Flaming Zinc

My disjointed ramblings for tonight….

Chris Rock, v funny. Especially the cracks about Russell Crowe and Colin Farrell. Please get him back next year.

Clive Owen lost out to Morgan Freeman for best supporting actor. I can’t begrudge it, as it is long over due, but he should have won for The Shawshank Redemption so Owen could have won it tonight (but I am slightly biased).

Am confused they seem to be doing weird things to the format, sometimes all the nominees are on stage (a bit like the Miss World), then it switched back to traditional style and now Cate Blanchett is hovering in the aisle like an ice cream seller waiting to pounce.

My word, Bouncy is singing in French!

Scarlett Johanson step away from the bleach. Over processed hair is not a good look, please see Christina for advice.

Most embarrassing moment so far- Pierce Brosnan presenting with a cartoon.

No, no, no, no, no Cate Blanchett should not have won. It should have been either Sophie Okonedo or Natalie Portman. Come on, do you think Blanchett would have won it Hepburn had not died in 2003? In real life Hepburn was nominated twelve times but only won four – this does not even the score.

Now did they really loose Catherine Zeta Jones, or was it an unfunny and uncomfortable set up.

Why wasn’t Closer nominated for best adapted screenplay? But, I am glad that Sideways won.

Is that Mickey Rooney in the audience? I thought he was dead.

Bouncy is back with a new friend, two black eyes and a chandelier distributed about her person.

It is nearly 11pm and I am tiring. This is a v sanitised and dull Oscar night – no scandal and no bad dresses.

Come on Imelda, come on Imelda, oh damn it I just knew Hilary Swank was going to get it – boring.

Am losing the will to watch, where is Cher or Bjork when you need them? Oh, Gwennie looks as cute as a button.

Oh, Don Cheadle didn’t win. But he looked suitably pissed, and apparently Jamie Foxx sees dead people.

Big shocker Clint won for directing. Is it me, or do award shows get more vapid and predicable the older you get? And on that note I am off to bed.

I don’t think today can get any better. I got accepted into the University of London’s external programme for a BA Classical Studies, and Bruce Willis wants to do Die Hard 4!

Now I just have to work on getting a pesky job to pay for the degree…..

Today is turning into one hell of an auspicious day – we got approved by the condo board so can move to the new apartment sometime in March, I have got an interview this Friday for a really cool company (positive vibes for 11am EST, please) and tomorrow I should hear if I got on my course. There was a ’sorry we missed you!’ slip in the mail box, except they weren’t sorry to miss me as I was in and they opted to not ring the bell.

Do people, and by people I mean geeks, generally have a set website browsing pattern that they adhere to when they wake? Are your user requirements such that a steaming cup of a caffeine derived drink and coco pops must be consumed before facing cyber space? Or do you dive straight in? Perhaps you have a will of iron and are able to shower and dress, or even make it into the office/school, before checking your emails?

I used to be able to wait till I got to the office, but since 2001 I have had my own laptop and now I have a set routine for early morning surfing (even when I was getting up at 5am). I am sure this habit is born out of cohabiting with a geek, but perhaps others haven’t been assimilated into this collective and I am just weak.

So apart from checking my mail and blog updates via an aggravator, the first five sites that I go to every morning are:

IMDB

Cinescape

Guardian Unlimited

The Independent Online

BBC News

Alex, very smugly, pointed out an article in NewScientist about how dyslexics have slower reaction times when driving than ‘regular’ people. Granted it was a very small sample, but it you’ve ever witnessed me playing computer driving game you could take it as more evidence that I was pre-destined to remain one of life’s passengers. Seriously, thought how was I meant to know that when you try and turn when reversing you have to move the steering wheel in the opposite direction to the one you want to go in! And don’t even get me started on how disorientated I get at Halo2.

My patron also beat me to a post about The Gates project. I have to say I was pretty skeptical about the whole thing, but when I got there and wandered around a bit I had to eat my “whose been tango’d” hat. If it wasn’t so crowded it would have been a serene experience, like being in an episode of Star Trek where they visit an alien but zen like world (perhaps Vulcan). Kudos to the artists who funded it themselves, as corporate sponsorship would have ruined it (logos everywhere – yuk). The park will look very bare, but spacious once everything has been removed – the Christmas tree effect.

It looks like Baz Luhrmann’s vision of Alexander the Great is being resurrected. On the one hand it will be nice to see what he does with it (and it can’t be as bad as Stone’s), but I am not sure about the dull, pretty boy DiCaprio in the lead. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again – Ewan MacGregor for Alexander. You know it makes sense.

Just in case you ever wondered, frosted Cheerios are not a satisfactory substitute for frosted donuts – how long till Easter? I have already started planning my first post-Lent meal out, I see Pylos and two desserts.

Finally, if you are at an impass regarding vacations this year, look no further than here.

(in one film)

I had a severe case of movie theatre jet lag after seeing Gurinda Chadha’s Bride and Prejudice. The exotic locales, riot of colorful clothes and an gluttony of characters. I really enjoyed it – it’s funny, full of sharp observations and plenty of dancing! Jane Austen’s novel sits very comfortably in the Indian setting, with this centuries class conflicts nicely mirroring their 19th century counterparts. This adaptation does not deviate greatly from the original novel, so if you know it back to front (like me) then there are no great surprises but you can concentrate on the singing and delight in how they have updated it. The clergyman replaced with an accountant with a greencard, sister Mary’s terrible performing is now a snake dance, checking for letters is now logging on, and Wickham is a dharma bum. The cast are all wonderful, but there is so much to take in I might need a second sitting to fully appreciate it!

(in two films)

The Wedding Date is the reverse of Pretty Woman. A very non-annoying Debra Messing plays Kat, who hires a male escort to accompany her to her younger sister’s London wedding. Why the subterfuge – her ex is the best-man, silly! Dermot Mulroney is suitably buff and detached as Nick the gigolo. Alas there is no Roberts/Gere chemistry, but it is awash with light frothy slapstick and comedy to keep you amused. There is no sob story as to why Nick has chosen this profession, but we learn that he studied comparative literature and that is why he is always reading (on the plane, in bed, whilst waiting for her) – so he is not just a body, but a brain to boot. The best part of the film is the British supporting cast; the yummy Jack Davenport as the groom, Peter Egan (I think I might have to get Ever Decreasing Circles on DVD) as Kat’s step-father and MIA since Holby City Jeremy Sheffield as the dubious best-man. I must say that even though I have no objection to eye candy like the aforementioned Mr Sheffield, he has started to turn an alarming shade of orange – step away from the SunnyD.

I felt all the better for seeing Swimming Upstream, it is an uplifting tale of a young mans determination to succeed and escape. Set in Brisbane in the 1950s, it focuses on the true story of champion swimmer Anthony Fingleton, and the struggle he faced from his own family. His father was an alcoholic, controlling bully, and young Tony suffered for being his mother’s favorite and not being tough enough in his father’s eyes. Geoffrey Rush and Judy Davis are superb as the volatile parents. Jesse Spencer is suitable angelic and upstanding as the family underdog and champion in waiting. The director Russell Mulcahy built the tension throughout by holding back on the domestic violence until three quarters of the way through. This produced a sense of unease, you knew what was going on behind closed doors without seeing it and it lead, IMO, to a much more empathic experience. When the physical fight scenes came, Mulcahy had a nifty trick of shooting from underneath as if the kitchen floor was transparent. A refreshing approach, for what could be perceived to be a tired kitchen sink style drama.

It has only had a limited release, so most people will really only get to see it via DVD or cable – but it is worth tracking down. I am going to give away the ending, just a bit, because it comes down to a jaw dropping rationalization. Tony, has to choose between Olympic glory or a scholarship to Harvard, and the boy goes for Harvard as it is his best chance to get away. I don’t know why that had such an impact on me, but it did. I am a huge fan of antipodean cinema, well before the success of The Piano, and this is another gem that it has produced. Since I am in a sharing mood some of my favorites from down under: Proof, Picnic at Hanger Rock, Angel at My Table, My Brilliant Career, The Getting of Wisdom, Lantana and of course Young Einstein.

In company there are certain subjects that you try to avoid, traditionally politics and religion, you can now add cartoons to the list. At the weekend, Alex confessed to never seeing any of the Disney animated features. No Cinderella, Fantasia or Lion King, to name just three. The reaction from our friends was equal to Thyestes’ discovery that he had just been tricked into eating on his own children, they looked upon him as a baby barbecuing barbarian.

“You’ve never seen Finding Nemo or Mulan”, they screamed, “What about Bambi, everyone has seen Bambi”.

“Nope”, Alex replied with a slight smirked (me thinks he set the cat among the pigeons on purpose).

Then the interrogation turned to me, and I think they hoped I would set my husband straight. But, I’m afraid that I disappointed them to. The last traditional Disney flick that I saw was Robin Hood and that was nearly eighteen years ago. It was the first video that our mum ever rented, Jonty and I chained viewed it all weekend. But, I think our obsession had more to do with our fascination with the legend – remember Michael Praed in Robin of Sherwood.

Mickey Mouse and his friends, just don’t do it for me entertainment wise. Don’t get me wrong I love traditional fairy tales, but I much prefer either reading them or via the slightly darker Jim Henderson’s The Storyteller approach. I think because my brother and I were raised by celluloid freaks the whole ‘kid friendly animation’ phase was by-passed. We were probably about eleven or twelve when we started to watch more grown-up features, but there was nothing that scarred or traumatized us (or so we think). The parental unit was always present, monitoring our viewing, and it was a far more controlled environment than sneaking off to a friends for some slasher or horror flick. Hmmmm, wasn’t Mum a clever old boot! Under her tutelage we grew up with Woody Allen, Peter Weir, Scorsese, and of course Ridley Scott. Not to mention our Granny’s input of Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, Ealing comedies and World War 2 themed films.

Then throw in an unhealthy amount of Red Dwarf, Bottom and Blackadder, and it probably explains why talking rabbits and candlesticks failed to appeal post single digits.

Another of Daisy’s fine posts is a catalyst for today’s ramblings. I think I blame Enid Blyton for my condition as a narrative junkie. For a child with an obsessive nature all those book series were just too tempting: Famous Five, Mystery Series, Secret Seven, Malory Towers and St. Clare’s. No wonder I am such a fan of the mystery genre I was groomed practically from birth. Another firm childhood favorite is Richmal Crompton’s William and Helen Cresswell’s family of Bagthorpes. For a child on limited means these goodies were easily accessible via trips to the finest jumble sales Peebles had to offer when we were up North visiting Granny Moth. My dealers could supply second hand treasures for as little as 10p – bargain!

As an adult I still take delight in collecting, and seeing an author evolve through their works. I tried to explain to Alex how overwhelmed I felt in bookstores – the sheer number of books out there that I had yet to read. Authors that I’d barely scratched the surface or ones lying in wait. Maybe I should have been methodical, started with the A’s and taken it from there.

Enough blathering, here’s my ‘Ten or more’ and I hope it keeps growing.

Enid Blyton

Alexander McCall Smith

Agatha Christie

Helen Cresswell

Michael Crichton

Richmal Crompton

John Grisham (felt a bit like groundhog day)

Ian Rankin

PG Wodehouse

by way of Daisy.

1. Total amount of music files on your computer:

7.30gb = complete music collection

2. The last CD you bought was:

I don’t tend to buy CD’s, more of an iTunes downloader, and the last one I bought was last Summer ‘Scissor Sisters’ debut.

3. What is the song you last listen to before reading this message:

Radio Song by R.E.M, listen to on my ipod on my way home last night.

4. Write down five songs that you listen to often or mean a lot to you:

*Dumb Things by Paul Kelly (my introduction to Australia music by way of the soundtrack of Young Einstein)

*It’s the End of the World by R.E. M (quick, witty and you end up breathless trying to keep up)

*Don’t Stand So Close To Be by Sting & The Police (I read Lolita because of it)

*In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel (John Cusack flashbacks)

*Englishman in New York by Sting & The Police (big fan of the late, non-dusting Quentin Crisp)

5. Who are you going to pass this stick to and why?

I wont pass it on but would be interested if the G.o.L has some thoughts, or anyone else.