May 31st, 2005

little review

Poem for Tuesday

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Had a quieter but still enjoyable day, getting my articles out of the way early while watching the groundhogs and bunnies out the window, taking the kids to the playground at the YMCA next door to my in-laws' development, then having brunch and going to play miniature golf. We finished just before it started to rain, and left to go home after dinner just before it started to rain, so luck was with us weather-wise. I had the best miniature golf game of my life and beat all five other members of my family. *g*

I realized that I should have squeed more about the things I liked in Cinderella Man rather than muttering about things that have bothered me in every single Hollywood movie I have seen this year, namely: can't anyone write women for shit, why are there so many cliches in film scripts and why must big-name directors retread things they've done instead of taking more interesting risks. The kids are wonderful, which is often not the case in movies with children (I don't-want to see Dakota Fanning almost as much as I don't-want to see Tom Cruise in War of the Worlds), and Russell is completely adorable with them. My absolute favorite scene in the movie is one between Braddock and his older son. The politics, which make pointed references to the current administration as well as the Hoover administration, are quite pleasing though I almost wish they hadn't been kept at the level of metaphor-for-modern-era because the details in the Depression are so important and it makes everything more clear and vivid when one really sees how people lived with absolutely nothing. And there's some very nice, subtle humor between the characters that makes Braddock very likeable. I want to see this one again despite the boxing, and believe me that's saying something.

I read Jasper Fforde on the way home from Pennsylvania, when I stopped looking at the gorgeous post-rain clouds, and have to quote my favorite line from the whole Thursday Next series so far, from The Well of Lost Plots: "Reading is arguably a far more creative and imaginative process than writing; when the reader creates emotion in their head, or the colors of the sky during the setting sun, or the smell of a warm summer's breeze on their face, they should reserve as much praise for themselves as they do for the writer -- perhaps more." This is making me want to reread both Stanley Fish and The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon. I am sleepy, so I shall leave with some prettiness...

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