I went to see “Wild Tales” knowing nothing about it except that Almodóvar was one of the producers, and I love Almodóvar.
Embarrassingly far into the movie I realized it was set in Argentina and not Spain as I had originally assumed. I wish I had recognized the distinctive accents but they went completely over my head until one of the characters said he was on the road from Salta to Cafayate, city names I recognized from my tour book.
Ever since my trip last winter all things Argentine fill my heart with joy, and this film was no exception. But it would have filled my heart with joy regardless of its provenance. It had all the trappings of the best of Almodóvar – dark twisted humor, absurdly over the top sex and violence, flamboyantly flawed characters. Some of it was a little anxiety-provoking but the net effect was glee.
The movie was comprised of a bunch of thematically related vignettes and in the last one I *think* the actor was the same guy who was pointed out to me in a Buenos Aires restaurant as a famous Argentine star. I’m not entirely sure, but I remember thinking the guy in the restaurant looked like a blond Ben Stiller, and this guy looked like a blond Ben Stiller*, and how many blond Ben Stiller lookalikes are there in the world? Either way, I recommend the film!
*…though not at all in the image above. So maybe I’m completely off.
So thankful I got the opportunity to make these videos.
(The videos are part of a multimedia series called “Typhoon Haiyan: Portraits of Recovery.”)
A belated blurb about “Hiroshima Mon Amour,” the Alain Resnais new wave classic that I caught last week at Film Forum (perfectly timed with my Tokyo afterglow):
The same poetic, overwrought melodrama that tarnishes the script’s beauty with a hefty dose of cheese has the exact opposite effect on the composition, which is the height of elegance and artistry. Every shot is so perfectly framed that, well, it could be framed. Look at these!:
Jaw-droppingly gorgeous, no?
I spent the movie enraptured by the cinematography and appreciative that even though the screenplay didn’t speak to me in the traditional sense, it spoke to me in the literal sense. As in, it was sparse, repetitive and simple enough for me to understand 90% of it without subtitles.
French practice, eye candy, and a warm movie theatre on a cold night = perfection.
Last night instead of going to my weekly French Meetup, I wore the dress I had bought while putting off last week’s session, and I attended the premiere of a Hollywood movie featuring a perfectly Hollywood version of France.
There were more clichés in “The Hundred-Foot Journey” then you could shake a stick at. Three of the most egregious: the quaint village untouched by modernity (not one cell phone or computer in sight, but plenty of vintage books and bicycles); the cozy whitewashed apartment illuminated only by candlelight; and the shy ingénue with saucer-like eyes and magnetic charm – a French twist on the manic pixie dream girl.
But who cares. We dressed up, we walked (by) the red carpet, we spotted Oprah and Helen Mirren, and we were mildly entertained for two hours. And I heard about six lines of French over the course of the movie – so I’m counting that as a de facto Meetup.
Photo: Mysterious/badly lit selfie of my friend Jenny and me in row F. I really need to do better with these pictures…
Best supercut ever! I’m LOL’ing all over the place. That Alex Trebek, he’s so smug, I love/hate it.
Update: video should go here but I have tried a million different ways to embed it and WordPress is not accepting any of them. So find it here, via The Huffington Post
I’m about to head out for a night on the town but before I do… a couple of links to start your weekend. Design Sponge went all out on the French front today with two fun posts:
– a roundup of gorgeous French home tours
– 24 hours in Paris with someone who knows what’s what
This weekend I am due to have my third chat with my very own Parisian pal, Philippe. So far he has introduced me to Peppa Cochon, otherwise known as Peppa Pig, as well as to this Web series about the adventures of a Frenchman abroad in America. It’s hard to watch as an English speaker because the original English audio under the French voiceover gets distracting, but the delightfulness of the show makes it worth it. I sort of want to rip this concept off and putter my way around France butting into interesting-looking people’s lives and making myself right at home after inviting myself over.
To be fair, Antoine’s show is actually derivative, whether unknowingly or not, of an amazing project from the early days of the Internet, Let Me Stay For a Day.
In any case… here’s wishing you an adventurous and intriguing-person-filled weekend! Or whatever else you’d like it to be…
(Photo: J’irais dormir chez vous)
Last week I killed two birds with one stone – got some French practice in while viewing an acclaimed documentary by Agnes Varda, “The Gleaners and I.” Though it was slow going and I found the first half pretty boring, eventually the meandering, off-the-beaten-path storytelling grew on me.
Gleaners are traditionally people who follow along after the harvest, picking up all the crops that have been missed by the reapers. Taking her inspiration/point of departure from the Jean-François Millet painting above, Varda went out in search of modern day gleaners – not only farm foragers but also trash pickers, junk refurbishers, upcyclers, and artists who find their raw materials on the streets. Between vignettes about these people, Varda added little interstitial bits of weirdness and whimsy – her hand making circles around distant trucks; a lens cap’s “dance” as the camera bumps along on an accidentally filmed walk; a robed judge standing in a field explaining property law. My neurotic brain is drawn to the meta, so the idea of Varda gleaning all her footage for odds and ends to throw into the mix was sort of delightful to me (even when not so delightful to watch).
The slow pace did make following along in French a lot easier. I tried to ignore the subtitles as much as possible, but I should have just turned them off. It’s so hard to avoid your eye wandering down to them even when you can understand most of what’s being said.
If I were really committed, I would rewatch the movie without subtitles and try to glean some new vocabulary now that I know the general story. 🙂
(Let’s face it, I’m not that committed – but I do still want to watch a couple of Varda’s other films that I’ve heard good things about: The Beaches of Agnès and Cleo from 5 to 7.)
Estoy en el fuego! Je suis sur le feu! Anyone know what the correct idiomatic expressions for this sentiment actually are?
P.S. Leah Dieterich’s ‘Idieoms’ (“poems made of literal translations of non-English idioms”) are uniformly beautiful.
Above: Case in point. So lovely!
P.P.S. Prioritaire, a sweet and very easy-to-understand (both emotionally and linguistically!) movie narrated in French, by the same multi-talented Dieterich (also of thx thx thx fame). I adore everything she does.
This past Thursday I went to see the Virunga premiere at the TriBeCa Film Festival with a couple of work friends. The documentary follows park rangers in the eponymous Congolese national park as they work to protect endangered mountain gorillas and other wildlife from poachers and encroachment by oil development interests. It’s a super powerful film (and super adorable thanks to the special bond between one of the rangers, Andre, and the orphaned gorillas he cares for). Continue reading