The Long Hot Summer

I don't know about you, but my summer is almost gone (try less than 2 weeks).
I've been busy this summer--busier than I've ever been before.

But I've still managed to make time for good things.



The cast is perfect, of course. Orson Welles, and Angela Lansbury join Newman and Woodward.



Since this was my first re-watching of a Paul Newman movie since his death, I thought I would be more concerned with him. And he's great, but this film is all about Woodward.



Her picnic basket speech is so wonderful. I love it.



And as if you needed any other reason to watch this movie, this is the movie where Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward met, were married after the completion of filming, and spent the next 70 years of their life together.



It's a hot movie.

Solve for x

Math and I are not friends.

I am currently studying for a test. It's a required test for my major.

Even though my major has never been (and most certainly never will be) math, the test includes a large math section.

I have been beating my brains out for the past 3 days trying to review all the math sections, and will continue to do so for the next 9. My life does not look promising.

I hate math. I mean it. I genuinely hate math. Leave me with my books, my movies, my music. Give me subjects to discuss, people to study, something important to pay attention to. Give me words, poems, or stories. Give me characters to discuss, prose to study, and places to visit.

But please, I beg you, don't leave me with piles of numbers, formulas, phrases, angles, and vague letters that mean nothing.

Don't you know it's cruel to use x as your it-stands-for-anything-possible-letter? I now hate x, and I don't want to. X was meant for better things. It was meant for words like exquisite, xylophone, existential, existentialist, Xanax, and Oxford (I have many more). But when you just make it sit there like that, all by itself-alone, and plain, I feel sorry for it.

Let x go back to where it belongs--comfortably nestled in taxidermy.

How's this for exciting news?

Technically 1/4th of my life is over.

What have I learned in this past year? A lot. Tons and tons. My mind was full of little life lessons I had learned and could now share with you. There were going to be charming anecdotes, witty phrases, and good warm comfort (think "Chicken Soup for the blogger")

The problem, however, is at this moment there is only one thing I want you to know. In fact, I want to yell it from the rooftops, scream it in the streets, and post it on my blog.

Here it is:

The grave-digger scene in Hamlet is NOT for comic relief.

Seriously, that's it.

I'm busy

I'm enjoying my foreign film too much, so I don't have time to tell you about my life.

I'm going to cheat. For this weeks post, I'm giving you an essay I wrote for a class. It's about foreign films. I would change some stuff now, but I'm enjoying my movie. Enjoy.


Foreign Films

As soon as I mentioned it, I got a look. It was a look of I-fear-for-your-soul. The person then said, “But aren’t they all bad?” I didn’t roll my eyes—you have to give me credit for that. I just stopped talking. My acquaintance had the belief that all foreign films are bad. That’s not true.

I remember sitting down to watch my first foreign film and not knowing what to expect. I knew there would be subtitles—but subtitles I can handle. I watch American movies with subtitles all the time. I wasn’t expecting, however, how interesting the subtitles would be. The main pleasure of subtitles is watching the dialogue. After a few movies, you have a new appreciation for screenwriters.

An added pleasure of subtitles is seeing the differences and similarities in language between the foreign film and English. Seeing the words in English then hearing the foreign word, you begin to see the connections between the two languages. It’s fascinating. The latter pleasure is one abandoned in dubbed versions. Then, the only difference and similarity that the viewer is concerned about is the actor’s mouth and the actor’s words (often more a difference than a similarity).

I knew foreign films were supposed to have strong social messages. That phrase had always amused me. What social message isn’t strong? Aren’t American films filled with social messages? But when I watched my first foreign film, I understood what the phrase meant. In America, we like to couch our social messages, hide them in big explosions, big kisses, and big plots. I didn’t realize that other countries and other movies were so direct in what they wanted to say. Take M, the German film directed by Fritz Lang, and its multiple social messages. Are parents protecting their children? Are there crimes that the criminal should not be held punishable for? Is vigilante justice an acceptable course of action? None of these messages are hidden from the viewer. Viewers are forced to make a decision about how they think. I didn’t expect that.

Foreign films treat romantic relationships differently. In Il y a longtemps que je t'aime (I’ve Loved You So Long) Juliette and Michel are the couple, but their screen time together is limited. The movie instead chooses to follow Juliette and her sister, Lea, as they rebuild their relationship. In Bella Martha (Mostly Martha), the relationship between Martha and Mario seems to take center stage, until the viewer is distracted by the relationship between Martha and Lina, Martha’s niece. There is not a get-together moment in either of these films. There are no public professions of undying love, no kisses in the street, no explanation of misunderstandings; there is just a relationship. Juliette and Michel find peace in an art gallery; Martha and Mario drive to retrieve Lina. It’s quiet.

My greatest surprise and greatest joy of foreign films are their beauty. The night I watched Les quatre cents coups (The 400 Blows), I was not in the mood for a serious film. I quickly realized it didn’t matter what I was in the mood for—this movie demanded my attention. The cinematography was incredible, the dialogue was intense, and the movie was beautiful. So beautiful. When I got to the shot, that one shot, that famous, important, first-time-ever zoom into a freeze frame shot—I missed it. When a friend asked me about it, I remembered the moment, and I remembered the feeling, but I didn’t remember the shot—all I remembered was the overwhelming beauty.

I feel bad sometimes because I ask too much of foreign films. The problem is that foreign films have never disappointed me—and I hope they never do.

I apologize

I know I haven't been here a lot this summer.

I have posted every week, but I think the last 4 or 5 have all been on Saturday.

It's not that I don't want to be here--I do. I've just been busy.

When I'm not working, I'm keeping myself occupied--with other things.

I haven't forgotten you though. I have tons of things I want to say to you.

I've been thinking. Some of those thoughts are finally coming together, they're finally fitting, their connections are growing, and I'm almost there. I'm almost ready to tell you what I'm learning.

I've even been writing. You'd be so proud of me. I have thoughts saved under Word, blogger, and even random scraps of paper. I'm almost ready to compile them and give them to you.

I need a little more time. Can you give me that? Just a little more time.
I'll probably be bombarding you with thoughts I want you to pay attention to soon.

But in the meantime, don't worry-I haven't forgotten you.

The Age of Innocence

I wanted this movie to go on forever.



There's a lot I could say about this movie.



I could talk about how correct an adaptation it is.



I could explain why people think Scorsese couldn't have made it, and why that makes those people stupid.



I could give quotes from Ebert's original review, and his Great Movie review.



I could tell you that Daniel Day-Lewis is incredible.



That Michelle Pfeiffer is amazing.



That Winona Ryder is awesome.



And that Martin Scorsese is genius.



But I'm not going to.



I'm just going to tell you I wanted this movie to go on forever.

I might as well admit it

This summer, I took another part-time job. I'm still working at the retail establishment, but I felt I needed more.

The hours at my other job weren't going to be as many as last year, and I needed money.

I was desperate.

Desperation causes people to agree to strange things. Things they would never agree to otherwise. Trust me.

I am now a tour guide.

I give tours at one of our town's historical sites.

And I'm doing it all dressed in period costume.

-I want you to think about those last few sentences (especially the last one), and smile. At least then someone would be finding humor out of this situation.