Oh come on, you didn't think I'd miss out on an Oscars post did you?
It'll have to be a series of short posts.
So, firstly - I hope you all watched Natalie Portman's acceptance speech. If not then here it is for your viewing pleasure. The woman is a true artist, and her performance in "Black Swan" was indeed Oscar-worthy, and look at her style and grace.
But the thing I love the most about this clip is the moment when her partner Benjamin Millepied, bless him, walked with her to the stairs with his arm supporting her ever-so-gently and then extended it in a graceful, understated movement to ensure that she was all right going up the stairs. Such a gentlemanly gesture brings tears to my eyes.
More to come.
I promise.
Showing posts with label Film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Film. Show all posts
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Meet the screenwriters
So you've seen "Hearbreaker" and had a lovely laugh... time to meet the screenwriters:
Laurent Zeitoun, Jeremy Doner, and Yohan Gromb. Laurent Zeitoun has a writing credit for "I Do" as well, another brilliant French rom-com which one of my screenwriting teachers had used as an example in his class on the genre of romantic comedy. Thank you gentlemen for crafting such a satisfying story!
Next, I highly recommend you rush to see "The King's Speech." It doesn't often happen that a brilliant script is then developed by a fabulous director and a heavenly cast, so enjoy every moment of it. The audience clapped at the end, and I can't remember the last time that happened at my local cinema.
And may I introduce, if you please, the screenwriter of this extraordinary film: David Seidler.
Laurent Zeitoun, Jeremy Doner, and Yohan Gromb. Laurent Zeitoun has a writing credit for "I Do" as well, another brilliant French rom-com which one of my screenwriting teachers had used as an example in his class on the genre of romantic comedy. Thank you gentlemen for crafting such a satisfying story!
Next, I highly recommend you rush to see "The King's Speech." It doesn't often happen that a brilliant script is then developed by a fabulous director and a heavenly cast, so enjoy every moment of it. The audience clapped at the end, and I can't remember the last time that happened at my local cinema.
And may I introduce, if you please, the screenwriter of this extraordinary film: David Seidler.
Monday, November 1, 2010
One more random thing before I go
I highly recommend this film (and the trailer for it is great too):
The film's publicity consistently mentioned the screenwriter (the amazing Aaron Sorkin) which is quite something in an industry which hardly ever gives credit to any writers.
Although the story hangs on the lawsuit, it's really our story - the story of people who are living in the age of digital social networks. But now this one particular blogger must finish packing and go on a real trip.
See you on the other side bloggers.
The film's publicity consistently mentioned the screenwriter (the amazing Aaron Sorkin) which is quite something in an industry which hardly ever gives credit to any writers.
Although the story hangs on the lawsuit, it's really our story - the story of people who are living in the age of digital social networks. But now this one particular blogger must finish packing and go on a real trip.
See you on the other side bloggers.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
A brief interlude
I can't sleep, too excited about my upcoming trip, so I'm listening to music on YouTube. You probably remember that one of my favourite movies is "International Velvet," and listening to the theme from the film always makes me happy. So I listened to it here:
And it suddenly occurred to me to see if the composer of this theme wrote any other music for films.
His name, it turns out, is Francis Lai, who knew? And he wrote this as well:
And this:
Fame is such a strange beast, I had never heard his name before. Why?
Monsieur Lai, you have a place in my heart,
love,
Eleanor x
And it suddenly occurred to me to see if the composer of this theme wrote any other music for films.
His name, it turns out, is Francis Lai, who knew? And he wrote this as well:
And this:
Fame is such a strange beast, I had never heard his name before. Why?
Monsieur Lai, you have a place in my heart,
love,
Eleanor x
Monday, July 26, 2010
Back home
Hello all,
If you're still here reading this blog then it means you knew me back when...you know...back when I used to post regularly.
It took me several weeks to feel "at home" again at home, and I just didn't feel like writing about it. This is a time of big changes in my role as mother/housewife/woman and some days I seem to be completely lost. Miss Cb is working in America for a few months, Master Cb is very independent and happy in his own world of school and friends, and for the first time ever I'm suddenly reminiscing about the "early years" of the family and wondering what exactly my role is in the present years.
I watched this film last week - "Only Yesterday" - and I had the most wonderful cry at the end of it. Such a wonderful feeling to cry at the end of a movie, really it is! I think the Japanese audience especially loves a good cry, and I'm so thankful for that. It's all very well to watch clever, fast-paced, witty or three-dimensional Hollywood films, but sometimes all you want is a good cry.
I love the idea of a woman in her mid-twenties taking along her younger self as she travels to her summer destination. I love the interweaving of the two love narratives - her first love with the school's baseball star and the deep love which she slowly discovers while picking safflowers. And then there are all of the perfect, tiny details which are added in the animation (painstakingly hand-drawn by the wonderful Studio Ghibli) - the father's puff of cigarette smoke, the cat walking past, her glancing at the mirror while talking on the phone, and best of all - the catcher's mitt glimpse when the little girl and little boy agree on their favourite kind of day.
Thought it might brighten your day as well.....
If you're still here reading this blog then it means you knew me back when...you know...back when I used to post regularly.
It took me several weeks to feel "at home" again at home, and I just didn't feel like writing about it. This is a time of big changes in my role as mother/housewife/woman and some days I seem to be completely lost. Miss Cb is working in America for a few months, Master Cb is very independent and happy in his own world of school and friends, and for the first time ever I'm suddenly reminiscing about the "early years" of the family and wondering what exactly my role is in the present years.
I watched this film last week - "Only Yesterday" - and I had the most wonderful cry at the end of it. Such a wonderful feeling to cry at the end of a movie, really it is! I think the Japanese audience especially loves a good cry, and I'm so thankful for that. It's all very well to watch clever, fast-paced, witty or three-dimensional Hollywood films, but sometimes all you want is a good cry.
I love the idea of a woman in her mid-twenties taking along her younger self as she travels to her summer destination. I love the interweaving of the two love narratives - her first love with the school's baseball star and the deep love which she slowly discovers while picking safflowers. And then there are all of the perfect, tiny details which are added in the animation (painstakingly hand-drawn by the wonderful Studio Ghibli) - the father's puff of cigarette smoke, the cat walking past, her glancing at the mirror while talking on the phone, and best of all - the catcher's mitt glimpse when the little girl and little boy agree on their favourite kind of day.
Thought it might brighten your day as well.....
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Thrilling
I watched the Coen brothers' "Blood Simple" last night. It's their first film and absolutely fabulous. If you like a really good thriller then I highly recommend it, plus...look how adorably young Frances McDormand is in it. This interview cracks me up:
But it doesn't pass the Bechdel test.
But it doesn't pass the Bechdel test.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Quirky
Guess what? I'm starting to finally FINALLY have some fun in my screenwriting course. I immediately knew things were going to start looking up during my latest meeting with my teacher. She said that I was on the right track with my idea for the TV pilot but that I now needed to add something QUIRKY to it. Let the fun begin I say!
Although it's all an exercise (they call it "writing to a brief") the teachers still like to pretend that we are writing something that would theoretically be produced. I have a history of taking my studies much too seriously; I was the girl who sat in the front row of her class, always handed in her homework on time and cried if she thought the teacher was disappointed in her. So when a teacher actually tells me that I need to try very very hard to write something fun and quirky, I realise that I HAVE done the right thing by enrolling in this course, and that I AM making progress.
Any of you like detective fiction? How about detective shows on TV? Were any of you into Nancy Drew or Trixie Belden when you were young? I'm trying my hand at some detective stories, that are quirky, and fun. I just have to be careful not to take it too seriously, because that might really disappoint my teachers.
Although it's all an exercise (they call it "writing to a brief") the teachers still like to pretend that we are writing something that would theoretically be produced. I have a history of taking my studies much too seriously; I was the girl who sat in the front row of her class, always handed in her homework on time and cried if she thought the teacher was disappointed in her. So when a teacher actually tells me that I need to try very very hard to write something fun and quirky, I realise that I HAVE done the right thing by enrolling in this course, and that I AM making progress.
Any of you like detective fiction? How about detective shows on TV? Were any of you into Nancy Drew or Trixie Belden when you were young? I'm trying my hand at some detective stories, that are quirky, and fun. I just have to be careful not to take it too seriously, because that might really disappoint my teachers.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Quickly running in
to tell you that all is well with me. I have not succumbed to a dreadful, deep, dark depression about my writing. Well...there might have been a sprinkling of ashes on my head, and maybe even some sackcloth wearing, but the burden of screenwriting is immense I tell you, immense. I suppose it may well be my fate to suffer for my art.
And now, another topic.
The entire Commentbox family watched "How to Train Your Dragon" the other day, and all four of us are in complete agreement that the character of Toothless the dragon is based ABSOLUTELY AND COMPLETELY on our cattledog Blue. We adopted Blue from a doggierescue centre two years ago, and he had been quite badly treated before we met him, so the period of time in which he became used to us did sometimes feel like the training of a dragon. I have now taken to calling him Toothless, although I have yet to attempt to fix his tail so that he can fly. My one criticism of this wonderful film is that it was made too late for me to take my 4 and 7 year old kids to see it. It's not easy talking a 15 year old boy into going to see a PG-rated cartoon, with his parents, and sister, but I did it!!!
And now, another topic.
The entire Commentbox family watched "How to Train Your Dragon" the other day, and all four of us are in complete agreement that the character of Toothless the dragon is based ABSOLUTELY AND COMPLETELY on our cattledog Blue. We adopted Blue from a doggierescue centre two years ago, and he had been quite badly treated before we met him, so the period of time in which he became used to us did sometimes feel like the training of a dragon. I have now taken to calling him Toothless, although I have yet to attempt to fix his tail so that he can fly. My one criticism of this wonderful film is that it was made too late for me to take my 4 and 7 year old kids to see it. It's not easy talking a 15 year old boy into going to see a PG-rated cartoon, with his parents, and sister, but I did it!!!
Friday, March 26, 2010
Collaboration
Yesterday was a particularly difficult day, which is all the more upsetting because the day before that was so very wonderful.
My class is in the process of studying film genre and the last two days have been all about the thriller. I have been mesmerised by the arrival of a new teacher who is able to bring Plato and Aristotle into a conversation about "The Bourne Identity." I have also felt deepest gratitude as he slowly and respectfully discussed the portrayal of women in thrillers, and I felt great joy as he hypothesised about the reasons that women are generally attracted to the genre.
But that was two days ago, and yesterday we had to break up into pairs and write our own 9-page thriller scene. We were given half an hour to work separately on our concept and general storyline, and an hour to discuss our ideas with each other and come up with one scene using a combination of the best aspects of both stories.
Easier said than done.
I was paired with a young, enthusiastic young man. Unfortunately, his enthusiasm was limited to his own work and not to the collaborative process. I had a feeling it would end badly when he didn't even turn up to our arranged meeting-place. By sheer luck I had his mobile number in my information brochure, so after wasting 15 minutes searching for him throughout the campus I called him and reminded him that we had to work together. He had settled himself at a computer in one of the small study rooms and had been busily typing away, actually writing the script, before we had even begun to discuss our story and plan.
Now.
I am a mature woman. I was not particularly enamoured with my own story, but I did think it had a few interesting elements. I hate conflict. I have years of experience working lovingly with young adults. But I consider this course of study I have undertaken to be my "Me Time," my time to talk and learn with other adults, NOT my time to patiently and painstakingly teach a young person about the realities of the collaborative experience.
After ascertaining that my partner was indeed intent on writing the script himself, had no interest in my ideas, and was eager to criticise both my working method and my typing speed (I type too fast apparently), I packed my bag and threatened to leave the room. As young adults are wont to do, he cunningly went in for the final kill at that moment, attempting to soothe me by telling me that he understood my heightened emotions, after all... I have so many family pressures, being an older woman and a mother, that it's no wonder I'm irrational.
I am proud to tell you that I did not scream, cry or storm out of the room at that moment. I actually stood my ground and forced myself to slowly...calmly...explain to him my particular point of view. To his credit (he was, I admit, looking a little scared) he said "I can see that you are angry," and he did begin to show a glimmer of comprehension. That glimmer was enough for me. We decided to take the pressure off for the moment, we wandered downstairs and grabbed a couple of coffees and sat in the sunshine on a bench. After a while, we returned to our notes and painstakingly re-navigated a small section of the scene. He apologised, I apologised and we returned to the classroom and explained to the teacher that we were not able to complete the entire assignment.
As luck (or bad luck) would have it, the other groups also returned with half-written scenes, so we will now be presenting our work on Sunday afternoon. This means that my little friend and I have to continue meeting and working together for the next two days.
I will now admit to you that I sobbed in a toilet cubicle after the class, and sobbed periodically throughout that evening. I know it's trivial, I know it's ridiculous and virtually meaningless in the scheme of things, but crying makes me feel better. I realised yesterday that I have invested my new course of study with far too much meaning, and that my tendency towards perfectionism is indeed a terrible handicap. I'm also fighting a very strong urge to call in sick on Sunday.
My class is in the process of studying film genre and the last two days have been all about the thriller. I have been mesmerised by the arrival of a new teacher who is able to bring Plato and Aristotle into a conversation about "The Bourne Identity." I have also felt deepest gratitude as he slowly and respectfully discussed the portrayal of women in thrillers, and I felt great joy as he hypothesised about the reasons that women are generally attracted to the genre.
But that was two days ago, and yesterday we had to break up into pairs and write our own 9-page thriller scene. We were given half an hour to work separately on our concept and general storyline, and an hour to discuss our ideas with each other and come up with one scene using a combination of the best aspects of both stories.
Easier said than done.
I was paired with a young, enthusiastic young man. Unfortunately, his enthusiasm was limited to his own work and not to the collaborative process. I had a feeling it would end badly when he didn't even turn up to our arranged meeting-place. By sheer luck I had his mobile number in my information brochure, so after wasting 15 minutes searching for him throughout the campus I called him and reminded him that we had to work together. He had settled himself at a computer in one of the small study rooms and had been busily typing away, actually writing the script, before we had even begun to discuss our story and plan.
Now.
I am a mature woman. I was not particularly enamoured with my own story, but I did think it had a few interesting elements. I hate conflict. I have years of experience working lovingly with young adults. But I consider this course of study I have undertaken to be my "Me Time," my time to talk and learn with other adults, NOT my time to patiently and painstakingly teach a young person about the realities of the collaborative experience.
After ascertaining that my partner was indeed intent on writing the script himself, had no interest in my ideas, and was eager to criticise both my working method and my typing speed (I type too fast apparently), I packed my bag and threatened to leave the room. As young adults are wont to do, he cunningly went in for the final kill at that moment, attempting to soothe me by telling me that he understood my heightened emotions, after all... I have so many family pressures, being an older woman and a mother, that it's no wonder I'm irrational.
I am proud to tell you that I did not scream, cry or storm out of the room at that moment. I actually stood my ground and forced myself to slowly...calmly...explain to him my particular point of view. To his credit (he was, I admit, looking a little scared) he said "I can see that you are angry," and he did begin to show a glimmer of comprehension. That glimmer was enough for me. We decided to take the pressure off for the moment, we wandered downstairs and grabbed a couple of coffees and sat in the sunshine on a bench. After a while, we returned to our notes and painstakingly re-navigated a small section of the scene. He apologised, I apologised and we returned to the classroom and explained to the teacher that we were not able to complete the entire assignment.
As luck (or bad luck) would have it, the other groups also returned with half-written scenes, so we will now be presenting our work on Sunday afternoon. This means that my little friend and I have to continue meeting and working together for the next two days.
I will now admit to you that I sobbed in a toilet cubicle after the class, and sobbed periodically throughout that evening. I know it's trivial, I know it's ridiculous and virtually meaningless in the scheme of things, but crying makes me feel better. I realised yesterday that I have invested my new course of study with far too much meaning, and that my tendency towards perfectionism is indeed a terrible handicap. I'm also fighting a very strong urge to call in sick on Sunday.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Film School Rant
One of my teachers uses the F-word a lot and it's driving me INSANE. It's a WRITING course, he should have enough words in his vocabulary other than F. Also, I was brought up to think that it's rude, and I can't help losing all respect for a TEACHER when he uses it so casually. Why can't my teacher be like Alice's Geography professors? I bet Alice never has to put up with this sort of unprofessional foul-mouthed immaturity.
I have two teachers who teach us side-by-side for most of the time, but I don't think they're well-matched. They often seem to misunderstand each other, they argue about trivialities while we sit and listen, and there's a lot of ego involved. There's so much ego in the room when they teach that it's physically painful, I can see their low self-esteems and wounded children battling each other as they discuss the Act Two turning point of Jaws, and it's ugly.
It is much harder than I had expected to tolerate a 22 year old man's view on the world when you are forced to sit beside him from 9am to 5pm for 4 days in a row. I didn't say a WORD, I swear, when he presented "Point Break" to the class and explained why it was "heaps good". But when I had to be involved in a group discussion of "Dirty Dancing" and he said that it was a failure of a movie because the stakes weren't high enough (stop to take a breath) because "no father would really freak out that much if his daughter told him she had sex for the first time, I mean....she's like 17 right...it's not like she's 14" (another deep breath). Well. I couldn't hold back then and I spoke up. So there.
The guy whose ambition it is to be the youngest ever super-successful television writer? Well, he's now voicing concerns about how he might be setting himself up for a fall because people may assume that he's peaked early and not expect him to have a long-lasting career. Right.
I find myself sitting in that class and PINING, truly PINING for my blogging community. I sit there and I think of each and every one of you, every blogger and every commentbox I have ever read, and I wish that you were there beside me. I miss the meeting of like minds, the creativity, the humour, the respect, the love of life, the truthfulness of my little blogland. This transition into the real world has hit me hard I'm afraid.
Yes, it is 2am, yes, I am going to have some chamomile tea and then return to bed. Thanks for listening.
E xxxx
I have two teachers who teach us side-by-side for most of the time, but I don't think they're well-matched. They often seem to misunderstand each other, they argue about trivialities while we sit and listen, and there's a lot of ego involved. There's so much ego in the room when they teach that it's physically painful, I can see their low self-esteems and wounded children battling each other as they discuss the Act Two turning point of Jaws, and it's ugly.
It is much harder than I had expected to tolerate a 22 year old man's view on the world when you are forced to sit beside him from 9am to 5pm for 4 days in a row. I didn't say a WORD, I swear, when he presented "Point Break" to the class and explained why it was "heaps good". But when I had to be involved in a group discussion of "Dirty Dancing" and he said that it was a failure of a movie because the stakes weren't high enough (stop to take a breath) because "no father would really freak out that much if his daughter told him she had sex for the first time, I mean....she's like 17 right...it's not like she's 14" (another deep breath). Well. I couldn't hold back then and I spoke up. So there.
The guy whose ambition it is to be the youngest ever super-successful television writer? Well, he's now voicing concerns about how he might be setting himself up for a fall because people may assume that he's peaked early and not expect him to have a long-lasting career. Right.
I find myself sitting in that class and PINING, truly PINING for my blogging community. I sit there and I think of each and every one of you, every blogger and every commentbox I have ever read, and I wish that you were there beside me. I miss the meeting of like minds, the creativity, the humour, the respect, the love of life, the truthfulness of my little blogland. This transition into the real world has hit me hard I'm afraid.
Yes, it is 2am, yes, I am going to have some chamomile tea and then return to bed. Thanks for listening.
E xxxx
Friday, March 19, 2010
Film School requirements
Sorry I've been absent for a while. The teachers are really strict about the required attendance at all Handsome Men's Club meetings, and they meet daily.
Should you so desire, an entire meeting is available for viewing on Youtube. Don't worry, at least YOU won't have to write a paper on it.
Should you so desire, an entire meeting is available for viewing on Youtube. Don't worry, at least YOU won't have to write a paper on it.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Rush
Ever since my screenwriting course started I've been in a rush, and I keep sitting down at my desk and starting a post only to find myself suddenly doing something quite different in a completely different location.
So I have decided this Friday morning to write a post in a rush, without reading through it and pondering anything whatsoever. Stream of consciousness. Sort of.
My course is great, but I'm completely out of my comfort zone because it's been quite a while since I spent so much time with people, talking. Sure, I have my part-time work, but a lot of it involves reading and writing by myself. If I have the choice between writing an essay or meeting someone in person for a chat I will always lean towards writing.
So there I was, spending three full days with 4 women, 5 men and our 2 teachers discussing the theory and practice of screenwriting. To cut a long story short (hehe, no pun intended) our first assignment is writing a tv pilot to a brief. After spending the last 10 years trying to eradicate the evil time-sucking, life-sucking television from my family life I am now embracing it with a passion.
My favourite show so far is Mad Men, especially the 1st season. Anybody else here love it? How about In Treatment? My guilty pleasure is actually Medium, anybody else out there like it?
I'm the oldest in the class, and the youngest members of the group (in their 20s) had a bit of a bet on how old I was! Their final guess was 32, SCORE!!!!!!!!!! (I'm 41).
So I have decided this Friday morning to write a post in a rush, without reading through it and pondering anything whatsoever. Stream of consciousness. Sort of.
My course is great, but I'm completely out of my comfort zone because it's been quite a while since I spent so much time with people, talking. Sure, I have my part-time work, but a lot of it involves reading and writing by myself. If I have the choice between writing an essay or meeting someone in person for a chat I will always lean towards writing.
So there I was, spending three full days with 4 women, 5 men and our 2 teachers discussing the theory and practice of screenwriting. To cut a long story short (hehe, no pun intended) our first assignment is writing a tv pilot to a brief. After spending the last 10 years trying to eradicate the evil time-sucking, life-sucking television from my family life I am now embracing it with a passion.
My favourite show so far is Mad Men, especially the 1st season. Anybody else here love it? How about In Treatment? My guilty pleasure is actually Medium, anybody else out there like it?
I'm the oldest in the class, and the youngest members of the group (in their 20s) had a bit of a bet on how old I was! Their final guess was 32, SCORE!!!!!!!!!! (I'm 41).
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Rhyme or reason?
Did you know that scenes in screenplays can rhyme?
I'll give you an example.
"Master and Commander" tells the story of two friends, Captain Jack Aubrey and Doctor Stephen Maturin, who enjoy playing music together (violin and cello) when they're not busy leading and healing the ship's crew. Aubrey is a wonderful leader, sailor and fighter, a man who thrives on danger and action. Maturin is a wonderful healer, botanist and poet, a man who thrives on peaceful musings and quiet learning.
Towards the end of the story Captain Aubrey finds himself standing in the Captain's quarters of the enemy ship he has successfully won in battle, and he notices a sheet of music on the floor. As he stands and stares at the sheet of music, he is suddenly attacked by a French sailor who had been lying in wait for him. After a struggle, Aubrey succeeds in fighting the sailor off and forcing him to tell him where the French Captain is hiding - in the infirmary. Upon arriving in the infirmary, Aubrey sees two men, one lying dead on a cot and the other a doctor who explains that the French Captain lies before him, having only just died from his battle wounds.
The twist which we discover several scenes later, is that the French Captain had in fact disguised himself as the doctor.
Captain or Doctor? Warrior or healer? Friend or foe? And music too, of course. This is in fact the theme of the film, and the very essence of the quite beautiful and complex friendship between these two men. All of which is portrayed via these rhyming scenes.
I'll give you an example.
"Master and Commander" tells the story of two friends, Captain Jack Aubrey and Doctor Stephen Maturin, who enjoy playing music together (violin and cello) when they're not busy leading and healing the ship's crew. Aubrey is a wonderful leader, sailor and fighter, a man who thrives on danger and action. Maturin is a wonderful healer, botanist and poet, a man who thrives on peaceful musings and quiet learning.
Towards the end of the story Captain Aubrey finds himself standing in the Captain's quarters of the enemy ship he has successfully won in battle, and he notices a sheet of music on the floor. As he stands and stares at the sheet of music, he is suddenly attacked by a French sailor who had been lying in wait for him. After a struggle, Aubrey succeeds in fighting the sailor off and forcing him to tell him where the French Captain is hiding - in the infirmary. Upon arriving in the infirmary, Aubrey sees two men, one lying dead on a cot and the other a doctor who explains that the French Captain lies before him, having only just died from his battle wounds.
The twist which we discover several scenes later, is that the French Captain had in fact disguised himself as the doctor.
Captain or Doctor? Warrior or healer? Friend or foe? And music too, of course. This is in fact the theme of the film, and the very essence of the quite beautiful and complex friendship between these two men. All of which is portrayed via these rhyming scenes.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Doctor's orders
Having a bad day? Exhausted? Under the weather? Not quite yourself? Pessimistic?
Rent "The Full Monty". Doctor's orders.
NB
Script written by Simon Beaufoy, same genius who wrote "Slumdog Millionaire."
If after a couple of hours you're still not quite happy, apply "Calendar Girls" immediately.
Rent "The Full Monty". Doctor's orders.
NB
Script written by Simon Beaufoy, same genius who wrote "Slumdog Millionaire."
If after a couple of hours you're still not quite happy, apply "Calendar Girls" immediately.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Me me me
Brilliant advice from all of you, as always. Thank you so much...update to come concerning the boy's renewed interest in reading, but I don't feel like writing about my children today, I want to write about me. It's all about me.
Me me me me me.
I received the viewing/reading list for my screenwriting course and am using the next two weeks to try and cram in the whole semester's worth, before classes begin. As a mother (albeit with kids who are teenagers) I still have a mortal fear of "unexpected family commitments which invariably occur on the week/day/night before an assignment is due and which lead to my failing a course/losing a job/going crazy."
Of course, my current anxiety level can never compare to that excruciating feeling I used to have when I had finally set up my dream job/dream course only to then have to juggle the relentless unexpected realities of real life with small children.
There was, for example, the university course which had me sobbing in the timetable coordinator's office while explaining that no, I could not wait for him to give me my time-table for next semester NEXT semester because my baby's daycare required a term's notice NOW. I remember, as if it was yesterday, that horrible Kafkaesque feeling as I sat before this elderly male professor, heaving and hiccuping and ranting on and on and on about my little boy's daycare arrangements, my girl's school which finishes at 3, my husband's business travel arrangements for the next year, my parents' home in faraway England, the debilitating boredom of housework, the flu that I couldn't seem to shake, and the fact that I hadn't slept through the night in 2 years.
Good times, good times.
The one thing to remember with parenting - everything always changes. So here I am about to embark on a course of study which promises to be both enjoyable and challenging. In preparation for the first class I watched "Fight Club" and the pilot episode of "Sopranos," and then I read the script of "The Full Monty." How do you like that for homework? Come on people, I just know that you'll have opinions on those three. I had watched the two films before, many years ago, but I had never watched any Soprano episode. How has this been possible? I'm ashamed of myself, I missed out on years of enjoyment. That first episode is beautiful, really, it's beautiful - Dr. Melfi the psychiatrist trying to get Tony to understand why he had an anxiety attack after the ducklings from his pool finally flew away? That scene sums up what I love about the role of film in our lives, it makes life worth living, it makes me happy. Or how about that scene in which Tony tells his wife Carmella that he's seeing a therapist and she's so happy that she practically dances a jig there in the restaurant and she tells him "That's so gutsy." Ohohoh, and the scene in the other restaurant when he bumps into Dr. Melfi and he thanks her for her help with the "interior decoration." I'll stop now.
What's the general opinion about "Fight Club"? I tell you what, it's different to watch it after 9/11, you know, (**spoiler alert) the ending scene in which he and Marla stand at the window and watch the huge buildings explode? The fight scenes still make me very queasy, but I think I understand the film more at this stage of my life, when I have more experience with men and their inner lives. It's a classic.
I've been told that there will be only 10 students in my class, 5 men and 5 women, mostly late 20s and early 30s so I'll be the oldest. You want to come along with me? Shhh...if you stay very quiet you can come along with me, all right? Hey Kim, would you please STOP shoving Eurolush outta the way? There'll be plenty of room for ALL of you, I promise. Oh, but Lushy....you'll need to wear something other than pyjamas. Really.
Me me me me me.
I received the viewing/reading list for my screenwriting course and am using the next two weeks to try and cram in the whole semester's worth, before classes begin. As a mother (albeit with kids who are teenagers) I still have a mortal fear of "unexpected family commitments which invariably occur on the week/day/night before an assignment is due and which lead to my failing a course/losing a job/going crazy."
Of course, my current anxiety level can never compare to that excruciating feeling I used to have when I had finally set up my dream job/dream course only to then have to juggle the relentless unexpected realities of real life with small children.
There was, for example, the university course which had me sobbing in the timetable coordinator's office while explaining that no, I could not wait for him to give me my time-table for next semester NEXT semester because my baby's daycare required a term's notice NOW. I remember, as if it was yesterday, that horrible Kafkaesque feeling as I sat before this elderly male professor, heaving and hiccuping and ranting on and on and on about my little boy's daycare arrangements, my girl's school which finishes at 3, my husband's business travel arrangements for the next year, my parents' home in faraway England, the debilitating boredom of housework, the flu that I couldn't seem to shake, and the fact that I hadn't slept through the night in 2 years.
Good times, good times.
The one thing to remember with parenting - everything always changes. So here I am about to embark on a course of study which promises to be both enjoyable and challenging. In preparation for the first class I watched "Fight Club" and the pilot episode of "Sopranos," and then I read the script of "The Full Monty." How do you like that for homework? Come on people, I just know that you'll have opinions on those three. I had watched the two films before, many years ago, but I had never watched any Soprano episode. How has this been possible? I'm ashamed of myself, I missed out on years of enjoyment. That first episode is beautiful, really, it's beautiful - Dr. Melfi the psychiatrist trying to get Tony to understand why he had an anxiety attack after the ducklings from his pool finally flew away? That scene sums up what I love about the role of film in our lives, it makes life worth living, it makes me happy. Or how about that scene in which Tony tells his wife Carmella that he's seeing a therapist and she's so happy that she practically dances a jig there in the restaurant and she tells him "That's so gutsy." Ohohoh, and the scene in the other restaurant when he bumps into Dr. Melfi and he thanks her for her help with the "interior decoration." I'll stop now.
What's the general opinion about "Fight Club"? I tell you what, it's different to watch it after 9/11, you know, (**spoiler alert) the ending scene in which he and Marla stand at the window and watch the huge buildings explode? The fight scenes still make me very queasy, but I think I understand the film more at this stage of my life, when I have more experience with men and their inner lives. It's a classic.
I've been told that there will be only 10 students in my class, 5 men and 5 women, mostly late 20s and early 30s so I'll be the oldest. You want to come along with me? Shhh...if you stay very quiet you can come along with me, all right? Hey Kim, would you please STOP shoving Eurolush outta the way? There'll be plenty of room for ALL of you, I promise. Oh, but Lushy....you'll need to wear something other than pyjamas. Really.
Friday, December 18, 2009
An education
Miss CB received her final results for the HSC and did extraordinarily well. She is very happy, as are we all, and now we look forward to a very special family holiday in New York and Boston. In the meantime, Miss CB is out celebrating with friends and I am sitting here, still in my pyjamas, thinking about her.
As Miss CB finishes one stage of her education, her mother (that would be me) is beginning a new stage of her own. I have been accepted into the Graduate Diploma in Screenwriting and will begin my studies next year. I'm literally shaking with excitement as this is a dream come true for me in many ways.
But I may have lied to you about something in a previous post, and I must set the record straight. Poirot was NOT my first love, oh no, indeed, despite the beauty of his little grey cells. My first love was in fact Christopher Plummer (although Anthony Hopkins will also always have a place in my heart).
As Miss CB finishes one stage of her education, her mother (that would be me) is beginning a new stage of her own. I have been accepted into the Graduate Diploma in Screenwriting and will begin my studies next year. I'm literally shaking with excitement as this is a dream come true for me in many ways.
But I may have lied to you about something in a previous post, and I must set the record straight. Poirot was NOT my first love, oh no, indeed, despite the beauty of his little grey cells. My first love was in fact Christopher Plummer (although Anthony Hopkins will also always have a place in my heart).
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