Viewing Pleasures - Chapter One: The Past

This is cocooning time of year, as unspeakably low temperatures grow fiercer in the wind, when all you want to do is crawl under the covers, or into a dark theatre after a good warm meal, and allow your mind to wander the globe through the screen.
We've been watching stuff - lots of stuff. From Sweden, Denmark, New Zealand, France. TV dramas that our dedicated crew at the local video shop are kind enough to bring in, and movies.

Lets do the latest movie first: The Past - the creator is an Iranian director, Asghar Farhadi. He places this story in Paris, not the Paris you see in a Woody Allen movie. Not the elegant chick Parisian glory saved for tourist, not the river and the churches. Instead we get the decrepit misery of the working class, but the crazy dramas that plague life for rich and poor alike are all there.
The theme of the story is the ripple effect our small personal choices have on the lives of everyone we touch. The ripples are more tsunami like than gentle waves: A displaced man riddled with depression leaves his family behind to go seek peace of mind in the old country. The end result is a woman he has never met and never will in a hospital bed in a coma. The trajectory of small seemingly unrelated actions people take that lead us there is the basis for this tragedy.
Don't expect laughs, there aren't any. Not a single smile crosses the faces of these people. They see no humour in their situation, because there isn't any. Love, passion, hope for something good is what these people want, they think what they do will get them what they want, but they make wrong choices, and others pay the price.
It's a good movie. Bleak but very good.

August: Osage County - Movie Review (spoiler alert)

Who can resist a movie with Dame Meryl Streep? I know she hasn't been knighted yet, but it's gonna happen one day. Anyway, I couldn't resist, although I kind of knew what I was about to see was going to be unpleasant.
It's the type of movie I usually avoid - the Great American Family Drama, in the way Tennesee Williams used to write them. I lost the taste for these melodramas long ago. But Meryl Streep… so I went.
It is very well written. There are some lines there that should be put into a bible of the best lines in movie history, seriously killer lines. Not that I can repeat them now, but I remember thinking that while we were laughing.
It starts funny, but goes sour pretty fast. You know the way it goes in family gatherings - we start laughing and end up crying.
Naturally, the acting is beyond reproach, impeccable. I don't quite understand why the two English boys, Benedict Cumberbatch and Ewan McGreggor had to be brought from across the pond to play American guys - seems that Mr. Cumberbatch is a must in every production these days, but they took away his best tool, his fabulous English clip. Oy. Not terribly good use of his presence.
They make for a good looking crazy bunch, with a passion for what they call 'truth-telling' that gives truth telling a bad name. These are the kinds of truths you want to be kept buried for eternity, not splashed all over the old furniture and your face during lunch. They tell it to you regardless, and the results aint pretty.
Subtlety is not to be seen here. It is a brutal play, but a bit of holding back in the story line would have done it much good. Towards the end in particular, when everybody's guts are already slashed and bleeding, a little restraint should have been deployed. Since this is America everything is torn apart in the end, with no one left standing.
I see Oscar parties coming for these guys. They do love blood in America.

Here are some of these lines, for your pleasure:
BARBARA: What were these people thinking... the jokers who settled this place. Who was the asshole who saw this flat hot nothing and planted his flag? I mean we fucked the Indians for this?
BILL: Well, genocide always seems like such a good idea at the time.
BARBARA: Right, you need a little hindsight.
BILL: If you want me to explain the creepy character of the Midwest, you’re --
BARBARA: Please, the Midwest. This is the Plains: a state of mind, right? A spiritual affliction, like the Blues.

Last Day 2013 - Make it A Good Day

Every day counts, but lasts and firsts make us think about the passage of time more.
Every day we do small things that make us a little lighter inside.
For me it is a simple daily pleasure, my morning coffee in my kitchen, my quiet time. I don't rush it. I savour it and I know I am blessed to have it all - the kitchen, the good coffee grinds, the choice of a cup I like, the time - more than anything else - the time.
If I have companions for my little ritual I feel it's an extension of my privilege. It could be a cat, a child, a partner, a neighbour, a friend. Once in a blue moon, a sister - in the flesh or on skype from far far away. Every one of those is a welcome addition, never an interruption.
I wish you a year filled with the small things that make your own life a blessed life.

It's A White Christmas

Fluffy snow drifting down on our quiet city this morning. The house is quiet too.
It will be a busy day once I get started. I offered to cook an impromptu holiday dinner for friends who lost power in the ice storm and don't have it back yet, and can't host their traditional festive one. It won't be as grand, but the house will be warm and there will be food.
Such beautiful devastation.

Old Man Winter

Has arrived, no question about it.
The myth that it can't be cold when it snows - where does that come from? It's bitterly cold, hovering around the -20 c, my frozen fingers after a few minutes of snow shovelling are hard proof, and snowing relentlessly. Even the cats don't want to be out today.

Night Train To Lisbon

A plug in for a very good movie that did not get the recognition it deserved:
With the fabulous lead of Jeremy Irons, his voice as deep, enticing and soothing as it ever was, and a supporting cast that is the best of the best. The backdrop story is of the darkest times in Portugal's recent political and social history, of which I'm ashamed to say I was completely ignorant. The intricate web of love and hate that happens between friends and enemies, and what time does to both is what makes this movie deep and thoughtful.
Based on a novel which I intend to read, of the same name.


All thumbs up for this one.

The Hawk Lives

They took care of it until his eye healed and released him back to the wild last week.
Sometimes good things happen.

Birds of Prey in the City

A wounded specimen of this magnificent species - Northern Goshawk - landed, unintentionally I'm sure, on my doorstep this morning, and was taken to a wildlife rescue centre shortly after I called the city. I am grateful that we live in a city that cares enough, but the truth is this center operates solely on donations. If you can, call Toronto Wildlife Center and give them some money. They need every penny, and no amount is too small.

Hot Wheels - Watch this:

Nobel for Alice, Hurrah!

It gives me a little bit of hope to hear this morning of Alice Munro getting the Nobel prize. She well deserves it. After my great dismay in learning that evil Putin, a man who lives by the sword, is nominated for the Peace prize, the whole thing completely lost any credibility in my opinion. This restores a little bit of what is lost.
Here's a toast to the Great Alice, to Canadian Literature, and to all the people around the globe who live by their art. They make our lives richer.

A Song for Thursday: Michael Kiwanuka

Sweet voice this young man has:

Fashion Show on the Edge: Rick Owens

Now THIS is fashion to revel in. Watch all the way, it gets better and better and don't forget to look at the clothes.

Sherman Alexie - What a Fabulous Writer!

I'm reading a collection of short stories of this very good author, and the stories are indeed very short. Yet I find that occasionally I have to halt mid sentence and rest before I can move on to the next line, sometimes the power of his words is too much to bear. He is blunt and unflinching, looks into the lives of Native Americans and offers it to us so plainly it hurts.
It hurts not because we see the situations he writes about from above, or unrelated to other cultures as our circumstances are so very different; no, it hurst because on the basic level of human existence we all hope for the same things. Some of the people who populate his pages are damaged beyond repair, and some still have some hope. No matter where they are on their journey, he follows them around, and lets us have a peak.
Reading his stories is a humbling experience.


“I suddenly understood that if every moment of a book should be taken seriously, then every moment of a life should be taken seriously as well.” Sherman Alexie, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian.

“But none of them laughed as hard about my beautiful brain as I knew my father would have. I miss him, the drunk bastard. I would always feel closest to the man who had most disappointed me.” Sherman Alexie, War Dances.

JW Anderson - The Worst Designer of our Time?

I think so. His taste and style are simply terrible. I've blogged about his men in skirts before, and I feel his female designs are just as bad. Tasteless, shapeless things that are supposed to be witty but are just unbearably useless, completely unwearable.
See for yourselves, and make no mistake, these are men:




The women's designs are offensive to me on a similar level. Not because I'm a prude, but because they serve no purpose whatsoever - they are not beautiful, they are not pragmatic, they say nothing about the human form in all its glory. On the contrary, I think these clothes are mocking those who wear them, and that is the absolute worse thing a designer can do - to mock his customers.

House FUll of Flowers

How good to start a new year with a flower at every corner?




Wishes for the new year from around the table included fine words such as compassion, love, patience, peace of mind, clarity, music and art, togetherness, and of course, like every good pageant: World Peace.
Amen to all.