Vanity Fair

I've not read the book in a long time, but I will say those who have read it more recently and love it for what it is wil probably be annoyed by a variety of things in this film.

That said, it is an astounding, gorgeous, and very flawed piece of cinema, that you expect to assault you but instead just sort of creeps away at you. I found I liked it well enough during, and only felt overwhelmed when it was over -- not for the ending or anything else really, but the sum total of what we endure with the characters is remarkable.

Reese Witherspoon is good in the role, but as has oft been mentioned she feels too modern. It's hard to entirely put a finger on why, although it's something akin to why Keira Knightly is at times one of the more absurd distractions in King Arthur -- a very posh, modern voice. Also this Becky has been gentled enough that when she's bad you actually stop to be dissappointed in her, which is a bit odd.

Jonathan Rhys Myers is, as ever, an unpleasant predatory self-absorbed cat-like thing. It's so predictable a bit of casting for him though, it's almost annoying, until he has one moment of such callousness that the wind gets knocked out of you.

The actor who walks away with the film though is James Purefoy. Where the rest of the cast seems to be striving gamely to keep up with the costumes and the scenery and to act through the stiffled manner of the time-period, he's just so physically alive on screen -- and I've seen him in other period pieces, and that was never there before. Really... not work that looks difficult, but the result is so astounding, it clearly is. Wonderful wonderful wonderful. (also, the one love scene is so honest and joyful it took me aback. Lovely stuff). Side note... he's a good rider, but every time he was on the damn horse I was like "get your toes in!" -- see what this shit is doing to me?

Gabriel Byrne is also an amazing menacing presence in this film and is one of the many constant specters of death over the thing. There's a visual device involving Becky's travelling trunk that makes it clear from our first view of it, that she's dragging about like her own coffin.

Nair is an astounding director, who asks us to play along in a way that I'm not sure is viable or consistantly bold enough to make us want to step up. But what a force to be reckoned with. She's been given a lot of criticsm for finding a way to put her hertiage into this film, but I think it works and s useful in the scope it provides for the scale of British ambitions of the time.

My audience was irritating, but interesting -- people talked through the film a lot -- mostly women, who were angry and uncomfortable. Men, many more of whom were in attendence than I would have suspected, laughed in some inappropriate places, but mostly seemed taken aback to find themselves nodding along with the film's worldview.

Excellent score, but the music I love from the trailer isn't in the film! So now I have to figure out what the music in the trailer is.

The costumes are amazing, and it occured to me in noticing the details of the men's costumes (an aside, I've scored the coat from my parents, so if it's as I remember, I'm in business... my father is only quasi-amused) that so much of modern clothing annoys me because it seems to be a pale imitation done in memory of something grander. How boring. At least celebrate something grander would you? But I love all those high collars and scarves wrapped around men's throats. I could wax poetic on the thought of unwinding such a thing at a length that would embarass me more than I could possibly describe. Anyway....

I need to see it again. Interesting interesting thing.

Lots of great previews including the Huckabees thing (dude, Jude Law is in 6! movies coming out between now and the end of the year), The Life Aquatic, and Stage Beauty. It's going to be a busy fall at the theater for me.

Ultimate verdict on Vanity Fair: This movie is 100% why I am doing what I am doing right now, in the simplest of ways. It's pure beauty, and there is nothing in my nature that knows how to not wish to be a part of such a thing.

Finally, the film is ultimately about the differences between internal and external ambition which I thought was particularly interesting in this city of would-be conquerers who mostly cannot be bothered to leave petty adolesence behind.

Beslan

I was asked to write about Beslan in response to a recent post, and regardless of my ability or inclination to do so, it seems rude of me not to acknowledge that.

Because most of the media analysis work I do at the day job involves a slight delay, I've only read about Beslan to the degree that I've read the news on my own time (which is something I do much less than I used to, for obvious reasons). That said, it went from being a hostage situation, to a NYTimes headline that seemed to indicate there were maybe a dozen deaths and it was all going to be okay to the news I read after I got home from VF last night, which is that over 200 have died.

It is, of course, incomprehensible, as it is not the sort of event that happens here, although I am somewhat put in mind of all the airline hijackings of my childhood, and the spector of that particular fear, because if you had an American passport, that would kill you.

What the request does put me in mind of though, and what I can write about to great effect and with some vague relevance is the equation of fatalities and regions that equal headlines.

Certainly, many people will remember this exchange from West Wing:
Jed: "Why is a Kudanese life worth less to me than an American life?"
Will: "I don't know, sir, but it is."

And that's a grim truth in both news and politics, at least here in the US. CJR runs numbers on it sometimes, but I've not seen any in years. But the basic premise is that it takes exponentially more deaths in a place like South America or Africa for Americans to care what is happening there. The numbers also differ across Europe, but more minimally, and the graph of them shows an obvious relationship to language, race and money, with aberation coming from things the news likes -- such as kids, animals, scary diseases and freakish accidents.

At any rate, I may well write about Beslan in the coming days, when I've a better understanding of the political forces surrounding the specific way the events unfolded (why are the Russians so inept in hostage situations? Although doesn't dealing with these situations well guarantee loss of life because one must be cold?).

Those wishing to donate to survivors in Beslan should go here: http://www.moscowhelp.org/
Link courtesy of lilchiva

the transparent world

I went to B&N today toget the third HH book and the Vanity Fair soundtrack, and they have new shopping bags now that are clear.

I wasn't really thrilled about tis, because people can see what you purchase and I'd be a happier person if people on the bus could have one less remotely legitimate reason to speak with me. And then I wondered if the origin of this idea was design principal, theft prevention, or convenience in the age of terrorism.

In other news, I hate all my icons and my skin is really itchy.

the glory of my self-indulgent evening

I made myself a lovely dinner, and then sat down with it, an HH book, and the Vanity Fair soundtrack on the stereo. Utter fucking perfection.

I should note that the Vanity Fair soundtrack is actually more arresting out of context with the film. It's simply gorgeous and often more joyful than it has any right to be. And while it's sometimes an effort to supress my romantic nature, I am absolutely a person who values my freedom above all else, and yet this is the sort of music that makes me want to be swept off my feet by a dashing boy so that I might be a loyal wife. It's quite absurd.

Once I clear my head a bit, major gear switch -- Lost in Translation.

Oh yeah, and I bought a fabulous pair of boots today. It needs to be fall right now.