September 18th, 2004

little review

Poem for Saturday

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That poem makes me think obscurely of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which in turn makes me think of Kirsten Dunst, so it is in fact appropriate to this post, in a roundabout way. I have just had what began as an unenthralling chore-infested day -- met my husband at lunchtime with a real estate bank guy to sign refinancing papers, then ran out to get birthday presents for two eight-year-olds whose parties my younger son will be attending this weekend (one bowling, the other at a park and we are all hoping Hurricane Ivan cooperates, aren't we, vertigo66?). This evening the area was under alternating tornado and thunderstorm watches, and we have seen a good deal of lightning, but the hurricanes seem thus far to have confined themselves to Virginia -- hope everyone there and further south is okay.

Anyway, after a fairly successful present-buying trip (I found the Fairie Queene Barbie on the shelf at Toys R Us *ahem*) and a very successful run to the bookstore to get older son more Redwall books to take to Outdoor Education next week (where Simon Baker's book on retracing the Endeavour voyage jumped off the bargain table at me), my parents announced that contrary to previous rumor they would not babysit for us tomorrow night so we could go see Wimbledon, at which point we announced that we were then bailing on Rosh Hashanah leftovers with them tonight as they could clearly feed our children and watch them tonight since they had expected all of us for dinner anyway. We then had a near-perfect evening, for our local theater has a deal with California Tortilla: a burrito, a drink and a movie ticket for $11.99 ($10.99 on weekdays). This means that I had a lime chicken burrito for less than I would have spent on junk at the movies. And since we got there nice and early, we were forced to kill time by going to Ben and Jerrys for dessert.

Wimbledon was an utter delight. It is not a spoiler to say that you can predict every single thing that happens in the movie twenty minutes before it happens, even if you know absolutely nothing about tennis -- if you have ever seen a romantic comedy or a sports movie, you know the formula. However, this in no way interferes with the pleasures of the film and in fact provides a certain comfort zone, since you never have to worry that these two charming people will come to any grief. They're beautiful, they're rich, they're famous, they're witty, they should be far more despicable than they are, but in fact I feel about Peter and Lizzie much as I feel about Paul Bettany and Kirsten Dunst, namely that if people are going to be beautiful and rich and famous and witty, they may as well be likeable and friendly and schlep their own gear. I used to watch Wimbledon religiously with my father, and though in the years since I have had children I have lapsed in this as all my sports enthusiasms, I found the tennis reasonably believable and the supporting cast quite wonderful (Bernard Hill and Eleanor Bron, whoooo!) It's also a lot of fun that McEnroe, Evert and Carillo all play themselves, covering the tournament for NBC.

I must agree with Paul that this is the best romantic comedy about tennis ever made. Also, I must know more about Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, who played his practice partner of ambiguous sexual orientation...goddamn, he's in Black Hawk Down. There is a conspiracy to make me watch that movie, I swear -- every time I see a guy and think ooh, he's cute, it turns out that he was in that film. I tried to watch it and it was just too violent -- I couldn't stand it. But, I mean, Josh and Ewan and Jason and Eric and Hugh and Orlando and Ioan and it just goes on and on...and hey! Nikolaj is in Kingdom of Heaven with Orlando too, and Liam and Jeremy and David and Sid. So many men, so...few roles worth shit for women. Hmm, that isn't what I meant to say, surely.

Since I have neglected to have a Gratuitous Patrick O'Brian Squee Post in awhile, I thought I should mention that if Jack and Stephen were so married before The Wine-Dark Sea, this book tells the story of their second honeymoon. Collapse )