I may not have seen many movies in May, but I saw a wide variety, including four that I had never seen before (noted with an *). Numbering picks up from previous months, and movies are rated on a scale of one to five cans of tuna fish, five being the pick of the litter (how's that for a mixed metaphor?).
59. Footloose (1984) – Ren McCormick (Kevin Bacon) is a spiky-haired fish out of water, a city kid stuck living with relatives in a small, repressed Midwestern town that prohibits music and dancing. Ariel Moore (Lori Singer) is the prototypical preacher’s kid – wild, rebellious and ready to party despite the protestations of the Rev. Moore (John Lithgow). Ren looks different from the other kids, dresses differently and wonders aloud why all the fuss about letting kids dance. Thanks to his persistence, the Reverend comes around – and you knew he would – to understand that Satan isn’t in the dancing and there is joy and exuberance in creative expression. A catchy, fun soundtrack and a great dance sequence closes the movie, with the town teenagers kicking up their heels at last. I always wondered how these kids became such expert dancers in a town that didn’t allow dancing, but, that aside, this movie makes you want to dance. 4 ½ cans.
60. Trading Places (1983) – Billy Ray Valentine, Capricorn (Eddie Murphy), is a hustler on the streets of Philadelphia. Louis Winthorp (Dan Ackroyd) is strictly upper-crust, running the Duke & Duke commodity business, lunching at the Club and enjoying the privileged life in a beautiful townhouse, complete with butler. But then the billionaire Duke brothers (Ralph Bellamy and Don Ameche) make a small wager on whether the underprivileged Valentine can be rehabilitated and trained to do the same job as Winthrop, while Winthorp is framed, jailed and loses everything. In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit I know every line in this movie and consider it among my top five comedies of all time. (In case you are wondering, the others are “Animal House,” “Blazing Saddles,” “The Producers” – Zero Mostel version – and “When Harry Met Sally.”) This movie has Eddie Murphy at his funniest, and there are priceless contributions from hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold (is there any other variety in the movies?) Jamie Lee Curtis, Denholm Elliott and the other principles. Looking good, Valentine. 5 cans.
61. Sister Act (1992) – When lounge singer Deloris Van Cartier (Whoopi Goldberg) witnesses her mobster boyfriend (Harvey Keitel) killing one of his lackeys, she goes to the police. The cops stash her in a church in San Francisco, where the bad girl has to be considerably holier while she waits to testify at the trial. With a strict Mother Superior (Maggie Smith) and a bunch of enthusiastic and slightly out-of-tune (in every way) nuns around her, the erstwhile “Sister Mary Clarence” must blend in. Instead, she becomes the leader of the pack, taking over the church choir and turning the nuns into performers, until her antics attract so much notoriety that the bad guys spot her once again. This is a fun movie, one of Whoopi’s best, and she is surrounded by the adorable Kathy Najimy and Mary Wickes as her new “sisters.” Holy moly! 4 cans.
62. Bridesmaids* (2011) – Gross-out humor in women’s movies achieves equal opportunity status in this clever comedy written by and starring Kristen Wiig. Wiig plays Annie, a down-on-her-luck woman who has lost her bakery business, drives a beat-up car with no taillights and has no prospects for improving her life. When her BFF Lillian (Maya Rudolph), gets engaged, Annie takes on the role as maid of honor until she gets one-upped by Lil’s new friend Helen (Rose Byrne), a compulsive, over-the-top planner who hijacks the engagement party and plans for the shower and bachelorette gig right out from under Annie’s nose. Unlike male comedies of this ilk (see “The Hangover” or its cleverly titled sequel, “The Hangover Part 2”), the people in this movie are portrayed as real women, with problem kids, inattentive or too attentive husbands, with too much money or not enough, and with layers of complexity you won’t find in the typical buddy movie. There are plenty of raunchy moments here, but the sheer hilarity of the women more than makes up for the bathroom humor. Melissa McCarthy nearly steals the show, and Jon Hamm makes the most of his part as Annie’s sleezy sex partner. 4 cans and a lot of laughs, despite lapses of decorum.
63. Crossing Delancey (1988) – Peter Reigert (Boone in “Animal House”) plays Sam, a pickle man on the Lower East Side. Isabel (Amy Irving) is a 30-something Jewish woman working for a bookstore and looking for love, but not from a man who keeps his hand in a pickle barrel all day. Despite the best efforts of her loveable Bubbie and the ministrations of the local matchmaker (played with gusto by Sylvia Miles), Izzy keeps looking for love in all the wrong places. Reigert is a nice Jewish guy – almost too nice for Izzy – but will he tolerate her protestations and win her over? All I know is that this movie makes me hunger for a good deli sandwich with a pickle on the side. Amy Irving’s hair is so big in this movie it should get separate billing. 4 cans and a pickle, please.
64. An Affair to Remember (1957) – A handsome man (Cary Grant) meets a beautiful woman (Deborah Kerr) on a romantic transatlantic voyage and, despite their attachment to others, they are instantly smitten. This is the quintessential chick-flick, one of my top two in that category (the other being “The Way We Were”). If you don’t believe it, watch “Sleepless in Seattle” for validation of its status. Grant is dashing, Kerr is lovely and spunky, and Cathleen Nesbitt charms her way into everyone’s heart. This is a movie to love, to cherish and to remember. 5 cans.
65. Becoming Chaz* (2011) – And now for something completely different…This documentary records a year in the life of Chaz Bono as he goes through surgery to transition from Chastity to becoming a man. This detailed – if somewhat uncomfortable – account of the process relates the affect the surgery has on Chaz, his partner, Jenny, his family, and, most important, him. That adorable little blonde girl we all remember as the daughter of Sonny and Cher has grown up to become a man, and his story is one of frustration, isolation and courage. 3½ cans.
66. My Brilliant Career* (1979) – No, this is not a look back on my days at J&J, and it isn’t an ode to Oprah, whose finale aired today. This Australian film stars Judy Davis as a headstrong, willful young woman in the late 1800s who dreams of being a writer. Sybela doesn’t fit in anywhere, not on the farm where she lives with her poor family or on the country estate of her wealthy grandmother, where she is sent to live. Though handsome Harry (Sam Neill) pursues her, she cannot be tamed, and marrying anyone seems out of the question until she finds herself. She appears to be a more modern woman living in the wrong century. Judy Davis, with the driest lips I have ever seen, does a credible job portraying a rebellious young woman who is determined to find her own way in life. A bit slow to unfold, “Career” hints of the changing role of women and the need to follow your instincts. Or was that actually Oprah on her finale? 3½ cans.
67. Suspect (1987) – I remember liking this movie much more when I saw it in the movie theater, but maybe it was just my first exposure to Liam Leeson and the fact that I like Cher and Dennis Quaid. Cher is a public defender roped into defending the homeless Leeson, a deaf mute, against a murder charge in Washington, DC. Quaid is a slick lobbyist who serves as a juror on the case. The outlandish part of the story is that Quaid begins to act like a detective to assist Cher in her defense. Do I smell a mistrial? Did Neeson do it? Will Cher be disbarred for jury tampering? All of these factors stretch the bounds of credibility, turning what tries to be a suspenseful movie into a concocted tale. Guilty as charged. 3 cans.
68. Objectified* (2009) – I once had a stand for an outdoor umbrella that was so poorly designed I knew it was a just matter of time before it broke. Why couldn’t the designers recognize this shortcoming, and why did I buy it without realizing the design flaws? I thought about that object as I watched this documentary about the design of things we use every day – everything from chairs to potato peelers. This movie is a fascinating study of these objects and how their designers work with multiple iterations to improve design and manufacturing. The designers interviewed here point out that good design is often a matter of “less is more” – an unobtrusive design should not get in the way of the function and purpose of the object. Design can improve the way we perform tasks and, ultimately, can improve life. Try sitting in an uncomfortable chair and you’ll immediately get the concept. Design is not only the “cool” factor of an iPhone, it affects the interaction between you and the object, marrying form to function seamlessly when it works. This movie was made by the team that produced “Helvetica,” an entire movie about a typeface, that I watched last year. This one isn’t for everyone, but I genuinely enjoyed it. 4 cans.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Fun Times
A bunch of my retired J&J friends gathered to watch the Royal Wedding last month. Wearing appropriately outlandish, custom-made hats, we drank champagne, ate scones and toasted Prince William and his lovely bride, Princess Catherine. We laughed over the ridiculous hats (ours and those of the attendees), replayed the kiss, and reminisced about times in the past we had spent together having fun. At work.
This got me thinking: Does anyone actually have fun at work anymore?
We were (with the exception of one person) all part of a single department, and we called ourselves the “Foster Children” at J&J – hired, trained and sometimes brow-beaten by Larry Foster, VP of Corporate Communications and head taskmaster. But as overworked and underpaid as we might have felt, we learned some valuable lessons in our tenure together. First, “Mr. Foster” – that’s what we called him, just like Mary always called Lou “Mr. Grant” – hired us because we were good at what we did. And second, he trusted us to do what we did to the highest possible standards. No one ever had to tell us to improve our performance, though he could clearly have improved our raises. And while we worked hard and earned his respect and that of his successors, we also learned one other important thing: We learned how to have fun at work.
Many years have passed and yet today any one of the women I worked with will tell you about a bus ride into New York for some event when I consumed more than my share of a bottle of champagne. I’m sketchy on the details myself, but everyone there that night can recall that we had a lot of laughs on that trip to the city.
Back in those days, everyone knew the names of everyone else’s family members. We beamed at their kids’ graduations and agonized over girlfriends. We danced at their weddings and were thrilled when their kids had their babies. We knew one another, and we were friends.
At lunchtime we would sit at a large table in the cafeteria and have long and deep discussions on such topics as the color of everyone’s Macy’s charge card. I would regale them with tales of my parents’ trips to the Catskills, and how they would grab “falata cakes” – extra pastries to have as snacks between meals – you know, “for later.” When we worked late, as we often did, we would sometimes call my mother and put her on the speakerphone, where her deep, Maude-like voice and pithy advice would make everyone chuckle.
In the evening, at least a few of us would take that long walk to the parking deck together – ostensibly for security purposes – and then linger by our cars to talk some more.
There were the days when, quite by accident, nearly everyone (and we are talking here about an all-female group) would show up wearing the same color dress – because, yes, we only wore dresses or suits then, never pants – so we would plan special wardrobe days. The next designated day the entire department of women – more than a dozen of us – would all appear in floral print dresses or something in blue. Once we all decided to wear basic black and pearls, and people came up to us all day sheepishly asking, “Did someone die?”
Preparations for the Annual Shareholders Meeting or traveling to Worldwide Management Conferences required even longer hours than were customary, with months of preparation and enough time to grouse over “facebooks” showing pictures of attendees (some of which apparently hadn’t been updated since the participants were in high school) or “wallybooks,” which were special books needed for a guy named Wally. We bonded against our chosen enemies – anyone who heaped extra work upon the group but expressed little appreciation for the effort – but we never let anyone feel like the burden was theirs alone. There were always people who would volunteer to help, to proofread speeches and press releases, to check lists or do whatever it took to make sure the project was done to absolute perfection. This was one crack team, believe me, and if they ran the U.S. government, we’d be in much better shape today as a country.
These people were my friends, and while we worked hard, we laughed hard, too. There was the time my assistant stood up from her chair and her skirt literally fell off, causing me to laugh out loud for the next 20 minutes. We cared about each other. When you were sick, someone had the “magic crackers” to help settle your stomach. We made sure we had our fun, no matter what else was going on. And we stayed together as a unit for many years.
Eventually, and happily, we began to retire, one by one. We swore we would see each other, but we let time and all our new activities that we never had time to do while working get in the way. So getting together doesn’t happen often enough, but when it does it is special, just like those times when we saw each other every day. The conversations pick up where they left off, and the laughs flow easily.
In a world of work that is truly 24/7, with more demands and fewer resources, with people vying to get ahead and changing jobs much more frequently than people did in “my generation” I have to wonder: Does anyone have any fun anymore? Though I am skeptical, I hope the answer is yes, though I am convinced that no one could have more fun than we did.
When I retired, people asked me if I would miss work. No, I said, emphatically. I’ll just miss the people. But I don’t really have to miss them, because I still get to see them, and I have a lifetime of laughter to conjure up and so many memories of times spent together. What fun we had! I just hope this generation can someday say the same.
This got me thinking: Does anyone actually have fun at work anymore?
We were (with the exception of one person) all part of a single department, and we called ourselves the “Foster Children” at J&J – hired, trained and sometimes brow-beaten by Larry Foster, VP of Corporate Communications and head taskmaster. But as overworked and underpaid as we might have felt, we learned some valuable lessons in our tenure together. First, “Mr. Foster” – that’s what we called him, just like Mary always called Lou “Mr. Grant” – hired us because we were good at what we did. And second, he trusted us to do what we did to the highest possible standards. No one ever had to tell us to improve our performance, though he could clearly have improved our raises. And while we worked hard and earned his respect and that of his successors, we also learned one other important thing: We learned how to have fun at work.
Many years have passed and yet today any one of the women I worked with will tell you about a bus ride into New York for some event when I consumed more than my share of a bottle of champagne. I’m sketchy on the details myself, but everyone there that night can recall that we had a lot of laughs on that trip to the city.
Back in those days, everyone knew the names of everyone else’s family members. We beamed at their kids’ graduations and agonized over girlfriends. We danced at their weddings and were thrilled when their kids had their babies. We knew one another, and we were friends.
At lunchtime we would sit at a large table in the cafeteria and have long and deep discussions on such topics as the color of everyone’s Macy’s charge card. I would regale them with tales of my parents’ trips to the Catskills, and how they would grab “falata cakes” – extra pastries to have as snacks between meals – you know, “for later.” When we worked late, as we often did, we would sometimes call my mother and put her on the speakerphone, where her deep, Maude-like voice and pithy advice would make everyone chuckle.
In the evening, at least a few of us would take that long walk to the parking deck together – ostensibly for security purposes – and then linger by our cars to talk some more.
There were the days when, quite by accident, nearly everyone (and we are talking here about an all-female group) would show up wearing the same color dress – because, yes, we only wore dresses or suits then, never pants – so we would plan special wardrobe days. The next designated day the entire department of women – more than a dozen of us – would all appear in floral print dresses or something in blue. Once we all decided to wear basic black and pearls, and people came up to us all day sheepishly asking, “Did someone die?”
Preparations for the Annual Shareholders Meeting or traveling to Worldwide Management Conferences required even longer hours than were customary, with months of preparation and enough time to grouse over “facebooks” showing pictures of attendees (some of which apparently hadn’t been updated since the participants were in high school) or “wallybooks,” which were special books needed for a guy named Wally. We bonded against our chosen enemies – anyone who heaped extra work upon the group but expressed little appreciation for the effort – but we never let anyone feel like the burden was theirs alone. There were always people who would volunteer to help, to proofread speeches and press releases, to check lists or do whatever it took to make sure the project was done to absolute perfection. This was one crack team, believe me, and if they ran the U.S. government, we’d be in much better shape today as a country.
These people were my friends, and while we worked hard, we laughed hard, too. There was the time my assistant stood up from her chair and her skirt literally fell off, causing me to laugh out loud for the next 20 minutes. We cared about each other. When you were sick, someone had the “magic crackers” to help settle your stomach. We made sure we had our fun, no matter what else was going on. And we stayed together as a unit for many years.
Eventually, and happily, we began to retire, one by one. We swore we would see each other, but we let time and all our new activities that we never had time to do while working get in the way. So getting together doesn’t happen often enough, but when it does it is special, just like those times when we saw each other every day. The conversations pick up where they left off, and the laughs flow easily.
In a world of work that is truly 24/7, with more demands and fewer resources, with people vying to get ahead and changing jobs much more frequently than people did in “my generation” I have to wonder: Does anyone have any fun anymore? Though I am skeptical, I hope the answer is yes, though I am convinced that no one could have more fun than we did.
When I retired, people asked me if I would miss work. No, I said, emphatically. I’ll just miss the people. But I don’t really have to miss them, because I still get to see them, and I have a lifetime of laughter to conjure up and so many memories of times spent together. What fun we had! I just hope this generation can someday say the same.
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