Visit Scarecrow Video!

Scarecrow Video, just off of Roosevelt & 50th in the U District in Seattle has EVERY title! Ask any one of the employees as you walk in for any new release, genre, director, obscure indie or international title and their degree in film studies will register beneath the lenses, and a pointer finger will raise to the exact location of that movie. Beware. When I say EVERY movie…I mean it. Many are not for young eyes…or mine. But go.

If you remember seeing The Hunt for Red October on an old gigantic lazer disc and you’ve ever wanted to relive that experience, you can rent players there. Even VHS players (what are those, right?), and projectors for that backyard film fest. Remember that one that you saw with your mom on Turner Classics when you were little that just haunts you? They’ve got it. What’s that one Wes Anderson movie? It’s there, and they know.

So, go! Visit Scarecrow Video and support a local legend. If you have out of town guests coming in, show them Seattle and take them to Scarecrow. Let them pick the movie or take them to the Italian film section and rent Life is Beautiful for a lovely and memorable evening.  Say Hi to Kevin for me while you’re there. Shake his hand. He’s a good man.

I heart Scarecrow Video!

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS (2011)

I spent the loveliest week in Paris this afternoon. No, I know, I have always wanted to go there. It was perfect – just as I’d imagined it. Who? Oh, I was there with some of my favorites like Owen Wilson, Michael Sheen (no relation to Charlie, no), Woody Allen, and Adrien Brody.

T.S. Eliot, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and a few of their artistic companions joined us, Matisse, Dali, Degas, Gauguin & Picasso to name a few.

Marion Cotillard, Rachel McAdams, & even Alison Pill & Kathy Bates were there.

 

We all swooned and danced to Cole Porters tunes and fell in love under the same sparkling pink lights lining the Seine.

I shall always agree with Gertrude Stein who said, “America is my country and Paris is my hometown.”

WATER FOR ELEPHANTS (2011)


I’m reminded of an interview I once saw with Tom Hanks who for some reason was talking about his favorite Elvis movie called “Roustabout.” In his very Tom Hanks style he quoted both Elvis and Barbara Stanwick, first uttering like the guttural girl, “This is not a circus, it’s a carnival and don’t you forget it!” Then lifting the corner of his upper lip, “So a uh, a carnival has like a ferris wheel and a circus has, like elephants?” Well, I’d love to have seen this circus flick with Mr. Hanks, even though the actors would be less mimicable. Robert Pattinson, ironically called Jacob in this film, actually acts. He reacts as only a hero could – for the right despite the consequences. His performance reminded me of Keanu Reeves in his true chick flick A Walk in the Clouds. Not terribly dimensional, but likeable and kindred. Reese Witherspoon hasn’t aged. I read once that she insists on sleeping 10 to 12 hours per night, and that it’s her secret to success and happiness, and youth, and physical beauty. Nah. Really? Nah.

This is a movie movie, for entertainment alone. No hidden symbolism. Just straightforward plot moved by characters on a train who hate then love each other, who learn from one another, and who fight to survive despite the ringleader’s cruelty. Triumphs and tragedies, loyalties and love affairs, the inner ring of circus life.

YOU AGAIN

Hot at a redbox near you…did this one miss the theaters?

I’ll tell you. It’s something like Freaky Friday meets Avatar meets High School Musical.

No. It’s an episode of Smallville meets almost any Sandra Bullock film.

No. It’s…it’s…

Did I ever tell you why I can’t stand home movies. Yes, all home movies. Of friends, of relatives, yep, even of myself. Especially the funniest home video shows. It’s because they drag on forever without a plot, or a truly funny moment, and they move so slowly that you have time to mentally configure 100 ways that the moment could have been better. Yeah, that’s You Again.

DATE NIGHT


Tina & Steve take the city and work it believably as middle-marrieds in this fam-com. Classic Steve. I was only disappointed when they used the same jokes multiple times and had to add the visit to the cesspool for a pole dancing scene. Didn’t I see most of this premise on an episode of King of Queens? …just checking. I suppose it’s worth a viewing. Or you could always revisit the most classic of date nights =

ECLIPSE

Team…uh…Edward? Bella? Jacob…Team, uh, Howard?

So, I did it. Pulled the old bait and switch. TS3 was exiting the theater, and my curiosity pervaded my decision-making centers and pulled me into the next theater in time to see Bryce Dallas Howard in a bare-toothed battle against Robert Pattinson. My sister’s boyfriend calls my action petty larceny. Semantics. I feel that I was the one wronged. I had a skin-glimmer of hope that Oprah was right this time and that this extreme, blood-soaked trilogy was worth its weight. But wait, what’s going on? I stifled the laugh from the back row of the sniffling audience as Taylor welled up all of the sweat that he could muster from his well-read abs. Sadly his best acting occurred beneath CGI fur. And Pattinson showed all fifteen magnum facial expressions as Bella professed that her agitated life force found its belonging in his ways and and in his kind. You know that feeling when you’ve cried so hard you start to laugh? Or throw up. Or that feeling of feeling nothing because you don’t understand the popularity of these three awkward enemies finally finding friendship and love. Wow.

Yes, I’ve opened the book…research. I perused a few chapters. It seems enticing, certainly. I want to understand the fanaticism, and the rare eqinanimous love affair with book and film alike. Perhaps the effect of a ubiquitous media education…and what my mother calls demonic influence.
Dakota Fanning says she really enjoyed the challenge of wearing the red contacts. I’m glad that she and Kristen are friends. Everyone needs friends. The big puzzle for me is Bryce. Bryce, daughter of filmmaker Ron Howard & M. Night’s fav it girl, is an actual actress. She, however, may also have let curiosity damage her hypothalamus.

EAT, PRAY, LOVE

This could have been called Walk, Sit, Smile. As our hero rushed out of her ordinary world, she became a traveler, a thinker, a mimic, a devout even thoughtful character. I cried through this whole movie. I kept wondering why as I walked away from the theater and down toward the waterfront to catch the last bits of sunset. What had I learned from this film? Certainly, my lessons are not the same, but I feel for her as she experiences pain . I ache for the lost, the compassless, the grieving. This film opened a stranger’s medicine cabinet, and allowed viewers ample opportunities to recognize that the perscriptions have our names inscribed on them. We feel for Julia. In many ways, as any good story should, we feel we are not simply like the hero, but that we are the hero. My story may not take me around the world, but the obstacles, the triumphs, the discoveries, the journey itself : these are the same. My compass, however, is the Jesus and His word. Without it, I too would likely find myself on a similarly blunderous journey listening to all voices longing for the one that sounds most like a father.
(Originally published at http://splattersfilmblog.blogspot.com/)

AUSTRALIA (2008) movie review

On a sick day, one needs a movie movie to snuggle in to.
Australia is just such a film. It was a 3 hour commitment in theaters. Call me crazy, but I’m a sucker for a good story. I cared about the characters. I wanted the best for each one.
In this film, I’m transported, and I imagine myself in the midst of such dire entanglements.
I carry aspects of this film in my pocket – the inner-connective Wizard of Oz story, the Aboriginal heritage, the journey, the war, the struggle. But mostly, I carry the vivid color and surging life of this film. It is a survival story. It is a love story. It is my favorite of Baz Luhrmann’s colorful collection, despite my utmost respect for his Romeo + Juliet, which I couldn’t teach English without. For you and for me, on our Meg Ryan-esque (You’ve Got Mail) sick days. Enjoy.

MORNING GLORY…2010

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Message. Films relay messages. This film, by director Roger Michell (Notting Hill), offers insight into a dream attained at the cost of living. It’s that classic idea that life worth living is not lived for work.  Our star example, Rachel McAdams (The Notebook, Time Traveler’s Wife) runs on little sleep, a passion for news, a coffee iv, and high-heeled dashes that would give Andy Sachs a run for her money.  Her initiative rivals Streisand (circa The Way We Were), but to what end? Harrison Ford too easily stepped into the role of overpaid, cantankerous aging reporter, high-maintenance and full of pride. Yet, he her mentor, antagonist, priest, and father figure, arrives at and delivers the conclusions that time spent with people is more important than any award, position, or dream fulfilled. Lovely message.

However, the delivery of that message came in what looked like a glorified pizza box. Characters, though well-acted and incredibly likable, were also equally forgettable.  Rough language detracted from otherwise insightfully written lines. Amoral centerpieces make for a tasteless meal. It’s as though the filmmaker took a dose of his own advice as he made this film and decided that time with his family was more important than making a beautiful film of renown.  Bad Robot (J.J. Abrams) produced this piece, but I would have preferred to see more of his direction in the film. Perhaps he could have worked harder to deliver the message with a moral twist and thereby creating a memorable and more palpable film.

EAT, PRAY, LOVE…2010…Julia Roberts at her best

This could have been called Walk, Sit, Smile. As our hero rushed out of her ordinary world, she became a traveler, a thinker, a mimic, a devout even thoughtful character. I cried through this whole movie. I kept wondering why as I walked away from the theater and down toward the waterfront to catch the last bits of sunset. What had I learned from this film? Certainly, my lessons are not the same, but I feel for her as she experiences pain . I ache for the lost, the compassless, the grieving. This film opened a stranger’s medicine cabinet, and allowed viewers ample opportunities to recognize that the perscriptions have our names inscribed on them. We feel for Julia. In many ways, as any good story should, we feel we are not simply like the hero, but that we are the hero. My story may not take me around the world, but the obstacles, the triumphs, the discoveries, the journey itself : these are the same. My compass, however, is the Jesus and His word. Without it, I too would likely find myself on a similarly blunderous journey listening to all voices longing for the one that sounds most like a father.