films – Page 12 – Ripple Effects

Top Ripples of 2013

It’s not easy to rate a whole year’s experience by Ripples, unlike a two-hour movie. However, here are some stats I’ve compiled for my own records.

Ripple Effects is all about books and movies. For me, watching a movie definitely is a much easier activity than finishing a book. So far this year, my movie number is around 100, almost three times as many as books I’ve read. They include movies I’ve watched on the big screen in theatres, at TIFF, and on DVD and Blu-ray formats at home. But I’m sure there are still a few I’d forgotten to jot down.

I’ve written 16 movie reviews on Ripple Effects this year, and they are not all 2013 releases. This number represents only a dearth of my film experience. From this small collection, there are two that I’ve given 4/4 Ripples (I’m sure I’ll add some more in this Award Season):

Nebraska
12 Years A Slave

These two came close, with 3½ Ripples:

Before Midnight
The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her (TIFF 13)

And several more with 3 Ripples. Click here to my review list.

For my trip to Toronto to attend TIFF in September, definitely a 4-Ripple experience.

Many of the movies I watched this year are “catch-up’s”. They are cinema classics I’d missed over the past decades. These are films that I’d long wanted to see but had not the time or the chance to. Yes, this ‘catching-up’ activity is a most enjoyable time for me. They don’t make movies like these anymore. No CGI, no colours even, yet we can see a kaleidoscope of characters, fantastic scenes and poignant human conditions. So, Top Ripples go to:

Federico Fellini’s I Vitelloni (1953), La Dolce Vita (1960), 8½ (1963)
Victorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves (1948)
Robert Bresson’s Au Hasard Balthazar (1966)
Akira Kurosawa’s Ikiru (1952), Rashomon (1950)
Sidney Lumet’s 12 Angry Men (1957)

Some others are book-related. Before the newest remakes come into being, I’d like to experience the original version, like:

Hitchcock’s Rebecca (1940)
Elia Kazan’s East of Eden (1955)
John Ford’s The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

Still other films I watched and/or rewatched to prepare for or just to go together with what looks like is their latest version, or homage, if you will, like the following to coincide with Before Midnight (2013):

Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage (1973)
Woody Allen’s Husbands and Wives (1992)

Or Elia Kazan’s A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) to go with Woody Allen’s Blue Jasmine (2013)

Along the way during this rewarding movie-watching year, I’ve discovered some foreign language films, two in particular stand out: Korean director Chang-dong Lee’s Poetry (2010) and Secret Sunshine (2007)

As a freelance reviewer, I continue to be a contributor to Asian American Press as their film and arts guest columnist. Further, and this I’m really excited about, my feature article on the Canadian-Korean playwright/actor Ins Choi was published on the December 4th issue of Curator Magazine.

Even though I’ve only read a small number of books compared to movies watched, I’m glad I’d completed a major challenge, and that’s reading Proust. It’s definitely a 4-Ripple experience for me, despite having had to slash my way through thickets and at times, find my way out of a literary labyrinth. My post on this first taste of Proust was featured on WordPress’s ‘Freshly Pressed’. Now that’s the bonus madeleines on top of an already savory meal.

Another book I hold high esteem is Eric Metaxas’s Bonhoeffer, a Read-Along I hosted earlier in 2013. I’d enjoyed the camaraderie of reading the same book with others, and the discussion of ideas. Finishing a book or not is not as important as taking part in the journey, even for a little while, as we share our thoughts. 4 Ripples.

For old acquaintances and new friends I’ve made in the blogging world this year, I must give another 4 Ripples. This is the major reward of blogging. To all the new blogs and sites I’ve discovered, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our mutual visits.

As for posts, looks like my “Quotable Quotes from Downton Abbey” has taken over “Memorable Movie Love Quotes” as the most popular these days. And I can understand why. Let’s get ready for Downton Season 4, coming up in just a few days.

And for my adventures as a nature paparazzo and bird-stalker, I give them nothing less than Top Ripples.

To 2014, I have a few ideas. This may involve a bit more individual studies, and researching into topics that have interested me for some time. Yes, films and their influence in our postmodern culture, into that topic I will continue to delve. So there you have it, more books and movies to share with you all. As always, I invite you to come by the pond and throw in your two pebbles. I cling on to my motto: “Serenity is golden, but sometimes a few ripples are needed as proof of life.”

To All, a Four-Ripple 2014!

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Nebraska (2013): Color is Superfluous

When a director decides to shoot his film in black-and-white, he must have certain confidence in the story, characters and aesthetics that he feels color may just be a distraction or even superfluous. Alexander Payne’s Nebraska is exactly that.

I have thoroughly enjoyed this slow-paced, thoughtful, aesthetically gratifying, and deadpan funny movie. To take a break from the cacophony of festivities, the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping, dinner planning and party hopping, Nebraska is a surprisingly fitting film to watch.

By no means is this a ‘holiday movie’, but if the season is about family, giving, and love, this is an apt offering on the big screen. There are strong thematic undercurrents that carry the quiet story from beginning to end. And I was gratified to see, once again, that visuals speak louder than words when it comes to the cinematic medium.

Woody Grant (Bruce Dern) is an old man of few words. Maybe the onset of dementia has driven him even more delusional and isolated, and alcohol doesn’t help either. Dern’s performance is spot on and totally engaging. From a marketing promo in the mail, Woody is convinced that he has won a magazine sweepstakes of one million dollars. He needs to get to Lincoln, Nebraska, to claim his prize. We see him at the beginning of the movie heading to Nebraska from Billings, Montana, on foot. He is too old to drive but not to walk.

Woody’s brash and critical wife Kate (June Squibb) calls their estranged sons David (Will Forte) and Ross (Bob Odenkirk) for help but all fail to dissuade him. Soften by the old man’s total absorption, and too kind to douse his dream, David takes a few days off work to drive his father to Nebraska. Thus begins an unlikely bonding road trip for father and son.

To quench his delusion, Kate and Ross will converge in Hawthorn, Nebraska, a town where Woody was born and spent most of his energetic years. There in Hawthorn, a fictitious town for the movie, they will meet up with Woody’s older brother Ray’s family for an impromptu reunion, hopefully to get Woody’s mind off Lincoln and the prize, and then they will return home to Montana after.

Hawthorn is the home of a younger Woody, a past that he rarely mentions, a place where his son David will come to discover a father he had never known. At Ray’s home, David meets his not-so-friendly cousins Randy (Kevin Kunkel) and Cole (Devin Ratray, remember the bad burglar from the first two Home Alone movies?) While the town folks are all congratulatory on his million-dollar win, Woody’s old auto business partner Ed Pegram (Stacy Keach) suddenly reminds him of outstanding debts.

A character whom I find the most endearing is Woody’s girl friend of his youthful past, the long time editor of the town’s newspaper Peg Nagy (Angela McEwan). She wants to run an interview with Woody about his alleged win. David meets up with her at the newspaper to clear up the misunderstanding. There we see a gentle and kind old lady who seems to have much admiration for his father, knowing him in the past as a sturdy, young man. Though now a widow, Peg is a happy and fulfilled grandmother. This is probably the most poignant scene of the movie. Through David’s learning of his Dad as a promising young man and this quiet, pleasant lady Peg, the haunting thought seeps into our mind: ‘What if things turned out differently?’ The black-and-white medium could well be the message itself. We are reminded of a past which we cannot relive. At the same time, we are provoked to think of the alternative scenarios of what could have been.

Director Payne had won two Oscars both for Best Adapted Screenplay for his previous acclaimed movies Sideways (2004) and The Descendants (2011). Nebraska is a totally different work, and one which I like the most among the three. A common thread that runs through all of them is the prominence of specific locales, the California wine country in Sideways, Hawaiian islands in The Descendants, and here the scenery flanking the long stretch of highways from Montana to Nebraska. In stirring and soulful black-and-white, the passing wide landscape of rolling hills and boundless prairies convey the existential passage of time, lost youth, and whatever memories that one accumulates or tries to forget, all immaterial as old age takes over, a soulful touch from the director of the new retiree played by Jack Nicholson in About Schmidt (2002).

But this is a comedy, and there are lots that I have responded with spontaneous chuckles and laughs. The humor is totally enjoyable, and so is the overall atmosphere. We see a change in the mood as the son begins to appreciate more about his father. The ending is affective and gratifying. A check on IMDb leads me to the tidbit that director Payne was born in Omaha, Nebraska. Ah… the river runs deep.

If I have a say, Nebraska would appear in the upcoming Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor (Bruce Dern), Best Cinematography (Phedon Papamichael), and Best Screenplay (Bob Nelson). However, considering the black and white styling, and the quiet, low-tech and slow-paced storytelling, it just may not attract those who are spectacle-driven. But that would be their loss.

~ ~ ~ ~ Ripples

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Other Awards Season Reviews on Ripple Effects:

12 Years A Slave: Beauty and Sadness

All Is Lost

Lee Daniel’s The Butler: The Trouble with Famous Faces

The Book Thief: From Book To Film

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The Book Thief (2013): From Book to Film

It’s been a week since I watched The Book Thief, but the face of Geoffrey Rush still creeps into my mind every now and then. We were talking about famous faces on a previous post. A good actor draws you right into his character without distractions from his previous roles, and here’s a good example. Regardless of Rush’s successful roles in the past, here in The Book Thief, I only see Hans, the nondescript yet loving step-father to Liesel.

The movie is an adaptation of the popular 2005 YA novel of the same name by Markus Zusak. The book had appeared on the New York Times Bestseller list for 375 weeks. It had since been translated into more than forty languages. Congruent with the age target of the book, this is an appropriate adaptation. It is a PG movie, so we won’t see the violence and horror as intense and explicit as in Schindler’s List.

Before anyone jumps to shoot it down as a ‘sanitized’ version of the Holocaust, let me just say it pertains to the spirit of the novel in quietly depicting life in a small German town under the pressure of Nazi warmongering. It shows a side of the usual WWII movies we seldom see, the ordinary German folks. Zooming in on a street in a small town, it shows the effects of a fierce political regime have on its grass-root citizens: husbands and wives, children, friends, neighbors and acquaintances like the neighborhood tailor or accountant, some of whom suddenly taken away and labelled as the Enemy: Jews.

The focus of the story is on the humanity. No doubt, the majority of the town folks are swayed by and immersed in Nazi ideology, yet there are still a few who stand silently against the ferocious regime, but can do nothing. Even a feeble voice of dissent will send them to conscription regardless of age. That’s what happens to Hans.

As in the book, we have Death as the voice-over narrator, quietly looming over the fictional town Molching, busy at work. Liesel (Sophie Nélisse) arriving at her new home to her adopted parents on Heaven Street. Yes, ironic, since her little brother has died during the trip. The girl soon finds her new home a comfort, and makes a new friend with Rudy (Nico Liersch) next door. Her step-mother is Rosa, played by Emily Watson who reprises her role as in The War Horse as the seemingly tough and bossy wife and overseer of the home. Her husband is Hans, played by Geoffrey Rush with affective charisma, who shows himself from the beginning that he is the emotion powerhouse, the engine that runs the movie.

Directed by Brian Percival (who helms episodes of Downton Abbey), the movie is unabashedly explicit in its emotional channeling. By that, I don’t mean it’s overtly sentimental and melodramatic. The fine line that separates the two may be the word ‘restraint’. Rush and Watson have depicted this quality memorably. He may look oblivious in appearance, but is ever wise and compassionate in spirit; she conversely holds a feisty facade only to hide a tender and caring heart. It is a delight watching them relate to each other.

For a YA novel turned into film, the spotlight has to be on the young protagonist Liesel. Sophie Nélisse is a precocious rising star who has won a Genie in the acclaimed French Canadian film Monsieur Lazhar (2011). She has already won a Spotlight Award at the Hollywood Film Festival for The Book Thief. Nico Liersch playing Rudy looks to be a few years too young, but being a good actor, the two loyal friends ultimately shine through as the movie picks up its momentum.

The plot line of hiding the Jewish young man Max, son of Han’s wartime comrade to whom he owes his life, adds texture to the story. Max inspires Liesel to love words even more, igniting that spark in her later to write down her story. To Max, the hiding place is more than a shelter from the storm. It is his connection to the decency and dignity of being human. The snowball fight in his hideout in the basement is one of my favorite scenes.

As for books, reading, and words, looks like they just work as a cover, in both the book and the movie. That Liesel comes as an illiterate ten year-old in Germany may not be quite plausible. The few episodes where she steals a book are incidental, lacking potent effects. The movie nevertheless is persuasive in its subtle way by turning mere book characters into flesh and blood human beings. The Book Thief is about humans. It shows their ugly face that haunts even Death, and their triumphant side that makes Death envious, the power to love, to hope, and to live despite tragedy and loss.

This is not a great film, but one that quietly touches, and subversively moves one to tears. It will not make any major award list, and would likely be dismissed by some critics. But this is the kind of films that, years later, one would discover serendipitously and exclaim, “Why have I missed this little gem?”

~ ~ ~ Ripples

12 Years A Slave (2013): Beauty and Sadness

UPDATE Feb. 16: 12 Years A Slave just won BAFTA 2014 Best Film and Chiwetel Ejiofor, Best Actor.

UPDATE: 12 Years A Slave is nominated for 9 Academy Awards including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actor, Best Supporting Actress, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Costume Design, Best Production Design, Best Film Editing.

Movies this season seem to come in pairs in terms of subject matter, which makes interesting viewing. Gravity and All Is Lost is a pair. Lee Daniel’s The Butler and 12 Years A Slave another. I watched them purposely back to back.

12 Years A Slave is powerful in many ways, most readily is the aesthetics and styling, both visual and audio. Before he turned to directing, Steve McQueen was a visual artist trained in fine art in London and New York, and it shows. His cinematic work is a testament to the fact that film is a mixed-media art form. More importantly, it shows that film art does not have to be esoteric, or be appreciated only by an ‘artsy’ few. 12 Years A Slave is an exemplar. It carries no elitism but speaks to all. What more, the subject matter may be ugly, but the medium depicting it can be artistically gratifying, thus, conveying the message with even greater potency and inspiration.

The film is an adaptation of the 1855 memoir written by Solomon Northup, a free black man, known for his skills in playing the violin. He was living happily with his wife and two children in Saratoga, New York. One day, two men came to offer him a gig to play the fiddle at a circus. Solomon was deceived, drugged, and later smuggled to Louisiana to be sold as a slave. There for twelve years, he endured insufferable hardships until he miraculously met a Canadian carpenter named Bass who stood against slavery. With his help Solomon found freedom and rejoined his family.

I disagree with some critics who assert that the film is too artfully directed, pristine and sanitized to convey the ugliness of the subject matter. One of the qualms they have is with a scene at the beginning of the movie wherein a beating is being shot with artful camera work and lighting. After he is drugged and chained in a dark holding cell, Solomon is fiercely beaten until the torturing paddle breaks in two. Amidst the total darkness in that filthy cell, we see him cower in pain, yet his white shirt literally shines. I noticed that scene too and appreciated how well it was shot. For me, I saw the glowing white garment as a powerful symbol of purity and innocence amidst utter depravity. I’m glad there’s an artist/director to helm this film. We are seeing how the cinematic medium can be sculpted to its full potential. I don’t see anything ‘art’-ificial about it or sense any contrivance.

The issue here is the paradox of conveying ugliness in a well-crafted and artful frame. I have no qualms with that. Should art capture beauty only? Or, should ugliness be depicted by casual and shoddy work in order to be ‘realistic’? The answer is elementary. A quality medium can only enhance the poignancy of the message.

On another level, the film shows us that amidst evil, beauty can still be found. It exists in the persevering spirit of Solomon Northup. Herein lies the inspiration of the story. I found this quote from an excellent interview article with director Steve McQueen. It speaks to the fact that, in the midst of utter sadness, the human spirit can still glean what’s positive and beautiful. From the memoir of Solomon Northup we read these words:

There are few sights more pleasant to the eye, than a wide cotton field when it is in the bloom. It presents an appearance of purity, like an immaculate expanse of light, new-fallen snow.

Acclaimed British actor Chiwetel Ejiofor’s performance as Solomon Northup is inspiration itself. His nuanced expressions portray clearly some very mixed and intense emotions under the most desperate of circumstances, like consoling a female slave lying next to him at night and yet keeping his integrity, or being forced by the sadistic Epps to whip another slave. Even at the point of despair, Solomon maintains his self-respect, remains upright and kind, and upholds a human spirit that no whips can break. The actor is also heading straight to the Oscars according to consensual predictions.

The excellent supporting cast also renders beauty to the overall production, some of whom might garner recognition of their own come Awards time. Newcomer Lupita Nyong’o is impressive as fellow slave Patsey, a desperate soul dangled on the edge of survival and despair. Paul Giamatti (who won a Golden Globe as John Adams in 2009) plays a mercenary slave trader. The excellent character actor Michael Fassbender (in both of McQueen’s previous films Hunger, 2008 and Shame, 2011) as slave breaker Epps embodies the wickedness of the system and a soul derailed. Paul Dano (There Will Be Blood, 2007; Prisoners, 2013) is within type as the murderous slave driver Tibeats. Again the paradox appears. We’re glad to see actors giving superb performance playing villainous roles.

Then there’s the versatile Benedict Cumberbatch, picking up a Southern drawl to portray the kind slave owner Ford. His scenes with Solomon offer some needed relief. Unfortunately, those better days are short-lived. The man who helps Solomon to freedom is Canadian Samuel Bass, very short screen appearance by Brad Pitt. He is an itinerant carpenter working on Epps’ land. This chance encounter makes Solomon aware of Bass’s anti-slavery stance. For the first time in all those years of captivity, he confides his true identity in someone trustworthy and pleads for Bass to contact help in his home state up north.

The music and sound, or the lack of it, are equally effective. Composer Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack ‘Solomon’ is epic and heroic. The spirituals sung by the slaves on the plantation express their deep yearnings for release and freedom. In one scene towards the end, we see other slaves singing their heart out the spiritual ‘Roll Jordan Roll’. At first Solomon listens as a bystander. After a while he can’t help but pour his soul out and join in. That’s the point he totally identifies with the others in their hopeless condition, calling out to God for deliverance.

What follows is memorable. Sometimes silence speaks louder than sound. That moment of silence marks the change of fate for Solomon. I was captivated by the lack of sound, and the camera static, closing up on Solomon’s face of apprehension and despair for a long minute. Often it is the slow, silent space a director allows us to absorb and wait that I appreciate most.

As I stepped out of the theatre, I breathed out a sigh of satisfaction. True there was much sadness in Solomon’s story, but I was relieved to see ultimately his perseverance pay off. I was gratified too that this story of the human spirit triumphant is well told in a meditative pace, sculpted artfully, and delivered by poignant performance. This is the beauty of film art.

~ ~ ~ ~ Ripples

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Download 12 Years A Slave the book

Solomon Northup from Wikipedia

The Underground Railroad

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Lee Daniel’s The Butler (2013): The Trouble with Famous Faces

The Butler is none other than Cecil Gaines, an African American who has worked in the White House serving eight presidents from the late 50’s to the 80’s. Never heard of him? Good, because, as screenwriter Danny Strong (who wrote the Sarah Palin satire Game Change) has emphasized, Cecil Gaines is a fictional character, albeit there was a real life person who had done similar things for thirty-four years through eight Administrations in the White House. He was Eugene Allen. The movie is fiction inspired by that true story. But here, it’s all about Cecil Gaines, a character that Forest Whitaker portrays convincingly.

That leads to this Disclaimer: This is not an Accuracy Police report. But, uh… just a memo from the Facial ID department.

After watching The Butler, I’d like to recommend that movie stars go on sabbatical leaves. After a certain number of years of high-profile, on-screen appearances, famous actors or talk show hosts should pursue other interests, anything that’s behind the camera… write, direct, produce, compose, climb K2… before coming back out for another movie role. For here, I can see the distractions that can come from too famous a face.

Why? It takes me a long while to adjust to Oprah being the alcohol-dependent Mrs. Gaines, despite her strong performance, or, tell myself that’s Dwight D. Eisenhower I’m looking at, not Robin Williams. With every Administration that flashes by, my focus as a viewer is more on figuring out which famous star is playing which famous politician. That’s James Marsden as JFK, and Liev Schreiber as uh… comical LBJ… sitting on a toilet while barking instructions to his staff?

By the time John Cusack comes on screen, I’m asking myself, now, who is he supposed to be? I can only see John Cusack, and it looks like he’s trying to convince me that, “No! I’m Richard Nixon!” He too, looks like a caricature. Later when Ronald Reagan appears, I can only see the make-up. Sorry Alan Rickman, didn’t recognize you. Looks like you’re wearing a Halloween mask. I must say though, hats off to Jane Fonda, she’s one good Nancy look-alike, although I know she has her share of protests. Now, that’s another issue… the incompatibility of ‘Hanoi Jane’ taking up the role of Nancy Reagan. I can understand why some Vietnam War vets are up in arms.

The trouble with famous faces… they have a hard time convincing viewers that they are not who they appear but the character they are playing. In The Butler, that just might not be a problem because it seems the filmmakers are confident that star power can get us through. Further, the sequences of Administrations go by so quickly, they are more like passing spectacles than memorable episodes.

Other than star powers that function only on appearance, there are some riveting scenes from the main storyline, that of a father-son relationship against the backdrop of racial turmoils in America. While Cecil Gaines works as a butler in the White House all those years, his son Louis (David Oyelowo) has been deeply involved in the Civil Rights Movement, arrested and jailed several times, often putting his life at risk. Major differences in political viewpoints generate sparks and tensions to eventual deep gulf between father and son.

A memorable scene is when father and son argue at the dinner table over Sidney Poitier winning the Academy Award. Cecil thinks that is a sign showing white people are accepting and honoring blacks. But son Louis points out Poitier is appeasing white viewers in presenting himself as a white, black man. Interesting thought, not unheard of. The subsequent result of the argument makes a memorable scene.

Juxtaposing actors’ performance with visceral archival footage of racial violence like the lunch counter sit-ins, the Freedom Bus burning by the Ku Klux Klan, the assassination of Martin Luther King… makes some informative and engaging storytelling. That may be the reason why, after the pivotal historical accounts of the Civil Rights Movement, the movie begins to lose my attention. What looks to be significant begins to appear parochial towards the end, where I even feel some partisan undercurrents.

Overall, the movie may have been too ambitious in covering everything, a father-son relationship, the black family, the country’s racial conflicts, the Vietnam War, to South Africa’s Apartheid. Its Forest Gump-esque storytelling lacks a unified and consistent styling. The incompatibility applies to the choice of music too. I’m fine with the period music of the eras, but using the Schumann Piano Concerto in A Minor at the opening scene feels like a mismatch. Other familiar classical pieces like Mozart’s piano sonatas for White House scenes sound like casual and superficial picks.

A movie riding on its star-studded cast… a mixed bag of famous faces. If you like a parade, this is fun to look at.

~ ~ 1/2 Ripples

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Screenwriters Talk and Bloggers Blog

Thanks to blogger Sim at Chapter 1-Take 1 for the heads-up, I watched the whole 54 mins. of The Writers Roundtable via Hollywood Reporter. Gearing up for the upcoming Awards Season, these Roundtable talks give us a chance to hear some possible award contenders talk about their craft. I’m particularly drawn to the writers.

“No great film would have been possible without a great screenplay.” That’s how the clip begins. Sitting around a table to discuss their experience are some of this year’s acclaimed screenwriters.

The panel includes (In alphabetical order of the movie title):

John Ridley: 12 Years a Slave
Julie Delpy: Before Midnight
Nicole Holofcener: Enough Said
Jonas Cuaron: Gravity
Danny Strong: Lee Daniel’s The Butler
George Clooney and Grant Heslov: The Monuments Men (release date has since been delayed till next Feb.)

There are lots of interesting exchanges, and it’s refreshing to hear them talk uncensored and unscripted. Take for example the following dialogue relating to independent writing vs. writing for studio:

HR (Hollywood Reporter): Have you written any studio films?
Holofcener: Only for money (chuckle from somewhere). I mean like, not for myself.

HR (to all): Do you like writing?
Strong: I do. I really enjoy it. I spent years as an actor. You just can’t go do it. You get hired to do it, so I started writing, to get my mind off the auditions…
Holofcenter: What if you can’t act, and you can’t write?
Clooney: You direct.

There are lengthy discussions on the issue of historical accuracy, the truths vs. dramatization. I feel this is the hot topic lately, with The King’s Speech a couple years ago, to last year’s torture scenes in Zero Dark Thirty, the accuracy of Argo, and this year’s Captain Philips, and Lee Daniel’s The Butler.

Here’s The Butler‘s screenwriter Danny Strong’s defence:

Strong: Well, in the case of The Butler, I made very clear that this was a fictionalization. So much so that I changed the character’s name to Cecil Gaines in the hope of saying: “This isn’t Eugene Allen. This is something else.” But the history in the film is all true…”

And then comes Clooney’s allegation unplugged.

Clooney: This is a new thing, by the way. This is all, like, bloggers — if that existed when Lawrence of Arabia came out, believe me, Lawrence’s own autobiography would not hold water. Patton wouldn’t. You can go down the list of movies — Gandhi — these movies are entertainment… These are not documentaries. You’re responsible for basic facts. But who the hell knows what Patton said to his guys in the tent?

Whoa… bloggers? Thank goodness, bloggers get a chance to prod screenwriters to dig deeper into their facts, even if fiction is to be made from them. Because of bloggers, viewers can sharpen their senses to not just accept the dramatization as facts. Because of bloggers posting about movies, people are made more aware of historical events and background info. I see not all sites do, but the ones I frequent can have the effect of honing one’s judgement and critical thinking, even (maybe more so) when opinions differ. How we need these skills as we watch movies nowadays instead of just being passively entertained (or not).

Thanks George, for spelling out the importance of the work bloggers do.

You’re right too, George, because of the blogosphere, filmmakers now have to deal more rigorously (or, don’t they?) with the dichotomy between truth and fiction, historical accuracy and dramatization. Yes, the butler Cecil Gaines is a fictional character, but there are many real historical figures in that story context… like, say… Ronald Reagan, whose son Michael Reagan had protested against the film for painting his father with a racist brush.

As someone with a half-baked screenplay in the closet, I know how hard it is to even get to finish the first draft, and after that, hopefully, find someone qualified and experienced enough to read it and advise on rewrite. Then you go and rewrite, and rewrite some more. So I’m all respectful for all who can not only sell their spec script but actually see it produced, and not only produced, but distributed and shown on our theater screens. That’s why I attempt at every review with appreciation and humility.

At the same time, I’m also glad to see that the blogosphere has leveled the playing field for opinions and critiques, for accountability, and for creative expressions with checks and balances. I don’t see an end to the dichotomy between fact and dramatization, accuracy and entertainment, but at least we are free to challenge and critique. Don’t forget, George, bloggers are also the ones ready to defend and promote worthy productions. All for the better.

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Related Posts on Ripple Effects:

Before Midnight: Reality Check

The King’s Speech: Fact and Fiction

Zero Dark Thirty and Argo

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About Time (2013): The Use and Abuse of Superpower

Time travel can be tricky. The idea has been used so many times that it has almost turned into a cliché. While it can bring about interesting cinematic moments, offering some creative, postmodern juxtapositions, it is hard to navigate that overused capsule of storytelling to new height.

This is a movie I’d anticipated. Not that I’m a fan of Richard Curtis, but I do find a couple of his works delightful. He is the prolific writer/director/producer of many popular romantic comedies. His works in any of the above-mentioned capacities include Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994), Notting Hill (1999), Bridget Jones’s Diary and its sequel (2001, 2004), Love Actually (2003), The Girl in the Café (2005), and the not so romantic comedies of Mr. Bean (1992-2007), among many other titles. About Time is his third movie as director.

While I’m indifferent to the travel back in time story idea, I do have fond memories of a few movies which now have found a place in my mental playlist, tagged time travel. They include Somewhere In Time (1980), Kate and Leopold (2001), and the more recent, Midnight In Paris (2011). As for About Time, despite my high anticipation, I’m afraid it will slip away in no time.

The year Tim (Domhnall Gleeson) turns 21, his Dad (Bill Nighy) tells him a secret: all the men in his family have the power to travel back in time. Fine. What you will use this extraordinary power for is totally up to you. Dandy. Tim knows exactly what to do with it: find a girl to love. Not a hard decision, for Tim tends to be a novice in relationships and unsure of himself. He soon sets his eyes on Mary (Rachel McAdams).

Tim has the time of his life trying out his new-found power. He uses it to redo the mistakes he has made, erase the speech bubbles he has messed up, reappear as more savvy than he really is. To his advantage, he hits on Mary and repeats his romancing act with her multiple times, she oblivious of being played. This being the brunt of a joke is highly problematic. That it is a comical episode does not mask the fact that this is an obvious abuse of superpower.

But of course, the film is made up of many more episodes. We see Tim and Mary get married and have children of their own. There are accidents and mishaps, and Tim soon finds out that even though he can go back in time, he cannot avoid consequences of actions, his and others. The last part of the movie seems a shift from earlier segments in delivering lines that get a bit too sentimental and preachy, utterances of platitudes.

Director Curtis has a fine cast in his hands. However, maybe because of the romcom genre, they give the impression of an overacting bunch. If Domhnall Gleeson does not ring a bell you might want to travel back to Harry Potter movies, True Grit, and last year’s Anna Karenina where he played Levin in the adaptation of Tolstoy’s classic. I definitely enjoyed his Levin role more. Rachel McAdams, interestingly, has been in several time travel movies, including Midnight in Paris. Again, her act there is more convincing. Well, to quote Mr. Darcy, the epitome of aloof coolness, they ‘smile too much.’

So that’s when I doubly appreciate Bill Nighy. You don’t have to smile in order to be funny. Actually, you should refrain from doing just that. He is the veteran here and I feel he saves the show. Nighy’s performance turns sentimental episodes into moving moments, especially with the father-son relationship.

A lightweight, sugar-coated romcom, definitely an item on the dessert menu, that is, if you don’t much care for the main dish.

~ ~ 1/2 Ripples

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Other related reviews on Ripple Effects:

Midnight In Paris (2011)

The Girl In The Café (2005): The Hunger for Connection

Anna Karenina (2012)

True Grit: A Cool Summer Read and Movie

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All Is Lost (2013)

If Life of Pi (2012) is magical realism, then All Is Lost is absolute realism. Some say it’s a modern version of Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. I tend to see it as the flip side of Life of Pi. It is the magical, the supernatural that we pant for while watching the man in the film silently struggle to stay alive in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Without a miracle, this is what it is.

At the back of my mind was this query… In our age driven by visual spectacles and mega sights and sounds, why would someone take up a project of this nature, a 106 minute feature film with just one character and no dialogue, except for a few words from voice over in the opening when the man utters what seems to be his last words to his loved ones.

I admire the courage and talent of writer/director J. C. Chandor, who writes a 32 page script (according to IMDb) and directs it as a minimalist production in a time when the movie industry has gone ultra mega and high tech. All Is Lost is only Chandor’s second feature film. His directorial debut which he also wrote? Margin Call (2011), about the tempest in the tumultuous ocean of investment banking. Versatility is the mark of talent indeed.

But the film belongs to Robert Redford. No longer The Sundance Kid (1969) here but a 77 year-old actor playing a man dangling over the edge of survival. Redford just might have put forth the definitive performance in his long career. He has taken on the role with grace and gentleness, a paradox to his predicament in such a physical drama. He carries the whole film by engaging our empathy. His screen presence is the replacement of fancy plot lines, setting and dialogues. He plays a character with no name. Only when the end credits roll do we find out that he is called ‘Our Man’.

Unlike Tom Hanks in Cast Away (2000), who speaks and yells his mind, and socializes with a volley ball, Our Man is the epitome of restraint. He is the strong and silent type of veteran sailors on a solo voyage, who encounters the misfortune of being stranded in the vast ocean. At the beginning of the film we see Our Man wake up to find his sailboat has been hit by a loose cargo container floating by. The sailboat is taking on water through a hole in the hull. The radio and equipments are damaged. Our Man deals with the situation resourcefully. He uses a repair kit to mend the damage, pump water out, dry out his boat. We see him eat and shave.

Just as he has made some headway to restore safety, an impending storm blows his way. Our Man is no match for nature’s callous ferocity. He ends up having to escape a sinking boat and jump into a life raft, bringing with him a meager supply of food and water. He learns to use a sextant, and carefully charts his drift. His only hope is to be seen if his raft drifts into the course of cargo ships. He utters no words except for a futile S.O.S. call while in his sinking boat, and one expletive out of total frustration in the raft after a few days of bare survival.

One man, one raft, one sea. The wide-screen cinema is probably the best medium to depict such an existential predicament. We don’t need special effects, for this is all that we have. And the nameless ‘Our Man’ shows how universal he is. And what of him? A patient and courageous man trying with all that he has and all that he is to stay alive, waiting to be found, hoping to be saved.

Do we need to know the name on that cargo container that hit his boat? It really is immaterial considering all that Our Man has gone through and all the efforts he has put forth to be saved. But just for information, we see the name in English, ‘Ho Won’, an obvious translation from the two Chinese words below: “Good Luck”. A jest too harsh.

Spoiler Alert. If you have not seen the film, you might want to skip the next paragraph, just that one. If you have seen the film, you’re most welcome to share your thoughts on the ending.

Like Life of Pi, the ending is open to your own interpretation. Two lines of thoughts conjured up as I watched the open-ended final scene: Only when one has lost all would one be saved. Or, go into that good night with gentleness, for brightness awaits. I can see both these scenarios to be applicable here. Again, this is one of those films that leaves the viewer to draw the conclusion, a type of ending which may not be very popular but one that conveys the multiplicity of reality.

As the credits roll, we hear the song for the film. I first thought singer songwriter Alex Ebert was calling ‘Our Man’ throughout his song. As I later found in the credits, it was ‘Amen’ (with the ‘Ah’ sound). Yes, ‘Amen’ is the title of the song.

A fine movie to watch with a quiet mind and patient disposition. A necessary offering in our present day of excess among some numbing and mindless entertainment. It’s like holding your breath in your hectic course of life for 106 minutes, and survive.

~ ~ ~ Ripples

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Click here to listen to Alex Ebert’s song ‘Amen’ and watch the trailer of the movie All Is Lost.

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Munro and Movies

Thanks to the Swedish Academy, Alice Munro doesn’t need a blockbuster movie to raise awareness of her works. Described by The New York Times as ‘Master of the Intricacies of the Human Heart’, and with her story settings mostly in rural counties and small towns, the 82 year-old writer must have known how the small and intimate can have far-reaching effects.

The short story as a literary form too must have gained importance and legitimation overnight now that Munro is honored as Nobel Laureate. The novel isn’t the only peak of the mountain of literary pursuits. Readers too, can now be totally comfortable with reading ‘just a short story’.

Back to movies, with our contemporary mega, blockbuster culture, it sure looks like the general public need to see a movie before knowing about a literary work. While I don’t like the idea, I’ve to admit that could well be the case nowadays. But for Munro, can anyone name a full feature movie that’s based on her short stories?

Right. Actually there are four. Edge of Madness (2002) is relatively unknown. Another one interestingly is an Iranian film, Canaan, which won the Audience Awards–Best Film at the Fajr International Film Festival in 2008. A better known adaptation is Away From Her (2006). It remains one of my all time favorite films. The most recent completed production is Hateship Loveship which premiered at TIFF13. I regret missing it when I was there in September. A film based on her story ‘Runaway’ is currently in development.

With Munro winning the Nobel, hopefully we’ll have the chance to see a general release of Hateship Loveship. So there you go, Munro could well be helping to reverse the trend: the writer promoting the film.

To celebrate Munro’s Nobel win, I’d like to repost in the following a review of Away From Her which I wrote in 2008. The film was directed by the young and talented Canadian actor/director Sarah Polley, who was nominated for an Oscar for her adapted screenplay based on Munro’s short story ‘The Bear Came Over the Mountain’. Julie Christie received an Oscar nomination for her role as Alzheimer’s afflicted Fiona.

You can read Munro’s story ‘The Bear Came Over the Mountain’ now online, thanks to a timely reprint by The New Yorker.

AWAY FROM HER: A Short Review

How can you turn a good short story into a full length movie without compromising its quality? By turning it into a screenplay written by an equally sensitive and passionate writer, and then, through her own talented, interpretive eye, re-creates it into a visual narrative. Along the way, throw in a few veteran actors who are so passionate about what the script is trying to convey that they themselves embody the message.

Sarah Polley has made her directorial debut with a most impressive and memorable feat that I’m sure things will go even better down her career path. What she has composed on screen speaks much more poignantly than words on a page, calling forth sentiments that we didn’t even know we had. As Alzheimer’s begins to take control over Fiona, what can a loving husband do? Julie Christie and Gordon Pinsent stir up thoughts in us that we’d rather bury: how much are we willing to give up for love? Or, how would we face the imminence of our loved ones’ and our own mental and physical demise?

Based on the story by Alice Munro, ‘The Bear Came Over the Mountain’, Polley brings out the theme of unconditional love not with your typical Hollywood’s hot, young, and sexy on screen, but aging actors in their 60’s and 70’s. It may not be as pleasurable to watch wrinkled faces hugging and kissing, or a man and a woman in bed, bearing age spots and all, but such scenes effectively beg the question: why feel uncomfortable?

Why does love has to be synonymous with youth, beauty, and romance? It is even more agonizing to watch how far Grant is willing to go solely for love of Fiona. Lucky for us, both writers spare us the truly painful at the end. It is through persistent, selfless giving that one ultimately receives; however meager and fleeting that reward may seem, it is permanence in the eyes of love. And it is through the lucid vision of a youthful 28-year-old writer/director that such ageless love is vividly portrayed…. Oh, the paradoxes in life.

~ ~ ~ Ripples

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The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Him and Her (2013)

I keep reminding myself, my evaluation of The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Him and Her should not be affected by the appearance of Jessica Chastain, her real self, in the theatre. That was an unexpected and most exhilarating episode in my TIFF13 experience.

After over an hour waiting inline outside, we were ushered into the historic building (100th anniversary this year) that housed the beautiful Elgin and the Winter Garden Theatres. And lo and behold, I saw Jessica Chastain standing right there in a press line answering questions. Who can take a focused shot with steady hands while being herded like sheep quickly passing by Jessica Chastain?

Here’s a sharper view but no better vantage point:

Disappearance is two films in one. It tells how a couple deals with loss, and the subsequent effect on their relationship, from His and Her point of view. Each is a 90 minute film that can stand on its own. We were shown first Him, then Her, with no intermission. I know at some other screenings, it’s the other way round. Now, that is intriguing. Will the audience perceive quite a different story then?

The concept had been found in previous films. Kurosawa’s classic Rashomon comes to mind. It presents four different points of view consecutively in one film from those involved in a crime. A more recent movie Vantage Point uses the idea but is miserably repetitive.

With Disppearance, we have a fresh, contemporary take on this high concept. Being made into two films allow deeper character development and more complex storytelling. It is innovative but not redundant as one might suspect. And that’s the ingenuity of writer/director Ned Benson. His screenplays for both are intelligent, perceptive and thought-provoking.

The first part Him is more elliptical. As viewers, we know little to start, but are eager to find out more about the couple. Why does an amicable and romantic relationship becomes incommunicable, and with the wife disappearing, walking out of the relationship? We soon find out the reason. I would not spoil it for you.

To deal with his situation, the husband, Conor (James McAvoy, Atonement), spends his energy on saving a losing business, his little restaurant in NYC. I suppose, as a man would, diverging his focus into career and business. Ciaran Hinds plays his father, a successful restaurateur who offers his son what he has established, a proposal that is turned down.

Bill Hader is deadpan funny as Conor’s good friend and chef in the restaurant. A friend can help him cope, but Conor knows ultimately he has to walk the path himself. The last scene is open-ended, a good lead into the Her perspective.

Him: ~ ~ ~ Ripples

After watching Him, I was eager to find out Her story. Jessica Chastain (Zero Dark Thirty, The Tree of Life) is Eleanor Rigby, her parents having met in a Beatles concert, thus the namesake. But the film is not about the song, albeit we do hear the relevant line.

This second part is most gratifying. Not only does it fill in the gaps, it has gone deeper into Eleanor’s pains and her struggles to find herself once again… or maybe, for the first time. While Conor immerses himself in his restaurant, Eleanor returns to her family.

William Hurt plays Eleanor’s dad, a psychology professor who stands by as a loving father would, albeit helplessly. He suggests Eleanor take courses part time, which she does. Thus leads to some interesting scenes and meaningful dialogues with her prof played by Viola Davis, a role that the talented actor deserves. She gets to deliver that poignant line in the Beatles song:

All the lonely people, where do they all come from?

The veteran French actor Isabelle Huppert is Eleanor’s mother, always with a glass of wine in hand. There is no perfect family. She has her own issues to deal with, let alone contributing to a healing process.

Jess Weixier as Eleanor’s sister puts forth an excellent, complementary performance to Chastain’s. She is a single mother living in her parents’ house and raising an eight year-old son. She too, has to play the hand life deals her as best she can. From the Q and A after the screening, we learn of the long-time friendship between Chastain and Weixier, and it shows. Their performance makes me long for the experience of sisterhood.

And we learn too that Ned Benson wrote Her especially for Jessica Chastain, who ten years earlier introduced herself after watching Benson’s short film and was much impressed by it. Chastain was emotional when recounting the incident, moved that now ten years later, Benson is finally being acknowledged.

With such a high calibre cast, I could have sat there for another hour. There are lots to think about, and the cast makes it enjoyable for us to do just that in the films.

How can a response to any situation be shared while we see and feel so differently? One’s perspective is uniquely one’s own, an interplay of subjective perceptions, past experiences, psychological makeup, temperaments, rationality…. These two films screened back-to-back is the most vivid way to convey this point. How then can two people unite despite differences in perspectives?

As I write this post, Proust’s madeleines eating episode comes to mind. The memory and sentiments elicited from an experience is personal and subjective. And that’s what these two films show us. Even within the same scene, the camera takes on a different angle and point of view. Most interesting is that, even the dialogues are different. We can see the discrepancies in their memories and knowledge (or lack of) of themselves and each other. And when it comes to love, how each would want to hear the other taking the initiative to say ‘I love you.’

Her: ~ ~ ~ 1/2 Ripples

To top it off, we were given a chance to hear the cast share their experience in a Q and A session after the screening. From left to right Jess Weixier, Cirian Hinds, James McAvoy, Jessica Chastain.

Whole Experience: ~ ~ ~ ~ Ripples

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All photos in this post taken by Arti of Ripple Effects. Please do not copy or reblog.

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TIFF 2013: Books into Films

Have been in Toronto all week for the Toronto International Film Festival. Taken a lot of photos but these few I’m going to share with you first for Saturday Snapshot Sept. 14, for they are what Ripple Effects is all about: Books and Films.

Saw this sign in a major bookstore beside a TIFF screening venue:

The movie is in the book.

Indeed, many of this year’s TIFF selections are based on literary sources.

From biographies to biopics:

If you or your book group are starting a new season of reading, you may find some interesting titles in the following list of films screened at TIFF this year (click on link to the film adaptation):

12 Years a Slave by Solomon Northup

August: Osage County by Tracy Letts (Pulitzer Prize-winning play)

Child of God by Cormac McCarthy

The Dinner by Herman Koch

The Double by Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Double by Nobel Prize-winning author José Saramago (Film: Enemy)

Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage by Alice Munro (Film: Hateship, Friendship)

Horns by Joe Hill

How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff

The Invisible Woman by Claire Tomalin

Known and Unknown by Donald Rumsfeld (Film: The Unknown Known)

Labor Day by Joyce Maynard

Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela

Mary Queen of Scotland by Stefan Zweig (Film: Mary Queen of Scots)

The Railway Man by Eric Lomax

Salinger by David Shields and Shane Salemo

The Sea by John Banville

The Switch by Elmore Leonard (Film: Life of Crime)

Under the Skin by Michel Faber

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Saturday Snapshot is hosted by Melinda of West Metro Mommy Reads. Click here to see what others have posted.

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Blue Jasmine (2013): Homage and Re-Imagining

Sometimes when we see different versions of an original piece of art we tend to dismiss them as cheesy imitations, turning art into a cliche, like, the many faces and parodies of the Mona Lisa.

And sometimes, when we see a work that we know is a new version of an older masterpiece and yet we appreciate it, all because it brings us a breath of fresh air, a different perspective, new insights, a re-imagining, or offers us some new pleasures.

Here are a few examples. Robert Bresson’s Pickpocket (1959) is the auteur’s version of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, and movingly crafted. West Side Story (1961), we appreciate it as a different styling of Romeo and Juliet. Kurosawa’s Ran (1985), we know it to be a Japanese rendition of King Lear, and we marvel at the director’s handling of a Shakespearean classic from a different culture. A bit later, the younger generation in the 1990’s enjoyed Clueless (1995) even though they may not have noticed the resemblance to Jane Austen’s Emma. With Disturbia (2007), we see Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window making its way into the minds of teenaged viewers, and who cares that they didn’t even know it.

Woody Allen has done that many a times in his over four decade career as a director, creating different versions of the works from those he had expressed deep admiration. Call it homage, if you will, or borrowing, but we never have the impression that he’s ‘copying’. Copying is mindless triviality. But a look at Allen’s Interiors, we’ll see the deep shadow of Ingmar Bergman’s Cries and Whispers, the intense yet intimate styling of a chamber drama. Or Hannah and Her Sisters, an apt parallel with Bergman’s Fanny and Alexander. Crimes and Misdemeanors and Match Point, we see him deal with the issue of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, or rather, crime and the absence of punishment. I’m sure you can think of some more examples.

So here with Allen’s 48th feature Blue Jasmine, does it matter that its structure and characterization parallel Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire, the Elia Kazan 1951 classic movie? Especially when we see such a finely crafted, enjoyable, and impressively performed modern version, we can only admire Allen’s imagination and creativity. I have a feeling that he (or his casting staff) gets Cate Blanchett to star as Jasmine because of her on-stage mastery of Blanche Du Bois in Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire performed not too long ago.

With Blue Jasmine, the 77 year-old director seems to have hit his stride yet again. Two years ago, Midnight in Paris brought him the highest opening box office gross in his career, now Blue Jasmine has surpassed that. Blue Jasmine will also be the widest screened Woody Allen movie, so far. It reaffirms the director’s talent in how he can bring out the best from his actors.

Cate Blanchett turns from blanche to blue, but just the same as she steps down the social ladder in a fragile mental state, dependent on a cocktail of alcohol and anti-depressants. She is Jasmine, a New York socialite who has to go stay with her working class sister Ginger (Sally Hawkins) in San Francisco after her husband Hal (Alec Baldwin) meets the full legal consequence of his fraudulent business dealings, a definite change of course from Allen’s earlier movies Crimes and Misdemeanors and Match Point.

The real and imaginary in Jasmine’s mind is smoothly shifted as we see her delusional self living in the present and the past at the same time. Allen handles it very well. The non-lineal storytelling is seamless. Blanchett is superb in her lucid performance, portraying convincingly a whole spectrum of emotions and mental states, while tugging at our heartstrings as we see her try desperately to stand on her own two feet for the first time in her life. This is where Allen is best, piercing sad human situations with light and gentle humor.

Allen has plenty of materials to poke fun at and chances to deliver his social commentaries. Yes folks, there is a class system in democratic America, and the humor in the film is at the expense of both the upper class and maybe more, the menial workers. Mind the gap, for it is unbridgeable. Fact is, the fun of the film, I’m afraid, is at the expense of depicting some of the characters a bit like caricatures. Having said that, I must applaud the wonderful acting from the supporting cast. They look like they are convinced first of their character’s idiosyncrasy, making their portrayals so unabashedly natural.

Further, Allen seems to redeem himself in presenting a moralistic stance. True love can be found right there in Ginger’s circle with her devoted boyfriend Chilli (Bobby Cannavale), whom Jasmine calls a ‘loser’; the deceivers are from the upper crust, Hal (Alec Baldwin) being the prominent figure. Others who may look like a step up for Ginger could well be a mirage. The wonderful supporting cast includes Andrew Dice Clay as Ginger’s ex-husband Augie, Louie C. K. the seemingly hopeful sound engineer, Michael Stuhlbarg, the serious man turned desperate dentist, and Peter Sarsgaard as Dwight, no doubt the parallel of Mitch (Karl Malden) in A Streetcar Named Desire (1951).

Blanchett’s Jasmine performance has already sent out Oscar buzz, and it’s only August. She carries the film through brilliantly. An Oscar nomination should be well deserved. We are glad to find too that Allen has not missed a beat after his success with Midnight in Paris, still churning out enjoyable films on an annual basis, while sometimes a superb actor can much enhance our appreciation, as it is the case here.

~ ~ ~ Ripples

Other related posts:

Midnight In Paris

A Serious Man (Michael Stuhlbarg)

An Education (Peter Sarsgaard)

Do we need a Rebecca Remake? Another Grapes of Wrath?

Art and Cliché

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