Lazy Days and Sundays

Yesterday a casual observer to our home would have noticed the sort of laid-back atmosphere that generally one might see with a carbon monoxide leak. With the sub-zero temperatures outside, we had but one goal for the day: don’t go outside. So, a very casual day of hanging out was had by all. Jude curled up onto Jeff’s lap and he was the first casualty, drawn into a deep sleep. Jeff was next. With a small child on his lap, I suppose he had no choice but to surrender also to naptime. I was the lone hold out against sleep and I lay down on the couch and turned on The Brothers Grimm so that I could be amused while the men around me napped. After 45 minutes, I had to pause the movie, as I too needed a nap. I took a brief little 20-minute nap, then set about to watch the rest of Grimm.
While I can’t exactly say that I am sorry that I watched the movie, neither am I jumping for sheer ecstasy for having seen the movie either. It wasn’t that it was a bad movie, but rather that it was just okay. Sometimes I felt like I was missing something, like some crucial bit of plot had somehow been edited out. It was a very dark movie, cool to look at, but really nothing more. I was disappointed. I am a huge fan of Terry Gilliam’s other movies, so this felt like a letdown. I would recommend, though, Brazil (and obviously here I mean the director’s cut and not the bullshit “Love Conquers All” version because they really are two totally different movies) and Twelve Monkeys. Both are grim visions, but Brazil has some really funny moments and Monkeys astounded me with how good it was. Outstanding performances all around. I watched both movies alone the first time I saw them and normally I don’t mind watching films alone, but afterward, wanted to talk about both, as they really pressed my geek buttons.
Ah, speaking of geek, the promised review of Art School Confidential. If you love yourself (and I am assuming that you do), then don’t bother with this film. Actually it isn’t a bad movie, really – or so I told myself through the first half of the movie. Then, at the end I felt an incredible sense that mimicked my first clumsy sexual experience, that of “oh, well that wasn’t very good, was it?” Much of the problem was with the main character, whose name, if I remember correctly was Whiny Whinestein. I could be a little off on the name, but his sole character trait was his ability to out-whine the art school competition. I suppose the movie had a happy ending, but I wasn’t really sure whether it was supposed to be happily cynical or depressingly cynical. No matter: I wipe my hands of the whole affair. I then dried my hands on a canvas, making unusual shapes and smears and am selling that lovely piece of art here on my blogsite if anyone is interested.