Tina's August Movies

As the dog days of summer dwindled, here are the movies I watched during the month of August. You'll note that once again I have topped 100 movies for the year, and we still have 4 months to go. Numbering picks up from last month and movies I had not seen previously are marked with an *.

97. America’s Heart and Soul* (2004) – From the mountains to the prairies, to the oceans, this panoramic view of America represents the ultimate reality show. We see a real cowboy, an aeronautical acrobat, a man who fights oil rig fires, a farmer, people literally dancing on mountains, and so many more people committed to their calling, whatever that might be. The sweeping vistas of this documentary show America the beautiful, with breathtaking views from sea to shining sea. I wish I’d seen this movie in a theater to really enjoy the richness of color and tone that is magnificent throughout the film. 4 cans.

98. Inform and Delight: The Work of Milton Glaser* (2008) – You may not know the name Milton Glaser, but chances are you know his work. The graphic designer behind the ubiquitous “I ♥ NY” campaign is an artist, an illustrator and an intellectual whose work represents the visual depiction of ideas. A founder of New York magazine, Glaser also helped turn New York on to small, local restaurants with his creation of “The Underground Gourmet.” He designed an iconic poster of Bob Dylan that instantly calls the 1960s to mind. He has also designed restaurants – from concept and space to menu graphics – food products at Grand Union, logos for schools and art museums, posters, books and campaigns for social causes. The documentary, which I watched on the Sundance Channel, is an excellent reminder of the impact good design has on everyday living, making ordinary objects identifiable and easier to understand. Glaser is a gem, and so is this movie. 4 cans.

99. Tadpole* (2002) – Prep school student Oscar Grubman (Aaron Stanford) has a problem. Home for Thanksgiving, he will have to spend time with his annoying father (John Ritter) and the woman on whom he has a mad, crazy crush that he is sure is love – his stepmother, Eve (Signorney Weaver). Just to complicate matters further, the 15-year old gets seduced by Eve’s 40ish best friend, Diane (Bebe Neuwirth). Oscar is a smart kid who speaks French, reads and quotes from Voltaire but, understandably at 15, knows nothing about love. This film pays considerable homage to films ranging from “The Graduate” (and even includes a Simon & Garfunkel song) to “Ordinary People” to “The Summer of 42.” In many ways, awkwardness prevails here, mitigated only by the earnestness and charm of young Oscar and his sweet portrayal by Stanford in the role. 3½ cans.

100. Crazy Stupid Love* (2011) – Love has moved from being a many-splendored thing to just being crazy and stupid in this entertaining comedy. Schlubby Cal Weaver (Steve Carrell) is shocked and angry when his wife Emily (Julianne Moore) suddenly tells him she wants a divorce after 25 years of wedded boredom. He drags his mopey self a bar, where his lack of appropriate attire and total lack of game fail to attract women but pique the interest of slick local lothario Jacob (Ryan Gosling), who decides he can remake Cal. It turns out something like “Extreme Makeover, Man Edition,” as Jacob convinces Cal he is “better than The GAP.” The problem is that Cal isn’t really destined to be a player, and he is still in love with Emily, who seems to want him back. Meanwhile, his 13-year-old son is in love with the 17-year old babysitter, who, in turn, is in love with Cal. There are some unforeseen twists and turns here that work out well. Do we each have one true soul mate? And can we pledge never to give up when fighting for that one true love? Stay tuned. This movie is a fun ride, if a little long and meandering in parts, and features great work by an outstanding cast. Ryan Gosling is downright yummy. 4½ cans. This movie marks my 3^rd consecutive year of seeing at least 100 films.

101. The Yellow Rolls Royce (1964) – Rex Harrison and Shirley MacLaine fare best in this trilogy of tales connected by – you guessed it – a yellow Rolls Royce. Harrison plays a wealthy British diplomat who buys the Rolls as a belated anniversary gift for his disinterested wife (Jeanne Moreau). MacLaine is the floozy girlfriend of an American mobster (George C. Scott) who is “touring” Italy between mob hits. The third tale, with Ingrid Bergman and Omar Sharif, is the least believable. Nonetheless, this movie has great views of Europe, lush cinematography and a good deal of charm. And the backseat of that Rolls gets plenty of action. 3½ cans.

102. The Help* (2011) – This very satisfying movie adaptation of the Kathryn Stockett novel depicts life in Jackson, Mississippi, in 1962, when the rich white ladies had nothing more to do than go to Junior League meetings, plan charity benefits and play bridge. Meanwhile, their black maids did the cooking, shopping and cleaning and raised and loved their white babies. Skeeter Phelan (Emma Stone), an aspiring writer, doesn’t fit in with her society friends, and she decides to tell the story of Southern society from the viewpoint of the “help.” This is a rich picture of the pre-Civil Rights South, when paying maids less than minimum wage was considered perfectly acceptable, as was passing them down from mother to daughter and firing them at any time for a real or perceived transgression. Skeeter forms friendships of a sort with several of the help (Viola Davis in what will be at least an Oscar-nominated performance as Aibileen and Octavia Spencer as sassy Minny) as she convinces them to tell their stories – and there are plenty of juicy stories to tell. This is a faithful adaptation of the book but reading it is not a prerequisite to thoroughly enjoying the movie. The focus on human dignity, friendship, trust and a taste of revenge makes it all worthwhile. There are broad brushes of stereotypes in the characters, but that fault doesn’t diminish the impact of the movie. This movie is important, it is special and it is not to be missed. Best movie I have seen so far this year. 5 cans.

103. Sunrise at Campobello (1960) – Ralph Bellamy does a credible job playing Franklin Delano Roosevelt from the time he contracted infantile paralysis (polio) in 1921 until his return to a national stage at the 1924 Democratic National Convention. The paralyzed politician is determined – with the encouragement of his chief advisor, Louie Howe (Hume Cronyn) – to return to the spotlight in hopes of seeking the presidency one day. FDR, as we now know, was rarely photographed in a wheelchair, and, with the help of heavy metal braces and physical support by his son, appeared to walk. In this movie, he is wheelchair bound, honing his upper body strength and remaining determinedly chipper. Greer Garson is much too pretty to accurately depict wife Eleanor, even with false teeth. Eleanor must learn to cope with her husband’s condition and must take on speaking engagements in lieu of her husband to keep his name in the public. The movie is well-done, but it leaves out so much of what we now know about FDR, his wife and his condition. However, grading it on a scale of “it is what it is,” I’ll give it 3½ cans. Besides, when do I ever get to see “Spin & Marty’s” Tim Considine (who plays son James Roosevelt) in anything other than a Disney movie?

104. Flipped* (2010) – If you liked the movie “Stand By Me,” or if you are a fan of the TV series “The Wonder Years,” chances are you’ll flip for director Rob Reiner’s sweet romantic movie. Bryce Losky (Callan McAuliff) and his family move to the suburban neighborhood where friendly Juli Baker (Madelyn Carroll) lives. One look at Bryce’s eyes and little Juli falls hard for the second-grader, and for the next six years, as she pursues and annoys him, he avoids and ignores her. But at the end of junior high, the tables turn, and suddenly it is Bryce whose crush becomes unrequited love. This is a gentle stroll down memory lane, when life was uncomplicated – unless you were a kid in love. Reiner shows his knack for getting the best out of child actors, and, in the end, it’s hard not to have a crush on the whole movie. 4 cans.

105. One on One (1977) – As a big basketball fan, I have a certain fondness for this story about a freshman basketball player recruited from a hick town to play for fictional Western University, a powerhouse basketball team. Robby Benson plays Henry Steele, a kid whose ball-handling skills and ability to score are highly prized as a recruit, but whose innocence and desire to please hinder his role on a team run by an authoritarian coach (G.D. Spradlin, who is as much of an SOB here as he was in Godfather II). Henry comes in as a star, but his style doesn’t fit the coach’s system, and he works his way down the coach’s bench. But his love for the game and willingness to take whatever is dished out – along with a budding relationship with his tutor (Annette O’Toole) – help his resolve to remain in school when the coach demands he give up his scholarship. This movie shows the unsavory aspects of college athletics (no-show jobs, cash from boosters) but is grounded by a winning performance from Benson – who actually can play. 3½ cans.

106. The Kids Are Alright (2010) – Since I reviewed this movie last year and gave it 4 ½ cans, I won’t repeat the review except to say that I still enjoyed it. One thing I noticed, at the end, was that when the parents of the daughter drove her to college, it only required one trip from the car by each of them and their son to unload the car. I didn’t know how unrealistic that was at the time, but, having seen my nephew Brandon’s carload of crap headed to the University of Maryland, I can say that this scene was pure fantasy.

107. The Clearing* (2004) – You mean there is actually a Robert Redford movie that I knew nothing about? Yes, this suspenseful drama stars Redford as Wayne, a wealthy businessman living a comfortable life with his lovely wife Eileen (Helen Mirren), until one day when he is abducted by a disgruntled former employee he barely knows (Willem Dafoe, excellent as a semi-deranged loser). When Wayne doesn’t show up for dinner, Eileen knows something is amiss. As she and the authorities wait for contact by the kidnapper(s), she learns more about her husband than she ever wanted to know. Meanwhile, Wayne has only his wits to help him escape as the kidnapper leads him through the woods to a clearing. This is a taut drama that incorporates the mundane parts of police work needed to identify potential bad guys while the family impatiently waits. Good performances and Redford and Mirren alone make the movie worth seeing. 3½ cans.

108. The Last Dance* (2000) – This is one of those cheesy Hallmark dramas that you don’t want to like, isn’t high art but you watch all the way through anyway. The ever-lovely Maureen O’Hara plays Helen Parker, an aging former Latin teacher, widowed at an early age and long retired. When she develops heart trouble, she lands in the hospital and is tended to by nurse Todd (Eric Stolz), a former student. Turns out Mrs. P still has a few lessons to teach Todd and his family about life and love and building memories. I hate that this stuff always gives me a lump in my throat, but Ita Sit (“so be it” in Latin). 3 cans.

109. The Sweet Smell of Success* (1957) – The Sweet Smell of Success didn’t quite stink, but it didn’t quite succeed for me, either. A quintessential 50s movie, this black and white film features Tony Curtis as Sidney Falco, a New York press agent, desperately currying favor with all-powerful columnist J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster). The mention of a client’s name in J.J.’s column can make or break the press agent, who bows to every whim of the smug writer. The plot seemed less important as a story than as a device to showcase the ruthlessness of the main characters, with the tale neatly set in the after-hours nightclubs and joints of New York City. I am not a Burt Lancaster fan, but Tony Curtis brings a handsome face and a skittish sense of desperation to his role. 3 cans.

110. Divorce, American Style* (1964) – Marriage may be complicated, but it’s nothing compared to divorce in this black comedy starring Dick Van Dyke and Debbie Reynolds as a bickering couple who uncouple. Van Dyke goes from a successful businessman in a nice house to living on less that $100 a week. Their separation and divorce is filled with rancor and not enough regret. Jason Robards plays a divorced man who befriends Van Dyke, recruiting him to date his own ex-wife and relieve his alimony burden. The only scene I thought was genuinely funny was when divorced dad Tom Bosley explains to Debbie Reynolds the plethora of kids belonging to him, his ex-wife, her first husband, her next husband, his second ex-wife, etc. Even the kids can’t keep track of all their siblings. I didn’t want to keep track of the characters in this movie, since only Van Johnson, playing a local used car salesman, seemed like a good guy. 2½ cans.

Almost Gone

“I don’t remember growing older; when did they?” (“Fiddler on the Roof”)

Well, of course I don’t remember growing older. I’m old now, and I can’t remember much.

But I do remember the past 18 years with my nephew, Brandon.

He is about to start a new life as a freshman at the University of Maryland. Brandon is excited and ready – we hope – to leave home. I’ll let his parents worry about the practical things: Will he like his roommate? Does he have enough contact lens solution? Will he ever do laundry?

Instead, I’ll wax poetic about my own worries for him and look back at our time together. Does he have enough empathy for people? What kind of place will the world be when he is ready to enter it as an adult? Did I spend enough quality aunt-time with him?

Will he text me from college once in a while?

I have to admit that being an aunt is easy. When Brandon would get cranky or involved in video games to the point that a bomb could explode in the room and he wouldn’t notice, I’d leave and go home. It’s not like being a parent, where you have to stick around, even on the worst days, and where you worry about them every minute, even as you worry about your role as a parent.

No, as an aunt, it is all about fun. I think of the first time I took him to the Jersey shore. His mother sent every piece of aqua equipment imaginable, from goggles to shoes to those swimmies kids wear on their arms, a Styrofoam bubble and enough sunscreen to live for years in the desert. When we first entered the ocean and he felt the waves, he clung tightly to me and implored, “Stop the waves, T, stop the waves.” I tried to explain that although I might appear to be all powerful as his aunt, it was actually beyond my realm to stop the waves.

We liked to play catch in the backyard when he was little, and, as he grew, I’d throw the ball as high as I could. One day I was hitting balls to him when his friend came over to play. “You better back up,” he warned. “My aunt can really hit.” Few compliments have meant more to me than that expression of admiration.

We went to movies together that he enjoyed (while I enjoyed a nap) and a few we enjoyed equally. When I couldn’t stop crying during “My Dog Skip,” he patted me to comfort me and later told my sister that the movie was “heartbreaking.” An astute movie review from a seven-year-old, I thought.

Years ago, when I had him laughing hysterically about some silly thing, Brandon told me that I was the funniest person he knew. “Do you know a lot of funny people?” I inquired. “Yes, I do,” he asserted. I think he was six at the time.

And then there was the infamous Sno-Cap “incident” (which must always be referenced with “air quotes;” even as a child, Brandon was big on “air” quotes). I wasn’t actually present for the Sno-Cap “incident,” but I experienced the fallout. Brandon was at the movies with the other movie fanatic in the family, his father, when he shoved a few too many (probably something like 60) Sno-Caps in his mouth and thought he was choking. His father took him to the bathroom, got him water and took him home, concerned that he was still choking. On the way home, they stopped at the police station, where they called the Rescue Squad (manned, ironically, by the person from the movies who sold him the Sno-Caps), who examined him and assured them both that he was fine. For years afterwards, Brandon refused to eat at the movies for fear of choking. (I guess the idea of only eating 4-5 Sno-Caps at one time held little or no appeal.) But he was so spooked for so long, that we would be at a movie or a Rutgers basketball game and he’d turn to me to ask, “Am I still breathing?” I told him that if he could ask that question, he was, in fact, able to breathe. He’s gotten over the fear of eating bad food at public events and understands now that he is breathing all of the time, but none of us will ever forget the Sno-Cap “incident.”

I remember the first basketball game we went to together. He was fascinated less by the play on the court than by the numbers changing on the scoreboard. A few years later he knew enough to remark instead on the use of a zone defense vs. man-to-man. You can only imagine how that thrilled me as a basketball fanatic.

Over time, as he got more involved in his own activities, my role was simply to tag along to watch. I have seen many boring T-ball games, more than a few soccer games in the blistering heat or the freezing cold, and I witnessed his one brief moment in an off-off-Broadway, middle school production of “West Side Story,” where he played a Jet – or was he a Shark? All I remember is that he was in the “rumble” scene, brandishing a paper towel roll as his weapon.

Every now and then I was called on to consult on a school project, but much less often than I anticipated. When he did his college essays, I was ready, willing and able to assist, but I found his essay so well-written that I could barely suggest a thing to change. Not that I was surprised. As his English-major aunt, I would expect him to have at least a modicum of writing ability. Luckily, he never needed my help in math. It is more likely that I would need his.

It is harder and harder these days to spend time together or even to communicate with Brandon – except by text. After all, this is the kid who once texted his mother from the bathroom because he needed a new roll of toilet paper (yes, this is a true story). Now he is out of school and spends time with his friends (who, much to my pleasure, call me “Aunt T”), works part-time and devotes countless hours doing what all boys his age do – playing video games, downloading music and staring at small screens while tapping on their keyboards. When we head out for an infrequent lunch together, he likes to play songs for me from his iPod that he has picked out because he thinks I’ll like them. While I don’t think we have any of the same songs on our respective iPods, I have to admit that the kid has a good ear for what I might enjoy.

I guess that the infrequent times spent together in these latter years will help me adjust to his absence, being away at college, busy with his friends, his studies and God-knows what else. It is his parents’ job to counsel him, and I am sure they have done it well. The advice from his aunt is somewhat different. Before he went to Cancun with his friends as his graduation gift from Mom and Dad, I advised him that if he got so drunk that he felt like he was going to throw up he should stick his finger down his throat and do it. You don’t get that kind of wisdom from parents or just any elder, you know, and I was young once, too.

Brandon is starting the best time of his life, with so many years and so much promise ahead. I can’t help wondering what life has in store for him, and if he is ready to tackle it all head on. I can’t help wondering if he knows everything he should know. I can’t help wondering if I will be able to dance at his wedding.

I can’t help wondering if I can learn to Skype so I can “see” him once in a while. He promised to Skype me (a noun used as a verb – horrors) on my birthday in October, so I have until then to get up to speed.

But mostly I can’t help wondering where the time has gone, even as I am thankful for every minute we spent together.

I just know it is time for him to go. Good luck, Brandon. Do great things, have fun and, once in a while, think about the times we spent together. I know I will.