Ashes and Diamonds

Tonight's Film:

During the last day of World War II, Polish freedom fighters attempt to assassinate the incoming Communist leader. Are they heroes? Villains? That there is confusion at all is due to the mastery that is Andrzej Wajda, who directed this in 1958, while the country was under strict communist control. It's a tight, taunt thriller that is ultimately shocking as well as tender. This black and white gem has more than its share of gray, and it's all expertly handled. 

The dude there in the sunglasses is Zbigniew Cybulski (Henry tried to tell me how to pronounce his name like 11 times, to no avail). He is known as the Polish James Dean, probably because folks like me couldn't pronouce his real name, but mostly due to his rebellious, nearly manic performance in this film. Apparently, sunglasses sales in Poland skyrocketed after the release of Ashes and Diamonds. With good reason; Polish James Dean has style for days. 

This is one of Martin Scorsese's favorite films, and it's easy to see why. First of all, it's gorgeous. The black and white seamlessly shifts from stark to romantic, often within the same scene and ably aided by the clouds of cigerette smoke. Second of all, the acting is brilliant. mostly done in eye shifts and head nods and soft inflections and sighs, but then things explode. And Lordie, do they ever explode. Like machine guns in church explode. Last of all, there is an aching love for film-making that courses under it all like a heartbeat; it sounds in every camera angle and through the gentle but relentless score and within the expert lighting that seems to caress more than illuminate. It's Scorsese before there was Scorsese. Or perhaps it's why there's Scorsese.  

Ashes and Diamonds refers to the pressure, and loss, that is required to create diamonds. No ash here, this film is certainly a diamond. 

Scaramouche

Last night's movie:

I like MGM epics. The 5-year-old likes sword fights. We both like to stay up past midnight, watching old movies, while the rest of the family sleeps. Hence, last night's midnight showing of Scaramouche. 

This one's got it all. Pomp. Pageantry. Enough Technicolor to make your eyes cross. Stewart Granger is in full-on beef-cake glory. Mel Ferrer is playing the villain (which he should have done way more often because he was way scary). Eleanor Parker is not getting rejected by Captain von Trapp, for once. And Janet Leigh is not getting stabbed in the shower, for once. (Oh, sorry, spoiler alert!) It's pretty pre-Revolution France (you know, without pesky poverty or subjugation or raging disease), and it is gorgeous as all get out.

Things cap off with a 7 minute sword fight that had the 5-year-old jumping around the living room, attempting to also swing on the drapes. I may need to reconsider these midnight epics........ but you shouldn't. See it soon! 

Moneyball

Tonight's film: 

Because when Henry and I watch come-from-behind-sports-movies, we like 'em true and we like 'em with statistics. Actually, no, that's not true. I mean, Henry does, but I watch it for pre-action-movie Chris Pratt and a totally understated Jonah Hill that you just want to give a hug. Plus, Brad Pitt looks like he bathed for this one, and that's always a good thing. Love it. 

The Man that Never Was

Henry and I share a fondness for World War II movies. We watched this little gem the other night. It was pretty good; a totally implausible scheme to fool the Nazis made all the more fascinating because it is based on a true story. It has some slow moments. Our friend Nathan was talking about how in 70s cop shows they didn't seem to employ an editor; they would make you watch the cops get in the car, drive to the crime scene, stop at a red light, get out at the crime scene, fill out paperwork. This was like the World War II version of that. On a sub. But, despite that, we quite enjoyed it, and look out for a fabulous Gloria Grahame (fresh off her Ado Annie fame), who dictates the most beautiful, most heartbreaking, love letter ever written to a fake fighter pilot. It's streaming on Netflix, just saying.....

Paul Blart Mall Cop 2

I know. I know. But I really like Kevin James. I guess that's my guilty movie secret. What's not a secret is that I adore film. Like good film. I can toss around terms like noir lighting and French new wave and tracking shot and archetypes and Oscar bait. I've read The Seven Basic Plots and Awake in the Dark. Heck, I've been to Ebert-fest. I have a BFA and I am not afraid to use it. Basically, I adore film. All film.

I think Kevin James is that perfect combo of funny and sweet. Or maybe it's because he kinda looks like my husband. Or maybe it's because his pratfalls are well honed, well-timed, and remind me of prime Laurel and Hardy. But, you know what, it doesn't matter why. I just like him and that's OK.

We all have our Kevin Jameses. Yours might be B monster movies from the 60s or Smokey and the Bandit 3 (I'll grant you 1, even 2, but 3? Seriously, that thing is a mess.). Maybe you love Adam Sandler or you watch Showgirls when no one else is home or maybe you think anything that John Travolta makes on his own is misunderstood genius. And I don't judge you for it. Well, I might. A little. In my head. The same part of the brain that has you judging me for liking Kevin James. These things are not explainable. But they might be hereditary because I took the 7-year-old to see this one and he found it screamingly funny. Here is his review:

"He is so fast! And he runs around and rides these cool scooter things and there are bad guys. And he doesn't kill the bad guys because he is a good guy and has all these cool way of stopping them. And he has a super smart daughter who is really pretty. And Las Vegas looks really shiny but kinda dangerous, so I am glad that Paul Blart and his security people were there to protect everyone. And make me laugh."

Made me laugh too. Don't judge my Kevin James and I won't judge yours. Deal?

Oscars Rules

Dear Oscars-

My mother and I have been watching the Oscars for a very long time, and we have developed a few rules for you. These aren't suggestions; these are pretty hard and fast.

1.) Speeches: they need to be eloquent, funny, or short. This isn't our first rodeo; we know you aren't going to do all three. Just pick one that works for you and stick to it.

2.) If you win, do not pull out your speech and read it. It looks like you thought you were gonna win: tacky. Furthermore, most of you are actors and can memorize a few lines. One would hope.

3.) We want to see movie clips. We love movies; that's kinda why we are here. Show us some movie clips. Do NOT do that weird thing you did a couple years ago when 5 former Oscars winners showed up and talked about the 5 actors who were nominated and we had to endure hearing about Angelina Jolie's luminance and grace. Nobody wants that. Everyone wants movie clips.

4.) If you can't manage any of the things in rule number 1, then get drunk and do something outrageous. We love scandal; that's kinda why we are here. Mom and I don't get to watch the Oscars together and we call each other at every commercial; make sure we have something to talk about, other than Gwyneth Paltrow's ugly dress. (You know it will be.) And don't make the Foreign Film winners bring all the sparkle and eccentricity. You are making Americans look boring. Do something; I don't know, act interesting perhaps.

5.) Boob rules. There are a lot of these:

A.) We are not prudes, you are welcome to show some cleavage. Just make sure it is from the top. No side boob or under boob allowed.

B.) Please make sure that more of your boob is covered than uncovered. If more of your boob is uncovered than covered, you are violating Boob Rule A. It's just simple math.

C.) Wear a bra. Or have one built into your dress. (Yes, they can do that.)

D.) Do NOT tug up your dress on the stage. (several million people just saw that) Do NOT tug up your dress in the audience. (you never know when the camera is on you) Do NOT tug up your dress at all. There are at least 75 costume designers in this place, go get some help (pre-show) if you think you are slipping. They'll have safety pins or some double-sided tape. Get help; don't tug.

6.) Hey, sound wizards, I don't wanna hear the applause during the who-died-this-year montage. It's tacky to hear the clapping swell when some actor pops up, and then crickets when, let's say, some sound engineer is honored. Crank the maudlin ballad you have playing over it or just block out the applause until the end. Be all sound wizardy; do it for your tech brethren everywhere.

7.) Tulle? No.

8.) We want some sort of weird song and dance number, maybe 2. I am thinking for the opening and then for the nominated songs. Neil Patrick, this one's on you, Buddy. You can do it. But keep it short and toned-down; this isn't the Tonys.

9.) Steer clear of politics, unless your movie was political. Then you are allowed, but make sure you make sense and stick to Rule 1. No rambling. Documentaries, you are allowed to be as political or rambling as you want. They are gonna play you off anyway.

10.) Don't take yourselves too seriously. You are a room full of rich people handing each other golden statues for playing pretend. Have fun!

We'll be watching. Don't make us add your name to our "yeah-don't-much-care-for-him/her list." You wanna be on the "Oh-I-love-him/her!" list with Helen Mirren.

Happy Oscars!
Erin and Cathy

Paddington

Tonight's film:

Will: It was amazing, I loved it, it was even better than I thought it would be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Will insisted on this level of exclamation points.) My favorite part was when (spoiler) Mr. Brown dresses as a lady, it was funny!!!

Sean: I liked the part when the bathtub floated away!

Lucy spent the movie running around the theater.

This rare moment of stillness was only due to the fact that she fell,

slipped on some popcorn she spilled no doubt. 

No worries, she's fine,

although she may be possessed.

(but if she is, she's been that way for awhile now.)

The baby enjoyed himself by diving into the popcorn bucket. He even said "uh-oh!" during a particularly tense scene involving some pigeons, so that was exciting. 

It was a fun movie, with a surprisingly imperfect protagonist family; much like our own. And I loved this director's vision of London, A bit of magically real storytelling, sort of Wes Anderson-ish. And who doesn't love Wes Anderson? (Do not comment and tell us you don't love Wes Anderson. We won't be able to compute such a statement.)

See it; super sweet!