Jackie Robinson, or The Meaning of Life the Universe and Everything

Despite the pretentious title, this blog post actually has nothing to do with baseball or The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. But the two things both tie in with the number 42, which is a component of this entry's content.

Several months ago, I decided that I should finally hunker down and start making an effort to watch all the movies on the American Film Institute's list of "the 100 greatest American movies of all time" (hereafter referred to by me simply as "AFI's Top 100"). In the past I would occasionally give the list a once over and see how many I had seen and how many more I had NOT seen, but it didn't get much further than that. Realizing that method meant I still had seen less than half of them (a dismal 38 in total), I made it a goal to start watching them in earnest and am now up to a whopping 42 in total. Hey, progress is progress, no matter how slow it is...

Since one of my problems with the list is that for some of the movies, I cannot recall if I actually did see them in their entirety or not, I also made a decision to write up a quick review of each movie after watching it and will be posting those here, probably in batches of three or four movie reviews at a time.

Without any further ado, here are my random thoughts on the first four movies I've intentionally watched just for being on AFI's Top 100 list. (FYI, there really is no order to the way I am watching the movies from the list; it's whatever happens to be accessible at the time.)

Easy Rider
(released 1969, #88 of 100)

What a start to this project; this movie was practically unwatchable. I know it has its fans, but I am certainly not one of them, nor was my friend who watched it with me. It's as if Kenneth Anger made Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas and then amped up the trippy factor by about a thousand.

This movie opens with dullest drug deal scene ever depicted (and that’s saying a lot) before two guys embark on a road trip across America for Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Along the way, they cross paths with some unusual characters from hippies to bigots to farmers. I would have loved to hear more about the women they encounter and their lives, but this is a "bro" sort of movie so that would never happen.

The movie starts out with some rather weird cinematography choices that only get weirder as the movie progresses (and as the characters get higher from all the cocaine and other drugs they are doing). All along the "plot" is slow moving, the dialogue is mostly rather poor and uninteresting, and there is literally zero character development. On top of that all, the ending is really bizarre to the point that my friend and I were both kind of like 'was that the end? what were they even trying to say with this movie???' This may have been the movie I did the most research on after watching it, because it was absolutely puzzling to me what its purpose was or why it was on AFI's Top 100 list. While I do enjoy when I read or watch something that has so many layers that a critical analysis might help me learn more, a film should stand up well enough on its own that you don't have to see what critics are saying in order to "get it." (And quite frankly, it still doesn't seem like there was much to "get.")

The handful of highlights were good music to fill the soundtrack while the guys ride along the highways and byways, which then of course included some nice shots of American landscapes (mostly deserts but also some small towns in Louisiana). The very earnest definition of the slang version of the word "dude" (I guess it was still new enough in 1969?) was humorous. And finally, the real star of the movie was a very young Jack Nicholson, who put in a stellar performance as the day-drunk ACLU lawyer, a role fittingly quirky enough for him. I have to agree with The New York Times critic whose review of the movie at its release noted, "Nicholson is so good, in fact, that 'Easy Rider' never quite recovers from his loss." I am resigned to the fact that I will never understand why this movie is on AFI's Top 100 list.


The Third Man
(released 1950, #57 of 100)

Thankfully, AFI's Top 100 list quickly redeemed itself with this selection. This is the kind of movie that I really enjoy -- an older noir film that immediately grabs you and is compelling from start to finish.

This movie takes place in Vienna after World War II, with the main character looking into the mystery of a friend's death, supposedly an accident but surrounded by a few pesky details that just don't add up -- including the rumor of a third man at the site of the accident but not listed in the official report. There is definitely a lot of intrigue, with every character having some piece of the mystery but refusing to reveal more.

The ambiance of the film throughout is wonderful. Filmed in black and white, it plays with lighting and shadows. There are long shots, unusual angles, and other cinematography reminiscent of Citizen Kane (not surprising, considering Orson Welles was associated with both projects). The dark lighting and unusual camera angles add to the sense of unease the film is trying to portray for its main character, especially when coupled with some dialogue in untranslated German (unless you happen to understand German, it further solidifies your sense of unknowing). There are several scenes of characters running around Vienna's cobblestone streets, complete with echoey footsteps, which further adds to the mysterious tone.

But the movie isn't all seriousness at all times. There are little jokes here and there, and throughout the movie, a jaunty jazzy tune plays its soundtrack. This fun instrumental music is all played on the zither, which is an unique choice that made a distinct impact. The storyline also has a romantic subplot underneath all the mystery and intrigue. Joseph Cotton as the protagonist put in an A+ performance. Alida Valli as Anna was also excellent as were some of the supporting cast (some others of the supporting cast were a little too campy, e.g., the fellow with the dog).

Overall, this was definitely an enjoyable film and I could see why it was on the list. (A fun side note -- there is actually a small curiosity museum in Vienna dedicated specifically to this film.) Those who like film noir mysteries and/or spy-type thrillers would probably enjoy this one.


The Apartment 
(released 1960, #93 of 100)

Like The Third Man, this movie is one I'm surprised I hadn't watched before actually, given it's up my alley of movies from the late 40s to early 60s. Once the opening credits showed Billy Wilder's name, I knew I was in for a treat; there’s a reason he was referred to as "the world's greatest movie director."

The Apartment has many similarities with Wilder's other movies, including elements such as:

• a voice-over introduction (but further narration is never heard),
• a New York City setting,
• a perfectly fitting instrumental soundtrack,
• snappy dialogue,
• black and white filming despite color being available,
• an overall comic tone but serious at turns, and
• issues like infidelity and suicide that can't exactly be shown on the screen (in 1960) but which are nevertheless artfully portrayed.

However, this movie has a rather different storyline from the other Wilder films I've seen in the past. A hard-working, ambitious accountant nicknamed Bud wants to succeed at his corporate life insurance job and therefore finds himself trying to curry favors with the higher-up suits. Unfortunately, the favor these men want the most from him is use of his apartment to carry on their extramarital trysts. Things only devolve further when the top boss finds out about this and wants to meet his mistress there -- a woman whom Bud has secretly had a crush on himself.

The late 50s/60s corporate culture highlighted in this film might make it of interest to fans of Mad Men, with similar explorations of gender, sex, power, and money, although with a far less serious tone. This movie has excellent performances from Jack Lemmon (indeed, he carries many scenes where it’s just him puttering around the apartment alone with no dialogue or only some mutterings to himself) as well as from Shirley MacLaine and Fred MacMurray. The happy ending feels a little tacked on / rushed, but otherwise this was an engaging watch. This wasn't my favorite movie of all time (it's not even my favorite Billy Wilder comedy; Sabrina tops that list, followed by Some Like It Hot) but it's a solid addition to AFI's Top 100 list.


Fargo 
(released 1996; #84 of 100)

This movie I went into expecting NOT to like, especially because I disliked the only other two Coen brothers' movies I had previously seen (The Big Lebowski and Intolerable Cruelty). While quirky movies hold a special place in my heart, the Coen brothers tend to operate in a zone of oddness that just isn't my cup of tea. However, this movie turned out to be weird in an acceptable sort of way for me.

The movie takes place in the dead of winter in Minnesota and North Dakota, where a car salesman with ambition pays a couple of criminals to kidnap his wife so that his wealthy father-in-law will pay the ransom. The trio assume no one will be the wiser and they will all walk away a little richer. But, of course, Murphy's law comes into play and things quickly escalate from bad to worse.

Despite the film's opening screen-cap claiming to be "based on true story," this is a work of fiction. But it is not outside the realm of possibility, which does give the film's absurdity a ring of truth. The actors in the movie -- from the leads to the supports -- are all excellent in their roles. The repartee between the two criminals, played by Steve Buscemi and Peter Stormare, is definitely a highlight of the film, along with Frances McDormand's award-winning performance as the police chief working to catch them. And, William H. Macy is almost *too* good as the slimy salesman, convincing me 100 percent to hate that character.

Despite the violence at the heart of the movie, it really isn't overly gory (especially in light of what's considered acceptable in film and television today). Also, McDormand's character is a refreshingly independent and strong woman, which had been missing in the other three films reviewed above. (The Third Man and The Apartment get points for at least featuring women more so than Easy Rider, but they're not exactly going to be held up as feminist standards. I'm not doing the statistical breakdown because that's more effort than I want to put into this project, but I wouldn't be surprised to see if a great number of the movies on AFI's Top 100 list are unable to pass the Bechdel Test.) Also, the one Asian character seen in the movie is surprisingly not just stereotype after stereotype, which is sadly saying a lot for 1996. (Unfortunately, the one American Indian character in the movie doesn't quite pass the same low bar. His character is way too much the strong, silent, proud 'native' stereotype -- his last name is even Proudfoot.)

That all being said, I cannot see this being a movie I would purposefully view again, nor do I have any interest in watching the new series of the same name. However, I do understand why it made the list, if for no other reason than that it's a movie that is often referenced in pop culture.

***

Well, that's all for now folks. Catch up with you again when I have a few more movie reviews to add.

Who Murdered Laura?

Recently I read The Feminist Press's re-issue of the mystery novel Laura by Vera Caspary. I greatly enjoyed reading the book, including the editor's afterword that discussed Caspary's life and successes. Among those successes was having her novels and screenplays adapted into Hollywood flicks, with Laura being notable on that list. I decided to track down the film version of the story and found that easy to do with it being right on Netflix for instant streaming.

Laura is the story of a young socialite who is murdered in her apartment late one night, just days before her upcoming wedding. In the wake of this event, her friends and acquaintances are shocked while her fiancé starts acting a bit suspicious. Added into the mix is a tough, street-smart detective who is determined to find Laura's murderer and won't be belittled by her society crowd. He soon finds himself obsessed with the dead woman.

The afterword of the novel primed me for the possibility of significant changes between the book and the film by noting that Caspary was appreciative of some of the changes made by Otto Preminger, the film's director, and critical of others -- to the point of getting in a shouting match with Preminger at a restaurant. With that being said though, the changes were actually not hugely dramatic in the end. Those changes include:

• The viewer gets to see a glimpse of what Laura's life was like with the party scene that was absent in the book but added to the movie. This is undoubtedly a bonus.
• There is a significant change in the murder weapon from novel to film, which Caspary apparently objected to greatly and lost that battle. The symbolism therefore changes, but in the end, I don't think this was a huge detractor to the story being told.
• Lydecker is vividly described in the book as an overweight man with a van Dyck beard and a walking cane (which is most likely just an affectation). This person is transformed into a svelte, mustachioed gentleman. Classic Hollywood for you -- everyone has to be pretty, even if they are specifically described as otherwise.

Why?? At least keep the van Dyck beard, if nothing else...

• Lydecker has a radio program rather than a column. This is quite fitting with the audio-visual medium and is thus a logical change. It also makes for a very haunting scene towards the end when we hear Lydecker's spoken essay on love voiced over a very dramatic moment.
• Laura's aunt is less of an invalid and more of a fiancé snatcher. She seriously throws herself at Shelby way too much; it's rather disturbing how blithe she is about telling her niece that she's no good for her own fiancé who would be better off with her instead. (Side note: How strange is it to think of Vincent Price as "leading man" material instead of the king of horror??)

Unexpected but ultimately believable --

Vincent Price as old money, handsome "keeper" Shelby

The biggest change, which is the hardest to exactly point how or why it's different, is in the character of Laura herself. She seems like more a damsel in distress or naïve ingénue than the driven and successful career woman of the novel. Again, it's hard to place a finger on exactly what's wrong or different, but there's a je ne sais quoi about Gene Tierney's performance as the titular character that is just off a little. A reviewer for The New York Times back in 1944 says it best:

"Yes, you get the idea that this Laura must have been something truly wonderful. Now, at the risk of being unchivalrous, we venture to say that when the lady herself appears upon the scene via a flashback of events leading up to the tragedy, she is a disappointment. For Gene Tierney simply doesn't measure up to the word-portrait of her character. Pretty, indeed, but hardly the type of girl we had expected to meet. For Miss Tierney plays at being a brilliant and sophisticated advertising executive with the wild-eyed innocence of a college junior." (emphasis mine)

All in all, this is a solid adaptation of the novel that gets the basic story right and has a fantastic noir look to all its scenes, including the ominous black-and-white shadows present in numerous moments. Indeed, all of the lighting works to create beautiful effects. In addition, the moody atmospheric music seals the noir feel, even the romantic titular song written by Johnny Mercer for the movie. But unfortunately the characters are just a *little* wrong, which detracted somewhat from the viewing after readering the book. I'd recommend the novel over the film, unless you're the type who prefers movie watching to book reading. However, it's worth pointing out that, as always, this is just my opinion -- the novel has faded in to relative obscurity while the movie has been put on numerous "best of" lists and important histories of film.

Foodie Movies Redux

As I’ve mentioned on this blog, several months ago a friend and I had a food-themed movie night. We ambitiously culled a long list of food-related movies, of which we only managed to watch a handful. Since that night, I’ve been able to add a handful more of these movies to my already-watched list. Now checked off the list, so to speak, are Tortilla Soup, Nina’s Heavenly Delights, Eat Pray Love, Mildred Pierce, and Julie & Julia. (These are listed not alphabetically, as I am usually wont to do, but in the order in which I viewed them.) Below are some of my thoughts about these movies; feel free to join the conversation by adding to the comments section!

Tortilla Soup

Note: This is the Mexican-American version of the earlier, Ang Lee-directed movie, Eat Drink Man Woman.

Restaurant owner and chef Martin (Hector Elizondo) is a widower with three grown daughters who live with him. Leticia (Elizabeth Pena), the oldest, is an uber-religious chemistry teacher who fills almost every stereotype of the spinster schoolmarm, right down to her rigid buttoned-up attire. Carmen (Jacqueline Obradors) is a successful businesswoman who is less successful at personal relationships and who secretly (or perhaps not so secretly at times) wishes her father would let her become a chef like him - only that instead of being a purist like him, she likes to make “mutt” creations that blend the culinary tastes of several cultures. Maribel (Tamara Mello), the youngest, has a carefree spirit but the sense that she is constantly ignored by her family and sometimes even by herself. Their elaborate family dinners are sometimes attended by the girls’ love interests and by family friend Yolanda, a newly divorced single mother, and Yolanda’s family - daughter April and mother Hortensia.

I went into this movie expecting a good performance from Hector Elizondo, whose character of Dr. Bell on Monk was top-notch, and was not disappointed. Indeed, all the cast excelled at really inhabiting their roles fully and making me feel like these were real people. Raquel Welch as Hortensia was a wonderfully funny character, in line with a character you’d expect to see out of Dickens or Austen, with an over-the-top performance as a woman ridiculously bent on trying to snag Martin as a husband but unawares that she is not in the least bit subtle in doing so. And, for the Veronica Mars fans out there, look out for a small role played by Ken Marino aka “Vinnie Van Lowe.”

The movie is rife with funny moments as well as touching ones, and I’d bet money that you won’t find at least one of Martin’s (and Carmen’s) many elaborate dishes mouth-watering. There’s a little something for everyone between the comedy, the family drama, the romance, etc. Without giving away too many spoilers, I was personally happy that the ending was one of those ones where not everything is tied up neatly in a bow but you’re also not left scratching your head wondering what on earth that bizarre open-ended conclusion meant. And likewise, I was happy to see that not every woman’s happy ending saw her happily married off. Overall, I was very pleased with this movie and would recommend it.

Nina’s Heavenly Delights

After her father’s sudden death, Nina (Shelley Conn) returns to her Indian-Scottish family in their home city of Glasgow after three years spent in London where she ran to when her parents tried to arrange her marriage to Sanjay (Raji James). She has hardly any time to grieve before she learns that her father used his beloved restaurant, the New Taj, as collateral in a gambling bet and now half the restaurant belongs to Lisa (Laura Fraser), her younger brother Kary’s girlfriend. Lisa and Kary are ready to sell the restaurant to an eager buyer - Raj, the owner of a competing restaurant and father of Sanjay. But Nina also discovers that her father entered the restaurant into a prestigious televised cooking competition and made it into the final round. She manages to convince Lisa to hold off selling the restaurant until after they make a go for the trophy. As Nina teaches everything her father taught her about cooking to Lisa, she finds herself falling head over heels for Lisa.

I was a little hesitant about this movie because it was labeled a “romance;” I’m not the hugest fan of romances as a genre - either in literature or movies - although there are notable exceptions. Mostly, I think I can like a romance if there’s more to it than just the romance - for instance, a historical backdrop or witty characters. With Nina’s Heavenly Delights, there is certainly more to the story. There’s the very nature of love, death and grief, the pull of family obligations versus the need to be one’s self, and, of course, cooking itself. I felt as though the movie were more about family and the competition, with a side of meaningful glances between Nina and Lisa to remind you that, oh yeah, this is movie about these two falling in love.

Overall, I was really engaged with this movie and rooting for the New Taj to succeed in the competition. The scenes of Glasgow (and the Scottish accents) were an added bonus. For the most part, the filming of the cooking and food scenes was top-notch. There was even a vibe of sexual tension between two women via working in the kitchen in Nina’s first lesson to Lisa about mixing spices - “it’s all about the chemistry, and the chemistry has to be right.” It’s not quite the food fighting scene in Fried Green Tomatoes, but you clearly get the point - one that Lisa makes earlier “The couple that cooks together stays together.” However, there was one scene of cooking where for some reason the director decided to add an overlay of words labeling the ingredients in the dish. It was only done this one time, which I think added to the oddness of doing so. A much more elegant scene was one where the shots of food bubbling were interspersed with shots of pages turning in Nina’s cookbook of award-winning recipes, handed down from her father.

Nina’s drag friend, Bobbi, was a little too over the top for me, although I must acknowledge that he made a good foil to Nina in that he clearly wasn’t hiding his sexuality. Still, I would have been okay with fewer scenes of him and his “chutney queens.” On the other hand, Auntie Mamie was a delightful minor character who I would have liked to see more of as she added humor to every scene she was in, no matter how briefly.

As I already mentioned, I liked this movie overall, but it did feel like it could have been a little longer and more fleshed out. There was some aspects (i.e., the decisions made by Nina’s brother Kary) that could have used a little more explanation. There also needed to be more time for growth in some of the characters so that their actions seemed more realistic and less scripted. For instance, I have a hard time believing that Nina’s mother, who three years earlier was so traditional as to arrange a marriage for her daughter, is suddenly so accepting of her children’s decisions to be so modern and Scottish. I also couldn’t see Lisa putting Nina to the test at such a crucial moment. While I enjoyed the movie and would recommend it, it didn’t feel “real” like Tortilla Soup.

Eat Pray Love

Based on the best-selling memoir by Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love tells Liz’s story as she copes with her messy divorce by taking a year off to visit Italy, India, and Indonesia. I enjoyed the book when I read it several years ago but didn’t really have any interest in the movie as I didn’t feel like it was the kind of the book that would transfer well to the screen. Essentially the story is about Liz and her transformation and it isn’t exactly plot heavy, so nothing about that screams Hollywood. But I ended up receiving the DVD as a present from someone who knew I liked the book, so I gave it a shot.

Besides the feeling that this wasn’t a story to be told cinematically, this movie had one other huge handicap against its favor: Julia Roberts. I don’t care that she’s an awarding-winner actor, I can’t stand her in general and specifically in this role. For starters, she’s just wrong for the part physically - she was a tad too old for the role but, even more so, she’s too stick thin for anyone to legitimately believe a) her having a “muffin top” from eating too much in Italy and b) Felipe saying she is the perfect kind of woman who looks thin from a distance but has something to hold on to up close. But even if I could overlook that she doesn’t physically fit the part, I’ve never seen her in a movie where she convinces me for more than a minute that she’s anyone other than Julia Roberts. She doesn’t ever inhabit her roles and her characters all come across as behaving the same way. Tackling Liz is even harder because she’s not a character; she’s a real and complex person, and a person who has shared intimate details about herself to the world through her book. And Julia Roberts did not deliver. To be honest, it wasn’t just her either; despite some other big names in this movie, no one stood out as acting particularly splendidly, excepting the actor who played Balinese medicine man Ketut, who I just loved, and the actor playing Tulsi, the young Indian girl Liz befriends who is forced into an arranged marriage against her wishes. A minor pet peeve, but it was annoying to find that Richard from Texas didn’t have a Texan accent nor did Sofi from Sweden have a Swedish accent. Come on, people, at least *try* to convince me that you’re the person you’re pretending to be.

Like I said earlier, the book isn’t full of plot devices but mostly Liz’s internal struggles, so this makes it a hard movie to make. So much had to be specifically narrated (an okay technique when needed, but if half your movie needs to be narrated, maybe you should left well enough alone with the book) or conveyed through expressions and looks (which Julia Roberts always seemed to get wrong; she was smiling broadly when she shouldn’t be happy and looking apprehensive when she should be happy, she barely reacted at all throughout Richard’s long and moving history, and she’s apparently incapable of making it through a movie without pitching a screaming fit). The movie also invented a character played by Viola Davis who represented *all* of Gilbert’s family, friends, and co-workers back home and functioned as a sounding-board and “straight man” (if you parody the borrowing of terms for comedies used here for dramas) that Liz could talk about some of her emotions without constantly narrating.

However, the movie was very good for showing us the beautiful scenes of the places Gilbert visited. If there were anything missing from the book, it would be actually seeing the places Liz writes about with such passion. The movie helps you feel like you’ve actually traveled to these places and seen the ruins in Rome, driven through the crowded streets of India, and inhaled the tropical sea breezes in Bali.

A few more pet peeves arose as I watched the movie: it’s been a while since I’ve read the book, so perhaps someone can correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t recall Gilbert being randomly approached by an elephant in India, Felipe and Liz meeting because he ran her off the road, Felipe’s son coming to visit them in Bali, or, most importantly because the movie makes it a huge dramatic point, Felipe and Liz breaking up right before she’s meant to leave for home.

Let’s just hope Hollywood doesn’t try to take on Eliizabeth Gilbert’s sequel, Committed.

Mildred Pierce

Mildred Pierce (Joan Crawford) is a mother who will do anything for daughters. But eldest daughter Veda (Ann Blyth) is a spoiled brat who always wants more. To have some extra money to buy Veda more and better items, Mildred goes from making cakes and pies for the neighbors, to becoming a waitress and working round the clock, to buying a restaurant, to expanding that to a chain of restaurants. Still, Veda is never happy and wants more money always. To add a bit of mystery to this story of mother-daughter struggle is the fact that is being told in flashbacks as Mildred is held at the police station after being suspected of murder.

This framing device used to tell the story allows the movie start with a shocking murder, but there’s plenty of twists and turns along the way so the viewer isn’t in the know all along. This is film noir/melodrama at its finest – it could easily become ridiculously at any point but does not. I think it part because the whole production holds on to the idea that, despite all its plot points, this is first and foremost a story about these people and what they are like at their cores. Therefore, it is a great character study. To say that Joan Crawford’s acting was excellent would be an understatement as she won an Oscar for this performance and is legendary for this role. Still, it’s worth saying that she is phenomenal as Mildred Pierce and her supporting cast does not disappoint either.

However, that being said, I’m not the hugest fan of Butterfly McQueen as Lottie, Mildred’s maid. While I can’t exactly place my finger on a specific why, something about her whole character feels borderline racist - perhaps it’s just because her character is so silly when everyone else is so serious. (Of course, the character of Ida also provides comic relief, albeit she does it by having sarcastic zingers, rather than just acting like an airhead.) At any rate, McQueen’s squeaky high-pitched voice irritates me in Gone with the Wind and it’s not any better here. That may sound petty, but her voice really does grate on my ears unpleasantly.

As I mentioned earlier, this movie is very much in the film noir style with flashbacks, voiceovers, a femme fatale (of a different sort), and moody black and white filming. Also, there are some fun cinematic shots with the use of mirrors. Overall, it’s visually appealing as well as providing an engaging storyline.

It’s worth noting in a post on food-related movies though that this is one of those movies only tangentially related to food. Unlike in Tortilla Soup where mouth-watering dishes are presented as feasts for the eyes (and temptations for the stomachs), we don’t see much of the food here. However, the movie does have some good lines about its preparation. For instance, in voiceovers Mildred explains, “I felt as though I had been born in a kitchen and lived there all my life, except for the few hours it took to get married.” She later continues this narrative with, “In six weeks, I felt like I'd worked in a restaurant all my life. In three months, I was one of the best waitresses there. I took tips and was glad to get them. And at home I baked pies for the restaurant.” Or there’s this exchange:

Mildred Pierce: “You look down on me because I work for a living, don't you? You always have. All right, I work. I cook food and sell it and make a profit on it, which, I might point out, you're not too proud to share with me.”
Monte Beragon: “Yes, I take money from you, Mildred. But not enough to make me like kitchens or cooks. They smell of grease.”
Mildred Pierce: “I don't notice you shrinking away from a fifty- dollar bill because it smells of grease.”

Interestingly, after watching the original, I found out that there was an HBO miniseries re-make with Kate Winslet, but from the trailer it looks like all they did was sex it up so I’m not sure that I would check it out.

Julie & Julia

This movie promotes itself as having been “based on two true stories” and thus tells dual side-by-side stories of women living in different eras and places. We start with Julia Child (Meryl Streep) in 1949, having just moved to Paris with her husband and trying to find something to do with her spare time. She finally settles on cooking, managing to enroll herself in an all-male professional class at Le Cordon Bleu. From there she moves on to teaching French cooking and writing a cookbook. Meanwhile, in 2002, Julie Powell (Amy Adams) is a tired New Yorker who is emotionally drained by the time she comes home from her job dealing with the aftermath of 9/11. Her tension release at the end of the day is cooking (one stress coping mechanism that she and I apparently share!) and over time she and her husband land upon the idea that she should write a blog in which she attempts to cook all 524 recipes in Julia Child’s seminal cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, in 365 days.

I have to note from the outset that I did not know very much about Julia Child (and nothing about Julie Powell other than that she had this quest to cook all of Child’s recipes) going into the movie, so I really can’t say if it was historically accurate or not, but it was certainly an engaging movie.

It certainly was an interesting concept to show these two stories, based on books written by each woman, side by side. The two women certainly share some similarities and some ups and downs, and somehow the movie pulls off jumping between two time periods, two continents, and two characters (and their supporting casts) without seeming choppy. An interesting thing I liked about each story was that while the stories were ultimately about the women, both had very supportive husbands who helped them to find their place and succeed at it. While this movie, like any other Nora Ephron movie, will inevitably be seen as a “chick flick” at worst or “women’s movie” at best, I feel like it hits the perfect note of gender equality by portraying stories in which neither men nor women are objectified, demonized, or cast to the sidelines.

All around, the movie is filled with excellent acting, although I have to admit I am a bit puzzled by Amy Adams’ accent (or lack thereof, to my ears at least).Iif her mother is from Texas (and heard over the phone with a drawl) and Julie lives in New York, wouldn’t she have at least one of those accents or some sort of mix of both? It’s a small thing, but Meryl Streep so completely changed her vocal patterns to become more like Julia Child that it stood out to me that I didn’t hear that as much in Amy Adams as Julie Powell. Both women, however, did change their appearances a lot to fit their roles.

While food is certainly a large part of this movie, I don’t feel that it was as much in the centerpiece of filming as in some of these other foodie movies like again, Tortilla Soup. Also noting my own preferences for more grains and vegetables than meats (especially red meat), the particular dishes that were shown did not exactly shout drool-worthiness to me, even though I’ve been a huge fan of every recipe I’ve tried from my own French cookbook (and pretty much everything I’ve eaten while in France). The scenes of Paris, however, do make me long to visit that city again....

The only downside to Julie & Julia was the ending. Without giving away any spoilers, I wasn’t 100 percent in love with the movie’s conclusion although I’m not quite sure why. I think I would have liked to see a *little* bit more of both Julia’s and Julie’s successes.

To sum up this lengthy post (if you’re still with me here), if I were a film critic apt to give grades to movies, Tortilla Soup would get an A, Nina’s Heavenly Delights a B, Eat Pray Love a C-, Mildred Pierce an A+, and Julie & Julia an A.