It was by chance that I got hooked on books about the Sweet Valley twins at the age of eleven (see this post for more of my ramblings about the books themselves). On the way to Scotland on holiday, I signed up to join a kids' book club in a Durham bookshop. A few months later they sent me a copy of a book from the Sweet Valley Kids, one of the spin-off series from the main Sweet Valley High books, in which the perfect, blonde, identical-twin heroines (anti-heroines?) Jessica and Elizabeth are aged seven. This series was far too young for me but I discovered Sweet Valley Twins, in which the girls are twelve, and then later Sweet Valley High.
They were trashy, poorly written and predictable and I could get through a book from the Twins series in about an hour and it took me about two hours to read a Sweet Valley High book. Some of my first experiences with the interwebs involved ordering as many of these books as Papa would let me in a single pop from the American Book Center in Amsterdam, circa 1995, and every time Papa went to the States, I would give him a shopping list of the books to buy and I would constantly scour second-hand bookshops looking for rare titles. The books are now stowed safely in a trunk in my parents' airing cupboard (which functions as a loft) but they'd probably be more upset than me if the books got thrown away; after all, they had invested serious time and money in my collection.
The last book was published about ten years ago but this week, Sweet Valley Confidential has been released -- a sequel in which the twins are now 27 (wow, they're finally the same age as me!) and all grown up. The reviews haven't exactly been positive; Monica Hesse in the Washington Post's Lifestyle blog describes the new book as, "less like a sequel and more like fan fiction." I can imagine. I've read the first chapter and it really sounds like it's trying too hard to be all contemporary. I should know. When I was 13, for English class we had to put together a creative writing portfolio and my short story component (well, more of a novella in my case) was at least partly inspired by a pair of twins who look identical but act like polar opposites. I got an A+.
Anyway, as Hesse points out, who is the audience of Sweet Valley Confidential? Tweens and teens probably won't want to read about some ancient 27-year-olds and besides, SVC would look embarrassingly tame compared with the likes of Gossip Girl and Pretty Little Liars. Of course, the former fans on the 1bruce1 community who love to hate the series will probably take a look at the books but no other twenty-somethings will really want to read the new book...will they?
Anyway, I will probably be able to see for myself as my parents are in New York at the moment and they went to see Francine Pascal (the creator of the series) read from the new book (Papa even asked a question, although I hope he said I was a former rather than current fan...), and I imagine they'll be bringing me back a signed copy. But it will have to wait until I've finished a Len Deighton trilogy, the new Jo Nesbo, The King's Speech, All We Wanted Was Everything and A Favourite of the Gods. Maybe longer.
31 March 2011
30 March 2011
Keira, Peggy and a Pair of Sliders
I'd been wanting to check out Spuntino, Polpo's newest baby sister (and with seats only at the bar and barely any standing room, it's pretty tiny) since Daily Candy wrote about it and as I was heading to the theatre in Panton Street tonight, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. There are no bookings, no phone and no menu (not online, anyway) and even though it was only 6.15 on a Wednesday when I showed up, there was already a queue. It was lucky I arrived early because by the time E arrived, the line was practically out of the door and when we left at 7.23, it was well out of the door. We had to wait about 25 minutes for our chance to perch at the bar but it was worth the wait and the food came quickly.
Unlike Polpo and Polpetto, Spuntino has a strong New York flavour to its Italian small plate dishes. I went for the lardo crostini with caperberries (I had no idea what the latter were but they were tasty) and a ground beef and bone marrow "slider." The sliders are probably the best value food on the menu and they're very tasty too. You get a mini-burger/meatball in a brioche bun with assorted condiments. With a few other plates (or maybe some frites) this dish could satisfy my burger cravings. E went for a duck and (something cheesy) salad, which was pretty tiny so she ordered her own slider. Sadly, I had to give the Prosecco a miss but I'll definitely be back to sample the puddings (Nutella pizzetta? Sì, per favore) -- and when I have more time. Kudos to the staff, though, who managed to get us seated, watered and fed in time to (just about) make it to the Comedy Theatre.
I saw the 1962 movie version of The Children's Hour earlier this year and this evening, I saw the play, starring Keira Knightley in the Audrey Hepburn role (Karen) and Elisabeth Moss as the Shirley MacLaine character (Martha). Watching the film, you might think of it as a very stagey movie but actually, I think the pacing of the film worked a lot better than in the movie. With lengthy scene changes, the play tended to have very long scenes and Knightley and Moss didn't have a lot to do in the first half, where they were largely outstaged by Bryony Hannah playing the odious Mary. Ellen Burstyn, playing Mary's grandmother, was good fun, although Carol Kane, who played Martha's aunt, was a little over the top even for a luvvie.
The drama really ramped up in the second half and Moss was excellent -- everything about her from her voice to her expressions to her body language were completely different to when she is playing Peggy in Mad Men. Keira, meanwhile, was also pretty good, although her accent faltered from time to time (all of the cast seemed to be aiming for non-rhotic accents so I assume the play is set near Boston or New York) and she seemed to be going for the wrong Hepburn -- at times, she seemed as though she was parodying Katharine Hepburn. While Audrey played the role of Karen in a very cool, understated way, Keira was loud, angry and aggressive and with that distinctive Katharine Hepburn New England twang. This was a little distracting.
I am, of course, tainted by having seen the movie first because although I really enjoyed the play and felt the acting was good, the structure of the movie felt better suited for telling this rich, interesting story. It was easy for me to fill in the gaps in the play, based on what I knew from the film, but I suspect I would have felt less satisfied with the play if I hadn't seen the film.
Unlike Polpo and Polpetto, Spuntino has a strong New York flavour to its Italian small plate dishes. I went for the lardo crostini with caperberries (I had no idea what the latter were but they were tasty) and a ground beef and bone marrow "slider." The sliders are probably the best value food on the menu and they're very tasty too. You get a mini-burger/meatball in a brioche bun with assorted condiments. With a few other plates (or maybe some frites) this dish could satisfy my burger cravings. E went for a duck and (something cheesy) salad, which was pretty tiny so she ordered her own slider. Sadly, I had to give the Prosecco a miss but I'll definitely be back to sample the puddings (Nutella pizzetta? Sì, per favore) -- and when I have more time. Kudos to the staff, though, who managed to get us seated, watered and fed in time to (just about) make it to the Comedy Theatre.
I saw the 1962 movie version of The Children's Hour earlier this year and this evening, I saw the play, starring Keira Knightley in the Audrey Hepburn role (Karen) and Elisabeth Moss as the Shirley MacLaine character (Martha). Watching the film, you might think of it as a very stagey movie but actually, I think the pacing of the film worked a lot better than in the movie. With lengthy scene changes, the play tended to have very long scenes and Knightley and Moss didn't have a lot to do in the first half, where they were largely outstaged by Bryony Hannah playing the odious Mary. Ellen Burstyn, playing Mary's grandmother, was good fun, although Carol Kane, who played Martha's aunt, was a little over the top even for a luvvie.
The drama really ramped up in the second half and Moss was excellent -- everything about her from her voice to her expressions to her body language were completely different to when she is playing Peggy in Mad Men. Keira, meanwhile, was also pretty good, although her accent faltered from time to time (all of the cast seemed to be aiming for non-rhotic accents so I assume the play is set near Boston or New York) and she seemed to be going for the wrong Hepburn -- at times, she seemed as though she was parodying Katharine Hepburn. While Audrey played the role of Karen in a very cool, understated way, Keira was loud, angry and aggressive and with that distinctive Katharine Hepburn New England twang. This was a little distracting.
I am, of course, tainted by having seen the movie first because although I really enjoyed the play and felt the acting was good, the structure of the movie felt better suited for telling this rich, interesting story. It was easy for me to fill in the gaps in the play, based on what I knew from the film, but I suspect I would have felt less satisfied with the play if I hadn't seen the film.
27 March 2011
C'est Norrmalm
As I have mentioned a few times before, I don't make New Year's resolutions but this year, I did want to travel to some new places. Much as I love visiting New York and Cannes, I missed the more exploratory travelling I did while at university -- Cuba, Hong Kong and Mexico, for example. All of the guidebooks say that you should visit Stockholm in the summer (so too do the locals) but because Sweden is a winter country in my mind, it is best experienced in winter.
I was too wussy to want to go in January, of course, but it turned out that even late March was very cold indeed. Sure, the sun shone brightly and often but the wind was bitterly cold, making me want to seek shelter in some of the more built-up parts of the islands. On the bright side, Stockholm is crammed full of cosy cafes and patisseries, where you can linger over a mug of varm chokolade (hot chocolate) -- usually served with whipped cream and chocolate chips -- and a kanelbulle (cinnamon bun). The cafe at Hotel Rival, owned by Benny from ABBA, was a very funky place to hang out on a sunny afternoon. Espressos, macchiatos and other more Italian forms of beverage are also widely available; indeed, in a lovely cafe in Gamla Stan, the old town, the latte art rivalled that of many of London's and New York's best espresso bars.
Three days is just about enough time for an introductory trip to Stockholm. It takes a little while to get used to the city's geography. We were staying on the main island, in Norrmalm, about a 20-minute walk to the city centre and then just another five minutes on to Gamla Stan and another ten to Södermalm. The latter (particularly the area south of Folkungagatan -- SoFo) is often compared to SoHo in Manhattan but I think Brooklyn is a better comparison. The area near Fjällgatan, for example, with its pretty houses looking out into the sea and over the city centre is not dissimilar to Brooklyn Heights. The shops and cafes in SoFo, meanwhile, while similar in style to those in SoHo, the area is definitely a lot more residential -- more like Williamsburg.
It isn't as though the city shuts down in winter, either. We went on a boat trip around some of the islands, visited the excellent (and, unusually for Stockholm, free) city museum, and walked through Gamla Stan, Söder and Djurgården (the "animal island"), which looked a little sad to be so deserted in the winter but still has several good museums that are open year-round. As well as the fika, I also tried some meatballs with lingon berries and a mouthful, at least, of elk at Clas på Hörnet, a very intimate, romantic restaurant in Norrmalm. Unfortunately, I was somewhat under the weather for most of the trip so we didn't make it to the Ice Bar (I'd had enough of being cold during the daytime) but we did make it to Gondolen for cocktails. This bar, at the top of the Katarinahissen, 100 feet above Södermalm. The cocktails are delicious and the views are great, especially at sunset; I'm sure the ginger vodka and cinnamon in my drink did wonders for my sore throat...
As for the language, I went to Stockholm knowing almost nothing beyond hej and tack, which, for a linguist, is quite scary. As I speak French and Italian well and Spanish and German a little, the only other time, since childhood, that I've been to a country where I didn't speak the language was Hong Kong and on that occasion, the level of English spoken by the residents was generally not as good as I was expecting. Not so in Stockholm, of course, where everyone speaks perfect English, even if they do often have an American accent. I still felt guilty speaking in English and by the end of the trip my pronunciation and reading comprehension had improved quite a lot (thanks mainly to my knowledge of German and English etymology) and I'd learnt that ö is a "soft" vowel and so köttbullar (meatballs) are pronounced more like "shurt-booluh" than "skurt-booluh."
From the boat trip, meanwhile, I learnt that in the early 19th century, Sweden ran out of potential kings and so they asked Napoleon to recommend one of his marshals for the position. He did -- a guy called Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, who took on the more Swedish name Karl Johan, which is why the Swedish royal family has a French name. For a city so surrounded by water, meanwhile, my guidebooks and the city museum seemed to be rather full of stories of how various buildings were destroyed by fire. Craziness. The museum also had an exhibit on the Millennium Trilogy by Steig Larrson, which included several newspapers they had made up with headlines about the depravity of Lisbeth Salander, as well as a map of some of the Stockholm locations from the film.
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| That's enough ice. (Ed.) |
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| Leaping in Stockhom's narrowest alley, Mårten Trotzigs Gränd |
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| The view from Gondolen |
It isn't as though the city shuts down in winter, either. We went on a boat trip around some of the islands, visited the excellent (and, unusually for Stockholm, free) city museum, and walked through Gamla Stan, Söder and Djurgården (the "animal island"), which looked a little sad to be so deserted in the winter but still has several good museums that are open year-round. As well as the fika, I also tried some meatballs with lingon berries and a mouthful, at least, of elk at Clas på Hörnet, a very intimate, romantic restaurant in Norrmalm. Unfortunately, I was somewhat under the weather for most of the trip so we didn't make it to the Ice Bar (I'd had enough of being cold during the daytime) but we did make it to Gondolen for cocktails. This bar, at the top of the Katarinahissen, 100 feet above Södermalm. The cocktails are delicious and the views are great, especially at sunset; I'm sure the ginger vodka and cinnamon in my drink did wonders for my sore throat...
As for the language, I went to Stockholm knowing almost nothing beyond hej and tack, which, for a linguist, is quite scary. As I speak French and Italian well and Spanish and German a little, the only other time, since childhood, that I've been to a country where I didn't speak the language was Hong Kong and on that occasion, the level of English spoken by the residents was generally not as good as I was expecting. Not so in Stockholm, of course, where everyone speaks perfect English, even if they do often have an American accent. I still felt guilty speaking in English and by the end of the trip my pronunciation and reading comprehension had improved quite a lot (thanks mainly to my knowledge of German and English etymology) and I'd learnt that ö is a "soft" vowel and so köttbullar (meatballs) are pronounced more like "shurt-booluh" than "skurt-booluh."
From the boat trip, meanwhile, I learnt that in the early 19th century, Sweden ran out of potential kings and so they asked Napoleon to recommend one of his marshals for the position. He did -- a guy called Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, who took on the more Swedish name Karl Johan, which is why the Swedish royal family has a French name. For a city so surrounded by water, meanwhile, my guidebooks and the city museum seemed to be rather full of stories of how various buildings were destroyed by fire. Craziness. The museum also had an exhibit on the Millennium Trilogy by Steig Larrson, which included several newspapers they had made up with headlines about the depravity of Lisbeth Salander, as well as a map of some of the Stockholm locations from the film.
20 March 2011
"Why Do All You F*****g W*****s Play Golf?"
It has been a while since I've seen a solid legal thriller/courtroom drama at the cinema (OK, technically, The Social Network is a courtroom drama but I'm not counting it here). To some extent, even though this is one of my favourite genres, it isn't too big a deal because a) I get a 42-minute dose of courtroom drama most weeks in The Good Wife and b) there were tons of them made in the '80s and '90s that I have yet to watch.
I hadn't heard anything about The Lincoln Lawyer until I happened to step into an Oxford bookshop last weekend to kill time and spotted the movie edition of the book of the same name by Michael Connelly. I was a little put off by the fact that the film would star Matthew McConaughey but I thought it sounded reasonable. Then a four-star review in the Grauniad praised it as, "a terrific LA noir thriller with a career-best performance from Matthew McConaughey." Maybe only the first part of that summary swayed me, given that McConaughey's presence in a film isn't exactly synonymous with good quality by any means. But A Time To Kill was the first movie adaptation of a John Grisham novel that I ever saw (somewhat inappropriately, on the school bus, aged 13) so I caved. Besides, after yesterday's forays into Loach's Liverpool, I felt I owed a nice, solid legal thriller.
And it was. Solid, that is. McConaughey plays Mick Haller, a defence attorney who operates from the back of his chauffeur-driven Lincoln Town Car (unfortunately, the car gets about as much screen time as William H. Macy, who plays Haller's long-suffering investigator). He has defended plenty of criminals who ended up walking free and he may also have allowed innocent clients to serve jail time to avoid a death penalty. Enter Louis Roulet (played by a smoking Ryan Phillippe), who could easily be an older version of Sebastian Valmont, Phillippe's character in Cruel Intentions. Roulet is accused of assaulting a nearly killing a hooker in her apartment. He swears he is innocent and so does his mother, who is keen to avoid any negative publicity affecting their family.
Along the way, there are plenty of twists and turns--some of them fairly obvious, others less so--and perhaps even more conflicts of interest. Haller's ex-wife Maggie (Marisa Tomei) works for the DA, for one thing and, for another, Haller's appointment as Roulet's lawyer may not be as coincidental as it initially seemed. I liked The Lincoln Lawyer although it did get pretty silly in places. The audience was roaring with laughter at some of the (unintentionally funny) lines as well as the more intentional ones ("you've got more balls than a Chinese ping pong tournament"). Meanwhile, when Haller finds his client playing golf, I was reminded of a line from Route Irish, which I found inexplicably hilarious. "Why do all you f*cking w*nkers play golf?" demands Fergus on finding the second ne'er-do-well in a row on a golf course.
Macy and Tomei were as good as ever, though, and Phillippe was suitably hot and angry. As for McConaughey, he was charming enough in his cocky, Southern "idn't it?" kind of way. And he could have walked right out of a John Grisham novel (from a Michael Connelly novel too, I'm sure, but I haven't read any)--possibly The King of Torts. But although Alicia Florrick might not have approved of Haller's means, I think she would have been satisfied with his ends.
I hadn't heard anything about The Lincoln Lawyer until I happened to step into an Oxford bookshop last weekend to kill time and spotted the movie edition of the book of the same name by Michael Connelly. I was a little put off by the fact that the film would star Matthew McConaughey but I thought it sounded reasonable. Then a four-star review in the Grauniad praised it as, "a terrific LA noir thriller with a career-best performance from Matthew McConaughey." Maybe only the first part of that summary swayed me, given that McConaughey's presence in a film isn't exactly synonymous with good quality by any means. But A Time To Kill was the first movie adaptation of a John Grisham novel that I ever saw (somewhat inappropriately, on the school bus, aged 13) so I caved. Besides, after yesterday's forays into Loach's Liverpool, I felt I owed a nice, solid legal thriller.
And it was. Solid, that is. McConaughey plays Mick Haller, a defence attorney who operates from the back of his chauffeur-driven Lincoln Town Car (unfortunately, the car gets about as much screen time as William H. Macy, who plays Haller's long-suffering investigator). He has defended plenty of criminals who ended up walking free and he may also have allowed innocent clients to serve jail time to avoid a death penalty. Enter Louis Roulet (played by a smoking Ryan Phillippe), who could easily be an older version of Sebastian Valmont, Phillippe's character in Cruel Intentions. Roulet is accused of assaulting a nearly killing a hooker in her apartment. He swears he is innocent and so does his mother, who is keen to avoid any negative publicity affecting their family.
Along the way, there are plenty of twists and turns--some of them fairly obvious, others less so--and perhaps even more conflicts of interest. Haller's ex-wife Maggie (Marisa Tomei) works for the DA, for one thing and, for another, Haller's appointment as Roulet's lawyer may not be as coincidental as it initially seemed. I liked The Lincoln Lawyer although it did get pretty silly in places. The audience was roaring with laughter at some of the (unintentionally funny) lines as well as the more intentional ones ("you've got more balls than a Chinese ping pong tournament"). Meanwhile, when Haller finds his client playing golf, I was reminded of a line from Route Irish, which I found inexplicably hilarious. "Why do all you f*cking w*nkers play golf?" demands Fergus on finding the second ne'er-do-well in a row on a golf course.
Macy and Tomei were as good as ever, though, and Phillippe was suitably hot and angry. As for McConaughey, he was charming enough in his cocky, Southern "idn't it?" kind of way. And he could have walked right out of a John Grisham novel (from a Michael Connelly novel too, I'm sure, but I haven't read any)--possibly The King of Torts. But although Alicia Florrick might not have approved of Haller's means, I think she would have been satisfied with his ends.
19 March 2011
Uphill Battles
Ken Loach's Sweet Sixteen was released during my first term at university. I can't remember now whether or not I went to see it (I do remember that Monsieur E was lulled into a false sense of security by the presence of the subtitles for the near-incomprehensible Scottish accents, which disappeared 30 minutes in); if I did, I didn't like it. I thought I had rejected all of his subsequent films for not being my type but actually, it turned out that he made Looking for Eric, which I quite liked.
Anyway, I was surprised to find that I didn't automatically dislike Route Irish, Loach's latest film, after seeing the trailer. In fact, it looked quite interesting, even though I don't like war films or Loach films. In Route Irish, Fergus (Mark Womack) plays Fergus, a former soldier-turned-security-contractor whose best friend Frankie (John Bishop) has just been killed on the eponymous Route Irish, a stretch of highway between Baghdad Airport and the Green Zone that has been called the most dangerous road in the world, for obvious reasons (the reasons why it is called Route Irish are less clear to me). Frankie's vehicle was blown up while he was on the way to the airport to pick up a client.
But all is not as it seems, of course. A mutual friend gives Fergus a package from Frankie, which contains a mobile phone that Frankie wanted Fergus to have and Fergus enlists the help of a local Iraqi to translate the videos and text messages it contains. In fact, Frankie's death might not have been so accidental after all and Fergus's suspicions rise when the higher ups at the security firm seem very keen to get their hands on the phone but the more he discovers, the more thirsty for revenge he becomes. Meanwhile, Frankie's wife/girlfriend Rachel (Andrea Lowe) gets over her initial anger with with Fergus for tempting Frankie out to Iraq in the first place, and the two grow closer. But do they already know too much? And how far will Fergus go to avenge his friend's death?
Overall, I thought Route Irish was OK and not just because it allowed me to work on my Scouse accent. The story moved fairly quickly and because it turns out that I didn't read much international news before about 2009, I don't know a lot about the situation with security firms contracted to work in Afghanistan and Iraq and the issues with them. The characters were quite well developed too and the developing relationship between Fergus and Rachel felt genuine. It was, however, a very grim, dark film, which isn't ideal for a sunny Saturday afternoon. As there were only four other people in the cinema, it seems that Route Irish might be a little too niche and even Loach's fans will probably find it rather weak.
The other war-related film I saw this week was the political thriller Fair Game, which was excellent, mainly thanks to the brilliant acting from Naomi Watts and Sean Penn. Based on a true story, the film stars Watts as Valerie Plame, a former CIA agent whose identity was outed and career ruined after her husband, Joe Wilson (Penn), wrote an article for the New York Times criticising the Bush administration for decisions made regarding the war in Afghanistan. Wilson's constant need to keep on speaking out about the wrongdoings of the Bush government and Plame's desire to keep quiet in order to protect her family put some serious strains on their marriage too, which makes for an emotional movie.
Again, I didn't know much about the events depicted in this film. For example, I knew that Scooter Libby and Karl Rove had fallen from grace but I didn't know the events that led to this (or really who they were; well, when Summer in The O.C. compared another character to Karl Rove, I knew it wasn't a compliment). I'm not going to address the political biases of the film, if any, because I'm not really qualified for that. It was, however, a good thriller with some great acting and even though I had to pay £12 to see it, I think it was worth the money (praise indeed for someone who tries to avoid paying more than £8 per film -- even in London).
Anyway, I was surprised to find that I didn't automatically dislike Route Irish, Loach's latest film, after seeing the trailer. In fact, it looked quite interesting, even though I don't like war films or Loach films. In Route Irish, Fergus (Mark Womack) plays Fergus, a former soldier-turned-security-contractor whose best friend Frankie (John Bishop) has just been killed on the eponymous Route Irish, a stretch of highway between Baghdad Airport and the Green Zone that has been called the most dangerous road in the world, for obvious reasons (the reasons why it is called Route Irish are less clear to me). Frankie's vehicle was blown up while he was on the way to the airport to pick up a client.
But all is not as it seems, of course. A mutual friend gives Fergus a package from Frankie, which contains a mobile phone that Frankie wanted Fergus to have and Fergus enlists the help of a local Iraqi to translate the videos and text messages it contains. In fact, Frankie's death might not have been so accidental after all and Fergus's suspicions rise when the higher ups at the security firm seem very keen to get their hands on the phone but the more he discovers, the more thirsty for revenge he becomes. Meanwhile, Frankie's wife/girlfriend Rachel (Andrea Lowe) gets over her initial anger with with Fergus for tempting Frankie out to Iraq in the first place, and the two grow closer. But do they already know too much? And how far will Fergus go to avenge his friend's death?
Overall, I thought Route Irish was OK and not just because it allowed me to work on my Scouse accent. The story moved fairly quickly and because it turns out that I didn't read much international news before about 2009, I don't know a lot about the situation with security firms contracted to work in Afghanistan and Iraq and the issues with them. The characters were quite well developed too and the developing relationship between Fergus and Rachel felt genuine. It was, however, a very grim, dark film, which isn't ideal for a sunny Saturday afternoon. As there were only four other people in the cinema, it seems that Route Irish might be a little too niche and even Loach's fans will probably find it rather weak.
The other war-related film I saw this week was the political thriller Fair Game, which was excellent, mainly thanks to the brilliant acting from Naomi Watts and Sean Penn. Based on a true story, the film stars Watts as Valerie Plame, a former CIA agent whose identity was outed and career ruined after her husband, Joe Wilson (Penn), wrote an article for the New York Times criticising the Bush administration for decisions made regarding the war in Afghanistan. Wilson's constant need to keep on speaking out about the wrongdoings of the Bush government and Plame's desire to keep quiet in order to protect her family put some serious strains on their marriage too, which makes for an emotional movie.
Again, I didn't know much about the events depicted in this film. For example, I knew that Scooter Libby and Karl Rove had fallen from grace but I didn't know the events that led to this (or really who they were; well, when Summer in The O.C. compared another character to Karl Rove, I knew it wasn't a compliment). I'm not going to address the political biases of the film, if any, because I'm not really qualified for that. It was, however, a good thriller with some great acting and even though I had to pay £12 to see it, I think it was worth the money (praise indeed for someone who tries to avoid paying more than £8 per film -- even in London).
13 March 2011
One Good Turn Deserves Another
It surprised me a lot to hear that not everyone had loved The Social Network, Inception and Black Swan as much as I did. I thought, perhaps, they were just trying to be contrary for the sake of it. Having watched Another Year last night, I may have to reassess the situation. I didn't bother to see Another Year when it was on at the cinema because it didn't seem like my kind of film. I'm not the greatest Mike Leigh fan (I quite liked Happy-Go-Lucky but that was mainly because I enjoyed laughing at the Brit-directed humour while watching the film in San Francisco) and I just couldn't get excited about the plot. This is, perhaps, because there is not much plot to speak of and although almost all of the reviews I have heard or read gushed with praise for the film, much of it focused on complimenting Lesley Manville's performance as the pathetic alcoholic Mary.
Don't get me wrong; Lesley Manville was very good but wasn't enough to carry the film alone. As for the rest of the plot, the film spends a year in the life of Tom (Jim Broadbent) and Gerri (Ruth Sheen), a happily married couple in their sixties; he is a geologist, she is a counsellor and they have a grown-up lawyer son, Joe. Meanwhile, their friends and family members flit in and out of their lives, bringing drama and woe. Mary, who works with Gerri, is the main bringer-of-woe: she gets drunk a lot, she makes an embarrassing play for Joe, and when Joe introduces a new girlfriend, she makes an even bigger scene. It's pretty cringe-worthy but I think we're supposed to think how wonderful Tom and Gerri are for tolerating this woman (and the imperfections of others in their life) without much more than gentle advice and no criticism.
Actually, though, they irritate the hell out of me. For a start, you can tell that Gerri is a counsellor because she has that condescending tone; she manages to convey, "you really need to be helping yourself here," with a simple eyebrow raise. Meanwhile, the looks she and Tom share when Mary is making a scene make it clear what their true feelings are, even if they think they are being "kind" to her by not lecturing. Tom and Gerri have a certain idea of how life should be lived and what happiness means; they will see anyone who varies from this standard as something of a lesser being. Mary is horrible, sure: she's selfish, thoughtless, lazy and silly. She's also very scared and lonely and in need of help and I think that Gerri, as a trained counsellor, could have done a lot more to get her that help than she does. Even if that means yelling at Mary and telling her when she crosses the line; perhaps that would make her realise she has gone too far.
I bought Another Year because I was trying to choose a film that both Maman and Papa would enjoy but sadly, this was not the case. Maman was asleep within ten minutes (long enough to see Imelda Staunton's brief role as another "inferior person" on the receiving end of Gerri's "help"). Papa lasted a little longer but didn't turn off his laptop. This film was not a success chez nous. Not in the slightest.
Don't get me wrong; Lesley Manville was very good but wasn't enough to carry the film alone. As for the rest of the plot, the film spends a year in the life of Tom (Jim Broadbent) and Gerri (Ruth Sheen), a happily married couple in their sixties; he is a geologist, she is a counsellor and they have a grown-up lawyer son, Joe. Meanwhile, their friends and family members flit in and out of their lives, bringing drama and woe. Mary, who works with Gerri, is the main bringer-of-woe: she gets drunk a lot, she makes an embarrassing play for Joe, and when Joe introduces a new girlfriend, she makes an even bigger scene. It's pretty cringe-worthy but I think we're supposed to think how wonderful Tom and Gerri are for tolerating this woman (and the imperfections of others in their life) without much more than gentle advice and no criticism.
Actually, though, they irritate the hell out of me. For a start, you can tell that Gerri is a counsellor because she has that condescending tone; she manages to convey, "you really need to be helping yourself here," with a simple eyebrow raise. Meanwhile, the looks she and Tom share when Mary is making a scene make it clear what their true feelings are, even if they think they are being "kind" to her by not lecturing. Tom and Gerri have a certain idea of how life should be lived and what happiness means; they will see anyone who varies from this standard as something of a lesser being. Mary is horrible, sure: she's selfish, thoughtless, lazy and silly. She's also very scared and lonely and in need of help and I think that Gerri, as a trained counsellor, could have done a lot more to get her that help than she does. Even if that means yelling at Mary and telling her when she crosses the line; perhaps that would make her realise she has gone too far.
I bought Another Year because I was trying to choose a film that both Maman and Papa would enjoy but sadly, this was not the case. Maman was asleep within ten minutes (long enough to see Imelda Staunton's brief role as another "inferior person" on the receiving end of Gerri's "help"). Papa lasted a little longer but didn't turn off his laptop. This film was not a success chez nous. Not in the slightest.
10 March 2011
Two Days in Paris
Technically, I only spent 24 hours in Paris rather than two days (and those 24 hours were infinitely more pleasant than the two days spent there by Julie Delpy and Adam Goldberg). Leaving work slightly early to hop on a Eurostar to Paris is very exciting indeed, especially for a Tuesday. You arrive in Paris 3h15 later (with the time difference) but that's OK because Parisians eat and go out later anyway (we ate at Les Editeurs, a favourite of mine near Odéon). Besides, they have such powerful heaters that you can eat dinner and sip your wine on the terrasse (well, pavement, anyway) even though it's March and still pretty nippy.
On the second day, a relatively early start is needed if you want to do a full Bex Tour. I like to walk a lot and I walk pretty fast so we managed to cover the 8.5 mile route shown below, starting in the 6th arrondissement and with stops for coffee, lunch and crêpes) before catching the métro from Trocadéro to Sevres-Babylone for a visit to Le Bon Marché (my favourite Parisian department store, although surprisingly disappointing on this occasion). Finally, as it started to get dark, we ambled back through Saint-Germain -- unlike much of the rest of the city, which was pretty dead, Saint-Germain was as heaving as ever.
View A Paris Perambulation in a larger map
There was just time for a quick dinner at Kong, where the 360-degree views over the Pont Neuf and the river are wonderful (as long as you book a table with a view) and the fillet steaks are perfect. And yes, I went there before the Sex and the City finale was filmed there. The time difference, of course, works in your favour on the way back so you can take a Eurostar from the Gare du Nord at 9.15 and be back in London for 10.30 p.m. local time.
The map shows the 8.5-mile route that took us from about 11 until 5.30, including the aforementioned pit stops. We weren't hurrying but I do tend to walk quite quickly, although there were also plenty of stops for photographs. If you're less familiar with Paris, you should definitely factor in more time or perhaps cut off either the Marais segment or the Eiffel Tower segment. Even so, the route manages to take in many of Paris's most famous sights (the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre) and many places that are a little further from the beaten track. I've also included the places where we ate, drank and caffeinated, as well as a number of my favourites from previous trips.
Of course, you don't have to make a fool of yourself by leaping in front of the Louvre (or the Eiffel Tower) but it is a lot of fun and for me, almost three years ago, it started a hobby. Besides, everyone else is too busy taking silly photos of themselves to pay too much attention to the girl who thinks she's really a five-feet-ten volleyball player...
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| Giant leap in front of the Louvre, 2011 |
On the second day, a relatively early start is needed if you want to do a full Bex Tour. I like to walk a lot and I walk pretty fast so we managed to cover the 8.5 mile route shown below, starting in the 6th arrondissement and with stops for coffee, lunch and crêpes) before catching the métro from Trocadéro to Sevres-Babylone for a visit to Le Bon Marché (my favourite Parisian department store, although surprisingly disappointing on this occasion). Finally, as it started to get dark, we ambled back through Saint-Germain -- unlike much of the rest of the city, which was pretty dead, Saint-Germain was as heaving as ever.
View A Paris Perambulation in a larger map
There was just time for a quick dinner at Kong, where the 360-degree views over the Pont Neuf and the river are wonderful (as long as you book a table with a view) and the fillet steaks are perfect. And yes, I went there before the Sex and the City finale was filmed there. The time difference, of course, works in your favour on the way back so you can take a Eurostar from the Gare du Nord at 9.15 and be back in London for 10.30 p.m. local time.
The map shows the 8.5-mile route that took us from about 11 until 5.30, including the aforementioned pit stops. We weren't hurrying but I do tend to walk quite quickly, although there were also plenty of stops for photographs. If you're less familiar with Paris, you should definitely factor in more time or perhaps cut off either the Marais segment or the Eiffel Tower segment. Even so, the route manages to take in many of Paris's most famous sights (the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre) and many places that are a little further from the beaten track. I've also included the places where we ate, drank and caffeinated, as well as a number of my favourites from previous trips.
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| The leap that started them all - April 2008 |
06 March 2011
Playing Scilly Buggers
I almost went to see Archipelago yesterday instead of The Adjustment Bureau but I usually have a stronger desire to see a thriller than an uncomfortable, upper-middle-class farce set in the Isles of Scilly. However, I saw the trailer for Archipelago a few weeks ago and even though I wasn't quite sure I got it (I certainly didn't get the dynamics of who was related to whom from the trailer), I was interested enough to see the film, which appears onto be showing in Curzon cinemas at the moment.
The plot, bare-bones as it is, is as follows: Patricia and her two adult children are staying in a holiday cottage on the Isles of Scilly as a farewell trip for Edward, the son, who is about to go off to Africa to save children from AIDS. The father is also supposed to show up but doesn't, to the annoyance of Patricia. They do have a father figure in the form of a man who is teaching Patricia and her daughter Cynthia to paint. They also have a pretty, young cook to cater to their every whim (something else that causes Edward's conscience to prick). They do very little: the occasional walk, a picnic, a disastrous lunch out, some painting and lots of sitting around talking and, eventually, arguing.
Most of the interior shots of the house are very dark and it can be hard to see the characters' expressions very well; this contrasts sharply with the lush, verdant Scillian vegetation in the outside world. There's also no music in the film, which means that every little sound, every niggling annoyance, every snipe and and every sneer is picked up and carried loud and clear. And the characters aren't very nice to each other. Cynthia criticises her brother's decision to take off for a "late gap year" (even more awkwardly, she also criticises her guinea fowl when they go out to lunch--she tells the chef it is undercooked and "frankly, dangerous" when he had only cooked it as guinea fowl should be cooked). Edward isn't really sure he wants to go to Africa without his girlfriend for 11 months and he's not sure he's doing the right thing. Patricia desperately wants some co-parenting from her husband but their phone calls--we can only hear her half--seem only to madden her more.
This film was about 20 minutes too long but only because 1 h 55 of awkwardness is quite a lot to bear, particularly when you are somewhat concerned that you may actually resemble the horrible Cynthia (deriding younger brother's life choices--check; pseudo-passive manipulations to get the better bedroom--check; sulking when ganged up on by the whole family--check). Well, at least until the point when she complains about her lunch; after that, I decided we weren't quite so similar after all. Given how little actually happens, the amount of detail is impressive. We see Rose the cook talking to a fisherman about how to tell the difference between male and female lobsters and then later talking to a game-keeper about preparing pheasant, or whatever game he has fetched. These interludes form a welcome relief from the House of Drama because although it would be unfair to say I didn't like Archipelago, I'm not sure how much I really enjoyed it.
The plot, bare-bones as it is, is as follows: Patricia and her two adult children are staying in a holiday cottage on the Isles of Scilly as a farewell trip for Edward, the son, who is about to go off to Africa to save children from AIDS. The father is also supposed to show up but doesn't, to the annoyance of Patricia. They do have a father figure in the form of a man who is teaching Patricia and her daughter Cynthia to paint. They also have a pretty, young cook to cater to their every whim (something else that causes Edward's conscience to prick). They do very little: the occasional walk, a picnic, a disastrous lunch out, some painting and lots of sitting around talking and, eventually, arguing.
Most of the interior shots of the house are very dark and it can be hard to see the characters' expressions very well; this contrasts sharply with the lush, verdant Scillian vegetation in the outside world. There's also no music in the film, which means that every little sound, every niggling annoyance, every snipe and and every sneer is picked up and carried loud and clear. And the characters aren't very nice to each other. Cynthia criticises her brother's decision to take off for a "late gap year" (even more awkwardly, she also criticises her guinea fowl when they go out to lunch--she tells the chef it is undercooked and "frankly, dangerous" when he had only cooked it as guinea fowl should be cooked). Edward isn't really sure he wants to go to Africa without his girlfriend for 11 months and he's not sure he's doing the right thing. Patricia desperately wants some co-parenting from her husband but their phone calls--we can only hear her half--seem only to madden her more.
This film was about 20 minutes too long but only because 1 h 55 of awkwardness is quite a lot to bear, particularly when you are somewhat concerned that you may actually resemble the horrible Cynthia (deriding younger brother's life choices--check; pseudo-passive manipulations to get the better bedroom--check; sulking when ganged up on by the whole family--check). Well, at least until the point when she complains about her lunch; after that, I decided we weren't quite so similar after all. Given how little actually happens, the amount of detail is impressive. We see Rose the cook talking to a fisherman about how to tell the difference between male and female lobsters and then later talking to a game-keeper about preparing pheasant, or whatever game he has fetched. These interludes form a welcome relief from the House of Drama because although it would be unfair to say I didn't like Archipelago, I'm not sure how much I really enjoyed it.
05 March 2011
Alterations Needed
Last June, while in New York, I saw a movie being filmed on Fifth Avenue. After hanging around for a few minutes across the road, I heard it was a Matt Damon film so I decided to wait at least until I saw him. Poor timing of buses and other traffic meant that I couldn't even see where in the shot he was supposed to be at first but then I got him. I took a few photos and then crossed over the block to go on my way and ended up walking walking behind Mr Damon himself (accidentally) who asked if I wanted to take a photo with him before his agent confiscated him (but not before I snapped another photo). The first thing I did, of course, was find some wifi and load up IMDb to find out what the film was. Reshoots for The Adjustment Bureau, said the crowd-sourced wisdom of IMDb; I'd never heard of it but it did explain why Damon and all the extras were wearing big winter coats when it was a hot June day.
[Some spoilers may follow below Matt Damon.]
Nine months later and The Adjustment Bureau made it to the cinema. I had to go to to see it because I'd seen the filming but actually, I quite liked it in its silly way, although how John Slattery coped with so much action after four years of Mad Men is a mystery even greater than The Chairman in this film (also, is John Slattery really only 48?).
Based on a short story by Philip K. Dick, The Adjustment Bureau is about a young, charismatic politician (Damon) and the powers that be that are willing to keep him there. Damon plays David Norris who is running for senator but a series of last-minute, foolish lapses of judgement on his part mean he is not expecting to win. In fact, he is in the men's bathroom rehearsing his "gracious loser" speech when Elise (Emily Blunt), a beautiful ballet dancer, pops out of one of the stalls (as one does) and there is chemistry, there are fireworks, there's a kiss... In any case, Elise "inspires" David to go and be honest to his audience; to tell them the truth about the campaign (no, he didn't pick his own tie; yes, it did $70,000 or something ridiculous for someone to pick the optimal shoes) and as such, the crowd loves him even more. Perhaps the next senatorial race will be his. And then who knows what heights he might like to climb next!
The trouble is that he and Elise aren't "meant to be." And I don't mean "not meant to be" in girl-speak. In this film, there are people out there in the world making sure the rest of us stick to our prescribed plans. And don't go getting all "creative" and "free will" on them or they might have to lobotomise you. Of course, this makes me wonder whether the bureau were also responsible for the type of mischief in Sliding Doors; I'd like to think they have better taste. The bureau are on your side -- if you're someone who might turn out to be as important as David Norris, that is, and the bureau seem to take pride in getting to oversee special people. It comes with the territory of wearing a hat and being able to go through special doors. Oh, and having this device that looks quite a lot like a real-time-updating Moleskine that allows them to track the progress of their subjects and to see any potentially impending disasters that might need some adjusting. This gadget may be it is just a Moleskine iPad case with an iPad inside; the scene I saw being filmed was being shot outside an AT&T shop so the product placement would work.
Dick probably wrote this story while high (well, odds are...) and I'm not sure it translates perfectly well to "serious but thought-provoking action-sci-fi thriller" but funnily enough, it seemed to work. There really was good chemistry between Damon and Blunt and I was hoping for them to be end up together, against all odds and against all silliness. To be fair, apart from a surprisingly brief moments, you can almost forget this film has a sci fi component altogether and just pretend Damon's character is caught up in some non-sci fi conspiracy that has to do with a completely random reason that he isn't meant to be with Elise. Thanks to a crap series of releases, I haven't been to the cinema for several weeks so I hope my judgement hasn't been clouded, but I did rather like The Adjustment Bureau.
Thomas "American Beauty" Newman's managed to be haunting and uneasy throughout while coming across as beautiful rather than annoying. There was great filming across Manhattan too, and into Dumbo, in Brooklyn, from the Waldorf to the subway system, into MoMA several times and what looked a lot like the Top of the Rock. The scene I saw being filmed took roughly 15 seconds and involved Damon's character scouring Fifth Avenue looking for his lost lady love. Coincidentally, a lot of other scenes are shot near Madison Square Park, which is where I was staying on that particular NYC trip. Damon's character appears to live near there; actually, based on a regularly used establishing-shot bridge connecting the 24th and 25th Street buildings together, I think his character may even have lived on the same block as my hotel.
Coincidence? Well, either that or the Adjustment Bureau wanted me to stay there and see the filming so that I would want to see the film of my own "free will." Obviously, because they would have their own reasons for me to find out about how they operate...
[Some spoilers may follow below Matt Damon.]
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| MATT DAMON! |
Nine months later and The Adjustment Bureau made it to the cinema. I had to go to to see it because I'd seen the filming but actually, I quite liked it in its silly way, although how John Slattery coped with so much action after four years of Mad Men is a mystery even greater than The Chairman in this film (also, is John Slattery really only 48?).
Based on a short story by Philip K. Dick, The Adjustment Bureau is about a young, charismatic politician (Damon) and the powers that be that are willing to keep him there. Damon plays David Norris who is running for senator but a series of last-minute, foolish lapses of judgement on his part mean he is not expecting to win. In fact, he is in the men's bathroom rehearsing his "gracious loser" speech when Elise (Emily Blunt), a beautiful ballet dancer, pops out of one of the stalls (as one does) and there is chemistry, there are fireworks, there's a kiss... In any case, Elise "inspires" David to go and be honest to his audience; to tell them the truth about the campaign (no, he didn't pick his own tie; yes, it did $70,000 or something ridiculous for someone to pick the optimal shoes) and as such, the crowd loves him even more. Perhaps the next senatorial race will be his. And then who knows what heights he might like to climb next!
The trouble is that he and Elise aren't "meant to be." And I don't mean "not meant to be" in girl-speak. In this film, there are people out there in the world making sure the rest of us stick to our prescribed plans. And don't go getting all "creative" and "free will" on them or they might have to lobotomise you. Of course, this makes me wonder whether the bureau were also responsible for the type of mischief in Sliding Doors; I'd like to think they have better taste. The bureau are on your side -- if you're someone who might turn out to be as important as David Norris, that is, and the bureau seem to take pride in getting to oversee special people. It comes with the territory of wearing a hat and being able to go through special doors. Oh, and having this device that looks quite a lot like a real-time-updating Moleskine that allows them to track the progress of their subjects and to see any potentially impending disasters that might need some adjusting. This gadget may be it is just a Moleskine iPad case with an iPad inside; the scene I saw being filmed was being shot outside an AT&T shop so the product placement would work.
Dick probably wrote this story while high (well, odds are...) and I'm not sure it translates perfectly well to "serious but thought-provoking action-sci-fi thriller" but funnily enough, it seemed to work. There really was good chemistry between Damon and Blunt and I was hoping for them to be end up together, against all odds and against all silliness. To be fair, apart from a surprisingly brief moments, you can almost forget this film has a sci fi component altogether and just pretend Damon's character is caught up in some non-sci fi conspiracy that has to do with a completely random reason that he isn't meant to be with Elise. Thanks to a crap series of releases, I haven't been to the cinema for several weeks so I hope my judgement hasn't been clouded, but I did rather like The Adjustment Bureau.
Thomas "American Beauty" Newman's managed to be haunting and uneasy throughout while coming across as beautiful rather than annoying. There was great filming across Manhattan too, and into Dumbo, in Brooklyn, from the Waldorf to the subway system, into MoMA several times and what looked a lot like the Top of the Rock. The scene I saw being filmed took roughly 15 seconds and involved Damon's character scouring Fifth Avenue looking for his lost lady love. Coincidentally, a lot of other scenes are shot near Madison Square Park, which is where I was staying on that particular NYC trip. Damon's character appears to live near there; actually, based on a regularly used establishing-shot bridge connecting the 24th and 25th Street buildings together, I think his character may even have lived on the same block as my hotel.
Coincidence? Well, either that or the Adjustment Bureau wanted me to stay there and see the filming so that I would want to see the film of my own "free will." Obviously, because they would have their own reasons for me to find out about how they operate...