Tale as old as time, but somehow, not boring or twee at all. That’s what I found myself thinking as the credits rolled. I was happy and smiling, and very pleased with the time I had spent watching Ralph wreck his way through Candyland. And, unlike in that pivotal scene in the Bond movie, when I was too confused to feel any emotion other than wonder at how Javier Bardem had so skillfully ripped off Pee Wee Herman, I teared up a little in the right moments with Ralph.
It is a cartoon, and it is aimed at kids, but it is also definitely geared for the adults who are going to have to watch it with the kids (with plenty of video game Easter Eggs for those of us who remember arcades and Atari), unlike the Ice Age movies. Oh my lord. I have never wanted to destroy my own hearing so much as when I took Thor to an Ice Age movie. This? It was delightful. Thor and I both laughed out loud more than once.
Mom’s of girls will be happy to know that the female characters are strong, independently minded, and make all the difference in saving the day. The entire Sugar Rush racing squad is female. Yes, there is a “princess” who needs rescuing, but she literally only needs a push to rescue herself.
I am exhausted of Jack McBrayer and Jane Lynch, and their distinctive voices did drill my brain a little, but John C. Reilly and Sarah Silverman were breaths of fresh air. I loved Silverman’s pipsqueak character and would have wanted an entire set of Sugar Rush dolls if I were small. Who am I kidding? I want them now.
I was very disappointed in the lack of racial diversity. There really is no excuse for having an all-white main cast list in this day and age–especially in a movie set in an alternate reality. That is a big bone, but it’s the only one I have to pick with the movie as a whole.
4 out of 5 stars (yes, I took off a whole star for not having any diversity among the main cast. yes, it is that important–especially for a children’s movie.)
It would be absolutely impossible to talk about the plot of the new Bond movie without ruining it for everyone, so I won’t. Instead, I’ll just tell you some of the impressions I had whilst watching Daniel Craig keep up the tradition.
In short, the movie was just okay. It was hella too long, and felt cobbled together from various Bond flicks and other tv and movie spy tropes. I know a lot of the Bond imagery was meant as treat for the die hard fans (like me–and I know the books as well as the movies), but you can’t [mild spoiler] resurrect that car after Sean Connery drove it into a wall and expect me not to hiss at you. And you can’t techie speak in today’s world and not expect my husband to hiss at you. And you can’t show me Komodo Dragons and not expect me to expect them to hiss at everyone else.
I picked up on theme and/or imagery theft from Indiana Jones, the Bourne movies, (God help them) Live and Let Die, Batman, X-Men, and at one point I turned to Bryan and asked, “Didn’t we see this on an episode of Burn Notice?” Because it was almost straight up out of the Burn Notice episode. All that was missing was Bruce Campbell.
That said, Javier Bardem has shot up the totem pole to be my #2 favorite Bond villain of all time, just behind Dr. No himself. Judi Dench is my favorite Bond Girl of all time. I’m not sure why there was anyone else in the movie. I could have made a whole viewing out of Bardem’s delicate mastication of the scenery. I say it that way because he was the perfect balance of restraint and hambone. I LOVED him.
I have nothing but praise for Daniel Craig as Bond. He makes those Tom Ford tuxedos look beautiful, and I never get tired of his dogged sociopathic stare. He is the Book-Bond of my dreams. He is dark and dangerous, and set on self-destruct, but too addicted to pleasing his bosses to die. In other words, he is a layered, deep, and realistically tortured character. He is to Bond what Benedict Cumberbatch has become to Sherlock Holmes. Breathed quite a bit of life into it.
If you are a Bond fan, you need to see the movie. If you are an action fan, you need to see the movie. If you are torn between that and something else…flip a coin. It is long, and there is a lot of ridiculous running around. I’m a Doctor Who watcher, so I’m used to ridiculous running around, but my payoff there is a TARDIS. I had no Running Around payoff for this one. Only me shaking my head at something that I think was meant to make me cry. I did not cry.
I cried watching Glitter. I cry at everything. I cry watching Boardwalk Empire. I did not cry at this tender, touching scene because all I could think was, “What? What is happening here?”
The only other thing I will say is for Karen: There will come a scene with Javier Bardem, and you will have to cover your mouth to keep from bursting out laughing, recalling PeeWee Herman’s big scene in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You will love him for it. You will not be able to focus on the next few minutes of the movie because of it.
A disappointing, but not dismal 2.5 out of 5 stars
I really didn’t expect much from John Taylor’s memoir. Maybe it was because Andy Taylor had already dished all the dirt in his tell-all, a couple of years ago. Maybe it was because having been a long time, fairly well plugged-in stan, I didn’t think there was much John could tell me that I hadn’t already heard. Maybe it was because I’m still mad at him for not coming to sign me out of 9th grade Algebra, saving me from the fate of Mrs. Potts and all that x+y=wtf tosh she was trying to stuff into my head.
I can tell you exactly what I expected from In The Pleasure Groove: Love, Death & Duran Duran. I expected to read about John’s childhood, with some minor foreshadowing of what would turn him to drug use, then abuse. I expected him to talk about the fun of the band (Duran Duran, in case you were born post-1990), the excesses of the band, and how much for granted he took their success. I expected him to talk about hitting rock bottom, finding The Process, trusting it, and then getting a second chance at the brass ring. I expected him to talk about deferred gratitude and his current, happy life.
I was exactly right. He covered all that, and no more. But, I had expected it to be only moderately readable, full of navel gazing and platitudes. I was exactly wrong there. It was an easy, enjoyable read and turned out to be introspective, and interesting. I did not expect the book to be so thoughtful, sweet, and kind.
Where Andy’s book was lighting people on fire and daring them to stop, drop, and roll, John’s book was gentle with the lives that touched his. Where Andy’s book was about how awesome he was, John’s book was about how hard he worked, and how fortunate he was to connect with wonderful, like-minded workers. Where Andy’s book blamed the world, John’s book accepted responsibility for his own behavior.
I told a friend, after reading the first few chapters, that it was “a lovely book.” It really is. It is a book that his daughter should be proud to read, that his various exes can read without worry, that his current wife can read with delight, that his coworkers and friends can read and smile, and that a longtime fan can read and enjoy as though they were finally getting that sit-down with the Bass God that they’d always wanted.
What it lacks in detail, it makes up for in lyrical quality. It isn’t about facts and figures, so much as it is about overall impressions. John gives you a feeling for the times, writes you into the atmosphere of the clubs, the craziness, and the driving work. When he has to talk about people, he finds their best.
Like I said, it is a kind work. My favorite things about the book are the way he gives insight into the mind of a success. No room for failure, only plans to succeed. I enjoyed reading about how he approached relationships (if you’d like a peek into the mind of how men look at romance…) and I loved how respectfully he treated his daughter’s mother.
I would liked to have read more about the lean years between Medazzaland and Astronaut. I’d like to have read about his foray into film and television. I’d like to have read more about his time as a solo artist, the process that went into writing his solo albums and how that changed him as a group-based artist.
As a memoir for Duran Duran fans, it is a great, nostalgic read. I couldn’t help thinking, “Oh, that was the year Jamie and I were junior counselors.” “Hey, Karen bought me that for Christmas one year!” “I still remember the first time I heard that on the radio.”
As a memoir for John Taylor fans, I feel like it could have been twice as long. I’d like to have read more about the sober artist, feeling his way around himself and the world, finding ways to create and contribute, and be relevant as an adult, than the Tiger Beat, Brummie born boy with burgundy bangs. I am especially interested in that now, having read how sweetly he wrote this book.
If Andy’s book was a Screamo song, shouted at the Duranies, John’s is a lullabye sung to us.
War Horse, based on the beloved novel by Michael Morpurgo, is a powerfully moving and imaginative drama, filled with stirring music and magnificent artistry. South Africa’s Handspring Puppet Company brings breathing, galloping, full-scale horses to life on the stage — their flanks, hides and sinews built of steel, leather and aircraft cables.
Experience the emotional journey that charges through the battlefields of history straight to hearts of audiences around the world.
I have never seen anything like the puppets used for the horses. I had read, in reviews, that after a few scenes you forget you are looking at a puppet. I was skeptical, but I can tell you that within moments I forgot I was looking at a puppet. Those horses are alive with movement, breath, quivering manes and tails, and grace. The grace is indescribable.
Thor with the tickets we won, courtesy of the Nicole Barrett show on KLIF radio. Thank you, Nicole!
I’m not sure what I expected of the show. I hadn’t seen the movie, or read the book, so the lady at Will Call, where we picked up our tickets, made sure to let us know that there would be some loud scenes of war. Set during World War I, she wondered if that would bother Thor? Thor asked, “Will we get to see guns?!” Boy child.
The story is simple and the stage was spare. The stage set is an open area (so that the massive horses could move freely) with a black, backing screen with a slash of cream across at a height. It looks like a piece of a page torn out of a book, pasted across the “sky”, and it becomes the sky, and the earth, and the war–many things as pencil sketch drawings fill in the gaps between imagination and prop.
Here a window drops down, and here a door, and on the screen you see the scribbled thatch roof of an English farmhouse. Here stand the cast/crew with fence posts, and on the screen you see the rolling hills of the English countryside. Here sit the officers astride their horses, and on the small slash of screen you see the battlements behind them.
I was impressed by the way they utilized the screen. In one scene, after an entire half of the play in pencil sketched, black and white, the screen blooms with the bright red blood of British soldiers in the field, and as the splatters spread, they bleed into the shapes of poppies. It was simple, and understated, and intense.
This was Thor’s first theater experience, so as we were leaving, I asked what he thought. Among his delight at the horses and the tanks, he said, “I really liked that screen. That was really, really good.” So, it was well done enough that a jaded adult was impressed by it, and a 7-year-old neophyte could grasp it’s purpose and make an emotional connection with the scenery.
Thor standing in front of the War Horse poster at the AT&T Performing Arts Center. This was his first theater experience, and he was impressed with the massive horse puppets as I was.
War is hell on both sides, and this play did a great job of humanizing the soldiers. Sure, there are the caricatures you expect, but ultimately, what you see are human beings who have the same hopes, dreams, thoughts, and feelings, and whose only differences are in the styles of their uniforms, and the accents they bear.
I watched the year-markers ticking by on the screen and thought, “My grandfather wasn’t born yet. My great-grandmother would have been pregnant now. Boom would have been an infant. Boom might just have been learning to crawl. What kind of world was it for them? How uncertain?” It was a different war, for sure. What does a cavalry do against machine guns? What do horses do against barbed wire?
One of the themes of the play is the progression of mankind. I love that in this day of 3-D animation, CGI, and surround sound, I got to watch this simple, beautiful, unadorned show.
Every show has its challenges, and there were a few things that stood out to me (and to the man behind me, who was cataloging aloud), but none of them were significant enough to name. The cast performed very well, and the stage crew and puppeteers–you just have to see it to understand why they are so amazing.
Our friends Leslieann and Ellie were able to join us for the play.
I have been telling everyone about the horses in the show. Again, puppets, and puppets worked by three, full-sized adults each. I can’t explain to you how these grown people blended into nothing against the flick of a tail, or the shake of a head, or the stamping of a hoof, but they did. In one scene, two of the horses challenge and chase one another, rearing up and bucking in a choreographed dance that looked like equine ballet. In slow motion. Y’all, they did it in slow motion. And. It. Was. Perfect. It was breathtaking.
So how did my 7-year-old do at his first theater experience?
The play lasts 160 minutes with one 15 minute intermission. We hit the toilets right before taking our seats, so Thor was able to sit through the entire first half of the show–on the edge of his seat, which is where he stayed most of the time.
The second half of the show happened almost 2 hours past his usual bedtime, so I expected him to slouch, fall asleep, or show signs of restlessness. Nope. He did ask me two questions, but those had to do with the plot. He remained upright, engaged, and jumped up to participate in the standing ovation for the cast. He loved it. As well behaved a boy as I have, I give a lot of credit to the production for being so interesting and entertaining that the time flew by. It really felt like just an hour, instead of two and a half.
What I liked best:
The horses. They could not have been more realistic.
The story itself.
The way the screen/backdrop was used.
What Thor liked best:
The tank.
The horses.
The dialog between two soldiers, one British, one German, as they fumble their way through to saving a horse from harm. (Which should tell you how well done and how well acted the scene was!)
5 out of 5 stars
Once again, much thanks to Nicole Barrett and KLIF. We would never even have considered going to see the show without their gracious gift, and I am so glad we went!
I finished another memoir last night. Once Upon a Star, by Peggy Trentini. If you’ve ever flipped through a lingere catalog and wondered, “What is it like to be a lingere model?” or, more specifically, “What would it have been like to be a lingere model in the late 80s, early 90s?” this is the book for you.
Peggy, a former member of the Swedish Bikini Team, Frederick’s of Hollywood model, and Token T&A actress (you know how in the 80s, there was always at least one gratuitous boobie shot in any movie? that), and lover/mistress of Sylvester Stallone, Vince Neil, Billy Idol, Mick Jagger, Bret Michaels, Johnny Depp, Mark Messier, and Kevin Costner, and possibly the one willing woman in LA that Sean Penn did not sleep with, has written an entertaining little book about what it was like to go to bed with half of Hollywood’s A-list either on, or before the first date. (And you know it was the 80s because the only mention of condoms is in her having seen some on someone’s bathroom counter.) I wouldn’t call it a good book. That would be too far of a stretch, but Trentini comes across as someone I might like to have over for a girls night. She’d have some great stories, for sure!
What stood out to me:
Billy Idol liked to do it on top of a mink bedspread. I was very worried about a) how sanitary this was, as it is very difficult to clean fur, b) how many different mink bedspreads Billy Idol might have had in order to manage the difficulty of keeping them clean, and c) whether or not the fur would shed?
Whether Trentini ever found out why Bret Michaels never takes off his bandana–and I mean never–because she did mention it.
How all these men seem to have the stamina of Danielle Steele heroes, after drinking ship-sinking vats of liquor.
Life before cell phones was much more private.
So THAT is how the Sandra Bullock lesbian rumor got started!
I was really worried about that mink bedspread. Especially, after she mentioned how frequently they got it dirty.
The long and short of it is this: Sly, Vince, Billy, Mick, Bret, Johnny, Kevin, and Mark were all superior lovers with no flaws, save that they weren’t monogamous. Trentini had her success in LA, and lived to tell about it.
The book is part adorable, part ridiculous, part salacious, and entirely unbelievable. If you’ve got a late summer vacation planned, and you need something to read by the pool, give it a whirl. If only to live vicariously through someone who got to live out Rebel Yell.
The Outside Lane 