Watching Movies with a Film Major Means Actually Watching Movies

It's been a while, but I promise I've been working on this post a little every day. Over the past two weeks (basically between my last post on the 4th and when I returned to school on Saturday), I've given in to John's not-so-subtle suggestions that we "watch a movie," meaning we start watching movies and don't stop until we pass out. I was trying to finish knitting a scarf for him before I came back to school (finally, after watching me nearly break down under the pressure, John told me to make it a Valentine's gift and give myself a break), so of course I agreed to being distracted enough that I didn't notice the cramps in my fingers as I spent two hours or so per film looking back and forth between the screen and the yarn. These are the films we watched during the two weeks between my last post and my return to Austin (with both the Wikipedia links and the IMDb links included):

• Hot Fuzz. I love these guys; Shaun of the Dead is the only zombie movie I've seen that A) doesn't give me nightmares, and B) even presents the opportunity to laugh out loud. With Hot Fuzz, they once again gave me exactly what I wanted: a plot and plenty of comedy. Simon Pegg and Nick Frost work amazingly together (understandable, since they've apparently been friends since forever), and Edgar Wright's direction is wonderful (I love those quick cut montages). Very funny, kept me on the edge of my seat (all of a sudden, the plot got twisted); Hot Fuzz gets my stamp of approval.
  


• Knocked Up. John had been trying to get me to watch Knocked Up for a while now, and I finally gave in. Ok, so, Seth Rogen, nice Jewish boy; I totally approve of that. His humor is a bit too deadpan for me (which is perhaps a comment I should have saved for the next movie), but that's not the problem. The problem here is the lack of plot depth. Slacker guy has one-night stand with career-driven woman. Woman gets pregnant. Guy worries he's not mature enough for a baby. Guy becomes mature. Baby is born. The end. Basically, actual plot development (meaning: any lines or actions that actually moved the story along) took up maybe fifteen minutes of the film, and the rest was all dry humor. Hooray for dry humor; Boo for lack of story depth.
  


• Funny People. My biggest problem with Funny People was that it wasn't funny. It seemed as though no one knew which way the movie should go, so it just went everywhere (a film doesn't need four plots, it just doesn't). The "love story" was completely useless (an excuse for Apatow to include his wife and kids). No one evolved during the course of the film, and when stasis is restored at the conclusion, the only thing that's changed since the beginning is that Adam Sandler's character and Seth Rogen's character are now friends. It was kind of a nice change, however, to see Adam Sandler not trying to be ridiculously funny.
  


• The Invention of Lying. There was a major plot-hole in The Invention of Lying, namely: yes, everything everyone says is the truth, but why do they say everything that's on their minds? The fact that no one has any self-control was not posed as the premise at the start of the film, so why does everyone say everything that crosses their thoughts? Also, at the moment when Ricky Gervais's character invents heaven, I did not expect for the entire movie to only focus on religion until the end. I was completely taken out because the afterlife took over the love story and all other personal struggles the lead character was having. Also, how does his brain not explode when trying to explain how he said, quote, something that wasn't? In a world where that concept doesn't exist and can't be comprehended, one would think that the effort of trying to describe what he's done would make him go crazy. The only way I can calm myself over the holes in this film is to remind myself that it is only a movie. And, to redeem this film: it does have some cute jokes. Unfortunately, I'm sick of Jennifer Garner and have been since Juno.
  


• Tombstone. Tombstone is my favorite movie that is classified as a Western, and I insisted we watch it. I can sum up why in two words: Doc Holliday. Val Kilmer kills in this role (sometimes literally), and at the end of this post, you can find a list of reasons why. The rest of the cast is also quite good, and I enjoy movies based on actual events, so this retelling of the story of the Earp brothers and the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral is able to do what many movies can't: hold my attention. Most of what I love about this movie can be found in the list of reasons I love Kilmer's performance, but here's the thing that bugs me the most: the relationship between Wyatt and Josephine. I realize the audience is supposed to be rooting for this, and that it's historically accurate-ish, but I'm still pretty against a man straight up and leaving his wife for another woman. This seems like the kind of thing Hollywood might sanitize. But, as the link above shows, it happened, and I can't argue with history.
  


• Little Miss Sunshine. The first time I saw Little Miss Sunshine, I didn't get a chance to watch the last half hour or so, so I suggested we watch it, having liked what I had seen enough to want to know how it ends. After which, I felt that leaving off where I had the first time would have been fine, considering that the last bit of the movie is, while the whole reason for the rest of the film existing, just kind of silly/depressing. I do, however, feel that all of the characters (perhaps with the exception of Olive) are well designed, and especially enjoyed the characters portrayed by Steve Carell and Paul Dano (and Alan Arkin, but now I've singled out half of the cast, which isn't singling at all). The overall plot really doesn't matter as much as each of the characters' inner struggles, but I believe that this movie is able to pull it off, having such tortured characters. I almost cry when Dwayne realizes he can't fly, but it's not rare for me to cry during some point of most movies. John says I'm a sap, and perhaps I am, but when Dwayne runs down that hill yelling "F*ck!" with all the feeling he has, well, that's enough to make anyone emotional.
  


• Grosse Pointe Blank. Let me sum up Grosse Pointe Blank real fast for you: Professional hitman goes back to hometown for high school reunion, hilarity ensues. That's basically it. Some people you don't really care about die, he saves some people, he gets the girl. Other than the fact that there are too many Cusacks in this film, not much really happens story-wise. John swears this movie is good, but I guess it's just not my cup of tea. Joan Cusack has some witty lines, but she's not in enough of the movie for it to make a difference.
  


• Robin Hood. I'm talking about the "MERRY MENagerie," 1973 Disney Robin Hood. You can find this whole movie, separated into ten-minute segments, on YouTube. It's one of my favorite old school animated Disney movies, and I think Phil Harris should have stuck with the trend he created with Robin Hood and The Jungle Book and continued to voice cool-headed bears, because he's just so good at it. I was surprised to find while watching the opening credits that my film major fiance didn't know who Peter Ustinov was, but other than that "How do you not know Peter Ustinov?!"/"I've never heard of Peter Ustinov" back-and-forth, we had a good time watching the movie, because it's a good movie and therefore is responsible for good times. And you know the baby bunny is the cutest thing you've ever seen. Interesting tidbit: My iPod Shuffle, because it looks like a snake head from the side, is named (because you're supposed to name them) "Sir Hiss (a snake)" after the way Prince John's adviser is listed in the opening credits.
  


• Casablanca. The classic of classics. I was lucky enough last school year to see Casablanca on the big screen at the theater in the student union (John's super jealous), and Ingrid Bergman's skin is, dare I say, even more flawless when her face is ten feet across (thank you, Max Factor). Bogie plays, of course, the typical Bogie character, Rick, and is marvelous ("Have you taken leave of your senses?" "I have. Sit down over there.") There is a token black character who is overly obedient, because this is the time period for that sort of thing (not that I condone that necessarily). And this film is responsible for at least half a dozen of the most quoted lines in Hollywood history. Also, *gasp* the leading male doesn't wind up with the leading female in the end, which I think ties this movie off nicely as being awesome. I love black and white films, because folks knew how to make movies back in the day. Also, this is one of John's all-time favorite movies, so the two of us had to watch it together at some point.
  


• Play It Again, Sam. Woody Allen's answer to Casablanca, John insisted on watching Play It Again, Sam as a follow-up to the 1942 classic. (I, in turn, insisted on saying "Oy" anytime something especially "Jewy" was said, a trend I continued for Fiddler on the Roof and The Hebrew Hammer, and with which I can get away being "blessed" with both a Jewier-than-thou name and a genuine Jewfro.) This film was hysterically funny at points and terribly depressing at others, which I'm finding pretty much sums up Woody Allen in a nutshell. I'm going to recommend this movie simply (but not completely) for the brief encounter Allen has with a girl at the art museum, because this exchange includes the lines "What are you doing Saturday night?" "Committing suicide." "What about Friday night?" Ah, comedy. Also, Diane Keaton is young. Also, the action, other than repeating that this is Allen's reaction to Casabanca, is hard to describe in a short space, so just watch it.
  


• Pineapple Express. *breathe* I think I may have watched too many Seth Rogen movies in too short of a period of time. As far as stoner movies go, Pineapple Express isn't too bad, although as I watched it, I was reminded heavily of Superbad, what with all the running around town engaging in crazy shenanigans; similar shenanigans (and this is my point) to those in Superbad. I'm not saying they're exactly the same or anything like that, but it's obvious that a handful of the same folks were involved in both films. The fact that the B plot with the main character's girlfriend never achieved stasis bothered me a little, the final scene in the diner was a total waste of time (they didn't even eat their food), and the obvious result of a warehouse full of marijuana blowing up in a fiery explosion (all survivors being higher than flippin' kites) didn't appear to occur, disappointing both our friend Emily and myself, who were looking forward to it. But, as I said above, it wasn't too bad for a stoner movie, and that's definitely saying something.
  


• Spaceballs. I requested we watch these next three movies. John readily agreed to watch Spaceballs, mostly because it's a Mel Brooks film, but also because it's awesome. Then, of course, we looked it up on IMDb and I couldn't watch A League of Their Own a couple of days later without thinking about Bob Hinson being Lone Starr (I've always kept the two movies completely separate in my mind, because there's no reason not to). This movie is hilarious, in that Mel Brooks kind of way, and John Candy is good-looking, even as a Mog (half-man, half-dog). I asked why Han Solo and Luke Skywalker were combined into one for Lone Starr (obviously it's just easier that way), and other than that we just sat and laughed, because that's what you do when you watch Mel Brooks. Unless you're my ex, who has no sense of humor. Oh, and we had a brief conversation about how little kids think that movie scenes are filmed in the order we watch them (the scene where Dark Helmet watches the movie so far prompted this) and how untrue that tends to be.
  


• The New Guy. When The New Guy came out on video, Blockbuster still had late fees, and New Releases could only be rented for two days. So I spent two wonderful days of 2002 watching this movie nine freakin' times. John, when I requested we watch it, rolled his eyes, but I didn't feel well, so he agreed. I proceeded to 'ssh' him when he spoke and give useless background information about the actors. As much as I love watching this movie, I have to admit that I know it's a pretty stupid film. But it's fun, has a plot with a coming-of-age theme, and has a lot of big names making appearances (like Gene Simmons, Tommy Lee, and Tony Hawk, plus others), so it's also totally watchable. And that's good enough for me.
  


• Fiddler on the Roof. So classic. And since I took Musical Theatre History this past semester, I remembered how much I like Fiddler on the Roof, and since John had never seen it, it had to be watched. I cried and laughed and said "Oy" and sang along, and John (although he promises he didn't) napped though the first half hour or so. Then once the story started getting interesting, he actually started watching. And when Tevye didn't accept Chava's marriage to Fyedka, John couldn't believe it, so that was kind of great, because it meant all my talk about the musical hadn't completely ruined the story for him before he had a chance to watch it. He also enjoyed the fact that the director's last name is Jewison. He liked it well enough (and I always love watching it), but he felt he had to respond with...
  


• The Hebrew Hammer. I was a little skeptical at first, but I love Jewish humor, and this Jewish spoof on Blaxploitation films was a laugh a minute for me once I got into it. The Hebrew Hammer got me to stop the "Oy" game pretty quickly, or I wouldn't have gotten to hear most of the movie. In this film, the Hebrew Hammer, a "Certified Circumcised Dick," is hired to stop the new Santa Claus (played by another Dick, namely Andy) from ending Chanukah forever. In the end, to save the holiday and the girl, he employs the most powerful Jewish weapon available: Jewish guilt (the moment he started kvetching, I started cracking up). Playing on every stereotype in the book, this film, made mostly by Jews (otherwise it'd be offensive, right?), was, I think, a good call on John's part to counteract the sadness of Fiddler on the Roof and end the night off with a smile.
  

• A League of Their Own. Next to Monty Python and the Holy Grail, A League of Their Own is my favorite movie ever (meaning that it's my second favorite movie, but that doesn't sound as dramatic). Here's why: 1) It's a baseball movie. 2) It's a feminist movie. 3) Tom Hanks is the leading male. 4) It's f*cking awesome. I've seen this movie more times than most American grandparents have seen their grandchildren. I was making chili while we were watching it, and I found myself absentmindedly quoting along, because I just know it that well. I have informed John, my brother, and my mother that the song played at the beginning, "Now and Forever," is to be played at my funeral, as long as people like me enough when I die to have it played. The casting is great, but I think the most amazing part of the casting is that all of the older versions of the characters are played not by the main actors in old-age makeup but by senior citizens who not only look just like what Geena Davis, Lori Petty, Madonna, etc. will look like when they are older, but also by people who can act. How hard was it to find these people? I'm guessing pretty hard. Aside from the story, the acting, and the historical value (all of which I love), the ending credits are pretty cool. Not only do we watch these older women playing baseball, but the way characters are listed is like a team roster (in fact, the words "Cast Roster" appear immediately before they start rolling). Also, Madonna performs the song that plays during the ending credits, which always reminds me of Alanis Morissette in Dogma. I love A League of Their Own, and if you like baseball movies, are a feminist, or have a heartbeat, you should see it.
  

Tombstone, while not (quite) on my list of favorite movies, contains probably my favorite movie character of all time. Here is a list of reasons why Val Kilmer's "Doc Holliday" rocks out loud in twelve different languages (I realize that many of these are partially thanks to the writer or director, but Kilmer really sells the role):

1. Every line the man says is a quotable one-liner.
2. Doc never says anything that doesn't need to be said.
3. He's dying of tuberculosis, and he doesn't give a f*ck!
4. He's shacking up with a Hungarian whore.
5. He's super-quick on the draw with incredible aim.
6. He has awesome facial hair.
7. He's played by skinny Kilmer.
   
8. He's nice to everyone, even people he hates.
9. He doesn't allow himself to die while Wyatt is in the room (he is the master of death!).
10. He's your huckleberry.
    

Also, I'm back at school now, and I miss John something awful, so I'm listening to "Origin of Love" from Hedwig and the Angry Inch over and over again. It's super cathartic.




My mom went home today (Monday), but I wasn't there, being here and all. Now I have class in the morning and need to sleep, so I'll talk to y'all soon. Bye!