Free.

Today, my daughter, son, a friend, her daughter and I went to the dollar movie to see Pitch Perfect.  Somehow, I had missed seeing this movie which is entirely up my street, with a cappella choirs singing competitively. It was shot partially at LSU, where my daughter is studying, so she actually saw some of the action, including running into the ultra-tiny Anna Kendrick on campus.

Anyway, I enjoyed the movie so, so much. My son, the soccer coach, gave it an 8 out of 10, which seems about right, but my enjoyment was pretty much maximum. It was funny, which was a bonus, but the singing and the music were just wonderful. So that was a good way to spend the afternoon, we all agreed.

We drove home to find the historian having spent a satisfying afternoon reading, napping, and taking the dog for a walk, all in the blessed, blessed calm of a house where almost everyone but himself was gone. He and I had a date planned--we were going to get Mexican food and then go to the Tower, where they were showing City Lights. This seemed both delightful and also virtuous, City Lights being a film I had never seen before, a venerable film, part of the history of film, and entirely worthy.

But as we were talking at dinner about all sorts of things, including Pitch Perfect, I said, "I would see it again in a heartbeat."

"Maybe we should do that," he suggested.

I paused. If the pause had been shot in slow motion, it would have been a really really really really long pause, my fork suspended between my enchilada and my mouth, my mind filled with the history of my relationship with the historian, with the many, many moments when he said or did something sweet that he knew might make me happy. The pause would also have included the full extent of the ethical dilemma: should I see a film that would fill in a gap in my knowledge, and thus take the dutiful path of obligation and seriousness? should I instead see a film that was, in all honesty, sort of a throwaway, and for a second time? in the same day? and would the historian enjoy it? and would I be selfish if I said yes? well, would I?

So I said, "Really? Wouldn't you prefer to see City Lights?" ( . . . and all that choosing that film implies, I thought, fleetingly.)

"Not necessarily," he said. He looked like he meant it too.

So that's what we did. And the people, I did enjoy Perfect Pitch for a second time on the same day, and very much indeed.

After we got home from walking the dog, running son (on crutches--the running is existential, not actual, at least not at the moment) was upstairs, rummaging in the refrigerator. "How was City Lights?" he asked.

I told him what we had done. "On the same day?" he said, shaking his head. (Literally: he shook his head at me.) "Did you enjoy it, John?"

"I did," said the historian. He sounded like he meant it.

"Seeing a movie twice in one day makes you feel free," I said to the historian, putting on my robe. "Because you just do it because you want to, and you don't feel like you should go see this or that film, just because you haven't seen it yet."

Yep, the people: these are the lengths we go to around here--and by "we" I mean "me"--not to let things be the boss of us. Like Charlie Chaplin. Or movies we haven't seen. (But for real, I did love Pitch Perfect:)

My personal cinematic history: Pitch Perfect.

First of all, stop judging me.

Second, I am personally a sucker for movie in which there is (a) singing [viz: The Sound of Music], especially (b) ensemble singing [viz: "So Long, Farewell" from The Sound of Music], and (c) plucky heroines, especially if they sing [viz: Mary Poppins].

I saw Pitch Perfect after it had come to the dollar theater. That's because I was a little Oh, I don't know about the movie when it hit the more-than-a-dollar theaters, because the reviews were meh and maybe no one in this house was too fired up to see it [viz: the historian]. I figured I'd catch it one way or another, probably later on television. But my daughter was in town, on break from LSU, where they actually filmed a great chunk of the movie. Honestly, I can't quite remember how the decision got made. But my daughter, my son, my friend, and her daughter ended up in the dark with popcorn--I'm sure there was popcorn--and we watched it with great pleasure, so much pleasure.

Later that night, over enchiladas, the historian and I were talking over our movie options and somehow, we ended up seeing the plucky singing girls competing to win it all! at Nationals! again. Again, on the very same day. I love movies--I'm saying l o v e--and there aren't very many movies that I've seen twice in the same day (viz: The Last Waltz, Cabaret, The Way We Were). I also will not fully confess how many times since that I've re-viewed Pitch Perfect, except to say...quite a few.

Why does this movie so do it for me? There are many passages that are really only passable, if that. I don't know if you can even quite call this movie-making, even, except that someone thought of it and scripted it, and out of a pastiche of charm and some excellent character acting--well, pretty good character acting--and wonderful if only that were a real thing singing and dancing, and one of the most successful impressions of improvisation of all time--out of all that came a movie that is as consumable and, to me, addictive as a delicious snack. Viz: popcorn.

I said to my musician son, I wish the riff-off could be real.

He said, I know. That's how it is in movies: they make something that would only be possible with wizardry and a ton of practice seem effortless, improvised, and in the moment. Like this:


Pitch Perfect - Riff Off by class_freak

One might say the pleasure of watching this film was in excess of its merits, except why? Why say it? Who can count the merits of this:


(oh, how adorable are they? Skylar Astin with his jacket quite literally kills me, every time.)  Or this, which I have not reached the end of enjoying myself with:

 

I was talking with my friend Ron the other day about the movies you can't really defend that you will nonetheless watch again and again. I've written about this before, the great pleasure of the re-view. There are some movies that have become ingrained in my family's history, so much so that they are almost as much our story as things that actually happened to us. This movie I shared with others, but I will watch it happily alone while I'm doing other things, pausing to give it my full attention at pretty much every musical piece. It still lifts my spirits, it still makes me smile. Tonight, when I was doing leg presses at the gym, the Barden Bellas' final medley came on my shuffle. I listened to it twice.

Plans big & small.

Today I did a little laundry and did a few dishes and ate a burrito but also some salad, made the second pitcher of iced tea of the summer (Moroccan mint), thought a little or a lot about Morocco. Bought a pair of red shoes. Worked out, added notes to my poem-storm, admired my garden.

My friend Ann came over this morning--we had a plan to watch Pitch Perfect, which she had not seen (!), and which, in my opinion, was necessary preparation for watching Pitch Perfect 2. Which we plan to do sometimes soon. She brought doughnuts from Fresh Donut & Deli (the best!). What a pleasure, to laugh with her as we watched a movie that has given me so much pleasure. She also brought her own cold Dr. Pepper, because she is always prepared.

Later, I wrote to my oldest friend Mary, who will be coming to visit me next week. We've planned a little road trip down south and east, to Hovenweep and beyond. We're both bringing our cameras. We will see all of these things, whatever they are, for the first time with each other. It will be an adventure and a pilgrimage and the hours we will spend together--necessary, crucial, for both of us.

I've been thinking and feeling the great blessing of these friends--truly, of all my friends. How glad it makes me to see them, how restored to myself, how much richer my life feels because of them. How much more open the world seems because of them, because I unlock the hoard of time I keep by instinct, and because I spend that hoarded time at least a little more freely. I need that time, the time I keep, for quiet, for writing, for solitude; but I also recognize that this can become a kind of fetish, a dogma. Better to be heterodox. Better to both keep and spend.

Tomorrow I will continue to go through the first edits of my book (my book!). I will write the biographical statement that will actually go in my book. I'll meet with another friend for a project at work. I'll work out. I have plans to see another friend mid-June, and I need to find a time to have dinner with several other friends. This list, even writing it, can raise a small atmosphere of panic. But one thing at a time. The days have room for solitude and for friendship, for quiet and for conversation. For Pitch Perfect and for Francis Bacon, and a little iced Moroccan mint tea, just to keep things cool.

Movies of the year, 2015.

The time has come for a roundup of movies I saw this year, and what I thought of them. I know, your excitement can barely be contained.

I use this idiosyncratic rating system:

* a movie I quite enjoyed, or thought was worthy. A * does not mean it was a bad movie. In fact, no asterisks whatsoever may not mean that I didn't enjoy the movie, only that it wasn't one of the special, most memorable movies for me.

** a movie I thought was very good.

*** a movie I thought was one of the best of the year.

Okay! that out of the way, let us recount our cinematic experiences and wax reviewerish:

Paddington: I viewed this with a grandson and his dad (my son) and the historian. On our bed. On Netflix. We all enjoyed it quite a bit. An adorable animatronic bear, and Ben Whishaw was his voice. All to the good.

Kingsman: The Secret Service: I won't say that I didn't enjoy this. I saw it with my son purely for entertainment value. We had fun. Too much mayhem and gunplay, however, for my taste. I enjoyed but I did not approve of my own enjoyment.

What we do in the shadows *: Well, on the other hand, there was plenty of vampirish blood and biting galore in this movie. I totally enjoyed it and I approved of my enjoyment. I guess I have a vampire double standard. Well, a comic vampire double standard. All involved were excellent.

McFarland, U.S.A. *: There is no good reason that this movie should get even one star, but it does, because it had the decency to note that for some kids, the fact that the high school was quite literally next door to the prison is more than a trope, and its runners make a good story that was damned inspiring. Also, I love running movies and Kevin Costner in sports movies and sports movies in general. I.e., your mileage--ha ha!--may vary.

Maps to the Stars *: Cronenberg, very acidic. Mia Wasikowska shows her uncanny ability to make you very uncomfortable. Julianne Moore plays a terrifyingly narcissistic actress. Robert Pattinson is ambitious, young, appalling. John Cusack plays a life coach with a chilling secret in his own past. All of these characters buzz around Hollywood. I wasn't compelled, exactly, by this--I liked, actually, Cronenberg's Cosmopolis more--but it was really well made, at times thrillingly so.

Cinderella: Ho hum, beautiful blue dress.

Kumiko Treasure Hunter *: I kind of find myself treasuring the oddball and truly weird, movie-wise. This film falls into that category, hardcore. A young Japanese woman acquires a VHS copy of Fargo, decides that she should go there and find the money that dumb, venal Steve Buscemi buries in the snow, then dies (horribly) before he can retrieve it. The young woman is played by Rinko Kikuchi, and she is, as always, fantastic and indelible. This is not a happy movie, but it is highly original, and thus, I recommend it.

Home: Rihanna as the young protagonist, trying to find her mom. Jim Parsons as the alien who accompanies her. Hijinks, etc. We saw this with grandsons and what can I say? we had a fine time. 

While We’re Young **: This was one of my favorites of the year. Ben Stiller and Naomi Watts as a married couple--he's a documentarian who is stuck on a years-long, acres of footage project; her dad is a famous and decorated documentarian. They meet a young couple, Amanda Seyfried and the feckless, winning, cunning, devious Adam Driver (I heart him so hard). The two couples, in essence, become infatuated with each other, and everyone's life changes. This was beautiful and witty and fluid and aching. So good.

The Clouds of Sils Maria **: A beauty. A French actress (Juliette Binoche) is going to appear in a restaging of a play that made her famous when she was young, but this time she's not playing the ingenue--she's playing the older woman who's made a fool by the ingenue (who's going to be played by Chloe Grace Moretz). Her assistant, a terrific and very sharp Kristen Stewart, helps her read lines, etcetera. This is a wonderful movie that is so smart and beautiful it's hard to describe. Directed by Olivier Assayas.

Ex Machina *: My friend said, I don't think I need to see an Asian sex-bot, when I said how good I thought this movie was. And I was all, there's no...oh, wait. But I think I would argue that this cyborg, one of a whole bunch of cyborgs, is a function of the mad scientist's warped imagination, and thus (maybe) legitimate (?) in the film. Be warned. I found this movie to be smart and unsettling and super-engaging. And there's an amazing dance sequence in it, and it stars Oscar Isaac, who makes any film, just about, at this point an almost inarguable gotta-see recommendation for me. Plus an Asian cyborg/sexbot.  

Welcome to Me **: At his point, I think Kristen Wiig is maybe a genius. This movie is strange, funny, and sad. Wiig plays a woman who's mentally ill, who wins the lottery and decides to self-fund the production of a television show featuring herself as the subject. She reenacts scenes from her own past as a form of retribution for those who have wronged her, spending the lottery winnings at a frightening speed. The film has a heart, but it's not entirely predictable, and it felt almost entirely unique. 

Hot Pursuit: How I wished for this movie to be better than it was--Reese Witherspoon and Sofia Vergara, Witherspoon as a by-the-books cop, Vergara as the widow of a drug boss. Bad cops and other bad guys chase them. Etcetera. I'm sure I laughed, and probably a lot. But that's because I'm easy. I own that. Luckily, I saw it with my aunt Sal, and we had a good time.

The Salt of the Earth **: Wim Wenders' documentary about Sebastiao Salgado, also directed by Juliano Ribeiro Salgado. A fairly comprehensive look at the work of Salgado pere, with many insights peeking around the edges of what it would have been like to be connected to this brilliant and peripatetic man. His wife, Lelia, seems to me to be a fantastic person. The restoration they are currently doing of his family's farm in Brazil, which has turned into the Instituto Terra, was one of the most beautiful parts. I really loved this film. 

I’ll See You In My Dreams *: lovely. Blythe Danner plays a widow who's at something of loose ends, who meets a guy (Sam Elliott) and sings a song at karaoke and makes a friendship with another, younger guy (her pool guy, Martin Starr). It's a small film, but it is, in its way, beautiful, and Danner has what it takes to make you wish she were at the center of many more films.

Pitch Perfect 2: Not as good as Pitch Perfect 1. Readers of this blog know that I have seen Pitch Perfect 1 approximately a billion times, but I see no need to re-see Pitch Perfect 2. Except for all the scenes with Keegan-Michael Key as the entrepreneur who is running the record company where Beca is interning. Okay, I might need to see it again. No stars, though.

Tomorrowland: I enjoyed this movie, although I can hardly tell you what it was actually about. George Clooney was in it, playing a jaded and maybe secretly sad former boy inventor who is now a recluse. And also Hugh Laurie. A young girl comes to find him and they go to Tomorrowland, where they try to right wrongs and make the world better, I think. Anyway. I can't exactly recommend this. But if I had kids who were, like, eight or older, I might rent it and have a lot of fun.

Aloha: Everyone hated this. I can see why. I remember reading a critical conversation in which the several critics were clearly have a lot of fun remembering what they saw as the most egregious parts. Yes, sure, definitely. I saw this film in a theater by myself--literally--one summer afternoon. I so enjoyed it, and I cannot say exactly why, but all the acting was fantastic, including a great Bill Murray part, and also an almost mesmerizing Bradley Cooper, Rachel MacAdams whom I always adore, Alec Baldwin playing a general in a perfect performance, etcetera. Not good, I know. I still don't think it was as bad as the people who savaged it said. (see: I'm easy.)

Love and Mercy ***: One of the most lovely, heartbreaking films I saw this year. The score of this film is one of the most wonderful parts--the way it picked up and wove together motifs from Wilson's music. Both Paul Dano and John Cusack were splendid, and Elizabeth Banks was wonderful, and Paul Giamatti as Eugene Landy, Wilson's terrible therapist, was horrifying and perfect. So good.

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl **: I laughed, cried, admired this movie--some of the best stuff included the film parodies that Greg, the protagonist, and Earl, his friend, make (The 400 Bros; Senior Citizen Kane; My Dinner with Andre the Giant). But mostly it felt heartfelt, and moving, as a young person learns how to be a better person, and I appreciated it for its wit and its heart.

The Wolfpack *: One of the handful of documentaries we saw this year, this one is about the group of brothers who were, essentially, quarantined from the outside world in an apartment in New York by their monomaniacal father. They were, however, allowed to watch and then reenact films of all sorts. A filmmaker happened to run into them when they had finally defied their father and begun going out, and she received permission to make the film. Amazing, disturbing, and also hopeful.

Inside/Out **: I felt lucky to see this with my grandchildren--so wonderful, original, smart, moving. As a poet, I appreciated that sadness ultimately had a role to play, something I have been arguing (to myself, mostly) all along. 

Dope **: This was great. Saw it during the summer. It's a buddy movie, where the kids (one of whom also played the Lobby Boy in Grand Budapest Hotel!) accidentally end up with a drug dealer's stash, and have to figure out how to get rid of it without getting beaten up by the various parties who want it. The kids are all excellent. Great 90s hip hop music.

Eden **: Another movie I saw in the summer time. I loved the story of the main character's desire to keep making music, even as the life of DJ-ing took its toll. The electronic music gave the film an energy, and there was beautiful, original, entrancing filmwork throughout. One of my favorites of the year.

A Little Chaos: I wanted to love this. Alan Rickman as the French king Louis XIV who wants original, gorgeous gardens for Versailles, and Matthieu Schoenaerts as the head gardener, with Kate Winslet as a free-spirited gardener contracted to work on a particular section. Sadly a little blah blah blah, even though gorgeous persons such as Schoenaerts and Winslet should have been compelling enough, especially naked. But no.

A Poem is a Naked Person *: Rather thrilling to see this, featuring the weirdest--truly!--filmwork by Les Blank, but masses of live music from Leon Russell, whom I adored from my youth. Blank and Russell fell out over the film, so it was never shown until after Blank's death, i.e., now. 

Amy **: Although I found this film almost unbearably sad, I was so glad to get to see it for the sake of hearing and seeing Amy Winehouse's beauty, originality, and ferocious talent. A treasure, in my opinion.

Jimmy’s Hall: An Irish movie with a socialist hero, set in County Leitrim in the 1930s. We had to see it, obviously. By Ken Loach. Worth a watch, although perhaps a little preachy? 

Mr. Holmes: I certainly am not sorry to have seen this, and Ian McKellen makes most things watchable. Some reviewer I read carped about having Laura Linney play a relatively uneducated housekeeper. Okay. Because actresses shouldn't play parts that they wouldn't occupy in real life, I guess? It was entertaining and it was enjoyable.

Trainwreck ***: one of my favorites of the year. Amy Schumer was perfect and awful and wonderful in her role, and the film was filled with wonderful performances: Bill Hader is loose and lovable as her romantic foil; John Cena is hilarious and touching as her just-a-little-too-dumb boyfriend; Brie Larson as her sister; Colin Quinn as her racist, awful dad; Tilda Swinton as an incredibly funny and truly terrible boss; and most of all, LeBron James as himself. Magnificent. 

Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation *: Super entertaining. Tom Cruise as a special effect. That is all.

Spy **: Although I thought MI:RN was pretty great, I will say that my favorite international spy movie of the year by far was Spy, Paul Feig's send up and love letter--send up of the genre, love letter to women actresses, Melissa McCarthy specifically. She is wonderful indeed as a CIA analyst who becomes a field agent, as is Miranda Hart as her friend/sidekick. Alison Janney also has a splendid role as the CIA unit boss--so hilarious--and Rose Byrne plays international (Bulgarian) baddie. They are all so incredibly funny, but it would seem churlish (and insubordinate) not to mention Jason Statham as, well, a parody of himself, one of the funniest things I have seen this year or maybe ever. And rounding it out, Jude Law also plays on his own pretty boyishness in a great way. I've seen this movie three times and I am pretty sure it will be funny forever.

Ricki and the Flash *: I will not apologize (the sure sign of an impending apology) for loving this movie. I cried all over myself at it. Oh how I loved it. Meryl Streep as a neglectful mom who tries to make up for it. She's made a life for herself, sort of, playing in a bar band. Her boyfriend is Rick Springfield (!) and their bar band is--true story!--pretty legit. 

Mistress America **: Noah Baumbach gave us a twofer this year, with While We're Young and this. The great thing about this film is that it has Greta Gerwig, playing an erratic but compulsively charming young woman pretty much barely making it in New York City, and the friendship she strikes up with another young woman--their parents are going to marry one another, apparently. Both the actresses are terrific (Lola Kirke plays the other young woman, a college student), and the pace was zippy and lively. Comedies that last less than ninety minutes are optimal. I'm not saying I gave the stars on that basis, but, you know, it didn't hurt.

The Gift: Jason Bateman plays a jerk who doesn't know he's a jerk and who has to find out that he's a jerk. Joel Edgerton directs and also plays his antagonist. Creepy and pretty sharp.

Grandma **: This was a really good one. Lily Tomlin plays a poet who is called upon to help her granddaughter, who finds herself pregnant. All sorts of encounters ensue during the day they drive around L.A., trying to scrape together money for an abortion. Sam Elliott is indelible as a former lover of Tomlin's. 

Sicario **: I was glad I got to see this for the great performances from Benicio del Toro and Josh Brolin. Emily Blunt was not bad either. Set at the border between the U.S. and Mexico, where what increasingly appears to be an extra-governmental task force works at the escalating drug wars. Super intense. 

99 Homes **: This, along with The Big Short and The Wolf of Wall Street, make a small curriculum on the economic meltdown. I was really glad to have seen this, with several terrific performances, including those by Andrew Garfield, Michael Shannon (whom I adore), and Laura Dern. 

The Intern: Okay, okay. You can see I didn't give stars here. But I did see this, and I did like it, and that's enough out of you, there, just pipe down.

The Martian *: Super enjoyable and entertaining. We saw this after a long week, and I really felt the deep, deep pleasure of being told a story, of good acting, especially Matt Damon's, of generally sharp filmmaking. Good job, all concerned! Keep up the good work!

Burnt: No reason this movie shouldn't have been better than it was. But it was basically a placeholder for that better movie, Bradley Cooper and Daniel Bruhl notwithstanding. 

Suffragette *: This movie was pedagogical, but it was also stirring, smart, emotionally compelling. I do not always love Carey Mulligan--or maybe it's just the idea of her that I resist, because I can think of several pretty strong performances by her--I did think she was great in this, as was Helena Bonham Carter. Ben Whishaw as the ultimately unsympathetic husband of our Carey. I always love seeing him. 

Peanuts Movie: I saw this with grandchildren. It was quite lovely, even in CG-animation. Charming.

Spectre: Daniel Craig as Bond and Christof Walz as the nemesis. Perfectly fine. It was exactly 30 minutes too long.

Spotlight ***: This movie is, perhaps, perfect. It is, perhaps, better than All the President's Men at showing journalism as a team sport, and why it is so important. A morally compelling story, too, and it's one worth attending to, about the ways that powerful interests, aligned, can lead to tremendous abuses against ordinary people. Everyone is so good, I can't even really talk about who is good, because it's everyone.

The Night Before *: My son and I were going to church, which was for no good reason not being held. So we decided to go to a movie, which ended up being this one. Want to see The Night Before? he asked. I had no idea. He queued up the trailer which I watched while he assembled his lunch. I totally laughed, and off we went. I submit to you that Seth Rogen's performance in this film is a comic tour de force, and I suggest that you see it for yourselves. Michael Shannon, as the film's equivalent of Jacob Marley, is superb.

Mockingjay 2: This was part deux of our break-the-Sabbath moviethon. I was disappointed in it. I liked the previous Hunger Games installment a lot. This felt sluggish and sloggish and I wasn't happy with it. I preferred The Night Before greatly. Just for your information.

Brooklyn *: This was lovely. I don't think it was transcendent. But it was good. Saoirse Ronan is, as always, sublime. 

Creed **: I loved this almost as much as I loved the first Rocky. Two reasons: (a) Michael B. Jordan is a wonderful actor. Wonderful. (b) Sylvester Stallone has given three great performances in his career: the first Rocky; his sheriff in Copland; and this. He is soulful and great. All right, three reasons: (c) the fight scenes are awesome.

Sisters **: We saw this the night before my daughter's wedding, which was perfect. It was funny and raunchy and really funny. In conclusion, Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. And Maya Rudolph. Equals comedy miracles. 

Star Wars: The Force Awakens *: Yes--totally. A fantastic girl heroine and Oscar Isaac as a pilot and another new character, Finn. Entirely pleasurable. I liked Adam Driver as Kilo Ren, the tortured wielder of the dark side of the Force.  

Miss You Already: so much crying. My daughter and I saw this together, basically for the purpose of crying. It did the job nicely. Drew Barrymore and Toni Collette as friends for life, even when one of them gets very very sick.

Room **: Brie Larson as the woman kidnapped, who has a son by her captor. Her love for him keeps her sane, and when she concocts a daring and terrifically dangerous plan of escape, which works, then she has to recover in the bigger world. So good, moving and upsetting and powerful.

The Big Short **: I found the design of this film--its assemblage of tones, imagery, strategies--to be the only possible response to the subject matter, which is the internal workings of the housing market collapse. So intelligent and so full of outrage. Great performances uniformly. So very smart.

Joy **: Despite the reviews, which seemed not to be so enthusiastic, I quite loved this. I loved the thought of this woman making good. A. O. Scott thought that David O. Russell deliberately played up the elements of Joy Mangano's story that felt fairy tale-ish, emphasizing the obstacles against her and the ways she summoned her powers to overcome them. I thought it mostly worked, and I loved Jennifer Lawrence in it, a lot.

These were actually 2014 movies I saw in 2015: 

Into the Woods: so much singing. I love music--I'm not quite sure why I don't really love musicals, especially recent ones. I wasn't sorry to have seen this, but it felt long and also strange. (I am apparently a philistine.)

Big Eyes: Fine. Wish it had felt more compelling, honestly, even though I love Amy Adams, and Christoph Walz made a perfectly great creepy husband.

Top Five **: Who's brilliant? Chris Rock, that's who. Also Rosario Dawson. And Cedric the Entertainer is terrific as Jazzy Dee in an unforgettable, and unforgettably funny, scene of debauchery. 

A Most Violent Year *: A very good, very straightforward drama set in New York City in the early 1980s. Oscar Isaac is a businessman plagued by the historically-documented crime wave of that era. His wife, Jessica Chastain, is from a crime family. The ways they navigate the challenges to their business, and the trust that is, or isn't, present in their marriage, makes for a compelling and grave film. 

Foxcatcher *: I didn't think this was an amazing film as a whole, but I did think that the scenes with Mark Ruffalo and Channing Tatum as wrestlers and brothers were all so beautiful, they took my breath away. It's entirely worth seeing for those scenes alone. 

Inherent Vice ***: a brilliant film, in my view. So gorgeous and spooky and scary and funny and sad. Paul Thomas Anderson and Joaquin Phoenix make a fine team, and there are nothing but great performances here. The feeling of paranoia but also corruption work to make this feel, to me, like L.A. in the 70s, and I loved that about it. I loved everything about it, honestly.

I missed a lot of really good films this year--Mad Max: Fury Road among them--but I am hereby committing myself to find those films and see them somehow, without also compromising my plans to see all of this year's good movies, plus, probably, a bunch that are merely passable and some that are really inexcusable. Because movies, c'est moi, and that's it, America, over and out. Happy New Year!

2013, these are my demands, take them or leave them!

Today, to celebrate my daughter's birthday (happy birthday, Sophia!), we had lunch at a little grill at the mouth of the Cottonwood Canyons, Big and Little. My son, younger daughter and I drove in my car. I knew exactly where I was going. I got on the belt route and my son commandeered the iPod.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Birdy," he said.




I listened for a minute. "I was just thinking that I wanted to hear more new music this year, and maybe I would ask you guys to make me a Spotify playlist, like, once a month."

"Once a month!" he said. I smiled, and then my mind started to drift from this song to another song (from Pitch Perfect, probably), and then I was thinking about some other music and then my son said, "Aren't you supposed to get off here?"

Yep, I was. So I drove to the next exit, and got back on the belt route going the other way. But then at the designated exit there were three possible ways to go and you had to be in the right lane to go the correct way, and there was a super bossy semi that wouldn't budge and let me in the correct lane. Annoying!

I know what you're thinking: this is a long story about going to a restaurant, and you don't really care, and what's the point? The point is this: thinking about the new music I want to hear--music I haven't yet identified!--got me going, so much so that I had two wrong-way attempts before we finally got to the restaurant. I think it's a sign, is what I'm saying: surely I need more, and new, music in my life in 2013? I say yes. Maybe if I get enough new music in my life, I won't get so over-excited and dreamy that I can't find my way to a totally familiar restaurant at the mouth of the Cottonwood Canyons, Little and Big.

While I'm thinking about the year 2013, I think I also want

• more long walks
• stronger muscles 
• maybe some other kinds of movement, like dancing and swimming and skating?
• more writing

And I want to enjoy what I have, which is a full, rich life full of meaningful work, chances to learn and grow, a beautiful family, wonderful friends, and plenty of everything I need. 2013: get on it.

My own personal algorithm.

It's January 9, the people. You know what that means--time to do the ninth blog post of the year.

There comes a time in any "Blogging Every Day in the Year 2015" project--say on the 9th day--when a person, a blogger, finds herself saying, well, what now? Because while the mind is a fertile and inventive place, maybe the mind might not feel up to a witty discussion of why the person, the blogger, has watched Pitch Perfect innumerable times, or a thoughtful expose of why she, the blogger, is not reading very much at all.

It's at times like these--say, the 9th day of January--when a writer might have recourse to the riches of Google on any topic. Perhaps the writer might Google "good topics for blog posts," just to see what turns up. Well:

from HubSpot's Blog Topic Generator

You can refresh the generator and get slightly different topics, using the same nouns (shoulder, fatigue, party). Questions like "What will fatigue be like in 100 years?" and "The Ultimate Cheat Sheet on Party."

Forthwith:

10 Quick Tips About Fatigue: 

1. how about a quick nap with the dog? 

2. maybe lay around a read a book. 

3. but first pick a book to read. 

4. will someone please bring me a snack, because I am too tired to get it myself. 

5. weeks before semesters are extra long and fatiguing. 

6. fatigue, the word, comes from the French fatigue, weariness. Also specifically: the labor of military persons (1776). 

7. I'm still wearing earrings, but I am lying down. Could someone take out my earrings? I'm kind of tired. 

8. how about a quick nap with your dog? 

9. we have about 90 premiere movie channels this weekend, excellent for this reclining position I'm currently occupying. 

10.  [too tired to think of a tenth quick tip]

I would imagine that in 100 years, fatigue will look pretty much like this: prone, accompanied by a remote, bookless, with a canine companion. Maybe in 100 years I will be able to change the channel with my mind.

Breaking it down, finally: the movies I saw in 2017

2017 was a hell of a year, America. I know you know this. There are a lot of movies I didn't see, and I'm a little sad about that, but in the end, I chose the movies, for the most part, that I thought would buoy me, one way or another. There were movies I didn't see that I thought might, in whatever moment, sink me. And so it turned out that there were a lot of weekends when we could have gone out but didn't. 

Anyway: not all of these movies are great movies, but I'll tell you the ones I loved and why. A star (★) means that this was a movie I thought was worthwhile. No stars means I have a thing or two to say about the film, but do not, for whatever reasons, recommend it.

★ Hidden Figures: It took us a minute to get to this film. Honestly, the deciding factor was how much both my parents loved it. So I went with that in mind--my father loved it for the science, my mother for the story. I loved it for both. This is not a great film, but it's a great story, and I loved seeing it. 

★ Paterson: This film was like a long drink of cool water. It's a movie about a poet, beautifully played by Adam Driver, someone who writes and has a job and a marriage and an apartment and is a regular at a bar and so forth. The work that he does with words is a ground note that sounds through his days. I thought that this movie did the wonderful work of suggesting how writers think with words, phrases, sentences, line breaks, sound. A true beauty. 

★ 20th Century Women: I loved this movie. It broke my heart. It was a love letter to women of all ages, and I loved how it represented a big, messy, headstrong life--times three--from the point of view of a boy, a point of view which did not seek to dominate but to observe and to love. Beautiful.

Fences: Glad to have seen this, in part to become more familiar with the play, which I imagined would be magnificent. I would have loved to see these performances on a stage. The film, however, was stagy. Splendidly acted but stagy.

★ The Founder: I watched this on a plane, I believe coming back from Scotland. I can't vouch for that. However, I found it to be pretty fascinating and absorbing, an American story with all the dimensions of America that fascinate, appall, even sicken. And yet--not in the least a trudge to watch. A special valentine to Nick Offerman, who enlivens every role he takes.

★ The Big Sick: My memory is that this film got a lot of love just in advance of its release, then people wanted to pick at it a little. But it's a good film. It's funny and sweet, and one of the big pluses is Holly Hunter and Ray Romano as the parents--so soulful and beautiful. Loved this film.

★ Personal Shopper: I loved this--a friend who's a film professor found this to be flawed, and sure, I agree, at least in theory. But I was mesmerized by it. It was creepy and beautiful and thrilling by turns. I loved its meditation on loss. Kristen Stewart is superb in it.

★ Florida Project: An indelible film. The little girl who plays Moonee, Brooklynn Price, the central figure of the film, is unforgettable as the full-of-play and mischief child, living in a rent-by-the-week motel with a mom who's scrambling to make a life for herself and her little girl. Scruffy and gritty, but nonetheless full of magic. I knew, I planned for, whatever form the heartbreak would take at the end of the film, but I was nonetheless unprepared for how it broke my heart. So, so good.

★ Wonderstruck: Another beautiful magic trick of a film, binding two time periods together through two gorgeous performances by children. One, Millicent Simmonds, is from Utah, and she is beautifully cinematic. This film could be seen and enjoyed in a multiplicity of ways by families, or by anyone, really. Worth seeking out.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri: I saw this film twice, once with the historian, once with the historian and my son. It has its pleasures, chief among them the three starring performances. I love Frances McDormand, and because she is formidable, it was easy for me to miss what was wrong with the film, including its troubling politics, and a casual racism that is flirted with, a sleight of hand that gets more difficult to ignore the longer you think about it. I love Sam Rockwell, too, but as, by now, many people have pointed out, you're expected to invest in the recuperation of his racist character, while simultaneously never being invited to care one whit about the characters he has damaged. It's a testament to how good he is that you might not notice right away. This is a film that declined in value for me the further away I got from it.

★ Lady Bird: It is a perfect thing, this film. Like many comedies, people can pick away at it, but I found it beautifully constructed, with performances that were so dimensional and so subtle that I could take almost endless joy from it. The beauty of Saoirse Ronan and her entitled rage. The absolute splendor of the meaning Laurie Metcalf can wreak from the mere tilt of her head. Let us not forget Tracy Letts, who has given us joy in so many films this year. I know I will enjoy this film for years to come.

★ Wonder Woman: Lucky me, that I got to see this film with my son. He had already seen it, but he knew that it wouldn't be the historian's thing, and that I would love it, so he invited me to come. I expected to enjoy it but did not expect to be so moved by it. Gal Gadot is truly remarkable, her beauty fiery and intelligent. I'm enjoying Chris Pine these days, too, in side-kicky roles, totally present and, it must be said, piercing blue eyes that, whatever, okay, they work for me. Anyway, this is a film that needed to be made and is gorgeous and worth every penny they need to pay GG for the sequel, since they clearly underpaid her for this film.  

The Hero: Sam Elliott is an icon, first of all. And this film gets at at least some of why this is the case. In terms of elegies to iconic actors of mostly western roles, I prefer him in the last couple of seasons of Justified, even though this film is certainly competent and affecting. If you love Sam Elliott, just watch Justified. And also, of course, The Big Lebowski.

I, Daniel Blake: A fine piece of agit-prop from Ken Loach that I felt cleansed and scarified after watching. As argumentative and didactic as it is, it does a pretty good job of showing the logic of late capitalism as it plays out in people's lives. 

★ Dolores: Tremendously galvanizing and inspiring, and also frustrating and inspiring of a deep soul-search. How shall we live, when there is so much to do? Dolores Huerta made decisions that it would have been very hard for me to make, and it was hard for me not to feel judgmental about her decisions, but then I think: what about the work she did? Who would have done it, if it had not been for Dolores? It's entirely worthwhile to see the film to engage in this kind of questioning.

★ Get Out: One of my favorites of this past year--so sharp, so smart. So dread-inducing, so discomfort-provoking. It's a film so entirely relevant to this moment, and it might feel like an interrogation if it weren't so totally entertaining. Special props to Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener for being super creepy, and to Daniel Kaluuya for being perfect and for getting the (white) audience to identify with his character fully, and also feel implicated in what's happening. So good.

★ A Ghost Story: This movie is a deep and unhurried meditation on loss. By 'unhurried,' I mean meditative but also, yes, slow. And Casey Affleck is wearing a sheet for 75% of the movie. With all of that, I still recommend it. I've never seen a single thing like it, and there are images and scenes from the film I'll never forget. It's a work of art, and it works at soul-level.

★ Beatriz at Dinner: I saw this movie twice, and I found it riveting and heartbreaking. Salma Hayek has maybe never been better, in my opinion, and the ineffable John Lithgow was so perfect as the entitled tycoon/entrepreneur who was nonetheless a fairly compelling character. Connie Britton is also perfect as Hayek's client who thinks of herself as a good person, and who isn't exactly a bad person, but definitely a compromised person, albeit a person with absolutely gorgeous hair, which--let's be honest--is never not the case. I think this movie was flawed, but I think its flaws actually are part of why I liked it. It was one of my favorites of the year.

The Beguiled: Sofia Coppola, I love you and I will never ever not be grateful for The Virgin Suicides and Lost in Translation and even Somewhere. But you cannot make a movie set in the Civil War and not have it be at least a little bit about slavery, and if you try, it will be morally compromised. That's all I can tell you about this film. Anything else that is good about it--the cinematography, for instance, or the acting--is beside the point.

★ The Lovers: The wonderful Debra Winger and the excellent Tracy Letts (and the great Aiden Gillen and Melora Walters) all in a comedy, sort of, about love and letting go. All the things you could say--like about how a sex comedy with middle aged people is so refreshing, blah blah blah--are not really what's good about this. It's really just so good to see these splendid performers in a complex story. 

★ Wind River: Things about this are wrong, like, telling this story from the point of view of the white guy, even if the white guy is Jeremy Renner. But here's what I liked about this film: that it's a story about sexual violence that doesn't make it pretty. That it takes as its canvas the bleak Wyoming wilderness. And, aside from a couple of clunky parts, the writing is very good. I rank Taylor Sheridan's films (he's written a bunch, performed in some, and directed this movie) thusly: Screenplay for Sicario #1; screenplay for Hell or High Water #2; performance as Danny Boyd in Veronica Mars, the TV show, #3; director/writer of Wind River #4. I would say that the directing was better than the writing in Wind River. Anyway, I still am a fan of Taylor Sheridan. And if you haven't seen Veronica Mars the television show yet, for the love of everything good in this world, just watch it already.

Despicable Me 3: perfectly fine and funny, especially with some kids, which is how we saw it.  Also, I still get a little charge out of Steve Carrell doing this voice work. And I think minions are basically pretty funny. Sue me.

Spider Man: Homecoming: Saw this for the historian's son's birthday, with a whole theater full of friends and family, and it was a blast. I can remember approximately 3% of it. But that doesn't mean it wasn't wonderful. I'm sure it was.

★ I Am Not Your Negro: I had never heard Baldwin's voice, although of course I had read his writing, here and there. Not only an elegant writer but an elegant speaker, the anguish of his critique cries out. I was riveted by and grateful for this film.

The Lego Batman Movie: Luckily, I saw this movie with grandchildren. It was delightful. A highlight for me was Batman, in the Batcave, eating Lego lobster, which had a crunch redolent of Legos. Well done indeed.

★ Chasing Trane: A lovely film which also educated me about the deep and wide brilliance of John Coltrane. So glad to have seen this.

★ Colossal: I gave this a star because it was so strange but also sort of gripping. Another of the idiosyncratic great Anne Hathaway performances (I like her, but every once in awhile, she takes a great role that's way off her beaten path, and I like her even more). Also, I am a fan of movies where women have outsize powers that they have to come to grips with.

Born in China: One of those Disney 'see the world' movies that are totally worthwhile, especially if...say it with me now...you see it with grandchildren. This had pandas, snow leopards, and golden monkeys. I especially liked the snow leopards, but that was a pretty sad story.

Snatched: Amy Schumer, whom I love, and Goldie Hawn, whom I also love, a lot, in a movie that should have been better. Funny and touching and woman affirming, so good for them. Not as good as Trainwreck, which I basically think is a masterpiece. 

Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul: Grandchildren. Cute and funny and passable. Alicia Silverstone as the mom--I'm glad she's still around.

Wakefield: Bryan Cranston gives a full on whack  performance in a movie that is not easy to like because his character is not easy to like. Worth it, I think, for the commitment he gives to it. And for the thought experiment--what would the life you live look like without you in it?--not a super comfortable thing to think about, which is not a bad thing to occasionally do with your movie-going dollar.

War for the Planet of the Apes: Whoa, this movie felt like a slog. Thoroughly well done, but dark and long. Good performances by all the apes, and Woody Harrelson.

★ Logan Lucky: One of the delights of the year. I love-love a heist movie, and this one felt pretty open-hearted. There's a sweetness to it. One of my favorite performances by Adam Driver as Channing Tatum's brother--Adam Driver had a terrific year, what with Kylo Ren and this, and his beautiful performance in Paterson. Kati Holmes is a riot as Channing Tatum's ex. And also: Channing Tatum. Very handsome and extra good in this role. I love the way, in nearly everything, he inhabits his own physical being.

★ Battle of the Sexes: A perfectly enjoyable film, with great performances and a retelling of a great story. I was in high school when all these Bobby Riggs/Billie Jean King shenanigans were going on, and it felt pretty freaking meaningful then. 

★ Loving Vincent: A glory. The animation in this film was a moving painting, a mesmerizing work of art that also told a compelling story about Van Gogh. Entirely worthwhile.

★ Blade Runner 2049: Why was this film basically forgotten, except for technical stuff, at the end of the year? I thought it was magnificent, from top to bottom. The soundtrack was utterly original--the whole sound design, in fact. Well acted, melancholy and beautiful, and the special effects truly stunned me. There was a scene where the Ryan Gosling replicant character interacted with a hologram that was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

Marshall: This, the third of Chadwick Boseman's worthy biopics, was again interesting and he is something, totally charismatic and able to embody, it seems, just about anyone. So glad he is, I hope, going to be moving on into better and richer territory. However, I'm also glad for each of those stories about compelling American men, and I think he has tremendous gifts. Also, Josh Gad is no slouch as the lawyer Thurgood Marshall/Chadwick Boseman presses into service for the case.

Murder on the Orient Express: Fun, but I also feel like the star of that movie was Kenneth Branagh's facial hair. It upstaged him and everyone else, including the storied train, at every turn.

★ Coco: What a gift. This vivid, full-hearted, beautiful film. My film professor friend says that this has nothing on The Bread Winner, which I did not see and which I regret not seeing. Even if she's right, that doesn't take away at all how beautiful and light on its feet and  full of verve Coco is. 

★ Disaster Artist: I enjoyed this film quite a bit. What a strange and interesting story, and I loved, at the end of the film, when they showed, in split screen, the parts of The Room that Disaster Artist reenacted. No invented thing can be as strange as what actually happened.

★ The Shape of Water: I thought Sally Hawkins' performance in this film was utterly transfixing. She moved as if she were dancing, always and in wholly imaginative ways. She was the best of a lot of great things in this film, including Michael Shannon (my movie star boyfriend), Richard Jenkins, the lovely sets and designs, the monster, and--my second favorite thing in the film--Michael Stuhlbarg, who had a triple play of excellence this year, with this role, his role in The Post, and his performance as the father in Call Me By Your Name. 

★ Thor Ragnarok: I can't tell you one thing about what happens in this movie, but (a) Chris Hemsworth is, don't kid yourself, super hunky; (b) Tessa Thompson as a valkyrie was just excellent; (c) Tom Hiddleston is always, always a pleasure, and very good as Loki; (d) Jeff Goldblum! I coveted every single thing about the way he was decked out for this film, including his superb eyeliner. There were some fights and Thor got pretty banged up. Also, no more fabulous hair. There will be a sequel. I saw this with my cousin and my aunt, we ate popcorn, we had a fine, fine time.

★ The Last Jedi: Whooooboy, have I had some heated discussion that caught me unawares, with friends and acquaintances who hate this movie. Hard for me to figure out why. Clearly, I am not a purist and do not have the correct attitude about this whole Star Wars project. I won't get into it (for instance, I liked The Phantom Menace and loved The Force Awakens, which makes me a heretic and a dummy), but I really did love The Last Jedi. I thought it was visually gorgeous and engaging, with lots of good character work. (I am basically having an argument with the friends and acquaintances as I write these humble words--shut up, friends and acquaintances! I'm trying to write a capsule review of my opinion!) Anyway, I saw it with my two sons, who both liked it too. Strength in numbers.

Movies I meant to see in 2017, but did not (the starred ones were 2017 movies I saw in 2018):

Brad’s Status

★ Dunkirk: Very glad I finally saw this film. I thought its concept--land, sea, air--was pretty brilliant in depicting the way the Dunkirk rescue went, and I liked very much that the film did not spend too much time, at least not over much, with a character, so that you used the character as your lens for seeing the conflict. It moved spatially, and used, I thought, sound very well indeed. I thought it was quite a wonderful film, very smart, and it felt quite original to me. 

Girls Trip

Good Time

Baby Driver

The Little Hours

Logan

The Meyerowitz Stories

Valerian

Detroit

★ I, Tonya: All about the performances, which are excellent to a person. Sebastian Stan, who played Harding's husband, and Paul Walter Hauser, the guy who moron-minded the knee-capping plan, were both quite amazing. I read a lot about this film, including a really wonderful profile of Harding in the New York Times. There's a critique about how it views class, and whether the film lets Harding off the hook. I thought the film was pretty fair-minded, and I thought it had a lot of insight about women, beauty, social class, and the idea of winning in America. I thought it was a worthwhile film.

Pitch Perfect 3

★ The Post: While I was watching this film, for the most part it felt pretty deft. And I was glad to see it, this film, right now, at this political moment. So I'm glad it got made. I'm also glad it didn't win any awards. It didn't need or really deserve to. It was enough that it got to make its statement and be in the mix of discussion. That's this film's real purpose, I think. 

Hostiles

All the Money in the World

Molly’s Game

★ Phantom Thread: Oh, the beauty and weirdness of this film. I loved the detail of it, the attention to the craft of design, dressmaking, and (of course!) its analogue in the work of filmmaking. What great performances, the three leads. What a beauty, an original. So idiosyncratic and so great.

Downsizing

Mudbound

T2

★ Faces Places: Agnes Varda, in her 80s, goes around France with photographer and muralist JR, a very young man, in his van/photobooth, taking massive photos of people who live in the small villages they visit. It is a meditation on art, on age, on loss. It was perfect and completely unique. I'm so glad I got to see this film in a theater.

B.P.M.

★ Call Me By Your Name: I feel like my experience of, and memory of, this film, lives in a protected corner somewhere in my heart. It gutted me and made me feel all the way alive. I wanted to see it again in a theater but didn't find the time. To me, it said everything about love and connection, about why it is precious even when it doesn't last. This film is radiant with beauty.

Minimal/maximal.

I was looking at Middlebrow's blog yesterday (although, Middlebrow, I know you're on vacation, but when your post reads "Day 1: Driving to Blanding, Utah," you have to know your reader is going, but what about Day 2? not to mention Day 3? I'm just saying.), remarking on its sleek minimalism. For instance, he announced about the re-upping of his Flickr account, but no shiny, distracting Flickr badge. He's got his blog roll, his del.ici.o.us, a site meter, and that's about it. Middlebrow is a notorious minimalist. I think he has, like, three e-mails in his inbox at a time. He deals with things. Things have their places. He doesn't have too much stuff. I admire this quality, mainly because it is a quality that I manifestly do not have, not in the least. There is not one minimal thing in my entire life. Not my blog, not my house, not my office, not one thing.

I am thinking about this because of all the projects going on around here. The organizing of the study. The reshaping of the downstairs. The outdoor projects, front and back yards. Every room in my house has more things than it should have--remnants of all the periods and eras of my life. For instance, there are chairs outside from the historian's house, from my apartment, from thrift stores. Two lawn chairs were my grandmother's, one is from somewhere else, I'm not sure where. There's a stainless steel table of which I do not know the provenance or what it's supposed to be for. And, of course, there's the new old stuff I bought at the consignment store.

I could do the same rundown for every room in my house, but it's already freaking me out a little. What is all this stuff? What is its meaning? Sometimes I think it is a pathology, the acquisition and retaining of stuff which names me to myself and comforts me in the renaming. I'm sure there is an unattractive Freudian explanation which I shall just skip over ("denial"). Also, I kind of just like stuff. There is a certain physical pleasure I derive from just going out, looking at things, thinking of which ones I'd like to take home, put on tables or in cupboards or in closets, wear, use, handle, have around me.

I think that tomorrow, I'm going to take everything out of one half of my study and make myself be a little ruthless. Let me just say, however, that this is by no means a cure. It will, at most, deal with the symptoms. To cure maximalism, you have to believe that the stuff you have, the stuff you acquire, the stuff you keep, is only stuff, and not somehow a part of you. I don't know what it would take to believe that. I think it might be kind of like having excellent vertical leap. Some people think you can improve vertical leap, but I don't think anyone believes you can improve it much. If you have it, you have it. Of course, that's until you get older and you lose it anyway. Okay, it's not very much like vertical leap at all. Perfect pitch--it's like that. I'm pretty sure that my maximalist tendencies are related to all the good, interesting qualities about me. I just wish these excellent traits would help me to clear a path between my desk and my chair, and also reduce the stuff in my closet by a third.