I’ve always had a soft spot for Arthur, the noble king of British
legend, and I have nothing but affection for animated Erie icon Arthur
the aardvark. I’ll also readily admit to an excessive fondness for
golden-voiced Arthur Garfunkel and endearing Muggle-loving wizard Arthur
Weasley in the Harry Potter series. One Arthur that has always eluded
me, however, is the titular character in the 1981 romantic comedy
written and directed by Steve Gordon. While he’s easily the most
obnoxious of the five, I’m still happy to add him to my list of Arthur
acquaintances.
Dudley Moore plays Arthur Bach, a swingin’ rich
kid who never grew up. He’s well into adulthood now, but he still
surrounds himself with toys and devotes his life to lavish pleasures,
including a steady intake of alcohol that leaves him perpetually soused.
When his father expresses his disapproval with his lifestyle and
threatens to cut him off if he doesn’t enter into the marriage long
arranged for him with socialite Susan (Jill Eikenberry), Arthur
reluctantly agrees to his terms. Then he meets Linda (Liza Minnelli),
and life gets a little more complicated…
The movie takes place
over a short period of time as Arthur prepares for the wedding he
doesn’t want while wooing sweet but street-smart Linda, who works as a
waitress to support herself and her beloved father, who dreams of a
better life for them both. When a multi-millionaire begins to take an
interest in his daughter, his enthusiasm at the prospect is quite
entertaining.
Arthur’s own father isn’t in the picture much;
instead, Arthur spends his time with Hobson (John Gielgud), the elderly
butler who has been both father figure and best friend to him throughout
his life. Gielgud’s performance is my favorite of the film as he
skewers Arthur, Linda and others with his withering Simon Cowell-esque
wit but occasionally betrays flickers of his deep regard for this man
who needs his mentorship so desperately. Arthur’s feisty aunt Martha
(Geraldine Fitzgerald) also cares for him in her own peculiar way, and
her shocking remarks are among the movie’s funniest, and his cheery
chauffeur Bitterman (Ted Ross) brings a smile to the face while he’s on
screen.
This is a charming coming-of-age film if you can get
past Arthur’s perpetual drunkenness. It examines whether wealth or
freedom is a more valuable commodity and shows the dangers of having too
many resources and not enough ambition. Mostly, though, it’s just a
movie with an entertaining lead and a story of mentorship that is just
as heartwarming as the romance.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
An Unconventional Family Grows Closer in Mermaids
When I first heard of the movie Mermaids, I suspected it was something along the lines of Splash,
the Tom Hanks comedy about a man who unwittingly falls in love with a
mermaid. However, actual mermaids have little to do with this drama that
stars Cher, a teenage Winona Ryder and a nine-year-old Christina Ricci
as a free-spirited Jewish single mom and her two daughters.
Cher is Rachel Flax, who eccentricity, promiscuity and fear of commitment have led her to pick up and move every few months. This has led to a very unsettled life for Charlotte, whose teenage rebellion manifests itself in her yearning for normalcy and her obsession with Catholicism, and Kate, a sweet-natured child who is fairly content to go with the flow. The mermaid part comes in mostly with Kate, as she is an excellent swimmer, and Rachel attends a costume party dressed as a mermaid. Charlotte, meanwhile, has a habit of taking frequent showers to cleanse herself of the sins she believes she has committed.
Charlotte is our central character, the one through whom we see the events of the movie unfold, thanks in part to Ryder’s poetic voiceovers. She is intense as only a teenage girl can be, and while she is very hard on herself whenever she exhibits unsaintly behavior, her true frustration is with her mother, who refuses to accept responsibility for any of her actions and becomes violently angry when anyone tries to call her on it.
The movie begins with them moving to yet another new town, and this time, Charlotte is delighted to find that their house is next to a beautiful old abbey populated with nuns. This quickly becomes her favorite retreat. She is more conflicted about its bell-ringer, a handsome young man named Joe (Michael Schoeffling), since she develops an enormous crush on him but feels deeply guilty about it. The relationship that develops between them is a bit squirmy since she is well below adulthood and he is in his mid-20s, but she is so ardent and he is so sweet that it’s hard to fault them too much, except in one circumstance when their actions endanger someone else.
The 1960s setting gives the film a refreshing flavor, making Charlotte’s naivety feel more in step with the times, while the Kennedy assassination serves as a major catalyst for the characters. The decade also is the reason for Cher’s rendition The Shoop Shoop Song, which plays over the credits and eventually became one of her biggest hits. As the 60s is my favorite period of the 20th century, I was excited to realize that it was set then instead of in 1990.
Ricci is simply adorable in her role and brings sunshine to nearly all of her scenes, while Ryder is moody but still very likable. Equally appealing is Lou, the down-to-earth, almost-divorced man who pursues a relationship with Rachel. His decency and kindness, especially to the girls, is commendable, while his desire for some measure of commitment makes Rachel extremely uncomfortable. While she is a fun character, there’s a self-absorption about her that is a turn-off, particularly since it so adversely affects her daughters on several occasions.
Ultimately, this is a sweet story about an unconventional family trying to make it together. The sweetness of the bonds between these three gals and the man who wants to become a permanent part of their lives makes Mermaids a tender film, while the issues it raises make it an especially good pick for teenage girls to watch with their mothers. It serves as a nice reminder that there is always room for forgiveness and growth in a family, no matter how grievous past mistakes have been.
Cher is Rachel Flax, who eccentricity, promiscuity and fear of commitment have led her to pick up and move every few months. This has led to a very unsettled life for Charlotte, whose teenage rebellion manifests itself in her yearning for normalcy and her obsession with Catholicism, and Kate, a sweet-natured child who is fairly content to go with the flow. The mermaid part comes in mostly with Kate, as she is an excellent swimmer, and Rachel attends a costume party dressed as a mermaid. Charlotte, meanwhile, has a habit of taking frequent showers to cleanse herself of the sins she believes she has committed.
Charlotte is our central character, the one through whom we see the events of the movie unfold, thanks in part to Ryder’s poetic voiceovers. She is intense as only a teenage girl can be, and while she is very hard on herself whenever she exhibits unsaintly behavior, her true frustration is with her mother, who refuses to accept responsibility for any of her actions and becomes violently angry when anyone tries to call her on it.
The movie begins with them moving to yet another new town, and this time, Charlotte is delighted to find that their house is next to a beautiful old abbey populated with nuns. This quickly becomes her favorite retreat. She is more conflicted about its bell-ringer, a handsome young man named Joe (Michael Schoeffling), since she develops an enormous crush on him but feels deeply guilty about it. The relationship that develops between them is a bit squirmy since she is well below adulthood and he is in his mid-20s, but she is so ardent and he is so sweet that it’s hard to fault them too much, except in one circumstance when their actions endanger someone else.
The 1960s setting gives the film a refreshing flavor, making Charlotte’s naivety feel more in step with the times, while the Kennedy assassination serves as a major catalyst for the characters. The decade also is the reason for Cher’s rendition The Shoop Shoop Song, which plays over the credits and eventually became one of her biggest hits. As the 60s is my favorite period of the 20th century, I was excited to realize that it was set then instead of in 1990.
Ricci is simply adorable in her role and brings sunshine to nearly all of her scenes, while Ryder is moody but still very likable. Equally appealing is Lou, the down-to-earth, almost-divorced man who pursues a relationship with Rachel. His decency and kindness, especially to the girls, is commendable, while his desire for some measure of commitment makes Rachel extremely uncomfortable. While she is a fun character, there’s a self-absorption about her that is a turn-off, particularly since it so adversely affects her daughters on several occasions.
Ultimately, this is a sweet story about an unconventional family trying to make it together. The sweetness of the bonds between these three gals and the man who wants to become a permanent part of their lives makes Mermaids a tender film, while the issues it raises make it an especially good pick for teenage girls to watch with their mothers. It serves as a nice reminder that there is always room for forgiveness and growth in a family, no matter how grievous past mistakes have been.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Firm Friends Weather Stormy Times in Steel Magnolias
I’ve been making very good use of my Netflix Instant Viewing account
these last couple of months due to frequent bouts of long-distance
synchronized movie viewing. While the selection in that format still
isn’t nearly as good as it is through the DVD program, plenty of classic
movies are available, among them Steel Magnolias, one of those films I’d always heard of but never really knew much about.
Steel Magnolias revolves around sweet but defiant Shelby, played by Julia Roberts. A sickly Southern belle, she knows that having a baby could wreak havoc on her health, but she is determined to be a mom, and the wedding that occurs near the start of the movie is soon followed by a pregnancy, much to the aggravation of her overprotective mother M’Lynn, whom Sally Field portrays just as forcefully as she does Forrest Gump’s spunky mama.
Surrounding these two is a circle of supportive women that includes feisty Truvy (Dolly Parton), a silver-tongued hairdresser; naive Annelle (Daryl Hannah), a newcomer to town in search of herself; and bickering old friends Clairee (Olympia Dukakis) and Ouiser (Shirley MacLaine). Truvy’s colorful colloquialisms are always good for a chuckle, and it’s fun to see how Annelle’s look changes from season to season, but the most entertaining member of this close-knit group is Ouiser, who revels in her own grouchiness.
While there are several men of significance in the movie, particularly Shelby’s husband Jackson (Dylan McDermott) and laid-back dad Drum (Tom Skerritt), these female friendships really form the core of the movie. The performances are all very strong, and the setting almost feels like a character itself as we see the town at several different times, gorgeous in its own way in each. Easter and Christmas are particularly memorable in the way they relate to the events in the lives of the characters.
Steel Magnolias is one of those movies containing a mix of genres. At times it feels very much like a comedy, but it also has powerfully dramatic moments, and the two seem to dance around each other with a striking grace. While the movie is more focused on women, it’s certainly not for an exclusively female audience, and the man I watched it with has long considered it a favorite. I felt acutely aware of my freakish near-inability to cry at movies as the film neared its bittersweet conclusion, but I certainly felt the emotion of several pivotal scenes and laughed heartily at others. I’m glad I can finally check this movie off my Must Watch list and transfer it to my list of films I would be happy to see again.
Steel Magnolias revolves around sweet but defiant Shelby, played by Julia Roberts. A sickly Southern belle, she knows that having a baby could wreak havoc on her health, but she is determined to be a mom, and the wedding that occurs near the start of the movie is soon followed by a pregnancy, much to the aggravation of her overprotective mother M’Lynn, whom Sally Field portrays just as forcefully as she does Forrest Gump’s spunky mama.
Surrounding these two is a circle of supportive women that includes feisty Truvy (Dolly Parton), a silver-tongued hairdresser; naive Annelle (Daryl Hannah), a newcomer to town in search of herself; and bickering old friends Clairee (Olympia Dukakis) and Ouiser (Shirley MacLaine). Truvy’s colorful colloquialisms are always good for a chuckle, and it’s fun to see how Annelle’s look changes from season to season, but the most entertaining member of this close-knit group is Ouiser, who revels in her own grouchiness.
While there are several men of significance in the movie, particularly Shelby’s husband Jackson (Dylan McDermott) and laid-back dad Drum (Tom Skerritt), these female friendships really form the core of the movie. The performances are all very strong, and the setting almost feels like a character itself as we see the town at several different times, gorgeous in its own way in each. Easter and Christmas are particularly memorable in the way they relate to the events in the lives of the characters.
Steel Magnolias is one of those movies containing a mix of genres. At times it feels very much like a comedy, but it also has powerfully dramatic moments, and the two seem to dance around each other with a striking grace. While the movie is more focused on women, it’s certainly not for an exclusively female audience, and the man I watched it with has long considered it a favorite. I felt acutely aware of my freakish near-inability to cry at movies as the film neared its bittersweet conclusion, but I certainly felt the emotion of several pivotal scenes and laughed heartily at others. I’m glad I can finally check this movie off my Must Watch list and transfer it to my list of films I would be happy to see again.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Find Inspiration in Life's Journeys According to Mister Rogers
Last week, a YouTube video featuring Mr. Rogers swept across Facebook.
Cleverly edited and auto-tuned, it was a music video created from clips
of Fred Rogers speaking to his young viewers at various points on his
show, the central thought being, "You can grow ideas in the garden of
your mind." It was whimsical, inspiring and nostalgic, and it reminded
me that on a recent trip to the library, I had taken out Life's Journeys According to Mister Rogers, a collection of his wisdom published in 2005.
This follow-up to The World According to Mister Rogers follows the same basic format. The cover is turquoise instead of red, but the inside looks much the same, with a clean format that makes for easy perusal. The text on each page is set inside of a rectangular outline. No page features more than one quote, but several quotes stretch across more than one page. In these instances, the outline is incomplete. If the quote does not end on a given page, the bottom side is missing. If it is continued from a previous page, the top is missing. This basic design helps make the book very easy to read.
The book begins with a ten-page reflection from Fred's wife, Joanne Rogers, who discusses his keen interest in people and his deep belief in Heaven and in a God who truly wants to see everyone there. This sets the tone for this book, which is more overtly spiritual than the first. The subject of God comes up quite often over the roughly 140 pages of quotes spread across three chapters: Who You Are Right Now, Loving and Being Loved and Guided Drift. Of course, so does the notion of being special, as this is how he saw every person he encountered, and it was deeply entwined with his theology.
The idea of people being comfortable with who they are is central to the first chapter, which also includes thoughtful ruminations on the art of listening and taking time to ponder questions deeply and on the human longing for redemption. He occasionally mentions someone he admires to set forth their example. For instance, he shares a story of how master cellist Yo-Yo Ma encouraged one of his students, and he twice quotes Antoine de Saint-Exupery: "What is essential is invisible to the eyes."
The chapter is rich in gentle wisdom, but I think my favorite thought comes toward the beginning, when he says, "I believe that at the center of the universe there dwells a loving spirit who longs for all that's best in all of creation, a spirit who knows the great potential of each planet as well as each person, and little by little will love us into being more than we ever dreamed possible. That loving spirit would rather die than give up on any one of us."
The second chapter is the shortest, though not by much; the book is fairly evenly divided. Here, he turns his attention to interpersonal relationships, talking about how important people are to each other. He speaks of the love of friends, relatives, neighbors - all those special someones who make a person feel truly appreciated. Here, he asserts that genuinely loving someone means loving even the parts of them that aren't so perfect and that the most cherished memories tend to be of the simplest moments.
He urges everyone to look for the good in others and nurture it instead of condemning. The tone is always affirming and uplifting. For instance, my favorite quote from this chapter reads, in part, "I believe that appreciation is a holy thing - that when we look for what's best in a person we happen to be with at the moment, we're doing what God does all the time. So in loving and appreciating our neighbor, we're participating in something sacred."
The third chapter is really about the idea of life being a journey with paths that branch off in unexpected directions. He discusses how much potential each person has and how figuring out one's purpose tends to involve a lot of experimentation and is an ever-changing thing. He also emphasizes the need for comfort from friends and renewal through solitude during trying times, and he urges risk-taking and being willing to face failure.
The final quote in the book sums up the philosophy that guides the pages preceding it. This is the patient host so many children grew up with, and anyone who applies these lessons will be the better for it. "My hope for you at the beginning of this new moment in your life is that you will take good care of that part of you where your best dreams come from, that invisible part of you that allows you to look on yourself and your neighbor with delight. Do your best to appreciate the gifts that you really are and always will be - to look for every opportunity that allows you to clap and cheer, loving your neighbor as yourself."
This book is a quick read, with some quotes only a sentence long and the longest ones only taking up 15 lines per page. It's easy to breeze through but worth taking more slowly, mulling over each morsel and ingesting it carefully. While some of the quotes here come from his show, the primary audience is not children. Rather, it is adults who yearn for a life of greater serenity and gentleness. Spending and afternoon with Fred Rogers may just make that more attainable.
This follow-up to The World According to Mister Rogers follows the same basic format. The cover is turquoise instead of red, but the inside looks much the same, with a clean format that makes for easy perusal. The text on each page is set inside of a rectangular outline. No page features more than one quote, but several quotes stretch across more than one page. In these instances, the outline is incomplete. If the quote does not end on a given page, the bottom side is missing. If it is continued from a previous page, the top is missing. This basic design helps make the book very easy to read.
The book begins with a ten-page reflection from Fred's wife, Joanne Rogers, who discusses his keen interest in people and his deep belief in Heaven and in a God who truly wants to see everyone there. This sets the tone for this book, which is more overtly spiritual than the first. The subject of God comes up quite often over the roughly 140 pages of quotes spread across three chapters: Who You Are Right Now, Loving and Being Loved and Guided Drift. Of course, so does the notion of being special, as this is how he saw every person he encountered, and it was deeply entwined with his theology.
The idea of people being comfortable with who they are is central to the first chapter, which also includes thoughtful ruminations on the art of listening and taking time to ponder questions deeply and on the human longing for redemption. He occasionally mentions someone he admires to set forth their example. For instance, he shares a story of how master cellist Yo-Yo Ma encouraged one of his students, and he twice quotes Antoine de Saint-Exupery: "What is essential is invisible to the eyes."
The chapter is rich in gentle wisdom, but I think my favorite thought comes toward the beginning, when he says, "I believe that at the center of the universe there dwells a loving spirit who longs for all that's best in all of creation, a spirit who knows the great potential of each planet as well as each person, and little by little will love us into being more than we ever dreamed possible. That loving spirit would rather die than give up on any one of us."
The second chapter is the shortest, though not by much; the book is fairly evenly divided. Here, he turns his attention to interpersonal relationships, talking about how important people are to each other. He speaks of the love of friends, relatives, neighbors - all those special someones who make a person feel truly appreciated. Here, he asserts that genuinely loving someone means loving even the parts of them that aren't so perfect and that the most cherished memories tend to be of the simplest moments.
He urges everyone to look for the good in others and nurture it instead of condemning. The tone is always affirming and uplifting. For instance, my favorite quote from this chapter reads, in part, "I believe that appreciation is a holy thing - that when we look for what's best in a person we happen to be with at the moment, we're doing what God does all the time. So in loving and appreciating our neighbor, we're participating in something sacred."
The third chapter is really about the idea of life being a journey with paths that branch off in unexpected directions. He discusses how much potential each person has and how figuring out one's purpose tends to involve a lot of experimentation and is an ever-changing thing. He also emphasizes the need for comfort from friends and renewal through solitude during trying times, and he urges risk-taking and being willing to face failure.
The final quote in the book sums up the philosophy that guides the pages preceding it. This is the patient host so many children grew up with, and anyone who applies these lessons will be the better for it. "My hope for you at the beginning of this new moment in your life is that you will take good care of that part of you where your best dreams come from, that invisible part of you that allows you to look on yourself and your neighbor with delight. Do your best to appreciate the gifts that you really are and always will be - to look for every opportunity that allows you to clap and cheer, loving your neighbor as yourself."
This book is a quick read, with some quotes only a sentence long and the longest ones only taking up 15 lines per page. It's easy to breeze through but worth taking more slowly, mulling over each morsel and ingesting it carefully. While some of the quotes here come from his show, the primary audience is not children. Rather, it is adults who yearn for a life of greater serenity and gentleness. Spending and afternoon with Fred Rogers may just make that more attainable.
Joyful Noise Is a Musical Celebration
I've always liked the idea of making a joyful noise, but I have tended
to think of it in terms of being an activity that involves more
enthusiasm than talent. However, in the 2012 movie Joyful Noise, written and directed by Todd Graff, the parties in question can really sing up a storm.
This is a light-hearted feel-good film with splashes of comedy and romance. It involves a plucky little choir whose director (Kris Kristofferson) has just died, leaving his perky wife G. G. (Dolly Parton) and the replacement director, the commanding Vi Rose (Queen Latifah), at odds with each other over how to proceed next. With their final shot at winning the national competition looming, the pressure is on for them to really excel.
Complicating matters is the fact that Vi Rose's daughter Olivia (Keke Palmer) and G. G.'s newly arrived grandson Randy (Jeremy Jordan) are the two best singers around and are also very interested in each other. G. G. doesn't have a problem with this, but Vi Rose does, and it introduces even more tension into an already contentious choir. Can they pull it together for the big win?
This is a predictable movie with strong shades of Sister Act 2 and GLEE, but I still got a kick out of this tale of the Little Choir That Could. Not all of the humor is a home run; while I was amused by the exploits of a lonesome woman who fears she will never love again after her beau kicks the bucket, I found the insistence of one choir member on immediately repeating everything she finds funny to be quite tedious. Most of the humor comes from zesty G. G.'s zingers, particularly when they are aimed at Vi Rose.
While the basic storyline focuses on the choir's efforts to win this big competition, the movie is just as much about reconciliation between these two powerful women in the congregation and the developing relationship between their teenage relatives. It's also about Vi Rose's family regaining a sense of closeness in the wake of her husband's absence and her son Walter's (Dexter Darden) increasing struggles with Asperger's Syndrome. Darden does an especially nice job in what may be my favorite role in the movie.
Joyful Noise probably doesn't have the staying power of a Sister Act 2, but it's still an uplifting movie filled with lots of music that is not only enthusiastic but harmonious as well.
This is a light-hearted feel-good film with splashes of comedy and romance. It involves a plucky little choir whose director (Kris Kristofferson) has just died, leaving his perky wife G. G. (Dolly Parton) and the replacement director, the commanding Vi Rose (Queen Latifah), at odds with each other over how to proceed next. With their final shot at winning the national competition looming, the pressure is on for them to really excel.
Complicating matters is the fact that Vi Rose's daughter Olivia (Keke Palmer) and G. G.'s newly arrived grandson Randy (Jeremy Jordan) are the two best singers around and are also very interested in each other. G. G. doesn't have a problem with this, but Vi Rose does, and it introduces even more tension into an already contentious choir. Can they pull it together for the big win?
This is a predictable movie with strong shades of Sister Act 2 and GLEE, but I still got a kick out of this tale of the Little Choir That Could. Not all of the humor is a home run; while I was amused by the exploits of a lonesome woman who fears she will never love again after her beau kicks the bucket, I found the insistence of one choir member on immediately repeating everything she finds funny to be quite tedious. Most of the humor comes from zesty G. G.'s zingers, particularly when they are aimed at Vi Rose.
While the basic storyline focuses on the choir's efforts to win this big competition, the movie is just as much about reconciliation between these two powerful women in the congregation and the developing relationship between their teenage relatives. It's also about Vi Rose's family regaining a sense of closeness in the wake of her husband's absence and her son Walter's (Dexter Darden) increasing struggles with Asperger's Syndrome. Darden does an especially nice job in what may be my favorite role in the movie.
Joyful Noise probably doesn't have the staying power of a Sister Act 2, but it's still an uplifting movie filled with lots of music that is not only enthusiastic but harmonious as well.
The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane Has a Startling Secret
I am not a fan of horror movies, but I’m inclined to enjoy thrillers as
long as they aren’t too violent. That’s especially the case if the cast
includes an actor I especially like. The Sixth Sense turned me into a Haley Joel Osment fan, while Jodie Foster’s presence helped sell me on watching The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane,
the 1976 movie in which she stars as a 13-year-old who arouses
suspicion when she moves into a fancy house on the outskirts of a
close-knit community.
Foster is Rynn, a resourceful teen who shows an impressive ability to fend for herself. It doesn’t take long for the audience to realize that rather than living with her father, as she claims to anyone who asks, Rynn is living alone. She stays in as much as possible, pretending to be home-schooled, and in a sense this is true, except that she is her own teacher. It’s a system that works well with most people, but two particularly nosy neighbors threaten her lifestyle.
Alexis Smith is the quintessential busybody as Mrs. Hallet. Of course, she has a right to be involved; after all, she is the landlady. Nonetheless, she takes her role to an unpleasant extreme, making it very difficult for Rynn to maintain her ruse. Even more obnoxious is her son Frank, who Martin Sheen makes thoroughly creepy from the moment he first appears at her door on Halloween. He has a reputation as the town pervert, which helps Rynn to keep her distance from him in public, but keeping him out of her house is a more difficult matter.
Happily, Rynn does have a couple of townsfolk looking out for her. She finds a fast friend and firm protector in Miglioriti, a mild-mannered cop played by Mort Shuman. While he has his suspicions about her living situation, he is a fairly trusting soul, and his main concern is that she is safe and well cared for, so he’s not that difficult to appease. The only person Rynn truly confides in is his nephew Mario (Scott Jacoby), an aspiring magician just a little older than her who offers her a first taste of romance.
While there is something vaguely unsettling about Foster in this role, she remains sympathetic, a kid with a lot stacked against her who is just trying to make the best of her lot in life. She and Jacoby work well together, making an appealing team, while Shuman simply makes me smile whenever he’s on screen because he exudes salt-of-the-earth good-heartedness. The major creep factor comes in with Sheen, who I’m used to seeing in much more likable roles. He serves as the primary antagonist here, and he really makes you just want to throttle him.
The musical score is interesting, with suspenseful moments often punctuated with surprisingly upbeat music, while the cinematography sets a lonely tone fitting for the tale of a girl who lives in such isolation. There is a bit of violence, particularly a cringe-worthy moment involving a very vulnerable character, but most of the unpleasantness is left to the imagination, so it never got too intense for me to continue watching. It’s a rather strange movie, but that strangeness is part of its appeal. If you’re looking for something just a little spooky, The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane is a good pick.
Foster is Rynn, a resourceful teen who shows an impressive ability to fend for herself. It doesn’t take long for the audience to realize that rather than living with her father, as she claims to anyone who asks, Rynn is living alone. She stays in as much as possible, pretending to be home-schooled, and in a sense this is true, except that she is her own teacher. It’s a system that works well with most people, but two particularly nosy neighbors threaten her lifestyle.
Alexis Smith is the quintessential busybody as Mrs. Hallet. Of course, she has a right to be involved; after all, she is the landlady. Nonetheless, she takes her role to an unpleasant extreme, making it very difficult for Rynn to maintain her ruse. Even more obnoxious is her son Frank, who Martin Sheen makes thoroughly creepy from the moment he first appears at her door on Halloween. He has a reputation as the town pervert, which helps Rynn to keep her distance from him in public, but keeping him out of her house is a more difficult matter.
Happily, Rynn does have a couple of townsfolk looking out for her. She finds a fast friend and firm protector in Miglioriti, a mild-mannered cop played by Mort Shuman. While he has his suspicions about her living situation, he is a fairly trusting soul, and his main concern is that she is safe and well cared for, so he’s not that difficult to appease. The only person Rynn truly confides in is his nephew Mario (Scott Jacoby), an aspiring magician just a little older than her who offers her a first taste of romance.
While there is something vaguely unsettling about Foster in this role, she remains sympathetic, a kid with a lot stacked against her who is just trying to make the best of her lot in life. She and Jacoby work well together, making an appealing team, while Shuman simply makes me smile whenever he’s on screen because he exudes salt-of-the-earth good-heartedness. The major creep factor comes in with Sheen, who I’m used to seeing in much more likable roles. He serves as the primary antagonist here, and he really makes you just want to throttle him.
The musical score is interesting, with suspenseful moments often punctuated with surprisingly upbeat music, while the cinematography sets a lonely tone fitting for the tale of a girl who lives in such isolation. There is a bit of violence, particularly a cringe-worthy moment involving a very vulnerable character, but most of the unpleasantness is left to the imagination, so it never got too intense for me to continue watching. It’s a rather strange movie, but that strangeness is part of its appeal. If you’re looking for something just a little spooky, The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane is a good pick.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Cassandra & Jane Celebrates a Legendary Sisterhood
In Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice, Jane
Austen created two of literature’s most endearing and enduring pairs of
sisters. This celebration of the sisterly bond makes sense because the
most important relationship in the author’s life was with her sister,
Cassandra. Jill Pitkeathley’s novel Cassandra & Jane explores
that relationship from Cassandra’s perspective, piecing together a
portrait of a joint life that feels very authentic.
Jane Austen was a prolific letter-writer, and many of her letters to Cassandra were preserved for the ages and remain available for appreciative readers to peruse. I haven’t read these myself, but many are excerpted here. Meanwhile, Pitkeathley takes a stab at guessing the contents of several of the letters Cassandra famously burned after her sister’s death. Many have wondered what intrigues these missives might contain; Pitkeathley’s solution is that some detail foiled love affairs, while others show Jane’s mean streak rather too acutely.
My impression has always been that Jane was rather like her most celebrated heroine, the tart-tongued Elizabeth Bennet, while Cassandra was like sweet-tempered Jane Bennet, and this book reinforces that notion. According to the novel, Cassandra does have a strong jealous streak when it comes to her sister, often fearing that she will lose her to romance, fame or more intellectual friends, but she never reveals this insecurity to any of her acquaintances or relatives and rarely mentions it even to Jane. For the most part, she comes across as just as even-keeled as Jane Bennet.
The book is largely a biography of the sisters, albeit with fanciful touches. Unlike with The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen, which I read earlier this year, it is easy for me to imagine that the book actually is a memoir rather than a novel. That’s largely because Cassandra’s voice here is so much as I imagined it to be, whereas Jane’s in the other book seemed like far too much of a shrinking violet. In this book, she is much zingier, and the conversations between the sisters feel very realistic.
The book, which is set up to have been written a couple of years before Cassandra’s death – and nearly 30 years after Jane’s – covers every period of Jane’s life, from idyllic childhood to the miserable decade in Bath to the richly creative final years. Letters are used plentifully, and the book includes many references to Austen’s six novels at various stages of completion. The foiled romances actually take up very little room; a flirtation with an Irishman named Tom Lefroy – the main storyline in the movie Becoming Jane – occurs while Cassandra is away, and while she is present for the courtship with clergyman George Atkins, whom they meet in Lyme, that does not last long either.
One element of the book that I found interesting was the sisters’ speculation about those aspects of marriage that had been kept hidden from them, particularly what “conjugal duties” might involve. There seems to be a great deal of nervousness about this issue and very little information. What both the women understand all too well, however, is what a dangerous business childbirth is, as several women in their family die in the process. Cassandra is particularly aware of this since she has been present for the births of several nieces and nephews, though she never witnesses the actual birth.
With these reservations about the physical dangers of motherhood, there is a thread throughout the book of some relief on both the sisters’ parts that they were spared those difficulties, despite their deep disappointments in love, particularly Cassandra, whose longtime fiance died overseas before they could wed. Mostly, there is gratitude that they have each other, and each seems to agree that even a husband would be no match for the closeness that they share. Moreover, the spinster lifestyle seems far more suited to an authoress, and one wonders how many novels Jane would have written or published had she married.
Jane Austen may not have ever seen a romance through to fruition, but her characters certainly did, and they continue to enchant readers long after her death. There’s no way of knowing how a different lot in life would have affected her productivity and fame, but the one thing that’s certain is the fact that Jane and Cassandra shared an extraordinary kinship, and this novel delves into it in a manner that any enthusiast should be able to appreciate.
Jane Austen was a prolific letter-writer, and many of her letters to Cassandra were preserved for the ages and remain available for appreciative readers to peruse. I haven’t read these myself, but many are excerpted here. Meanwhile, Pitkeathley takes a stab at guessing the contents of several of the letters Cassandra famously burned after her sister’s death. Many have wondered what intrigues these missives might contain; Pitkeathley’s solution is that some detail foiled love affairs, while others show Jane’s mean streak rather too acutely.
My impression has always been that Jane was rather like her most celebrated heroine, the tart-tongued Elizabeth Bennet, while Cassandra was like sweet-tempered Jane Bennet, and this book reinforces that notion. According to the novel, Cassandra does have a strong jealous streak when it comes to her sister, often fearing that she will lose her to romance, fame or more intellectual friends, but she never reveals this insecurity to any of her acquaintances or relatives and rarely mentions it even to Jane. For the most part, she comes across as just as even-keeled as Jane Bennet.
The book is largely a biography of the sisters, albeit with fanciful touches. Unlike with The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen, which I read earlier this year, it is easy for me to imagine that the book actually is a memoir rather than a novel. That’s largely because Cassandra’s voice here is so much as I imagined it to be, whereas Jane’s in the other book seemed like far too much of a shrinking violet. In this book, she is much zingier, and the conversations between the sisters feel very realistic.
The book, which is set up to have been written a couple of years before Cassandra’s death – and nearly 30 years after Jane’s – covers every period of Jane’s life, from idyllic childhood to the miserable decade in Bath to the richly creative final years. Letters are used plentifully, and the book includes many references to Austen’s six novels at various stages of completion. The foiled romances actually take up very little room; a flirtation with an Irishman named Tom Lefroy – the main storyline in the movie Becoming Jane – occurs while Cassandra is away, and while she is present for the courtship with clergyman George Atkins, whom they meet in Lyme, that does not last long either.
One element of the book that I found interesting was the sisters’ speculation about those aspects of marriage that had been kept hidden from them, particularly what “conjugal duties” might involve. There seems to be a great deal of nervousness about this issue and very little information. What both the women understand all too well, however, is what a dangerous business childbirth is, as several women in their family die in the process. Cassandra is particularly aware of this since she has been present for the births of several nieces and nephews, though she never witnesses the actual birth.
With these reservations about the physical dangers of motherhood, there is a thread throughout the book of some relief on both the sisters’ parts that they were spared those difficulties, despite their deep disappointments in love, particularly Cassandra, whose longtime fiance died overseas before they could wed. Mostly, there is gratitude that they have each other, and each seems to agree that even a husband would be no match for the closeness that they share. Moreover, the spinster lifestyle seems far more suited to an authoress, and one wonders how many novels Jane would have written or published had she married.
Jane Austen may not have ever seen a romance through to fruition, but her characters certainly did, and they continue to enchant readers long after her death. There’s no way of knowing how a different lot in life would have affected her productivity and fame, but the one thing that’s certain is the fact that Jane and Cassandra shared an extraordinary kinship, and this novel delves into it in a manner that any enthusiast should be able to appreciate.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Cheer Yourself Up With The Book of Awesome
When I was perusing the shelves at the bookstore that has replaced the
one where I now work, I happened upon a book whose title jumped out at
me: The Book of Awesome. The word “awesome” particularly stood
out, since it was printed in a bright array of rainbow colors, and I
started flipping through it and found myself agreeing with many of the
headings.
I eventually learned that this nearly 400-page-long book was culled from the blog 1000awesomethings.com, one of those blogging success stories that makes so many folks who have written online flush a bit with jealousy. Neil Pasricha started his blog with a readership consisting of just his parents, and his intention was merely to create a little oasis of pick-me-ups for himself after a long day in the office, something to counteract all the bad news assaulting him wherever he looked. He had no idea that it would go viral, but the blog, which started in 2008, gained a readership of millions.
Still, it’s hard to begrudge a guy his popularity when most of his posts are just so smile-inducing. Some of the ones in this book have been shortened, while others only contained a few words to begin with. I like those short and sweet ones, but Pasricha’s writing style is accessible enough that the entries spanning two or three pages make for equally enjoyable reading. While there’s a certain amount of snark that sneaks into several of his observations, the stronger impression is of gratitude and enthusiasm. Reading this book just may make you more aware of life’s little pleasures and more open to seeking them out.
Pasricha’s book is a blend of observational humor and warm positivity. A hint of nostalgia peeks through many of the entries as he explores the joys of childhood or young adulthood, usually while pointing out that such sources of happiness – the sound of scissors cutting construction paper, the smell of fresh crayons, the art of a carefully constructed couch fort – are available to people of any age. Reflections on the sweetness of intergenerational dancing at wedding receptions and the wistful pleasure of remembering departed friends tug gently at the heartstrings, while some, like the entry on the joy of handwritten mail, might serve as a catalyst for improving someone else’s day.
A lot of the entries are more on the silly side, but I still found myself nodding my head. Yes, I always get a charge out of popping bubble wrap. Yes, it’s a rush to shout out the answer to the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune well before the contestants figure it out. I love stepping into the neat boot holes that traverse an otherwise pristine snowy landscape and figuring out what movie I remember a particular actor from (a task, I might add, made immeasurably easier through the wonders of IMDb).
Naturally, there are also a few entries I disagree with. For instance, the smell of both frying onions and ground coffee makes me gag, and I derive no pleasure from observing public flatulence. Still, I can relate to the vast majority of the entries here, and reading them makes me want to compile my own list of things that are awesome. While it took a while to get used to, I also like the way he bolds key words to draw the eye more readily to them. I imagine this has something to do with catering to online readers who tend to skim, but it works well on the page too.
The name and tone of the book, along with many of the references he drops, suggest that Pasricha is around my age, someone who soaked up hours of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as a kid and never quite abandoned the 80s lingo. If LOST’s mellow cheermeister Hurley were to start up a blog, I imagine it might look a lot like what Pasricha has done. It’s just a feel-good collection designed to get you to stop and enjoy all the tiny moments of happiness that occur when you least suspect them. It’s certainly good for a smile.
I’m not sure my worldview entirely lines up with Pasricha’s. Some of his humor is a tad crass, and he seems to approach everything from a purely secular viewpoint, though the book does not so much reject religion as avoid the subject altogether. It also largely side-steps schmaltz, but it still is frequently heartwarming. In any case, I think there’s ultimately little in this book that would offend most people, and I imagine that many have the same experience I did of grinning in recognition at some of the joys that Pasricha highlights. It’s a volume that encourages people to think of all the times they’ve encountered such occurrences and to be more prepared to savor each one when it happens next. If you’re in the midst of a down day, that really can be awesome.
I eventually learned that this nearly 400-page-long book was culled from the blog 1000awesomethings.com, one of those blogging success stories that makes so many folks who have written online flush a bit with jealousy. Neil Pasricha started his blog with a readership consisting of just his parents, and his intention was merely to create a little oasis of pick-me-ups for himself after a long day in the office, something to counteract all the bad news assaulting him wherever he looked. He had no idea that it would go viral, but the blog, which started in 2008, gained a readership of millions.
Still, it’s hard to begrudge a guy his popularity when most of his posts are just so smile-inducing. Some of the ones in this book have been shortened, while others only contained a few words to begin with. I like those short and sweet ones, but Pasricha’s writing style is accessible enough that the entries spanning two or three pages make for equally enjoyable reading. While there’s a certain amount of snark that sneaks into several of his observations, the stronger impression is of gratitude and enthusiasm. Reading this book just may make you more aware of life’s little pleasures and more open to seeking them out.
Pasricha’s book is a blend of observational humor and warm positivity. A hint of nostalgia peeks through many of the entries as he explores the joys of childhood or young adulthood, usually while pointing out that such sources of happiness – the sound of scissors cutting construction paper, the smell of fresh crayons, the art of a carefully constructed couch fort – are available to people of any age. Reflections on the sweetness of intergenerational dancing at wedding receptions and the wistful pleasure of remembering departed friends tug gently at the heartstrings, while some, like the entry on the joy of handwritten mail, might serve as a catalyst for improving someone else’s day.
A lot of the entries are more on the silly side, but I still found myself nodding my head. Yes, I always get a charge out of popping bubble wrap. Yes, it’s a rush to shout out the answer to the puzzle on Wheel of Fortune well before the contestants figure it out. I love stepping into the neat boot holes that traverse an otherwise pristine snowy landscape and figuring out what movie I remember a particular actor from (a task, I might add, made immeasurably easier through the wonders of IMDb).
Naturally, there are also a few entries I disagree with. For instance, the smell of both frying onions and ground coffee makes me gag, and I derive no pleasure from observing public flatulence. Still, I can relate to the vast majority of the entries here, and reading them makes me want to compile my own list of things that are awesome. While it took a while to get used to, I also like the way he bolds key words to draw the eye more readily to them. I imagine this has something to do with catering to online readers who tend to skim, but it works well on the page too.
The name and tone of the book, along with many of the references he drops, suggest that Pasricha is around my age, someone who soaked up hours of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as a kid and never quite abandoned the 80s lingo. If LOST’s mellow cheermeister Hurley were to start up a blog, I imagine it might look a lot like what Pasricha has done. It’s just a feel-good collection designed to get you to stop and enjoy all the tiny moments of happiness that occur when you least suspect them. It’s certainly good for a smile.
I’m not sure my worldview entirely lines up with Pasricha’s. Some of his humor is a tad crass, and he seems to approach everything from a purely secular viewpoint, though the book does not so much reject religion as avoid the subject altogether. It also largely side-steps schmaltz, but it still is frequently heartwarming. In any case, I think there’s ultimately little in this book that would offend most people, and I imagine that many have the same experience I did of grinning in recognition at some of the joys that Pasricha highlights. It’s a volume that encourages people to think of all the times they’ve encountered such occurrences and to be more prepared to savor each one when it happens next. If you’re in the midst of a down day, that really can be awesome.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Morgan Freeman and Greg Kinnear Blend Drama and Comedy in Feast of Love
Sometimes a movie comes up in my Netflix queue, and I don’t even
remember putting it there and couldn’t say what compelled me to do so.
This was the case with Feast of Love, the 2007 R-rated dramedy
featuring a diverse cast of characters finding and losing love in
different ways. When I saw that Morgan Freeman was in it, however, I
didn’t question my choice, and it was his character that truly kept me
engaged throughout the movie.
Freeman is Harry Stevenson, a revered college professor having a more difficult time moving on from a crippling tragedy than his wife Esther (Jane Alexander). He frequents the coffee shop run by idealistic Bradley Smith, played very earnestly by Greg Kinnear. Bradley is naive and oblivious, tending to see people as he wants them to be rather than as they are, which has a devastating effect on his marriage and subsequent attempts at love. We want him to succeed because he’s so lovable, but it’s easy to see why failure keeps following him around.
One of his employees, sweet but drug-riddled Oscar (Toby Hemingway), has better luck when free-spirited Chloe (Alexa Davalos) waltzes into the shop looking for a job. They’re young adults who really don’t know what they’re doing and don’t get any help from their respective parents, one of whom is irresponsible, while the other is downright abusive. Instead, they turn to Harry for advice and solace, and the bond that develops between these two couples separated by half a century is the sweetest element of the movie, particularly the way Harry and Chloe help each other recover from painful losses.
This movie, directed by Robert Benton, earns its R rating with harsh language, drug use, violence and pervasive extramarital sexuality, with nudity used to comic effect in one scene. I could have done with less of that, and it made the movie a bit hard for me to get into, but ultimately I still found the film appealing and redemptive. It aptly demonstrates the importance of clear communication in matters of the heart, and it doesn’t restrict its notion of love to romance, either. Freeman grounds the movie in a gentle gravitas, while Kinnear gives the funniest performance of the film and keeps his storyline mostly in the realm of comedy despite – and largely because of – its pathetic detours.
While I probably would have liked this movie a little better if it had been PG-13, I nonetheless found it a funny and touching film about love in its many forms and its power to shape lives.
Freeman is Harry Stevenson, a revered college professor having a more difficult time moving on from a crippling tragedy than his wife Esther (Jane Alexander). He frequents the coffee shop run by idealistic Bradley Smith, played very earnestly by Greg Kinnear. Bradley is naive and oblivious, tending to see people as he wants them to be rather than as they are, which has a devastating effect on his marriage and subsequent attempts at love. We want him to succeed because he’s so lovable, but it’s easy to see why failure keeps following him around.
One of his employees, sweet but drug-riddled Oscar (Toby Hemingway), has better luck when free-spirited Chloe (Alexa Davalos) waltzes into the shop looking for a job. They’re young adults who really don’t know what they’re doing and don’t get any help from their respective parents, one of whom is irresponsible, while the other is downright abusive. Instead, they turn to Harry for advice and solace, and the bond that develops between these two couples separated by half a century is the sweetest element of the movie, particularly the way Harry and Chloe help each other recover from painful losses.
This movie, directed by Robert Benton, earns its R rating with harsh language, drug use, violence and pervasive extramarital sexuality, with nudity used to comic effect in one scene. I could have done with less of that, and it made the movie a bit hard for me to get into, but ultimately I still found the film appealing and redemptive. It aptly demonstrates the importance of clear communication in matters of the heart, and it doesn’t restrict its notion of love to romance, either. Freeman grounds the movie in a gentle gravitas, while Kinnear gives the funniest performance of the film and keeps his storyline mostly in the realm of comedy despite – and largely because of – its pathetic detours.
While I probably would have liked this movie a little better if it had been PG-13, I nonetheless found it a funny and touching film about love in its many forms and its power to shape lives.
Mystic Pizza is a Tasty Movie
Earlier this month, I had a much-anticipated meeting that was celebrated
with pizza. To gear up for this, we spent the preceding evening
watching Mystic Pizza, the 1988 Julia Roberts movie centering on
three young women who work in a small pizza shop in a picturesque New
England town. While I’d heard the title before, this was one of those
classic flicks I’d never gotten around to watching, so it was fun to
immerse myself in this movie that served as one of the earliest vehicles
for Roberts as well as the screen debut of Matt Damon, though his role
is of the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it variety.
Roberts is Daisy Arujo, a worldly young woman whose promiscuity and lack of academic interest frustrates her mother immensely. Her younger sister Kat (Annabeth Gish) is sweet and studious, but this summer will test her as she finds herself falling for Tim (William R. Moses), the father of a young girl she babysits. Their friend Jojo (Lili Taylor) has issues of her own as she struggles with her aversion to commitment after passing out at her own wedding, which is then called off.
Of the three, the character who appealed to me most was definitely Kat, and Gish turns in an excellent performance that shows us both her intelligence and naivety. Under different circumstances, her blossoming relationship with Tim would be quite sweet, but he’s married (albeit away from his wife currently), and even if he wasn’t, she’s underage and significantly younger than him. You know it’s not going to end well, but there are moments when it’s easy to forget that.
Jojo’s would-be husband Bill is a sympathetic salt-of-the-earth fellow, and Vincent D’Onofrio really shines in a scene in which he takes her to task for her desire for physical intimacy without any strings attached. Also likable is Adam Storke as Charles, the upper-class young man who has won Daisy’s affections, and his response to her actions in the film’s funniest scene is priceless.
While most of the drama occurs away from the pizza shop, it’s a grounding location to which the characters return again and again, bolstered by the maternal management of Leona (Conchata Ferrell), who alone holds the secret to the pizza’s irresistible sauce. The shop itself has a charming starring moment that reminded me so much of Pixar’s Ratatouille that I wonder if the latter film was influenced by it at all. It’s a lovely moment that exemplifies the sense of family this shop has provided for its employees.
Mystic Pizza is a movie that made me hungry, and it’s also a movie that made me smile. Not a bad combination at all.
Roberts is Daisy Arujo, a worldly young woman whose promiscuity and lack of academic interest frustrates her mother immensely. Her younger sister Kat (Annabeth Gish) is sweet and studious, but this summer will test her as she finds herself falling for Tim (William R. Moses), the father of a young girl she babysits. Their friend Jojo (Lili Taylor) has issues of her own as she struggles with her aversion to commitment after passing out at her own wedding, which is then called off.
Of the three, the character who appealed to me most was definitely Kat, and Gish turns in an excellent performance that shows us both her intelligence and naivety. Under different circumstances, her blossoming relationship with Tim would be quite sweet, but he’s married (albeit away from his wife currently), and even if he wasn’t, she’s underage and significantly younger than him. You know it’s not going to end well, but there are moments when it’s easy to forget that.
Jojo’s would-be husband Bill is a sympathetic salt-of-the-earth fellow, and Vincent D’Onofrio really shines in a scene in which he takes her to task for her desire for physical intimacy without any strings attached. Also likable is Adam Storke as Charles, the upper-class young man who has won Daisy’s affections, and his response to her actions in the film’s funniest scene is priceless.
While most of the drama occurs away from the pizza shop, it’s a grounding location to which the characters return again and again, bolstered by the maternal management of Leona (Conchata Ferrell), who alone holds the secret to the pizza’s irresistible sauce. The shop itself has a charming starring moment that reminded me so much of Pixar’s Ratatouille that I wonder if the latter film was influenced by it at all. It’s a lovely moment that exemplifies the sense of family this shop has provided for its employees.
Mystic Pizza is a movie that made me hungry, and it’s also a movie that made me smile. Not a bad combination at all.
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