This is the second of the three films I was so giddy to see at the Hollywood Theater.  I went solo on Monday night and was thoroughly enthralled by the picture.  Tom Ford got it right, boy did he ever.

An aside before I write further about the film.  I love Tom Ford.  He is smart, sexy, thoughtful, and has a magnificent eye.  He was born in Texas, but was raised in Santa Fe.  Another aside, here.  Santa Fe is the capital of New Mexico, which is one of the fifty states of the U.S. of A, not part of Mexico.  I say this because my Mom, knowing of our fondness for the Land of Enchantment (see posts I, II, III), bought us a subscription to New Mexico magazine.  On the last page of every issue are stories relating how people mistakenly believe New Mexico is not part of the United States and deny citizens and visitors of that fine state insurance coverage and package delivery, among other things, because these services aren’t provided “outside of the country.”  Talk about shock and awe!  Don’t we learn the fifty states in elementary school?  How about taking a glance at a map?  Come on people – get with program.  It’s really not that difficult.   Getting off my soapbox and back to Mr. Ford.  Anyone with his combination of  provenance, fine looks, good humor, and talent  rates pretty highly in my book.

As for the story, it follows George Falconer, played by the dapper and oh so right Colin Firth (those glasses!), as he moves through what he plans to be his final day on earth.  Rocked to the core by the loss of his partner of sixteen years eight months previously, George is unable to cope with life.  The void left with the loss of Jim is insurmountable, rendering the world dull and lifeless.

Ironically, it is his decision to take his own life that brings color back into his world.  George’s senses are heightened, taking in details for what may be the very last time.  The eyes of strangers and colleagues at the college where he teaches, the scent of a woman, the color of her lips, the musculature of a tennis player, the brilliant pink of the sky at dusk.  It is all quite beautiful and new to him.

Then there are the memories of Jim, the harshness of a world unaccepting of gay men, and the desire to connect, with truth and honesty, to another human being.  Lovely.

We watch a lot of movies Under a Red Roof.  Though I think you probably know that.  This holiday season was no exception, save it may have been slightly more exceptional in volume.  Golly, did we spend a lot of time in front of the telly (in my defense, I did a lot of reading, too!).  Here are my favorites, in no particular order.

This is a real gem.  Peter, a young man nearly finished with med school, learns he will not be getting the residency he hoped for after a serious blunder with a fake patient.  Depressed, he goes to a bar to see said “patient.”  She is his polar opposite, and he is swept away by her, quite literally, hours away from home, to hers.  It is a world of counterculture pot smokers and growers, kooky and angry, living as close to the land as possible.  From here, we see the interplay between these very different worlds, learning the benefits and deficits of each.

I loved it.  As is expected from the BBC, it is light and funny (loud peals of laughter caused the hubster wonder what was afoot in the tv room), sometimes sad, and very engaging.  The cast, costumes, and sets are top notch, too.

I was surprised by this one, fearing the worst for some reason.  It is an alluring tale of first love (and poetry), the tragedy of loss, and our varying and sometimes highly unusual ways of coping.  Australian and beautifully filmed, I might add.

This one is a bit wacky and sometimes gross, really gross, while being totally engrossing (I couldn’t resist).  A famous DJ suddenly loses his hearing and copes in solitude by taking copious amounts of drugs, eschewing them all together, and learning to feel the music instead.

“I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!”  That line is all I knew of this rather eerily prescient film about editorial news programs.  I really liked it, even though some of the dialogue was very dated.  1976!

The hubster and I saw this waay back when we were dating, having turned on the television thirty minutes into it, wondering what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks was going on, and laughing all the while at Albert Brooks and Rip Torn.  Meryl Streep is delightful and carefree as Julia, a character who likes to eat.  This reminds me of someone else…

Katharine Hepburn received an Oscar nomination for her role as Jane Hudson in this lovely film from 1955.  A lonely woman, she’s on holiday in Venice, looking for beauty, adventure, and companionship.  She finds it, though not quite as she expected.  It is a sweet and sad story, filled with great fashion and fantastic sights.

Being a revolutionary is about patience and education, even for those watching (it is nearly five hours long).  Everything happens in good time.  Follow Che through his first victory in Cuba and his final defeat in Bolivia.   I rather liked it, but for such a fascinating character, I would have preferred seeing his whole life.  There was time enough, I think.

Harbour and his perpetually suicidal brother Wilbur’s lives are changed for the better when Alice and her daughter Mary enter their disorderly book shop.   This one is sweet and sad, too, with a couple of surprising plot twists.  An aside, a dialogue representing the shorthand of sixteen years of married life:

Hubster:  Who is that (Alice)?

Me: She’s the one with the ronnie (female moustache) from that Irish film (Intermission).

Hubster: Right!

I was certain the bright red Netflix envelope contained the final DVD of season two of Mad Men, so when I saw this film instead, I found myself a bit miffed.  Thankfully, I am rather pleased to say that I got over my pout in a jiffy.  This is one terrific movie!

Ralph, in many ways,  is a typical teenager.  He is a bit of an outcast, save his one friend Chester, frequently the butt of jokes and ill treatment by the boys at school, is mystified by girls, and despite knowing that he is committing a sin (venal or mortal?) he cannot help indulge in pleasures of the flesh (gulp!).  When his mother, suffering from a serious mystery illness, falls into a coma, Ralph finds himself at a crossroads. Not wanting to become an orphan (his father died in the war – presumably Korea, as it is 1954), Ralph is in dire need of a miracle.

After hearing a lecture on saints and miracles in religion class, Ralph decides he will perform one himself  and save his mother’s life by winning the Boston Marathon, despite the fact that he’s only just started to run (as punishment for a multitude of sins).  What ensues is a touching and, at times, hilarious account of his path to Boston.  A great story, full of wit, warmth, and humor – really quite fulfilling.  Five stars!

“We’re not gonna be clones of the commercial hip-hop world because that’s been seen for so many years.  Somebody’s waitin’ on something different,  another generation of kids with morals and values.  They won’t need what’s being commercialized or tailor-made for them…custom-made, because I feel that we’re custom-made.  And we’re of more value than any piece of jewelry or any car or any big house that anybody could buy.”   Though the quotation is from Tiger Eyez, all of the young people in this moving and fascinating documentary film from David LaChapelle represent his beliefs.  These are young people literally dancing for change in a place filled with violence, irreverence, and complacency.  The place they call home.

That fact really rung out for me.  Home.  Though we never had much money growing up, we always had enough.  We also lived in a neighborhood that was mostly free of violence and crime, as well.  I can only imagine what it would be like to have home be a place where I worry about getting enough (of anything) or that I am mistaken for another person and shot dead on a street corner.  What would I do?

For the people in the film, they act out their frustrations through Krumping (Kingdom Radically Uplifted Mighty Praise) or Clowning.  It is dance, freestyle moves of exuberance and exaggeration, pumping and popping with incredible skill and speed (I don’t think I’ve ever seen bodies move so fast!).  It is not only a vehicle to escape gang life, but a meaningful way to express, via often harsh hyper kinetic movements, their anger with the world.

It is a wonderful film about the ways we can choose to uplift, not only ourselves, but the those around us via positive beliefs and actions, with dance as the dazzling centerpiece.