Photo Courtesy © Roadside Attractions

The Fall

Directed by: Tarsem Singh

Written by: Dan Gilroy, Nico Soultanakis and Tarsem Singh

Starring: Lee Pace, Catinca Untaru, Justine Waddell, Kim Uylenbroek, Aiden Lithgow and Leo Bill.

In the new film by director Tarsem, The Fall, a young girl with a broken arm befriends Roy, an injured stuntman, in a Los Angeles hospital. After performing a suicidal jump from a bridge (on a horse), Roy has lost the ability to walk. He begins to tell the girl an epic story, which he will only continue if she obtains for him a bottle of Morphine from the hospital dispensary. So he can kill himself. It's an incredibly sad story, but also quite original. Fortunately for the filmmakers, a story like this can find an audience. While The Fall has been in production since 2005, another fantasy with a dark reality, Pan’s Labyrinth, managed to be seen by quite a few people indeed. It remains to be seen whether or not viewers will flock to see this tale, but those who do will find an interesting film.

I had mixed feelings about Tarsem's last film, The Cell.  It looked amazing, but had no soul. (Although, admittedly I am not a J-Lo fan, either. Quite the opposite, in fact.) Not surprisingly, there are also many startling visuals in The Fall, including some recurring images from Tarsem’s other work. Fortunately in this case, there is an interesting story to be told as well as two characters that you will actually care about. Lee Pace as Roy (and the fantasy sequence’s bandit leader) is thoroughly compelling, proving once again that he can slip on any skin and play any role. As young Alexandria, Catinca Untaru is precocious and moving and most importantly, very real. The scenes between the two of them in the hospital are naturalistic and wonderfully played. Honestly, those bits are the highlight of the movie.

The fantasy sequences are, of course, enthralling to look at and stunningly produced. Leo Bill stands out as one of the bandits: Charles Darwin. These parts of the film start off very strong, but crumble into a big mess by the end. Is this because the filmmakers were focused more on being as visually audacious as possible, leaving everything else behind? Or is it actually because at this point in the film the storyteller, Roy, is falling apart? Perhaps. But as amazing as the spectacle of the fantasy world is, I kept longing for a return to the much more fascinating reality of Roy and Alexandria. The Fall is like The Princess Bride… if Peter Falk’s grandpa character had been suicidal.

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © Warner Bros. Pictures

Sex and the City: The Movie (2008)

Written and directed by: Michael Patrick King

Starring: Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis, Cynthia Nixon, Chris Noth, Jennifer Hudson.

I was told it couldn't be done. Alas, I managed to convince a male friend to see Sex and the City: The Movie with me and was so proud! While I wasn't a religious follower of the show, I thought the film was precious. Men and women alike may find it very slow moving; he didn't really find it painful, but there was some sighing, drowsy eyes and a post-film confession: "If it was just me, I definitely would have walked out." Charlotte was his fave and this time around, Carrie mine.

Nevertheless, I thought it was perfect for capturing every morsel of the four's fabulousness and full-circle moments: Charlotte's chocolate pudding stash from Poughkeepsie and one-line offense; Carrie's peacock feather; Miranda's growing peace and red-hot hair; and Samantha's saucy sushi adventure and comforting joie de vivre. It's as if the attendees were silently asking for it to be drawn out for their pleasure and leisurely wine consumption. Wine bottle clank and roll on theatre floor, yes!

Smith (Jason Lewis) – hubba hubba; Steve (David Eigenberg) – could a guy be sweeter? Louise from St. Louis (Jennifer Hudson) adds soul and earth to the story and her presence seems to be just the force to have love's notes take center stage.

I know I'm not alone in confessing being smitten with SJP, but here I find her an especially mature, thoughtful, and beautiful treasure. Does she need another friend, a part-time color or flower consultant? She's got me thinking about my very first pair of really high heels and definitely rockin' the silver sequined beanie.

I'm dreaming of reading aloud love letters like this one, too, featured in the film. As someone walks to meet me halfway, on a beautiful bridge...

“Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together -

Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell.

Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.

ever thine

ever mine

ever ours."

--Beethoven to his Immortal Beloved

I'm such a girl. To love, life and style, forever!

Jehan@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © IFC Films

Savage Grace (2008)

Directed by: Tom Kalin

Written by: Howard A. Rodman   

Starring: Julianne Moore, Eddie Redmayne, Hugh Dancy, Stephen Dillane, Elena Anaya and Simón Andreu.

In Savage Grace, the new film by Tom Kalin (the director of indie classic Swoon), we spend 25 years with the jet-setting American socialites the Baekelands. Specifically, mother Barbara (Julianne Moore) and son Antony (Eddie Redmayne). Barbara is an intense, often rude woman suffering from mercurial mood swings who has a less than perfect relationship with her husband Brooks (the sublime Stephen Dillane). Regardless, Antony adores her.

There are unquestionable comparisons to another recent film-based-on-book, "Running with Scissors." Crazy mom? Check. Adoring homosexual son? Check. Failed suicide attempt? Check. But there is no kooky Bible-dipping family for Antony to be taken in by in "Savage Grace." In fact, as we know, his future lies only in incest and murder. It's a fascinating and deeply upsetting character study that features fine performances from Redmayne and Hugh Dancy (as a man who becomes lover to both Antony and Barbara). Julianne Moore chews up the scenery and spits it out from the first continental dinner at the Stork Club until her final shocking scene. Whether or not you like the movie at all, you will walk away with the reassurance that she is still the world champion when it comes to fearless actors.

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

DVD'S:

Photo Courtesy © New Line Home Video

Thirteen Days (2000)

Directed by: Roger Donaldson

Written by: David Self

Starring: Kevin Costner, Bruce Greenwood, Steven Culp, Dylan Baker, Bill Smitrovich, Michael Fairman, Elya Baskin, Lucinda Jenney.

It’s scary to know just how close we came to ending humanity. Thirteen Days is the true story behind the Cuban missile crisis. Featuring all of the key players responsible for what could have been mankind’s greatest disaster, the story is told from the point of view of Kenny O'Donnell, played by Kevin Costner. He was a White House Aid with a close relationship to both President John F. Kennedy and his brother Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy.

The date was October 15, 1962 and photographs from an American U-2 Spy plane on a reconnaissance mission have just revealed that missile bases are being built in Cuba. This will be the beginning of the thirteen days that forced the U.S. and U.S.S.R. into a virtual standoff. A sick game of chicken that proved one thing: the quest for ultimate power will lead us all to destruction. Of course, the missile crisis wouldn’t have happened without the help of the U.S. and their policy towards Cuba at the time. The Russian missiles brought into Cuba were Fidel Castro’s retaliation over secret plans by the U.S. to invade Cuba and overthrow him. The Bay of Pigs invasion was one of several attempts made by the U.S., culminating with the C.I.A. led mission Operation Mongoose that was also unsuccessful, in bringing down Castro. So you could say that the guy was only trying to protect his interests. But as we all know the crisis wasn’t really about Cuba, Turkey or Berlin; it was all about who had the balls to pull the trigger.

Over the course of the following days the U.S. planned a full scale invasion of Cuba, instituted a blockade of all Russian ships headed for Cuba, resorted to secret negotiations with unconfirmed sources and ended the crisis with a secret deal between Kennedy and Khrushchev. This film does a great job in building and sustaining this tension. You will spend two and a half hours virtually glued to your seat wondering how in the world this could have happened.

My only complaint with the film has to do with the choices the director makes in regards to the cinematography. For some reason Donaldson chose to give certain scenes a documentary feel by switching to black and white but then all of a sudden he goes back to color. Personally I think this adds nothing to the film but you be the judge. Overall, the cast gives a great performance, with notable mentions for Kevin Costner, Steven Culp and Bruce Greenwood. It’s scary to see the similarities that the decision makers back in 1962 share with key figures in today’s administration. Unfortunately most of the latter would not hesitate to bring the U.S. into a nuclear war if they could justify the action. But there are no winners in nuclear war, only survivors.

Juanmarcos@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © ABC Studios

“Lost: Season 4” (Or: “The how long does it take to get of a freaking island season.”)

So it’s finally over: that feeling of numbness, boredom and confusion has ceased to overwhelm your body. Ladies and gentlemen, I was warned but I did not listen. But how can a great show like “Lost” make us feel like the joke is on us? Well, season four has just wrapped up and that’s exactly how I feel.

Before you assume that it’s all over between me and “Lost” I just want to say that I’m open to the idea of future viewing if somebody at ABC studios decides that quality should replace quantity. Yes, we all know that the big boys at ABC want to keep milking that tropical cow. But have they considered that if things keep going the way they are there won’t be any audience left to milk? If you, dear reader, are surprised by my sudden change of heart, that makes two of us. I still remember a couple of issues back when I could not stop raving about the show. In that February 08 P&F article I declared my love and attention to “Lost” and all things J.J.Abrams. (Of course I had just come off a marathon of back to back seasons that plunged me into a foolish declaration of love for “Lost.”) After nearly four months of pointless episodes I share an uneasy feeling with much of the “Lost” community.

After thirteen episodes of cheap melodrama we can all agree that we were cheated. Fillers—that’s all they are, much like the stuff that soap operas are made of. It’s sad to see a show with so much potential get lost along the way. If you ask my opinion “Lost” should do what “Battlestar Galactica” is doing and end on a high note. Four seasons’ is more than enough time to tell the story of flight 815. Regardless of what I think or say there will be two more seventeen-episode seasons. So let’s just hope that these next two seasons don’t become the reason why everyone else and I stopped watching “Lost.”

Juanmarcos@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Photo Courtesy © 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment

Hitman

Timothy Olyphant has to stop doing these types of roles; I’m starting to think he has really bad hemorrhoids. This is another example of video game plots gone bad—not to say that video games really have plots.

Photo Courtesy © MGM

Rocky Balboa

A nostalgic Stallone, how touching. At least this time around he manages to lose the big fight.

Photo Courtesy © Universal Pictures

American Gangster

Overall an entertaining film. Of course, it doesn't pay to be black and a gangster in this one.

Juanmarcos@picturesandframesmagazine.com

MUSIC:

Madonna - Hard Candy

I’m actually one of those thirtysomething people who have been a witness to the Madonna-phenomenon from the beginning. I remember the first time I heard “Borderline.” I owned every single on 45 and could tell you a hysterically sad story about the night when I was 11 years old and bought her second album, Like a Virgin (on vinyl). As someone who was a true-blue fan, there was a time when a new release by Madonna was the most exciting thing to happen. The last time I remember feeling this was back in 1998, when her album Ray of Light came out. I hotly anticipated it after becoming heavily addicted to the amazing first single, “Frozen.” I may not have been as enthusiastic since then. I’ve picked up her subsequent albums along the way—sometimes on other people’s dimes (thanks, Amazon Wishlist!)—liked several songs, but have never really been amazed. This time, I must say that I’m not disappointed.

Keeping in the vein of her last disc, Confessions on a Dance Floor, the new album is full of pop confections and is light on the cold seriousness of American Life, not to mention the faux British accent she had taken to using. I was surprised to find myself pre-ordering the album despite the fact that I thought the first single, “Five Minutes,” was just all right. (I can’t get the “tic tock tic tock tic tock” out of my head and I’m not saying that’s a good thing.) But the song is much better when it’s separated from the embarrassing video. For me the standout track of Hard Candy has to be “Heartbeat.” A track that sounds like it would be right at home on Kylie Minogue’s latest album, X, “Heartbeat” definitely brings us back to a time when Madonna’s music made you want to shake your ass and actually smile! There is an acknowledgement of the song’s old school feel in lyrics like “It may feel old to you/but to me it feels new.”

The other must-hear track on the disc is “Beat Goes On,” her collaboration with Kanye West. As much as I’m not a fan of his personally, I have to admit that the man knows how to produce amazing tracks. “She’s Not Me” takes our ears even further back into a 70s disco revival by including percussive whistles and handclaps. Other highlights include the heartfelt, “Miles Away” and “Devil Wouldn’t Recognize You.” All in all, I have to say that this is the Madonna I knew and loved way back when, and Hard Candy is her best album since Ray of Light graced my CD player ten years ago. I hope she keeps it up.

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Death Cab for Cutie - Narrow Stairs

Narrow Stairs is the album Death Cab for Cutie wanted and in many ways needed to make. Unlike the commercially tighter, stodgier and secure Plans (2005), their latest is incredibly explorative in its experimentally epic, mature, simple, melancholic refectory ease. The four (singer-songwriter Ben Gibbard, guitarist and producer Chris Walla, bassist Nick Harmer and drummer Jason McGerr) are truly free birds and they fly high and gracefully with authentic wings. It grins with no burden of fan and critical expectations, the backpack thrown off on a dusty side road in Mexico with crazy-filled passports of tours past.

As a collection, its ethereality stands harder to break into and cozy up within (Transatlanticism (2003) lovers be patient), but give it just a handful of days on repeat and it will grow on you. Absolutely perfect in its ambiguous beauty for the open roads, beaming skies, and fresh breezes of summer, it's a turquoise mesh beach bag ensured with plenty of breathing room. Lead guitarist and genius producer Chris Walla shared excitement in a recent interview, "It's really got some teeth. The landscape of the thing is way, way more lunar than the urban meadow sort of thing that has been happening for the last couple of records." (He also really dug the cover art.)

As their first single, "I Will Possess Your Heart," is the eight-minute plus festival masterpiece that's more My Morning Jacket than "Title & Registration," efficiently tailored for the radio and music video worlds to half-size. The bass line of Nick Harmer is rich and thunderous, hauntingly driving Ben Gibbard's intention, "How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me/It's like a book elegantly bound, but in a language that you can't read…just yet."

"Your New Twin Size Bed" is a shimmery, particularly sunshine-streamed account of a friend's defeated trade-in of a queen size in the alley behind his apartment. "You used to think that someone would come along/And lay beside you in a space that they belong/But the other side of the mattress and box springs stayed like new/What's the point of holding onto what never gets used?/ Other than a sick desire for self-abuse.”

"Long Division" will take you back to fifth grade mathematics without calculators. "And they carried on like long division/And it was clear with every page/That they were further away from a solution that would play/Without a remain remain remain remainder..." Here's hoping cheaters eventually commit to their times tables, an eraser and love.

The album's standout track, "Cath…," captures the pained web of a woman trapped in a dead-end marriage with its sad, evocative wedding day truths. "As the flash bulbs burst she holds a smile/like someone would hold a crying child." It rocks throughout with signature, fluid Death Cab tragedy and is a call to all in despair, especially pressured, empty arrangements, to break off any chains that deem such soul death.

"But you said your vows and you closed the door/On so many men who would you have loved you more/…The whispers that it won't last roll up and down the pews/And if our hearts were dying that fast, they would have done the same as you/I'd have done the same as you. ---"Cath..." from Narrow Stairs

Jehan@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Sarah McLachlan - Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff: Volume 2

Fans of Sarah McLachlan probably remember the last time she released an album of rarities, mostly because it was an incredible collection of covers, remixes and soundtrack contributions that were as striking and original as the album’s artwork. With this second collection, Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff 2, it’s hard to feel the same enthusiasm. It may just feel that way due to the fact that since the last time, McLachlan has become a major star, thanks to Lilith Fair and her most popular disc, Surfacing. As a result, her B-sides have been less hard to come by (although when I think of it, this might also be thanks to iTunes for providing the great service to all musical completists such as myself by allowing you to buy your favorite artists contributions to soundtracks and compilations without having to buy the whole disc). So are these rarities as interesting as the original batch or am I simply less impressed because there’s not that much that’s new this time around?

First of all, do we really need yet another live version of “Angel” around? Granted, this is one of the more beautiful performances of the song, in which McLachlan is accompanied by Emmylou Harris (it originally appeared on the original Lilith Fair compilation). In fact, this collection could really be more appropriately called Collaborations, considering that the bulk of it is made up of songs that were recorded with others. Cyndi Lauper, DMC, The Perishers, Ladysmith Black Mambazo and fellow Canadian Bryan Adams are just a few of her cohorts. And they almost all overshadow her. Her duet with Lauper was a new version of “Time After Time” from Lauper’s Body Acoustic album. The DMC track features McLachlan singing the chorus of “Cat’s in the Cradle” sporadically. She joins The Perishers in concert for their track, “Pills” and Ladysmith Black Mambazo for “Homeless.” In all three songs, McLachlan is the musical equivalent of a speaking extra. The duet with Adams, from the forgotten Disney film, Spirit, makes little impression. And don’t even get me started on DJ Tiësto’s remix of her collaboration with snorefest Delerium.

Far better are her solo songs, three tracks from soundtracks (including her I Am Sam cover of The Beatles song “Blackbird” and “Ordinary Miracle” from Charlotte’s Web), two recorded for her fan club releases and inexplicably, her cover of Joni Mitchell’s “River,” which was actually the single from her holiday album, 2006’s Wintersong. The one truly gorgeous song on the album is her contribution to the Pixar film Toy Story 2, the lovely “When She Loved Me.” This was the one song that made the album worthwhile for me, considering that the songs I liked I already had in some form or another, and the songs I didn’t have… didn’t impress me much.  Hopefully a better job will be done with the forthcoming 15^th Anniversary(!?!) expanded edition of McLachlan’s best album to date, Fumbling Towards Ecstasy. 

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

Mariah Carey Emancipates Herself Again on E=MC²

The follow-up to a very successful (comeback) album can be a feat for any artist. In this instance, take Mariah Carey and her 2005 monster hit album The Emancipation of Mimi. After a bleak personal and professional period, Mimi helped return Carey to the top of the charts. This best selling, critically acclaimed, and multiple award-winning album re-established Carey as a force to be reckoned with in the music industry. After a brief hiatus, Carey rises to the occasion again with the release of her tenth studio album E=MC².

E=MC², or “the Emancipation of Mariah Carey” to the second power, features 14-tracks co-written and co-produced by Carey and Jermaine Dupri, Tricky Stewart, The Dream, Bryan-Michael Cox, Star Gate, Swizz Beatz, Scott Storch, DJ Tomp, Nate “Danja” Handz, and James Poyser. The new album features a good mix of club bangers, mid-tempo grooves and ballads. She continues to be, along with Mary J. Blige, one of the few artists who’s able to effortlessly blend Hip-Hop, Pop, and R&B/Soul (something she’s been doing since the release of her 1993 number one single “Dreamlover” from Music Box).

E=MC² has something on it for everyone. She has the power ballads (“I Stay In Love), pop tunes (“Touch My Body” and “Last Kiss”); sassy, infectious club bangers (“Migrate,” “I’m That Chick,” and “I’ll Be Lovin’ U Long Time”); hip-hop inflected, mid-tempo grooves (“O.O.C” and “Side Effects”); stellar R&B tunes (“For The Record,” “Bye Bye,” and “Thanks 4 Nothin’”); and gospel (“I Wish You Well”). She experiments with reggae on the Damian Marley assisted “Cruise Control,” where she takes a stab at singing in patois (check the second verse). This may take some aback, but at least she’s taking risks. Lyrically, E=MC² showcases some of Carey’s most introspective work. “Side Effects” tells the story of how she struggled to find herself in a suffocating, controlling relationship (Tommy Mottolla anyone?). “Bye Bye” is a bittersweet tune about losing those close to you. And “I Wish You Well” is an inspirational of perseverance, forgiveness, and faith.

There’s no denying Carey’s vocal talent. The woman can sang! But she’s beyond the point of wailing and hitting high notes from beginning to end. On E=MC², Carey demonstrates a great deal of vocal maturity and restraint. She seems to be focusing less on the technical aspects and vocal acrobatics and more on textures, melodies, and conveying emotions. Listeners will notice that she’s singing in her lower register and mid-range much more now, which gives her delivery a sexy, somber, or playful tone. Carey is also using her higher register more to accentuate the lines whereas on earlier releases her approach was more like that of an exhibitionist. “For The Record,” “I Stay in Love,” “Side Effects” and “I Wish You Well” showcase some of Carey’s most passionate and varied vocals.

E=MC² brings everything that fans love about Mariah Carey all together. Is E=MC² better than The Emancipation of Mimi? There’s really no comparison. If anything, E=MC² continues where Mimi left off. It’s a collection of solid songs from beginning to end. This album is another declaration of Carey’s talent and staying power. She’s managed to overcome obstacles personally and professionally. She has solidified her status as one of the best selling and most influential artists ever. (And with “Touch My Body” becoming her 18^th number one single, she’s well on her way to eclipsing the Beatles in terms of singles reaching the top spot on Billboard charts.) The recent success of this album and its subsequent singles is not only validation but inspiration that even after trying times, as long as you remain true to yourself, believe, and have faith, you’ll make it through. And Carey’s made it – all the way to the top.

Markell@picturesandframesmagazine.com

BOOKS:

The Film Club by David Gilmour

“When I go to a movie now, I seem to be aware of so many more things: the man a few rows over talking to his wife; someone finishing his popcorn and throwing the bag into the aisle; I’m aware of editing and bad-dialogue and second-rate actors. Sometimes I watch a scene with a lot of extras and I wonder, Are they real actors, are they enjoying being extras or are they unhappy not to be in the spotlight? There’s a young girl, for example, in the communications center at the beginning of Dr. No. She has one or two lines but you never see her on the screen again. I wondered out loud to Jesse what happened to all those people in the crowd shots, those party shots: How did their lives turn out? Did they give up acting and go into other professions?

All these things interfere with the experience of a movie; in the old days you could have fired off a pistol beside my head and it wouldn’t have interrupted my concentration, my participation in the movie that was unfolding on the screen in front of me. I return to old movies not just to watch them again but in the hope that I’ll feel the same way that I did when I first saw them. (Not just about movies, but about everything.) – David Gilmour, The Film Club

Steven Spielberg once said: “the only thing better than seeing movies is reading about them.” This is one of my favorite movie-related quotes (you can find it plastered on our home page) and not just because it was said by one of my favorite directors—I love it simply because it is true. Reading about movies is almost as thrilling as seeing movies themselves, especially when the writer shares your passion intimately, as film critic/novelist David Gilmour clearly does in his memoir, The Film Club.

The Film Club is about many things: it is about a father coming to terms with his own self-worth and value; it is about a struggling writer dealing with unemployment; it is about a teenage son trying to find his own identity within the confines of adolescence; and it is about the magical unexplainable thing that happens when two people sit in front of a screen and watch a great movie together.

Jesse was a 15-year-old who hated high school and was flunking out of all of his classes. He wasn’t a bad kid—quite the opposite in fact—but his father, David Gilmour, saw in him a restlessness and boredom that he didn’t quite know how to counter. So rather than lose him entirely, he offered him the option to drop out of school—as long as he attended another school of sorts, a film school, that would be held three times a week in their own living room. The first film that they watch? The apt Truffaut classic The 400 Blows. From there Gilmour the professor ran through such varied coursework as Beetlejuice to Notorious to To Have and Have Not to Showgirls, all with a clear and concise lesson plan in mind. The result is an education that is truly unique, inspired and worthwhile. As a reader, you find yourself discovering (and revisiting) films right alongside the Gilmour boys, as if you too were a part of their late afternoon viewing sessions.

The Film Club is a joy to read as a movie lover as David Gilmour imbues his film descriptions with hypnotic nostalgia and passion (one of my personal favorite scenes in the book is his explanation of the brilliance of Robert Redford’s underrated The Quiz Show). But the book is also a joy to read on a completely different level, one that is harder to put into words. I remember very clearly being Jesse’s age and feeling the way that he did in high school—lost, bored and skeptical. My outlet was found at the movies—both at the theater and at home—and I still remember the days when I would stay home from school to watch movies with my mom. The films ranged from classics such as All About Eve to A Place in the Sun to Overboard, but their significance didn’t lie solely in the films themselves, but in that time that we spent together and that magical thing that took place when the two of us stared into that flickering screen. It still happens whenever we get together to watch movies, and I still marvel at that unspoken exchange that is somehow communicated during those brief moments of time.

David Gilmour does the impossible in The Film Club by capturing these very moments with his own son. His descriptions of Jesse will at times break your heart; there is a sensitivity and femininity to the way that Gilmour writes that I rarely find in male authors. He understands how precious and brief this time spent with Jesse is, and he mourns for it even as he experiences it. Jesse eventually outgrows their film club, graduates from high school and goes to college (he is now studying to be a filmmaker). David eventually finds work again and returns to writing. But those late nights are never forgotten. These films and their shared experience forever alter both men. And in a strange and magical way, they do the same for us.   

Lily@picturesandframesmagazine.com

FICTION:

Photo Courtesy © Rick Sayre

I started writing "birdwatching" ten years ago. Set in Atlanta, circa 1999, it is a blatantly romantic fairy tale. I drew inspiration from Armistead Maupin's great series, TALES OF THE CITY, screwball comedies of the 30s & 40s and tons of music. Over the years there are certain songs that I've taped, burnt on cds and made into playlists that have become a sort of "birdwatching soundtrack." I've added many of these songs into an iMix available through iTunes. I hope you'll listen to it and enjoy!

 

“Birdwatching” – Part III

By Rick Sayre

9. Dinner for Seven.

Casey and I decided that a dinner party was called for. We invited my Mom and Wes, who brought along his new boyfriend, Brad. Wes and Brad arrived early, so while Brad bonded with Roy and Elliot over the Playstation, Wes joined us in the kitchen where we were still making last minute perfections to dinner. Closing the door and grabbing the drink from my hand, Wes remarked that this was "The first dinner party I've ever been to where the men are sitting on beanbags playing Atari while the 'women' work in the kitchen."

"Atari?" I said, "Damn, I wanted to use the TV set to watch this new 'MTV' thing. I hear they play all the coolest Culture Club videos."
"Yeah, pick on the elderly."

"Oh, god Wes, you're not elderly. You're old…er," I say, stealing back my drink.

                   "So," Casey pipes in, "Brad is cute."

Wes moves in closer and tells us in a conspirator’s whisper, "Yeah, that's pretty much all he is." "Wes!" Casey, who can hardly believe her ears, looks over her shoulder like Brad could walk in any minute or something. "I can't believe you just said that. Haven't you been dating him for a month?"

"Yes, sweetie, but it's all so... boring. Talking with him is like trying to carry on a conversation with wallpaper. Did I tell you that he's a Log Cabin boy?"
 "And you're strictly an Aunt Jemima boy and your people are trying to keep you apart!" Casey joked. Wes and I exchanged quizzical looks.

“Syrup humor? No? Sorry, what's a Log Cabin boy? Is this some new term I don't know about like 'Daisy Chains' and 'Twinks'?"

"Log Cabin," I say. "Gay Republicans. Oddly enough the cutest guys at Gay Pride last year were all at the Log Cabin booth."

"Well if he's a member, he's political at least. I’m sure you can have some really interesting conversations-"

Wes cut Casey off mid-sentence. "No, no, no. I've tried, believe me."

"Well, are you saying that he's dumb?"

"No. We just have nothing to talk about."
          "So is it just sex?" Casey asks with a grin.

"It's not just sex. Although can I buy a vowel because Oh. My. God. It's more like- companionship? It's like, he's so adorable, you know? He's like a dog. He's cute and you want to play with him all the time and cuddle with him. It's very affectionate." A silence filled the room until I could no longer bear it.

"Okay, you realize that you just compared your relationship with your boyfriend to having a pet, right?"

Before he could come up with a reply, the doorbell rang and we all filed out to greet my mom. Casey opened the door and my face immediately fell. It was Matthew.

"I can't say 'ugh' in a way that will properly express my disgust," Casey said she steered Roy away from the door. Roy kept looking back up with a sort of "Give me a reason to kick your ass" look.

I heard Wes as he walked away saying "I didn't think it was possible for that one to look worse than he did when I met him, but child-"

"Matthew? What the h-" I stuttered, standing at the front door. "I mean. No, yeah- what the hell are you doing here?"

                   "Nice greeting, Ben. I just wanted to drop by. I miss you."

                   "Are you on something?"

"What? No, I'm not on something. I just wanted to see you."

He kept moving towards me like he was going hug me or something and I kept moving back, like he was a barking dog. "Are you gonna let me in?"

"No. Matthew. This is a really bad time. I mean, my mom's about to get here."

"Oh. Are you having some kind of party?" He gestured to all the cars in the driveway.

                   "We're throwing her a dinner party. Dinner for seven."

"Okay, well, I won't bug you then. But can I call you sometime? I really need to talk to you."

"I don't think that's a good idea, really. I don't have anything else to talk to you about."

"But- Look, I'm just going through something and I really need someone who gets me. You get me."

I was getting frustrated and nervous. "Look, just call me then, okay? I really have to finish getting things ready." Just then, Elliot came over and stood next to me.

"Is everything okay, babe?"

Introducing Elliot to Matthew was like witnessing this unnatural collision of good and evil. I had told Elliot about the whole Matthew thing in a brief synopsis, without ever mentioning his name. "Elliot, this is Matthew. Matthew, Elliot."

"His boyfriend," Elliot was quick to add.

"What? I thought- Whatever. Okay. So. I'll call."

He suddenly pulled me towards him and kissed me on the cheek and walked away. I shut the door behind me and sighed.

"Hey, should I be jealous or something?" Elliot grabbed my hand and kissed it.

"Oh, God no. You have nothing to worry about. Trust me. If this was Sixteen Candles he would be Anthony Michael Hall and you'd totally be Jake Ryan. Actually, he's more like James Spader in Pretty in Pink."

                   "So I guess this makes you Molly Ringwald either way?"
                   I pouted and said, "Of course I'm Molly Ringwald."

We shared a kiss just as the doorbell rang again. This time it really was Mom.

"Jesus, I thought this was a nice neighborhood. Is that a crackhead? What was he doing here?"

                   "He was just- a Jehovah's Witness. Mom, this is Elliot..."

P.S. Dinner went well, even though Wes decided to note how interesting it was that Roy was the only person at the table who "Doesn't like the cock."

10. Snowy Owls and The Amazon.

On a beautiful night, Elliot promised me a big surprise. We had dinner at a lovely out of the way restaurant. It was truly the most romantic evening I could have imagined. Dining by candlelight used to seem sort of overrated to me, but it was magic. Once we were finished, he drove a bit, taking me to the zoo. It was after hours, but there were still employees around. They all waved cheerily to Elliot, who held my hand and walked me to the Aviary. It was like we'd found some dreamy, starry oasis in the middle of Atlanta. We walked the path and talked for a while. Then his eyes lit up and he said, "Okay, now it's time for the real surprise."

"I thought this was the surprise."

"Nope. Come on."

He led me into an area marked Employees Only. Dean was inside, reading a book. When we arrived he came over and said hello, then disappeared for a moment.

                   "I wanted to show you something really special, Ben."

Just then Dean walked back into the room with a Snowy Owl perched on his arm. I just looked at Elliot and with welled-up eyes.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Two days later, we spent the evening with my mother and Wes at a play that was not "Making Porn." There were moments when Elliot seemed distracted, and I didn't know why. During the intermission Wes went to talk to an actor he knew and mom went to the ladies room. Alone in our box, I asked Elliot if something was wrong.

"Not exactly, no."

                   "Translate," I said with a smile.

                   "I've been made an interesting offer."

 "That sounds- I don't know promising? Ominous? What was the offer?"

                   "I have the opportunity to go to Brazil, take a trip down                           the Amazon and study birds."

"That sounds amazing, Elliot. Imagine the birds you could see there."

                   "Yeah, I know. The thing is that it would be for a while."

I felt the intake of my breath as I fought the idea that this was the crash I'd waited for. "What's a while?"

"Well, first they wanted me to go down for a year."

I think I actually gasped.

"But, I told them that would be impossible. Now they're offering me three months."

                   "Three months. That's not such a long time."

 "It feels like it is. Especially now that I have a reason to stay here."

I blushed and wanted to say more, but just then mom came back from the restroom.

"You should see the way some of these women are dressed tonight. God, it's the theatre, not a Journey concert!"

The lights went down again, but before the next act began, I leaned over to Elliot and whispered to him.

"I'll still be here in three months, Elliot. I don't think you should turn this down because of me."

He just looked at me and smiled, squeezing my hand. The act began, but he pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed it.

"I love you, Ben."

11. Matthew (again).

Matthew was at the door again. It was such a mistake, taking the deep breath and letting him inside. I can't explain it, but there was something so sad in his voice, the way he looked. It was something I'd never heard. Something that I thought should be remorse. Why should it have mattered to me whether he was sorry about the way he'd treated me or not? I had Elliot. I could've written him off completely. But there was something in me that felt like Matthew was trying to ask me for help and regardless of how things were, I couldn't abandon him the way he'd abandoned me.

I hadn’t thought much about Matthew since Elliot came along, and even then it was only a point of comparison. And Matthew couldn’t compare. Matthew acted like I was an object he could use when he felt like it. Elliot made me feel like he’d been waiting to be with me again since our last good-byes were said. They couldn’t have been any more different. Therefore, when he showed up at the house that afternoon I was sort of seeing him from a much more objective point of view than I ever had before. Thinking, what is so wrong with this guy that he has to treat people the way he does? Should I have written him off, left him waiting outside in the cold? In retrospect the answer was: OF COURSE.

He came in and sat down on the couch. I stood and answered as he asked me how things were, what was going on, and the usual small chat. I came right out and asked him what he wanted. It wasn't to make an apology. He asked me to give him another chance. He said he missed being with me. That maybe he could see a future for us together now. I went ballistic, asking him how much crack he'd been smoking to think he could ask me such a thing. He pulled me down next to him on the couch, holding my arms tightly and speaking intently about how much he needed a friend right now, someone like me who "got him.”

I protested over and over again, telling him that I'd never understand him, never get him. He pushed me down against the couch and started to kiss me, holding my arms down. The force of his kisses scared me, the desperation behind them made me sad, but after my initial moment of confusion, I began fighting back. Roy, God bless him, came out of Casey’s room at just that moment and peeled Matthew away from me. Through eyes burning with angry tears, I saw them tussle and watched Roy landing a punch that caused Matthew to shrink away, creeping out the door saying "Sorry... sorry, man." Roy locked the door and rushed over to the couch, where I was sitting, shaking still. Wanting to scream, but I didn't know what to say. I curled up into a little ball and stayed there, with Roy rubbing my back, calming me down. When Casey came in, Roy told her what had happened. It’s funny that all this time I thought that I was the one who was pathetic and sad.

What I didn't know was this. Right when Matthew pulled me over to the couch, holding my arms and talking to me, acting so sincere, Elliot had shown up. He was on the porch outside the window and saw what looked like a really intense conversation, followed by Matthew passionately kissing me. He turned and left before Roy ended it. Elliot didn't call me that day. Or the next. When I called, I got his machine. A week later, I thought he had disappeared for good and I didn't know why.

12. Ben.

I was sitting across from my Mom and Casey at the dining table. They were trying to explain to me why I needed to do things like eat or comb my hair.

"Have you talked to your therapist about this yet?" Mom asked.

                   "He hasn't left the house in a week and a half." Casey said.

                   "I went out two days ago," I say.

                   "You walked to Burger King, that doesn't count."

                   "Burger King?"

My mom seemed more upset about this than anything else.

"I thought you stopped eating fast food, do you know how bad that is for you?"
"I can't believe I let myself get in this situation again."

They both stopped talking then.

"I can't believe it."

Just then it seemed that some kind of switch flipped off in Casey's mind.

"Shut up. Just shut up and do something about it! Find him. Get him back or tell him to fuck off, but confront the damn problem, don't just sit here in your own shit, crying and wishing you hadn't opened up to someone!"

She stopped suddenly, like she'd caught herself saying something out loud that she thought she was only thinking. "I agree," My mom said. She stood up and pounded her fist on the table. I looked up in confusion. "I completely agree with Casey, although I think she might've said it a bit differently. Confronting your problem, that's the way to go."

The doorbell rang and Casey stood to go meet Roy. She kissed me on the forehead. "I didn't mean to yell. I just love you and I want you to be happy. I don't want you to shut down again. If you never open yourself up, you'll never be happy." She sighed. "We're going to the game tonight. I'll bring you back some ice cream."

After they'd all left, I went back to my room. I turned on the TV and started flipping through channels. I stopped when I saw Jonathan Pryce. He was suited up in a strange metallic outfit, with a set of wings. I'd seen the movie a few times before, so I was going to flip past. Then a familiar tune played. Brazil. Brazil. Something changed in me, woke me up. I don't know what it was. Maybe the advice Casey and mom had given me finally seeped in. I dropped the remote and jumped up, running out the door to the bus stop three blocks down.

I got to the zoo about an hour and a half later. It was a weekday, so there weren't that many people around. I ran all the way to the Aviary. It didn't take me long to find Dean once I got there. He seemed strangely hesitant when I asked him for Elliot. In fact, it wasn't until I started to cry and said, "I really, really need to find him" that he softened a bit and told me the news I was so afraid that I'd hear. Elliot had gone to Brazil. For a year. In fact, he was flying out this very evening. I looked around at the Aviary, the scene of one of my best moments ever. It was pretty sad to realize that it would now be the scene of one of my worst memories as well. "OK, thanks," I whispered when Dean asked if I was all right.

I left the Aviary, left the zoo, got back on a bus and rode home as it began to pour down rain. When I stepped off the bus, it drove away, its tires in the puddle creating a huge Shamu-sized splash, covering me with dirty water. Not that it mattered. I still had to walk the rest of the way home in the rain. It felt appropriate.

As soon as I walked into the house, I started taking off my wet clothes. The telephone began ringing. I was in no mood and told it to fuck off. The machine picked up the call, and I was moving towards the kitchen with my pants around my ankles, struggling to get the soaked denim off, I heard "Ben, this is Charlotte, Elliot’s aunt. Look, I thought I'd let you know... Elliot is leaving today for Brazil. Now, I don't know what happened between you guys but I really think you should come see him off." I almost slipped on the floor trying to get to the phone on time.

 

"Charlotte?"

"Ben! Look, maybe I shouldn't have called you. I just thought-"

                   "When is he leaving?"
                   "His flight is at 6:20. Air Brazil-"

I hung up and pulled my pants back on. I put the wet shirt back on and grabbed my shoes, running back outside as fast as I could.

I showed up at my mom's condo twenty minutes later. Breathless I said to her, "I need to use the car."

"Come inside, you look like you were submerged in the Atlantic."

"I can't, there's no time. I need the car. I have to get to the airport. He's leaving."

                   "What? Who?"

"Elliot. He's going to Brazil like now and I have to get there."

                   "I don't think I want you driving right now, I'll take you."

"Great, let's go."
"But honey, don't you think you should at least change into some dry clothes?"

                   "Mom, now, now, now!"

We hit the traffic jam as soon as the airport was in our view. No one was moving, cars were stopped over every lane, each way. The rain poured harder than ever and I was sitting on top of mom's raincoat, so I wouldn't get the interior as wet as I was. We moved at last and ended up about a foot ahead.

"Mom, I'm going to walk."

"You are going to catch pneumonia and die, Ben! Are you kidding me?"

"Mom, thanks for the ride," I said, opening the door and getting out in the middle of the stalled cars. "Ben!" She let out a groan of frustration. "I'll meet you there!"

I ran out among the cars, with one goal in mind. The Air Brazil desk inside that airport. Two cars were so close to each other that I had to climb over the hood to get across them. I glanced in the window to see Matthew, confused look upon his face as he shouted "What the fuck?!" Past another car I thought that I saw James and his wife, smiling even through the traffic jam and the rain. I ran past a bus and heard someone pounding on the window. Suddenly, Casey and Roy were jumping out the bus door, calling out my name. They started to chase after me. A ways behind them was my mother, running as much as she could with an umbrella over her head and her huge purse banging up against the cars. A cab door opened after she banged past it, and Wes and Brad were there, following her. Brad shouting out "What's going on?" Wes clearly delighted in the chaos, shouting out, “I don’t know, but it’s fabulous!” I kept running, no time to figure out how fate brought us all together like this. I dodged through the maze of cars, cabs and buses, followed by this trail of my loved ones looking like some strange marathon to the people sitting in cars along our path.

Once I arrived in the airport I had to slow down, get my bearings. Once I knew where I was going, I started to run again, fighting my way through crowds when I was finally stopped short by the metal detectors. There was a line of people waiting to get through them. Casey and Roy caught up to me, not even needing to ask what was going on. Behind them, I saw Wes and Brad walking with my mom, who's white outfit was soaked and dirty. Casey looked at the line and whispered something in my ear. I lit up and ran to the front of the line.

"I really need to go through here."

"Get in the line, like everyone else then," said an older lady at the front.

I looked to the security guy. I thought about the fact that if I didn't get past here, I'd never get to Elliot in time. "I need to get through. My aunt is on her way back to Brazil. I didn't get to see her, I was stuck in traffic. I can't miss her." He looked like he was watching an uninteresting TV show, chewing his gum and shrugging. "Look, I- if I don't see her now. I probably will never see her again. She doesn’t- have much time left." I shuddered and gave my best performance. The older lady touched my shoulder.

"You go on, then. Sir, you let him go through there."

The security guy wasn't buying it, but ushered me forward. I threw my keys and my watch into a basket, onto the conveyer belt and walked through the detector. Once through, I started running again, as the other person manning the detector shouted that I left my things.

I reached the Air Brazil terminal only to find it empty. I rushed to the desk and scared the shit out of a thin airline queen who was reading a TV Novelas magazine.

"Has the 6:20 left yet? Please?"

He nodded. Over his shoulder, I saw that the plane was beginning to back out of the terminal. "No, no, no!" I muttered, running over to the window. I started slamming my hands on the window, shouting "Elliot! Elliot!" Over and over again. The plane doesn't pause, of course. The airline queen at the counter looked at me sideways, one hand on the phone, ready to call security on me. I stepped back, defeated, looking sheepishly at him. Of all the thoughts that could have entered my mind at a time like that, for some reason all I could think about was the fact that the airport radio was playing Bread's song "If.” By then a group of the airlines flight attendants, who all seemed to be gay men, had accumulated at the Air Brazil desk. I blinked and said something like, "This is one of my favorite songs."

I began walking out of the terminal, not looking at anyone, just staring at my soaked-through shoes, idly wondering where the nearest bathroom was, as I was close to completely breaking down in tears. Obviously fate hadn't messed with me enough today, as I didn't notice the Wet Floor sign. I slipped, landing flat on my back. Just as I was thinking, “Well, that's that then,” I had a vision of Elliot, looking down at me with a quizzical expression and saying "Ben?" He offered me his hand to help me up. This was really happening, I realized. "Ben, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here- I came to find you, to stop you from leaving. But you were on that plane- I thought."

"I'm on the next flight." I looked at Charlotte, who shrugged and winked at me.

                   "I don't understand, Ben. What about Matthew?"

                   "Matthew?"

                   "I saw you. Through your window. You were kissing him."

"Oh my God. Elliot, he was trying- if you'd just stayed a few seconds longer, you could have seen Roy beating the crap out of him and kicking him out. I can't believe that because of him-"

I didn't know what else to say. One case of bad timing had completely knocked us off track and now he was leaving. Leaving the country.

"Elliot, I'm so in love with you. And I came here to tell you that I'm completely yours. If you still want me. When you come back. From Brazil."

By now, I'd noticed that we weren't alone. My family had caught up with me and were surrounding the two of us. The entire group of Air Brazil flight attendants were watching us, one of them translating everything we said into Portuguese. All I could see was Elliot. All I wondered was what the next words that came out of his mouth would mean to me.

"Ben. I want you." He dropped his bags and came towards me. "I love you." Suddenly WE were the couple in the airport, in love and surrounded by onlookers cheering us on, feeling like a pair of birds taking flight.

The End.

Rick@picturesandframesmagazine.com

SPOTLIGHT:

Edward Norton

1969 -

          Most actors leave an indelible impression on one’s mind with a defining performance that interests the viewer to the point where he or she will seek out other films to experience more of the actor’s work. Usually there will be a few titles in their earlier work that are not worth discovering, a few where you could see the actor’s talent and one or two that really affect you. But some actors make you take notice right from the beginning. In 1996 a film called Primal Fear made us take notice of the debut performance of one of our finest actors, Edward Norton.

          Born on August 18, 1969, Norton is the son of an attorney and a teacher. He took an interest in acting at a young age and was actively involved in drama and theater programs from adolescence to his tenure at Yale where he majored in history. After spending some time performing on the New York stage, Norton auditioned for Primal Fear, beating out a reported 2000 young actors for the part.

          In Primal Fear, Norton gives an excellent performance as Aaron Stampler, a young Catholic man accused of murdering a priest with a celebrated public reputation. Norton plays Stampler, a stuttering and timid young man, with great sincerity. But his performance becomes truly extraordinary when we meet Aaron’s alternate personality, a brash and macho antithesis. Norton does an expert job at shifting back and forth between the two, never once blurring the line that divides the meek Aaron from his explosive counterpart. As the film comes to a close a secret is revealed that makes Norton’s performance even more impressive.

          The word on Norton’s abilities obviously got out quick because he nabbed two more feature roles that same year. In The People vs. Larry Flynt, Norton plays the controversial pornographer’s lawyer. Also in 1996, Edward Norton was cast in Woody Allen’s musical comedy Everyone Says I Love You. Norton is funny and charming as the exasperated fiancé to Drew Barrymore and showed another talent when he sang a couple of musical numbers for the film.