So many good movies are up for awards it's really amazing. Hollywood, and the movie industry looked in the mirror and said, if we don't get our shit together we're going the way of radio, books written by white guys, and that Blockbuster that Quentin Tarantino used to work at. There are probably 3-5 movies that are worthy of Best Picture. Oppenheimer for sure, and Maestro - both of a type, labors of love by powerful Hollywood craftspeople with the charm and craft to pull off something of world-tilting scale and caliber. Barbie of course which gets an A for cultural phenomena, spectacle and and social commentary. And then there are the less well-endowed entries, that we are working our way through now. The Holdovers - seen, and liked. Can't believe I'm old enough to know when someone is knocking off the '60s and giving it a millennial bent, for cool's sake. It's like back in the 70's when they did The Sting and all of the guys supposedly from the 30's had wide 70's collars. All the kids the Holdovers looked like cool gen Z kids. Everyone sees other times through the lens of their time. We can't help it. We see other people through the lens of our own experience. Wbich was pretty much the theme of the movie, now that I think about it. The movie was solid, and touching - with a human question at its core – when we make assumptions about other people, well, again, maybe we're justing seeing them through our own inescapable lens. Compassion is the most noble of all human emotions and this holds true for all time and all peeps.
We watched Anatomy of a Fall over the last two nights. It's nice that it got a nomination and it's a good story but is it a great movie? It's so intimate, in a way, that I can't believe anyone likes it but me. After hearing the premise, I wasn't sure that even I would find it interesting. But it had it's own procedural momentum and the narrative had it's own Columbia-paced irresistible force.We watched it over two nights. With the subject being a writer, and how a biographical-based writer might create their reality as if they were writing a book, the writerly-ness of the narrative made sense. I loved how the arc of the story brought it back to the blind son, because he was the only person equipped and knowledgeable enough to know both of the people involved, and to make a decision. It had to be him. In the end, it was his story, he was the writer. And justice really was really partially blind. As a personal side note, I really related to the Dad, and why he killed himself. Frustrated writer and suicidal codependent that I am. Took a few days to get over that. It was also interesting to see
Too much information?
I gotta step out and get a colonoscopy.
So the colonoscopy went like shit. I didn't start the clean out early enough and the results were inconclusive. If I thought the movie was making me neurotic, I was absolutely losing it after I realized that I'd taken a day off, shit-canned a work meeting that I should be rights be the lead on, done all of this effort eating the SuTab, spent $1500 of money we don't have right now, etc. And all for nothing. I could blame it on the people - everything is really not-human right now and no one spoke to me in person about the procedure, but nowadays we really need to advocate for ourselves. That is, if we can get anyone on the phone. Otherwise, idk kids, maybe we do give our kids the hint that they'll have to get by without us and take a little walk out the 4th story window.
Tried to go to see American Fiction last night, but I was having a tough time staying in the theatre. I really wish I could be a normal person, but literally what the fuck is wrong with people? I'm sitting in front of some weird boomer couple, kicking my chair like a 12 year old, stuffing her face with popcorn and then talking. Why do people go to the theatre to eat? Are we all children? What is going on?
So we came home and watched Fremont - a cute little movie about an Afgan emigre, a former interpreter who works at a Chinese Fortune Cookie factory and ends up writing the future cookie messages. Shot in black and white, there's a bit of a deadpan Wes Anderson "we're-making-a-movie-here" sensibility to the framing and delivery. Really fun. Jeremy Allen White makes an appearance. It's not revealed which brand of underwear he has on.
And last night we watched Past Lives. Again, a nice little movie. Again, with it's subject being a writer, there's a writerly-ness to it all. It's good that the Korean vibe has moved past John Woo style action to creating actually story. A nice movie. Not Best Picture material, but a I'll remember it for at least a month to 6 weeks.