Musings and Mirth

Airline Hell

So, I accidentally made my plane reservation for the wrong day to fly to the Cannes Film Fest. Now I have to change it to a day earlier, if you can believe. My chaotic mind knows no bounds and cannot be tamed, despite my own verbal abuse, and sometimes physical. So yesterday the plane fare was under a grand. Today when I to an Expedia search it has soared to $1600. I am now looking at the possibility of missing the first day of the film festival because I’ll be damned if I’m going to shitcan $600. Am I being cheap? It’s all a write-off, I say, pretending to actually be a person who makes money and has write-offs.

Here I sit, broken hearted, trying to change my ticket but only…

This might be a good tie to pray to that God I don’t acknowledge. Yeah, good luck with that. On the upside, Expedia told me I had until May 9 to make this change and maybe, just maybe, the prices will drop again.

There is always the chance that the airlines have travelers by the balls right now due to a certain volcanic eruption.

Bloggers Never Stop Working

That’s the thing about blogging that occurred to me last night, as we stumbled out of California Adventure — the souls of our feet aching, our psyches bled out, our wallets drained – my thoughts were on the Oscars. Or they were on this other site I’m trying to get launched, or they were on a part of a site that I know needs a lot of work but if it works it will be great. My thoughts on it never end. That either makes me driven or it makes me a maniac. This is one key aspect about blogging that is different from being a journalist.

Journalists don’t have to build things from scratch. They are always getting credit — mostly from so-called PR guys – but really, most people who bag on blogger and praise journalists give the credit for doing the actual reporting. That means they make phone calls, ask questions, write a story, get paid. Lately, many of them have been getting laid off yet the bloggers remain. Why? Because most of us did it before we were making money, and many of us would do it even if we weren’t making money.

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So You Wanna Be a Blogger — Everybody is Going to Hate You

Ugh. This has not been a great week. If you want to blog, know this: the more successful you become, the more people are going to hate you. I am unfortunately an Oscar blogger, an invented genre, an invented profession and one no one respects. It is like uttering a dirty word in a crowded room of nuns when someone asks you what you do. I usually just say “I run a movie site,” or “I run an awards site.” It almost always requires further explanation.

The great thing about the internet is that people don’t often rely upon one site or one voice. They can hop around from site to site getting their daily fix. There is competition, always. And there is usually a winner. Everyone else scrambles to either top the winner or eke out a little piece of the pie on their own. I’ll let you in on a secret: it all kind of makes me sick and any day now I’m ready to jump ship and go teach elementary kids.

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Watching Movies with Emma

One of the things I’m most proud of about the kid is that she loves movies like I do. I can’t believe that she can quote them better and with more precision than I can. The movies we quote back and forth now are Shakespeare in Love, A Fish Called Wanda and Burn After Reading. We seem to get no end of pleasure from Burn after Reading. There are so many great quotes:

“I’m writing a sort of a …. memoir.”
“Did you get the cheeses? Oh, for fuck’s sake Ozzi.”
“I have a drinking problem? Fuck you, you’re a Mormon! To you we all have drinking problems.”
“It was just lying there. On the floor there. Just lying there.”
“In many ways, I’m much happier now.”
“I have a ginormous ass and a gut that swings back and forth in front of me like a shopping cart with a broken wheel.”

And on and on it goes. My daughter kindly omits the curse words — she says “eff” for fuck. And with the Coens, you know, fuck is almost every other word. We can’t hide curse words from our kids forever, though, can we? Hell, not a trash mouth like me.

The movies we recently watched: All About Eve, Strangers on a Train and Sleeper. I don’t think much got Sleeper but I did the chance to explain to her what slapstick comedy was. Sleeper is so much better to me now than it used to be. I especially enjoy a young and not fully formed Diane Keaton. She is so naturally funny – her gestures, her way of delivering his jokes, and even her shallow poetess-turned-revolutionary who gets to do a Brando impression and an old Jewish grandmother. Woody is cute, and still have the remnants of the “earlier, funnier” Woody, where the jokes were on him. That stopped being the case later — he stopped making fun of himself as much and started taking himself more seriously.

Emma laughed a few times at Woody’s jokes but for the most part if you aren’t a Woody fan already you might not be that into Sleeper. The orb is always funny.

Strangers on a Train fared a bit better because it not only has so many great characters, but it’s Hitchcock. And no one can hold an audience better than Hitchcock. She even proved the Hitchcock theory that the audience is “with” a character, even if the character is “bad.” She wanted Bruno to get the cigarette lighter that fell down the grate. Strangers on a Train is a near-flawless film. Emma has already had a few doses of the great Hitch with The Birds, Psycho and Vertigo (although that one requires a longer attention span, as does Rear Window). Strangers on a Train anyone can watch and be enthralled by.

Finally, All About Eve was the biggest success of all. That is due to Bette Davis and Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn, because Emma is already ruminating on this idea that Marilyn is considered one of history’s great beauties. Who hears Marilyn’s story and doesn’t fall in love with her? But she’s great in All About Eve – it’s her best role probably, next to Niagra perhaps. She has some great lines and she delivers them so well one would never know she would have so much trouble acting later on.

But Bette Davis – every line of dialogue is a zinger. What a great character. The kind you’d never see on screen today. They don’t make movies like this and they don’t build stars like this. Stars now are either forced to sew up their faces to make them look like swollen puppets, or else they do it on their own because they can’t stand to age. Either way, how sad. But Ms. Davis, she lets it all hang out.

All About Eve is a movie about an older stage star whose position is threatened when a younger, very ambitious actress injects herself into their lives. I told Emma that this is a prototype film – the kind that just got made over and over again in various other films and TV shows. It is iconic and forever imprinted on our psyches. Everyone knows or has dealt with an Eve in their lives and they don’t necessarily have to be female. They come along all admiring at first. Then they study you to become you and eventually they overtake you.

What makes All About Eve great is the writing and the acting — George Sanders is fantastic, especially in the last scene. But the film belongs to Ms. Davis.

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About Me

I spend way too much thinking about me. This is the blank space where that paragraph should be.