What happens after miscarriage

Peggy.

Some movies demand attention, and Something, Anything is one of those movies. It features a small-town real estate agent in Kentucky named Peggy, who has just married when at the beginning of the movie she experiences a miscarriage.

Her miscarriage is the force on which the rest of the movie turns: shortly afterward she leaves her husband, finds God, and gives up material things. Each reversal -- like when Peggy leaves her job to become a librarian -- is clearly portrayed as a rejection of society, and an embrace of "otherness," and her family and friends do not understand her choices. The movie, however, celebrates these changes as necessary to Peggy's enlightenment.

When Peggy tries to find the brother of an old high school classmate, who has since become a monk, it feel like a natural extension of Peggy's search for herself, and who she really is.

Something, Anything becomes slowly transfixing as it meditates on the questions of who are we, and why are we here? It never answers definitively whether they are to be found in God, or in you. For Peggy, it appears not to matter so much what the answer is, as long as she is asking the question.

When she finally finds her monk, their reunion is the end of an ellipsis, answering a question she never thought to ask, or asked years ago and then forgot. It’s surprising while still being utterly grounded in normalcy. I have never seen anything quite like it.

I heartily recommend watching Something, Anything, both as a sensitive treatment of the aftermath of a crisis, and as a tale that acknowledges people's flaws even as – especially as – they are asking for forgiveness.

Something, Anything was released in 2014. It is available to screen on Netflix.

Holiday in May // Baseball in June

Hi folks! It's been a while since you heard from me, so I'm doing a combination post to *hopefully* make up for it.

A not-so-veiled reference to "If you build it, they will come," one of the weirdest and yet best lines ever filmed.

Far From the Madding Crowd

I saw Far From the Madding Crowd twice, both times in theaters. That's something you hear people say about the Titanic. Except this is a period drama based on a Thomas Harding novel, set fifty years before the Titanic, and the heroine -- Bathsheba Everdene -- is an orphan with too much education and no prospects. That is, until she inherits a farm from a late uncle, and sets about making the most of it.

Played to perfection by Carey Mulligan, Bathsheba is the kind of female protagonist that other female protagonists dream of being. She can rear a lamb and wear nice frocks and stand up for her farm to businessmen who would rather it remain a man's world. She is a self-made woman in the strict sense of the term, turning down a marriage proposal in the first twenty minutes of the film because she doesn't know if she wants a husband.

But don't let that confuse you -- Far From the Madding Crowd is a very, very romantic movie.

SEE THE TENSION, FEEL THE TENSION

Gabriel Oak is the man who asks Bathsheba to marry him. His presence and advice shape Bathsheba's path, and he is the constant in an ever-changing stream of suitors. Their dynamic -- where neither is more powerful than the other, and yet they succeed in pushing each other onward -- holds up the plot when it trips and twists. Without her there would be no film; without him it would be a lesser one. (The cinematography is also gorgeous.)

Far From the Madding Crowd is a must-see. You can probably still catch it in theaters.



Hollidaysburg

Hollidaysburg is the first movie I've seen where the way people use their phones is portrayed accurately. The letters people text show up onscreen as they are texting them, giving what would otherwise be dead space 'air time' and a purpose.

Is this a tiny detail? Yes. Does it matter? YES>. 

In an otherwise quiet film, these texts are the glue. They betray relationships, give up secrets, allow characters to convey emotions and annoyances without verbalizing a word. True, texting is a fallible method of communication, but it's at its best when conveying humor, and for a post-teen-drama-comedy like Hollidaysburg it does the job serviceably.

The movie also has the benefits of being very charming and funny. Go-to underrated pick for 2014.


That's it! Night guys.

Seriously, go to sleep.

What we do when we're bored // wait for spring

Released in 1993, Groundhog Day is the perfect Bill Murray movie: perverse, meaningful, and hilarious. Given that yesterday was March 30th and the weather outside was 45 degrees and cloudy, it seems like an apt time to revisit The Winter That Never Ends (TM).

The premise of the film is that Murray is a weatherman who visits Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to cover Groundhog Day. He hates the place: it's provincial, boring, and he can't wait to get back home to Pittsburgh. That same day there's a blizzard, and when the next morning Murray wakes up still in Punxsutawney, it's Groundhog Day again. And again. And again. And again.

Danny Rubin, the screenwriter along with Harold Ramis, claims that the core of the script was the idea of immortality: "I was curious about whether one lifetime would be enough for somebody."

It turns out that he's right. Bill Murray as weatherman Phil doesn't need just one life -- he also needs all the help he can get. As he becomes accustomed to the state of affairs that is reliving one day in a small town, over and over, he goes through phases of despair and personal revelation.

Perhaps the most meaningful of these is the fact that he's in love with his producer, Rita, played by Andie MacDowell. Watching him both pine after and seduce Rita is simultaneously funny and tragic. Or, as some people would call it, tragic comedy.

Like a weatherman getting caught in a snowstorm.

There's something relaxing about watching Groundhog Day. It eventually hits a rhythm where you know almost as soon as Murray does that it's a new day in Punxsutawney. The editing in particular is superb. Like good sitcom editing, the cuts are almost unnoticeable, but still coherent enough to follow new threads and happenings within the timeline.

Because of the timeline strictures -- one day, in one place, where the same main events happen -- Murray's acting is what carries the movie. The weatherman's emotional growth is about the only thing separating him from a cartoon like Wile E. Coyote, re-emerging each time from the canyon unflattened. Instead through the course of the movie Phil softens, and the changes that happen in the film are brought about by him.

He learns, in other words, how to be a decent human being. He learns how to catch people when they fall, how to ask questions, how to play the piano.

Most of the time.

The truth is it's never clear how Phil Connors the weatherman from Pittsburgh got stuck in the timeloop in the first place, or how to break the spell, or how any of this is happening.

It doesn't really matter. What matters is not how Phil got there or who he is. We are all just the sum of our parts, taking gambles in our particular places in the universe, living out our lives. What matters is what Phil chooses to do with his life, and what, in turn, we choose to do with ours.

Vampires Vampires Vampires

What We Do in the Shadows is a terrible title for a good movie. Just try saying it five times fast: What we do in the shadows what we do in the shadows what we do in the shadows whatwedointheshadowswhatwedointheshadows.

Fortunately, the film manages to surpass this difficulty to become a very funny entry in the documentary/mockumentary category. It's also a time-warp episode back to when Twilight was hip.

It was a long time ago.

The film features Peter, Viago, Deacon, and Jermaine from Flight of the Concords as vampires who live in a house together in New Zealand, and have agreed to be followed around by documentarians. Refreshingly, their vampirism is the traditional, centuries-old, pale, burned by silver type. You know, the one where they can transform into bats.

Much of the humor revolves around their inability to pass as humans.

I don't know, they look fine here, very human

Confronted by demons they thought had long passed them by -- an ex-lover, an ex-lover who is literally old, and their memories -- they seem to be constantly meditating on everything and nothing at all, and occasionally getting into bat fights. It's half comic, half thoughtful, with a lot of blood.

As the foursome delve into the town's social scene and practice their many hobbies developed over centuries, it becomes clear that, actually, what they aren't trying to do is be human: what they're trying to do is be happy.

With the blood.

There's also a bit of a werewolf rivalry, but I won't give it all away. I'm just relieved that someone finally revived a genre that was, well, a bit dead.

What We Do In The Shadows: 3/4 stars. Mind the gore.

After Sunrise: An (Abridged) History of Richard Linklater

Given that this year Richard Linklater is up for an Oscar, it seemed like the perfect time to review his original hit, Before Sunrise*.

The premise of the film is that Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy) meet on a train: she's going to Paris, he to Vienna, and then back to America. It's a meet-cute, but because at the time they were both pre-stardom indie actors, it feels natural to believe that one is traveling, the other a student, and that they could meet in this way. It helps that Jesse and Celine play off one another perfectly--he's a little jerkish, while she's a little bit of a head-in-the-clouds.

After spontaneously taking a liking to one another, Jesse convinces Celine to depart the train with him at Vienna, and they decide to spend the day together. The film tracks these hours, and partly in consequence, partly by choice, is shot in a very interesting way. There are multiple long takes focusing on the pair's conversation in the train, the streetcar, and as they wander around the streets and bridges of the Austrian city. Fittingly, the film was shot on location.

*You could argue that Dazed and Confused was his original hit, which is perfectly legitimate. But Before Sunrise is the movie that originated his trademark style.

Stuck together in a strange city, the plot revolves around Jesse and Celine's conversations, which regard both the beautiful scenery and themselves. They share their lives, and in so doing become more intimate as a couple at the same time as they become familiar to the audience. Yet these dialogues often take you out of the movie--not because of the context, but rather the content. As the pair meditates on their futures, it causes you to contemplate your own future.

This effect is particularly acute given that the film was followed by Before Sunset and Before Midnight, films where Hawke and Delpy reprise their roles nine and eighteen years later, respectively. With this foreknowledge, their mentions of ten and twenty years into the future echo more strongly than they would have otherwise. Linklater no doubt recognized this. Indeed, in creating this triptych, Linklater created a precursor for what so far is his most acclaimed film: Boyhood.

While the setup of Boyhood is quite different to that of Before Sunrise--the former revolving around a young boy growing up, rather than tracking the relationship of a couple--it fits a similar theme: coming-of-age. (As well as, notably, sharing an actor: Ethan Hawke.) Both films are attempts to track life as it is lived, in real time, or if not 'real' time then real enough, a day condensed to one hundred and ten minutes, a childhood relayed in three hours.

Paradoxically, what feels most precious about both movies are the quickly-passing moments of spontaneity and intimacy. It's a look, a kiss, it's not knowing you are happy until you've thought about it afterward. By combining realism with a degree of fiction and synchronicity, Linklater has memorialized on film the feeling of nostalgia. It burns sometimes, but it has such a lovely view.

***

Before Sunrise has a 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. It was released in 1995.

Boyhood has a 94% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. It was released in 2014, and is currently nominated for Best Picture.

Romancing the Stone

I am literally a month late with this. Christmas is so far behind us that if you turned and looked over your shoulder it would just be a speck on the horizon. Nevertheless, I have to review The Family Stone. It's a family movie, but not a movie for families--no, this is a movie about a family.

Everett Stone is the eldest son of the Stone clan, and his mother's favorite: Sybil, played by Diane Keaton, has promised him her mother's wedding ring for his future wife. And he seems to have found that wife--or, at least the girl he takes home to his mother. Unfortunately, the moment that Sarah Jessica Parker meets the Stones is also the same time that everything goes to, well. You know.

Sarah as Meredith appears to be everything the Stone's aren't: polite, clean-cut, prudish. She's also deeply, deeply unhappy, and wields an armor of self-assurance as though to ward against all possible heartbreak. The Stones notice this.

What I love about this movie is how unabashedly inappropriate it is. The Stones make no bones (ha!) about the fact that they don't like her for Everett. (Sybil and sister Amy, played by Rachel McAdams, are particularly adamant on this fact.) Meanwhile, Everett is of little to no help, and seems just  as confused as his family to find Meredith in his life, despite the fact that he plans on marrying her.

Her relationship crumbling, her mental health in shambles, Sarah-as-Meredith then proceeds to fall in lust ... with Everett's younger brother, Ben. (Played by Luke Wilson. But honestly, how could anyone not fall in lust with Luke Wilson?) Just to pile it on Everett meets Meredith's sister, played by Claire Danes, and seems to fall in love instantly. The only person not enjoying a moment of personal romantic fulfillment is Amy, until her high school crush shows up. It's a hell of a show.

The Family Stone is not an award-winning movie, and it doesn't aspire to be. But despite the crazy plot twists and the insane romantic machinations there is something so true about it that you can't help but watch. Like, yes, of course Luke Wilson's character eats pot brownies with his dad! Of course!

Sarah Jessica Parker's performance is the other best aspect of the film. Meredith is a workaholic and too anal, and too unhappy, to be likable. As Ben says to her, "You have a freak flag. You just don't fly it." Her decision to fly that freak flag, to give up the ghost and just be herself, is what propels the movie from mediocre to having a slim margin of greatness. She's is a testament to the fact that you don't have to be lovable to be loved, and despite having on paper the most unlikeable character, Meredith is the one you end up rooting for.

Conversely, the disappointment in all this might just be Everett. Dermot Mulraney's normally striking reticence works against him here, and we're left with a main lead who is barely noticeable against the backdrop of such a strong supporting cast.

The Family Stone came out in 2005, has a 51% on Rotten Tomatoes, and you can very much find it online or on DVD.

***

Addendum: if you would prefer a non-Christmas themed family movie, check out City Island (2010). It has some of the more humorous notes and stars Andy Garcia. Win-win.