Movies

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Oh, John Le Carre, you are good, very, very good.  I am terribly sorry that this program doesn’t let me make accent marks, for it is not a lack of caring that your name is unadorned.  You are a stellar writer, and I wish I could give you your due by spelling your name properly.  I should also add that I love making accent marks.  Besides, after twelve years of French, I know when they are necessary.  When to use the plus-que-parfait, well don’t ask.  I was always better at accents, by voice or a pen.

Anyhoo, to dear George Smiley, the ne-plus-ultra (more Francais!) spy of spies, you are the cat’s pajamas.  Another aside here, did you know that this has nothing to do with felines sporting flannel?  Rather, it was in reference to a tailor in the 1700s, named Katz who made the finest clothes in the land.  Fancy that!  As for George in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, after being forced into early retirement, he is called back into service on an uber top secret mission to discover the identity of a very high ranking mole in the British service, one planted by his Russian counterpart Karla decades earlier.  In Smiley’s People, George is called reluctantly into service, yet again, with the murder of an old friend and a mystery that may lead him straight to his arch nemesis, Karla.  Beat of drums!

Rather unlike the films I associate with spies, even ones I like (Jason Bourne, anyone?), and the reason I hadn’t thought to read the books before, the story is utterly lacking in flash.  There are no violent car chases, spies with super powers, or romantic liaisons among the rock hard ab crowd.  Quite the contrary, they cough from too many cigarettes, have grey hair, paunches, and failing marriages.  Where they do not fail is in their utter brilliance, patience, and attention to detail.  These are the men and women I want on my side in a crisis.  They are extremely dedicated to the service (save one) and work long hours in hardly glamorous conditions to meet that end.

Not to say that the lack of glamor makes the writing any less engaging.  John Le Carre is a fine storyteller, and his characters feel as real as the cat sitting on my lap.  I could not put these books down, using any excuse to sit and read a page or two or thirty.  Highly recommended!

Should you decide to forgo reading the stories, the BBC versions are terrific and available on Netflix, though Smiley’s People is easier to follow than Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (like the book, there are many details, characters, and time shifts – be patient and pay attention).  The hubster and I saw Smiley’s People a couple of years before I decided to read the novels, so even without the benefit of knowing the story, I found it no less exciting or interesting.  As well, it gave me the picture of Alec Guinness as George, for which I am ever so grateful.  Those glasses, that voice!

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Hello friends –

I’ve got a slightly spooky film just in time for Halloween.  I know, so very un-Colleen-like.  I’ll admit, too, that I was a tad worried when the hubster and I started watching this.  It was after dark, and my writer’s mind was darting hither and yon with what might happen, but, quite thankfully, I talked myself out of being frightened, save when called for, and thoroughly enjoyed the show.  I was rather proud of myself, indeed.  No scary dreams, either, double yum!

Anyway, to the film – Michael Farr (Ciaran Hinds) is a slightly lonely and depressed widower, living in a gorgeous home in a small seaside Irish town with his two children.  He also writes a little on the side and helps out at the annual writers festival.  As the festival gets in full swing, he finds himself aware of a frightening, yet familiar, presence in his home, accompanied by thuds in the dark, knocking on doors, and shadows where there shouldn’t be.

Rather serendipitously, one of the authors under his charge (Iben Hjejle) has written about the appearance of spirits and ghosts, and as their relationship grows more friendly, he decides to relate his increasingly disturbing experiences to her.  Unfortunately, he is perpetually interrupted by a rather boorish and hopelessly arrogant writer (Aidan Quinn) whose sole purpose for appearing at the festival is to declare his love for her. Drat!

Beautifully filmed in an utterly gorgeous setting, it is a great tale of loss, mourning, and hope.  There’s also occasion for laughter and fright, of course.  Truth be told, I screamed once – though, in my defense, it wasn’t terribly loud.  The soundtrack is rather fine, as well.

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As someone who nearly always has a song in my head (and in my heart, for that matter), it should come as no surprise that I thoroughly enjoyed this film.  It brings together, for the first time, three rather iconic guitar players (an understatement, to be sure) to play together, discuss their craft, or as Jack White says, “To trick them into sharing what they know.”

The result is a marvelous glimpse into the lives and creative processes of three very skilled musicians.  I loved learning about them as people (of course) and their vastly different ways to approaching the guitar.  Jack is very interested in the raw and bare bones.  The Edge is a tinkerer, with myriad gadgets to make myriad and often surprising variations in sound.  Jimmy, I’d say is the most straight ahead (if that’s the proper term).  What can this guitar do?

There’s also some great history and footage of each in earlier years and previous incarnations and hair cuts.  I found it all rather fascinating, and pretty touching, too.  Each has such reverence for music and sound.   Then there is the story of how each came to play.  Serendipity – a random poster on a school wall, a guitar left behind, another bartered for the use of a pick up truck.  It really makes me wonder if there are no coincidences in life.  Pretty darn cool!

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More Movies

We’ve been rather fortunate to have seen a fine series of movies Under a Red Roof lately.  I love that.  There are few disappointments as severe as a film gone wrong.  No possibility of that today, however, no siree.

First off is Clean.  Maggie Cheung (who won a best actress award at Cannes for her portrayal) plays Emily Wang, bitchy, arrogant, spoiled heroin addict and girlfriend of fading musician Lee Hauser.  They have a child, Jay, who is being raised by his grandparents while they waste their lives driving around in an ugly sedan, playing music when they can, arguing, and, of course, scoring heroin.

Emily’s life is upturned when she and Lee get into yet another argument and she flees the scene to shoot up.  When she returns the following morning, the police surround the shabby hotel.  Lee is dead.  Emily serves time for being the source of the drugs that killed him and exits entirely directionless, save the hope that she will one day get it together so she can reunite with her son.  It is an honest and oftentimes painful look at the slow progress of an addict trying to change, with great music and locations – from the stark beauty of an oil refinery in Canada, to the streets of London and Paris.  As well, and in a pretty surprising role (at least to us), Nick Nolte plays the grandfather – tender, caring, and even keeled.  Well played, one and all.

Quite on the other side of the spectrum is Lost in Austen, a hysterically funny adaptation of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. The story follows Amanda Price, a somewhat hopeless and thoroughly modern romantic who tires of her boorish boyfriend’s ways, preferring to spend her time cozied up with the pages of her favorite novel.  All goes Pete Tong when she finds Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of said novel, coming out of a secret passage in her bathroom.  What ensues is a delightful voyage into the countryside as Amanda tries and fails mightily to keep the novel on course while also coping with the technology (rather lack of) in 19th century England.

It has a stellar cast, some marvelous twists, and, of course, the witty repartee one expects in such an undertaking.  Here too, is a sampling of the lines that kept me in stitches:

Oh, you have standards, pet.  I hope they help you on with your coat when you’re seventy.

There really are ladies who steer the punt from the Cambridge end?

The drawing up of phlegm through the nose is not the action of a lady!

Brava, Miss Price!  And whenever life is gettin’ me down, I shall be sure to go ‘downtown’.  Eh, Darcy?

What is neon?

Okay, I’ve cleaned my teeth with chalk and shaved my legs with some sort of potato peeler.

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Norse

I’ve got two terrific titles for you today, and a little alliteration, which is always fun.  Both are Norwegian and awfully good.

Buddy follows Kristoffer, a young and carefree billboard hanger who chronicles his everyday life via film.  Nothing is kept from the camera – laughter, the heartache of a recent breakup, and crazy behavior receive equal time.  When he and his friend/roommate Geir decide to jump from a third story window into a dumpster at a local news station, the pair are nearly caught, and Kristoffer loses some video tape in the process.  The station actually likes what they see, forgive his and Geir’s trespassing, and offer them a weekly spot on a popular show. They and their third roommate Stig (who hasn’t left their apartment complex for two years) become local celebrities.  The future looks bright for rising star Kristoffer, but problems ensue when his increasing popularity causes his friends and his relationships with them to suffer.  It’s a great story about true friendship – what it really means to be a Buddy.

Hawaii, Oslo follows the paths of several strangers on the hottest day of the year.  Frode and Milla are overcome with grief that their newborn baby might die.  Two young boys search for their mother after the loss of their dad.  Institutionalized Leon has a date made ten years earlier to meet his childhood sweetheart Asa.   Leon’s brother, Trygve has a weekend leave from prison to visit him on his birthday.  At the center, touching all of their lives, is Vidar, a nurse who can see the future in his sleep, or can he?  It’s a great story about the power of dreams and finding what is most meaningful in life.

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