Tonight is the series finale of one of my favorite shows of all time, Parks and Recreation. Yesterday, Wired online posted this article by Eric Thurm: Why Parks and Recreation’s Final Season Was its Best Ever
I agree with the article that the 2-years jump executed by the final season was a good decision, creatively, allowing us to skip over both Leslie’s pregnancy and early baby years, and the adjustment period for her National Parks Service job. I also agree “Leslie and Ron” was the strongest episode of the season thusfar. And then we part ways.
The article opines that the season is a winner because it proves that change is happy and inevitable.
That’s what this last season of Parks and Rec has realized—it’s a celebration of beginnings in addition to endings, of the idea that there are always possibilities, even if those end up leading you back to the same people (kind of like a wedding!). … All the show needed to end on a high note was to allow all of its characters the chance to renew their vows.
The show has always embraced change, not just in this last season, but more importantly, the article overlooks a key point: the beginnings and opportunities that have been offered to these characters this season have vaulted the show far past its celebrated idealism, straight into la-la fantasyland. The show, always generous and warm, but also always grounded in a recognizable reality, has turned into the last moments of Grease, when Sandy and Danny’s car just takes off and flies into the air.
One example is the egregious acceleration of relationships. Most of the characters were paired already—Donna married a guy called Joe this season, but the show wisely introduced him last season so that we could assume their courtship unfolded normally during the two-year jump. But… In this Previously.TV writeup, writer Mark Blankenship complains about several developments in the final season (I agree pretty much on every count), taking note of Tom’s whirlwind courtship with Lucy. I like his description of the character having been “airlifted in” to facilitate Tom’s happy ending. This is nearly literally what happened—she was an ex-girlfriend of Tom’s (for a couple episodes in the third season) whom he missed, so this season he tracked her down in Chicago, lured her back to Pawnee with a job at his restaurant, waited for her relationship with her boyfriend in Chicago to fail due to distance, then made his move. Within two episodes they were ENGAGED. I know this show improbably got away with marrying off April and Andy in the same month they became a couple: that worked because of the way they wrote the characters and the way the actors played them. But a show should only get one of those. Tom and Lucy are cute, but this development wasn’t even close to earned. Why couldn’t the show have just let them be happily dating at the end? That’s enough.
Now let’s talk about the characters’ jobs. Careers were always fluid on this show, from Ann being hired as Pawnee’s Director of Public Health, to Chris and Ben pingponging around the City Management infrastructure, to Tom launching his THIRD small business in as many years last season. But this season things have really spiraled out of control.
Craig (played by Billy Eichner, whose dramatic yelling is still funny to me after a couple of seasons) may be the worst example: last season, he got hired as the sommelier for Tom’s restaurant and as far as we’ve seen is still acting in this capacity. He has also apparently succeeded Ron as Director of Pawnee’s Parks and Recreation. And in what I’m sure is ample free time, he acted as Donna’s wedding planner. (Why not create a wedding planner character for the episode? Or bring back one of Pawnee’s million weird townies to do this? It makes literally no sense.)
Or maybe Andy is the worst example. Again at Previously.TV, Tara Ariano wrote about his improbable career path last year, but we have to update that: this year Andy’s built his children’s birthday party performer character Johnny Karate into a public access show that he writes directs/edits/stars in/etc. (and which all of his terribly busy friends, including the City Manager, guest star on because why not); Andy is somehow also a crucial member of Leslie’s National Parks Service team (this despite his being a big dumb dog of a dude).
Or maybe Ben is the worst example! He left his position in the Pawnee government because of his relationship with Leslie. He ran political campaigns for a minute, then he was going to be an accountant, then he was overseeing the charitable donations of a candy company, then suddenly his past scandal didn’t make a difference anymore and he was offered the position of City Manager? Even though he was married to Leslie by that point, making the conflict of interest official and legal? And now he’s running for Congress because that’s not an enormous leap from his current employment, or anything.
Oh, also Jerry just became mayor for no reason.
I could probably handle all this nonsense, but the last straw for me was April and an episode called “Ms. Ludgate-Dwyer Goes to Washington.” In this, what may become my least favorite episode of one of my favorite shows ever (previous un-favorite: Season 3’s “Indianapolis”), almost the entire cast of characters bends over backwards to try and secure a perfect career for the chronically-discontented April. This includes Ben (who, again, should be busier as the City Manager), Andy, and Ron visiting an accounting firm, hearing about a consulting job, pitching April for the job, deflecting when the hiring manager asks what April’s degree is—because whatever she studied is clearly not relevant to the position—and instead insisting that the absent lady will be excellent at the job because she is “brilliant” (debatable) and it sounds perfect (perfect not for her skill set, but simply for her laundry list of job wants).
They are doing this entirely without her input or consent, because she has traveled to Washington D.C. with Leslie. While there, April confesses to Leslie that she doesn’t want to work with her at the Parks Service anymore, so Leslie brings her to a federal department which offers job counseling. April is so inspired by her sitdown with the counselor, she decides that career counseling is her true calling. (The show forgot, apparently, that April once declared that her true passion was animals—that she really wanted to go to veterinary school, until she didn’t want to anymore, and then she was doing fine running Animal Control from inside Pawnee’s Parks & Rec department.) The revelation seems straight out of left field, but that doesn’t even matter so much as the fact that literally as soon as April decides this is the job she wants to do, she gets the opportunity to go ahead and do it.
Maybe this is because I am currently looking for permanent work myself. I finished a degree in December. I’m not unemployed—I work 50 hours a week right now, only at two disposable, part-time jobs. And here’s what I know, in my current state: despite being amply prepared with both degrees and experience, for the job that I want, no version of that job has yet been handed to me. I have sat for some legitimate interviews (which I secured by looking at job offerings on websites, and then applying for them) and not been given the jobs because other candidates turned out to be better for them.
The idea that April decides in her own head that a certain career track within a certain government department is ideal for her—and then, due to apparently nothing more than Leslie’s urging, the department offers her this job—is infuriating to me. Who said they even had an opening? What about her education or her past work makes her qualified to jump into this job now? The federal government doesn’t have unlimited funds to just create a new salary and benefits package for some cranky waif coming in off the street. More practically, how does she know that she can live on the salary that they can offer her (D.C. being one of the most expensive cities in America)? How does she know her husband wants to move to D.C. with her? Didn’t they literally just buy a house in Pawnee? None of this matters.
Here’s the thing: Parks and Recreation is ending. Its finale airs tonight. They want all of the characters to enjoy excellent happy-ending situations and the season has thus worked at a breakneck pace to land everyone where the show wants them to finish up. I love these characters. I should want them to all end by being happy. I just hate that such a smart show is pushing so hard. This isn’t a victory lap. The show is panting as it crosses the finish line.
(I do love this show, though. Maybe later I will write a post about the ten best episodes of the show!)
First post of the new year! An attempt to begin to post regularly again.
A couple weeks ago, I fell asleep with Hulu playing an episode of The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. When an episode is finished playing, Hulu will jump to playing something else its algorithm feels is tangentially related. Checking my history the following morning, I learned of the string of shows that played while I slumbered:
The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon: Amy Adams, Nick Offerman, Foo Fighters
You know when you put something on the TV to sleep to (if you’re like me, and you sleep to a playing television, even though everyone including medical professionals tells you it is the worst idea), and you’re out so quickly you’re like, I don’t remember seeing a SECOND of that. I was especially interested in both Offerman (whose new Netflix special I’ve only half-watched so far) and the Foo Fighters (whose Sonic Highways I’ve seen the majority of at my boyfriend’s house, and it’s excellent). Needless to say, I didn’t make it to any of those men, nor to Amy Adams, nor even to any first-quarter comedy sketches or recurring bits.
The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon: Ben Stiller, Brie Larson, Damon Wayans
The initial jump, to another episode of the same show I willfully chose. Good start. I don’t really care about these guests at all. Brie Larson is a promising actress, but she’s promoting a sexy-student role in The Gambler, which I think is probably beneath her.
Late Night With Seth Meyers: Christoph Waltz, Uzo Aduba, Greg Warren
This is a strange trio of guests. Greg Warren is either the Pittsburgh Steelers’ “long snapper” (REALLY? That’s a position? Is Wikipedia punking me?) or the stand-up comedian. The comedian is a more likely candidate for a late-night guest, though my boyfriend tells me Seth Meyers is a fan of the old black-and-yellow. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because I rarely watch Meyers’s show. Though I have affection for Meyers as a writer and as a personality, the show’s comedy bits rarely land, especially when Fred Armisen is behind them. The only real contribution the show has made to culture so far is Second Chance Theater.
Saturday Night Live: Amy Adams, One Direction
Already watched this when it aired live. It was a strong episode. Mike disappeared for the last 30 minutes, and later asked what he missed. I enjoyed recapping for him the lady singers sketch, ending on, “and then they all turned back into raccoons.” He laughed a lot.
Jimmy Kimmel Live: Mel Brooks, Christine Baranski
That’s a pretty good roster, but I don’t care at all about Kimmel.
The View: Friday, December 19, 2014
Here’s where the first wild turn takes place. I never watch this show. I’ve seen clips here and there and it’s sort of odious. Regardless of who is on the panel at the time, they all talk over each other and terrify their guests with scattered aggression.
Parental Discretion With Stefanie Wilder Taylor, “Breaking Dad”
This is some kind of mom-friendly variety show produced by a division of Nickelodeon called Nickmom (logline: “motherfunny”) (NO). In the capsule pic for this episode, the titular star is wearing pigtails, her mouth hanging open as if the screenshot has caught her in some kind of rant, or possibly just to indicate that she is a vulgar-but-lovable girl in the Sarah Silverman mold. Moms all over deserve better.
GMA Live: Thursday, July 31, 2014
Directly from the Hulu description: “Web-only extension of “Good Morning America” goes backstage after the broadcast. From pop-culture news to trending topics and lifestyle tips, GMA’s all-star team discusses the hottest stories of the day.” They apparently quit doing this, because this July episode is the most recent one listed.
Liars All (2013)
Some random thriller which enjoyed such a limited release that neither Metacritic nor Rotten Tomatoes displays any critical reviews of the film whatsoever. Rotten Tomatoes users felt that it was 21% worth liking.
And then I woke up.
Though my work towards my MLIS degree has been taking its toll on my movie time, I am still working on watching the AFI lists to completion. I actually had to give a presentation last semester—3 minutes on any topic—and I chose to present on the AFI lists and my lengthy quest to dominate them. So now while I am on vacation (my last semester—woohoo!—will start in a week) I have been taking the opportunity to knock off a couple of list movies. My goal is to finish out one of the lists (probably 100 Thrills, which I’m closest to finishing) before the end of 2014.
The Sheik is a silent film from 1921; Son of the Sheik is its 1926 sequel. Both were on the disc I got from Netflix, and both were less than 90 minutes long, so I watched both. The original film is the one the AFI recommended, on the 100 Passions list. It is one of the original desert epic love stories of the kind I avoid even now! (I had The English Patient on disc for—no lie—longer than 12 months and returned it without watching it.) But hey, <90 minutes.
Here’s my immediate problem with The Sheik being a legendary love story: it’s based on kidnapping. The female love interest, Lady Diana, catches the eye of the Sheik while they are both running around some desert city casino. Later, she is out in the desert with a guide who seems to be in cahoots with the Sheik and sets her up to get grabbed by the Sheik’s men, and then they hold her until she comes around. She stays in a luxurious tent and wears luxurious outfits, which the movie seems to think makes it a little more OK. But even by the standards of the 1920s, this entire endeavor is pretty offensive.
Anyway, the Sheik wins her over because there is a rival gang of bandits who see that the Sheik is traveling with a white lady, and they decide they will steal her away from her captors. And unlike the Sheik and his men, these bandits are bad guys. So the Sheik successfully fights the bandits, getting injured in the process, and Lady Diana is overcome by gratitude and love. Happily ever after!
The racial politics are not terribly enlightened, either. Lady Diana sits by his bedside after the bandit battle, where the Sheik sleeps in one of those not-too-serious movie comas, and she remarks, so weirdly, that he has “large hands for an Arab.” (Firstly, is it a stereotype that Arabs have small hands? Or are generally small? What does one have to do with the other?) But then the Sheik’s English companion breaks the news to the Lady that the Sheik was never an Arab! His parents were European, had some desert encounter with the previous Sheik—he saved their lives or something—and then the previous Sheik, who had no sons, willed the title to this European boy. And he takes it on, going to live and rule over this lawless desert territory for some reason.
This backstory fits Valentino the actor, who was Italian and not Arab—not that Old Hollywood would hesitate for a SECOND to attribute a minority race to a white actor, mind you, there are a million examples. Here is a list of them, and they’re missing Katharine Hepburn playing Asian and Charlton Heston playing Mexican, off the top of my head.
But anyway, what’s really obvious about this moment in the The Sheik is that it gives Lady Diana permission to truly love the Sheik and consider him as a mate. The movie makes it very clear, as does the performance by the actress, that this is a moment of revelation for her. He is suitable now.
The movie does have some fine action, interesting sets and costumes. Agnes Ayres is lively and appealing as Lady Diana, though I was unimpressed by Valentino. Other than a few fight scenes, the Sheik does very little that is interesting to watch. Like many actors of his generation, Valentino makes a lot of big, broad faces. His role as the Sheik is still impenetrable. His acting doesn’t offer any indications of why he thinks kidnapping Lady Diana will be an effective way to win her, or whether he makes any reconsiderations of the choice once it’s been done. He seems to love her in an obsessed, heavy-breathing type of way. The reputation of Valentino as the king of romantic heroes was not fully justified to me by the performance here.
The sequel, which takes place 20-some years later, stars Valentino both as the original Sheik (barely recognizable under makeup and beard) and as the titular Son, not surprisingly a dead ringer for his father. A new young actress plays the love interest, while actress Agnes Ayres returns as mother of the Son, for which she received this charming credit:
The plot is some mess involving a girl who dances for coins, whose father is part of a roving bandit gang. She has a secret romance going on with the Sheik’s son, and the gang finds out and tries to exploit the son or the sheik or something. And there is much battling, and some son stepping out of the shadow of his father, and so on. It was only fine.
The extras on the disc were fascinating time capsules. Valentino apparently judged a series of beauty contests all over the United States (and Canada) and then judged the national finals in 1923. Apparently he did this long and thankless job because he was under a promotional contract with a cosmetics company, a contract he took on to rebound financially from a divorce. Anyway, there’s a short film about the contests and lots of footage from the final pageant and the crowning of the most beautiful woman in America, Miss Toronto. Whoops. (According to that link above, Valentino was probably having an affair with Miss Toronto. Scandal!)
Another extra, terribly disturbing, is newsreel footage reporting on Valentino’s death at age 31. He died very suddenly (due to infections following appendicitis surgery) and at the height of his fame (Son of the Sheik came into theaters a month after his death). The newsreel includes footage of the funeral home and the body itself, lying in state. That’s not an image I can imagine seeing on movie screens now (for sure on the internet, and TMZ). You can even buy glossies of it on EBay.
I always think of Old Hollywood whenever anyone talks about TMZ or other abominations of modern media. We saw an example of this last week when ABC News buzzed the house of the newly-deceased celebrity Robin Williams with helicopters, taking footage of…what? What could they have hoped to catch on video? Ambulances? A medical examiner or coroner entering the house? The body being carried out, I suppose. Like that’s something we need or deserve to see. It’s gross behavior to feel entitled to that level of celebrity access, but it is most decidedly not new.
A strange case, Silver Linings Playbook. It’s basically a romantic comedy, a trifle that got this huge awards push for some reason (Harvey Weinstein) and thus masqueraded as something grander and more important than it is.
Now listen, I have nothing against proclaiming a romantic comedy as a piece of greatness. Romantic comedies are a crucial part of film history. It Happened One Night won a jillion Oscars back in 1935 and it deserved all of them. Annie Hall deserved its award attention in 1978. I am one of those secret Shakespeare in Love (Best Picture, 1998) supporters, even, because I think one, that movie is brilliant, and two, Saving Private Ryan is overrated.
That’s all right. Go scream and bang some dishes. You’ll get over it, and then come back.
I don’t know that Silver Linings Playbook is of the level of those other movies. It Happened One Night is special just because it’s a near-perfect filmic experience in an era when everything about film was newborn. It set precedents for romantic bickering, comedic action, pacing, movie star charisma, everything. Annie Hall is one of those defining-a-generation movies. (Mmmm, zeitgeisty.) Shakespeare in Love succeeds at comedy and drama, and has a perfect screenplay. (Perfect.) Playbook, on the other hand, does not have a perfect screenplay—it strains and is contrived in places. It is not heartbreakingly of its time. It doesn’t feel new about anything.
Here is what Playbook is: a really funny, genuinely romantic, undoubtedly well-acted, charming movie that we’ll all have forgotten in a couple years, but which you will not regret having shelled out a tenner to see. See, my secret is that I love romantic comedies. Despite being perpetually disappointed by them. The modern romantic comedy is terrible. It’s stupid. It’s sexist. It has Gerard Butler in it. Playbook is a movie that boldly proclaims, “A romantic comedy doesn’t have to be terrible!”
Somehow, everybody tried a little harder on this one. The hook is mental illness: Bradley Cooper, our main character, is a man who in his late twenties or early thirties (not sure if he’s playing his own age, or younger; there is some evidence that he is) is newly diagnosed as bipolar. He has a violent incident in his past for which he spent several months in a mental institution. In the opening scene of the movie, his mother has come to check him out, despite everyone’s anxiety that he’s not ready for the stresses of reality.
Cooper’s character, Pat, has convinced himself that he can overcome his own brain functions with exercise and positivity. He feels strong; he feels like he can take that bipolarity and just choke it dead. And I LOVE that the movie acknowledges almost immediately what a bad and erroneous idea this is. Pat goes back on his meds pretty quickly, because brain chemistry and state of mind are different things, something movies almost never tell you. His psychiatrist is also really good. Movie shrinks tend to be terrible; they say ridiculous things, they encourage their patients to do out-of-character, off-the-wall things because they live to establish plot contrivances. Pat’s guy listens, reacts, reframes.
(Beyond that, some of the things the movie has to say about mental illness are weird, at best. Other reviews can fill you in on that, because it didn’t bother me so much.)
Jennifer Lawrence sails in amidst Playbook’s biggest contrivance: healing through dance. Lawrence’s Tiffany, who is clinically depressed, in a self-destructive heavy-eyeliner kind of way, is a ballroom dancer, and she needs a partner for a big competition. Pat balks at being that partner, but Tiffany’s also a great manipulator and plays an emotional trump card. She knows just what’s important to him, and how to dangle it in front of his face. So he’s caught up, and we get a classic mismatched pair of misanthropes who will “improbably” fall in love.
Again, so obvious, so done before. Still, dancing is always interesting to watch, and everybody in this film is basically excellent. Cooper manages to vault right over his usual douchey Cooperness. The buzz cut helps; he doesn’t so closely resemble Hangover guy. There was something else he did, though, that I really enjoyed. I don’t know how to explain it really, except to say that he was a serious guy who was also funny to watch. The character is hyper; he takes things to ridiculous extremes. To a degree, even his trials and tribulations are funny. The movie knows that, Cooper knows that. But Pat takes himself 100% seriously. And Cooper plays that contradiction: a dead serious guy, smack in the middle of a romantic comedy.
You know who else is great? Robert De Niro. There was a time when that didn’t need to be specified, but we all know De Niro’s kind of lowered his standards in the last decade or so. This character he plays, Pat’s dad, is not built from De Niro clichés, he’s not a tough guy. He’s actually quite a sensitive dude. He has OCD, and he is devoted to the concept of good luck charms. He thinks Pat is one of them, and uses that as a way to guilt Pat into spending more time with him (i.e., “The team lost, and you should’ve been here!”). Pat’s negotiations with his family—trying to rebuild those relationships and regain their trust—are as important to the story as the romance, and that gives the story a little extra weight.
Awards Attention: Though it was up for Best Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay, and, weirdly, Editing, it was never really in the running for any of those. Playbook is an actor’s movie, so that is where bets were laid. Though the movie came away with one just Oscar, for Jennifer Lawrence in her lead role, there were four nominations—Cooper, De Niro, and Jacki Weaver as Pat’s mom had the other three.
Weaver had the least real chance; not only was she up against a powerhouse (Anne Hathaway from Les Mis), but she had a nothing role in this movie. She was nominated a couple years ago for a movie called Animal Kingdom in which she seemed equally underused until this scene at the end where she suddenly delivered this chilling speech that made you realize there was tons more to her character than you had initially thought. I kept waiting for something like that in Playbook, and it did not happen. De Niro, on the other hand, is doing something very special here—a very modulated, fidgety, improbably emotional tough guy. I thought he had a good chance, but it did not work out for him.
Bradley Cooper is, as I wrote above, just great in this movie, but he was up against Daniel Day Lewis as Lincoln, and never had a shot in hell. The best thing he’s going to get out of this is being referred to as “Oscar nominee Bradley Cooper” in movie trailers from here on out, which is not a bad thing for him.
As for Jennifer Lawrence, I watched The Hunger Games again this week, and—she made these two movies in the same year—I feel like her performance in Hunger Games was so much more intense than Playbook. The circumstances of that movie are just naturally more intense—being hunted for your life will do that—but it still seems like a problem. I don’t want to play into any stereotypes about acting—“there has to be tons of emoting in tons of intense situations or it’s not really acting!”—but the role here just seems slight, compared to others she’s done (Winter’s Bone has another great performance of hers, in another much more serious film).
Having said that, there were a couple moments in Playbook that I found impressive. Not the “I must be crazy!” diner freakout they used as her clip at the Oscars, which seemed overdone, nor the “schooling everybody in football stats” scene everyone assumed they would use as her clip at the Oscars, which was more about the writing than anything special in the delivery. But I loved her nearly-hyperventilating anxiety when she blows up at her sister for inviting Nicki to the dance competition, and the broken, longing looks she sometimes gives Pat when he’s ignoring her. And she danced real cute, and we all love her regardless, so congrats on the Oscar, Jennifer.
This movie was in strong contention over at Tomato Nation’s recent bracket tournament for the bleakest and most depressing movies ever. It is a movie that many moviegoers—even those game for foreign films and/or Oscar bait—skipped because of its subject matter. It’s about an elderly couple, Georges and Anne (played by Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva), and their love which increasingly becomes painful obligation as health problems begin to plague Anne.
I read a lot of comments by people who specifically said they wouldn’t see any movies where grown-ups have to wear diapers. Well, guess what. There are adult diapers in this movie. It is Hard to Watch, much like the movie Tracy Jordan was in on 30 Rock. Anne loses her dignity in myriad ways that Haneke lays out to be as bracing as he can. It takes something that people so willingly ignore—the fact that our bodies age, deteriorate, and then die—and makes it everything, unignorable. Unless, I guess, you don’t show up in the first place.
The movie opens when both are in good health; they come home from a concert (they were classical musicians, formerly), they banter about bedtime. They are both trim and not badly-dressed and seem like models for fulfilling elderlihood (a word I just made up). Then Anne has the world’s creepiest stroke (Haneke has also directed some thrillers, and here and there it shows—quite effectively) and it all goes to hell.
Actually, they roll with the punches first. She is partially paralyzed to begin, largely immobile all down her left side, but still is able to get around a little bit, generally using her husband as a crutch. He will grab her on her right, arms around her, and almost drag her around in half-circles, and that way she can move. It looks almost like slow-dancing, which is not a coincidence. We see her sitting in bed reading, holding and turning the pages both with her good hand. A former piano student of hers visits, and while he is uncomfortable with her appearance, she waves it away. (Even though the loss of a full hand’s functionality for a pianist is a real tragedy, one that the movie does not forget to illustrate.)
There is even one particularly funny little moment when some medical dudes bring Anne a motorized wheelchair and she tries it out in the vestibule of their apartment. She moves it a few feet forward, a few feet back, whirls it in a slow circle, all while Georges talks to her about something else. It’s the closest thing to freewheeling behavior you really see in the whole movie. They still believe at this point that they will weather this setback; that it will mean a different life for them, but not a worse one.
And it just gets worse and worse from there. A movie about eighty-year-olds with health problems is really only going to end in one way. What this movie wants to make clear, though, is that sometimes it happens slowly, and that makes it harder for everybody involved, especially for people who have previously loved each other as independent, self-possessed adults. Georges takes considerate care of Anne at every second, until he is forced to hire a nurse who can do some things he can’t. All through the movie I kept marveling, “He’s old too!” He must be tired, he must have aches and pains, but he makes everything in their life about taking care of her. He bristles at intimations from his daughter (played by Isabelle Huppert) that Anne needs to be put away somewhere.
Trintignant is amazing, by the way. Riva got all the attention because her performance involves so much physicality (paralysis, plus looking less and less like a human as she goes on) but the resolve of Georges—that Anne deserves this commitment from him, even though it’s sapping the life out of him, too, even though her decline fills him with profound sadness—it’s astounding and done almost totally in the way he looks at Anne, or stares into space.
There is a strange moment, a line where Anne tells Georges that he “can be a monster sometimes.” It was in the trailer, which I saw a dozen times before the movie came out. She says it quite matter-of-factly, he doesn’t ask for clarification, they don’t discuss it more. Is she serious? Has he been cruel in the past? We just don’t see any evidence of that in the scenes we do see. There is one moment when he succumbs to frustration and slaps her, but it seems to be the result of intense fear and stress, and not a fundamental meanness inside him. Because of its placement in the trailer, I assumed this movie would be about an older man who has neglected his wife, and who has to step up (or fails to step up) when she becomes ill. But (other than that line) that’s not what we see here. It’s very strange. Maybe it’s just a line to remind the audience not to make assumptions. “We may be here now, but there were fifty or sixty years prior to this, and you don’t know what was going on then.”
Despite the devastating nature of the subject matter, there is beauty to Amour, too, in their beautiful metropolitan apartment if nothing else, but also in little moments when Anne and Georges are just coping as best they can. They do have “amour” for one another, and even though it’s a double-edged sword (that title just drips with irony), there is something admirable in sharing a life with someone literally until death.
Awards Attention: It won Best Foreign Language film, to nobody’s surprise. I think its placement in the Best Picture race (where it lost, of course) was mostly to prove to people that the Academy is cool and not in the pocket of Big Hollywood. It was never going to win that, of course. And I wouldn’t have voted for it for that, either, mostly because it’s such a small story; still, in thinking about what makes a movie a success, we can’t forget that telling a story that’s affecting and honest and deep doesn’t happen without some serious artistry behind the camera.
Haneke lost Best Director to Ang Li, who put tigers in lifeboats, and lost Best Screenplay to Quentin Tarantino. This is probably because no one ever stops speaking dialogue in Tarantino movies, while Amour was about 70% intense silence. I will say that Amour’s non-linear narrative (which begins at the end) was a very effective storytelling choice.
Finally: Riva was nominated for Best Actress. She lost the Oscar to Lawrence, but beat both her and Jessica Chastain for the BAFTA a few weeks earlier. As I said above, the physicality is the real marker of skill in this performance. She moves freely and easily, and then she droops on one side. And then her body becomes more and more maimed, and then her eyes become more and more vacant. She physically becomes a shell of a person. And while you can’t underestimate the effect of makeup here, Riva is really doing something that you need to be an actress with 60 years’ worth of experience to be able to do. (Hiroshima mon Amour, people. That was her in 1959.) Amazing lady, who at 85 must still be fully in control of her body to have pulled off this performance, so she’s already winning at the game of life. (Also, she has a César and something called the “Silver Goddess” from Mexico, and she’s still beautiful, so she’s doing OK all around.)
Among other reasons that I have not been prioritizing posting to my blog as I so earnestly declared that I would, is this: after a fall and winter of applications and recommendations and campus visits, I have officially accepted an offer to join an MLIS program this fall.
Within six months, here is where you will find me: iSchool at the University of Pittsburgh
Yes, it’s back to school for me for a librarian’s degree. And before you tell me that print is dead (–Egon), let me assure you that I have studied this subject a great deal and that all information schools are heavily digital these days, and as far as concerns the ability of libraries to sustain themselves, we know more than you.
Now I just have to finish up my job here, move to Pittsburgh and uproot my entire life! (…Yikes.)
I managed, under the wire, to see all nine Best Picture nominees, but I’ve been out of town this weekend and not all the reviews are finished. Look back this week for Silver Linings Playbook, Amour, and Django Unchained (plus some others).
Post-show results are in red.
Preference: Zero Dark Thirty
Yep, Argo won.
Prediction: Daniel Day-Lewis, Lincoln
Preference: Daniel Day-Lewis, Lincoln
Yep, Daniel Day-Lewis won.
Prediction: I legitimately have no idea. I don’t think Naomi Watts or Quvenzhane Wallis really have any semblance of a chance between them. Any of the other three (Jessica Chastain, Jennifer Lawrence, or Emmanuelle Riva) could take it home and I’d say, “Yes, that seems about right.”
Preference: hmmm… maybe Riva! Lawrence should win someday for a better movie than Silver Linings Playbook, and she and Chastain both have decades to get here again. OK, talked myself into it. Emmanuelle Riva.
Lawrence took this one, clumsily and charmingly. I still think the movie was too slight to warrant an Oscar-winning performance, but I can’t really begrudge Lawrence anything. She even took a moment to wish her competitor, Emmanuelle Riva, a happy birthday! That’s a mark of a legitimately cool person.
Best Supporting Actor
Prediction: Christoph Waltz, Django Unchained
Preference: I don’t know. I loved De Niro’s performance in Silver Linings Playbook, but Philip Seymour Hoffman was mesmerizing in The Master. (In what was actually more of a lead actor performance in my opinion.) So I guess either of those dudes.
Waltz took it. Though I enjoyed his peformance in Django Unchained (a movie I finally saw the night before the Oscars), I found myself rooting for Hoffman at the last moment. What brilliant work he did there. Too bad for The Master.
Best Supporting Actress
Prediction: Anne Hathaway, Les Miserables
Preference: Anne Hathaway, Les Miserables (I guess-none of those performances blew me away, honestly)
Yep, Anne Hathaway won. She wore a terrible dress.
Prediction: Steven Spielberg, Lincoln
Preference: Ang Lee, Life of Pi? Maybe Haneke. It’s hard to choose in these cases where the person I think actuallly deserved it – Kathryn Bigelow – wasn’t actually nominated.
Half the jokes in the telecast were about Ben Affleck’s nomination snub, while I still think the real snub story was Kathryn Bigelow. Neither of those heavyweights being available to take it—and Spielberg having alienated voters somehow, I guess, possibly with that final scene in Lincoln I had such problems with—it was a surprise win for the unassuming Ang Lee. I can’t begrudge that guy anything; his work is always technically proficient but also deeply emotional, much as Life of Pi was. (And it’s not like he hasn’t survived his own snubs; Lee’s Brokeback Mountain lost Best Picture to the laughable Crash in 2006.)
Best Original Screenplay
Prediction: Quentin Tarantino, Django Unchained
Preference: Wes Anderson & Roman Coppola, Moonrise Kingdom
Tarantino won. It wasn’t a bad screenplay by any means, but I still think Moonrise Kingdom deserved it more.
Best Adapted Screenplay
Argo took it. Screenwriter Chris Terrio gave a lovely speech about solving problems with creativity instead of warfare. A great message, and an Oscar-appropriate one.
Best Animated Feature
Preference: Brave – only one I saw, but I loved it enough that I bet it would remain my favorite of the five
Also the only one the voters saw, I bet! Also, they love to give awards to dudes in kilts.
Best Foreign Language Film
Preference: Amour – well, it’s the only one I saw. No looks really good though; I’ll see that when it comes to Cleveland next month
Seeing fewer of the nominees gives me a better shot of guessing correctly. I was right here.
Best Documentary Feature
Prediction: Searching for Sugar Man
Preference: I didn’t see any of them, but The Invisible War is about a serious feminist issue (sexual assaults in the military), so I want that one
Ditto. Right here also.
Best Animated Short
Prediction: “Fresh Guacamole”
Preference: “Adam and Dog”
They went lighthearted, awarding “Paperman.”
Best Live-Action Short
Prediction: “Buzkashi Boys” if I’m being cynical, “Curfew” if the Academy is cool
“Curfew”! Writer-director Shawn Christensen praised the little actress Fatima Ptacek for stealing the movie away from him, for “being so good nobody remembers [he] was in it.”
Best Documentary Short
I was right here, “Inocente” won, and she was there. I was a bit disappointed to find she was visibly a few years older than she had been during the filming of the short, and dressed appropriately like a grown-up.
Best Original Song
Prediction: “Skyfall,” from Skyfall
Preference: “Skyfall” – And Adele’s going to perform it on the show so we ALL win
Which was more of a sure thing, Adele or Daniel Day-Lewis? They were both pretty much always going to happen. I do wish she had performed with Shirley Bassey, or immediately before or after, instead of both of them being marooned in different parts of the show.
Best Original Score
Prediction: Lincoln – never bet against John Williams
Preference: Skyfall – I don’t know, I just really like the way they weave in the classic Bond refrain
They went with Life of Pi here. Shrug. (P.S. I did not know at the time that Skyfall‘s composer, Thomas Newman, was on his eleventh nomination without a prior win. Really too bad.)
Prediction: Lincoln in one of its “sorry we aren’t giving you Best Picture” awards
Preference: I don’t know; Life of Pi looked beautiful, but an enormous amount of that was CGI. Django had some beautiful vistas. Skyfall, too. Oh, and those golden fields in Anna Karenina! I guess any of them would be OK besides Lincoln. Oh well.
Life of Pi here too, that being the surprise big winner of the evening, taking one more statue than even Argo did. Truly did not see that coming. Also, like Best Score, Cinematography had a perennial bridesmaid of a nominee in Roger Deakins, cinematographer of Skyfall. Ten nominations, two of them in the same year (2008) and zero wins.
Best Art Direction
Prediction: Les Miserables in one of its “sorry we aren’t giving you Best Picture” awards
Preference: Anna Karenina – this movie had a beautiful, imaginative look, partially realistic and partially staged
I always do so badly in the technicals. It went to Lincoln.
Preference: Zero Dark Thirty! The tension this movie sustained over long periods of time was masterful.
This one was right.
Best Sound Editing
Prediction: Argo – meaning I have no idea
Preference: Zero Dark Thirty – have I mentioned that I really, really loved this movie? I don’t know, the sound was probably good.
An unusual tied award, going to the teams behind both Skyfall and Zero Dark Thirty.
Best Sound Mixing
Preference: Life of Pi – I assume this is the category where you reward whoever made us hear the sound of the tiger’s claws sticking in the canvas tarp. I loved that.
It was Les Mis here. For the record, I read sometime this past week that Sound Editing deals with the sound that was recorded on the set, and Sound Mixing deals with the post-filming audio tweaking. Or possibly it is the reverse.
Best Costume Design
Prediction: Mirror Mirror has the brightest and wildest of the stylized historical gowns
Preference: Anna Karenina, although I suppose dressing Keira Knightley to look glamorous is not a terribly difficult endeavor. But all the wintry fur hats and stuff! Excellent.
Preference was right; the only attention Anna Karenina got all night.
Prediction: The Hobbit for the big hairy feet
Preference: Les Miserables, for the consumptive pale and rotten teeth
Again, preference, not prediction, was right.
Best Visual Effects
Prediction: The Avengers in a little nod to the highest grossing film of the year
Preference: Life of Pi for that freaky island
Yet again, preference was right. Maybe I need to quit assuming the Oscars will go for the obvious choice. (At least as far as technical awards are concerned. For acting, they still pretty much do.)