Category: movies

Ten years later. Beautiful.

I love Roger Ebert, miss hearing the sound of his voice, but thank God, his other voice is still with us.

Oh, Lord. Don’t know if I’m up for it. The night Hollywood gets all slobbery and makes out with itself for 7.43 hours. We’ll see how I do. If it’s half a post, it’s half a post. Whatevs. I’m crabby tonight, so this will be interesting. Or not.

~ Hellloooo, Hugh Jackman. Always a good start. Please sing You Are My Sunshine whilst taking off your shirt. No, I respect you, I promise. Ready, go.

~ Oh, he’s doing an opening number. Hahaha. Well, he’s a song and dance man. (The Boy from Oz, anyone?) They have all these cheesy grade school sets — we’re in a recession, you know — for his songs about the Best Picture nominees. I mean, these sets are pointedly meant to look like kiddie sets, makeshift sets. It’s so counterintuitive and wonky. Anti-glitz. Haha. They just wheel them out and Hugh sings, all adorable and insane. At one point, he carries Anne Hathaway onto the stage in his arms to do a “Frost/Nixon” ditty sitting in lawn chairs. I cannot even describe the insanity of this whole bit. Moments later, he dances with a bunch of dudes in unitards and sings, “The Reader. I still haven’t seen The Reader. I still need to see The Reader.” Uhm, it’s manic and incomprehensible and surreal and I love it. Best opening number in a long time.

~ Uh-oh. Glitch with a curtain. You can actually hear a frantic male voice saying, “Steeeve, OPEN IT!!” Hahahahaha. Stuck on a kiddie set, I’m sure.

~ Best Supporting Actress coming up. I hope for Marisa Tomei for The Wrestler. I think it will be Penelope Cruz for Vicky Christina Barcelona.

Yup. Penelope Cruz, who, damn, looks amazing. What a gown. Love it. All ruched and vintage-y looking. However, her speech is a bore.

~ Tina Fey and Steve Martin for Best Original Screenplay. Martin says, “A writer once wrote, ‘To write is to live forever’ …. that man is dead.” Can’t beat Steve Martin, can you?

Uhm, okay. Look. I’m trying to write this AND make dinner. So Milk won. Fine. Speech blah blah. Gets political. Yadda yadda. I’m sorry. Not the venue for this. Move on, Slappy.

~ Tina and Steve are still presenting now for Best Adapted Screenplay. There is a pause between them and Steve looks at her and scolds, “DON’T fall in love with me.” Too late, Steve Martin!

~ Best Adapted? I was stirring something in a big ol’ pot. Slumdog Millionaire, I hear.

~ Jennifer Aniston gets to present with Jack Black. Brad and Angelina are in the front row, right below her and it’s awkward as ass. Oh. And the camera pans DOWN to them and the fake smiles plastered on their faces. Cheesy move, camera man.

~ WALL-E wins Best Animated Picture. The winner thanks his high school drama teacher for casting him in “Hello Dolly” years ago. Best speech so far.

~ Oh, back to Brad and Angie for another second of titillation while Jen stands there.

~ Okay. The winner of Best Animated Short is a little Japanese dude. He says, “SANK YOU to (whomever) and SANK YOU to (someone else) and SANK YOU to (yet another).” Then he says, “Domo arigato, Mister Roboto” and leaves the stage. Okay. Now THAT was the best speech. Hahahahah. SANK YOU, Japanese dude.

~ Ooooh, Hugh is back. Please sing to me, Pappy.

~ Sarah Jessica Parker and Daniel Craig for Art Direction. Yamahama!! Where did SJP get those massive mamms??? They are literally tumbling out of her dress. A tsunami of cleavage. Best Art Direction of Boobins, for sure. Oh, Benjy Buttonheimer wins.

~ Best Costume, The Duchess.

~ Best Makeup, duh, for making Brad Pitt look better, it’s Benny and the Butts again.

~ Attention, sarahk! It’s Edward! Presenting! Edward Cullen! Does he have a real name. Trace? Uhm. No, no, he does not. I have objectified him completely and I will continue to do so until he decides to show me there’s more going on there. Sorry, Peaches. You just stand there and act the pretty pretty pony. I have no idea what he’s presenting here other than some homage to his own gorgeousness. Oh, okay. Some montage about, yawwn, love. Oh, THAT.

~ Ben Stiller And Natalie Portman. He’s wearing the Joaquin-Phoenix-on-David-Letterman beard. Hahaha. She busts him for chewing gum at the Oscars. Ohh, uhhh, okay. He takes it out of his mouth, sticks in under the podium. He is totally not paying attention, like Joaquin. The audience is dying. She keeps talking, presenting, and he wanders around aimlessly.

~ Finally, they announce the winner for Best Cinematography — Slumdog Millionaire.

~ Is that movie really THAT good? I mean, I haven’t seen it and I already feel sick of it. Basically, tonight, I am still bitter about Gran Torino, in every way. Which, well, I suppose in many — uh, most — ways is the total opposite of Slumdog Millionaire. Not PC. Still. Actor, Director, Picture — these would have been valid nominations. But nope.

~ Jessica Biel. What the hell is she wearing? It’s like a satin towel that she oh-so-casually threw over herself after stepping out of the shower. It’s draping down her chest in a truly weird and poofy way. She talks about … I dunno … the dude who invented raisins. I don’t know! I seriously was not listening to her. I can’t decide if I feel bad for her that she’s wearing a satin towel or jealous of her that she has satin towels. I decide jealous is less condescending. Oh, look. The camera pans over to the little shriveled man who invented raisins. Oh, I see. Perhaps he was his own inspiration.

~ (Please do not ask if I’m serious about the raisin thing, okay?)

~ Best Live Action Short. Oh, please. Move this category to Technical Night, i.e., the awards we don’t ever see or care about. So I’m gonna go eat something. Not raisins. Oh, wait. Here’s how Seth Rogan says the winner: “Sveigelshwandheigelschweimer.”

~ Phew. I’m exhausted. I just got up to stretch and eat and do a spontaneous interpretive dance to this cello solo in a car commercial. I called it Ode to My Angst About Fetishes and Buttons and Raisins. I really don’t know why I’m talking about it. I mean, you didn’t see it, but it made MB very happy. It had a certain je ne sais quoi, is all I’m saying.

~ Oooh, Hugh is singing again. Surprise! Here’s Beyonce, singing with him. (You know, I’m starting to get a little weary of her too.) They’re doing a medley of songs from movie musicals, I guess. Oh, now here’s the couple from High School Musical and the couple from Mama Mia. The whole medley involves these poor people singing maybe 10 seconds of a song before they’re forced to move to another: “At laaaaaaast …. I’m putting on my top haaa ….. mama mia, here I …. if happy little blue …. somehow, someday, somewhhhhere!!!” Good Lord. It’s “Tourette’s, The Musical.”

~ Best Supporting Actor. Is there really any suspense or question on this? Heath Ledger will win. I think there might be some equally deserving performances, but Heath will win, for sure. He was great, no doubt. They’re dragging these categories out, btw. The acting categories. Bringing back five previous winners in the category and each actor goes on at length about one of the nominees.

~ Winner: Heath Ledger. The only suspense is who will accept for him. It’s Mom, Dad and Sis. Okay. This will be emotional. OR it will have a sort of forced emotion with gratuitous shots of actors in the audience crying. Yup. I am prophetic! Adrian Brody, crying. Robert Downey Jr., crying. Ben Kingsley, crying. Kate Winslet, mouthing to the camera “I’d better win mine, bitch.” I’m kidding! She’s crying, pippa!

~ Best Documentary. Here’s the detestable Bill Mahr, moaning about how his documentary didn’t get nominated. Winner: Well, not Bill Mahr, I guess. Man on Wire, which I have been wanting to see.

~ A montage about action movies. It is full of action from movies.

~ You know, this is rapidly devolving into stream-of-consciousness blogging. Actually, I don’t know if you could classify what I’m feeling right now as a form of consciousness.

~ Hey! The Curious and Gentle Ben wins for Best Visual Effects.

~ The Dark Knight wins for something …. that … I didn’t catch, but the tall nerdy dude was real happy and crap like that. Now his wife has to have sex with him.

~ Slumbog Jillionaire wins for — what is this? — Sound Mixing. Again, what is this??

~ Is it me or is this boring? Maybe — cross fingers — Hugh will take his shirt off momentarily. Oh, wait. MB is taking his shirt off. Maybe I will take my shirt off too. Hahaha. Just got more interesting, didn’t it?

~ Film Editing! My favorite category! Ooh! I hope there’s a winner! There IS! It’s Bumsog Xillionaire.

~ A commercial with Heidi Klum! She’s taking her shirt off! I’m lying! Now Tim Gunn! He is SO gay! “Even after 30 washes, the Tide Total Care outfit is fabulous. The other one is just …. sad.” Maybe someone will say that in their acceptance speech. If they did, it would be totally better than anything that’s happening right now except for the rampant shirtlessness going on behind the scenes of this blog post.

~ GOOD LORD. I AM BLOGGING EFFIN’ TIDE COMMERCIALS! IT’S THE OSCARS AND I AM BLOGGING EFFIN’ TIDE COMMERCIALS AND TALKING ABOUT RAISINS WHICH HAVE NOTHING WHATSOEVER TO DO WITH THE OSCARS. AT LEAST SO FAR.

~ Eddie Murphy. The Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. The what? The who? Take your shirt off! Winner: Jerry Lewis. Notice how there are never any nominees for these “humanitarian” awards? Just a winner? Then again, would we really want to see a screen with simultaneous shots of 5 celebrity do-gooders sitting there fingers crossed, waiting for the announcement, thinking, “I’m the most humane, I’m the most humane, I’m the most humane”? Kinda defeats the purpose, I s’pose. Vote for meeee. I’m the goodest of doers!

~ Oh, look. A Jerry Lewis montage, the 57th montage in the last 30 seconds. I am becoming completely enervated by this experience. Okay. Let’s think redemptively. How to make this better? Hm. I have it: Kate Winslet. That girl is naked all the time. She’s more naked than clothed. Maybe she’ll win and TAKE HER SHIRT OFF!

~ Best Original Score: Gumlog Thrillionaire. The winner is “excited and terrified.” Okay. That’s kinda cute.

~ You know how I said at the beginning about 23 days ago that this was the night Hollywood makes out with itself? Yeah. Well, I’m tired of watching. Get a room, Hollywood. You are not making out with me personally and if you were, I’m sure my clothes would be rubbed off from all the pawing and I’d have a giant red mouth like I’d sucked on a Mason jar. Enough with the groping. Too much foreplay! Too much foreplay! You’re losing the moment! I am dying from over-stimulation!

~ Best Original Songs. They’re being performed, songs from Dumdog Shrillionaire, et al. There seems to be no English in any of these songs. Basically, I believe what’s happening here is Pentecost Lite: Everyone is speaking in tongues, yes, but no one understands it. Or maybe it’s more of a Tower of Babel moment. All I really know is that my lack of comprehension here is of truly biblical proportions.

~ I don’t know who won.

~ Queen Latifah. In Memoriam. Always poignant. Charlton Heston. Sydney Pollack. Paul Newman. (Ledger is not shown; he was shown last year.) Lost some icons, didn’t we?

~ Reese Witherspoon. I love her, but not her dress. It’s got this blue-and-sparkly fabric then these black skydiving straps across the front. Well, maybe the girl’s got plans later. She’s doing Best Director. I mean, presenting. She’s not doing the Best Director. I mean, I hope not. Although just because I like her doesn’t mean she’s not capable of that. This is Hollywood, pippa.

~ Winner is the director of Bumflog Dillionaire. He’s accepting “in the spirit of Tigger,” he says. What? What does that mean? Is he going to bounce away on his tail?? I AM SO CONFUSED ON EVERY LEVEL RIGHT NOW.

~ Best Actress time. Kate Winslet, I do hope you take the next five minutes to change your hairstyle. Because I did not like what I saw earlier and, at this point, this thing is ALL ABOUT ME. I am worn to a nub. Here we go. Five previous winners. Dragging it out, verbally slobbering over each nominee.

I AM VERY. CRANKY. TONIGHT.

~ Sophia Loren is all Coppertoned and drunk. She knows this is the Oscars, right?

~ Nicole Kidman’s dress …. it’s white and she’s so pale. Why is she wearing white? There are little frizzly things popping out above her boobins.

(Watch Anne Hathaway steal this from Winslet.)

~ Nope! Kate wins! Good for her. Finally. She did not fix her hair in the last five minutes, though. It’s all brushed back and harsh and mannish. Makes her look older. Her dress is one shoulder, black. I don’t know. I want her to look like a goddess, but the dress isn’t as beautiful as she is. Still, I’m SO glad she won! She just said, “Dad, whistle or something so I know where you are!” You hear this shrill short whistle and she waves frantically to her dad in the crowd. Great moment. Congratulations, FINALLY, Kate Winslet!!

~ Best Actor next. Really really rooting for Mickey Rourke. Sean Penn’s been, well, lauded enough. Mickey’s moment. Gotta be. Please. Here come De Niro, Michael Douglas, Adrian Brody, Anthony Hopkins, and Ben Kingsley to make out with their respective Best Actor nominees.

~ De Niro said, “How did Sean Penn get all those jobs over the years playing straight men?” Hahahaha. I will be bummed if he wins, though. Nothing against him — I love his acting. Just shouldn’t be his moment. My opinion.

~ (Sarahk! Alert! Edward is sitting behind Mickey Rourke bewitching me with his butterscotch eyes!)

~ I am nervous. So nervous. Here we go. Oh, I knew it. I knew it. Sean Penn. No. Not happy. Will Mickey Rourke ever get this chance again, I can’t help but wonder? Will he disappear for a long time again? Ah, I feel sad for him. Penn gets political in his speech — about gay marriage, about Obama. I really can’t stand that at any Oscars. Across the board, across all issues, I hate it. I am disappointed on this one.

~ All right. Let’s end this. Best Picture. I’m just gonna say Ghettopuppy Richperson. It hasn’t been announced, but I’m going out on a limb here. Lonnng montage of past winners and this year’s nominees. The winner: See previous.

Final note: I thought Hugh Jackman was great. Really easy and natural.

Okay. Heavy petting over. Three hours and 26 minutes by my watch.

GOOD LORD AND GOOD NIGHT!

So MB and I were at the movies the other day. Saw this poster below for Liam Neeson’s new movie “Taken.” And then …. I swooned. Aunt Pittypatted all over the place. Had palpitations. Broke into a cold sweat. Broke into a hot flush. After that, I went all When Harry Met Sally on everyone present including precious innocent chirren.

First Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger and now this Liam Neeson poster? Has the whole world gone sexy??? Admittedly, I am highly susceptible — hi-hi-HIGHLY susceptible — to the charms of Liam Neeson, but I’m afraid I have entered a whole new realm with this one. And I haven’t even seen the movie yet. I’m not sure MB will let me now.

Holy Moses on the mountain! I don’t think I can get anything done for the rest of my life, because I am now dedicating it to looking at this poster.

You know, I have NO idea who these two kids are. I just really like the photo is all.

I see it says “Edward/Bella.” Who could they be?? They’re very pretty is all I know.

Another list!

Take the alphabet and list the foreign films you’ve seen — one per letter, no showing off. Include country of origin. English language foreign films are acceptable. Because I say so. Although I do consider those a bit of a cheat. Also, I tried to stick to the name of the movie as known here — in the US. For instance, y Tu Mama, Tambien, literally translates to “And Your Mother, Too” but no one here really knows this movie by that name. It was tempting to cheat my own game here and use the foreign titles — especially for that dratted letter X, but I stuck with the familiar titles to these movies. The whole list was harder than I thought it would be. I could think of many for some letters, then really strained to come up with just one for others. I mean, some of these I saw, oh, 20+ years ago. I can’t even remember yesterday, so this is really a monumental achievement for a shriveled crone like me.

Moving on.

The list:

A ~ Aleksandr Nevsky (Russia)

B ~ Babette’s Feast (Denmark)

C ~ Camille Claudel (France)

D ~ Dersu Uzala (Russia)

E ~ El Mariachi (Mexico)

F ~ Fitzcarraldo (Germany)

G ~ (The) Gods Must be Crazy (South Africa)

H ~ Hero (Japan)

I ~ Il Postino (Italy)

J ~ Jean de Florette (France)

K ~ Kagemusha (Japan)

L ~ Life is Beautiful (Italy)

M ~ Manon of the Spring (France)

N ~ Nosferatu (Germany)

O ~ Once (Ireland)

P ~ Pan’s Labyrinth (Spain)

Q ~ Queen Margot (France)

R ~ Rashomon (Japan)

S ~ Spirited Away (Japan)

T ~ (The) Tree of the Wooden Clogs (Italy)

U ~ (The) Umbrellas of Cherbourg (France)

V ~ (The) Virgin Spring (Sweden)

W ~ Walkabout (Australia)

X ~ I got nothing here — can I say Xanadu? No? Why not? It’s my list. I made this list thingy up. Can’t I do what I want? No? I’m such a tyrant. Sheesh.

Y ~ y Tu Mama, Tambien (Mexico)

Z ~ Zus and Zo (The Netherlands)

That X is gonna bug me, I tell you. Ah, well. I honestly could not think of one I’d seen.

Feel free to give your own list a whirl!

Oh, by the way, I hate myself, but I cannot stop.

If you’re now hating me too, um, please do queue up.

Okay. So this should have been posted 10 days or so ago, but I didn’t make it. I forgot. Whatevs. I kept a running tally of the movies we saw last year, although I’m pretty sure it’s incomplete and I’m trying not to let that bug me, even though, uhm, I’m sorry, it totally bugs me — the ones I’ve forgotten.

Nevertheless, proceeding apace: I separated them into an “In Theater” category and an “At Home” category. “At Home” mostly means a rental, but occasionally, it means a movie we stumbled across on TV and watched because we were too lazy to live our lives.

Also, to further complicate matters, I’ve created a key to denote my regard — or lack thereof — for each movie.

It goes like this:

** = I liked it

bold = I loved it

(movie) = I did not like it

italics = I violently hated it

I realize there are nuances of feeling between these, but, well, not for this list. These isn’t a review of these movies, obviously, just my pared-down feelings about them. Both categories are chronological.

IN THEATER:

PS I Love You ** Cheesy chick flick with gorgeous Irish actors? I’m there!
Atonement **
Cloverfield Yes, I loved this; for what it was, it totally worked for me
27 Dresses ** Yes, I have an odd crush on James Marsden
There Will Be Blood Daniel Day-Lewis, renewing my long-standing obsession with him
Michael Clayton **
Jumper
Vantage Point Rant about both of these movies here
10,000 Years B.C. Completely nonsensical rant about this movie here
Baby Mama ** I heart Tina Fey
Forgetting Sarah Marshall Totally raunchy, but it’s hilarious
Iron Man
(Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) Oh, Indy!!
The Strangers ** This was really suspenseful — and basically two actors holding it for the entire thing
The Happening **
Get Smart ** Mainly because of Steve Carell
Hancock **
Mamma Mia ** I think I’ll get the DVD — I could see this going into the love category
(The Dark Knight) Some great performances, just the whole didn’t work for me
(Traitor) Don Cheadle is starting to wear on me; dude needs to lighten up
Tropic Thunder HAHAHAHAHA!! Damn, this movie is FUNNY
Burn After Reading Not for everyone, I imagine, but I loved it
Eagle Eye ** I liked this more than I thought I would, kinda liking Shia LeBouf, hm
(Lakewood Terrace) Samuel L. Jackson as a racist cop
Changeling ** Yes, Angelina, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world
Role Models I beseech you to rent this – SO funny -I love Paul Rudd
Quantum of Solace So very very crappy crappy
Twilight ** Haha! Yes, the last theater movie of the year. Liked it, didn’t love it — I think I’m extending it more grace than it might deserve

AT HOME:

Once Oh, how I love this — it makes me ache
Midnight Cowboy ** I had never seen this
Brokeback Mountain **
Amazing Grace ** More of an eh
Across the Universe I watched this repeatedly for days on end
Gone Baby Gone **
No Country for Old Men
Only Angels Have Wings I’d never seen it before — I love it
(Elizabeth The Golden Age) Oh, Lizzie! You did me wrong
The Searchers
The Astronaut’s Wife Stumbled across this one, unfortunately
Double Idemnity
Rob Roy Seen this so many times, I love it every time
(La Vie en Rose) I know she won the Oscar, but, uhm, I didn’t like this. Biopics of singers are starting to wear on me, too, I think
Into the Wild **
Batman Begins ** But I LOVE Christian Bale pretty much all the time
Juno
(Miss Austen Regrets) I have no memory of this movie
Junebug **
The Mist Good Lord, this sucked
Savages How much do I love Philip Seymour Hoffman?
We Own the Night Joaquin, you let me down, dude
Tucker, The Man and His Dream Another rerun, Jeff Bridges, sighhh
Jane Eyre (BBC) ** You know, the best one I’ve ever seen, actually
Sunset Boulevard One of my all-time favorites
Gunga Din **
Sweeney Todd ** How many times have I gone on about this movie?
The Fabulous Baker Boys Rerun, Jeff Bridges, I now own it
The Door in the Floor Damn, Jeff Bridges, DAMN, A-mazing
The Handmaid’s Tale We saw this years ago and it suuucked. We both read the book this year — loved it — and for some reason, rented this AGAIN to see if it improved — It was WAAY worse; I want to gouge out my eyes to erase the memory
Fearless See all previous comments about Jeff Bridges
Elizabethtown ** A rerun, but I’m charmed by this movie
John Rambo ** Oh, so violent, but someone actually doing a movie about Burma — and getting the horror right, from what I know and have been told
Dan in Real Life I want to live in this movie; I want the family to adopt me; I need to own this
(Charlie Wilson’s War) Deeply boring to me
How to Draw a Bunny (about artist Ray Johnson) **
Hitman Hahahaha! Assuages one’s blood lust; I go on about it here
Escher Movie ** I cannot remember the name, I liked what I saw before I fell asleep
Bella See comment for Dan in Real Life — also, the lead is the most gorgeous man in the world — he just is
In Bruges I’m surprised how much I loved this, because of my general distaste for Colin Farrell, but I loved him in this
The Films of Charles and Ray Eames, Vol. 2 Genius — we are huge Eames fans around here
(Charlie Bartlett) No more movies about people named Charlie, okay?
Anatomy of a Murder Uhm, who doesn’t love this movie?
Frailty **
Five Easy Pieces ** Another first for me — I need to see it again
The Darjeeling Limited ** I want to see this again when I’m less stressed
Feast of Love ** A cheesy movie, I suppose, but some of the dialog resonated with me
The Bank Job Oh, I officially have a crush on Jason Statham
Moliere I found this funny and oddly touching
Win a Date with Tad Hamilton ** Yes, that’s right — I was alone on a Saturday afternoon, it was on TV, and I liked it — deal with it
(21) What was this about again?
Remains of the Day A rerun, I can only see this movie maybe once every 10 years, I love it, but it’s so painful
American Psycho Damn, Christian Bale — when is your Oscar coming??
The Verdict This was after Paul Newman died
The Sting ** This as well — I’d never seen it
Cinderella Man **
Bleak House (Masterpiece Theater)
The Hulk **
In the Realms of the Unreal About outsider artist Henry Darger. Google him. So so so fascinating
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day Oh, how I love Frances McDormand!
Little Women A tradition every autumn
Miracle on 34th Street
It’s a Wonderful Life
A Christmas Story All of these are beloved traditions!

I wrote this a couple of Christmases ago, but darned if I ain’t watching It’s A Wonderful Life again — right now — and darned if I don’t feel exactly the same way I did then. I mean, it’s so predictable: I will be sobbing within the first ten minutes of this movie.

It’s that scene. The Young George/Mr. Gower scene. As I get older, it’s the grace — the utter grace of Young George in that scene that rips right through me and turns me inside out. And I don’t mean physical grace or social grace. I mean grace grace. Spiritual grace. Divine grace. Gower is drunk, abusive, completely shattered by grief and taking it out on George, who, at every turn, every turn, says things like, “It’s not your fault,” “I know you’re unhappy,” “I know you’re upset.” He’s being completely savaged, but, in the midst of everything, with his ear bleeding from Mr. Gower’s wild blows, he still offers understanding, he still chooses love. The whole scene is a complete miracle to me. Every year, ten minutes in, and I am torn to bits.

Anyhoo. Here’s what I wrote about that scene two years ago:

You know, I watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” the other night and I am always ripped apart by this scene between young George and Mr. Gower, only about 10 minutes into the movie. Mr. Gower has just received a telegram notifying him of his son’s death. George has seen the telegram, too, and that Mr. Gower has been drinking heavily. Gower gives George the task to deliver some medicine, but he’s so drunk and despairing, he doesn’t realize he put poison in the capsules instead of medicine. George knows, though, has seen the telegram, and runs to his dad for advice on what to do. Dad, of course, is in the middle of a brouhaha with Mr. Potter and can’t help George, so George is left to decide for himself what to do with the poisoned pills. He doesn’t deliver them, but heads back to the drugstore — and Mr. Gower.

Every year when I watch this scene, I end up sobbing. The scene, to me, is raw and real and powerful and I love how neither actor — Robert Anderson as young George and H. B. Warner as Mr. Gower — holds back anything. I mean, that kid playing George looks about 12 or 13 to me. Such an awkward age. I’ve taught drama to that age group and most boys that age, even boys with interest in performing, just stumble about, self-conscious, unable to control their changing voices, their clumsy bodies, and uncomfortable with any raw emotion — other than rage. Rage they could do okay, in a “Look! I am SO raging!” kind of way.

But this beautiful kid — literally, physically beautiful kid — Robert Anderson — who I know from nothing else other than this movie — is completely unafraid to go there. He has to be terrified. He has to be beaten. He has to cry. He has to cower. He has to beg. And he has to come out on top, really. Win the moment because it’s life or death. All in this one short scene. And he does it. And you never for a moment think he’s a wuss — which is what my male students’ objection to playing a scene like this would have been. He’s a young man in this scene and he’s totally willing to be ripped apart for a cause bigger than himself. I just always find myself amazed by him in this scene — and the scene previous, where he’s deflecting Violet’s flirtation — “Help me down, Georgie?” (as she’s perched up on stool, ordering candy, batting her eyes at him). “Help ya DOWN??” Hahahahaha. Like, he’s so not going there with her silliness. Are ya nuts, Violet? He seems to know what he is and what he’s not. At least at this point in the film. Even now, he won’t sell out his core or suffer fools and this young actor just GETS that. In a totally unself-conscious way. He’s a hero of the best kind — a hero who doesn’t know he’s being a hero. Oh, and the moment when Gower realizes what he’s done and literally crushes George to him and George is still crying out about his ear, all afraid? Heartstopping. I love that. He’s still a terrified kid, trying to protect himself, and yet completely sacrificing himself, too. And that Mr. Gower has really smacked him around; there’s blood coming from George’s ear. It’s horrifying, the violence, the helplessness of George in that moment. All he has is his words, his pleas. Can he get through to Gower with just his words?

The scene is physically painful to watch, actually. Like you’re watching an actual beating of an actual kid by an actual hideous drunk. But that’s its brilliance; its greatness. No one holds back. Every year I think about what it must have been like to be Robert Anderson, a kid of that weird, awkward age thumbing through his script and finding THAT scene. A scene requiring that of him. A scene that says — without ever really saying it — “You have to basically be naked here. You must be okay with that. You must do it.” Wow. And he does it. I love that kid.

The scene is one of my favorites in the entire movie. Here’s the excerpt from the screenplay.

BACK TO DRUGSTORE

INT. BACK ROOM – GOWER’S DRUGSTORE – DAY

CLOSE SHOT

Gower talking on the telephone. George stands in the doorway.

GOWER (drunkenly)
Why, that medicine should have been there an hour ago. It’ll be over in five minutes, Mrs. Blaine.

He hangs up the phone and turns to George.

GOWER
Where’s Mrs. Blaine’s box of capsules?

He grabs George by the shirt and drags him into the back room.

GEORGE
Capsules …

GOWER (shaking him)
Did you hear what I said?

GEORGE (frightened)
Yes, sir, I…

Gower starts hitting George about the head with his open hands. George tries to protect himself as best he can.

GOWER
What kind of tricks are you playing, anyway? Why didn’t you deliver them right away? Don’t you know that boy’s very sick?

GEORGE (in tears)
You’re hurting my sore ear.

INT. FRONT ROOM DRUGSTORE – DAY

CLOSE SHOT

Mary is still seated at the soda fountain. Each time she hears George being slapped, she winces.

INT. BACK ROOM DRUGSTORE – DAY

CLOSE SHOT – GEORGE AND GOWER

GOWER
You lazy loafer!

GEORGE (sobbing)
Mr. Gower, you don’t know what you’re doing. You put something
wrong in those capsules. I know you’re unhappy. You got that
telegram, and you’re upset. You put something bad in those capsules. It
wasn’t your fault, Mr. Gower . . .

George pulls the little box out of his pocket. Gower savagely
rips it away from him, breathing heavily, staring at the boy
venomously.

GEORGE
Just look and see what you did. Look at the bottle you took the
powder from. It’s poison! I tell you, it’s poison! I know you
feel bad . . . and .. .

George falters off, cupping his aching ear with a hand. Gower looks at the large brown bottle which has not been replaced on the shelf. He tears open the package, shakes the powder out of one of the capsules, cautiously tastes it, then abruptly throws the whole mess to the table and turns to look at George again. The boy is whimpering, hurt, frightened. Gower steps toward him.

GEORGE
Don’t hurt my sore ear again.

But this time Gower sweeps the boy to him in a hug and, sobbing
hoarsely, crushes the boy in his embrace. George is crying too.

GOWER
No . . . No . . . No. . .

GEORGE
Don’t hurt my ear again!

GOWER (sobbing)
Oh, George, George . . .

GEORGE
Mr. Gower, I won’t ever tell anyone. I know what you’re feeling.
I won’t ever tell a soul. Hope to die, I won’t.

GOWER
Oh, George.

I swear. I think It’s A Wonderful Life must be the decent-est movie ever made.

Do you know what I mean? Not a couch potato, per se, but you’re just a potato. You feel like a starchy blob. All bound up. Like everything you are is packed so tightly under this thin skin of yours that you can’t move or make sense of it all. You’re a tuber. Yes, a tuber. You become a total tuber.

I am a tuber.

I love that word — it is plump with ridiculousness.

So we’ve established that, the last several days, I have been a tuber. Starchy in the head and buried under a dirty heat. It makes sense to my starchy head, if no one else. It’s hot here and I hate hot with a white hot hate — which is why living in southern California is, you know, so perfect for me. I hate feeling like I need to run through the neighbor’s sprinklers or take a shower every five minutes.

Maybe I’ve been watching too many movies. Maybe it’s sensory overload. I process things slowly — in a kind of savoring way — so if there’s been too much, voila, tuberino.

This is going nowhere, isn’t it? Yes, Tracey, it is going nowhere.

Okay. How about a list of the movies I’ve seen over the last several days — movies that I’m still processing, to some degree. That’s a start. Or something.

Here we go. My list — all of which I’d never seen before and perhaps a basis for my lingering tuberosity:

Mamma Mia
The Dark Knight
Five Easy Pieces
The Darjeeling Limited
Feast of Love
The Bank Job
Moliere

I liked all of these movies — to greater or lesser degrees — but again, I mull; I wait for things to sink in. It takes me a while. Maybe I just ain’t that bright. Whatevs. You gotta play the cards you’re dealt. For now, though, to try to break through my starchy head block, I’ll share some random thoughts, impressions, stuff, about Mamma Mia — and maybe the other ones later.

Mamma Mia — Okay. Look. Meryl Streep is hilarious. She is a rollicking good sport and I am now in love with her forever. You know, I think people forget how funny she can be as an actress. (Postcards from the Edge, anyone?) She gets put on this “great dramatic actress” pedestal and everything else she has to offer is treated like chopped liver or … or .. tubers or something. She’s so FUN in this movie — except for her 27-minute version of “The Winner Takes it All.” If anyone could nearly make that work, it’s Meryl Streep, but it was just too dang long. Some of the verses could have been cut and the song would not have lost its impact. But I loved her in this. She frolicks — believably. It’s adorable and endearing and I can’t picture any other movie actress in this part, really. I love that she so obviously has a sense of humor, doesn’t take herself as seriously as everybody else seems to. She’s reason enough to see the movie.

— Amanda Seyfried is luminous as Streep’s daughter. My second favorite thing about the movie. Plus she can sing. I loved her. She just glowed.

— Pierce Brosnan cannot sing. I’m sorry; he cannot. It’s more of a rhythmic growling set to music. People in our theatre laughed when he started singing. However, I find him so attractive, I forgive him everything. And so did the audience. The same people who laughed at his singing were clapping and cheering at the end of the movie. There’s just a feel-good vibe about the whole thing. Despite its flaws, it’s just plain ol’ fun. Some of it produces, well, inadvertent fun, unintended fun, perhaps, but it’s just damn FUN. And I’ve been working out on my trampoline to ABBA music ever since, so it does that to you, too.

— Colin Firth is a better singer than Pierce. Perhaps he should have had that part?

— Julie Walters and Christine Baranski as Streep’s girlfriends. Now, I love Julie Walters. Rita from Educating Rita? Mrs. Weasley from all the Harry Potter movies? Come on. She’s got a comedic flair and she’s basically adorable — USUALLY. But …. she’s a total goblin in this movie. This is not hyperbole. I mean, I could barely look at her. During the movie, MB leaned in to me and whispered, “Good Lord. She’s repulsive.” Hahaha. She cavorts around awkwardly, sporting what My Beloved labels the “dreadful lesbian” haircut. She actually looks exactly like a gay guy I know. Of course, this was discussed in frantic whispers during the movie, so, perhaps unfairly to Ms. Walters, we had this whole separate runaway subtext going on for her. I basically COULD NOT DEAL WITH HER IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM. Near the end, there’s a musical number that features her prominently — and I was gone, GONE, shaking with laughter because I had this whole “dreadful lesbian” storyline for her going on in my head. I could not hold the two opposing ideas in my head any longer and I’m sure I disturbed the people behind us. I was shaking that hard. I was afraid I’d actually start shrieking. I shook for the rest of the movie. It was very aerobic, really and good for me. Christine Baranski — little Miss Broadway — has a musical number that, well, is kind of cringe-inducing for me. I think she’s supposed to be sexy, which she empirically is NOT. Her costume in that scene doesn’t help matters. Her bony cleavage made me squirm. Ergh.

— The location itself is a character in the movie. Actually, it may be the main character, if looked at in a certain way. The whole “Greek Isle” thing: turquoise water, bleached sand beaches, whitewashed buildings, winding hillsides — so much vibrancy and life and beauty just there to be looked at, reveled in, you can’t help but feel joyful from the get-go. The movie wouldn’t work anywhere else, I don’t think. It is intertwined with its location. It invites, lulls. There’s something — I don’t know — unfettered about the crystal beauty of the island here that calls you to cast your cares aside and just enter INTO it all.

— I think the quirky genius of the movie is this: Despite the seeming incongruity of pounding Swedish disco music in a shimmering Greek locale, despite the threadbare script, despite some iffy singing, the actors are just having a grand ol’ time — well, maybe not Stellan Skaarsgard — and the whole experience makes you feel young and free and hopeful again. I don’t know how it does it, really. It just does. You drift out of that movie humming ABBA music — for better or worse — and feeling like anything is possible. I don’t know about you, but that adds up to a good movie to me. It’s a movie greater than the sum of its sometimes-wispy-weirdo parts. Laugh with it, laugh at it, whatever, you WILL have fun. Guaranteed.

Okay. Now, shhhhh. Back to being a tuber.