April 2007 Archives

RC has hijacked control of our Netflix queue. Until he did, I was probably their favorite customer, since it took me about six months to watch a movie and another six months to return it. (You might find this surprising, given that I work in film, but I go to the movies a lot, and I also am a big fan of the tivo.)

Since the regime change, however, films are rolling in and out of here like popcorn films in the summer. Blink, and it's gone, whether it has been watched or not. I've even gotten into the game, trading an unwatched "Lost Boys of Sudan" for a fix of "Battlestar Galactica." Oh, Edward James Olmos! How I miss your smoky voice and yearn for season three to be out! (You don't have to tell me what a loser I am; I know.)

Anyway, yesterday's mail brought us the multi-nominated "Babel", directed by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarittu. I had no desire to see it. But I hadn't much wanted to see "Crash" last year, and though I thought it didn't deserve any of the hype it received, I was mildly entertained by it. And I'll give just about any non-horror film a try. So Babel it was.

It was the most tedious film I have seen in years. And that includes "Syriana." Nothing is more condescending then an "eat your spinach" film that is completely not entertaining. Don't get me wrong; the actors all did a lovely job, and the film looks great. The main problem is Inarritu clearly doesn't like any one of his characters; not the smug Americans, hard-living hard-partying Mexicans, or poor Arabs. They are all treated with a sense of distance that is akin to scorn. The only interesting thread was the one regarding deaf-mute Japanese girl. When Inarittu actually tries to connect to one of his characters, it pays off. We see her beauty and feel her pain, but don't feel sorry for her. It would have been great to see a whole movie just about her. But the contrived bit about how the gun that shot the american tourist got to where it did? The second the poor goat farmer took out the picture of himself with the hunter? Well, I had to turn it off. I had better things to do.

"House" was on, and it was really good!

I found myself at a meeting at a publishing company last week, with a lovely young editor. We were chatting about my days at a glossy magazine in the last century, and I said that I loved good grooming as much as anyone. Then I got home, looked in the mirror and thought to myself: "For shame!" Clearly I did not love grooming as much as even Marko, my parents' long haired German Shepard who cries like a shi-tzu when he has to go to the groomer

My hair was scraggly, and my eyebrows were big. My skin was smoothish, and blotchy. My nails looked OK, only slightly chipped from a recent manicure, but, wait, what is that over there... wait...ouch... I think I got it. It was a reminder to me not to mention good grooming when I myself am not well groomed that day.

I am no better groomed today. But I know I am not going to leave the house. Ha!

Just thought I'd share.