Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts

Friday, January 21, 2011

Three Things, After a Long Absence

Can I see some ID?

I bought a pack of cigarettes for my sister a few weeks ago. The girl at the checkout counter, who was just a girl, likely still in her teens, looked at me sideways for a bit longer than is normal for that kind of transaction, so at looked at her back, waiting. She finally scanned the pack and said, “I almost carded you there….” Somewhat flattered and somewhat shocked, I said, in my attempt at charm, “Well, you got it right. It’s been a pretty long time since I was too young to buy cigarettes.” And she quickly replied, as if to immediately shoot down any confusion, “Oh, yeah [clearly meaning: obviously]. But we’re supposed to card anyone who looks under 40.” No longer flattered, and somewhat crushed, I said, “Oh,” looked away, and started to pretend something else had caught my attention as she finished ringing me up.

God damn you, father time.

Carver and Zoë

My immediate family came to visit this weekend. That includes my grandniece Zoë. Zoë and Carver love each other. It’s interesting, as a parent, to see. Carver thinks Zoë could walk on water. If she likes something, he’s almost set on liking it himself. When he sees her, he lights up. And it is just obvious to someone who has spent a huge amount of time around Carver that he thinks about her in a different way than he thinks about anyone else.

I’m not trying to say something ridiculous, like they are bound to get married, or something. First of all, they are first cousins once removed. Second, Carver is two and Zoë is six, they don’t think that way yet and we don’t think about them in that way. And when it comes right down to it, Carver would miss either of his parents more than he’d miss Zoë, but the friendship is special. There’s something about how kids relate to other kids that adults, no matter how fun and cool, just cannot match. And that’s better than fine.

The Road

Anne and I just finished watching The Road. Here are some of my thoughts:

(1) It was a pretty faithful adaptation of the book. With a few minor issues, some of which could be considered major depending on your viewpoint.

(2) Viggo Mortensen is a badass. He is the epitome of hardcore when it comes to acting. I love that dude.

(3) Anne thinks she’d take the route the mother did [SPOILER ALERT], which is to kill herself after the point when things get really bad. I like to think I’d stick it out and follow “the road,” clinging to hope. But who knows what one would do if things got really, really bad.

(4) Anne says she wouldn’t eat our dog. I say, you know, if you’re starving…

(5) Anne and I listened to the audio book of The Road when we took a road trip to South Carolina when Carver was a month old. During the movie Anne and I had a quick conversation about how the story is harder to bear now than it was then, because we have a child. We had a child then, but it was different. I figured that then the reality hadn’t really set in, and/or that it’s harder now because Carver is more of a person, with his own personality, than he was then. Either way it is true, and tells me something about love.

I love my son more than anything. Not to be flip, or silly, or spout some sort of cliché, or whatever, but I didn’t know what love could mean until Carver came along. I love my wife, and my family and dear friends, and have loved past girlfriends, and (particularly with my wife and past girlfriends) at various times I’ve felt I’ve loved them so much that I’d die if something ruined that relationship. But seriously it doesn’t even compare to how I feel about Carver. While it’s hard to think about and accept, I think if anyone I cared about other than my son died I’d be very, very upset, but I think I’d recover eventually. I’ve suffered that kind of loss before, and it’s awful but I can take it. But if something happened to Carver…I seriously, from a very informed perspective, cannot even imagine being able to go on.

And all of this informs my reading/listening/viewing of The Road. And let’s just say that the story is hard to take.

Also: I don’t think I ever fully appreciated what my parents felt about my sisters and me. When I think about how they probably think (or at least thought) about me the way I think about Carver, it makes me wish I were much, much nicer to them.

(6) The story also, I’m somewhat ashamed to admit, makes me think that maybe those survivalist crazies aren’t so crazy. Of course I don’t mean those who think our government is out to get us, or those in the town I grew up in who thought they needed to arm themselves to the teeth during the LA riots because all the brown people from the city were going to storm our fair (literally, in one respect) enclave of privileged racists. But if something horrible happens and you want to protect those that mean more to you than everything else in the world, how frustrating would it be to not have an extra $10 in ammunition when you’re left with two bullets in your revolver?

Friday, August 13, 2010

Reading, Watching, Listening, Et Cetera: July 2010

I was checking out the website of this guy I kind of know. It was very nice, part weblog, part other stuff. Anyway, one of the things he had on his site was annual lists that contained every book he read, movie he watched, etc, over the course of that particular year. I thought it was cool. I want to try to do something similar and figure the best way to do it will be to create monthly lists so I remember to stay on top of things.

Books I Finished

2666, by Roberto Bolano.

Girl with Curious Hair, by David Foster Wallace

Books I’m Currently Reading

Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself: A Road Trip with David Foster Wallace, by David Lipsky.

Ulysses, by James Joyce.

Suttree, by Cormac McCarthy.

Manhood For Amateurs, by Michael Cabon.

The Art of Fiction, by John Gardner.

Portraits and Observations: The Essays of Truman Capote.

Books I’ve Purchased or Otherwise Received

Under the Volcano, by Malcolm Lowry.

Ulysses Annotated, by Don Gifford.

Movies Watched

Predators (theater)

Inception (theater)

Visoneers (home)

Fargo (home, previously seen)

Avant-Garde: Experimental Cinema: 1928-1954: Vol. 2 (home)

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (home)

Twilight (home)

New Moon (home)

Stephen King’s It (home, previously seen)

Music

No shows or new albums, sadly.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Bad Lieutenant, Forgiveness, and Victims' Rights

Abel Ferrara’s 1992 film Bad Lieutenant has been on my “movies to see list” since it came out. I really like Harvey Keitel, who stars in it, and I was also intrigued by the NC-17 rating (earned mostly for graphic drug use—the nudity, sex scenes, and violent rape of a nun probably didn’t help). A NC-17 rating attached to an artsy independent flick is always intriguing to me. I finally saw it last week.

It was pretty good, that’s all I’ll say about that. I’m not much of a critic in that way. [n.1] But I want to write about one particular part of the movie that got me all riled up.

- - SPOILER ALERT - -
(I can’t write about this without giving away key plot points in the movie, if you want to see it, you probably shouldn’t read this)

The movie is about Harvey Keitel’s character, a very ill behaved cop. He’s investigating the violent rape of a nun committed by two young men (they are referred to as “boys” a few times in the movie but they look like young men to me, maybe they were supposed to be younger but the movie needed more mature actors, I don’t know). The rape is very violent. - GRAPHIC IMAGERY ALERT - They pierce her hymen with a crucifix. And it’s, you know, a nun, which is seriously messed up. So, here’s what gets me. The nun knows who they are and won’t give them up to the cops because she says they are troubled and that she has forgiven them. Keitel says something like, “But they could do it again, we need to stop these guys.” She won’t give them up. Later on, Keitel gets another tip, figures out who the rapists are, and then arrests the guys. But then Keitel takes them to the train station and forces them to leave the city.

So when the nun says she won’t give the rapists up and that she has forgiven them, and it became clear that she’d remain steadfast in her position, I say to Anne (who was half watching the movie, half trying to work): “He should charge her. Bring her in.” We then have this discussion (paraphrased from vague memory):

Anne: “Wait. What?”

Me: “He should charge her. You know, for like interfering with the investigation. What’s that called?”

Anne: “You mean Obstruction of Justice.”

Me: “Yeah. He should totally charge her. Get her to talk.”

Anne: “You’re serious.”

Me: “Yes. Of course.”

Anne: “You think rape victims should be required to cooperate?”

Me: “Yes. Of course.”

Anne: “That’s messed up.”

So, yeah. I think he totally should’ve arrested the nun for refusing to give up her attackers. She made a big deal about having forgiven them, but that isn’t the point. She can forgive them in her heart, she can pray for their souls, she can love them, whatever, but she cannot forgive them for everyone else, for society. She can’t decide that they shouldn’t be arrested and tried before a court. That simply isn’t her decision to make. The strength of my belief on this point would rival that of Atlas’s shoulders. Why is this? I’m not entirely sure. I think it’s probably partly the lawyer in me, insistent that the law should be allowed to work. I think it’s also my somewhat fierce sense of vengeance and retribution—those bastards should not be allowed to get away with it, even if their (primary) victim wants them to. And maybe it’s that my role model for a prosecutor is Jack McCoy, from Law an Order, and Jack McCoy definitely would’ve charged that nun (unless his boss, the politico (before Jack was the politico), was buddies with the Cardinal and made Jack back down, then Jack would’ve just fumed, or something like that). Jack McCoy never hesitated to arrest a sympathetic character to get to the real bad guy—he’d charge a saintly child or a cuddly grandma if they were holding something back. Jack’s a badass.

(Obviously, the cop letting the rapists get away is even more wrong, but it seems too obvious to write about (except I'm sure it was supposed to say something about Keitel's character's nascent transformation.))


Note 1: Every time I think of what I’d say if asked to review something—be it music, a movie, or whatever—I’m reminded of a story Sarah Vowell tells about when she was asked to write a review of a Tom Waits album and the only thing she could think to say, at first, was “I quite like the ballads.” Which of course would’ve left her a thousand or so words short. [n.1a] That’s what would happen to me.

Note 1a: I don’t have a link to cite here, but that’s what I remember her saying.