ME: Not enough of my friends appreciate Newsies. JOEL: How many would be enough? ME: 95%.
I weep for today's youth. They will only know Christian Bale as a star. They didn't get to embrace the quirky career before the cape. And when they do discover his earlier gems, they'll view them as before-he-was-famous flicks, not as priceless treasures independent of his recent success.
Best call to strike in a Disney film: "The World Will Know"
Best evidence the director/choreographer was taught by Gene Kelly: "Seize the Day [Reprise]"
"Best" use of Bill Pullman's vocal cords: "King of New York"
My best friend and I used to call cute boys "muckety-mucks." A reference to this song, not the actual definition of the word. Did I ever mention that I was really cool once upon a time?
P.S. This scene is why I didn't buy Bill Pullman as president in Independence Day.
P.P.S. Robert Duvall is also in the movie. He does not sing or dance. Disappointing, really.
Okay, okay, I'll cave. (As in Batcave.) I'll chat about Mr. Bale.
But first, let's get a non-maniacal image in our heads, shall we?
This is the face of someone about to begin major damage control.
I heart Laurie.
Christian Bale swears a lot in a loud voice and everyone looks at me. As if it's shocking that I would spend so much quality time with such a volatile personality. Or as if I might crumble upon hearing the news of his non-warm-and-fuzziness. (This is where your mom explains the difference between being a fan and actually having a relationship with someone.)
My heart is not broken over Christian Bale's rant. I'm not going to suddenly boycott his movies or burn my VHS of Swing Kids (the horror). Honestly, I'm really not shocked by it. At all. News broke of this verbal assault when it happened LAST YEAR (around the same time as his infamous family blowup). And he has long had a bit of a perfectionist-on-the-verge-of-a-tantrum reputation. So much so that they called him Tandy on the set of Metroland. Yes, before he was Batman. Or even the American Psycho.
Yes, folks, I do my research.
ASIDE: It's beat-up-famous-people week. Now people are questioning whether Michael Phelps should compete in 2012. What?! I don't have crazy medical/marijuana knowledge, but I'm pretty sure that it leaves your system after four years. I think it's time America took its chill pills.
Jerry Maguire says we live in a cynical world. I believe him. But I recently realized that I'm also very generous with giving people the benefit of the doubt. And that my cynicism is often just me taking the easy way out. If I'm hurt, it's so easy to write someone off as a jerk, even though he/she had no cruel intentions whatsoever. It's a defense mechanism. So I don't have to deal with the me side of the equation.
Who am I to sit down and assess whether a stranger's behaviour is justified? The "journalism" covering this is ridiculous. Both sides.
I'm not going to defend Bale's moment of rage. But I'm not going to define him by it either. More than anything, I'm creeped out that the tape was leaked in the first place. Not cool.
Let's just remember that Bale and Kermit the Frog have much in common. That he was a Newsie. That he has the cutest daughter ever. That he's brilliant at his craft. And that he's JUST A MAN.
I'm on Team Bale. Because everyone needs someone on their team, even when they're in the wrong. Maybe especially when they're in the wrong.
P.S. I still love Mel Gibson post-drunken tirade. I forgive all. P.P.S. If you want to be really scared of Bale, watch Harsh Times. I had to turn away. P.P.P.S No, I'm not going to link to the rant. You can Google it if you can't stand being the one person on the planet who hasn't heard it. I recommend listening to a remix of it. Or the one with Bill O'Reilly. But not if you're under 14. Kids, just say no to profanity. Keep those ears lovely.
It's pouring, contrary to yesterday's forecast of this evening. This is why weathermen scare me. They smile their perfect cheery smiles, look me in the eye, and lie to me. Sociopaths.
I thought I was going to a party tonight. But apparently, had I gone, I would have been the only one there. So instead of shooting the breeze with John Malkovich right now, I'm sipping tea and getting ready to watch the final Canadian Idol performance show (for my cute little Idol blog) before heading off to bed.
The plan is to maximize on sleep tonight. Because, tomorrow, for the first time in my 25 years, I'm going to an event that doesn't even start until after 11. On a weekday. I may be insane.
But would you risk the consequences of sleep-deprivation for a late night with Matt Damon? See, I would. And so I shall.
I really should watch a movie at the festival, instead of just hanging out with those who make them. Last year I watched I'm Not There, mesmerized by Cate Blanchett (and completely enamored with the casting choices of Bale and Ledger pre-Dark Knight). The year before, I saw my own name flash on the screen during the end credits before donning my Sleeping Dogs trucker hat (I heart swag) and catching up with a crew I have not seen since. And then there was Harsh Times. I just sat there alone, terrified of the man who would be Bruce Wayne. Not a fun one, folks. I'm sure I've seen more, but my brain is failing me right now. How rare.
Speaking of casting (I rock at the segue. I actually steered a conversation with "Speaking of calcium" last week), there a hilarious rumor started last week about Cher being cast at Catwoman in the inevitable Dark Knight sequel. But, hey, I bought Blanchett as Bob Dylan. So, really, I'm gonna stay out of this one.
Read the buzz over at MovieZen. (Cher has since denied this. But actors are like weathermen. They lie.)
My brain is a little fried today. I haven't been sleeping well, and I have way too much on my mind (although I don't think the lack of sleep is related to the brain activity, oddly enough). I highly recommend the playing-piano-after-midnight solution to insomnia. No, it doesn't put you to sleep, but there's a rawer form of creativity spilling from your fingertips when there's no alertness barrier.
So the piano and a late night is my new favorite duo. The sum is greater than its parts. Although the parts are pretty darn fantastic on their own.
Don't roll your eyes. I know, I know, Ryan is supposed to be my fake boyfriend. But he and Rachel were meant to be together. I'm totally on Team McGosling.
But when it comes to power couples, Leonardo DiCaprio and Martin Scorsese take the cake. I don't remember really caring for either until they started working together.
I posted about some great actor/director pairings over at MovieZen. And yes, Bale made the cut. As did a shout-out to my dead boyfriend Jimmy. 'Cause a favorite is a favorite. And I'm comfortably transparent about such things.
I saw The Dark Knight. I may see it again. Because it's almost too big to take in in a single viewing.
Do not take your children. They will be traumatized.
I winced. I shuddered. I laughed. I was emotionally involved in a movie based on a comic book.
Heath's performance is NOT overrated. So if you're anticipating awesomeness, it will still exceed your expectations.
I'm on Team Christian, so don't bring up the alleged assault incident around me. I'll get defensive. The whole accusation sounds straight-up Sketchy McSketcherson.
The next film needs a woman. A great complicated woman. Perhaps in a cat suit?
Katie Holmes shot her career in the foot when she fell for a tiny, crazy Scientologist. She could have been in a great movie.
If Christopher Nolan were to call me, I would be Batgirl. In an instant.
The movie is dark, yes, and also quite complicated in its morality. The whole thing is an exercise in philosophy and psychology. So if you don't want to think about your own moral code, this movie might frustrate you a little.
If I were a member of the Academy, I would give Ledger an Oscar. Not because he's dead. But because his performance is astonishing. Every. Single. Detail.
I don't typically take pictures of vehicles. My cool-car radar is often in a state of malfunction. But yesterday it kicked in. I saw a cool car. And so I snapped away.
I'm not sure why they're spending so much money promoting a flick that will break a pile of records regardless of publicity stunts. But I quite enjoyed checking out Bruce Wayne's ride. Unfortunately, the Caped Crusader was not on hand. I checked.
(Check out my MovieZen entry on the parenting priorities of The Dark Knight's cast.)
I caught a screening of Wanted last night. Highly recommended for those of you who are over the age of 18 and appreciate watching gunfights of creative awesomeness. (And you don't mind rodents being used a weapons. Or having fate dictated by weaving looms. I kid you not. It's an action film about weavers.)
I am James McAvoy's character. Before he discovers he's an assassin. I'm still the stuck-in-a-cubicle version.
Inspirational quote of the night:
Six weeks ago, I was ordinary and pathetic, just like you.
~James McAvoy as Wesley
Go see it. Or wait for Batman. Whatever floats your brooding-hero boat.
I'm one of those movie fans who generally knows nothing about the comic book yet still eagerly shows up for the superhero movie of the month. I figure that if the movie's any good, it will be stand-alone. It shouldn't expect that its audience has a massive amount of background knowledge. At the same time, it should satisfy those friends of mine who know in excruciating detail the characters and story lines that are being brought to life.
Which is why I'll never adapt a comic book. Too much pressure. Too many people to satisfy. And too many people unwilling to be satisfied.
I loved Iron Man. Even though I knew nothing of Tony Stark prior to sitting in my seat. Ditto with Hellboy. Seriously. Rent it. And I think everyone who knows me (even as a most distant acquaintance) knows how I feel about the upcoming The Dark Knight. It's the reason July exists.
I know nothing about the Green Hornet. So I have no expectations for a movie about him. I do, however, know who Seth Rogen is. And, well, he's not exactly Robert Downey Jr. (who looks stunning considering a history of substance abuse that should have stripped him of any physical beauty. Lucky man). Or Bale. Or even Maguire. But he's signed on to write and star in the film adaptation of the masked crime-fighter. And I'm simultaneously confused and intrigued.
He was on the cover of Seventeen Magazine back in the day. Shocking, no? This was before I was old enough to read such magazines. I think I was 11.
For those of you who've known me for more than two days, you know that I am pretty loyal to Christian Bale. Ridiculously so. Fortunately, our relationship has transitioned over the years. The swoon factor has faded into respect for his craft. And I will defend him. To the point of fisticuffs. He's like my super-cool, talented, secret cousin. You do not have permission to mock him in front of me. Unless I happen to like you more than him. Which is unlikely. So tread carefully.
I waxed poetic about my love of Bale over at MovieZen. Shocking, I know. But he's going to show up in the next installment of The Terminator franchise. And I'll probably beg one of you to come see it with me. Not that I have a problem going to the movies solo. It's my superpower.
I know you're all familiar with the awesomeness of his Batman. So for our Sunday YouTube party, I'm going to throw some lesser known gems at you. And none of the videos are from Newsies. Because you should go watch the entire thing. (I own it on VHS and DVD. And I have the soundtrack. Let me know if you need to borrow it.)
Swing Kids. Christian Bale dances with Robert Sean Leonard. Until Nazi Noah Wyle shows up:
Little Women. The most frustrating scene in both the book and movie. She turns him down. For Gabriel Byrne?! Hey, I'm pretty sensitive to the young-writer-in-need-of-an-adventure thing. And sure, a poor smart guy with an umbrella is pretty irresistible. But really, Jo. Over Laurie?
(Ending is here. Awkward accent. Cheesy line. Still one of my favorite movies ever.)
"Jo. Such a little name for such a person." I swear, I always think he's going to say "such a big person." Which would crack me up. Advice to my male readers: Don't call a girl big. Especially when proposing. It's only funny to the rest of us.
The exasperating Bale moment:
There are so many awkward fan videos of the man on YouTube. It was hard to find non-doctored scenes. Really, girls, did we need a montage from Little Women to Enrique's "Hero"?
And why can every guy play that song on the guitar? Every. Single. One.
Empire of the Sun. Spielberg's most underrated masterpiece. I was tempted to just post scene after scene. I'd say go rent it, but really, you should buy it. The first clip is a little long, but by the end, it's child acting at its best. Scrap that. It's acting at its best. Child or otherwise.
American Psycho. His breakout role. There is no killing in this scene. Just business cards.
Rescue Dawn. And finally, the trailer for a powerful little movie that no one saw. Except me. For the Lost fans out there, find the two cast members in the trailer. Highly recommended. But not if you're in the mood for a romantic comedy.
I'll stop myself here. For now.
I was going to end with some brilliant movie quote of Christian's. But somehow "I promise to kiss you before you die" doesn't seem appropriate. Nor does "I need to engage in homicidal behavior on a massive scale."
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