Missy | January 31, 2004

I can’t seem to maintain any sort of consistency with this blog. Sometimes I can hardly contain the urge to post, and other times (like now) I have fleeting ideas for potential topics (I mean, it’s not like I’ve been sitting around doing nothing, nor has my life been particularly uninteresting) but I can’t seem to harness words or energy.

Seriously, here’s all I can come up with:
“I watched the miniseries Traffic and my reactions were mixed.”
“I saw personal live-show favorite, Les Savy Fav. Who rocks the party like they rock the body?”
“A friend of mine had mono for a month–complete with a ruptured spleen–thus demonstrating that adults well-past college graduation can and do get mono.”
“Oscar noms: Surprisingly not as stupid as they could be, but (for example) where’s the Peter Sarsgaard love? Also: Yay City of God!”

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Missy | January 25, 2004

I went out for a walk post-SatC (which was a pretty moving episode) because the Golden Globes are boring, and I promptly fell on my butt. I wanted to enjoy the snowstorm while it’s fresh and there are no cars or people out mucking up the roads & sidewalks. (Sadly, that photo was the best of the bunch, which is what happens when you don’t use a flash, walk while you shoot, and hold the camera in front of you without using any viewfinder.)

By the way, (speaking of the Globes), who knew it was possible for Nicole Kidman to look awful?

I had a rough class today because I was hungover because I didn’t eat dinner before going to the ballet and then to a party at Julian’s. Everyone was a little saucy when I got there: Gene was like my own personal comedian (even though I still think your theories on addiction are wack); because of the ass-cold, it was imperative to keep a fire going, which Will fed by tearing up an issue of Reason (there’s a metaphor in there somewhere); what else? I live 3.5 blocks from Julian but took a cab home.

The ballet was pretty great. The apprentice corps had some footwork issues in “The Four Temperaments”, but the principal cast was terrific. Because I didn’t pay attention to my seating assignment when I ordered the ticket online, I ended up in the front row. I was worried I would get sweated upon. From my vantage pointe (hah!) I could see one dancer’s stage fright (shaky hands) and I knew when the choreography got challenging from the grunting. “Sonatine” was so, so delicately performed, particularly by Michelle Jiminez (known as a wonderful technician), who earlier in the fall surprised us all with her fiery performance in Forsythe’s “In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated”. The show closed with the first act of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, which was nice, if a bit overwhelming for the eyes with the set design & costumes.

Speaking of ballet, I saw The Company, which I have expended energy writing about for an online discussion group, so I plan to keep it brief here: Altman is a motherf*cking genius. Okay, a little more: it’s Altman at his best, with little discoveries within a microcosm and a myriad of stories to tell. But he presents those little stories and then promptly moves on. It’s true that I’ve got issues with Neve Campbell’s dance ability, along with the pieces chosen, but the film is ultimately about a job, unglamorized and unsentimentalized. Also, I have been having dreams about snapping my achilles tendon.

UPDATE: Sarah’s Globes-alization, as you might imagine, gets right to the point.

I forgot earlier to post about my new favorite song. Do your remember in Beverly Hills Cop when they go to the strip joint, and there’s that song, “Nasty Girls”, playing? That was awesome. has been using a remix of it to sort of fun up our across-the-floor combos. Come to think of it, it’s become *everybody’s* favorite song, which means only one thing: deep down we are all nasty girls.

Speaking of making up words and phrases like “Globes-alization” and “fun up”, you should read Chuck Stephens’ hilarious take on Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle (a movie for which I give neither a rat nor its ass) in the latest Film Comment. It is reason #117 why I would never aspire to write professionally, not when writing like that exists in the world. Unfortunately, it’s not available online, which makes me pretty lame for even bringing it up. But you will learn phrases like “Suzuki-kooky”! I’m serious; go to the bookstore and thumb through the issue until you find it. It’s only 1 page. You can do it.

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Missy | January 23, 2004

Today:

I woke up and my legs felt like anvils. While I haven’t been very good at sticking to my New Years resolutions (which I had previously thought would be easy to keep if I made them simple and precise, even if they were only half-serious), I have been working extra hard at my yoga and at my modern dancing. The downside is that any kind of movement is difficult and my right knee is making funny noises.

Also, there was apparently some West Wing or other filming this morning right outside my window (albeit three floors down), but because I am apparently paralyzed, I never made it over to the window to watch and gawk. (Plus I was so engrossed in my work.) The caterer truck seems to still be hanging about out there, which makes me wonder if I can pass as a third production assistant or something and grab some chow.

I can’t believe it, but I think I will be putting off seeing The Company today in favor of a happy hour. I am pretty elusive when it comes to happy hours these days, but there’s been too much twisting of my arms into knots and I suddenly feel bad for resisting. So off I go. (Not now, of course. It’s only 11:30 in the morning.)

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Missy | January 19, 2004

Sex and the City:
Once again, the “To Have or Not to Have” question comes up. I thought the show covered and covered well having children in prior episodes with Miranda and Charlotte, but I suppose it’s time to get our self-absorbed main character involved this time around. Sorry, catty. (And when did these women get to be 38? Apparently the time in between seasons moved faster than real time.) Anyway, as a formerly single person in her 30’s, I can sympathize with the issue since I’ve long thought I never wanted children, but that doesn’t mean I automatically prefer the decision to be taken away from me from the man’s end. Truth is, I was never in a relationship where it came up, mostly because the future possibilities (or lack thereof) of those relationships did not dictate talking about it. Now I am in a relationship, and although our future is still open-ended, I can no longer emphatically say I don’t want children. I really just don’t know, but I do know that once a meaningful relationship came along, I softened in my prior assumptions. For those of us who have always preferred to be childless, I guess it’s not a question one can fully answer until such a relationship comes along…which means the result can be awkward if not heartbreaking. I wonder: Let’s say I got hitched years ago, back when I was rigid in my childless beliefs. What would happen as I matured, and especially once the clock started ticking? That would be unfair to my childless-believing hypothetical spouse. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about such hypotheticals, and I’m glad I’ve matured at my own pace–ultimately, whether consciously or subconsciously, I’ve thus far made the right decisions for myself. I also still have some time on my side. (And I’m not “should-ing myself”, as was the subject of the episode. Sometimes I think it’s nice that people have a path planned out, but speaking for myself, I guess I’d rather fly by the seat of my pants than be disappointed when I’m not achieving my goals according to some timeline.) As for fictional Carrie, I find it hard to believe that she never considered the question before now–how does one get to be 38 before asking herself these questions, particularly when one friend may never have children while another gets pregnant accidentally out of wedlock and decides to keep the baby?–but hey, it’s tv.

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Missy | January 17, 2004

Boy did I have a day! I spent it at the National Gallery of Art, first seeing the Rothko murals for, I think, the fourth time. This was in preparation for a documentary (made for the BBC) on Rothko. The murals are enormous in scale and somber in nature with deep reds and browns, and were mostly commissioned for the Seagram building in New York but were later withdrawn when Rothko found out that what he thought was going to be a cafeteria for the building’s workers was to become the high-class Four Seasons restaurant. Also, when the film started in with the Arvo P

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Missy | January 12, 2004

Sex and the City last night was, note for note, pretty much pitch perfect. (I apologize for that cliche.) I’m not sure my friends and I would be practically barfing over a guy writing a song for me, but too much romanticism does indeed scream “Trying Too Hard!” and can be a pretty big turn-off…unless I’m already crazy about the dude. Which brings me back to Carrie and Aleksandr: I still don’t think we’ve actually seen them have any kind of real rapport or even a conversation; sorry, this relationship is a bad way to end the series. Maybe the writers are trying to sell it as a “grown-up” relationship for Carrie, but it’s not sitting well with me. (The rest of the episode made me tear up, just a little.)

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Missy | January 11, 2004

As if I wouldn’t blog about this. Humor me. Although Michelle Kwan skates more hesitantly these days, and I think her programs hit their peak circa 1998 (with the double-whammy of Rachmaninoff and “Lyra Angelica”–even though her layback spins needed work then), Kwan’s short program to Peter Gabriel’s “The Feeling Begins” (with her sassy Vera Wang costume–a different one than pictured here–and one which frankly I was afraid she was about to fall out of, if you know what I mean) is reminiscent of the emotion & imaginative choreography of those earlier works. Her long program, “Tosca”, is much better than last season’s (or the season before; I can’t remember) “Scheherazade”, which was dreadful in that I hate that piece of music, and it was obvious that she was then coaching herself. Also, those scribbles on her boots are the autograph of Karl Malone–apparently an inspiration to longevity. Oh, and by the way, she won the US Championships for the eighth time.

PBS is airing a 1984 documentary about George Balanchine–one of the most prolific and innovative choreographers ever–this week, in celebration of what would have been his 100th birthday this year. Later this month they will be featuring two Paul Taylor works.

What else? The sickness going around caught up with me and my cold medicine made me all twitchy last night (so I’m underslept). I’m skipping Dogville today, which is probably a good thing, since when I went to catch an early matinee of the 1966 documentary documentary-STYLE film The Battle of Algiers yesterday downtown in the biting cold, it was sold out. I imagine all of Washington will turn out for this one-time-only (until it’s distributed) screening of the Von Trier. No thank you.

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Missy | January 5, 2004

Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Mihow, who eloped this weekend. (I was forewarned, which is probably a good thing because I’d probably otherwise be peeing my pants right now.)

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Missy | January 4, 2004

I can’t hold out any longer, people. As I’ve said before, Sony Pictures Classics can bite me, because I cannot wait 12 more days to see The Company, which would undoubtedly make this list (and as such, I reserve the right to add it in later on). Also, I did not see critically-praised The Son; if it had a DC theatrical release, then I was oblivious to that fact.

Here we go (links are, where possible, to official sites–some with audio; in some cases they are links to trailers or IMDB):

1. Gerry (Gus Van Sant): Humor, youth, futility, and mortality. This film haunted me like no other this year, and features the most beautiful cinematography and imagery of the year.

2. The Fog of War (Errol Morris): I am no political historian, so I hung on every one of Robert McNamara’s words. It can be argued that the film is one man’s look back on his involvement during extremely trying times and attempting to clear his conscience, but history is a great lesson, and Morris allows McNamara to speak as much as he was willing without trying to vilify him. If you can get past some of Morris’ imagery and the occasionally annoying Glass music, this film is a keeper.

3. Capturing the Friedmans (Andrew Jarecki): I was initially a little mixed on this film because I wasn’t sure what to believe. In the end, the film is about the destruction of family due to a community’s need to demonize one man’s illness at all costs for their own peace of mind.

4. Dracula: Pages from a Virgin’s Diary (Guy Maddin): This year’s other ballet movie, except that the film is less a ballet film and more a loving–and humorous–tribute to the silent era.

5. Bus 174 (Jose Padilha): A tragic bus hijacking is examined from virtually every angle, including an in-depth look at the poverty and treatment of Rio’s street kids. A heartbreaking film.

6. School of Rock (Richard Linklater): The year’s most delightful film. *Everybody* can find something to love in this movie.

7. The Man Without a Past (Aki Kaurismaki): My biases are probably showing, since I’ve come to dig Kaurismaki. His actors may be wooden, and his blocking of them may be obvious, but there’s an undercurrent of optimism that I found enchanting.

8. American Splendor (Shari Springer Berman & Robert Pulcini): I never got into comics of any variety–or comics-turned-films, for that matter–but this live action comic/biopic was as touching as it was funny, thanks in part to a strong cast (even if they are brilliantly aping actual people) and Harvey Pekar’s endearing pessimism.

9. City of God (Fernando Meirelles and Katia Lund): The other Rio de Janiero film of this year, also about violence and crime, this time featuring a kid to tries to pull himself out of it all. Maybe I’m a sucker for harrowing docudramas (I’m already admittedly a fan of documentaries–and boy was this a good year for documentaries!) showing a world I could never imagine in my own mind, but City of God mixes turbulence with an odd poeticism.

10. Irreversible (Gasper Noe): (I’ll probably have some ’splainin to do; Josh, I’m sorry, I know you hated this film.) At first my reaction was horror was mixed with awe, but as the film went on, my reaction fell toward middling….until an online conversation helped me unpeel and sort out layers I was previously overlooking. This is a film about violence, violence begetting violence, issues of identity and what is “normal” (and violations of those views begetting rage), and in the end, the sad fact that you can’t get back what’s lost.

Honorable Mentions (in no particular order): Friday Night (Claire Denis), Raising Victor Vargas (Peter Sollett), Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola), Shattered Glass (Billy Ray), All the Real Girls (David Gordon Green).

Listmaker that Hasn’t Actually Been Distributed: The Five Obstructions (Lars Von Trier & Jorgen Leth).

Biggest Disappointment: The Secret Lives of Dentists (Alan Rudolph). I don’t know how one character (and more importantly, the actor playing him) can singlehandedly ruin a movie for me, but Dennis Leary more than offest the performances of two actors whom I like & respect (Hope Davis and Campbell Scott) and left the worst post-film taste in my mouth of the year.

Favorite Scenes: Most endearing: the bowling alley dance in All the Real Girls. For mood & technical achievement: the scene at The Rectum [that's the name of a club] in Irreversible. (I’m sure there’s more, but my aging mind is sometimes prohibitive.)

Best Direction: For technical achievement: Peter Jackson, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. And for coming back and doing what he does best, Gus Van Sant (Gerry and Elephant). Honorable Mentions: Olivier Assayas, demonlover (even though sometimes I didn’t know what the hell was going on, the film featured on of the best evokings of mood) and Quentin Tarantino, Kill Bill: Volume I, for its mixed media, creepy opening scene, fun-to-watch fighting, and that nifty tracking shot at the resturant.

This was a sorry year overall for acting, but here are my picks nonetheless:
Best Acting, Male: Paul Giamatti, American Splendor; Bill Murray, Lost in Translation; and Philip Seymour Hoffman, Owning Mahowny.

Best Acting, Female: Charlotte Rampling, Swimming Pool; Lindsay Lohan, Freaky Friday (yeah, you read that right); and Oksana Akinshina, Lilja 4-Ever (for Josh, and also to balance out my three picks for the Male category).

Best Supporting Acting, Male: Peter Sarsgaard, Shattered Glass

Best Supporting Acting, Female: Patricia Clarkson, The Station Agent (although I didn’t see her supposedly good performance in Pieces of April, and she did the best any actor could with her role in All the Real Girls).

Best Acting, Ensemble: 21 Grams (Naomi Watts, Sean Penn–finally a performance I can get behind!, Benicio Del Toro, and Melissa Leo).

Best Acting, Under Age-12 Division: Sarah and Emma Bolger, In America.

Best Actor, Prettiest Division: Orlando Bloom as Legolas, in The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. (C’mon, you knew that was coming.)

I think that’s it. Thanks for letting me barf all this out; I feel a big weight off my shoulders. Now on to 2004!

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Missy | January 2, 2004

Happy New Year! It’s been quiet around these parts (which is nice) and when I have been at work, it’s been productive. Here’s to more of all that.

My resolutions are short, to the point, and probably boring. They are:

1. Ballet class at least once per week. I’ve been dropping in whenever I feel like it, but that’s not good enough. Ballet is to dance what grammar is to language. It is technique, structure, and discipline. I took class this morning and already I feel great.

1a. See more dance performances. This includes (but is not limited to) and Male Choreographer’s Showcase at the K Center Millenium Stage this Friday (where my modern teacher will be performing a duet I’m told is “provocative”), Merce Cunningham, ABT (of course), and Ballet Frankfurt, which is sadly changing up its structure after this year (artistic director William Forsythe is leaving, which is a shame because he & his company are probably the most electrifying thing out there in the dance world right now–at least that’s what I hear).

2. Read more non-fiction. In fact, I’m reading three non-fiction books right now.

2a. Stop reading three books at the same time. (This isn’t grad school, you ninny.)

3. Create a better system for keeping track of the films I see and my reactions to them. Create *a* system, really. My occasional blog posts and scratches on notebook paper aren’t cutting it. (Rest assured I will not actually be taking notes while I watch films.)

3a. There’s some interesting film stuff coming up, and I fear overdosing. A Danish film series and an Ozu restrospective at the National Gallery, a Kieslowski series (Three Colors Trilogy and The Decalogue–I’ve seen only four of the ten) at the AFI, showings of Chaplin’s Modern Times and Fellini’s I Vitelloni at the AFI, etc, etc. I doubt I’ll be home much during the month of January.

4. Watch less television, though I’m afraid with the last of Sex and the City and Friends and a new season of The Sopranos and Curb Your Enthusiasm, this will be difficult to achieve. That said, my days are more peaceful and productive when don’t even turn on the teevee.

Today I initially had plans to go shopping to blow some Christmas money, but I just received Season 5 of Sex and the City, which means some binge-watching is in order, which means that (given empirical evidence) when I do go shopping, I’ll be buying clothes that are weirder and more expensive. *sigh*

Have a super 2004 everyone!

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