Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: 2004, dir. Michel Gondry. Seen at Alamo Village (April 10).
I am writing this review much later than I intended, but it took awhile for me to get my thoughts in order about Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
It doesn’t matter that it’s been nearly a month, I still think Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a beautiful, splendid movie. And now at least I don’t have to worry so much about spoiling the movie for other people, since the buzz has been out and about and most people know the general premise. (If you haven’t seen it and don’t know, you probably don’t want to read the rest of this.)

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Chez Gaufres

[Still not part of the Schmoop Saga. Please be patient.]
Some of you know my boyfriend, and if you do, you already know about his crazy passionate love for the Waffle House.
I can understand it, sort of. I have been attached to certain diners myself. I still cherish fond memories of Louie’s Cafe in Baton Rouge, for example, although I don’t have any desire to go back there and see the place again. Some places are better remembered than re-experienced. I can say that I like ordering breakfast from dingy little diners, but I would really rather have some good biscuits and honey, or hash browns, or some non-greasy egg-based breakfast while playing Tom Waits’ “Night Hawks at the Diner” in my head.

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if the word fits …

[Note: This story is unrelated to the Schmoop Saga that I’ve been writing lately. I’ll finish it soon. No, really I will.]
My sister sounded unusually cranky on the phone. That’s not true. It sounded usually cranky. She does not often call with peppy news.
“We can’t call Denise [her three-year-old daughter] a drama queen anymore,” she told me.
“Why not?”
“She got in trouble at school today. She called her teacher a drama queen.”

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clicking. sparking. not hugging. (part three)

Let’s see. Where was I. Oh, yes, I was on the phone with my sister.
“I don’t know what to wear.”
“But is it a date? That’s how you’ll know what to wear.”
“I don’t know. How should I know?”
“Is he picking you up at your house?”
“No, we’re meeting at the theater.”
“Is it just a movie, or is he taking you to dinner after?”
“Just a movie. Although I have a sneaky plan for suggesting we go have a drink afterwards.”

Continue reading clicking. sparking. not hugging. (part three)

clicking? sparking? when? (part two)

I believe Our Story, the one demonstrating that love is not always at first sight or even tenth sight, last ended when I was entangled on a sofa at the 1920s Club with three or four other women, having what was later dubbed the notorious Mormon Lesbian conversation, in which we realized we all could not marry each other because we liked the menfolk too much to forsake them.

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clicking and sparking are just special effects (part one)

Tomorrow night the Austin Bloggers group is meeting at Opal Divine’s. My boyfriend and I are probably going.
Tomorrow will mark 13 months, to the day, since we first met. At Opal Divine’s.
It isn’t a very romantic story. It does not involve any sparking, clicking, or magical music playing in the background. It is remarkable only because it is so unremarkable.

Continue reading clicking and sparking are just special effects (part one)

There’s Something About Mary (1998)

There’s Something About Mary: 1998, dir. Bobby and Peter Farrelly. Seen on DVD (April 8).
There’s Something About Mary ruined my life, I tell you. Well, slightly.
I hadn’t seen the movie, but I felt its effects. I read scripts for a film competition in 1999 and it was obvious that a certain scene in this movie had an effect on comedy screenplays. Suddenly the taboos on precious bodily fluids in film had been lifted.

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Trouble in Paradise (1932)

Trouble in Paradise: 1932, dir. Ernst Lubitsch. Seen on DVD (April 7).
It was such a happy surprise, such a nice little gift, to watch Trouble in Paradise and realize that it was yet another movie that I would enjoy and love and remember fondly. You never know, with these early films, whether it will be a static dull dud (Morning Glory, for which Katharine Hepburn won an Oscar), or something that hasn’t dated and faded over the years.
The problem with Trouble in Paradise is that I cannot really talk about it without talking about Thirties movies in general, and how much I love them, and the qualities of these films and how this relates to Trouble in Paradise. If you don’t want to read about the evolution of the romantic comedy film … your loss, not mine. But you have been warned.

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The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre: 1948, dir. John Huston. Seen on DVD (March 28).
I had high hopes for The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. I thought it would be a wonderful adventure movie, full of action and bravado and quotable dialogue. I’m not the world’s biggest John Huston fan, but this seemed like the type of movie he would do very well.
I have to admit I was somewhat disappointed.

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