Archive for the ‘Movies’ Category

Convalescence Media

Tuesday, September 19th, 2017

I’ve just been through a bit of not-terribly-major surgery, and recovery, after I got through the initial stuff, has been a pleasure. (What is better than a two-week stretch of bed rest? Absolutely nothing.) Here’s what I’ve liked most of the books I’ve read and films I’ve watched:

1) Off Course, by Michelle Huneven. A sharply observed, gorgeously written story of a twenty-eight-year-old woman who gets sidetracked by an obsessive relationship with a married man. What I love about it, in addition to sparkly quality of the sentence-level writing, is the incrementality of the emotional observation, the way we’re taken through every vicissitude of the relationship as the course keeps turning. It makes perfect psychological sense, all of it, and yet I never knew what would happen next. Highly recommended. I wish there were more books in the world like this one.

2) Carol. I think it’s easy to find Todd Haynes’ movies oversaturated, not merely with color but with feeling (they’re melodramas, yo), and there were moments in which I thought a tighter cut would have helped. But his films are also tone poems, mood pieces that you’re supposed to sink into, and this one is as beautifully crafted as they come. Cate Blanchett is insanely taut and wirey and vaguely predatory (though . . . arguable, given her cirucmstances) and wrecked. Loving her isn’t quite possible, but feeling for her, whoo-boy.

3) Afternoon Delight. I remember seeing the preview for this movie and thinking that the premise was too weak and too unreal to withstand any kind of plausible narrative. Then I found out (only recently) that it’s a Jill Soloway movie, so I queued it up. And I liked it! Humane, ecumenical, fair to all of its characters and points of view. It’s uncomfortable to watch (i.e., not the comedy it was marketed to be), and/but it pays off satisfyingly. I even believed in it, ultimately, which came as a surprise. And now . . . only a few more days until Season 4 of Transparent.

Some Good Stuff in a Terrible Time

Monday, August 14th, 2017

This is a wonderful movie. The more Kumail Nanjiani in my life (and, I hope, in yours) the better.

This is a beautiful book. Sometimes I have the sense that Alexie is a stuntman first and a writer second (though this quietly arresting story is 100% stunt-free), and for me, the jury was out for the first 25% or so of his new memoir. But the book won me over and then bowled me over. His voice is so singular, and his willingness to open his wounds is astonishing. Plus, You Don’t Have To is a primer on the power of repetition. Alexie uses it to harrowing effect.

This is a thing you can do, at least theoretically (calendar is currently booked up), that would make your life better.

This is a series of incredibly smart, compassionate videos about how to connect with other humans.

This, this, and this are good places to donate money.

This is a website dedicated to wonder.

This is a place to see something new.

The Gifts of Art: May Edition

Tuesday, May 23rd, 2017

Of all the things I’ve been reading, listening to, and watching, here’s what moved me the most in the past month:

The Awkward Thoughts of W. Kamau Bell: Is there anyone more charming than W. Kamau Bell? Reading this book feels like sitting down with somebody who is not only smart and hilarious and feeling but kind and forgiving and connected*. I’d listen to what he has to say on any topic at all. Fortunately, there are many ways to do that, including multiple podcasts and one-offs and interviews. For what it’s worth, though, this book is my favorite iteration of Bell yet. It feels so eminently him.

*There’s an asterisk here, because Bell has said on more than one occasion (and he says in the book) that his amicability is in some ways an appeasement/apology for the fact that he’s a tall black guy. He’s trying to connect across race lines, and he’s excellent at that, and/but there’s a calculation in it that’s a response to racism, and that makes me wonder which parts of him we’re missing out on. I am in no way blaming him for using a tool that’s working. I’m sad for him and pissed at the world that he has to.

Manchester By the SeaEver since You Can Count on Me, which remains one of my favorite movies of all time, I’ve been in the tank for Kenneth Lonergan. I’d have been first in line to see Manchester in the theaters if it hadn’t been two hours long (back pain); I’ve been waiting for a streaming option, and it’s here; John and I watched as soon as we could. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow. The layering on of the backstory is masterful. The emotional build is earned and real. The payoffs are quiet and delicate and spot-on. It’s all exactly as you would want it to be without having been able to imagine it until you’re seeing it. It was, in short, the best movie I’ve seen in an age—and contrary to what people said about its capacious sadness, I felt uplifted by it. It is undeniably sad, but it’s sad in a way that breaks you open, if you let it. And that, as we know, is when the light streams in.

Master of None, Season 2I know, I know, everybody loves it, but THAT IS BECAUSE IT IS BEAUTIFUL. In particular, the episodes “New York: I Love You” and “Thanksgiving” are ebullient and loving portraits of regular people of color having regular life experiences, with an undercurrent of compassion and Ansarian joy in the world. In fact, the whole season is infused with Ansari’s joy and wonder at living, from his adorable celebratory chants with Arnold (“Eating in Italy is my favorite thing!”) to the gorgeous wide shots of Italian and American exteriors (and interiors: heads up, Brooklyn Museum!), to the deliciously lugubrious music, to his pleasure at simple memes (“Allora”). And while some people seem disappointed or frustrated with the love story, I think Ansari, Yang, and team actually do a remarkable job at portraying a very specific and understandable and relatable kind of excruciation. I wish that the love interest hadn’t been yet another white woman (the season is otherwise solid at presenting women of color in romantic roles), but they were in Italy, so there is some justification for it.

I Am Not Your Negro: From end to end, this film is a scorching fire of righteousness, and it’s smarter and more beautiful and more gutting and decimating and enraging than anything I can possibly say about it, except just go see it and feel it and take it in. And then, perhaps, do some kind of thing that will inch us forward in some kind of way, especially in this era of rekindled white supremacy. They’re shouting things they used to whisper, and we need to step up and SURJ.

Kumbaya Felt Services #6

Wednesday, March 22nd, 2017

Bluey and Orangina name their favorite animals, go on a hunt for a pen, and discuss the meaning of an impressive word.

Kumbaya Felt Services #5

Wednesday, March 22nd, 2017

Bluey and Orangina attempt to figure out where they are, and why.

Kumbaya Felt Services #4

Saturday, February 11th, 2017

In which Bluey and Orangina discuss travel, such as it is (and isn’t) in their lives.

Kumbaya Felt Services #3

Saturday, February 11th, 2017

In which Bluey and Orangina discuss Orangina’s proclivity for jumping up and down.

Kumbaya Felt Services: #2

Monday, January 30th, 2017

Here’s the second. In this one, Bluey and Orangina discuss their favorite colors, the array of orangeness, and where warmth comes from. Then they sing Kumbaya.

We need to work on enunciation and volume, I know. We’ll do so in later installments. For now, just let it wash over you in calming joy.

Kumbaya Felt Services: Video #1

Monday, January 30th, 2017

This is one of the ways I intend to get through the foreseeable future:

Herein, Bluey and Orangina discuss what it’s like to live on a bed and smell food cooking in the other room. Then they sing Kumbaya.

It helped me to make it. I hope it helps you to watch it.

November Two-Fer

Friday, November 25th, 2016

Two Highly Recommendeds in one post:

1) Moonlight. It’s just as gorgeous (and as gutting) as reported. The direction is so taut, the acting so contained (it’s almost all in the faces), the mood so encompassing . . . and the end, my friends, the end. I still feel wrecked by the end. What a perfect last moment, capping a perfectly composed film. Cue sobbing.

2) The Wangs versus the World, by Jade Chang. A funny, compassionate, intelligent, and sneakily ambitious debut novel about a once-wealthy Chinese-American family that has gone bankrupt. It’s a warm, companionable book—the kind you don’t want to step away from—but it doesn’t shy away from showing you things you didn’t know.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody. I hope it was a good one.