Author: Alicia

Some of you may know that I enjoy aliens. Aliens and teenage angst. (And if the aliens are teenagers, even better!

Get me some popcorn!) Behind my love for the paranormal, however, lies a deep appreciation of all fantasy, probably stemming from my elementary school days as an avid reader of Madeleine L'Engle, William Sleator, Frank Baum, and C.S. Lewis. What better way to get away from boring math classes than to hide a Narnia book under one's desk? I think that series is indelibly burned into my brain.

So, I was very excited to see the movie adaptation of “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe” on Monday night with Nina. After the whole LOTR saga, audiences expect more from fantasy films. (I don't think something as atrocious as 2000's “Dungeons and Dragons” will ever be allowed to happen ever again. Check out the imdb user comments on that one: “Just shoot me,” says one knowledgeable user.) Narnia definitely was a post-Peter Jackson film, with gorgeous scenery (like LOTR, Narnia was filmed in New Zealand), incredibly well-done computer animation, a stirring score (I particularly enjoyed the songs used in the soundtrack, not just the straight classical background stuff), and very good acting, especially from the children. I will say, however, that the battle scenes were VERY reminiscent of LOTR, and I wonder if perhaps Andrew Adamson, the director, could have made an effort to be less derivative.

Andrew Adamson, by the way, has only directed a few other films: Shrek, Shrek 2, and “Shrek in the Swamp Karaoke Dance Party”. (I'm not making this up!) His background is mostly in visual effects, which is probably why the effects in Narnia were so stunning.

The story, as you probably know, follows the four Pevensie siblings (Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy) from their boring days at an old professor's country home to their adventures in Narnia, a world to which they discover an entrance at the back of an old wardrobe. As a child, I had always had a specific vision of the moment when Lucy enters the wardrobe and discovers that it keeps going… and going… until it opens up into a snowy wood.* As the camera panned through rows upon row of fur coats I had the same tingle of anticipation as I did when reading the book. When Lucy, after dazedly wandering through the forest, reaches a clearing lit by a lamppost I thought excitedly, “The lamppost! I remember this!” And so it went through the entire movie, as if I were visiting my hometown after years of absence – “I remember this!! And this! And this!” I got swept up in the movie, taken away by this world I recalled from childhood. And, I felt the same way towards Susan as I did when reading the story: what an incredibly annoying character! But that's ok. I think I once thought Lucy was annoying too, but I actually really enjoyed her portrayal on screen by Georgie Henley. All four children interacted beautifully together – they were naturally argumentative yet loving, and didn't seem stilted or forced (the only one who might be guilty of that is Susan). Props to Adamson, again.

I'll stop kissing Adamson's butt soon, I promise, but one more thing:
I'm so glad he didn't shy away from showing the dark parts of the story – death, betrayal, abandonment, fear. It's a heavy movie, one that I would be nervous taking unprepared small children to, but it has so much more depth than something like “Spy Kids”. Children are perhaps the most pure philosophers there are, and Adamson doesn't underestimate his young audience.

Oddly enough, though, Mr. Tumnus, played by James McAvoy, seemed like a child molester. It was kind of creepy, really. Even at the end of the movie, when I believe Mr. Tumnus was supposed to be acting somewhat brotherly towards Lucy, I thought he was leering and gross. Was that intentional on the part of the director? Yuck!

Tilda Swinton was decent as the White Witch, but I believe she could have been icier and even more manipulative. I don't feel that she was mesmerizing enough to have enchanted Edmund so completely, even with her fawning and the magical Turkish Delight. (And here I'd like to mention: AMC Theaters do not serve Junior Mints! Nina and I had to suffer through a bag of mini peppermint patties! And like Edmund with his Turkish Delight, I could not stop eating the trash, and got sick. York Bites = spawn of the devil. Do not buy them or eat them ever. If you really want to get them, save some money and eat a cup of sugar instead. Same freakin' effect.) The White Witch had a wicked awesome fight scene, though. Fierce. Tougher and hotter than Eowyn (and here I must go off on another tangent: what was up with Miranda Otto? Eowyn was my FAVORITE character in the LOTR books, and she was SO WIMPY in the movies!).

Quick nerd note: the computer graphics imaging astounded me. This was the first movie I've seen where it really looked like the animals were speaking. Aslan, voiced by Liam Neeson, was impressive, but I was most taken aback by the little talking beavers. Cuteness! Cuteness and talented programmers! (I wonder if the programmers, while at MIT or some other such technical school, had any idea they'd be animating talking beavers for a living….)

Anyway, what I found most striking about this movie was that I felt that it still could have all been a fantasy in the kids' heads. I wondered if it was the director's plan to make the viewer think, “Oh well, look what these kids have been through; of course they needed some escapism. They needed a father figure, they needed to feel that they were winning a war, they had all that time on their hands…” But now I'm catching myself…. have I, like Susan does in the later books, lost my faith? Have I become that which is most feared: a grown-up?

Well, perhaps, but at least I'm a grown-up who plans on seeing what the heck “Shrek in the Swamp Karaoke Dance Party” is all about.

* So check THIS out. In the back of MY closet, there's a door to my backyard. I bet if I got really drunk and put some fur coats all over the place I could convince myself that my snowy backyard is Narnia, and maybe even that Pepper, the dog from next door, is a Secret Police Agent. Yeah…..maybe….not.

Shopgirl (Spoilers)

On Tuesday, I realized I hadn't been to a movie in ages. My friend Hadas hadn't, either, so we decided to see Shopgirl at Kendall on Wednesday after toning our biceps at the gym. I didn't know too much about the movie, save that it starred Steve Martin and Claire Danes. I assumed it would be a riotous romantic comedy, with hilarious antics from Steve and subtle demurring from Claire; upon seeing the poster with Jason Schwartzman (of Rushmore and I Heart Huckabees fame) I thought – this will be a riot!! I'll lose myself in two hours of pure entertainment in a cushy, expensive theater!

Well, that's what I get for not reading reviews before I go to movies. Indeed, Jason Schwartzman was hifreakinlarious – he's a comedic genius! And the portions of the movie in which he appeared were quirky, cute, and made me laugh out loud. That was truly a testimony to Steve Martin's writing – he adapted his own novella (also called “Shopgirl”) into the screenplay. However, the characters which Martin and Danes portrayed were simply… odd. Martin plays Ray Porter, a divorced man in his fifties who notices Mirabelle, a Sak's Fifth Avenue employee in her twenties, at her counter. He woos her, only to reveal that he's not that interested in a serious relationship (i.e. he'll keep sleeping with her, but with no strings attached. Jerk.). However, he seems to be almost drugged by the idea of romance, and by the idea of Mirabelle and her young, quiet, dull perfection. Mirabelle, on the other hand, is entranced by Ray and his (seemingly endless) money, enough so that she ignores his obvious inability to commit, and hopes and dreams that he'll fall in love with her. (Jason Schwatzman's character, Jeremy, is more peripheral, but is a lovely portrayal of a young man discovering how to relate to a woman, and how to move from his fantastical perception of her (and of himself), into a truly equal and open relationship.)

Having been romanced by men nearly twice my age, I can attest to the veracity of Steve Martin's Ray Porter, and I definitely fell victim once again to the allure of a seemingly put together older man: I thought that Ray was the real deal, and couldn't believe it when it was revealed that he was nothing but a cad. I suppose that Martin gave a convincing performance; however, I felt that the screenplay allowed Martin to wallow in his hallucinogenic idea of romance (picture him sipping wine in a private jet plane, large window revealing the moon and shimmering clouds, as he reminisces about Mirabelle's perfect body in slow motion).

Mirabelle, surprisingly (or maybe not so, considering the self-centered focus of Martin's screenplay) was boring, superficial, and nothing but a woman idealized by others – and created by others, as evidenced by her desire to be loved by Ray. She was unable to extract herself from the relationship at the first sign of Ray's lameness, simply because she did not have enough sense of self to be on her own, undefined by men. And it *is* complicated — Ray acted like he was in love with her in many instances. But there was a layer of his mind which couldn't commit, and Mirabelle didn't call him on it until it became PAINFULLY obvious. Man. That Ray Porter – what a jerk.

The score to the film, by the way, was terrible. It was basically the same four descending notes, over and over again, played on marimba or strings, always in accompaniment to scenes of Claire Danes undressing in slow motion.

I'm actually not sure whether or not I'd recommend this movie. It was a long two hours. I did smile quite a bit, and again, Jason Schwartzman's character and all the events on his road trip are fantastically funny.
Claire Danes for an Oscar? No way. Maybe Steve Martin. My verdict? DVD rental.

Hello, internets! My name is Alicia, and I am Mike's sister. I have been in hiding for far too long. But in the time since I have last posted, I have seen many a generic cialis 5 mg movie, including, but not limited to: Closer, The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, Hotel Rwanda, Talk To Her, and Sideways.

Before I endeavor to review one of the above movies, I would like to retract my fiery and hasty quoting of the Plymouth Acclaim.

I apologize to my esteemed colleague Kurt.

Kurt, let us indeed share the marathon task of reviewing movies, shows, cookie recipes, restaurants, and other sundries, such as My Incredibly Unproductive Monday.* I offer an olive branch to you, Kurt — we can call this section of the blog “Fatty and Alicia's Movie Reviews.” What do you think?

OK. Today I'd like to review “Closer”, since it stars one of my brother's favorite actresses, Natalie Portman, whose real name is Natalie Hershlag. Yup. That's her real name. And according to imdb, she is sometimes credited as “Natalie Domini”. I've never been a big fan of Portman-Hershlag-Domini since I saw the Star Wars prequels — George Lucas couldn't have asked her to act so blandly, could he have? And “Where The Heart Is” was not the Oscar-worthy tearjerker I had never thought it would be. However, “Garden State” changed my mind about her (although I was very nervous about her wallpaper-paste acting during the scene in which she first appears, foisting The Shins upon unsuspecting ER patients). She proved to be adorable, and since Zach Braff is *endlessly* adorable, I was adorabled out of my mind and fell in love and moved to LA to be with Zach and we're getting married!

Actually, that didn't happen. But I loved the movie, and became a slight Portman admirer. And Braff lover. Um, I mean “fan”. “Closer” has Portman playing a harsher character than those she's previously portrayed. She's a member of an ensemble cast comprising Julia Roberts, Clive Owen, and Jude Law, and she won a Golden Globe for her performance. If you're curious how she could have possibly beaten out Meryl Streep and Virginia Madsen, rest assured that I feel the same way. As Kayser said, “Every fourth line went flat!” And in the beginning of the movie, I felt she was simply reprising her “Garden State” character — quirky, cute, man-hypnotizing, and jealousy-inducing to certain movie reviewers**. Perhaps this was intentional; I could see it as the director's way to initially disguise the painfully avoidant life Alice, her character, actually leads. The director, by the way, is Mike Nichols, who did “The Graduate” a number of years ago. Interestingly, “The Graduate” became quite a successful play, and “Closer” was originally a stage production. Clive Owen, who plays Larry, was a member of the stage cast; he was fantastic, believable, and probably the only (albeit slightly) sympathetic character in the movie. The others — MAN! At one point Kayser asked me if I wanted to leave as I sunk into the depths of my seat — the emotional trauma between the four extremely selfish, manipulative, hurting and hurtful characters was a lot to stomach. But I stuck it out!! I'm tough like that. I suppose it was worth it — it's a great movie: well acted, well written, with beautiful people. But I have refrained from recommending it to my friends, unless they're the cynical type who really want to be depressed about relationships and the fact that Jude Law is NOT ACTUALLY CUTE EVEN THOUGH PEOPLE MAGAZINE SEEMS TO THINK HE IS.***

In any case, Julia Roberts was also excellent, and again, she's not an actress of whom I've been extremely fond. She even looked lovely with blond hair, and she pulled off a slew of obscenities with such conviction that I'm convinced she has the mouth of a trucker at home. Watch out, Hazel and Phinneauoueus. Phieneuaus, Phyneais. Whatever.

In conclusion? Great movie. Thumbs up to direction, filming, screenplay, Clive Owen, Julia Roberts, Jude Law's voice (not face), 3/4 of Natalie, and all of Zach Braff. Would I say, “Go out and see this with all your friends!!”? No. It's pretty harsh. Here's when you should see this movie: it's incredibly sunny out, you and all your friends are in fantastic relationships, you've just had a Red Bull, and you've won the lottery, even if it's just $5 on a scratch ticket. That way, while you're watching human relations dissolve in adulterous and pathological acid, you can say, “No worries! I'm WIRED and I have 5 bucks and I'm going to the beach with Zach Braff after this!!!”

*(M.I.U.M was so unproductive that I am actually writing this at 1:30 AM on Tuesday. In case you're interested, M.I.U.M involved surfing the internet mindlessly, baking some good cookies, reading out loud from Harper's to some friends, watching half of Days of Our Lives, putting a box on top of a cabinet, and making lists of things to do on Tuesday.)

**Only some. Not me.

*** I would like to direct the staff at People to Zach Braff if they're looking for cute. Seriously, check these photos out:

exhibit 1: jude law

exhibit 2: zach braff

No contest. Zach Braff = proof of God's devotion to women.

Okay. First of all, I apologize to all the nations for putting another dime in Tom Cruise's crazy, crazy pocket. But it was a hot night, and late, and I craved the dramatic digital sound of a summer blockbuster.

Blockbuster it was, and dudes!

I gotta say: it was good! It was good enough that I got home, nervously locked my doors and windows, and lay awake planning a “survival backpack” which would contain all I would ever need if aliens attacked the earth, intent upon annihilating all of mankind. (For those of you who are curious, said backpack would be packed with protein bars, water, and bandaids. I couldn't think of anything else.) When I woke up in the morning, the survival backpack seemed stupid, but the fact that the movie freaked me out remained.

I really don't want to give anything away — I was surprised many times during the film, and I want you, dear reader, to be taken aback as well. I will say that even though Tom Cruise is a lunatic, he's a good actor. And even though Dakota Fanning is probably a spoiled brat, she's a good little actress. And Tim Robbins? As always, super good.

The story was right up my alley — freaky, involves aliens, some teenage angst — I just wouldn't want it to ever greet me in reality. The ending, by the way and IMHO, needed some work, as it was loophole-esque. But again, I don't want to get into it too much! Email me once you've seen it with your opinion on the ending — did Spielberg wimp out?