the night BEFORE the night that we slept on a park bench and a guy peed in the bushes next to me and offered me beer from a plastic bag

Everyone else's memory is of THE night.  THE night when we missed our train and slept on a bench in a park.  But my best memory is of the night before THE night.

Did I ever tell you that I watched Slumdog Millionaire with 2 Norwegian guys in a 40 seat theater at the back of a hostel in Barcelona at 1 in the morning?  I think I have, but who cares.  Nobody's forcing you to read this.

It was the most insignificant thing; I was tired and Pau and Angie wanted to use the computers at Kiah and Susan's hostel before we headed back.  We had to take the subway to get to our place on the outskirts of the city and nobody would have contact with family for a few days.  Literally the only reason we'd stopped there was because Paulina and Angelina were homesick; I was perfectly happy wandering around Spain aimlessly.  In my mind, what was a few extra days, or even weeks?  It's strange how you almost forget that home exists.

Well, I'd gone into the "computer room", checked my email, and chatted with my sister for about 10 minutes.  Funny how quickly we ran out of things to say - this was literally every conversation that we had while I was gone:

"hey"
"hey"
"what's up?"
"not much.  It's hot."
"it's hot here too, even at night.  how's work?"
"it's good.  Julie [her boss] and I went out to lunch today and then to the container store."
"that sounds fun.  did you buy anything?"
"no, I'm fucking poor."
"oh, that sucks."
"yeah.  so where are you?"
"[Insert the place that I am].  It's beautiful.  [Insert name of random roommate] is being crazy, though."
"that sucks.  what did she do?"
"[Insert crazy thing that she did]."
"you want me to tell her to stop being so fucking crazy?"
"no, I'll figure something out.  I'm gonna go, I'm pretty tired."
"k."
"say hi to mom and dad for me."
"k."
"love you."
"love you, too."

- or maybe it's just that we didn't need to say a lot.  We could talk about experiences later; you don't want to reminisce too early - it ruins the fun of actually doing something.

So I told them I was done (some crazy brit wanted to use the comp anyways) and that I'd be next door; it sounded like Transformers was playing or something, maybe I could take a nap in there - at least it was dark.

But when I walked in, it was something completely different.  I was instantly engrossed.  The darkness didn't have the effect I'd imagined - instead of dulling my senses I was wide awake.  Sounds were louder, smells stronger, colors brighter.  I sat, and I watched, and I thought about the time I'd spent away and the things that I'd dome.  I thought about my friends and my plans and my finances.  And then I finally thought about me, about how I felt at that moment, at that exact moment.

I had a feeling of complete transcendence; here I was, a Mexican-American, sitting in a hostel in Spain with Norwegians watching a film that took place in India where they spoke Hindi and English.

Have you ever wanted to take a moment and put it in a bottle and seal it air-tight, so that when you got it out again it was just as fresh as when you put it in?  It's more that a photo or a mental image; it's feeling the same way, exactly, as you did when you were in the moment.  I finally did it, and hearing this music is all that I need to bring it up again.

Someone remind me to look up this night in my diary; maybe I'll post my entry.

Even I'm judging me, so I wouldn't expect anything less of YOU

You know those sad 35-year-old chicks who show up to ComiCon dressed as a fat Slave Leia (chains, and nudity, and weird little British accent, and everything)?  This is how it starts.

Say you get bored and decide to watch Serenity, because it's on HBO and it's free and what the hell nobody's gonna tell YOU what to watch so it might as well be science fiction.  And then you fucking love it.  So you say you know, I think I heard somewhere that this was based on a tv show... maybe I should look THAT thing up.  Oh, it's on Netflix watch instantly, FANTASTIC.  You probably chew through that entire series in what?  A week?  10 days?  But, wait.  It's only 1 season... there's nothing left.  WHAT DO YOU DO NOW?

So you probably start to hint to close friends that you've developed a tiny appetite (lies, it's huge) for science fiction, but only the good stuff.  Like anyone will believe that you're not a total freak just because you have standards.  And let's say, at a party, someone mentions that you should probably watch Battlestar Galactica just cuz.  And 5 days later you find yourself googling shit like this and finishing all of season 1... all FIFTEEN HOURS of season 1.

Ya, that's probably how it starts.

Yessir, Capt'n Tightpants

Mal: Okay, help me look for our guy Harrow..  He's supposed to be older, kinda stocky, wears a red sash..

Kaylee: Is that him?

Mal: ... that's the buffet table.

Kaylee: Well how can we be sure... unless we question it.

Netflix knows me better than I know myself

I probably never would have picked any of these up on my own, but they were fantastic, all of them.

Looking back, 2001 was actually pretty bomb. Just not for me.

What the hell.  Ghost World changed my life.  And now she's a sexy alien.  Whyyy

Read this on /Film earlier:

It looks as though Scarlett Johansson will be playing a big-screen villainess once again. According to Entertainment Weekly, the "Iron Man 2" starlet, who recently earned raves for her performance of The Black Widow in the superhero film, has been tapped to lead "Under the Skin."

The sci-fi comedy, which is set to be helmed by "Sexy Beast" director Jonathan Glazer, will reportedly begin filming in 2011. The news source reports that Johansson will play "a sexy space alien who kidnaps human hitchhikers and sends them back to her home world to be served as exotic hors d'oeuvres."

Fun facts:
Memento, The Royal Tennenbaums, Mulholland Drive, Moulin Rouge!, Waking Life, Donnie Darko, Harry Potter & The Sorcerer's Stone and Amelie also came out in 2001.  Less than 5 sequels for the whole year.  Can you believe it?  Go ahead, go look.  Seriously what the helll

I'd say that a little part of me, the part that's had this expression

on her face since 2001, died when I read this.  But, sadly, that death occurred when I saw The Island.  Ugh.

Conversations with Other Women

If you'd never seen a film, but had read a film review, you'd never guess that it was describing a moving picture.  Subtlety, nuance, idiosyncrasy, faces, dialogue, action, reaction, shape, emotion.  Not a ton of that in the films that speak to us.  Or at least not in the films that I want to watch.  


Why do we watch them anyways?  Because the one thing that I'm missing from my life is a giant explosion?  Or two?  Probably not.  The chance to watch someone feel an emotion not unlike something that you may feel at any given time in your life.  Distant familiarity, maybe longing, maybe regret.  To experience what is happening to them, with them.  


In the film, the man says, "time really can't move in two directions."  But is that really true?


Roger Ebert said: "In our minds, and in our hearts, time is hardly linear or unidirectional. Visit your parents and you're instantly a child again, and if you all live long enough, time begins to curl back on itself and they become your children. Or run into a certain old girlfriend or boyfriend and you may enter a disconcerting time warp between then and now and some shared future you once envisioned, but that never came to pass."


There is a central struggle in the film, between the man and the woman, with each trying to get a grip on who they're with.  And in the process they begin to forget who they are themselves.  When you're with an old friend, do you feel your age?  You might, but don't you also feel that you're the age you were when you met them?  If I met you when I was 15 and we were having a conversation at 40, would you think of me as your 40-year-old friend, or as something else?  How would I think of you?  


"Is the 38-year-old you the same person as the 22-year-old you? Might the 22-year-old and the 38-year-old (and who knows how many others) exist simultaneously inside the same mind and body? And how well can you really know another person -- and for how long, given that people are always changing?" - Roger Ebert


It was not a love story, it was a conversation.  The poster lied, but that didn't matter because I didn't see the poster until after the movie.  


Things both were and weren't happening, because there both was and wasn't action.  It was almost transcendental in it's lack of commitment to plot, but that's how most of my favorite movies are.  I mean, what does it matter anyways, whether they end up together or not?  Will that affect me in some way after I've stopped watching the film?  It'll probably make me cynical if they do, so I actually prefer not to know.  

Criterion Collection poster. So simple, so powerful.

"You're like the woman from The Omen... you've given birth to a demon, and now it's going to kill you."

I died laughing while I was watching this.

On romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion.

I spent the evening tripping balls.

No, I wasn't high.  But I was watching Waking Life, which I'm fairly certain meets the criteria for being high.  If you missed my previous post, I re-posted one of my favorite clips from the movie along with a few others.  The last one is really intriguing.  Actually, they all are.

I don't wanna be an ant, you know?

Maybe I only exist in your mind... I'm still just as real as anything else.

Sabertooth tiger, right behind you.



Okay, mister psychic, I believe you, you're a psychic.

Oh, klahoma.

Yeah, I just realized that you can netflix this.  WHAT!?  As of 30 seconds ago it's number 1 on my queue.

New York, I Don't Love You

The depths of my disappointment are indescribable.


"Where Paris, je t'aime overflowed with love from almost every pore, truly making me believe Paris is a city of love, New York, I Love You made me think that the city is nothing more than a place for chain smokers, hook-ups, stalkers and fights."


If it was possible to make one of the most exciting and vibrant cities in the world a place that you'd never want to visit, this movie accomplished that.  Of the 10 short films there were, what?  Maybe 4 that I can remember?  2 that I liked?  Honestly, it made Manhattan seem like it was filled with the most boring, sad, lonely people ever.  Wasn't this movie supposed to be about love?


"The glaring problem I see is that in Paris each short film had its allotted time, with no characters crossing over into one another's stories, save for one small exception toward the end. In New York, there is a constant back-and-forth of characters jumping around, in and out of multiple story-lines, rarely knowing where one ends and the next begins, lacking any real sense of focus. But worst of all, where Paris felt genuine, New York felt gimmicky."


The one story that I loved was the one with Anton Yelchin and Olivia Thirlby.  It was one of the best short films that I've seen.  If you ever get a chance to see this film, please savor these few minutes because they are truly the best.  And you will laugh at the end of it.  Really hard.

Obviously, TCM is more awesome in France

And for a moment I felt like Carole Lombard

I'm kind of in love with the score to this movie.

A thing that I like about West Side Story

I've heard (on more than one occasion) people say that this is one of the weakest songs from the whole production. I'm not sure why... there's probably some musical theory about how the harmonies don't change from minor to major fast enough or something.

I don't know.

But, to me, that's why it's music and not science. It helps me to not be able to figure these things out - that way something in my life can have a little magic.

I'm feeling transcendental... am I here?

One of my favorite performances by any singer, ever.

Roberta

Irene Dunne is an almost forgotten name to
today's movie audiences. Indeed, if she is
remembered at all it is through the Cary Grant
connection. For her contribution to Hollywood's
history is but a rumour, a whisper lost in the
winds of time. Is that fair?

"If one is not willing to yield to Irene Dunne's temperament, her talents, her reactions, following their detail almost to the loss of one's own identity, one will not know, and will not care, what the film is about." - Stanley Cavell

"She always knew how to put a man in her place, but at the same time leave him room to maneuver out of it." - Richard Schickel



I netflixed this, only to realize about 2 minutes in that I'd already seen it. But not for years, so I watched it. As it turns out, it really was the first Irene Dunne film that I'd seen! I didn't even remember her from the last time!

As much as I love Irene Dunne, Fred Astaire, and Ginger Rodgers, I have to say... I'm not really a huge fan of Randolph Scott. He's too... overbearing? It's hard to describe the feeling that I get from him.

For instance, there's a plot point where he and Irene are running Roberta's (dress shop) together and they're viewing all of the dresses in their Fall line. She says to him, "If there's anything that you don't like, just tell me." He responds with, "Oh, gee. I'm sure I'll like everything!" As the girls come out and model the dresses, they progressively become more and more horrific (in my eye). They are dripping with gaudy gold sequins and lace, with yards and yards of fabric layered one upon another. It's really quite terrifying. And then a girl comes out wearing something which (at the time) must have been quite revealing, just a simple sleeveless halter, floor-length dress. Something that you'd probably see at the Oscars nowadays. And he is shocked. No, not just shocked - horrified. It was vulgar and tasteless - she would have been more appropriately dressed had she been naked! Irene then tries to alter the dress, raising the back, etc, but he just says, "No! Throw it out! I want it out!" So much for liking everything.



I think this old fashioned style of singing is an acquired taste for many, but Irene's voice is lovely.

If you've never seen Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dance together, you must watch this.

That made me think of

My previous post forced me into a tangent that I will (unfortunately) have to indulge.

Would you still do it, Eddie Fisher?

I love Meryl Streep, BUT

Anna Wintour is a fashion goddess. After seeing this, though, I have to say.... Meryl is a goddess in her own right. To be able to mimic Anna perfectly without overdoing it.

If you haven't seen "The September Issue" yet, please - stop reading this right now and go see it. Sarah and I saw it last weekend and were, like, "!!!!!" the whole time. It's very revealing as far as the creative process goes, and I loved getting to see Grace Coddington, the Creative Director, in her element. She's the redheaded Brit in the clip below. Fiesty. She kind of reminds me of my mom's stepmom. Now, Anna Wintour is a greaaat editor, but Grace was really the star of the documentary, I think. And I know some people who agree.

Before Sunset

I know that I've mentioned it before, but I love these movies. I watched this in my sticky kitchen yesterday while I was making lemon squares.
I think I actually wrote in that previous post that I liked the first movie better... but now I'm not so sure. It's fun to watch them as college students... so hopeful, so idealistic, familiar I guess. But their agedness is refreshing. Or not refreshing exactly, but it's like it's new again. Like they're able to be the same by being different. Or is it different by being the same?