Away We Went

I’ve actually revealed this neurosis of mine before, but I need to hash it out some more.  When I see a movie I really, really like, I usually need to stay for most, if not all, of the credits.  I’m not like my aunt Terry who has to stay for all of the credits of every movie.  Certainly not!  In fact, I really can’t imagine stomaching staying through all of the credits of a movie like, say, The Reader.  Pukeasaurus Rex.  But when I think a movie’s really good, there are several reasons why I want to stay: (1) I want to give every name involved a little of my time in a small effort to show my respect and admiration and gratitude; (2) I often want to check who played whom and who did the music; and (3), and this is usually the biggest reason, I need time to collect myself before moving on with my life.  And this third one is the one that gets me in real trouble.  I LOVE seeing movies in the theater.  I love the grandeur, the shared experience, the sound, everything.  I just love, love, love, love, love it.  But there is little that I hate more in this world than the end-of-a-great-movie experience in which I am sitting paralyzed with emotion, trying to absorb what I have just seen and been through and listening to the final song of the film (sometimes the most important song, like in Gran Torino & The Wrestler) when people all around me just start talking and — the worst — laughing and moving on with their lives at a rate I can’t contemplate.  It makes me so annoyed and angry and then I’m left not being able to soak in the whole experience and irked with myself for letting it get to me.  The thing is, I know I’ve probably pissed someone else off in the same way folks have done for me.  I think it’s probably a safe (though disturbing) bet that someone was moved by The Reader and I couldn’t get out of the theater fast enough and I’m sure I let out an inappropriate chuckle.  Ugh.  So, I know there’s no real solution to this problem.  If I want the movie theater experience, I just need to understand that this is going to happen.  Again and again.  As it did tonight.

Tonight we saw a truly lovely, moving portrait of a 30-something couple trying to navigate through life and figure out where they belong.  In Away We Go, Burt & Verona are a couple who are very much in love and about to have a baby.  They don’t, however, know quite where they should live.  They want to live in a city with family or friends or both.  They want to feel rooted.  So, they travel North America — Phoenix, Tucson, Madison (!!! though it’s not really Madison, but it is very pretty), Montreal & Miami — in an effort to find out what city fits them.  Along the way, we are introduced to a bunch of characters from their past: In Phoenix is Verona’s ex-boss; in Madison is Burt’s childhood family friend; in Montreal, the couple’s college friends.  Some of the people they visit are totally bonkers (Maggie Gyllenhall plays so insane and is part of one of the best scenes in the movie: John Krasinski + stroller = madcap comedy.  Who knew?), and some are incredibly sympathetic and stirring.  But it’s Burt and Verona that make the film.  Their effort to make it as a couple, as a family, in a tough, unfair world moved me to tears.  It is one of those precious, rare films that makes us remember that just being here, just loving someone is really beautiful.  And it’s enough.

Wednesday

Interview with Justice Ginsburg!  Sent to me courtesy of my dear old friend Brady.  Not that he’s actually old, mind you, but I have known him since I was 6.

Tonight?  Away We Go, which I keep wanting to call Up and Away.

Sconnie

Isn’t this awesome? I’d like to add a few more ideas to the list — strolling down State, lunch at Chataura, an actual beer on the terrace — but it’s still pretty great, in my opinion. An added plus is the Anthology shop they mentioned, which is co-owned by a gal I played tennis with in high school.

Speaking of Wisconsin, which we now are, the state’s been going rather bonkers for a long time now over the movie Public Enemies. I don’t know how the rest of the country is reacting to its premiere (though I suspect Michael Mann + Johnny Depp + John Dillinger = lots of excitement and hype), but Sconnie just about collapsed from the weight of it all. As you may know, lots of scenes were filmed here — Madison, Columbus, Oshkosh and more. Most significantly, perhaps, was the infamous shoot-out at the Little Bohemia lodge in Manitowish Waters, Wisconsin, which still stands and which we often comment upon when we are up on our annual family vacation in near-by Presque Isle. Anyway, lots of towns had early premieres and people came out in 1930s wear and drove around old cars and smoked cigars. It was really quite a reaction.

So, with all of this in mind, I saw the movie last night. At Sundance. Gosh, I just love that theater. Even though the restaurant blew and reminds me of a low period in my adult life, the movie theater is just the bees’ knees and makes me not want to go to any other movie theater ever again (well, that doesn’t include the drive-in or the Orpheum, both of which I adore). Anyway, as soon as the movie started, it occurred to me what I was really going to see. A Michael Mann movie about John Dillinger. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me early. Maybe because I didn’t really know much about Dillinger (this despite there being an old family story that my great-grandfather was kidnapped by Dillinger’s gang to repair some plumbing or electrical problem at one of their hide-outs). So, it hit me late that this was going to be (a) long and (b) violent. Michael Mann is not even close to one of my favorite directors and I absolutely hated his uber-long, unedited, ultra-violent, super boring Heat. But it was too late to turn back. The movie starts with a pretty violent jailbreak, which sets the tone. There’s a lot of blood in this movie and a lot of killing. Johnny Depp is pretty great, though, and Marion Cotillard is simply gorgeous and commanding. Christian Bale, though…Ugh. I don’t know why I feel bad criticizing him, but I do. Enough’s enough, though. I let his Batman performance slide and I can’t do it again. I feel like he’s really pushing when he “acts.” I don’t believe him at all. I don’t know if he’s trying too hard to cover up his Welsh accent or what. Personally, though, I’d rather have a Welsh accent slip in in an otherwise smooth and believable performance than watch someone speak so woodenly so that we don’t know where he’s actually from. It’s really enough already. At least for me. And it probably didn’t help that his role, a would-be federal agent though the FBI has yet to come into its own, is really boring. I was hoping for more of a movie like, say, American Gangster. In American Gangster, you are just as interested in Russell Crowe’s police work as you are with Denzel Washington’s criminal work. In Public Enemies, though, there is very little police work and it’s just not that interesting.

Overall, though, I liked the movie and it didn’t feel as long as I thought it might. I would give it a B. For whatever that’s worth. Maybe a B+ since seeing the Capitol was pretty cool.

Pups

This is just sad.  Warning: I read the first two comments and could feel my blood pressure rising.

Absence

I haven’t posted in so long for a couple of reasons: (1) I’ve been uberbusy with work and budget madness and (2) I’m completely boring and have almost nothing to say.

Despite both of those things, I’m here now.  And here are a few things that are on my mind: (1) Sarayu’s episode of HawthoRNe airs tonight on TNT (we can discuss her acting chops tomorrow); (2) the first of two “reunion” Real Housewives of New Jersey is on at the same time; (3) I’ve really warmed to the RHONJ in that while they are completely totally bonkers, the drama is really outstanding and, of all the RHs, they seem to be the most true to being housewives; (4) animal rights people can be pretty weird and (5) what the hell is the latest with Favre?

I’ll take my answers off the air.

Inspired

This is lovely Heather and her beautiful, brand-new Luisita.  Luisita was born May 30, 2009 circa 10 pm.  Welcome, love!  She’s a tiny little thing with the cutest tongue and yawn.