I am not the biggest booster of Philippe Claudel’s “I’ve Loved You So Long”, which opens tomorrow, but I do think that Kristin Scott Thomas is absolutely amazing in the film — like, Oscar-buzzy amazing.
We talk about it some in the latest issue of NOW, or you could just save yourself some time and read the online version.
I mean, you’re already connected …
… the “Get Smart” movie doesn’t suck?
I know, I’m as surprised as you are. But I argue the case in my latest Sympatico/MSN DVD column, which you are now surely dying to read.
We all did, really.
Let’s hear it for the fake Americans who got out the vote, and for all the real Americans who woke up and realized the country needed to be saved from itself.
Oh, and: Bradley Effect, my ass. The country just turned around and told the world it’s going to smarten up and do better. Let’s get on with it.
Look, everyone knows where I stand by now. I’m just saying: Vote.
If you’re an American citizen, and you have a vote, use it. Even if you vote for the other guy. That’s not the point. In every election — Canadian or American — there are millions of eligible people who don’t vote. Out of exasperation, out of cynicism, out of laziness, out of idealism, whatever.
Those people are idiots. The only thing they’re doing is denying themselves a voice. Don’t be like that.
Come on. Vote. Take a stand.
It’s now or never.
Yes, my friends, we can breathe easily and unclench our collective sphincters — my luggage was delivered to our door at about 5:30 pm yesterday, a mere 66 hours after I landed at Pearson. Nothing broken, nothing lost; the bags were a little dusty from sitting in some holding area somewhere, but that was the worst of it.
Thanks for your concern over these trying days of crisis. It’s been appreciated.
What? Were you thinking of something else?
This isn’t the first time I’ve had luggage go missing during an international flight, but it’s certainly the longest it’s taken for the airline to find and deliver said luggage. Like, fifty-nine hours and counting. And what I’m counting is the dwindling number of my remaining clothes.
Aaaanyway. I’m sure my fourteenth call to Air Canada’s outsourced telephone bank will bring me a little closer to resolving this endless nightmare. In the meantime, here’s my latest Sympatico/MSN gallery, running down nine great movies about moviemaking that you’ll be much better off seeing instead of “What Just Happened?” and “Zack and Miri Make a Porno”.
Oh, and here’s Friday’s NOW Daily piece about Cinematheque Ontario’s new Nagisa Oshima retrospective, which somehow slipped my mind when I was building the other day’s post. Probably because I was worrying about my missing pants.
Sad news: Studs Terkel has died.
Not that anyone should be terribly surprised by the death of a 96-year-old man — peacefully, in his home — but it’s sad that he won’t be around to see the results of Tuesday’s election, and to talk to people about it.
Talking to people was what he did better than almost anyone else, and then he took his tape recorder home and turned those conversations into a series of books, organized by subject.
Taken as a whole, those books constitute a comprehensive oral history of 20th-century America. Well, not history, exactly, as much as an ongoing conversation about what America was at that moment, and was on its way to becoming. If journalism is the first draft of history, Studs Terkel was its greatest draughtsman.
It took about 23 hours to get from the Vienna Hilton to my front door yesterday, but it was worth it — I’ve been away too long, and it’s good to be back home.
It would have been nice if my luggage had made it back with me, but I’m assured it’ll be delivered this afternoon. I can afford to be Zen about it; these things happen, there wasn’t anything in the bags that I desperately needed today (except possibly for contact-lens solution), and I’d brought my precious sachertorte back in my carry-on bag.
The only downside is that I now have to raid what’s left of my wardrobe for a decent shirt, because I’m apparently going on CTV Newsnet at around 12:15 this afternoon to talk about the week’s new movies. You know the drill: Rogers Cable 62, I’ll be the guy in the largish box on the upper left.
Incidentally, I know I’ve been lax in doing my weekly movie rundown — there just wasn’t the time to put it all together on the last couple of Thursday evenings/Friday mornings. Sorry for the deprivation; normal service will resume next week, just in time for us to start fighting over “Synecdoche, New York”.
That’s that, then: The 2008 edition of the Viennale wrapped up last night with an awards presentation, a gala screening of Ari Folman’s animated documentary “Waltz with Bashir” — which, you may recall, I caught at Cannes — and a very nice closing party. The festival’s own wrapup is available here.
Our FIPRESCI jury gave its prize to Miguel Gomes’ “Our Beloved Month of August“, which seemed to go down pretty well with the audience. And now, very early in the morning, I am finishing the last of my packing and getting ready to head back to Toronto via London.
Anybody need anything? Tea? Jaffa cakes?
My latest Sympatico/MSN DVD column is up, featuring “Zombie Strippers!” because, what the hell, it’s Halloween.
(This does not constitute an endorsement.)
In other news, my jury duty is over, and I plan to spend the day wandering the streets of Vienna in search of sachertorte, sausage, chocolate and beer, and not necessarily in that order.
Can’t overdo it, of course; I have to be somewhat presentable at tonight’s gala. It’s all about moderation. And buying stuff to take home.