I got to see three moves when I was rockin’ the Tdot. This is fewer than I would have liked, but I suppose there is something to be said for getting "fresh" air, too.
I mentioned in an e-footnote (comment) that I’d seen Walk the Line. It was good, indeed. I do not know Johnny Cash music, and I’m not really running out to get any, either, but I had "Jackson" stuck in my head for the rest of the day (you can ask Marianne – she wanted to deck me). I would recommend this movie if you were already wanting to see it, but I wouldn’t nag and bug too much if you didn’t intend to in the first place. Maybe biopics just aren’t for me. Last year, Ray was good, but I didn’t poop my pants over that one, either. Monster? Pass the prozac. The only one I can think of fondly is Ghandi.
If my internet was hooked up, I’d investigate Cash’s music, but I’m not invested enough to invest. You can download a lot of stupid crap and not be yolked with the lasting physical evidence of your dalliance. For example, I have two (2) songs from "Annie" in my computer but I’d never dream of buying the actual CD.
Back to the aisle:
Next, Marianne, Martin and I saw The Squid and the Whale, a smaller-feeling film about a family that is taking a beating through a particularly nasty divorce. Jeff Daniels is the dad and Laura Linney the mum. There are two sons, one 16 and the other 12ish. The parents both have PhDs in English Lit. He was the writer of the couple, but her recent first attempts at writing have been gloriously received. His new manuscripts are all turned down. The spotlight has shifted. She’s had an affair. He’s manipulative and stoops to manipulating the children. The oldest son takes after the father (uncaring and verbally abusive toward his sweet girlfriend), and the youngest son prefers the company of the mother (oh, and he also prefers humping school furniture and, um… anointing lockers).
I know the whole situation sounds like a real downer, but there are moments of comic relief that come out of real life. I think it’s the smallness of the story that makes it so meaningful. A mundane sad thing, a nasty divorce, is so close, emotional and intimate, that the scale is more palatable. Perhaps that was my problem with Walk the Line; it tried to cram too much life into two hours. There was still a lot of story in The Squid and the Whale, but the scope was smaller.
Finally, we went to see one of The Clooney’s movies, Syriana. I have no idea where to start. This is basically because I have no idea what this movie was about. I think there was a plot, but I lost the thread of understanding in the first 10 minutes. Who was good? Who was allied with whom? Where was money going? Why did they beat up my Clooney? If you want to see this movie, might I suggest reading a synopsis first? Maybe you’re cleverer than I am, but I like it all spelled out for me. Syriana’s no Fellini, but still, I was lost. Different strokes, I guess.
This morning, O Brother, Where Art Thou? was on TV. Jeez, I love that movie. Music, Clooney, the Sirens, a mass baptism, a Cyclops and a muse, a cool sepia/dusty look washed over the whole film… Ahh… it cleansed my confused Clooney palate. I remembered why I loved him. The quirkiness, the smile, the Dapper Dan.