Saturday, December 27, 2008

The Curious of Case of Life & the Movie Star













Beholding Brad Pitt in various states of undress alone is a sight to behold, but to behold Mr. Pitt twinkle with ache and humanity in crescendoing stages of CGI-assisted gorgeousness and decay illuminates the sheer sway of movie magic and movie stars.  Except for his cliche star vehicles that dominated his filmography (Troy, Spy Games, Meet Joe Black) in the Aniston era, one has to give credit to Pitt's fan boy approach to choosing his most notable roles after turning A-lister. It is in his wonkiest, kookiest and scruffiest do we detect a depth or an aspiration for it, in those geneticist-confounding good looks. 


There could not be better examples than his jaunts with David Fincher. In Se7en, we first get to glimpse an indulgent hotshot, runt-like (in contrast to Morgan Freeman) and uncouth ("Marquis de Sha-arday") with mock-worthy intonation ("What's in the baa-aahx!?"). There's soap-making, unhygienic and ripped Tyler Durden in Fight Club. Lofty and subversive often he aims yet, he still has been just window dressing to more sublime thespians like Freeman and Norton.



















In their third collaboration, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, gone are the 90's pretty boy dark, dank nihilistic status symbols. In its stead is seamless edge and languid cool--the quintessential showcase of Pitt-- the son, father of six, idealist, other half, citizen of the world, all-American boy and yes, accomplished actor. Perhaps it's the effect of his flawless Babel co-star, Cate Blanchett or, just age itself. The package is the same but the wine is of vintage age. For now instead of image and swagger, we have restraint and a (gasp!) resignation to the fates of storytelling and character. In doing so, the world's biggest moviestar may have just become one of us.

 
There may be Oscar buzz and some mixed reviews in the ether but for movie lovers, this is a popcorn epic that brings people together into cinemas in the grand tradition of movies-- a suspension of disbelief, transportation from the mundane, and reaffirmation of box of chocolates, kings of the world, angels getting their wings and yes, life is beautiful.

This movie has all the stuffings & fixings of an  Academy contender: technology, music, dance, poignancy, a love story, glossy sex, Americana and even comedic strikes of lightning. The story is a signature Eric Roth (Forrest Gump) ouevre tempered by Fincher's Andersen's fairy tale-like strokes.




In a somber time in my life in this most trying of seasons, watching this movie conjures memories of loved ones and generations that have lived, died, crossed paths and took care of each other through it all just because. Watch this with a room full of people wether with someone you know or random strangers. As you tear-up or chortle in unison inside the darkened cinema, you find that people share a common thread so much more than you think. Even with Brad Pitt.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Charlie Brown Christmas II



Thank you so much Mr. Charles Schulz. 

Monday, December 22, 2008

A Charlie Brown Christmas

To simpler times and the enduring wisdom of Peanuts...

Friday, December 19, 2008

A Dose of Paul Rudd

Finally, a viral clip of the SNL skit from last November that hasn't been swallowed into NBC's corporate copyrighting vortex-- never to be seen in it's original state except in regurgitated YouTube tribute videos--pure and warm like dance biscuits. Features the yumminess that is Paul Rudd, Sasha Fierce and some interesting uses of leotards. Harkens me back to my Saturday ballet/jazz/hula lessons except instead of high heels (or in this case, Stride Rites) I wore these shaolin/mary jane/chinese shoes and had a bowl haircut. Nothing like a good laugh on nasty days like these.

   

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

"Happy Birthday, Samantha. Make a Wish."

or The Tao of Long Duk Dong and Other Wisdoms for the Ages From the 80's
"You know a girl in a hat is just so...vogue."--Farmer Ted
Eureka, HDTV! For reasons beyond my brain cells, my cable unit can finally grant my humble Sylvanna flatscreen/DVD combo to beam in pop culture images--rendered sharp, shimmery as a fond memory, courtesy of all-American hi-def mania-- into my confined hideaway in Suburbia. The landmark paean to teenage nadirs and nirvanas, seemed less dated and vintage and more like an ad tribute to John Hughes styled by American Apparel and Urban Outfitters. It also illuminated the fact that at least four or five of my grade school attires from '84 to'86 are different versions of  Molly Ringwald's outfit in the opening scenes. The hat came later.

"Why do you think you're a dork? I don't think you're a dork. I don't think Mom thinks you're a dork. "
"Mike thinks I'm a dork."
" Mike is a dork."  
"So am I."
 --Jim and Samantha Baker

"That's why they call them crushes. If they were easy, they'd call them something else."-- Jim Baker.
The dorks-and-crushes scene is every heart-to-heart father-daughter talk I've ever shared with my own Dad, down to the sleeveless undershirt and the pajamas and the sofa and the assurance of personal happiness only a father can conjure.

"I do independent study with her. I catch her lookin' at me a lot. It's kinda cool, the way she's always lookin' at me. "
"Maybe she's retarded." -- Jake Ryan and jock friend.
Question 1.  After 1984 and exponentially through the early to mid-90's, why is it that every teenage dream object of lust for the every-girl looks like this?
(Of course, until Jordan Catalano came along and started leaning on things and haunted the school hallways of our redhead psyches did we have an alternative but, that is another Zeitgeist and a whole other blog post... or website.) As one aptly titled essay succintly breaks down:
Question 2. Why do above-mentioned teenage dream objects of lust always own a pair of topsiders?

"I can't believe I gave my panties to a geek." --Samantha.
For the past three years or so, before my friend Shivaun, before my parents, before my sisters, my BFF since birth, and whatever number of friends I have, way before I have no choice but to remember, without fail, the first entity to wish me Happy Birthday is... Victoria's Secret. And it always comes with an offer to get a free panty.

"Would you stop feeling sorry for yourself? It's bad for your complexion."--Randy to Samantha.
How many best friends in my life, including my mother, have said this to me in one way or another. And most times, in all grateful angst, I  reply, 

"It's really human of you to listen to all my bullshit."-- Samantha to Farmer Ted.

Then, there is the immortal utterance from Samantha that still echoes,
"Donger's here for five hours, and he's got somebody. I live here my whole life, and I'm like a disease."

Oh well, like she said to Farmer Ted,
"Well that’s pretty cool. Hey, but a lot can happen over a year. I mean, you could come back next fall as a completely normal person."

A girl can always hope, sixteen and twice over and more. 

BTW, the opener of this YouTube tribute brings back memories of my eldest sister dancing on top of somebody's tomb (pan-tyon) in my Dad's hometown a day before All Saint's Day

And in closing (and I could be paraphrasing),
"No more Yankee my wanky. Donger need food!"

SHOOED!!

Uhm, perhaps the phrase, "May the fleas of a thousand camels invade your armpits!" did not suffice?


Embedded video from CNN Video.

What do you think Carrie Bradshaw would have done?



Huhh?! WTF?