There is nothing in this world that I love more than movies. I did, after all, devote four years of study to the crafting, telling, and analysis of the medium. There's something so great about film - it taps into telling stories and delving into the human condition, belly-first. But, if there was ever a contender for things I love more than movies, it might just be New York.
Enter "New York, I Love You," the perfect hybrid of motion picture and the Big Apple.
It's like Christmas when I first discovered they're making a companion film to 2006's Cannes Film Festival darling, "Paris, Je T'aime," appropriately titled "New York, I Love You." The premise is simple: each five minute vignette is about a specific part of New York - the Upper East Side, Bronx, East Village, and so on. And each vignette is written and directed by a prominent director. It just so happens to be the directorial debut of Natalie Portman, who appeared in a "Paris, Je T'aime" vignette.
Emmanuel Benbihy, the architect and ingenue of these love letters to various cities, is also planning "Shanghai, I Love You," slated for release in 2010. And though "NY, ILY" won't be out until October, there's still plenty to love about this film - it boasts all-star cast, from Robin Wright Penn, Orlando Bloom, and Andy Garcia (it angers me that Blake Lively is in it, though she is a part of New York, if only fictitiously.)
Does this mean "Cleveland, I Tolerate You" is in the works? Doubtful. But who knows, the wanderlusting writers of "Paris, Je T'aime" might have started a vast empire.
It has finally arrived. The torturous weeks walking through New York viewing pictures of a very macabre Daniel Radcliffe in subway stations are at an end. For any Muggles who have been like Sirius Black, and living in a cave for the past decade, I am, of course, referring to the debut of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince this evening.
Prepare for a masterful tale of spells and villains, of castles and creatures, and a lot of wizard angst. Review to follow after my viewing. To Hogwarts! To Harry!
Well. That was that. I braved the lines at the Regal Cinema in Union Square, and precisely at 12:01, was the magical moment. Viewers clapped and cheered as though they were at a Quiddich match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. But enough about my irrefutable nerdiness.
Let's start out with the good the film has to offer. No director seems to stay around very long - one could even argue that the position is cursed, much like the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. But, in the whole mess of them, David Yates (of several acclaimed BBC series) has proven he can handle the epic span of storylines that J.K. Rowling presents. He transformed "Order of the Phoenix" from an angst-ridden teenybopper (cough, cough...Twilight) popcorn flick to a Big Brother-esque lesson on totalitarianism and absolute power. And to that end, Yates has made a successful, visually stunning film with HBP.
The issues lie in several aimless plot twists screenwriter Steve Kloves threw in. Too much butterbeer at the Hog's Head, perhaps? Or not enough Felix Felicis? I am not the first, nor will I be the last, to complain about the completely irrelevant scene in the middle of the film, where the Burrow is stormed by Bellatrix LeStrange (Helena Bonham Carter, in a disappointing role handled with the finesse of Gwarp in a chinashop) and the pointless were-man Fenrir Greyback (Dave Legeno). I realize that movies usually deviate from their heftier cousins, the novel, but to spend over five minutes on a battle that was not in the book, did not further the plot, and took the place of the skirmish at the end of HBP?
A definite plus to nearly a decade of witchcraft and wizardry and wee little Brits is that they were bound to get better at some point -- Emma Watson, especially. She has always been the strongest actor of the three, no more than in the third film where she proved she was more than a brainy poindexter, and a deep, emotional being with as much insight into Muggle Studies as she does wizard romance. We see her and Won-wo--I mean, Ron's love blossom, from denial to the touching scene in the Hospital Wing where Ron mumbles "Erm-on-knee."
Another performance to be applauded? How about the creepy little nephew of the scary serpent-like Dark Lord Ralph Fiennes, Hero Fiennes-Tiffin. Finnes-Tiffin plays the intensely creepy 11-year-old Tom Riddle cum Lord Voldemort. Thankfully, though, he hasn't developed his odd penchant to play with anagrams like in Chamber of Secrets.
The film's peaks do not make up for its valleys, and vice versa. Though the climax at Voldemort's cave is, at points poignant and touching, when Dumbledore offers himself as the potion drinker, telling Harry, "You're too important." Harry, of course, plays the hero, helping the wizened old Michael Gambon (who never quite captures the sparkle of Richard Harris' Dumbledore) escape to safety. [SPOILER ALERT] Yet minutes later, on the highest tower of Hogwarts, Harry watches blithely by as Dumbledore is murdered by Snape, another plot point that isn't consistent with the characters. In the novel, Dumbledore has the choice to defend himself or perform a bodybind spell on Harry to keep him safe and unseen under the Invisibility cloak. He choses to protect Harry, knowing that one way or another, he was to be sacrificed for the cause of good and light.
Kloves should examine the methods of the Academy Award winning writers of the Lord of the Rings trilogy - Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens and Mr. Peter Jackson himself. The three knew the texts religiously, had read and love the books for years before carefully adapting it to the silver screen. Any changes were made for a reason, to adapt the characters to the deceptively tricky medium of film. Boyens once commented on changing the character of Faramir in The Two Towers: If you're trying to up the tension, you don't have your main characters captured by someone who sort of interrogates them, but, not really, who then offers them a cup of tea and says, 'I'll do anything I can to help you.' It's death on film. And it's not just the effect that the character out of the book...it's trying to establish that this is the most evil thing ever created, it's tearing apart the mind of your main character, it's reduced this other character to this miserable creature Gollum, and now you come along someone who says, 'I would not touch this thing if it lay on the highway.' You've just stripped the Ring of all its power.
The issue is apparent for avid readers of Rowling's series: it is obvious Kloves has no love of the text he is transforming, it is merely another assignment, another job. Much of the joy and mystery felt from reading the books was lost to me, as it felt like an itenerary for much of the film: "Go here, do this, say that, cast a spell or two, Quiddich match, someone dies, Hogwarts Express."
Bethertainment Weekly Grade: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - starts out wholley splendid, and half-heartedly fizzles out. B-
Harry Potter quote of the day: "He's covered in blood again. Why is it he's always covered in blood?"
Bethertainment Weekly Presents: Twittereviews: Season Finale Reviews in 140 words or less.
LOST I wish I could time travel to the season six premiere. A+
GREY'S ANATOMY Everyone's McDying or McMarried. McBoring. C+
SCRUBS Titanic-like montage of JD leaving Sacred Heart. Awkwardly heartwarming. B
THE OFFICE Michael Scott and Holly put on 'Dunder Mifflinaire.' Pam and Jim is havin' a bay-bee. That is all. B+
And, I am proud to announce I have - from a reliable source - the information that "Mad Men" has started production for a solidly brilliant season three. Let's just say I may or may not have run into a certain Art Director of Sterling-Cooper at certain Broadway revival show and may or may not have asked him questions about the marvellous "Mad Men."
Huh. Wasn't expecting the variables in "Lost's" 100th episode, conveniently titled "The Variable."
Talk about a conundrum. We discover the details of Faraday's encounter in the 1970's. He doesn't work in the Dharma Initiative, unlike many of the other islanders. He presents the quixotic knight-of-obligation haunted by the requests of his mother, who was either the biggest fan of Fate on Facebook, or an insatiable Destiny's Child devotee.
Faraday as a boy is the jumpy, nervous Physicist Faraday in Boy Size. Turns out most everyone on "Lost" harbors a secret pianist talent -- Jack, Benjamin Linus, and now Far-Away Faraday -- and is well-versed in the classics. But the important thing was Eloise Hawking, tearful and stern, telling him he cannot play piano anymore, that there's not time.
LITTLE BOY FARADAY: But I can make time. ELOISE: If only you could.
Every line between Faraday and Eloise is a double entendre, each glance has meaning. Sadly, since I am neither J.J. Abrams or a staff writer on the show, the best I can do is hypothesize and use my shiny college degrees to make educated guesses.
First things first. Through flashbacks of Faraday's life, we get a better picture of who exactly Eloise Hawking is. One part scientist, two parts crazy pageant mom, she drives her son to be what he is meant to be -- a top scientist -- so there was simply no time in Faraday's childhood for games of Candyland and trips to the lake. When Faraday graduates from Oxford, Eloise is remarkably cold to his then-girlfriend-soon-to-be-brain dead Theresa. And when confronted by Charles Whidmore about sacrifices, slaps him. "You have no idea what I've had to sacrifice," she says. Which begs the question: does Eloise know what she must do? I would argue, to a certain extent. I'll come back to this idea.
This episode reveals that people are the variables -- that is, their actions and, convexly, lack of actions -- are malleable and are not set in stone. Exhibit A: Charlotte, "just remembering" a man who came to her as a child telling her she must leave the island.
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Does "just remembering" mean that Faraday of 1977 talks to Past-Charlotte in that moment, that Charlotte didn't have that memory until Present-Day Faraday (functioning in 1977) talked to her? It was in the past, but, much like Billy Pilgrim of Slaughterhouse Five, the past is subject to change, and memories with them.
Fans of the show will revel in a "big win" -- we find out the causality for everything! In 1977, unparalleled power is released. The hatch is built to control the power, the button made to reset every 108 minutes. Without the hatch, and the varying power, Oceanic flight 815 would not have crashed, and none of the events on the island would have happened. Jack sees this as promising. No island. No smoke monster. No Benjamin Linus. No feasting on Dharma O's and Dharma Ranch Dressing. Just landing in Los Angeles, a little worse for the wear.
And what of Penelope and Desmond Hume? There was a poorly attempted "ER/Grey's Anatomy" moment when we think Mr. Hume is on his way to the bright forever. Only to find out he's miraculously fine -- looks like the Wheaties he had in his bag o' groceries really did protect him!
Now, to address the giant smoke monster in the room. What of Eloise Hawking of 1977 shooting her son? Faraday storms The Other's Camp awkwardly brandishing a gun, demanding to see Eloise. A whole host of questions arise: why did Faraday feel the need to raid the camp? Did Richard Alpert know that Eloise was present, and, if so, why would he lie and say she wasn't in camp? Was Faraday aware of what needed to be done? That is, did he know it was his destiny to go back to 1977 and be murdered at the hand of his mother? These are questions I can't readily answer. But Eloise seems to have little idea of who she just shot in the stomach. Or, she knows it's all part of the island's destiny.
And, for those who subscribe to the church of H.G. Welles and Steven Hawking, another quantum-continuum "win" was won. "We are the variables," Faraday explains, building on the excellent season four episode "The Constant." That is to say, people are the variables. It was a giant awwww moment, because you think, People's actions aren't set in stone. We're erratic at best, unbalanced at worst. It goes back to Season One, where the story again revolves around the people of "Lost" (as per my letter seen in Entertainment Weekly) and not the extraordinary events surrounding them.
So, Daniel Faraday is dead.
For now.
But as evidenced by other resurrections, (see also: Jock Locke) dead means very little on the island. From next week's previews, Jack is again on a mission to save the island and perhaps stop Oceanic Flight 815 from crashing at all.
Gather round, and say it with me: "Oooh, mindplay!"
A new, two-hour epic episode of our favorite time-traveling island castaways airs tonight at 9PM. Obama's fourth press conference airs at 8PM. Expect a review of one or the other (or both, if you're lucky).
Quick Stats: LOST's 100th Episode, "The Variable." Daniel Faraday makes a long-awaited appearance, along with a young Charlotte. A whole unmitigated 40 minutes of Oceanic goodness.
By now, I'm sure even your slightly senile neighbor Bertha has heard of Susan Boyle. It trumps Somalian pirates, economic chaos, and even the newset addition to the Obama household, Bo'bama. Larry King managed to snag this singing sensation for "Larry King Live." For those of you who have been living in a cave, please click this link.
Boyle, 47, has done the impossible--rising from complete obscurity from a small town nested in the British Isles, to win the hearts of the world.
What I ask is this--why the shock, the complete and utter disbelief that an overweight and homely middle-aged British woman cannot hum "Happy Birthday," let alone belt a power-ballad from Les Miserables. Audience members began first to applause, then stand, then cheer, as a national hero was being birthed before their very eyes.
This isn't the first time this has happened. In a previous season of "Britain's Got Talent," a lowely man by the name of Paul Potts told the judges (scowling Simon Cowell included) that he was going to sing "Nessum Dorma," one of the most famous tenor arias of all time, from Giacomo Puccini's celebrated opera Turandot. The judges were again doubting Thomases. Not a one expected an uneducated British man to be able to pronounce an Italian syllable, let alone create a moving work of music and art.
What is it about these unassuming, ordinary people that instill so much doubt in audiences? The answer is as obvious as Tyra Bank's very fake hair color. We (that is to say, scholars and followers of the media) have been programmed to believe only the thin, lovely, and avant-garde have any idea of what art is, and indeed--how to perform it. Beauty comes in unexpected places, but when a society-ordained "fugly" Scotswoman belts out Schönberg--is this cause for media exploitation and international acclimation?
Can the unusual cast of The Unusuals prove their New York prowess? And what's with the unusual facial hair?
Cop shows have been around for a long, long time. From Hill Street Blues to NYPD Blue, and the original Andy Griffith Show, audiences have been fascinated by the crime crunching men (and women) in uniform. So it comes as no surprise that ABC is trying a new spin on the New York City cop with the premiere of The Unusuals.
It is entertaining enough. Newcomer and ex-Park Avenue Princess Casey Shraeger (Amber Tamblyn) is moved to a new unit after a detective's partner is mysteriously murdered in a park during a shift where she was an undercover - ahem - woman of the night. A man dressed in a hot dog costume is arrested. Police radio quips fade in about a "man in a cape and no pants."
New York is certainly an unusual place, and these crimes do happen. But each character falls flat, each plot line fizzles out before it plays out. You find yourself watching, but disengaged, like an 8th grader sitting in biology class watching a NOVA special on covalent bonding: mildly interesting, but only because of the promise of lunch afterwards. The characters fall flat on their own cliches--LOST's Harold Perrineau plays the one-dimensionally paranoid detective Leo Banks, a man who wears a bullet-proof vest at all times in fear of stray bullets. The awkward, Brady Bunch 'stached Detective Eric Delahoy (Adam Goldberg) finds out he has a brain tumor, and has six weeks to live if it goes untreated.
Though these are all good building blocks, the talented cast fails to deliver the expected quirkiness promised in trailers. Bones veteran writer Noah Hawley keeps dialogue snappy and self-aware, but it is simply not enough to distinguish the show from every other crime and/or cop show with a "new and exciting" twist. Ratings for the pilot were poor, even though its' lead in was the hit show LOST (which was at one of its' highest points last week. Thumbs up, by the way). I wonder--will these gregarious gum shoes find an usual way to beat the barrage of cop and crime shows out there?
(Sidenote: Bring back Pushing Daisies! Please, I beg you, ABC Exec's. It was the only forensic fairy tale I ever liked...)
Enter "New York, I Love You," the perfect hybrid of motion picture and the Big Apple.
