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

I Got Carded at a Rave: A Cautionary Tale on Growing Old Gracefully

I had kind of an amazing weekend so I thought I would share it with you all.

I went to a rave.

This is the first rave I've been to in many, many years. I attended a couple (back in the day when the venue had to be secret) when I was a belly dancer. I remember one in particular that we performed at. I was dancing on top of a platform behind the DJ and at one point I looked down to see a couple having sex behind the stage.  At least they were behind the stage, right? As I was looking at all the young people this weekend it occurred to me that one of them might be the offspring of that coupling. It could happen.

The rave I was at this weekend was called Beyond Wonderland. There were similarities and differences from the raves of my youth. Similar: Everyone is on their drug of choice and tripping HARD. Difference: This rave had a full bar (glorious). And lots of vending. I don't remember either of those back in my day. Also, I don't remember them having names, but that could be because it was 1000 years ago and I'm old.

I went because my dear friend (and frequent Blogguest) Lisa really wanted to go for her birthday. Never one to deny a friend a birthday wish or turn down an adventure, I packed some old belly dance costuming and my weight in glitter and flew down to San Bernardino. I will admit, in hindsight, that I was a bit unprepared for what I found.

When all was said and done, Lisa and I ended up naming our adventure Beyond Shackleton. We felt as if we'd ventured into unchartered (for us) territory and came back the richer for it. I researched Ernest Shackleton and found this quote that I believe is pretty apt: "For scientific leadership, give me Scott; for swift and efficient travel, Amundsen; but when you are in a hopeless situation, when there seems to be no way out, get down on your knees and pray for Shackleton." True dat.  

Here is some insight into our own personal frozen ship.

• Aren't old people cute?
• I arrived Friday night, costumed up and headed to the event to meet Lisa.  At the entrance there were signs about presenting tickets and ID. Seriously? But I didn't want to be the asshole who has to rummage in her bag because I thought they wouldn't check. These people have jobs to do and I didn't want to get in their way. So I get up to the front and take one look at the infant who's taking my ticket. I lift my ticket and ID with a big grin and she looks at me, grins back and says "I'm gonna check your ID!" so I responded "And I'm gonna give you a hug!"  (I also got carded at the bar. The excuse was that my license could be expired. Quick thinking, Puppy!) While this "look at the old person at the rave" is charming the first time, it lost its luster almost immediately. And trust me, we got a lot of it. Girls touching our faces - I'm sure it's amazing to feel wrinkles - and boys hugging us. They were just so happy to see people our age out and about (and they were tripping their asses off). One youngster said "Oh! I love seeing old ravers." We knew she meant it from the heart, but honestly. Lisa and I started joking about how they must be thinking "I wonder who took them out of the convalescent home and brought them here? Where did they store their walkers? So sweet!!"
• Um, what are you wearing?
• While I saw the requisite animal costumes and shiny Betabrand stuff, what really surprised me was what a majority of the young girls were wearing. Or were NOT wearing. I have never seen so many bare ass cheeks in my life since I was at that hamam in Istanbul. They were all essentially wearing thong underwear with some strips of fabric wrapped around their legs (I'm not sure if these were attached to anything, actually). I admit to saying some very Mom-like things about this along the lines of "Those aren't clothes!!"  And while everyone wasn't dressing to enhance their actual body type, I applaud the self confidence of all the girls who were running around in bras, thong panties and glitter. Honestly, Lisa and I looked like nuns in comparison because we were wearing *actual* clothes.

"Actual clothes" include hats!

• Adventures in transportation
• I took Lyft primarily from my arrival in San Bernardino to my departure. Unlike San Francisco, the Lyft drivers seemed much less interested in picking up late night partiers. Additionally, Uber had some sort of monopoly on the event; there was an Uber pick up area that no other cars could enter. I call foul on that. On Saturday night, Lisa and I left the venue around 12:30am. The venue had closed off most of the nearby streets so we decided to walk away from the melee and call our Lyft. We stopped on the steps of a suspect looking community center to connect. And I couldn't. My app wouldn't work. Neither would Uber - I kept getting a "weak signal" notification but really NOTHING was happening - and a cab would have been at least 45 minutes. The whole neighborhood was deserted and creepy as fuck, so we decided to walk back to the venue and get a ride at the Uber monopoly. As we walked we saw a Lyft driver just sitting in his car. We ran up to him (well, I hobbled actually.  My feet were killing me) and he said he could take us. As soon as we got in his car (my app still wasn't working so I couldn't book him) he got a call and had to take it or it looks bad on his Lyft rating. So, after a LOT of back and forth to find the herd of children he was picking up, we ended up being escorted 30 minutes out of our way to their destination and then back to our hotel. We were safe, but halfway there we were SO ready to be home, comforting each other by muttering "jammies and pie, jammies and pie!" (we had wisely purchased the pie earlier). When it was actually our turn, our driver turned into an absolute chatterbox. As we were nearing our exit he said "okay, I'll take Tennessee St." then marveled at how "all the streets have state names!". He marveled so hard about it he passed our exit. For. Fucks. Sake. 
• Thwarted by technology
• After dancing for hours over the course of two days, my feet were trashed (I went for form over function, which was my fatal flaw) and we were both exhausted so all we wanted to do was eat that damn pie and watch some TV. After the debacle with the Lyft app, we got back to the hotel and the TV showed a screen saying "Weak signal". This was Lisa's final straw. She started yelling at the TV, asking if we were suddenly in a war or a major technological meltdown. It was EPIC. Thankfully, the TV did eventually work and we were able to get our fill of Law and Order: SVU.

So, being the intrepid explorers we are, we journeyed into parts unknown, metaphorically froze our asses off in a sea of infants and came out the other end realizing that one can be cool and have a great time no matter what number is attached to your age.  In other words, "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke."

My takeaways:

#1 - When one walks 30,000 steps (15-ish miles) in a 24 hour period, one should not be surprised that pie at 2am doesn't blow your diet.

#2 - Electronic music isn't my favorite, it's a bit repetitive for my taste but considering probably 99.9% of the people there were tripping on something, it's the perfect music for this kind of event. The venue was decorated beautifully (again, perfect for tripping) and both nights were lovely and temperate. I had a great time.

#3 - Corn nuts smell like ass. On an airplane, they smell like ass at 45,000 ft.

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

Trippy trees!

Stage light shenanigans

Jellyfish!  No one got stung!  

Lions and Tigers and Bears? Not so much.

For the past couple weeks, I've gotten sucked into watching Emerald City, which is a new (possibly short lived) series on NBC. I mention that it's on NBC because it's all sorts of dark and gritty, which is refreshing for network TV. I've come to expect that kind of original content from Netflix or Amazon so I'm glad the networks are getting back in the game. It's only 10 episodes and as far as I can tell it hasn't been renewed, so I'm thinking maybe I'm the "Series Kiss of Death". Same thing happened with Travelers, a Netflix series I really liked. Not a peep if it's coming back either. (footnote: just saw that is IS renewed! I'm not the Kiss of Death after all!!)

Emerald City is basically a loose retelling of The Wizard of Oz. But super Game of Thrones-y. In fact, I read one review that called it The Wizard of Westeroz. Heh. Sometimes I love people. Not always, but sometimes.  I enjoyed it all the way through but it did become a bit muddied of story and vague of character, so they need to up their game a bit if they are coming back.

the cast

Dorothy - via tornado - gets stranded in a bleak, washed out landscape. Not the merry old land of Oz that Judy Garland ended up in. She is transported in a police car (with a K9 officer in back) and hits the East Witch with the car. She ends up in some kind of fucked up Munchkin Land which is more like a Mad Max Land (costume and attitude). No one is nice, there is no charmingly scruffy Lollipop Guild welcoming Dorothy. No Glinda coming to help. Instead, she gets tortured by these Mad Max-y looking folks and run out of town. WTF? They do manage to name the dog - Toto - which means Dog in their language. Clearly they aren't an animal loving bunch. Nor are they creative.

She doesn't kill the East Witch immediately but eventually shoots her and gains a pair of beautiful ruby and gold gloves which meld with her skin and come out when she needs some big-guns-magic. I was kind of hoping she would just have had to clap her hands three times to get home, but again - not the movie we know. It's MUCH more involved. In fact, this Dorothy decidedly does NOT have the power to get home all along. FU Glinda.

On the yellow brick road, which is only yellow because this land has a huge problem with poppy pollen, she sees a dude crucified on a pole. Well. Hello Scarecrow!  They are attracted to each other, which is truly the adult version of the original. We all know that, if she was old enough and had a choice, Dorothy would have hooked up with the Scarecrow. And this one is definitely shag-worthy.

They travel together and peripherally meet a kid who later becomes the TinMan in an interesting, steampunk way. He ends up in the Kingdom of Ev with more steampunky, robotic folk. The Princess of Ev (who in the books is a niece of the king) constantly wears a mask for reasons that come out later and they are some truly beautiful pieces of costume art. 

amirite?

He also initially hangs out with a young boy...who is actually a girl but had some powerful magic put on her when she was young. She is Ozma, who is in later books. This is actually a really interesting element of the show. Ozma identifies as a boy because that is how she grew up. So, discovering that she is actually a girl when she's a teenager is a huge mind fuck for her. I'm enjoying how the show is having her deal with this incongruity. Additionally, in episode 9 of 10 we finally see who the Lion is. I had guessed who he would be and I'm not sure I like that he doesn't show up until late. An interesting element to him is why he identifies as cowardly. He is a soldier for the Wizard who has made some suspect decisions in the past, which influences how he now sees the world.

The remaining witches, Glinda and West, have some absolutely gorgeous costumes.  They are also not what you remember from the old movie. Glinda is actually a calculating, hard woman (always dressed in white, to keep the illusion of goodness).  She is in a sort of cold war with the Wizard, who banned magic from the land when he arrived. West is a drug addicted madam of a brothel (always dressed in black) who is all sorts of crazy. They talk a lot about their mother, South. She has birthed all the witches, apparently, so I keep thinking of her as the mother in Alien plopping down a ton of eggs. Dorothy is trying to get one of the young witches out of Glinda's grasp and I want a reenactment of the Aliens scene: "Get away from her, you bitch!"

L - R:  East, Glinda of the North, West

Glinda is played by Joely Richardson and she is truly lovely. She's 52 years old and I appreciate that the show is not trying to make her look super young. She's gorgeous anyway and they aren't using soft focus or any other device to mask her age. Yay them.  Vincent D'Onofrio plays the Wizard. I usually love his absolute quirkiness and he's got it in spades in this show. Instead of hiding behind a curtain, he wears a big, ugly wig and lots of facial hair. He isn't fancy because nothing is as opulent as the movie version of the Emerald City, so he wears kind of drab robes and lives in a monotone castle. He is a tyrannical leader and is constantly on the verge of a war with the witches. D'Onofrio has affected this weird, flat accent, which sort of comes and goes. I haven't figured out if he means to do that or if he's just being lazy. Either way, this isn't my favorite of his roles (really, nothing surpasses Goren from Law and Order: Criminal Intent for me).

So I liked this series, but I fell that executive producer/writer Shaun Cassidy (yes, THE Sean Cassidy of Hardy Boy fame) and team bit off more than they could chew in 10 episodes. I have only read the first Oz book so I'm certainly no expert, but they introduced characters (like Ozma) and kingdoms (like Ev) that definitely need more fleshing out for folks like me who only know the one book. The acting is generally good but nothing note-worthy. For me, it's really about the production design. It's really, really cool. I read that they opted for very little cgi in the world (saving it for the magic) so they scouted some really amazing locations all around the world, including parks in Croatia and castles in Hungary.

Finally, the politics in this show are likely equal to that of the books. The books were never just a simple fairy tale; they were suffused with political undercurrents (I don't know why I didn't know this but L. Frank Baum's mother was a suffragette). And like Wicked, this show puts the politics of the land right up front. The unfit ruler (hmmm...who does that sound like?), witches (women) being oppressed, a world on the verge of war. Art imitates life, eh?

(Because I binged a series, I think this is less about drink pairing (because I don't want you all to think I'm a complete lush) and more about binge-y food. I discovered some delicious dark chocolate coconut "bites" at my local store that paired nicely with this series. Oh, and they are complimented by a glass of red wine, if you're so inclined.)

My takeaways (only one):

#1 - When I was in China many years ago at a work event, I met a group of Australian guys that I hung out with. By the end of my trip, I realized that we were exactly the cast of The Wizard of Oz. Obviously I was Dorothy. My favorite guy, who I connected with the most, was the Scarecrow and one goofy guy who had a huge issue with shark fin soup (for good reason, but still...when in Rome.) was the Cowardly Lion. I even had a TinMan who was just a nice, reliable guy.  I even had a Wizard replacement in a lovely older gentleman who ran an animation company. I am a total dork.

xoxo...hashtagSueslife