Here's to getting exactly what you hoped for in 2010.

Here's to getting exactly what you hoped for in 2010.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

The stratospheric status of "Up in the Air"

This is always a great time of year for movies. And I've now seen what up to this point is the best movie of the year. Up In The Air has stellar buzz and a crystal clear and 'sleek as far as the horizon is wide' style. In this case, however, it is truly worth the accolades.

George Clooney is at his most spot-on approximation of the legendary Cary Grant as he slinks entirely into the role of Ryan Bingham. He's impeccable. Vulnerable. It's almost as if he were dancing throughout the movie. Unlike almost any other actor - male or female - I think the world has a collective crush on Clooney. But all that optical surface quality misses something larger that I think is the real point of this movie. Clooney inhabits a peerless, devastating position in this otherwise sad, sanitized climate of a movie. Plenty of other reviewers have talked about the timely nature of the story, given our current economic malaise. I believe that misses the larger point by about half.

Much is being made of how Clooney's character has the unenviable task of firing people on behalf of heartless corporations — most squeamishly portrayed during a scene that is meant to take place in Detroit. The people being "let go" look almost entirely like the frighteningly real jobless. Well, that's because they largely were. Director Jason Reitman employed many of them in the roles, playing, in effect, themselves, with the obvious exceptions of J.K. Simmons and Zach Galifianakis. Even the end of credits song came from a laid-off worker who wrote about his own soul-numbing experiences. Ballsy.

But aside from all that "it's tough out there" shorthand, this whip smart movie is about survival. It shows how even the stainless, elevated, beautiful people maybe just don't know what's going on out there in the big, wide, oft-traveled world any longer. The point is that we're all nihilists, I might even leap to argue. At the very least we're meant to imagine that we're all vulnerable. And if we take the time to listen to this very smart film, we can all maybe sit in that chair across from Clooney wondering what's next. 

My rating - a full A.  I believe this movie will be tough to watch for all manner of people.  Get comfortable before doing so.  Bring a chocolate bar.  Take a walk afterward.  If you can, hold someone's hand or call a friend beforehand just to say "hey".  But see it.  If you've got a pick for a better movie this year, I'm glad for you.

Holidaze Diversity, sponsored by Target

Like many families that I've grown to know, we're chest deep into Hanukah and closing in on Jesusmas.  It truly is a stellar time of year.  But for the first time, I'm fully aware of the commercial disparity.  No earth-shaking news there.  Let me explain.

I won't decry those that want to frill it up this time of year.  Personally, I love a Jesusmas tree.  And ours this year is outstanding.  Pun mangled.  Picking a tree out with Maya at our neighborhood lot is a new annual ritual, this year bolstered in its hilarity by her spot-on singing of Hanukah carols (who knew?) as we looked around.  I even got guilted into keeping up neighborly appearances with regard to outside lights.  In short, our place looks frosty festive even as Seattle's weather has turned from clear and cold to damp and gray.

In terms of retail, Target is a controlled riot in December.  The sheer number of aisles for wrapping paper and varied poofy accountremants alone outnumber the space set aside for "Health and Beauty" by my unscientific count.  Each and every last dollar of which is then destined to be either thrown away (can you recycle mirrored foil?) or put into storage for the next 11 months.  Still, go ahead - knock yourself out, America.  

After looking around those aisles yesterday, I asked one of the Target minions where to find the Hanukah stuff.  In plain terms she said, "downstairs, across from the 'clearance' items".  Granted, it was already the 5th of 8 Days into the Festival of Lights.  But throw our Jewish friends a bone and at least put it on the same floor, doncha think?  Well, it got worse.  The Hanukah section was actually just the end of one aisle.  The lamps aisle.  Rimshot.  It featured a few ceramic things (a Star of David cookie jar?  Really?).  A few plates, most of which were plastic.  And, I still can't figure it out, a metal basket.  Just to put in a margin notation in the NSA file of my purchases, I bought Maya a plastic dreidel-festooned cup with that fake lining filled with glitter and stars.  Made in China and not dishwasher safe.  In short, the loneliest little cup in the store.

Luckily, Maya loved it.  That combined with her Hanukah gift last night (a fortune cookie), made for a lovely 5th night.  Tonight we've got a big celebration planned.  A party at her Pre-K, complete with all the standard fare.  Including hash browns.  Love the hash browns.

Hope your own celebrations today are equally momentous.  Rock on.

Tea Time #1 - Maya looks for verification that she'd properly adjusted her tiara.

Tea Time #1 - Maya looks for verification that she'd properly adjusted her tiara.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Before going to an early evening performance of "The Nutcracker", we took Maya out for the full tea time monty at the Queen Mary Tea Room. Lovely spread and she was amped by the end of it. I think we have a new Holidaze tradition in the making.

Tea Time #2 - Just imagine how she would have looked if we'd given her caffeine.

Tea Time #2 - Just imagine how she would have looked if we'd given her caffeine.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Tea Time #3 - Let the sugar do the posing for you.

Tea Time #3 - Let the sugar do the posing for you.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

A drive-by mash-up of "Carving Rushmore", Hugo House and "The Nutcracker"

One fascinating story from earlier this week not only caught my eye, it prompted me to start a new blog project.  The centerpiece is the auction going on today of Cormac McCarthy's old school manual typewriter, with the proceeds going to benefit the Santa Fe Institute.  Aside from the fascinating nature of this old-timey machine having been a writer's primary outlet for his - I'm not afraid to say it - genius, I'm able to tap into an unfocused appreciation of my own.  Manual typewriters.  Cheaper to buy than to ship via eBay.  So if you want to see where this nugget of an idea gets rolling downhill, check out my new project blog - Carving Rushmore.  


It's a big weekend on this end.  I've got an all-day event at Hugo House tomorrow.  Sunday is all about "The Nutcracker" for Maya, Sarah and me.  We're even doing a traditional high tea before the ballet, and getting all fancified for all the fun.  I'll be sure to pass along pics thereafter.  Hope your own calendar also allows ample time to plant bulbs and hang bulbs, of entirely different kinds.  Rock on.

Maya makes her own music.

Maya makes her own music.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

We spent the TurkeySlaughter holidaze in Santa Barbara. A few choice pics follow from that splendid visit.

Auntie Katie shows Maya what most surfer girls are wearing this time of year.

Auntie Katie shows Maya what most surfer girls are wearing this time of year.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Gelato in Montecito. Delicioso.

Gelato in Montecito. Delicious.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Auntie Becca and Sarah frame the Big Cheese.

Auntie Becca and Sarah frame the Big Cheese.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Gotta cut footloose.

Gotta cut footloose.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Giving Momoo some lotion and lovin'.

Giving Momoo some lotion and lovin'.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

"The Road" takes it sadly all the way to Bleaktastic

Movies that are so dark, so challenging that they make even the most dedicated viewers look at their watch after only a few minutes are an acquired taste.  "The Road" is just such a movie.  Boy, is it ever.  I, for one, wish I'd not pulled this choice from the sampler.

I am one of the many that loved Cormac McCarthy's dark little gem, published in 2006.  Since the movie adaptation is obsessively faithful to the spare storyline of the novel, I won't offer up any spoilers.  But the primary reaction I had to the book was stunned wonder that McCarthy had managed to make it so hopeful.  Bleaktastic, if you will.  The problem with the movie is that all the while you're hoping for bleaktastic, you end up with honorably sad.  In short, this movie never should have been made.

That's not to say that any of the performances are bad or that anything about the production design feels even a smidge inauthentic.  John Hillcoat directed masterfully.  Nick Cave (who's worked with Hillcoat often before) did the spare, beautiful music.  The Coal Industry or The Coalition of American Fireplace Manufacturers appear to have done the makeup.  And, if I were especially dark-humored, I would say that People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals did the location catering.  Because there's lots of cannibalism on the screen.  Rimshot.

So what you've got here is a movie that takes you on a two-hour slow grind through all sorts of dark places, both real and allegorical.  Even if you know exactly where it's going because you've read McCarthy's novel, you begin to feel like you don't want to go there.  By the showing, the telling becomes so much less powerful. 

I'll rate this movie a solid B.  Without a recommendation to even the most fervent fans, though.  Certainly everyone involved should feel good about what they've done here.  And maybe someday I'll watch it again and realize that I've misjudged "The Road" and ended up getting off at the wrong place.  For the time being, I'm just glad I could leave the silent theatre after the final scene and step into the sunny afternoon glow of a picaresque Santa Barbara day.  This may all be gone someday and covered in post-apocalyptic sadness.  All the more reason to head out for a nice Mexican meal with family where I guarantee you I'll be looking at the colors not only on my plate, but in the faces of those all around me.