(5) Is "The Nun" a terribly-written, very-lightly-plotted excuse for a movie--without real characters? Yes. Do you need to see it? No.
And yet. And yet. A part of me loves the Catholic campiness. The graves in ancient Romania, with little bells attached, so if you were buried alive, you could pull on the string and the bell would ring, and passersby would take notice. The concept of "perpetual adoration": At least one nun is always chanting in Latin, hymns to the greatness of God, so that the Devil's wrath might be kept at bay. The scene where Taissa Farmiga has a special evil-defeating relic, with the blood of Jesus inside, but you think that the glass is broken and the blood has leaked out, but it turns out Taissa has been storing the blood in her mouth, and she spits it in the demon's face. What gay former Catholic wouldn't love this stuff? My seventeen dollars were wasted, yes--but I'll always have that memory of Taissa, with the blood of Jesus.
(4) I think often of Nora Ephron. I think of her because she recognized a certain element of bullying in our culture. It's the element that says: "You must take great pride in your body at all times."
Ephron said: "That's ridiculous. I feel bad about my breasts." Toward the end of her career, she said, "This culture wants me to value my beautiful old body. But I feel bad about my neck." She once said to her friend, Anne Lamott: "I plan to kill myself; I just need to lose five pounds first."
When I hear Meghan Trainor or Alessia Cara on the radio, I become deeply annoyed. That's because I detect a hectoring note in their ostensibly pro-humanity anthems. "You must feel proud that you are overweight." "You must feel proud that you do not resemble, say, Hugh Dancy." I think it's great that these singers feel this way about themselves, and if their anthems do something for some listeners, that's wonderful. But a big part of me always cringes when their loud voices come on the radio. A big part of me thinks: "How dare you tell me what to feel."
(3) One thing I really enjoy in the generally-unwatchable "Sharp Objects" is Amy Adams's performance. She makes me think about "cutting" in new ways. It seems plausible that someone so radiantly beautiful could also be haunted.
We sense in Adams's character a mighty struggle, particularly when she tries to coach her damaged younger cellmate: "You never actually overcome the problems. You just survive." I was blown away by Adams's composure and pain when the Patricia Clarkson character blithely said: "You're very much like your father, and I realize that's why I've never loved you." I keep watching, and watching, despite my frustration--and that's strictly because of Adams.
(2) One of the most famous opening sentences in literary history is from "The Stranger": "Today, Maman died." Why so powerful? Because it puts death front and center--where death will be, also, in the final line of the novel. Also, there's a tension between the simplicity of the sentence and the cosmic things it evokes: motherhood, the condition of being someone's child ("someone's adult child"), the mystery that is death. Your head spins--after three words. Just a thought.
(1) It seems the one and only major character Fuller created for "Hannibal" was Bedelia du Maurier. Obsessed. The campy name, alluding to Daphne du Maurier: Only a gay man would invent that. The opportunity for wacky, gorgeous Gillian Anderson--bisexual, bi-continental Gillian Anderson--to give long speeches while seeming to be half-lost-on-another-planet...It's enough to make me want to go back and watch "The Fall" (despite boring Jamie Dornan).
Ms. Anderson seems to be involved in a stage production of "All About Eve" now, which is fine. But really I'd like for her to move next door to me. And tell me all of her secrets. And be my friend. Or maybe I'd just like to *be* Gillian Anderson. In any case, I'm a man in love.
And yet. And yet. A part of me loves the Catholic campiness. The graves in ancient Romania, with little bells attached, so if you were buried alive, you could pull on the string and the bell would ring, and passersby would take notice. The concept of "perpetual adoration": At least one nun is always chanting in Latin, hymns to the greatness of God, so that the Devil's wrath might be kept at bay. The scene where Taissa Farmiga has a special evil-defeating relic, with the blood of Jesus inside, but you think that the glass is broken and the blood has leaked out, but it turns out Taissa has been storing the blood in her mouth, and she spits it in the demon's face. What gay former Catholic wouldn't love this stuff? My seventeen dollars were wasted, yes--but I'll always have that memory of Taissa, with the blood of Jesus.
(4) I think often of Nora Ephron. I think of her because she recognized a certain element of bullying in our culture. It's the element that says: "You must take great pride in your body at all times."
Ephron said: "That's ridiculous. I feel bad about my breasts." Toward the end of her career, she said, "This culture wants me to value my beautiful old body. But I feel bad about my neck." She once said to her friend, Anne Lamott: "I plan to kill myself; I just need to lose five pounds first."
When I hear Meghan Trainor or Alessia Cara on the radio, I become deeply annoyed. That's because I detect a hectoring note in their ostensibly pro-humanity anthems. "You must feel proud that you are overweight." "You must feel proud that you do not resemble, say, Hugh Dancy." I think it's great that these singers feel this way about themselves, and if their anthems do something for some listeners, that's wonderful. But a big part of me always cringes when their loud voices come on the radio. A big part of me thinks: "How dare you tell me what to feel."
(3) One thing I really enjoy in the generally-unwatchable "Sharp Objects" is Amy Adams's performance. She makes me think about "cutting" in new ways. It seems plausible that someone so radiantly beautiful could also be haunted.
We sense in Adams's character a mighty struggle, particularly when she tries to coach her damaged younger cellmate: "You never actually overcome the problems. You just survive." I was blown away by Adams's composure and pain when the Patricia Clarkson character blithely said: "You're very much like your father, and I realize that's why I've never loved you." I keep watching, and watching, despite my frustration--and that's strictly because of Adams.
(2) One of the most famous opening sentences in literary history is from "The Stranger": "Today, Maman died." Why so powerful? Because it puts death front and center--where death will be, also, in the final line of the novel. Also, there's a tension between the simplicity of the sentence and the cosmic things it evokes: motherhood, the condition of being someone's child ("someone's adult child"), the mystery that is death. Your head spins--after three words. Just a thought.
(1) It seems the one and only major character Fuller created for "Hannibal" was Bedelia du Maurier. Obsessed. The campy name, alluding to Daphne du Maurier: Only a gay man would invent that. The opportunity for wacky, gorgeous Gillian Anderson--bisexual, bi-continental Gillian Anderson--to give long speeches while seeming to be half-lost-on-another-planet...It's enough to make me want to go back and watch "The Fall" (despite boring Jamie Dornan).
Ms. Anderson seems to be involved in a stage production of "All About Eve" now, which is fine. But really I'd like for her to move next door to me. And tell me all of her secrets. And be my friend. Or maybe I'd just like to *be* Gillian Anderson. In any case, I'm a man in love.
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