My Mom Hated "The Lobster" and I Made Her Tell Me All About It

Greetings fellow humans!

I have a special treat in store!

I recently watched "The Lobster" (2015).  The decision to watch that film ran strongly counter to the counsel of my mom, who will henceforth be referred to as PsychoCineMom, and who hated, HATED "The Lobster."

After seeing the movie and formulating my own strong opinions, I decided to check in with PsychoCineMom to discuss.

LUCKY FOR YOU DEAR READERS, I recorded that discussion.  Below, please find, for your immense reading pleasure:

"The Lobster": A Discussion with My Mom, 

Who Hated It

Needless to say: this post contains spoilers.  Spoilers galore.  Spoilers contained herein largely concern "The Lobster," obviously, but also another of director Yorgos Lanthimos's films, "Dogtooth" (2009).  And kind of but not really "In Bruges" (2008).  As a result, this post also includes another PsychoCinematic first: a jump! (See the fancy html coding IN ACTION below!)

I know I just said that henceforth mom will be referred to as PsychoCineMom, but for shortness-of-title-in-the-interview-transcription's sake, she will henceforth be referred to as PCMom.

Because the interview was thorough, you will note that I have also included subheadings for anyone who's interested in hearing PCMom's perspectives on various "Lobster"-related topics.  Those headings include:

• PCMom Summarizes "The Lobster"
• PCMom Rates "The Lobster"
• PCMom Identifies the Only Parts of "The Lobster" She Liked
• PCMom Discusses the Aesthetics of "The Lobster"
• PCMom Discusses Her Absolute Least Favorite Part of "The Lobster"
• An Assessment the Main Character's Motivation
• I Reveal My Feelings About "The Lobster"
• I Put My Feelings About "The Lobster" In Context Given that "Dogtooth" was Worse
• I Acknowledge My Capacity to Revel in Sadistic Humor
• An Assessment of the Main Character's Character
• I Reveal My Rating of "The Lobster"
• PCMom Should Maybe Not Be Allowed to Interview Yorgos Lanthimos
• An Assessment of the Use of Animal Cruelty in Cinema
• PCMom Reassesses Her Rating

Without further ado:

Goodbye, Mr. Cunningham

Hello,

In what's been a very dramatic and often very depressing few weeks, I wanted to ensure this news item didn't miss our attention:

This weekend, Bill Cunningham, the photographer behind the New York Times's recurring "On the Street" fashion photoessay, passed away.

Friends who have been following this blog from early on may remember that I reviewed "Bill Cunningham New York" (2010), the documentary profiling Mr. Cunningham and his remarkable life and work.  (You can check out that original post here.)

Although unfortunately the film isn't currently available to live stream on Netflix (as it thankfully was when I first watched it), it's still available as a DVD rental through the service.  It's also rentable through Amazon and iTunes and may be streamable through Hulu.  If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

Thank you for your passion and dedication, Mr. Cunningham.

{Heart}

The "Legend" of the Next Chapter

Hihihi!

It's very late and I must go to bed soon.

But!

By way of (two) quick updates:

• New job is great!  New apartment is great!

The upgrade in quality of life since our move to New Home is sweeping, stunning, and instantaneous.  Husband and I actually get to see each other!  We have space!  Kittens are happy!  Work is busy but has (at least for the moment exceedingly) reasonable hours!

• A few months ago I watched a movie I wanted to write about, even briefly, because it's my impression that it is woefully underappreciated.

"Legend" (2015)!

Normally gangster movies really don't do much for me.  They perpetuate a tired and weird nostalgic bad-old-days mystique, they're predictable, they glorify psychopathy, and they try to swaddle misogyny in the bogus guise of infatuated "love" gone awry.  (Ew.  Spare me please, especially on this latter infraction.  Dragging someone into your drugs-and-violence-fueled catastrophic death spiral is not romantic.)

And yet!  For several reasons, I REALLY enjoyed this movie:

1. Telling an English version of a solidly American narrative gives the story a fun new flavor.

2. The 1960s mod aesthetic makes for fun costuming.

3. The fight scenes are genuinely bruising, badass, and very well-shot.

But the real standout reason to watch this movie is, very unfortunately, perhaps why it seems like basically no one saw it:

4. The main characters in the movies are twins, both of whom are played by Tom Hardy.

Even though I deeply love Tom Hardy, I almost avoided seeing "Legend" altogether because I was thrown by what I perceived as a possibly bizarrely terribad gimmick.  There was something about the trailers that didn't properly convey the "No guys but seriously this performance is actually great!!" that is warranted for this film.

Because it is!!  It is so great!!

The Kray brothers are well-developed characters who have independent arcs, and their arcs interact in at times surprising ways.  Of course their fraternal blood bond is (at times literally) wrestled with, with each brother representing either the siren song of a life of crime (Ronnie Kray) and the fragile hope of living "right" (Reggie Kray).  So the writing in this movie is actually pretty excellent, as evidenced by the new life breathed into an arguably pretty tired gangster trope.

But really, none of that would hit quite so hard if these characters weren't brought to life through Hardy's performance(s).  He is absolutely magnetic.  Far from being a distracting gimmick, the fact that he plays two of the film's main characters is delightful; not only do you get more Tom Hardy (yes plz), but you get to watch a very skilled actor thread the very challenging needle of having to act against himself.

So see it!

I gave the movie a 4.5.  Obvi I'm only holding out on that last .5 because Tom Hardy didn't play triplets.  #moretomhardyplease

{Heart}

Grasping and Goodbyes

Hey guys,

In two weeks (minus one day), Husband and I will be moving to our new city.

I've been waiting for the sadness over leaving our where-we-live-now City for months now.  I was waiting for it so vigilantly and yet not sensing it that I had started to think it just wouldn't arrive.

Certainly, we're moving to another great city, where many friends are waiting for us and our new home will be extraordinarily wonderful and my new job is extremely exciting.  Our City hasn't served us in lots of little, accumulating ways for a long time; not enough space, money, or time for too long hardened my heart against it, both because that hardening is somewhat justified and because I needed to steel myself against feeling the loss of what we were giving up to step into the next chapter of our lives.  It made sense to simply feel ready to leave.  Perhaps, it made sense that the sadness would never come.

But here it is.

It sent its first harbinger two weeks ago, when I took a day off work to a) take some time to enjoy the City and b) try to use up some of my unexpectedly large reserve of vacation time.  I went to see a movie at my favorite this-City movie theater, with the plan to follow up with the most passable version of Mexican food I've been able to find since moving here almost seven years ago.

The theater plays the same sweet, exuberant little animated sequence before every feature, during which it lays down the law about the behavioral expectations of its audience (including, "NO FIGHTING" and the equally important "NO BITING").  It then concludes with what it boldly promises to offer in return: NO BAD MOVIES.  Tears instantly slid down my face.  Oh I will miss this place.

Last night, some of our most precious friends celebrated our departure with us.  It was so good.  It's so good to so fully enjoy the company of other human beings.

Upon returning to our neighborhood and our little street, quieted and made orangey black by late night street light, the sadness finally arrived full-strength.  I have taken for granted this little street, and had even begun to feel relieved to be leaving it, and yet for almost seven years, it's been so willingly and consistently ours.  But in two weeks, it'll never be ours again.

I woke up this morning to my mind desperately searching for ways to squeeze more contact out of this City before we go.  Could I go see that park I love?  Or that museum?  When's the next time I see my friends?  What about the time after that?  But what about after that?

I want to cling to the promise left in these two weeks (minus one day) that I can still fully be here, even as I pack my belongings and leave my job and say goodbye to people and places I love so much I let them feel so comfortably like home, like they were mine, that I somehow thought I could leave them and still have them.

The merciful thing about most people and most places is that they do, at least for a time, remain.  I can and will come back, and I can still love these people and things even though I leave.  But suddenly, in my sadness, I want to snatch up and cling tightly to as many things as I can to fend off my grief at knowing I'll be saying goodbye to them very soon.  It's so much harder to sit in the sadness and see that there's no averting each of these goodbyes.

I love this City because it loves movies.  I love it for many other reasons too.  I love my friends because they love movies.  Last night, we talked about the films we've walked out of (or fell asleep during) and spent several minutes naming our favorite quotes from a favorite TV series (to the consternation of one of us).  I also love them for too many other reasons to ever possibly honor fully here.

But for our purposes here, in this forum, here is my immense sadness to say goodbye to this City and these people who love movies with me.

Here is my immense wish to grasp these things tightly and deny my inevitable departure.

Here is my immense gratitude that this sadness is so great, since it points to so much joy brought into my life by these precious people and places.

And here is my loving goodbye.

{Heart}

Thanks Past Me!

Salut!

Guys SO MANY THINGS ARE HAPPENING.

1) Husband and I are moving to a new city.

2) Husband and I found a new apartment in aforementioned new city that is AMAZING.
     a) Our new neighborhood includes an independent movie theater with 7 DOLLAR MATINEES.

3) I have a new job starting in May that will also be AMAZING.

As things have been coming together over the last several months to culminate in all of these changes, I've been reflecting over the last 6 1/2 years of training.  To be thoroughly inclusive, with the additional two years it took to get work experience and actually gain entry to the right graduate program, the process to get to this point, where I finally fully launch my career, has comprised almost a decade of persistent, variously exhausting, work.

I'm feeling so grateful for the part of myself that was willing to keep going throughout this exceedingly long, tiring, at times heartbreaking process.  As anyone who's periodically checked in with this blog is likely aware, these years of training have not been easy.  I've wanted to stop so many times and for so many reasons.  I coped with the dissonance of desperately wanting to bail and nevertheless continuing with varying degrees of appropriateness and success.

One particularly alluring escapist fantasy involved absconding to a Greek island to change my name so debtors could never find me and serve yogurt to tourists for a living.  And possibly drive a scooter.

Husband was maybe going to be a cook at my yogurt-serving restaurant.  Or maybe a goatherd.

I mean who could resist THAT FACE?  Especially when the alternative is comprised of running statistical analyses for dissertation while being paid poverty-level wages to break up fights between very unhappy children?  Why would ANYONE choose that over goaties and yogurt???

But I did.  Over and over.  Many times, I was angry at myself for not being willing to give up.  I wondered what the hell was wrong with me that would allow me to keep returning to places that made me feel depressed, under-appreciated, or unsafe.

Now, as I finally come to the end of this process, I'm able to see that stubbornness, persistence, and strength as the virtues they are, and I'm so grateful to have them.  I had no idea what was ahead of me, but because of these things about me, I now get to live a life I'm excited about and inspired by.

This new life is a gift I worked very, very hard for many years to give myself, despite having no idea what the gift contained.

Even beyond that, now that I'm coming to the end of my training, it's such a blessing to realize that in addition to years of experience and a degree and a job, what I've gained are hard-won reasons to love myself more.  The feeling of pride I have in myself in this moment is small, and quiet, and precious, and very, very strong.

I'm glad I've chronicled the ups and downs (and movies) of the last few years, and I'm so excited to continue during my next chapter.

Hurray!

{Heart}