"James is from the Valley, he'd probably like Chablis."

When Renee and I first started going out, I think I showed her a VHS copy of Paul Bartel's eighties/swinger cult classic, Eating Raoul, for the first time, never expecting her to like the film quite as much as she did.

For a while there, Renee wanted to take Eating Raoul to bed with her every night, to fall asleep to. And, the quote above, the "title" of this post, has become part of our personal Secret Language and is uttered by us all the time, oftentimes as a complete non sequitur -- but mostly whenever anyone talks about or drinks Chablis.

Anyhoo, it is my personal pleasure to announce that Criterion is releasing Eating Raoul on bluray on Renee's birthday next month -- and, no, that will not be her birthday present from me, Clever Clogs!

I am sure many will scoff that Criterion would do a super duper treatment on this silly little, very cheap, extremely black -- and sexy -- comedy.  Scoff away, I do not care.  I can not wait.

************

Today should be a lovely lazy day, doing laundry, drinking fabulous wine and eating wonderful food.  We deserve it.  That was a long week we just finished.

All my love, I hope everyone has a splendid Sunday,










Mwah, ... 

Like one of our culture's all-time greatest

Sufferers, The Dude, from The Big Lebowski, Renee also lost a very valuable collection of music when she totaled her car last year.

Her Creedence was my Blue Eyed Soul cd I had made for her of my own volition.  (We were going through a big Hall and Oates thing-y at the time.  Do not snicker, ... )

Anyhoo, I finally got around to making her a new copy of the cd she lost in the crash.  Here is the playlist and some videos:

PNUT'S (NEW) BLUE EYED SOUL


1.  Amy Winehouse/Me & Mr Jones

2.  The Spencer Davis Group/I'm a Man




3.  Average White Band/Pick Up the Pieces




4.  Dusty Springfield/Don't Forget About Me




5.  Carole King/I Feel the Earth Move




6.  Todd Rundgren/I Saw the Light




7.  Robert Palmer/Sneakin' Sally Through the Alley




8.  Ambrosia/How Much I Feel




9.  Daryl Hall and John Oates/I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)




10.  Daryl Hall and John Oates/Maneater




11.  Bobby Caldwell/What You Won't Do For Love




12.  David Bowie/Young Americans




13.  Boz Scaggs/Lowdown




14.  Carole King/It's Too Late




15.  The Spencer Davis Group/Every Little Bit Hurts




16.  Average White Band/Cut the Cake




17.  George Michael/One More Try




18.  Ace/How Long









I love you all,
Ardent

We were mighty pressed for time,

Encountered two traffic slow-downs, had to navigate parking in what might be the world's largest garage, figure out automated ticket buying, settle for pre-made popcorn, find a bathroom, and find the theater in the airport terminal known as the Metreon in The City.

(What is up with the Metreon? It was Renee and I's first visit there, and both of us never want to go back.  Very strange; teenagers canoodling on tables, Prom kids -- looking very lovely -- swanning through the mob and holding court, graybeards playing pinball, indie kids posing with paperbacks, the expected Avengers crew in an Avenger length queue.  Honestly, this type of melange of humanity would normally please me to no end.  Perhaps, because we were in a hurry? Was it the popcorn problem? We shook our heads disgustedly on the way out.  Never again.)

But we made it on time, despite our adventures.  (I was off at four.  The film played at ten past five.) And there is nothing more sexy on a movie date than arriving just as the film begins.

Jared Gilman.

And what of Moonrise Kingdom? Well, I am not sure if I am in a state worthy of speaking of the film in a critical manner.  But, I will try my best.  I have not felt this dreamy, this elated, this dazed upon leaving a movie theater in I do not know how long.  The film had such a personal connection to me that I felt as if I had watched it alone, as if my Wife were nowhere near me, that the rest of the house had never existed.

Wes Anderson's style has not changed.  It is the same as all his other films: inset shots, the same pastel pallet, an extra massive plot point precisely halfway through the film, the excruciating attention to detail, the composed shots, the triumphant anti-authoritarian slow motion sequence, the quick pans and tilts, the dollhouse half sets, and on and on, ...

But it is the love story in this film, a love story of two twelve year old children, both with considerable baggage in addition to what they carry when they run away together, that elevates this particular Anderson film to greatness,  and that means Moonrise Kingdom can sit comfortably on the shelf next to Anderson's other two masterpieces, Bottle Rocket and Rushmore.

On the island of New Penzance -- an island with no paved roads; an island of sad, fucked-up misfit adults -- it takes two damaged children with the guts and passion and love necessary to create a history for themselves to save the grown-ups and their sad little corner of the world, to survive the flood and cultivate and produce a new golden fulsome harvest the next Autumn.

But in like all the best fairy tales and myths there will blood and shocks and hurts and pain.  There will be some that will not be pleased with the violence in this film.  I understand their point of view and I respect it.  But, I think it is absolutely essential to the story being told here.  Although not even remotely as violent as the film, Drive, I see Moonrise Kingdom and Drive as authentic heartfelt modern fairy tales.  Drive is a modern Arthurian legend, and Moonrise Kingdom allegorizes the Old Testament's Great Flood and the "virtuous heroine" adventure stories that our lead female character, Suzy, likes to read.   Both films would make a smashing double feature.  (But which to show first?)

And, I do not think I have ever seen a finer, more poetic, more honest, touching love scene for children in the American cinema.  It is something so difficult to do.  And, I have only been completely convinced and swept off my feet with these type of love scenes when watching french films.  The love scenes in Moonrise Kingdom reminded me of Eric Rohmer. Or Truffaut.  So, naturellement,  we will be listening to a Françoise Hardy record as these scenes play, infuriating Anderson's numerous vehement critics, crying out, "Clever clogs!" or "Precious!" Fine.  But it is beautiful to me.

I am still in a daze thinking about this film.  Just like it took me a few days to absorb and process Drive.  Both films are supremely heavy on style, yet, both films are able to transcend style and touch your heart, move you.  They are the work of two master film makers at the absolute top of their game, stunning achievements.


************

Random favorite moments from Moonrise Kingdom:  the earrings; "Do the other one."; the opening sequence with a Child's Guide to the Orchestra playing; the battery operated record player; the kitten; the treehouse; the triumphant slow motion walk out of the chapel tent; the other scouts scene where they join forces w/ Sam and Suzy; "I love you, but you don't know what you're talking about."; Sam and Suzy's hilarious and poignant epistolary sequence; Suzy's expression when Sam asks, "No, what type of bird are you?"; the stellar yet awkward naive performances delivered by Kara Hayward and Jared Gilman as Suzy and Sam; the production of Noye's Fludde; the tennis ball can; Sam and Suzy's heads peeking out over the church steeple; Jason Schwartzmann; Tilda Swinton hanging up the phone; Françoise Hardy; that the adult characters are so deeply realized despite having hardly any dialogue, at all; and the film's position that children can save their parents.  What a lovely idea that is.

Kara Hayward.

All my Monday love,
Ardent

Hey, Sweetie!

Break a leg, and knock 'em dead tomorrow, Sister!


Mwah, ... 
















Your loving husband,
M























P.S.  Here is a sweet showbiz video to get you ready for the big day.  Love you, ...

mds

Monty Python, Blackmail sketch.

Renee and I were just talking about blackmail.  I think she might have been right.  I might have meant something else.  Both things are bad.

And, yes, that is Terry Gilliam as the nude organist.

Oh Boie!

I just opened up my Democratic Party Primary Sample Ballot and I can not tell you how excited I am, that with California's new Jungle Primary Law in effect, I can cast a vote for Orly Taitz (Party Preference:  Republican.  Doctor/Attorney/Bidness Woman) for United States Senator! What fun!

"Where is the long-form Birth Certificate?"

(Plus, re-districting means George Miller is my United States Representative now.  Miller is one of a handful of public servants I can absolutely always count on to do the right thing -- and he shops at my store occasionally.  Woo-hoo! And Renee & I's polling place is at Heather Farms.  People get married where we vote.  Really takes the sting out of voting.)






mds

"Hope you're ready for my kind of love" Part One

I think my very first post on my old and extremely " ... not quite dead" (h/t Pythons, Holy Grail) blog, The Death of Irony, was written on a July 4th inventory.  And, I generally get a post published right before every inventory, still.  (I just checked.  It was my first post, July 6, 2008.)

I would really like to talk about the GOPs lovely little War on Women, which is legitimately happening right now, all over the country but this is my birthday week, and everything has been so wonderful in my life lately, that I will spare my wrath for those assholes until next week.  Plus, I will have plenty of time available to me to do so.  (I am taking my normal Birthday Staycation, which I do every year.)

These are the Rothko rooms at the Tate Gallery in London.  Absolutely stunning and life-changing, walking through there.

Instead, I figure I will tell a story about Renee, about our "courtship", if you will.  Renee and I would sort of get to know each other on breaks.  She'd hang out with her friend, Karen, eating sandwiches, and smoking.  I have always been "aloof" on my breaks, still am.  I do not really want to talk to anybody.  I would rather play on the computer or read books or newspapers.  So, when Karen and Renee would be outside I would be essentially eavesdropping on their conversations, or actually reading the SFChron or that Ealing book I was obsessed with at the time.  (RIP Googie Withers.)  And during those conversations was when I really started to fancy her.  I liked her because she had a lot of attitude, she was no goody-goody or diplomat.  Yet, despite that, you could also tell that she really cared about the under-dog, too; someone "who has a lot on their mind" was her polite euphemism for folks of that sort.

I decided to pursue her and I basically told the entire Specialty team what my intentions were.  In fact, I believe that the entire Bakery/Prepared Foods/Meat/Specialty half of the store probably knew of my pursuit.

Those were crazy days at the Walnut Creek store, the store had not even celebrated its first birthday yet.  There were a lot of parties, a lot of drink, and a lot of drugs, too.  Renee and I bumped in to each other at these "gatherings" all the time, but she really could not be bothered with me, and had other boys on her mind.

One other thing:  I had had this health problem on and off for years and no doctor could figure it out.  It would make these terrible rashes on my face and other parts of my body.  So, not only was I not v attractive, I was also horribly, brutally self-conscious about it and would be even more aloof when I looked really bad.  I would literally hide on my breaks, over by the office buildings, and not really speak to anyone but customers.  (Finally, a doctor at the City Hospital in Oakland diagnosed my issue correctly -- I "suffer" from seborrhoeic dermatitis -- and prescribed cortisone cream and told me the only shampoos I could use and I have been fine ever since.)

My "cure" came right before the Food Hole Holiday Party, so, all cleared up, I was bursting with confidence and told everyone on the Specialty Team (and my buddy, Rachael, in produce) that my goal was to kiss Renee at the Holiday Party.

Well, that did not happen.  Renee and I never seemed to have any opportunity to talk (or, she might have been avoiding me, period) at the party until we met at the bar, both of us ordering drinks.  She probably ordered a Manhattan and I probably ordered a beer and bourbon.  She looked me straight in the eye and said, "Hey, you're that guy who's always mean.  What's your deal?"

That was our first real conversation, I suppose.

I might have told her then about my health issue or maybe I didn't, I do not remember.  (Sexy, hunh? And smooth.  How did she not fall in love with me that night?)

But any kind of foot in the door is a foot in the door, right? 


We eventually started spending breaks together, talking a bit, smoking, etc, ... And, all the while I was very up-front, practically blunt.  I told her (all the time) that I liked her, that I wanted to be her boyfriend, that I was tired of one-night stands, that I was loyal, that I was dependable, that I was about the fucking smartest guy she would ever meet, that she should like me too, and on and on and on, ...

I had a v interesting strategy, wouldn't you say?

That is my old Berkeley jacket.  Notice that I insisted they stitch M. Modano for my name.  

My next big shot was at a New Year's Party, but that was a bust, as well.  Though, back at work, I had some success with a little Rock 'n Soul singing/dancing performance I put on for her in the back downstairs hallway.  I was looking for beer to throw, she was going to the Bakery freezer, and they were playing Johnny Taylor's sizzling hot live version of Jody's Got Your Girl and Gone. I did the whole "rap" part for her, complete with the scream at the end.

"You know what I like about Jody?/You know what I like about Jody?/You know what I like about Jody?/You know what I like about Jody?/Has enough sense/To express himself/Tell her how cute she look/Tell her how pretty she walk/Tell her how cute she talk/Tell her how ... OOAWWWWWWWGH!"

She was a little impressed even if she didn't admit it.  I was so convinced, so confident that I would win her over in the end that I had no reservations at all about recommending a wine for her for a romantic dinner at her house with another boy.  (I recommended Louis Latour Domaine de Valmoissine, probably the 1998 or 1999 vintage.)  I knew I would get my chance and that I'd stick the landing when I got it.  

************

But, it is getting close to time for me to go and count wine bottles.  I do not sell Dom de Valmoissine anymore.  

So, this will be Part One.  Part Two will be published soon, and it will tell the tale of My Big Chance, the jacket pictured above, crazy Bernard, Valentine's Day 2002, Dan's, La Scala, and anything else I can remember.

I love you all, but I especially love my Sweetie.

HAPPY INVENTORY, EVERYONE!

--AH

This must be the greatest Twelve Days of Michael's Birthday

In a very long time.  The best days have been the last four:  Day Five (dinner w/ my folks at Metro); Day Six (Dinner w/ my folks at our house and Renee makes a stunning risotto, profiteroles, and serves a delicious burrata, too.  Plus, we watch the brill movies:  The Art of the Steal and The Trip); Day Seven (my folks treat us to a scrumptious dinner at Rivoli); and last night, Day Eight, which deserves some special mention.

Day Eight began w/ me seeing a beautiful, giant wild turkey, strutting his regal way past my bedroom windows. Work was work, I threw the load, ho hum, but then, I bought my birthday present on my walk home, an iPod Touch (just 8gb, which is fine for me.)

But Meghan hung out w/ us, bringing us amazing pizza from Rotten City Pizza in Emeryville.  She also brought over vodka for martinis for the girls, and made yet another one of her sterling green salads.

Meghan & Renee (iPhone Gurls both) got me all hooked up and running on my new toy, and we were like a bunch of teenage gurls on a sleepover, constantly texting eachother, even though we were all in the same room.

We watched Bedazzled (the good Peter Cook/Dudley Moore/Stanley Donen version) and then some really crappy girly teevee.  I think I even asked Meghan if she did want to stay the night.

(By the way, if I ever am in another band, we will most definitely be covering this song.)

************

When I talked to Nick C this morning he said he had had a girly night, too.  He got in his jammies, had popcorn & ice cream for dinner and watched a bunch of v girly teevee.  There must be something in these Aries stars right now.





All my Aries love,
AH












"I want cake and pie."

Gosh & Golly!

Spring is here and things are looking up.

Finally, there is joy, reading the NYT Friday Movie page.  I want to see Scenes of a Crime, Turn Me On Damnitt, Moonrise Kingdom, Damsels in Distress, and about three or four others, ...

"Watch out for the operators."

Next week is my birthday.  Baseball season is about to begin. (Yu Darvish vs Ichiro and the Mariners on Monday, April 9.)  Soon the sun will be setting at 8:30 pm.  (Heaven!)

6'6" and very handsome, too.

My parents are in town for the weekend, taking Renee & I to Rivoli for a birthday dinner on Monday.

I will take some time off after Inventory Thursday.

Renee & I (and Molly and Mavis) are healthy and happy and things are looking up!


Gosh & Golly!





All my love,
Ardent

There were two things I liked

About The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo:  The opening credit sequence, which dispenses with the credits in under ninety seconds and the final fifteen, twenty minutes of the film where Rooney Mara vanquishes one of the film's many villains and then sets about "courting" Daniel Craig. Sorry, spoilers and all, but I do not think I am really spoiling anything.

(Re the opening credits:  Renee nailed it a few bars in and said, ever so casually, "That's Karen O, singing." Brill.)

Rooney Mara, near the only thing I liked about this movie.

So, that accounts for a little over twenty minutes of a one-hundred and fifty-eight minute long motion picture.  That does not make for a very pretty Slugging Percentage.

I understand that this is a very dark, bleak, Swedish story about disgusting and inhumane men who do disgusting and inhumane things to women but could Fincher use a different palette for once? These sickly, nauseating yellows and greens he keeps using over and over in every one of his films are near to becoming a joke, or self-parody.  Are there not other colors in the spectrum that could tell this story?

And does any audience need to suffer through yet another, "I have trapped you just when you thought you had me.  Yes, I killed them all.  And now I am going to talk to you all about it for the next five minutes or so.  Hopefully, your partner will not get here in time to save you, yes?" You know, if it is something like BBC Sherlock, or Hot Fuzz, or the OSS movies, or the crappy James Bond franchise, or anything even showing the barest modicum of irony or sense of humor then I can buy it.  But not with this film.

(There are far too many reasons to recount here why Kind and Hearts and Coronets is a stunning masterpiece, the finest film Ealing produced, but one of them is director and screenwriter, Robert Hamer's take on this type of scene:  Dennis Price has trapped the last member of the D'Ascoyne family -- all members of the D'Ascoyne family are played by Sir Alec Guinness -- that he needs to execute in order to become the Duke of Chalfont.  Price tells Sir Alec that he has murdered them all and that he is going to murder him, too.  Price tells Sir Alec he did it because of the shameful way they excommunicated Price's mother from the D'Ascoyne family after she married for love instead of status.  Then Price aims his rifle and shoots Sir Alec dead.  Price runs away.  End of scene.)

I thought Rooney Mara's performance was terrific.  I loved every little detail of the way she inhabited Lisbeth.  My fave detail was the way she held her cigarettes. But, I also liked her make-over scene because it reminded me of the film, Battle of Algiers and the scene where the Muslim Algerian women put on Western make-up and clothes in order to "blend" and set off a terrorist bomb.

Daniel Craig did not do much of anything for me, nor did the guy who played Martin, and Christopher Plummer was essentially wasted here.  (Plummer did get some good lines, one of which is, "Isn't it interesting how fascists always steal the word, freedom?")

Overall, it was a really big disappointment for me and Renee feels the same.  She might like it a little more than I do.  Or maybe I am just a big baby and should stick to Miss Marple and Detective Montalbano.  Those months of darkness really do take a toll on Sweden, hunh?



All my love,
Ardent

Yeah, this is probably more my speed, hunh?

This might be like kicking a hornet's nest.

Came home last night, eager to watch The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.  But Renee was watching something else, and was so absorbed/taken with it (and, besides, Girl is 150 minutes long) that we watched her selection, Mona Lisa Smile, instead.  Hoo-boy.

(By the way, Ms Diskowski pulled off yet another stunning dinner last night:  Grilled pork chops, pan-fried kale, and cannellini beans with crispy prosciutto on top.  For whatever reason, Ms Diskowski did not take a photo.  But it was real.  No joke.  We drank 2006 -- the winery sent me an older vintage by mistake -- Hendry Chardonnay, which was absolutely sublime.  It is showing magnificently right now.)

Anyroad, back to Mona Lisa Smile.  Despite a fantastic cast:  Julia Roberts (one of the Wife and I's faves); McNutty from The Wire; Kirsten Dunst (does not make a good brunette, should always be blonde); Ginnifer Goodwin (Renee and I like her, too); Maggie Gyllenhaal (already way too old for her part in the film); Julia Stiles (criminally under-rated); Marcia Gay Harden; John Slattery; Juliet Stevenson (one of my all-time faves); Topher Grace; and even Aleksa Palladino for, like, two seconds of screen time! And despite the film's obvious good intentions and feminist message, Mona Lisa Smile is an awful motion picture.

Where do I begin? The musical score for one thing is so heavy handed and annoying.  In fact, heavy-handed should be the essential expression, describing Mona Lisa Smile.  Director, Mike Newell, goes for every big emotional moment as if playing whack-a-mole.  The "villain" of the picture, Ms Dunst's student character's transformation at the end is wholly unbelievable and unsupportable.  Julia Stiles' "I choose to be a housewife" speech seems like a PC cop-out, which probably is the result of Newell's poor direction and Ms Roberts' sleepwalking performance in this extremely crucial scene.  Sadly, despite this being a possible big Hollywood show-offy role for Ms Roberts, she is not up to it.  I suspect Ms Roberts had doubts about the material.  The absolute worst is the song chosen for the end credits, which is grossly inappropriate, Sir Elton John's, The Heart of Every Girl.  So terrible.

Yeah, I will take Lone Scherfig's An Education over Newell's Mona Lisa Smile every day of the week, and twice on Sundays.

Aleksa Palladino in Todd Solondz' creepy, difficult masterpiece, Storytelling.

After Mona Lisa Smile we watched My Man Godfrey and fell asleep.  It had been a long week, after all.

Ciao!

Rants and Reviews

A couple of days ago I had a customer, standing in front of the Domestic Wall, Sauvignon Blanc section.  I asked her if she needed any help and she said, "Are the New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs mixed in with these? Because I don't see any."  I showed her to the New World set and pointed out where all the Kiwi SBs are.  She took a v cursory look, then asked if I had a certain brand.  I said, "No, I do not have that brand," and tried to sell her on Cloudy Bay, or Craggy Range, or Whitehaven, or Isabel.  She did not say anything, stood there a few more seconds and walked away.

************

There is a very cute little Italian film out there, streaming on Netflix, called Mid-August Lunch.  It tells the tale of a down on his luck dude, Gianni, living with his mother in a flat that is falling apart all around them.  Not only are they way behind in their rent, in danger of getting kicked out, but there is no way they can pay for any of the repairs the flat needs.  The landlord is sympathetic though and proposes a deal.  This is Europe, after all, and it is August, so the landlord is desperate to get out of town for a couple of weeks.  If the landlord's Mother can stay with Gianni and his Mother while he is on vacation he will forget all about the back rent.  Agreed.  But then the plumber comes by the next day.  Gianni can not pay him, either.  The plumber thinks about it and says, "If you could take care of my Aunt here while I go on holiday then I will do the repairs for nothing." Eventually, Gianni ends up having to deal with four cranky, elderly Italian Grandmas in a dilapidated apartment in the middle of a scorching hot Italian August.  It is a sweet and delightful motion picture.  But my favorite scene takes place in a wine shop.  Gianni goes in to purchase some wine.  The proprietor, Gianni's friend, asks Gianni what he would like today.  Gianni says, "Gosh, it is so hot out there, I would like some Chablis."  The proprietor says, "Would you like the expensive kind or the cheaper kind?" (What the proprietor is asking Gianni is if he would prefer Petite Chablis, which is entry-level Chablis, a blend of different lower-quality Chablis vineyards or 1er Cru or Grand Cru Chablis, which are single vineyard wines that come from the best Chablis vineyards.) Gianni says he would love some of the pricier stuff but can not afford it and asks for the cheaper bottle.  Ring it up, put it in a bag, Thank you, have a wonderful day!

See how easy that is.

Americans are so hung up on brands it drives me crazy.  It is much more important where the vineyards are located, and the quality of the vineyards then the Brand.  And there are plenty of very affordable options out there that still express the terroir of a specific region, especially in Europe and the New World.  (Napa and Sonoma not so much.  I love Spring Mountain Cabernet and there are no entry-level Spring Mountain Cabs made, really.  Ramsay is my best Napa Cab deal, Napa appellation, fifteen bucks.  Great deal.)

************

You know, oftentimes when I read a lukewarm or even hostile review of a film, I read right between the lines and realize I am going to like the film anyway, usually a lot.  Such was the case with Polanski's Carnage.

Renee and I adored the film, and why not? Let us see, we have Kate Winslet, Jodie Foster, Christoph Waltz, and John C Reilly in it.  It is based on a very famous, successful play.  Polanski directed and co-wrote the screenplay with the playwright.  It is masterfully performed and paced. The film gets in and out the door in eighty minutes.  It is absolutely side-splittingly hilarious.  And I always love seeing frickin' cell phones destroyed, to boot.

It may not be to everybody's taste, but it is right in Renee and I's wheelhouse, and we loved it.  All four of the main players are excellent but I thought Waltz's performance was especially curdled and magnificent.  I will definitely purchase Carnage for my home collection.

And Polanski is having a bit of a come back lately.  His previous film, Ghost Writer, was very good, too.

************

Ms Kiberlain on the left, but the cocktail dress on the right is stunning, too.

Renee and I also had a chance to re-watch The Women on the 6th Floor, which is aging nicely, indeed.  It was even better at home, than in the theater, I think.  Anyhoo, Renee and I love the costumes that Christian Gasc built for the film, especially the jackets, dresses, and blouses for the Wife character, played by Sandrine Kiberlain.  Just gorgeous, rich, textured, period appropriate (the film is set in Paris in the early 60s)  clothes that are absolutely perfect for Ms Kiberlain's hair, features, and long, elegant body type.

Ms Kiberlain on the left.

Unlike Carnage, The Women on the 6th Floor, is a movie I can heartily recommend to every one out there.  It is a real joy.







Mwah, ... 

My Week with Marilyn

Might have made a smashing short film, but stretched out to a hundred minutes it loses steam, rolls over, and nearly perishes.  The doll house scene is a real eye-roller. In fact once Eddie Redmayne "moves in" with Michelle Williams' Marilyn the film gets a bit dopey and overly-sentimental.  I liked Michelle Williams' performance (Renee was less impressed.)  And Kenneth Branagh  got to do his Sir Larry impersonation again.  (I bet all his friends are sick of that Party Piece.)

My favorite moment was a shot of Ms Williams looking out a set window just before she does a take.  But they did not hold the shot long enough.  I finally thought they had captured all the pain and torment behind that gorgeous face and then it was gone before it could completely be absorbed.

The best thing about the film is Nina Gold did the casting so I got to see all my favorite English actors in bit parts, including one guy, who I have not seen in anything since Dennis Potter's original, The Singing Detective.  (Hope he's been doing theatre all this time, ... )

By the by, speaking of Dennis Potter, when is Lipstick on Your Collar going to be released on dvd for the US market?

(And, Dominic Cooper, I still love you to pieces. And your American accent? It will get better. It took a  few films for Carey Mulligan, too.)



-- Ardent

There almost always is a method

To my madness.

The crucial albums that Renee and I listened to when we first starting "going out"/living together in 2002:

Electric Warrior/ T Rex
the first two White Stripes records (thanks to Chris McClung)
The Cars' eponymous debut (Thanks to Chris again)
Sticky Fingers/ The Rolling Stones
The Coast is Never Clear/ Beulah  (Renee and I saw Beulah at Bimbo's in the City in 2002.  For the first round of encores the singer/guitarist pulled me up on to the stage to play with the band.  I, naturally, immediately reached in to the crowd to pull Renee on to the stage with me.  She shook her head so furiously.  There was no way she was getting on that stage.)
Is This It?/ The Strokes
Field Studies/ Quasi
Bill Withers/ Lovely Day:  Bill Withers' Greatest Hits

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I invited Renee over for a lavish, insane Valentine's Day Dinner.  I was living in one of the coolest apartments in the entire Bay Area, with an absolute madman for a housemate.

One of my facebook friends was there, too.  Sean O.

Sean, did you bring a 1994 Ridge Monte Bello? Is that right?

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Renee, later that Summer, asked me to be her date for her parents fortieth Wedding Anniversary party.

Oh, I was furious.  Because this was the same day that the US played Germany in the World Cup Quarterfinals.  UGH!


Who would have known amongst all of us at the table that night that Renee and I would be married and have been together for ten years now?

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Thank goodness for you, Renee, who made me finally respect myself and become a man.  I love you to pieces, angel, and always will.






And, oh yeah, Germany beat the US one-nil.



Mwah, 
AH

Ma(i)sonry was awful, the only bad thing

This is Molly when we got home.

On our trip.  I do not want to get in to details about it.  You will have to take my word for it, I suppose.  Anyhoo, Renee and I are going to Yelp! their ass, hard.

Renee's salad at Bouchon

I love my Wife.  We'll prob  lay this down for at least four or five more years.

But my Wife loves me and she bought me a bottle of 2008 Lail Georgia.  (That was the whole reason to go to that lame, snooty, chi-chi place in the first ... )  Renee bought the wine at Dean and Deluca.  They gave her an industry discount for me; not the normal thirty per cent, but something.

Whatever.

Short Rib Rillette at Bouchon.  So amazingly good.

Yeah, that is right.  I had steak frites at Bouchon.  So frickin' sue me.

We went to Hendry Ranch on Sunday.  My Rep for Hendry set us up.  We said, No, to the tour. Renee and I have seen plenty of tanks and barrels, thank you very much.  Hendry said the tasting would take an hour and a half.  Whoa, I am starting to become wary.  We arrived and were told that George Hendry himself, the most spry and delightful man I have met in ages, would taste us on all their current releases.  Eek, when we sit down in a private room I see that that is about a Baker's Dozen wines.

Mr Hendry tells us a little bit about the Ranch he grew up and where all the wine grapes are grown. One hundred per cent Estate fruit.  We can see the vineyards right outside the window.  Estate fruit is what makes Mr Hendry's prices very reasonable for Napa Valley. Mr Hendry talks about wine a little differently than most wine makers.  He never mentions specific fruit tastes (notes) once.  Renee and I appreciate this.  Mr Hendry loves talking about food pairings.  He does not drink during the day but he has wine with every single evening meal (unless the wine he is drinking is too hot -- high in alcohol, or tasting of alcohol -- and then he quits the wine and finishes the meal.)  Mr Hendry does not like sweet wine.  He is unapologetic and proud to love dry wine. Refreshing.  Mr Hendry, upon finding out we work for the Food Hole raves about the Napa store and gets a few good plugs in for us.  Nice.  Mr Hendry shares some recipes with us.  Mr Hendry loves to talk about the palate.  The front palate, the back palate, if the wine flavor mouthfeel travels over both sides of your tongue, etc, ... Mr Hendry answers every single question we ask no matter how silly.  Mr Hendry has two awesome mannerisms that he uses for punctuation.  One is a clicking noise he makes with his mouth.  The other is a rap on the table with his finger.  Mr Hendry is a very savvy, frugal, and smart businessman.  Mr Hendry said the word, "bullshit" to us.  (He was talking about the clove flavors you get from his oak barrels for his Barrel Fermented Chardonnay -- $24 at Whole Foods Walnut Creek! Other folks actually add 'bullshit' clove flavors in to their wines and skimp on the barrels.)  Mr Hendry talks about the old house still on the property that he grew up in.  He says that was the style of house building then, Italianate architecture.  Then everyone started building Victorians.  They are renovating the old house.  It will be their new tasting rooms.  Mr Hendry gave us the proper thirty per cent discount.  Renee bought us four bottles of wine:  2008 Pinot Noir, 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon,  2009 Barrel Fermented Chardonnay, and 2010 Albariño.  (Love you, Renee!) We headed home feeling wonderful about life.

Thank you, Mr Hendry.







Mwah, ... 

Initially, the Wife wanted to see

The Skin I Live In (or:  La piel que habito, if you will.)  And I am interested in seeing that, for sure, but I also worried a bit, that perhaps Renee might not like the film, as it is very arty, very weird, spooky, long, and was foreign.

(Renee def likes foreign films, though, not so much at home, where it is a pain for her to read the subtitles.)

And this was planned for our Date Night, last Sunday, a couple of days ago, before we would have dinner at A16.  (Ho ho ho, Renee's Da laughed, You guys are married now, you do not get to go on dates anymore.)

(I went on a first date w/ someone in Austin, a million years ago, and we saw Barton Fink! Ugh! And once, before that date, I went on a first date w/ someone in Austin, a million years ago, and we saw Blue Velvet! Eek! Needless to say, those relationships did not really take off, if you will, though I am still long-distance friends w/ one of the someones.)

I told the Wife my misgivings and asked her to think about it.

So, late Saturday night, Renee has another suggestion:  Playing at the same theater (the Landmark Embarcadero, our fave art-house cinema), Renee now wants to see ... wait for it ... Melancholia, dir by Lars von Trier.  Hoo-boy.

I am agreeing w/ her Saturday night but am desperate Sunday morning to see if anything else is out there.  Drive is showing in The City, but at only one theater, at one time, nine twenty PM. So, that is a no-go.  I do notice that Midnight in Paris is still playing in The City, and tell the Wife that Midnight in Paris is Woody Allen's highest grossing film of all-time, Can you believe that? The Wife says it is just b/c Owen Wilson is in it.  We both loved the film but we do not want to see it again on our Date Night.  Things are looking grim.  I am preparing myself for Kirsten Dunst, rogue planets named after Freudian terms, Kiefer, and crazy depressing Lars.

(For what it is worth, my buddy, Nick C, went and saw Melancholia w/ his Special Lady Friend, and they both loved it.)

But I am saved! Hooray! Also at the Landmark Opera theater (where Midnight in Paris is playing) is what sounds like a delightful, heart-warming French film, The Women on the 6th Floor.

Renee is reluctant, still.  I read her Mick LaSalle's glowing review.  She remains wary.  I remind her how much she hated Charlotte Gainsbourg in The Cement Garden.  She does not remember seeing The Cement Garden.  I emphasize to her,how it would be better to see an uplifting movie on our Date Night, and she finally caves.  We move the reservation at A16 back a half-hour, and we are set.

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The Women on the 6th Floor is delightful.  Renee loves the movie (especially the cool, early 60s period brocaded, textured gowns -- Renee is really in to costumes and Art Design now in regard to films) and so do I.  It is a little sappy at the end, they hold the last shot waaaaay too long, but it is the perfect apertif for our dinner at A16.  (And yeah, I know I am talking about a French film -- about Spanish maids -- and an Italian restaurant.  So sue me.)

It was a splendid Date Night, certainly.

(And I had a cracked egg on my pizza for the first time, evah.)

Mwah, ...

I got a haircut.

Love you alls.

Couple of days ago, the Wife and I

This is what it looks like nearly every night.

Were assuming our usual positions on the sofa, covered in cats, tucking in to the delicious Bistro Jeanty tomato soup that Renee had made for us (thanks, Angel, it was so good), watching the tube, when a commercial for cell phones (or services, I do not know) came on.  It is the company that has that skinny chick for a spokesperson.  She always wears hot pink dresses.

Anyhoo, the commercial is an Xmas ad, featuring Santa's elves building 4G cellphones, I imagine, and all the elves have hot pink facial hair.  You have prob seen this, already.

Instantly, I thought to myself, and expressed, "You know, this is the first time I have seen this absolutely awful commercial, and the saddest thing is, I am going to see this commercial at least five hundred more times before this year is over."

Renee laughed.









(As I wrote this, and set up the Bistro Jeanty link, I was listening to John's Children.  So, when I brought up the Bistro Jeanty website, the French music melded w/ John's Children.  It actually sounded "pretty cool," as Dignan would say.)

Kisses,
xxxoooxxx

I dare say, that during the first act,

The first twenty-five minutes, or so, of the film, Beginners, written and directed by Mike Mills (not the bassist for R.E.M.), the Wife and I thought we were witnessing history, a full-on Little Masterpiece thrown in our laps.  It did not finish as a Masterpiece but it is still a deeply moving, wistful, still-life (of flowers in a vase), that is heartbreaking and profoundly life-affirming all at the same time.

She speaks strictly French when she is really upset

I do not want to spoil anything for anyone, but I must say this:  The Chaplin-esque, silent film, old twenties jazz score playing throughout,  with our female lead (the mysteriously precious Melanie Laurent) wearing a suit ("in drag") and suffering from laryngitis, at the Halloween party is an absolute stone-cold genius, maybe perfect piece of film making.  It is so brill and good that it is near impossible for me to believe that Mills wrote it from scratch.  It must have happened to him, exactly like that.

Extremely highly recommended,  Beginners will take a place in my personal private little Hall of Fame of film.

The Magic Number is four.

You know, even if the Rangers do not do well in the playoffs (or have a total collapse and do not even make the playoffs- do you like how I am tempering my expectations to avoid a nervous breakdown?) they have had a v fine season.  Face quit bellyaching and has had a remarkable year w/ two-hundred hits and competing for the batting title.  Derek Holland has really blossomed and looks like a possible Ace going forward.  CJ Wilson (in a contract year, natch) has become our own version of Cliff Lee and Adrian Beltre has been an absolute joy to behold this year, defensively, offensively, and in the clubhouse.  It has been an awesome year for Ranger fans and this organization might just be building a dynasty.  Watch this space.

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"What do you do when your life exceeds all expectations?" "You keep it to yourself."



Drive, the movie, starring Ryan Gosling, Albert Brooks, and Carey Mulligan, looks soooooo good to me but Renee is not impressed.  So I will either have to see it by myself (I have not done that in ages- and I used to do it all the time) or wait until it hits cable/dvd.  I am really looking forward to seeing Albert Brooks stab someone in the eye w/ a fork.  (I imagine I will be wishing he was stabbing William Hurt's character in Broadcast News.)

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Renee and I have a fabulous weekend planned.  It is part of a Wedding Present, we will spend the weekend in Sonoma County at one of my Wine Rep's Country House.  It is Renee's burthdaie this weekend (Sunday) and we're going to drink, eat fabulous food (incl checking out Applewood Inn, one Michelin Star) and reeee-lax. 

I am sure I will have tons of great photos for you next week. 

Mwah, ...

(The photo has nothing to do with the post,

I just like [love] the photo.)

Bears love The Rangers.

I was watching the US v John Lennon doc, which is pretty good- Gore Vidal is real good, especially- and Renee made some crack about something silly John and Yoko did.

And she is right.  John and Yoko did do a lot of silly, naive stuff.  But I would much rather watch the John and Yoko Reality Show than any of the Kardashians, Pretty Wild, Flipping Out, Zoe Whatever, any of that crap. 

Plus, John and (yes, even) Yoko made way better music on their "Show" than any of those vacuous, obnoxious housewives do today.

"Don't be tardy for the party!"

Mwah, ...