Thank you, Cubs

The Cubs rest high on my gratitude list today -- and especially this marvelous guy pictured here: Aramis Ramirez. I belong to a family in which the members practice different religions -- Cubsfanaticism and Soxfanaticism. Needless to say, animosities abound. What a fine weekend this has been! The gloat factor is stratospheric. My, my, my. I do love baseball. If you are a Cub fan, make sure you join Westside Rooters Social Club. (http://www.westsiderooters.com/). And, when they ask you who urged you to join, enter donnarnold@rocketmail.com. Thank you for your support.

Review: The Visitor

The Visitor ***1/2

Nonna's Rating: $$$

Rotten Tomatoes: 92%

The Visitor has been playing in Evanston for the past two months. I thought it would never come to the Western Burbs, but this week it finally did. It was worth the wait.

The film tells the story of a Connecticut college professor of Economics who clearly is just going through the motions. His syllabi never change from class to class; his sparsely attended lectures are dreary and tired; his latest collaborative paper was actually researched and written by a younger colleague seeking tenure. He attends an academic conference in New York where he has an apartment. He enters his apartment and discovers that a young couple, illegal immigrants, are living there. The man is from Syria; the woman is from Senegal. They rented the apartment in good faith and are more than willing to leave when they discover they have been scammed.

Walter watches them as they leave, walking the street with their baggage. And there the story really begins. He decides to allow them to stay in his apartment. I don't want to reveal anything else about the plot; suffice it to say that there is no pat happy ending. The professor, however, played by Richard Jenkins (the father on Six Feet Under), is transformed, renewed, and revitalized by the end of the film. The change that occurs opens him to the world and to the other human beings who populate it.

The film does an excellent job portraying the plight of hardworking illegal aliens, desperate to stay in this country, but it is Jenkins' performance that makes the film worth watching. His acting is subtle and nuanced. We understand a great deal about him, his life, and his relationship with his deceased wife, but little of this understanding comes to us through dialogue.

Nonna's Ratings:
$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price
$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price
$ = Worth a rental
$ = Wait for cable
# = Skip it

Review: Sex and the City

Sex and the City: ***
Nonna Rating: $$$
Rotten Tomatoes: 53%

This review is simple. If you are a fan of the show, male or female, see the movie. You'll love it. If you're female and not an avid watcher of the series, but you're not a hater of the series, see the movie. If you're male and have no relationship of any kind with the series, DO NOT SEE THE MOVIE. Do not even accompany your significant other who is a fan out of love and selflessness. You will not like the film and you will slip and say SOMETHING that just ticks her off. I guarantee. Better to avoid this film than do anything that interferes with the pleasure of a woman who is out to see what is, in essence, five episodes of the most girly TV show in history back to back.

What can I say? It's fun. I'd love to talk about my favorite scenes, but I'd spoil them for all of you who are planning to see the movie. See it with girlfriends. Go out for cosmos afterwards. Celebrate sisterhood!

Nonna Rating System:
$$$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price
$$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price
$$ = Worth a rental
$ = Wait for cable
# = Skip it

Four Movies to Consider -- At Least

Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian: **1/2
Nonna Rating:$$$
Rotten Tomatoes: 65%

Max, my 10-year-old grandson, loved this movie. For that reason alone, I say "Pay for a matinee and take a kid with you." The film differs from the first one, and, I confess, I liked it better in many ways -- perhaps because, although I've read Prince Caspian, I don't remember much about it, but I did remember The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe very well and had some very specific expectations of that movie. I remembered nothing about Prince Caspian, and so was continually surprised by the storyline. Caspian is much more of an action film -- filled with battle scenes and fewer charming, loquacious animals. It is set hundreds of years in the future, long past the time of the Snow Queen's rule in Narnia. The children all turn in excellent performances and Lucy (Georgie Henley pictured above) is as charming as ever. Anna Popplewell, who plays Susan, actively participates in the final battle and seems to be channeling Legolas from Lord of the Rings with her bow and arrow. Ben Barnes, who plays Caspian, is guaranteed to make many adolescent hearts flutter. I agree with quite a few of the critics who have predicted this will be a breakthrough movie for him and possibly lead to many other meaty roles. Caspian is definitely a movie to be seen on the big screen with its very big special effects.

And, oh yes, Liam Neeson as the voice of Aslan is terrific, but I always feel odd about reviewing Aslan's character. It's like critiquing Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Just not done.

Persepolis: ***

Nonna Rating:$$$
Rotten Tomatoes: 95%

Every once in a while a movie appears that pushes the boundaries of what we've come to expect from the medium. Persepolis is one of those films. It's a cartoon. In black and white. It tells the story of a young Iranian girl, Marji, who grows up under the repressive regime of the Shah. The Shah is overthrown and everyone around Marji rejoices, envisioning freedom and a new Iran. Instead, soon enough, they discover the new government of religious fundamentalists is even more repressive than the government of the Shah. All this history is interpreted through Marji's innocent, intelligent eyes. Seeing this history through a child's perspective makes it even more ominous and horrifying. But Marji is exactly the opposite of the stereotyped submissive Muslim woman. She is outspoken and ready to fight for her rights. This frightens her parents; they send her to school in Europe where she will be safe. But Western society is no haven for Marji. She doesn't fit there and she doesn't fit in Iran either. Much of the film chronicles her turbulent adolescence and confused coming of age. She marries, is unhappy, and returns to Iran. But neither Europe nor Iran is this a solution to her confusion and angst. She leaves Iran again, a stronger young woman who knows herself and accepts that she must live day by day in ambiguity.

(Note: Anyone else reminded of the Madeleine books and Miss Clavell when you look at the picture above?)

Chicago 10: **1/2

Nonna Rating:$$
Rotten Tomatoes:

In the summer of 1968, I was paying a lot of attention to my newborn son, Peter. My campus activist days were on hold. I was a house-bound nursing mother in Omaha. Before Pete was born, I had worked on the Eugene McCarthy campaign in Omaha. In our office, there was a picture of Robert Kennedy on a dart board. As far as we were concerned, he was a part of THE PROBLEM. Gene was clean. On June 6 the picture came down. Pete was only 10 days old, so I didn't see it happen. I just heard about it.

Even though I had not been a Kennedy supporter, his death and that of Martin Luther King just two months before were emotionally devastating. My wasbund and I followed the news from Chicago about the coming convention. The park filled with demonstrators. Friends became more rabid about "bringing on the revolution" by the minute. We all knew there would be a confrontation in Chicago before or during the convention. It was inevitable. We didn't own a TV, so we rented one for the convention. What I will never forget was holding Pete in my arms, crying, and watching The Today Show the morning after THE riot. They were showing film of the night before, sometimes in slow motion. Over it, they were playing Frank Sinatra singing "My Kind of Town."

Chicago 10 chronicles the trial of those accused of conspiracy to start a riot. There were 8 "conspirators" and two lawyers included in the 10. The trial was, with no exaggeration, a circus. The judge, Julius Hoffman, was as much a buffoon as Abie Hoffman (no relation) was. Each day brought on more outlandish behavior and as many four letter words as possible. For the documentary, the filmmaker, Brett Morgen, uses archival footage, dramatization, and cartoons to tell the story. Interestingly, he chose to use music popular now rather than the golden oldies of the Sixties. This has an interesting effect. The older music would have placed the film firmly in the revolutionary context of the sixties without the perspective of "what we know now." The newer music serves as an ironic commentary and keeps forcing us to face how different these two worlds are. It's a fascinating film. It's not a great film but it deserves viewing -- if only for it's creative use of media in its storytelling.

There Will Be Blood:***

Nonna Rating:$$$
Rotten Tomatoes: 91%

Warning: I am a huge fan of Daniel Day-Lewis. (Long ago, I was actually a fan of his father, Cecil Day-Lewis, once the poet laureate of Great Britain.) I am also a big fan of the film's director, Paul Thomas Anderson, who directed what I still think is one of the great unrecognized films of the 20th century, Magnolia.

Blood is well-written and beautifully directed. The cinematography of the American southwest is expansive and gloriously shot. The supporting actors in the film make significant contributions to its overall excellence. Paul Dano is especially disturbing, prophetic, and magnetic. But, there is really only one good reason to see this film: the performance of Day-Lewis. The first word that comes to mind is complex. Many things, like his character's motivation, are left unexplained in the movie. Day-Lewis' performance complements this ambiguity in the writing perfectly. He truly deserved his best actor Oscar, his Golden Globe, and his other awards.

Nonna Rating System:

$$$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price

$$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price

$$ = Worth a rental

$ = Wait for cable

# = Skip it

Three Movies To Avoid

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street: *
Nonna Rating: #
Rotten Tomatoes: 86%

I saw Sweeney Todd at Lyric Opera and hated it. But I went to movie with a relatively open mind, expecting that it might tranlate better to the screen. After all, Rotten Tomatoes' reviewers were approving at a rate of 86%. Well, they were wrong. It's still a dark story about truly despicable human beings. There's no smidgen of hope or redemption. The cartoonish stage violence of the opera gives way to graphically violent murders in the movie, each one more nauseating than the other. (Here, I must confess that, as a matter of policy, I do not attend slasher or horror films. I just don't get why some people find them enjoyable.) Finally, even Sondheim's music does not redeem the film. Only one song, "A Little Priest, is memorable at all.

Here is a film with a marvelous cast: the always fascinating Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Alan Rickman, and Sacha Baron Cohen -- and they do their best, but it's not enough.

Whenever I pan a film, I try to recommend another which is thematically similar. In this case, that's pretty tough. There's nothing quite like this movie unless we turn to much less violent films based on Dickens' novels. If you're looking for a violent film that is worth watching, try Eastern Promises.



Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day: *
Nonna Rating: $
Rotten Tomatoes: 76%

Another film with a great cast that, in my estimation, falls far short of the rating it received on Rotten Tomatoes (76%). So, a 1920s English drawing room farce starring two American actresses: Frances McDormand (with an accent) and Amy Adams (playing an American). English farce depends entirely on excellent actors (at least we have that here), impeccable timing (completely absent), and brilliant physical comedy (also absent). English farce should be nothing short of delightful. We should have smiles on our faces during most of the action. When it really works, the upper classes get a satiriacal treatment that's deeply satisfying. So skip this one or watch it on cable. If, after ten minutes, you're feeling sleepy or bored, bail.

Instead, rent Season 1 of Jeeves and Wooster, the brilliant BBC/Granada adaptation of P.G. Wodehouse's novels starring the inimitable Stephen Fry as the archetypcal British butler Jeeves and Hugh Laurie (yes, Hugh Laurie of House , who is definitely very English) as the ultimate English twit, Bertie Wooster. Watch one episode. You'll be hooked and watch all twenty-three.

Leatherheads: *1/2

Nonna Rating: $

Rotten Tomatoes: 53%

Maybe doing movies about the 1920s is the problem. Here's another film that doesn't make the grade. About half the critics were right on this one. Another movie with big stars, a disappointing script, and lackluster acting. I had high hopes for this would at least be a pleasant diversion. After all, George is in it. The problem is that Clooney seems to sleepwalk through the film. And then there's Renee Zellweger who is fast becoming a perpetually annoying actress with her squinched up face (If you've ever seen Tracy Ullmann imitate her, you know what I mean). John Krasinwski is his charming self, but it's a one note performance that certainly can't sustain the movie. The film seems to aspire to the screwball comedy of Howard Hawkes. It doesn't come close.

So, rent His Gal Friday, one of Hawkes most brilliant films. Hawkes direction, Ben Hecht's play, and the suberb acting of Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant combine to make this one of the best comedies ever filmed. And if you acquire a taste for screwball comedy, rent I Was a Male War Bride, It Happened One Night, Bringing Up Baby, Holliday, Some Like It Hot, The Lady Eve, My Man Friday, The Awful Truth, Philadelphia Story, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, To Be or Not to Be, and Arsenic and Old Lace.

Nonna Rating System:
$$$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price
$$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price
$$ = Worth a rental
$ = Wait for cable
# = Skip it

Review: Young at Heart

Young@Heart ****
Nonna Rating: $$$

My friends Elizabeth Molitors and Jerry Hinck (independently -- they don't know each other) insist that I've never seen a movie I didn't like. Not true! In fact, I have seven backlogged movies to review in the next few days and several of them were just plain awful.

In my defense, I tend to see movies that have been well-reviewed, so as not to waste time or money at clunkers. I use the Rotten Tomatoes website, which collects reviews from everywhere, so, often there are as many as 100 opinions posted on a film. The neat thing is that the site computes the proportion of positive reviews for each movie. Generally, I've found that movies with a 75% or higher are worth seeing -- there have been exceptions, however. Anyway, the site serves as a good guide. (Yes, there have been a few movies with lower ratings that I have liked. What can I say?)

So here's my review of Young@Heart, which received a whopping 87% on Rotten Tomatoes.

As my friend Linda McCarthy said yesterday after seeing the film with me, "There are a lot of life lessons in this movie." So true, but it's not preachy or sentimental or cloying: it just focuses relentlessly on life with all its joy, humor, and sadness. The film highlights an aging singing group (average age 80) based in Northhampton, MA. They could choose to sing the great romantic ballads of the 40s, but instead they belt out songs by Coldplay, The Clash, Sonic Youth, The Rolling Stones, and Talking Heads to name a few.

The film follows the group as they prepare for a concert in their hometown -- before they take off on another tour of Europe. Along the way, they perform a free concert for the local prison. That segment alone provides reason enough to see the film. The expressions on the faces of the prisoners attest to the power of music to heal and to the joy that it generates.

The film, however, does not portray old age as "cute." Many of the group are dealing with serious medical problems. But these senior citizens are not going gentle into that good night. Their energy and commitment model how to grow old and why it behooves us all to respect and care for the elderly who have much to teach us.

Nonna Rating System:
$$$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price
$$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price
$$ = Worth a rental
$ = Wait for cable
# = Skip it

Alleluia

Easter has come and gone. I feel as if I went into the tomb during the triduum and am just now emerging. And now it's ordinary time. Time for tears. I've been damming up my sorrow for too long.

Yesterday heralded the 150th commencement for Seabury. Andrew Shirota and Karen King orchestrated an excellent service at St. Luke's in Evanston. We all talked on the garth and ate a light lunch. Well, we didn't all talk. I just listened and smiled and posed for pictures. I was sad.

I went back to my apartment and began to pack my car. Three times I found myself sitting in a chair staring at the walls. Sadness. It took me three and a half hours to pack my car. I think it should have taken one and a half at the most. People had gathered in the yard behind our building to talk and drink and eat some more. I didn't want to be there; I just wanted to go home. I began to wonder if I might be suffering from a clinical depression.

Today, I don't think so. I'm just sad. Really sad. In the past two months I've been very conscious of putting off grieving for my Dad. Whenever I became sorrowful, I'd allow myself five minutes of wailing and then I got back to work. The result: I managed to get through the semester and finish on time, but I'm sad. Now, I have a whole month ahead of me with absolutely nothing planned. I intend to loaf, read, nap, watch soaps, and be sad whenever I need to be. I expect I will be so bored with this behavior by the end of the month, I will more than ready to plunge into an active June.

And then there's the sadness of Seabury. Yesterday at the commencement service, I felt as if I was finished also -- without the benefit of a diploma. This semester has had one "little death" after another. The "non-closing" closing of Seabury, the layoffs of the staff, the blanket firing of the faculty, the resignations of Frank Yamada and AKMA Adam, Ruth Meyers' sabbatical, and Rosemary Gooden's visiting professorship at Virgina Theological Seminary. Then, there's the dissolving fall schedule and the closing of the bookstore. Sunt lacrimae rerum. I know next year will be sad but I also know that there will be joy and that we will be alright. The Dean suggested the other night that we bless God for what is. I intend to do just that -- and to feel sad when I need to.

And I have a backlog of about seven movies to review. I'll get busy. Most of them are out of the theatres already, but I can always mislead you about whether to rent them or not.

One Long Holy Week

At 10:15 tonight, Good Friday 2008, my Dad, Art Ialongo, died peacefully. My brothers, sister, and I were all there, sad and relieved at the same time. Dad has spent the last four years in nursing homes suffering from a dementia which affected him cognitively and produced a profound aphasia. He knew us to the end, however. That was a blessing and a curse. He remembered enough to make him incredibly frustrated with his situation in life on a regular basis.

My mother died on All Saints Day and my dad on Good Friday. There's a lovely symmetry about that. My mother outlived her doctor's prediction of the time of her death by seven days. She died when we all left her room to argue about where we should purchase take out food. She was finally alone, she knew we would be all right, and, so, she died. My Dad was in the same mode. His doctor predicted he would not live past Tuesday evening. So, we decided to go out for dinner tonight and kissed him goodbye. Five minutes later we received a call that he had no discernible pulse, so we rushed back. He was only breathing every 10 seconds or so. This went on for an hour, so we decided to tell him we were going out to eat again. We just went as far as the front lobby. After about 20 minutes, his nurse told us to come back. She thought he had died, but we noticed that every 25 seconds or so, his jaw and throat would move. This lasted only 10 more minutes or so. He finally rested. I, on the other hand, am very tired.

Valley of the Dry Bones Sermon

My bones have always managed to give me a bit of trouble. I was born with misaligned knees, so the cartilage in my knees wore away until I couldn’t walk more than twenty yards or so without having to sit down. I found it impossible to pick up my grandchildren and could only ascend stairs with my hands on the risers above me. Finally, after using and discarding every arthritis remedy available – glucosomine and chondriton, copper bracelets, and Montmorency cherries to name a few – knee replacement surgery became my only viable option.

In this type of surgery, the old, damaged knee is removed and replaced by a titanium and plastic or, sometimes, ceramic joint. The surgeon looks like he’s dressed for a hazardous materials cleanup. He’s completely covered with a bulky white suit and wearing a helmet and a visor. He saws through the femur and tibia in order to place the prosthetic device correctly. When my first knee was replaced, I had a spinal anesthetic, so I remained awake during the surgery. I have distinct memories of hearing the saw, the hammer, and the drill. I also remember how detached I felt from the whole proceeding. I was no longer in relationship with my body. While I listened dispassionately, sinews and flesh and skin were sewn back into place.

But, like the bones that had come back to bones in Ezekiel, these bones had no breath in them. They did not live. That resurrection would only be accomplished by brutal physical therapy, hard work on my part, and, of course, the grace of God.

Ezekiel’s vision of the dry bones showed the dispirited exiles from Judah that rebuilding their community was far from impossible. This group constituted a remnant which had survived through God’s enduring mercy. Through Ezekiel, Yahweh was calling them yet again to an exemplary life as his people. Their heritage had not ended in captivity; it had become a new story, built on the solid foundations of their old story and Yahweh’s special loving-kindness.

We are the Seabury remnant. For one hundred and fifty years, others have come before us. For about half that time, future priests have lived in this corner of Evanston, learning all they could about loving and serving the Lord. Now, only a few of us, a remnant, remain. The sinews, flesh, and skin on our bones have been ripped away.

We can choose to spend the rest of our time here buried, bones piled on bones in the ground. We can choose to acquiesce to our anger and grief -- to live in an atmosphere of victimization.

Or we can choose to do what the returning exiles, the Hebrew remnant, were asked to do. We can choose to envision a new community -- to prepare worship that springs from our spiritual needs, to push the boundaries of our classes to create new spaces for learning, and to be community in ways that may only last as long as we are here, but in ways that will feed us for the rest of our lives.

God calls us to a new place – a bleak, uncomfortable place, a valley of our dry bones. We must don those hazardous material suits. We must do the hard work: replace the sinews, the flesh, and the skin on those bones. We must wait for God’s breath to give us life again. Called or not called, God is here, and God has promised us nothing less than resurrection.

Just A Few Pictures

10 Best Movies of 2007

It's about time that I got around to picking the 10 best movies of last year. After all, the Oscars will be awarded tomorrow night. I decided I have a right to do this because I saw 48 movies IN THEATRES last year. Yes, 48. I don't even want to think about how much this amounts to in ticket and concession costs. I do believe this love affair I have with the big screen points to an addiction on my part. What can I say?

I also believe I have a right to do this because top ten lists among movie critics are notoriously inconsistent. It's rare that one or two films make "everybody's" list. So, here's my inconsistent list.

As I write this, I'm watching North By Northwest. I never get tired of watching this film: "How does a girl like you get to be a girl like you?" It's worth viewing over and over just to hear that line.

I'm bothered by how many violent films I have on this list (at the top yet), but they were damn good films. I'm not quite sure why the numbers aren't showing up on the list, but No. 1 is No Country for Old Men.

1. No Country for Old Men



2. Eastern Promises



3. There Will Be Blood



4. Across the Universe



5. Charlie Wilson's War



6. La Vie en Rose



7. I'm Not There



8. Hairspray



9. Lars and the Real Girl



10. American Gangster

Honorable Mention (in no particular order): Breach, Zodiac, 300, Blades of Glory (it really WAS funny), Knocked Up, Ratatouille, 3:10 to Yuma, Michael Clayton, The Kite Runner, Juno, The Savages

Ave atque vale?

Latest Favorite Picture of the Gang

Today I delivered my first sermon at Seabury. It's also possible it will be my last. All we know at this point is that no new students are being accepted for the '08-'09 school year and that Seabury will no longer offer a residential 3-year M.Div. program. Beyond that, we are still waiting for the details. I had written another sermon for today, but it just didn't work anymore. So, last night at 11pm, I wrote another one.

Seabury Sermon: 2/22/08

Yesterday morning I woke up reciting a poem I had memorized 44 years ago for Sister Agnes Joseph in my sophomore English class at Aquinas Dominican High School on the south side of Chicago. She had asked us to memorize one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. My choice was odd for a sixteen year old. The poem is a carpe diem poem. If you saw the movie, Dead Poets Society, you heard a lot of talk about carpe diem, usually translated “seize the day.”
Carpe diem poems generally express, in some poetic way, the sentiment: “life is short and time flies, let’s make the most of it.” Often, in these poems, a male lover addresses a woman he admires and tries to convince her that loving him would be a very good idea indeed. It’s kind of a “Birds-do-it.-Bees-do-it.-Even-educated-fleas-do-it.-Let’s-do-it.-Let’s-fall-in-love.” approach to life.

What made this poem an odd choice for a sixteen year old in a girl’s prep school was that the speaker of the sonnet is wooing the addressee with the argument that he is quite old, so “time’s a wastin.’” -- love me or I may be gone soon.
Right now at Seabury, I daresay all of us are experiencing a veritable panoply of emotions. Sadness, fear, anger, confusion, skepticism, helplessness, powerlessness, paralysis, grief to name a few.

Right now, we are living in ambiguous uncertainty. It doesn’t feel good. In times like these, Carpe diem may be a helpful world view to adopt. The past is gone. We have no hope of bringing it into the present. The future isn’t here. We can’t control it. We can’t act in it. There really is no point in worrying about it. As Jesus said, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?”
Although our emotional rollercoaster will continue to climb and drop, let’s seize the day. Let’s practice letting go of the past and letting go of worrying about the future. Let’s be present to one another in the here and now. Let’s be mindful of each other’s gifts. Let’s rejoice in this day, the day the Lord has made. Let’s remember that we are loved and that nothing can separate us from that love.

Yesterday morning, as I lay in bed reciting my Shakespearean sonnet, I thought how, as with the Bible, we can read and reread Shakespeare and hear it every time in a new way. As I listened to the sonnet, I heard that it was Seabury that was the speaker.
I now know that the reason I memorized this unlikely sonnet 44 years ago was to recite it to you this morning:

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Review: Juno

Juno: ***
Nonna Rating System: $$$

I actually saw Juno about a month ago and completely forgot to write the review. -- not that the movie was forgettable! Quite the contrary. It's as delightful as everyone seems to think it is and it manages to please teenagers as well as senior citizens. That, in itself, makes it a film worth seeing.

By now, everyone knows that Juno gets pregnant as the result of her first sexual experience. The father of the baby is Juno's good friend Paulie Bleeker, played by Michael Cera with the same blend of innocence and naivete he employed so effectively in Arrested Development. Juno recognizes that keeping the baby is neither in her or the baby's best interests. She decides to select the adoptive parents herself -- and then the story gets a bit more complicated.

Some have criticized the movie for making teen pregnancy "too attractive." They contend that the pregnancy seems to constitute only a minor interruption in Juno's life, a blip easily forgotten. There are, they argue, too few consequences of her irresponsible behavior. I can't agree with this assessment. The film makes clear to us, for example, that being pregnant generates all sorts of physical discomforts. In addition, Juno agonizes over her decisions about the baby and, finally, must deal with the fact that life often presents us with ambiguous situations for which we must make difficult decisions. After I watched the film, I thought, "If I had a teenage daughter and I wanted to talk to her about the possible negative consequences of sexual experimentation, I would take her to see this film and then sit down with her to talk about it."

Ellen Page's performance as Juno deserves the accolades being heaped on it. She manages to be funny and vulnerable at the same time. There is something very real about her performance. There were a few moments, however, when I groaned, when I realized that Diablo Cody, who wrote the screenplay, had put words in Juno's mouth that no teenager would utter. There were a few references which were joltingly out of place, appropriate for a 50 year old, but not a teenager. Nevertheless, Juno's smart mouth was generally a delightful entertainment. the film is definitely worth seeing. Go to the reduced price matinee. Take a teenager. You might learn something. I would have.

Nonna Rating System:
$$$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price
$$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price
$$ = Worth a rental
$ = Wait for cable
# = Skip it

Review: Charlie Wilson's War

Charlie Wilson's War: ****

Nonna's Rating: $$$$

Phillip Seymour Hoffman is reason enough to see Charlie Wilson’s War. A truly marvelous actor with the malleability of Robert DeNiro. Think of Capote, Magnolia, The Savages, and Boogie Nights. In Charlie Wilson’s War, Hoffman steals every scene he’s in – and he’s usually in scenes with Tom Hanks and/or Julia Roberts. Both of them, by the way, deliver fine performances in this film. Hoffman plays a CIA maverick, an operative so far down in the bowels of The Company that he really doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks of him – including U.S. Congressmen.

The movie is only about 90 minutes long, and it moves at a rapid pace, aided by snappy dialogue and rapid fire exchanges reminiscent of movies like His Girl Friday. And the dialogue is that good, thanks to the writing of Aaron Sorkin and the directing of Mike Nichols. I wanted to see the movie again just catch all the witty repartee -- and I just did. My Seabury friend Kristin and I are off on “Plunge,” a two week trip for future priests in which we immerse ourselves in the daily life of a church somewhere in these United States (we’re in DC). We decided to take a break tonight, have a quick dinner at Maggiano’s, and go see a movie. Washington insider movies almost always fascinate and even more so when you’re watching them in The District as we were. We’re staying with a couple whose next door neighbor knew Charlie Wilson. We’ll be having dinner with her on Sunday. That’s something to look forward to.

In the meantime, we have a delightful, funny, thought-provoking movie in Charlie Wilson, a much better movie than Atonement (sorry, Golden Globes). The movie focuses on the U.S.’s clandestine involvement in the war fought by Afghan rebels against the Soviets. When they movie finishes, there are no postscripts, no what-happened-to-so-and-so words flying across the screen. We’re not even reminded that the weapons we supplied to the Afghans became the weapons of the Taliban that are still being used against our troops. We don’t hear a narrator tell us that our failure to invest in education and infrastructure in Afghanistan and its consequences is similar to our failure to do the same in Iraq with its consequences. We’ve been told enough when Hoffman’s character says, “We’ll see.”

Nonna Rating System:

$$$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price

$$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price

$$ = Worth a rental

$ = Wait for cable

# = Skip it

Review: American Gangster

American Gangster: ***1/2
Nonna Rating System: $$$$

American Gangster is stunning in that Ridley Scott sort of way. It doesn't hurt to have Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe in your movie, even if they only have one scene together. Why is it that, so often when two major male stars are in a picture nowadays, they rarely have scenes together -- for example, DeNiro and Pacino in Heat?

In the end, it really doesn't matter. This is an excellent, complex film with meticulous performances by both actors: Washington, a drug kingpin whose private life is controlled, conservative, and drug-free and Crowe, a hyper-honest cop whose personal life is a shambles. In one sense, this is a classic Hollywood story: the cop no one listens to is convinced he can identify the who and how of the influx of drugs into the U.S. He is the only one who finally understands that the drugs arrive from Viet Nam in the false bottoms of metal coffins containing dead soldiers in body bags.

What makes the story original is the subtext of institutional racism that permeates the film: the white law enforcement establishment can't even begin to imagine that a black man might actually be the mastermind behind the drug trade in New York and its environs.

I always regret liking a violent film, but Scott doesn't ask us to revel in the violence here. He weaves scenes depicting the brutal, horrid reality of drug use throughout the movie. There's nothing pretty about these flashes of reality. We are confronted with the unspeakable consequences of drug use on individuals, families, children, and the neighborhoods they live in.

In 1971, my wasbund was stationed at Travis Air Force Base north of San Francisco. I did my grocery shopping at the Base Commissary which was next to the flightline. I often saw KC-130s from Viet Nam taxiing close to the Commissary parking lot after they had landed. One day, I just stood by my car and watched as soldiers got off a plane in their fatigues. Many of them kissed the ground. Some cried. After they had disembarked, the plane taxied and parked next to the base hospital. First, bandaged men were unloaded on stretchers, IV bottles attached to their arms. Then, the metal coffins were unloaded; they rested on the tarmac waiting for connecting planes that would take the bodies home. Some of them were headed to the East Coast. The film makes me wonder. Did some of those coffins contain drugs?

Nonna Rating System:

$$$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price
$$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price
$$ = Worth a rental
$ = Wait for cable
# = Skip it

Review: The Savages

The Savages: ***

Nonna Rating: $$

Sometimes movies are uncomfortably close to our everyday lives. Not too much danger of that from Spiderman, but The Savages is definitely too close to the bone for me. I'm not too sure that I'm being entirely fair to this film. It's well written and stars two of today's best actors: Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman. Throw in Philip Bosco, an older character actor you've seen a million times, and it's a nearly perfect little film which made me squirm.

Linney and Hoffman play a brother and sister who have no choice but to deal with their father's declining competence. I've played these scenes myself with my own father and siblings. That's why I find it so difficult to be objective about this film. And that, in turn, makes me think about how artificial it is to pretend that film reviews are objective at all. I completely understand why my personal experience is interfering to such a great extent in my evaluation of this picture. I, too, sat with my father as his cognitive abilities were being assessed by a series of questions administered by an assisted living administrator. I, too, tried to help him give the answers the questioner was looking for. I, too, was desperately anxious, worrying that he would be rejected as suitable for the facility. I, too, had to face reality when he was, indeed, rejected.

I also understand that siblings are often in different stages of denial, acceptance, anger, and grief. We all think that there must be a better place for our dissolving parent. We all think that there is a place where he can be happier. In many ways, this film is too real for me, so it's impossible for me to be objective. But what makes me think I'm more objective when I'm writing about Spiderman? Am I not also bringing my own experiences to that film? Experiences different from yours? Of course I am. So, all I'm offering here are occasional idiosyncratic opinions which you can choose to accept or ignore.

Nonna Rating System:
$$$$ = Worth paying the Friday evening price
$$$ = Worth paying the Matinee price
$$ = Worth a rental
$ = Wait for cable
# = Skip it