Watched “Pleasantville” on DVD tonight. I liked it better this time, but it’s still pretty obvious and heavy-handed. The message is a good one, though, and the black-and-white photography is creamy and gorgeous. It makes me want to see more current movies filmed in B&W.
Category: words mean things (Page 170 of 223)
I’m not making this up, Part II
Apparently everyone’s favorite reformed non-lesbian, Anne Heche, will reveal to Barbara Walters tomorrow night that up until a year ago, she had an alternate personality named Celestia, who spoke directly with God. Oh my sweet lord. Her relationship with Ellen Degeneres, she says, was her way of working out the pain caused by the abuse she suffered at the hands of her closeted gay father.
Words fail me.
Can you believe I’m going to link to one of my own sites for the second time? I can’t believe it either. But I’m really pleased at how Mike’s photography site turned out, and I hope you will be too. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get a freelance job or two out of it. And if you’re in Madison on September 15 (opening night) or October 5 (Gallery Night), stop by Radical Rye on State Street and tell Mike that Adam sent you.
So Suey tells me that in England, pants are not pants – that’s what they call underwear. So underwear is pants, and pants are trousers, I guess. Follow me? Which casts a funny light on the Dockers “Nice pants” campaign, where men in various public situations are ogled below the waist by women who exclaim, you guessed it, “Nice pants.” I have always loved regional U.S. terms for things (sofa, couch, davenport), and now I’m equally fascinated by English-American differences. As the saying goes, we’re two countries separated by a common language.
“Basil, you have a kipper sticking out of your jumper.” -Sybil Fawlty
I am not making this up. Jason Alexander’s upcoming sitcom, “Bob Patterson,” already nothing more than a bald-faced attempt to cash in on what’s left of the George Costanza concept, co-stars a woman playing Patterson’s black, disabled, klutzy secretary. Yes, you heard me right. If it weren’t for King of Queens, I would say it’s time to take the sitcom out back and put it out of all our miseries.
I’m off to the family reunion in Chicago today, back Monday sometime. At least this year, I don’t have to be the host. Look through the archives, and entertain yourself at my expense. Enjoy.
After the movie, Part III:
My mother and I went to see “Forrest Gump.” Gary Sinise was fantastic as usual as the (eventually) legless Lt. Dan. As my mother and I left the theater, she turned to me and said, “I’m so pleased they hired a man with no legs to play that man with no legs.” “Mom,” I said, “Do you remember in the beginning of the movie when he had legs? I don’t think he had them cut off midway through filming. Gary Sinise does, in fact, have legs.”
I love my mom.
After the movie, Part II:
We were leaving an opening-night screening of “The Blair Witch Project,” which I personally found intriguing and creepy. The minute we got outside, still surrounded by people going in for the next show, my friend Elizabeth practically shouted, “I’m so glad that *bitch* got killed!”
After the movie, Part I:
I once had an acquaintance, Peter, who was something of a snob. The first time I met him, he tagged along when a bunch of us went to see “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape” (see earlier post). The centerpiece of the movie is a birthday party at the Grape’s for DiCaprio’s Arnie. As we got into the car after the movie, Peter piped up with, “I can’t believe [Gilbert’s mom] could invite people over to her house when it looked like that.”
Seen on the back of next week’s TV Guide: a promotional ad for Barbara Walters’ 20/20 interview with sometime lesbian Anne Heche. A giant closeup of Heche’s wraithlike face, topped by the headline “Call me crazy.” (!) I don’t know whether to set my VCR or run screaming into the hills like the Unabomber. Pop culture can do that to a person.