27 November 2005
PHOTO DIARY.
 Ah, the joys of owning both a rug and a cat, and having to clean both. I can finally finish that fur hat I've been working on.
PLAY: ROMANCE (2005).
A trial involving fraud devolves into chaos. Mamet? Writing a comedy? Nicki & I had to go and see for ourselves. As it turns out, Mamet's rat-a-tat chatter lends itself well to the absurd, as his characters spit racial and homophobic epithets at each other in a malestrom of shit-flinging worthy of any episode of South Park—but plus the intellecutal vigor afforded by the author of Glengarry, Glen Ross and other highbrow swear-fests.
See, it's one thing to rent a Mamet film and marvel at the dialogue; to see it actually performed live adds an almost dangerous thrill. The players, often forced to wait patiently for the audience through their spasms of laughter, somehow managed to stay the course as they recited their bile with brilliantly moronic gravitas. Solving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through back massage? Oh yes, deadly serious; our bellies hurt from laughing so hard. The actual romance in Romance comes from various sources, like perpetually stoned judge's desire for peace in the Middle East, or the desperate pleas by the prosecutor's secret gay lover, &c. &c. In the end, the play boils down to an amused Mamet doodling out a string of comical vignettes with the virtuosity of a master, wholly without the stunning revelations of his normally mathematically constructed plots. But as far as trifles go, you can't do much better. Now if only someone made a soundboard for this just like they did for Al Pacino's Ricky Roma.
—You people can't even order a grilled cheese sandwich without mentioning the Holocaust. —My people do not eat grilled cheese sandwiches! —Because they're not kosher? —Because they're not tasty!
MOVIE: PRIDE & PREJUDICE (2005).
A young woman resists her parents' wishes to marry her to an unpleasant but wealthy gentleman. Jane Austen Society and fans of the 1995 BBC miniseries be damned, say I—this version of the Beloved Classic that Will Never Go Away is the best yet. The same guys who did Love, Actually are behind this film, and they bring all of their wit, pace, and easy charm with them. The inhabitants of this film seem so completely at home in their world of Victorian-era England that they make other films of their genre (Emma, even) feel stilted and stage-bound. The producers wisely opted to inject just the right amount of postmodern bluster, casual conversation, and natuarlistic body language to paint a portrait that is convincingly fresh for a modern audience. People sweat, even! And bump into one another, while hoisting drinks!
Sacrelige to say, but Matthew MacFadyen plays the stylishly tortured Mr. Darcy with a precise, Clive Owen-like restraint; even Keira Knightley performs well enough for me to forgive her self-aware hotness, as well as her pretentiously sassy underbite. But aside from all of the classically engaging he-said-she-said drama, we get to see an indomitable Judy Dench attacking the head of the Bennet family, played by Donald Sutherland with a sensitivity that glows as warmly as the English countryside in the summer. Lovely enough to make a novel about class-bickering among the rich seem positively romantic.
Ah—sir: Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Bennet, and ... Miss Bennet.
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