Movie reviews; Anchorman 2 and The Book Thief. SPOILER ALERT!

I've been getting to the flicks a bit more recently for some reason. I mean, I spent the last 5 years living in a haze of sleep deprivation and borderline insanity, so I suppose it stands to reason that now that I'm coming out the other side I'm re-engaging with POPULAR CULTURE.

Anyway over Christmas I went to see Anchorman 2 with my Dad and brother.  Then last week I went to see The Book Thief. Herein lies my reviews of the two movies, for your delectation.

WARNING: INCLUDES SPOILERS. ALSO MAY BE UNINTELLIGABLE.

Anchorman 2

From the moment the movie began, with sweeping shots over the mountains and music reverberating through the hillside, I knew it was a winner.  It's been a long time since I felt so emotional about a film, but Anchorman 2 moved me in ways I never thought possible. I laughed, I cried, I reprimanded the young man behind me for kicking my chair.

In the sequel to beloved epic drama "Anchorman", Will Ferrel reprises his role as romantic hero Ron Burgandy, along with his cohorts Steve Carrell, that blonde piece from Married with Children, and some other people too.

I was a bit worried that this movie wouldn't live up to expectations, what with the original Anchorman being my favourite movie an' all, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Who could fail to be moved to tears as Ron and his beloved Veronica struggle through marital woes? What cold hearted monster wouldn't be stirred by the tumultuous storyline, as Ron battles against the thing that he battles against and Veronica, you know, something something? When mentally challenged weather man Brick (Steve Carrel) fought valiantly against technology and lost his legs in the process, I wept with him, great tears of anger and sorrow.

This movie is surely a fable of our times. Not since "Gone with the Wind" has a movie so captured the spirit of an age.

My favourite moments included that part when the guys say "You made Brick cry!" and then Brick cries all emotional and spazzy-like on the couch and that, the part at the beginning when Ron says "I'm laughing like a ventriloquist dummy!", and of course the epic and historical battle of the news teams, which in my mind can be likened to such famous scenes as that bit in Ben Hur when the chariot race happens, and that part when Indiana Jones is totally running for his life from that big rolling ball thing.

I give it eleventy out of ten. And no, I don't care that it isn't a real score.

The Book Thief

How good was this movie?! Talk about upbeat! I laughed til I cried.

It's the story of feisty young orphan Liesel, living in Nazi Germany (wasn't that regime a barrel of laughs!), who is adopted by a warm hearted couple after her younger brother dies on the train journey being made by her mother as she goes to give up her children. HYSTERICAL, RIGHT!? Liesel gets up to all sorts of crazy hijinks including, you guessed it, pinching books! She even nicks one from a burning pile of, um, well, books!

Liesel's adopted family spend the war hiding a young Jewish man (Max), and he and Liesel forge a close bond as he lives in the house's basement. That is, until circumstances force the young man to LEAVE FOREVER. CHEERY RIGHT!?

Even though her beloved Max leaves, Liesel begins to feel at home, and begins to love her new parents, and her new neighbourhood friend Rudy.

THAT IS UNTIL THE WHOLE LOT OF THEM ARE KILLED IN A BOMB BLAST NEAR THE END OF THE MOVIE! I KNOW! FUNNIEST THING EVER!

The movie ends with Liesel DYING! You heard me right!

If you are looking for a lighthearted romp through history, then look no further than this laugh-a-minute comedy. YOU WON'T REGRET IT!

I give it one million out of ten.

THE END

PS. In weird blogging news I seem to be being flooded with new Facebook likers, whom I suspect may be Spambots. LEAVE ME ALONE SPAMBOTS! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? I HAVE NOTHING! NOTHING I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Joan Baez chooses diamonds.

Mum and I went to see Joan Baez in concert last Monday night. I had bought tickets for Mum’s birthday, which was very nice of me in theory, but fairly amusing in reality when you think about the money that mum has given me over the years and even very recently when I needed it.  Stupid money I loathe and despise it. But I need it. DAMN IT. I suppose it is the thought that counts.

Anyway I met Mum after work and we had dinner at a Turkish restaurant in South Bank. In keeping with the moderately geriatric theme of the evening, we had dinner at 5.30pm. The Russian waiter was a little incredulous when we told him, oh no, we have plenty of time, the show doesn’t start til 8pm! My mother doesn’t like being late for things, and fair enough I say.

We ordered a huge carb and protein heavy platter for two that consisted of practically a whole loaf of bread and dips, twenty thousand lamp chops and kofta. We then proceeded to discover we were not equal to this gargantuan meal. I was feeling uncomfortable and overfull which is not a good thing when you have a late night at a rock concert* ahead of you. My eyes are notoriously too big for my tummy, and my tummy is pretty big so that is saying something.

As you can imagine, we ambled over to the performing arts centre with plenty of time. In fact we had to wait around for quite a while in the foyer, watching the other audience members arrive. It probably comes as no surprise that I lowered the demographic considerably, the average age making Mum look like a veritable spring chicken. There was a proliferation of Comfortable Shoes, with a trend towards the Walking Sandal or Smart Sneaker, and there were even numerous fans arriving in their wheelchairs. Mum remarked that it wouldn’t be long before we saw someone turn up in a hospital gurney attached to a drip.

I hasten to add that it didn’t bother me in the slightest - I mean, the last time I had been to see a show at QPAC was when I attended amatinee of the opera Carmen with my aunt and members of her University of the Third Age posse. Because I came straight from work I realised I had even worn the same outfit as I did on that occasion. I am so glamorous. But seriously, I am anything if ageist and frankly my tastes often run to the more mature anyway. Just check out my husband! I KID I KID!

Being early to find our seats meant we had to stand up while others in our row shuffled by, including one older lady who, as she squeezed past, exclaimed, “Why, you’re very YOUNG!”. As she moved towards her place, she spied another young-ish man and shouted “And YOU are very young TOO!!”

We looked apologetically at each other.

I mean what could we do? I’m not that young really. I can like Joan Baez. So sue me.

Pretty funny to see that Woodstock brigade getting about as senior citizens these days. Hahahaaa.

Anyway Joan was really fantastic. She looks amazing. She is really beautiful and gets about with a close cropped grey hairdo that I hope to emulate one day. I found the concert very soothing at a time in my life that I am finding very stressful.

Also she is a reminder we need to get our activist on a bit more. She is a true believer.

 

 

 

 

My sister-in-law was at the concert too, but I didn’t get to see her, because Joan, the trooper that she is, powered on for a whole 2 hours or so without a break.

 She sang all the old favourites like “The night they drove old Dixie down”, and that sort of bittersweet song she wrote about Bob Dylan, “Diamonds and Rust”.

Instead of singing this angst ridden final line;

And if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid

She offered up her own lighthearted, updated version, and sang;

And if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I choose diamonds

And quite right too. So would I.

 *geriatric folk music concert