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My Queue
001- The Girl on the Bridge
A despondent girl named Adele (Vanessa Paradis) is about to take a swan dive off a bridge into the Seine River when she's rescued by Gabor (Daniel Auteuil), a knife thrower who needs a human target for his show. The luckless Adele agrees, and together the pair thrives, winning a fortune gambling when not performing their act. But fate conspires to separate the duo, who find they need each other to maintain their lucky streak.
002- The Spiderwick Chronicles
When city-raised twins Jared and Simon (both played by Freddie Highmore) move to an old country mansion with their mother (Mary-Louise Parker) and sister (Sarah Bolger), it's quite an adjustment -- especially when they uncover a magical and sometimes dangerous fantasy world. Based on the best-selling children's books, this family adventure populated with all manner of fanciful creatures co-stars Joan Plowright, David Strathairn and Nick Nolte.
003- Atonement
In this drama based on the critically acclaimed novel by Ian McEwan, a childhood lie irrevocably changes the lives of several people forever. When 13-year-old Briony Tallis (Saoirse Ronan) misinterprets a moment of flirtation between her older sister Cecilia (Keira Knightley) and a servant's son, Robbie Turner (James McAvoy), her confusion causes her to finger Robbie as the perpetrator of a crime. Brenda Blethyn and Vanessa Redgrave co-star in this Oscar nominee for Best Picture.
004- Romulus, My Father
Based on the critically acclaimed memoir of the same name, this heart-wrenching drama follows Romulus (Eric Bana), a flawed yet deeply committed father who struggles to raise his son in the face of his wife's (Franka Potente) mental illness and neglectful ways. Set in rural Australia, the film is an ode not only to a father who overcomes insurmountable odds, but also to a nation and its breathtaking landscapes.
005- Zelary
This gorgeously shot World War II drama tells the story of a clash between two different worlds and two different people. Eliska, a nurse in a city hospital, donates her blood to save the life of injured mountain-dweller Joza, and the two form a strong bond. When the resistance group Eliska belongs to is discovered by the Gestapo, she's forced to seek refuge with Joza, leaving her urban life behind and starting anew in the remote mountains.
006- Cherish
Zoe (Robin Tunney) is a shy San Francisco computer animator who, while heading home after a few drinks one night, is forced into her car by a stalker, who steers her into a police officer. The stalker flees, and Zoe's left with a dead cop, a high blood-alcohol level and a story no one believes. Can she prove her innocence and evade the man who's still watching her?
007- La Haine
French director Mathieu Kassovitz's jolting drama traces a fateful day in the lives of alienated ghetto youths Vinz (Vincent Cassel), Saïd (Saïd Taghmaoui) and Hubert (Hubert Koundé) -- a Jew, an Arab and an African, respectively. When their friend Abdel ends up comatose after a police beating, Vinz -- who's come into possession of a gun -- vows to dispense rough justice, sealing the destiny of all three. Benoît Magimel also stars.
008- The Jane Austen Book Club
Six book club members find their lives resemble a modern-day version of Jane Austen's novels in this drama. Sylvia's (Amy Brenneman) husband of 20-plus years has walked out; Jocelyn (Maria Bello) breeds dogs to escape loneliness; Prudie (Emily Blunt) dreams of other men; Bernadette (Kathy Baker) hopes to find Mr. Right; Allegra (Maggie Grace) has issues with her girlfriend; and Grigg (Hugh Dancy), the only man, wonders why he's even in the club.
009- Yes
A love affair develops between an American woman (Joan Allen) and a Middle Eastern man (Simon Abkarian) in this tale of religion, politics and sex. Tired of her loveless marriage with her politician husband (Sam Neill), the woman embarks on a journey through London, Belfast, Beirut and Havana with her Lebanese lover. But if their passionate romance is to last, they must each overcome cultural and personal prejudices. Shirley Henderson co-stars.
010- Reservation Road
The lives of Ethan (Joaquin Phoenix) and his wife, Grace (Jennifer Connelly), are thrown into chaos after their 10-year-old son is killed in a hit-and-run accident. When the case stalls, Ethan makes it his mission to hunt down and punish the person responsible. Violence, revenge and justice collide head on when Ethan finally finds the man who killed his son. Mark Ruffalo co-stars.
011- The Island on Bird Street
Amidst the Nazi occupation of Poland, 11-year old Alex (Jordan Kiziuk) is separated from his family and finds shelter in an abandoned house. Kept company by a mouse and comforted by his father's (Patrick Bergin) promise to find him, Alex finds strength by reading Robinson Crusoe. With a loft as his secret-hideaway home base, Alex puts his survival skills to the test while dodging the Nazis. This award-winning drama is based on a true story.
012- The Darjeeling Limited
Following the death of their father, three brothers (Adrien Brody, Owen Wilson and Jason Schwartzman) embark on a journey on the cross-India train the Darjeeling Limited and attempt to reconnect after years of physical and emotional distance. The trip also opens up some old wounds and proves that their sibling rivalry can never be completely erased. Natalie Portman and Anjelica Huston co-star in Wes Anderson's lyrical comic drama.
013- Cyrano de Bergerac
Cyrano de Bergerac (Gerard Depardieu) pines for his cousin Roxanne, but won't reveal his affections for fear that she'll find his ugly features off-putting. So, Cyrano instructs the studly but stupid Christian how to woo her. Roxanne is entranced by Christian's beautiful poetry and letters -- all ghosted by Cyrano. But Christian dies in battle before he can tell Roxanne the truth. Depardieu won the Best Actor award at Cannes for his performance.
014- The Descent
A pleasure caving trip turns frightful in this horror film written and directed by Neil Marshall. Six girlfriends, led by thrill seeker Juno (Natalie Mendoza), go spelunking a year after a tragic incident. But when they get trapped under the earth, all rationale escapes them as they start to suffer from limited oxygen and delusions -- or are they? Now, the friends must find a way to escape the cave and the murky creatures that lie within it.
015- Wristcutters: A Love Story
Trapped in an alternate world populated by suicide victims, a band of souls tries to find an escape route in Goran Dukic's quirky fantasy. Although he took his own life, Zia (Patrick Fugit) isn't ready for such a grim hereafter, particularly when he learns that his ex-girlfriend also killed herself. On a quest to find her, he befriends a jaded hitchhiker and a Russian rocker, and together, they set out in search of a more appealing afterlife.
016- Sweet Land
In Ali Selim's Independent Spirit Award-winning tale of how love triumphs over ignorance, German immigrant Inge tells her life story to her grandson after burying her husband on their farm in Minnesota in 1968. Inge begins her tale in 1920, when she's just become a mail-order bride to Norwegian-American farmer Olaf. Discovering that Inge's heritage is actually German, both Olaf and the community struggle to overcome years of anti-German propaganda and prejudice.
017- Wind Chill
From director Gregory Jacobs and executive producers George Clooney and Steven Soderbergh comes this chilling highway horror flick starring Ashton Holmes, Emily Blunt and Martin Donovan. While driving home for Christmas break, two college students find their vehicle broken down on a deserted road where the souls of all who have perished there return to haunt them.
018- Walk on Water
American-born Israeli director Eytan Fox lenses this contemporary road movie that takes its Israeli characters to Berlin as they attempt to understand the role that the past still plays in the lives of young Israeli and German people. Stars Lior Ashkenzai, Carola Ranier, Hans Tischler, Israeli Gideon Shemer and Yousuf Swaid. The soundtrack includes tunes by Esther Ofarim, Bruce Springsteen, Telepopmusic and Gigliola Cinquetti.
019- Lady in White
When a Halloween prank traps young Frankie Scarlatti (Lukas Haas) in a school coat closet, he witnesses the replay of a girl's death. Narrowly escaping the grip of her unseen killer, Frankie vows to help solve the murder and exonerate a wrongly accused janitor. All the while, the legend of the ghostly lady in white lingers. Writer-director Frank LaLoggia composed the film's musical score and plays the adult Frankie.
020- My Summer of Love
Director Pawel Pawlikowski's BAFTA award-winning film juxtaposes the secret longings of two very different young women: the smart Mona (Natalie Press), who's deeply bored and tired of the poverty of her everyday life, and the rich Tamsin (Emily Blunt), who's long ceased to be impressed with her well-heeled life. When their worlds collide unexpectedly, they sense an immediate attraction, but can their unusual friendship survive their differences?
Profile
- Are you a Netflix member?
- Of course
- Are you a Netflix employee?
- No.
- What is your (apx) "Reviewer Rank" Number?
- 353
- What is your (Anonymous) Friends Link? (the code on the right side of Invite Friends)
- http://www.netflix.com/BeMyFriend/P6cDzH202IiNHxFDuYXo
- What is your Outward Profile page URL (find yourself on one of your friend's lists, and click back to see yourself)
- http://www.netflix.com/StrangerProfile?prid=121801279&lnkctr=MD...
- A Small Set Of My Favorite Movies
- The Devil's Backbone
Yes
Amelie
The Proposition (set in Australia)
Sin City
American Beauty
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Closer
- What I Snack on in Movie Theaters
- Occasionally a giant box of Milk Duds, but usually just water.
- About Me:
- Simple Sums
or
he said I wasn’t good in math
in the beginning, god made me
the little one that made us three
addition brought us four, five, six
and what a living hell, that mix
so then we did some take away
the end product, a sorry day
well, five from six remaindered me
‘til I found one, oh glory be
in my beginning, we made two
one square, one half, an odd make do
explicit functions and whoopee
increased our number then by three
but fuzzy logic caught square’s eye
and that was that, the end of five
no pi for me, a finite set
subtract the square and four I get
in equal number we were four
positive, perfect, no more war
yet all left home, first three, then two
farewell last one, our four was through
a short-lived pause ‘cause three came back
we hug, we kiss, we then unpack
she brought her love, her number one
and in her oven a wee bun
an empty set I’ll face one day
my own exponential decay
then all will read my epitaph
“Here Lies a Girl Who Knew Her Math!”
At least try Ray Lamontagne before turning off...
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All is well with you, then?
Curses! I got too cute and was foiled by the 200 character limit on Netflix notes. I was not commanding you to watch the muppet version of "Oklahoma!" but rather I was commanding myself to watch the human version. Sorry!
My only regret in moving will be leaving my current supervisor who has been angelically patient with my frequent mistakes. He has nurtured my brain on a steady diet of his powerful thinking. The new job will have more responsibility with commensurately greater autonomy along with more resources and better facilities. My office will have a view of the mountains. I was lucky to get the job.
[:-)] Mark
P.S.
By the way, "Under the Sun" has been on on my "very tempting" list for a long time. Sadly, I had watched the preview before getting your warning. The plot seems to include a love-triangle. Those are always distressing to me. I feel that true love and conflicted loyalties are strictly incompatible. As they said of square-dances, in the Old West: "You dance with the one that brung you."
By contrast, "Jane Austen Book Club" was much more formulaic and though I found reasons to love it myself, the film seems much more hit-or-miss for a general audience. For you in particular, it might not be a "hit" and therefore safer to "miss" instead. I have been preparing a Big Giant Discussion ™ on all the various films inspired by Jane Austen. My notes are still only half-baked but let me give you a taste of the "Jane Austen Book Club" section. This film is an effervescent confection. If you answer the dinner-bell expecting a banquet then you will be leaving the table hungry and grumbling.
In part, "Jane Austen Book Club" won me over by acknowledging it's own fluffiness. Early on, two of the characters meet in line for a cinematic adaptation of "Mansfield Park" by Jane Austen. Both had seen it before and each preferred the book but one was more forgiving:
"Isn't some Jane Austen better that no Jane Austen?"
"Nuh-oooooooo!" the other wails, in plaintive reply.
So, the film warned me, going in, that I might be disappointed and made it hard for me to complain later. I loved that!
How well do you know your Jane Austen? When I wrote that my mother had read "Pride & Prejudice" for me, you wondered why she had not chosen Elizabeth Wharton or Henry James instead (incidental, "Americans In Paris" features both, since you have mentioned that you love reading). Significant enjoyment of "Jane Austen Book Club" came from matching characters in the film against their counterparts from the books.
As examples, from your queue, chosen at random, I think that "The Commitments" or "The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio" might be better bets than "Jane Austen Book Club" for you. No pressure. Remember that I queued "Sin City" against your advice. If you opt for taking a chance, then, giving little away, watch for Jimmy Smits mowing a lawn in disheveled perplexity. There follows a scene of tricky, conflicting emotions, with Amy Brenneman. Her character reproaches his, for the awkward familiarity that his tending of her garden implies. As a couple, these two really nail it! There is more that I could write about this pair, if you see the film. Unfairly, it is Hugh Dancy and Emily Blunt, as individuals, who get most of the press, in the member reviews at Netflix.
My work is solitary, often just me at the computer for long hours. I do enjoy writing and also reading but these are also solitary pursuits. Though warmly appreciated, writing to my friend in Honduras was like a black hole: my words went in and nothing came back out. Trading notes with you is a pleasant change and is much easier because I can respond to some of your points instead of inventing all of the topics myself.
[:-)] Mark
P.S.
Do you remember a period in April when I was preoccupied with preparing and delivering a big presentation? In consequence, I received a lateral transfer and will be moving to Salt Lake City, Utah, next week. I will visit my parents for a week, in Toronto, on the way, and I am not yet sure when renewed internet access will allow me to resume correspondence.
In the meantime, I am leaving you a story that was originally written for my friend. It is a true story. I am not sufficiently imaginative for a work of fiction. If you can pace yourself, it might last until my return. I would not subject you to this junk except that you have been very tolerant of my writing, even complimentary.
We were seated at the window of a diner and watched through the glass, in futility (and fascination), as our truck rolled back to crumple the pickup behind. Now, that pickup was a robust vehicle. It might have fared better under normal crash conditions but our truck had a raised suspension, for greater clearance of obstacles, off-road. That put our bumper in line with the grill and head-lights of the pickup. Free of its moorings, our truck got rolling. Destruction ensued.
Hélèn sprang up at once and made for the door. We scraped-back our chairs and stood to follow but she waved us off and bade us resume our meal. She was not a woman to brook dissent. We sat. We ate. We watched the scene unfold, vigilant for any signal that she invited assistance, or at least promised tolerance.
She inspected the wreck as might a hummingbird, flitting from point to point. She bobbed down, to check the undercarriage, then popped up, to peer at the far-side fenders, craning for a better look. All the while, she seemed to be in conversation with herself. She was well versed in expletives and I suspect that she took inventory. Mercifully, with glass and distance intervening, I did not catch her words. Let me posit "Oh, deary-me!" for the sake of decorum.
Meanwhile, the owner of the mangled pickup had emerged from an adjacent building. His hat was tall and it's brim was wide. A kerchief was his necktie. Jutting from beneath worn Levi's, his boots were tooled and pointy. He did not walk, he moseyed. He was a cowboy. Cue tumble-weed. Cue mournful harmonica.
As he reached the scene, she turned to face him. He was standing on rubble of orange plastic, which had once been his turn signal. Our truck was unscathed. Under the circumstances, he had some cause for discontent. There might have been trouble then but no, that would come a bit later. In a gallant gesture, he removed his hat with one hand and held out a small bouquet with the other. She saw the flowers. Her eyes went wide. It was then that the trouble started.
Time slowed and he stood frozen, held by her steady gaze. In any demolition, there is a long, long moment between plunging of the detonator and the first explosion. There is likewise the interval by which lightning precedes thunder. In moments such as these, brave men jump on grenades. Cowards like me scramble for the exit, but it was too late.
She let him have it.
She became like a focused hurricane, blowing only in his direction. He was pounded by waves of invective, driven by her gale-force rage. She snatched the flowers and cast them in the gutter. Arms flailing, she berated him in semaphore: hands on head, hands held high, hands on hips -- no static configuration of appendages could adequately convey her fury. She put a scolding finger very close to his nose. He gave it a glance, then he grinned. She redoubled her efforts.
At long last, she grew winded, and the storm petered out. She just stood there, arms akimbo, breathing hard. She absently tamed a stray wisp of hair, with an unconscious stroke of her hand. Some associates of The Cowboy had gathered to spectate his misfortune. As the tirade abated, they began to chuckle. She glanced in that direction and silence fell.
She then resumed her scrutiny of The Cowboy. He stared right back. Shifting her weight to one hip, she crossed her arms and then raised her eyebrows in a silent challenge. We held our breath. With slow deliberation, The Cowboy replaced his hat, tugging at the brim in salute, as he did so. At that, to our amazement, she almost smiled. He then stepped back, turned on his heel and ambled away. His friends stood aside to let him let him pass. None met his eye as he trod the measure of that human colonnade.
With a satisfied nod, and a parting glare for the assembled onlookers, Hélèn then returned to the diner. Resuming her seat, she picked at her salad, humming softly to herself between fork-fulls. The rest of us focused on our plates, keeping our heads down. We strained to eat quietly, with minimal clinking of cutlery. At one point, it looked as though Joel might ask her for the salt. I kicked him under the table.
He could not have known that Hélèn was often plagued by unwanted advances, though she did nothing to invite them. Any stray tendrils of her otherwise disciplined hair had assuredly worked themselves free. No strand had been left unbound as a deliberate artifice, that is certain. She portrayed herself as "lanky" when she might have played "willowy" just as well, had she but given herself direction. She simply did not care to bother. She was tough and smart and sought to impress on that basis alone. Rightly so! Still, she had beauty enough and by dint of her own indifference she became like an attic treasure -- an objet trouvé, a garage-sale find -- as if a veil of dust and cobwebs concealed a long-lost Botticelli. I sometimes wondered if less dowdy comportment might have limited her amorous petitioners to only the boldest of men. As it was, she drew notice from all and sundry, each flattering himself to think that he had made a discovery and further supposing that novelty would lend his attentions greater appeal. No. In fact, "No" was her constant refrain, with sometimes "No!" for variety.
Some lingering mysteries remain. To this day, I still wonder how The Cowboy produced his impromptu bouquet, on the spur of the moment, so to speak. I do have a guess: the buildings along the street were rich in windowbox planters and I suspect that he made an illicit withdrawal. I'm also not sure where he went -- on foot! His pickup had been towed when next we drove through town. We never saw him again. Cue sunset. Reprise harmonica.
On the other hand, sometimes describing the "the cut of her gown or the height of her heels" might also prove amusing. Let me try... It just so happens that I have a story on that topic. Some friends of mine got married at a matrimony multiplex: a facility that resembles a sprawling warren of theaters but with many wedding chapels and banquet halls in place of multiple projection rooms. Packed with countless bridal parties, the lobby was like the prom scene from a very low budget horror film. Zoikers! One set of bride's maids wore backless, bias cut, floor length, neon orange, sheath dresses (and by "backless" I mean "plumber's cleavage" -- that's how low). These dresses were a parody of glamor, like something that Ginger might wear to vamp Gilligan. With limited leg room, each maid was reduced to a brisk waddle, tottering along on mile-high heels. I believe that sack-race locomotion might have proven more effective, with no further loss of dignity.
A woman at work was griping that her sister had inherited all of the china when their grandmother died. Somehow she came to ask if I had ever inherited anything from my grandmothers. "A lick of stubborn from my Nana," I said, "and perhaps a certain flair for the dramatic from my Baba." It was Baba who told more stories. So, if anything, I get my inclination to try from her.
My father spent summers on the farm of his grandparents. At harvest time, his grandfather would cut the wheat by hand. Row after row, he steadily paced the fields, with his swinging scythe in perpetual motion -- a tireless human metronome, he was -- unzipping the field, standing grain stretched-out ahead, on the one side, cut stalks laid low on the other and behind, in his wake. My great-grandmother followed along, bent at the waist, stooped all day, as she stooked the sheaves of fallen wheat -- gather, twist, repeat, with the emphasis on repeat. The harvest scenes in "Sweet Land" were some of my favorites.
Oh no. I am all about the way that a film makes me feel but that is harder to put into words. Plus, it is hard to debate feelings because each person's feelings are valid and logic need not apply. So, I usually focus on the more tangible aspects of a film, when offering points for discussion. Furthermore, my interest in deconstructing films follows a little from my interest in telling stories. When a film fails to affect me emotionally, I can sometimes identify a technical issue that was a distraction.
[:-)] Mark
P.S.
I thought of a quote from "The Sound of Music" to use in our "Lars and the Real Girl" debate, or perhaps "discussion" is a more appropriate word. I was somewhat incredulous that Lars would be ordering a synthetic "real girl" when a perfectly charming, actual-factual "real girl" was already so clearly interested. I give you now the words of Baroness Schräder: "There's nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him."
It always makes me very happy to hear that. Music is my other big obsession. It takes a loooot of trial and error before you really get to the good stuff, but it's so amazing when you find a new love.
[:-)] Mark
I agree with you that "Jesus Christ Superstar" showed Pontius Pilate as sympathetic. The lyrics to "Pilate's Dream" seem to make that pretty clear. Also, the whole musical seems intended to put an unconventional slant on the familar Bible stories; casting Pontius Pilate as ambivalent, if not benevolent fits that theme. I got the impression that Pilate resented playing the patsy. The might of Rome need not have concerned itself with a peacful upstart, if the priests and rabbis had not fomented trouble by string-up public resentment. By the way, notice that Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber called dibs on Mary Magdalene, long befor "The Davinci Code" and "The Matrix" came along.
Mild is harder to play than wild so I give Frances McDormand more credit for "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day" and "Fargo" but the contrast to her performance in "Laurel Canyon" is what proves her genius. She can go both ways, as "Laurel Canyon" demonstrates. Continuing the theme of subtle vs. brazen, the arc of the husband in "Laurel Canyon" was much more engaging than that of the wife. She was so reckless, with little justification, that she did not invite empathy. By contrast, the husband seemed trapped by circumstances that were not entirely of his choosing. The scenes between him and the female doctor had the most nuanced acting and were my favorites of the film. The precipitous downward spiral of the wife was utterly predictable and yet hardly credible. She went from doctoral dissertation to doing drugs in the blink of an eye and with no discernible motivation aside from slight malaise. The plot felt rushed there, as if the writer had bypassed "cause" in order to reach "effect" immediately and then wallow in the consequences. The trick to writing a fall from grace is making the character seem victimized by fate, allowing the audience to cringe and panic as the oncoming train barrels along, with the oblivious character standing on the tracks.
I knew that the wife was doomed when she removed her glasses.
When I mentioned "Miss Potter" you then justified your rating. When I mentioned "Mrs. Henderson Presents" you then justified your rating. I only mentioned those films for possible interesting parallels with "Becoming Jane" and "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day" respectively. Just to be clear, when I mention a film, in passing, I might not be advocating that film or questioning your assessment. I am just making conversation.
For me, Judi Dench in "Mrs. Henderson Presents" was so remiscent of my Nana. Both were indomitably English, as only the English can be. Like the Judi Dench character, Nana could be irreverent, while retaining ladylike dignity, whenever she felt that decorum cramped her style. Her ascerbic wit was very dry, to match her preference in martinis. I am not very courageous. Nana was. Sometimes, when the chips are down, I can feel little bits of her DNA at work on my behalf. Through the miracle of genetics, Nana lives in me.
And then we reach the scene in which Judi Dench employs an extreemly vulgar word. Insert the sound of a needle scratched accross a record here. In his commentary, the director of "Mrs. Henderson Presents" claimed that using that word was essential to portrayal of the Judi Dench character. Well, that director had never met my Nana. Ascerbic and irreverent? Nana was. A spitfire? Indubitably. But vulgar? NEVER!
Once, when my family was moving, my parents threw a farewell party in reverse, inviting all of their friends, in order to see them one last time. My grandmother was visiting from England to help with the move. My mother had invited a dear yet uninhibited girlfriend: a woman who was free with profanity as almost a dare to people who might object. In conversing with my grandmother, this woman uncorked an especially potent combination of words, without really thinking. Nana fainted. She actually fainted from shock. Afterwords, both Nana and the woman were deeply apologetic, each regretting any distress to the other.
I know nothing of "Twilight" but saw the trailer and wondered if the vampiric theme might appeal to a "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" aficionado.
I thought that "Tully" was a great character study. It had a slow, sultry quality and the sort of abiding calm that a porch swing bestows at twilight, as one sits counting the lightning bugs. I got a little nervous when it came to the swimmin' hole scenes. Nowadays, those kids would've gotten nekid. But you know what? That scene worked just fine with everybody respectable.
What's with Kansas women on bicycles? You, the "Tully" woman, Dorothy... Actually, the setting for "Tully" was not Kansas, I guess. The male lead only mentioned that is character had moved to Kansas but -- whatever! -- close enough.
Among other things, I thought that "Sin City" was an example of using computers to brilliant effect. It was all shot in color, in front of a "green screen" with backgrounds digitally inserted, in post production, and color removed, to give a stark pen-and-ink effect. The whole thing was artistic to the nines! Brilliant. Despite the droll film-noir voice-overs, the characters were engaging and the plots were compelling, packed with drama and suspense. Plus, the film made you care about that big palooka who was looking for Goldie and the Bruce Willis character also, as he languished in jail, first with letters as solace and then with none -- poignant!
I am not offended by fake violence because it's fake. I am, however disturbed by the actual nudity of an actress because that represents loss of privacy for a real person -- the actress herself, as opposed to her character. As a cartoon, "You Me and Everyone We Know" would have disturbed me far less. As a cartoon, I could have dismissed the (distasteful) story as fiction. It was the real-life exposure of child actors to adult situations that bothered me.
I need to wrap here so thoughts on "The Air I Breath" must wait. Or let me just say that it does interwoven stories like "Crash" but less effectively and without the social commentary. Not so horrid that you should avoid judging for yourself perhaps. There, it really warrents not further discussion.
[:-)] Mark
P.S.
You had informed me that Jessica Alba remained clothed -- she demanded that in her contract, I've read -- but you neglected to mention the nudity of other female characters. Thanks a lot! A couple of scenes caught me off guard. If not for catlike reflects in shielding my eyes, I might suffered retinal scaring.
You are most welcome to use my ramblings on "Jesus Christ Superstar" in any way that is of service to you. In fact, I hope that you felt at liberty to proceed, without waiting for this belated authorization.
I once saw Donny Osmond in a live performance of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" and was surprisingly blown away. Of course, it is a light-hearted role but I had still feared that he might still be too "cotton-candy" for the part -- you know, overly sweet emptiness. No. He was great. He did keep it light but still managed to punch me in the gut on some of the less happy notes. He has been quoted as saying that he was born for that part and I tend to agree. Even so, I am leery of a version that boasts multiple Osmonds. Plus, to me, each Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals seems to have a surreal quality that lends itself to live staging, with a minimalist set, allowing the audience to experience the show as if it were a dream. Substituting location shots of real scenery has never worked for these musical, in my opinion.
I am in complete agreement with your assessment of "Miss Potter" and was surprised, upon checking, to discover that I had given the film four stars. Then it all came back to me. I had seen "Miss Potter" and judged it a well constructed film -- and "constructed" is absolutely the right word, somehow -- but a certain je ne sais quoi was lacking. Let us review. Charming romantic leads? Check. Fetching too? Check. Did they make Beatrix Potter a feminist, without being too preachy? Check. Gorgeous cinematography of the English countryside? Check. Semblance of historical accuracy without seeming a documentary? Check. Clever use of period social conventions to heighten romantic tension? Check. In fact, bravo! The reticence of the romantic leads would be absurd by modern standards but Renée Zellweger and Ewan McGregor seemed believably and poignantly torn between attraction and decorum. Now for the big question: great film? Alas no.
Upon reflection, I had initially given "Miss Potter" only three stars but then saw "Becoming Jane" and "Miss Potter" gained a star by comparison. I went through the same check-list for both films and rated "Becoming Jane" as less successful in every category. That was the intended gist of my Netflix Note.
It has just dawned on me that I only gave "Becoming Jane" two stars, so I can drop "Miss Potter" to three, without making the two films equal. I will make that change now. Hang on for a moment... Done!
From your tone, we seem to be in complete agreement on "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day" but let me offer some points of discussion that you did not mention explicitly. Like you, I found the "franticness" of Amy Adams almost overdone but I suspect that she was instructed to play the part this way. The wood-chipper in "Fargo" and Amy Adams play the same role. Each is intended as a stormy sea that drives us to Frances McDormand, as a calm safe-harbor. I suspect that Amy Adams took one for the team and deliberately played her part larger-than-life, thus enabling Frances McDormand to seem even more quiet, mousy and reserved, by comparison.
I also suspect that "Miss Petigrew Lives for a Day" was intended to contrast two very different portrayals of England between the wars. There was the glamorous Hollywood version, embodied by Amy Adams and the harsh reality, personified by Frances McDormand. On the one hand, we were given all the stock characters for any Hollywood film of the thirties. Here is a list: the ingenue (Amy Adams), the cad (nightclub owner), the hero (piano player) and the vamp (Shirley Henderson). The young theater producer was also a stock character, but I can't put a name to that role, though "dandy" and "man about town" come to mind, without quite fitting. Amy Adams was perhaps intended to represent the superficiality of Hollywood. So, she was supposed to seem disingenuous, though it bugged me to (perhaps by design).
In stark contrast, we have Frances McDormand and the gentleman who becomes her suitor, who is perhaps our avatar, in the film, to some degree. He starts in the world of haute couture but ends up choosing sturdy woolen socks instead. I suspect that we are meant to take that journey with him. We are prompted, by brilliant performances, to chose reality over fantasy. Even with all of that, there was still a thimble-full of fairy-dust missing -- as with "Miss Potter" -- and I gave "Miss Petigrew Lives for a Day" only three stars.
I have typed in haste and, in consequence, my thesis of the preceding paragraph came out a bit highfalutin. Pardon me for being fustian.
If you enjoyed the setting and style of "Miss Petigrew Lives for a Day" then I wonder what your thoughts on "Miss Henderson Presents" might be. The song and dance numbers of the latter were far superior! Amy Adams is no singer. The overall tone and lavish costuming were on par and at a high level. I give Frances McDormand a very slight edge over Judi Dench, though each is a master of subtlety, in her own way.
[:-)] Mark
P.S.
Have you seen the trailer for "Twilight" yet? Pretender or heir to the throne? I defer to your expertise on vampiric themes.
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