking out movies. Basically, the movies I pick either depress him for a week (see: Atonement) or they make him question my intelligence (We stopped Anchorman about fifteen minutes in because he was whining so much, he refused to acknowledge the brilliance that is Sixteen Candles, and I still haven't gotten over the fact that he didn't like Vacation. As a child of the eighties, how do you not like National Lampoon's Vacation?).
The thing is, I have recently come to a very grave conclusion: we just might not be comedy movie-compatible. Sure, he hatedThe Hangover but I was laughing my ass off. That is, until we left the theater, upon which I realized that I had just spent two hours in a darkened room, but really couldn't remember what transpired. Really. I felt like I had lost hours of my life, but couldn't recall how or why.
That's kind of how I feel about the movie we watched last night.
Granted, I know that this movie was a huge hit when it was released, making millions. When I think about the movies that this "film" spawned (Scary Movie, Epic Movie, Date Movie... the horrid list goes on and on), it makes sense. Movie-goers today like to skewer topical, easy targets, and spoofing other movies and celebrities is both an easy laugh and a great way to forget about the worries of the world.
So what movie did I watch, realizing during the opening credits that I would never reclaim the hours to follow, as that time would be painfully ripped from my soul?
GOD, did it SUCK. Charlie Sheen and Cary Elwes are pretty to look at, but beyond that, the only running gag that actually made me laugh was "the admiral is senile" joke. Well, that and the fact that people kept sitting on chihuahuas. It was ridiculous. Sure, Top Gun is an easy movie to spoof, and that's fine. But while watching Hot Shots, all I could think about was how I would much rather be watching Top Gun, even knowing that Goose would die, and I would be sad, and the hot scenes with Kelly McGillis would be so much more confusing knowing now that she was totally faking it.
I know that it sounds like I am just too good for satire, and you know what? Yes. Maybe I am. I'm a complete movie snob. I see nothing wrong with this. Life is just too damn short to deal with movies that let your intelligence evaporate out through your ears.
Luckily there are funny/stupid movies that Mike and I can agree on, and those are any Mystery Science Theater 3000 flicks. (One of our favorites, Devil Fish, is on youtube in its entirety. Thank God.) And we like the same dramas. He even sort-of enjoyed the succubus of all movies, Twilight. So all is not lost.
(*Mike is still convinced that I liked and enjoyed Hot Shots. He mistook my pity laughter for actual enjoyment, and that annoys me to no end. There is no amount of denying that will change his mind.)
It was like one of my worst hangovers. The one where I stayed in bed all day and didn't get up until 6:45 in the evening. When I couldn't even keep toast in my system for more than a few minutes.
Where my time at the bar was carefully concealed as "fun" and was only a precursor to the hell that was soon to follow.
It was bad.
I was really excited to see this film, mostly because I have been a fan of Zach Galifianakis for years. (Have you seen his Comedy Central special? Hilarious! Out Cold? Hilarious!) And Bradley Cooper has been on my radar since "I Want to Marry Ryan Banks" (yes, another glorious ABC Family movie). I was pumped, and perhaps my expectations were too high, especially after the barrage of good reviews.
And The Hangover *was* funny at times... but completely forgettable. Maybe that's because every single joke was stolen from previous films, the plot was obvious and cliche, and I just don't find Asian stereotypes funny (have you seen Mickey Rooney's go as Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany's? This one was worse. And shame on the filmmakers, because at least Tiffany's was made in the 60s).
I did laugh - mostly at Galifianakis. Jeffrey Tambor's (Arrested Development) screen time as the bride's father was great, but lacking. And Cooper looked absolutely delectable in his black on black suit, but to me, the movie was just a classier, slightly less juvenile rehash of Dude, Where's My Car. Because not only could they not remember the night before, they couldn't find their (borrowed from the bride's father) car.
Of course they couldn't.
Doug (Justin Bartha) wedding is just a few days away, and his buddies are taking him to Vegas. (Really?) Phil (Cooper) is a slightly sleazy beat-down family man and Stu (Ed Helms) is completely emasculated by his girlfriend. And then there's Alan (Galifianakis) - Doug's soon-to-be brother-in-law - tagging along. He's a little... slow. And bizarre.
But lo! After a communal drink on the hotel roof, we cut to three of the four buddies passed out in a completely wrecked suite with a chicken, a tiger, and fewer teeth. But wait! Where's Doug? He's getting married tomorrow! (WHO CARES.)
Even Mike Tyson singing Phil Collins didn't do it for me.
And that's just it - the stunt casting, the ridiculous plot, the forced jokes, and the horrifying racial stereotypes? One, I can handle. Even two. But yet, everyone else (save Mike, who I dragged kicking and screaming to the theater, and was sweet enough to not throw too many "I told you so's at me" on the drive home) has liked this film.
I guess what it boils down to is that I am not a late-twenties former frat boy. And I'm okay with that.
I have a long list of movies on my horizon this year, some of which I'll catch in the theater. The others are reserved for Netflix, and that's okay.
Adventureland was a film that I was not going to miss. I knew a little about the plot - a coming of age tale set in the most glorious decade of them all: the 1980s. But there was something else there that drew me in: the very real feeling of being in a transitional period, unsure of the next step.
James (Jesse Eisenberg), a recent Oberlin graduate, had grand plans to backpack through Europe for the summer, but that all goes to shit when his dad gets demoted. He's forced to take a job at his hometown amusement park to save money for graduate school. We've all been there, right? We've all been forced to work that menial job with people looking down on us, judging us because of our jobs, our clothes, our hair. Being unable to scream, "I'm smart! I have a college degree! Don't talk to me that way!"
James meets a wide array of people working at the park, from the enthusiastic, slightly insane owners/managers (Bill Hader and Kristin Wiig) who hire him on the spot, to the self-loathing college students stuck there - like him.
Joel (Martin Starr) leads James's orientation, pointing out the ridiculousness of the park. The games are rigged, the rides are just barely safe, and the employees just look to pass each day without seriously contemplating suicide.
And then James meets Em (Kristen Stewart). She's up front and honest and rebels from the ridiculous fashion trends of the eighties. Instead of the matchy outfits with scrunchies, she wears oversized tees and sports flat, lifeless hair. On the surface, she seems like an independent, intelligent woman. But her home life is fucked, she doesn't know what she wants, and she doesn't care about herself much at all. Yet you're drawn to her because of these flaws. You want to know what's going to happen with her. You're rooting for her.
Adventureland was billed as "from the directors of Superbad," which I see as both positive and negative. It's good because it might get more people to the theater, but it's bad because people are going to expect simple, sophomoric humor. I know that people loved Superbad, but I was not one of those people. And Superbad doesn't hold a candle to Adventureland.
With any coming of age film, there is a formula to follow. The main character has to get over a hurdle, discover things about himself, do some seriously stupid things, and come out a little older, a little wiser. Adventureland follows this formula, but not in any order. Instead, you get bits and pieces about the characters at different times. No one is completely explained, leaving a little to the imagination.
If you look back to eighties films - Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, etc., you recognize that they are good movies. The Breakfast Club in particular made a bold statement about high school - that we're all fucked up in our own ways - that brought it to a level unseen before in teenage comedies.
Adventureland took that idea a step further. It wasn't a boy-meets-girl, boy-screws-up, boy-wins-girl-back kind of movie, because that rarely happens in real life. In real life, the girl gets wise to the boy's bullshit, or the boy realizes that the girl is... kind of a bitch. They move on. All of Adventureland's characters are flawed - some are very damaged and clearly need therapy, some are embarrassed with their places in the world, and some are just confused. They all know that "figuring it all out" is not going to happen overnight, and they are accepting of it.
The acting was absolutely phenomenal. Eisenberg is pitch-perfect as a guy stuck between college and the rest of his life, but Kristen Stewart carries the film. While the film is ultimately about James's first summer in the real world, it's really Em's life in which we become most interested, most invested. And overall, it's their gritty, real love story.
Surprisingly, one of the most understated performances in the film is by none other than Van Wilder himself, Ryan Reynolds. His depiction of the park's (secretly) sleazy maintenance man was completely against type and the viewer sees that he has much more range as an actor than his usual role as an overgrown frat boy.
And now? I kind of love Kristen Stewart. She is an extremely talented actress, and I am happy that the success of Twilight has propelled her toward roles she deserves. The praise she's earning for this role is very much justified, and I look forward to her future films.
I want to see Adventureland again, for many reasons. The script is real and doesn't make any apologies for the flaws of its characters. The acting is wonderful. The soundtrack is great. And I left feeling good. Not happy, not sad... good. Refreshed.
I know that I am going to be one in a large group of people writing about this ridiculous movie, but I feel that I must. I must because I have been held captive by these STUPID books since September. I must because I have to somehow defend the hold they've had on me. And I must because I made Mike go see this film on Saturday at 11:00 EST, meaning that he missed the only part of the Michigan-Ohio State game in which Michigan actually looked like they knew what a football actually was.
(In my honest defense, I swear - I SWEAR - that I thought the game was at 3:30. The UM-OSU game is almost always at 3:30, but since we've fallen so very far from grace, the network was probably like, "Well, I suppose we have to televise this, given the history of the rivalry, even though it's going to be a clusterfuck of horrible. And also because we kinda have a contract with them. Whatever, where's my scotch? Scotchy scotch scotch.")
On Saturday morning, I woke up excited - like a little girl on Christmas morning (well, Mike likens me to a terrier in the mornings, but I hold that I am extremelypleasant, shut UP), except instead of Mall Madness and Play Doh to look forward to, I had a glittery, fwoopy-haired vampire to see.
I really lowered my expectations for this one. The source material was far from stellar, so why on earth should I expect fireworks from the movie? And Mike was marginally excited, mostly because I was excited, but also because once I started reading the damn series, he did his own search of the internets for information about why I was so obsessed and found this:
So, yeah, he was excited.
I realize that besides this gem, I've never written an actual review of the book, and as the movie is one of the most faithful book-to-screen adaptations I've experienced, I will do that now, lumping them together. So for the uninitiated - and therefore still sane - ready.... GO.
Bella Swan (I KNOW), lives in Phoenix with her hair-brained mother, Renee, and Renee's new husband, Phil. He plays minor league ball, and as Renee wants to travel with him, Bella decides to send herself to teensy eensy, rainy, boring Forks, Washington to live with her dad, Charlie, for a while.
Get it? Bella is SELFLESS. She's also super-clumsy and it gets really tiresome in the book, but those mannerisms are downplayed in the film - THANK GOD.
So Bella arrives in the rainiest, overcast-iest place in the continental United States and immediately begins attracting attention by being bitchy, bad at sports, and falling down a lot. The boys like her and the girls tolerate her. Some are genuinely friendly, while some are... well, teenage girls. (Read: bitchy and fake). Bella soon notices a group of teens that hang out on their own. They don't seem to interact with other people and they are all drop dead gorgeous. Especially the one she discovers to be called... EDWARD. Her classmates/frenemies explain that the Cullen family is packed to the brim with adoptees and they are all super weird.
When Bella arrives in her biology class, the only available seat is next to EDWARD. And he immediately gets this ridiculous look of rage/constipation on his face. Bella can't figure out why he seems to be so disgusted. Every other boy in the damn school has fallen over themselves to flirt with her - why not EDWARD?
Oh EDWARD, thee of the perfect fwoopy hair, why do you hate Bella so?
Turns out, Edward and the Cullens are vampires. But they drink animal blood instead of that of humans. Yes. But they still crave it, don't get me wrong. And Bella's scent? Is the best, most fragrant, most freesia-smelling lovely blood that EDWARD has smelled in his hundred-odd years. Well isn't that an inconvenience?
Oh, right. Also, he's like 107 years old or something.
So who does Bella fall for? Mr. EDWARD Cullen, of course. She's upset when he's not in school and mad when he never gives her straight answers. Thing is? He falls for her, too. It's pretty awesome.
The book, it rambles on and on (and on and on and on) about their love! It is so pure! And so true! Bella wants action, but EDWARD cannot give her the business, as even though they are both delicate virgins and want each other so very much, he is walking a very fine line between wanting her body in the carnal sense and wanting her body in the dinnertime sense. So, no relations as yet.
Right, so about three-quarters of the way through the book/movie, a plot emerges. Welcome, plot! Do you like the smell of freesia? Because Bella apparently reeks of it.
(Really, though, there is a plot for the first part of the book/movie - a plot of forbidden love and the discovery of many secrets. But nothing that really gets the ball rolling. Or the blood flowing, YOU MIGHT SAY.)
The novels are written, um... Well, they're not fine literature, that's for sure. They're written exactly the way a tween would want to read them. Easy, not too many long sentences, and there's absolutely nothing to read into. Everything is spelled out in black and white. You don't have to use your imagination too much, except to picture EDWARD'S perfection. And there are over one hundred allusions to EDWARD'S beauty and perfection and loveliness. It gets to be a bit much, yes, but didn't we all feel that way when we were teenagers and we were in LOVE after two weeks of "dating" which really meant maybe seeing your boyfriend at the mall and maybe holding his hand and maybe kissing, but not frenching because in your mind that would mean that the next step was sex and you were only thirteen and just starting shaving your legs a year ago. I mean, I don't know.
The thing is...
Reading this book and seeing the film were both somehow powerful experiences. Take away the drivel, the high school antics, and the whole vampire thing, and it's a simple love story. And as you read the book or view the film, it takes you back. Remembering the beginnings of that one relationship. The only one that matters. Finally, the person you've been waiting for. This was made all the more powerful for me, now that I have found that person.
(I'll give you all a moment to vomit, of course.)
The film, though? It was good. It really was. Even Mike liked it. He'll never read the books, but as soon as we left the theater, he wanted to know the plots of the remaining novels. I had to pause before getting into the "plot" of the fourth book, because... well, you know. If you've read it, you'll recognize the reason for my hesitation. Explaining the plot of Breaking Dawn probably made me look like an escaped mental patient. I half expected him to counter with, "And you liked this book?" Well, no, not liked, per se. Couldn't put it down because of the utter ridiculousness of the story, but also because I cared about these characters. Not reading them reminded me of each and every time I gave up pop for Lent. Withdrawal.
So now that I've seen this film twice in less than thirty-six hours, all I can say is that I want to see it again. And I can't really explain why. I loved the changes that the director and screenwriter made, especially the amazing long shots of the Pacific Northwest as Edward and Bella hung out in trees, just chatting. I think that the film made good use of the material and upped the ante, so to say. Of course, there were many things that the film was unable to fully stress - their love for one another, mainly. The film was too rushed and didn't take the time to show how they got to know each other.
Of course, none of this matters. Work on the second film has been greenlit, and while I think that it has the potential to be even more depressing than Atonement, it will definitely be exciting with all of the angst, rampant fursploding, and daring suicide attempts!
(Mike just sent me the following text, "Hi love... Edward is Cedric Diggory... I didn't realize that right away." I responded something like, "Yeah, that's why I was so excited to see the movie!" His response? "Too bad he wasn't impossibly fast when faced with Voldemort."
And that, my friends, is just one of the many reasons that I love my boyfriend.)
