Wallace and Gromit: Full Length Film - I will have to see this movie. Wallace and Gromit are my heroes.
“There are lots of these little guys in “Curse of the Were-Rabbit” — they’re a design motif as well as being characters in their own right. And perhaps the loveliest thing about seeing them, and every other character here, on the big screen is the way their smooth Plasticine surfaces often show the visible fingerprints of the people who have touched them.”
We described it was a “poor man’s ‘Office Space’” or “an indie ‘Office Space’” and frankly I liked the movie. Also, I guess yellow Post-It notes equal an office, because that visual cue is used on both DVD covers of these two movies. Anyhow, I think Haiku Tunnel had a little more meaning to it and fewer pieces dumbed down humor than Office Space. It’s got some hard-to-pinpoint rough edges that always seem to show up in Sundance films (and are more obvious in the comedies, for some reason), but none were too distracting.
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This text will be here until I review the movie “Flight Plan.”
Woo!
UPDATE: Time to review the movie. Mykala and I caught this one at the “ghetto” Forest Lake movie theather. Given its rather dilapidated state, it had comfortable seating and decent sound - it’s no UltraScreen (at which I still have to see a movie, and at which, coincidentally, Flight Plan is currently playing), but it was certainly acceptable.
This past Friday night, I was scared by this movie. Based on a true story. I have yet to investigate the extent to which this movie is true, but as this exorcism was recognized by the Catholic church as real … it does make you wonder. One more quick note: it may been declared “real” to help the priests involved (who, ultimately, were judged guilty). Hard to say. Regardless: this movie was not a jumpy horror movie in the traditional sense, with one important exception. It has the single-most spine tingling special horror effect you will witness for some time. Warning, spoiler (skip to the end of this paragraph to avoid): Emily, pursued by the devil, makes eye contact with people around her, and without any warning at all, their faces begin melting off, like the worst mascara-in-the-rain you’ve ever scene. Except the eyes come with it. And a demonic face emerges. Fun.
Whether I realize it or not, I have become accostomed to a certain pace of movies. That is, the viewer sees the main thrust of the story within x minutes. Naturally, I do not know when x is, but I know when a movie stretches out that time, as The Constant Gardener did. The movie is a hybrid love-story and espionage story (love stories mixed with things have been popping up lately, given my recent review of Jacket …), and it’s also one that you may not like right away. Characters put you off, mislead you, seem to be much more or much less than they are. The distinction of good and evil on the character level is very blurry, making you second-guess everyone’s words and actions. However, the more global good/evil battle in the movie is a very clear one, and gives the movie a good framework on which to hang these characters’ stories.
Very artsy movie. Not horror-film esque really … there were horrible parts, but no jumpy scenes, and none of this ‘opening a door and getting attacked by something’ that I hate so much. Quick diversion from this movie: I can’t stand when I know the horror formula, but it still scares me. Sure, there’s going to be something in the next room, sure the slow walking and rising soundtrack strings indicate something bad approaching, but it still scares the heck out of me - I hate that. Anyway: this movie was not like that.
I tend to find the best things about movies and talk about those, so do be aware that unless a movie is completely terrible, my review will probably not be that harsh. This is part of the reason that I do not aspire to be a movie reviewer for a living. That said, Under the Tuscan Sun would review well even by someone who was looking for flaws.
This movie was so dirty. Holy man. I know I would have been squirming constantly if I had seen it near anybody 5 or more years older than myself. Or younger. Given that, it was relentlessly funny. The only issue with the humor was going into it expecting so much. I mean, this is Brick, in a starring role. It was one of those “i’m laughing but it might just be because I want to think this is funny things” at the beginning of the movie. Then, I stopped thinking of my expectations and just laughed.
This movie received very average reviews. It is, however, sincere in its message, if a little heavy-handed in the delivery thereof. The message(s)? “People are more important than things.” “Life isn’t worth living if you are not doing what you love.” “True love is giving of yourself.” Do these sound like platitudes? To the jaded viewer, they almost certainly will. To me, at this confusing time in my life (anybody in college know exactly what they are doing? anybody? there you go …), these messages are refreshing and bear repeating.
Over a month after seeing this movie, I finally get time to review the thing. Whew. It was playing only at one theater in the entire Twin Cities area: Uptown Theatre in Minneapolis. While the price was the same as big-box theaters (8 bucks per ticket), the ambience was completely different. The seats were harder, the air a little damp, and you could watch from the balcony. None of this detracted from the movie, in fact it made seeing an ‘indie’ film seem … more indie. The audience seemed a bit less numb to the movie, too: people actually laughed at the funny parts (though this movie isn’t even a comedy).
Best Bad Movie Review - “Schneider was nominated for a 2000 Razzie Award for Worst Supporting Actor, but lost to Jar-Jar Binks.”
Some of you would prefer incremental updates to these large ones (cough Nils, cough) and that’s completely OK, but that just does not seem to be happening right now. I’ve been away from my main computer for about 10 days now, which means I had to sync up a bunch of phone pictures and other householdy type things in order to get up to speed again. There are many journal-like life things to mention, though, right now. I will proceed with your permission.
Friday saw me seeing my first Ballet (The Nutcracker, which is a good first, I think). The overall experience tended more towards vignettes than I would have originally thought, but I think this worked very well. Miss K(B)J Lind (I just invented that name code) performed flawlessly: I think dancing with the Moscow Ballet would be an incredible experience. In an analagous situation (me playing in an internationally known orchestra), I would have fainted.
My sister Katy was waiting to catch the campus connector yesterday, wearing her red purse and red backpack, when she was approached by an elderly women. “We both have red purses” the women commented, quite out of the blue. Rather nonplussed, Katy replied, “Why yes, we do - great minds think alike!” The woman thought for a moment and replied, “Well, I was thinking that I never had a red purse until I was old.” Some random old people give the rest a bad name.
When it comes to my hair, less is more. The complications in maintenance that arise as a result of this mantra are numerous. For one, my bank account does not work the same way. More is, in fact, more, there. Therefore, haircuts have a negative effect on it. Oh, and less hair means your head is cold in cold weather. Even if you let the hair on your head grow out, it is still expensive. Take your face: electric shaving is cheaper than blade style, but you lose self-respect when you go electric. Who knows.
Well. I might as well list the media I am consuming/will consume in the future, the recent things I have bought, and things I have given lately. I am currently listening to “Glasgow Love Theme” from the movie Love Actually. It’s making me rather sad, but it is on repeat for a reason I can not really articulate. And by “can’t” I mean I am both unable and unwilling to delve that deeply into my head. I’d rather return to reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Alternatively, I would like to watch a movie and cry over it. Or simply cry. You know? I think you do.
Ummmmmmmmmmmm. Umm. Ummm! Ummm? Ummmmmm. Hum. Erm. Barrrrgh. Edet. Deeee bop. Burrrrr? These are the sounds of me debating whether to start a hidden version of this site, one where I share everything that is on my mind in a completely straightforward no-nonsense manner. In reality, it would not be that hard, I would take the current “life” posts and any future ones, and password-protect their viewing. Any hard-core hackers who really did want my personal logs could probably force their way in, and that wouldn’t particularly bother me; I wouldn’t post social security numbers or my current location via GPS coordinates. But really, Erin made a great argument for journals: they help you clarify your thoughts and realize what you are really thinking. Thing is, the front page of this site really used to be traffic-free: no one visited. Now, traffic has certainly increased, but it’s more that people I know visit. One possible option could be to wait for the people I know to get bored with visiting and then I could resume personal details. However, I do feel I could be more honest about my life if I knew that everything I said would not escape the confines of the digital realm.
HARRY: Would you like to have dinner? … Just friends.
SALLY: I thought you didn’t believe men and women could be friends.
HARRY: When did I say that?
SALLY: On the ride to New York.
HARRY: No, no, no, I never said that.
(pauses and thinks) Yes, that’s right, they can’t be friends. Unless both of them are involved with other people, then they can - this is an amendment to the earlier rule. If the two people are in relationships, the pressure of possible involvement is lifted. (another pause) No, that doesn’t work either, because what happens then is, the person you’re involved with can’t understand why you need to be friends with the person you’re just friends with. Like it means something is missing from the relationship and why do you have to go outside to get it? And when you say “No, no, no it’s not true, nothing is missing from the relationship,” the person you’re involved with then accuses you of being secretly attracted to the person you’re just friends with, which you probably are. I mean, come on, who the hell are we kidding, let’s face it. Which brings us back to the earlier rule before the amendment, which is men and women can’t be friends.