Lost in Translation

With a beautiful title like Nuovomondo I think Miramax would have made out better if they'd stuck with the original Italian for Emanuele Crialese's story of a family's journey from Sicily to the U.S. Golden Door was a beautiful film, and deserved a nice round word like "Nuovomondo" to match its sensuality.

From the opening scene where I could almost feel the chalky rock in my moth as father and son climbed a mountain looking for an answer, the movie was filled with vivid pictures so rich I would almost feel them. Whether they were real, like the giant fish being hawked when the family arrived in the port city, or imagined, like the mammoth phallic carrot or the coins falling from the tree. Certain shots stand out too, like the pull out from the barren rocky terrain they call home at the beginning, to the awesome separation of the masses on the ships deck from the masses on shore as the ship departs.

As you know, I'm a big fan of the waif known as Charlotte Gainsbourg. She was an interesting pale contrast to the Italians on the boat, and I'm not completely sure I understand her character, but it was interesting.

One of the most unique features was pairing what I take to be Sicilian peasant music with a couple stellar Nina Simone tunes ("Sinnerman" and "Feelin' Good." The timing was really effective - which doesn't always happen when music from one time is injected into stories from another.

It's hard to imagine a life so hard that you would leave it for dreams of a land where rivers of milk flow for those who work hard. And we think we've heard every type of immigrant story, but this one is different in that it focuses not on the struggle to survive in the new world, but on the decision to leave and the journey itself. If you get a chance to rent this, I hope you like it, but it might be one of those bizarre tales that not everyone will find as beautiful as I do.

Do I need to report this to HR?

No trip to L.A. is complete without a celebrity sighting, right? Well, although the plane ride back with several members of Big Bad Voodoo Daddy would have fulfilled the requirement, we had already made the grade in Santa Monica last Monday. My friend Joe and I were blindly wandering the promenade half listening to people trying their luck at reality TV's latest regurgitation, "The Moment of Truth," while we waited for Erin and Jill to finish up at Banana Republic.

Suddenly, Joe was talking to a stranger, and asking him to pose for a picture, which I of course was asked to execute. Here you see the result, and if you watch the Office, you should recognize the actor to the right. I didn't, because I've only seen the show a couple times. I won't say his name here in case that violates some copyright law - I didn't get him to sign a photo release after all - but enjoy it, if you enjoy him. He's the one on the right, by the way. The other one is Joe.

And there was...

So I'm running a few weeks behind on my movie reviews. I caught an early Sunday matinee of P.T. Anderson's latest film, There Will Be Blood earlier this month. Although I often shy away from "historical epics" I am nonetheless always in pursuit of Paul Thomas Anderson, and Daniel Day Lewis. Neither of them disappointed with this film. Lewis was outstanding, even if he looked like Tom Selleck at times. Really one of the finest acting jobs I've seen in years. And there were some breathtaking shots, and the opening scenes, with their almost absent dialogue really drew me in.

I'll stop short of saying I loved it though, and it's because like Mr. A's other films (Magnolia being the exception) there was a point about 3/5 in, where I started to wonder if it was going to be too long... started to wonder if the movie was starting to take a turn for the bad and boring. This happened in Hard 8 and in Boogie Nights, and so I suppose I recognized the Anderson Fatigue for what it was, and accepted it. In the end, I found myself laughing at the absurdity of the story, and wondering how I got there, but all in all, it was a darn good flick.

I'm pretty behind on seeing movies too, and I know I have a lot of catching up to do. My goals this weekend are to see do my taxes, write my belated xmas thank-yous, and see Persepolis. Small goals, I know, and acheivable, but I have a way of letting the time slip by these days. Check with me on Monday.

Happy New Year

Who the hell is Frank Langella? And how did they know he would be a perfect Leonard Schiller? Well - he's one of those actors who has played countless minor roles, and seems completely familiar because of it. But very few of us could tell you where we've seen him.

Starting Out in The Evening stars Mr. L. as a forgotten novelist who may or may not ever finish his next book. Lauren Ambrose plays Heather, a brilliant yet somewhat clueless literary criticism student, pursuing a teenage obsession with Schiller all the way to a thesis. She's smart and sexy, but is always going to be a little out of sync with the rest of the world. Her awkward persistence finally charms the old man, just in time for her to finish her project and slip out of his life. But that's okay, he knows he doesn't want it anyway when she orders beer when he obviously wanted to share a fine wine with her.

Playing along is Lili Taylor, charming as always, as the novelist's always-present daughter. There's history there and it's mentioned here and there. But mainly Ariel remains a genuinely believable contemporary woman, and we her and her partner Casey (Adrian Lester) continuing to grow up and learn from the father, even at 40.

Nice little movie - a look at people who may very well exist in real life, but who you won't probably ever meet because they're too shy. Pretty suitable for a quiet snowy New Year's Eve.