Returning some DVDs, I asked mum (who was staying) if she had any requests. Something funny and romantic was the request. I have a confession (maybe you've worked this out already) - I don't like chick flicks. At least, not very much. Does Chicago count? Anyway, especially right now, I can't deal with people falling in love with each other on my tv screen. I came home with 3 that sort of fit into the romantic comedy genre, and after a very scientific behind-my-back shuffle, we watched Flypaper that night. And it was about as un-romantic as a romantic comedy can be. I enjoyed it very much - and so did mum, if you're wondering.
The main protagonist is a Sherlock Holmes-type of character. I liked him immediately. Actually, I'd put this comedy as a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Ocean's 11 - both movies up there on my favourites list. I'm still working on the relationship analogy, but I'm sure it's out there. And - for the record - I found this a much more acceptable path to a relationship than what I often see (and, for example, in Beautiful Lies). Basic plot: the Sherlock Holmes sort (okay, Tripp - played by Patrick Dempsey) is in the bank and gets caught in the middle of two bank heists, one professional and one very unprofessional. And finds himself attracted to a teller (played by Ashley Judd). This movie has a decent dose of problem solving (ooh! my favourite!) and a matching dose of comedy. One bank heist team is very professional (hence the Ocean's reference); the other ... not so... More like the comic relief. But the professional lot are being sorely tried, at first by the incompetent lot, and then by the pressures of decades of bank heists. Stereotypes go out the window.
Another aspect I relished was the concept of all those carefully laid plans going awry. The mastermind behind the whole thing (really trying to avoid spoilers here) had so much planned, like a chess player - but, in a bank robbery during business hours, you can't predict the actions or thoughts of the bank customers. And even if the mastermind had predicted or relied upon typical, or even slightly outside the square, reactions, having someone like Sherlock Holmes present shakes things up somewhat.
The movie had a few areas of predictability, but so many other maybes that the predictability is not so noticeable. It was like watching a long episode of a crime show. One that has comedy writers on deck. Aside from all the funny stuff, though, it does touch on what we do and why we do it (couldn't just leave you with no deep commentary here). Sometimes it's because we're drawn to it for whatever reason (like the explosions), or discover in ourselves an unusual, highly sought-after skill (like being cool under the pressure of blowing up a safe). Sometimes it's because we can trace a long lineage of similar selves (having seen this movie, that now gives me a giggle every time, and I won't spoil it). And sometimes we just know we can get away with it. And no, I won't spoil that one for you.
Showing posts with label relationship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relationship. Show all posts
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Saturday, 5 January 2013
Movie #30 - Muriel's Wedding
That's right - this was the first time I'd seen this movie. Incredible. I saw it on the shelves at some friends' place and they were as shocked as I that I hadn't seen it. They promptly loaned me this movie and season 2 of Downton Abbey. I totally forgot I'd borrowed it though, until having coffee with one of them and they reminded me. I watched it as soon as I could! That was actually about a month ago, now... This has been a surprisingly hard response to write - here are a few aspects I found important.
1. I like Australian movies. With all the movies I've watched in the last year (far more than normal), the Australian movies are the winners. They, like French movies (something I noticed this year), include the normal stuff, without being boring. Plus, the idioms, the idiosyncrasies of behaviour, the settings, even the light - all so familiar and normal. Okay, now for the movie.
2. Our perception of ourself is so influenced by what we hear from others. The dad in this is such an interesting character. He does everything for his kids, but then doesn't understand why they don't know how to do anything. He blames others for his lack of success, and it's only at the end, when Muriel has managed to get away for long enough to develop some self esteem and then tells him what to do, that he is forced to live in his life.
3. Weddings. Ah, weddings. I appreciate them - I earn money from them. I also recognise that some people can stay married to the same person until the end of their life, and that some people really believe that they will stay married to this person for the rest of their life. However, I also realise that some people want the day, regardless of the person they marry. These are the people that scare me. Really, what are they thinking??? There are so many other reasons to have a party and get dressed up, most of which don't involve legal commitments for the rest of your life. Yet people still get married, with the above reasons.
4. I admit, when I was growing up, I expected to get married in my early 20s - I had very few models that didn't involve this. Yet, there are so many other ways to live your life. And Muriel discovers this, eventually. Being a person who is of use is the best way to build your self esteem, and to find that there is so much more to life than being a half of a couple. I saw this represented wonderfully well a few years ago: think of your life as a grid, with things like family, friends, work, sport, creativity etc each with their own box. For men, when they are in a relationship, it's just another box. For women, The Relationship can take up a box that can swamp all the others, so anything that's not The Relationship is squished along the edges. But a happy person (or, if you prefer, a well-rounded, or emotionally stable, or sane, person) will have enough boxes that they cover all their physical and emotional and spiritual needs, and more evenly-sized boxes so that aspects of their life receive enough care and attention. Ignoring the non-relationship boxes is so dangerous for our Self. And the other part of this, in this movie, is finding friends who are 'on your own level'. So, friends who are actually nice people, and who 'get' you, and won't sleep with your new husband on your wedding day... You know, the little things.
1. I like Australian movies. With all the movies I've watched in the last year (far more than normal), the Australian movies are the winners. They, like French movies (something I noticed this year), include the normal stuff, without being boring. Plus, the idioms, the idiosyncrasies of behaviour, the settings, even the light - all so familiar and normal. Okay, now for the movie.
2. Our perception of ourself is so influenced by what we hear from others. The dad in this is such an interesting character. He does everything for his kids, but then doesn't understand why they don't know how to do anything. He blames others for his lack of success, and it's only at the end, when Muriel has managed to get away for long enough to develop some self esteem and then tells him what to do, that he is forced to live in his life.
3. Weddings. Ah, weddings. I appreciate them - I earn money from them. I also recognise that some people can stay married to the same person until the end of their life, and that some people really believe that they will stay married to this person for the rest of their life. However, I also realise that some people want the day, regardless of the person they marry. These are the people that scare me. Really, what are they thinking??? There are so many other reasons to have a party and get dressed up, most of which don't involve legal commitments for the rest of your life. Yet people still get married, with the above reasons.
4. I admit, when I was growing up, I expected to get married in my early 20s - I had very few models that didn't involve this. Yet, there are so many other ways to live your life. And Muriel discovers this, eventually. Being a person who is of use is the best way to build your self esteem, and to find that there is so much more to life than being a half of a couple. I saw this represented wonderfully well a few years ago: think of your life as a grid, with things like family, friends, work, sport, creativity etc each with their own box. For men, when they are in a relationship, it's just another box. For women, The Relationship can take up a box that can swamp all the others, so anything that's not The Relationship is squished along the edges. But a happy person (or, if you prefer, a well-rounded, or emotionally stable, or sane, person) will have enough boxes that they cover all their physical and emotional and spiritual needs, and more evenly-sized boxes so that aspects of their life receive enough care and attention. Ignoring the non-relationship boxes is so dangerous for our Self. And the other part of this, in this movie, is finding friends who are 'on your own level'. So, friends who are actually nice people, and who 'get' you, and won't sleep with your new husband on your wedding day... You know, the little things.
Monday, 29 October 2012
Movie #27 - Lantana
The last weekend of the holidays (sigh - so long ago now!) I watched 3 movies. Anything for Her; Greenberg; and Lantana. I really enjoyed Lantana, especially as the end of Greenberg has a character with an atrocious Australian accent (not an Australian, by the way). So to hear, then, familiar accents and idioms, and see country that I know - wonderful.
I think I need to explain some of my mood here. The morning of the day I watched it, I went to church. The collect was for married people, and the sermon was about married people and people in relationships. I have never felt before the way I did in church that day. To watch Lantana that evening, then, was fortuitous. All these people in relationships, trying to navigate the minefield of living your own life but being a good partner, compromise, responsibility, honesty, deception, secrets, trust, betrayal, passion and lack of it - it reminded me that there are just as many problems in relationships as there are without.
We're presented with all these relationships, each connected to another whether they know it or not. And this was before Facebook! It's tempting to judge each relationship on how well they're doing - I admit it, I judged. And so I landed a few surprises along the way. The 'best' couple - not perfect, but they are so open with each other, no secrets - they are certainly tested when the husband is accused of being involved with the disappearance of the psychiatrist. And tested when the newly divorced neighbour starts flirting with him. But the wife sticks by her husband ("in good times and in bad").
One couple - the shrink and her man - are slightly infuriating. So calm, so 'shrink-like' - like there's no passion, just mature adults. But still waters run deep, and the discovery that they lost their child not so long ago explains a lot. I still wanted to them to have a good screaming match and then make up, but that was not to be. Their house though - wow. If you haven't been to the Hawkesbury river, or up around Hornsby with all that lovely bushland, put it on your bucket list. I'm slightly biased as this area of Sydney is in my blood, but I still maintain it's beautiful.
Anthony LaPaglia's character... I can't help liking him. True, he's having an affair. As his police partner says to him, he's got a perfectly good marriage (something which still eludes her) and he's "pissing all over it". His mid-life crises have an element of humour as well as desperation. His lack of anger management is starting to be a problem but (from this vantage point) I see that more as a sign of depression than bad character. After all, we are all flawed. There are very few among us who behave impeccably all of the time, even if we try. Sometimes, you need to fall off the wagon a bit to help you be better again in the future. And having to investigate the shrink's disappearance - more, when I think of it, the husband's lack of passion towards her - reminds him, shows him, how much he loves his wife, how much he cares for her, and how easily she might leave him and how dreadful that might be.
I think that it's this Shakespearean element of flawed character that makes this movie so appealing. We are all flawed, no one has a perfect relationship unless they are in la-la land, and we are all connected whether we know it or not.
I think I need to explain some of my mood here. The morning of the day I watched it, I went to church. The collect was for married people, and the sermon was about married people and people in relationships. I have never felt before the way I did in church that day. To watch Lantana that evening, then, was fortuitous. All these people in relationships, trying to navigate the minefield of living your own life but being a good partner, compromise, responsibility, honesty, deception, secrets, trust, betrayal, passion and lack of it - it reminded me that there are just as many problems in relationships as there are without.
We're presented with all these relationships, each connected to another whether they know it or not. And this was before Facebook! It's tempting to judge each relationship on how well they're doing - I admit it, I judged. And so I landed a few surprises along the way. The 'best' couple - not perfect, but they are so open with each other, no secrets - they are certainly tested when the husband is accused of being involved with the disappearance of the psychiatrist. And tested when the newly divorced neighbour starts flirting with him. But the wife sticks by her husband ("in good times and in bad").
One couple - the shrink and her man - are slightly infuriating. So calm, so 'shrink-like' - like there's no passion, just mature adults. But still waters run deep, and the discovery that they lost their child not so long ago explains a lot. I still wanted to them to have a good screaming match and then make up, but that was not to be. Their house though - wow. If you haven't been to the Hawkesbury river, or up around Hornsby with all that lovely bushland, put it on your bucket list. I'm slightly biased as this area of Sydney is in my blood, but I still maintain it's beautiful.
Anthony LaPaglia's character... I can't help liking him. True, he's having an affair. As his police partner says to him, he's got a perfectly good marriage (something which still eludes her) and he's "pissing all over it". His mid-life crises have an element of humour as well as desperation. His lack of anger management is starting to be a problem but (from this vantage point) I see that more as a sign of depression than bad character. After all, we are all flawed. There are very few among us who behave impeccably all of the time, even if we try. Sometimes, you need to fall off the wagon a bit to help you be better again in the future. And having to investigate the shrink's disappearance - more, when I think of it, the husband's lack of passion towards her - reminds him, shows him, how much he loves his wife, how much he cares for her, and how easily she might leave him and how dreadful that might be.
I think that it's this Shakespearean element of flawed character that makes this movie so appealing. We are all flawed, no one has a perfect relationship unless they are in la-la land, and we are all connected whether we know it or not.
Friday, 6 July 2012
Movie #18 - Frida
I watched Frida last week, over 2 nights, and very much enjoyed it. It would have been very annoying for anyone watching this with me - I
take notes when watching movies now, and so a 2 hour movie can take substantially longer. It has taken a bit to digest Frida though, a process I suspect will continue for some time. Right now, it's still unfocused in my head so I'm hoping writing this will help it settle. I wonder if watching this movie is totally different for non-creative types? Well, it must be, as everyone sees things differently depending on their situation. It would be interesting to be someone else though to see this movie from a different perspective.
I like seeing things. I've noticed that if there is a lot of dialogue, I notice less visually. (Incidentally, I just watched the episode of NCIS which includes the line from my sub-heading; I've also been reading a Jasper Fforde book which includes descriptions of the RealWorld from a BookWorld perspective - the narrator is amazed at how much detail is in the backgrounds. I was on high alert for backgrounds while watching the show). While there was a lot to absorb aurally, the visuals were so well done in Frida. Which is a good thing for a movie about artists. The way in which Frida's artwork was incorporated into the movie was seamless and so clever, and the camera work - mwah. Actually, the first thing I noticed was the setting. One of my favourite authors is Isabel Allende, and the setting, particularly of the parents' house in Mexico City, was just like looking into my mental image of many of Allende's books.
There were four things about the messages in the movie that stood out for me. 1 - relationships. 2 - why we do art. 3 - life isn't perfect, it's how we live it that matters. 4 - you can achieve as much as you think you can achieve.
1. Seeing the way marriage is approached - from a Mexican, Communist, artistic, early 20th century viewpoint - was interesting. Especially for someone who is artistic, single, and who plays at weddings. Frequently. I know that relationships can work - my parents are still together after more than 4 decades, and I have other couples in my circle who look like they'll be together forever. But I'm single, and I have many couples in my circle who have not remained together forever. And, playing at weddings, you can get very cynical. Aside from the soppy vows and princess syndrome, if cracks are evident to outsiders on the wedding day, it doesn't bode well for a long and happy life together. Not to mention the statistical likelihood of divorce. There were a few lines in this movie that caused me to pause and write down the quote. The first was at Frida and Diego's wedding, from a Communist Party guest: "Marriage is, at worst, a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it is a happy delusion, these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how miserable they are about to make each other". In this current climate, it's probably not quite so much the first option - although it's not out of the question - and I would hope it's not really too much the latter. But I guess it depends on your choice of partner.
Frida entered into this marriage fully aware of her new husband's character. She knew he was a womaniser. Early on, she asked her father "What do you think is important for a good marriage?" "A short memory" is his reply. But, after one of many 'indiscretions', which happen too often to be slipped under the rug of a short memory, she says she cannot love him for what he is not. And, she loves him (sometimes, in that very passionate borderline love-hate way). Women, of course, see love and fidelity differently. We want to find a Leon Trotsky (maybe not with the affair-with-the-artist bit, but nobody's perfect), "someone who's willing to sacrifice a little of his own pleasure instead of hurting the woman who loves him". The fact that Diego comes back to her late in life and is true to the end made me cry, to be honest. How lovely - but how frustrating! Maybe creative men can only be true when they've had all their (extensive) running-around time. And what that means for me... it can be a little disheartening. But, moving on. I'm going to jump to numbers 3 and 4 here.
3. Even though Frida had a challenging life - a traumatic accident, a life of physical pain, a philandering husband, being an artist - she really lived. She really loved. (4) - She set her own goals, based on her own ideas for her life. Doctors telling her she would never walk again did not stop her from walking again. Society saying young women should marry and reproduce did not stop her dancing a tango with another woman (and more...), marrying late and not having any children (except for one who died at birth). She lived her life and endured much more than she thought she could. There were some things that seem to be universal, though. Infidelity hurts. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The kitchen is the best place to get to know someone, and cooking is a great way to bond, even if it's with your husband's ex-wife who is living upstairs and still cooking him breakfast. Our hopes and expectations are two different things: we can hope to marry someone who will be faithful, but if we expect it we will be disappointed.
2 - I could really identify with Frida's drive for art. My most productive practice sessions, and inspiring or passionate performances, all come from emotion. As someone who has a generally ordinary life, this can be a bit of a drag. But that need to turn to a creative outlet - a bit like the 'pensieve' that Dumbledore uses in Harry Potter - is such a huge part of life, a natural reaction. How do non-creative types deal with heartbreak??? And not just as a way to deal with what life throws at you. "If you're a real painter you'll paint because you can't live without painting, you'll paint til you die". Of course, this also comes with the existential angst with which I am well-acquainted - "My little paintings can't mean anything to anyone but me". On one level, there is little purpose in what we do - at least, in terms of furthering humanity (we're not curing cancer or anything) - but there is something to be said for creative expression which connects us and makes us feel.
Writing this has helped the digestive process, as hoped. Accept others for who they are, with all their blessings and faults; live your own life the best way you can; live as much as you can; do what you are driven to do and you will have lived your life well; happiness and fulfillment are not the same thing. And, perhaps, make sure you can cook.
Nearly forgot the photo for today:
Winter sunlight hitting the last pear and lemon in the bowl.
I like seeing things. I've noticed that if there is a lot of dialogue, I notice less visually. (Incidentally, I just watched the episode of NCIS which includes the line from my sub-heading; I've also been reading a Jasper Fforde book which includes descriptions of the RealWorld from a BookWorld perspective - the narrator is amazed at how much detail is in the backgrounds. I was on high alert for backgrounds while watching the show). While there was a lot to absorb aurally, the visuals were so well done in Frida. Which is a good thing for a movie about artists. The way in which Frida's artwork was incorporated into the movie was seamless and so clever, and the camera work - mwah. Actually, the first thing I noticed was the setting. One of my favourite authors is Isabel Allende, and the setting, particularly of the parents' house in Mexico City, was just like looking into my mental image of many of Allende's books.
There were four things about the messages in the movie that stood out for me. 1 - relationships. 2 - why we do art. 3 - life isn't perfect, it's how we live it that matters. 4 - you can achieve as much as you think you can achieve.
1. Seeing the way marriage is approached - from a Mexican, Communist, artistic, early 20th century viewpoint - was interesting. Especially for someone who is artistic, single, and who plays at weddings. Frequently. I know that relationships can work - my parents are still together after more than 4 decades, and I have other couples in my circle who look like they'll be together forever. But I'm single, and I have many couples in my circle who have not remained together forever. And, playing at weddings, you can get very cynical. Aside from the soppy vows and princess syndrome, if cracks are evident to outsiders on the wedding day, it doesn't bode well for a long and happy life together. Not to mention the statistical likelihood of divorce. There were a few lines in this movie that caused me to pause and write down the quote. The first was at Frida and Diego's wedding, from a Communist Party guest: "Marriage is, at worst, a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it is a happy delusion, these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how miserable they are about to make each other". In this current climate, it's probably not quite so much the first option - although it's not out of the question - and I would hope it's not really too much the latter. But I guess it depends on your choice of partner.
Frida entered into this marriage fully aware of her new husband's character. She knew he was a womaniser. Early on, she asked her father "What do you think is important for a good marriage?" "A short memory" is his reply. But, after one of many 'indiscretions', which happen too often to be slipped under the rug of a short memory, she says she cannot love him for what he is not. And, she loves him (sometimes, in that very passionate borderline love-hate way). Women, of course, see love and fidelity differently. We want to find a Leon Trotsky (maybe not with the affair-with-the-artist bit, but nobody's perfect), "someone who's willing to sacrifice a little of his own pleasure instead of hurting the woman who loves him". The fact that Diego comes back to her late in life and is true to the end made me cry, to be honest. How lovely - but how frustrating! Maybe creative men can only be true when they've had all their (extensive) running-around time. And what that means for me... it can be a little disheartening. But, moving on. I'm going to jump to numbers 3 and 4 here.
3. Even though Frida had a challenging life - a traumatic accident, a life of physical pain, a philandering husband, being an artist - she really lived. She really loved. (4) - She set her own goals, based on her own ideas for her life. Doctors telling her she would never walk again did not stop her from walking again. Society saying young women should marry and reproduce did not stop her dancing a tango with another woman (and more...), marrying late and not having any children (except for one who died at birth). She lived her life and endured much more than she thought she could. There were some things that seem to be universal, though. Infidelity hurts. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The kitchen is the best place to get to know someone, and cooking is a great way to bond, even if it's with your husband's ex-wife who is living upstairs and still cooking him breakfast. Our hopes and expectations are two different things: we can hope to marry someone who will be faithful, but if we expect it we will be disappointed.
2 - I could really identify with Frida's drive for art. My most productive practice sessions, and inspiring or passionate performances, all come from emotion. As someone who has a generally ordinary life, this can be a bit of a drag. But that need to turn to a creative outlet - a bit like the 'pensieve' that Dumbledore uses in Harry Potter - is such a huge part of life, a natural reaction. How do non-creative types deal with heartbreak??? And not just as a way to deal with what life throws at you. "If you're a real painter you'll paint because you can't live without painting, you'll paint til you die". Of course, this also comes with the existential angst with which I am well-acquainted - "My little paintings can't mean anything to anyone but me". On one level, there is little purpose in what we do - at least, in terms of furthering humanity (we're not curing cancer or anything) - but there is something to be said for creative expression which connects us and makes us feel.
Writing this has helped the digestive process, as hoped. Accept others for who they are, with all their blessings and faults; live your own life the best way you can; live as much as you can; do what you are driven to do and you will have lived your life well; happiness and fulfillment are not the same thing. And, perhaps, make sure you can cook.
Nearly forgot the photo for today:
Thursday, 26 January 2012
Movie #1
After watching Amelie on Tuesday, I got the movie bug. As the weather was still rainy, I didn't want to spend too long choosing something at Video Ezy. In a mood for art house, but hopefully not too serious, as soon as I spied Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind I picked it up. This is a movie I haven't seen but I think most people would assume that I had seen it.
Wednesday night, I watched it. I don't necessarily agree with the comment on the front cover - "A smart, sexy and seriously funny comedy!" (Peter Travers, Rolling Stone). There were parts that made me laugh, some cry, reflect, turn all nostalgic... But most of all, it made me think. A lot.
What would I choose to erase? Is there anything from certain relationships that I would want to keep? Curiously, I decided I didn't want to erase any of the more traumatic relationships, but what I think of as the best (in that, they were least damaging and psychologically screwy), I had no problem removing from my brain. After pondering this for a while, my subconscious went to work overnight. When I awoke, I realised the movie's subtle point: we can only learn from our mistakes if we can remember our mistakes. Which is why I didn't want to erase the bad stuff, and why I shouldn't want to erase the less traumatic relationships. Long ago I had realised that, although the bad stuff was uncomfortable and hurtful at the time, it's made me more understanding of others, and less judgmental. As for the less traumatic stuff - who wants to spend years repeating stupid mistakes? Not me.
Visually, I appreciated the starkness of the 'erased' bits - Montauk, the frozen lake, the train trip, the snow. The possibility that comes with the absence of busyness. It had me wanting to go to North America and take photos of white landscapes.
Wednesday night, I watched it. I don't necessarily agree with the comment on the front cover - "A smart, sexy and seriously funny comedy!" (Peter Travers, Rolling Stone). There were parts that made me laugh, some cry, reflect, turn all nostalgic... But most of all, it made me think. A lot.
What would I choose to erase? Is there anything from certain relationships that I would want to keep? Curiously, I decided I didn't want to erase any of the more traumatic relationships, but what I think of as the best (in that, they were least damaging and psychologically screwy), I had no problem removing from my brain. After pondering this for a while, my subconscious went to work overnight. When I awoke, I realised the movie's subtle point: we can only learn from our mistakes if we can remember our mistakes. Which is why I didn't want to erase the bad stuff, and why I shouldn't want to erase the less traumatic relationships. Long ago I had realised that, although the bad stuff was uncomfortable and hurtful at the time, it's made me more understanding of others, and less judgmental. As for the less traumatic stuff - who wants to spend years repeating stupid mistakes? Not me.
Visually, I appreciated the starkness of the 'erased' bits - Montauk, the frozen lake, the train trip, the snow. The possibility that comes with the absence of busyness. It had me wanting to go to North America and take photos of white landscapes.
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