Sunday, November 15, 2009
Where The Wild Things Are
I think my seven year old son and I may be the only people in America right now who don’t like the movie “Where the wild things are.” Even President Obama noted that he spent last weekend watching it with his daughters and that he thought it was “pretty good.” I am not sure what went wrong for us but my son’s thumbs down sign and comment “its a big bummer” at the end of it pretty much summed it up. It was a big bummer. Granted, it is a visually beautiful film. It is sensitive in its depictions and emotionally insightful. Yes, the monsters live up to all the vividness that childhood imagination can muster (not an easy feat for sure) and the scenery is both evocative and breathtaking. The director clearly loved this project and it shows through the nuances in the costumes, the acting, the music and the script. And yet, the movie ultimately left me feeling like I wished I hadn’t seen it. More importantly, I wished I hadn’t taken my two children to it.
Genevieve, my two year old, had no problems with it. To her, the big hairy wild things were fun and cuddly and loveable. Their romps through the forest, the smashing of their “nests” and their massive piling up on one another to sleep was taken at face value – pure entertainment. There were no dark subtexts and certainly no unsettlingly ambiguous feelings. My seven year old boy, Dominic, on the other hand, clearly experienced the darker side of the movie. He found it disturbing that the teenagers at the start of the movie smashed Max’s carefully crafted igloo and did not understand why that had to happen. “It wasn’t in the book, mom. Why were they so mean?” My son gasped when Max ended up in the throat of one of the wild things and sobbed when Max ultimately left the beasts crying on the shore to return home. My son’s discomfort was not particularly assuaged by the moments of fun and frivolity. Rather, both he and I felt the disconcerting undercurrent of menace and danger that lurked throughout the film. Dominic sobbed at the end and said that the film was “nothing like the book.” I agreed. Sendak’s beautiful musings on the freedom of childhood expression, escapism and the ultimate safe harbor provided by a loving family were hardly traceable in the movie. Instead, we got a dark, dark film about the damage of dysfunctional families and its enduring presence in our lives. Whether in dreams or reality, the cold, sad limits of family relationships (a major theme in this movie) left both me and my family wanting to escape back to Sendak’s world where no matter what happens dinner will be waiting for you and it will be “still hot.”
Genevieve, my two year old, had no problems with it. To her, the big hairy wild things were fun and cuddly and loveable. Their romps through the forest, the smashing of their “nests” and their massive piling up on one another to sleep was taken at face value – pure entertainment. There were no dark subtexts and certainly no unsettlingly ambiguous feelings. My seven year old boy, Dominic, on the other hand, clearly experienced the darker side of the movie. He found it disturbing that the teenagers at the start of the movie smashed Max’s carefully crafted igloo and did not understand why that had to happen. “It wasn’t in the book, mom. Why were they so mean?” My son gasped when Max ended up in the throat of one of the wild things and sobbed when Max ultimately left the beasts crying on the shore to return home. My son’s discomfort was not particularly assuaged by the moments of fun and frivolity. Rather, both he and I felt the disconcerting undercurrent of menace and danger that lurked throughout the film. Dominic sobbed at the end and said that the film was “nothing like the book.” I agreed. Sendak’s beautiful musings on the freedom of childhood expression, escapism and the ultimate safe harbor provided by a loving family were hardly traceable in the movie. Instead, we got a dark, dark film about the damage of dysfunctional families and its enduring presence in our lives. Whether in dreams or reality, the cold, sad limits of family relationships (a major theme in this movie) left both me and my family wanting to escape back to Sendak’s world where no matter what happens dinner will be waiting for you and it will be “still hot.”
The Hakawati
When my art gallery owner friend said “I loved it,” I knew I needed to read this book. Afterall, I admire my friend's taste immensely and his ability to read so many fascinating books while commuting between his gallery in NYC and his home in SF. Inspite of his intimidating lifestyle, he is smart, funny and extremely down to earth. I just knew we would be on the same page. And I was wrong.
“Hakawati” is storyteller in Arabic. And Rabih Alameddine provides us with many story tellers (himself included) as he weaves one giant book of classic tales, myths and legends with more personal stories of contemporary Lebanon. The story centers on a man returning from Los Angeles to Beirut to be with his dying father and his family. The stories of his family, both past and present are then woven around larger stories, classical and folk tales and adventures involving lust, love, murder, scandal, war and betrayal. As a novelist, Alameddine crafts a complex structure, shaping subtle parallels between the classic tales and the central story of a family in war-torn Beirut. Using multiple storylines, Alameddine digresses switching between the various narrative threads to create a rich tapestry which really does begin to feel like a magic carpet of sorts. The stories within the stories pile lavishly on top of each other, blending and becoming more and more entwined as the novel progresses. Alameddine’s mastery in pacing these stories is evident and admirable.
Still, I didn’t enjoy the read. While I appreciated the skills necessary to pull off a book of this complexity, I struggled almost from the outset to keep track of the various narratives which would jump back and forth, often with no warning (and sometimes for only a paragraph or two) between past and present, ancient and modern. As someone who has to constantly put down any book she reads, (to break up a sibling row or rush out for carpool), I would find myself coming back to the book completely disoriented. I would wonder what had just happened, who the characters were and why did I really care?
I knew intellectually that I was meant to love this book. So I kept telling myself I simply needed more practice in reading it. And perhaps I do. Art gallery owner refers to it as a "damn near perfect read" and I don't doubt his take on it. Jetting back and forth from NYC to SF, my friend immerses himself in the convoluted storylines and takes Alameddine's "magic carpet ride" for all its worth. My carpet ride requires dragging my over-amped kids across the floor on a worn blanket ten minutes before bedtime. It isn’t quite the same and I suspect it makes the difference.
“Hakawati” is storyteller in Arabic. And Rabih Alameddine provides us with many story tellers (himself included) as he weaves one giant book of classic tales, myths and legends with more personal stories of contemporary Lebanon. The story centers on a man returning from Los Angeles to Beirut to be with his dying father and his family. The stories of his family, both past and present are then woven around larger stories, classical and folk tales and adventures involving lust, love, murder, scandal, war and betrayal. As a novelist, Alameddine crafts a complex structure, shaping subtle parallels between the classic tales and the central story of a family in war-torn Beirut. Using multiple storylines, Alameddine digresses switching between the various narrative threads to create a rich tapestry which really does begin to feel like a magic carpet of sorts. The stories within the stories pile lavishly on top of each other, blending and becoming more and more entwined as the novel progresses. Alameddine’s mastery in pacing these stories is evident and admirable.
Still, I didn’t enjoy the read. While I appreciated the skills necessary to pull off a book of this complexity, I struggled almost from the outset to keep track of the various narratives which would jump back and forth, often with no warning (and sometimes for only a paragraph or two) between past and present, ancient and modern. As someone who has to constantly put down any book she reads, (to break up a sibling row or rush out for carpool), I would find myself coming back to the book completely disoriented. I would wonder what had just happened, who the characters were and why did I really care?
I knew intellectually that I was meant to love this book. So I kept telling myself I simply needed more practice in reading it. And perhaps I do. Art gallery owner refers to it as a "damn near perfect read" and I don't doubt his take on it. Jetting back and forth from NYC to SF, my friend immerses himself in the convoluted storylines and takes Alameddine's "magic carpet ride" for all its worth. My carpet ride requires dragging my over-amped kids across the floor on a worn blanket ten minutes before bedtime. It isn’t quite the same and I suspect it makes the difference.
Whip It
I wish I could take credit for picking this month’s movie “Whip It” – but I can’t. My effortlessly stylish architect friend and his equally fashionable husband chose this flick after overriding my half-hearted vote for “Zombieland.” “You picked “Drag me to Hell” last time,” my friend quipped. “It won’t be your turn to pick again for a while.” Fine….I didn’t really care. Any excuse to leave the kids at home and go out for a night and escape!
And escape we did! “Whip it” is a delightful film that leaves you feeling like a teenager again - one that really wants to go out and buy some skates! It’s a lively, light, fun-loving little film with just enough of those time-tested themes of girl power, friendship and the difficult mother-daughter bond to make it feel comfortably familiar and yet also fresh and different. The film centers around the wondrous world of women roller derbies and a young woman’s struggle to find her identity. (Er, sounds familiar, anyone?). Seriously, it’s a great coming of age flick that has all the right ingredients to make it a good (not great) movie. Ellen Page (of Juno fame) gives a solid performance as the dorky, fringy Texas teen, Bliss Cavendar, who longs to escape the suffocating confines of a small town. Marcia Gay Harden beautifully plays Bliss’s mother whose unrelenting pressure to make her daughter into a “true lady” through beauty pageants provides much of the film’s emotional content. It’s not hard to see why Bliss falls for the sexy, raucous, renegade life-style of women skaters. The film masterfully juxtaposes the stilted, insincere, superficial world of southern beauty pageants with the exhilaratingly speed, spontaneity and solidarity of rough, raucous women in a roller derby rink. From Barbie skates to team names like “The Hurl Scouts” and “The Holey Rollers’, this flick is definitely a fun ride from the start all the way to the finish line.
And escape we did! “Whip it” is a delightful film that leaves you feeling like a teenager again - one that really wants to go out and buy some skates! It’s a lively, light, fun-loving little film with just enough of those time-tested themes of girl power, friendship and the difficult mother-daughter bond to make it feel comfortably familiar and yet also fresh and different. The film centers around the wondrous world of women roller derbies and a young woman’s struggle to find her identity. (Er, sounds familiar, anyone?). Seriously, it’s a great coming of age flick that has all the right ingredients to make it a good (not great) movie. Ellen Page (of Juno fame) gives a solid performance as the dorky, fringy Texas teen, Bliss Cavendar, who longs to escape the suffocating confines of a small town. Marcia Gay Harden beautifully plays Bliss’s mother whose unrelenting pressure to make her daughter into a “true lady” through beauty pageants provides much of the film’s emotional content. It’s not hard to see why Bliss falls for the sexy, raucous, renegade life-style of women skaters. The film masterfully juxtaposes the stilted, insincere, superficial world of southern beauty pageants with the exhilaratingly speed, spontaneity and solidarity of rough, raucous women in a roller derby rink. From Barbie skates to team names like “The Hurl Scouts” and “The Holey Rollers’, this flick is definitely a fun ride from the start all the way to the finish line.
About Me
Welcome to Justine's Journal. Let me tell you a little bit about me and what my blog is all about.
I am a San Francisco attorney who has spent the past five years raising my two children in this incredible city by the bay. My son Dominic is seven years old and is busy working on finding a cure for the swine flu at present. My two year old Genevieve started preschool this fall and cares about little else except cuddles and coloring. They are both true originals and I love them more than I can say. When I am not juggling my kid's social calendars, I moonlight as an appellate attorney, drafting long convoluted arguments against the termination of parental rights. I started this blog to give myself a creative outlet, beyond helping my daughter finger paint and building killer robots with my son. I figured this blog would be a good way to give myself some time to reflect and write about things that are relevant to my life. With any luck, it will hopefully entertain a few friends and family along the way.
Enjoy!
I am a San Francisco attorney who has spent the past five years raising my two children in this incredible city by the bay. My son Dominic is seven years old and is busy working on finding a cure for the swine flu at present. My two year old Genevieve started preschool this fall and cares about little else except cuddles and coloring. They are both true originals and I love them more than I can say. When I am not juggling my kid's social calendars, I moonlight as an appellate attorney, drafting long convoluted arguments against the termination of parental rights. I started this blog to give myself a creative outlet, beyond helping my daughter finger paint and building killer robots with my son. I figured this blog would be a good way to give myself some time to reflect and write about things that are relevant to my life. With any luck, it will hopefully entertain a few friends and family along the way.
Enjoy!
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