new! non-sucking weekend!

(Apart from George still valiantly hanging on in his fight to remain dead, obviously.)

Managed to avoid any George Harrison tributes, which would've just added lemon juice to the razor blade. Couldn't find anything to read that appealed, and ended up with, of all things, William Gibson's Idoru, finding it quite satisfactory.

Saturday we went to see Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. "We" in this case being the Parental Unit and I. The PU is, in her way*, a Harry Potter geekoid and has been het up to see this thing for weeks. We're in the theater 40 minutes early (first theater sold out and we got shuttled to the second) and have our choice of seats. Hogshead of popcorn, gallon-drum sodas in Special Harry Potter Collector's Cups[TM]. She's slowing devolving into a six-year-old - "I want to see how they do the owl. I want to see how they zoom around on broomsticks and play that game, whatsis, Cabbage. Who's playing that one teacher who helps Harry?" I'm imagining her at the debut of Gone With the Wind: "Vivien Leigh? What's she been in?"

Needless to say, we have a fine old time, nudging each other and giggling. "Molly Weasley! There's the twins! There's Ginny!" "There's the Little Shit!**" And while two-and-a-half hours didn't quite fly by, neither did they weigh heavily. "That was like sitting through Gone With the Wind,"*** I told her, "Except good." She couldn't hit me because she was holding her purse and the popcorn bag. I snagged one of the junior-size Special Harry Potter Collector's Cups[TM] out of the garbage. She's peppering me with questions all the way home. "How'd they get the owls to do that? How'd they get the snake to do that. How'd they do the game thing? Where's that castle?" I hate to tell her, 'cause she's always disappointed when I have to answer a movie question with "CGI."

(Did anybody else feel like saying, "Camelot!" "It's only a model!" "Sh!" whenever they had a long shot of Hogwarts?)

So that was cool.

Now, I'm one of those folks who thinks Chris Columbus' work should earn him a place in Filmmaking Hell, and was downright alarmed when I heard he'd be directing. He's one of the few people who's managed to make a Sherlock Holmes movie that's downright bad. (Most Holmes films, when they sin, commit the sin of boredom. His was friggin' godawful.) Don't even start me on what he did to Bicentennial Man. So it is through clenched teeth that I say the movie was groovalicious, and I will go again.

She wants to see "The Monsters" next. I'm pretty sure that means Monsters Inc. Maybe I'll mess with her head. "How'd they do that?" "Guys in suits, and some genetic engineering. John Goodman spent 16 hours in the makeup chair every day, and got a horrible corrosive skin condition from the dyed yak fur. He's sueing Disney for $30 million." "Really?" "No. It's CGI."

*Her way being the way of someone who has a much-loved stuffed Hedwig but cannot remember its name, and who has been slogging through Goblet of Fire for over a year.

**Mom-speak for Draco Malfoy.

***Something we did for a 70s re-release. Really well-made movie populated by utterly hateful characters who deserve what they get and worse.

(no subject)

If I was a work of art, I would be Piet Mondrian's Composition A. I am rigidly organised and regimented, although my cold and unapproachable exterior hides a clever way of thinking and a rebellious and innovative nature. A lot of people don't understand me, but I can still affect them on an emotional level. Which work of art would you be? The Art Test

more weekendy goodness

Saturday night I had to go out for...I forget, milk or tampons or power steering fluid or something. At Target I muddled over the Harry Lego sets, my greedy little id whining for the full Hogwarts set, or at least Hagrid's Hut, but mollified by the l'il Harry and Quirrel set, and a Steven Spielberg cameraman to film them. Quirrel is adorable, with a bonus feature that I won't describe in case you've never read the books or seen the movie. Put the bits together during a docu on spree killings, then hunted up my small cache of Lego day players, and managed to cobble together a couple of Weasleys (Charlie and Bill), a Dementor, most of a Centaur (he needs a torso brick), and a couple of Hogwarts ghosts. The best ghost is a little skeleton (from an Egyptian set) wearing a helmet and goggles. Cameraman got the head of one of the girl Rock Raiders and is now a camerawoman.

Then got a lovely surprise, when our PBS station ran a Firesign Theater concert - followed by Blackadder Back and Forth! Le contented sigh.

Sunday was chock full of weather so nice you could hit it with a stick, and an accumulation of really nice decorated paper. Sunday night I got to see most of Prince of Egypt, which is a story about a little Hebrew orphan baby who grows up to star in two animated movies simultaneously, one really good and cool and scary with some neat songs, the other a retarded musical featuring the modern equivalent of "Where There's A Whip There's A Way" from Rankin/Bass' The Return of the King. Eventually the cool movie wins, and the Jewish people are saved from anything bad ever happening to them again. It was also a bit like Akira and X, except that instead of every other line being "KANEDA!!!" or "KAMUI!!!" it was "MOSES!!!"

Two lessons to take away from this movie: God is a serious badass whom you really shouldn't fuck with, and nobody likes a crappy song.

want one want one want one!!!

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