Slumdog Millionare

Best movie of the year.
Slumdog Millionare, Brit director Danny Boyle's (Trainspotting) latest, takes us on a tour of modern-day India through the memories of Jamal Malik (Dev Patel), an office worker who has just won millions of dollars on the program, "Who Wants to Be A Millionare?" Since he is just a "slumdog," his honor is challenged and he is accused of cheating and questioned by police. The interrogation reveals a tapestry of events in Jamal's young and tragic life, woven together by screenwriter Simon Beaufoy (based on the novel Q&A, by Vikas Swarup), that contains clues as to where this young man found the answers. The result is a beautiful, heartbreaking and ultimately redemptive story of love and survival in a brutal world.

It's not you, it's me

It isn’t working. And if I’m honest with myself, it never was.

We got together last March when his predecessor, a small blue Pantech, lost his head. I'd had high hopes for that one -- I nicknamed him Zoolander phone, because it looked like the one Zoolander had in that movie. But he was too small to live, though we had some good times together. For awhile, I tried taping both halves of his body together, but eventually, there was nothing anyone could do.

They said this one – a Nokia – was my only option, since the Zoolander was no longer being made. I’m not one to settle, but it seemed like all a girl of my means could do.

I hoped for the best. I tried to ignore his weird habits, like delivering my texts days after they were sent, only dialing out on his terms, always being tired (he's had a hard day), sometimes not letting my calls through (he's just protective, and a little jealous!) but it wasn't easy. I felt he was too masculine, with his big brute exterior, big buttons and even larger font.

I felt like he never suited me.

We reached the last bar, if you will, when the offenses became just too obvious. I would call out, and though I could hear who I called, they couldn't hear me. I was constantly taking his battery out and putting it back in; it was exhausting. I missed a few important calls, and friends thought i was ignoring them. What if there was an emergency?

It was with this resolute understanding I took him to 42nd and 5th yesterday. I’d stopped into another Cingular (excuse me, AT & T) the day before, flirting with the idea of leaving him there and ending it for good. I would cut my losses and run. But it turned out there was hope: the salesman believed I was under my warranty. I could trade him in for a new model, just like a man having a mid-life crisis! Just go to 42nd and 5th he said. I felt like I was sent to see the wizard.

I signed in at the magical 42nd and 5th cell phone repair center and waited for thirty minutes. The crowd was like the one you would find at a tow center: a sad, sorry lot, knowing they are about to get ripped off. Sighs filled the air. But not me, I had hope. A young, bespectacled man with a moustache asked if he could help.

“Yes, my phone’s not working, I understand I may be eligible for a new one since it is still within my warranty?” He went to type on his computer.


“It’s never worked," I added. "Not since I got it.” He looked back up at me patiently. I told him everything – the disappointment I felt, the betrayal, and that I didn’t ask for much, just the ability to receive calls, and that this phone just seemed incapable of even that. I didn’t even want internet! When I was finished, he looked back down at his computer.


“I’m sorry ma’am, but this is a refurbished phone. The warranty is up after 90 days.”

I stood, and tried to not to show my sinking heart. "But... I never even wanted him. He was all they would give me."


Spectacles was sympathetic, but unmoved. Was I at least eligible for a free upgrade?

“No, it says here you’re not.”

I wanted to say more, but realized there was nothing left to say. It was over. I turned to go, and he called after me. I stopped, and turned around.

"Theres a store, right down the block, if you want to try that one. Maybe the computer’s wrong, maybe you can get that upgrade.”

I saluted him, and walked to the next store.

New Salesman on 41st and 5th was talking to someone, but asked if he could help me. I explained I needed a new phone, trying to shake off the dejection I still felt. As he took me to the section, I saw one that looked exactly like the one I had.

“No!" I said, shuddering. "Nothing like this one. I don’t care what it is, just nothing like this one. Not even the brand."

He gave me the same look the last man had.

We walked back to the computer where he, too, informed me I was not due for an upgrade yet. I could go to Best Buy, he suggested, and buy one of these (his arm waved over to the section of darkness, where they all looked chillingly like the one I had) but then would be charged $100 for them to activate it. I could get a new phone now, but anything that didn't look like the piece of crap I had was hundreds. Could I just cancel and go somewhere else? No, that would cost me too.


How much do I have to keep giving when I'm getting nothing back? I’d done everything right, I told him – paid my bills on time, charged him when he needed it, never got him wet...but I couldn’t win. It wouldn't work. How much longer did I have to wait for what I needed?

March 30, 2009, said the salesman.

Saturday Medley

On Saturday, after having two cavities filled, I tried to dull my mild existential unease at having to face uncomfortable and physically painful moments throughout life by hunkering down in front of the television.

On this rainy day, I found my attention split between Kramer vs. Kramer and Reign Over Me, neither of which I'd seen before. I always think it's interesting watching movies in this sort of context (laying on your couch, not totally committed), as opposed to the focused attention you'll give something you paid ten bucks for, or rented for an evening.

Reign Over Me was really good in that subtle, Saturday morning way. It may not have been the best pick for trying to feel better about life, as one of the main characters, Charlie Fineman (Adam Sandler), is suffering from post-traumatic stress after losing his wife and three daughters in one of the plane crashes on 9/11. When his former roommate from dental school, Alan Johnson (Don Cheadle) runs into Charlie, he's saddened to see what the loss has done to his old friend -- Charlie is barely functioning in society, living in a bubble world that is guarded by his landlady and accountant, the only people he lets in, despite repeated attempts from his former in-laws to be in his life. He can't face the memory of his family, or the horrifying circumstances of their death.

Alan is also intrigued by the life Charlie has set up for himself, a solitary life based on scootering through the streets of New York, Mel Brooks comedy movies, and video games. His wife even accuses him of being jealous of Charlie's freedom.

Their rekindled friendship cracks open a window out Charlie's world, and he begins to experience life a little more, which doesn't always bring the best consequences. Alan changes too, recognizing in himself the ways that he too has shut people out.

Adam Sandler's performance was great... at times heartbreaking, at times funny. When he is finally able to talk to his wife's parents, telling them it's easier for them because they still have eachother, and that he sees his family everywhere, which is why he doesn't need to talk about it, my numbed face came very close to showing emotion. And then when he said, "I even see the dog. A german shepard walks in I see a poodle. That's how f-ed up I still am" (referring to the family dog, who was also on board), I shed a tear (from the active, left side of my face.)

Kramer vs. Kramer, a classic, was also quite good. I only saw the last twenty minutes which I think is enough for me to confidently say I agree that Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep are fine actors! And that kid was damn cute.

Also, soundtrack to Reign Over Me was amazing! Charlie uses his headphones to tune out the world and has a great choice of stuff to do it with. Really liked the Springsteen, and the Pretenders song, Stop Your Sobbing.

Yeah they did

:)

Yes we can

Spring Mermaid

Whenever it was 3 in the morning and we were working on deadline at my college newspaper, desperate to file a review, a co-editor would tell me to just say they were a revelation. The newest chick flick? A revelation. The star of Fordham’s latest theatrical effort? A revelation.
For the first time I really want to use that word to describe Spring Awakening, which I finally (finally) saw last week. The musical is so different from most you find these days, with its fist-pumping, punk, soundtrack, and devastating story of teenage self discovery.
Set in Germany in 1891, the play begins in a classroom, with a harsh disciplinarian headmaster. Students are not rewarded for questioning the world around them, but punished, and any “impure” conversation is left in whispers. Bright young Meltchior (Hunter Parrish, in his Broadway debut, best known for his spot on Showtime’s hit series Weeds) lives spiritedly, and questions the repressive world around him. He finds a kindred spirit in Wendla (Emily Kinney), a pretty young German who lives nearby, who is tragically naïve to the ways of the world. The show cruelly depicts the consequences of not being true to yourself (or of trying to stay true to yourself) despite the conflicting current of the world around you.
Parrish is charismatic as young Meltchior, but I kept finding myself wondering what the original cast member’s take was on the part, which makes me think his performance could have been better, because I never once second guessed the dazzling performance of the experienced Gerard Canonico as Moritz, a troubled, lost young teen who simply couldn’t live within the bounds of the society around him. His voice, full of pain and energy, fills up the entire theater. People in the rows were struggle not to rock out with the cast up until the moving finale of The Song of Purple Summer.
On Saturday, I joined my family, and a cute three-year-old seated in front of me for The Little Mermaid on Broadway, where the theater itself is aqua-themed and bright, inviting you into the fun, and a far cry from Spring Awakening… OR WAS IT?
Both are about the consequences of excessive parental or societal control. People rebel – mostly through song, when it comes to Broadway, whether it is Ariel singing longingly to be a part of another world, or the heartbreaking lyrics of “I Don’t Do Sadness,” Moritz’ best song in Spring Awakening. And without the right information, the consequences can be disastrous: in Spring Awakening, they are a suicide and an unwanted pregnancy and in the Little Mermaid, it's making a deal with the devil to get legs.
The Little Mermaid is an incredibly professional and lively production, featuring a stellar cast. Sierra Burgess is pitch perfect as Arial, and Ursula (Sherie Rene Scott) almost steals the show, with a slightly feminist take on the villain (she won’t take her voice for granted again, she muses about Ariel, once she knows what it’s like to be silenced).
The Little Mermaid, since its Disney, predictably delivers the characters safely through the difficult transition of adulthood, while the characters of Spring Awakening are not so fortunate. They both end on a note of promise, whether it’s with the traditional “girl meets boy and lives happily ever after,” or the solitary figure of hope amidst ruin in Spring Awakening.
(Also, I got a cool Little Mermaid cup on my way out of the theater, which makes me happy and hopeful.)

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Since Michael Dirda says it better than my press release...

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/10/30/AR2008103003614.html

On sale today! Come on, a biography of a Jesuit poet who conquers loneliness and despair through faith and poetry... a great gift for the banker/stockbroker in your family!