My husband and I are both fairly big movie buffs. Although he has me beat by a mile. We both love movies, but he has seen WAY more than I have. (With the exception of chick flicks...he avoids that genre as much as possible and when we were dating I promised him that I would never ask him to go to a rom com with me.)
We both love I guess what you would call "old" movies. Classics. His favorite movie is "Casablanca." Mine is "White Christmas." We're both Hitchcock fans; his favorite being "Vertigo." Mine being "Rear Window." We have Bogey, Charlie Chaplin, Bing, Jimmy Stewart, Grace Kelly, Frank Sinatra, Paul Newman, Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant gracing the shelves of our DVD collection. Musicals, Westerns, Dramas...we have several movies from before 1970.
A few weeks ago we both kind of stumbled into the knowledge of the new movie "The Artist" at the same time. Buzz was building around it as the Golden Globes approached. (It has since been nominated for TEN Oscars.) Husby mentioned he wanted to see it. Me too! What would it be like to see this kind of movie on the big screen?
You see, "The Artist" is a silent film. (!) Shot in black in white. (!) In the old aspect ratio you don't see anymore so it's not "long" on the screen...it's square.
We saw it last night. We both loved it. What an experience to see in a theater and watch a movie with no dialogue...just music and the occasional "title" screen, just like they did in silent movies long ago. And at times...complete silence. The movie takes place in the late 20s and early 30s. It's a story about a silent movie actor, at the pinnacle of his fame. The movie follows his career as "talkies" reinvent the movie industry in 1929. As "talkies" grow in popularity, a young rising actress takes Hollywoodland (that's what they called it then) by storm. "The Artist" tells the story of these two actors and how their different paths in the movie industry keep intersecting and crossing.
Reasons I loved this movie:
1. The music is fantastic. Husby's great ear caught musical influences from Hitchcock's "Vertigo." I liked the jazzier swing music. My toe may or may not have been tapping once or twice.
2. The lead actor, Jean Dujardin, reminded me of one of my all-time favorite actors, Gene Kelly. There's even a great dance number in the movie. Dujardin doesn't dance as athletically as Kelly, but really, who does? No one can top Kelly in dancing talent. Ever. (Side note: One of my favorite movies is "Singing in the Rain" which stars Gene Kelly as a silent movie actor, thrown for a loop when "talkies" take over. Coincidence? These movies within a movie...quite an interesting way to tell a story.)
3. The costumes. Oh my. The 1920s had it going on in the fashion department. A fashion feast for the eyes. The flapper dresses, the suits, the hats, the shoes. All so great. Especially the hats.
4. The lead actress, Berenice Bejo is as adorable as they come. Charming as charming can be.
5. The most adorable little dog has a great role and provides a lot of comedic laughs. He pretty much has the 3rd biggest part in the movie.
6. Great casting. John Goodman plays a darn good cigar chomping, "tough guy" exterior, director.
7. It's amazing what can be conveyed without words. Just though facial expressions, body language, music and movement.
If you like old movies, get to this movie as soon as you can. It was the best movie I've seen so far this year. And yes, granted, it's the ONLY movie I've seen so far this year so there's no competition, but it will be interesting to see how far into 2012 I get before I see a movie I enjoy more. We have approximately 347* movies in our house...this will be one more added when it's available on DVD.
Here's a link to the trailer.
http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi3105725977/
*Disclaimer: I don't know the exact number of movies we have. But it's a lot.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Dipping my toes into the world wide web
I wrote my first fictional short story sitting at a table in my parents' basement when I was nine-year-old. It was about a girl and her younger sister going trick or treating. Even back then I knew I should be writing what I know about. So, it was about candy.
By the time I was in sixth grade, I was writing stories on my bus ride home from school almost every day. I loved it. It was my favorite thing to do. My sixth grade teacher fueled my imagination and desire to tell stories with her encouragement. Mrs. Wolf was a huge influence in my love of fiction.
In Junior High, my story writing hit new geeky heights. We had a creative writing unit in our English class. For every one writing assignment, I handed in two and told Mrs. Hanson to just pick the best one and grade it. I even asked if I could hand in my assignments with a pen name. What. A. Nerd. I think my pen name was Trisha. I was so facinated with the concept of writing and not putting your real identity on your work. I would read my stories out loud to the kids on the bus. Several would gather around as I read, using different voices for different characters and loving it when my narration would result in laughs. One day Mrs. Hanson read a part of one of my stories in front of the whole class. I think I lost two or three buttons from bursting with pride. In junior high you are so unsure of who you are and what is happening to your yo-yoing emotions. Everything is a big drama deal and it seems impossible to be confident in who you are. Writing for me at that time was a sure thing for me. I was good at it. And there wasn't a lot I was good at...my gangley arms attached to my chunky body had a hard time playing volleyball or basketball with any finesse. I was slipping down the ladder when it came to the "smart kids" in class...math proved to be impossible for me. I could occasionally squeak out a few notes on my saxaphone to resemble some sort of tune. But writing. Writing I was good at. It gave me hope. It gave me focus. It gave me dreams.
In high school I took on a different kind of writing...journalism. I covered the high school basketball games and was paid $15 for each article by the local weekly paper. I was rich, I tell ya. Rich! Some weeks I would make $45. For doing what I loved!
When I left home to attend college and see what the big, scary, unknown world was all about, I majored in print journalism. After two years, I was convinced I did not have what it takes to be a journalist. I was not brave enough, curious enough, passionate enough to go out and seek the facts and get the story. I wanted to make up the facts...I wanted to write fiction! I eventually transferred schools and ended up majoring in Creative Writing, where, for the first time ever, I pulled straight As.
Since college, I haven't done much writing. Life happened. Full time jobs, saddled with part time jobs, ministry opportunities, and growing circles of friends happened. But the writing bug has been nipping away at me for quite some time. A blog seems like a natural fit, where I can write in short bursts. About what...I still don't know.
Maybe this blog will be like me...it will have a little bit of everything on it. Photos, book reviews, movie reviews, lists of whatever, my thoughts on what God is telling me, ways I'm growing into who He needs me to be. And maybe, sometimes, I'll just write about candy.
By the time I was in sixth grade, I was writing stories on my bus ride home from school almost every day. I loved it. It was my favorite thing to do. My sixth grade teacher fueled my imagination and desire to tell stories with her encouragement. Mrs. Wolf was a huge influence in my love of fiction.
In Junior High, my story writing hit new geeky heights. We had a creative writing unit in our English class. For every one writing assignment, I handed in two and told Mrs. Hanson to just pick the best one and grade it. I even asked if I could hand in my assignments with a pen name. What. A. Nerd. I think my pen name was Trisha. I was so facinated with the concept of writing and not putting your real identity on your work. I would read my stories out loud to the kids on the bus. Several would gather around as I read, using different voices for different characters and loving it when my narration would result in laughs. One day Mrs. Hanson read a part of one of my stories in front of the whole class. I think I lost two or three buttons from bursting with pride. In junior high you are so unsure of who you are and what is happening to your yo-yoing emotions. Everything is a big drama deal and it seems impossible to be confident in who you are. Writing for me at that time was a sure thing for me. I was good at it. And there wasn't a lot I was good at...my gangley arms attached to my chunky body had a hard time playing volleyball or basketball with any finesse. I was slipping down the ladder when it came to the "smart kids" in class...math proved to be impossible for me. I could occasionally squeak out a few notes on my saxaphone to resemble some sort of tune. But writing. Writing I was good at. It gave me hope. It gave me focus. It gave me dreams.
In high school I took on a different kind of writing...journalism. I covered the high school basketball games and was paid $15 for each article by the local weekly paper. I was rich, I tell ya. Rich! Some weeks I would make $45. For doing what I loved!
When I left home to attend college and see what the big, scary, unknown world was all about, I majored in print journalism. After two years, I was convinced I did not have what it takes to be a journalist. I was not brave enough, curious enough, passionate enough to go out and seek the facts and get the story. I wanted to make up the facts...I wanted to write fiction! I eventually transferred schools and ended up majoring in Creative Writing, where, for the first time ever, I pulled straight As.
Since college, I haven't done much writing. Life happened. Full time jobs, saddled with part time jobs, ministry opportunities, and growing circles of friends happened. But the writing bug has been nipping away at me for quite some time. A blog seems like a natural fit, where I can write in short bursts. About what...I still don't know.
Maybe this blog will be like me...it will have a little bit of everything on it. Photos, book reviews, movie reviews, lists of whatever, my thoughts on what God is telling me, ways I'm growing into who He needs me to be. And maybe, sometimes, I'll just write about candy.
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