Chloe: Critic Girl/Renaissance Woman

This is the first movie in a long time (since Swimming Pool, actually) that I couldn’t have a reaction to immediately. Instead, I wanted to do research and read more about the film and actually engage in some discussions with others. As it turns out, I don’t have a usual place to go for such things and so I went straight to IMDB - the usual go to place for all things questionable in film. In all of the threads there, I only found one remotely interesting discussion and everyone else was just concerned with the nudity and sex scenes. There is so much more to this movie.

I don’t know that much about the turmoil in France in 1968, or anything about the cinema of the day, but that is the back drop for this movie. Based on the novel, The Holy Innocents, it’s not as much about the actual politics of that time, but the raw emotion that everyone was experiencing. And the politics do serve as the framework for conflict and discourse amongst the students.

There are so many things that I would like to talk about with regards to this movie - Bertolucci presents a number of diametrically opposed elements that are still so tightly entwined with each other…it is nearly impossible to sort through. Overwhelmingly, innocence and love are the strongest themes, juxtaposed against a darker deeper sense of knowledge and selfishness.

…

It’s now been quite some time since I saw this film, and I haven’t come to any more conclusions. I am going to have to watch this again and process, and potentially try to read the book. I think, though, the visual adventure is what has haunted me and so I’m looking forward to further clarifications through viewings. I am sure that this will not be my last post and I certainly haven’t stopped looking for good conversation about The Dreamers.

I immediately moved this movie up on my list based on a blog post that I read with news that Paris Hilton had been cast in the remake to play Miss Honeychurch. A wave of fear ran over me and I pushed this up to the top of my queue over on Netflix. I waited the two days or so it took until the movie came, and then about halfway through watching, I realized that said post was on April 1st. Yes, I had fallen so hard for this April Fool’s joke that I managed to see the movie before Paris could get her mitts on a classic movie of manners (ironic, I know).

And I go into any film with Helena Bonham Carter in it with a lot of mixed emotions. I’ve loved a lot of her work (notably Fight Club, but others as well), but I do bear a grudge from the whole Kenneth Branagh-Emma Thompson situation. So I had to get over that, as well.

I’m stalling on my reviews lately, humbled in the act of writing, if you will, and while I have notes that I actually took on this movie, I feel I can’t do it proper justice without being more familiar with the book.

And I don’t always like “manners” movies, either. But this was vaguely enjoyable; HBC’s hair was quizzical at best; and DD-L was eerily annoying.

Actually, it might be funny to see Paris Hilton play Miss Honeychurch. We’d have to do something with her hair.

I do find it odd that I didn’t remember reading the book, but slowly little bits and pieces of this film seemed familiar and it struck me. The book was pretty soft chic lit, but American Girls in Paris and so worth the time it took to read.

The film, though, actually surpassed the book, which is rare in my experience. Since we were dealing with a soft text to begin with, the standard was set low, but Kate Hudson and Naomi Watts added a nice dimension to this story and the screenplay was richer for the new writing.

Visually, the film is a love letter to Paris - a gorgeous meal laid out in all it’s glory, sophisticated French women with that certain je ne sais quoi, stunning fashion and much-coveted accessories, and of course, the sophisticated French lover to buy them. I did find myself practicing my accent and yearning for a trip to the Left Bank.

But, this story doesn’t center around Roxanne - the American girl married to a French man, but rather Isabel, the American sister of the American girl, and Isabel’s own discovery of Paris, the French, their ways, and her own ways. I did find myself bristling at the tightness of the “old girl’s club” and glad to be an American girl who smiles too much, loves expensive undergarments and goes based on intuition. There is a fine balance between celebrating the poise and sophistication of French women and the impulsive, warm nature of American girls.

This movie was a great antidote for a rainy cold New York Saturday - a quick trip to Paris and a feel good movie to boot.

Mainly for creating feasts of a similar magnitude…

She opened with a turtle soup and a light aperitif. Not my particular favorite starter, but a nice rich broth-y soup to whet the appetite.

Next, she served Blinis Demidoff with a classic champagne. Yes, please!

I believe the next course was her centerpiece, the Caille en Sarcophage. And the Clos Jouveau (mental note to find that out, for knowledge’s sake - I do know that young Erik calls it Clo Juvo in the subtitles).

She cleansed the palates with a light salad. The quick glances we see seem to have endive and other lettuces and possible walnuts on top.

Then the cheeses and some water to clear out the tastes.

She finishes with a lovely cake Baba au Rhum dressed with cream, liqueur and fruit as well as a large and significant fruit tray.

Finally, coffee and a port (?) to finish.

Debra Ollivier has assembled some recipes for a couple of the dishes which I will add below:

Blinis Demidoff

Olllivier takes her recipe from Chicago’s Theater Oobleck (included in Entre Nous, see link above). In the movie, Babette definitely tops her blinis with caviar, creme fraiche and chopped onion. Blini at your own risk.

Baba au Rhum

1 package yeast
1/3 cup warm milk
2 1/3 cups sifted flour
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
2 2/3 cups sugar
6 eggs
5 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup dark rum
candied fruits or thinly sliced almonds for decoration

Dissolve yeast in milk in a large bowl. Stir in 1/2 cup of the flour, cover, and set aside in a warm place to rise for 30 minutes.
Beat 7 tablespoons of the butter in a food processor (or equivalent, as I do believe Babette did not have a Cusinart in Denmark). Add two tablespoons of the sugar and 2 tablespoons of the flour. Then beat in the eggs one at a time.

Beat remaining flour into the risen yeast mixture; then beat in the butter and egg mixture to form a thick , doughy batter. Butter a large baba or Savrin mold (modern day: Bundt pan) with a tablespoon of butter, then spoon batter into the mold. Cover with a clean cloth and set aside to rise until dough reaches the top of the mold.

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Bake baba for 40 minutes until golden brown on top.

Meanwhile, combine remaining sugar and water in a saucepan and boil until syrupy and reduce to about 3 cups. Remove from heat and stir in rum.

After baba is removed from the oven, spoon warm rum syrup over it entirely, allowing it to saturate the cake completely.

Let cake cool and then unmold and decorate with fruits or nuts.

Serves about 8.

…..Now if only I had a Bundt pan!

Long had I held in my impressions that this movie was gastroporn, and that it was French! I suppose I had no real reason to believe these things other than the title and a recommendation from Entre Nous.

As I should have from my previous misconceptions, I believe I have now learned to keep an open mind and simply believe.

While the food that Babette creates is wondrous in itself, it is the power of touching people’s lives with what you do best that resonates throughout this film. Set in a small religious community in Denmark, Babette truly creates a life-changing, or at least enlightening, event with her culinary expertise. It took it’s time to get there, like any classic gastronomic phenomenon, and the creation was too much of a blur to be the miracle in itself. I was desperate to enjoy that meal and savor every taste with the unknowing recipients.

There also is a fair amount of religious symbolism that I am sure can be explored further and I would like to take the time to address after I’ve had the opportunity to watch this film several more times. The first that jumps out at me is the 12 diners at the table, breaking bread together. The diners themselves refer to the wedding at Cana, though the miracle here is not in riches made out of mere paucity. More significantly, the sisters - the right and left hand of their father, the prophet-priest - have arranged this dinner to celebrate their father, on the anniversary of his birth. Is he the Jesus figure to complete the Last Supper? Is the General, who guides the reluctant participants through the wonders, instead? Or is the sacrifice made by the woman in the kitchen, behind the scenes, who may have been able to be the twelfth at the table had not the General come to call?

The true miracle, though, is in the kinship and reconciliation that is brought out through good food, fantastic wine, and a well planned menu. May Babette forgive me for eating an improvised version of Don Henley’s chili over leftover grains when I could have been eating Caille en Sarcophage!

I do believe that my culinary adventure, though, in creating a warm late-winter stew on one of the last nights of the winter season might indeed be considered my art, as in Babette’s words, I simply strove to “do my best.”

see also: thoughts on the actual menu for Babette’s feast

I seem to have made myself the self-appointed evaluator of pseudo-Cinderella films in today’s media. I hope that some uninspired ingenue in film school will do the same.

A Cinderella Story - just typing out the name made me space out and think of much better versions (for the younger set - Ella Enchanted, for the “literary” film set - Ever After). But it does make me wonder why society has such a fascination with the tale of the little cinder girl. We have an easy answer - uninspired (the theme’s post, it would seem) writers take stories that worked and try to “update” them or re-tell them or make yet another buck on them. Every little girl grows up and wants to be in the Cinderella movie, so there is no shortage of starry eyed starlets to play the role.

There is also, of course, the stock re-telling of traditional fairy tales to empower girls and young women and eliminate the childhood myth that all a young girl needs is a prince on a white horse. And, in fairness, A Cinderella Story does attempt to do that. Young Sam’s father tells her that it’s not all about princes and there is more in that book that might help her than just being saved (how best to sweep floors in his diner?). We see Sam decide to stand up for herself (Warning: spoilers from here on in, disappointing, I know) and stand up to her evil stepmother (the ever-hysterical and usually under-used Jennifer Coolidge) and her wishy-washy text-message lover. So the requisite grrrl power elements are there.

The real change, though, happens in the wishy-washy text-message lover. When Sam stands up for herself, the underlying reason is that she thinks she got rejected from Princeton. She, herself, states earlier in the movie that she only follows orders because she needs tuition money from Fiona, the stepmother. So now that she’s not going to college (always apply to safeties, Sam!), she actually has nothing to lose and hasn’t taken any real chances. Her “family” at the diner has already let her know that they will support her so she has fallen into a safety net.

Austin, though, walks out of the homecoming game (oddly several days after the homecoming dance) during the final play of the game, handing off the glory to his lesser noticed sidekick to choose Sam, Princeton, and pissing off his dad. He chooses to be the “closet poet” writer inside instead of the hot jock full-riding to USC and Car Wash fame. Austin is the true cinderella coming out of the foofy-career-choice-closet (according to Big Andy, A’s pa) and wearing the glass slipper in full view.

But really, it looks like he just goes to kiss Sam in the rain.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind allows for some interesting questions. Are there really people out there that we can’t avoid regardless of the enormous lengths we would take to eliminate them from our lives? Will we ever be able to map to specific memories in such a way that we can delete them like so many files in a leftover laptop?

But most importantly, who would you erase? I suppose movies like this are meant to inspire existential questions and thoughts - even those “deep” thoughts that seem so cliche once they come out. Case in point: As I was falling asleep last night, I pondered this last question and I realized that there might not be any one relationship that I would actually want to erase - each has made me who I am today. So there, I said it.

And the movie makes a fairly good case against the very industry that it has created. Joel Barish can’t remember anything about the previous two years in his life since everything was colored by Clementine. Immediately after the procedure, he is despondent and depressed and believes that he has just done nothing but stand still for two years. (Not a spoiler, this is in the first ten minutes of the film) If we do indeed develop the ability to erase people we love so intensely as to wanting to erase them, then we will erase all emotions we feel during that time.

This procedure, though, may have some benefits - erasing so many drunken encounters, failed pick-up attempts, but more seriously - traumatic events. The first “who” I really thought of erasing was a terribly traumatic personal relationship that would only require erasing one day and some memories of the aftermath. I would be healed! But then, even the positive outpouring which came from that would be erased and so many good feelings that came from the bad would be lost forever.

In the end, erasing may not be such an exciting prospect after all….

I’ve completely confirmed that Anne Hathaway has one character that she plays. And, yes, she may be worthy of being called a “young Lucille Balle” as the esteemed Jane Starks (I spelled that wrong, but the producer of the afore-referred to Ella Enchanted) deemed her. But, let’s please remember: Lucy was always Lucy. She was very comfortable with physical comedy and natural in her skin, but we always think of the stomping the grapes, the vitamegamin, the chocolate candies and of course Desi with his world-famous “LUCY!”

Now nearly mandatory criticism aside, I think what this film does for the Cinderella story and for the quality of obedience borders on family movie genius. The movie is smart, empowering, funny, cute, and Hugh Dancy is a hunk of G-rated burning love.
Minnie Driver is under used and the relationship as “household fairy” could have been better developed. Additionally, there is some confusion over who the actual fairy godmother is. Vivica, as Lucinda, is referred to as the fairy godmother, but only for having given an undesirable gift.

I actually even thought about buying this movie. And it’s one that I would definitely think about giving middle-school age girls as a ‘go get ‘em’ gift. And, someday, it may make it’s way into my collection.

Why did Mira Sorvino get an Oscar for this movie? I haven’t done my research to see who she was up against, but this was largely lost on me. In general, it was clever and classic Woody Allen. The greek tragedy element was novel and well-woven into the movie. This could not eliminate the bad accent and generally vapid performance of Mira. Helena Bonham Carter was just as uninteresting and her Amanda Sloane was unlikeable at best.

Now, I do appreciate that writers love to write movies in which they get to be the love interest of whoever they damn well please (note: Zach Braff and Garden State), but it is this very flaw which maybe makes Mira and Helena so generally dismal in this film. Would these two women have anything to do with Woody Allen? Even if he is the interminable Upper East Side devoted Lenny? Not hardly. Give us a break, Woody.

And on a final note, I need to do further research to come up with the timing of this movie and the Mia Farrow/Soon Yee episode - but lusting after the mother of his adopted son? Could this be the foreshadowing/artistic presentation of lusting after the adopted daughter of his son’s mother?

Aside from Mandy Moore’s line “I am filled with Christ’s love!” punctuated by a literal throwing of The Good Book at Jena Malone (sweet impregnated Mary Cummings), this movie really isn’t very funny.

Which isn’t to say that it’s not good, or light, or even fun, but touted by a friend as the “Christian Mean Girls,” it doesn’t come close. This is actually a movie with a message and it uses the teen movie genre as vehicle for the “Not everyone fits in all of the time” message and “Christ even loves you if you drive your handicap-mobile into him at full speed and cause his decapitation.” Okay, so that part was a bit funny.

I also liked the special feature with over-laid commentary by Jena Malone and Mandy Moore. The only problem is that their voices are so similar that I couldn’t tell who was who, or worse, who was more annoying. Jena overcompensates her smaller-name-status by recounting every detail about every part of everyone else’s experience and Mandy tries not to sound pouty when she realizes that she isn’t the star of the movie and Jena had a lot more scenes with a lot more people. So…annoying, but at least interesting to hear from the actor’s perspective and not just from the usual director/writer combo.

And props for the obvious but well-played gag:
Dean: I’m the father.
Patrick: I’m the boyfriend.
Dean’s roommate: I’m his boyfriend.

And for the obvious but well-played move by mom, Mary-Louise Parker, to hop in with her contraction-ridden under-age pregnant prom-dress-clad daughter.

Overall, the movie was not complicated. It was not a raucous comedy. It definitely didn’t inspire millions of small children to do anything (except maybe to be gay or a teen mom) and lacked the glamour of other teen movies. That said, it was muted, well done, and interesting. Almost a 1950s simplicity in a 2000s setting with contemporary morals and a very up to date message.