Good Night Nora

 Nora Ephron 

May 19, 1941 - June 26, 2012 

Good night Nora. Thank you for writing and directing funny, charming, sweet films that dared to "go there." Thank you for choosing a career and children. Thank you for growing older (but not old enough!) with grace and good humor. Thank you for being awesome.

Nora-isms: 

“I don't think any day is worth living without thinking about what you're going to eat next at all times.”

“Here are some questions I am constantly noodling over: Do you splurge or do you hoard? Do you live every day as if it's your last, or do you save your money on the chance you'll live twenty more years? Is life too short, or is it going to be too long? Do you work as hard as you can, or do you slow down to smell the roses? And where do carbohydrates fit into all this? Are we really all going to spend our last years avoiding bread, especially now that bread in American is so unbelievable delicious? And what about chocolate?”

“Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”



 

Read more ...

What about Breakfast at Tiffany's?

And I said, "What about breakfast at Tiffany's?"
She said, "I think I remember the film?
And as I recall, I think, we both kinda liked it"
And I said, "Well, that's the one thing we've got"
 - Deep Blue Something

Source

I like to think I discovered Tiffany's on my own. Despite that Deep Blue Something song that came out when I was 10 or the multiple references to the famous jewelry store in popular media (I'm looking at you Sex and the City and Glee), I didn't really get what Tiffany's was all about until one moment in the Vegas Tiffany's outlet in the Bellagio when I stared long and hard at the Tiffany's classic ring setting and thought, "Well, aren't you stunning." When I visited Tiffany's in New York City, I found the store stately, beautiful, and just the right level unattainable.

If I lived in New York City, I probably wouldn't window shop at Tiffany's while enjoying my morning coffee and croissant. Still, when I watched Breakfast at Tiffany's for the first time last week, I understood the comfort the Holly Golightly character found in gazing at orderly, pretty, sparkly things. And that's about where any common ground between me and Holly ends.  

 You see, I can't remember a time when I didn't recognize this picture:

Source

Yet, somehow, I'd never actually seen the film. I had no idea of the plot line (during my childhood, I assumed Tiffany's was a diner or some kind of breakfast joint) and I'd forgotten that the film is based on a Truman Capote novella. So last week, I sat down to actually watch the film and correct all of my misconceptions about Breakfast at Tiffany's.

And my goodness, I was expecting adorable, sweet Audrey Hepburn ala Roman Holiday (one of my favorites!) or My Fair Lady (which is too long and has a shite ending, but which I feel a certain affinity to since it's based on George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion.)  But Audrey's Holly Golightly character is just a pill. A P-I-L-L. As Berman, the Hollywood agent says in the film, "She's a phony, but she's a real phony."

In my mind, Breakfast at Tiffany's had always been linked with the posh and glamorous. But as the storyline unfolded, as much as I loved Hepburn's timeless outfits, I realized the glamor I'd always linked with the film was as phony as Holly Golightly herself.  At its heart, the film's about a sad little girl who constantly insists that external factors hold the key to her happiness. Still, I loved the calm confidence the entire film exudes that firmly dates it as being pre-JFK assassination.   

The film is much less about glamor, and much more about excess and overcompensation. At one point, as we watched the drunken apartment party unfold, Andy wondered out loud, "Is this supposed to be a social commentary on drinking?" 

As the film wrapped up with the rainy scene in the alley, I couldn't help but feel surprised. I hadn't really liked it.

Not that I hated Breakfast in Tiffany's in those "I'm so disinterested in this I think I'll go clean the bathroom" or "I want my two hours back" ways. But after running into references to the film all the time, I'd always assumed it was just another charming Audrey Hepburn film.

Consider my curiosity sated.

Now, if I could just get that Deep Blue Something song out of my head. . . Ah well, better than having "Moon River" running through my head on repeat, eh?

Have you ever been surprised by a classic movie?
 

Read more ...

Knit-Wits

There are certain signs that your knitting "hobby" has morphed into something slightly uncontrollable.

For example, just last night, Andy and I sat down to watch The Fantastic Mr. Fox. I'd heard good things about the film adaptation and I loved, loved the book as a kid, so I was looking forward to it. But almost as soon as the film began, it became clear that film was trying too hard. It just didn't match the cozy, funny, and slightly dark children's book I remembered reading over and over again. I could have considered the movie a bust, but there was some take away value in the film: Mrs. Fox had some great sweaters in that film. And yes, I do realize I'm talking about the wardrobe of a puppet right now.

Keeping an eye out for knitwear can really get you through some dogs of films. Honestly, if the makers of the Lifetime biopic of Coco Chanel hadn't dressed their leading lady in such a beautiful sweater throughout various scenes, I doubt I would have made it through the whole thing. (I mean, Shirley Maclaine as Coco Chanel? Please . . . .) But the sweater is gorgeous. So gorgeous that I stalked the internet for stills of it so I could fashion a pattern after it.

I went to Sherlock Holmes: the Game of Shadows over the holidays. Like any Guy Ritchie film, I spent most of the film wondering what the heck was going and why everyone was beating each other up all the time. By the time I left the theatre though, I had an idea that maybe I could make a sweater or vest with cables based off of the motifs in the Oriental rugs showcased in the interior decor throughout the film. 

I'd feel a little self-conscious about this, but I know for a fact that Maggi over at Just Add Glitter and Stir does that exact same thing. Whatever floats your boat, eh?   
What are unusual things you notice in movies?

Read more ...

Take Me Away

No, not another post about how I'd rather be traveling, although I did discover that a decent compact washer/dryer combo for the cabin would cost less than a plane ticket to Australia, the next bullet point on my "to travel" list. (This puts me in a serious quandary about the future of my summer savings.)

And no, I'm not having washing machine amnesia. I'm still well aware of how awful compact washer/dryer combos can be. I've spent enough time in the British Isles to be well acquainted with the half-day long dry cycles with your clothes locked inside the washing drum that these little (lovely) machines can present you with. However, I have no issue with turning the cabin into a Chinese laundry if necessary. Maybe I should just get a washing machine . . .

But I digress.

What I meant to write about when I sat down this morning was the need to escape, even in the slightest, most figurative way. It's this time of year, when I get asked 30 times a day if I "ever see any wildlife around here," that I want to spend my evenings somewhere far, far away. Some place where I don't have to explain why you can't take pontoon boats into the Boundary Waters. Some place where moose spotting isn't some sort of competitive sport.

Not that the moose aren't impressive.

But I'd rather be bickering about whether or not you should let the hot water boil when brewing a pot of tea than reasons why the moose population is on decline. It's the time of year, where you'll find a Phillipa Gregory novel on the coffee table and plenty of British costume dramas clogging the Netflix queue. Forget hard hitting documentaries, fluffy puppy season is upon us. I just want a not-too complicated plot to transport me into a completely different world each evening.

I once talked to someone about my tendency to overlook nonfiction as "good reads." It's not that I never read nonfiction (although a memoir seems to exist in some funny half world between fiction and nonfiction) but in general, a biography or some other factual read aren't what I want to curl up with at the end of the day. "I think it's just not enough of an escape," the person I was talking with said of nonfiction, and it's true. Most of the time, I'd rather be in some made-up place, watching fictional characters deal with universal problems.

Downton Abbey arrived yesterday (albeit, a day late . . . ahem Netflix!) and I plan on immersing myself in upper crust British life circa early 20th century this evening. Something tells me I wouldn't have enjoyed this kind of life very much if I actually had to live it, but I sure don't mind visiting it nightly.

Happy Solstice all! Any big plans for celebrating the longest day of the year? How do you escape?

Read more ...

Dear Netflix . . .

Dear Netflix,

I think it's time you and I had a little chat. In this mutually dependent relationship we share, things have grown strained. I've started to wonder if I could make it through the winter evenings without you, while you've been making some assumptions about me that I find uncomfortable. Frankly: you think you know me, but you have no idea.

It really was charming of you to recommend Secretary given my past administrative assistant experience (and because I happen to love Stranger than Fiction). I really like that you're trying to suggest movies that appeal to my whole person. However, I believe you and I have very different idea of what's normally involved in the daily life of an administrative assistant. (FYI: it's not really very PC to call us secretaries anymore.) 

I can assure that during my administrative assistant career, I did all of my typing on a computer; dressed in appropriate, if not inspired, business casual; answered the phone with acceptable competency (although sometimes it did take me 1/2 a second to realize where I was . . . 2, or was 3?, straight years of temping will do that to a person); and never once had a self-destructive, sexual-charged, sadomasochistic employer/employee relationship. Needless to say, I was a little shocked when I sat down to watch the flick you so wholeheartedly recommended.

I mean, what the hee-haw? There are things in that film that made me want to scrub my retinas with steel wool. Seriously, if I get up halfway through the movie to clean the boiled-over yuckiness up from underneath the stove burners, I think we can all agree that this was not "another movie I might enjoy." For the record, I did not <3 this.

Also, I've noticed a disturbing trend that because of my affinity for British films, you seem to think I should also enjoy Parisian flicks as well. Now let's just hold on here. This seems like a pretty big leap.

While I did study the French language for 3 years, I remember next to nothing about the language today. As an Anglophile, I'm secretly thrilled that my native tongue is English. Also, the one time I was in Paris, I had food poisoning. While you think you're recommending movies about the most romantic city in the world, I think you're trying to taunt me with nauseous memories about the city I puked all over.

(Does this really look like a happy memory to you?)

I'm glad you're taking past experiences into account when making your recommendations, but until you have the full back story, I think it's more important for you to remember that I don't really care for films which push my moral and intellectual boundaries. I will always be happy with the fluffiest chick flick you have. If you can squeeze Hugh Grant or Colin Firth (preferably: both) into the film all the better.

Capiche?

Thanks for listening.

Your otherwise super-satisfied customer,
Ada

Read more ...

Happily Ever After?

I am the first to admit that I have terrible taste in television. Perhaps because I grew up in a home without a t.v., I find myself drawn to the glowing animated box like a moth to the flame. While I can defend my penchant for Project Runway and Top Chef, some of my other television habits completely lack defense. No matter how much knitting I may have gotten done while watching Millionaire Matchmaker, The Real Housewives of Orange County, or The Hills, the time spend watching such drivel truly are lost hours of my life.

So when the satellite receiver in the Shack spontaneously exploded last fall, just when I was contemplating moving in, it seemed like a no brainer to not fix it. The decision not to have television had nothing to do with living life closer to nature and everything to do with saving a couple bucks and keeping me away from my guilty pleasure: the Bravo Network. Of course, we promptly set up a Netflix account.

While we keep the bad television at bay, I continue to have devastating access to my beloved chick flicks. I enjoy the run of the mill conflict of interests and the predictable happy endings of chick flicks. But when I popped in Must Love Dogs this morning while doing laundry, even I found the plot a little too predictable.

As a person in a committed relationship who is contemplating pet ownership, I guess I wanted dogs to feature a little more prominently in the plot line. Sure “Must Love Dogs” made a cute title and a great poster, but little time was spent exploring just how pet ownership affects a relationship. And even though it was supposed to be an edgier chick flick that focused on the divorcee instead of the twenty-something, it was still had the heavy handed standard chick-flick application of “I found someone I’ve committed to and now my life is perfect” to all characters: even the ones who’d shown no inclination towards commitment at any other point in the film.

I know I watch bad television and poor movies that are all pretty far removed from reality. But still . . . .

Why are we always feed this line that our lives are miserable until that magical moment of falling in love? Why does falling in love in the movies always lead to marriage, maybe some babies, and little else on screen?

I’m not saying I’m anti-commitment, rather, I’m wondering: “what’s next?” Is there really no life after making a commitment worth making a movie about? And most importantly, are dogs and cats involved in happily ever after?

Read more ...