Author Archives: Jay

Ten Perfect Cinematic Moments

Fisti has put forth this brilliant challenge of telling what, for us, are our absolute favourite moments in film. Matt has already risen to the challenge and wrote beautifully and vividly about his own favourites, and if you’d like to read others’, then do check out the blogathon at A Fistful of Films. If you’re sticking around to read mine, please be warned that these inevitably include spoilers.

I wanted to pick that scene in Good Will Hunting where Matt Damon, having previously asked a dude if he liked apples, pounds on the window, presses the phone number against it, and asks “How do you like them apples?” because that’s a great scene. Great movie moment. But there’s another nugget in this movie that overshadows it, for me. It’s at the end, when Ben Affleck pulls up to Matt’s house, knocks on the door, and no one answers. We already know that Ben has always secretly hoped for this very thing: that one day his brilliant friend will disappear from his desultory life and chase the stars. So we know that Ben is happy, but we also know that he will inevitably also be sad, having just lost his best friend, and having no such escape route himself. It’s a very bittersweet moment where not a single word is spoken, but so much is said. All of this is communicated with just a slight grin, but the script and the director have set this moment up so perfectly that it plays on the audience’s emotions for all it’s worth. Love it.

As a little girl, I was fascinated by this movie I kept hearing about, E.T. I got the movie (VHS, baby!) one year for Christmas, probably a few years after its initial release, when it was age-appropriate. Almost the entire movie holds magic for me. This was the first movie that I remember wanting to watch and rewatch, and wanting to own so I could do just that. How do I pick just one moment? The Reese’s pieces, the glowing finger, “I’ll be right here”…and yet, for me, it was the moment Elliot’s bike first detaches from Earth. I can still almost feel the gulp in the pit of my stomach. One minute they’re riding along, just like I did around my own neighbourhood, both wheels kissing the ground, but then the next they’re gently pulling away, with wonder in their eyes, and in mine. That was the moment I realized that movies could tell stories. Made up, magical stories – that there was an infinite sea of possibility out there, not just in my own imagination, but in others’ as well (no, the alien hadn’t tipped me off, it was definitely the flying bikes).

There are a thousand movie lines that have become classic quotes and catch phrases, but I don’t think any have affected me quite as much as “Fasten your seat belts; it’s gonna be a bumpy night!” This is of course uttered by Queen Davis and it wouldn’t have spit forth from any one else’s lips nearly so well. Bette Davis’s Margo in All About Eve was probably her crowning role, one she was born to play. It was released in 1950 so I missed seeing it in theatres. That famous line was part of our cultural lexicon by the time I was born. There was a time when I hadn’t yet seen All About Eve, but there was never a moment in my lifetime when that line didn’t mean something. Though I’ve seen the movie several times by now, no viewing will ever compare to the first time I heard that line out of Bette’s lips. The timing is perfect, the delivery classic. It darn near knocked my socks off.

I’m not sure if there’s one moment in Up that I can point to, rather it’s a point in myself, that moment when I’m sobbing uncontrollably, reaching for my 3rd or 4th tissue, and we’re not even 5 minutes in. Very quickly into the film, there’s a fantastic montage that basically outlines a couple’s life together. Carl and Ellie meet as kids and have a life full of adventure, but also heartbreak. I love the scene of their wedding, where her side is cheering raucously, and his is sedate (remind you of anyone, Sean?). I love the painted hand prints on the mailbox. And I am totally in awe of what must be the first miscarriage hinted at in a Disney movie. It’s done with such tenderness and sensitivity that I always end up bawling. This montage is only a few minutes long but gives you such a sense of who they were (even though they’re fictional cartoons!) that you can’t help but be touched. This movie obviously found its way into my heart, and at a time when I found myself falling in love, so I guess it’s no surprise that there’s an adventure book in my own home, and a soda bottle cap pin on my lapel, and a drawing of little Carl and Ellie on our wall, and that same drawing tattooed on my back. No matter how many times I watch this movie, I am always bowled over by the sweetness that goes along with the hilarious saltiness. I just love knowing that this is possible, that you can tell a story so purely that makes so many feel all the feelings.

I’m starting to feel like there’s a certain theme to my favourites here. Christopher Guest is one of my favourite directors, I love everything he’s ever done and I’m angry at him for not doing more. I might not be able to pick a favourite among his movies, but I can talk about this one scene from A Mighty Wind. Catherine O’Hara and Eugene Levy, two Guest regulars, are playing a folk duo who had a relationship and a successful career but watched both implode. Many years later, there’s still a lot of pain there, but they agree to perform together at a special show as the guests of honour. During their greatest hit, once a testament to their love, they pause to give each other a kiss, just like old times. Again, I have to say that this moment works so well because the director has paid his dues. The whole movie points to this very moment. I hate movies that grab cheaply for tears and admire those that earn them. This moment is played quietly but the emotional payoff is epic.

Wes Anderson is another favourite director of mine. I get absolutely giddy when I watch his creations. My favourite, and I do have one – it’s that good – is The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. Its ending is maybe Anderson’s finest work- the scene when the whole damn cast is crammed into a tiny submarine, and they finally, finally find the elusive jaguar shark. It’s great, no STUPENDOUS, because 1. Bill Murray cries 2. for a movie called The Life Aquatic, this is pretty much the only aquatic life we see c) Sigur Rós’ song “Starálfur” plays, and its beauty and melancholy are just perfection 4. the shark is a metaphor, but for what? In the end, Steve doesn’t kill the shark, because it’s too beautiful, and also for lack of dynamite. It could be no other way, but only the mind of Wes Anderson would know this. Gets me every time.

I think a few of our fellow bloggers already have Inception on their lists, rightfully I think, for the hallway scene. It’s pretty crazy. But I’m thinking more of the last shot of the movie- the fucking top. Do you remember watching that on the big screen for the first time? How it spun and spun, but will it fall? We have already been told what it means: as long as it continues to spin, he is dreaming. If it eventually topples over, he’s awake. In that famous last scene, we hope he’s awake, and yet the stupid think won’t fall. It keeps going, but – oh, is it about to fall? No. But surely it must be close. Isn’t it faltering? Not quite. But it’s slowing down, right? It’s a simple top, but it manages to create a thick, greasy layer of tension is a theatre that’s already exhausted. And then, brilliantly, director Christopher Nolan cuts to black, so we are left to wonder, or perhaps to make our own judgement call, given the other facts of the movie. Is he or isn’t he? It was a perfect way to end the movie, and it was THE water-cooler topic for weeks. It made us question the nature of reality, and whether ‘reality’ was really the important thing anyway – maybe happiness and emotional connection are reality enough. Christ. I’m twitterpated all over again just writing about it!

The Broken Circle Breakdown is a film out of Belgium that shows the growth of a relationship between two bluegrass singers. The film goes back and forth, with sporadic scenes of courtship, love, marriage, babies, and breakdown. We know that their beloved daughter falls ill (cancer) and we know that the couple ends up in a very dark place, but glimpses of the kid are elusive. It feels like a real game of cat and mouse, trying to piece together what has happened to this family, but you’ve come to love them and you root for them like mad, so the scene where we finally know for sure that the kid is dead JUST FUCKING SLAYS ME.

Almost the whole of Big Fish could make this list, but I’m going to focus on the part where Billy Crudup is carrying his dying father in his arms down tho the water, and I’m going to try (and fail) to write this without tears. His whole life, his father has told him tall tales, which has bred distance and resentment between father and son. Only as his father lies dying does he come to understand that these stories are a legacy, a version of immortality, never so important as when death is knocking on one’s door. When father is incapacitated, son tells the final story: how he brings him down to the river to be bid adieu by all the fantastic characters that he’s known along the way, to finally pass into the arms of his beloved wife, and to finally become what he always was – a very big fish. I find it very moving and inspiring. Isn’t this what death should look like? Fuck heaven. Tim Burton knows how to do death right.

I read the book, pilfered from my grandfather’s collection, when I was far too young, but The Godfather is so goddamned good that it impressed me even then. The movies offer a whole plethora of perfect moments, but I’m taking mine from the second one, where Al Pacino delivers the kiss of death. As Michael leans in to kiss his brother Fredo’s cheek, he whispers “I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart. You broke my heart!” Fredo doesn’t die in that scene, but we all know he’s as good as – he’s marked. He’s always been the Corleone family’s weakest link, but now we know for sure that Michael is the strongest. There’s something a little Judas-y about being betrayed by a kiss, something halfway between forgiveness and vengeance that really paints Michael as a complex man and leader. This kiss gives me chills.

Watching Movies Like A Boss

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This weekend saw the grand opening of a new theatre in Ottawa: a VIP Cineplex at Lansdowne. As Matt reminded me, the city was pretty thirsty for a downtown movie theatre, two having closed pretty recently, and the only one remaining, the estimable Bytowne Cinema, is more art-house, prone to running foreign films, and while we absolutely love it (and are card-carrying members), it leaves you shit out of luck if you’re hoping to catch the new Will Ferrell comedy. 20150328_190537

This new theatre isn’t just any theatre. It’s a VIP theatre, which means for the privilege of double the price of admission, you can also buy beer for twice the normal price. Ostensibly we made our pilgrimage for the sake of reviewing the place but honestly, just between you and me, we were all pretty psyched about the alcohol option.

We reserved our seats the day before and had no problem doing so, even on a busy opening weekend. We wanted to exercise the menu option, and the website warned us that waiters only take orders until the previews start, so we weren’t sure how early to arrive. I also wasn’t sure how I would manage to eat food on a tray table smaller than those on an airplane, and in the dark, and while wearing a white blazer, but what the hell. Live it up!

So we went about an hour early to tour the new facilities. We parked in the underground parking, which can be validated by the theatre for up to 3 hours (it was $1.50 for an additional half hour) by the kid ripping tickets as you head in. The first floor has a frozen yogurt place that’s pretty impressive – serve yourself, with a huge buffet of topping options. There’s also a sizable arcade (that was reasonably busy) and a prize booth, and some single-stall washrooms that were still neat. One escalator ride up brings you to the “regular” theatres, where you can sit and watch a movie the way you always have, with a coke the size of your head, and an even bigger popcorn. Another elevator ride up, however, takes you to the luxurious second floor, where they have the VIP theatres (must be legal drinking age, 19+), as well as Ultra AVX theatres (immersive audio-visual experience with Dolby Atmos and massive screens) and D-Box theatres (seats that move and rumble with the sound and images of the movie – not recommended for the pregnant or elderly).

There’s a slick lounge on the second floor, with beers on tap, a wine list, and some decent cocktails. Matt recommends the rusty nail; I enjoyed the whiskey punch. There’s a pub-style menu as well, with selections including burgers, wraps, salads, and lots of finger foods. We tried a sampler platter – boneless wings, mac and cheese bites, deep-fried pickles, and tortilla chips. It wasn’t exactly generous for the $15 price tag, but all items were tasty, and I especially enjoyed the pickles.

Inside the theatre, an usher brings you to the seats you’ve reserved. Every seat is a comfortable recliner. Arm rests with movable tray tables divide you from strangers, but each couple of seats can be made more cozy by lifting up the arm rest between them. Menus are at every station, pretty much behind your head. They call the menus in here “specialty” which means not quite as many options as in the lounge, but yes, you can still order popcorn or candy in addition to the california burger that I enjoyed, and the jalapeno one that Sean gulped down (Matt found his shrimp cocktail to be good, but insubstantial). Shortly a waiter will be by to take your order, and will continue to circulate until the previews start to run (they ran them with the lights still up, so you can inspect your food upon arrival – I appreciated this). By the time the movie begins, you’re munching away, and I have to say, it wasn’t any noisier than any other theatre. The food is delivered in little cardboard baskets but the alcoholic beverages are in real glasses, garnished and everything! The waiters all have portable debit machines so you can pay in your seat (and tip – a new experience for theatre goers).

The rows are spaced quite generously apart, with oodles of leg room even for Sean, who is 6’6 and used to much more cramped quarters. The waiters slide easily down the aisles with food, but once the movie’s on, they retreat, which is good because you don’t want a lot of distraction, but bad because I could have used 2-3 more drinks. Lesson learned: order a couple up front, enough to last you the film. But do remember that bladders are quite vulnerable to beer!

The chairs are the comfiest you’ll find in a movie theatre, and you’ll want to play with the button while the light’s still on, because these chairs recline. In fact, if you sit in the first row, you have premium foot rests and you can go all the way back – a trade-off, I suppose, because sitting that close to the screen, you’d pretty much need to.

My one criticism was that for a truly VIP experience, I would have appreciated a coat rack of some sort. Don’t put saucy wings on your menu and expect that to go well (they do, I noticed, provide wet naps with every order). So Matt helpfully pointed out that in fact they’re missing TWO things: the coat rack, and a suggestion box.

All in all, we agreed that we’d had a great experience and that for us, it was worth the double ticket price. There was tonnes of staff around (keeping in mind it was opening weekend, so likely to be overstaffed). We didn’t wait long for anything, and Matt commented that he’d hardly been so satisfied with service. I liked having better options for snacking, and I’ve never been so comfortable. Sean loved the leg room. The personal space is also a bonus. We’d all willingly pay for it again, and agree that this will change the way we watch movies. But with the high ticket prices, it won’t be for everyone. And if you don’t have my back problems, you might not be as tempted by the recliners, and if you’re a traditional popcorn kind of guy, then the calamari may not appeal. And that’s okay, because you can still enjoy a movie at this theatre either way.

General Admission: $11.99

3D: $14.99

Ultra AVX 3D: $16.99

D-Box Ultra AVX 3D: $22.99

VIP (19+): $21.99

Have you had a VIP experience? Let us know if you think it’s worth the price!

Mother and Child

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Karen (Annette Bening) rehabs the elderly and infirm at work, and takes care of her failing mother at home. She’s angry, and bitter, and fails to connect with others.

Elizabeth (Naomi Watts) is a career-driven lawyer who prefers no-strings liaisons to real relationships and even her boss (Samuel L Jackson) know she’s no good for him but sleeps with her anyway.

Karen gave birth to Elizabeth when she was 14 and was forced by her mother into giving her up for adoption. They don’t know each other, but Karen has spent her life wondering where her daughter is, and Elizabeth has spent hers leaving people before they can leave her.

Add to the mix: Lucy (Kerry Washington), a young woman who wants badly to be a mother but can’t have children. She’d like to adopt, but the young pregnant woman considering her has an awful lot of hoops for her candidates to jump through. Is it worth it?

This movie makes you wonder about motherhood. What is natural? What bond exists? Writer and director Rodrigo Garcia does a pretty adept job at picking at the scabs and plumbing broken hearts, but he’s a little too determined with wrapping things up neatly, a little too generous with personal growth. Producer Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu has his finger prints all over the darn thing too – provocative, with an emotional breadth and the courage to ask uncomfortable questions. Unfortunately, this movie doesn’t have the answers, or not the kind of answers that all women will respond to. What it does have are some pretty stellar performances by the trio of leading ladies. I have never been less annoyed with Watts, or more annoyed with Bening. It was pretty great, but truth be told, I’d rather be watching Philomena.

Sherrybaby

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Say what you will about Maggie Gyllenhaal, she’s very comfortable showing her tits on camera. Even now that they’re low-hangers and she’s past the age where a bra is obligatory.

Sherry (Gyllenhaal) has just been released from prison and is struggling to reintegrate into society. She’s struggling in a half-way home, looking for work, and trying to rekindle a relationship with her very young daughter. Sherry is newly clean (thanks, prison!), emotionally stunted, and pretty raw. She’d be a wholly unlikeable character if not for the measured and sympathetic portrayal by Gyllenhaal, who tries inject Sherry with some dimension.

Meanwhile, the relationship between mother and daughter flounders. The little girl has been raised by her aunt and uncle, and her mother is a virtual stranger. Though the daughter is 5 or 6 at most, it’s a struggle to say which is the more mature. Sherry is needy and narcissistic and expects her daughter to respond to her cloying overtures every time she comes calling. Unfortunately, real life doesn’t seem to much up to what she’d been dreaming of in prison.

Writer and director Laurie Collyer doesn’t mince words. This is gritty, unpleasant stuff, and there are no easy answers to be gained here. There are two primary concerns for Sherry, and for those of us watching her: can she regain custody (and for us, perhaps, should she), and can she stay away from the drugs?

I was really riveted by Sherry’s regression. When her father shows up, the way she panders for his attention and affection is uncomfortable, and in direct competition with that of her daughter. It’s sad, and perhaps Collyer tries a little too hard to create a too-inconvenient checkered past to be responsible for her downward spiral. But there’s real pathos here. In fact, looking back, weighing all of Sherry’s pathologies, the dysfunctional and the desperation, I’m surprised that I didn’t come away feeling that this movie was depressing. Is there a secret vein of hope there? I’m not sure. And I’m not going to call this a great movie, but it strives to be realistic, and you have to admire it for its total abandonment of rose-coloured endings.

The DUFF

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Ladies and gentlemen, this is my official entry into grumpy old crony-dom. I watched a teen comedy and hated every moment of it.

I’m 26 in real life!

It hits every hallmark that a teen comedy should have: the neglectful parent, the social hierarchy, the cute boy next door, the mean girl, the dance. She even pretty-in-pinks her own homecoming dress for crying out loud (although substitute flannel for pink). But none of it works. None of it even comes close.

Mae Whitman, playing Bianca, the titular DUFF (designated ugly fat friend) is neither ugly nor fat. She’s actually eminently cute, and even the dowdification she undergoes in the film doesn’t make her unattractive (although those overalls have got to go). You may know her from Arrested Development or The Perks of Being a Wallflower, where she is all kinds of good and several varieties of charming. But in this movie she seems miscast. When Bianca goes through the obligatory musical montage of different outfits, it’s painful. It doesn’t just miss the mark, it misses the point. We don’t fall for it, or her, and neither could anyone else. It’s awkward and obnoxious. The ugly duckling is supposed to be turning into a swan but instead she’s turned into a goose that honks by itself over in the corner.

The film varies wildly from its source material. The book shares a title and some character names, but that’s about it. It’s a little racier and a lot less will-they-or-won’t-they. The movie took its chance to be edgier and more subversive than others in its genre and basically shat all over it. There’s nothing subversive about the happy ending depending on getting the guy.

Anyway, the concept of the DUFF is revolting. The DUFF is adopted by a circle of hot girls to try to make themselves look better by comparison. The DUFF is the approachable one, the one

A caption to prey upon every adolescent’s insecurities

guys can safely chat up to gain the respect of the hot friends, and also intel on them. The movie defines these parameters strictly but then defies them continually. Bianca’s friends never give her any indication that this is true of their friendship – in fact, their little trio seems quite solid until Bianca herself tears it apart. Would I like this movie any better if it was more accurately titled The Curmudgeonly Third Wheel in Unfortunate Outfits? No. First, that’s a horrible acronym, but more importantly, this movie treats the clichés of a teen comedy as something to be ticked off a list. This is no John Hughes send up, it’s just embarrassingly derivative. This movie has no soul. Let’s flush it and forget it.

Imitation of Life

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Two single mothers combine their households to help support each other through difficult times – one, an aspiring actress with a cute blonde daughter, the other a homeless black woman willing to work for her keep, and that of her-light-skinned daughter.

There are two important mother-daughter relationships at play here, but the way those relationships intersect is also pretty astonishing for a movie made in 1959. As Lana Turner as Lora Meredith begins her ascent to fame, Annie (Juanita Moore) becomes relegated to loyal employee. It’s obvious to all the two are friends, and that Miss Meredith depends fiercely on Annie, but this can never be a relationship between equals. The two little girls, raised under the same roof as playmates and friends, are on more even footing, but though young Sarah Jane can pass as white, she isn’t. Point blank. And in 1959, that’s quite an obstacle.

Annie is a maternal presence to both young girls, running the household and being available for physical affection whereas Miss Meredith is more keen on being the provider. She’s not exactly cold, but she is focused on her career and willing to send her daughter away to school for her own convenience. Together these two women manage to fill out each other’s strengths and weaknesses but there’s one sticking point that neither can hope to change. Sarah Jane prefers to deny her mother, her roots, and her own race. Since she can pass as white, she plans to, and does everything she can to reject her mother and keep her secret safe.

Meanwhile, the biggest problem that Lora and daughter Susie (Sandra Dee) eventually face is having fallen in love with the same man. It feels like director Douglas Sirk is actually daring to draw attention away from Lana Turner by giving more screen time, and juicier plot lines, to the film’s two black characters (Susan Kohner, as Sarah-Jane, is actually of Mexican-Jewish descent). The audience never experiences Sarah-Jane’s identity crisis from her own point of view but rather we’re forced to interpret it through a 1950s lens. We do feel it personally, though, through a mother’s heart ache. This earned both Moore and Kohner Academy Award nominations for best actress that year, though of course neither won.

This movie requires some analysis, and there’s a level of hypocrisy that must be navigated. Actually, I think Sirk was a bit of a cynic because there’s a hopelessness to this movie that really got to me. He presents us with racial tensions and materialistic values that both pale in comparison to the underlying vibe that families are being torn apart, their bonds degenerating even in the time it takes to make a film. Lana Turner’s real-life 14 year old daughter Cheryl had just fatally stabbed Turner’s boyfriend (she was let off, justifiable homicide they called it, since the boyfriend was beating her mom up at the time). Nevertheless, this caused a serious rift between mother and daughter, and threatened Turner’s career until Sirk convinced her to channel her pain into a movie about the struggle between mothers and daughters. And here we are.

Polytechnique

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I cringed my way through this movie – impossible not to if you know what’s coming, and what Canadian doesn’t?

This movie revisits one of the saddest days in our country’s recent history. On December 6, 1989, a man armed himself with a riffle and showed up to Ecole Polytechnique to hunt women – feminists, he called them. He shot 28 people and killed 14 women, targeting them specifically and even excusing the men from classrooms.

In order to preserve the dignity of the victims of this tragedy, director Denis Villeneuve makes them into fictitious composites, but their truths still ring out. They are students. Their only crime is pursuing education in a field (engineering, mostly) that their shooter deemed “for men.”

Villeneuve shoots his movie in black and white. I discussed this choice before: Villeneuve seemed to want to minimize the impact of the blood, allowing the audience to think about the killing spree in perhaps a slightly more transcendental way. The film rises above the tragedy and is quite cool in its presentation, some might even call it dispassionate.

But is it right to be dispassionate about so sore a subject? Rewatching it, I’m feeling the director’s passivity in the first half, the deaths seeming abstract as they happen off-screen. Later, a pile of bodies is shown out of focus Most of the horror is kept from us, the worst of it coming from the startle of gunfire as it rips through particularly quiet moments in the film. Perhaps we are meant to take it in without tears or judgement, and simply ruminate on what happened, and why. It certainly feels as though Villeneuve has gone to great lengths to give us plenty of room to do just that.

Home (2015)

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Oh is an alien (voiced by Jim Parsons) – they call themselves Boovs. Boovs are really, really good at running away, and their arch-nemesis the Gorg gives them good reason to practice this skill on a regular basis, evacuations led by their esteemed Captain Smeck (Steve Martin). This time, they’re fleeing to Earth, where they simply flip the switch on gravity and relocate all the humans. In the hubbub, a little girl named Tip (Rihanna) is separated from her mother (Jennifer Lopez) and she must reluctantly team up with the ever-unpopular Oh to find “my mom.”

This movie is cute if unoriginal – it reminded me of so many (better) animated films, but didn’t have a defining identity of its own. And I’m not sure if it took a while for the audience to warm up to it, or if the movie took a while to get going, but the laughs didn’t really start for a good 10-15 minutes, which actually felt a lot longer than it sounds. Once the laughs came, they continued. The movie casts a wide net – there’s something for cat lovers, pop culture dwellers, tweens, and younger kids. It’s easy enough to be entertained by this movie, but I doubt it’s going to grab audiences the way the minions did, or the three-eyed aliens from Toy Story.

There are plenty of fun moments: Tip’s house is booby-trapped so cleverly she makes Kevin McCallister (from Home Alone) look like a hack, and Oh learning how to car dance will have the kids waving their arms in the air like they just do not care. Actually, there are enough smart one-liners to earn a laugh from even the most cynical adult in the audience, but it doesn’t play to the adult viewer the way some Pixar movies have managed.

We saw the movie in 3D and wondered why. The movie doesn’t make much use of it, which is understandable since 3D kinda feels played out. Now it feels like a cash-grab, an excuse for the studios to charge twice the price for a ticket.

This movie is a stand-out in one big way though – not only is the protagonist female, not only is she black, she’s animated with realistic proportions. In the era of princesses, this means something. She’s smart and resourceful, and the movie doesn’t rely on stereotypes in her characterization. Her immigrant background is mentioned but not dwelled upon. It’s refreshing to see such a face on the big screen (she’s the first black lead character ever in 3D animation, and the second protagonist of colour for Dreamworks Animation, the first having been way back in 1998 when they did Prince of Egypt).

Bottom line: it’s an enjoyable film for kids, but the ground-breaking diversity doesn’t make it a classic. Diverting but not memorable.

Easy A

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This movie is smart and fun but the very first thing it asks of us as an audience – to believe that Emma Stone is a forgettable, undateable nonentity – is an outright lie. I’m sick and tired of movies asking us to ignore the very thing they’re relying on to sell us tickets: the smokin hotness of its star.

Why are we constantly asked to think of a gorgeous woman as an ugly duckling? How dumb does Hollywood think we are? That we somehow won’t see through the ponytail and glasses, or even some simple clumsiness, to see that it was FHM’s sexiest woman all along? A Hollywood script may occasionally call for plain jane, but no producer has ever hired one. Solution? Take a super model, put her hair in a bun, and dress her in paint-splattered overalls. Done.

Nonwallflower Emma Stone plays a virginal Olive, a high school student with an altruistic streak – to help certain male students out, she pretends to slut it up with them, dinging her own spotless reputation, in exchange for mere gift cards. For some reason, though she’s lovely and sassy and genuine, only the audience seems to know this. Even her best friend deserts her as here little scheme begins to snowball. Although modernly narrated in the form of a webcast, this movie constantly references great(er) teenage movies of the past. Though less angsty, there is a great debt to John Hughes here. And I don’t doubt that despite the high school setting, this movie in many ways is marketed towards the 30-somethings who will get those references. Olive, after all, wise beyond her years – precocious in every way but sexually.

Actually, the most interesting people in Olive’s world are the adults. On the rewatch, I’ve realized that my favourite bits of this movie are her parents, played by the absolutely brilliant Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson. It’s almost shocking, amid all the seediness, to see Olive have such happy, healthy parents who clearly cherish and adore her. Her family life looms large, a real tribute to Olive’s generational tendency to have parents who are also friends. Especially convincing is the mother-daughter relationship where Clarkson sparkles as the honest, post-hippie parent. Every moment they are on-screen is preposterous and tongue-in-cheekily indulgent. It’s easy to see where Olive gets her cleverness and self-assuredness. If all high schoolers were as grounded as Olive seems, movies like this wouldn’t have an audience to go see it.

Liebster Award

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Jay here, to accept an award and to thank the giver Mark for thinking of us for the Liebster Award – an award that seems to not be based on merit but I suspect is basically just a chain letter with the intention of highlighting and promoting other blogs, via a generous amount of linking back and forth. Not that that’s a bad thing – since we’re a relatively new blog that’s come across a great number of other great blogs recently, we’re all too happy to share the love.

Mark’s questions to me:

1. What’s the first thing you usually read each day? The news. First local, then national, then international. Unless I have a lazy morning, in which case I always bring a novel into the bath. Usually I leave the reading for at night, before bed. As an insomniac, that sometimes means I go through a book per night which means that I too am a vast consumer at the public library, just like Mark.

2. What’s your favorite food? Don’t know that I have one. My favourite thing about food is not the eating of but the making of – especially cooking big, impressive, multi-course meals for friends.

3. What’s your favorite beverage? In a very particular order: 1. water 2. Diet Pepsi 3. martinis

4. Where’s the best place you’ve ever lived? I suppose it’s right where I am now, but I am a firm believer that home is where the heart is.

5. Who’s your best friend, and why? Although I’m very close to all my fellow Assholes (and to a few select others of the non-ass variety), my best friend is my husband. We’re alike in a lot of important ways, and unlike in the even importanter ones.

6. Who’s your worst enemy, and why? I hope I don’t have any enemies. None on my side anyway. I learned a long time ago that hatred is a kind of poison. You don’t have to forgive, but letting go is a beautiful thing.

7. You have one day to do anything you’d like. It would be … Well, that depends. If this is my last day on Earth, then I just want to spend it in bed, with Sean, talking, and touching his skin with my skin. If we’re talking a random day with unlimited wishes and resources, then I’m choosing to take my friends and family on a Disney cruise – we proudly have 10 very young nieces and nephews, and I think that 24 hours is just about the very maximum that a sane adult can spend on a Disney cruise, which is basically just a Chuck-E-Cheese on water.

8. What’s your favorite movie? Oh my god. As if I have one! Here’s the thing about me. I have passion, too much passion. My top 5 always has at least 6. My top 10 would be endless. Pick just one? I don’t think so. I’d be interested to know if Matt, Luc, or Sean have a favourite movie.

9. What’s your favorite book? Same predicament. My heart belongs to many.

10. What’s your favorite subject to talk about at a party? Myself! I wrote that as a joke, but it might actually be the truth. Awkward!

11. What’s your favorite subject to walk away from at a party? I’m not afraid of subjects, only of the ignorant people who might broach them.

Random facts about myself:

1. I’ve been blogging for over a decade. You can check out my personal blog at Saint Vodka of the Martini. I don’t post there very often anymore but once upon a time I detailed my love and my life, all rather smugly (I was young, I’m embarrassed) and learned to eat crow when what I now generously refer to as my “first marriage” came crumbling down around me.

2. Blogging sure has changed since 2004. The Like button, for example, I hate. Back in the day, we used to leave comments. But now I see that blogging has been Facebookized, and not for the better.

3. I have a love-hate relationship with Facebook. I hate how seriously some people take it. I hate how others use it as a giant poster for all of the worst clichés and inspirational quotes in the world. I still use it for its potential – having moved around quite a bit, most of our friends and family are long-distance and there’s nothing that makes my day like seeing how my friend’s baby looks just a tiny bit different, or that my little sister’s toilet is on the fritz again. The big stuff I still like to know about or see in person, when I can, but the little every day stuff helps keep the homesickness at bay.

4. I’m totally guilty of clogging my own Facebook account with pictures of my dogs. I have a lot of dogs. 4 at last count. I’d probably have more, except for a city ordinance that says anything more than 4 needs to be classified as a farm.

5. The dogs are called Herbie, Gertie, Fudgie, and Bronx, and they should have their own blog. Their lives are far more interesting than mine.

6. Sean wasn’t a dog lover when I met him. He was the worst kind of person – a cat owner. Well, okay, not exactly a cat owner. But he grew up with cats. And rats. He was almost not worth loving at all, except he met Herbie (my only dog at the time, the little black and white angry-looking one in the red puffy vest) and decided immediately to convert.

7. Matt has declared 2015 “year of the dog.” Or maybe I did, come to think of it. But the point is for Matt to get a dog. Ours have always had a soft spot for him, and he’s in need of a furry companion, but Matt’s always been a bit of a foot-dragger, so if you have the chance, be sure to nag him a bit. Get a dog, Matt!

8. Luc has a Boxer named Eddy. Eddy is still technically a puppy but is already bigger than all four of my dogs and Matt’s hypothetical one combined, but if he comes for a doggy play date, he’s very intimidated by 6-pounder Fudgie (the squinty one in the cardigan in my arms).

9. Aside from dogs, the Assholes have bonded over plenty of other things, including but not limited to movies of course! We’ll be celebrating 7 years of assholery this summer, and over those 7 years together we’ve witnessed 2 births, 2 marriages, and 2 divorces – and ALL SIX of those things were very happy occasions indeed.

10. We also love to travel together – to Toronto and Montreal for concerts, to Lac Simon for camping, to Minden for weekend debauchery, to New York City to see some greats on stage, to Cuba for Luc & Mel’s wedding…I’ve probably left some out because my memory is bad, but I do know that we’re not done yet. We’ve got lots of adventure in us yet.

11. How many movies have we watched together? Fought over? Slept through (well, that’s just Luc)? I’m not sure. Hundreds, surely. And there are always plenty more of those too, so please, share with us. You don’t have to be an asshole, but we always like to hear from you.

Our nominations: I don’t really believe in any one blog being better than another, so instead I’m passing this along to our most frequent commenters – please don’t feel obligated. It’s all just in fun, so do let us know if you’d like to play along!

Sweet Archive

Film Munch

Ruth

I have only one question, for all of you: What is the most fun you’ve ever had in a movie theatre? What movie were you watching?