MOVIES:
Steven Spielberg once said “the only thing better than seeing movies is
reading about them.”
We agree. This month:
In Search of a Midnight Kiss
and Towelhead. Plus, reviews of The House Bunny,
The Family that Preys and Rocknrolla.
DVD'S:
"Pushing Daisies": Season 1, "Samantha Who?": Season 1 and
Deception.
MUSIC:
The Verve - Forth, Juliana Hatfield - How to Walk
Away, Adriana Evans – Nomadic, and Ne-Yo –
Year of the Gentleman.
BOOKS:
FOCUS:
"Transformation" by Markell Williams and “Real Genius,” a
review of Apple's Genius program, by Rick Sayre.
SPOTLIGHT: “To
be a woman in today’s society invariably means that, at one
point or another in your life, you will be criticized for
being too fat, too skinny, too pretty, too plain, too ugly,
too slutty, the list goes on and on. To be a female actress
in today’s movie business is to be given a direct guarantee
that all of these things will come your way twofold
publicly—in print and even worse, on the gossip blogosphere.
It doesn’t matter if you’re Meryl Streep (even she is
ridiculed)—your acting ability is not what will be judged
but rather, as in the case of Renée Zellweger, how skinny
your legs are and how squinty your eyes may be.”
Starring:
Aaron Eckhart, Toni Collette, Matt Letscher, Eugene Jones, Maria Bello,
Peter Macdissi, and Summer Bishil.
Emerging
into one's own as a teenager is never easy. Throw in an exacting, wacky
Lebanese father, an American mother missing-in-action, a philandering
Army reservist next-door neighbor, and a black boyfriend and you've got
a unique drama. While darkly comedic, Towelhead, based on the
critically acclaimed novel by Alicia Erian and written for the screen
and directed by Academy Award-winning American Beauty writer and
“Six Feet Under”creator, Alan Ball,is undoubtedly
disturbing. Completely so. A controversial film, it will certainly
engage and stun viewers with its reality and brutal truths.
Jasira
Maroun (Bishil) is a strikingly sensual thirteen-year old Arab-American
girl blossoming sexually during the Gulf War. She eagerly and
passionately explores her physicality and exudes maturity years beyond
her age, daily tackling the racist and insensitive brunt of school
bullies and her new suburban neighborhood. Initially, living with her
mother Gail (Bello) and her not-too committed boyfriend, Jasira is sent
to live with her father, Rifat (Macdissi), in Houston to "understand how
men live." A very Americanized Lebanese NASA employee, he immediately
revolts against Jasira's too comfortable fashions and free spirit.
Little does he know that Jasira's independence and freedom as a young
woman will press on through his negativity and parental disregard; she
is inspiring.
Next-door
neighbors, the Vuosos, soon come visiting with pie whereupon father and
Army reservist Travis (Eckhart) is immediately attracted to Jasira,
offering a babysitting job for son Zack. Eek! Eckhart succeeds in
looking every bit the messed-up man who would begin actively pursuing a
child, but invokes moments of simple sympathy in his utter desperation
and misery. He steals Jasira's innocence so silently it will actually
create vomit in your heart.
But not
all is lost. It never is. A sweet African-American boy,
Thomas (Jones), falls for Jasira and their budding romance, as peers,
restores so much of the film tenderly, lovingly, honestly and innocently
(thank God!). The way Jasira smiles during these portions of the film is
so precious and priceless your soul will be massaged whole with human
Vicks VapoRub. This, along with Jasira's relationship with nosy,
progressive and brilliantly conscious neighbors the Hines (Collette and
Letscher), a couple that makes you wish every teen had such a positive
force nearby, are the main sources of joy throughout the movie, which
concludes with an ending that will leave you beautifully speechless.
(Note: If there is a Matt Letscher-type in the Northern Virginia area,
please contact me.)
Starring:
Scoot McNairy, Sara Simmonds, Brian Matthew McGuire, Katy Luong
What if
you took a chance on Craigslist Personals...on New Year's Eve?
In Search
of a Midnight Kiss
is a black-and-white-everyman Before Sunrise, Los
Angeles-style. (Not a complete surprise coming from Anne Walker,
producer of Richard Linklater's Before Sunset and Dazed and
Confused, and this film as well.) Wilson (McNairy) is a sweet,
shy, late twenty-something persuaded by his kooky best friend to hit up
Craigslist for a date on New Year's Eve. The ad, complete with the
deliberate typing of "misanthrope seeks misanthrope," brings a call from
Vivian (Simmonds).
An
aspiring actress, Vivian auditions Wilson at a sidewalk cafe in shades
and fur, true entertainment while furiously smoking on her tight
deadline to not spend New Year's Eve with a dud: fate to be decided at
6pm. Though their initial chemistry is minor (glam meets geek), the two
willingly go along in each other's company for the day. Wandering
downtown in the city, they gradually shed their trappings to find
Sheridan Square's abandoned movie palaces where the two spontaneously
affirm their dreams and identities. Vivian imagines reopening all the
lost theatres and inspiring a magical revival. Three months in to his LA
move from Texas, screenwriter Wilson candidly recounts his laptop
robbery while out walking one day.
With
nothing to lose, the two share so honestly with each other footstep by
footstep, that their short romance is very real. When Vivian explains
that her ex-boyfriend is an abusive, loony redneck, the two, with
minutes to spare, recklessly run to retrieve her African drums (she had
her lesson the following week), childhood pictures, and her secret stash
of weed before he burns it all. When she presses him with the question
of his interest in sex on their first date, Wilson is silent, found with
five condoms all thanks to his roomie hilariously prepping him
for the "truth" of LA's female landscape.
Actively
struggling, the pair heals, connects and loves each other, permeating
each moment with all that they are. Its perfection is totallyrighteous.
Starring: Anna Faris, Colin Hanks, Emma Stone, Kat Dennings, Katharine
McPhee, Rumer Willis and Dana Goodman.
Anna Faris is probably best known for
her role in the Scary Movie series, but to me she will always be
Samantha James, the crazy ‘toothpaste eating’ pop singer in the
underrated comic gem Just Friends. Faris stole the show from Ryan
Reynolds in that film, not an easy feat I might add, and just like that,
a comic genius was born. In House Bunny, produced by Adam
Sandler’s Happy Madison production company, Faris is dazzling as the
Playboy-bunny-turned-sorority-house-mother. She manages to make what
would have been an otherwise formulaic and clichéd comedy into something
really fun and oddly genuine. The fact that the incredible Colin Hanks
plays her love interest doesn’t hurt matters either.
Starring: Alfre Woodard, Sanaa Lathan, Rockmond Dunbar, KaDee
Strickland, Cole Hauser, Taraji P. Henson, Robin Givens, Tyler Perry and
Kathy Bates.
I like Tyler Perry, I really do. Unlike most movie critics, I actually
believe that he has something unique to say and have therefore never
agreed with their perception of Perry’s work as being anything less than
original. Until now. The Family That Preys feels incredibly
forced and hackneyed, and resembles something that I would see on the
Lifetime network on a Sunday afternoon. Every plot twist and turn of
events in the film is completely predictable, as are all of the film’s
main characters, which never rise above their rather pathetic
stereotypes (corrupt rich white guy—check; angry black woman—check). As
a fan of Alfre Woodard, Kathy Bates and Cole Hauser, the latter who is
rarely used to his potential (eeek, Paparazzi!), and as a lover
of all things Sanaa Lathan, to say that I was disappointed by this film
truly pains me. Maybe it sounds ridiculous to say it aloud but…I
expected more from Tyler Perry.
Starring: Gerard Butler, Tom Hardy, Toby Kebbell, Ludacris, Jeremy Piven,
Jimi Mistry, Thandie Newton, Tom Wilkinson.
About five seconds into Guy Ritchie’s
latest film, RocknRolla, the fact that you are watching a Guy
Ritchie film becomes abundantly clear. Any fantasies that I may have had
about watching something directed by Ritchie that didn’t so closely
resemble Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, Snatch or
Revolver were immediately thrown out the window the moment that the
loud rock n’ roll music began blaring. RocknRolla has the manly
hot men, interesting albeit shaky shots, violence, drugs, gangsters and
guns in spades, but what it lacks completely is any originality. If this
feels like every other Guy Ritchie film that’s because it is—with the
exception of the wholly underrated Swept Away—and while that
doesn’t mean that RocknRolla isn’t enjoyable on a completely
gratuitous level (did I mention the hot men? See picture of Tom Hardy
below), it does make me wonder if Ritchie hasn’t run out of bumbling
criminal stories to tell.
…or one more love letter to Lee Pace. And it really is all
about love, this show. Ned the Pie Maker (Pace) is in love with a girl,
Charlotte “Chuck” Charles (Anna Friel). Adorable waitress Olive Snook
(Kristin Chenoweth) loves Ned, too. Traveling salesman Fredo (played by
Broadway star Raúl Esparza) pops up from time to time because he’s in
love with Olive. And Chi McBride is a private detective who loves two
things: Knitting and money. Which is why he joins forces with Ned, who
can bring people back from the dead with the touch of his finger, and
send them back with a second touch. They bring murder victims back to
life to find out who killed them and then collect the reward. However,
if Ned doesn’t let the dead go back to being that way, someone in the
vicinity will die instead. Which is how Chuck’s father died, after young
Ned brought his mother back to life. Chuck doesn’t know the truth about
this. But it gets harder to hide it from her after he has brought Chuck
herself back from an early grave.
It may sound confusing, but in fact, “Pushing Daisies” is a
weekly slice of magic and charm. It’s even better all in one go. It’s a
candy-colored production filled with superb performances, swoon-worthy
romance and a handful of Hitchcock-references for you aficionados. The
DVD includes about an hour’s worth of featurettes in which the cast and
creator Bryan Fuller (who also brought us the brilliant “Wonderfalls”
and dearly departed “Dead Like Me”) discuss their favorite moments of
the season. Once you start, you’ll want to watch it all in one day.
Trust me. And get ready for season two, which begins on October 1st!
When it comes to television, I have a knack for being more
interested in dramas or thrillers, those with rich mythologies and deep,
rich characters. As far as comedies are concerned, it pretty much comes
down to “Arrested Development” and “The Office” (unless we’re talking
Britcoms. I love me some Britcoms). So it was a pretty big
surprise when I found myself being won over by last season’s ABC sitcom,
“Samantha Who?”
I have always loved Jean Smart and over the past few years have
developed a huge amount of love for the comedic styling of Christina
Applegate, so when my friend became addicted, I was more open to giving
it a try simply to see these actors again. The show, about a young woman
who wakes up from a weeklong coma without any memories of who she was
before, is really a silly, fluffy farce. But I love it. I love Smart and
Kevin Dunn as Samantha’s oddball parents and Melissa McCarthy as the
friend Samantha dumped in junior high who pretty much stalked her
hospital room to become her friend again. I love Barry Watson, adorable
and charming as Samantha’s ex-boyfriend. I LOVE love Jennifer
Esposito’s scene-stealing best friend who recalls Joanna Lumley’s Patsy
in “Absolutely Fabulous.” But mostly, my love for “Samantha Who?” is
because of Samantha herself, Christina Applegate. As a sweet woman who
is discovering that she had a very un-sweet side to her, she is
loveable, charming and most importantly, FUNNY.
The DVD isn’t exactly packed with features, but it does include a
cute blooper reel and a handful of deleted scenes, as well as a
commentary on the pilot episode by Applegate and the show’s producers.
All in all it’s a 5-hour soufflé of laughs.
Sex and Ewan McGregor are quite a
popular combination here at Pictures & Frames. Therefore, the
little-seen Deception (which was also known as The Tourist)
is a film particularly suited to us. In the film, McGregor plays John, a
mild-mannered accountant. John is befriended by suave, charismatic Wyatt
(Hugh Jackman), who gets John high, takes him to a strip club and
eventually gets him laid. When they accidentally switch mobile phones,
John begins to receive calls from women asking "Are you free tonight?"
He says yes and finds himself in a chic hotel with a beautiful woman.
They have sex and the next morning she's gone.
It is all part of a sex club known as
“The List.” There are rules—you don't share your name for one thing.
John takes advantage of Wyatt's absence and meets several women this
way. Then one night, he finds himself in a hotel with the beautiful
blonde (Michelle Williams) he had spotted on the train a month earlier.
He convinces her to dine with him instead of having meaningless sex and
then charms her enough to get her to meet him for a second date. Then
things go off track and the girl, whom he knows only as "S", is missing.
I remember hearing a lot about The
Tourist before its release, which seems to have come and gone. In
fact, I only happened to see it in the video aisle by chance under the
new name, Deception. I'm not sure why it didn't get more
attention upon its release because it's a pretty compelling thriller,
well-paced and well acted by a great cast that includes Lisa Gay
Hamilton, Charlotte Rampling and Maggie Q. The story initially reminded
me of Eyes Wide Shut (mysterious and exclusive sex club for
wealthy people), but ends up being much more satisfying. Jackman is as
charming as anyone ever could be, McGregor is sweetly shy and Michelle
Williams is breathtakingly beautiful and mysterious. In fact, the
chemistry between her and McGregor is enough to set fire to your screen.
The film is gorgeously shot by Dante
Spinotti, who manages to capture some haunting imagery of New York City.
Deception is the first film by director Marcel Langenegger, who
provides a commentary on the DVD. Look, it may not be as revolutionary
as something like Memento, but it's a fun suspense movie that
will keep you entertained for a couple of hours. Even if you don't like
the film, it's another chance to see Ewan McGregor in his underwear.
"Are you free tonight?"
Looking at my recent music purchases made me laugh when I
realized how similar they looked to the music I was listening to 15
years ago; Juliana Hatfield and Johnette Napolitano, formerly of the
band Concrete Blonde. The strange thing is that of the two, Hatfield’s
album is the one I adore, while in the past it’s always been the
opposite. In fact, after her Only Everything, the magic had sort
of disappeared between Hatfield and me. I don’t know what it was that
compelled me so to pick up her newest disc, How to Walk Away, but
it was a surprisingly good reunion.
Her style as a songwriter and a musician has matured quite a
bit during the decade or so that we’ve been apart. There’s a depth and
richness present in her work now that makes me swoon. It’s almost like
running into a friend after years apart and discovering that you’ve
lived through some of the same experiences, bonding over the old “what
doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” sentiments. Another welcome
surprise is how much Hatfield has grown as a vocalist. You must check
out the outstanding track, “My baby”—it’s a perfect taste of this album.
After a little
over a year, Ne-Yo returns with his junior effort Year of the
Gentleman. Listeners may be thinking “How can he top himself after
two monster albums: 2006’s In My Own Words and 2007’s Because
of You?” Well, it’s hard to say whether he’s topped himself but he’s
done an excellent job of delivering another consistent album with a
slightly different musical appeal.
It seems Ne-Yo
had several goals when creating Year of the Gentleman. He was
unimpressed with the humdrum stylings of contemporary R&B music so he
wanted to challenge the genre and himself musically. He set out to
expand his sound and create an album that was different from what we’ve
heard previously. He also set out to pay homage to the artists who’ve
influenced him over the years (Michael Jackson, Frank Sinatra, George
Michael, and Sting to name a few). The album definitely stretches Ne-Yo’s
sound. Though there’s no question that this is an R&B album, the music
has more of a pop (and sometimes dance/club) feel to it. This is most
evident on the first two singles “Closer” and the ladies anthem “Miss
Independent” (both produced by StarGate) and ballads like “Stop This
World” (Chuck Harmony) and “Mad” (StarGate). Guitar-driven songs like
“Part Of The List” (Chuck Harmony) and “Back To What You Know” (StarGate)
are reminiscent of Babyface in terms of style and arrangement.
Lyrically, Ne-Yo
is still one of the best songwriters of his generation. He’s able to
take his experiences and experiences of those around him and turn them
into to songs that people from all walks of life can relate to. “So You
Can Cry” (Syience) was written about one of his friends who locked
herself in her apartment after a breakup. In this song, Ne-Yo “asks the
sun to shine away from you/so you can cry.” On “Mad,” Ne-Yo says he’d
rather him and his girl talk through their problems because “He doesn’t
want to go to bed mad at you/And I don’t want you to go to bed mad at
me.” On “Why Does She Stay” (Stereotypes), Ne-Yo ponders why his girl
continues to be with him with all of his imperfections and all she
endured with him during the relationship. And on “Single” (Polow Da Don)
Ne-Yo uses his charms to seduce a woman, promising he’ll “be her
boyfriend till the song goes off.”
Vocally, Ne-Yo
continues to showcase his skills. He’s grown quite a bit (as heard on
“Stop This World,” “Why Does She Stay,” and “Fade Into The Background”).
He seems to be even more confident in his vocal abilities. At some
points though, he does sound eerily like Michael Jackson (“Nobody”, “Lie
To Me”). And he sings with his falsetto a bit more on this album than he
did on his previous efforts.
If there is one
downfall about Year of the Gentleman, it’s that it loses momentum
as it nears the end. The songs slow down quite a bit and may not catch
on with listeners as much as songs on the first half of the album. The
ballads are good, but the mid-and up-tempo tracks are the strongest
here. Overall, Ne-Yo and company have created a good album. Different
from what you might expect but still quite good. Ne-Yo may not have
topped himself with Year of the Gentleman, but he’s well on his
way to building an acclaimed catalog that will continue to attract music
lovers of all kinds.
Forth
is a truly disappointing album from a band that I never thought would
ever be disappointing. Turns out that Forth is the perfect
collection of background music for your next alternative psychedelic
rock party, and I don’t mean this in a good way. But before I continue
with any more Forth bashing, here’s a bit of Verve history for
those of you out there that don’t remember who they are.
The Verve formed
back in 1989 in Manchester, England at a time when grunge was taking off
in America, and Britpop bands like Oasis, Blur, Pulp, Bush and Radiohead
were starting to make waves around the world. The Verve perfected the
Spector-esque “wall of sound” effect, turning obscure psychedelic delay
driven rock into a mainstream commercial sound. Their debut album A
Storm in Heaven went mostly unnoticed in the U.S and in the UK.
Unfortunately, what did get noticed was their heavy drug use and the
escalading band turmoil.
This was the
beginning of a troubling trend that would lead them to their inevitable
break up in 1999. Three months after the release of the bands second
album, A Northern Soul, lead singer Richard Ashcroft broke up the
band only to reunite it weeks later. A Northern Soul was better
received than their previous attempt but it was their third album,
Urban Hymns, that brought fame and critical acclaim to this
underappreciated band. Urban Hymns is a true rock classic, filled
with uplifting ballads and beautifully crafted pop rock anthems. "Bitter
Sweet Symphony” became the bands biggest hit of all time, reaching
number twelve in the U.S. charts. (Oddly enough however, much like the
title of the song suggests, the success of "Bitter Sweet Symphony” was
bitter sweet. The song contained a sample of the Rolling Stones’ song
“The Last Time.” Although they obtained permission to use the sample
from the company that represented the Stones catalog ABKCO Records, the
owner decided that The Verve had sampled more than was originally
agreed. This turned into a legal battle that ended with all of the
profits from the songs writing royalties going to ABKCO Records.)
The continued
fighting between the band members along with the pressures of success
forced the band to break up for good. Leaving us with three albums,
three EP’s and a collection of unforgettable songs like: “The Drug’s
Don’t Work,” “Lucky Man,” “Sonnet,” “Bitter Sweet Symphony,” Space and
Time,” “This Time,” “Slide Away,” “History,” “Blue,” “Gravity Grave” and
“Monte Carlo.”
In June of 2007
the band announced that they were reuniting. This of course was great
news and when I heard that they were also releasing an album, well that
was just the icing on the cake. Which brings us back to Forth, a
slow, monotonous disappointment that leaves so much to be desired. With
the exception of one or two tracks the entire album seems scattered and
put together without much attention to the quality of songwriting. My
advice is to skip the Forth and wait and see if the band stays
together long enough to make the redeeming Fifth.
Unless you were
an early lover of neo-soul, Adriana Evans may be an unfamiliar name.
Evans appeared in 1997 with her critically acclaimed self-titled debut
album. She made moderate impact with the promising singles “Seeing Is
Believing” and “Love Is All Around.” Hers was a sound that was organic,
steeped in the soul music of yesterday but flavored with contemporary
sounds and social awareness of the day. Even then her sound was a hybrid
of many styles of music (R&B/soul, jazz, and hip-hop to name a few).
Evans seemingly disappeared not too long after promoting her debut
release. It would be seven years before she returned to the spotlight
again. In 2004, she released Nomadic, an album whose sound and
style proved to be even more expansive than that of her first effort.
Nomadic
is a 13-track set Evans wrote and produced with longtime collaborator
Jonathan Scott (a.k.a. Dred Scott). As soon as listeners hear the first
track, “Intro: Walking To The Sun,” it will be quite apparent how great
Evans’ love and appreciation for music is (which stems from her father’s
eclectic, wide-ranging tastes and her mother being a jazz singer). In
the first track she points to Western music’s connection with Africa and
expresses difficulty in trying to pinpoint one style of music that best
suits her. As she states, she may do an “Afro-Latin-rock song” because
music “is all the same thing” to her (because it all comes from the same
place).
After hearing the
tracks that follow, listeners will not only hear but also feel the
rhythms of African and Latin music and an ingenious mixture of soul,
jazz, folk, (glam/heavy) rock, hip-hop, salsa, and samba. There’s the
nostalgic “Remember The Love” with its infectious mix of samba and soul
(some listeners may remember the tune as the theme song to LOGO’s hit
show “Noah’s Arc”). And then there’s the funky mix of rock and soul on
“What It Is.” One of the most eclectic tunes is the introspective “I
Have a Dream,” with its David Bowie-esque mix of glam rock, soul, and
Latin music. However, hands down, the best track on the album is “7
Days.” “7 Days” is Evans’ “Afro-Latin-rock” song. It’s been a week since
she’s been with her lover and she’s greatly anticipating his return. The
combination of her vocal performance and the musical arrangement do a
wonderful job of expressing her yearning. Other highlights are “Cold As
Ice,” “In Search Of,” “Something,” and “Former Self.”
Evans is also an
accomplished vocalist. She possesses angelic pipes with phrasing
reminiscent of Deniece Williams and Minnie Riperton and timber somewhat
similar to Cheryl Lynn. Like many of her contemporaries, she has great
flexibility. She’s able to adjust to any musical style with ease. Her
phrasing and timbre are quite beautiful on “Morning Light,” a sparsely
arranged jazz tune with vocals and piano accompaniment.
Nomadic
is a perfect title for this album because it speaks to Evans’ varied,
eclectic musical spirit and the moving mix of styles represented on the
album. There really is nothing bad to say about this release. It’s a
stellar collection – one where all elements come together quite nicely.
Do yourself a favor and check this out and all of her other releases
(1997’s Adriana Evans, 2005’s Kismet, and 2007’s El
Camino). It may be hard getting your hands on her music but trust
me—it will be well worth it. You don’t hear music as sweet as this on
the radio everyday.
When I found out about you, the quirky new iTunes function, I have to
say I was pretty intrigued. The idea being that I can choose any song in
my library and you will create a playlist around it. It appeals to me so
because I’ve been making mix tapes since I was 13. I made a whole series
of mixes called “Electric Mayhem” during my 20s. I gave them out to
friends and acquaintances. “Here, this is the music that makes me
smile!” I had a “blue mix” filled with the sort of songs one plays when
they’re feeling melancholic and it’s raining and they just want to
wallow. I had a “red mix” that was intended to work as an aphrodisiac.
(Sadly, I had not yet heard Bow Wow Wow’s brilliant track,
“Aphrodisiac,” otherwise it surely would have made the cut. I did,
however, include Led Zeppelin’s “D’yer Make’r” as it is the sexiest song
ever.) I made mixes based on stories I wrote or even to inspire stories
I was writing. I was pretty much the King of Compiling.
Since the advent of iTunes and the greatest invention ever, the MP3
player (the iPod being my weapon of choice), the ability to make
playlists has become a pastime for the side of me who’d invent mix tapes
like “STAY AWAKE!” or “Reading Music.” Much like Rob Fleming and his
employees at Championship Vinyl in Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity, I
try to top myself with each subsequent mix.
Then Apple creates you, Genius. Not that you would have stopped me from
making my own playlists, but I was dying to see what you’d bring to my
iPod. After a week of sampling your work, I have to say this:
You are no Rob Fleming. Or Nick Hornby, for that matter, considering
that one of my favorite compilations comes from the CD accompanying
Hornby’s Songbook.
I decided to try something fun first. A Genius mix of Kylie Minogue’s
recent “In My Arms.” I’ll give it to you, Genius, it was a fun playlist
to listen to. Kylie and Robbie Williams do go very well together. Some
of the newer Madonna, fine. No surprises, though. Next up, my most
played song on iTunes (with 32 plays and counting!), k.d. lang’s version
of the Jane Siberry song, “Love Is Everything.” Wow. You chose Siberry’s
version as the second track. Really, Genius? I mean, a real mix tape
artist would have slipped that in somewhere in side B. The addition of
Joni Mitchell, Shawn Colvin and Annie Lennox are good choices. Safe
choices. I was pleased to see that you picked a song by Toni Collette &
The Finish, and the Tom Waits and Laura Nyro songs were nice surprises.
But where’s the diversity?
I will tell you this: Your take on Julee Cruise’s “Falling” (a.k.a. the
theme from “Twin Peaks”) was dead on. It is one of the best mixes I’ve
ever heard. From the Cocteau Twins to the Sugarcubes and New Order, it
all sounds good. Then you threw in some Neneh Cherry, Tanita Tikram
and—wait for it—Martika! Okay, Genius. Well played.
Still, I’d really like to hear different genres once in a while. So I
decided to start off with something off the beaten track of, you know,
female singer/songwriters. I punch in “99 Problems,” the one Jay-Z song
occupying my library. Lo and behold, a playlist comprised almost
exclusively of hip-hop songs. And considering the lack of hip-hop on my
iPod, it is an interesting menagerie, from A Tribe Called Quest to the
Roots to… well, Sir Mix-A-Lot and Will Smith. But wait, what is this?
Lodged in among Missy Elliott and The Streets? Fiona Apple? Not just
Fiona Apple, but Fiona Apple performing “Frosty the Snowman” from a
compilation called Christmas Calling.
What. The. Fuck?
Is my Genius on crack?
I decided to try a different track. The Roots and Erykah Badu doing “You
Got Me.” Kurtis Blow. LL Cool J. FIONA APPLE PERFORMING “FROSTY THE
SNOWMAN”!
Tribe’s “I Left My Wallet In El Segundo.” “FROSTY THE SNOWMAN”!!!!
Plan B. What will you create around “Frosty?”
…Foxy Brown. Beastie Boys. Queen Latifah. Pras. Incidentally, there was
only one other Christmas song, a track by Keb’ Mo’.
Genius, you mystify me. And not just because of the “Frosty the Hip-Hop
Snowman” obsession. Not just because you paired up Tori Amos performing
“a sorta fairytale” with Janet Jackson, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey
and Charlene’s “I’ve Never Been To Me.” And while I do love the
beautiful playlists based around Joni Mitchell’s “The Last Time I Saw
Richard” and Roberta Flack & Donny Hathaway performing “Baby I Love
You,” I think what your mixes lack is (your obvious affinity for
Me’Shell Ndegeocello aside) soul.
It’s all well and good to create a playlist based on beats per minute,
composer, genre or “people who purchased Metric also liked Broken Social
Scene.” However, nothing tops listening to a mix that someone put
thought and feeling into and knowing that it was made just for your
ears. There’s something about creating a great mix for yourself, too,
choosing the best songs, being eclectic and expressive, adding the ones
that you can’t believe no one else loves and then sharing it with
others.
I’ll continue to make playlists with you, Genius. Just because I like to
see what you’ll make of random songs like Princes’ “Sexy M.F.” (good!)
and Willy Nelson’s “Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other”
(lame!), but when it comes to making mixes for friends and- well,
crushes… I’ll use my heart instead.
To be a woman in today’s society invariably means that, at one point or
another in your life, you will be criticized for being too fat, too
skinny, too pretty, too plain, too ugly, too slutty, the list goes on
and on. To be a female actress in today’s movie business is to be given
a direct guarantee that all of these things will come your way twofold
publicly—in print and even worse, on the gossip blogosphere. It doesn’t
matter if you’re Meryl Streep (even she is ridiculed)—your acting
ability is not what will be judged but rather, as in the case of Renée
Zellweger, how skinny your legs are and how squinty your eyes may be.
As a result, talent often falls by the wayside where actresses
are concerned, and especially where Zellweger is concerned. It is
odd to me that, short of her Best Supporting Actress Oscar-win for her
portrayal of Ruby Thewes in 2003’s Cold Mountain, Zellweger is
rarely praised as an actress. This is especially frustrating when you
look at the career that she has already had at such a young age—Bridget
Jones, Chicago, One True Thing, White Oleander,
Down With Love, Cold Mountain and Jerry Maguire,
the film that started it all.
Zellweger’s Dorothy Boyd is a character that I fall in love
with every single time that I watch Jerry Maguire (and having
seen the film, oh, say, at least 40 times, that’s a lot of falling in
love). Zellweger was 27 when she played the role and yet there is wisdom
in her performance, which is obviously key for the role of a single mom,
far beyond her years that permeates every scene that she’s in. Zellweger
has a face that writhes with emotion—if she is happy, you can tell; if
she is sad, you can tell. You know exactly what her character is
feeling because she emotes it so clearly and succinctly, and there is so
much beauty to be found in that. There is a scene in Jerry Maguire,
after Dorothy and Jerry have gotten married, where she stands in the
living room watching footage of the ceremony. In a matter of seconds we
see her go from blissful happiness to the sad realization that the man
that she just married may not love her in the way that she thought he
did—and all of this is expressed without a single spoken word.
This silent expressiveness carries on into her next role as
Ellen Guiden in One True Thing. Ellen is a successful
20-something-aspiring-writer whose world is turned upside down when her
mother, played by Meryl Streep, is diagnosed with cancer. If I had to
choose my favorite Renée Zellweger film (not to mention Meryl Streep
film) it would have to be this one. Although I loved her performance in
Jerry Maguire, Zellweger is astonishing in One True Thing.
I related to her character on so many levels; to this day the film is
one of the best commentaries on the complex mother-daughter dynamic that
I have ever seen. There is so much raw emotion that goes back and forth
between Zellweger and Streep that at times, watching them act alongside
one another, you lose track of the fact that you’re watching a movie,
and that what you’re witnessing is actually not real. When Ellen
realizes that her father has been unfaithful to her mother for years,
that her mother has known about it all along… the look on Zellweger’s
face once again says it all.
There is a rather psychotic theme forming here, all to do with
Renée Zellweger’s face. I can swear up and down that I am not in love
with the woman but I fear that it will do me no good when I talk about
her performance as Mae Braddock in Cinderella Man or as Claire
Richards in White Oleander. Both roles serve as supporting
characters to the integral male leads and yet they are memorable in the
strength and unabashed love that Zellweger allows us to see. She takes
what would have been minor possibly unforgettable “wife” roles and turns
them into standout performances. But enough about Renée Zellweger’s
face. Let’s talk about her other major asset: her impeccable comedic
timing.
I know that it will seem like a stretch to compare Renée
Zellweger to the great Katherine Hepburn but bear with me as I do
exactly that. Just as Hepburn was able to maneuver her career through
dramas and comedies with seemingly little effort, think Mary of
Scotland to Stage Door to Bringing Up Baby to
Philadelphia Story, Zellweger is the only actress that can pull off
roles as demanding as Chicago’s Roxie Hart, Cold Mountain’s
Ruby Thewes, Leatherheads’ Lexie Littleton, Down With Love’s
Barbara Novak and, the legendary icon known the world-over simply as
Bridget Jones.
What makes all of these characters magical is the
golden-age-of-hollywood-esque wit, charm and electricity that Zellweger
brings to each of them. Roxie Hart would not be more than an ambitious
killer were she not also so ridiculously charming; the same could be
said for tough Ruby Thewes who serves as Cold Mountain’s sole
source of comedic relief. Zellweger is adorable and enchanting as
Barbara Novak, the feminist author in love with Ewan McGregor’s Catcher
Block in the delightful Down With Love. (Zellweger and McGregor’s
chemistry was so potent on-screen that they reunited again for 2006’s
Miss Potter.) And then of course, there’s Bridget Jones.
If I’ve seen Jerry Maguire 40 times then I have seen
Bridget Jones’ Diary at least 100. Unlike the character in Helen
Fielding’s book of the same name, which often straddles the line between
ditz and moron, Zellweger’s Bridget is a breath of rambling fresh air, a
relatable Holly Golightly for our generation. Zellweger is so incredibly
charming as Bridget Jones, and her English accent so impeccable, that it
is hard to imagine any English actress in her stead. Bridget Jones is a
character that I often find myself relating to in my every day life, but
oddly enough, it is never Fielding’s Jones but rather Zellweger’s that I
think of. Fielding may have written the character originally but Renée
Zellweger truly brought it to life.
Having grown up watching and admiring actresses such as Bette
Davis, Joan Crawford, Elizabeth Taylor, Katherine Hepburn, Meryl Streep
and Jodie Foster, it became quite easy to find fault in every new
actress that graced the screen after them. But now more than ever, when
I look at women such as Julianne Moore, Kate Winslet, Cate Blanchett,
Juliette Binoche and yes, Renée Zellweger, I find that a whole new
generation of amazing actresses currently inhabit our collective movie
psyches. In spite of the tabloid fodder, they’ve all managed to pave
their own way and have careers that didn’t begin or end with ‘starlet’.
And at the tender age of 39, Renée Zellweger has plenty of ‘face’ left
to share.
