We went to the drive in again last night. It's the last such theater in our area, one of the only ones in Northern California, and I'm glad we live close enough to it to make a last minute decision possible. So, off we went to see Toy Story 3 on a warm Saturday night in the middle of a three-day weekend. We found a cozy spot at the back, far enough behind the countless minivans to actually allow us in our average-height sedan to see all of the screen. We rolled down the windows and opened the sunroof, popped the top on a can of soda and settled in for the evening. Adam played in the backseat, watching some kids bounce a ball back and forth behind our car, until finally settling down on his blanket and sleeping, well, like a baby. Ahh, suburbia. Nice.
TOY STORY 3
I assume you know the fundamentals of Toy Story by now: Andy has a bunch of beloved toys, led by cowboy Woody and astronaut Buzz Lightyear, and these toys love Andy. Alas, the toys have had it rough these past few years, dwindling in numbers and cooped up in a toy chest as the boy grew to be a young man. Now Andy is headed off to college and the toys begin to look for new play outlets. They eventually end up at a daycare center, where the environment shifts from dreamy to worst nightmare real fast. And so they attempt a daring escape in order to return to Andy's, where they figure waiting in the attic is better than being destroyed.
I've glossed over a lot of details, but you get the idea. Like all other Pixar films, Toy Story 3 is charming, entertaining, has humor for kids and adults alike, and feels as nice as a warm fire on a cold day. The story is solid from beginning to end, and the ending is perfect. I've yet to meet anyone who has not gotten teary eyed (go ahead, try not to be moved). Heartily recommended to all ages.
THE A-TEAM
Whereas Toy Story 3 made me teary eyed over its sweetness and sensitivity and lovability, the second feature of our night made me want to cry for completely different reasons. I should begin by saying I was never a viewer of the tv show The A-Team. I knew its cast, I vaguely understood it was a bunch of renegade problem solvers, and I knew they rode around in a black van or a helicopter piloted by a crazy guy. But I never had a desire to watch the show when it aired in the 80s or ever since. This should have been enough to convince me to choose something else as the follow up to our drive in experience. But no, I was swayed by reviews and comments that the movie was "a lot of fun," a summer/buddy/action movie. I don't often object to such a combo, and "fun" sounded, well, fun to me. After the fact, David said he didn't know why I had chosen it. Oh well. I'm not sure I should review this movie (can you tell I'm not a fan?), but I'll try to be fair.
A foursome of Army Rangers realize their combined talent for fixing sticky situations, and become a strategically used military team. They get drawn into a search for missing money-printing plates in Iraq, which they end up losing in a mission that goes out of control. They are court martialed, dishonorably discharged, and imprisoned. In order to clear their names, they decide to find these plates. But first, they have to break out of prison, locate the person suspected of having taken the plates, and then get them to someone who has enough clout to remove the charges against them.
This sounds like a much better movie than the one I saw. In reality, the film moved jerkily from one wacky situation to the next, with actors pantomiming original characters (especially Liam Neeson as the leader) and spouting ridiculous snippets of dialogue. The cast has potential (though Quinton Jackson as Baracus can't hold a candle to Mr T in that role), the basic plot is more complex than it needed to be (an entire, very fun, movie could have been spent on bringing the team together, and there are some cute/funny moments (Sharlto Copley as Murdock is by far the most entertaining of the bunch, no the only entertaining character, but still very good). Alas, much of this movie felt like a wasted opportunity.
My final analysis: the script is atrocious, the shifts from one scene to the next are inexcusably poor, much of the plot and related dialogue is offensively dumb, and the pacing makes me think a 10-year old boy was in charge. Which is precisely who I think this movie is targeted at, so maybe the film-makers achieved their goal. I was disappointed and disgruntled halfway through the movie, and couldn't turn the car on fast enough when it ended. Need I say...I do not recommend this movie, unless, of course, you are an anti-communicative, girls-are-yucky, explosions-are-cool, 10-year old boy (at heart).
July 04, 2010
July 02, 2010
Home is where the heart is
Maybe you've lost track of how many times we move or put offers on houses and whatnot (for the record, we have shared 8 residences, and had more than twice that many in our lifetimes otherwise). Maybe you heard we were in negotiations for a house up in Belmont this past March, then last month we put an offer on a house going through a probate sale. We like where we live at present, but it has always been seen as a California-starter home for us, one we were so pleased to share with Verl, but which we're now ready to move on from. Over the years of pseudo-househunting, we've harborbed no illusions about finding our "dream house", but we do hold out hopes of at least finding something we would be happy to settle down in (buying an adorable house in Southeast Texas didn't count as settling down, since we knew it was short term).
So maybe you'll be interested to read that we seem to have finally been successful in buying a house we could live in for a long while. This morning we heard that our bid--on a 3 bedroom, 2 bath, 1840 square foot, turnkey house in Sunnyvale--was the winning and final one. Now we just need to go through the escrow period, finalize some fixes, and move in. Voila! Twenty years of being together and it looks like we're finally going to settle down.
David looks forward to being moved in, not moving again for a long time, and getting rid of a lot of our "crap". Those all sound good to me, but I also look forward to having a dedicated space for Adam to play in, a kitchen we can unpack all of our dishes and appliances into, and a space in which to once more allow easy access to our (greatly reduced) personal library. We'll live with the downsides--the freeway is on the other side of a creek behind the property, the laundry is in the garage, and the kitchen is fairly small and closed in). On the plus side, the family room and living room are large, rooms are well laid out, there is a 20'x20' enclosed patio room, baths and kitchen are all updated, and there's ample parking (parties are definitely in our future).
I will miss the swimming pool and vast lawns at our Los Gatos Village complex, and the assorted places we've grown to enjoy in this area (although being 11 miles north on highway 85, it's not like we're moving to another planet, and it's not as if we've not spent lots of time in and around Sunnyvale these past 20 years). I do feel a wee bit odd about moving back to Sunnyvale, after now spending more than half my life out of it; there is a part of me that feels I ought to have grown out of my hometown. But there's a bigger part of me that is deeply content with the idea of reconnecting with all that the place I grew up in has to offer and having Adam grow up in it too, albeit in his own way.
Cross your fingers that all goes well between now and the end of escrow (we don't foresee any problems, but of course your good thoughts are welcome). We hope you will come visit us when you're in the area. And if you are willing to help, such as with a bit of painting (Adam's room needs to be personalized, don't you agree?) or packing/unpacking, we would love your assistance. We hope to begin the moving process as soon as July 17. I'll send a more formal change of address and all that after the whole thing is final.
PS One lesson I learned from our dealings with a probate sale: If you haven't done so yet/recently, go right now and write/update your will. Seriously.
So maybe you'll be interested to read that we seem to have finally been successful in buying a house we could live in for a long while. This morning we heard that our bid--on a 3 bedroom, 2 bath, 1840 square foot, turnkey house in Sunnyvale--was the winning and final one. Now we just need to go through the escrow period, finalize some fixes, and move in. Voila! Twenty years of being together and it looks like we're finally going to settle down.
David looks forward to being moved in, not moving again for a long time, and getting rid of a lot of our "crap". Those all sound good to me, but I also look forward to having a dedicated space for Adam to play in, a kitchen we can unpack all of our dishes and appliances into, and a space in which to once more allow easy access to our (greatly reduced) personal library. We'll live with the downsides--the freeway is on the other side of a creek behind the property, the laundry is in the garage, and the kitchen is fairly small and closed in). On the plus side, the family room and living room are large, rooms are well laid out, there is a 20'x20' enclosed patio room, baths and kitchen are all updated, and there's ample parking (parties are definitely in our future).
I will miss the swimming pool and vast lawns at our Los Gatos Village complex, and the assorted places we've grown to enjoy in this area (although being 11 miles north on highway 85, it's not like we're moving to another planet, and it's not as if we've not spent lots of time in and around Sunnyvale these past 20 years). I do feel a wee bit odd about moving back to Sunnyvale, after now spending more than half my life out of it; there is a part of me that feels I ought to have grown out of my hometown. But there's a bigger part of me that is deeply content with the idea of reconnecting with all that the place I grew up in has to offer and having Adam grow up in it too, albeit in his own way.
Cross your fingers that all goes well between now and the end of escrow (we don't foresee any problems, but of course your good thoughts are welcome). We hope you will come visit us when you're in the area. And if you are willing to help, such as with a bit of painting (Adam's room needs to be personalized, don't you agree?) or packing/unpacking, we would love your assistance. We hope to begin the moving process as soon as July 17. I'll send a more formal change of address and all that after the whole thing is final.
PS One lesson I learned from our dealings with a probate sale: If you haven't done so yet/recently, go right now and write/update your will. Seriously.
May 20, 2010
It's a mystery
Each night before sleep I read a bit to clear my head. Most of my reading comes from a local library, one of my favorite places on earth. The world and everything in it seems accessible and interesting at a good library. The trouble with libraries, however, is that it's a tough place to find something you'll enjoy at random. So in my dedicated library bag I keep a running list of books I've heard about elsewhere, authors I've liked in the past, and topics I want to explore further. Then I hit the stacks. How much better can an hour be spent than perusing books, I ask you. Okay, don't answer that.
My point is, I make my way through one novel at a time, one chapter (or two) a day, and it adds up. When asked recently if I'd read anything good lately, I had a bevy of replies. A few I've mentioned here previously (my reading posts), but not enough. I'm here today partly to remind myself years later of books I already read before I check them out again (I'm talking to you, Girl's Guide), and partly to share my recommendations in hopes of spreading some reading joy.
I recommend (and loan out) Kathryn Stockett's Jim Crow-South novel The Help
to everyone, though I've discovered it's too intense a subject for a few people. The three narrators (two black maids and a younger white woman who delves into her hometown's segregationist practices) take a bit of getting used to, but stick with it and you'll be rewarded with wonderfully authentic voices, moving stories, and a vivid history lesson no American should forget. I especially loved the Afterword by the author, in which she describes her own relationship history with her family's black maid. Touching, sad, important, personal.
It seems like I've always got one or two "serious" books on my bedside table, waiting for me to be in a contemplative mood. Don't worry, I won't dig out the titles at the moment, if for no other reason than that I don't have a good track record of recommending such books to others. (Avoid religion and politics, isn't that rule one of chitchat?)
Switching to the frivolous side of reading, I do enjoy a bit of good chick lit from time to time, but recognize that chick lit is not to everyone's tastes. Sophie Kinsella's Twenties Girl
is cute, but not very memorable. I've not even requested Emily Giffin's latest, Heart of the Matter
, from the library, because it looks to confirm my apathetic feelings towards her books since reading her stellar debut novel, Something Borrowed
.
By far the bulk of my casual reading this past year has been mysteries. I wrote previously about the international phenomenon, the Millenium trilogy
, which isn't so much a mystery series as one very long novel of intrigue and character studies. Replete with violence and minutiae, that is not for everyone. But I've got a few other more classic mysteries that I can recommend to any reader.
Mistress of the Art of Death is the first in a series of medieval forensics novels by Ariana Franklin. Adelia, the central character, is the modern day equivalent of a medical examiner, brought to England to help King Henry II solve a sensitive crime and thereby calm the local populace. The mystery aspect of the story is well done, with a wide cast of suspicious characters. The crimes are a bit gruesome, but I skim those descriptions and feel I miss nothing of the story development. There's something of a love interest for Adelia, though this enters the plot late and is not dwelled upon. What's most interesting about this story, I thought, is the incorporation of what seems to be well researched historical detail. All aspects of everyday life are touched upon, as are customs and language. I love that kind of thing. Right now I'm reading the second book, The Serpent's Tale
, which is keeping my attention. After that, there are three more books featuring Adelia. Hopefully the plots remain appealing and the mysteries intriguing. I'll let you know.
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie is the first of a very promising new series of mystery novels by Alan Bradley. It centers on an adolescent girl in post-War England who is obsessed with poisons and extremely well versed in chemistry. Alas Flavia de Luce has no one to temper her eccentricities. Her father is a stoic widower, and her two older sisters focus on relationships and music, far outside Flavia's realm. When Flavia becomes involved in a murder investigation, she gets in over her head, but of course ends up solving the crime before the police do. The story is told from Flavia's perspective, demonstrating her blend of sophisticated insight and childish views. It's a charming book, and one I recommend to mystery fans and historical fiction fans alike. The next book, The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag, came out recently and I've not read it, but again, I am hopeful that the quality is maintained.
A cute book I'd recommend to any reader is another unusual-perspective mystery novel, Dog On It
. This is the first in yet another new series, the Chet and Bernie mysteries. In this case, the narrator is...wait for it...a dog. I can't tell you exactly why it works so well, but I can simply tell you it does. The author has done a great job of viewing a private detective's work through a dog's eyes. A rather insightful and well behaved dog, but a dog nonetheless. The mystery part of the story is secondary to the interactions of dog and human.
Speaking of mystery series, and the potential for storylines to get iffy after a while, I will recommend--with qualifications--the Stephanie Plum books by Janet Evanovich. I read the first one years ago, but I think I'd still recommend it to vacation readers. Stephanie is a bounty hunter, a profession she took on as last resort when she lost her job. She's also an accident-prone Jersey girl involved with two different guys, cop Joe Morelli, and mysterious fellow bounty hunter, Ranger. The first book, One for the Money
, shows Stephanie as she learns her job and becomes reaquainted with Joe; it's fast paced, filled with oddball characters, and plain old lighthearted (adult) fun. A few of the other books, especially early on, are similarly amusing. But lately the stretching out of Stephanie's perpetual dilemma choosing between Joe and Ranger, and the repetitiveness of cases and improbable problems she encounters have grown tiresome. Still, I do hold out hope, like so many other readers who've been sucked into this series, that Stephanie will one day move on. At last count there were 15 published novels in the regular series, plus three supplementary stories, and the 16th book comes out next month. There's also reportedly a movie in the works. I'm sure I'll have an opinion when that arrives. Til then, happy reading.
My point is, I make my way through one novel at a time, one chapter (or two) a day, and it adds up. When asked recently if I'd read anything good lately, I had a bevy of replies. A few I've mentioned here previously (my reading posts), but not enough. I'm here today partly to remind myself years later of books I already read before I check them out again (I'm talking to you, Girl's Guide), and partly to share my recommendations in hopes of spreading some reading joy.
I recommend (and loan out) Kathryn Stockett's Jim Crow-South novel The Help
to everyone, though I've discovered it's too intense a subject for a few people. The three narrators (two black maids and a younger white woman who delves into her hometown's segregationist practices) take a bit of getting used to, but stick with it and you'll be rewarded with wonderfully authentic voices, moving stories, and a vivid history lesson no American should forget. I especially loved the Afterword by the author, in which she describes her own relationship history with her family's black maid. Touching, sad, important, personal.It seems like I've always got one or two "serious" books on my bedside table, waiting for me to be in a contemplative mood. Don't worry, I won't dig out the titles at the moment, if for no other reason than that I don't have a good track record of recommending such books to others. (Avoid religion and politics, isn't that rule one of chitchat?)
Switching to the frivolous side of reading, I do enjoy a bit of good chick lit from time to time, but recognize that chick lit is not to everyone's tastes. Sophie Kinsella's Twenties Girl
is cute, but not very memorable. I've not even requested Emily Giffin's latest, Heart of the Matter, from the library, because it looks to confirm my apathetic feelings towards her books since reading her stellar debut novel, Something Borrowed.By far the bulk of my casual reading this past year has been mysteries. I wrote previously about the international phenomenon, the Millenium trilogy
, which isn't so much a mystery series as one very long novel of intrigue and character studies. Replete with violence and minutiae, that is not for everyone. But I've got a few other more classic mysteries that I can recommend to any reader.Mistress of the Art of Death is the first in a series of medieval forensics novels by Ariana Franklin. Adelia, the central character, is the modern day equivalent of a medical examiner, brought to England to help King Henry II solve a sensitive crime and thereby calm the local populace. The mystery aspect of the story is well done, with a wide cast of suspicious characters. The crimes are a bit gruesome, but I skim those descriptions and feel I miss nothing of the story development. There's something of a love interest for Adelia, though this enters the plot late and is not dwelled upon. What's most interesting about this story, I thought, is the incorporation of what seems to be well researched historical detail. All aspects of everyday life are touched upon, as are customs and language. I love that kind of thing. Right now I'm reading the second book, The Serpent's Tale
, which is keeping my attention. After that, there are three more books featuring Adelia. Hopefully the plots remain appealing and the mysteries intriguing. I'll let you know.The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie is the first of a very promising new series of mystery novels by Alan Bradley. It centers on an adolescent girl in post-War England who is obsessed with poisons and extremely well versed in chemistry. Alas Flavia de Luce has no one to temper her eccentricities. Her father is a stoic widower, and her two older sisters focus on relationships and music, far outside Flavia's realm. When Flavia becomes involved in a murder investigation, she gets in over her head, but of course ends up solving the crime before the police do. The story is told from Flavia's perspective, demonstrating her blend of sophisticated insight and childish views. It's a charming book, and one I recommend to mystery fans and historical fiction fans alike. The next book, The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag, came out recently and I've not read it, but again, I am hopeful that the quality is maintained.
A cute book I'd recommend to any reader is another unusual-perspective mystery novel, Dog On It
. This is the first in yet another new series, the Chet and Bernie mysteries. In this case, the narrator is...wait for it...a dog. I can't tell you exactly why it works so well, but I can simply tell you it does. The author has done a great job of viewing a private detective's work through a dog's eyes. A rather insightful and well behaved dog, but a dog nonetheless. The mystery part of the story is secondary to the interactions of dog and human. Speaking of mystery series, and the potential for storylines to get iffy after a while, I will recommend--with qualifications--the Stephanie Plum books by Janet Evanovich. I read the first one years ago, but I think I'd still recommend it to vacation readers. Stephanie is a bounty hunter, a profession she took on as last resort when she lost her job. She's also an accident-prone Jersey girl involved with two different guys, cop Joe Morelli, and mysterious fellow bounty hunter, Ranger. The first book, One for the Money
, shows Stephanie as she learns her job and becomes reaquainted with Joe; it's fast paced, filled with oddball characters, and plain old lighthearted (adult) fun. A few of the other books, especially early on, are similarly amusing. But lately the stretching out of Stephanie's perpetual dilemma choosing between Joe and Ranger, and the repetitiveness of cases and improbable problems she encounters have grown tiresome. Still, I do hold out hope, like so many other readers who've been sucked into this series, that Stephanie will one day move on. At last count there were 15 published novels in the regular series, plus three supplementary stories, and the 16th book comes out next month. There's also reportedly a movie in the works. I'm sure I'll have an opinion when that arrives. Til then, happy reading.
Selfishness
Ever have one of those days where things just irk you? That's today for me. And in an effort to rid my brain of some of the more vexing thoughts occupying it before I head off for my night's rest, I thought I'd vent a little. Hmm, where to begin...
PS I'm feeling very Notes to Myself
right now. It's a beautiful book about self reflection, relationships, acceptance, and forgiveness. I recommend it to everyone.
- Okay, this is not a new one, and I'm not sure why it's bugging me so right now, except that I continue to hear and see evidence that there are a lot of people who watch or at least lend credence to the need for and value of of 24-hour news. In fact, I think nothing could be further from the truth. I'm sick of the news networks'--especially Fox News channel's--irresponsible fear mongering and non-existent fact checking. I hate the stupid teasers that local, national and 24-hour news programs use to activate viewers' imaginations in negative ways, especially when the actual story is more often than not completely harmless or relevant for such a small portion of the population as to be irrelevant as a mass communication. Why?! What earthly purpose could be served by luring viewers into false impressions, scaring them, or decontextualizing and oversimplifying things to the point of making the information valueless?
- I think the greediness of media executives has completely blinded them to the value of using communications and entertainment power for good not evil, and thus they act in ways that make themselves wealthier in dollars, and poorer in spirit. how's the saying go, money is the root of all evil? There's much truth in that.
- I'm also a bit peeved about rampant short-term thinking, mindless consumerism, ignorance, and gullibility (and the systems that essentially maintain these aspects of society). These are ongoing frustrations, probably hard wired in me by this point, and only on occasion do they make me want to give all my belongings away and remove myself and family from society.
- I know this may seem ironic coming from a blog entitled "It's all about ME", but I am so *%&#ing sick of rampant self-centeredness. Every day I observe people thinking they are the exception to the rule. It's a normal facet of human behavior that has become a dominant and increasingly acceptable way of life. I don't like it.
- I don't like hatred, excess, abuse, or any so-called "necessary evil." Alas, I did not say I never engage in any of these. ;)
- It's hard to look out for my neighbor as myself when I spend most of my time looking out for myself. How often do I tell myself it's okay to take the shortcut, or break the rule, simply because it's the easy way out, and if I play the game right no one else will ever know or be harmed by it. But this is just playing the odds, and in the game of life I will on occasion lose. Add up all the "me"s in the world, and you've got a whole lot of gambling going on each day.
- As I maintain faith that there's always tomorrow, my todays--or those of my neighbors--may be getting suckier and suckier. And on a grand scale, lots of us putting off until tomorrow what we don't want to do today undoubtedly creates a to-do list that is unfinishable by mortal man. So I tell myself, "It's okay, someone else will take care of it," just so I can sleep at night.
- I am an unapologetically practical optimist.
- I wonder at what point the hope I hold out for tomorrow is just propping up my complacency today and contributing in a roundabout way to the suckiness I feel right now. Fear, isolation, anger. Wash, rinse, repeat.
- Sometimes I act selfishly because I believe it's for the best, but upon further reflection I realize it was just laziness. Like every other person on the planet, I struggle with gaps between intention and action, beliefs and practices.
- I adore and am uplifted by the teachings of Martin Luther King Jr. I fantasize about incorporating his writings in a national curriculum for K-12 education. First, we need a national curriculum (and not just so-called standards).
- Have I mentioned that I believe the teaching of anger management principles to the population at large ought to be a major public health initiative? I think anger is a vastly under-discussed problem, and one whose negative consequences are far reaching. (It's a long read, but this is a great overview of the subject.)
- The average adult apparently does not get enough sleep to perform their best during the day. I know how cranky I am when I'm tired, and I know how my interactions with another sleep-deprived person go (aka not very well). And I know how much more manageable my day's chores seem after a good night's rest (if not enthusiastic, I am at least free of one excuse to avoid doing what I know I must). Hmm, is it possible that the treatment for many of society's ills is as simple as an enforced bedtime?
PS I'm feeling very Notes to Myself
right now. It's a beautiful book about self reflection, relationships, acceptance, and forgiveness. I recommend it to everyone.
May 08, 2010
The Girl...
Sometimes I stumble upon popular phenomena. This happened to me when I caught the series premieres of shows like Survivor, Lost
, and Mad Men
, only to become an evangelist for each on its own merits. It happened when I picked up Outlander
by Diana Gabaldon and got sucked into this fabulous romantic saga of time travel and Scottish history (though I'm not a fan of most of its sequels). And it's happening in real estate lately. A few weeks ago we went to an open house for a nice but un-updated place in Redwood City; I was thinking seriously about it the next day, when David called to report that someone had that morning put in an offer and been accepted.
These are not random coincidences, I realize. Great minds think alike, good products gain attention, and my tastes are not so unique as to be without peers. Still I am always pleased to learn I've become interested in something that a lot of other people are also interested in. It's nice to know I'm not alone in the world. :)
The latest example is my fascination with the Swedish crime fiction trilogy Millenium. Each title (in English) begins The Girl... (the first is The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
). The two main characters--a middle aged male investigative reporter and a diminutive young female computer hacker with a lot of issues--cross paths and end up working together to solve a decades old crime, but they are not a couple. It's a pretty cynical tale, the author does not shy from incorporating sex, and the beginning is a confusing mix of unfamiliar Swedish names, places and events. But all that aside, for some of us readers it also happens to be a wildly compelling read.
These books are not unknown (on my recent vacation, four of us were reading the second book). They are bestsellers around the world, and have already been turned into a trio of films in Sweden (an indication of the popularity there that this happened so soon, considering the last of the books hasn't even been released in the US yet). Here in the US, the first book has been on the New York Times bestseller list for a year, in spite of mixed reviews. People complain that the author included an inordinate amount of extraneous detail. There are few if any committed healthy relationships to savor within the cast. And there's violence, much of it sexual in nature, which understandably turns many readers off.
Even with all these detractors, I've gotten really involved in the series, and sought out the movie. I wanted visuals and was curious how the book would translate to film. What I found was that the filmmakers did an excellent job of distilling the essence of the plot, maintaining background detail but zeroing in on the action-packed storyline. What I had not been prepared for, in my detail-oriented reading haze, was that that essence was so very, very dark. All that being said, here's my review of the film.
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
This briskly paced, 2-and-a-half hour thriller tells the story of Mikael Blomquist, an investigative journalist hired, after losing a well publicized libel case, to look into the disappearance of a young woman 40 years earlier. Mikael is cyber-tracked along the way by a young female hacker, Lisbeth Salander, who was employed initially by a security firm to gather background on him. She is a top-notch researcher, but utterly lacking in social skills and niceties. As a result of childhood trauma, Lisbeth is a ward of the state, even at age 24, and under the nominal control of an unscrupulous guardian. While Lisbeth deals with her guardian, she monitors with curiosity what Mikael is working on and ends up decoding a key part of the evidence. After she shares what she found, Mikael enlists her help, and the two work together to unravel an increasingly bizarre mystery.
At first the rhythm of the Swedish dialogue (and occasionally hard to read white subtitles) were distracting. And the movie does not shy from disturbing scenes of sexual violence that provide a basis for key parts of the plot (the Swedish title translates as "Men Who Hate Women"). But it's a well done thriller, with good bursts of action and tension, a few twists, and a good cast. Other readers will similarly appreciate the film. The movie is a faithful adaptation of the book, and the changes make sense. The movie also stands alone quite well, though I think it would appeal only to those with an appetite for a dark thriller.
, and Mad Men, only to become an evangelist for each on its own merits. It happened when I picked up Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and got sucked into this fabulous romantic saga of time travel and Scottish history (though I'm not a fan of most of its sequels). And it's happening in real estate lately. A few weeks ago we went to an open house for a nice but un-updated place in Redwood City; I was thinking seriously about it the next day, when David called to report that someone had that morning put in an offer and been accepted.These are not random coincidences, I realize. Great minds think alike, good products gain attention, and my tastes are not so unique as to be without peers. Still I am always pleased to learn I've become interested in something that a lot of other people are also interested in. It's nice to know I'm not alone in the world. :)
The latest example is my fascination with the Swedish crime fiction trilogy Millenium. Each title (in English) begins The Girl... (the first is The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
). The two main characters--a middle aged male investigative reporter and a diminutive young female computer hacker with a lot of issues--cross paths and end up working together to solve a decades old crime, but they are not a couple. It's a pretty cynical tale, the author does not shy from incorporating sex, and the beginning is a confusing mix of unfamiliar Swedish names, places and events. But all that aside, for some of us readers it also happens to be a wildly compelling read.These books are not unknown (on my recent vacation, four of us were reading the second book). They are bestsellers around the world, and have already been turned into a trio of films in Sweden (an indication of the popularity there that this happened so soon, considering the last of the books hasn't even been released in the US yet). Here in the US, the first book has been on the New York Times bestseller list for a year, in spite of mixed reviews. People complain that the author included an inordinate amount of extraneous detail. There are few if any committed healthy relationships to savor within the cast. And there's violence, much of it sexual in nature, which understandably turns many readers off.
Even with all these detractors, I've gotten really involved in the series, and sought out the movie. I wanted visuals and was curious how the book would translate to film. What I found was that the filmmakers did an excellent job of distilling the essence of the plot, maintaining background detail but zeroing in on the action-packed storyline. What I had not been prepared for, in my detail-oriented reading haze, was that that essence was so very, very dark. All that being said, here's my review of the film.
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
This briskly paced, 2-and-a-half hour thriller tells the story of Mikael Blomquist, an investigative journalist hired, after losing a well publicized libel case, to look into the disappearance of a young woman 40 years earlier. Mikael is cyber-tracked along the way by a young female hacker, Lisbeth Salander, who was employed initially by a security firm to gather background on him. She is a top-notch researcher, but utterly lacking in social skills and niceties. As a result of childhood trauma, Lisbeth is a ward of the state, even at age 24, and under the nominal control of an unscrupulous guardian. While Lisbeth deals with her guardian, she monitors with curiosity what Mikael is working on and ends up decoding a key part of the evidence. After she shares what she found, Mikael enlists her help, and the two work together to unravel an increasingly bizarre mystery.
At first the rhythm of the Swedish dialogue (and occasionally hard to read white subtitles) were distracting. And the movie does not shy from disturbing scenes of sexual violence that provide a basis for key parts of the plot (the Swedish title translates as "Men Who Hate Women"). But it's a well done thriller, with good bursts of action and tension, a few twists, and a good cast. Other readers will similarly appreciate the film. The movie is a faithful adaptation of the book, and the changes make sense. The movie also stands alone quite well, though I think it would appeal only to those with an appetite for a dark thriller.
March 27, 2010
Drive In
Yikes, I've been neglecting my poor blog. I'd like to think it's because I've been doing so much interesting stuff that I have no time to sit and record my thoughts, but one glance at my facebook page or twitter feed will show you this ain't true. Of course a closer look at the piecemeal comments and activities there will show why I might not be blogging as much. Just as I feel I am growing more light-hearted with age, I am also growing more light-brained. I prefer not to think about it, and thus my blog suffers. Sorry, little bloggy. But the event that will always trigger a return to my blog has occurred, and this brings me to why I am here today. That's right, I went to see a movie. (Cue dramatic swell of music.)
HOT TUB TIME MACHINE
The ads for this movie tantalized me back during the Olympics. I'm a sucker for fun John Cusack movies, and throwbacks to the 80s only entice me further. David did not understand my fascination with such a raunchy mindless movie (he was concerned for my pleasure, not his--isn't that sweet?), but still he agreed to accompany me to the drive-in on the film's opening night. With such lofty expectations (maybe lofty isn't the right word) the movie could hardly excel in my final estimation, and indeed it did not. However, it wasn't a waste of time.
Hot Tub Time Machine centers on a trio of middle aged men who have grown apart since their glory days as debaucherous youths. Now facing the sad realities of adult life (lost dreams, shattered marriages, etc) they are thrown together for a weekend and decide to make the most of it at a ski resort they used to frequent. (Inexplicably) joining them is one of their nephews.
Cusack is the nominal star, but his character Adam is fairly flat, and he virtually phones in the performance (I'm excited to finally use that phrase). Clark Duke is amusing as Adam's nephew Jacob, played as the modest-quippy-geek type Duke is building a career of (check him out on ABC Family's Greek or the deadpan online show Clark and Michael). Craig Robinson plays Nick, a former singer now married and working for a dog care business. And the most outrageous--and in this case funniest--of the characters is Lou, played by The Daily Show's hilarious Rob Corddry. Lou is a foul mouthed, hard drinking, insecure man-child whose antics are at the center of the laugh-out-loud moments of the movie.
The plot barely holds together and centers on a hot tub that takes the guys back to the mid 1980s, where they must recreate what turned out for some to be a pivotal night of relationship letdowns and inappropriate sex. As that combo implies, the movie never quite figures out whether it's trying for heart or pure outrageousness. Like the 80s teen sex movies it attempts to harken back to, HTTM at its best succeeds only on a sophomoric level, though it's sometimes a very funny level. So the movie didn't live up to my hype. But it delivered laughs, had a good soundtrack, and kept me awake on a Friday night. No need to relive the night, but I certainly won't regret it either.
REMEMBER ME
First a bit of explanation...
My intention had been to switch venues in order to watch When In Rome instead of She's Out of My League, which was what was paired with Hot Tub Time Machine as a second feature. Thus we had to relocate within the drive-in during intermission. I had scoped out the other screens to see where The Bounty Hunter was playing, which I thought was paired with When In Rome. Logical, right? So we maneuver, find a space, and await a Kristen Bell-Josh Duhamel fluff movie. This would all be a lot easier to do if, a) I could recall from one visit to the next how best to determine what is playing with what at the local drive-in, or b) the 6-screen outdoor theater were not so elaborately walled off and riddled with oddly parked cars and bits of tire-threatening flea market detritus. Five minutes into the movie we "chose"--after a dark slow moving murder scene unfolded without titles (maybe I missed them?)--I turned to David and said, "This doesn't seem like the start of a romantic comedy." Boy was I right.
So I didn't intend to see what I ended up watching, and--once I'd figured out what it was--knew nothing about the film other than the names of its stars (Robert Pattinson, the British actor who is so pretty and square jawed as to be occasionally distracting, and Emilie de Ravin, the Australian actress who plays Claire on the tv show Lost). Indeed, I spent a full quarter of an hour contemplating how we could politely move our car to the opposite end of the complex, where I now saw brightly colored scenery at the start of the lighthearted rom-com I'd expected to settle into. This was not helped by the quiet, deliberate pace of Remember Me (a title I had to look up after we got home). But I gotta say, in the end I actually liked this movie.
Remember Me is about two damaged young people who get together under somewhat false pretenses and then have to deal with their family traumas (past and present). There's basically no soundtrack, the scenery is nothing special, and the various foreign actors playing New Yorkers with accents can be irritatingly distracting (to me, although maybe you don't care). But just let yourself sit and watch and wait, and the movie delivers. I think anyone who knows too many details of the story would be very disappointed, but with an open mind and a patient mood you might find you like this movie too. Read nothing more about it, just check it out. How's that for a rousing endorsement?
HOT TUB TIME MACHINE
The ads for this movie tantalized me back during the Olympics. I'm a sucker for fun John Cusack movies, and throwbacks to the 80s only entice me further. David did not understand my fascination with such a raunchy mindless movie (he was concerned for my pleasure, not his--isn't that sweet?), but still he agreed to accompany me to the drive-in on the film's opening night. With such lofty expectations (maybe lofty isn't the right word) the movie could hardly excel in my final estimation, and indeed it did not. However, it wasn't a waste of time.
Hot Tub Time Machine centers on a trio of middle aged men who have grown apart since their glory days as debaucherous youths. Now facing the sad realities of adult life (lost dreams, shattered marriages, etc) they are thrown together for a weekend and decide to make the most of it at a ski resort they used to frequent. (Inexplicably) joining them is one of their nephews.
Cusack is the nominal star, but his character Adam is fairly flat, and he virtually phones in the performance (I'm excited to finally use that phrase). Clark Duke is amusing as Adam's nephew Jacob, played as the modest-quippy-geek type Duke is building a career of (check him out on ABC Family's Greek or the deadpan online show Clark and Michael). Craig Robinson plays Nick, a former singer now married and working for a dog care business. And the most outrageous--and in this case funniest--of the characters is Lou, played by The Daily Show's hilarious Rob Corddry. Lou is a foul mouthed, hard drinking, insecure man-child whose antics are at the center of the laugh-out-loud moments of the movie.
The plot barely holds together and centers on a hot tub that takes the guys back to the mid 1980s, where they must recreate what turned out for some to be a pivotal night of relationship letdowns and inappropriate sex. As that combo implies, the movie never quite figures out whether it's trying for heart or pure outrageousness. Like the 80s teen sex movies it attempts to harken back to, HTTM at its best succeeds only on a sophomoric level, though it's sometimes a very funny level. So the movie didn't live up to my hype. But it delivered laughs, had a good soundtrack, and kept me awake on a Friday night. No need to relive the night, but I certainly won't regret it either.
REMEMBER ME
First a bit of explanation...
My intention had been to switch venues in order to watch When In Rome instead of She's Out of My League, which was what was paired with Hot Tub Time Machine as a second feature. Thus we had to relocate within the drive-in during intermission. I had scoped out the other screens to see where The Bounty Hunter was playing, which I thought was paired with When In Rome. Logical, right? So we maneuver, find a space, and await a Kristen Bell-Josh Duhamel fluff movie. This would all be a lot easier to do if, a) I could recall from one visit to the next how best to determine what is playing with what at the local drive-in, or b) the 6-screen outdoor theater were not so elaborately walled off and riddled with oddly parked cars and bits of tire-threatening flea market detritus. Five minutes into the movie we "chose"--after a dark slow moving murder scene unfolded without titles (maybe I missed them?)--I turned to David and said, "This doesn't seem like the start of a romantic comedy." Boy was I right.
So I didn't intend to see what I ended up watching, and--once I'd figured out what it was--knew nothing about the film other than the names of its stars (Robert Pattinson, the British actor who is so pretty and square jawed as to be occasionally distracting, and Emilie de Ravin, the Australian actress who plays Claire on the tv show Lost). Indeed, I spent a full quarter of an hour contemplating how we could politely move our car to the opposite end of the complex, where I now saw brightly colored scenery at the start of the lighthearted rom-com I'd expected to settle into. This was not helped by the quiet, deliberate pace of Remember Me (a title I had to look up after we got home). But I gotta say, in the end I actually liked this movie.
Remember Me is about two damaged young people who get together under somewhat false pretenses and then have to deal with their family traumas (past and present). There's basically no soundtrack, the scenery is nothing special, and the various foreign actors playing New Yorkers with accents can be irritatingly distracting (to me, although maybe you don't care). But just let yourself sit and watch and wait, and the movie delivers. I think anyone who knows too many details of the story would be very disappointed, but with an open mind and a patient mood you might find you like this movie too. Read nothing more about it, just check it out. How's that for a rousing endorsement?
January 11, 2010
Close calls
Not that you asked, but...
1. I possess the power to deactivate automatic toilet flushers, albeit temporarily. At least three-quarters of the time when using a public restroom where those hands-free flushers are installed, it will not work automatically for me. I am this<---->close to taking it personally.
2. I am this<----->close to being a certifiable music hoarder. I collect any tangentially interesting digital music legally available to me, duly rate it in my iTunes, then forget it exists as I merrily collect other music. I don't believe I will ever set aside the time necessary to listen to all of this music through. And collecting more just muddles my automatic playlists and makes it harder to find that one song I really want to hear. And now that I'm thinking about it, why do I keep around songs I rate 1 or 2 stars out of 5?
For that matter why am I keeping my decades-old and rarely played lps and cassette tapes? Apart from the warmth-spreading nostalgia I feel when listening to crackles and pops on my now vintage vinyl, I'm not sure these albums hold any real value for me anymore. A sad realization that maybe I should have come to several cross country moves ago.
3. And since I brought up public bathrooms (sorry, squeamish readers)...I am this<-->close to asking perfect strangers why they flush the toilet before sitting on it. I'm not sure women do this at home, but out in public they do it a lot.
I'm not in there with them, but it's obvious they enter the stall, immediately flush it, then continue with their business. While I can come up with plausible explanations for this sort of behavior, I still think it is completely irrational. (And I'm not talking about flushing the left behind contents of a previous user; I'm talking about flushing an empty toilet in a suburban public restroom.)
WHAT exactly does flushing the toilet beforehand do for your health and hygiene? For that matter, what exactly do you think you're going to get by sitting on the average public toilet? My answer: Nothing. Others agree there's nothing, nothing, nothing to fear. Just wash your *&^%ing hands afterward, nothing fancy or obsessive required. Oh, and don't put things down on the floor of a public bathroom. I will spare you, faithful readers, the rest of my thoughts on this subject.
4. I might someday be this<--->close to being the victim of road rage at the hands of a cell phone driver whom I have gestured at repeatedly in an attempt to get them to hang up. David has forbidden me from even staring at these people while he's driving, probably an indication of the intensity of my feelings on this matter. It bugs me how many people believe they are immune to the potential power of distractability while driving. Just one of many things people think they are the exception to. Which reminds me of my 1% rule in perceptions of behavior, but that's a subject for another post.
5. I am this<------------------>close to joining a mommy group. While I think Adam would benefit from socializing with other babies, I'm not sure I'd enjoy socializing (or, to be more accurate, hanging out on the fringes) with other baby mommies/nannies. I'd enjoy the access to new acquaintances, but from what I've seen thus far this venue is going to pan out for me. Inevitably it turns to talk of the kid, and listening to conversations about kids' behavior as if it's a competition (fueled by lots of ignorance and fear) gives me ticks. Plus, and I will admit it here but nowhere else: the parents in mommy groups scare me a little.
Okay, enough sharing for one day. It's time for baby gym (I wish I was kidding, but it's really quite fun). Ta ta for now.
1. I possess the power to deactivate automatic toilet flushers, albeit temporarily. At least three-quarters of the time when using a public restroom where those hands-free flushers are installed, it will not work automatically for me. I am this<---->close to taking it personally.
2. I am this<----->close to being a certifiable music hoarder. I collect any tangentially interesting digital music legally available to me, duly rate it in my iTunes, then forget it exists as I merrily collect other music. I don't believe I will ever set aside the time necessary to listen to all of this music through. And collecting more just muddles my automatic playlists and makes it harder to find that one song I really want to hear. And now that I'm thinking about it, why do I keep around songs I rate 1 or 2 stars out of 5?
For that matter why am I keeping my decades-old and rarely played lps and cassette tapes? Apart from the warmth-spreading nostalgia I feel when listening to crackles and pops on my now vintage vinyl, I'm not sure these albums hold any real value for me anymore. A sad realization that maybe I should have come to several cross country moves ago.
3. And since I brought up public bathrooms (sorry, squeamish readers)...I am this<-->close to asking perfect strangers why they flush the toilet before sitting on it. I'm not sure women do this at home, but out in public they do it a lot.
I'm not in there with them, but it's obvious they enter the stall, immediately flush it, then continue with their business. While I can come up with plausible explanations for this sort of behavior, I still think it is completely irrational. (And I'm not talking about flushing the left behind contents of a previous user; I'm talking about flushing an empty toilet in a suburban public restroom.)
WHAT exactly does flushing the toilet beforehand do for your health and hygiene? For that matter, what exactly do you think you're going to get by sitting on the average public toilet? My answer: Nothing. Others agree there's nothing, nothing, nothing to fear. Just wash your *&^%ing hands afterward, nothing fancy or obsessive required. Oh, and don't put things down on the floor of a public bathroom. I will spare you, faithful readers, the rest of my thoughts on this subject.
4. I might someday be this<--->close to being the victim of road rage at the hands of a cell phone driver whom I have gestured at repeatedly in an attempt to get them to hang up. David has forbidden me from even staring at these people while he's driving, probably an indication of the intensity of my feelings on this matter. It bugs me how many people believe they are immune to the potential power of distractability while driving. Just one of many things people think they are the exception to. Which reminds me of my 1% rule in perceptions of behavior, but that's a subject for another post.
5. I am this<------------------>close to joining a mommy group. While I think Adam would benefit from socializing with other babies, I'm not sure I'd enjoy socializing (or, to be more accurate, hanging out on the fringes) with other baby mommies/nannies. I'd enjoy the access to new acquaintances, but from what I've seen thus far this venue is going to pan out for me. Inevitably it turns to talk of the kid, and listening to conversations about kids' behavior as if it's a competition (fueled by lots of ignorance and fear) gives me ticks. Plus, and I will admit it here but nowhere else: the parents in mommy groups scare me a little.
Okay, enough sharing for one day. It's time for baby gym (I wish I was kidding, but it's really quite fun). Ta ta for now.
Entertain me
I failed to report on our third, fourth, etc monitor-free Monday evening activities because, well, we cheated one week (I felt naughty, but I think David felt nary a twinge of regret) and have done nothing worth reporting otherwise (read, clean up, read some more--this new policy is doing wonders for our periodical consumption). As you have no doubt deduced, monitor-free Mondays are quiet and dull. Still, this is no excuse for not following up on my pledge to report weekly on this personal experiment. As the year waxes and wanes I hope to remain faithful, no matter how mundane those few hours or subsequent reports are.
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