A stage built over a pool of water. Floating candles. Fluttering blossoms. Fire-red kimonos. A trembling Butterfly finally seduced by Pinkerton. The mingling of voices when Butterfly and Suzuki sing the flower duet. The shuffling of the servants' feet. The quick steps of the little boy who played Butterfly's son, and the way Butterfly sometimes covered his ears tenderly with her hands to prevent him from being startled by her enormous voice. And what a tremendous ending...
Lessons that modern girls can draw from Madame Butterfly.
- Get over him. Seriously. Stop staring into the distance, put on some rouge, and go out.
- If you're a single mother, abandoned by your lover, and a nice, wealthy man wants to marry you, consider it.
- He won't always be calling you "Little flower". Don't be upset by this. You won't always think of yourself as the "happiest girl/woman" either. No need to panic or reach for a dagger.
- Don't change your religion for any man unless you really, really want it. When he's gone, you don't want to be stuck with god(s) you don't like.
- Handsome is as handsome does.
- Stick to your girlfriends always.
- Notice that you don't see anyone looking at photos anymore? No more moms coming out of the pharmacy, bag hanging open, brand new pictures of Junior already being shuffled in her hot little hands? No more teenage girls sitting in cafes with sheafs of vacation snaps, squealing at the cute boys, warning each other not to get their fingerprints all over the photos? That's because it's all digital now.
- Celebrity is different in Quebec. I cross paths with actor Eric Bernier regularly in the Plateau. Musician David Bussières, of Alfa Rococo fame and brother to actress Pascale Bussières, lives two doors over. Summertime means spotting Leonard Cohen in various eateries around Portuguese Park. They seem to be happy, relaxed people going around the business of their lives. Nobody accosts them or tries to peek into their grocery baskets. They can pick their noses as merrily and as frequently as possible. I'm sure Brangelina would kill to have even a tenth of their freedom.
- To block out my distaste of "Life Aquatic"
- Because I like India
- Because I like Owen Wilson
- Because I like darjeeling tea
- The moment when Rita, the stewardess, is standing in the door speaking to Jack - did you notice that in the mirror behind her in the room, you can see her long exquisite back and just a whisper of her bum?
- The Hotel Chevalier short that opened the film - and the film itself - is essentially about gestures and the meaning we attach to them. I kept getting the breath knocked out of me for the smallest gestures, the tiniest of movements. Natalie Portman depositing her perfume bottle in the chest. Jack clicking through to the song of his choice on the iPod. Natalie Portman keeping her socks on.
- And Natalie Portman just knocked me out. I found the whole scene really sexy. How often do you walk up your street hoping to see that person sitting on the curb, waiting for you? How often do you wish the phone to ring, an unexpected call from that person, informing you that they're coming over right now, whether you like it or not? NPortman coming through that door - unapologetic about not wanting him a month ago, about the men she may have slept with in the meanwhile, about wanting him now and that's all that matters - was pure sex. It was charged and hot and it made me start casting hopeful glances to my front door...
- The funeral for the boy, and all those gorgeous brown children with dusty faces
Ho visto un annuncio pubblicitario per il ristorante Mikes. In quest’annuncio vediamo une bimba che dice, “La gondola, papi? Capisce?”
Io non capisco perché tutti pensano che “capisce” è una parola cosi buffa.
Abbiate visto troppe puntate di “The Sopranos”?
“Mr. Lutz. You ate all my parakeet’s medication, and thanks to you, Sonny Crockett has been having seizures all morning."
Oh Tina, let's be friends!
- My thanks to the person who finds me almost every day with "adriana palanca!" - 44 times in the last month. I love the fact that I am worthy of an exclamation point.
- Every now and again, someone enters the term "palanca feet". The number one result when you search for that phrase leads to a website featuring pencil drawings of men with enormous penises. I mean ENORMOUS. If anyone can explain this, I'd be very interested to hear you out.
- Although "Borderline movie" and "moonwalking bear" generate quite a lot of traffic, the top keywords that lead to my blog have to do with hair - "stop picking hair", "stop picking stomach hair" and "stop picking feet" (the feet again...)
Funniest: SoulAfrodisiac - "Monday Madness"
R Kelly and his pedophile ass: I am hoping that this is the last time that I even have to give any kind of attention to this idiot on my page. I do not and have not supported this man on his musical journey for a very long time now–genius or not. I believe the last album that I own from this sicko is The Chocolate Factory and that's only because I had to review it for a magazine. There is no way I would spend money to help his defense team get him off! So to think that this idiot had the nerve to try and get his trial delayed YET again, just proves to me that he has something to hide. And now news surfaces about a young lady who is going to testify to being a participant in a three way with The Pied Piper (he obviously didn't think out that nickname properly) is on the horizon. Oh boy, Robert–just say it was you and deal with the consequences that your peeing-on-young-girls nasty self got into. Dutty, just dutty.
Sweetest: Eventually Clever - "Tarantino Parenting"
I’m long past my wide-eyed fixation with the Tarantino oeuvre (though I confess that Death Proof looks pretty sweet), but soundtracks keep running through my head, and I’m passing them along to my children.
Smartest: Anne Chudobiak - "Awkward a la Montreal"
I also recognize one of the authors, although it takes a while for me to figure out why. I don’t know him, but I know his features. I’ve seen them on his young son. Once, at the library, when Junior was going through some kind of violent preschooler phase, he’d leapt out of the stacks to attack a younger, smaller, infinitely more fragile toddler, whose mother, my friend, promptly freaked out, making me feel sad for the author’s wife. The kid hadn’t really hurt anyone, and it was definitely my most memorable trip to the library ever. I’d seen her wandering the streets alone with him, waiting for him to outgrow that particular phase. That was a long while ago now. Last fall, when my daughter went for her first sleepover, her friend’s older brother invited a friend, too. It was the library attacker in a much calmer, happier, more mature form. He had the top bunk. By all accounts, it went well. I believe there were pancakes for everyone in the morning.
Sharpest: Cinoche Teloche ou Fardoche - "Vantage Point"
(also merits best integration of video)
Je n’étais pas allé au cinoche depuis au moins 7 jours alors je me suis dit allons donc voir une marde.
Mon choix s’est arrêté sur Vantage Point.
Vantage Point de Pete Travis est un film qui sous ses allures ambitieux et maitrisés n’est rien d’autre qu’un thriller mal foutu, très mal écrit et platement mis en scène.
Le problème avec les thrillers ou films policier américains de nos jours c’est que depuis la série 24, tout doit être rapide, bien orchestré et haletant. Le spectateur en demande toujours plus et souvent, comme c’est le cas ici, toute logique est laissée au vestiaire au dépend de pivots scénaristiques qui ne tiennent pas la route ou de rebondissements surprises stupides et inutiles. Comme si on se disait qu’en donnant au film un rythme effréné personne ne s’apercevra de l’incohérence de son ensemble.
1) Orbit gum (mint mojito, if I can help it)
2) Vitamin Water
Not only are we Canadians being deprived of two really delicious products, but now I also discover that the Vitamin Water website kicks our Canadian asses design-wise as well. The site is so bee-yoo-ti-ful, I wish I could make out with it.
Why aren't we producing websites like that?
Or commercials like these, for that matter:
Oh, Snoop, you're so wacky!
Hopefully, what the movie says about Parisian taxi drivers is not true. Brrr!
Isn't that why we love the concert-going experience? Being that close to a band that you love, feeling the music strumming your insides brings you closer to the music, closer to feeling like you are part of the band. It also makes you feel as if you are part of the sound, that people are listening to your noise and are inspired by what they hear.
Blogging is much the same phenomenon. The Internet is an integral part of life. We use it to work, we use it to communicate, we use it to make our lives easier. The Internet has also turned unknowns into cult icons and launched the already-famed into the stratosphere. The Internet is the ultimate rock band, and we want to be a part of it, so we blog. It draws us closer to the limelight, it makes us feel that we have something to say that may inspire others.
But of course, the problem is that - much like in a concert - we are just one of many. How to distinguish one's self? Is it even necessary to distinguish one's self? Perhaps the sound of all those voices, all that noise, mixing together is what makes it all sound so beautiful.
(Minus the ardent supporters of Mariah Carey of course)