• Meta

  • November 2019
    M T W T F S S
    « Jan    
     123
    45678910
    11121314151617
    18192021222324
    252627282930  
  • Categories

  • Archives

The Inescapable Past

Among the things I love about living in DC is that one Friday you can go see a movie for $10 and be part of an international film festival. In this case, I attended a showing of Es kommt ein Tag (The Day Will Come), as part of Filmfest DC, Washington’s International Film Festival. The movie, released in Germany in 2008, was written and directed by Susanne Schneider, who as it turned out was at the screening for a Q&A after the film. Yet another thing to love about art events – sometimes you get to interact with the artists involved.

To quiet my nit-picky side, I feel compelled to mention that the title really translates as: A Day Will Come, with the overtone of a warning…a day will come when the past will confront you. Continue reading

Two Quick Takes

In an attempt to bring movement into my somewhat stagnant Netflix queue, I watched two movies in quick succession last week. Two consecutive movie week nights, two entirely opposed movies.

Tuesday: The Descent – first off, what a nice change of pace to have a horror movie where the women’s role is not simply to wear revealing clothing, and ever less of that, and to be either killed off as a morality demonstration (sex kills, kids) or rescued by the boyfriend. Six people, who happen to be women, go for an adventure in cave climbing and show themselves to be courageous, duplicitous, resourceful, reckless, smart, scared, noble and, at times, savage. In short, human. Frankly, I was plenty riveted by the cave drama (tight tunnels, darkness, no sure way out – hello claustrophobia) and could have done without the flesh-eating cave dwellers (external monsters where there were already plenty of internal monsters for our characters). You want tension? This movie delivers. Plus, some beautiful shots, especially one towards the end. Continue reading

Murakami Moment

Last weekend, exhausted from a rare burst of outlet mall shopping, we resolved to keep our Netflix queues moving by finally watching Tony Takitani. It’s an odd little film (short too, at 75 minutes) about loneliness and couture, and if I tell you it’s based on a Haruki Murakami story that is really all you need to know. Continue reading

So, Spiderman 3. Meh.

OK, let’s just get this out of the way: Spiderman 3 – meh. If I were writing this directly after seeing the movie on Friday, my reaction might be a lot stronger on the negative side but I’ve had the weekend to read a ton of other comments, reviews and reactions and I am thus bending to the middle. Because I am nothing if not easily swayed in my opinions of things that entertain like books, movies and TV shows. Continue reading

Under My Skin

I had a post all lined up about Friday’s soul-thawing flirt with spring weather, the endless clear blue sky, so high that you could finally stop slouching under winter’s cast-iron 5-foot ceiling and stand up straight with a sigh of relief. The birds heralding the changing season, fat sparrows frolicking in the bare but budding branches, gigantic robins, red breast puffed, hunting grubs or worms or new life. Berries bursting red from under the season-spanning dark greens of bushes that love both winter and spring – all those lovely things you notice on the first day of real sunshine when hope breaks though at last and you feel winter might end (never mind that it almost didn’t really start this time around). Continue reading

Dear Academy

My, how time flies. Although, not so much when you’re watching the Oscars. Every year, I tell myself that it’s really not necessary for me to actually watch the Academy Awards, that the show is boring, too long, not really that important, and half the time they get it wrong anyway. And every year, I find myself staggering bleary-eyed into work on Monday morning after a very late Sunday night spent groaning at the TV. This year, same thing. I am still tired and my eyes are like sandpaper, thanks to the endless, endless show. And my apparent compulsion to watch it, even when I totally disagree with the results and am bored by all those montages and songs. Those songs. Dear John. Continue reading