Goodbye to Nora Ephron: A Guest Post

Nora Ephron, the beloved filmmaker and writer, passed away today.  My sister, Melanie, was a great fan of her work, and when she emailed me tonight about Ephron's death, I asked her to write something about Nora's importance in her own life.  This is what she wrote:

My chest literally aches as I write this but because my sister asked me to, and because Nora would say, "Everything is copy," I will lend you my thoughts...and my heart for a while.  Nora Ephron died this evening and I can't help but feel that a great light has been extinguished. She was known to the world as a brilliant screenwriter/director and humorist, but to me she was a teacher, fellow optimist, and literary role model. I know I write as though I knew her, but that's only because I feel as though I DID, and that she knew me too, the Reader, and could speak directly to my proverbial heart. I feel so sad to know that tomorrow morning when I awake to the red glow through my window and enjoy my first round of coffee, it will be in a somehow quieter world- a world without Nora's great charm.

My love affair with Nora's work began years ago with her romantic movies (When Harry met Sally, You've Got Mail, Sleepless in Seattle). I was born a bleeding heart so naturally, I was drawn to this genre. But there was always so much more in her films that made her art stand out to me. She ENJOYED life. She made much of the small things like flowers on a windowsill or a sad Joni Mitchell song and these nuances came out in her movies. She made her characters lovable and real and made romance seem as though anyone could experience it, even a late bloomer like me who wanted the fairy tale. And still do.

I went to see Nora perform last spring at the Paramount. It was called "An Evening with Nora Ephron" and what an evening it was! I am so happy that I paid the big money I did (on a teacher's salary) because it means so much more now that I know she's gone. Her talk was short and witty and she told us how when she was little and experienced heartache at school, her mother would look at her and say, "Nora, everything is copy." She told the audience that writing is what saved her and helped her in life.

I tell you this because her writing has helped me over the years. When I have been lonely or sad, annoyed or just in the mood for a laugh, I pick up my copy of I Feel Bad about my Neck and dig into one of her many anecdotes about life in New York, or raising children, or delicious savory items that disappeared from a menu overnight. I read her words and marvel at her talent because her gift to the world is to make light of this life and this is something I desperately need to learn. Not to take it for granted ever, but to enjoy the moments as they come, good or bad, insignificant or grand, romantic or not. 

  

There is so much more I could say but it's late and I'm a guest on here.  I just want to end by saying that even though I never knew Nora personally, I feel a real and personal loss. Her musings, her comedy, and her love for the beauty in life were not lost on me and I am forever grateful that she taught me how to relish the lovely that comes along, and how to laugh even when my heart is breaking. Farewell, Nora. You will be so greatly missed.

Art and Lit in the News

Today on "Morning Edition," I heard a story about this program.  I love the idea of free college classes open to anyone willing to enroll, and I'm seriously considering taking this poetry class in the fall, when both boys will be in school twice a week and I'll have more time to myself.  Because even Target gets boring after a while, and it's been too long since I've actively studied any poetry.  Wanna try it with me?

Tonight, I ran across this adorable short film and had to share it.  Take a few minutes (okay, more like twelve) to watch and enjoy it.  We've all been in her shoes and it will leave you smiling.

Lilyhammer

Aside from PBS Kids and Downton Abbey (which ended last night, sniff, sniff), I don't really watch much television over the air these days.  I like to watch an entire series on Netflix every so often, and I just finished the eight episode show, Lilyhammer, which was the first original series to debut on Netflix. 

While some reviews of the show were pretty mixed, I thoroughly enjoyed it and am holding my breath that they'll film a second season.  I admit to being a bit of a television snob, and I can tell pretty quickly into a show if I'm going to be able to stomach it.  I'm also a huge mafia movie fan (The Sopranos and Goodfellas rank high on my list), so Lilyhammer was right up my alley.

The premise of the show centers around Steven Van Zandt's character, a mafia guy who relocates to Lillehammer, Norway as part of the witness protection program after testifying against a rival boss.  If you've seen The Sopranos, then you know that Van Zandt played Silvio Dante, the strip club owner and advisor to Tony Soprano.  He's basically the same guy in Lilyhammer (spelled that way because that's how the character pronounces it), but with a bigger heart and lots of Nordic sweaters. 

Lilyhammer is actually filmed in Norway, so it utilizes local actors and subtitles.  The scenery is gorgeous and the Norwegian lifestyle, which in many ways is more relaxed and friendlier than our own, features heavily within the show.  It reminded me a bit of Northern Exposure, that quirky 1990s series set in Alaska, with all of the unusual characters and bizarre plots.  I won't reveal too much, but there is one episode involving both a male midwife and a neighborhood crime patrol group that is absolutely hilarious.  Not to mention the local policeman with way too much time on his hands and the job training counselor with an affinity for helping young immigrant women.

Lilyhammer is really a joy to watch, and I'm looking forward to a second season, hopefully sometime this year.

"Waylon and Big Bird and the Boys"

So I love Amy Winehouse, but I also love country music.  Especially classic country, like Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers, Waylon Jennings, and George Strait (I guess he's old enough to be classic now).  It reminds me of my childhood and those Saturday evenings when my dad would drive us to Dairy Queen in his blue truck, the windows down and music blaring all the way.  Sure, we lived in the suburbs, but as we drove down the road with open fields on each side, it felt like country to me.

Well, the other day after James' nap, my husband put on Follow that Bird, the old Sesame Street movie, that was streaming on Netflix.  James fell in love with Big Bird and his quest to return to Sesame Street after being sent to live with a foster family of Dodo birds.

At one point in his journey, Big Bird hitches a ride in a turkey truck, driven by none other than Waylon Jennings, and they sing this song.  After hearing it once, James was hooked, and we listen to it all the time now. "Look Mama," he told me, "it's my song."

I love sharing things with my boys, and I hope this will be a happy memory for James, too.

That Woman

With the recent popularity of The King's Speech, it seems that Wallace Simpson is in the news again.  I've always been a bit intrigued by the American woman who single-handedly disrupted the line of succession to the British throne, and two new books and a movie directed by Madonna attempt to explore her life more intently than the way she's been depicted for so long. 

As Anne Sebba, one of Simpson's biographers asks, "Why and how did a middle-aged woman, not conventionally beautiful, beyond childbearing years and with two living husbands win over a man so forcefully that he gave up not just a throne but an empire to live with her?"

I'm curious to find out.  Here's a recent article about Simpson and her newfound influence in popular culture.  

The King's Speech and So Firth

I'm so busy with my two little guys that I don't get out to the movies much, or at all really, but I am excited to see The King's Speech with Colin Firth eventually.  It's supposed to be amazing and Firth is nominated for an Oscar for his performance of George VI of England. 

Now, I don't subscribe to the belief that Firth is particularly attractive (sorry, ladies!) and I've never understood the preoccupation with Jane Austen's Mr. Darcy, or Firth's portrayal of him.  Darcy was an egocentric jerk, if you ask me, and his only real attraction was his money and his property.  But that's a story for another day.

I do, however, think that Colin Firth is an incredible actor and truly gifted, and I recently watched A Single Man, the directorial debut of fashion designer Tom Ford (who is really handsome and was born in Austin), starring Firth as a closeted gay professor mourning the tragic death of his partner.  It was beautifully written and directed and, in true Ford manner, every aspect of the piece was styled to perfection.  Firth was nominated for that role last year, as well.  Maybe this year he'll finally win. 

Anyway, though I haven't seen this year's movie about King George VI's valiant efforts to conquer his shortcomings while leading England through World War II, I did finally watch the Masterpiece Theatre version from 2002, called Bertie & Elizabeth.  This version focuses upon the loving marriage of the king and his wife, England's beloved Queen Mum, and their willingness to accept the throne after his older brother famously abdicated to marry Wallis Simpson, a divorced American woman. 

Bertie, as King George was known, struggled with an embarrassing stutter for most of his life, and through the support of his wife and the help of a speech therapist, he was able to overcome it.  I'm guessing that's the premise of Firth's movie, too, and from the previews I've seen, some of the scenes are incredibly similar to the Masterpiece version.

The story is so romantic and unique that audiences can't help but fall in love with the characters, and the fact that it's based on actual events in the lives of the parents of the current Queen of England makes it all the more appealing.  I can't wait to watch and I'll be cheering for Colin Firth at the Oscars.

Winter Light

Like a lot of people, I feel that sense of letdown that descends in January, once the holidays are over and things return again to "normal."  The days are still short and the weather is cold, so it's easy to feel a bit of sadness once the decorations have been put away and everyone goes back to work.

When I taught middle school, I remember my principal telling us that February is the point of lowest morale among teachers, mostly because it's that dark spot on the calendar when there aren't many holidays or events to look forward to, and testing is fast approaching. I definitely felt it my first year of teaching, especially since it was only months after that fateful day in September 2001, and I was on my own in a different city for the very first time.

Once I was married and attending graduate school, I loved the gap between the end of the holidays and the beginning of the new semester.  The gift of those few extra weeks meant time to relax and adjust to things slowly, which is the way I like to function.

Now that I'm a stay-at-home mom, I find my moods more affected by the weather and seasons.  When it's cold, raining, or getting dark early, it means we're stuck inside for another day, so I have to get creative and find fun things for my toddler to do.  Luckily, the Texas weather isn't too harsh in the winter, so we can still take daily walks and play outside most days.

I also like to leave a few winter decorations up through the month of January, both to remind me of the holidays and to celebrate the winter months.  I have several small trees on my mantle that are sparsely decorated and I also leave a few sparkly snowflakes lying around, since they don't scream "Christmas decor."

And since we've moved our youngest son to his own room, I'm once again able to enjoy my favorite luxury of reading in bed.  It might not sound like much, but it's something I had to give up twice in two years, both in those last few months of pregnancy when it's impossible to find a comfortable position at all, and then once each baby arrived and slept next to me in his crib.  I loved that special time sleeping beside my small boys, but I'm happy to have my favorite nighttime routine back again.  Currently, I'm reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, which will, I'm certain, deserve its own blog entry in the future.

One more thing I'm really anticipating is the upcoming miniseries, Downton Abbey, on PBS.  I'm a sucker for period pieces, and there's nothing better than a series that runs for four (yes, four!) Sundays in a row, all throughout January.

So it's the little things that keep me upbeat during this downtime, as I wait for the days to grow longer and the sun to shine a little brighter.

ROT Rally 2010

This weekend is the infamous Republic of Texas Rally in Austin, and apparently, Sarah Jessica Parker, fresh off her Sex and the City II debut, decided to make an appearance.

And just for the record, I personally could never ride you-know-what behind my leather-clad husband on a motorcycle. I'm afraid my butt would look big.

Lovely Jules

My husband gave me a subscription to Netflix for Christmas, and my first movie arrived today. I was eager to see Julie and Julia, though I thought it might not live up to my expectations, only because everyone has raved about it for months (so watching it seemed a bit anticlimactic) and we all know that I am not a foodie. Still, I really enjoyed the parallels between the lives of the two main characters, the amazing period clothing and sets of the 1940s and 50s, and the struggles with writing that both women faced. I told my husband that I will never cook a Julia Child recipe, but being the great cook that he is, he is welcome to try one anytime.

Babycakes' bath and bedtime routine temporarily interrupted the film, and while I was picking up toys and refilling the humidifier, I was overcome with the thought that I am doing exactly what I have wanted to do for so long. Unlike Julie and Julia, I haven't really struggled with my identity and sense of self, and this was a happy realization to come to tonight.

When the movie was finished, we watched the vignette that accompanies the film on the DVD, and it was interesting to hear from Nora Ephron, the director. At the very end of the short piece, she mentions that she hopes the movie will inspire people, especially women, to find something in life that they love doing, and I smiled to myself, knowing that I am already doing it.

Now, I'm off to bed with a good book and a dab of Jo Malone. And, by the way, I predict an Oscar for Meryl Streep this season.

It's a Small World After All

I just ran across the trailer for the new documentary Babies: The Movie, and it is so precious. The film follows the first year in the lives of four babies in Japan, Mongolia, Namibia, and the United States. I love documentaries, and this one looks especially fun and interesting.

Madonn'!!

There's a rumor currently circulating that a movie might be in the works for the cast of The Sopranos. Apparently, the manager of Satin Dolls strip club, which became the setting for the infamous Bada Bing, is holding off on a planned renovation after receiving a tip about the movie. While he won't reveal the tipster, he is waiting a few months to see if the information pans out. I want to know what kind of "manager" gets to make executive decisions like that? Maybe he's got his own ties to a certain "family business," if you know what I mean.

Not that I mind, of course. I think The Sopranos is quite possibly the very best show in the history of television, and I've entertained fantasies of becoming a Mafia princess every now and then. I can just see myself say I need money for shopping, my husband asks how much, and I reply by holding my finger and thumb about three inches apart, a la Lorraine Bracco in Goodfellas (who went on to become Dr. Melfi, Tony Soprano's psychiatrist).

After all, it took over five years for a Sex in the City movie to come to fruition, so I'm holding out hope that it will happen eventually. And when it does, I will watch with bated breath, along with a million other fans, to see what our boy Tony and his gang are up to next.

The Academy Awards

I always say that the Oscars are my Super Bowl, and I love the drama and politics that define this night of a thousand stars. So, my first question for the day-after examination is, "Where were they?" I mean, I know the writer's strike just barely ended, but did everybody stay away as a sign of respect? It's pretty bad when you have to whip out The Rock and Miley Cyrus to present awards, but I was impressed that Dwayne Johnson (or whatever his name is) could actually read. And Barbara Walters only interviewed one nominee, the lovely Ellen Page. As much as I love Vanessa Williams on Ugly Betty, I was hoping for a more Oscar-appropriate lineup. And don't get me started on Harrison Ford. Barbara asked if he felt "underrated" as an actor, when, in truth, he is completely and utterly overrated, in my humble opinion. Nice earring, Harrison.

The awards got off to a roaring start with Regis Philbin hosting the Pre-Oscar Red Carpet Show. Where was Ryan Seacrest this year? All the stars seemed to be humoring Regis with his silly questions and comments. And did you see George Clooney's date trying not to stare at Regis's tan? It looked like he might start dripping streaks of orange any second. I was especially horrified when, after running into the theater from backstage, Regis pointed out Best Supporting Actor nominee Javier Bardem, and called him "Xavier." I hope Bardem's poor mother didn't hear that!

Jon Stewart did a pretty good job as host, don't you think? He's no Billy Crystal, but he seemed funnier this time around. I liked his war jokes and the one about Obama and Gaydolf Titler. Stewart did call Once star Glen Hansard "arrogant" after the musician gave his acceptance speech, and though it was meant to be ironic, it seemed downright mean to me. He redeemed himself shortly after by allowing Marketa Irglova to return to the stage for her turn, after she was cut off by the music.

Of all the presenters, Katherine Heigl really stands out, but not in a good way. She made some shaky little comment about forgiving her for being so nervous, since she's not very good at this sort of thing. Oh, please! Look, just because you're on Grey's Anatomy, had a hit movie, and did a cover for Vanity Fair, don't think you can step on stage and steal the spotlight. You're not winning an award, honey, just handing one out, so smile, read the prompter, and open the damn envelope! Miley Cyrus makes you look like an amateur.

By far, my favorite moments included Diablo Cody's win for Best Original Screenplay for Juno, over which I have previously gushed. This pretty much sealed the deal and ended the possibility of the film winning any other awards, but Cody looked lovely (what beautiful skin!) and she truly is an original. I was just thrilled that the film was recognized for what it is, a "sincere, honest, genuine" piece about growing up, to quote Ellen Page from her interview with Barbara Walters.

I was also thrilled for Once stars and musicians, Marketa Irglova and Glen Hansard. They beat out three songs from a Disney princess movie and that weird one with Keri Russell where she thinks her son is dead (but he's really just a homeless kid musician) or something sick like that. The odds were stacked against them, but they won for Best Song, and if you haven't yet seen Once, I highly recommend it! (In all fairness, that 11-year-old soloist from August Rush is amazing!)

I have to say I was thrilled that Atonement didn't win, isn't that awful? You know how I feel about it ("Come back to me!"), and though I have yet to see No Country For Old Men, I do love the Coen brothers. I also love it when Best Director and Best Picture actually match up. I mean, how can they not? Like that year when Ang Lee won for Brokeback Mountain, but they gave Best Picture to Crash? How can you be the best director of a movie that is not the best film? At least this year, all is right with the world.

And then there's Daniel Day-Lewis. I have loved him ever since The Last of the Mohicans. He is truly a serious actor devoted to his craft, but not in the arrogant "I take myself so seriously that I fly to Iraq to have a look around" way of some, like specifically, Sean Penn. Day-Lewis is elegant and refined, and his speech was eloquent and genuine.

And finally, I must comment on the many montages used last night. I have to say that I really liked them for the most part (aside from the binocular and dream sequences), and it was so much better than when they used to bring out former winners from all the way back, and then announce each and every single one of them. The montages were quick and touching, without being overly dramatic. And best of all, I was fast asleep before 11 last night!

Now, if only Cameron Diaz could learn to pronounce "cinematography."

My thoughts on Juno

I meant to comment on Juno's Academy Award nomination for Best Picture the other day, but I've had more pressing things to write about. I saw the film in a hormone-induced stupor two days before Christmas, and I cried through the entire thing.

Let me just say that, despite the sensitive subject matter, Juno is the perfect companion piece to Napoleon Dynamite, and almost as witty and precise. I've taught girls like Juno before, girls who are still figuring things out for themselves, and I was impressed with the main character's growth as the film progresses.

Since the nominations were announced, a ton of criticism has emerged condemning Juno for making light of something as serious as teenage pregnancy. But I have to disagree. Sure, Juno is just a movie, but it addresses the topic in an original way that falls far from the typical After School Special treatment usually reserved for this subject matter. And it really shouldn't be compared to Knocked Up, either, which does makes light of an unplanned pregnancy between two slacker adults. (I know Katherine Heigl's character is supposed to be successful, so why is she living in her sister's pool house?)

Juno tackles the complexities of teenage awkwardness we all endured, and transforms the title character throughout the course of her pregnancy and her unwavering decision to give her child up for adoption. Not only does Juno find and contact the adoptive parents herself, she moves forward with the plans as the couple's marriage crumbles before her eyes. Juno may not know "what kind of girl" she is, but she understands a woman's desire to become a mother, whatever the cost may be.

In the film's most touching scene, which critics seem to ignore or forget, Juno refuses to hold her child after his birth. The viewer sees the adoptive mother, full of fear and excitement, attempt to hold her new son, while Juno lies sobbing in her bed, mourning the child she has given up. In that instant, Juno's life is forever changed, as is the new mother's, and the film successfully conveys this transformation. And yes, Juno moves forward, as any girl should; but, for me, this scene seals the deal, and the smart-mouthed, slurpee-drinking teenager is replaced by a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. And that's how it should be.

For another take on the movie (which nicely parallels my earlier post on Roe vs. Wade) , read this New York Times piece by Caitlin Flanagan:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/13/opinion/13flanagan.html?_r=1&em&ex=1200373200&en=3e81b71decfda76e&ei=5087%0A&oref=slogin

On the death of Heath Ledger

I was saddened to hear of Heath Ledger's death yesterday. I haven't seen many of his movies and I don't know much about him, but I have been in love with Brokeback Mountain since I read the short story by Annie Proulx. If you haven't seen it, forget the controversy and watch the movie for its beauty (and I'm not just talking about Jake Gyllenhaal).

Though all the actors did an amazing job, Ledger's role as the stoic Ennis Del Mar was, by far, the most stunning. He perfectly captures Proulx's description of the young farm hand just struggling to get by in life, in contrast to the more lovable and demonstrative Jack Twist, played by Gyllenhaal. For me, Ledger's character, and his desperation, is incredibly heartfelt. In one memorable scene, the two men part after their first summer on the mountain, and Del Mar walks away from Twist, pretending not to care. As he turns a corner, we seem him enter a small alleyway and burst into sobs for a single moment, before continuing on his way.

This display of raw emotion by Ledger's character is evident again at the film's end in the final scene with his daughter. By this point, Del Mar has forever lost his close friend and lover, and appears settled into a life of quiet loneliness. When his teenage daughter visits to announce her engagement, he encourages her to find her own happiness and love in the world. After she leaves, the viewer sees Del Mar's simple shrine to his friend and, as described in the story, the two shirts once worn by both men, now hanging together, one inside the other, on a hanger in his closet.

Ledger's portrayal of Ennis Del Mar is incredibly precise in a quiet way. I'm sure we've all met people like that, with a stiff outer shell that masks the truth underneath. For me, Ledger's character sets the mood of the entire film and helps shape the love that is so evident throughout.

And that's how I'll remember him.

Rico at the Ritz

I'm a huge fan of Napoleon Dynamite, the 2004 movie directed by Jared Hess that launched the career of Jon Heder. I think it's unbelievably original, hilariously funny, and perfectly captures the realities of teenage angst and awkwardness. In fact, I think the film can be used to judge a person's character, and if you didn't like the movie, "I wish you would just get out of my life and shut up."

Anyway, Jon Gries, who played Napoleon's "Uncle Rico," made an appearance at Alamo Drafthouse before the movie started last night. He graciously answered a few questions and put to rest the rumor that he is a vegetarian, thus squelching the much-circulated explanation for why Rico can be seen spitting out his steak into a napkin, seconds before pelting Napoleon with Kip's steak. It turns out that the steak was simply "horrid." Gries also mentioned that the clothes Rico wore were indeed real, polyester, and came from Salt Lake City. That explains so much! And remember the scene where Rico and Kip have badges made to look "official" as they peddle their plastic bowls? Well, there was a fly buzzing around the set, and it flew by Rico in time for him to react in a funny way, so the footage was kept.

Overall, I was a little disappointed that Gries didn't stay for very long. He had another engagement in the theater across the hall, where some viewers paid $60 a pop (Lucky!) to enjoy a feast of Tina Quesadillas, Delicious Bass, Onion Soup, and Steak Facials. Those of us in the cheap seats did get little baggies of tater tots, perfectly timed to be passed out as the "Gimme all your tots!" scene appeared on screen. It was fun to see the movie again, especially at the Ritz, the new location for the Drafthouse downtown.

On a side note, as we waited to enter the theater, a huge crowd of what can only be described as the most awkward and nerdy-looking adults I've ever encountered in my life (and I've been to a Linux conference with my husband before) poured out of the auditorium, along with the overwhelming scent of movie popcorn. Shortly after that, we learned that they were astrophysicists in town for a conference, and they'd been treated to a screening of Real Genius, complete with a deluge of popcorn that filled the theater.

Only in Austin!

Movies

I totally admit it. I'm a snob when it comes to movies. There are simply some films I cannot allow myself to watch. If it's a blockbuster with lots of explosions, a prequel, sequel, or one in a series of children's books, you won't catch me near it. I can't even stay in the room while the DVD is playing, and if I do, I get shushed for making snide comments that are much more entertaining than the actual dialogue. In my opinion, at least. And don't get me started on wizards, light sabers, and short, furry-footed creatures who eat two breakfasts. I just don't get it. In fact, the only thing I get is nauseous.

I can, however, speak seriously about some films, and I saw several over the Christmas holidays. My parents rented The Painted Veil, based on the novel by W. Somerset Maugham, and starring Naomi Watts and Edward Norton. While I haven't read the book (I know!), I did really enjoy the movie. It's nothing particularly romantic or stand-out, but the cinematography is beautiful and the story is touching. I'm reading Nancy Mitford at the moment, so I'm all about rich girls in England looking for love, and The Painted Veil was right up my alley. Throw in a sordid love affair, an outbreak of cholera, and the exotic setting of the Chinese countryside, and you've got yourself a pretty good movie for a night spent at home.

Earlier this week, I finally got my hands on The Namesake, based on the novel by Jhumpa Lahiri. I haven't read the book yet (notice the yet!), but the movie is excellent. There was the minor fact that I couldn't figure out how to cue the subtitles on the screen, so I watched the entire film without them; but honestly, the movie is so well done that I didn't even need the subtitles. I strongly recommend this movie to everyone. It follows the life of an Indian couple as they move to the United States and raise a family. Their children are completely westernized, and the title refers to the son's journey as he learns the significance of his name. I plan to watch it again this weekend, with the subtitles on, for the full effect.

Then today, a friend and I saw Atonement with Keira Knightley and James McAvoy, based on the novel by Ian McEwan (I have so much homework to do!). I've heard nothing but rave reviews about this film, and the previews looked amazing, but I must say that I was really disappointed, especially after all the hype. I'm hoping the book is much more appealing (I'm guessing it is, based upon the people I saw crying in the theater who obviously read it), but the film certainly didn't touch my inner being at all. The movie is extremely long and beautifully filmed, but it does little to make the viewer care about the main characters or their love affair. In fact, I got really tired of staring at Knightley's sharp, anorexia-induced shoulder blades and the same vacant look she wears in the Chanel ad and commercial. If you've seen the commercial, you've basically seen the movie. I also had a hard time understanding some of her dialogue, and wished for a remote to rewind the film at certain points along the way.

Don't get me wrong. Keira Knightley is stunningly beautiful and talented, and I'm sure she makes an excellent swashbuckler, though I don't know personally (see above). But somebody needs to feed the girl a hamburger or two so she can have the strength to speak clearly again. In the movie, Knightley's character begs McAvoy to "come back, come back to me," over and over again, even using the lines to calm him down when he is in the midst of a furious rage. My friend and I couldn't help but laugh at this, and I had an image in my sick mind of him complaining about taking out the trash, and Knightley's tragic face begging, "come back, come back to me." I definitely think I need to read the book to fully appreciate the movie, and I'm sure I'll like its pre-World War II in England setting. Not to mention the rich girl looking for love. "Come back, come back to me!"