the girl does what she wants to do

Last month (bad blogger!) I popped over to the Film Forum in the midst of the three-week limited run opening of Bill Cunningham New York. I had been dying to see the documentary for months, and I snagged a ticket for the one o’clock, minutes before showtime. The theater was packed, but I squeezed into an empty center seat in my favorite row (row 8), between an elderly couple dressed in their Sunday best, silently staring straight ahead, and an older woman filling out the Sunday Times crossword. “This is so New York!” I thought to myself, smiling that one day I might be an older woman, going to movies alone in New York City. The four of us stayed like that until the lights went down—the couple staring straight ahead not speaking, the woman contemplating her crossword puzzle, me trying not to fidget in my seat—all crammed together but no one acknowledging anyone, never alone but always on your own. 

And then my internal tug-of-war with this city snapped on. 

Sometimes the detachment in New York gets to me. It’s something I hate (I’m big on community) and love (anonymity can be lovely, and, at heart, I am an introvert) about this city. And every once in a while, when I’m feeling extra frustrated, I get fed up with the people here, and it seems like the city’s 9 million inhabitants are all over-ambitious, do-anything-to-get-ahead, out for themselves. Sometimes I feel like New York has turned me into an overaggressive, overly defensive person who constantly has to be thinking of my next step, in fear that if I don’t evolve I’ll be trampled over and left behind. 

All these New York emotions before the film about Bill Cunningham, a New York institution if ever there was one, flicked on. As the documentary unfolded, I learned, that just like most people, Bill Cunningham was nothing what I expected. Until he was recently evicted, he slept on a cot held up by crates. He didn’t have a private kitchen or bathroom in his unit. And at 82 years old, he thinks nothing of biking the length of Manhattan, sometimes multiple times a day. Although he interacts with some of the most powerful people in fashion (as one fashion PR person exclaimed wildly, “He’s the most important person in the world!”), his daily uniform consists of a $20 street sweeper’s smock, which he duct tapes together when it tears.

More than anything, Bill Cunningham is a man of integrity, a religious person, and someone who genuinely loves people, a trait I truly admire. He reminded me so much of my grandma, my personal role model, that I balled through nearly the entire movie. Towards the end, Cunningham speaks the most heart-hitting, never-been-truer words: “I just try to play a straight game and in New York that’s very…almost impossible. To be honest and straight in New York… that’s like Don Quixote fighting windmills.”

Immediately I was inspired, ready to continue on fighting the good fight in this crazy city I love and call home. 

When I exited the theater onto Downing, a line of eclectic people stretched down the street. A sign proclaimed the next several showtimes were sold out. What funny fate that I missed the assumed line for my showing and squeaked right in. Little did I know when I entered the theater just how much I needed that dose of positivity, and proof that good people are always all around you—and that it’s possible to be a good person, too—even in a crazy city like New York.

Please go see this movie. 

I’ve been so swamped lately and will not have time for any sort of lengthy Oscar analysis this year. But I will say this: I saw Crazy Heart last weekend and I think it is one of the best films of 2009, if not the. I laughed, I cried, the cast is perfect, and I’ve been listening to the soundtrack for a week straight. That this movie was almost made without the music shocks me. I don’t understand why it wasn’t nominated for a Best Picture. There are 10 this year, for crying out loud.

The only category I’m passionate about this year is Best Actor. Totally conflicted if Jeff Bridges or Colin Firth should win. All I know is George Clooney basically playing himself, should not (Director Jason Reitman said it best, jokingly, “You actors mean the world to me. Particularly you, George, for being so brave to take on a role that is so different from who you are, to simply disappear in this character who doesn’t want to settle down, is a great honor.”)

Hilariously, I’ve only seen two (Up and the Hangover) of 2009’s 10 highest grossing films. And with that, the year’s best movies in my opinion are (click through for commentary):

1. Crazy Heart
2. Anvil! The Story of Anvil
3. Up
4. A Single Man
5. Inglorious Bastards

And my five runner-ups (if we’re all going to pick 10 films this year):

• Adam
• Broken Embraces
• The Class
• An Education
• Every Little Step

If a film is pretty, does that make up for a lack of brains? I saw Nine a few weeks ago, determined not to be swayed by the negative feedback. For maximum enjoyment, I even forwent using my AMC gift card (thanks, Mom!) to see it in New York’s grande dame one room movie house, the Ziegfeld. Unfortunately, yes, the movie does have its problems. But it was GORGEOUS! More than anything, it felt like paging through a beautiful Vogue fashion spread. Loved Marion and Penelope, obvi, but surprisingly Kate Hudson had my favorite musical performance.

I think the movie would have worked better had Daniel Day-Lewis’ character only been portrayed through the eyes of each woman, and how he affected her. This was obviously a central theme, but it got way too sloppy with the whole distraught artist thing. Had it focused on each woman’s perception of him (and although he was great in this film, I found his musical numbers painful), the choppy, vignette style would have worked better. Bottom line: I didn’t hate it, but it isn’t the new Moulin Rouge. Regardless, I’m still planning on buying the soundtrack.

A Single Man was another treat I’ve been anticipating for quite awhile; Colin Firth + Tom Ford, how can you go wrong? The movie drags along, but really makes you feel Firth’s misery. And the art direction, wowza! The use of color and speed are spot on; the costume (yum, yum, YUM!) and set design had me gasping (sorry couple sitting next to me). Firth definitely deserves the Oscar nod he received earlier today; this is by far his best role yet. I thought Julianne Moore was also beyond brilliant, and would have liked to see more of her.

Bonus: I’ve always wondered how that awkward kid from About A Boy would turn out. Surprisingly he’s in this film, all grown up and looking good. So good, in fact, that I had to confirm my identity suspicions on imdb immediately after the movie ended. Congrats, kid.

Was Julia Roberts drunk on the red carpet? Was Taylor Lautner wearing a leather tux? Yeah Glee! James Cameron: what’s going on there? Ricky Gervais made me “scream laugh” once. Could Sandra Bullock’s husband show any emotion? Joseph Gordon Levitt: still my #1 celebrity crush. And it would not be possible to love Meryl Streep more than I do.

Broken Embraces is not only great eye candy for anyone with a massive (girl) crush on Penelope Cruz, but it’s a fantastic film. At times predictable, but beautiful nonetheless.

Loved this montage.