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another stolen meme
Oct. 5th, 2008 | 07:55 pm
mood: 
chipper
music: Tagesschau jingle
I found a meme on Z's LJ. It's always nice to do a nice meme :)
FOODOLOGY
What is your salad dressing of choice? Home-made vinaigrette
What is your favorite sit-down restaurant? An Indian restaurant just around the corner
What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of? Home-made lasagne.
What do you like to put on your toast? Dark current jam
TECHNOLOGY
What is your wallpaper on your computer? A photo by Cartier-Bresson
What color cell phone do you have? Black
BIOLOGY
Are you right-handed or left-handed? Right-handed.
Have you ever had anything removed from your body? Wisdom teeth and several knots (lacking the proper English word here, clearly)
What is the last heavy item you lifted? Computer monitor
Have you ever been knocked unconscious? Actually yes, by a football, kicked from behind that hit my head really hard. I’m not sure that one caused the unconsciousness, but the heavy fall on my face most certainly did.
BULLCRAPOLOGY
If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die? No.
If you could change your name, what would you change it to? I quite like my name, so no.
Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1,000? I don’t think so. I’d have to be on the verge of starving, then I might consider it.
DUMBOLOGY
How many pairs of flip flops do you own? None, I don’t like them.
Last time you had a run-in with the cops? Uh… Can’t remember. At least ten years ago.
What do you want to be when you grow up? Happy.
Last person you talked to? Good friend R.
Last person you hugged? My two best friends
FAVORITOLOGY
Season? Early autumn, when it’s really ‘golden’.
Day of the week? Saturday
Month? September.
CURRENTOLOGY
Missing someone? No.
Mood? Quite al right
Listening to? The news
Watching? The news
Worrying about? Mole surgery next week.
RANDOMOLOGY
First place you went this morning? My first way, EVERY day, is to the kitchen, to turn on the coffee machine.
What can you not wait to do? Getting back to the whodunit novel I started yesterday
What's the last movie you saw? The Life of Others, Friday night
Do you smile often? Yes, I think so. I smile easily. Like now.
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bugger
Jul. 13th, 2008 | 08:42 am
mood: 
infuriated
Sunday morning appears like a good time for a little rant -
1. mothers who go on holiday without telling their children. BAD STYLE, methinks. Admittedly, I didn’t even notice, if my AUNT hadn’t mentioned yesterday – in passing – that my mum is about to come back on Monday from her little five-day-trip. And no, it was NO spontaneous last-minute trip, and YES, we talked shortly before she left. I am not exactly angry for being left uninformed – I am annoyed because I know what would happen if *I* had the audacity to leave the country without telling her. “Something could have happened! What if a family member needed a blood transfusion? And we wouldn’t know where you are?”
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Cauliflower Chilli
Jul. 11th, 2008 | 09:07 am
location: the kitchen
mood: 
hungry
music: Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Due to dire necessity, I was forced to invent a new dish yesterday, and since it was one of the yummiest things I've eaten in the last months, I thought I'd share.
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Recipe - Tenderloin with Gin and Juniper
May. 8th, 2008 | 01:17 pm
mood: hungry
music: NIN, Piggy
I invented this recipe 'accidentally', but I find it great and so I thought I'd share:
Pork Tenderloin with Gin Sauce / Schweinemedaillons mit Ginsauce
Pork Tenderloin with Gin Sauce / Schweinemedaillons mit Ginsauce
500g Schweinefilet / pork tenderloin
200ml Weißwein / white wine
100ml Gin
2 große Gemüsezwiebeln / big Spanish Onions
5 zerdrückte Wacholderbeeren / ground juniper berries
1 Scheibe dunkles Brot / slice of dark bread (Pumpernickel)
500ml starke Gemüsebrühe / strong vegetable broth
- Filet ungewürzt im Ganzen rundum scharf anbraten. Aus der Pfanne nehmen.
- Fein gewürfelte Zwiebeln in die heiße Pfanne geben, glasig werden lassen, herausnehmen.
- In der Zwischenzeit Filet in fingerdicke Scheiben aufschneiden, salzen, pfeffern, in der heißen Pfanne 90 Sekunden von jeder Seite anbraten, rausnehmen.
- Zwiebeln zurück in die Pfanne geben (zwei Esslöffel zur Seite legen), heiß werden lassen und mit Hälfte des Weins ablöschen.
- Brot in Würfel schneiden, mit den zwei Esslöffeln Zwiebeln zusammen separat anbraten, mit der Hälfte der Brühe ablöschen. Wacholderbeeren dazugeben, köcheln lassen, dann mit dem Pürierstab fein pürieren.
- Restliche Brühe, Wein und Gin in die Pfanne geben, mit der Brotmasse andicken, salzen, pfeffern. Filets dazugeben und bei niedriger Hitze garen.
- do not season the tenderloin before searing it from all sides. Take it out of the frying pan.
- give the cut-up onions in the still hot pan, sweat them and take them out.
- in the meantime: cut the tenderloin in finger-thick slices, salt and pepper them, fry them in the still-hot pan for 90 seconds each side. Take them out again.
- give the onions back into the pan (save two tablespoons), let them get hot again and deglate them with half of the wine.
- cut the bread in small cubes and fry them together with the 2 spoons onions, add half of the broth and the juniper berries and let it cook and reduce slightly. Then use a hand-held blender and mash the mixture.
- add remaining broth, wine and gin, thicken with the bread puree, season with salt and pepper. Add the medallions and cook at low temperatures.
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Feed the World
May. 6th, 2008 | 06:15 pm
mood: 
quixotic
It doesn't happen often, if ever, that I recommend some site, but here it is. It's a game to learn vocabulary, AND (here's the catch) for each correct answer, 20 grains of rice are donated to the UN World Food Program.
http://www.freerice.com/index.php
It's fun, at least for the non-natives, and you get to learn flashy new words like 'gingiva', or 'prestidigitator'.
http://www.freerice.com/index.php
It's fun, at least for the non-natives, and you get to learn flashy new words like 'gingiva', or 'prestidigitator'.
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Sharp Blade Death Match - Kill Sweeney
May. 3rd, 2008 | 09:29 am
mood: 
predatory
music: Metallica, The Unforgiven
Sweeney Todd vs. Kill Bill Volume I
When I heard the first mentions of ‘There’s really a lot of gore in that new Johnny Depp film!’ I though, ‘pah, I can handle that. I watched Kill Bill I and found it nothing but entertaining. How much worse could it be, eh?’ Goes to show I should eat my own words more often, or just bite my tongue. For those who missed either, here’s a VERY swift summary.
Sweeney Todd (directed by Tim Burton, 2007, adapting Steven Sondheim's musical of the same name), libelled, unjustly sentenced for life, bereaved of his wife and robbed of his only child, goes a bit mad and now seeks revenge on his principal wrong-doer, and in the meantime makes some serial attempts to ‘deliver’ mankind in general (“They all deserve to die, even you, Mrs Lovett, even I! For there’s two kind of man and only two – one stays put in his proper place while the one puts his foot in the other ones’ face… For the life of the wicked should be made brief, for the rest of us death will be a relief…” – that’s a very rough quote, of course) with the help of his barber knives and a crazy-in-love pie-maker. Kill Bill's (directed by Quentin Tarrantino, 2003) The Bride (for fans of the trivia – her name is revealed on her passport, it’s ‘Beatrice Kiddo’) on the other hand fared as a professional assassin for many years, got impregnated by her boss Bill, and deciding to make a new start with another, rather random, man, her wedding gets stormed by her former colleagues, who make a mess of the place, shoot everyone including her, though she survives, and to top it all, Bill robs her baby while she’s comatose. As soon as waking up again, she’s on a crusade for vengeance, too, killing (in Volume I) the crime lord of Tokio plus her entire posse and some outwardly unsuspicious Pasadena housewife, who once was an assassin like her, too. She does all that mainly with a lovely Samurai sword, that is sharp enough to severe any body part you name, or cleanly cut off a woman’s skullcap. There are fountains of human blood splattering all over the screen in Kill Bill I, and no, I did not mind for a second. Before I saw Volume II, I thought that Tarrantino had intended Part I satirically, and was highly entertained indeed. I didn’t mind the blood, the hacked arms, the loss of half of Lucy Liu’s cranium. So I thought I shouldn’t be in the least way concerned about Sweeney Todd – how bad could it be, in a musical, with a simple barber knife? Blimey, how wrong I was. I must say I did not dare looking during most of the really gory stuff. My friend kept on telling me when I could open my eyes again. Yuck. Rule of thumb: it’s one thing to see a Samurai sword rapidly hack through an arm with one single smooth strike. It’s a completely different matter to see someone cut a throat, not particularly quickly even, with a little knife. Really, really, categorically different!
To my astonishment, those two movies bear some striking similarities, while they could not be more different in other aspects. Where to start?
The motivation of the protagonist. Both Sweeney Todd and The Bride are on a trip for revenge. Both were ill-used by some powerful, elderly man whose got a thing for blondes, both were robbed of their daughters, who were brought up by that man as his own. Both remember their talents of old; Todd was a master barber and knows how to handle his blades. The Bride was a professional killer and knows how to handle pretty much all weapons, and is an expert Samurai. Both dress very stylishly. Johnny Depp gets to wear (among other stuff) a very cool black leather coat in one scene; Uma Thurman wears a yellow leather jumpsuit for most of the film. And both soundtracks are overwhelming, though they could hardly be more different from each other. Kill Bill, as Tarrantino’s usual trademark, features all kinds of music to underscore its elegant, stylish cinematography. Carnage hardly ever looked better, and how often do you come across murder to a James Last tune, or Saint Esmeralda? Burton on the other hand, is a master of picture composition, too, but while Kill Bill is glaringly bright and colourful, Burton's pictures are almost monochromatic, dark at all times, and accompanied by an elegiac, ‘one-piece’ soundtrack.
Both films are highly ironical – well, at least I used to think so, although Volume II made me question that interpretation, but that’s a different matter. Let’s stay with the perceptible irony. Tarrantino makes a film about the most trivial and arbitrary of stories. The basic idea’s so far out there, so unreal, one wouldn’t be so very surprised if an alien came along somewhere. Lucy Liu and her fifty professional thugs are faced with a single woman with a sword, and let themselves be maimed one after the other, instead of – come on, do I have to say it? Not one of them thinks of pulling out a gun (what sort of criminals are they, after all!) to end the drama. How am I supposed to take that story serious, eh? Seen in an ironic angle though, it all works perfectly fine; Tarrantino pillages genres, music styles, makes daring shots and experiments with animé sequences in between. Everything is over-the-top, absurd, twisted, ‘post-modern’ I read in quite a lot of reviews.
Burton is highly ironic, too, but on a very different level. The irony is in the very fabric of the story itself; the dichotomy between Mrs Lovett’s fantasies of man and child in a sea-side resort, and her down-to-business way of corpse disposal is hilarious. When Sweeney Todd, driven by the memories of a dead wife and a lost daughter, encounters these both for real and kills one (he’d kill both of them if he had the time!), it’s breathtakingly sad and ironic. The engaging pathos of the music (72 instruments were employed; the original score was re-arranged to make it sound even more bombastic) carries devious lyrics; the tragedy, the grittiness, the misery are constantly juxtaposed by casualness and dry humour. Todd’s world-weary cynicism is contrasted with Turpin’s seedy, power-abusing cynicism and Mrs Lovett’s practical, but nonetheless cynical demeanour, and the single innocent optimist in the whole story – young Anthony (even his soon-to-be bride harbours no real hope, all she wants is escaping her desperate situation) – appears downright laughable.
Heck, I loved Kill Bill Volume I (I still try forgetting Volume II). But if I compare it to Sweeney Todd – or, to stay in the Death Match imagery, send these two into the ring, Burton knocks out Tarrantino in the first round and seizes the next twelve rounds to claw, trample, maim, cut to pieces and tear asunder his opponent. It’s a fight between a cute, fluffy little Kitten going by the name of Princess, and a big, mean, 800 pounds tiger. Poor Bride – after her wedding being ruined by her old friends, and the loss of her child, she’s defeated by a manic-depressive barber.
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Evil Blond Wizards Death Match - Lucious Warlocks
Apr. 27th, 2008 | 01:23 pm
mood: 
devious
music: Type O Negative's Black #1
Lucius Malfoy vs. Warlock
The nameless (to my knowledge) Warlock makes his appearance in the movie of the same name (1989), and its sequel Warlock – The Armageddon (1993), and is played by British actor Julian Sands. Frankly, the movies are rather… Well, at least the first one got a certain amount of charms, and if you watch it as a satire, it’s even enjoyable. There is but one truly redeeming feature about them, and this must be Julian Sands’ performance. I’m not a fan of the horror genre. I might be wrong. But in my eyes, he coined an archetype of its own with his performance there. Warlock – that is a dangerous Black Magic aficionado who’s just been captured, sentenced to death and awaiting his burning-stakes-session in the lovely year of 1688 (or is it 1788? I forgot). Of course, one doesn’t devote one’s entire life to the devil only to be burned on the stakes, then. Satan comes to his rescue and catapults him into the year 1988, where Warlock is supposed to gather the three parts of a devil’s bible, and kills or maims or both, everyone in his way. The second movie follows a similar formula, only that it’s stones he is searching, and the script is an even bigger mess than in the first film.
Poll #1178381 Seriously Evil Blond Wizard Villains
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 3
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 3
come on, who's more evil now?
View Answers
Lucius Malfoy of Chamber of Secrets glory
3 (100.0%)
Warlock, of - well, Warlock, of course! 0 (0.0%)
someone else who's blond, bad and can do evul magic (please explain) 0 (0.0%)
The most memorable, chilling scene, in my eyes, is an encounter between Warlock and a small boy of six, seven years, who is particularly cute. In the previous scene, we learnt that Warlock needs the fat (I think) of children for his flying magic. However, Warlock approaches the boy and they start talking; Warlock discloses that he is ‘a witch’. The kid doesn’t believe him, because witches, ‘they’re girls!’ And also, witches are supposed to carry around brooms, so they can fly. Warlock shoots the boy a sly grin and retorts that he need no broom to fly; he needs ‘other stuff’. – Cut. – In the following scene, the playground where the kid used to sit is deserted, and in the background, a group of people is screaming something like ‘What happened to little Billy?!’
Now to Lucius Malfoy. The original books notwithstanding, he makes his first appearance in the movie Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets (2002), followed by Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire (2005) and Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix (2007), and is in all instances played by British actor Jason Isaacs. All of these movies are worth watching, even if I have my reservations about Goblet OF Fire, but that’s another story. And Lucius Malfoy is definitely one of the most exciting things about them in my eyes, especially in Chamber Of Secrets. He is the father of Harry Potter’s foil and school rival Draco Malfoy (note the knack for eccentric name-giving in the family, and as a faaaaaar aside – Julian Sands plays a character called ‘Greco Montgomery’ in Ocean’s Thirteen, but I guess I’m just about the only one who found that quite funny). Not only is he Draco’s father, Lucius is a nasty piece of work on his own account. Way back, he was one of the leading supporters of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and even though this one’s long disappeared, Lucius didn’t lose his flavour for Dark Magic, bullying of all kinds and shades, and being an arrogant, rich, pompous prick whenever he has a chance to be. He also mistreats his servants (of course he does! Ever seen a villain who had not?!), but again, I’m getting distracted. In Chamber of Secrets, Lucius’ plan is to compromise both his rival Arthur Weasley (father of Harry Potter’s best friend), and the school Headmaster, who are both in the way of his evil agenda. In Goblet of Fire, he’s a bit in the background, though his snivelling for forgiveness when his master Voldemort returns is still delicious to watch. In Order of the Phoenix, he’s got more room to shine again – he’s the head of a riot squad that tries to capture Harry Potter, and he gets some nice duelling scene. He’s also the brother-in-law of Helena Bonham-Carter’s character, which leads me back to Julian Sands via Room With A View – side-tracking, sorry, sorry.
In terms of appearances, these two bear the most striking resemblance. Both have blond, long hair (Warlock wears it in a ponytails, while Lucius has only one scene with that styling; he prefers to go for the Pam Anderson look otherwise), sharp features and dress in very elegant (well, in Warlock’s case: interesting) black robes/leather combat suits. *makes roaring sound here*
Now comparing these two, Warlock would definitely get a huuuge point for being first. In terms of their willingness to get little children killed, they’re on pair (Lucius doesn’t succeed, but it’s not for a lack of trying). Still, on the total-bastard-scale, I guess Lucius loses out nonetheless. As nasty as he is, he still settled and founded a family, and even if one can say with certainty that he’s not getting far as a principle-giving father, he’s still attached to his wife and son, much more than to his old master. Warlock on the other hand has no other commitment than Satan – he wants to be adopted by the Lord of Flies, even. And since I’m judging seriously evil wizards here, I guess Lucius is, ironically, a tad more decent than his rival. Both are ‘cool’ and get some juicy lines of dialogue, I must say though that I like Lucius’ brand of coolness a bit better. There’s a certain suave quality to his attitude that is highly entertaining to watch. On the other hand, I might simply be so partial because I watched Warlock only twice (first time must be fifteen, sixteen years ago, at least, and the second viewing suffered from lateness of hour and high amount of alcoholic beverage) and forgot most of it again. It was for many years the only horror movie I had ever seen (and not many got added to this list at any rate; I’m a queasy chicken) and left a big impression on me, so it should get the benefit of a doubt. Maybe I’m doing neither justice, still I thought that Jason Isaacs had drawn for his performance from his presumed ‘idol’, at least when creating the looks of Lucius, and also a bit of the attitude with which he carries himself. So it would follow that Warlock wins the competition; still I cannot help myself and manipulate the verdict – he and Lucius tie for the first place. You gotta love evil with attitude, and long, black cloaks always make for a grand effect (think: Darth Vader, Matrix, Equilibrium, Sweeney Todd’s black leather cloak, and the unforgettable Alan Rickman both as the Sheriff of Nottingham and Severus Snape as Harry Potter’s least favourite teacher). They're both unforgettable.
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Jane Austen Vamp-Up - You've Got Clueless Mail
Apr. 26th, 2008 | 08:31 am
mood: chipper
music: Kids In America
Clueless vs. You’ve Got Mail
Yes, Jane Austen is among the best, and most plundered authors there can possibly be. Not only today’s contenders draw heavily upon her plots, so do other films such as Bridget Jones, which was a close second in my choice for dissection, but alas! Sometimes you just got to make a decision.
Clueless is an Amy Heckerling movie from 1995, based on Jane Austen’s Emma (which is among my top three all-time-favourite books, guess why the adaptation hit this list, eh?). Like Emma, the heroine of Clueless’, Cher Horowitz (played by Alicia Silverstone), is a spoilt, pampered, but genuinely kind-hearted girl, daughter of a notorious, widowed Beverly Hills litigator, who’s around fifteen, sixteen at the time of the movie. Like Emma, Cher decides that match-making would be an ideal hobby for herself, after landing a big success when coupling two of her teachers in order to improve their overall mood, in order to improve her grades. Her next object is a new student, Taj (think: Harriet Smith), whom she vamps up Beverly Hills-style, and tries to bring together with Elton (as in: Reverend Elton), a boy from her clique. Taj is a most willing object for Cher’s attempts, unfortunately though, Elton isn’t the tiniest bit interested, because he fancies Cher, and also, he’s a bit of a shit. He tries to molest her in a parking lot, and then deserts her in the middle of nowhere when she doesn’t succumb to his ‘charms’. Thinking it could hardly get worse, Cher is robbed five seconds later and forced to ‘ruin’ her ‘Alaïa dress’. Downcast, she calls her stepbrother Josh (enter: Mr Knightley) to help her. Josh is the son of one of Mr Horowitz’s ex-wives; he studies law in order to save the rain forest or something, because he’s a semi-professional altruist and engaged in all kinds of social projects. He’s also highly critical of Cher’s senseless life-style that consists of not much else but shopping, and tells her off constantly, much to her displeasure and scorn.
Cher has to admit her coupling project concerning Taj and Elton has failed, but she doesn’t suffer for long, because a new boy arrives in school – Christian (think: Frank Churchill) – and she decides off the cuff that he is ‘The One’ (until now, she’s been ‘saving herself for Luke Perry’). Well, he dresses so well, doesn’t he! In order to make him notice her, she sends herself flowers, chocolates and cards, unwittingly providing the wrong message, because how would Christian know these aren’t from her potential boyfriend? However, he takes up the cue; being new, he asks her to show him around, and she contrives for them to go to a party together. He fetches her from home, meeting her suspicious father (a hilarious scene!) and Josh, who’s there to help his stepfather with some case. Josh is visibly displeased and suspicious about Cher’s new beau, and that she’s wearing a dress that ‘looks like underwear!’ doesn’t alleviate his concerns. He goes to the party as well to keep an eye on her, and in passing saves Taj from an embarrassing situation by asking her to dance (come on, folks, I suppose you DO know the original, right?). Cher is very proud of him, even though he can’t dance and the evening doesn’t yield much more success. Rather than driving her home, Christian leaves her to Josh’s care and continues partying with some guys. Nonetheless, and to Cher’s sheer delight, he calls her soon after and offers to come ‘round to her place and spend the evening. Being ‘a fan of Tony Curtis’, he brings along the movies Some Like It Hot and ‘Sporadicus’ (well, actually it’s Spartacus), but when Cher tries to make an advance on him, he shrinks away and practically flees. The next day, Cher talks to her friend Dionne about this, and Dionne’s boyfriend discloses that Christian isn’t into women in the first place. Really, the signs were all there, as Cher has to realise as well. Another project failed, but oh well, she’s got more pressing problems. Under her tutelage, Taj has developed into an increasingly unpleasant person, who also tells Cher that she’s supposed to help Taj to ‘get Josh’. Get Josh? Cher is initally bemused, then shocked, and Taj leaves in a huff. Cher on the other hand realises a) that’s she’s totally clueless, and b) why she’s so repelled by the idea of Taj and Josh – she is ‘totally butt crazy in love with Josh!’ Now she doesn’t know how to behave around him – the sending-herself flowers trick or the like wouldn’t work with him (to tell the truth – it didn’t work with Christian either, did it?). So she decides to make a personality make-over, and starts engaging in social projects at her school. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Josh, who’s as awkward around her as vice versa, and following a minor fall-out with one of Mr Horowitz’ employees, Josh and Cher have the classic declaration talk, because as observant watchers must have noticed roughly fifty minutes ago (when he was so anxious about her having her first date with Christian), he’s in love with her, too. Of course he is.
Now the similarities to the book are so glaringly obvious, I don’t think I need to point them out once more, right? Clueless does a brilliant job of transferring the material into present time (well, the Nineties, anyway) and present it with all the lightness, humour and charms that make the book so endearing.
You’ve Got Mail is a Nora Ephron comedy from 1998, very loosely based on Austen’s Pride And Prejudice, starring Meg Ryan as bookseller Kathleen Kelly, owner of a small children’s book ‘Shop Around The Corner’ and Tom Hanks as Joe Fox, of Fox Books, the film’s equivalent to Barnes And Noble or Thalia’s. They’re natural rivals, for Fox Books is about to open a dependence just around the corner from Kathleen small shop, and right at their first encounter, they clash. Both find the other one absolutely insufferable, not knowing that they’re actually pen pals on the internet, going by the names ‘NY152’ and ‘Shopgirl’. On the internet, they quite fancy each other, even though both of them are in relationships. After a while, ‘NY152’ proposes a meeting and hesitantly, Kathleen agrees. Joe is so nervous when going to the date, he asks his colleague to take a look at the unknown woman for him, and has to realise that no one else but Kathleen Kelly is waiting there. Shocked, he can’t bring himself to own up, and for a start goes in, sitting down on her table pretending he was appointed with someone else. Perhaps he would disclose the truth to her, but in her nervousness, Kathleen treats him with such cold contempt that he leaves again, thoroughly disgruntled. Consequently, she believes NY152 had stood her up, and is very downcast. This encounter – or not – has at least one effect. Both realise they’re not happy in their present relationships, and make a new start. They continue writing to each other, but agree that a meeting would be wrong – at least premature. In the meantime, Kathleen has to close down her shop indeed, because she cannot compete with the chain store. Joe – as his real self – visits her to apologise, and since Kathleen must admit that despite all her sadness, the end of the shop means the opening of a new chance for her (she’s been offered to publish a book herself), she grudgingly allows his friendliness. Slowly, they become friends, while simultaneously flirting via the Internet, bringing Kathleen into a bit of a tight spot. She feels that NY152 is a real soul mate for her, but on the other hand she feels more and more attracted to the kind, funny, attentive Joe. As his internet persona, he proposes another meeting; as his real self, he asks her to meet at the same day, just a little earlier. She talks to him about her date with Mr Right later that day, he gives her some bits of advise, and pretty much professes his love for her. She looks at him in real dismay and flees, preparing for her meeting with NY152. At last, seeing who’s waiting for her at the appointed spot, she is overjoyed and cries, “I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly.”
Yes, in this case, the similarity to Austen’s Pride And Prejudice isn’t as obvious as in the case of Clueless. More obvious is the reference to the 1940 movie The Shop Around The Corner, after which Kathleen’s shop is also named. Still, both films draw from the Elizabeth/Mr Darcy antagonism and the ‘prejudice’ as well as the ‘pride’ theme. Like Elizabeth Bennet judges on a first impression and for some time doesn’t allow even contrary evidence to make her change her mind, Kathleen cannot disregard Joe Fox being who he is, on the outside. As charmed as she is by her pen-pal, she can’t bring herself to acknowledge that this Joe Fox guy is just as funny and kind and charming (big surprise, he’s the very same man!), because she’s made up her mind to hate him. Also, her pride forbids her to feel attached to a man whom she makes directly responsible for her economic situation. Joe undergoes a Mr Darcy-like change, too. He starts out as rather high-handed, self-righteous and superficial, but the contact with Kathleen and everything she stands for, does affect him in the most positive way. His sarcasm is softened and turned into far more gentle irony, and he distances himself more from his cynical relations to a degree that makes it hard for Kathleen to choose between him and his internet Alter Ego. The film even makes a joke about the parallels – when Kathleen confesses that she’s read Pride And Prejudice roughly two hundred times (and Joe tries reading it as well, to please her, but has to give up). Well, impoverished Lizzie Bennet Kathleen does get her Mr Darcy rich prince at last, which should please her on the literary level as much as on the emotional.
If I go to compare these two now – Clueless and You’ve Got Mail – I should say for a start that both of them make for a nice, cosy evening with ice cream and a hot water bottle. But Clueless wins the competition nonetheless single-handedly, and I’m not entirely sure why. You’ve Got Mail is a nice movie. Meg Ryan is lovely as always, Tom Hanks is as solid as a rock (and I don’t mean this negatively), their screen chemistry is what it was at Sleepless In Seattle times, the story is nice, there’s witty dialogue… And still, somehow this rocket doesn’t quite take off. Clueless on the other hand looks at first sight like a simple teen comedy, of the sort one doesn’t really need to watch if one’s older than 20. Just that – it isn’t. Regardless of age, it remains charming, highly entertaining, compulsive to watch. Alicia Silverstone rightfully recommended herself for further greatness with this movie (which sadly didn’t really come, unless I’m mistaken), the additional cast is wonderful (among them Scrubs’ Donald Faison, Dan Hedaya as her choleric dad, and Brittany Murphy in her first major role), the soundtrack is delightfully off (from Radiohead over the Beastie Boys to a great version of ‘Kids In America’), and I can say with some certainty that I’ve never seen so many different types of tartan.
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Period Drama Death Match - Persuasion With A View
Apr. 25th, 2008 | 01:31 pm
location: a fluffy cloud
mood: delighted
music: Claire de lune
I quite fancy the idea of doing more Death Matches and compare the comparable (no matter in which regard). So, bear with me. Or just skip it :)
Room With A View vs. Persuasion
Introduction of contenders
Room With A View is a novel by E.M.Forster, which was filmed twice; for the present purpose I’ll merely take a look at the groundbreaking and immensely faithful Merchant/Ivory production from 1985, with Helena Bonham-Carter starring as Lucy Honeychurch, Julian Sands as George Emerson, Maggie Smith as Charlotte Bartlett, Simon Callow as Reverend Beebe, Judy Dench as Eleanor Lavish, Denholm Elliott as old Mr Emerson and Daniel Day-Lewis as Cecil Vyse.
Young Lucy Honeychurch visits Italy at the turn of the Nineteenth/Twentieth century, accompanied by her cousin and chaperone, the elderly spinster Charlotte Bartlett. The story starts with them settling in a ‘Pensione’ in Florence, though to their displeasure, they are not given the promised ‘room with a view’. The eccentric Mr Emerson offers them his own room, together with his son’s, and after some to and fro, Charlotte can be persuaded by the Reverend Beebe to accept. The Emersons have a peculiar standing with the other English guests at the Pensione; they’re sympathising with ‘modern’ views and are regarded either with curious, bemused astonishment, or downright contempt or suspicion. Old Mr Emerson’s manners, though gentle and good-willed, are considered to be too coarse for good company, while his handsome (oooh, is he handsome or what?) son George glories in being taciturn and world-weary. – Later, we’re going to learn he’s a great reader of Byron, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, which may account for some of the gloom.
Another guest at the Pensione is the high-spirited novelist Eleanor Lavish, who first kind of adopts young Lucy and drags her around, and then forms a friendship with Charlotte, who clearly isn’t sure how to handle her exuberant new acquaintance, but is nevertheless drawn to her in a sort of ‘Italian spell’.
One afternoon, Lucy is walking around the town on her own and comes to witness a man being stabbed. She is shocked, and seeing all the blood, she faints – which, luckily, is observed by George Emerson who rushes by and catches her. Waking up again, Lucy is shocked to see the young man before her – her cousin would surely disapprove; Charlotte likes to sniff at pretty much everything, especially when handsome young men are involved – and tries to flee, but he doesn’t let her. He finds the postcards she has bought and lost when fainting, but they are stained with blood; he tries to clean them, but when he fails, he hurls them into the River Arno. Lucy discovers this and questions him about it, and a rather tender conversation ensues. For George, the death of the man marks a turning point in his life; he decides that he wants to cherish life to the fullest and abandon his old sullenness. In this vein, he seizes the first opportunity he gets – namely an excursion to the hills surrounding Florence, and a moment where he is unexpectedly alone with Lucy – and kisses her. Pity they’re not quite as alone as he believed, because Charlotte discovers them and puts an instant end to the scene. She drags Lucy away from him and out of Florence, which is the end of the first part of the movie; the second part takes place in England, or to be more precise: in Tumbridge Wells, the little village where the Honeychurches and Reverend Beebe live.
An uncertain amount of time has lapsed, and Lucy has only just accepted an offer of marriage from the pompous, involuntarily comic aristocrat Cecil Vyse. Her mother and brother Freddie aren’t quite sure how they find Cecil, who cannot help it but show his contempt for pretty much everything connected to country life, and the rural community in which the Honeychurch family lives. To make fun of one of their neighbours, Sir Harry, whom Cecil thinks to be a snob, ironically, he invites two eccentric strangers he meets in a museum, to come to Tumbridge Wells and live in one of Sir Harry’s ‘tasteless’ villas. Cecil thinks that’s a really good joke that’ll teach Sir Harry a lesson. Lucy thinks it’s a disaster, because the two strangers turn out to be Mr Emerson and his son, whom she saw last in Florence after they had just kissed, but of course, she cannot admit to that. To make it all worse for her, her cousin Charlotte comes for a visit. She is the only one who knows of Lucy’s secret, and Lucy’s apprehensions grows by the minute. Indeed, one afternoon, she finds herself in the most awkward situation. Her brother Freddie has befriended young George Emerson and invited him over. Cecil is there, too, and they sit in the gardens with Cecil reading out loud from a book that he finds ridiculous. In that book, there is a scene that is most suspiciously reminiscent of that one afternoon in the hillside of Florence, and not only does Lucy get the sudden certainty that Charlotte has been indiscreet and forwarded what she’s seen there to Eleanor Lavish, she also finds herself alone with George once more, and he kisses her again. Her consternation is bottomless, and she insists on Charlotte being present when she tells off George, and makes it unmistakable that she never wants to see him again. He tries to argue with her, make her see how much he loves her for being who she is, and that someone like Cecil will never be capable to feel the same sort of unreserved love for her, but she will not listen and dismisses him.
Well, as firm as she may appear in that moment, as touched she is nonetheless, and almost immediately calls off her engagement with Cecil. In a weird fit of pride, she wants to make sure though that the Emersons do not hear of these news, and announces that she’ll go on another journey together with some old acquaintances. At the same time, and indeed unwitting, the Emersons decide that they’ll move away from Tumbridge Wells. George has disclosed his feelings for Lucy to his father, and this one doesn’t want to see his son so pained. The only person who is in the know of the entire situation is Charlotte Bartlett; she is eaten up by guilt – for not taking proper care of Lucy in Italy, for revealing the secret to Eleanor Lavish, she even feels responsible for creating the situation after reading from the novel when George kissed Lucy for the second time. And something very interesting happens with the stiff old spinster. Instead of blaming and rejecting George, as one would expect of someone like her, she has a kind of epiphany about the two young people’s feelings and acts accordingly. She contrives an encounter between old Mr Emerson and Lucy, in which the former talks about his plan to desert his new house and move elsewhere. Lucy is upset by this – after all, she merely wants to leave because she’s scared to meet George again – and Mr Emerson coaxes her into admitting her true feelings for George, whom she has been in love with all the time. The film ends with George and Lucy having eloped and visiting Florence once more, where they inhabit ‘the room with the view’ once again.
Both book and movie show the maturing of a young woman, who struggles with her confined life in late Victorian/Edwardian England, the expectations of her family and friends, and her own nature, which is more passionate and feeling than she allows herself to let on. George Emerson represents the breaking of a new age, with new ideals and less conventions and restraints. In the end – and this is the one point in which the film slightly deviates from the novel – she acts against her family’s wishes and even risks alienation from them, to be with the man she loves and live her life to its full potential.
Persuasion deals with a similar subject. The novel was Jane Austen’s last completed, and arguably one of her most mature, perfect works. It was produced for the BBC in 1995, starring Amanda Root as Anne Elliot, Ciarán Hinds as Captain Frederick Wentworth, Susan Fleetwood as Lady Russell, Felicity Dean as Mrs Clay, Samuel West as young Mr Elliot and Corin Redgrave as Sir Walter Elliot.
The story’s heroine is Anne Elliot, a no-longer-so-young (27 must be regarded as close to spinsterhood in Regency times) second daughter of a vain, squandering minor aristocrat, Sir Walter, who is the source for much comic because he is such a ridiculous man. Anne is hard off in each and every respect. Her mother died long ago, and since then, she is the only sensible person in a household full of silly people, who show her no respect, or affection, at all (her older sister Elizabeth is their father’s declared favourite, and just as absurd as he is), and who spend far more money to maintain their extravagant lifestyle than they can afford. The film start with them being more or less evicted from their sumptuous home Kellynch Hall, driven out by the gentle persuasion of their friend and neighbour Lady Russell. That Lady Russell was a close friend of Anne’s dead mother and is Anne’s only real friend in the world, even if she’s considerably much older; consequently, she’s got an enormous amount of influence over the young woman. Eight years ago, she persuaded her to call off an engagement with a young officer of the Royal Navy, Frederick Wentworth, who had ‘nothing to recommend himself’ but engaging manners and a lot of confidence. Anne genuinely loved this man, but bowed to her friend’s advise then, agreeing that a long engagement (until Frederick had earned enough money to be capable of affording matrimony) would not do. Lady Russell calculated that a pretty, well-bred, intelligent young lady of standing like Anne would easily find a ‘better’ suitor, but she calculated wrongly. Anne never accepted anybody else’s proposal, her beauty faded before time due to her unhappiness, and she never could forget her first, and only love.
However, Kellynch Hall is let to an Admiral Croft and Anne’s father and sister move to the fashionable spa resort Bath, where Anne is supposed to join them after paying a visit to her younger sister Mary, who is married to the respectable gentleman, and former suitor of Anne, Charles Musgrove. The Musgrove clan poses as a counterfoil to the Elliot family; they’re as happy as could be (with the exception of Mary, who’s as silly as her father and oldest sister). Charles and Mary, together with their children, live close to the old Mr and Mrs Musgrove, and Charles’ two younger sisters Louisa and Henrietta, who are the epitome of homely felicity and affectionate family life. To Anne’s incredulous horror, she realises that Admiral Croft is no other than Frederick Wentworth’s brother-in-law, and the man himself arrives to visit his sister. Even before she meets him again, she hears much praise of the dashing young Captain, who’s made a fortune in the meantime, and who is the toast of every young woman in the neighbourhood, even the already betrothed Henrietta. Their encounter is inevitable on the long run (not that Anne doesn’t attempt stalling as much as she possibly can), and a grave disappointment for Anne. Frederick acts cold, almost contemptuous around her, treating her like a remote acquaintance – nobody in present company has any idea of those two being engaged at one point in their life, not even Mary – and dallying around with the cheerful Musgrove sisters instead. Realising that Henrietta is already engaged, he concentrates on Louisa, even though it is rather obvious that he has no real interest in her, and is mainly driven by his old anger with Anne. He thinks that it was wrong of her to be so easily persuadable, back then, and consequently recommends Louisa’s more independent character. That independence is bordering on wilfulness and sheer stupidity though, resulting in a rather grave accident, in which Louisa sustains a severe head injury. Only then, Frederick realises that his flirtation has been thoroughly misinterpreted by pretty much everyone, and that he must regard himself as good as engaged to the girl. He also realises Anne’s true superiority of mind, and that his old feelings for her, injured as they were, have never truly ceased. But what can he do? He’s bound to another.
Anne travels to Bath, finding her father and sister in high spirits, and accompanied by their cousin Mr Elliot, a young, alluring widower who’s presumed to be quite rich and who rejected his relations for many years, now seeking reconciliation. Another member of the party is Elizabeth’s close friend Mrs Clay, a widow herself and of no particular social standing, that Elizabeth bestows all affection to that she cannot muster for her own sister. Elizabeth fancies Mr Elliot, who is and always was the only ‘suitable’ husband in her eyes, since he’ll be the heir to Kellynch Hall and her father’s title and position because there is no other male heir. Mr Elliot, on the other hand, shows a clear preference for Anne from the very first moment when they meet, and courts her very charmingly and persistently. She does feel flattered by his advances, and Lady Russell urges her to accept him so she would step into her dead mother’s shoes as the next Mistress of Kellynch Hall. Anne has every reason to believe that Frederick Wentworth will soon marry Louisa Musgrove, nonetheless she is hesitant. In Bath, she also chances to meet an old school friend, Mrs Smith, an invalid widow (many widows and widowers in this story, eh? Lady Russell is a widow, too) of no financial means, whom the other Elliots sneer upon. Nonetheless, Anne prevails, ignores their protests and continues that friendship of old.
Speaking of Frederick Wentworth – he, too, comes to Bath, just like his sister and Admiral Croft. Utterly astonished, Anne comes to hear that Louisa Musgrove has got engaged to another man, a melancholic sailor, whom she came to know better during her illness, and who lost his last fiancée to a disease. Frederick doesn’t appear to feel slighted in the least degree, quite the contrary, and he tacitly tries to advance Anne. Meeting Lady Russell again, however, and seeing the outspoken courtship of Mr Elliot, he shrinks away again. To complete his misery, his brother-in-law gives him a commission, namely to offer Anne that the Admiral would move out of Kellynch Hall at once, because he presumes that she is soon to become Mr Elliot’s wife and would therefore want to move back to the family seat. Anne is beyond surprise, hurt by Frederick’s apparent disinterest, and also speechless by the fact that the whole society of Bath seems to regard her as practically engaged to her cousin, as if she had no say in the matter at all. She ventures her indignation in the presence of Mrs Smith, the only person she can talk to without reserve, and Mrs Smith shows herself quite relieved, hearing that Anne has no intention to marry Mr Elliot, for Mrs Smith has come to hear that Mr Elliot is no good news (in the book, he’s even worse, namely the man responsible for Mrs Smith’s destitution, but the film does not take up that cue). He’s impoverished and living, in secret, in his friends’ money, so he’s relying to become the next master of Kellynch Hall and restore his finances. He is afraid of the influence of Mrs Clay, whom he believes to try luring in Sir Walter, which would mean that this one could, after all, still beget a male heir and thus throw off Mr Elliot’s claim to the title. He hoped that, securing Anne’s hand, he would have enough influence in the family to discourage any possible liaison between Sir Walter and any other woman, especially Mrs Clay. Anne understands that she has no more responsibility towards this man, no matter in which quarter, and when she, not much later, encounters Frederick again, she tries to talk to him, but they’re surrounded by the entire Musgrove family and some others. Frederick is writing a letter, and Anne converses with a fellow officer of him (the brother of the dead girl that Louisa Musgrove’s new fiancé was formerly engaged to – oh, just forget it. The only important matter here is that the officer is upset that his dead sister was so soon forgotten by the man who formerly professed to love her so much). The officer expresses his disappointment, because a man’s love isn’t supposed to die so easily, Anne replies with some sympathy both for his, and the bereaved sailor’s situation, and he retorts that, yes, female love might be so fickle, but man’s should be more constant. Anne then makes some remarks about the constancy of woman’s love and that it might be more persistent than man’s, and Frederick drops his pen. He needs to leave for an errant, alongside everybody else, but before he disappears, he secretly slips Anne a letter, in which he professes how much he loves her, has never stopped to love her, and that she must not doubt the consistency of his feelings for her. Utterly overcome by emotion, Anne ventures home, meeting Frederick on the way, they reconcile, kiss, and that same evening, Frederick calls on her father to make the whole thing complete. The film ends with Anne standing beside her husband aboard a ship he commands.
This story, too, deals with a young woman, this time in Regency England, coming to terms with herself, her own wishes, her family’s expectations and claims. Anne has always allowed others to decide what’s best for her, and suffered much from the consequences. Frederick Wentworth, on the other hand, stands for a more modern principle, ascending in and thus overcoming the conservative social class system by his own merits, and also a member of a ‘mobile’ class – contrasting the ‘landed gentry’ that Anne and her family belong to. In the end, Anne, like Lucy Honeychurch, is separated from her conservative family and starting into a new life; she, too, does so at the start of a ‘new age’ – Europe in post-Napoleonean times.
Both stories bear certain similarities, apart from the obvious ‘young woman finds her own place in the world and the proper man to be with’ theme. Both women find themselves torn between a man of lower standing whom they love, and another suitor who represents everything their families should dream of for them. Cecil Vyse is simply a ridiculous buffoon, Mr Elliot a downright villain (he had to be, in Austen’s time, or Anne wouldn’t so easily have received the readers’ sympathies when letting down her family’s expectations. Since the times have considerably changed since then, the movie didn’t need to dwell on Mr Elliot’s vices so much to reach the same end). Both women struggle with these ‘approved’ suitors (Lucy rejects Cecil’s first two proposals before succumbing to the third one; Anne doesn’t answer Mr Elliot’s advances). Both women do not quite ‘fit’ into their families – on Anne’s part, that’s not for a lack of trying (again, Austen had to paint the Elliots in an unfavourable light in order to make it possible for Anne to justifiably disentangle herself from their clutches); in Lucy’s case, it’s a not closer elaborated disquietude and restlessness, embodied by her passionate play on the piano, hinting there’s more to her than the calm, composed lady that meets the eye. Both heroes are ‘misfits’ to some degree. George Emerson is a free-thinking socialist, on height of the time’s most progressive thinking. Frederick Wentworth, before his steep rising in the Navy ranks which makes him more ‘suitable’ for society, was a simple man without social rank or fortune, and thus quite out of the question for the daughter of a baronet. Both girls, after initially succumbing to youthful rush, draw away from their true lovers, guided by older, decidedly conservative guardians. (Both girls, incidentally and slightly trivially, are recommended for their supreme command of the piano, but this only as an aside!). Both stories are set to take place in a period of historic change, and the heroines have to choose between the old-fashioned world of security, and the more insecure, but decidedly freer perspectives of modernity.
Now for the differences – the most notable being the production standards, clearly. Room With A View was produced for the screen, by a seasoned team specialised on period pieces. It dwells in lavish sets and the most incredibly beautiful shots of ‘old’ Florence (I can’t imagine how they accomplished these, but oh, well) and photography of the English countryside at its best, loveliest and most picturesque. Everything looks wonderful, the actors are wonderful, as far as faithful adaptations of a novel go, you can’t come much closer to perfection… What can I say? This film deserved every award it got, and would have deserved many more in my humble opinion. BBC’s Persuasion is more modest in its approach. As an adaptation, it can well stand its ground to the other contender, even though it’s, of course, drastically shortened, and features one scene (Frederick asking Anne whether his brother-in-law had better move out of the rented estate) that did not make it to Austen’s final edition, but which is taken quite verbatim from her earlier drafts, and fits into the material like hand and glove. One can wonder whether Austen herself wouldn’t have picked up the scene once more, had she lived to see the publication of her last work, but that is pure speculation. Anyway, it is visible that this film was shot for television; the scale of the pictures isn’t as grand, and while everything is done lovingly and in great detail, it cannot truly compete with the Merchant/Ivory scale. In one respect, however, Persuasion is certainly en par with Room With A View – namely in the acting department. Ciarán Hinds makes a marvellous Wentworth and brings across all facets of the character – the shiny, dashing war hero, the grudging, disappointed lover, the careless, high-spirited young man as much as the more mature and considerate man of experience, the tender, fearful lover at last that contrasts his former boosts of self-confidence so charmingly. Amanda Root’s Anne engages the audience’s sympathies from the very first moment when she steps on scene, as fragile in the emotional department as she is upright and firm in other respects, a wounded creature that never overcame her loss – and watching her budding and bloom as soon as meeting Frederick again is an immense pleasure. And Fleetwood manages to make Lady Russell indeed very likeable, despite her role in the whole debacle. The minor characters are excellently cast, too. The producers might not have spent as much money as a big screen production can, but they made up amply in other quarters.
I should say a few words about the casting of Room With A View, to avoid a wrong impression: it’s wonderful, simply wonderful. Maggie Smith is as terrific as always and impersonates Charlotte like no one else could have in my eyes (but as far as I am concerned, Maggie could try impersonating a flag pole and I’d still be excited. I’m a biased judge). Helena Bonham-Carter and Julian Sands were still at the beginning of their acting careers when doing this movie, but one can tell why they became such stars afterwards, because they carry the film effortlessly. Sands’ George is so appealing, you are aghast when Lucy accepts that Cecil Vyse (at that point, you haven’t yet grasped what an idiot that one is, and still, it seems unbelievable when one has seen her former suitor), he is charming, he is interesting, he is amiable and a little bit mysterious. Bonham-Carter’s Lucy is THE most charming creature, a little sulky here, a little desperate there, and she conveys with her face alone the entire emotional life of her character. Bravo! Then there’s Judi Dench, I mean, do I even have to comment on this; Simon Callow’s Reverend is a jovial, congenial fellow, the two elderly ladies whose names escape me just now are lovely, Denholm Elliott is as amiable as you can imagine… Really, it’s fantastic, I merely mention this because I thought I should.
Anyway, my aim was to compare these two movies, and now I get the feeling how unfair any judgement would be. The only points in which Persuasion would loose are owed to the different medium for which it was produced. It’s simply unfair to compare a TV production to a big screen production, no matter how brilliant. In every respect that truly matters, Persuasion is on eye-level not only with Room With A View, but pretty much every high-quality period production. All that remains for me to say is: Go, rent these movies! They’re great! And if you’re into reading, go and devour the books as well, because they’re both masterpieces in themselves. Here’s two of the ‘originals’ that delivered the blueprints for all RomCom pleasure eversince, and not only that, but also serious development of character, done with elegance of style and knowledge of human nature.
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Cinematic Death Match - Bring It Up, Doc!
Apr. 24th, 2008 | 02:29 pm
location: NOT in my bathtub, obviously!
mood: impatient
music: I don't want to be waiting in vain for your love...
thanks to ms-arithmancer, I re-discovered my account here, and thought I might just as well write something while waiting for the plumber to show up. Wondering what I might write about, I came up with the idea to post an irregular series of reviews, so instead of only boring my friends, I could bore the whole world wide web :D
Today's contestants are: Bringing Up Baby (1938) vs. What's Up, Doc? (1972)
Summary
Bringing Up Baby is a classical screwball comedy by Howard Hawks from 1938, starring Katherine Hepburn as chirpy, eccentric Susan Vance and Cary Grant as nerdy palaeonthologist David Huxley. Those two meet on a golf course by coincidence, while David is trying to make a good impression on Mr Peabody, the representative of a rich lady, who might, or might not, grant a million dollars to David's museum. With Susan in the vicinity, David has a hard time of making a good impression, and that he's both waiting for the final bone for his dinosaur skeleton, and about to get married on the following day does not improve the state of his nerves. Ignoring the old saying 'You never get a second chance on making a first impression', David has another appointment with Mr Peabody that evening, and comes across Susan again, much to his disapproval, even though she realises she rather likes him. Their second meeting is as ill-fated as the first encounter - and the same is unfortunately true for Mr Peabody, whom David misses once more. However, Susan is determined to not let the man get married on the next day, and comes up with a rather bizarre plan. Her brother Mark has sent her a leopard from Brazil, called Baby, "gentle as a kitten, fond of dogs" and also of the song 'I can't give you anything but love Baby'. She calls David, claiming she needs his expertise, and when David tells her he's got not the least intention to ever see her again, she pretends the leopard had attacked her. David instantly rushes off to help her, and by a series of entanglements ends up accompanying Susan to her Aunt Elizabeth's Connecticut estate. The longer they stay together, the worse things get for David. Not only is his bone - the final bone for the Brontosaurus skeleton - stolen and hidden by George, the dog of Aunt Elizabeth. He also misses to show up for his own wedding - which is for the better, surely, since his fiancée Miss Swallow is a rather prim creature, who has told him three lines into the movie - "nothing must come between you and your work. Our marriage must contain no domestic entanglements of any kind. I mean, any kind, David!" He also loses his clothes, his last nerve, and then, on top, discovers that 'Aunt Elizabeth' - who thinks he's a lunatic on the verge of a nervous breakdown - is identical with the rich Mrs Random, the potential well-doer for his museum, who mustn't find out by all means that he is the David Huxley. Baby can escape from the stable to which Susan and David confined her; the two have to search for him without Aunt Elizabeth noticing, and another leopard from a nearby circus is freed by the two hobby-hunters, mistaking that vicious animal for the sweet-natured baby. The big showdown takes place in jail, to which by and by all characters are sent one way or another, including both leopards. Oh, and Susan finally professes her love for David, though in the given moment, he is rather preoccupied by the attacking circus leopard.
What's Up, Doc? is a slapstick/screwball comedy by Peter Bogdanovic from 1972, featuring Barbra Streisand as quirky, chaos-is-following-her-wherever-she-goes Judy Maxwell, and Ryan O'Neal as the nerdy, not-from-this-world music anthropologist Dr Howard Bannister. (sounds familiar? Oh, well, guess why I chose to compare these two!). This movie doesn't come with tame leopards and dogs, but prominently features half a dozen tartan overnight bags. Howard Bannister got one, containing his collection of musical flint stones (don't ask) - he also got a nervous, bossy fiancée called Eunice Burns, who has a similar attitude towards marriage as Miss Swallow - "I'm not looking for romance, Howard." Both of them want to attend a convention of musicologists, to try gaining a twenty-thousand dollar grant from the rich Mr Larrabee for Howard's musical studies of rock formations.
Then, there's also a bag containing some super-secret documents, which are hunted by a seedy agent, and a bag stuffed full with jewels, which is the prime object of a bunch of thieves. However, Judy and Howard meet - Judy is delighted, Howard is repelled, and the plot unravels in a rather indescribable way, eventually landing all major characters and most of the minor ones in front of a judge, after they laid half of San Francisco in ashes and chaos.
For a start - both films are among the best comedies I've ever seen. The comic timing, the sheer speed, the dialogue, the witticism, the acting is absolutely impeccable. Both movies take place in a twenty-four hour time window, and go down the downward spiral with highly amusing, accelerating speed. Both movies are worth a rent; I would even go so far and say they're worth purchasing, as one can see them over and over again. I wouldn't have anything to complain about What's Up, Doc? if it weren't for the glaring resemblances to its predecessor Bringing Up Baby in comparison. The principal situation, the characterisation of the leading protagonists, why, even the winning-a-grant problem is almost identical, and therefore, I have to deduce an originality-of-script point from Bogdanovic's excellent flick. Hawks' work also scores in some other respects. While I admire Madam Streisand's command of voice and talent, I prefer the ironic way in which Bringing Up Baby handles its theme song - the actors croon it in order to lull in the leopard, and they do it loudly and falsely. Also, this film has the best animal deal I can think of, off the top of my head. Baby, the leopard, and George, the dog, are cute in their own way, and fun to watch, but they are mere plot devices, and don't pester themselves into the foreground. I'm not speaking of the Piglet Babe genre, but of comedies where human actors are mere extras around the antics of some cute dog, mostly.
Next thing - the acting. Now Barbara Streisand and Ryan O'Neal deliver absolutely immaculate performances, there's really nothing to criticise when one is fair. But who could stand up to the comparison with Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn, the blueprint for comedic coupling ever since? If you want a proof, take a look at their other collaboration, Philadelphia Story from 1940. They're 'the top', as Barbra Streisand sings in What's Up, Doc? It doesn't get any better than this, they're simply the original. (I would like to give the same piece of advise to all the George Clooney fans out there - you love George? Take a look at Cary, he invented the sexy-middle-aged-man-with-silvery-temple
After all's said and done, Bringing Up Baby wins fair and square against What's Up, Doc? which is, in turn, one of the most solid second places you could wish for.
...and talking about 'said and done' - plumber STILL hasn't made an appearance. Seeing how late it is by now, I venture the guess that he'll not come today. Grumble.
Today's contestants are: Bringing Up Baby (1938) vs. What's Up, Doc? (1972)
Summary
Bringing Up Baby is a classical screwball comedy by Howard Hawks from 1938, starring Katherine Hepburn as chirpy, eccentric Susan Vance and Cary Grant as nerdy palaeonthologist David Huxley. Those two meet on a golf course by coincidence, while David is trying to make a good impression on Mr Peabody, the representative of a rich lady, who might, or might not, grant a million dollars to David's museum. With Susan in the vicinity, David has a hard time of making a good impression, and that he's both waiting for the final bone for his dinosaur skeleton, and about to get married on the following day does not improve the state of his nerves. Ignoring the old saying 'You never get a second chance on making a first impression', David has another appointment with Mr Peabody that evening, and comes across Susan again, much to his disapproval, even though she realises she rather likes him. Their second meeting is as ill-fated as the first encounter - and the same is unfortunately true for Mr Peabody, whom David misses once more. However, Susan is determined to not let the man get married on the next day, and comes up with a rather bizarre plan. Her brother Mark has sent her a leopard from Brazil, called Baby, "gentle as a kitten, fond of dogs" and also of the song 'I can't give you anything but love Baby'. She calls David, claiming she needs his expertise, and when David tells her he's got not the least intention to ever see her again, she pretends the leopard had attacked her. David instantly rushes off to help her, and by a series of entanglements ends up accompanying Susan to her Aunt Elizabeth's Connecticut estate. The longer they stay together, the worse things get for David. Not only is his bone - the final bone for the Brontosaurus skeleton - stolen and hidden by George, the dog of Aunt Elizabeth. He also misses to show up for his own wedding - which is for the better, surely, since his fiancée Miss Swallow is a rather prim creature, who has told him three lines into the movie - "nothing must come between you and your work. Our marriage must contain no domestic entanglements of any kind. I mean, any kind, David!" He also loses his clothes, his last nerve, and then, on top, discovers that 'Aunt Elizabeth' - who thinks he's a lunatic on the verge of a nervous breakdown - is identical with the rich Mrs Random, the potential well-doer for his museum, who mustn't find out by all means that he is the David Huxley. Baby can escape from the stable to which Susan and David confined her; the two have to search for him without Aunt Elizabeth noticing, and another leopard from a nearby circus is freed by the two hobby-hunters, mistaking that vicious animal for the sweet-natured baby. The big showdown takes place in jail, to which by and by all characters are sent one way or another, including both leopards. Oh, and Susan finally professes her love for David, though in the given moment, he is rather preoccupied by the attacking circus leopard.
What's Up, Doc? is a slapstick/screwball comedy by Peter Bogdanovic from 1972, featuring Barbra Streisand as quirky, chaos-is-following-her-wherever-she-goes Judy Maxwell, and Ryan O'Neal as the nerdy, not-from-this-world music anthropologist Dr Howard Bannister. (sounds familiar? Oh, well, guess why I chose to compare these two!). This movie doesn't come with tame leopards and dogs, but prominently features half a dozen tartan overnight bags. Howard Bannister got one, containing his collection of musical flint stones (don't ask) - he also got a nervous, bossy fiancée called Eunice Burns, who has a similar attitude towards marriage as Miss Swallow - "I'm not looking for romance, Howard." Both of them want to attend a convention of musicologists, to try gaining a twenty-thousand dollar grant from the rich Mr Larrabee for Howard's musical studies of rock formations.
Then, there's also a bag containing some super-secret documents, which are hunted by a seedy agent, and a bag stuffed full with jewels, which is the prime object of a bunch of thieves. However, Judy and Howard meet - Judy is delighted, Howard is repelled, and the plot unravels in a rather indescribable way, eventually landing all major characters and most of the minor ones in front of a judge, after they laid half of San Francisco in ashes and chaos.
For a start - both films are among the best comedies I've ever seen. The comic timing, the sheer speed, the dialogue, the witticism, the acting is absolutely impeccable. Both movies take place in a twenty-four hour time window, and go down the downward spiral with highly amusing, accelerating speed. Both movies are worth a rent; I would even go so far and say they're worth purchasing, as one can see them over and over again. I wouldn't have anything to complain about What's Up, Doc? if it weren't for the glaring resemblances to its predecessor Bringing Up Baby in comparison. The principal situation, the characterisation of the leading protagonists, why, even the winning-a-grant problem is almost identical, and therefore, I have to deduce an originality-of-script point from Bogdanovic's excellent flick. Hawks' work also scores in some other respects. While I admire Madam Streisand's command of voice and talent, I prefer the ironic way in which Bringing Up Baby handles its theme song - the actors croon it in order to lull in the leopard, and they do it loudly and falsely. Also, this film has the best animal deal I can think of, off the top of my head. Baby, the leopard, and George, the dog, are cute in their own way, and fun to watch, but they are mere plot devices, and don't pester themselves into the foreground. I'm not speaking of the Piglet Babe genre, but of comedies where human actors are mere extras around the antics of some cute dog, mostly.
Next thing - the acting. Now Barbara Streisand and Ryan O'Neal deliver absolutely immaculate performances, there's really nothing to criticise when one is fair. But who could stand up to the comparison with Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn, the blueprint for comedic coupling ever since? If you want a proof, take a look at their other collaboration, Philadelphia Story from 1940. They're 'the top', as Barbra Streisand sings in What's Up, Doc? It doesn't get any better than this, they're simply the original. (I would like to give the same piece of advise to all the George Clooney fans out there - you love George? Take a look at Cary, he invented the sexy-middle-aged-man-with-silvery-temple
After all's said and done, Bringing Up Baby wins fair and square against What's Up, Doc? which is, in turn, one of the most solid second places you could wish for.
...and talking about 'said and done' - plumber STILL hasn't made an appearance. Seeing how late it is by now, I venture the guess that he'll not come today. Grumble.
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Reflections About Teachers
Aug. 14th, 2007 | 01:13 pm
location: Memory Lane
mood: 
rejuvenated
The Severus thread got me thinking of old times, and my own teachers.
When I was twelve, thirteen, I got a horrible PE teacher. Boy, he was mean. I should explain beforehand that I was a very short kid at that age, and that it was just the time when I had very suddenly and very quickly grown everywhere but in height. I looked like a cartoon character come to real life, no kidding, I was struck with a huge bosom that had grown out of nothingness within less than six month (I can still wear the same bras like then, but I've grown a foot and still have a very big chest), and the same was true for my hips. I had great difficulties to co-ordinate my every movement, and things like running had all of a sudden become challenging.
So, sports was mandatory as a class in school, and I had this teacher, Mr J. That guy haunted me for two years, with comments like 'I wonder why you're still bothering to attend this class, as fat as you are.' Or, another of my favourites - 'I don't understand why you're not better in long distance running. Sure, with a body like yours, you're no good for sprinting, but the physical laws should make you a natural long-distance runner. You know, once the mass is set into motion, it cannot but roll on -'
He said these things in front of the entire class, consisting of a whole lot of girls who were nothing if not skinny. Did I despise him? Oh yes, I did. But he didn't hurt me. He was nothing to me, I had no wish to win his good opinion, and I thought he was just a sad bastard. I had a couple of teachers in the course of time, bullies, but if anything, they kindled a fire of resistance in me. In any other class but sports, they challenged me and incited a stubborn wish to show them. I was a very good student, but lazy, very lazy. I never had to bother to get good grades, and today I understand that the bullying was meant to be challenging. 'You're good, girl, why don't you bloody try and get excellent?'
This is obviously not the case for ol' Mr J. I never felt the slightest wish to prove him wrong, why should I. I knew that my performance was as good as it gets, I did a whole lot of sports when I was younger than that, training four times a week, swimming, gymnastics, running, because my sports-enthusiastic grandfather hoped he could mold me into some sort of athlete. I have no talent, all the training, four, five times per week didn't bring out any hidden talent at all. For my grandfather's sake I tried, because I love him very much. For my PE teacher though - what the fuck! I did what I had to do to pass the class, and amuse myself by glowering at him in sheer contempt whenever we met.
I was reminded of him when reading in the Severus thread, thinking that a teacher like this one would have been a walk in the park, compared to some of the ones in real life. And all of them, or rather, none of them, has left me back with any damage. Rather the opposite (in the cases of the other teachers, who successfully passed on the message "You can be better than just 'good'"). I have difficulties to imagine why anyone would care for their teacher's sympathy, if they so clearly didn't like them to begin with. Maybe that's how I was raised. I was taught by my grandparents to be independent and go by my own judgement, and if I was entirely alone in thinking something, well, that's all right, stand up for your opinion then if you truly believe it's right. That doesn't mean I don't value the opinions of other people, but I make a judgement first how 'authorative' they are to me.
My mum works as a teacher, and by what she tells me, and by what I see, I can only draw the conclusion that something's going very wrong with education these days. I don't know why, but many parents seem to have stopped bothering to teach their kids something, entirely relying on school to stand in for them instead. School isn't the primary place to learn values, rules, social behaviour. A child should already have a concise idea about that when it enters school for the first time, and that's the parents' job, damn it.
And if something's going wrong, they always blame the teachers first, instead of wondering what they missed in giving to their kids. Sure, there are some appallingly bad teachers out there. But it's only a real problem if that teacher is incompetent regarding their subject. I never hurt because of my PE teacher because I had a healthy self-esteem to begin with - it wasn't his job to give me that, my family did. I think more and more people forget what school is about, and expect the teacher not only to be teaching, but be a psychologist, social worker, oh, and teach them some of life's basic necessities in passing, too, like respect, or how they're supposed to behave to others. Take some responsibility, guys! They're your kids! It's up to you to prepare them, protect them. And protection doesn't mean that you run to the school and complain how it's possible that your incredibly bright kid is cocking it up - 'he's not like that at home!'. In my opinion, protection is that you give them what they need to interact fruitfully with others, that they can stand up for themselves if necessary, that they've understood 'the rules of the game' when they join it.
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Men And Facial Hair
Aug. 10th, 2007 | 04:40 pm
mood: mystified
It is official. Not even Alan Rickman can pull off a bushy moustache (I just saw a clip on youtube from Truly Madly Deeply). I thought if anyone could do it, it must certainly be him, but nope. The moustache sucks, even on lovely Alan.
What makes a man grow a walruss moustache? I mean - what are they thinking? Not only that it looks beyond stupid - it's an obstacle for eating, drinking, smoking, kissing. Where's the merit? Why would anyone deliberately want to look like that?
What makes a man grow a walruss moustache? I mean - what are they thinking? Not only that it looks beyond stupid - it's an obstacle for eating, drinking, smoking, kissing. Where's the merit? Why would anyone deliberately want to look like that?
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Test failed! ... or not!
Aug. 9th, 2007 | 07:49 pm
mood: 
enthralled
I took the test, and god knows I don't know how I could end up with this result
What do the Harry Potter adults think of you?
Result #6Albus Dumbledore wishes you hadnt joined Voldemorts side.Lord Voldemort sees you as his most valuable Death Eater.Minerva McGonagall wonders how such a good student turned out so evil.Severus Snape is madly in love with and would do anything for you and is the only person who understands you.Rubeus Hagrid thinks youre strange.Horace Slughorn thinks you were one of his best students.Sirius Black secretly loves you and curses Severus for being the one that got you.Remus Lupin doesnt understand why Sirius loves you since youre evil.Bill Weasley isnt totally convinced youre not that evil.Lucius Malfoy thinks youre a great Death Eater.Bellatrix Lestrange doesnt trust you and tries to convince Voldemort youre a traitor.Peter Pettigrew doesnt trust you either.
I'm not that evil! As a matter of fact, I'm not evil AT ALL! Really, believe me! I'm a very, very nice person! I merely checked the boxes about rather wanting to shag Lucius Malfoy than Tom Riddle (how come Voldy likes me that much???), and not wanting to shag Sirius by all means - but HEY, Severus Snape loves me, I can live with that! On a second thought, I love it! I would never have ditched him for freaking James Potter :lol:
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first time, first - well, let's see if it's going to be love
Aug. 8th, 2007 | 11:46 pm
mood: 
confused
so this is my first entry... I am QUITE confused about this site... Thanks to alwaysholly and zomgjess for welcoming me so warmly - I saw that apparently you each sent me a note, but I haven't figured out yet how to read it (yes, I know, I'm probably a hopeless case)
when the internet started back then in the nineties, I was dead sure that it was just a fancy invention that wouldn't last. I couldn't see the point in it at all. now I see it, but my computer knowledge is as poor as it was then. incidentally, I had the same take on mobile phones - I thought they'd be just some idiotic fashion hype, SOOO expensive, and in two years, people would laugh about the frenzy. well, thank god I didn't become a broker telling my clients they were stupid if they wanted to invest in computers or mobile phones...
it is so terribly warm, it rained all day, yet it's HOT, and everything around me is sticking, which is really disgusting. my neighbours are listening to very loud music, and some other neighbours are standing in the hallway shouting at them to tone down the sound. it would be funny if the music wasn't so crappy. and the only thing I ate today were some chocolate rests, because I got no food in the house, and it was raining too hard for my taste to go out. now I'm hungry - sticky - unnerved - and puzzled, though on a second thought I might be so puzzled because I haven't eaten anything so far (and guys, it's midnight right now). where is that magic fairy bringing me lasagna? still waiting for it to show up.
when the internet started back then in the nineties, I was dead sure that it was just a fancy invention that wouldn't last. I couldn't see the point in it at all. now I see it, but my computer knowledge is as poor as it was then. incidentally, I had the same take on mobile phones - I thought they'd be just some idiotic fashion hype, SOOO expensive, and in two years, people would laugh about the frenzy. well, thank god I didn't become a broker telling my clients they were stupid if they wanted to invest in computers or mobile phones...
it is so terribly warm, it rained all day, yet it's HOT, and everything around me is sticking, which is really disgusting. my neighbours are listening to very loud music, and some other neighbours are standing in the hallway shouting at them to tone down the sound. it would be funny if the music wasn't so crappy. and the only thing I ate today were some chocolate rests, because I got no food in the house, and it was raining too hard for my taste to go out. now I'm hungry - sticky - unnerved - and puzzled, though on a second thought I might be so puzzled because I haven't eaten anything so far (and guys, it's midnight right now). where is that magic fairy bringing me lasagna? still waiting for it to show up.