Baby, Don't You Cry, Gonna Make a Pie

Instead of reviewing yet another wonderful Spencer Tracy movie, I've decided to come closer to the present and watch and review Waitress.  This is a beautiful 2007 film starring Keri Russell (who starred in August Rush the same year - another beautiful film) and Nathan Fillion (who I know best from playing Mal in Firefly), and directed, written, and acted in by Adrienne Shelly.  Shelly, sadly, was needlessly and tragically murdered before this movie got any critical acclaim.  I mourn her loss.

The movie's opening credits are filled with color and light.  It was so visually appealing, I could not look away.  The gentle, homey, bright images of making pie were so alluring, I have been convinced by this movie that I must learn to bake pie, and I wanted so desperately to eat one at the time.

The film begins with a very unhappily married waitress, Jenna (Russell), who works at a pie diner, where she also is the star baker.  She believes herself to be stuck with her husband, and hides away money, hoping to gather enough to go to a pie-baking contest in another town.  Jenna discovers near the beginning of the movie that she is pregnant ("I do stupid things when I drink," she says, "like sleep with my husband.").  When she goes to see her pre-natal care physician, Dr. Pomatter (Fillion), there is an immediate spark, and the two start a passionate and caring affair completely by accident.  Jenna is not pleased by the fact that she is pregnant, but discovers, once she gives birth, that her daughter gives her the strength of character she's been looking for to turn her life around for the better.

The writing is quick and unexpectedly funny at times.  As one of Jenna's co-workers, Shelly reflects matter-of-factly that "I do have pasty, pasty skin," after one of the others points it out.  Adorable.  The other waitress worries about her breasts sagging, and Jenna says, "I don't know how to tell you this, but your bosoms are FINE."

The writing is also poignant, such as when Jenna has a particularly rough day, and her doctor just holds her.  Jenna, at that point, has taken to writing letters to her baby in her head.  She says, "Dear Baby, I hope someday somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight and that's all they do.  They don't pull away.  They don't look at your face.  They don't try to kiss you.  All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness in it."  I've been lucky enough to have that feeling, and Shelly expresses it perfectly.  Even without words, the style is natural and flowing.  When Jenna takes a difficult phone call, her friend comes up from behind, and just hugs her gently and pats her hair - very familiar and familial.

Another fun feature of the movie is Jenna's pies.  The camera focuses on an empty pie shell, while Jenna speaks over with a description of the pie, and hands add ingredients as she speaks.  For example: "I Can't Have No Affair Because It's Wrong and I Don't Want Earl to Kill Me Pie: Vanilla custard with banana.  Hold the banana."

Overall, the movie is very sweet (PUN!), and makes you want to hold someone you love really close.  And eat pie.  Highly recommended, but especially if you're in a warm-and-fuzzy mood.

So...Be a Sport and Lie to Me, Okay?

Sixteen Candles is hands-down one of the worst movies I have ever made myself sit through.  It was made in 1984 and directed (and written) by John Hughes, who also directed The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off - great credentials.  The film stars Molly Ringwald as the hapless, half-popular sophomore.  Also in the film are Michael Schoeffling as the popular senior heartthrob and Anthony Michael Hall as the freshman Geek.

The movie starts on Samantha's (Ringwald) sixteenth birthday - which (completely realistically) everyone in her family forgets because her older sister is getting married the next day.  Not only does her family forget, but her day is filled with embarrassments too painful to recount (including the Geek deciding she's his true love and Jake [Schoeffling] finding a sex quiz she took about him).  We follow her through this excruciating farce of adolescence, and somehow end up also following the Geek's escapades as he tries to make himself into a stud, and Jake's experiences as he realizes (suddenly!) that Sam is the true love of HIS life.

Oh, please.

I have watched Hall in some of his more recent work - The Dead Zone (TV) - and know that he can act, and is totally believable.  If I were him, I would hate myself for this movie.  The geeks are stereotyped into being anti-social jerks who wear underwear on their heads for fun and lean in too close to poor Sam when she's asked out by them.  Any self-respecting geek I know would have cowered in a corner just praying for her to notice them, and that no one else would, not making themselves obvious in the least.  The geeks in this movie seem to embrace the tenuous stereotype of smart equaling bizarre to the extreme.

Also in this movie is a character called Long Duk Dong (played by Gedde Watanabe).  He is a Chinese foreign exchange student who is staying with Sam's grandparents.  He is also another stereotype in action - he has an overly thick accent, is ignorant of all American ways, and is accompanied by gongs every time he is on screen.  He even uses a spoon and fork as if they are chopsticks.  I would have believed that by the 80's we would have been past this kind of blatantly racist stereotyping, but then again, there's Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle, so I guess we aren't.

The only genuine and beautiful, and I would venture to say even well-acted part in this movie is that of the father, played by Paul Dooley.  He has a heart-to-heart with Sam once it occurs to him (in the middle of the night - when one realizes anything important) that it was her birthday and they missed it.  At first, he's still a bit of a cad and is thinking that Sam is upset because of her sister's wedding and not because of her crush.  Finally, he gets the point and says sweetly, "That's why they call them 'crushes.'  If they were easy, they'd call 'em something else."  It was indeed a relief to have a comfortable, real-feeling scene in the middle of this mess.

I can see no reason why a person would wish to torment themselves with this film, unless for some misguided nostalgia.  As for me, I have gone running back into the arms of Spencer Tracy, but I'll leave that for another time.

So Long As We Learn, It Doesn't Matter Who Teaches Us, Does It?

To Sir, With Love has always been a film that I enjoyed.  I watched it when I was quite a bit younger, but always remembered Sir (if you'll excuse me) with love.  The film was made in 1967, and starred Sidney Poitier, with several other cheeky British teenagers as co-stars, including Lulu, who sang the theme song that I'm sure you've heard, even if you haven't seen the movie.  The movie was directed by James Clavell, who directed about 8 other movies that I haven't heard of.

The movie takes place at a school for "rejects" in London's East End.  Not being from London, I don't honestly know what the real East End is like, but I get the impression from the movie that it's a slum.  The kids there are rebels and outcasts, deemed expendable by society.  Even the teachers have decided that the kids are a lost cause, and have no control.  Mark Thackeray (Poitier), a young, black engineer who hasn't found a job in his field, comes into teaching merely to pay the bills.  He approaches the classroom first with patience and assessment, and is subjected to both silly and dangerous pranks, and also loud disrespect until he snaps once a feminine product (presumably used) is put into the classroom stove and lit on fire. 

Once he snaps, of course, things get better for him.  He decides that these kids (who are seniors in high school) are not actually kids any more and need to stop learning from books and start learning about life.  He throws away his books and tells them to ask him any question they want - talk about sex, life, marriage, cooking, careers, anything.  With a few more troubles in tow, such as one of the student's mothers dying, or the necessary spurning of a young girl's attraction, Thackeray manages to emerge from the term beloved by his students and colleagues.  He is accepted at an engineering job, but tears up the acceptance letter in the very last scene of the film.

A few thoughts.  

A montage of photographs serve to explain a field trip they go on to a museum.  It is an interesting way to do it, and while originally I would have thought it dull, they really captured the different personalities of the students, and made what could have been a boring scene interesting.  I wonder if they just had the actors go to a museum, let them interact naturally, and took pictures.

Poitier is amazing as an actor.  A nearly silent "Sit down," carries so much weight and authority.  In addition, there are several shots of him alone at home or in the classroom, conceivably just thinking.  Those shots convey simply how alone he is despite having colleagues and students.

You have to at least tolerate the song "To Sir, With Love," since it plays all the way through the film.  I wished that they had other bits of song to break up the film.  Even though I'm rather fond of that music, it still got a bit annoying.

While heartwarming and sweet, this movie seems typical today.  It is the simple mentor turns a bunch of bad kids around kind of movie.  If you're looking for something simple and friendly, look no further.  If you are looking for the kind of movie to make you think, move on.

But I still am quite fond of this film.

Let's All Be Manly!

My next film is another I've been meaning to get to. It stars two of the very greatest of the greats - Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. It is their funny and thought-provoking Adam's Rib. This film was directed by George Cukor, who also directed Hepburn's The Philadelphia Story (hilarious), Judy Garland's legendary A Star is Born, and the wonderful Audrey Hepburn's My Fair Lady. In her book Me: Stories of My Life, Katharine Hepburn says that Cukor was one of her very favorite directors to work with. Indeed, many of her films that I adore were directed by Cukor.

At any rate, this movie was released in November of 1949, and briefly follows the lives of two married lawyers, Adam (Tracy) and Amanda (Hepburn). In the beginning of the movie, the two have a friendly debate about what the role of women should be in the modern society. Amanda states, "We don't want advantages, we don't want prejudices." I think that this is precisely the crux of the feminist movement: pure equality - no advantages, no disadvantages because of our sex. I am so proud to hear my favorite actress declare my views on feminism so succinctly - in the 1940s no less.

Anyway, I'll get off of my soapbox.

As a direct outcome of this debate, the two take opposing sides in a case that pits husband - Warren (Tom Ewell) - against wife - Doris (Judy Holliday). Doris came in on Warren canoodling with another young lady, and took several unaimed shots at them both. What was clear was that she shot at them. What the trial was trying to determine was whether or not it was justified. It's a bit complicated, since we don't live in this mentality (for the most part) anymore, but if a man were to do the same thing, Amanda's position was that he would get a slap on the wrist from society, but her client was on trial for attempted murder. Adam, with Warren as client, was just trying to convict Doris of the crime.

This creates, as one might imagine, some trouble at home between Adam and Amanda. Their fights and makeups - hilarious and yet almost painfully realistic - make up the bulk of the film. The dialogue is smart, fast, and from the heart. Like with most movies with these two, it seems very natural and real.

I loved this movie so much that I don't have the space to include all of the notes I took on it. So here are a few tidbits quickly plucked out:

At the beginning, the two each drop pencils at the same time off of the table during jury selections, and flirt with each other silently under the table. This is adorable, and mirrored later with a similar tactic, only with Amanda sticking out her tongue at Adam instead of lifting her dress for what must have been a mildly scandalous view of the bottom of her slip.

There is a scene where Amanda, Adam, and their neighbor Kip are all fighting in the hall. All three scream, and yell, and gesture for a good three minutes. The dialogue is unintelligible, but it is so because it suggests what it's like in a real fight - no one is listening to anyone else. It's very well done.

Finally, when Amanda starts weeping over a fight she and Adam are having, he rails on her, saying, "A few female tears, stronger than any acid!" I have heard from men that this is true. Ah, but he turns the tables on dear Amanda when at the end, he sheds a few tears and wins back her compassion. The following dialogue ensues:

Adam (in reference to crying) - "Us boys can do it too, we just don't think to."

Amanda - "There's no difference between the sexes. Men, women - the same."

Adam - "They are, huh?"

Amanda - "Well, maybe there is a difference, but it's a little difference."

Adam (laughs) - "Well, you know, as the French say - "

Amanda - "What do they say?"

Adam - "Vive la difference!"

Amanda - "Which means?"

Adam - "Which means hooray for that little difference!" (closes the bedcurtains)

All in all, a lovely film, a joy and a laugh. I recommend it with a devilish little grin.

It Doesn't Matter a Damn What We Think

My next movie was one I've seen before, but it is worth re-viewing: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967).  This was Spencer Tracy's final movie, and a worthwhile note to go out on, if you ask me.  It also stars Katharine Hepburn (always a win in my book), Sidney Poitier (grand), and the relatively unknown Katharine Houghton (Hepburn's niece).  It was directed by Stanley Kramer who also directed the great and groundbreaking movie Inherit the Wind (which I hope to talk about at some point in this blog).

The movie is about a young couple - John (Poitier) and Joey (Houghton) - who are interracial: John is black, and Joey is white.  This movie is set in the time when it was made: the 1960s.  At the time, it was bizarre and unacceptable for people of different races to marry, although it was legal.  Matt (Tracy) and Christina (Hepburn) are Joey's parents, and have raised her not to think any differently of people of different races - that everyone is equal.  Unfortunately for them, they have done an unexpectedly good job, and they run across problems when deciding whether or not they are all right with this marriage.

One interesting point comes up when John says that Joey thinks that all of their children will become President of the United States.  Barack Obama was born in 1961 - he was practically born of this movie.  How grateful I am that such things have become possible in such a short amount of time.

Tracy and Hepburn were in a real-life relationship for something along the lines of 30 years, and you can see the love in their eyes in these roles, which makes Tracy's ending speech so clearly.  He says that if John and Joey feel "half of what we felt - that's everything."  He then exchanges a long look with Hepburn that says much more than any line of dialogue possible.

It would be wonderful if we could learn as a society from examples that came before.  When I mentioned this movie to my friend, Mike, and told him that I was grateful we were past most of this kind of prejudice, he mentioned that we're in the same place with gay marriage that we used to be with interracial marriage.  I hope that changes.  And soon.

Wonderful movie with a lot of wonderful things to say.  Highly recommended, if only to watch the great cast work their magic.

The Nearest Thing to Heaven

My next movie is one that I've been meaning to watch for a while now - An Affair to Remember (released in July, 1957). Ever since seeing Sleepless In Seattle the most recent time, and watching all of the women who watched Affair dissolve into tearful messes, I decided that I must watch this movie that they deemed so beautiful. I figured it would be good - you don't usually go wrong with the great Cary Grant or the wonderful Deborah Kerr, not to mention director Leo McCarey (who directed The Bells of Saint Mary - another lesser known, but wonderful movie) - but I didn't think that I would dissolve into a tearful mess.

Boy was I wrong.

If I had watched this movie in the proper fashion - at home, surrounded by a blanket, some chocolate, and my cat curled up next to me - I would have been bawling like a baby. As I had to stop and start it a few times, the dramatic tension lessened a bit.

Ten minutes into the film, I was hooked. Cary Grant has a way of speaking quickly and throwing in tiny jabs in the most light-hearted way and Deborah Kerr matches him jab-for-jab here. The conversation is witty and quick, but also seems very natural - something that is difficult to achieve. I transcribed my favorite piece of dialogue in the movie for you here.

Terry (Kerr) refuses Nickie's (Grant) advances, since she already has a man in her life. Since Nickie is used to women falling at his feet, this is odd for him, and he admits to being embarrassed.


DK: (with great concern) I do hope it won't affect your ego.

CG: Don't think anything of it. I'll just take my ego for a walk...Unless you'd care to..."

DK: Have dinner with you? I'd love to!"


The movie continues on, and a romance develops, as one could clearly see would happen. The first kiss is very sweet and classy. Terry stalls on the stairs that they're walking down together, hesitating. Nickie steps up and both of their heads disappear behind the upper floor, as they seem to share a most romantic kiss. They promise to disentangle from their lives, get jobs to support one another, and meet at the top of the Empire State Building in six months if all goes well.

If you've seen Sleepless in Seattle, you know all does not go well. Nickie waits and waits at the top of the Empire State Building and we watch him grow more and more dejected and miserable. In a beautiful bit of filmmaking, we are watching Nickie, but hear the sad, sad siren of an ambulance in the background - we know it's for her, as we heard her scream and the screech of tires earlier.

Then comes the part where they're figuring out what to do with their lives now that all has gone wrong. A pointless double-singing of a boring song called "Tomorrowland" by an out-of-tune children's choir that Terry directs kicks me out of my romantic reverie. I tried to see if there was a point to this endless "Tomorrowland" song, but there didn't seem to be. If you have some clue, please enlighten me! This seemed to be the only flaw in the movie for me.

The ending was quite beautiful, and I couldn't be more glad that it was a happy one. I thought for sure that Nickie was going to walk out without Terry even telling him about the accident that kept her from meeting him. But the thought and a sequence of coincidences stopped him and he stayed and she told him and it was sad and beautiful and happy all at once.

A completely satisfying movie. I only wish that all romances were this witty and heartwarming. Now excuse me while I dissolve into a tearful mess.

Carpe Diem!

Hello, and welcome, if you happen to chance on this blog.

First of all, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Katie, I'm 25, married, and I love watching movies. I have little-to-no internet notoriety, so if you think I am "that" Katie, I'm probably not. I wanted to write this blog because I do, as previously noted, love watching movies, and I often have opinions about them that I'd like to record, even if it's just for me to read.

I want to make it clear that this will not be a spoiler-free blog. I will primarily be talking about movies that are old. Whether old means the 1940s or the 1990s to you, I will probably be getting into the whole spectrum. If I do talk about movies that are currently in theaters, I will make sure to put some sort of "spoiler alert" tag on them. If you do not want spoilers on a certain movie, please do not read the entry about that movie. Including this one.

The first movie (appropriately) for my blog is Dead Poets Society. This movie was released in June of 1989, and starred Robin Williams, Robert Sean Leonard, and Ethan Hawke, among many others. It was directed by Peter Wier, who also directed such illustrious films as The Truman Show and Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. He also directed Green Card (a fabulously awful tear-jerker of a chick flick starring Gerard Depardieu and Andie MacDowell), but we won't hold that against him.

The film is set at an all-boys boarding school called Welton Academy for Boys. The boys in one particular English class are encouraged by their teacher, Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) to "Seize the day!" but also to find inspiration and their own voice by reading and writing poetry.

That in and of itself is a beautiful sentiment, and since I saw this film long ago, I am now convinced that the introduction-ripping scene had such an effect on me that I never could bear to analyze poetry and have there be a "right" answer. If that is true, then I changed my major in college from English to History because of this film.

The controversy in this movie comes from the scene where Neil Perry (Robert Sean Leonard - yum), one of the students, takes his own life because of complex circumstances which are all based upon his father not letting him live his own life, and trying to control him. I've heard it said that it was a plot device that Mr. Weir used to pull at our heartstrings, and attempt to make the movie a classic. I disagree. This scene is what sets the movie apart. Without it, it is merely another movie about teens with a mentor. The only conflict without this one is minor in the large scheme of things, and I believe the depth of the movie would be lost without it.

Inspired by this movie, and a personal need for change, I am starting this blog. It's time. I hope you, too, are inspired by this movie and bravely find your own voice as they did.