Inside Llewyn Davis (Creative Blog Title, I Know)

I arrived in the movie theater to see the Cohen brother's most recent film, Inside Llewyn Davis, as would an over-the-top, obnoxious sports fan stepping into the stadium to watch their favorite team play. I donned my imaginary foam finger and a flyer saying "go, Joel and Ethan!" I wanted to like the film so  badly that I broke my one moviegoing rule- have bare minimum expectations.

I blame the overly-affective marketing. The trailers showcased the best elements of the movie, including the most gorgeous song on the soundtrack (a beautiful version of "Fare Thee Well" written by Bob Dylan and preformed by Oscar Isaac and Marcus Mumford). I hold this song in a special place in my heart, as it helped me greatly in the coping of the recent loss of my grandfather. That being said, the rest of the songs fell far short of the quality of the previously mentioned tune (in my oh-so-humble opinion, anyways).

Brief plot summary: (trust me, it will be as there's not much to tell) Llewyn Davis lives in New York, bouncing from couch to couch as he doesn't have a place of his own as a struggling folk musician. He is attempting to break out as a solo artist but with no success. Eventually he toys with the idea of returning to work as a fisherman and give up his musical aspirations. He also finds out some surprising news from a special lady in his life and tries to deal with that as well. That's the basic recap.

I love the Cohen Brothers almost as much as I love Wes Anderson, and that's a lot of love. But I don't think they filled their own legendary shoes this time around. Generally, the public go to see films to escape and live vicariously through the adventures of others. This filmgoing experience simply made me never want to live the life of a struggling folk musician. Though many of the Cohen brother's films tag along at a slow pace (especially in comparison to the GO, GO, GO high speed stockpile of Hollywood movies today) this one was almost unbearably slow- we're talking snail gliding at its most leisurely pace through molasses. I seldom do this, but during Llewyn Davis I kept trying to catch the light at just the right angle on my watch to see how much time had passed and about how much was left to go. Not exactly what I look for as a filmgoer.

The plot had more loose ends than an unraveling sweater, and consisted of a whole lot of, well, absolutely nothing happening. I kept waiting for the slightest conflict or even plot twist, to no avail. I take that back- there were some rifts in the plot- maybe the issue was too many unresolved conflicts. Will Llewyn succeed in the music world? Will his one night stand have his child? Will he ever decide to get his own feline companion? Who knows.

My favorite cast member

Yet comedic moments and other saving graces made cameos throughout the story- I laughed out loud several times (except at the jokes from the trailer I had seen dozens of times) and fell quickly in love with the feline star of the film. Yet even in other Cohen brothers films that on the surface appear to be about "nothing" I always feel I get something out of them. I'm still not sure that Inside Llewelyn Davis provided this for me. It is a melancholy, slow-paced film, so if that's what you're in the mood for, I say go see it!

Run from the Fire, Bilbo!

What a wonderful world J.R.R. Tolkein concocted for all of us to enjoy. L. Frank Baum's lions, tigers and bears don't even compare to Tolkein's hobbits, elves and orcs. Whether it be via the pages of The Hobbit or the his other literary works or reflected on the silver screen thanks to the imagination of Peter Jackson and everyone else contributing to the films, his creations have already enriched my life immensely. I will never forget when I first laid eyes on an orc on the big screen in Chicago, against my will, twelve years ago. I am so glad I did.

I'm not sure how to sort all my jumbled thoughts about the second installment of the three Hobbit films. Starting with Bilbo's entourage, the dwarves journeying to The Lonely Mountain, feels appropriate. I wish that Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the vertically-challenged bunch, were a more likable little guy- his cocky attitude paired with his tiny stature make it difficult to take him seriously. My reaction when things go wrong for him isn't to feel pity, but rather to point and laugh in his face. The other dwarves make up for this, however, but I can't help marveling at the lack of consistency among their appearances. It seems like Jackson stole a page from Walt Disney's notes when he made Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Some of the dwarves look completely cartoonish with bulbous noses and hairdos that would be more appropriate in Who-Ville whereas others look completely normal save their short statures (example, the sexy Fili). The dwarves are undoubtedly a lot of fun to adventure with, even if it is from the comfort of a movie theater seat (though we all know how "comfortable" those really are now-a-days...). I most enjoyed the oh-so-famous scene where they escape from their captivity among the elves by riding in barrels down a raging river chased simultaneously by orcs with metal jutting out of various parts of their bodes and elves that get really pissed when their captives escape (and I thought white water rafting was intense...).

Generally, two dimensions are plenty for me when I go to see a movie. Therefore, I expected to be completely unimpressed by my 3D screening of The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. I get freaked out enough when things jump out at me in 2D, on a flat surface- things literally jumping OUT AT me in 3D put me on the verge of a heart attack. You can imagine my relief (or can you?) when Peter Jackson, generally the king of overdoing things, went more subtle on the 3D front. Yes, yes, he "threw an orc head" at us on one occasion, but other than that left the gimmicky stuff to a minimum- a giant bee "coming right at you," etc. etc.

My favorite characters, hands-down, are Gandalf and Bilbo. Strangely, the star hobbit of The Lord of the Rings films, Frodo, pissed me off to no end. He was such a wuss and always causing trouble for everyone else. I bet Gandalf instantly regretted the choice of entrusting the ring to such a little cry-baby. Yet it makes sense that he would, after seeing how incredibly brave of a hobbit Bilbo was. He must have figured due to their sharing some DNA, Frodo would be just as brave. Well, we all know that one trait that did not make it through to future generations. Back to the point: Martin Freeman completely aces his portrayal of Bilbo. He is lovable, you root for him, he beautifully demonstrates his changing character after discovering the ring... spot on with the casting there. As for Gandalf... well I have loved Ian McKellen from the moment I set eyes on him as Gandalf the Gray all those years ago. Watching him get beat up by Sauron and his minions in this film is worse than watching an adorable puppy get kicked in the snout.

I'm sure you are all just dying to know about the oh-so-mysterious dragon, Smaug, and whether or not Peter Jackson got his appearance "correct." I mean, how hard it is to make a CGI dragon look big and terrifying? Better than his looks was his voice- one that is becoming more and more familiar- that of Benedict Cumberbatch. I guess he decided between acting in the Sherlock series and playing Khan in Star Trek among many other films, he figured "hey, why not do the voice of one of the most famous dragons ever written about? I've got time for that." Well, I'm glad he decided to, and you'll see why.

The film was truly fantastic. A little long, but no surprise there. Ed Sheeran singing the song during the closing credits was the icing on top of my beautiful Hobbit cake. I am madly in love with that sexy, British redhead singer so it was, to say the least, a pleasant surprise to hear his silky, sultry voice singing about the plight of the dwarves. Even if just to hear that song... go see The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. Oh, and don't worry ladies, Orlando is looking just as sexy in this film. 

Appropriately, This Series is Catching Fire

If little orphan Annie thought she had a "hard knock life", she clearly didn't know about Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games. Annie spent a couple years in a slightly sub-par orphanage surrounded by supportive friends before being adopted by a billionaire business titan with a heart of gold (though he may seem a bit gruff at first. Yeah, that is "hard knock" all right. Katniss grew up impoverished with her mother and sister barely surviving in a run down house, then is chosen by the corrupt government to fight to the death in a rigged arena amongst other kids. After reigning victorious, she thinks she is off the hook until the evil president threatens to kill her family because she unintentionally initiated an uprising against him. Then, to really stick it to her, the president makes her return to fight for her life a second time. I'd pick Annie's life situation in a heartbeat.

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire was cinematically pleasing. I'm unsure if it was intentional or not, but in the scenes in which residents of the corrupt Capitol were present, their faces were blurred- namely in the scene with the individuals creating the arena for the hunger games. This blatantly embellished the soulless, evil nature of those creating the environment in which children are forced to kill each other.

The acting substantially improved from the first film to the second. The addition of Philip Seymour Hoffman to the cast greatly contributed to the quality of the movie. Even Katniss and Peeta, played by Jennifer Lawrence and Josh Hutcherson, amped up their already impressive acting talents. I normally am not partial to liking Elizabeth Banks, who plays Effie in the films, as she gives off a conceited vibe in magazine and television interviews. However, even she managed to worm her way into my heart with her portrayal of the eccentric Effie. The young actress playing Prim, Katniss' little sister, bothered me to no end in part one of this trilogy. Thankfully, it seems she took some acting lessons and she no longer rubbed me the wrong way (wow that sounded dirty...). Long story short, the acting was substantially better.

Sometimes our fleeting memories can be a blessing. The reason I fancied part two in The Hunger Games film series substantially better than part one is likely because I forgot so many details from the book, and therefore was unaware of what was left out and changed. I was no less happy about the characters created by my mind while reading the books being torn to shreds, but it seemed slightly less upsetting as I had adapted after the first film thus eliminating the shock value. I also appreciated that while the running time sounds daunting at 2 hours and thirty minutes, not for a second did I feel bored.

Yeah, your life really sucks Annie

Katniss has actual troubles

Dollys and Pistols

When I heard Christmas carol following Christmas carol this morning on the “all Christmas music (oh wait, I mean HOLIDAY music) all the time” station, I noticed how antiquated and, let’s face it, politically incorrect the lyrics are at this point. I mean, if “the wish of Barney and Bim” (first of all, who names their kid Bim? Oh wait, I just looked it up and it is actually Ben. Never mind.) is to have a “pistol that shoots,” well, it’s probably going to be tough luck for them. It will be this pistol-less Christmas that kills their magical belief in Santa Claus.

In the song "Up on the Rooftop", "little Nell,"one of the children waiting for Santa, wants a doll that can open and shut its eyes. Wow. No kid today has that basic of demands from the jolly man in red. In this technology-dominated day in age, the doll better be opening and shutting its eyes as the bare minimum. If those lyrics were updated to refer to the modern kiddo, they would be asking for a robotic dolly that convincingly imitates the real thing. Dolls that can talk and go for a walk, the hope of Janice and Jan (where are these names coming from??), seem a little more realistic.

At least the dolls in "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" toddle and coo. This brings me to another irritating aspect of Christmas song lyrics. "Toddle" and "coo"? Who is using these words? I have never heard them uttered in someone's daily diction. On another grammatical note, only during the holiday season can the word “mistletoeing” ever be accepted as a verb without grammarians rolling over in their graves. Any other time of year, using "mistletoeing" could get you shot on sight by the literary police (they are a violent bunch).

I did not realize until this moment how many girls in Christmas carols want dolls. Janice, Jan, little Nell... I can't imagine their modern feminist counterparts are too happy with this blatant stereotype.

Not just the children have strange demands in Christmas songs. Asking to "bring us figgy pudding" comprises two entire verses in "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." That constitutes a pretty strong desire to chow down some figgy pudding, which last time I checked is no longer a marketable staple in holiday cuisine.

Okay, okay- I realize I am getting a bit nitpicky about something as basic as Christmas lyrics. But when you hear different versions of the same songs over and over, you tend to have far too much time to reflect on their content. So much time, in fact, that there may come a part two to this blog.

Seems a bit more realistic as a modern girl's Santa request

A Marriage is a Plot with Many Twists

Little Zs swirled around my own bored head as I attempted to verbally describe the plot of The Marriage Plot to an inquirer asking what the book I was reading was about. There's really no getting around it- the synopsis makes the Jeffery Eugenides novel sound like a total snore-inducer. Maybe it will be less so in blog format. Here goes:

Madeline, a 22-year-old Brown University student is about to don her cap and gown and graduate with a degree in English. Initially, she planned to move in with her boyfriend, Leonard, after graduation while applying to grad school. Yet they recently broke up leaving Madeline without plans and heartbroken. On graduation day, she happens to run into a university friend, Mitchell, who we later discover is and always has been madly in love with her. He is about to head off to India, seemingly missing his chance with his true love. Madeline also learns on graduation day that Leonard, who she believes is her one true love, was committed to the psych ward. SPOILER ALERT she skips graduation to go see him where he confesses he wants to get back together, so they do. The plot switches viewpoints between Madeline, Mitchell and Leonard, who it turns out is a manic-depressive. The story follows their intertwined lives and their changing relationships after departing the Ivy League.

Man, I can feel my brain cells dying of boredom and my fingers melting into the keyboard just from writing this. Hopefully your cells are hanging in there and I can not be held accountable for making my readers brain dead.

If the plot were easier to summarize and sounded more enticing, it would be far easier to give well-deserved kudos to this novel. Something about the most basic desire to know who Madeline ends up with, Leonard or Mitchell, and following along with Mitchell and Leonard through their prospective struggles make it a well-worthwhile read and page-turner. Eugenides truly makes his readers feel for his characters- I pity Madeline for loving and desperately trying to help a manic-depressive, yet also pity Leonard for being one and admire him for attempting to overcome it. I felt myself rooting for Mitchell during his journey abroad and quest for religion. He never ceased to love Madeline.

There are comical parts, some raunchy sex scenes (definitely not for kids) and beautiful scenic descriptions all sprinkled amongst truly engaging prose. A good, page-turning book here!

Still Confused About Time

About Time entertained me more than most of the films I have seen in theaters recently, so before I list the negative aspects which will undoubtedly appear to negate that previous statement, I'll hammer out the good stuff. Maybe that is backwards logic, however; that would be like starting dinner with your favorite food and ending it with your least. I don't want to leave a lingering, nasty sentiment on your mental taste bds, but I am going to try it this way anyhow. It's my blog, not yours. Sorry, that was a very rude digital comment.

The filmmakers and authors out there selecting time travel as a topic need to sit down at a conference table (or at a long table at a coffee shop, since they seem to frequent those), pass around some donuts and coffee, and make some concrete decisions about the technicalities concerning venturing backwards, forwards, upside down and any other theoretical movement through time. As a reader/moviegoer, attempting to keep all of the rules and regs their exceptions straight does nothing short of give me a throbbing headache. I don't like popping Advil mid-movie. Right when you think you know the technicalities like the back of your hand, they throw you an illogical curve ball. I like a curve ball if it will win the World Series for my home team, but not right when time travel starts to make sense.

When the father (who is never named, but fabulously portrayed by Bill Nighy) in About Time informs his son Tim (played by one Domhnall Gleeson, aka Charlie Weasley in Harry Potter) that the men, and only the men, can travel backwards, and only backwards, in time, I nodded and jotted these two rules in my mental notepad. I felt that was easy enough to follow.

Then, my whole mental note was brutally ripped to shreds by the evil screenwriter when every time the son travels back in time, he later travels forward to get back to the original moment from which he traveled. What is this? Some kind of confusing exception? Was I supposed to simply forget about the aforementioned conversation where it was explicitly stated that, while backwards time travel is entirely acceptable, forward time travel defies the laws of physics? It wouldn't have been as bad if this forward traveling occurred only once- maybe the son discovered a rip in time-space allowing him to do so. As if these multiple occurrences weren't enough of a head-scratcher on their own, imagine how I felt when explicitly-stated rule number two, that only men can travel in time, was broken as well.

Ok, so here was the takeaway regarding time travel rules by the end credits: the members of Tim's family with a Y chromosome can travel back in time unless they are holding hands with a female in their family (or is it any female? That was never clarified). They can never travel forwards in time unless it is to a place from which they already traveled back. These two rules and rule exceptions alone caused so many questions to creep up for me. I would list many more confusing rules that came about, but it would mean listing spoilers and I know how panties-in-a-knot people can get about those.

I will end on a positive note after all, the note of D flat. There's a little musical notation humor for you. But seriously, About Time leaves its viewers with a beautifully positive message to mull over. There is one particularly touching moment in the film, the kind that makes sensitive individuals reaching for the packet of tissues that may or may not exist in their pocket or purse or at least lift their shirt sleeve to their watery eyes. Tim's father doles out a touching piece of advice to his son. He tells him to use his gift of time travel to live each day twice: the first time, he instructs him to live the day complete with the stresses on which we normally dwell, and the second to go back to the start of that same day and only notice the little beauties which we typically overlook. What a nice piece of advice. I'm still confused about time travel, though...

I guess they also have to put on their best constipated face when they travel in time