One Sentence

If you're thinking about seeing Up, stop thinking about it and go see it.... now.

Les Poupées Russes

Here's a cute tune by Seti from the movie I watched for the second time around last night, Russian Dolls. I liked it more last night than I recall liking it a year or so ago. This is probably for reasons that have little to do with the movie itself and much to do with misdirected anger. I'd venture to say it's not quite on par with its predecessor, L'auberge Espagnole, but I was thoroughly entertained all the same. Romain Duris, who takes the lead, is your consummate everyman and an excellent actor to boot (if you haven't seen Le Peril Jeune or De Battre Mon Coeur S'est Arrêté (The Beat That My Heart Skipped), I recommend them). In fact, I'd say that every other actor chosen for the movie has real chops too. The expressions, intonation and overall timing are so spot on, it's a small joy to watch it all come together.

Xavier (Duris) ends the movie comparing the search for the so-called "one" to my beloved nesting dolls...

If I think about all the girls I've known or slept with or just desired, they're like a bunch of Russian dolls. We spend our lives playing the game dying to know who'll be the last, the teeny-tiny one hidden inside all the others. You can't just get to her right away. You have to follow the progression. You have to open them one by one wondering, "Is she the last one?"

As my sister and I used to say (in master-of-the-obvious tone): "Hence, the title of the movie."

Lego My Thoughts

I've had New York on the mind since watching Hannah and Her Sisters last weekend (NY is practically its own character in the movie) and Subway Stories last night. Time for another visit to the brother. A few of these Lego creations are universal, but the creator had New York on his mind all the way from Berlin as he watched his kid play with Legos. Cute.

As for the movies, Subway Stories kept my attention (which is saying a lot after a 12 hour workday and 6 hours in a car with my boss), but I can't help feeling there's a lot more potential with the subject than comes to light in the film. It's not bad, but I'd hoped for a little more when the focus is odd encounters on the NY subway.

Hannah and Her Sisters, on the other hand, was a winner. I don't know how I managed to overlook this Woody Allen movie, but I'm glad that's now been remedied. It portrays familial and romantic dynamics in spot-on fashion, highlighting flaws and blunders that don't necessarily become known to all parties. Leave it to Woody to make it all okay, mostly free of judgment, and even an expectation. Of course there are so many classic lines speckled throughout that I hate to pick a few and ruin them without context, but... (c/o IMDB)...

Frederick (pretentious artist):

You see the whole culture. Nazis, deodorant salesmen, wrestlers, beauty contests, a talk show. Can you imagine the level of a mind that watches wrestling? But the worst are the fundamentalist preachers. Third grade con men telling the poor suckers that watch them that they speak with Jesus, and to please send in money. Money, money, money! If Jesus came back and saw what's going on in his name, he'd never stop throwing up.

Woody's Dad:

How the hell do I know why there were Nazis? I don't know how the can opener works!

Mickey (Woody, hypochondriac) - on a suicidal urge:

A week ago I bought a rifle, I went to the store - I bought a rifle! I was gonna, you know, if they told me I had a tumor, I was gonna kill myself. The only thing that might-ve stopped me - MIGHT'VE - is that my parents would be devastated. I would have to shoot them also, first. And then I have an aunt and uncle - you know - it would've been a blood bath.

Mickey (Woody) - watching joggers in Central Park:

Look at all these people, trying to stave off the inevitable decay of their bodies.

Yeah, it's far superior delivered by the actors, but I couldn't help. Just see it for yourself if you haven't already.

thx cup of jo

A Movie and a Song

It's a rainy weekend here in Chicago, the kind that's perfecto for staying in and watching movie after movie. Too bad I have to start working soon. Bleh. I just finished watching "Penelope," which is a really cute and colorful modern fairytale that delivers a sweet message about accepting yourself as you are, snout and all. Yeah, yeah. But, come on, we can all use those reminders here and there. Some of the best bits come from Penelope's parents, which were brilliantly cast and played by the hilarious Catherine O'Hara (a Christopher Guest regular) and Richard E. Grant (a long-lost love from "Withnail and I").

The movie ends with this infectiously pretty song by Sigur Ros, called Hoppipolla.

Enchanting

These are just two of many adorable watercolors (not all so monochromatic) available for only $18 at Amber Alexander's etsy shop. They are so cute I want to squish them. They remind me of the whimsical work of Michael Sowa, whose paintings I fell in love with after falling in love with the aesthetics of Amelie Poulain (which I now suspect was heavily influenced by the saturated green and red aesthetic of The Double Life of Veronique). Full circle.

Haunted by Stockings

Does this sort of thing happen to everyone? While watching La Double Vie de Véronique, which was made back in 1991, I commented that I wanted to get a pair of the rust red tights like the ones sported by Véronique. Seemed like I hadn't often seen tights in that shade, and it looked very autumnally chic.

I made a mental note of it, but there was no need really because the very next afternoon I’m absentmindedly flipping through a J.Crew catalogue when what do I see but the precise shade of stockings I coveted plastered all over its pages. Then a day or so later I came upon this cryptic pic. I’ll take the stockings, hold the creepy carriage please. Those old-timey carriages always make me think of the one that rolled down the Odessa Steps in The Battleship Potemkin. Maybe it’s just me. Never fear letting this baby go, the precious cargo are ceramic bunnies in bowties and top hats. Fire away!

Anyhow, it’s one of those odd series of events that happens pretty often. It’s like learning a word for what you think is the first time and then suddenly seeing the word everywhere in tarnation. Or maybe it’s not like that at all.

Uncommon Vision

I finally saw The Double Life of Veronique the other night. With a so-so storyline, I don’t see it as Krzysztof Kieslowski’s best, but I liked it enough to watch it twice, and it confirmed my deep love for his vision. This image is one of my favorites from the movie, very much a signature shot that captures a certain smallness, or slowness or exquisiteness in the everyday. Sometimes I think of him as the Milan Kundera of cinema. Without the biting humor.

Although the story wasn’t quite as engaging as I thought and hoped it might be, the underlying idea that there might be another “you” or “me” living another life somewhere out there and giving us virtual company in the process had a charming way of transporting me back to my childhood. Way back when, I’d completely lose myself in those sorts of magical possibilities and all that they entailed. I wonder when I stopped entertaining myself with those fantasies, when I stopped finding so much fascination in every dark nook and cranny I passed. Kieslowski obviously never did. And thank goodness for that.

Sophie's Choices

Finally. Finally I got to see the end of this movie. And finally someone makes a great thriller that doesn't leave me screaming at the screen in anger instead of fear (damn you, Funny Games). About two years ago, during an already heartwrenching return flight from Paris, I started watching this movie. I got about halfway through, and was all-the-way enthralled, when the plane had the audacity to go and land on me. The screen went blank, and so did I. I was officially devastated. Even though a three-year relationship had just come to an end (for the, um, first time), it was the movie that I couldn't get out of my mind.

After I realized it would be some time before Ne les Dis a Personne made its way over the pond to become Tell No One, I did some investigating and discovered that it was based on a book by American author, Harlan Coben. Score! I bought the book straightaway and laid in bed one Saturday 'til I'd finished every word. Coben's writing is a bit meh, to be kind, but who cares when his storytelling's so bedazzling.

I can't recommend the book, but I can and do recommend the movie. A few weeks ago I was sitting at a pub flipping through the local paper when I almost choked on my Stella. There it was, the advertisement for Tell No One. I would have recognized that running man anywhere. Run, doctor, run. It's out in select theaters now and should be available on DVD within the year or so. I won't give anything away, but if you like thrillers, admirable acting chops, and all cracks sealed in the end, then this movie you will love.

Tell No One? No, Tell Everyone.