How long would you wait for love? Or something …

Rating: R

Genre: Drama/Romance

Gist: It takes but one glance, and Fermina (Gina Bernard Forbes) captures the heart of young Florentino (Unax Ugalde) forever. He pledges his undying love and fidelity, even while they are torn apart. And while life goes on Fermina, Florentino (Javier Bardem) remains tortured by what he cannot have. Other women become his solace. He notes each one (well over 600) in a little black notebook, awaiting the day Fermina’s husband (Benjamin Bratt) dies. And no, I did not make this up.

My take: Years ago, my mom heard an old holy roller preaching on the evil of television. He was getting all riled up – flailed arms, spit, the works – when he said, “And you men – all you do is sit in front of the boob!” Of course, given the topic of his sermon he meant to include tube at the end of that sentence. But he didn’t. He just carried on with hell fire and brimstone, much to the amusement of the younger generations. So what does that have to do with this review, you ask? Well, let me tell you. If you watch this movie, you very literally will be sitting in front of the boob – several of them actually. Long-skinny ones, plump-round ones, real ones, fakes ones, young ones, old ones – this movie is basically boobs run amuck. Years from now, I fear that is all I will remember of the movie – already it’s getting hazy.

I rented the movie because I’m a hopeless romantic - the thought of waiting for the one you love seemed precious. Yeah, well, not so much. The scenery (Columbia) was beautiful. There were a few classic lines. And as always, Hector Elizondo was great. His character, Don Leo, made me laugh. And that’s probably the only reason I continued watching the movie. At least that’s the story I’m sticking with …

Other than that, little of the movie keeps with the beauty of the location. From the onset Florentino seems more like a stalker than a true love. Fermina seems afraid a good deal of the time. Granted, as the movie progresses you come to realize it’s probably more fear for him (because of her father) than of him. But it’s never clear. The movie is long and disjointed in parts. Not to mention, the fact that Florentino has sex with HUNDREDS of other women to help ease his pain does nothing to illicit my sympathy. Call me crazy. Furthermore, the aging process for the characters is not-so-very lifelike. Some of the makeup actually looks it. And Fermina and Florentino appear older near the middle, than the end. I have heard that the book relies heavily upon symbolism. Perhaps that’s what the movie is trying to portray – love makes one younger.  But in the movie, it simply comes off as a mistake. 

In a nutshell, I would not recommend this movie. Not even to see Hector Elizondo (which pains me to say). Not even if you’re desperate. Not ever.

I have such caring and concerned friends - several of whom have noted the myriad of cat pictures posted to my blog.  This, they conclude, makes me dangerously close to being a cat woman.  That makes we want to post even more pictures of my cats ... maybe even other peoples cats.  After all, the notion of being a cat-woman-in-training makes me laugh.  Out loud.     

However, should I start wearing Moo Moos and fuzzy slippers around the house and cat vests out in public, you may want to hold an intervention ...

Who really does all the writing

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I spent the weekend with a whole slew of family members.  It started as a small gathering - me, my mom, my aunt and uncle; it morphed into a big conglomerate - 3 sets of aunts and uncles, my grama, 2 cousins, one cousin's fiance, and their sweet baby (who is cuter than ever I might add).  And it was perfect.  

We laughed nearly all weekend - at memories, at each other, at odd, goofy things that few would see as funny. 

It's not that we haven't experienced our share of heartache.  Quite the contrary.  But thru it all - thru the good, the bad, and the ugly - we've been there for one another.  We've kept our humor in tact.  It's what binds us together, keeps us going, keeps us strong. 

As I looked at each face I realized just how lucky I am - I have a multitude of biggest fans.  No matter how many times I fail - or how bad I crash and burn - they'll be there.  No matter if I publish a thousand books - or none at all - they'll be proud (knowing if I fail it's only because of the poor taste of agents, publishers, editors, etc., naturally).  No matter how my portfolio of humiliating episodes grows, I know they'll still love me (they may laugh, but they'll still love). 

And they can expect nothing less of me. 

I guess that's the beauty of family - despite all it's imperfection, it's the perfect gift.        

if only that damn crown wouldn't slip ...

A sad, but true story ...

There once was a girl who went to a funeral.  As she was saying goodbye to a friend, she shed a tear that opened the floodgate to thousands.  But the girl was not alone.  She was surrounded by others in the very same state.

After the memories had been shared, songs sung, and prayers murmured everyone gathered together.  It's what people do, you know.  They gather together to support one another.  To let the others know they are not alone.  And the girl was among them.  Just as she was about to share a story of her own she noticed a woman looking intently her direction.  She glanced over and smiled.  The woman continued to stare.  Finally, the woman spoke: "That's the thing with us fair skinned people, we cry and look HORRIBLE!"

But she didn't stop there.  No sir!  No sooner had she declared what she obviously had been thinking, she flung an arm around the somewhat drooped shoulders of the girl, and looked out to a sea of faces before them.  "Now you all ... " fanning her hand to the others, "you cry and you still look great.  But us - we cry and we look HORRIBLE!"  

The moral of the story: there are some things that - though thought - should never be uttered aloud.  Not ever.  Not in a million years.  Never-ever.  That's why God gave us filters.  And that's why we should use them.

A little entertainment for such a taxing day as today ...

YouTube - Tripod - Gonna Make You Happy
     

"Be the hero of your own story."

Rating:  PG

The gist:  Young Nim (Abigail Breslin) lives on her very own island with her scientist father (Gerard Butler).  Since she doesn't have to attend school, she's free to explore the island with her animal friends, cook up some creepy vittles and - her most favorite of all - read of the great adventures of Alex Rover(Gerard Butler).  When her father goes missing at sea, she seeks Alex's help.  Only Alex is Alexandra Rover (Jodie Foster) - the author and recluse.  With the help of her alter-ego, Alex, Alexandra sets out to help Nim ... and find adventure all her own. 

My take:  If pressed, I would simply say, take the kids, it'll be fun.  It's a light-hearted adventure story with quite a few laughs.

It's also cast with three very strong actors - Jodie Foster, Gerard Butler, and Abigail Breslin.  The fact that this movie allows you to see Jodie Foster in a comedy and Gerard Butler playing both the father and the action/adventure hero, is some good times in and of itself.     

And the animals!  The animals deserve special recognition - they received no credit (at least none that I could see) and yet they nearly stole the show!      

The downside, however, is the fact that Nim's Island had the potential to be a fun family classic.  It's still a fun movie, mind you.  There are simply a few things oddly irritating -narrating for instance.  There were scenes where the characters say - out loud - what they are doing or thinking.  And it's fairly obvious without the verbiage.  Perhaps they thought it would be helpful for children.  But here's the thing - kid's aren't stupid; and anyone who thinks otherwise are doing a disservice to all involved.  Of course, to counter that there are scenes that leave you wondering.  Why did she touch the cheek of the boy?  Was her mother really swallowed by a whale?  Because that's a bit creepy-corny.

All things considered, however, it remains a good movie for the family to share and enjoy.   

An aside (or two):  We had the theatre all to ourselves.  That meant I could profess my undying love and devotion to Gerard Butler - out loud. It also meant we could add our own HI-LARIOUS narration - much to our great amusement.  Now here's the thing ... we could do it because, again, we were the only ones in the theatre.  Helpful hint:  If you're NOT the only one in the theatre, Shut it!  

Although, I'm thinking a couple of us (I won't mention any names) may need to keep it to ourselves on the next go-around, empty theatre or otherwise.  However, on our behalf, I must say it really can't be helped that we're so very witty.  FURTHERMORE, P.S. I Love You was TOTALLY not our fault.  If we had seen the edited version of the film we would not have laughed until we cried, and nearly ruptured a spleen.  Granted, I know we got some ugly looks, but C'MON people!  It was funny!!  Well, maybe not for those poor souls who painstakingly edited the movie ... wretched luck really ...

From the moment I met my Danish friend, Vibeke, she gushed the virtues of her home country.  I, in turn, would smile sweetly, nod my head agreeably, and silently question her remarks.  After all, a good many people think their country best. 

So it came as a bit of a shock to me - and everyone who knew me - when I paid a wee visit to Copenhagen and was instantly smitten.

I loved the history and strolling the cobblestone streets.  I loved the glow of candles.  There are all sorts and varieties - tall ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones, on plates, on holders, in chandeliers, in lanterns.  And they're everywhere - lining window seals and entryways, adorning tables and service counters.  I loved the brightly colored buildings standing in attention on the "naughty" side - as if the structures themselves are in a constant state of celebration.  I loved the artwork, everywhere you looked - the dragon carved above the shop entryway, lizard tails forming the spire of a magnificent building, a man and his sons underwater statues, or the infamous Little Mermaid, never without her admirers.  I loved that I could take a drive along a winding road, lined with lush trees and thatched roof houses, until I came to the end and Hamlet's Castle.  There I could look across the water and wave to neighboring Sweden.  I loved that nationals are fiercely loyal to their royal family - and after perusing replica's of the King's studies adorned with picture after picture of loved ones, I loved that I felt a certain respect for them too. 

They say Denmark is the happiest place on earth.  They aren't the richest, nor the healthiest.  And yet they're the happiest. 

Copenhagen is known as the City of Fairy Tales.  Albert Einstein once said, "If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales.  If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales."  Perhaps there lies the key - in a land that has actually produced fairy tales, perhaps they know a thing or two.  Perhaps they truly understand the greatest wisdom of all - it's not what you have or haven't, it's being happy where you're at.       

If loving chocolate is wrong, I don't want to be right.  Obviously. 

"Every woman will have her day"

Genre:  Comedy-Romance

The gist:  Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day is the story of a day in the life of Guinevere Pettigrew (Frances McDormand) - a dowdy, down-on-her-luck governess.  The daughter of a minister, Miss Pettigrew feels it her duty to speak her mind about her employee's indiscretions, attempting to get them on the straight and narrow.  Needless to say, such "helpfulness" is not-so-very appreciated; when she is fired from her third assignment, the employment agency refuses to be of further service.  So she steals an assignment - becoming social secretary to Delysia Lafosse, an American actress.  Suddenly her life is anything but boring.  But it is her truthfulness and concerned meddling - the very things that got her in trouble in the first place - that will ultimately save the day. 

My take:  I LOVED this movie.  To anyone who has called me a throw-back ... or even thought it ... this will come as no surprise.  Set at the dawn of WWII England, I loved the setting, the styles, and the music.  That much is given.  But it's so much more.  The story (based on the novel by Winifred Watson) is heartfelt; the screenplay (written by David Magee and Simon Beaufoy) simply charming.  Bharat Nalluri's direction depicts life on the verge of WWII like a symphony; and the actors bring a hint of magic as witnessed in films of the golden era.  But that which holds it all together is the chemistry between Frances McDormand (Miss Pettrigrew) and Amy Adams (Delysia Lafosse).  Given the nature of the two parts, lesser actresses would have been little more than annoying.  Instead we are granted a rare glimpse at two opposing worlds - the carefree innocence of youth and the reserved wisdom of maturity.  And oh that we should be so lucky to have our own Miss Pettigrew touch our lives.        

An aside:  Yes, this movie is a chick-flick.  We had a pair of couples sitting behind us.  As we were leaving the theatre the "boys" were bemoaning the fact that they had to endure such agony.  The "girls" were of course trying to appease said boys by promising to go to 88 minutes on the next go around.  Of course, most of the comments from the peanut gallery came from the guys behind us.  And they were not snide remarks, I might add.  So whether they would ever - in a MILLION years - admit it, they too were engrossed in the film.  

So.  Friday night was the Spring Colloquium for Medieval Society.  When I first started working at my current place of employment, one of the guys I worked with was set on figuring out the reason I was still single.  One Friday I told him my big plans for the evening included attending a Colloquium.  Apparently, it all became clear.  But you, dear reader, are different I'm sure.  No doubt you have been waiting with bated breath for an update, so here it goes ...

Jim Stockton spoke on "Medieval Narnia" - how medieval perspectives are reflected in the works of C.S. Lewis.  Mr. Stockton is writing a book on the subject, so I shan't give away any spoilers.  I will, however, say this: it was intriguing.  Especially anything and everything regarding the Inklings. 

Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the Inklings - this was a group of scholars (most professors at Oxford) who met at pubs to discuss their writing.  This particular group highly valued the art of Narrative Fiction and believed Fantasy should be for adults as much as children.  This group included C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. 

Do I really need to state what I wouldn't give to go back in time and be a part of those discussions? Granted, I'm a girl.  If I could travel back in time I'd more than like still be a girl.  And that would never do. 

But a girl can dream ...

Flowers ... $150; wedding singer ... $50; leisure suit that matches the getaway car ... priceless