The geek at the next table

March 9, 2009 / / 5 comments

So I had lunch at Panera, and a guy at the next table is speaking in a deep, rolling Seth Rogen voice which is impossible to ignore, and I take a peek, and he looks a little like Rogen too. He’s replete with geek markers, from his grooming to his clothes to his mannerisms. And yes, I got all that from just a peek (plus verbal mannerisms). He appears to be in his early 30s, but I’m bad at that.

So it becomes clear very quickly that he’s talking about having seen Watchmen. And soon it also becomes clear that he doesn’t know the material. Hasn’t read the graphic novel. Is confused about the basic premise. And I’m thinking, what kind of geek are you? Not a comic book geek. Then he says he doesn’t know the name of the actor playing Rorschach. And I think, not a movie geek.

Then he starts talking about the trailer to the new Terminator movie, which he saw in Watchmen, and he’s got all kinds of details about that. So what is that? Highly specialized Terminator geek? Blow-things-up geek? I’m confused.

Geeks should know Watchmen. Just should.

Monday Movie Review: Hounddog

March 9, 2009 / / 6 comments

Hounddog (2007) 7/10
Lewellen (Dakota Fanning) is a poor southern girl in the 1950s, obsessed with Elvis. Her father (David Morse), whom she hates and adores, beats her. Her grandmother (Piper Laurie) preaches to her. The void in her might be filled by singing, or by her father’s new girlfriend (Robin Wright Penn), or not at all.

Moments, it seems, after filming wrapped on Hounddog, word got out that it featured a scene of Dakota Fanning (then 13) being raped. Mired in controversy, the film was unable to find distribution. I’m not sure what the availability is now. I saw it as part of an event at the family shelter where I volunteer.

You can definitely find fault with Hounddog. There are times that the filming is absolutely beautiful, and times when it’s so self-conscious you just want to roll your eyes. There’s a difference between being good with the camera, and showing me you’re good with the camera. Director Deborah Kampmeier doesn’t always know the difference. The plot relies heavily on a Magical Negro, some of the symbolism is as heavy-handed as the camera work, the resolution is painted as a happy ending but clearly isn’t, and I found a real confusion in the sense of place (like, where are they exactly? What state? And where is the concert venue at which Elvis sings, which is so important to the story?).

For all these flaws, Hounddog is a movie worth seeing. It has a clear story to tell, about coming of age, about snakes in the grass, about all the forces in the world lined up to prevent a pretty together girl from becoming a pretty together woman. A lot of the symbolism is effective and compelling, and there’s something effective about the sultry effect of a hot Southern summer; it’s atmospheric and hypnotic. The use of music is excellent; because Lewellen is connecting to herself through Elvis, that’s crucial, but the soundtrack stretches past the obvious.

David Morse always knocks my socks off, he is one of my favorite actors, and he doesn’t disappoint here. He begins as a quietly threatening force, and when an accident changes him, he is persuasive in that role as well. Dakota Fanning is a striking young actress; she has some of the natural power of Jodie Foster at that age. In fact, the whole cast is remarkable.

And what of the rape? There is nothing explicit shown; no underage nudity, although you may have otherwise, and no prurience. This story is Lewellen’s, and the experience is hers. It’s painful to watch, but it’s a pivotal crisis and the story can’t be told without it.

Dinners you only eat alone

March 5, 2009 / / 13 comments

The other night, I had for dinner:
Kale chips
Leeks
Chicken liver

It was so good. So good. But no one would eat this with me. Making crazyass meals like this is one of the real joys of living alone.

Kale chips I got from a commenter at Shapely Prose. Oh gods the goodness. My leeks I got more or less from Fanny Farmer, which is my favorite cookbook. Possibly my favorite book. The whole meal is a hearty iron & minerals extravaganza.

Kale chips
Kale, drizzled in olive oil
Spread on a cookie sheet, bake 20 minutes at 350 degrees.

That’s all there is to it as received, but I’ll add that the kale should be chopped into small, bite-sized pieces, and, rather than drizzle, I’d drizzle then toss. Otherwise, you get little pools of oil and little dry spots. A thorough tossing so there’s a very light even coating makes them perfect.

Sautéed leeks
2 leeks, cut into thick coins
1 large clove garlic, smashed
About 1/2 cup chicken broth

Sauté the garlic in olive oil for about 2 minutes, then add the leeks. Cook about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add chicken broth, cover, cook over medium flame about five minutes. Uncover and cook another five minutes.

So good!

Chicken liver
2 livers, washed and patted dry
Sauté until really really done.

Happiness!

I know, you hate liver. You probably hate kale. And you’re iffy about the whole leek thing. That’s the point. This is Deborah Eats Alone The Hell With You food. And it is such a delight to be able to indulge in it.

Heard on the BBC news

March 4, 2009 / / Comments Off on Heard on the BBC news

The Palestinians want Secretary of State Clinton “to pressurize the Israelis…to rebuilding the West Bank.”

Seriously? Not “pressure” to “rebuild”? Is there some form of Tourette’s that causes the forced injection of extra syllables?

Just wondering.

Elephants and Gorillas

March 4, 2009 / / 3 comments

The phrase “the elephant in the room” appears to have originated in the 1950s, and was popularized in addiction recovery literature. It’s the big, important thing that no one talks about. In recovery literature, that thing is alcoholism, and it’s often used to describe alcoholic family systems: There’s an elephant in the living room. We can talk about the odor, we can talk about the poo, we can talk about the broken furniture, and wonder aloud why all these things are happening, but we cannot talk about the elephant in the room. So: we can talk about Dad’s violence, his unemployment, his need to sleep in on Sunday mornings, but we cannot talk about the drinking.

There’s another phrase, “the 800 pound gorilla.” It has a completely different meaning and origin. It originates in a silly joke: Where does an 800 pound gorilla sit? Anywhere it wants to. The meaning is something so big and scary that you just have no choice but to give in to it. It’s a lot like “Let the Wookie win.”

But lately, I hear these two phrases conflated, and then you have “the 800 pound gorilla in the room.” There’s even a commercial about it now.

It’s driving me crazy.

Crazy.

There are two different phrases people. Two. Get it together!

That is all.

Tuesday Trivia: Round Robin Actors

March 3, 2009 / / 96 comments

Today it’ll be a round robin, and it’s guess the actor.

I’ll start.

A historical bandit. A professional reader. A mentor to a younger spy.

Monday Movie Review: Once Upon a Time in Mexico

March 2, 2009 / / One comment

Once Upon a Time in Mexico (2003) 6/10
Former hitman El Mariachi (Antonio Banderas) accepts a job offer from deranged CIA agent Sands (Johnny Depp) because the target is the man who killed his wife (Salma Hayek). Directed by Robert Rodriguez.

I don’t usually watch cooking shows, but there was this one time I was watching Emeril, and he took out the pork he’d been cooking, and I was all “mmmm,” and then he spooned the vegetable dish that he’d prepared on top of the pork and I thought “Oh wow!” and then he dished the sauce that he’d made on top of the pork and vegetables, and I thought YUM!” and then he took the lovely raw sliced somethingorother he’d made and piled it on top and I thought “ehhhh” and then he spooned ANOTHER sauce on top of THAT and I thought “Yuck.”

This is exactly like watching Once Upon a Time in Mexico.

The movie is a sequel to Desperado which, in turn, followed El Mariachi (which I didn’t see, but I’m told Desperado is more a remake than a sequel). Desperado is a rather elegant affair, simplistic in the beauty of its sex, violence, and cartoonish hyper-reality. It is there to be beautiful and vulgar and bold, and it strips away any unnecessary elements (like, say, dialogue) to achieve that end. There are some oddball characters weaved in (Cheech Marin, Steve Buscemi, Quentin Tarantino), but their participation is limited. This is a movie about El Mariachi, his guns, his lover, and his guitar. Period.

Whereas Once Upon a Time in Mexico is about the kitchen sink. There’s El Mariachi and his quest for revenge, and there are guns, and there’s even a guitar. There’s also a one-eyed bartender (Marin), a deranged CIA agent, an evil drug-runner (Willem Dafoe), an expatriate American with a little dog (Mickey Rourke), a gung-ho border patrol agent (Eva Mendes), a plot to assassinate the president of Mexico, another plot to assassinate the assassin, at least 3 different revenge plots, a depressed former FBI agent, and an alcoholic hitman.

I’m tired just typing it all.

What happens is that all the fun gets swallowed up by a movie that can’t decide which fun to have. Like standing in the middle of an amusement park spinning around from all the choices, but never getting on any of the rides. Ten minutes here and ten minutes there are sections of a great movie that didn’t get made. It’s sloppy work.

You can’t fault any of the actors, each of whom is given a chance to do a little bit (or a lot) of bravura performance. You can see why they wanted to. It looks like it was a lot of fun for them. And it’s probably the kind of movie that’s a lot of fun to find while channel-surfing. It’s made for skimming. But to actually sit through it, intentionally watching it from beginning to end, is not, in the end, any fun.

Movie review will be late

March 2, 2009 / / Comments Off on Movie review will be late

I need to link it up, and all of a sudden, IMDb is behind a firewall. Heavens!

How technology improves

February 26, 2009 / / 4 comments

When I was a little kid, you used to have to wait for your TV to warm up, because that big ol’ tube didn’t just turn on all at once.

Then technology improved and you could just turn on the TV.

Then technology improved again and now I have a DVR. And have to wait for my hard drive to warm up.

Hothouse Flowers

February 25, 2009 / / 6 comments

So I’ve got this new acupuncturist I’m seeing, which I’ll tell you more about later. But she’s a total healthfood nut. I must! eat only whole grains. I must! give up coffee. I must! change my lifestyle, eat a good breakfast, not eat after six p.m., increase my carbs in relation to my other foods, eat only organic, drink more water, transform myself into her except GOD I HOPE much cuter.

And she said to me something that I’ve heard from many healthfood nuts in the past. She said, because I should be eating only organic foods, I should be eating at home. “When I go out to eat,” she said, “I get sick.”

Excuse me? You get sick when you get out. I don’t. This is evidence that you’re healthier than me?

This hypervigilant organic-only diet turns you into a hothouse flower, delicate to a fault to any exposure to the outside world. Me? I’m a dandelion. I thrive anywhere and everywhere. Which is better? I dunno, but I sure like being able to leave the hothouse.

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