The immenent Oscars has inspired a flurry of DVD watching. What with West Bubblefuck having a completely rubbish cinema that shows far too few of the nominated films... (I am never going to win the Most Films Seen award so long as I am here.) The flurry has also been assisted by my inability to be too far from my couch for too long, what with the inistent infections and vile viruses that have invaded me in the last week. I blame 24/7 work for 3 weeks. All work and no play makes Danne a sick little bunny. And not in a funny way.
So this weekend has seen me parked in front of my beautiful enormous tele, chowing down on soups and garlicky pastas, and consuming more Oscar fodder to try to prepare me for the decisions I face at the beginning of next month. What To Tip.
I missed Julie & Julia at the cinema. Mostly because it looked like a Mega Chick Flick with few redeeming features. But I am sorry I did so. Because I thoroughly enjoyed this film. The intertwined bio-pics of famous cookbook author Julia Child (the always-oh-so-fabulous Meryl Streep) and blogger/author Julie Powell (elfin-faced Amy Adams) deals with the question of fulfilment in life - doing what we love and what makes us happy.
Julia was a civil servant and wife of a diplomat (the ever-adorable Stanley Tucci) in paris in the '40s. Hardly the demure lady-who-lunches, Julia elbowed her way into advanced cooking classes, and the love of food gave her a sense of purpose - and eventually a very successful book deal.
Julie was a civil servant trying to pull together the pieces of post 9/11 New York, and aspiring to be a writer. Disillusioned with her life and surrounded by the bitchiest of smug successful friends, she embarked on a quest to complete Julia's Mastering The Art Of French Cooking in 12 months.
And then she got a film made about it.
I really enjoyed this gentle comedy. Possibly because I love food porn, and there is plenty in this. But there is a feminine funny to it. And I think that is mostly down to the goddess of acting that is Meryl Streep. I don't think she will get the Best Actress based on this performance - though she might get it based on the fact that she has been nominated about a million times, and not won it since 1983.
I was right in thinking this is a Mega Chick Flick. But I only mean that I don't think the XYs will get much out of it at all. So I don't mean it in a bad way.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Up: Where it belongs?
The format for the Oscars Best Film has changed a bit this year - it's now TEN films nominated rather than the usual 5. Which means the decision is going to be even more difficult in the Oscars Fest is going to be even more tricky.
The curliest of all those contenders thrown in is Up. Not just nominated for Best Animation, but also 'up' (teehee) for Best Film. Wow. Has to be a pretty awesome film in its own right, right?
What with the insanity of this last twelvemonth - both in a good/fun and and manic/work kind of way - I missed Up at the cinema. Lucky Sparky has such a similarly avid addiction to DVDs as I do, so his collection has come to the rescue.
The English Teacher in me screams "BELONGING TEXT!!!!". It begins with the love story of Carl Frederickson meeting his childhood sweetheart, and later wife Ellie. Their childish obsession with adventure and exploring unites them immediately, and keeps them together throught the duldrums of suburban life until her death. And that is all in 15 minutes.
Retired baloon-seller Carl is alone and eldery, and disconnected from the escalating skyrises around him, and he's feeling the pressure to shut himself into a retirement home to make way for the urban sprawl. He hatches a plan to use his house as a blimp to sail to South America - powered by helium baloons.
He reluctantly collects a band of followers - a boy-scout named Russell who happened to be on the porch of the elevating house, and who is lacking a father figure in his life. They also find Kevin, an exotic local bird and Dug, a hunting dog empowered with speech.
I would hope that my Year 12 boys could see the messages of Belonging in there - That Our Relationships and Friendships Are More Valuable Than Our Possessions. That Finding A Sense of Belonging Gives A Sense of Purpose & Identity. That The Places And People We Feel We Belong To Are Not Always The Only Choices We Have. But I am not holding my breath. Hopefully they will get there by November...
It is a brilliant animation. And a very good film. But it isn't going to get my pick in the Oscars Fest.
The curliest of all those contenders thrown in is Up. Not just nominated for Best Animation, but also 'up' (teehee) for Best Film. Wow. Has to be a pretty awesome film in its own right, right?
What with the insanity of this last twelvemonth - both in a good/fun and and manic/work kind of way - I missed Up at the cinema. Lucky Sparky has such a similarly avid addiction to DVDs as I do, so his collection has come to the rescue.
The English Teacher in me screams "BELONGING TEXT!!!!". It begins with the love story of Carl Frederickson meeting his childhood sweetheart, and later wife Ellie. Their childish obsession with adventure and exploring unites them immediately, and keeps them together throught the duldrums of suburban life until her death. And that is all in 15 minutes.
Retired baloon-seller Carl is alone and eldery, and disconnected from the escalating skyrises around him, and he's feeling the pressure to shut himself into a retirement home to make way for the urban sprawl. He hatches a plan to use his house as a blimp to sail to South America - powered by helium baloons.
He reluctantly collects a band of followers - a boy-scout named Russell who happened to be on the porch of the elevating house, and who is lacking a father figure in his life. They also find Kevin, an exotic local bird and Dug, a hunting dog empowered with speech.
I would hope that my Year 12 boys could see the messages of Belonging in there - That Our Relationships and Friendships Are More Valuable Than Our Possessions. That Finding A Sense of Belonging Gives A Sense of Purpose & Identity. That The Places And People We Feel We Belong To Are Not Always The Only Choices We Have. But I am not holding my breath. Hopefully they will get there by November...
It is a brilliant animation. And a very good film. But it isn't going to get my pick in the Oscars Fest.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Mother to One Hundred And Ten
Taking the gig of Year Coordinator for year 7 at the Boy Factory I knew was going to be a big job. Everyone told me it would be huge. I was prepared for it to be epic, large and difficult.
Turns out not prepared enough really.
There is little one can do to prepare for the onslaught of the incessant questions of 110 inquisitive boys. And less to brace one's self for 16 crying, homesick boys. And their teary mothers with their stretched-to-breaking-point umbilical chords on the telephone.
It has been all big days and heaps of walking up and down stairs. Answering about a million questions a day, and telling boys to go to the dorm, leave the dorm, tuck their shirts in, eat their food, and where the classroom is.
And telling a cherub faced boy that there is no way he can get out of coming to Yr 7 camp in a few weeks and watching big fat tears spill onto his cheeks was just too much, and it made me cry too.
22 days til they go home for the weekend. But who is counting...?
Turns out not prepared enough really.
There is little one can do to prepare for the onslaught of the incessant questions of 110 inquisitive boys. And less to brace one's self for 16 crying, homesick boys. And their teary mothers with their stretched-to-breaking-point umbilical chords on the telephone.
It has been all big days and heaps of walking up and down stairs. Answering about a million questions a day, and telling boys to go to the dorm, leave the dorm, tuck their shirts in, eat their food, and where the classroom is.
And telling a cherub faced boy that there is no way he can get out of coming to Yr 7 camp in a few weeks and watching big fat tears spill onto his cheeks was just too much, and it made me cry too.
22 days til they go home for the weekend. But who is counting...?
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