Jul 8, 2010

Lots to talk aboot

Right now.

Renee & I had a v groovy, laid back 4th.  I opened up my prize, the 1998 Le Petit Cheval, which seriously took a long time to come around but was really good eventually.  It was a bit more earthy or dusty than I expected but was chock full of blueberries & menthol, totally right bank Bordeaux, which I love.

We were gonna do a Miles from Sideways kind of thing & eat burgers with it but Renee decided to make BBQ chicken instead, with a corn hash kind of thing of corn, natch, red peppers, and shallots.  It was all around good.

We watched North by Northwest, I kept up with the Rangers (they lost on the 4th), & Renee fell asleep before the fireworks, which we could barely hear anyhoo.



Did the 3 dvds for 2 at Barnes & Noble yesterday & got some delicious stuff:  A Single Man, which I liked even more here at home than I did in the theater.  Yeh, it is eye-rollingly ponderous at times, weighty, and there are a lot of bells & whistles but the film really grabs me.  When Colin Firth lets loose on "fear" at one of his lectures to a bunch of disinterested students I really got the sense of his gravity of age & maturity and not just his character's maturity but Firth's as well.  And I remembered him back in Fever Pitch & Pride and Prejudice and I got the sense that I had grown up with him, yes? Whereupon, all day today I've been thinking about my growing-up and the way age reflects itself on my body, the eyes, my voice, posture, the chest, etc, ...

But it is not just that scene.  Firth's performance throughout is exemplary.  The scene where he learns about his lover's fatal car accident deserves special mention here, as well.  He plays the whole event seated in a chair and in just a few minutes conveys to us the entire history of his relationship with this man, and their dogs, whilst remaining near mute and mostly static.  Stunning.  (It smells faintly of Method, honestly, which generally I abhor, but, hey, what works, works, right? [Though Firth is English and Limeys are not typically big on Method, preferring a more technical style of acting, one I employed as an actor myself, and one I prefer to see.])  Now, the director, fashion designer, Tom Ford, (his debut, mind you) has already given us glimpses of Firth's lover & the dogs (a rookie mistake to me, though I have not read the novel the film is based on) and it is possible that I'm giving Firth too much credit.  Ultimately, having thought about this for a while now, I think Ford did Firth and his audience a disservice.  I believe that if folks watched that scene in the chair cold, and divorced from the rest of the film, most would express the same feelings and word-pictures that I have.  I could be wrong but it is likely the high point of Colin Firth's film career (I've never seen him on stage.)

Where Ford's bells and whistles do shine is in the bank scene, his use of a changing palette to contrast youth/innocence (the naughty [Lolita?] neighbor girl and her Mom) and age/resigned wisdom (Firth) does work a treat.

The one scene that most certainly worked better in the theater was Firth's scene with the always wonderful, Julianne Moore.  It worked better in the theater mainly because I finally heard Booker T & the MGs, in glorious mono, through big-time movie speakers.  Those guys in that group knew how to rumble your ass and get you off your seat and dancing.

And, to boot, not only did I get to grow up with Colin Firth, I got to watch Nichlolas Hoult, from About A Boy (a film I like a lot, novel too, Hornby, Fever Pitch, An Education screenplay, etc, ... ) grow up.  You know, his North American accent was not bad.  (For those who care, here is a little Nic Hoult porn for you.)  But, so far, this is how I most like to remember him.

I also bought Junebug.  Junebug is the slyest, most perfect little jewel box of a comedy.  It is moving, hilarious in parts, honest, and supremely faithful to the communities in which it inhabits (something the Cohen bros. always seem to fuck up, with the exception of Lebowski. Even Fargo, a great film, the Cohen bros. finest, abuses their hosts at the dinner table.  They are [v talented, mind you] carpetbaggers of the worst kind.  Blood Simple and No Country for Old Men bore and frustrate me to no end, ...      ANYHOO, ... )  Amy Adams, sadly, might never be this good again.  I hope she will ditch the Leap Year poop and return to her Indie roots or do big-time lavish musicals, but I fear that will not happen.

Speaking of Amy Adams, I finally saw Doubt.  This was good but not great.  One scene did remind me of World Cup (or the World Series, whatever) in the sense that I was thrilled to be watching three World Class actors (Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Streep, Adams) sharing a scene.  Meaty, fun stuff.

I love In Bruges, it is based on a play, but I haven't seen it in ages, so I will re-watch it soon and comment on it then.

It is time for the Rangers, anyhow.  I listen to the Ranger radio guys on the computer.  Eric Nadel was the color guy for the club way back in the late 70s/early 80s and I remember his article in (sadly) defunct Sport Magazine about how he came up with his home run call (which is, "That ball is HISTORY!" ) Nadel is the main guy now and has been for ages.  He is one of the best going and the Rangers are lucky/smart to have him.

A couple of days ago, though, this happened.  The guy is fine, a firefighter, and he got to meet Nolan Ryan.  I was listening to the game myself when it happened and recoiled when I heard the crowd gasp like they did.  I had never heard anything like that, personally, at a sporting event.  Spooky.

Good night.

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