The Reader
I did it. I finally did it: I sat down today and finished a Kate Winslet movie. Not that I don’t like her; she’s undoubtedly a great actor. It’s just that when Kate Winslet comes to mind, I think “depression” and “drab” (no offense, Kate). But today, The Reader arrived in the mail and I was in need of something original.
And originality was exactly what I got. Surely, The Reader was no blockbuster hit, but if creativity and good screenwriting could easily translate into money, this movie would have raked it in. Kate clearly deserved the Oscar for her role as a lonely, middle-aged woman struggling with her obscurity and personal insecurities. She manages to make her involvement with a teenager a showcase of her vulnerability instead of her wrong, despite the almost pornographic nature of those intimate scenes.
Although Kate walked away with the Oscar, her costar, Danny Kross, gave her a good run for her money. In a very unconventional role opposite a respected actress, “the kid” held his own. Not many young actors these days can confess their love in a scene without breaking into a song and dance; Danny Kross can with just his eyes.
So, does Kate Winslet still bring up connotations of sinking ships and dying flowers? Yes. But the Reader was worth it, and a little rain every now and then never hurt anybody.
Bottom line: A captivating drama done well, but not for the weak at heart.
No More Paper Towels
The other day, I spilled some water all over my desk (I believe I was doing some extreme daydreaming and got myself super excited). I reached over to jot down a note and wham! Water all over.
I hurriedly grab a handful of paper towels and started to clean up my mess. I look up and what do I see? My two favorite flowers staring back at me from their position on the window sill. I don’t know whether I was particularly emotional that day or what, but I starting thinking: Plant, I am killing your relatives. I tear off another paper towel from the roll. There goes another one of them. And then I tore off another. Oh my God, I must stop!
As of that day, I decided to no longer use paper towels. I will use a washcloth, or my shirt, whichever is closest to me.
Talk about flower power. Go green.
Terminator Salvation
As a die-hard fan of Terminator 2: Judgment Day, I have not watched any of the other Terminator movies out of fear of seeing young John Connor grow up. (I wasn’t around for the first installment, but I was surely there for the second.) It was this movie alone that inspired me to dream big: I pined for my very own Arnold-like terminator body guard…and I still do.
Although Judgment Day was an action-packed movie, it had a lot of heart. I rooted for Arnold, especially against the creepy-looking T-1000 guy, and I rooted for him to use more of the average American catch phrases (which were the most memorable parts of the movie, some would say). Moreover, I cried whenever Edward Furlong’s pubescent character cried. Yes, this movie made me mad, happy, and sad all within 2 hours of it’s running time. So, I had to skip Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines—it was too soon. And now, in 2009, I felt it was time. It’s been almost 20 years since Judgement Day and I’m finally ready to believe in machines again.
In Terminator Salvation, we’re thrown into what seems like Armageddon. It’s the big battle between the humans and the machines. John Conner, as I dreadfully expected, is now all grown up and is leading the resistance against Skynet…and that’s pretty much it. Are there other layers to this story? No. Are there any great memorable quotes equivalent to “I’ll be back”? No. Does Arnold, the ultimate action hero from my childhood, make an appearance? Not really, unless you consider a highly graphically-enhanced, non-speaking Arnold, an appearance. Where was the dialogue? Where was the element of human virtue? Those were all replaced with Christian Bale’s flat portrayal of another heartless action hunk. They come a dime a dozen; nothing memorable about those guys.
I will never watch another Terminator movie ever again, unless Edward Furlong makes a comeback (and magically looks 20 years younger). But I won’t hold my breath.
Bottom line: A good 2-hour adrenaline rush—and nothing more.
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