The Center Seat

Mr. Nayana was working late the other night, so I took the opportunity to curl up with Zoe the Putty Tat, a bottle of Door Peninsula American Riesling (a holdover from my kickass bachelorette party), and Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy.

I didn't want to see The Proposal. I even (briefly) considered featuring it as a FWLFS. From the moment I saw that first trailer, the whole thing just felt... icky. The premise--a put-upon gopher is forced to get engaged to his abusive female boss so that she can stay in the U.S.--is classic, egregious sexual harassment. Would we laugh, I opined, if the genders were reversed, and a lecherous male boss did the same to his female subordinate? Of course not. Because it's awful.

With my air of progressive hipster superiority fully satisfied, I happily shunned all opportunities (including a free preview) to see The Proposal. It was beneath me, don't you know.

But then some writers whom I actually respect (I'm looking at you, Jess!) had to go and say it wasn't that bad. So on my inaugural Wednesday night movie, I headed down to the Riverview and saw it for $3.

OK, seriously. The premise is awful. But looking past that for a second--can I just say how much I've missed Sandra Bullock? She hasn't been this yummy in a rom-com for at least nine years. And her chemistry with Ryan Reynolds was muy caliente.

So, really, this movie was saved for me by two things: first, the delicious cast (Mary Steenburgen! Betty White! Coach! Oscar from "The Office" doing a lap dance!); and, secondly, the hilarious script*. I have not laughed this much since Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

Yes, The Proposal was a run-of-the-mill romantic comedy, and yes, it followed a formula. You always knew what was going to happen next. But--it didn't suck. I was smiling as I walked out of the theater; and that, in itself, transcended my best expectations.

*"You know I can't swim!" "Hence, the boat." If you saw it, you know what I'm talking about. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

I've had quite the struggle lately between the movie-lover me and the relationship me. It's not that Mr. Nayana actively keeps me from going to the movies per se... it's just that it hasn't occurred to me to get my ass to the theater when I could just hang with my best bud at home. Does that make any sense?

Anyway, this whole "I never go to the movies anymore" thing came to a head this week. More on that tomorrow. But Mr. Nayana, in his infinite sweetness, saw that I was upset and promptly decided to take me on a date. We saw (500) Days of Summer, which I had been itching for since I first read about it months ago.

First of all, it's definitely not your standard romantic comedy (which, honestly, was a huge part of its appeal for me). Secondly, it stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel, both of whom I looooove.

The coolest thing about this movie is that it doesn't give us the normal crap we get about love from your standard commercial film:

Step 1. You meet someone of the opposite sex whom you immediately despise.
Step 2. Your quirky best friend helps you realize you actually are in love with aforementioned despised person.
Step 3. An unfortunate misunderstanding will drive the two of you apart.
Step 4. It all comes right in the end (thanks again to your quirky best friend).

This, as we should all know, is complete shit. And (500) Days of Summer--blessedly--doesn't do that. We are taken on a journey through a realistic relationship... the highs, the lows, the initial blush, the later disillusionment. And guess what? They don't like each other exactly the same amount! Sound familiar?

This movie was a beautiful, refreshing look at the real stuff we go through when we make the rash decision to allow another human being to become intimately close to us. It's not always pretty, but it's real life, not fantasy. And as for me, I'd much rather my film (or music, or art) reflect the life I actually lead.
...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

I know I've been complaining about my inability to get into the theaters lately, ad nauseum, but it really is my current greatest frustration. Seriously, I see a movie preview on TV and I almost cry. Well, the new guy in my life* must also be getting pretty sick of my whining, because he made sure we got to two** movies this weekend!

I've been waiting to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button for about a year. That's when Entertainment Weekly started talking it up, probably just because of the crazy-ass concept. (It also didn't hurt that it costars my favorite actress, the sublime Cate Blanchett.) For those of you who don't know, here's the film's premise: for no apparent reason, the title character is born as an old man, who then ages in reverse for the rest of his life. So he's wrinkly and feeble for a few decades; then he's Brad Pitt-a-licious for a little while; then, inevitably, he turns into a kid and dies.

So the concept is crazy. And, I admit, that's what sucked me in. But what kept me sitting in that seat was the amazing love story between Benjamin and Daisy (Blanchett). I generally have a HUGE problem with most movies' portrayal of love. A lot of films, especially mainstream ones, completely get it wrong. Movie love tends to be trite, unrealistic, and, frankly, insulting to my intelligence. Not Benjamin Button; this film gets it right. The love between Benjamin and Daisy is real: it's rarely glamorous, and it's certainly imperfect, but it's solid, sweet, simple, and enduring.

I have to take issue with some reviews that have knocked Benjamin Button for its format. The story is a flashback, à la Bridges of Madison County, in which a dying mother relates the romance to her incredulous daughter. To add a bit more drama, the mother and daughter are in a New Orleans hospital in 2005 as Hurricane Katrina comes ashore. To be honest, I can't really see anything wrong with that. The bulk of the story takes place (or has its roots) in New Orleans, and Katrina was arguably among the most profound events in that city's history (along with the Civil War, I guess). Actually, the Katrina situation reinforces one of the main themes of the movie: nothing lasts forever, no matter how much we might want it to. And if you know anything about Brad Pitt, the boy's been neck-deep in Katrina charities for years, even moving his whole huge-ass family to live down in New Orleans. So what's the problem? I don't get it.

I do really recommend this movie. It was lovely. And it had me in tears towards the end. I think that actually surprised Nuevo Man a bit, but seriously--he's going to have to get used to that.

*Pistola calls him Nuevo Man, and I think that's as good a handle as any, though it does make him sound a bit like an archaeological find. "Nuevo Man walked upright but had weird dorsal fins." Kidding. Haven't found any dorsal fins... yet.

**We also saw Doubt, which I will do my best to review sometime this week. Really, I will. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

This year, things are different. It may have something to do with my decision to drop my subscription to Entertainment Weekly.* It may also have to do with my recent negligence in following my favorite movie blogs. But I think the main reason I'm a bad, bad movie geek this year is that I've got two jobs, and a desire to crash and do nothing on my rare night off.

So last night I took a step in rectifying this sad state of affairs... I actually went to a movie in the theater.** I'd wanted to see Australia ever since I heard it was coming out, mostly because I adore director Baz Luhrmann and believe he can do no wrong.

I was not disappointed last night. I know it's gotten mixed reviews, but I have to believe they came from people who don't understand the genius that is my Baz.

If you're not familiar with Luhrmann's work, he's known for his Red Curtain Trilogy, which includes Strictly Ballroom, William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet, and Moulin Rouge! His movies tend to be visually stunning (and a bit head-spinning); they're unique for their over-the-top characters, intense cinematography, and wildly avant-garde style.

Interestingly, Australia had more in common with classic epic romances like Gone With the Wind and Titanic than with any of the Red Curtain films. There's still a bit of the trademark Baz Luhrmann stuff (those of us who love him most will recognize it), but this film is by far more mainstream. The setting is lush, wild 1930's Australia, and our story comes complete with a swashbuckling, mysterious hero and a refined-but-feisty heroine.

Truly, it's just fun to watch (how often does that happen at the movies anymore?), but what really knocked me on my booty was the ROMANCE. Oh, Lord, it was romantic. I'm actually feeling kind of swoony right now thinking about it. The kissing. And the Hugh Jackman. And the guy who can't declare his love at all till it may be much too late. (God knows I've got experience with that.) And the rescues. And more kissing. And more Hugh Jackman.

OK, yeah, I gotta go cool off.

*It was getting WAY too expensive. Why don't they offer renewal rates that are as low as the rates for new subscribers? No worries. My card's in the mail.
**This used to happen 2 or 3 times a week... but last night was my first time since W. In October. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

This is really weird.

I've loved this movie from the moment I first saw it. I've since seen it many times, bought the DVD, acquired the soundtrack, gone to see Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová in concert, and discussed them numerous times on this blog and others. So how is it that I haven't written a freaking review?

I think I've said this before: the movies that I love the most are the hardest for me to write about. It's true. It's perfectly simple to gush endlessly about them to those around me... but somehow that just doesn't translate to a blog post.

So here's the deal: Once is what all movies, in my oh-so-humble opinion, should aspire to be. It's a very simple story (we don't even ever learn the names of the main characters) with great music and real emotion. It was created for next to nothing in a couple of weeks with a couple of cameras and a couple of non-actors. So instead of commercial polish, we get substance. And instead of formulas, we get originality.

Once is almost a romance, but it's not really about that. It's really about the magic that happens when two compatible musicians sit down and create together. It's not something most people get to see every day, but I'm telling you: when the Guy and the Girl sit down and sing together for the first time, it's almost like there's a chemical reaction in the air. Now there's a special effect you can't create on a computer. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

Lately I've been whining to anyone who would listen that Hollywood seems to be incapable of portraying human relationships, specifically romantic relationships. I alluded to that a little bit on this blog last week.

But I'm good now. Late last Tuesday night, in a deserted parking lot, I lost myself in Before Sunrise. I had seen it ages ago when it was relatively new, but my reacquaintance with this masterpiece was long overdue.

If you're unfamiliar, Before Sunrise is an extremely unique movie: it follows two strangers (played by Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy) who meet on a train and impulsively decide to spend an evening together in Vienna. The whole movie is dialogue. Just talking. No chase scenes, no gratuitous sex, no washed-up comedians playing multiple obese characters. I know, it's revolutionary, right?

What Before Sunrise did so well for me was that it perfectly captured the dynamic of a brand-new relationship. You know, how it's all awkward when you know he's looking at you and you just can't meet his gaze or you'll turn tomato-red... or when you're not sure if it's ok to touch him... or that breathtaking moment when you know for sure he's about to kiss you. And at first you have this weird guardedness, but after a few hours you're suddenly telling him stuff you don't usually admit to family.


Another fantastic thing about this movie is that it was made in 1995... but it's not dated. It feels like it could be happening right now. Before Sunrise effectively ignores all the easy tricks that films use to convince us of their cleverness; it just portrays real humans, behaving in a realistic fashion, in a real city, in a situation that is absolutely believable. But for all this realism, the movie is still entirely magical.

Before Sunrise is one of those films that is entirely loved by those of us who love movies... and unappreciated by everyone else. It has a 100% Tomatometer rating... and it grossed only 5.5 million in the U.S. But this brings me to one of the things I love about independent filmmakers: they made the sequel, Before Sunset, anyway.

Granted, it did come nine years later, but it was so cool to see those two characters still alive and doing what they do. It did provide a bit of closure, although the ending of Sunset was nearly as maddening as the ending of the original movie...

But to find out what I mean by that, you've gotta watch 'em. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

I've had a growing impatience lately with movies that depict love unrealistically. Like, most of them.

You know what I'm talking about: the couple sees each other, has a few furtive conversations, and suddenly they're "in love" and are willing to move heaven and earth for each other. That is SO NOT how it works. In real life, love is immensely complicated, hard to come by, and requires effort, time, and sacrifice.

So why do I love City of Angels so much, given that it's the textbook example of this "instant love" phenomenon? Easy. I don't accept love as the turning point of the story.

If you don't know the movie, here's a big fat SPOILER ALERT... and now I'll fill you in. The premise of City of Angels is that an angel (Nicolas Cage) falls so deeply in love with a surgeon (Meg Ryan) that he chooses to forsake his immortal life and become a human, just so that he can be with her.

It's a sweet idea, if that was what really happened in the movie. Oh, they definitely feel lust for one another. Longing, too. But I think the real draw for our angel is not love, but life.

Let me explain. There's a lot of imagery in City of Angels of the simple, sensual pleasures of being human: the way a pear tastes; sunlight filtering through trees; the bracing ecstasy of a really hot shower. I get that stuff completely, because as anybody who knows me well can tell you, Nayana is all about the sensual pleasures*. I find it really easy to lose myself in things like dazzling sunsets, light reflecting on water, kickass thunderstorms, cherry cheesecake... So if I were in Seth the angel's position, would I give up immortality and the ability to sit on overhead freeway signs in order to experience all these things? Hells yeah.

I guess my point is that the real romance of this movie is not the Nic Cage/Meg Ryan slobberfest, but the romance between a human being and life itself. Get it?

*OK, perv, that's not what I mean. Sensual. We could talk about the other thing too, but that's not the topic of the day. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

I've known David Bishop for about a year and a half. He is officially one of my favorite "Internet people". He also, by virtue of his impeccable (read: similar to my) taste in movies, is one of the three or so people on the planet who can be called my Movie Muse. About 90% of his recommendations make it onto my Netflix queue.

It was at David's suggestion that I rented The Shop Around the Corner, a 1940 film starring Jimmy Stewart and Margaret Sullavan. I've been a fan of You've Got Mail since it first came out, and The Shop Around the Corner is the chief inspiration (along with AOL, I guess) for You've Got Mail.

Both films center around a man and woman who correspond with each other as mystery pen pals, and who coincidentally know (and hate) one another in real life. Of course, eventually the jig is up, they discover the identity of the other, and fall madly in love.

Yeah. This could never, ever happen. So why do I like the idea so much?

Aside from these basic plot points, the two movies really aren't that similar. Really, how could they be? One is set in a leather goods shop in 1940's Budapest while the other is set in New York City, half a decade later, with the disembodied voice of America Online ("You've got mail!") as the third lead character.


Let's start with The Shop Around the Corner. Like I said, I enjoy the basic premise, unrealistic as it may be. But somehow Stewart and Sullavan never muster enough chemistry to convince the viewer that they like each other after all. It just seems clunky, abrupt, and absolutely un-romantic. Even the subplot of an affair with the boss' wife comes off as superfluous and, frankly, boring.

In You've Got Mail, on the other hand, Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan knock it out of the park. Come on, we all knew they were fantastic every time they share screen space. I've loved them in everything they've done. (What's that? Even Joe vs. the Volcano, you ask? Especially Joe vs. the Volcano.) I think the plot could be crafted by Mary Higgins Clark, and these two would still sell it. I should point out, though that this script was very well crafted. The dialogue is superb (remember Tom Hanks' character relating every life problem to something from The Godfather?)--and in the subplot department: Meg Ryan's little shop being driven out of business by Tom Hanks' Barnes & Noble-esque leviathan was topical and touching.


All that having been said, it is a little distracting watching the workings of the Internet circa 1999, but that was inevitable given how heavily the film relied on a fleeting technological gimmick.

So this is why I let David influence me so much. The Shop Around the Corner was not nearly as entertaining as my pick, You've Got Mail, but I'm really glad I saw it. My appreciation of this fluffy little romantic comedy is greatly enhanced by having seen its predecessor.

Next up on the Netflix queue, at David's (and Nathaniel's) urging: Memento. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

This is a fantastic date movie. I saw it on a date with myself last night. That sounds pathetic, doesn't it? It really wasn't. I don't get nearly enough me-time anymore. I caught Vicky Cristina Barcelona, then headed to Panera for a turkey-artichoke panini, copious amounts of herbal tea, and free wi-fi. Couldn't have been a more perfect evening. Gotta do it more.

Do you like Woody Allen movies? I mean the really good, older ones? If you do, then you'll enjoy this movie. It's an exquisitely crafted story, full of dynamic characters (who make crazy-ass choices), stunning Barcelona cityscapes (I want to go! I so want to go), and yummy Spanish accents.


Vicky Cristina Barcelona's cast is a big part of what makes it so enjoyable. Javier Bardem is so natural in his native surroundings. He's very sensual, but his obvious comfort in that setting put me at ease, too. I reacted with a lot more "Rowwrrr" than "Run, he's got a weird air-gun thingie!!!" this time. Kind of refreshing. Penelope Cruz is also much easier to stomach when she's speaking Spanish. (Exhibit A: Volver. If you haven't seen it, do.) Scarlet Johansson was surprisingly non-annoying, and I have to say I love this new actress, Rebecca Hall. She reminded me of Anna Popplewell (Susan in the Narnia movies), but ten years older and sexualized.

What really works in this movie is the narration. It's the main vehicle for moving the plot along, it adds a great stylistic element, but my favorite thing is that it gives the viewer a feeling of reading the movie, like it's a novel.

If you like interesting, thought-provoking films, then I highly recommend this one. If, on the other hand, you prefer vanilla Lifetime Originals with no loose ends, see something else. Honestly, I wish I could go back in time and explain this to the group of cranky biddies sitting behind me last night. Just because it's not Danielle Steele doesn't make it a bad movie. Quite the contrary, actually. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

I've heard a few people wonder about the validity of nostalgia for the mid-1990s. It doesn't seem all that long ago. I was in high school. I'm not so much older than that now, am I? In reality, 1994 (when The Wackness takes place) was a full fourteen years ago. I've long since figured out that as I get older, time will pass at an increasingly freakish rate. Seriously. Think about this: September 11, 2001 was almost 7 years ago. There are tee-ball players and cookie-selling Girl Scouts (ok, Brownies) who weren't even around when the towers fell.

Right. Enough with the random rambling.

The Wackness is a passable movie with a few really sweet spots. When it wasn't busy relying on "remember when" moments (remember Forrest Gump? remember Giuliani? remember when we didn't all have cell phones?), it reminded me what it really felt like to be a teenager in (puppy) love for the first time. The film very effectively recalls the alternating feelings of head-spinning exhilaration, and terror of rejection.

I suppose it was more powerful for me, as I'm in a new relationship at the moment. Like the kids in the movie, I've got all these crazy feelings swirling around... crippling fear, blinding hope, constant curiosity, delightful discovery... you get the picture. And The Wackness does a great job of playing on those feelings, contrasting the dead marriage of Ben Kingsley and Famke Janssen with the heady infatuation of Josh Peck and Olivia Thirlby. I've been in both those situations, and I've experienced that whole range of feelings: depressing lows and dizzying highs. Frankly, thinking about it makes me want to take a nap.

Here's hoping I wake up somewhere in the middle. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

The Stone Angel opens tomorrow in six theaters around the country. So if you don't live within movie-watching distance of Edina, MN; Los Angeles, CA; Encino, CA; Pasadena, CA; New York, NY; or Bethesda, MD... I guess you're out of luck. No word yet on a wide release.

I do think it's one to keep your eye on, though... I'll lay down modest odds that we'll see an Oscar nod for Ellen Burstyn. More on that in a bit.

First, the movie. I was lucky enough to score an advance screening last night; in all honesty, I kept flashing back to Fried Green Tomatoes. The formula is familiar: Meet old person. Old person has dithering family. Old person has dismal living situation. Oh, but look at this flashback. Old person used to be young and feisty. Old person used to have lots of sex.

Overall, it was pretty depressing, and a bit predictable. I did enjoy Fried Green Tomatoes once upon a time; unfortunately, The Stone Angel substitutes empty sexuality for true warmth, and pithy wit in the place of genuine joy.

The one redeeming factor in this movie is Ellen Burstyn, the aforementioned old person. She gets all the great lines (some of them really are fantastic), and it's obviously intended as an Oscar vehicle for her. Nothing wrong with that. Her performance is impeccable, and I'd be surprised to see her snubbed.

It's just... I forget... entertainment is supposed to be entertaining, right? ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

I've wanted to write about Forgetting Sarah Marshall for quite some time.

I first saw it when it first came out, months ago. Then, a few Fridays back, I escaped from some tiresome company to see it again at the Riverview. Last night, I saw it for a third time.

I'm not sure why it was so hard for me to just sit down and blog about this movie. For one thing... I love it. Maybe I love it so much that I'm terrified I won't do it justice.

At the same time, it may be hard to tell you what's so great about this movie without revealing too many of its delightful little nuggets of realism, comedy, genuine heart, singing puppets, naked guys... you know.

This is what I can tell you. Forgetting Sarah Marshall holds up to repeat viewings. Every time I've seen it, there's more stuff that just makes me laugh out loud. The humor is a bit raunchy... most of it's sexually based... but to be honest, I'm good with that. (This is the girl that reviewed Kinky Kong, remember, people?) It's not for kids. There's plenty of nudity, of all kinds. The F-Bomb is dropped indiscriminately (you know... like in life).

But beyond the sex, the nudity, the cussing, at the heart of the movie... it's real. The characters feel like real people, the emotional ups and downs are real, the romance is real. To be honest, these are people I'd be friends with in real life, with the possible probable exception of the title character, Sarah Marshall. I'm sure it's no big spoiler to tell you she's pretty much a ho-bag.

And how could I forget... the casting of supporting roles is outstanding. This is true in most any Judd Apatow movie, but it's especially true in this case. Jack McBrayer is awkward and hilarious, Mila Kunis is lovely, Russell Brand steals the show. Paul Rudd is brilliant as always (he could easily play the pretty boy in every movie, but he eschews that in favor of interesting, unique characters. I respect him so much for that.) Oh yeah, and Jason Segel is officially now one of my favorite people in film.


Anyway... my worst fears have come true. I have come nowhere close to doing this fantastic movie justice. But let me just say... 5 stars out of 5. Absolutely fantastic. The best (in my opinion) of all Judd Apatow's movies. And... perhaps the most telling... I actually plan to buy this movie on DVD*.

Please see it.

*Not a common occurrence. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

The Princess Bride is one of the most beloved movies for those of us who were precious little girls (or boys too, I guess) in the 80's. One catch: because of my limited exposure to then-current movies as a kid, this particular film geek didn't see it till she was eighteen.

Still. Totally. Amazing.

The great thing about The Princess Bride is... oh, who am I kidding? There are so many great things about The Princess Bride. I spent some time working through this with my friend Virgin Mother, and this is what we came up with:

1. "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
   Somehow Mandy Patinkin (who is totally not Spanish) brought this Castilian character impeccably to life on the screen. There was so much potential for cheeseballishness* with Inigo; on the contrary, Patinkin treats him with reverence, heart, and wit. The result is that we actually care about the guy instead of just laughing at his antics.
   
   
2. The Fire Swamp.
   It's the reconciliation scene for Westley and Buttercup, but there's plenty of humor and action (as well as story exposition), so it's never in danger of sinking in its own sappiness.
   
   
3. Andre the Giant.
   He was so sweet. And so huge. And so funny ("Anybody want a peanut?") And so perfect for the part. Also, I was just old enough at the time of his death to realize how tragic it was. So watching The Princess Bride is, in part, like looking at pictures of an old, dear friend.
   
   
4. The score.
   If you've never noticed this, next time you see The Princess Bride, listen to the music during the sword fights. It's freaking awesome.
   
   
5. The Bishop at the wedding.
   Mawwwaige. This was our toast at my little sis' first wedding.
   
   
6. Billy Crystal as Miracle Max.
   Seriously, an MLT doesn't sound like a bad idea for lunch. I wonder if you can get one of those anywhere in Minneapolis?
   
   
7. The interplay between the Grandfather (Peter Falk) and the Grandson (Fred Savage).
   It gave the movie a little bit of boy-cred, especially when the kid would balk at the "kissing parts". Plus, Savage is 2 ½ years older than me... so watching this movie always reminds me of how young I used to be. Sure, I didn't see it until I was a young adult, but whenever it comes on I somehow get tossed back into my eight-year-old self. And how often do you get to be eight again?
   

OK, so what did I miss? This is my official comment call for your favorite Princess Bride moment.

Oh, and did I mention? The Princess Bride is #20 on the 2008 Nayana's Top 100.

* It's my blog. Cheeseballishness is absolutely a word in the Center Seat universe. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

"Is it funny? Good. It's good to hear that things are funny. I find them funny, but I never know if anyone else is going to find them funny. If nothing else, I'm making a movie that I'll enjoy."

That's Zach Braff, on the set of his feature writing/directing debut, Garden State. I love that quote because it captures exactly why I love indie movies.

Major studio movies are too often tailored to focus groups, market research, and the big guy in the suit's idea of art. I love the idea that we can each decide what is art, and what is funny, and what is moving... and individuality like that can show up in movies, even if they don't make a ton of money.


So, Garden State. Have you ever gotten together with a friend that you haven't seen in a while, and you just have the best time? And then you think to yourself, "This person is amazing. Why don't I spend every freaking weekend with this person? All my other friends are losers."

That is how I felt last night when I sat down and re-watched Garden State. I've seen it before, when it first came out... and I know I liked it... but I've never seen it again since then. And I have no idea why. The movie is fugging phenomenal. It's hysterically funny, but intelligent too. It effectively explores those in-between stages of life... and right now I can so relate.

Oh, yeah, and the Shins kick ass. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

I don't care what anyone says, Made of Honor is NOT just a reprise of My Best Friend's Wedding.


Actually, if you compare the two movies, Made loses every time. For one thing, My Best Friend's Wedding was far more original. It had the ending that you hated (at first), but grew on you when you realized it was more just, more intelligent, and allowed the characters to grow.

Made of Honor doesn't do that. It's a decent chick flick, enjoyable enough... but it's not any more than that. It's got its funny parts; it's got its romantic parts; it's not completely predictable. It does tend to blur with other rom-coms I've seen lately. And it's missing one fabulous ingredient from My Best Friend's Wedding which no movie shall ever have again:

Paul Giamatti before he was famous.

...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

***BIG FAT SPOILER ALERT***


I wish Helen Hunt the best. I really do. I've always loved her, first in "Mad About You", then especially in Twister and As Good As It Gets. She seems like a regular person; one that wouldn't be hard to approach, to have a chat with over brunch.

But I just couldn't enjoy her directorial debut, Then She Found Me. It was a big glob of gloom. Basically... she's getting old and having trouble conceiving. Then her husband leaves her. Then her mom dies. Then she finds a nice guy... but she cheats on him. Then she gets pregnant... but miscarries. Then she finds her birth mom... who turns out to be a pathological liar. The big happy ending is... a baby from China. Yeah, that's sweet, but it so did not make up for the previous two hours of big fat bummers.

It was well done and all, but I left the theater utterly dejected.

Why, Helen? I spent $8.75 and two hours on that! Come on, girl! ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

I think I'm getting old. Years ago, I'd have had no problem staying out past midnight and then showing up to work at 7:00 the next morning. Note to self: You're not 21 anymore, Nayana.

Oh my Lord, it was fun. There were eleven of us in the bar, then twelve of us in the theater, then four of us in the bar again. And as crazy as it sounds, because we're such movie buds, it was the first time I actually saw a movie with Pistola.



The movie was great, by the way. Fantastic. Amazing. Met all expectations.

The big draw of "Sex and the City" (the series) is, of course the sex. And the fashion, too. And the comedy, of course. But what really drives the show is the deep, real, emotional connections, especially those among the four women. And, to my delight, Sex and the City stayed true to that. Of course there was great sex, and great fashion, and some kick-ass laugh-out-loud moments, but the heart of the movie--the real memorable moments--came from the love those girls have for each other.


I can't think of one thing I disliked about the movie. And, in case you're curious, J. Hud knocked 'em dead.

See it. Please see it. I'll be there again this weekend. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

Despite the cruddy critical reception, I loved Coyote Ugly when it first came out. So I sat down yesterday to watch it again.... and couldn't believe my eyes. It was awful.

I think when I first saw this movie, back when it first came out, it was before I had decided to fully indulge in my cinematic obsession, throwing myself into all things film-related. So my "palate" wasn't fully developed, I guess. Seriously, I can't conjure any other explanation for the fact that, back in 2000, the Coyote Ugly script didn't make me spontaneously empty the contents of my stomach into the theater seat next to me.

It's smarmy. And cheesy. And exploitative. And completely improbable.

So then here's another question... why do I still, today, choke up at the sappy parts, and why do I smile and applaud unconsciously when Piper Perabo's character finally makes it? This crappy movie must have somehow seeped into my pores eight years ago, before I knew better. Now I have no control over my emotional reaction. I guess my heart and head are always going to have to disagree on Coyote Ugly.


P.S. The two bright spots were the performances of John Goodman and Maria Bello. In contrast to the rest of the cast, they were not completely cringe-inducing. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.

Hey y'all. My good friend Pistola Whipped has graciously offered her rebuttal to my review of Baby Mama. (She liked it; I didn't.) Enjoy!

So, this is my attempt at a movie review and like everything I do, it’s outdated, irrelevant and probably misinformed. However, after reading Nayana’s review of Baby Mama, I felt it my responsibility to the non-douchebag moviegoers of the blog-a-go-go to offer a different perspective on a movie Nayana panned. In fact, I think she may have liked the douchebag sitting next to her, or behind her better than she did Baby Mama.

Lemme say right now that I had no real strong desire to watch Baby Mama. Judging from the previews, I thought it would be another pre-fab SNL skit-to-big-screen attempt, rife with piss-poor jokes, obvious product placement and the dreaded Lorne Michael cameo. And in all honesty, it was those things, except I don’t know if Tina Fey and Amy Poehler ever specifically created a skit for SNL with the Baby Mama motif. It does seem that all the bouncing one-liners and sardonic grins off each other during the past few years of "Weekend Update" was enough energy to spark a light bulb in a GE head upstairs. And poof: those bitches got themselves a movie deal. And not only that, but they got to laugh, look good and hang out in their hometown of Philadelphia while fulfilling it.

I laughed aloud a lot at this movie. I thought it was clever, touching and funny. Tina Fey played her character with humility and practicality, which gave cinematic vets Steve Martin and Sigourney Weaver a chance to play totally offbeat, freaky characters. Greg Kinnear shone in his granola-y, anti-big business, pro-neighborhood role. I don’t know many big-budget, multi-millionaire actors who could pull off the irony of his part. And I’m no fan of Dax Shepherd, but I didn’t really have to be, since he played the a-hole in this movie, and he played it well. I was most surprised by how much I loved Amy Poehler. She was lovably neurotic, fiercely loyal, and even though she was deceitful and felonious, I still wanted her and Tina to be best friends!

So, if dumb, overplayed, stereotypical SNL movies don’t trip your trigger, then I’m not going to try and change your mind. And this movie won’t either. However, I don’t doubt for a second that Fey and Poehler, smarty-pants that they are, view Baby Mama as a way to bust into Hollywood/the men’s locker room so they can brand their comedy and make movies on their own terms. They have honed their trade, and if you can take out the airbrushed cheekbones, plays on stereotypes, and hole-filled plot, Baby Mama is like watching "Weekend Update" for an hour and a half, with some interesting people stopping by. ...Click here for the rest of this tasty post.