Two video posts in a row maaay seem a little lazy and lame but it’s so worth it because we all must go see this movie together (I’m talking to you, 300-odd regular readers) and smile the whole time and eat Red Vines and fall deeply, deeply in love with a — wait for it — BEARDED John Krasinski:
Now, our love for John Krasinski has been pretty well documented on this blog, here and here and here and here. But I’ve yet to see Johnny K branch out and do a movie that I actually wanted see. I’m always afraid they’ll be bad and ruin my perfect love for him. (No John, seriously, are you listening? I’m tall too. Pretty witty. Did I mention I think we’re soulmates?) This movie, however, actually looks good. A little indie, a little funny, a little tugging-at-the-heart-strings; it’s a holy trinity of movie goodness. Plus, the movie was directed by Sam Mendes, husband of SWTCTW girl crush Kate Winslet AND SWTCTW’s very own Kathleen looks eerily like Maya Rudolph. So there’s that.
FYI, the song in the preview is Alexi Murdoch’s “All My Days.”
Thanks to sometime guest blogger Madeline for the tip!
So the roommate and I are having a lounge day of healing the ankle for real and watching as many chick flicks as we can stomach. We both agreed that Nights in Rodanthe is perhaps one of the worst films ever made (you’re saying…well, what were we expecting? It was a Nicholas Sparks novel. And we say, um, touche?) but JESUS I could watch Love Actually a hundred times over and never get sick of it. Each time, I sob with joy at the end. If you don’t agree with me, I say you don’t have a soul. I will argue with you about this. I mean, look at Karl (aka Rodrigo Santoro):
If nothing else, you should love Love Actually for Karl.
And wise observation of the day, courtesy of the roomie: Every Nicholas Sparks movie can end with a person walking on the beach wearing a cable-knit sweater.
Did they seriously make “Where the Wild Things Are” into a movie? (Let me answer my own question: yes, they did.) Are you okay with this?! (I’m clearly struggling with it.) What are your thoughts? It seems kind of dark and twisty…
As you’ve no doubt heard, Natasha Richardson — famous to lame children of the ’90s like me for her role in the Lindsay Lohan remake of The Parent Trap — died yesterday. I’m not sure why this is affecting me so much, but I am deeply sad about this. I originally heard that she was in serious condition, and then I freaked out yesterday afternoon when I read that she was brain dead, and then I almost cried on the bus when I got a News Alert that she had died.
The papers say that she died in a skiing accident, which makes me imagine her recklessly flying through trees or skiing out-of-bounds on some intense moguls. But what really happened is so much sadder. According to the NYT:
Ms. Richardson, who was not wearing a helmet, had fallen during a beginner’s skiing lesson, a resort spokeswoman, Lyne Lortie, said Tuesday. “It was a normal fall; she didn’t hit anyone or anything,” Ms. Lortie said. “She didn’t show any signs of injury. She was talking and she seemed all right.”
Can you imagine? She was taking a beginner’s ski lesson, and she was okay at first. Stuff like that kills me.
I think I’m sad about this for two major reasons. First of all, she seems like good people. She came from a long line of famous theater folk (even I’ve heard of the Redgraves) and was really well-respected in the theater community. And she’s married to Liam Neeson, who also seems like good people. They were so freaking cute:
I keep imaging the funeral scene from Love Actually, where Neeson’s character gives a eulogy that makes me sob every time and then sends his wife off, at her request, “through the immortal genius of the Bay City Rollers.” It’s life imitating art in the worst way.
The second reason this upsets me so much is that it disrupts the notion that freak accidents don’t happen people you know. When Heath Ledger died, it scared me because he was basically the first celebrity of my generation to die of a drug overdose. When our family friend’s infant child dies of SIDS, it showed me that these things are real. I of course didn’t actually know Natasha Richardson (or Heath Ledger), but somehow their deaths hit close to home.
Anyway. I’m very sad, and my thoughts and prayers go out to Natasha’s family.
I’ll take Seth Rogen anyday. (Especially now that he’s super duper foxy svelte for his role as the Green Hornet and my inexplicable attraction to him pre-toned up is now somewhat justified.) RAWR.
I haven’t posted in a few years, but tonight was a night of film for me, and I have some things to say:
1. Everyone — and I mean everyone — should find a way to see Mario’s Story. It is one of the most amazing documentaries I have ever seen, and Mario Rocha is indescribably inspiring. I had the great fortune of meeting him tonight and hearing him speak, and I have rarely been so impressed or touched by an individual’s story. Lest you think you’ve had it rough, think of Mario. Here’s the trailer for the documentary:
2. Kate Winslet and Sean Penn…both of you are FUCKING AMAZING.
3. I have been sobbing since around the time that Heath Ledger’s family accepted his award. That was like an hour ago. I think I believe in hormones now.
4. The children of Slumdog could win Oscars for sheer adorableness. New category, Academy?
On this fine Sunday, I had the pleasure of seeing one Kathleen Shea Blogger. In fact, it was the first time we’ve been together since we began this here blog. We had brunch with our friends, chatted, had a naked pillow fight, etc. We also went to see The Reader with our friend Norah.
The Reader is the third movie I’ve seen in the past few weeks that I wasn’t originally intending to see. I saw Slumdog Millionaire because I missed FourChristmases, Seven Pounds because The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was sold out, and now The Reader because Milk was sold out. Someone’s really screwing with my movie schedule, but luckily I’ve loved each of these three movies.
I had some vague ideas of what The Reader was about, and I’d heard that it got good reviews. I’m no film buff, but I quite liked it, and I thought Kate Winslet, Ralph Fiennes, and newcomer David Kross were all phenomenal. It’s a twisted, sad movie, but I thought it was original and thought-provoking.
The questions of justice that the film brings up were most interesting for me. Modern law requires an assignment of guilt or innocence with no real middle ground, and this movie illustrates just how complex and contrived that requirement can be. My inability to come to terms with the whole black-and-white aspect of law is part of the reason I decided not to go to law school. I’m bad at making decisions to begin with, and even if assigned a side, I think I’d struggle to be 100% on that side. (There are exceptions, of course, and I’m oversimplifying our legal system, but you get what I mean. I hope.)
On a lighter, creepier note, I finally understood exactly what my cougar friend means when she looks at a younger guy and says she wants to give him a bath. Not that I don’t still find that statement totally creepy (you heard me, Cougar Friend), but I got a little embarrassed when I formed a huge crush on David Kross, the young Michael in this movie, and then discovered that he is only 18. Here’s the only picture I found of him where he looked as if he’d hit puberty (he’s on the left, clearly):
Yeah he still looks young. I feel dirty. But whatever, suburban moms totally have crushes on the Jonas brothers, right?
And let’s just pause and remember how fabulous Kate Winslet is, even when she’s just hanging around with her kid:
I’ve had a few strangers tell me I look like Kate Winslet, and I every time I see a picture of her or watch one of her movies I try and I try to force myself to see the likeness, and I simply don’t see it. The face is a stretch, and our bodies…well, let’s just say I don’t see it.
Yes, it is Christmas eve and I am blogging. What of it? But I have to share this with the world. In case you didn’t know, the best movie EVER is on the teevee for a solid 24 hours straight. Twenty-four hours of “A Christmas Story”? YES PUHLEASE! I’ll watch it inbetween meals. So turn on TBS. This movie makes me laugh so hard I cry. The scene with the leg lamp? PRICELESS!
Fa ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra!
Also, in case you wanted to keep tabs on the big guy in red, the North American Aerospace Defense Command, or NORAD, has a Santa tracker going. As of right now, he’s in between the South Pole and South America. He best be getting to the US of A tonight! Specifically, my house.
Last night I met up with my friends for drinks and a movie. We were planning to see Four Christmases because, you know, it IS Christmastime. But we got to the theater later than we wanted to and decided to just see the movie that was starting soonest, Slumdog Millionaire. I had only vaguely heard of it, but all of the theater employees were all, “Um, it’s amazing.” And um, it WAS amazing. Here’s a trailer:
Sacre Bleu! Conde Nast employees (those that are left, anyway) are squirming with the too-delicious-to-be-true/reduced fat rumor that Vogue dictator-in-chief editor Anna Wintour is soon to be replaced by her french counterpart Carine Roitfeld. Vite! Somebody get Anne Hathaway to run across Paris in four-inch heels, storm into Anna Wintour’s suite, and remove all of the freesia from the flower arrangements!
Wintour’s contract is soon to expire, shortly after celebrating her 20th anniversary last Spring, and the rumor-mill has her out of a job as early as January 1st. Gawker has more of the juicy details here. Whatever happens, a major change on Vogue’s masthead would turn the fashion world and magazine publishing world upside down. Although considering the publishing industry has already been tied by its ankles to the top of the Conde Nast building, a shake-up of this proportion could flip everything back to where its supposed to be (and then the hiring freeze will be over and I can have a job!).
six words to change the world. 