There's a momentum to movies, a momentum that if lost bears the movies unfinishable. This happened to me twice in the last few weeks. I stepped away, paused the movie, and then decided they couldn't be finished. This is a pretty huge occurrence. I almost always finish movie to a fault. But let's be honest, I'm pretty sure I'll never regret not finishing Green Lantern and Water for Elephants.
And what is with this fish guy's rib cage?
Green Lantern seemed to sap all charisma out of Ryan "charisma is what I bring to the table" Reynolds during its paint-by-numbers origin. I've said it several times, I'll say it for eternity: superhero origin stories are boring. Like, I realize every does a superhero nowadays, but they could at least sometimes be interesting. Please? Plus, the premise of will/green vs. fear/yellow comes off as obtuse on film. And why does every speak English in space if Reyrey is the first human on the Green Lantern team? And why is Blake Lively cast in everything? Guess I'll never know because I walked away.
Honestly, the elephant was probably the most compelling character in the film.
Water for Elephants proved that Robert Pattinson is pretty good looking when he's not wearing 10 pounds of pale white foundation. Reese Witherspoon's costumes were pretty, and Christoph Waltz is a good creepy man. Too bad it was mostly bland, although not terrible. Mostly, the movie got paused, and my g-friend and I decided life coaching each other was a better idea than finishing the movie.
So tell me friends, what movies have been unfinishable for you lately?
Mostly because I'm tracking my Scorsese watching with this blog. Also, Leonardo DiCaprio and SO MUCH BOSTON ACCENTEDNESS.
1. Shutter Island (2010)
Is Martin Scorsese allergic to editing movies to under two hours?
And why didn't he cut down any of the languid middle scenes that were 1) boring, 2) not at all misleading (which was their primary goal), and 3) not furthering the plot?
Speaking of editing, why were there so many editing continuity errors?
Will Jackie Earle Haley ever not play a total creepy creep in a movie?
Should Scorsese stick with realism?
Nice suits, boys.
2. The Departed (2006)
How solidly entertaining was this movie?
Was the reason I liked this movie so much because I liked Infernal Affairs so much?
Does any one miss the anxious masculinity replete in other Scorsese movies, but is skimmed over if present at all in this one?
Why are tightly scripted thrillers like this so rare?
1. Alice Doesn't Live Her Anymore (1974) managed to fly in the face of my auteur-with-a-misogynist-bent idea of Scorsese. Chronicling the life of Alice (Ellen Burstyn) after the death of her husband, we follow her and her son Tommy's (Alfred Lutter) move from New Mexico to Monterey, California, the palce where she was a singer in her youth. In Phoenix, they stop so Alice can earn money as a singer. She gets tangled up with an abusive married man (of course), so they move onto Tuscan where Alice gets work as a waitress. While Tuscan wasn't the end goal, Alice and Tommy find people and things to love there.
This sounds corny and cliche, but the film has a sense of menace that only Scorsese could bring to a woman-coming-into-her-own movie. The abusive relationship with the married man is scary, with the camera capturing long takes of him knocking around furniture and going after both Alice and his wife. Even scenes in the diner that might have been silly and fun in other movies, like diner revolting and throwing food at the one waitress left to serve everyone, are full of real violence. I'm still wondering if I was taking these scenes too sensitively, but I appreciate that he was taking these women's fears seriously enough to make these moments frightening.
Although there were some great light-hearted moments as well, like Tommy making friends with town hooligan Audrey (Jodie Foster) and learning to shoplift. In fact, most things out of Tommy's mouth are golden, capturing the 12-year-old's ability to both be legitimately funny and incredibly obnoxious in equal parts. This is just to say, Alfred Lutter gets Least Annoying Child Actor award for life, wherever he is now.
But the thing that won me over was the camera's focus on Alice. The beginning the film shows our girl Alice's actions with a quick (and usually annoyed) follow-up reaction from her husband, child, or girlfriend as if to indicate that Alice defines herself only by the way other people respond to her. As the movie progresses, I noticed less and less of this camera dwelling on others' reactions as Alice starts to come into her own and discover who she is without a husband, lover, or familiar friends.
Plus, a lot of the reactions were replaced by the rancher who takes interest in Alice. Kris Kristofferson gets to show off his patented Look of Love, especially in a sweet scene where he and Alice are relaxing in the kitchen, half-clothed talking about Alice's childhood and her old dreams. The way Kris (let's be honest, he was probably just playing himself) looks at Alice is full of such sincere interest and affection. It was a nice scene that spoke more of romance than most movies entire.
And while this film indulges a little too much in the histrionic, I found this the most interesting of Scorsese's films that use a meandering plot.
Huge tonal change.
2. Cape Fear (1991). This movie was perfect. You can have your Goodfellas, or Mean Streets, but neither of those two bring it like Cape Fear. First and foremost, the film had a focus: ex-con Max Cady (Robert De Niro) recently released from a 14-year prison sentence wants his lawyer, Sam (Nick Nolte), to suffer because Sam buried a document noting the woman Cady raped was promiscuous which may have lessened Cady's sentence. So with an actual plot, we watch as Cady goes after Sam's dog, his coworker Lori (who Sam spends a lot of time with, although it's not quite an affair), his daughter (Juliette Lewis), and finally his very life. The film gets more and more tense as the movie goes on.
Part of that has to do with giving Sam and family some scenes to show intrafamilial tension as well. Sam and his wife Leigh (Jessica Lange) have had marital problems in the past, so when coworker Lori becomes a victim, it causes the two to argue. So not only is there a psycho messing with them, they're not getting along. And then the daughter is in summer school after being busted from smoking pot, so she's not exactly on good terms with her parents either. But they don't seem to be absolutely shrill to one another either (one of the many reasons American Beauty makes me cringe). They've got some bonds that are keeping them together through this craziness.
I also enjoyed the cinematography in this film. The filmmakers seemed to be having fun as they have objects appear in the foreground of shots or have shot-reverse-shot conversations often defy the 180 degree rule, making everything seem just a little off. And a smattering of Dutch angles add to the disconcerting feel of the movie and also add a sense of old school style. There were also some fun allusions to Scorsese's own work (the opening shot of a shirtless De Niro is reminiscent to his role in Taxi Driver) and other classics (Gregory Peck shows up, and it's awesome).
But the best (er, creepiest) moments where the long scenes where Cady is messing with the family members. Most pronounced is Cady's interaction with Danielle, the 15-year-old daughter. After talking on the phone with her the night before by pretending to be her new drama teacher, Cady has Danielle meet him in the auditorium alone. He treats her like a grown-up and gets her to confess her unhappiness with her parents. He even gets her to confess her interest in sex, talking about literature with notorious sexual descriptions, and even further gets her to allow him to touch her. Juliette Lewis is so good here, being equal parts embarrassed, intrigued, and willing to be rebellious. She's not a completely stupid teenager, but she also craves to be treated like she's older. And Cady's gentle approach is so disturbing because the scene plays out so naturally. (At this point in the movie, I was curled up in a ball saying, "Ew, ew ,ew" over and over again.) De Niro's ability to harness a fine balance between charming and creepy is incredible.
What it comes down to is this: Cape Fear is a perfect thriller, giving enough character development to make the audience care, but also a chipper enough pace to keep the tension high. Recommend.
In recent years, I have taken to repeatedly viewing Kenneth Branagh's 1993 film adaptation Much Ado About Nothing. It's as close to romantic comedy perfection as possible. Taking place in Italy, a household containing the patriarch Leonato (Richard Briers), his innocent and lovely daughter Hero (Kate Beckinsale), Hero's maidservant Margaret (Imelda Saunton), and Hero's saucy and staunchly single cousin Beatrice (Emma Thompson). They are visited by some soldiers fresh from war, the prince Don Pedro (Denzel Washington), the young and lovelorn Claudio (Robert Sean Leonard), the joking and bachelorific Benedick (Kenneth Branagh), and Don Pedro's bastard brother (literally and figuratively) Don John (Keanu Reeves). So pretty much everyone ever is in this movie.
Anyway, the plot is that Claudio wins the love of Hero through the kindly Don Pedro (7th grade style). To kill time in the week interrum before they marry, Don Pedro proposes a plan to get Beatrice and Benedick together. Awesome hijinks ensue. But then Don John is still all bitter about his life situation and jealous about Claudio, so he plans to ruin the wedding. Things get real at the wedding (this is a romcom!), and eventually a death is faked (thanks, Shakespearean priest!). Michael Keaton plays the gross and tedious Dogberry who ends up clearing up the whole misunderstanding, and then there is a celebratory dance!
The overarching story line doesn't interest me so much as the fun Beatrice/Benedick plot. They start off bickering and disagreeing in a fun witty banter sort of way. They exchange insults, and don't hide their dislike for each other. At the masked party (of course), it's revealed that Beatrice and Benedick have some sort of past where Benedick didn't quite love Beatrice as much as she loved him. Apparently things have been hilariously antagonistic ever since. Anway, the rest of the gathering conspires to get them to fall in love. They do this by making sure they are overheard in turn by Benedick and Beatrice talking about how much the other loves them, but how they're too proud to reciprocate. B&B's responses are to prove the conspirators wrong be requiting the love.
How quickly Don Pedro bounces back from Beatrice's refusal. And how awesome his plan is.
As evidenced by his many cinematic forays into the Bard's works, Branagh is one of the few actors that give Shakespearean speech prosody and nuance that sounds familiar to modern audiences. It's really easy to start zoning out when actors start delivering lines in a lovely cadence that shows off the iambic meter, but tends to blur all the words together. But Mr. Branagh actually delivers the lines as if he's expressing the ideas rather than just the beauty of how they are expressed. And Thompson is a very close second in this adaptation, being so sassy with her words.
In fact, the whole cast does a nice job of expressing things in a more conversational way. And as ridiculous as it is to cast Keanu Reeves in Shakespeare, he does an adequate job, mostly in the form of keeping an angry face to match his angry beard. He gets the general ideas across, and does much better when he's not soliloquizing. But overall, the performances are a success.
I could keep extolling the virtues of this movie, including the vibrant lighting and romantic score, but I want to get to the last ShakespeaRe-told adaptation because it was a fabulous.
It starts out with a hint at the backstory between Beatrice and Benedick, with Beatrice (Sarah Parish) being stood up on a date while Benedick (Damian Lewis) hits the road out of town. The story then picks up 3 years later. Beatrice is a local news anchor. Here we meet fair Hero (Billie Piper) and Claude (Tom Ellis) and see their romance start up. But Beatrice's skeevy co-anchor has a bad fall, so Leonard (Martin Jarvis), the boss, decides to bring a former anchor, Benedick, back along with a former director, Peter (Michael Smiley). Also working at the studio is Don (Derek Riddell), a slightly pathetic man who's just been left by his wife and carries a large torch for Hero.
It's actually a fairly faithful adaptation, at least in feeling. Slight changes include the reason Beatrice and Benedick are fooled into loving each other (for the peace of mind of every one who has to work with the bickering pair), simplifying the plot to ruin Claude and Hero's wedding (it's just Don being jealous), cutting down the soldier/security guard parts, and making the ending choices by Hero more realistic and empowering to modern audiences.
When Beatrice "mistakes" Benedick for Claude at the welcome party (in fancy dress of course). Pretty great modern translation, no?
But in the end it's always about Beatrice and Benedick. Sarah Parish is wonderful, playing Beatrice as smart and biting; I do so enjoy seeing sassy women onscreen. And I got a huge kick out of seeing Captain Winters be a sort of sleazy flirt with bad facial hair. Seeing Damian Lewis say "I am horribly in love with her" whilst sliding against a wall makes my life. As made-for-tv contrived the romance is, it comes off well. There are good moments before they fall for each other (thanks to scheming coworkers) that show that they have some things in common, so their liking each other isn't completely out of nowhere. And I just adore a good hate-turned-to-love story.
Anyway, it's worth investigating if you love romantic-comedies as much as I do. Both the 1993 and 2005 version are on YouTube here and here. Enjoy. Watch them back-to-back. You won't regret it.
Welcome back to unofficial Shakespeare week. Let's talk about A Midsummer Night's Dream. It's about 1000 kinds of ridiculous: fairies, broken hearts, love potion, a donkey-man, and a play within a play. But how does one make it more ridiculous?
1. Mismatch male and female costumes. Put the men in vaguely period attire and attach swords. But the women, they must sport 60s dresses with mid-thigh hems and a pair of boots. Also, they must also do nothing with their hair that would be anything but mod.
2. The fairies, let's make them dark green and mostly nude. Except for the children. They can have some clothes.
3. And fairies must move all magically...pray, let's speed up the film slightly and then proceed to record the speech in post-production, but obviously not quite match up the lips. In fact, let's do that to all the speech.
4. And you know what would give it that extra magical feel? Film it on location in a dark, dank forest with extra mud. That way, everything will be the same brown and dark green color.
5. And let's match this minuscule production design budget with world class actors of the Royal Shakespeare Company and get Peter Hall to direct it.
Thus came about the 1968 television adaptation of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It's mostly successful at being entertaining, seeing as how legit actors are delivering their lines like they know what they're saying. It also helps that much of the dialogue is spoken swiftly (one of the benefits of a Shakespeare comedy over a tragedy as they're not trying to make things important by how long it takes them to say something).
Plus, did I mention Judi Dench plays the mostly nude Queen of the Fairies and Helen Mirren is Hermia? Although I believe both of them are upstaged by the unsettling yet awesomely intense performance by Ian Richardson as Oberon the King of the Fairies. Honestly, it's like he was the inspiration for Gene Wilder's Willy Wonka, it is that weird/great.
I'm not sure I can say anything else about how incredible this production is. Do yourself a favor and just watch some highlights of Judi Dench (but look out for Ian Richardson's eyes and the psychedelic editing job):
I hope your brain didn't just explode because now I'm going to talk about the pretty awful (and not in a fun psychedelic way) ShakespeaRe-told version. It's something I would expect to see on ABC Family. I'm not even kidding when I tell you I would rather watch My Fake Fiance again because at least Melissa Joan Hart and Joey Lawerance know they're in a crappy made for TV movie and are fully embracing the tragedy that their respective careers have become (you can see it in their eyes).
The updated version of A Midsummer Night's Dream, however, fails to be whimsical and fun. It kind of loses the magic in all its modernity. The night takes place at a holiday camp in which an engagement is broken off and then lovers are mixed up by love juice (oh, Puck). One odd choice is having the fairies and the mortals interact. Well the father and Oberon do at least, which leads to a superfluous and dorky plot line about bringing the romance back into a long marriage that I guess replaces the play within a play at the end.
Let's all just admit that Oberon is the best part of any adaptation. This time Lennie James got to rock this role.
Helena (Michelle Bonnard) comes off the best in this adaptation because she's less desperate and more sympathetically in love with James (William Ash in the updated Demetrius role). Although taking Helena seriously makes things much more cheesy than outrageously funny. This version also allowed me to see my favorite mambo dancing footballer and mistaken identity brother to the screen (William Ash and Rupert Evans), neither of which are that great of actors, they're mostly just nice to look at. Also, having the donkey-ified dude (Johnny Vegas) do a bad imitation of David Brent's awful/awkard dance from season 2 episode 5 of The Office somehow got a laugh out of me, it was so meta.
Final word: Find the 1968 version on Netflix instant play now. If you're up for it, the Re-told version is on there, too, but I'd probably watch to find My Fake Fiance first. (Found here. You're welcome)
Watching a filmed stage productions is usually pretty boring (musicals being a pretty consistent exception). Rarely do the performances transcend the screen without the aid of editing, music, sets, anything cinematic. I might as well just listen to an audio recording; and in the case of Shakespeare, listening to a recording is almost just as good since settings and actions are usually vocalized anyway.
I braved such an adaption of Macbeth because I had never seen it and I wanted to watch it online. The 1983 version part of a "Tragedies of Shakespeare" series is okay in the sense that it gave me a good idea of the story (with the aid of sparknotes) and I got to hear all the oft repeated lines that are used so often for other things ("sound and fury"--cochlear implants? "Double, double, toil and trouble"--isn't that an Olsen twins movie? "the weird sisters"--magical Billy Idolesque rock?). Anyway, the Scottish play is pretty creepy, in a power-hungry-ill-gotten-gains-mystical sort of way, and I'm sure if I'd watched a more cinematic version I would have enjoyed it more.
But I loved the ShakespeaRe-told version because it visualized a lot of what Shakespeare revealed with long speeches. In other words, it was a more accessible version for film. And instead of the position as king being the incentive for murder, it's the chance to be the top chef at a 3 star restaurant. James MacAvoy plays Joe Macbeth, a chef whose hard work is overshadowed by his employer Duncan Docherty (who he only refers to as the Scottish Chef, haha). One night, Joe and his fellow chefriend Billy Banquo (Joseph Millson) encounter a trio of garbage men who predict Joe's success as head of the restaurant, but also Billy's son's eventual inheritance of it all.
After Joe recalls the experience to his wife Ella (Keeley Hawes), she ends up convincing Joe that the only way that he'll gain his success is by murdering Duncan (obvs) by using his practiced killing skills as a chef with a knife. Things spiral out of control from there.
But what really pulled things off (besides the presence of James MacAvoy and Richard Armitage(!) as Macduff) was the creepy visuals. Joe starts seeing blood everywhere, most disturbingly the water of his wife's shower. And his wife's guilt is shown in how she repeatedly washes her hands and the steadiness (or lack thereof) of her hand as she applies make-up. Somehow this all worked together. I was impressed by how dark a made for TV movie could be. I also thinks this is a great introduction to the story for anyone unfamiliar, although being able to catch some of the references makes it fun to watch even for those who know the play well.
You can find it on YouTube or Netflix instant play.
The Taming of the Shrew is one of Shakespeare's most ridiculous plays. I read part of it when I was a in a history of performance class as part of this heinous dramaturgy project that later got aborted. I never finished it, mostly out of the laziness of my heart, but also because I find reading Shakespeare plays really boring. Seeing a good production, however, is fun.
But The Taming of the Shrew is probably best seen live. I've never had that pleasure, but the play just cries for an audience to goad on the cruelty of both Katherina and Petruchio.
Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton spar in the 1967 film version of The Taming of the Shrew sporting great cleavage and a great beard, respectively.
I'm all for mutual insults. In fact, that's the backbone of many great romantic comedies (see: It Happened One Night, When Harry Met Sally). However, The Shrew takes a much discussed misogynist turn in which Katherina is "tamed" by physical, mental, and emotional torture by Petruchio. I can see that maybe being entertaining if done in a very joking and brash way since Petruchio seems to get genuine amusement out of the whole situation.
Physical domination: eeeeh.Please also note Elizabeth Taylor's intense eye shadow.
However, in a more faithful adaptation of the play seems to require a sudden and unexplained submission to by Katherina to her somewhat lunatic husband Petruchio. In that way, I wasn't quite sure I found Franco Zeffirelli's 1967 film version that amusing so much as mildly disturbing. I think there needed to be a bit more farce for it to be enjoyable, which the oft cut framing device seems to provide.
Anyway, the moral of the story is that it's a fairly outdated play that has always been a little creepy. However, the updated version part of the BBC's ShakespeaRe-told* in 2005 gives enough motivation behind both Katherine and Petruchio.
I find myself attracted to Rufus Sewell in his BAFTA nominated role as Petruchio. Mostly when he says "I want you to have all my babies." But I'm also impressed by how well he wears those boots on his wedding day.
Katherine (the pocked sized Shirley Henderson) is a politician who's goals to move up the ranks are threatened by her frighteningly temper and shrill yelling. Petruchio (Rufus "I'm actually quite endearing" Sewell) seems to have genuine affection for Katherine (in addition to his gold digging which he's rather upfront about), and his lunatic antics seem to be his crazy way to win her over.
That's about a foot difference in height. I find that endearing.
Plus, the ending speech where a woman's duties to her husband are enumerated are also applied to a man to his wife, thus making things more whimsical and less sexist. Although it's still odd.
I think I may be in love with this adaptation. Here's a little taste when our lid finds his pot:
Right? It's just ludicrously cheesy, but made for TV in Britain seems so much classier, right?
End notes: I didn't mention the Bianca and her many suitors storyline, but that's mostly because it's rather dull. Who wants to hear about the popular girl? Not me, unless you make her likable, like in the teen adaptation 10 Things I Hate About You (also, Joseph Gordon-Leavitt being one of the suitors makes that plot more endearing exponentially).
And for the curious both the 1967 and 2005 versions are found on YouTube here and here. Enjoy.
Raging Bull (1980) was nominated for many awards and is highly rated in many "best films ever" lists. It won Oscars for Robert De Niro's performance as the fallen boxing champion Jake La Motta and for best film editing by Thelma Schoonmaker. These are deserved awards. De Niro brings his A-game, ranging from a fit young scrapper to a fat has-been. And the boxing scenes are magical, combining classical music, quick editing, slow motion, and fog to an already legend-implying black-and-white film.
However, I did not care for this film. Never has Martin Scorsese's knack for capturing the male gaze been so apparent. Yes, the character La Motta is sexist, so having the film treat the women as mere objects of desire makes sense. But watching a man order a woman around as to how she can pleasure him is just sickening--if not tedious--to watch, not to mention the more blatant physical abuse. And even when the women in Raging Bull do fight back or divorce, it comes off as mere annoyance rather than a deeply emotional event. Again, this reemphasizes La Motta's perspective, but it sucks and I don't want to see it reemphasized in the film's overall perspective.
And besides my feminist rantings, Behind the Music and E! True Hollywood Story episodes have told the tale of the fallen star enough times that this film doesn't seem as fresh as it may have in 1980. I doesn't help either that I saw Casinobefore this, which has a similar De Niro/Pesci fighting about a blonde woman moments, just with less mafia and actual adultery.
In the end, I wish there was less sexist asshole and more boxing, for I could watch slow motion boxing set to Pietro Mascagni all day.
Opening scene from Raging Bull.
The Elephant Man, another heavily nominated film of 1980, appeals to my taste for the bizarre. The black-and-white filming in this case made the story of 19th century John Merrick, or the Elephant Man, seem more like an urban legend. Though an odd story about a highly deformed man, it's based on a true events (though the script sensationalizes some of the accounts found in The Elephant Man and Other Reminiscences and The Elephant Man: A Study in Human Dignity). It somehow walks a fine line between respecting the life of the Elephant Man and exploiting the fantastic elements in his life. It also managed to keep something that features sideshow freaks from getting campy and something so life-affirming from getting saccharine.
One of the most effective devices in showing John Merrick's journey from freak to full human is how the character is filmed. Certainly, Mr. Merrick's face has monstrous elements. The beginning of the film finds him being gawked at, first as part of a side show and later as part of Dr. Treves' anatomical lecture. David Lynch's decision to hide Merrick's face and body at the beginning borrows suspense-building techniques from horror films, keeping the audience in the same trepidation that the characters around him are. But as Dr. Treves' starts to bring out Merrick's humanness, mostly in the form of oral communication, he is finally shown on the screen as much as the other characters, no longer hidden behind is deformities.
The two main protagonists are played as good men without it coming off as sanctimonious. John Hurt, as John Merrick, manages to bring out genuine goodness and intelligence from behind the heavy makeup required for the role; Anthony Hopkins brings a clinical but kind air to his role as the anatomist Frederick Treves, with a healthy dose of conflicted feelings toward his treatment of Mr. Merrick. These two fit well into a film that in some ways almost feels like a Charles Dickens tale, with no good villains, dirty streets, and upper-class slumming.
But this is a David Lynch production, so it's not completely cheesy so much as vaguely surreal and somehow beautiful.
Opening scene from The Elephant Man.
Post script: Despite my obvious preference between the two films, I can't choose between these two gorgeous scores. Raging Bull makes violence beautiful with its use of Italian opera, while The Elephant Man finds beauty after a journey through strange and haunting circus themes. But they are both absolutely lovely soundtracks.
"Intermezzo" from Raging Bull composed by Pietro Mascagni (again, because I can't resist):
The romance of Italian opera.
"The Elephant Man Theme" from The Elephant Man composed by John Morris:
I finally got around to Zach Braff's Garden State (2004) and Martin Scorsese's Mean Streets (1973), and I got pretty bored with both films. This probably has less to do with the quality of the movies (they're not terrible as much as merely adequate) and more to do with their influence on films since they came out.
I tried to watch Garden State once before, but about a half hour in I was bored enough to just go to bed. This second time, I was wide awake, but still had to force myself to plow through the first chunk of the film where the protagonist is still unemotional and no one likable has even come into the film. As it gets going, however, more personality comes across as Braff and Peter Sarsgaard lose the loathesome behavior and really breathe life into an otherwise bipolarly boring/overly poignant script. And as much as I like Natalie Portman, she once again proves why I have no idea why I like her so much. She does better with smaller films since she's not a very big actress (neither physically or acting-wise), but she's still not that spectacular. I couldn't help but compare her crazy character to Kate Winslet's in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) and see her coming extremely short in creating an interesting and attractive character out of weird behavior. I still like you, though, Natalie.
And like most folks my age, I have a copy of the Garden State soundtrack. It features of mix of new indie bands and mellow older songs that are the hallmark of quirky independent film lately (extra reading from the Culture Warrior). Unfortunately, the moments when this music shows up for 30 seconds are some of the best parts of the film if only to break up the silent, static shots of Zach Braff staring into the camera blankly. Sorry, but the brief soundtrack probably shouldn't be the best parts.
I think why I'm had so much trouble liking this movie is because it seems like it's everyone's favorite film ever. But like its hipster cousin Once (2006), I was merely whelmed* instead of inspired. I liked it okay, but the overly excited hype made me feel bad about not liking it more.
At the end of Roger Eberts retrospective on Mean Streets, he states, "In countless ways, right down to the detail of modern TV crime shows, Mean Streets is one of the source points of modern movies." I certainly saw that. But besides being an early example of the small scale crime drama, it gets a little boring. Perhaps because it was so pioneering, it feels cliche. But I think it's also evident that this is one of Scorsese's earlier films, since this feels a little like a less sleek and less fun Goodfellas, although with a healthy dose of remorse. (Oddly enough, one of my biggest complaints with Goodfellas was the lack of remorse.)
There are some good performances, with De Niro playing a dumb member of the mob who gets into money trouble. And the frequent fights set to upbeat pop or traditional sounding Italian music were the most entertaining parts for me (Scorsese classic contrast!). The fights looked sloppy like real fights actually look which brought more realism to the film than anything else. Although the ending violent shootout had some humorously bright colored blood spraying out of bodily orifices which made me laugh hysterically. Perhaps this wasn't the intended response. In fact, I don't think I really responded as strongly to any other part of the film as I did with this scene. I should probably seek out more spectacularly gory horror movies.
Anyway, the downfall of both films was that they both spent a lot of time on unlikable characters doing tedious things, which compels me find something else to do while watching the movies rather than give my full attention. However, both films had some intriguing, if inconsistent, performances and soundtracks that are awesome and carried me through the film when nothing else did.
All in all, I don't think I'll ever seek these movies out again. They just don't appeal to me. But don't worry. I feel bad about it.
P.S. Movie highlights:Garden State features Jim Parsons in a knight costume. Mean Streets features the same opening credits song as Dirty Dancing. Again, I think I was missing the point of both films. Oh well.
I know I've mentioned this a few times on this blog, but I love Two for the Road (1967). It's a decade-long story of a couple told in vacation flashbacks. It splits time between several flashbacks, showing us the happy beginning, the middling middle, and the awful present. We know that the marriage is having trouble from the start of the film, and every look back in the relationship tells us why.
(500) Days of Summer does much the same thing. We know from the start that the couple in question isn't going to end up together. The film goes mostly chronologically with two starting points: the giddy beginning of the relationship and the post-break-up losses. The two storylines are intercut together to create the sort of perspective that only a bigger picture can give.
While Two For the Road, I feel, gives us a better look from the romantically-minded female perspective on the relationship, (500) Days of Summer gives us the romantically-minded male perspective. Joanna and Tom both fall in love quickly and fully invest themselves into their respective relationships. Maybe they should get together so neither of them will be let down by their less invested counterparts.
Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Joanna (Audrey Hepburn) enjoying their road trip together as their car starts to catch fire.
Incredibly, the two films end on hopeful notes. Two for the Road ends with Joanna (Audrey Hepburn) and Mark (Albert Finney) accepting that they're a permanent fixture and complement each other well (exchanging the magical "Bitch" and "Bastard"of affection). (500) Days of Summer shows us Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) finding peace with Summer (Zooey Deschanel) marrying another guy and starting over again (giving us a fun 4th wall-breaking look to the camera).
With humor and retrospective wisdom, these two films give a larger picture of what a relationship is like--not just an anticiption of one--and even tell us it's worth it. Now if only real life would allow me to dance to Hall and Oates in the middle of the park.
Bringing Up Baby is kind of hit and miss for me. One the one hand, Cary Grant gets to play a daft paleontologist with glasses and Kathrine Hepburn gets some fabulous one liners ("If you had an aunt who would give you a million dollars if she liked you and you knew she wouldn't like you if she found a leopard in your apartment, what would you do?") Also, Cary Grant, wearing a feminine/feathery robe yells, "Because I just went GAY all of a sudden!" deemed more hilarious by that fact that I have no idea what the connotations of "gay" were in the 1930s. Basically, Hepburn and Grant are always a delight, even in the worst of movies, so watching them is a pleasure.
Cary Grant in a frilly robe.
But Bringing Up Baby also ends up being fairly tedious. For all the funny moments, there's an equal amount of time spent running around doing nothing funny which in turn neutralizes the parts that were funny. This probably has to do with my severe dislike of comedy about stupid people. There's a reason I hated Amelia Bedelia books growing up, and that's because she was dumber than dirt and never understood instructions. To me, that's not funny, that's incompetent and tedious. (I was snobby even as an 8-year-old.) The same holds for any The Office storylines that focus too much on David Brent/Michael Scott--they're only funny when smarter people are making fun of them. In the case of Bringing Up Baby, both Susan and David are idiots, although in different ways, and for me that gets old because no one onscreen is mocking them.
Cary Grant in nerdy glasses. Adorable.
My Man Godfrey, though, I find hilarious. Certainly the film has a heavy Depression-era "do good to the less fortunate" streak that grounds the humor, but the reason I love the movie so much mostly has to do with William Powell's Godfrey. He's a smart man who has come to understand himself as an upperclass man through heartbreak and life on the streets (er, river bank). But it's his reactions to the insane Bullock family that make this film so great. He's underminingly polite, managing to make fun of the family with a straight face as their butler. (The question, "Can you butle?" never fails to make me laugh.)
William Powell being kind and condescending at the same time. Hot.
I even go along with the absolutely crazy scenes, like when Mrs. Bullock's musician protege Carlo starts acting like a monkey while Irene (Carole Lombard) has a huge nervous breakdown because Godfrey doesn't love her and there's chaos and yelling. I enjoy having an ally in watching ridiculous things happen, and Godfrey is that man in this movie. His calm looks of wonder/disdain are unbeatable. In other words, he's the Tim/Jim of the situation, and thusly my favorite character.
Classic Godfrey expression as Irene literally throws herself at him. By throwing her in the shower, Godfrey loves her of course.
But despite his intelligence, Godfrey manages to fall into an odd sort of relationship with Irene. Irene gives him the job as butler at her house after she uses him as a "forgotten man" in a scavenger hunt. She subsequently falls in love with him, even though he clearly shows no interest in her besides gratitude for the job. But they have an easy, sweet sort of chemistry despite not feeling an equal affection for each other. Their movie relationship makes sense seeing as how Powell and Lombard were married and divorced a few years before this movie was made. They remained good friends, and their comfortable real-life chemistry bleeds through onscreen. Anyway, the way Irene throws herself at Godfrey, and he calmly refuses, but doesn't completely push her away. Their proximity, their banter, their difference in wit. For whatever reason, it warms my heart.
To sum up: Bring Up Baby doesn't bring enough laughs or heart for me to care. My Man Godfrey is basically perfect.
I own Sliding Doors (1998) mostly because it was in a $5 dollar bin. It's one of the better films you can get in one of those bins because, while it's no cinematic masterpiece, it's quite enjoyable. It's the perfect movie to put on when you're cleaning or packing or doing laundry. You don't have to pay very much attention except to the parts that are delightful.
Still in her non-British British actress stage, Gwyneth Paltrow plays Helen, a PR expert who gets fired from her job. On her way home after her unpleasant sacking, she misses the train home.But wait! This is a romantic comedy so we also see her barely catch the train (which is helpfully accompanied by magical chimes). From here we see the two paths her life could take: one where she gets home early to find her boyfriend Gerry having sex with another woman, the other where she has to find another, longer way home and misses catching her boyfriend cheating. This moment is also where I tend to either tune out/fast forward through one half of the film. Believe me when I say that the storyline that involves Helen being oblivious to her idiotic boyfriend's antics is 3/4 unbearable. I can't think of a more loathsome character than Gerry; he can't decide which woman he wants and then feels bad about it. We have to hear him talk to himself in the mirror, to his unsympathetic friend, and his lover about it. Kill me now.
The film is really saved by the other half of the film where Helen meets the kind and persistent James (John Hannah). It's a sweet relationship that you get to see build through drinking milkshakes and sculling competitions. And we are even treated to two delightful montages in this story, one of them being a makeover montage where Helen gets a sassy haircut and blonde hair (which is quite helpful thing when they keep switching between Helens).
Sliding Doors is a good fluff film that's at least half decent. And fairly short (99 minutes), so perfect for deep cleaning the refrigerator.
I happened upon Martha, Meet Frank, Daniel and Laurence* (1998) while perusing Netflix. I ended up watching this because of my love of Joseph Fiennes and Rufus Sewell. But mostly of Joseph Fiennes. Ahem. Anyway, it's a breezy (88 minutes) romcom that involves three childhood friends and the girl who they all fall for.
Martha (Monica Potter) is an American who decides to up and move to England. On plane there, she meets a music producer or something Daniel (Tom Hollander) who is instantly smitten by her, and he tries to woo her through bumping her to first class (through ridiculous means I might add). Daniel tells his friends Frank (Rufus Sewell) and Laurence (Joseph Fiennes) about the girl, and Frank, the drunken, unemployed actor blaggard that he is, discovers her in a park and decides to try to get with her himself she's so lovely. Little do either of them know, Laurence encountered her in the airport and was bullied into giving her a ride into London. This time Martha is the one that's smitten, although Laurence likes her soon enough. The conflict? Martha doesn't know they're all friends! And Daniel and Frank are ignorant of Laurence's involvement since they're both self-centered bastards!
But wait! It's a romantic comedy, so Laurence is obviously telling his psychiatrist neighbor about this whole mess early in the morning!
Whatever. It's an amusing enough movie. Honestly, this is the first time I've probably ever seen Rufus Sewell not play a scorned lover/nobleman. He's quite funny actually. And of course we get to see Joseph Fiennes with his love-stricken look that he does so well. Yes, I'm swooning. So really, it's a movie to watch for the people in it, not necessarily for it's ground breaking cinematic quality.
And as with both of these movies, they at least avoid the most painful romcom tropes (to me): the woman pining after some jerk of a man (Rufus Sewell in The Holiday) and the drunken escape paving the way to love (every other romantic comedy). So good things all around. Plus, it's already been a decade since they've been released, so you can laugh at some of the styles and musical choices while reveling in the fantastic UK accents.
1998 Joseph Fiennes. Wonderful. Oh, and Monica Potter is pretty charming too.
*or, as it was released in the US, The Very Thought of You. What's up with the name change? Does every romantic comedy really need to be named after a song? I'm looking at you Simply Irresistable, Someone Like You, It Could Happen to You, et al. Or was that just the 90s?
Probably because I watched these fairly close together, there seem to be striking similarities between The Professional (1994) and The City of Lost Children (1995).
In The Professional, Leon (Jean Reno) is a hitman who saves Mathilda (Natalie Portman) from the men that killed her family. Mathilda then convinces Leon to help her avenge her brother's death. She asks to be "cleaner" just like Leon. Leon reluctantly agrees to train her.
In The City of Lost Children, One (Ron Perlman) is a performing strong man who loses his little brother Denree to a man who steals children and their dreams. One recruits the help of the crafty Miette (Judith Vittet) to help save Denree.
These films are both pretty grim children's stories. Let's face it, the best children's stories involve orphans where grown-ups don't really have a place in these movies, except as the enemy. These two films have that down.
The Professional just so happens to bring along a ton of violence, lots of guns, and the DEA, with a dash of budding sexuality. For content so adult, the film feels awfully naive--it's pretty much a straight forward kid's movie: a kid's family just doesn't understand, and when something comes into their life and/or something goes wrong, they latch onto fellow kids to save the day. In this case, Mathilda latches on to fellow kid Leon, who just so happens to kill people for a living. He avenges her brother's death--problem solved.
While it's easier to see the little kid in Ron Perlman's performance, with his short sweater and goofy haircut, Jean Reno also brings a kid-like perspective to his performance with his constant milk drinking and attachment to his plant. Oddly enough, these two actors perform in films where they're the only ones who aren't native speakers of the film's language. It adds to their awkwardness and innocence. And both Perlman and Reno are both quite large, and in the presence of lovely young actresses, they seem clumsy--except, of course, when they're kicking some ass. It's also a pleasure to watch these older actors give the younger actresses control in many of the scenes, completing the illusion that these are strictly child-filled duos.
Although, I find The City of Lost Children to be in some ways much grimmer than The Professional. It's a bizarre world full of bugs who poison, music that causes violence, machines that steal dreams, and a brain with a case of ennui. It even has some freak show like qualities in the siamese twins (kind of the Fagin/Bill Sikes of the tale), the four henchmen clones (all played by the fantastic Dominique Pinon), and One the strongman (La Strada flashbacks galore). None of the evil is straight forward violence, but complicated and twisted, caused by loneliness and genius. I find that much more disturbing than a corrupt government agency.
I'm just saying that this: is way creepier than this:
Although I wouldn't watch either one of these right before bed. I don't think any one would want to steal my dreams the night I watched either of these two films.
I don't think I love anything more than a well done period piece, especially in miniseries form. There's rarely a more satisfying love story than those told in 19th Century costume and British accents. This Saturday I watched two, taking short breaks to stretch my legs and catch some sun. In other words, a perfect way to spend my day off.
1. The first one I watched was North & South (2004). I've heard fantastic things about this series for a while, so I had high expectations. They were met. My roommate described it as Pride and Prejudice on steroids. But to be fair, it's quite different than Pride and Prejudice, lacking in the amusing criticism of society and instead going for a harsh criticism of society set in the context of the Industrial Revolution with discussion of worker conditions, capitalism, poverty, and unions. Although I would say it's just as satisfying a watch as Pride and Prejudice.
Margaret Hale is a young woman whose father has quit the clergy on basis of doubts about doctrine. Mr. Hale moves his wife a daughter from the idyllic south to a bleak industrial town in the north. Margaret struggles to adjust to her new environment, including different social customs, interacting with the working class, and especially the cotton mill owner John Thornton. Margaret manages to make friends and get entangled in the town's labor movement just by doing what she thinks is right. In terms of Mr. Thornton, many smoldering stares and fiery arguments ensue as they can never see eye to eye. But the relationship is within a larger context of the town's strife and complex motivations, with Thornton being more pragmatically minded and Margaret more socially minded. In other words, their disagreements are based on more than just societal slights, but principles.
[above: brood brood smolder smolder]
But a lot of what makes this miniseries so good is the actual filming. The lighting is beautiful, coming mostly from windows and candles. The southern settings are always bright and rich with saturated colors, while the north is rather bleak with muted and faded colors. There's also a lovely use of focus, creating interesting shots--especially as Mr. Thornton broodingly stares at his workers amidst the flying cotton balls of his mill.
At four episodes, about an hour each, it's a well-paced watch that never feels dragged out. Certainly some things were probably rushed for the sake of adaptation, but it works well and key characters are established and developed. The lovely theme written by Martin Phipps adds to the sorrowful and passionate feel of the film. And I've kind of avoided swooning, but I'll let you know the melancholy Mr. Thornton is perfectly swoon worthy, especially when he grows scruff when he's especially bedraggled. This is just to say, it satisfies my need for period romance.
Listen to the music swell as Thornton walks in his mill and Margaret writes her friend Edith:
2. The second miniseries I watched was Daniel Deronda (2002). This has been a favorite of mine since it aired on Masterpiece Theatre when I was in high school. It's based on a novel by George Eliot, meaning it's somewhat mystical with a healthy dose of cheese. Andrew Davies works his magic as a master adapter of text to screen. I have it on good authority that the book is a pretty ridiculous and a bit long, and I believe it having read Eliot's overly cheesy and somehow overly long Silas Marner in high school which is pretty short. I'm sure DD is filled with sentimental muckraking, which also bleeds through this recent adaptation.
More than anything, Daniel Deronda is a character study of several young people in 1870s England. The main character Daniel Deronda is a young man searching for purpose. He doesn't know his origins, but has a caring adoptive father in Sir Hugo who is rumored to have fathered Daniel illegitimately. Daniel is kind and described as "not like other young men." Gwendolyn Harleth is a selfish young woman who is a master at manipulating others to give her what she wants and manages to string along young men for game. She's very much like Scarlett O'Hara. She captures the attention of Daniel, but also a Mr. Grandcourt who is deliciously malicious and likes to play games with people. Grandcourt manages to win over Gwendolyn despite his several odious characteristics/actions because of her need for money. And of course there is Mirah Lapidoth, a Jewish woman in dire straits who is saved by Daniel. And then there's the family that takes in Mirah that includes Daniel's artist friend Hans. And then there are several people of the society, such as the great musician Herr Klesmer who is known as much for his expertise as his heritage as a Jew.
[above: Gwendolyn, played by Romola Garai, aiming at her target. I'd like to see more of this actress.]
I'm doing a terrible job of summarizing the action; suffice it to say that the characters' lives weave in and out of each others' within several story lines during this three and a half hour series. It's all about society and how people fit into it. Some of the issues discussed are antisemitism (obvs), power struggles between the sexes, the Zionist movement, and love. Somehow Daniel Deronda never feels overwhelmed with characters or plots since it's spread over a longer time frame. Much of the series is very tense in a keeping-up-appearnces sort of way, especially between Daniel and Gwendolyn or Gwendolyin and Mr. Grandcourt. Butt he film manages to find its center in Daniel and his decision regarding what he's going to do with his life, finding out his heritage, and who he will love.
The style of the film is a lot like North & South, featuring lovely natural lighting, interesting use of focus, and the frequent use of close-ups. The soundtrack for Daniel Deronda is even more distinguished than North & South since it features several motifs, from the mysterious vocals whenever a scene is featured in the Jewish district of London to the haunting theme following Mirah to the doomed melody following Gwendolyn.
And of course I swoon over Daniel who is played by Hugh Dancy. He plays Daniel as a ponderous young man that thinks little of himself. I'm always excited to see Dancy in other performances; unfortunately, he's placed in fairly bland roles much of the time. Perhaps embarrassingly, my second favorite role for him was in The Jane Austen Book Club as a tech support guy who gets weaseled into the club (which is actually kind of good for a chick lit film, but certainly not a masterpiece. Here's a clip). Anyway, there is rowing and singing and all together adorableness coming from this role. Love.
[above: attractive man rowing and smiling.]
Overall,Daniel Deronda somehow seems more bleak after watching North & South since the relationships between people are seen more intimately and thus more complexly; it never ignores the realities of marrying for money or loving someone who loves someone else. But it's also rather hopeful, with the ever optimistic Daniel at the center.
And did I mention the costuming? Gorgeous. Enjoy this clip:
Gwendolyn at her privileged best, being admired by many men despite her musical mediocrity.
I had no idea that Meryl Streep and Robert De Niro starred in a fairly light-hearted romance Falling in Love (1984), but they did.
Points to make:
1. The soundtrack of this movie utilizes Dave Grusin's kind of jazzy hit "Mountain Dance."
I feel like I heard this song a lot as a child. I wonder if my dad had this somewhere or played it on the piano or something. Anyway, it's suprisingly timeless in feel, but definitively 80s. It also makes this film definitively full of Hollywood happy romance.
2. This is based on the British film Brief Encounter (1945). And while Falling in Love follows the same almost adulterous affair between two adults on a train plot, it's far less proper and less repressed than Brief Encounter. What I love about the latter is that it is so suppressed. It's told from the perspective of a woman in flashbacks. We witness a scene where she's saying goodbye to a man and then drives off with her husband. She reflects on her relationship with that man until we see the first scene again and really see why she was so irritated and anxious the whole time. I cannot recommend it enough.
Spoilers ahead: Anyway, Falling in Love eventually has the two leads reveal to their respective spouses their severe attachment to someone outside their marriages. So, instead of bravely continuing on in their (what looks to be very good) relationships, they give up on them. It's just seemed like a cop out to me so their could be a "happy" Hollywood ending, but I just felt bad for the left spouses. They seemed pretty cool to me, so the film lost me in the end.
3. I kind of like De Niro in a romantic role. He's not especially charming, but he acts like a decent man and is pretty low key. And Streep is, as always, just lovely and fun. She brings a lot of emotion to a very minimally scripted role. There's a moment when she's getting dressed to see De Niro and she keeps trying on different outfits. Suddenly, she stares at herself in the mirror and asks herself, "What are you doing?" It's a seriousness about consequences that gets lost by the end of the film. But overall, the chemistry between the two leads is sweet and comfortable. They are awkward for most of the film, but it seems to come from respect for their other attachments. It's nice to see the pair of them be so natural.
4. Have you listened to it yet?
It'll be stuck in your head the rest of the day.
5. Anyway, you can find Falling in Loveonline, but I'd recommend seeing Brief Encounter first.
I've recently been going through my own DVD collection lately, most of which was acquired my freshman year at college (so, like 3 years ago). Anyway, I ended up watching Love Story and The Fountain back-to-back. It's a weirdly perfect combination of romances that end with the death of the woman: one reflecting on a passionate relationship of a few years and one about finding out how to deal with impending death.
________
Love Story (1970)is a chick flick that I would actually tell somebody to watch. There's so much cute and sass that it keeps from becoming senseless drivel but instead just enjoyably sappy.
It begins with a man sitting on bench with the narration "What can you say about a 25-year-old girl who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant? That she loved Mozart and Bach? The Beatles? And me?" This is Harvard jock Oliver Barrett* (Ryan O'Neal) who we quickly see in a flashback meeting the saucy Radcliffe music major Jennifer Cavalleri (Ali MacGraw), the one who we know will die. Their attraction is immediate and fiery. She calls him Preppy. He calls her a Radcliffe Bitch. It's just great.
Their courtship is a series of quick scenes. We see them go on dates. Jennifer sees Oliver play hockey. Oliver sees Jennifer play the harpsichord. Tommy Lee Jones makes an appearance. There's even a ridiculously cute scene where the dream couple is playing football in the snow (Jennifer, of course, is wearing a large sweatshirt, adding to her adorableness). Throughout there's a lot of sarcastic swearing at each other until one of them is sincere about their feelings. Again, it's just great.
The rest of the film involves them getting married, meeting Jennifer's sweet Catholic dad, dealing with the freeze-out between Oliver and his father, poverty from sending Oliver to law school, and "love means never having to say you're sorry." And then they want to have children, but they can't get pregnant. It turns out Jennifer is ill and--besides the bizarro choice to not tell her about if for awhile--the illness and death is fairly quick and kind of sweet, with Jennifer refusing the A Walk to Remember treatment**.
Francis Lai's overdramatic score almost pushes the whole thing into terrible shmaltz, but Ali MacGraw makes up for it everytime she delivers a "don't bullshit me" line, and you just accept the film for what it is: a tragic, sincere, youthful romance.
________
The Fountain (2006), however, is not as fun to watch. It's vulnerable in its study of how people deal with death. Plus, it's hard film to watch with complex combination of three storylines involving the same couple.
The anchor for the film takes place in modern day. It shows how Tommy (Hugh Jackman) is dealing with his wife Izzi's (Rachel Weisz) cancer. He's a research scientist doing cancer treatment trials on primates and trying to defeat death. Needless to say, he's not handling things well.
Another storyline is the first one we see, and it takes place in the 16th Century. Spanish conquistadors are facing hostile Mayans. Tomas (Jackman) is brought to the leader and we see him get stabbed. This is the penultimate chapter in a book being written by Izzi, which she will later ask Tommy to finish. Throughout the film we get to see the book from the beginning which includes Queen Isabel of Spain (Weisz) under the threat being overthrown by the inquisition. She sends Tomas to the Americas to find the tree of life that will provide immortality and save Spain.
The third storyline takes place in the future. Tommy is in space, contained in a bubble with a tree; he treats this tree like Izzi. His only company is his memories of Izzi and occasionally of the Queen. He's heading for a star, Xhibalba, where he hopes to find immortality.
The storylines intertwine in such a way that an interpretation is clearly evident, but it's pretty clear the Darren Arronofsky wanted to present the idea that seeking immortality is a bad idea. Many of the same shots, actions, and ideas are present in all three plots clearly showing the parrallels between them. The tree in the future might even be the same tree that Tommy used to make an experimental drug.
It's gorgeously shot with a lovely score by Clint Mansell. The most moving part of the film, however, is Hugh Jackman. Rewatching The Fountain made me wish he took more serious roles because he can carry a film--even a very clinical and symbolic film like this one--and make it relatable. Weisz is lovely as well, giving playful sagacity to modern-day Izzi, but it's Jackman that makes this film for me.
________
The one thing I found strangely similar in both films is when Oliver and Tommy find out their wives are irrevocably going to die. In Love Story, Oliver walks along the streets to the sound of eerie bell vibrations, drowning out other noises. The Fountain shows Tommy walking down the street with only the sound of footsteps until he's almost hit by a car causing ambient noise to come screaming back. Finding that parallel made the fact very clear that this was a weird double feature, but very satisfying.
*Also my guitar's name. **No temporary tatoos were had and no stars were bought.
