I am not sure how we started picking Mingo up in strange ways. Like this. But he loved it. Loved it. And begged for it. And actually, still begs for it. But it seemed really weird and creepy so we asked the vet and she said don’t do it. So we don’t.
But it makes for a wild photo.
In today’s New York Times. Probably the best thing to read as an antitode to creepy and cruel speculation, but not an antitode to grief. An excerpt:
The dismaying sense of loss and waste at Mr. Ledger’s death at 28 comes not only because he was so young, but also because his talent was large and as yet largely unmapped. It seems inevitable that he will now be inscribed in the cult of the beautiful stars who died too young, alongside James Dean, Montgomery Clift and Marilyn Monroe. Even before his death he had been ensnared in a pathological gossip culture that chews up the private lives of celebrities, and Tuesday’s news unleashed the usual rituals of media cannibalism.
Mr. Ledger’s work will outlast the frenzy. But there should have been more. Instead of being preserved as a young star eclipsed in his prime, he should have had time to outgrow his early promise and become the strange, surprising, era-defining actor he always had the potential to be.
A couple of weeks ago, Zap2It did a photo feature on what actors could play what presidential candidates. (The feature doesn’t seem to be available anymore, but you can find individual photos by searching for candidate names.)
As Barack Obama, they suggested Harry Lennix. And both before and after I clicked through to see who they selected, I was thinking, “It should be that guy who played an epidemiologist on ER. He was in Ray. That guy.”
That guy who, when I saw Ray, I remembered him as the guy from ER, and looked him up, and then afterwards I still couldn’t remember his name. That guy.
So after I finished looking at the photo essay, I looked up ER and Ray. “That guy”? Harry Lennix. Which I couldn’t figure out from looking at his picture and seeing his name, only from looking up things I’d seen him in.
I transferred money to cover a withdrawal, and the transfer won’t be in until tomorrow, so Chase Bank sent me an email.
And then another.
And then another.
A total of 262931 since 10 pm this evening, trying to make the same payment. All of them saying they will try 3 times and then give up.
Chase: Give. The fuck. Up.
If I was Deep and Important and Serious-Minded, I’d blog about Jose Padilla. Instead, I’m moved to write about Heath Ledger.
Few portrayals have moved me as deeply as Ledger’s Ennis Del Mar. As he aged in the movie, growing more closed-in, more shut-off, he was more and more like my ex-boyfriend. I suppose I related to Jack Twist, waiting for my “audience,” not knowing how to quit him. And it was heartbreaking. Brokeback Mountain is not a “four hankie” movie or whatever, not for me, it’s a gut-wrenching, sobbing, hankies won’t help experience. And even with all that emotional involvement, it didn’t elude me how subtle and nuanced and frickin brilliant Ledger’s performance was.
So I’m really sad. I think he would have been brilliant, purely brilliant, in dozens more movies. Only now he won’t.
May he find peace and be born again.
What with Oscar nominations and Blog for Choice, I totally forgot I owed you all trivia. Please forgive me. Try to go on with your lives. It’s only 7 days until next Tuesday.
Well, there may not be an Oscars ceremony, but the nominations are in. And my score sucks.
Best Picture: I’ve seen NONE! None I say! (Atonement, Juno, Michael Clayton, No Country for Old Men, There Will Be Blood). I really do want to see all of them.
Best Actor: I’ve seen two (Viggo in Eastern Promises, Depp in Sweeney Todd) and I intend to see one or two more (not Valley of Elah, thanks).
Best Actress: I’ve seen one (Julie Christie, Away From Her). I intend to see two more.
I could go on but it remains about that pathetic.
Here’s a thing about “Blog for Choice:” It’s really important to ask what the choice is. What is being chosen?
I’m finally coming to terms with the notion that I’m aging. Like, getting older. Like, I had to see my gynecologist about perimenopause, because I was having some difficulties. The doctor ended up prescribing the Pill. And I said to him, “You know, I’m not going to be getting any of the ancillary benefits out of this thing. I’m not fertile.”
And he said, “There are so many benefits to the Pill, if it wasn’t birth control, everyone would take it.” (He probably didn’t mean everyone. He probably didn’t mean men. Or children. Or, I dunno, pregnant women.)
I’ve been thinking about that a lot, and then Blog for Choice day came around, and it all tied together.
Why does the Pill being birth control prevent it from being used more widely for other things? Okay, in some cases, it’s because someone is trying to get pregnant, but I’m sure that’s not what my doctor meant. It seems to me that it’s because there’s a stigma on birth control.
You would think that anti-abortion activists would be interested in doing the one thing that is statistically proven to reduce the number of abortions: Prevent unwanted pregnancy. And in doing the one thing that prevents unwanted pregnancy: Provide access to birth control and accurate information about preventing pregnancy. But in fact, anti-abortion activists repeatedly oppose these things. They spread misinformation about birth control, claim that Plan B is an abortifacient rather than birth control, promote abstinence-only education which has been repeatedly proven to be a failure, refuse to fill prescriptions for birth control and in other ways prevent access to it…in fact, go out of their way to promote unwanted pregnancies, thereby ensuring the demand for abortion cannot decrease.
This is because these activists are not anti-abortion. They are anti-choice. And the choice they are against is sex. Specifically, women choosing to be sexual. They are anti-female-sexual-choice.
I don’t think the anti-choice movement can ever show its hand in a more horrifying way than in its opposition to the HPV vaccine. Folks, they’re against preventing cancer. Think of that the next time you hear the phrase “pro-life.” Because, you know, the only way to get HPV is to have sex, and we musn’t prevent people from dying of sex!
Anti-choice-to-have-sex. Anti-female-choice-to-have-sex.
Slut shaming. Abstinence-only “education.” Lying about Plan B. Anti-abortion propaganda. It all ties together. It’s all about preventing women from choosing sex.
The Pill can help regulate perimenopausal changes. It can help with menorrhagia and dysfunctional uterine bleeding. It can help clear up adolescent acne. But access to the Pill for these things is problematic because the pill allows women to choose sex.
Beware the word “consequences” in this context. They want to say that the pill allows “sex without consequences,” but what they mean is “sex without punishment.” They want abortion to be inaccessible and HPV vaccines to be off the table, because unwanted pregnancy and cancer are just desserts for sluts who choose to get laid.
It’s so important to remember this. It’s so important to remember that only pro-choice candidates are actually interested in doing things that prevent abortion: Provide real access to preventing unwanted pregnancy through education and birth control.
Eastern Promises (2007) 10/10
Anna (Naomi Watts) is a midwife at a London hospital. Nikolai (Viggo Mortensen), is a driver working for the Russian mafia. When a Russian girl dies giving birth, and leaves a diary behind, their paths cross. Directed by David Cronenberg.
Late fall and early winter are when I catch up on the most acclaimed movies of the year. I still have to review Sweeney Todd (which I saw Christmas day) and I’m trying to get past the waiting list on Netflix for Zodiac and Ratatouille. Meanwhile, buzz is big for Viggo for Best Actor, so here we are.
I’m not an expert on Cronenberg. I know he’s considered all auteur up the whazoo, but it seems this is only the third of his films I’ve seen. So I can’t speak to any Cronenberg thematic elements in this review. Nonetheless, it’s easy to see that Eastern Promises is exquisitely constructed; it works as a straight-ahead gangster thriller, while at the same time exploring interesting themes. The plot twists and turns intelligently; it’s not a movie that’s twisty for the sake of twists, but you can’t easily predict what will happen next.
The acting is solid. Armin Mueller-Stahl as the gang boss, and Vincent Cassel as his spoiled and drunken son are chilling, while Viggo is just stunning. Really, it’s an amazing performance, richly embodied. Every gesture, every facial expression, every nuance of posture, is part of a whole. Apparently, upon getting the role, he simply took off for the Urals on his own, meeting and befriending unsavory types and learning what the character was all about. Naomi Watts has comparatively less to do; the script contrasts her ordinary, above-ground life with the violence and mystery of the underworld, and so Watts is…ordinary. But for that, she is solid and believable, and never cliché.
The film’s title speaks to its theme. Promises, obligations, oaths, and honor permeate Eastern Promises. The gangsters live by a code, vor v zakone (thieves in law), which cannot be broken. The moral obligations of family; father to son, brother to brother, and Anna’s commitment to protect her patient, all come into play. Tension builds as honor and oath come into conflict, as the diary reveals secrets dishonorable to keep.
Viggo’s Nikolai is so interesting in this respect. He is quietly terrifying, and yet in a dozen small ways, reveals himself to be an honorable man. Living by the thieve’s code, violent, cold as ice, he has molded himself into a man of principle, and his principles are being tested by Anna’s interference. What will happen remains, moment-by-moment, a mystery, there is little obvious here, but it all works.
I saw Eastern Promises last night, and woke up thinking about it. I am haunted by these characters and this script and am ready to see the film again.
I usually do the catblogging Thursday night so it’ll show up here Friday morning. I forgot. Sorry. It’s been kind of a week.
