Tag: Valentine’s Day

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Snapshots

By Amy Spiegel

Brief comments on film by Amy.
Some old, some new.  Domestic films and foreign too.

I really hate writing negative reviews… Okay, let me modify that a bit. I write negative reviews with relish but then feel really bad about it later. I would much rather tell you about the amazing movie I can’t wait for you to see. Sadly, my film watching this month movie was lacking in “amazing.” Hopefully, I can at least spare you the experience of watching these less than recommendable films.

Nine: I will be honest here and say that I am not a big fan of musicals. If I were, perhaps I would have only moderately disliked this movie instead of hating it. I resorted to fast- forwarding long chunks of it. With so many Hollywood favorites and even a few real actors thrown in, you would think they could have come up with something that would have at least kept my finger off the remote control. Ironically, this film seems to mirror its own plot of a filmmaker who can’t recreate the quality of work that is expected of him. As my kids would say, “whatever.”

End of the Spear: How does one take one of the most powerful modern stories of Christian forgiveness and make it boring? Well start with bad writing, remove any references to Christianity (or Jesus for that matter) and then assume that the audience already knows the story anyway. Actually, I did know the story going in and was still confused. It was as if they started a third of the way into the film. I would say this is just another example of bad “Christian” art, but since they refuse to talk about Jesus throughout the film, I guess this is one that doesn’t warrant that description.

The Last Station: This film was well-directed, well-written, and well-acted. If only the whole premise of the movie wasn’t absolute bull-shine. Supposedly a depiction of the last days of Leo Tolstoy, this movie is one giant kiss-up to a really bad guy. I wanted to see it because of my love for his classic War and Peace but did some research after viewing the film and was sorely disappointed in the filmmakers’ refusal to face Tolstoy’s “issues” head on. I am surprised the movie didn’t end with Tolstoy dancing arm in arm with Alfred Kinsey.

Lost: Okay, here is where I get off the train to Negativity Central and hop on the Mega-fan Express. I don’t care what Jim says—I love this show. I could no longer refuse to watch it when so many people whom I respect kept recommending it. I have completed Season Two and at one point was up to a four-episodes-per-day habit. Since Jim staged his intervention, I have actually decided to read up on seasons 3, 4 and 5 and watch the last season at a more reasonable pace. I know the women are boobs with legs and the men are too good looking, but I love it despite its glamorous warts. The issues discussed (e.g., faith vs. science, the group vs. the individual) are interesting, and I love learning the background of certain characters and how this changes your perspective. And I must find out what is in the jungle!

Honorable and Dishonorable Mentions: I will make this short and sweet: Valentine’s Day—As disappointing as rain at a picnic, with fire ants and soggy sandwiches. When in Rome—Though the supporting cast is a bit over the top for my taste, I love Kristin Bell and Josh Duhamel. Bounty Hunter—I was on vacation; thought it would be entertaining. It was like the above mentioned picnic with some hail and armed bandits thrown in. Bad, bad, bad.

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A Valentine’s Day to Remember (by Jim, Annotated by Amy)

By Jim Spiegel

Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!  For me, this was certainly one to remember.  It began, like most Saturdays, with my making pancakes for the kids.  This is one of the few culinary endeavors where my ability actually exceeds Amy’s.  This morning I nailed it again, blowing the kids’ minds, with the most fluffy and tasty pancakes this side of the Mississinewa River.  Oh yeah. (I hate to disillusion Jim, here, but I believe that my pancake skills have actually exceeded his. Since this is one of only two things he used to be able to say he could make better than me, the other being milk shakes, I won’t tell him that the children are only being polite and secretly like my pancakes better than his. Poor man.)

After breakfast, I took Bailey to his basketball game, where his team, the Longhorns, played the Golden Hurricane.  Who won, you ask?  Nobody.  Bailey plays in the Upward league where they don’t keep score.  The stated rationale for this is that it encourages fellowship and learning the game, but everybody knows that it’s to discourage parental hysterics and abuse of the referees which is so common in such leagues.  Funny—when I was little, it was us kids who needed to be restrained, not our parents. (What Jim isn’t telling you is that he knows full well that Bailey’s team lost because he is one of those parents that keeps track of the score despite the “Everyone’s a winner” attitude of the league.  Not only does he know the score but could probably give you a play-by-play account of this and every other sporting event any of our children have competed in.  Sad but true.  Just like the pancakes.)

After Bailey’s game, we headed over to Lowe’s to pick up a new shower nozzle.  Our old one was leaking and badly needed replacing.  (Again, Jim fails to give the whole picture here.  I am beginning to feel unsettled by his lack of full disclosure.  Does he mention that I have been pestering him for well over a year to fix the showerhead?  Does he describe my “temporary” solution of tying a washcloth around the pipe to keep it from spraying water everywhere?  It actually worked really well, maybe even better than his solution. Just another area where I surpass him.  It’s actually sad to see how blind he is to his own competitiveness.)  The kids were thrilled about the new nozzle, which has both spray and massage settings.  This is the first time we’ve ever seen them want to take a shower. 

In the afternoon Amy and I officially celebrated Valentine’s Day by going to see Slumdog Millionaire together.  This wasn’t just the highlight of my day—this was the highlight of my life as a filmgoer, at least since I first saw American Beauty and perhaps even going as far back as Pulp Fiction, which I recall watching with Amy before we were an “item.”  Like those films, Slumdog Millionaire weaves a redemptive theme through a lot of suffering and wickedness.  (Kind of like my life with Jim.  Despite his delusions about his culinary skills and his ultra-competitiveness, especially when I am so obviously superior, I choose to endure.)  In Slumdog, Love triumphs over evil, but without any Hollywood clichés or patronizing—partly, I’m sure, because this isn’t a Hollywood film.  We both wanted to watch it again as soon as it was over.  Pure aesthetic joy.  Kind of like my life with Amy, now that I think about it.  Happy V-Day, Honey-Bunny.  (That’s actually really nice.  Maybe I should take all that other stuff back.  Everything except the part about the pancakes, that is.  Happy V-Day, Pumpkin.)