Monday Mania

I hate being sick. It always happens to me at the most inopportune times, like during the summer or over the Christmas holidays. And what's worse is that this is a simple case of a miserable cold, which means that I'm too healthy to skip off work and read magazines all day, but I feel like crap and every moment that I'm not curled up in bed in the fetal position is pure agony. I'm always getting colds, but what I'd really like is to change it up with the flu. I know the flu sucks, but at least everyone coddles you, brings you soup, and is always ready to buy you some DVDs or books to keep your mind off of the pain. I'm currently in my stuffed nose phase; yesterday was the sore throat, and this morning was the runny nose. At work, I seriously felt like I had snot dripping down my chin every five minutes, which it probably was, but I was in too much of a daze to notice. If all goes according to plan, this evil bug will next give me headaches and the chills. Yay.

But enough about my complaints regarding my ailing health. Let's complain about something else.

I watched two films over the weekend that have been sitting in my room for a while (courtesy of Ben, whom I bug endlessly for films that I never get around to watching). The first was Shop Girl (2005), with Steve Martin, Claire Danes, and Jason Schwartzman. I really like Claire Danes -- I thought she was simply gorgeous and raw and brilliant in "My So-Called Life." I don't really have any opinion whatsoever on Steve Martin or Jason Schwartzman, but I will say that I haven't watched a Steve Martin film since Grand Canyon.

Shop Girl was unexpectedly depressing. I remember shutting off the DVD player and feeling a sense of unnerving sadness wash over me. I guess I'm used to life being erratic and unpredictable and strange, but in my films, I still yearn for a happy ending. That's probably why I try to steer clear of disturbing and surreal David Lynch and Larry Clark movies. Pluses: All of the major characters are deeply flawed, which helps to keep interest when the script is wonky and too heavy-handed at times, and the editing leaves many open questions. Claire Danes shines even when she's crying over stupid older men, and Jason Schwartzman cleans up well. Minuses: Steve Martin employs a voice-over at (I believe) three intervals in the film, and I could have done without it. I don't particularly like narration as exposition, and this one was blatantly trying to tie everything together. Show, don't tell! Also, I couldn't help but be distracted by Steve Martin's heavy use of purple eyeliner. At least, that's what I think it was.

The second film was Pride and Prejudice (2005), with Kiera Knightley and a whole cast of British actors that I have never seen before in my life, and a couple of non-British actors that I vaguely recognize. For some reason, Jena Malone is there as the flirty and flighty Bennett sister. Oh, and there is Donald Sutherland, whose great and immense career gives him too much of a leeway when it comes time to bust out the British accent. He mumbles a lot throughout, which kind of gives the illusion of a lazy accent but is probably a result of him being bored with the part. Although there are about 1,287 versions of Pride and Prejudice floating out there, I'd never seen any of them, although it's pretty clear that by the first frame of Kiera Knightley's angelically stunning face that no one in Georgian England could possibly resist her. Despite the predictability of the plot, and Judi Dench's really mean Lady Catherine de Bourg, the film was overall an enjoyable diversion, and I got my happy ending fix. Also, I learned many things I would not have previously known, like: English people love balls (as in dance balls, not the other kind, you cheeky freak), English women live for balls, everything happens at a ball, and if you look like Kiera Knightley, some rickety but dashing gentleman is still going to call you "plain."

And lastly: What's the scuttlebutt? I can't wait for this. I'm about as excited as the time I went out and bought the first Ace of Base cassette.

Signing off now so I can drug myself and have some sweet, sweet slumber,
Christine