Bah humbug...or how an audio book reminded me to count my blessings

I can't even with the state of things in our world. 

#Metoo, national monuments, net neutrality...and the list goes on and on.  We knew this was going to be a constant battle, just like fighting any kind of cancer, and we knew it was going to be exhausting. But sheesh. Some days it's just too much.

I haven't written anything in a while. I was caught up with work then was on (in my opinion) a well-deserved vacation. Then I got caught up in hours of Hallmark Christmas movies (it's what I do, people. Don't judge.). In other words, not much to revue (I love you all so I would never subject you to Hallmark movie reviews without an excellent reason. You're welcome).

And in the midst of all that there is the constant barrage of how fucked up things are in our country. I'm not here to be political, it's not my gig. But it's draining and depressing, amirite?

I listened to an audio book recently, which was for me,  oddly uplifting. Like my own little Tiny Tim/Scrooge moment (you all get that I'm Scrooge, right? Bah humbug.) It isn't about Christmas miracles or even ways to navigate through our political climate. It's about movies and comedy. Yay! 

Silver Screen Fiend: Learning About Life from an Addiction to Film by Patton Oswalt (read by Patton Oswalt)

I'm no expert on books...I was a Film major not an English major. I just know what I like. Qualified folks - the Boston Globe and New York Times - both gave favorable reviews. 

Oswalt reads the audio version of this book and that makes it a sublime experience. It's like listening to four hours of Remy from Ratatouille tell you in his adorable little rat voice why watching films became an addiction.

Basically, Patton Oswalt watched Sunset Boulevard and it changed his life. He decided he wanted to be a director and the best way to achieve that goal was to see as many films as possible. It was his own type of film school and he was creating the curriculum. So he became obsessed. Like, wrote down every movie he saw and checked them off in his "bibles" -  film reference books like Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film. He was so far gone that he let a date walk to her car alone in LA after midnight because they were at a film festival and he wouldn't leave the next film. She broke up with him soon after (and rightly so). Along with this, we are regaled with stories from his early stand up days. It's an amazing peek into what the comedy scene was like in the glory days of the early 90's - detailing who was up and coming and the clubs where they performed.

If you are at all interested in films (old and new), comedy in the 90's or Patton Oswalt in general, I highly recommend LISTENING to this book. It's good fun and he's an incredibly eloquent guy.

His stories about his early days in the comedy scene reminded me of some good in the world and reminded me to count blessings, even small ones. Weird, right? But here's why:

I think I've written about this before, but when I was in college I "co-managed" a comedy improv troupe. I put "co-managed" in quotes because I certainly didn't know a thing about what I was getting into and I would say the same for the rest of the troupe. We got some small gigs (If I remember correctly our biggest was Rooster T Feathers in San Jose). Anyway, we were affiliated with a "promoter" (again with the quotes) who 100% scammed us on every gig he got us. We even knew it at the time but felt like our hands were tied. Anything to be seen (Weinstein-esque, no?).  Being that I had to deal with him frequently in my role as a co-manager, he often (always) said extremely inappropriate things to me and was a bit handsy. Our group joked about it a lot. I'm sure this was not only to make me feel marginally better but also we were young and didn't know, really, how to process this.  As I was remembering how scary it actually was, I was reminded that the guys in this troupe made a point to NEVER let me be alone with the promoter. Meetings, gigs, whatever, one of the guys were always with me. We all knew that he was essentially a ticking bomb. 

I had forgotten about them doing this, particularly in light of the fact that 20 years later I dated one of these guys and it didn't end well. So it was a bit of a gift to be reminded that, even if he's lost his way, my ex was a decent kid.

So let's count our blessings, no matter how big (Alabama, Time's Person of the Year!)) or small (quiet afternoons reading a book with my cat on my lap). It's easy to get overwhelmed with the bad but it's the good that feeds our souls. Thanks for reminding me, Patton Oswalt.

(I'd pair movie theater popcorn, Milk Duds and a big Coke Zero when you listen to this book.)

My takeaways:

#1 - Why don't I watch more old movies? There are SO many out there and I know I've only scratched the surface.

#2 - Patton Oswalt is a smart, smart guy. He's a prolific reader and (IMHO) a really good writer.

#3 - Patton talks about his brother, Matt, in the book. Matt is also a writer. When I looked him up I discovered that he was the person who convinced Mark Hamill to read Trump's Tweets in the Joker's (from Batman) voice. For that, we should all be thankful..

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

American Vandal

If any of you read my post about The Keepers you will know that I am a fan of the true crime series. I was all in for the podcast Serial (first season only - couldn't get into Season 2) as well as The Jinx and Making of a Murderer. My friend Jen suggested I listen to a podcast called My Favorite Murder, which I'm enjoying (although I have to take breaks or I get too freaked out). So it should come as no surprise that when I heard about American Vandal, I was intrigued. A satirical take on a true crime series? Sign me up. With high school students? Okay...maybe?

I enjoyed my high school years. But don't get me wrong - there is NO WAY I'd want to go back to that time. I'm not waxing nostalgic about my braces, headgear, silver wireframe glasses, down jacket or Birkenstocks. But I had a great group of friends (many of whom I'm lucky enough to still be in contact with) and a generally good experience. There is one thing I have maintained, though, since I left the hallowed halls of Lynbrook High - the social dynamics you encounter in high school don't change a whole lot when you are out in the real world. Sure, the "popular" crowd might look different (not jocks and cheerleaders necessarily) but a form of the social hierarchy remains. Even now, at my current job and at my current age, that dynamic exists with some of the producers.  Sometimes there is so much back slapping and guffawing between a chosen few that I'm worried someone might accidentally pop a rib. 

The thing is, my high school crowd - the drama, band and AV geeks, were and remain fucking awesome! Each and every person I hung out with in high school taught me something cool (from introducing me to "alternative" bands to creating goofy and amazing costumes and so much in between). We were all loyal to each other and we didn't care where we fell in the social rankings; they are the reason I enjoyed my high school years.

We hung out on the corner of a wall (not all of us shown).

But high schoolers in my true crime series? Satire or not, my jury was out.

American Vandal - 8-part series on Netflix, 2017

Well, my jury is in and it's absolutely favorable!

This series is funny, intelligent and far deeper than one would expect.

It's basically the story of a sophomore, Peter, who is a reporter on his school's morning TV show. Another kid, senior Dylan Maxwell, has been accused of spray painting graffiti on all the teacher's cars. Dylan has a history of being a "bad kid" - his YouTube channel proves it. He and his group of friends "the Wayback Boys" (which includes a girl), do ridiculous pranks and film them as running "shows" including "Baby Farting" and "Nuns Humping Trees". The Wayback Boys aren't subtle in their series naming so you can guess what each one is about. Dylan has been expelled from school and is facing a felony hearing.

Peter hears about this and immediately pokes some holes in the case so he decides to investigate. He is that wonderful kid everyone knew in high school. He's not "popular" but everyone seems to know him. He's an excellent student and ridiculously earnest. He knows who his friends are and he feels strongly in justice being served.

The crime in question:  someone drew dicks on all the teacher's cars during an "admin" day. 27 dicks on 27 cars. I can't tell you how much this appeals to my 13-year-old boy aesthetic. The idea that this is what is being investigated, and with such solemnity, is hilarious to me. 

Peter (and let's not think this name is an accident - every episode has a penis joke name ("The Limp Alibi" "Climax" "Clean Up")) and his fellow reporters leave no stone unturned. They dig in and put together a startlingly good case for Dylan's innocence. One of my favorite arguments in Dylan's defense is that, while Dylan is a notorious Dick Drawer (he draws them everywhere and frequently documents them), his are drawn differently than the dicks on the cars. They discuss the fact that he always includes ball hairs (which are absent on the cars) as if he's Picasso and the painting in question is a Monet.

27 dicks on 27 cars (not all shown).

The thing that makes this series stand out is the character development. The filmmakers clearly love these kids. They fit into the cookie cutter stereotypes you expect - jocks, student body president overachiever, AV geek, yet they are all so much more. Both Dylan and Peter have important revelations about their lives. Their friends disappoint, surprise, atone. They grow. Do they come out better on the other side? Do we know who drew the dicks?  You have to watch to find out. 

As an oldster (please read this in a creaky, cranky old lady voice) I realize that everything in this day and age is recorded SOMEwhere. Whether it's official (CCTV) or unofficial (cell phone pictures/footage from a party), it's the perfect way to lend credibility to a bunch of high school students being able to launch a proper investigation. While this is really cool, I'm also incredibly happy I grew up in the stone age where none of my shenanigans are documented.

I give this one an A.

(My drink pairing for this is absolutely, 100%, a beer bong.)

My takeaways:

#1 - I have too much fun in my present to miss my past, but I'm glad to say that at least I have a shit ton of good memories (that aren't documented on cell phone footage).

#2 - My coworker Shannon suggested this show to me. We are just getting to know each other and apparently I'm a bit more of an open book than I think I am.

#3 - Even though I thoroughly enjoyed American Vandal, the best "mockumentary" ever: This Is Spinal Tap.

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

The Sinner

Hi gang! I've missed you!

I've had kind of a hell of a summer. First I was super sick (I spent a month with Umbridge the Cough), then work exploded. I literally wasn't home enough to even watch anything so I had nothing to revue. I'll be honest, my crazy work schedule was exhausting; I started having Dreamworks PTSD. I also questioned if I'm just too old for this shit. But that's a topic for another day.

Now I'm back with a vengeance! After months of barely seeing anyone or leaving my house for the reasons above, I'm trying to be more social and active. In an effort to kill two birds with one stone (what a terrible saying...no birds were harmed!), this weekend Beth and I attended a Fitness Marshall event in Roseville. Yup, Roseville. We drove two hours to dance around for one hour. But it was completely worth it, his classes are so much fun. The gym that was hosting him was really more like a country club. I imagine, probably unfairly, that most members would qualify for a Real Housewives of Roseville reality show. The gym is enormous with two levels of classes and workout equipment. Apparently, they also have a cafe where you can be lounging by one of the 4 pools (2 indoor, 2 outdoor), order what you want from an app on your phone, and have it brought to you. Luxurious.

The event was called Esprit de She. There were a TON of overly excited women in all manner of workout ensembles (plus one dude who was clearly there with his girlfriend) RARING to go. Oddly, I was the only one in the 300-person crowd who had taken a class with Fitness Marshall before. So when he asked the question I did a really loud "Woooooo!" expecting to be part of a group of folks whooping. Imagine how uncomfortable I was when everyone around me turned to look, my lone cry ringing off the walls. Awkward.

It was a "Cardio Concert"!

Despite the beautiful venue, the overall communication for the event was frustrating (Beth called it subpar which, upon reflection, was too kind).  It started with the statement, buried deep in one of the many confusing promotional emails they sent, that they wouldn't allow bags in the gym for security reasons (presumably so your stuff wouldn't get stolen). This flummoxed us. How is a girl supposed to drive two hours to a workout class and not bring a bag? I will admit that I was extremely bitter about leaving my Chapstick and gum at home. I had to MacGyver my keys onto my water bottle so I wouldn't lose them. Let's not even discuss the state of my Proof of Insurance card and car registration after having them shoved in the tiny pocket of my Athleta capris. And most women DID bring bags. Rule breakers.

The most disappointing part of the whole experience was the post-class event. There was an Esprit de She Fair of sorts, with food, "bubbly" and a chance to win a raffle to meet the Fitness Marshall. They corralled all of us to the outside pool area (and by "corralled" I mean a bunch of sweaty people left a darkened-to-look-like-a-dance-club indoor basketball court to wander aimlessly outside, blinking in the sunlight, until someone who knew where the pool was finally led us). Disappointment #1: The "bubbly" was a type of canned carbonated sake. Disappointment #2:  The woman handing them out kept touting the Coconut flavor as her favorite so Beth and I both took one. Everyone we encountered were actively enjoying their Grapefruit flavored one ("this is so tasty!")  while we were decidedly "meh" about ours. Disappointment #3:  The raffle to meet the Fitness Marshall was poorly executed. The announcer didn't know how to hold his mic so everything he said sounded like the teacher from the Peanuts. Plus our numbers never got called.

I'd like to say that Beth and I were gracious about sitting in the hot sun waiting for our number to be called, but that was not the case. We sighed and groaned as each winning number was called. We ended up sharing our table with a woman who won a spot and in a lovely "pay it forward" moment she offered to let one of us come with her as her "friend". I was happy to give this to Beth as I've met them before but Sharika (our benevolent table-mate) said "you should get in too; you are the Mexico woman!" referring to me meeting them in May in Cancun. The event organizers didn't seem too hip about that but I was able to take advantage of a confusing moment and got a wrist band. Beth likens it to a Jedi mind trick (or what she calls "pulling an Erokan") because as we started to move away the harried woman who was giving out the wrist bands looked around and said "Who's the friend?" and I just stuck my arm out and stared at her. 

Voila. Wrist band procured. I'm the friend.

Now for a revue.

The Sinner - 8-part series on USA Network, 2017

I'm always up for a series that is contained. I like going into something knowing my commitment level. So when I saw ads for The Sinner I was all in. I think in my heart of hearts I was hoping for something of a religious mess.

I really wanted this to be good. All the ads gave it a "there is a fucked up backstory to this that you are not going to want to miss" vibe which intrigued me. Essentially, in the first 15 minutes or so, we see a woman apparently randomly going berserk and killing a guy on a perfectly lovely afternoon at a lake. Then the rest of the show was supposed to be devoted to the "why she did it" and the "how it fucked up her family".

Well. Let me tell you. There is a microsecond about how this affected her husband and toddler son. There is also a bit devoted to her weird family life growing up - her sister was born sickly and her mother was a devout Christian or something, positive that if anyone in the family wasn't completely pious it could affect the sick kid spiritually (for instance, don't eat chocolate because it's indulgent and that sin will make your sister sicker. What??). But the long and the short of it is:  the woman randomly gets caught up with some very bad people and they fuck up her life. She gets a bit brainwashed and it manifests itself in an extremely ugly way.

Yes, I found the story that simple. And it wasn't even like I figured out what the deal was early on. It was just crawling along at a snail's pace and I started to not give a shit. But I had invested time within my extremely busy schedule so I was feeling obligated to see it through to the end. And that pissed me off. I HATE feeling obligated to a TV show.

I kept thinking "you guys could have cut out a BUNCH of inconsequential shit and made it 5 episodes."   There were whole subplots that were useless and went nowhere.  By episode 6, I said to my cats "JEEEZ-us this is moving slow".  Cosmo blinked at me and Finn ran off to pounce his rattle mouse. We were in total agreement.

The two stars of this series were Jessica Beil and Bill Pullman. Neither of them, in my opinion, should carry a series.

Jessica Beil is SUPER VANILLA. Justin Timberlake, what the heck? Was Cameron Diaz such a nut job that you had to go the complete opposite? Half the time I actually can't remember which Jessica she is - Alba, Beil, I can barely tell them apart. I mean, she's beautiful and all but she's SO one note it's hard to remember which note she is. In fact, I felt the best part of her acting was that she didn't wear any makeup throughout the whole series. Brava!

And Bill Pullman. His character in this is a troubled police detective who can't hold on to his marriage and vents his frustration by having kinky sex with a dominatrix. While this should be enough to create a nuanced performance, Bill Pullman looks like he does in everything he's in - slightly squinty and pushing back his hair. I imagine he's thinking "Wow, I can't believe these people keep hiring me! This is awesome. Now if I can only wrap my head around what this plot means I'll be golden."  The dude just strikes me as a little dim. He does have really good hair, though.

(My drink pairing with this is a can or two of the Grapefruit flavored carbonated sake. I hear it's really tasty.)

Presenting your lead actors - No Makeup Jessica and Squinty Bill

My takeaways:

#1 - I need to get over feeling obligated to finish a series I don't like. Even if it's short.

#2 - I actually don't object to Bill Pullman...he was great in Spaceballs.

#3 - A year ago I suggested you all watch a new NBC series called The Good Place. Now I'm suggesting you watch Season 2. It's really great!!  (and no, I'm not biased at all :)

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

Spending a month with Umbridge

Make no mistake people, this cold I've had for the entire month of July has been a BITCH. You would think I had Consumption but I'm not nearly that ethereal or tragic.


The walk in clinic requested I wear this when I was there.

In fact, I've lived with this cough for so long I named it. She's Umbridge (thanks to Beth for helping the naming process), after the evil Harry Potter character who was forever clearing her throat:  "hem hem". My Umbridge has been equally difficult to get rid of.

The only good thing about having a month-long illness (well, if I'm being honest it's not entirely gone) is that Umbridge and I spent some quality couch time catching up on television. I thought I'd fill you in on what I watched.

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt Season 3

13 episodes

Dammit, I love this show! I always worry as each season passes if a show is gonna either jump its proverbial shark or just get...lame. I'm happy to report that, for me, neither happened here. Each character continues to become more nuanced and, as one review points out, Kimmy isn't really the "main" character with the others being a Greek chorus; it's a true ensemble piece. The four original characters, Kimmy, Titus, Jaqueline and Lillian get their own complex storylines and become equally important (although Titus remains my very fave). 

Last New Year's Eve I braved the amateur revelers in SF and saw Tituss Burgess and Jane Krakowski perform together. They were amazing and this season the two had far more screen time together. Winning!  Also, how can you not love a show where a man does his own version of Lemonade when he's feeling jilted, someone is dating Robert Durst, and Maya Rudolph cameos as Dionne Warwick? Pure f-ing gold.

Thumbs way up!

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency Season 1

8 episodes

I had seen the ads for this months ago and Elijah Wood was on my favorite podcast (My Dad Wrote a Porno...check it out if you haven't already! You will thank me.) while they were filming. Additionally, I recently listened to a Dirk Gently book (read by author Douglas Adams, RIP) so I thought it was about time I watched this series. 

I liked this series a lot. Samuel Barnett, who plays Dirk, could not be more charming. He's whimsical and nutty yet there is a great deal of depth to his performance. Elijah Wood is also great (but he kind of always is so I'd be bugged if he was phoning it in) and the bevy of supporting characters were all equal to their tasks. Bart, the holistic assassin, is a particular favorite. 

The story is part detective story, part time travel, part science fiction. There were parts of of episodes where I was like "now what the hell is going on??" but some of that can be blamed on Umbridge, I think. Plus there is an adorable black kitten in it. I'm absolutely looking forward to Season 2 (I see that Alan Tudyk will be in the next season! Squee!).

Thumbs up!

Broadchurch Season 2

8 episodes

I was maybe never going to watch this season. I loved Season 1 but Season 2 looked like it was going to be all courtroom drama (I get enough of that on Law & Order episodes which are on 24/7) and angst. And in fact, I had seen some not so favorable reviews.  But I was lured in by my ever-favorite David Tennant, Eve Myles who was in Torchwood and Jodie Whittaker who is the new, female Doctor Who. It is really like a Who convention because Arthur Darville, Rory - companion to Doctor #11 - is also in it. Get a TARDIS in here and we're all good.

Anyway, I thought "I'm sick, I'll check out one episode and see how it goes." Well, I was immediately hooked. 

Broadchurch is a fictional town in Dorset, England. Many of the transition shots are gorgeous views of steep cliffs and pounding ocean waves (a bit like Poldark without the glorious abs). Tennant's character is a police detective who is all sorts of troubled and his partner's husband was the killer in Season 1 so you can imagine how she's doing. They have a great relationship, though. He is gruff and kind of a pillock and she is constantly giving him shit about his attitude. They are charming together.

The directors did employ a bit of a heavy handed (in my opinion) cinematic trope, however. Every single character in this small coastal town has A LOT going on in their lives and most are a bit duplicitous. Every episode has at least one shot of characters standing near something big and reflective (often it's the court building) so the "there are two sides to every issue" idea is hammered home.

The season has a lot of woman-power moments, culminating in an absolutely matriarchal showdown which did Umbridge's and my heart good.
Thumbs up!

(My drink pairing for all these is coconut water. You need to get your electrolytes.)

My takeaways:

#1 - Thank God for Netflix and On Demand. What did folks with colds do before they existed??

#2 - Please note my use of "pillock" above. I watch so much BBC, I'm assimilating into British culture.

#3 - I'm looking forward to NOT posting about being sick soon.

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

Happy birthday Mom!

Hey all! 

It's that time again - the yearly ode to my mother. Today is her birthday so naturally I am thinking about her a lot. I've also been sick for the last couple weeks (a nasty, lingering wheezy cough that resulted in me getting antibiotics AND an inhaler) which always makes me miss her. Because she was really amazing when I was sick. And when I was little I was kind of sick a lot.

By the time I was 6, I had broken an arm and a leg. I think these are the ones that were most annoying to her because I had old school plaster casts that would probably mold and disintegrate in water. She had to cover them in plastic to bathe me. When I broke my leg, my cast was all the way to my hip so I wasn't mobile, which is the kiss of death for a 3 or 4 year old. I remember one instance where she was doing laundry or something at the back of the house and I was bored so I dragged this massive cast down the long hallway to her (which could have probably broken the cast and/or hindered my healing). She had to carry me back to the family room and was not pleased. Poor Mom.

I'm pretty sure that's a fake smile.

I also got Mono when I was in Kindergarten (my dad was like WTF??) which kept me bedridden for a month. Also, apparently one of the "prescriptions" was for me to eat a chocolate bar a day (thank you 1960's medicine!!). I am still not the biggest fan of chocolate (I like it but it's not a necessity) but back then I didn't like it at all so she had a hard time shoveling this into me on a daily basis. I think it was also irritating to her because she was forever dieting and likely would have preferred to just have eaten it herself.

When I was 8ish I had pneumonia. I remember some assignment for school (maybe like "writing my autobiography") where I mentioned it and she was both amused and proud that I could spell pneumonia correctly at such a young age.

I also had the regular assortment of kid issues. One time, when I had the stomach flu in the middle of the night, she hopped up to help me and broke her pinky toe on her bed frame. That is some serious dedication. 

Athena Erokan nursemaid staples:

• The number one remedy in any Greek household is Avgolemono soup. OMG, it's the nectar of the Gods. She made a kick ass soup, using vermicelli instead or rice or orzo, allowing for maximum spaghetti-slurping. Divine! I have only just recently learned to make it properly - which according to my cousin Cynthia requires some kissing noises over the pot as you are pouring the eggs in. It's what our Yiayia did so it's SCIENCE.
• Whenever anyone had stomach issues, my mom would go out to the side yard of our San Jose home which was completely overgrown with a ton of weeds (in fact, my dad wouldn't even let the grandchildren play in that part of the yard cuz it was kind of hazardous). She’d  zero in on the one weedy plant she needed and pick fresh mint. Then she'd make us the best mint tea ever which always settled my stomach.
• When I had to stay home from school, particularly during the Mono month, my mom would set up the sofa bed in the family room, which faced the TV. She'd prop me up with a bunch of pillows, water, a barf bowl if that was required and turn on the cartoons. Or whatever was on in the middle of the day back then (talk shows, Guiding Light). This is very possibly how I cultivated my love of cop shows...Mannix was my favorite when I was little.

So let's raise a Manhattan (or mint tea if you are on my antibiotics regimen) to my mom on her birthday. I miss her every day of the year and maybe just a little bit more today.

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

HBD, Mom!

Amadeus Hamilton...wait, what?

OMG gang!  I finally saw Hamilton last week and I loved it. 

Wow the music!

Wow the staging!

Wow the everything!

So much good.

Many of you may know that I'm a MASSIVE fan of Les Miserables, I've seen it multiple times in multiple venues (once in London!). This show didn't displace Les Miz from its #1 spot, but I will say it nestled right up there next to it.

There is no way I'd "revue" the show. I'm not a theatre critic, nor am I a music critic. All I can say is the entire spectacle affected me profoundly. I'm sure I learned a fair amount of this is grade school, right? I'm embarrassed to say not much of Hamilton's influence on our country stuck with me post 5th grade, though. After the performance, I mentioned that for the new generation this is like a much longer, much more intense SchoolHouse Rock. Now it's gonna stick, like Conjunction Junction and I'm Just a Bill. (Or if you're still feeling patriotic after the 4th, watch this!)

I did a bit more "prep" for this Broadway musical than normal. I had listened to the soundtrack before seeing it and I also read (okay, listened to - don't judge) a book called Hamilton: A Revolution, which is about the making of the show. It's fun and informative if you like that sort of thing.

I was driving from LA to the Bay Area with my niece the weekend before I saw Hamilton and as we were talking about her experience seeing it, I started to think that what she was saying about the show was reminding me a lot of the film (originally a play) Amadeus. So I thought I'd re-watch that old classic and see if my thoughts are completely unfounded.

Amadeus (released in 1984)

I loved this movie when it came out. Tom Hulce was a total nut in his portrayal of the pink-wigged Mozart and F. Murray Abraham was wonderful as the pious yet extremely jealous Salieri. Milos Forman's vision of this story captured audience's imaginations immediately and it was a huge hit. Not unlike Hamilton.

Here are a few of the things that struck me as interestingly similar (at least interesting to me).

Similarity #1:

To a different degree, both pieces represented their historical time period with a distinctly modern feeling. Mozart and Hamilton were born right around the same year (Mozart was born in 1756 and Hamilton was either '55 or '57 - both in January). Everyone knows how Lin-Manuel Miranda modernized Hamilton - adding all sorts of different musical styles to represent different characters and time periods. Amadeus' modernization was far subtler but still stood out to me. Typically, in period films, everyone dons an English accent - even in the movie Troy which took place in 12th Century BC Greece, for crying out loud (Brad Pitt should be ashamed of himself for that accent). In Amadeus, everyone spoke with their native accent. It was SO refreshing to hear Emperor Joseph ll, ruler of the Austrian dominions sound just like Mr. Rooney from Ferris Bueller's Day Off.  

Similarity #2:

Both Mozart and Hamilton were absolute geniuses. 

Hamilton rose from the humblest beginnings (born out of wedlock, orphaned very young) by his extreme intelligence and scrappiness. He was running a business by his early teenage years.

Mozart never had to work that hard (plus it seemed like he chose not to). He was a musical prodigy, composing his first pieces when he was 5. I mean, Mozart's full name was Johannes Chrysostomos Wolfgangus Theophilius Mozart.  He chose the cut down version Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Amadeus being the Latin translation of Theophilius - both translate to Love of God. I imagine he knew he was pretty cool.

Neither backed down from their convictions or from how they envisioned their world to be and both clearly made their mark on history.

Similarity #3:

Awards!  Amadeus was up for 53 awards that year and won 40. The film won 8 of the 11 Oscars it was up for including Best Picture, Actor (Abraham) and Director. Hamilton was nominated for over 50 awards on the Broadway production (also nominated for a bunch as an off-Broadway production) and won 10 of the 16 Tonys it was up for, including Best Musical, Actor, Original Score and Choreographer. Wow!

 

Similarity #4:

This is the similarity that struck me most strongly - the reason I even thought about this post.

Both of these stories are narrated by the protagonist's biggest rival. 

I know Amadeus is HIGHLY fictionalized (in fact, there is no real proof that Salieri hated Mozart or thought he killed him but it makes a dang good story) but I find this a really compelling story-telling tool. It allows the audience to see the protagonist with a critical eye as well as giving a sympathetic depiction of the rival. It gives us more nuance.

It is almost heartbreaking to watch both Salieri and Burr know that they excel in their fields and are good men, yet are consistently thwarted (at least that is how they perceive it) by these other men; feeling deep down that they can never ascend to the heights that Mozart and Hamilton can.

This is especially clear with Salieri. He laments that he has devoted his life to God in payment for the music God has given him. Yet Mozart (or "the Creature" as he calls him) continually creates beautiful, heavenly music while being a crass and lazy man. How can that possibly be fair?

(My drink pairing for both of these is a double Gin and Tonic. They are both super long so you want to be fortified.)

My takeaways:

#1 - I would have liked to have seen Amadeus the play. While I love the way they treat the musical soundtrack in the film - like we are listening in to Mozart's thoughts - it would be cool to see this live, I think.

#2 - Both pieces ended with a small sound. Amadeus ended with Tom Hulce's signature Amadeus laugh and Hamilton ended with Eliza's gasp. Both endings were extremely effective to me. It's like that one small sound gathered everything that happened and put a period on the end of it.

xoxo....hashtagSueslife

RIP Roger Moore

I try to be the kind of person who honors a promise. Like most people, there are times I fail at this, but I do try. It occurs to me that writing something on social media becomes a public documentation of your promise. Yikes. So, on Facebook, I promised my brother Dennis I would write about Roger Moore. Here we go.

Roger Moore passed away this May, another in the inevitable progression of celebrity deaths. He was dearly loved in his role as James Bond. My very first post was about James Bond, in fact (those of you who have stuck with this goofy "blog" from the get-go may remember that). I watched one movie per Bond (not including David Niven or Daniel Craig...I keep meaning to do a post about the Casino Royale films specifically but now it's been 2 years and clearly I haven't done that yet) and revue'd. Below is a portion of what I wrote then:

Roger Moore

Octopussy - released in 1983

Double O

I chose Octopussy for my Roger Moore Bond installment for the sole reason that when I was in India I was in the city of Udaipur, where they filmed some of the exteriors.  My guide in Udaipur told me this and I've been wanting to see it ever since.

I'm going to come right out and say that I'm not a huge fan of Roger Moore's Bond.  He's so...quippy.  Like all the time.  I don't mind the occasional pun or goofy joke, but honestly there were points when I wanted to just slap him and say "James, take this shit seriously for Chrissake!!"  No wonder Q is always so annoyed with him.  I don't blame him. Plus he just looks so stuffy British.  Apparently Moore was voted "Best Bond" by the Academy so clearly I don't conform to popular opinion.  He had the longest Bond career at 12 years and was the oldest guy to take the role.

I write a lot about the plot, then this:

Anyway, there are a ton of chase scenes (mostly with a stunt double, I'd guess...we almost never see James' face and Roger Moore moves like an old man, quite honestly) and James finally sleeps with Octopussy, then he gets the bad guy.  There is one alarming moment when James is sliding down a banister that has a finial.  He realizes he's gonna hit it crotch-first so he shoots it off.  The alarming part is that it still looked jagged so I was worried about his nethers. James ends the film in a clown outfit to chase the bad guys so it all comes full circle.

(My pairing for this film is a nice, refreshing lassi.  Your choice of flavor.)

You might feel that I'm a bit harsh on Moore's Bond. He was 56 years old when this film was released so maybe my "moves like an old man" comments are unkind but I call it like I see it. 

I knew Moore was in the TV series The Saint (I was mistaken in thinking it was his first role...in actuality it probably was more like his first big break but he was in a bunch of TV series in the 60s) so I thought I'd watch that as a sample from his early career and something else from late in his career to see if my opinion of him changes at all.

I like to tell a story chronologically, so let's start with early career, shall we?

The Saint (1962 - 1969)

I feel like I've seen some Saint episodes in color (reruns) but for this I thought I'd watch the very first episode "The Talented Husband".  Totes black and white.

Roger Moore was always handsome and even as a 35 year old he had the air of a British prep school boy. His hair was pomaded within an inch of its life, but if it was flopping over his eyes he'd be the precursor to Hugh Grant. 

He is already honing his quippiness-as-an-acting-tool method which is exacerbated by the fact that the character breaks the fourth wall at the beginning of the episode and talks to the audience.

I liked this episode. It's completely over-acted by everyone. Moore is witty and charming and handsome. It's big plot surprise/reveal is completely not surprising. I chalk this up to maybe the innocence of the time. Or maybe it's better to call it the "jaded-ness" of my time. A thespian husband trying to kill his rich wife ever so politely in a picturesque British hamlet doesn't quite compare to weekly murders by serial killers on the gritty streets of New York City.

(My drink pairing for this episode is a dry vodka martini, 3 olives. Preferably ordered at a bar in the theatre district.)

I love this graphic.

Baby I can see your halo...you know you're my saving grace.

And now for the later career.

A Princess for Christmas (released in 2011)

This film is listed as Roger Moore's last film. I debated what to watch from later in his career. I really wanted to watch Ffolkes, because I remember liking it back in the day, but it wasn't on any of my streaming channels (irritating). My search was narrowed to this film, Boat Trip (he plays a gay man) or Cats & Dogs: Revenge of Kitty Galore (he voices a 007 type cat character).  Boat Trip and Cats & Dogs both got severely panned (honestly, many of Moore's films didn't do well by Rotten Tomatoes standards) so I chose Princess. This was a TV movie so I couldn't find it on any site like Rotten Tomatoes. Let me give you all a piece of advice. If you can't find it rated, be wary.

It's a Hallmark movie and believe me, I'm not saying that disparagingly. I spend every Thanksgiving in Boston staying with my dear cousin, Cynthia. We do all sorts of fun things - prepping for Thanksgiving, going to the Greek Christmas Ball, we even hit a museum last year. The best thing we do, however, my favorite part really - is the day after Thanksgiving. We curl up on the couches with doggies and blankets (bonus points if it snows) and watch HOURS of Hallmark Christmas movies. I don't mean a couple movies. I mean it becomes our day job. Her husband, Joe, comes and goes. The only reason we rise from the couch is if we have to pee, if the dogs have to pee or if we're hungry. It's perfect.

All that just to exemplify that I know my Hallmark movies. Sure, they are horrifyingly formulaic but mostly they are fun. And I really hate to say it but this one was total crap. The heroine is a woman from Buffalo played by an Irish actress. She always sounds stilted, probably because she can't get the accent right. The children in it are kind of assholes that never quite redeem themselves. The hero is played by the guy who plays Jaime Fraser on Outlander. Normally HOT HOT HOT. In this...meh (I sent a photo of him to Beth while I was watching remarking that he looks better with his longer, unkempt Jaime hair. In this he's clean-cut and looks about 10 years old). Also, they have ZERO chemistry. They each looked like they were kissing a board. With splinters. 

Roger Moore plays a Duke. He's too old, quite frankly, to be quippy in this. He has all the stateliness of a Royal so I guess you could say he was the one redeeming part of this film. Which, sadly, wasn't enough to actually redeem this film.

(My drink pairing for this movie is a gin & tonic. Apparently, this is a favorite of Royals in general.)

My takeaways:

#1 - Even though I feel like a shithead saying I'm not a big Roger Moore fan, I don't feel that I should sugarcoat things on my "blog". Right?

#2 - Roger Moore started his career as a model. He did so many ads for knitwear that he earned the nickname "The Big Knit". I'd like to have a chat about creativity with whoever gave him that nickname.

#3 - Moore was married 3 times - twice to woman older than he. Nice going, ladies!!

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

The Keepers

**Warning: Spoilers below. Read at your own risk.  :)

I just finished watching the true crime HBO documentary series The Keepers last night.  My reaction was "Huh". Do you know which "Huh" I mean? It's the one where you look at a piece of art in a museum and think "I don't really like that piece. Wait, something is intriguing, maybe I do. Hmm, can't tell."  Huh.

I'm a fan of this type of series. I loved The Jinx about Robert Durst (I now have the added amazement that an old friend of my brother was a secret witness recently. I had no idea there was any connection. Also, to exemplify how poorly we take care of our witnesses, he was highly guarded before and during his testimony, then immediately afterward was sent off - all alone- with basically a "thanks for playing, good luck out there") Robert Durst was fucked up from the get go - from  when his father called him outside to watch his mother on the roof of their house threatening to jump, all the way to the end where he talked to himself SO much he basically confessed in a bathroom, not realizing his mic was still live.

I also really enjoyed Making a Murderer. We ponder the case of Stephen Avery in this one. Is he innocent? Is he guilty? Is he both? The answer remains controversial, which is a frustrating ending to any series but I still felt that the filmic journey worth it. Things don't always wind up neat and tidy, no matter how many TV crime shows we watch. And that's okay.

Now let's get to The Keepers. 

We loosely follow two women who went to Archbishop Keough Catholic High School in Baltimore. Their favorite teacher, Sister Cathy was murdered in the late 60s and it's never been solved. Around the same time, another young girl (not a nun) was also murdered in a similar fashion. Also unsolved. Then in the 90s, one of their classmates recovered memories and a whole scandal comes out about how a priest at the school (horrifyingly, he was in a guidance counselor position) was abusing many, many girls over many years. These elements are a great recipe for a juicy true crime series.

The women we follow, Abbie and Gemma, are adorably sassy women who were always troubled by the murder and wanted to dig deeper into what happened. In an almost Jessica Fletcher-type burst of investigative prowess, they dig deep, do a ton of research and try their hardest to find a link from the murder of Sister Cathy to the abuse. Did she know? Was she going to expose what was going on? Is that why she died?

This is a really plausible explanation. The problem is that there is very little (and I mean VERY little) evidence supporting anything. Not to mention the other similar murder in which the victim has no real ties to the school or the scandal. Evidence was "lost" (which the show implies could be sinister but I think also could be shoddy police work + 50 years ago filing systems) and - let's face it, we're talking about the Church in a highly religious town - some shit is buried deep and our girls won't ever get to it.

Many of the suspects or folks that had insight are dead. Abbie and Gemma bust their asses to find Sister Cathy's younger sister, suspects that were still alive, etc. They kicked serious Jessica Fletcher ass.

My issue, my "Huh", I think is with the filmmakers.

They are tackling two massive issues. There is the murder of two young women at approximately the same time. There is a Catholic priest abusing children over the course of his entire career. I believe their intent was to show the possible links between these two issues, but what I was left with was neither story getting it's full due. Plus, there seems to be some holes that I felt should have been explored:

• Did anyone ever look into a possible serial killer in the area? Did they look in surrounding cities for murders with similar M.O. to see if the person had moved on? 
• Why did they leave the interview with an abused kid from another school the abuser priest worked at to the LAST EPISODE? I didn't feel introducing something like that at the end is good storytelling. I was like "now who the fuck is THIS?"
• Additionally, there was plenty of footage about Sister Cathy's best friend/probably boyfriend. We find out - also late in the series - that they seriously looked at him as a suspect AND there was a letter to him from Sister Cathy where she tells him she loves him and kind of implies that they had had sex and maybe was worried that she was pregnant. The filmmakers always implied he might have known more than he said, yet he showed up in a spotty manner throughout the episodes.

Needless to say, I was a bit frustrated by the end.

There was no moment that I didn't fully believe the abuse had happened (goes to show you my thoughts on priests in the Catholic church) so what I wanted more of - or something more concrete - was evidence of a conspiracy. Because honestly the abuse is story enough.

Sometimes a cigar is a cigar and sometimes a murder isn't connected to the abuse scandal, no matter how hard you try to prove it. And in the end, that's okay. I just felt the filmmakers could have presented a more elegant method of getting to this conclusion.

Perhaps their intent was to leave their audience with far more questions than they walked in with (like The Making of a Murderer, or Serial for that matter). I just didn't find it satisfying, yet it's stuck with me enough to want to write about it.  Huh.

(My drink pairing for this entire series was Ginger and Turmeric tea with lemon.  I have a cold.)

My takeaways:

#1 - Maybe I've watched too many TV crime series and fancy myself an investigator.

#2 - Beth mentioned to me that she could totally see us being an Abbie/Gemma investigative team - so if you have any mysteries you want solved, let us know.

#3 - No matter how grumpy I sound about this series I still was all in while watching it.

xoxo....hashtagSueslife

Where in the world have I been?

Dudes. 

Work has been crazy and, in all honesty, I haven't watched any noteworthy movies. I was, however, able to sneak a couple days of vacation into my nutso schedule. So this installment is going to be a bit more of a travelogue than a revue (although opinions will be included).

Sunday I got home from a 4 day, all-inclusive resort fitness weekend in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. 

Nice, right?

When I was in Malaysia last November visiting my friends Rachel and Stefan, Rachel suggested that we do this fitness weekend in May. It was with the Fitness Marshall, who is a You Tube workout/dance guru who has become an international sensation.  

So even though it felt weird to book a vacation while I was on vacation, I agreed and we got our tickets. Rachel and I both expected this to be huge - like a-couple-hundred-people-huge - so we were pleasantly surprised when we arrived to discover that it was capped at 25 participants! Actually, Rachel was so shocked that it took nearly 24 hours for it to sink in.

It was truly amazing to dance up close and personal with the Fitness Marshall. There were so few people that we all got a chance to have a real conversation or two and a shot of tequila (or several) with him. He is just as charming, energetic and charismatic as he seems in his videos.

Post class sweaty group

We cleaned up good for the final night.

I had never been on this kind of vacation before, so it was also really fun to connect with all these people from all over the country who came to Mexico to work out. There were several classes a day (yoga, workouts in the pool, other dance classes) and then we all got to dance the nights away at the resort nightclub.

But every silver lining has some wispy clouds, right? So here are a few of the good/bad things about my weekend.

• The resort, Occidental at Xcaret, has a 700 person capacity so it is enormous. It was difficult to navigate around, however, because most of the buildings look exactly alike. In fact, even much of the staff wasn't able to point us toward specific buildings or pools.
• The aforementioned nightclub was fun (Rachel was a bit bummed that much of the music was from 30 years ago, but I enjoyed it :) and in typical vacation manner, some guests went a bit overboard. There was one man at the nightclub on our first night that was SO hammered I thought he might fall off the small stage he insisted on dancing atop. He spilled his drink on his shirt and then, suspiciously, the front of his pants was also wet. I believe it was a "liquids in, liquids out" scenario. Disappointingly his friends didn't take him home at that point and he was back at the club the next night!  Kudos to him for sheer willpower. And let's all hope he rinsed out those pants.
• The food was underwhelming in the extreme and, oddly, some of the waitstaff was quite surly. Rachel and I had a completely unsatisfying dinner at one restaurant so went to another to try a second dinner. One of our dance-mates came with us but only wanted to get dessert. When she only ordered a piece of cheesecake (which was so small it was comical) the waiter was momentarily stumped, then angrily grabbed her plate and silverware (leaving only a small fork) and walked away before Rachel and I had even ordered (he did come back). It was truly odd and the worst part about it was that it was probably the best meal we had (and by best I mean that it was edible enough that we didn't leave half of it on the plate).

My reaction to most of our meals.

• One of the coolest things about the resort is that there is a ton of wildlife roaming around. Rachel nearly stepped on a huge iguana and I almost walked into a grazing deer. We also saw a young buck with antlers that hadn't yet lost their fuzz and a bunch of monkeys (we think spider and howler) in the trees. What we DIDN'T expect to see, however, were snakes. We saw two. The first slithered by and Rachel yelled "Fuck, a snake!!" which caused another woman to drop the scuba equipment she was holding and jump nearly a foot straight up. The second we saw literally fell out of a tree right in front of us. Rachel yelled something like "Did a fucking snake just fall out of that tree??"  followed closely by "That's it. I'm out." Thankfully we were checking out immediately after that.
• We also had a close encounter with something I think was related to a possum. It was in our open-air building, standing in front of the room next to ours. We were all in a rather narrow hallway and started edging toward each other. He was eyeing us and I was trying to speak in a calm manner. "Hey buddy," I said. "Please don't bite us." We were eye to eye at that point. I took a step toward our room and he ran off down the hall toward the lobby. Phew.

Monkeys...

Iguanas...

And deer...oh my!

In all honesty, I wouldn't go back to that resort. But I would absolutely do another fitness weekend. And if it was Fitness Marshall again - sign me up immediately!

(My drink pairing for this entire event is a Miami Vice. I know you would have probably bet money that I'd pair a margarita, but this is a marvelous blended concoction that I just discovered - half Pina Colada, half Strawberry Daiquiri. So refreshing and perfect for the swim up pool bar, which is where many were consumed.)

My takeaways:

#1 - Rachel has been traveling for just over a year and clearly has a new and wonderful perspective on life. She was wondering aloud what day it was and answered her own question with "May."

#2 - Doing cardio in 85 degree heat with 100% humidity is heroic and stupid all at once.

#3 - Thanks again to Nonie Rand for putting together such a well done event. If you are ever looking for a fitness vacation, check her out at Mind Body Spirit Vacations:  

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

Hanging with the Fitness Marshall!

White Buffalo Day

Huh? you may ask. 

White Buffalo Day is a yearly honoring of my dear friend Beth's father. Sadly, he passed away a few years ago so every year on his birthday we try to watch a movie he'd enjoy and raise a glass to his memory. One of his all-time favorites was White Buffalo (released in 1977, staring Charles Bronson); thus the day was named. I know I watched this film with Beth and honestly it might have been the amount of alcohol we were drinking, but I don't remember much of it. I do remember it being long.

His birthday was last week, so this year we went for another favorite - 

They Might Be Giants. Released in 1971.

Terrible, terrible tag line! I am certain no hearts were touched.

Beth has consented to be my Blogguest (not sure why this hasn't happened before since she shows up in this blog a lot but there you go), so here are our thoughts on this 70s masterpiece.

And by masterpiece, I mean a movie you probably have never heard of. I hadn't. Let me share the online synopsis with you to get the ball rolling:

After the death of his wife, wealthy retiree Justin Playfair (George C. Scott) creates a fantasy world for himself in which he is the legendary detective Sherlock Holmes, even dressing like the character. Out of concern for Justin's money more than his health, his brother Blevins puts him under the care of psychiatrist Dr. Mildred Watson (Joanne Woodward). As Dr. Watson grows fond of Justin, she begins to play along with his theories, eventually becoming an assistant in his investigations.

SUE:  First of all, how did I not realize his brother's name was BLEVINS PLAYFAIR?? Poor kid. I'd be pissed at my brother with the normal name too.

BETH:  My dad was a huge George C. Scott fan. The ONLY Christmas Carol adaptation allowed in the Masse household was the George C. Scott version. 

He was also a huge Sherlock Holmes fan. I still have the two-volume "Complete Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle" anthology that he gave me ages ago. So he must have been SO excited when this movie came out, a marriage of the great actor and the great detective. We had a VHS copy of this movie that my dad would watch from time to time. I barely remembered the plot, so I must have "watched" this movie like I "watched" a lot of my dad's fave movies, meaning I was in the same room but with my nose buried in a book. My mother also had this movie-watching strategy. I don't recall how she felt about this movie in particular but a lot of my dad's film choices were met by eye-rolling in my family.

That's not to say he didn't pick some great stuff--my dad introduced me to South Park, Heathers, The X Files, Twin Peaks, They Live, Star Trek...but he was a quirky man, and his movie watching reflected that.

Wow, George C. Scott looked almost attractive in this movie! I mean, he was always distinguished looking in his movies, but he was also usually a bit portly and jowly. (Sorry George.) In contrast, they really made Joanne Woodward look plain. I guess an ATTRACTIVE female doctor in the 1970s was too much to believe.

It didn't help that they added a romantic storyline in all this, when Holmes and Watson had ZERO chemistry. 

SUE:  Agreed! Which was probably exacerbated by the fact that the script is kind of weak. I'm going to chalk this up to why it didn't do so well at the time. Don't get me wrong, they were both amazing actors and great in their respective roles...just no chemistry.

BETH:  There's an uncomfortable scene where she invites him over to dinner--after he's made a point of noticing that she can't cook--and she spends what feels like hours poking at various bubbling pots on the stove, interspersed with shots of her getting into a white dress reminiscent of a wedding gown and trying (and failing) to put on false eyelashes (you should have heard the yelling in the room--"you have NO OTHER MAKE UP ON, but you're putting on false lashes? Without any eyelash glue?"). Obviously the whole thing is a complete failure and she almost sets the apartment on fire and she has to admit that she has failed at being a woman and the whole thing raised all of my feminist hackles. Um, you are a DOCTOR, which is awesome, so send out for some takeout and hire a house cleaner and don't worry so much about society's idea about what a real woman can do. But, it was a different era, I suppose. 

SUE:  And what was weird to me is that all of a sudden and without warning she changes her mind on how she behaves with him. First she's the doctor haranguing him to answer her psychological questions and then she loves him? There really isn't a moment when she's truly professional with him.

Both Holmes and Watson tell each other "I love you" at different points, but each time the statement is said with no emotion. More like a statement of fact. There is no physical affirmation of this love either. As my book club can attest, I'm not always a fan of this "subtlety" thing. If it's a book about the zombie apocalypse someone better goddamn get bitten. If it's a love story, someone better kiss.

BETH:  The brother (BLEVINS!)  is a one-note character almost not worth mentioning, even though he's the impetus for Watson and Holmes to get together. In the first scene where Blevins gets the blackmail money demand and then the whole family bursts in on him, he seems wholly unconcerned that his wife has come into the room where he's got an envelope containing a bunch of blackmail photographs of him with some other woman, which I thought was odd--I mean, don't you want to put that envelope under something? But then it becomes apparent that we aren't supposed to think too much of her intellect, which is further evidenced by her outfit--some sort of yellow fluffy maribou lingerie that makes her resemble a baby chick. Who just wears that around the house, during the day, with other people around? I said "That woman looks like a young Rue McClanahan" and then watched the whole rest of the movie without realizing that it WAS a young Rue McClanahan. She was pretty adorable, and nice to Holmes, so even though we as the audience are supposed to think she's dumb, I liked her.

SUE:  Neither of us recognized her! In fact, I was thinking she was the Suffragette mother from Mary Poppins. Whoops. Sorry Glynis Johns. 

Almost everyone in this is a character actor you'd recognize, though, even the guy who plays the hot dog vendor (Paul Benedict from Goodbye Girl and Spinal Tap!). An online reviewer wrote "One of the hidden pleasures of many lesser-known Seventies films is that they gave a bevy of New York's best character actors a day or two of work."

And on the subject of women in this film, this happened:

Holmes:  Did you enjoy your first detective work?

Watson;  No.

Holmes:  Come on, I know girls. No means yes.

Oh no - he did NOT say that.  Sigh.  Fuck off, 70s.

BETH:  So Holmes and Watson traipse around a very dirty 70s New York City and have adventures. A lot of it was very surreal, causing all of us to yell "What?" at various intervals. 

SUE:  One review speaks to how this film needed the audience to have the naïveté of audiences in the 40's - and this was in 1971. So you can imagine how disconnected it is now. Another wrote:  "Whimsy-impaired audiences of the 70's probably said "Whaaa?"  We are clearly a product of our whimsy-deficient times because we all certainly yelled "Wha?" plenty of times. 

BETH:  One of those encounters was at the telephone company; Holmes marches them right in some sort of service entrance and the two of them have bizarre interactions with the telephone operators, some random woman who's looking for some guy's address (but the operators won't talk to her unless she's on a phone, so she calls them from a phone in the same room), and then a security guard, all in the pursuit of some mythical clue that will lead them to imaginary arch-nemesis Moriarty. At first Watson is the straight-person, there to examine Holmes and take notes, but it really doesn't take that long before she embraces the crazy too. At one point they go to a movie theater and she loses a shoe (because the floor is so sticky? Ew) and my hypothesis was that she absorbed some crazy in the bottom of her foot, because she was never the same again after that shoe loss. 

Then there is the ending of this film. Beth and I felt similarly about it. 

BETH:  Anyway, this all culminates in a parade of all the freaks from the entire film marching through New York. 

SUE:  I thought it was a Buckaroo Banzai moment near the end when they are all marching toward the perceived threat (which is the guy trying to get him committed and the brother?) (A reviewer called it Fellini-esque.  Goes to show you how NOT highbrow I am. Ha.)

BETH:  Then Holmes and Watson go (alone--the freaks just sort of disappear at one point) to the park to face off with "Moriarty", but really we just see a bright light on their faces and hear horses' hooves and...end movie. I guess it's up to our imagination what happens? It seems to me like we're supposed to think they died, but perhaps I'm just being macabre.

SUE:  As stated above, there were several moments when I felt the need to verbalize "wha?" but mostly at the end. Holmes and Watson are staring into a tunnel, listening to the sound of horse hooves getting louder and louder and a light on their faces getting brighter and brighter. End scene. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

In my research, I found many who specifically wrote about said ending. One was trying to make me believe that by Dr Watson buying into Holmes' fantasy it is their love realized. I might have to call bullshit on this.

BETH:  Sue turned to me after the movie and said, "Jim Masse was DEEP." and I had to agree with her.

**I'd like to point out that Beth's husband Todd would have been more featured in this blog except for the fact that he watched about 5 minutes of the movie, quickly moved to playing with his iPad, then eventually toppled over and fell asleep.

I only met Jim Masse once, but I've heard stories about him over the years that made me wish I had gotten to know him. I asked Beth to send me a favorite memory of her dad to include here so we all get a bit of him. Because he definitely was a character.

BETH:  And finally, a memory (just one, but really, I had so many to choose from):

My father LOVED a good bargain. The first time I brought Todd home for a holiday (Thanksgiving? Christmas?), my dad suggested that we all take a late-afternoon/early evening drive to see snow on the nearby hills. We packed turkey sandwiches, drinks, etc., and did the "Masse driving tour" of said hills, which involved whizzing by them, stopping at one place to take photos, and then eventually ending up at what I realized was our REAL destination--a La-Z-boy store that was having a sale. 

We wandered through the store and my dad started working on the salesman, asking about deals, etc. My dad picked out the couch he wanted, and then we all exited the store to go to the car and eat sandwiches while my dad decided his next move. Then we saw the door of the store open--the salesman came out of the store and began approaching our car. 

My dad yelled, "DROP THE SANDWICHES! DROP THE SANDWICHES!", which is absolutely my favorite Jim Masse quote ever. Todd and I quickly stuffed our sandwiches back into their ziplock bags, but my mother was so startled she literally dropped her sandwich on the floor of the car, rendering it inedible. (I'm not sure why the salesman couldn't see us eating but apparently it wasn't a part of the narrative my father was crafting about this shopping trip for the salesman.)

My dad rolled down his window and the salesman told him about some deal he'd decided to give us on the couch. My dad told him he had to talk it over with my mom and that he'd come in and let him know what their decision was. After the salesman went back inside, my dad looked at my mom and instructed her, "OK, I'm going back in there, and no matter what I do, DON'T come inside the store after me. I might come to the door and wave you in, but DON'T come in." This was all part of my dad's ruse that my mother was the heavy in the family, and that my dad had to sweet talk her into buying this couch. I guess this was supposed to be a way for my dad to convince the store to offer us an even better deal, to appease the stingy wife? 

My mother rolled her eyes and my dad went in the store. My family was used to having to "act" in order to help my dad finagle deals--once I had to pretend to be mad at my dad in order to get a deal from a Dell computer salesman--so really, my mom wasn't surprised.

Todd observed all this silently. (He still married me after this, so it wasn't enough of a warning sign, I guess.) 

Thankfully, my mother didn't have to bust out her Oscar award-winning performance as "mean wife," because my dad was satisfied with whatever deal they offered him, so he just bought the couch, arranged to have it delivered, and came back out the car, smug. We went home and my mom finally got to eat. She still has that couch.

(Jim Masse drink pairing:   I think would have to be a "Fuzzy Navel," a drink whose name amused my dad so much he had to go out and buy all the ingredients to make it as soon as he heard about it. I believe it involved peach schnapps and orange juice? I think he made just one and thought it was terrible (because it was). So, along with the couch, I believe my mother also still has that same bottle of peach schnapps.)

Happy birthday, Jim Masse, from all of us.

xoxo...hashtagSueslife