Saturday, October 20, 2007

Reviews: Gone Baby Gone and Across the Universe



Gone Baby Gone**

Critics have been gaga over this movie. A few days ago Rotten Tomatoes showed 91% of critics on the positive side of the fence. What were they smoking? Are they just being kind to Ben Affleck, throwing him a bone for all their bad reviews of his acting? It's a good thing his wife can bring home the bacon because Ben can't direct or write that well. And the latter is shocking because Good Will Hunting was a fine piece of work. But perhaps Mr. Damon had more to do with that excellent script than Ben did. Matt was thanked in the this movie's credits. I wish he had given the script more than a once over.

What's the problem? A preposterous story, so convoluted it was laughable. Ludicrous twists and turns. Morgan Freeman did his usual best in a thankless role. My fellow Aquinite, Amy Madigan, was awesome as a bitter, barren, angry Irish woman (a deadly combination). She let every wrinkle show. I can't believe she's just two years younger than me. Do I look that old? I hope that was just makeup. Bottom line: the writing was poor, the editing sucked, and the direction was pitiful. Casey Affleck did a decent job in the lead, but there was something off about his character. He didn't quite fit in with the South Boston crowd.

Across the Universe****

I've been eager to see this movie ever since it came out and I finally convinced my friend Linda to go see it. Reviews were mediocre, but some critics, like Ebert, raved about it. I'm raving about it too. Finally, the sixth movie in 10 days is a good one. 33 Beatles songs weave in and out of the story set in '67-'68 I'd say. Caveat: Yes, I probably loved it because those were my college years, but it really was beautifully made. Some of the production numbers were mind blowing, especially the one in the Army Induction Office. Jim Sturgess and Evan Rachel Wood did all their own singing and their voices were excellent. Joe Cocker, Bono, Eddie Izzard, and Salma Hayak all made cameo singing appearances. Cocker was especially fun to watch singing "Come Together."

I was very impressed with the attention to detail in recreating the 60s: the clothing, yes, but all sorts of little touches like the antique washers and dryers in the landromat. I thought the shift from sexual innocence to sexual revolution was also well portrayed. At the beginning, in both the U.S. and England, the couples had very chaste relationships; this all changed once everyone got to New York and the counterculture scene there. The office of the Columbia campus revolutionaries looked like every such office I was ever in: lots of ego-driven, passionate guys talking to each other while all the girls stuffed envelopes.

The movie was directed by Julie Taymor who directed The Lion King on Broadway. Her creativity is in evidence everywhere. The songs fit the plot and the plot drips with visual and aural nods to the songs. One surprise: the lead lady's name is Lucy, so we expect to hear "Lucy in the Sky" somewhere, but we don't hear it until the credits. And, they didn't sing my favorite Beatles song, "In My Life," but I didn't mind.

Monday, October 15, 2007

That's Just the Way It Is


I'm through apologizing when I start a blog entry, apologizing because it has been such a long time since I wrote anything. That's just the way it is. Business as usual. Saw four movies over my "fall break," all of two days -- last Thursday and Friday. So, four days with the weekend. Here are my thumbnail reviews:

The Jane Austen Book Club **

Definitely a chick flick, but a good one to rent. Not one to spend money on and see on the big screen. Lots of Jane Austen talk. I thought it would bore my friend who wasn't familiar with all six novels, but she liked it just fine. One really good performance -- Emily Blount -- playing an American, a very neurotic one. Very convincing. Reminded me of someone I know.

Elizabeth: The Golden Age **1/2

Everyone else in the world seems to love this movie, and, yes, Cate Blanchett, does a wonderful job as Elizabeth. She is a powerful prince. The costumes are stunning; the special effects are effective; the music is, well, a bit overbearing. Clive Owen is a hottie as always, but seems a bit out of place in the movie. My problem: I didn't see a story here. Now, I know there's plenty of history, but not a story. The Raleigh/Liz thing seemed forced and just not there. Where is Errol Flynn when you need him? OK, I realize Errol played Essex against Bette's Liz and Vincent Price was Raleigh, but at least there were sparks with Errol. Geoffrey Rush as Walsingham didn't seem like the same guy from the last movie. I realize the character is a lot older, but he seems to have lost his pizazz. And here's my big problem (and I realize there are good arguments for why this shouldn't be a problem -- as in THIS IS A MOVIE, NOT HISTORY). Anyway, I didn't like the way the writers etc. played around with history. When Cate as Joan of Arc was trying to control that horse she was on before the battle, I thought she might launch into the "Once more into the breach" speech from Henry V. OK, I'll admit I don't know history that well, but would she have worn a suit of armor like that? And I can't believe she stood on some cliff in her nightgown and watched the Armada burn. I think that cliff was why the credits thanked "Ryan's Daughter" for footage borrowed. Bigger problem: Mary Stuart. First, supposedly she was devastatingly beautiful. Samantha Morton isn't unattractive, but she's no belle of the ball. Also, she spoke like a Scottish lass. Now really, didn't the woman spend her formative years in France speaking French? Wouldn't that have been her accent? As I said, I'm no historian, but there was something off about the movie.

Michael Clayton ***

Ah, George Clooney. Not tough to look at at all. Terrific acting in this movie. George did well and Tilda Swinton was a woman on the edge doing terrible things. I also love Sydney Pollack; his roles are always in a certain range, but he does them so well. Tom Wilkinson is his usual amazing self. It was all very well done, but I felt the movie plot was somewhat derivative. It reminded me of The Verdict, Silkwood, and The Insider to name a few. I would, however, recommend spending the $9.50 this one.

Eastern Promises ****

I admit that I really like Croenenberg's movies. History of Violence is up there with my all time favorites. And not just because of Viggo. I must admit, though that Viggo naked trumps George with clothes on any day. Incredibly graphically violent. I had to cover my eyes. Again, masterful acting. Viggo was stunning and in control of the screen whenever he was on it. Naomi Watts was excellent and it was good to see Sinead O'Connor, who should be in more widely distributed films. Armin Mueller-Stahl was disturbingly venal, unbelievably evil. His son, played by Vincent Cassel was a walking disaster -- he did it well. I did figure out what was really going on early in the film, but that didn't spoil the viewing experience at all. All in all, an amazing film -- much beyond the ordinary.

Saturday, October 06, 2007

They Didn't Deserve to Win

OK, the Cubs just lost their third straight game in the playoffs. It was embarrassing. About the sixth inning, I thought, "I really don't want them to win. They don't deserve it." Wait until next year? 99 years and counting.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Nuns 'n Such


















I just noticed how long it's been since I blogged. Seminary work has gotten the better of me in the last couple of weeks. As usual, I'm trying to read everything, compulsive as ever. The best part of last week included our Preaching class (a class in which, oddly enough, we will not preach). Well, that's not exactly fair. The title is Christian Communication and our professor intends it to be preparatory to next semester's TRUE preaching course. So, we had a 13th century Eucharist, a mass that was so far away from what we do now that I thought I was back at Our Lady Gate of Heaven in 1955. It wasn't that different from the good old Tridentine Mass. The priest and deacon/altar boy were on the altar, but only the Lord and Lady of the manor and the local, attached anchoress (me) paid attention to what was going on. (A word about anchoresses. They and the anchorites (males) withdrew from ordinary life in the middle ages and spent their time praying. They weren't hermits who went off into the desert. They usually lived in cells attached to churches from which they could view the altar, counsel people, get their meals, and pray a lot. Some were gifted gossips. I decided I'd be one of those although no one gave me the opportunity to gossip.) The rest of the class did what the people of the middle ages did in church: they milled around, talked to one another, took a tour of the stained glass windows, and generally ignored what was going on up on the altar. On cue, they paid attention when the Sanctus bells rang.

The Mass transported me to my childhood and my first worship experiences. I’d forgotten how pre-Vatican II services emphasized the interchange between priest and servers, how any other person present was irrelevant. I’ve come to expect modern Eucharists to begin with a priest announcing his or her presence and to offer cues for my participation. There was none of that on Thursday. In the gloom, with no clear beginning, I suddenly realized that the priest was saying the Confiteor, sotto voce. I couldn’t even hear him finish, but the server began the response, so that became my signal to begin.

I felt like a spectator watching a play, albeit one in which I participated a bit. The Latin of the Ordinary of the Mass and its meaning were familiar to me, and I was able to recognize enough Latin in the Gospel to know that the priest was reading about the “lilies of the field,” but, even then, I felt distanced from the experience. When I was a child, this type of service was all I knew, so it was normal and appropriate. Now, I experience it differently. The priest reading the biblical texts in Latin while facing the altar seemed especially exclusionary. All of us, even the lord and his lady, were separated from the sphere of influence of the priest. He controlled the space around the altar; none of us would have dared approach him. Wouldn't go back to that for all the artwork in the Vatican.

Speaking of nuns, the two I've attached represent the orders that ran my elementary school (Sisters of St. Joseph-on the left, black habit) and high school (Adrian Dominicans - on the right, white habit).