3:47 PM

Job Inspiration

Posted by Rebecca | Labels: , ,

I was asked the other day what childhood book inspired me to pursue a job in publishing. After a spluttered moment when I panicked and thought about all those strange years when I wasn’t going to be an editor (I like to call them Rebecca: The Nurse Years), I realized that I had absolutely no idea. So I went to my fall back for most things book related, The Lord of the Rings, and smiled and nodded my way into another topic.

But the question has haunted me since. I feel like everyone else in the entire world has an answer to the question (although I will admit to not asking quite everyone yet. Busy week). But for me, when I was young, I was more interested in finishing as many books as possible in as short a time span as possible.

Funny side note: When I was in fourth and fifth grade, I started a book club during recess (I know. I was really popular). When a friend couldn’t keep up with me as I was reading Redwall, I sorta kicked her out of the club. That made me the only member. On the bright side, during this moment in time I was kicking-ass at any reading competition that my school library could throw at me. Read around Michigan? How about ten times! Read some Newbery Winners? How about all of them (even this one).

So in this whole time span, I doubt any books seriously moved me and inspired me towards a job in publishing. Instead, as it usually is with me, I think it was a memory.

My family lives in the middle of nowhere. Our small town (if you can call it that) has a single post-office and that’s practically our main attraction. So, whenever there’s a bad storm we always lose power and, because there aren’t that many of us, we’re pretty low on the priority list to return to civilization. But when I was young, whenever we lost power my family would all sit in the dark in our living room and my dad would read to us. And that’s how I heard the Chronicles of Narnia for the first time.

Of course, this is all over-the-top sentimental stuff that would be too much to bring up in serious conversation. I’m sure that I’ll stick with my Lord of the Rings answer if anyone ever asks it again (it’s safe and pretty true). But really, it was those moments in the dark as a storm blew outside where I was transported to a world of lions, magic, and summer that taught me the power of books. And that’s the first step into a job in publishing.

comments (0)

4:07 PM

Harrison Ford: Because I Can

Posted by Rebecca | Labels: , , ,

I was introduced to Star Wars the worst way possible. I was in my early double digits, sitting in a hotel room and these small teddy-bear things came onto the screen. Entranced, I watched the last hour of perhaps the greatest movie trilogy of all-time before I had seen anything that had come beforeit. I know. Blasphemy.

But it will make you all feel better to know that I eventually did go back to watch the rest of the trilogy and, thanks to perhaps the worst memory on the planet, I managed to completely forget that hour I had seen before. Sure, I remembered the teddy bears but WHAT? He’s his father? And HAN SOLO IS GOING TO DIE! In fact, I expressly remember calling my father at work sobbing at the end of Empire Strikes Back and him saying something like “I had to wait three years!” Fathers. But anyways, Star Wars managed to start me out on my first actor marathon (to be followed years later by the likes of Ewan McGregor and Michael Sheen). I wanted to watch every Harrison Ford movie ever made.Now a lot of people say that Ford is perhaps the worst popular actor of all time. Everyone loves him, but the guy can’t act. And although I may agree that it’s about time that Ford retire (cough*IndianaJonesandtheCrystalSkull*cough), I can’t agree that the guy didn’t have his moments. His great moments in fact. Here are my favorites:

5: Regarding Henry: This little-remembered film is one of the few Ford films that don’t revolve around being anaction hero. Instead he’s a creep of a lawyer that gets shot in the head and wakes up remembering nothing of who he used to be. It’s his most understated film in his list, which means that it’s some of his best acting.

4: Air Force One: I mean—it’s Air Force One. Perhaps I just love this one because it was my first R rated film and it made me feel old, or maybe it’s because I just really, really, really like this movie. It’s Ford being an action hero, but it’s Ford being a Presidential Action hero. And that’s really cool. Don’t we all, sorta, wish Obama was a little bit more like him?

3: Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark: Indiana Jones may be my favorite action hero of all time. You know what, scratch that, he is my favorite action hero. Consider the facts: He’s a smart historian who’s interesting in preserving the past. He battles the Nazis for control of the Ark of the Covenant. He has an obvious, fun weakness (why does it always have to be snakes?), and…well….he goes around wearing a really cool hat.

2. Empire Strikes Back: Han Solo. Need I say more? Sure, I will. Although people think that this is pretty standard fare for Harrison Ford, I believe that the Star Wars trilogy would have been less without him. Sure, I guess Tom Selleck might have been interesting (a mustached Han Solo? Let’s all think about this for a second), but Harrison Ford brought this roguish, fun angle to it.

1. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade: I’m watching this in the background as I type this blog post. It was supposed to be background noise as I worked, but…well…that didn’t really work. This is perhaps the movie that my family quotes to each other the most (INDIANA! Elsa never really believed in the grail.) But it’s also, I think, Harrison Ford at his best. A weathered hero who has to protect his family, stop the Nazis, and outwit three ancient traps. It’s brilliant. It’s epic.

comments (0)

4:36 PM

Dirty Sexy Money

Posted by Rebecca | Labels:

Because of my recent short-lived interest in Parenthood and because I just watched the complete series Sports Night, I have a strange affection for Peter Krause. It’s not a strong affection, but it was enough for me to watch Dirty Sexy Money.

And you know what, it wasn’t bad. In fact, I sorta liked it. Far from what the promotional material, title, and basic marketing scheme (MORE LIONS! MAKE THE POSTER LOOK LIKE WE’RE STILL IN THE NINTIES! THEY’RE RICH!) would make the average viewer believe, the first season of the show shows some acting chops and some actual story telling. In fact, I liked the first season so much that I actually stuck around for the second season. Which was a mistake. But I’ll come back to that later.

The “money” part of the title centers on the Tripp family. A wealthy dynasty worth billions, they’re everything that one would expect. Their family’s personal problems/frequent lawsuits/and general tight spot getter-outer, Dutch George, mysterious dies in a plane crash at the beginning of the series, forcing Dutch’s son Nick (Krause) to take over. Nick, of course, has spent all his adult life running away from the Tripps, but no one says no to Donald Sutherland. Besides, Nick may have just learned that his father’s death wasn’t an accident.

When the show wanted to (or perhaps when it stopped trying) it could actual create something very watchable. There’s an amazing scene between Krause and Sutherland when Donald learns that his wife has been having a forty year affair that is understated, silent, and right. Then there’s the character of Brian Tripp (Glenn Fitzgerald) who learns how to be a father to one of the most adorable little boys in the world. Those were the good moments that shown in season one. But then season two happened and the main plot took over.

And see, the problem is that the main plot never really works. Perhaps the show, canceled after its second season, never had enough time to make it work. Or maybe Blair Underwood, brought in to be a villain, wasn’t interesting enough (“Look. We’ll cast Blair Underwood. People like him, right? And….we’ll do something with his character. We’ll figure that out later.) And then there was the sense that, constantly nervous about cancellation, the show runners were frequently trying to switch things up to entice viewers to stay. Therefore, they sped up the end of Nick’s marriage so that he can start one with one of the Tripps; Donald Sutherland’s character stops demanding acting and instead wastes away ill-used; characters do complete one-eighties so that they become likable; (Look. We’ll cast Lucy Liu. People like her, right? And….etc…”). This all culminates in the second season episode called “The Facts” where the show runners just stop even trying and offer strange, off-putting mini-stories that don’t fit into the show’s overall cannon. Near the end there, I couldn’t help imagining frantic writers throwing out crazy ideas in the hopes that stranger stories would make everything better. But they didn’t stop being frantic long enough to realize that none of these ideas were any good.

Which is a shame. Because for that first season, Donald Sutherland and Peter Krause actually had something going there. It wasn’t dirty, it wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t really even about money. But it was pretty good. And then people panicked, and a show that had potential just became another cancelled show.

comments (0)

12:07 PM

Mildred Pierce

Posted by Elizabeth | Labels: , ,


In the United States, HBO dominates the miniseries category. From Angels in America to Band of Brothers, from John Adams to Temple Grandin, award seasons have gotten a tad dull. HBO always wins. So, to be fully informed viewers, and mainly because of the draw of the incredible, “I want to be her when I grow up” Kate Winslet, we watched the HBO mini-series of the year: Mildred Pierce.

From the opening montage of Mildred’s fabulous 1930s kitchen, Mildred Pierce is a period feast for the eyes. In other words, it’s really pretty, and you should expect to see Elizabeth in depression-era house frocks from now on. Also expect Rebecca to be demanding pies from every visitor. But of course we expect that from HBO—they’re masters of setting and ambiance.

And as you’d also expect from an HBO miniseries, the acting is top notch. These are the people that got Sean Bean for Game of Thrones and Paul Giamatti for John Adams. Because they’re so successful, HBO can get the cream of the acting crop—especially when even a minor, bland supporting role will garner you an Emmy nomination (we’re looking at you Melissa Leo!).  

But having said all of this, we can honestly say that we hated Mildred Pierce. The screenplay fails its high production values, the pacing fails its actors, and the story fails its viewers. Of course, much of this can be blamed on the original novel. HBO’s Mildred Pierce is adapted slavishly close to the novel. Watching it, you get the feeling that that this is a passion project for its writers and producers. As such, they were doggedly faithful to the source material and forgot to give the miniseries a life of its own.

On a personal note (spoilers ahead. Although we’d strongly encourage you not to see it so—continue at your own risk), the ending sucks. Or rather, we’ve seen Mildred struggle for five hours to start her own business, navigate three unworthy lovers, and raise the daughter from hell. Then she just sacrifices it all for that bitchy daughter of hers that we’ve spent the past five hours hoping would die. Mildred Pierce tries to be a harrowing tale about obsessive love that destroys a hardworking mother. Instead, it’s five hours of people being unhappy and not in a particularly interesting way.

And maybe it’s the fault of the novel, but the plot twists were amazingly unbelievable. Sudden deaths by pimple! Vida learns opera in nine months! Divorces overnight! God punishes women for casual sex with moustached strangers! Chicken and waffles sound great together! We’re sure this sort of melodrama worked great for the 1945 film, but we expect more realism from our media today. Or at least an explanation for death by pimple.  

Usually HBO wins when award season rolls around. But this year, we hope that Downton Abbey crushes Mildred Pierce. Just like Midred crushed Vida’s throat. #teammaggiesmith

comments (0)

3:08 PM

Plays, Plays, and More Plays

Posted by Rebecca | Labels: , , , ,

Sometimes life takes over and a month passes and you realize that you haven’t posted anything on your blog since you saw that Woody Allen film. Elizabeth and I haven’t been living in strange solitude doing nothing but staring at a blank wall, but we’ve actually been doing stuff. Lots of stuff. Which has left little time/energy/drive to actually sit down and write anything here, on Deadly Furniture. But, because the bookmark has been guiltily staring at me for the past week, I thought that it was time to…you know…write. And what better way to make a grand re-entrance then with plays?

Because Elizabeth and I have seen a lot of them lately. It’s perhaps one of my favorite things about New York City. If you aren’t afraid of lines (which we aren’t) or spending your day in them (sometimes

your entire day), you can get relatively cheap tickets to Avenue Q or How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying and then walk home afterwards. To say this is how I’ve been spending most of my limited funds (funemployment for the win) is pretty accurate.

So to say that Elizabeth and I felt pretty lucky that we could actually see a play that everyone in the country was talking about is to put it mildly. The Book of Mormon is a musical that is on the verge of changing everything about Broadway and the plays it produces and Elizabeth and I, New Yorkers, got to see it. And it was incredible.

The Book of Mormon

Ever since I was a child I tried to be the best
So, what happened?
My family and friends all said I was blessed
So, what happened?
It was supposed to be all so exciting to be teaching of Christ 'cross the sea,But, I allowed my faith to be shaken.
Oh, what's the matter with me?

The thing is, plays are harder to write about than television or movies. At least for me. The Book of Mormon is an experience that I can’t describe to you in anything resembling a fair review. Whenever I listen to the soundtrack, I think back of those moments of me standing in the back of the orchestra and hearing “I Believe” for the first time or watching “Turn It Off.” It was a singular and unique three hours of joy and laughter.

The same can be said of my experience in Stratford, Ontario. Elizabeth and I can’t seem to quit the Stratford Shakespeare Festival (we’ve been there eight times) and these past experiences build on each other until we have all these memories of past plays as we watch new ones. We both have our favorite actors (Geraint Wyn Davies and Tom Rooney!) and so we’re almost guaranteed to love whatever they’re in (within reason. I’m not totally blind to bad plays).

It’s easiest to just say that Camelot forced me to perform my best impression of my mother on Easter Sunday...

Camelot

Yes, Camelot, my boy!
Where once it never rained till after sundown,
By eight a.m. the morning fog had flown...
Don't let it be forgot
That once there was a spot
For one brief shining moment that was known
As Camelot.

...And Merry Wives Of Windsor made me really want a buck basket.

And then there’s Jesus Christ Superstar. The original soundtrack doesn’t do justice to the wall of sound that was this rock opera. And it was incredible. At times holy. Tim Rice writes his heart out here and the actors sang out there’s.

Jesus Christ Superstar

I dreamed I met a Galilean
A most amazing man
He had that look
You very rarely find
The haunting hunted kind

I asked him
To say what had happened
How it all began
I asked again
He never said a word
As if he hadn't heard

There. I have written another blogpost, bookmark. Now stop making me feel all guilty. I have plays to go to.

comments (1)

2:54 PM

Midnight In Paris

Posted by Rebecca | Labels:

In high school, I was forced to read both F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms. While I will defend Gatsby and the brilliance of that book to my dying day, I have never been thankful to anyone for introducing me to A Farewell to Arms. Although people keep telling me that Hemingway’s shorter stuff is worth a read and that it will change my mind towards his writing style, I have decided to avoid him and his prose like the plague.

Also, I have a huge Gertrude Stein problem. Sure, I’ll admit that she was at the center of the Lost Generation’s Paris life-style and that she helped brilliant people when they weren't so brilliant, but has anyone actually sat down and read The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas? It’s more than a little pretentious and a lot more than a little boring and it left me with a totally rational dislike for Stein and her writing.

So, imagine my delight, when I quickly realized that the movie I had innocently decided to go see because it involved Michael Sheen actually had not only the awesome Fitzgerald, but also Hemingway and Gertrude as main/pivotal characters. Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen’s latest film (and, by the way, the first Allen film Elizabeth has seen. I know. Shocking.), see’s Gil (Owen Wilson) stumble upon Paris in the 1920s. A writer who wants to be more than a hack, Gil Penderton finds himself among some of (arguably) history’s greatest authors and painters who, as one would expect, teach him more than just how to craft a good story.

As soon as my buddy Fitzgerald (played by Loki) came on screen for the first time, I knew that the film was going to be a keeper. However, perhaps the biggest surprise of the entire movie, is that Hemingway (Corey Stoll) made me fall in love with it. Allen (who both wrote and directed the film) captures Hemingway’s prose and thoughts about love, life, war, and women perfectly. As Hemingway rambles on with long, simple sentences, Wilson’s Gil can only stare on in awe but we, as an audience, find ourselves laughing in academic geek-ery. Kathy Bates’s Stein didn’t heal me of my dislike in quite the same way, although I can at least say that I found Stein tolerable here. The famous cameos continue with glimpses of Picasso, Matisse, Degas, and Dali (played by the extraordinary Adrian Brody who almost manages to steal the show from Sheen, Wilson, and Stoll with just one short scene) .

In the end, the Midnight in Paris plays out as a love letter to the city. At times poetic and always artistic, Allen paints for us a picture of a beautiful city with a glamorous and unique past. He sucks us in and leaves us wishing that we could turn a corner and find a bar containing the likes of Hemingway and Fitzgerald instead of a simple laundromat. There’s nothing terribly complex here, but it does leave you feeling enveloped in a cloud of nostalgic contentment

comments (0)

4:32 PM

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Unfortunate Tides

Posted by Rebecca | Labels: ,

Before I begin, I should tell you from the start that I’m a fan of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. I’m sure that what I’m about to say will make it seem otherwise, but really--I like the first three movies a lot. I’m one of the few defenders of World’s End, Elizabeth and Will, and basically everything after Jack Sparrow says, “Now, bring me that horizon” at the end of the first movie. Just so we all have that clear.

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides is a fantastically boring disaster of a movie that will leave even the most devoted of fans (read: me) considering fleeing the theater rather than sleep through…err….watch the rest of the film. I know. Harsh. But it really is that bad. Twenty minutes in I was wondering how much longer this thing was going to drag on and, although I was pretty sure that there would be an ending scene after the credits, I fled rather than put up with Hans Zimmer for one more second. Let’s start with the new characters. Taking the lead is Penelope Cruz as Angelica who, well, exists solely to be a love interest for Jack Sparrow. She’s the daughter of Blackbeard (Ian McShane) whose pretty evil and, on top of all his evilness, has stolen the Black Pearl. On Blackbeard’s ship is a missionary whose name, IMDB has just informed me, is Philip (Sam Claflin). He eventually falls for a mermaid he names Syrena (Astrid Berges-Frisbey) and it‘s all crazy and open-ended. Philip is there because Will is off dealing with dead people and Syrena is there because Elizabeth is waiting for a green flash of light.

The thing about new character/enemies/young attractive people is that they have to be in some way likable/useful. I know a lot of people are down on Will and Elizabeth, but everyone can at least admit this: they had interesting moments and their characters created interesting moments for other characters. Jack’s friendship with the couple made him the person that he is by the time On Stranger Tide comes in. However, this movie’s new characters mainly seem to be part of some bizarre side-show to the main events. Philip and Syrena as people and characters barely affect Jack and Angelica doesn’t bring any of the passion or intensity that Elizabeth and Jack had. Blackbeard, for all his creepy powers, pales in comparison to our good friend Davy Jones. Jack never acts really afraid of him, so why should we?

No, the only moment when the movie shines is when it remembers its roots. An opening sword fighting scene reminiscent of Will and Jack’s first meeting makes you remember better days. There’s also a moment when Geoffrey Rush and Johnny Depp are actually allowed to act. By now, Depp is so comfortable playing Sparrow that it becomes glaringly obvious. He just needs to say :”savvy“ once in a while and we‘re all supposed to call it good. But there’s this moment when Barbossa describes losing the Black Pearl to Blackbeard and you smile--because this is a good moment. This is a moment when two captains share their love for a ship and connect as old mates. This is a moment where we can tell that Rush and Depp are high-caliber actors. But of course that moment passes and we’re back to overly-ridiculous escape plans and over-used gags because our smile even has a chance to fade.

Without the characters, the plot quickly loses control and as the action shifts from setting to setting, from sunny weather to foggy weather, from one character to another, from this bizarre directorial decision to that horrific musical choice, I quickly stopped caring. Because at least two more sequels are already in the works, I was pretty sure Jack was going to make it and I was equally as sure that Jack Davenport wasn’t going to rise from the dead, Orlando Bloom wasn’t going to arrive on his cool new ship, and Elizabeth and her son weren’t going to stop by to say hello. And you know what? I was predictably right.

Will I give the next one a chance? Probably. Remember, I’m a fan. Or I was. Now, however, I’ll have to add a caveat to it. Just like with Indiana Jones. “Well, I’m a fan of the first three.”

comments (0)

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)
Subscribe