Turn Me On, Dammit is so sweet.

It is like molasses.  (Do they eat molasses in Norway?) Or, it is the answer, "Yes," to Renee's question for me this morning, re the film, "Is it a doorbell?"

Pikk-Alma gets ready for the party at the Youth Center.  Artur will be there!

There is so much to love about this adorable Norwegian coming of age comedy; how completely unsentimental it is; all the wonderful girl characters, the three sisters, including the pink lip-gloss addicted Ingrid, the hip college student redhead, Maria, with the cool flat and housemates in the big city, Oslo, and my fave Sara, the cynical chain smoking brunette who wants to move to Texas to abolish the death penalty and is pen pals with death row inmates; the absolute vision of loveliness that is our protagonist, Alma, desperately horny and hopelessly in love with Artur; the sweetest, nicest phone sex guy ever, Stig, who always wants to know how it is going between Alma and Artur; Alma's gentle flustered Mother, who works at the turnip factory; Kjartan (I totally want to change my name to Kjartan -- that is pronounced:  zhar-tan), the smelly, hash smoking, crap moustache loner kid who writes poems to his love, Sara, and calls her his Saralou; Alma's wonderful opening introductory litany that introduces us to her small, boring, lovely, awful little Norwegian town; the fantasy sequences; flipping off the town sign every time; the trip to the big city, Oslo, hanging with the super cool college kids, drinking red wine; the trampoline girls; Pikk-Alma; the ending; the indie rock music, especially Franz Is Dead; the whole "Smash the Social Democratic State!" fruit abuse scene; the bus shelter; and on and on and on, ...

Ever so highly recommended.  A delightful must-see.






And I bet you Turbonegro love the film, too.  They get it.






Back to work, but this week ends with a trip to St Helena, something to look forward to! Love you all, ...













AH