apropos of anything

Last year, my heart just wasn’t in it, and I never made it to Screen on the Green. I kept seeing the words “Big Momma’s House”, followed by the words “Presenting Sponsor: Pepsi” and I just couldn’t taint my memories of sitting under the stars at Piedmont Park, singing along to “My Favorite Things”, with a cross-dressing Martin Lawrence flanked by posters of Atlanta’s arch-nemesis.

I mean, Pepsi. Seriously?

The schedule’s out this year, and it’s being hosted by Peachtree TV again. Not entirely surprising considering P’Tree TV is trying to gain a foothold in Atlanta, and while I’d still prefer the classics TCM would have chosen to air instead, I think I might just have to accept that for now, I’m going to have to catch my classics at home.

There’s one movie on the list that does make me go oooh! though: Field of Dreams. My love of baseball movies predates my love of baseball (no, I can’t explain it either), and FoD is really the one that got me hooked in the first place.

So I suppose this year’s got one up on the last year, even if the festival is still at Centennial and not at gorgeous Piedmont. And I’m glad to have it to look forward to again, all things considered.

I know that I have higher hopes for our 44th president, Barack Hussein Obama, than I have had for any other president that I can remember. Julia and I watched the inauguration from the bridge that spans the two towers of the CNN Center; the atrium directly below us was full to bursting with people who’d opted not to deal with the frigid temperatures at the outdoor Centennial Olympic park viewing, and every time Barack Obama appeared on the giant HD TV, the crowd roared like their football team had just scored the winning touchdown. It was amazing, just a little piece of the emotion that must have been happening in D.C. at that exact moment, but from the familiarity of my office, where I have experienced almost every significant event over the last eight years and the most fitting place for me to be to usher in the Obama era of hope and change.

I know he’s not magic, but he does make me believe that yes, he can, and yes, I can, and if we all give a little and work a lot we can dig ourselves out of this quagmire. I trust him, and I have faith in him, and I hope he starts his term tomorrow by coming out swinging.

I know that Geoff was absolutely right when he told me to see Slumdog Millionaire, even if I had to fly to New York to do it (and at the time, I would have). It’s a beautiful and heart-wrenching movie that stays with you, that reminds you of the tenacity of the human spirit, and above all else, makes you so grateful for having parents. For me specifically, the footage reminds me of how much I love Mumbai, flawed as it is, and also that from whom much has been given, much will be asked. They can’t touch me, we break our friends so fast they can’t even touch me…

I know that what’s happening in Gaza, what has been happening in Gaza for weeks now, makes my stomach churn. I don’t really care if you think Israel is right or if you think the Palestinians are right — surely you can agree that no human being should have to stand in line for hours simply to get a loaf of bread, or be terrified to go to the bathroom because there are rockets flying overhead. Surely you can agree that the aid workers need to be able to get back into Gaza because… but for the grace of God, that could be you or I.

I know that grapefruit cake is yummy, that I work with awesome people who put together amazing products with grace and style, and that I am looking forward to tomorrow.

It’s a blessing.

I suppose I should have seen it coming when the festival sponsor went from TCM to the new Peachtree TV network, but Screen on the Green is supposed to be old classic movies, not Big Momma’s House.

Seriously, I’m so disappointed. There’s not a single movie on this list that makes me want to carve out the date on my calendar, unlike Casablanca last year, Breakfast at Tiffany’s the year before, and Barefoot in the Park, The Sound of Music, and The Maltese Falcon in the years before that. If I wanted to see Chicago outdoors, I’d go to one of Star 94’s Movies Under the Stars promotions. Screen on the Green is supposed to be old timey classics, the kind of movie that would get an oblique reference on Gilmore Girls and wouldn’t necessarily attract the teeny-bopper crowd.

Because I just love SotG so much, I’m still planning to go (for now). Here’s the schedule for any Atlantans who are interested.

As I drove home Thursday evening, having just spent a good twenty minutes pressing the complex and heart-wrenching Atonement on my book club as our next assignment, I had to wonder if maybe I was taking this “adult” business a bit too seriously. After all, despite much evidence to the contrary, growing up doesn’t have to mean anguish and heartache around every corner.

So tonight Aisha and I went to see Enchanted, the new Disney movie about a cartoon character that suddenly finds herself in real live New York City. The first time I heard about the film, I dismissed it as a Roger Rabbit-wannabe I’d never watch, but after catching a full-length trailer I changed my mind and cajoled Aisha into ditching Kashif for the night and coming with me.

Patrick Dempsey and Amy Adams in Enchanted

It’s a movie that should have been rolling-your-eyes cheesy but was instead so endearing I couldn’t stop smiling, not when the roaches and rats swarmed into Robert’s apartment to clean it, or even when the six brides and grooms magically appeared and began dancing in formation in Central Park.

It’s predictable, of course. A little cliched. You should not think there isn’t an adorable motherless moppet because this is the kind of movie that demands one, nor should you be the tiniest bit surprised when the ballroom dancing begins. What kind of live-action Disney movie would this be without ballroom dancing?

But in spite of all those things, or possibly because of all those things, Enchanted is more full of joy than anything I’ve watched or read in a long time. It’s delightful. It’s exactly what an animated movie would be if it came to life in the middle of Manhattan.

I loved how everybody except the Amy Adams character knows something funny’s going on, but they’re all just too swept up in the magic — and again, it really does feel magical instead of contrived — to wonder why. And speaking of Amy Adams… while the Patrick Dempsey character could just as easily have been played by any other Hollywood pretty boy, Amy Adams is wholly responsible for making this film both lovable and believable. She IS the movie.

(James Marsden is all kinds of fantastic too. Of course he likes himself. What’s not to like? Although, really, just once I wish Marsden’s character could get the girl he sets out to get…)

Back in February, when I asked for book recommendations, this is what I meant. Something joyous. Something that would, in the end, fill me with gladness and make me believe, even if just for a little while, in hope and tomorrow and the idea that there is happily ever after.

Spiderman spoilers to follow.

There should be a book cataloguing all the phrases any self-respecting screenwriter should avoid except when being sardonic. Some lines are simply too cheesy to be used otherwise, and the punishment for violating this rule should be multiple consecutive Catwoman (or possibly Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever) viewings. Without bathroom breaks, or popcorn, even.

Before it came out, I was looking forward to the third Spiderman movie. The second one had been so good, and the third one had some delicious personal complications: the black suit, Harry’s revenge, Goblin junior. And then the reviews came out. They were… less than stellar, but I saw the movie anyway, partly because I wanted to judge for myself.

Oh, the brutality.

When a roving television reporter used those words to describe the Sandman pounding Spidey with a giant fist of sand (always conveniently available throughout the streets of New York), I stopped pretending that I wasn’t laughing behind my hand. There was no point in fighting a lost cause. Luckily Harry, formerly Goblin Jr., flew into his friend’s rescue, courtesy of a conveniently timed confession from his butler. Why the butler couldn’t have unburdened himself of that tidbit of knowledge earlir, we’ll never know.

Let us not forget the Sandman’s adorable moppet, wasting away from her loosely-defined illness. Or Harry’s noble sacrifice. Or Mary Jane’s star encore as the trap for Spiderman. (Seriously, HOW has nobody in that city figured it out yet? The bad guys were ALL OVER Superman just for looking at Lois Lane.) Or emo Spidey.It was almost as bad as that time Shahrukh Khan pulled an IV out of his body, checked himself out of a hospital, ran across Manhattan in the middle of the summer (cabs and subways are for losers, apparently) less than twenty-four hours after collapsing from exertion due to his rare and fatal heart condition, and the people he went to see did not even bother to ask him what he was doing out of the hospital or how he could possibly not be dead.
But things have reached a new low if we’re looking to BOLLYWOOD for realism. Oh the brutality, indeed.

(In all fairness, I will say Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, and James Franco did the best they could with the mediocre material they were given.)

That is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. I love the park at night and Heather and Casablanca and citronella candles and garlic-stuffed olives and bands who can’t cover U2 and balloons and running into random Augusta people and EVERYTHING. But not ants, especially if they’re going to eat my brownies.

I have another post in my head. It’s late, which matters as it’s somewhat timely, but I’m going to get over that and to the 3BT today because it’s Thursday and because I haven’t in a while and because thirty years ago this weekend, a movie changed the course of cinematic history.

If you think I don’t love Star Wars… you don’t really know me that well. So, today, three random things, possibly not even my three favorite things, about the original Star Wars movies.

1. The uneven dialogue plus the uneven acting. “Many Bothans… died to bring us this information.” Right, lady. It’s not a great line to work with, but you didn’t even try to sell it. And yet, despite all that, people (myself included) love these movies. They’re so incredibly flawed — the first three, at least; the second three are hopelessly beyond repair — but there’s still something magical about them that sucks you in, gets you to snicker when Leia calls Chewbacca a walking carpet, and keeps you glued to the screen for viewing after viewing.

2. “I know.” Legend has it that Harrison Ford, notorious for flying by the seat of his pants, ad-libbed this Empire Strikes Back line during one of the takes, and it worked so well they incorporated it into the final cut. It’s perfectly in keeping with the Han Solo the smuggler, Han Solo the pirate, who wouldn’t be likely to announce (especially in front of the enemy) that he loved Princess Leia even if it was pretty obvious that he did.

3. The pop culture impact. Han Solo shot first. The odds of successfully navigating an asteroid field are approximately 3,720 to 1. Princess Leia is not, nor will she ever be, a committee. And of course, Darth Vader is your father (which means we’ll forget about the time that you kissed your sister).
May the Force be with y’all.

I’ve had several posts in my head over the last week, but I haven’t actually written any of them out to completion, partly because of work and partly because of carpal tunnel and partly because I’ve simply haven’t had time to write things down lately.

I had a piece half written about World Refugee Day and the exclusive interview Angelina Jolie, superstar extraordinaire, UNCHR Goodwill Ambassador, and new mom, offered Anderson Cooper, except that happened almost a week ago, and I haven’t watched it yet. The original airing I missed because the Mavs/Heat game was on (and as an aside, I’m so disappointed by the outcome of that game) and mostly because I don’t want to be up as late as the show was going to run. I figured I’d catch it in more manageable doses, at a more manageable time, the next day, or some other time whenever it was repackaged as a CNN Presents piece.

But I believe Anderson Cooper when he says the focus of the interview will be on African refugees because I don’t think Angelina Jolie would do it any other way. It’s actually the reason I’m even planning on watching a celebrity interview because I don’t really care how much hair Shiloh has on her head, or what color her eyes are, but I do care about the message Angelina Jolie is trying to spread.

Cat as Cat and Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly in the classic movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Thursday, Heather and I went to see Breakfast at Tiffany’s at Screen on the Green. It was my first time back at SotG since The Sound of Music with Aisha and Sadia a few years ago. Some things are still the same as they were then, but the high-backed chairs have gotten better even if the smoking hasn’t. Also, Heather and I arrived later than normal, so we got a spot on the hill rather than right smack up in the front. I think I actually prefer the hill now that I’ve done both.

I had never before seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s, despite having it on my list for a while now. I loved it, even though I kept wanting to tell Fred (or Paul, but like Holly, I can only call him Fred) that he couldn’t keep fixing Holly’s problems, that he couldn’t keep taking care of her and making it all better because she had to do those things for herself. I know things were different in the sixties, which is why I can accept it in a movie, but I know if I saw the same thing in a film set in modern times, I’d be pretty upset. As it is, the movie was beautiful and romantic and classic and all of that, but it also made my heart hurt just a little.

Friday was a lot of back and forth to the Georgia Aquarium for corporate-type, work-related things. They bused us over in the morning, but Carlos and I decided to walk back because we apparently need to have our heads examined. It was so hot and muggy that even the short five-minute walk left us sweat, so of course that meant I worried the entire rest of the day that I smelled. When it was time to go again, the sky had clouded over and there were actual drops of rain, so it wasn’t quite so bad going or coming, and I did love both opportunities to see the fish (hi, whale sharks, and we missed you, Gasper!) without smacking somebody in the face. Oh, and there was ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.

Saturday, I had an engagement party. (My entire office finds no end of amusement in how many engagement parties and weddings I attend, especially as they usually coincide with some upgrade or another that we’ve got scheduled.) I decided at the last minute not to wear the clothes I’d had set aside for weeks and doing a sari instead, which meant first I had to find a sari that had a blouse in my size, and then I had to go to the fabric store to find matching material for a scarf, and then I had to do it all over again when the store didn’t have the right material in the right color. Now, looking back, I wish I’d gone with a shalwar kameez after all.

I think I’m off saris for a while. Actually, I’ve been off saris for a while already, but on Saturday I thought perhaps I was ready to end that streak, and it turns out I’m not, really. I’m just having the hardest time finding blouses and scarves to go with all of my mother’s fancy saris, and my fancy saris that I brought back, blouses sewn, from India are too fancy for just any event. It would help if I had a reliable tailor to make blouses for me in Atlanta. I do have a reliable tailor — an awesome reliable tailor I recommend to everyone who needs alterations or whole outfits made — but that particular shop is American, and for sari blouses, I need somebody Indian. Not desi — Indian. They know their way around a shalwar, but Pakistanis just cannot make good sari blouses.

Landon Donovan after the U.S. lost to Ghana in the 2006 World Cup

In between, I have been watching a lot of the World Cup, the American games in particular. The match against Ghana was painful, especially towards the end as it became more and more obvious that we were not going to get the win we needed to advance to the quarterfinals even though Italy was holding up their end by beating the Czechs. And I know a team that only scores one goal in four matches doesn’t really deserve to advance, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t roll my eyes as the Ghana team flopped all over the pitch on Thursday. The stretcher team got a nice workout, running back and forth onto the field every time yet another Ghana player lay moaning on the ground.

But no, I’m not bitter.

Really, I’m not. We probably should have won that game, but if we wanted to advance, we should have shown up against the Czechs in the first place.

If you want bitter, get me started on the Braves this season. Or, for all our sakes, don’t.

There are some blogs brewing in my head, but I haven’t had a chance to flesh them out yet, so here’s a quick-and-dirty one to fill space until my thoughts clear. (Too much to think about these days, non-linearly as always, which isn’t necessarily conducive to speed.)

I can’t remember the last movie I saw in the theater. There simply hasn’t been much out that I’ve wanted to see, although I do have one or two in the queue (notably Thank You For Smoking and American Dreamz). Now the summer movie season is a mere few weeks away, which means filtering through the hype to figure out exactly which potential blockbusters I’m actually interested in.

Of COURSE the poster is his face.

Mission Impossible III (May 5): When this film’s two predecessors were released, I knew they were overhyped, but I went to see them anyway, like a mosquito that knows the bug zapper is a Portal of Doom yet flies into it anyway. But this time, this time I am truly torn.

On the one hand, I have actors whose work I like, such as Laurence Fishburne and Keri Russell, and I have J.J. Abrams, who may have let Alias devolve into a rapid vortex of suck the last two years, but who seems to have redeemed himself a little last week and who at least created the originally awesome show to begin with.

On the other hand, I have crazy Tom Cruise, who has been known to jump on couches and whose child was “coincidentally” “born” mere days before the premiere of his new movie and who could not help himself of buying into the grand celebrity tradition of kooky names. Perhaps if he’d named her “Sarah” instead of “Suri” I might be rolling my eyes less. Goodness knows I certainly couldn’t roll them any more.

So the question is — do I go see a movie I’m pretty sure will be nowhere near as good as it claims to be (nor anywhere near as good as it could be) despite crazy Tom Cruise? Or do I run as fast and as far away from the encroaching Scientology as possible?

The DaVinci Code (May 19): And speaking of overhyped, Dan Brown’s book was the most over-exposed bit of fiction since The Firm. It was a page-turner. A thriller. Period, end of statement, finito. And as that, it was perfectly entertaining, but let’s not pretend it was on the same level as The Interpreter of Maladies.

But, like the Grisham books and the Jack Ryan novels, The DaVinci Code was made to be a movie. Add Tom Hanks, Audrey Tautou (of the delightful Amelie) and Ron Howard, and you have me looking for the sign-up sheet. If it’s not good, I won’t be terribly disappointed because I don’t really care much either way. I suppose it helps that I’m not Roman Catholic, but there have been enough unflattering movies made about Muslims that the religious tempest is simply not making my radar.

Aww, Wolverine, it’s good to see you.

X-Men: The Last Stand (May 26): Notice how they’ve dropped the “3″ from the movie title, as originally this was supposed to be the last of a trilogy, but the new buzz claims they’re not done with this franchise yet. I wish they would have stuck to the trilogy idea. It’s easier to make good movies when you know you’ve got a finite set to work with, and I’m afraid they’re going to sacrifice quality for quantity in the end.

This is the first X-Men movie with new director Brett Ratner, enemy of fanboys everywhere, and that might not be a good sign. I’m going to withhold judgement until I see the movie, but for now, you have to admit they’ve at least done a stunning job with the ad campaign.

I know nothing of the comics, so I’m unfamiliar with Pheonix, but I’m looking forward to seeing how they weave her into the story. The positive thing about the previous two X-Men movies is that they’ve managed to balance the special effects with a story, so I hope Ratner doesn’t go all Chris Columbus on us. If I wanted to see a special effects extravaganza, I’d watch one of the Star Wars prequels.

Cars (June 9): I have not the words to express how much I loved The Incredibles, although I did make a feeble attempt. Really, Pixar hasn’t gone wrong yet, so Cars is a safe bet to be full of punny goodness.

The “all-star cast” is too tiny to see.

A Prairie Home Companion (June 9): I like the idea of PHC, but I have to admit, to myself and to the Internet, that part of the draw here is Lindsay Lohan, who I have a fondness for because I loved, loved, loved her in the remake of The Parent Trap, where she was just too cute for words. It makes me sad to see her headlining Defamer, and not in a good way. (As if there were a good way to headline Defamer.) It doesn’t hurt that I’m a fan of Robert Altman’s previous work either, or that I generally expect a Garrison Keiller project to be enjoyable, and to come equipped with a nice flair, too.

The Devil Wears Prada (June 30): I know I go on and on (and on and on) about how much I loathed the book. I did loathe the book. If I had to choose between using a copy of that book or the heel of my shoe to kill a cockroach, I’d choose the book with no qualms or regrets.

However. It might actually make a good movie, given the right casting and the right direction. The casting part they appear to have down; I have no doubt Meryl Streep will make an amazing Miranda Priestly, and Anne Hathaway (who is in my good books for being a cute little starlet who has yet to grace the Defamer servers and who was even content to sit back and let her Brokeback Mountain costars get all the accolades for the movie) may even be able to sell the insipid protagonist whose name I have blocked from my memory. (I think it’s been changed for the movie, which is no end of funny to me.)

If they do it right, the movie will provide the missing “show” part of the story. It will fill in the blanks and flesh out the characters. It will make me actually care what happens to these people. If they do it right.

But even if they do it right, do I want to go see a movie that might actually be entertaining and funny if it means adding to the coffers of that hack Lauren Weisberger?

Is this not the most beautiful film poster you’ve seen all year?

Superman Returns (June 30): Ah, the big one. Superman Returns. Y’all know about my teeny-tiny (read: all-consuming) love for Superman, right?

I have been excited about this movie since they finally fired Nicholas Cage. (His dramatic abilities aside, Nic Cage is not and never will be Clark Kent or Superman.) I don’t know if they’re going to do it right. If they don’t, I’ll probably be crushed, like the Tolkein fans who came out of The Two Towers complaining that the elves don’t show up at Helm’s Deep.

For me, there are two keys to a good Superman story: how they portray Lois Lane, and how they portray Clark Kent. Is Lois all hardcore and feminist, a journalist and nothing more? (No.) Is Clark a bumbling, incompetent dork? (No.) Does she have too much edge for it to be believable that Clark loves her? (She shouldn’t.) Is Clark the real person, or is Superman? (Clark.)

Kate Bosworth worries me. So does Brandon Routh, a little, because I’m afraid they cast him more for how perfectly he looks the part than for his acting abilities, but since I’ve never seen him in anything, I shouldn’t really say.

It doesn’t really matter though, because if I go to only one movie all summer, it’s going to be this one. I may come out of it raging, but I’ll go see it. It’s Superman. I simply couldn’t stay away.

On another note, it’s interesting to see how many September 11 movies are waiting in the wings this year: Giuliani Time, United 93, World Trade Center, and The Road to Guantanamo. I’m curious to see how they’ll be received, whether people will go to see them, and how many of them are going to get it right. (For the record, my money is NOT on World Trade Center.)

Y’all know the drill… if you’re tagged, you gotta do it, especially if you’re just sitting up waiting until it’s time for you to take your parasite pills, so here it goes:
Four Jobs I’ve Had in My Life…

Receptionist/secretary/assistant in a doctor’s office
News editor at the Technique
TA for the introductory CS classes at the CoC
The one I have now that I don’t want to elaborate on too much

	Like they say on TNT, the original is still the best (well, except for Empire, but I’m going to blur the line between the original movies, up until the point they leave Tatooine in Jedi

Four Movies I Could Watch Over and Over, and Have

Star Wars
Bend It Like Beckham
The Sound of Music
The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Four Places I Have Lived

Chicago
Houston
Augusta, GA
Atlanta

Four TV Shows I Love To Watch

Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Gilmore Girls
Veronica Mars
Grey’s Anatomy

I am such a girl.

Four Places I Have Been On Vacation

Mumbai, India
Gatlinburg, Tennessee
Disney World!
Ft. Lauderdale, Florida

Four Books I Love

Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
The High King by Lloyd Alexander
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J. K. Rowling

This was a hard one; how do you pick just four? Most of these are one of a series, and I would have put the whole series if I could. Instead, I put either my favorite of the series or the reason I found the series in the first place. Also, religious books were not eligible as that wouldn’t be a fair fight!

Four Websites I Visit Daily

CNN
Television Without Pity
the BBC
My friends and strangers

Four Favorite Foods

Fish biryani with eggplant raita
Curry — not what most westerners consider curry, but the creamy yellow sauce that desi people call curry
Chicago-style deep dish pizza
Ice cream

Four Places I Would Rather Be Right Now

Mumbai: At the moment I am going through a horrible bout of homesickness for a place that isn’t technically even my home.
San Francisco: It’s beautiful and there are people I want to visit.
Medina: I love it so much the only reason I could bear to leave was because I was going to Mecca for the first time.
Spain: I want to see it!
Italy: Ditto!

Nowhere. East, west, hame’s best. Yes, I know that’s more than four.