Tuesday Tunes #4

At Ned's birthday we chatted with fellow film nerds about the best movie musical, and we were all in agreement that Sound of Music is pretty much flawless.

Can't Get Enough of This

You Knew This Was Coming...

My thoughts on Spike Jonze's Where The Wild Things Are.

I've found that people are having really strong reactions to this film. Reviewers are claiming it's too scary for children. Others are saying it's not scary (or compelling) enough. And many are saying it's not for children in the first place, but for nostalgic 30-something hipsters who remember reading the book as children. Which then leads to the question of whether or not Jonze and screenwriter Dave Eggers did an appropriate job of adapting a ten-sentence book into a feature-length film. Personally, I was disappointed at one big change: in the film, Max runs away from home and finds himself in the land of the wild things, while in the book version, his own room transforms into a forest, and the wild rumpus all takes place within the safety of his home. Nevertheless, I liked the movie an awful lot and have been thinking about it-- and the many varied responses-- quite a bit since seeing it.

Let me first say, I'm happy that a children's movie is garnering so many passionate reactions. Unsurprisingly, that didn't happen with other box office toppers like G-Force or Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs. We should be thinking more about what kids are watching. It's clear to me that Jonze and Eggers really carefully and thoughtfully considered childhood in their work, and attempted to create a unique film that both represented and respected how kids think and feel. Of course, they are highly influenced by their own nostalgic 30-something hipster interpretations, and Max (extremely well-acted by Max Records) definitely reflects that.

My own (very unscientific) survey reveals that Jonze and Eggers succeeded in creating a character that's familiar and accessible to kids. To determine this, I consulted an expert who I'd not yet heard from in any of the various reviews, articles and blog entries: a kid. Emma, age 9, loved the movie. To summarize, she thought that the monsters "looked exactly right," it was "the scariest" when Carol chases Max, that K.W. was "the nicest" wild thing, and that overall the story was "really, really sad" but that Max "learned a lesson."

So while I'm pretty positive that yes, Where The Wild Things Are is a great children's movie, let's remember that kids are individuals. Some of them will love it, and some of them will hate it. If I had to get more specific, I might say it is geared more towards older kids, and while little ones might enjoy the book, the film version is a bit too slowed paced. But that's OK, the wee ones can look forward to looking back on an old favorite story. Probably there are some kids who will feel bored by the film's unconventional plot and pacing; if they're only watching the standard Hollywood fare, they likely haven't yet been exposed to anything quite like WTWTA. Which only means directors should be making more unusual, thoughtful and artistic films for young people-- kids will rise to the occasion.

All in the (Perkins) Family

I've blogged about Elvis Perkins in Dearland before. I've been listening to him a lot more lately; his music suits fall weather quite well.

While reading up on him a bit, I discovered that he is the son of Anthony Perkins. (Film History 101: Anthony Perkins played the famous psychopath Norman Bates in Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho)
I've spent a lot of time watching, rewatching, analyzing and talking about Perkins' outstanding performance as part of a high school film studies course I taught, and developed a little retro-Celebrity Crush on him. I realize that's a little creepy on my part, but come on, Norman Bates is a total charmer!

In any event, I was delighted to discover this dynamic father/son duo. They are both so good at what they do.

Childhood Memories Remixed

Electronic music artist Pogo creates tracks by sampling and mixing sounds from films, many of them children's movies. He also creates awesome music videos to accompany them. I have watched this one, based on the movie Hook, about a million times. This was a favorite movie of mine circa 1997, and one of the few I still own on DVD. I love the choice of raw material and the results.


I realize quite of few of you out there might have never seen Hook (shame on you) so here's another example based on Mary Poppins.


If there were a Reappropriate This Academy Award, Pogo would surely be the winner.

Ponyo!

Two thumbs up for Hayao Miyazaki's latest film, Ponyo. It's true that the plot-- a Little Mermaid, Finding Nemo and Whale Rider type story all rolled into one-- doesn't quite make sense and at moments the characters' choices seem unmotivated or unbelievable. (Is that sea wizard good or bad? Why would the mother, voiced by Tina Fey, leave two small children alone in a storm?) But Ponyo is everything a children's movie should be: chock full of magic, whimsy and beautiful visual imagery.

La Glaneuse

I had the pleasure of seeing Agnès Varda's new film last week, an autobiographical documentary titled Les Plages d'Agnès (The Beaches of Agnès). You should definitely see it if you have the chance.
I'm a pretty big fan of Varda's, thanks to a film professor from my year abroad in Paris. He loved loved loved Varda, and showed us not only her classics like Sans toit ni loi (Vagabond) and Les glaneurs et la glaneuse (The Gleaners and I) but also some of her newer and lesser-known short films, like Cinévardaphoto. He was a great film professor-- he wore jeans with patches of cameras and film reels sewn on them, and assigned us movies around Paris to go see as homework. The best assignment of all was to visit a gallery that was currently exhibiting some of Varda's video work, including two pieces featured in her latest film. I can't find the names of the pieces, but one was about potatoes (will make you laugh) and one was about widows (will make you cry). It was an especially fun outing because best friend Marina was visiting me at the time, and she tagged along to the exhibition. While we were there, Varda herself showed up. Apparently she likes to periodically check in on her work, and mingle with the visitors. She was just as wonderfully quirky and friendly in person as she seems on film, and took the time to explain some of her work to us. I have a vivid memory of listening to her speak and glancing over at Marina, who was nodding emphatically even though she couldn't understand anything that Varda was saying in French. At times, The Beaches of Agnès has the same effect. You probably won't catch every inside joke and reference, but Varda is able to present each moment in a manner that is emotional, captivating and a little bit magical. The opportunity to meet her means more to me than the time I got to meet Michael Jackson. But that's a blog post for another time...

Unaccompanied Minors

Since recently writing about film adaptations of children's books, I remembered another horrendous example that is worthy of sharing: Unaccompanied Minors. You may not even recall the 2006 film, which, despite being directed by Freaks and Geeks director Paul Feig, totally bombed at the box office. Even after watching only the trailer, it's no surprise why.

It's based on a lovely essay by Susan Burton, which I discovered thanks to NPR's This American Life. The basic premise of the story is that a 15 year old Burton and her younger sister are stranded in an airport, where they meet a slew of other unaccompanied minors (or UMs) in the same situation. Her story is particularly poignant in that it takes place the day after Christmas. All the other UMs, like Burton and her sister, had been traveling from one divorced parent's house to the other. They form a unique and sort of melancholy camaraderie. It's worthy of a read.

As a former UM myself, I'm particularly fond of Burton's essay (and similarly not fond of the idiotic film version). For a couple of years, my brother and I traveled back and forth between parents on a monthly basis. Once, because of a bomb scare at LAX, our plane had to land in the International section of the airport, rather than the familiar Southwest gate A8. I was about 13, Nat was about 9. I guess we assumed our dad would have been notified of the change in pick-up location, but after about an hour of waiting at baggage claim with no sign of him, I approached an employee. We waited with a couple of other UMs until another employee arrived and loaded us and our bags into a mini-van. He drove us to another waiting area-- on the tarmac! It was the best behind the scenes tour of an airport ever, we got to see the action up close as we swerved under plane wings and past luggage carts. I think he took an extra long route because all of us in the van were oohing and aahing so excitedly. We were dropped off at the Southwest employee break room, where another gaggle of UMs was already waiting. Everyone was sprawled on worn out couches and watching the news about the bomb scare, the Southwest employees laughing when they recognized familiar faces of their coworkers. As if the car ride hadn't been enough fun, next we were delivered a huge box of dinner. It was McDonalds. Free fries and cheeseburgers! What?!

About three hours into the whole ordeal, my dad finally showed up, looking totally panicked. It never occured to me to be worried, I knew that eventually someone would point my him in the right direction and he would find us, and we had actually been having a great time.

Is it too much to ask that a children's film capture a little of that sort of magic?

Nostalgia Crush: Lindsay Lohan Circa 2004

The second installment of Celebrity Crush Album, by my awesome guest blogger, Maggie.

I know much has been written about her partying and her leggings and her dysfunctional family, but if you'll humor me, I'd like to go back to a simpler time and relish in the wonder that was 2004-era Lindsay Lohan.

My crush developed sometime between "Freaky Friday" and "Mean Girls." Here was a girl who was really beautiful, but not traditionally so: first off, she was a ginger kid, and second, she had a really awesome body that didn't fit the Hollywood waif model. She had a raspy voice and a great pop song called "Ultimate" that I played in my dorm room as wake-up music. To my former roommate, Aebra: I am so so sorry. (Aha's "Take On Me" was also in heavy rotation).

As with all my celebrity crushes, it was important that I head to the internet as soon as humanly possible. It became clear that Lindsay was not the sharpest tool in the shed when I checked out her website, "LL Rocks." She made up for infrequent updates by filling her entries with exclamation points and hearts and "LOL"s. It's like her parents didn't let her use emoticons at home, so she needed an outlet for winking faces. I was hoping to link to the site, but in the last month it's been refurbished as "Lohan House" which is less pink and more terrifying. Head over there at your own risk.

Anyway, five glorious years ago, any doubts caused by her blog were swept away when "Mean Girls" rolled around. Somehow, despite everything, Lindsay Lohan is an extremely talented actor. Give her some good material and she's golden. "Mean Girls" played up all of Lohan's strengths, showcased her beauty, and is a total comedy classic, thanks to great performances and Tina Fey's writing. So I leave you with a clip that is pretty funny, but also sort of hot. I hope this brought you back to happier times and that you're not too Lindsay-ed out. I'm also sorry I laughed at you that time you got diarrhea at Barnes & Noble.

Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs Looks Like This!

I finally got around to seeing Up yesterday and, not surprisingly, loved it. I did not, however, love the horrendous trailer for the film adaptation of the children's book Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. I love this book, which is told as a frame tale (a grandfather telling a tall tale to his grand kids over a pancake breakfast) about the town of Chewandswallow, where it inexplicably rains (and snows and hails) food. The simple illustrations are creepy and beautiful. The movie version has changed the plot to involve some sort of obnoxious mad scientist character, and features flashy-- and ultimately pointless-- 3D effects.

Now I understand that a successful adaptation is a tricky task, but I'm saddened that so many wonderful children's books are being reduced to superficial, simplistic blockbuster hits. Case in point, the upcoming Ramona movie. If the success of Up proves anything, it's that kids can handle a complex and nuanced story, and there's no need to overstimulate them with things like talking guinea pigs. For this reason, I really appreciate and respect Spike Jonze's work on his adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are, and while I'm sure there will be aspects of the film that I'm not 100% crazy about (we all have our own imagined ideas surrounding that book, so it can be tough to see someone else's), there is real thoughtfulness and tenderness in his approach. I've especially enjoyed following his blog, "We Love You So."

So the moral of this mini-rant is the following: if you have children, will someday have children, or even just know some children, go and buy them this book immediately, before their imagination is co-opted by Sony Pictures. The movie ticket will cost you $15, you can get the book for $2.10.

Reappropriate This 2.0

I'm well over 100 posts in now at good ol' Reappropriate This, and I figured it was time to spice things up (in case my small but true band of readers were tiring of hearing mostly about Sprout). Luckily, my pal Maggie was ready and willing to step in as a guest blogger and provide us with an exciting new monthly (or as long as we stay organized) feature: Celebrity Crush Album. Enjoy her first entry, "My Faux-Bollywood Crush."

[A quick introduction: On March 10th, 2008, I was visiting my parents in the 'burbs and bored out of my gourd. So I sat on our couch and created a Celebrity Crush Album on Facebook, filled to the brim with unrequited love. Some picks were predictable, some were quirky, and I didn't expect too many people to care. However, a fair amount of friends and acquaintances got a kick out of it. Soon the album was filled with their comments, which ranged from agreeable ("stunningly handsome") to oppositional ("I think she's weird-lookin'"). I am honored to have a monthly guest posting on Reappropriate This! My imaginary love life is your reading pleasure.]

A recent celebrity crush of mine is Dev Patel, star of the film Slumdog Millionaire. This comes as a surprise even to me, because I did not like Slumdog Millionaire. I saw it with my mother, who laughed and cried and gasped throughout the whole thing, and generally made me feel as though I have a heart of stone. "Pricelessly original," said the reviews."A buoyant hymn to life!" Even after it won Best Picture I kept my opinion to myself, mostly because I want people to think I have a soul.


But in spite of everything, I have to say I was completely won over by Dev Patel, who played Jamal Malik. This character's got a heart of gold. He is a true mensch (you don't have to be Jewish!) and there's something really attractive about that. Call it Michael Bluth Syndrome or Kevin Arnold Condition but sometimes nice guys finish first in my book. Especially if they're cute in a non-traditional way. Director Danny Boyle chose Patel for this very reason, saying "I wanted a guy who didn't look like a potential hero; I wanted him to earn that in the film."

It also doesn't hurt that he can dance up a storm. My favorite part of the movie was the end credits, which included awesome choreography, music, and titles/graphics. I've probably watched that dance sequence fifteen million times on YouTube. So, due to your character's gumption, your genuine acting talent, your dancing skills, and your hipster physique: Dev Patel, you are my Celebrity Crush of the Month. Congratulations!

The Week in Review

I have been 25 for a week now, and what a week it has been.

Friday

Meredith (who had surprised me the day before by taking an earlier flight than expected) and I journeyed to Beacon, NY where we visited Dia:Beacon, explored Main Street, and ate at Homespun Foods.

Saturday

I met up with pals for a delicious brunch at DuMont. It was a great first day of spring; I had made little seed packet party favors, and was given tulips by both Meng & Kashmira. After eggs benedict, a handful of us went to PS 1. The best thing thing there was Leandro Erlich's swimming pool. Afterward we headed back to Brooklyn for a neighborhood promenade. We eventually ended up at our old haunt, Brooklyn Ale House, where sadly, the free bagel brunch was not happening. But there were plenty of peanuts.

Sunday

The day began with brunch, my favorite meal, at Enid's, followed by a routine stop-in at Spoonbill & Sugartown and Catbird. On the way home, we decided to brave the moody proprietor of Cheeks to pick up a dozen cupcakes. Later that evening we met up with the old museum gang for bowling (and the aforementioned cupcakes) at The Gutter. Even though I lost, I bowled a strike for the last two frames, so that was pretty sweet.

Monday

We met up for brunch with a couple of Meredith's pals at Clinton Street Baking Company. We shoe-shopped unsuccessfully. We had a Sprout photo shoot.

Tuesday
We went to hear Heather Armstrong (aka dooce) read from her new book at B&N and dreamt of one day being Internet moguls, too. Then we saw Sunshine Cleaning at the Landmark Sunshine.

Wednesday
Double trouble. We met Megha for delicious food in Prospect Heights: Mexican at at Chavella's and ice cream at Blue Marble. I think my dreams came true when I saw they offered banana chip. Then we headed to trivia night at Pete's Candy Store with Meredith's pal, Katie. We placed 7th (out of about 16, not too shabby) and learned what a philtrum is.

Thursday

Dinner at Westville East, where we enjoyed brussell sprouts, beets, artichoke hearts, plantains, and many more vegetable delights.

Friday
Today we had brunch at Shopsin's with James. They have macaroni and cheese pancakes, and they're delicious. After we checked out Economy Candy, we walked up to Union Square to catch a matinee showing of A Haunting in Connecticut. The theater was full of rowdy high schoolers, but the ectoplasm was cool. Now we're about to head up up uptown for a sleep over at Stiggy's. Fun fun fun.

The Great American Jackalope

The newsfeed on my Internet browser links me to the BBC news, and I never bothered changing it, mostly because I like their "Day in Pictures" feature. A few days ago, a story by someone dubbed "The Ethical Man" caught my eye. Apparently this British guy is traveling across America as part of a mission to stop global warming. I'm not really sure how that works because in my mind, Americans are some of the most wasteful and therefore environmentally unfriendly people, but whatever. Any way, this particular article was titled "Jackalope Hunting on the Great Frontier." I clicked on it suspecting some sort of whimsical tale, but unless The Ethical Man is employing a form of dry British humor that is completely lost on me, he seems totally serious about finding a jackalope.

I had always assumed that everyone knew jackalopes weren't real. That was until one day while hanging out with my friend Aisling that we got to talking about animals. When Aisling was asked what her favorite was, she immediately responded, "the jackalope!" to which I replied, "no, your favorite real animal." Months later she admitted that in that moment, all her jackalope dreams had been crushed-- she had thought they were real.

I thought I best Wik up jackalopes, in case The Ethical Man and Aisling were both right, and it was actually me who had been missing out on all the jackalope fun. But it turns out that jackalopes--real or imaginary-- are not fun at all. For starters, the best guess of where the whole jackalope folklore began is that there is a virus rabbits get that causes horn-like protrusions to grow from their heads. Gross. That disgusting affliction has inspired tall tales of an equally disgusting creature, for apparently jackalopes can imitate the sound of a human voice, only breed during electric storms, and produce milk that cures human ailments (but you have to sneak up on them and milk them while they're sleeping).

As for me, I prefer to imagine jackalopes as portrayed in this Pixar short, thank you very much.

A Smattering of Vacation Delights

School's out here in the city of dreams, which means that all three of my regular jobs weren't happening, and instead, I spent the week with Ms. Emma. We had a grand old time. Here are some of the things that happened:

We went to one of the Met's family programs, which turned out to be about Greco-Roman art. Coincidentally, we had spent the previous afternoon sketching gods and goddesses from her D'Aulaires book, so she was well prepared and eager to answer questions. When the educator mentioned the riddle of the Sphinx, Emma knew both the question (what walks on four feet in the morning, two feet in the afternoon, and three feet at night?) and the answer (a human).

We had planned to go to the Central Park Zoo in hopes of catching a sea lion feeding, but abandoned our plan while waiting for the bus because it was much too cold and windy. Instead, we headed for an old standby-- Museum of the Moving Image. I ran into lots of old pals, Emma and her brother made some awesome stop-motion animation, and we all watched Wallace & Gromit: The Wrong Trousers.

We played with Sprout. She and Emma got along famously. Emma pet her and brushed her and whispered, "Hello my name is Emma, I'm not sure what I smell like to you..." They ran with each other up and down the block, which had the benefit of tiring them both out. Sprout inspired Emma to start a dog spa, and she already came up with the first treatment, "Shih Tzu Shiatsu."

We had a playdate with a lovely child, who unfortunately came as a package deal with her insufferable mother. This lady shared with me her unsolicited thoughts on race ("If my child dated a black man, I wouldn't mind if he was like Obama"), pop culture ("Britney Spears is an example of what happens when you give white trash money"), Perego versus Maclaren strollers & iPhones versus Blackberrys (both an excuse to mention the dollar amounts she paid) and my personal favorite, foreign policy ("I know you're not supposed to support genocide, but I'm this close to saying-- just blow the Middle East up!" and "We can't negiotiate with terroists, because they want everyone to be like them... and I don't want to wear a burka"). Needless to say, it was difficult and upsetting to be around this pathetic lady, but I took a cue from Emma, who earlier that day had proclaimed, "patience is my best virtue."

Dawn-Zer Lee Light

My first journal was a Ramona Quimby journal. It had questions for you to fill out about yourself, and about yourself in relation to Ramona. If you don't know who Ramona is, it's probably because you're not a twenty-something girl. This was proven this past Halloween when I dressed up as Ramona, and was greeted with warm, welcome smiles from the ladies present, and looks of bewilderment from the gents. Any way, the entries in my Ramona journal went something like this:
Who is your favorite character? Ramona
Which character are you most like? Ramona
Which character would you like to be? Ramona

Needless to say, she is very near and dear to my heart, and naturally I was devastated when Maggie alerted me to this news. Devastated.

Nine Ladies Dancing

Best dance movie ever? Probably.

From Center Stage

Eight Maids A-Milkin'

Unfortunately, Hamilton & Meg Swan (aka, personal heroes of Marina's and mine) have no interest in the maids and their milkin'. Because of the lactose.

From Christopher Guest's Best in Show

Six Geese A-Layin'

This is the final scene from Fly Away Home, a wonderful children's movie I watched over & over again from the (appropriate) age of 13 until, well, the end of college when I finally got rid of my VCR.

Eternal Daughters of Chaos

"I am committed to making personal film, to presenting personal memories and experiences. The flowers, horses, roof and sky are all images for me of adolescence and my home and mother and my life then... My filmmaking is premised on the assumption that all I can do is present what I have discovered through the filmmaking process. The raw materials come from my life."
-- Marjorie Keller

Haven't heard of her? Stay tuned...

My Thanksgiving Offering

From our own little brunette outcast...