The Da Vinci Code

I've resisted the temptation of reading the book for as long as I could, despite my penchant for conspiracy theories, but I finally gave in when I found a printed/pirated (on a printer not at a typograph) copy my dad gave to my mom for her birthday, which she never read (he is the king of uninspired presents, with a monkey statue carved out of a coconut and a goblen to his record). A book liked by that many people can't be that good. But it was engaging to say the least. I was on my toes until the last page. The dialogue was not brilliant or some deep metaphysics involved, but the historical references and the research were done well enough to make you think there is a possibility of truth involved. After all, we all like to chase our own Holy Grails at one point.
But the film was a fairly cheesy mess. A visibly older Hanks (and the haircut did him no favours, although he is supposed to look like a professor) plays a bemused Robert Langdon that doesn't get a chance to get more than tri-dimensional at best (specialist in symbolism, claustrophobe, American) and it's not his fault cause he usually delivers. The lovely Audrey Tautou (with which many people told me I look like)that never really falters by me because she's as cute as a button gets the part of Sophie Neveu, the sharp French cryptologist that turns out to hold the key to one of the best kept secrets of Christianity. Jean Reno is the French inspector that is supposed to look and behave like an enraged bull, but he merely manages an agitated poodle. At least he doesn't have to bother much with English in this movie. Maybe I am just so used to him in American movies, I need to hear him speaking with an accent.
For those of you who slept in a igloo for the past three years, until the ice started melting polar cap, the story goes like that. Old curator at Louvre is murdered by uber creepy albino monk (Paul Bettany as hot as ever), same night famous Harvard symbolism professor (but of course, no one has ever heard of a Bowdoin prof) is supposed to meet said curator for a drink and is picked up by French police from a middle of a book signing and taken to murder scene where dead man had scribbled a few anagrams and symbols (Fibonacci blabla). Hot French officer arrives at the scene and warns American he is in great danger of being arrested as sole suspect, thus they both establish a route of escape from the bowels of Louvre, but not before quickly spurting out the solutions to the quizes. A whole set of theories about the Knights Templar and Priory of Sion are set in motion, just like the heroine's Smart car on the streets of Paris. The French secret police ("like the French FBI" according to Reno's character) is always strangely two steps behind the fugitives who try to discover the true killer from the speed of a car chase(and I mean strangely because we all know that French services are not among the country's fortes, not even the secret police whom I envision being more concerned with their glass of Kir or their cafe than with two scared suspects). Many subplots and riddles are scraped from the script, yet the fact mysteriously fails to tighten the action or to make it upbeatly believable. The lines fall flat on the ground like the poisoned butler(Oooops, I gave it away!) and even Tom Hanks looks uncomfortable in the frame, like he's ready to lie about having forgot his glasses and run for the trailer. Tautou tries her best to be professional, emotional and cute in English and she builds a semi-solid semi-sweet Sophie. But there's no chemistry, and you can tell at the end, which they changed (why?), when Robert kisses her chastely on the forehead (like a father, American public can't really stomach him in a romantic lead anymore?).
Ian McKellan is fantastic as an eccentric Englishman obsessed to the brim with the legends of the Holy Grail. He's the only one who looks like he enjoys being there and acting the hell out of it. Plus he has a hot butler...
Great locations, almost 80's feel of adventure camp.
Ron Howard, what happened? Are you trying to keep a secret? Please don't tell me it's a sequel.

Golden Globe Nominations

Aaaaaaaaaand we're in!!! "4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days" is nominated for Best Foreign Language Film category! And from what I hear the news has not moved a hair on the journos' heads back home. Apparently it was like the 20th item on the evening newscast after a stabbing, some rapes and some fires. How quaint! Let the rest of the stabbings begin!(the back kind)

Also "Atonement" is leading the way. What did I tell you? Well, nothing, but I did say it's really really good. And James McAvoy, whom I have not praised enough, got a nomination. When will we do an interview, James? You seem quite sensible, just like Keira, whose pout I'd take any hour of the day over those overpaid cokeheads.

My girl Helena Bonham Carter got a nom and Johnny boy. Can't wait to see "Sweeney Todd!" I always get an internal vertigo when I watch Tim Burton films.

Oh, I am curious what will become of these Awards with the writers still being on strike...I am sure someone somewhere will ad lib smth witty!

The Way I Spent the End of the World

Finally a Romanian film after which I did not feel like cutting my wrists. Even comedies lobotomize my joie de vivre with a dubious surgical precision!
This one is about Eva, a 17-ish year old girl from a poor part of the town I suspect who gets kicked out of the good high school because she refuses to defend herself about doing something her boyfriend had done out of sheer stupidity (creaking a bust of the beloved Communist leader Ceausescu with his karate moves while trying to get her to sleep with him). Her boyfriend Alexandru's father is well known and feared within the community as working for the secret police and manages to get him cleared out. Thus Eva's unwillingness to straighten the facts takes her to the professional highschool where she forges a friendship with another outcast, Andrei, a boy whose parents are surveilled by militia constantly for "plotting" against the Communist Party. Together they plan to escape the country by crossing the Danube from a sort of youthful exuberance, I'd think, not a proper reasoning. The sexual awakening that started with Alex (a viciously handsome boy) continues with Andrei (boredering on tallest-man syndrome ugly, although eerily enough he reflects a lot of the heroine's features) through their silly training in an icy bathtub or with empty gas tanks in the lake.
The other important relashionship in Eva's life is the one with her little brother, a charming devil, whom she practically has to raise as their parents work long unforgiving hours - not clear what and why. Throughout the entire film he voices the dissent of the people towards the great leaders of the country - he doesn't know exactly why but he feels everyone's tension on the topic and occasionally bursts the inapropriate comment. His big plan is to sing in front of Ceausescu and kill him, thus becoming the hero of the nation.
Cringe-worthy moments: when the commuters' bus has no space to do a U-turn in the country dirt road and practically pushes the pedestrians into the bushes completing the humiliation of their life, job, status etc. The uptight blond music teacher that was keen on getting the children to be quiet and sing the hymn. She looked like the embodiment of evil - my drawing teacher grades 1 to 8 who never ever gave me better than a 9 although I did the prettiest drawings in the entire class.
There's also an slight reference to the way gypsies were (are?) treated culminating with a moment when another music teacher rejects the gypsy boy who can sing because "I wish I could, but you know very well I can't [have you in the choir on stage]."
The pace is quite slow because nothing much happens, but builds the mood towards the grand finale - the end of A world. Good film, first that made me look at national -specific flaws with amusement and not contempt.

Darjeeling Limited has no expiry date

You know what I hate when it comes to Wes Anderson? The fact that people, critics, bloggers, anyone with a mammalian brain call him quirky! He's just creative, people! That's what artists are supposed to be like. Not executives who are run on a dish of idiot a day.
Three brothers - Francis, Peter and Jack (Wilson the blond, Brody the nose and Schwatzman the broody)- that have not talked to each other in a year since their father's funeral are setting on a spiritual journey through India. The oldest (blondie), with an inexplicable bandage around this head, orders around the two younger in the same fashion as their mother, but with a sort of protectionist affection. His assistant with alopecia, hidden in economy car of the Darjeeling Limited train, slips them laminated schedules under the door regularly.( And I could not help but think that only a crazed movie producer would ask assistants to spend all their precious little time crammed with a laminating machine in a foreign country under probing circumstances - wouldn't you be more worried about food poisoning, malaria, over heating, getting the right equipment, finding a nice bathroom?)
All three suffer from various stages of emotional alienation: Francis's problem will be revealed throughout as he pops pills together with his siblings like in a musical orchestra, Peter has trouble coming to terms with the fact that he will have a child and that he actually loves his wife and Jack seems unable to let go of his former girlfriend (played by Natalie Portman in the "Hotel Chevalier" short) although he dabs in the native pool of helpers.
It's true that there's a certain familiarity in the way Anderson handles the family charade, but it is also true that it rings much more like the way regular people interact, the way family members feel comfortable around each other despite prolonged silences. The comedy, however, falls a bit flat. It's not a comedy of situation or of wit. More like a comedy of feelings - as in "I can't believe he just did that." Colorful backdrops and cheerful supporting cast help the motility of the action. Yet, the director could have dropped the cheesy drop from the end.
Lovely work! Yes, Americanized, yes a bit sanitised, but hey, it's a step forward outside their comfort zone.
PS: Brody's schnooze is a big star! Love it. Should have its own nomination when time comes. Come to think of it Wilson's as well. Can someone please punch Schwartzman to induct him into the club?

Youth without Youth and head without brains or How to fact check your stories or Why not to be Romanian

I have not seen Coppola's latest yet, but I am wondering why everyone is bashing it so much in the British press. Granted, I have a bias towards it already, as it was filmed in Romania, after a Romanian novella and I personally did some work for his publicist during the shoot. Granted it is difficult literature. Eliade, on whose book this movie is based, was one of my favorite, if abstruse, writer of all literature we were forced to learn in school. He was a highly intelligent, self-taught man, who was so obsessed with the Eastern religions, that he left Romania when he was 19 to go to India and study them. When he was a teenager he made himself sleep very little (3 hours a night), as not to waste precious time he could use reading books and learning. It paid off, as he did manage to learn more about religion than probably any other man, wrote several all-encompassing tomes on the subject (plus essays, articles, memoirs, fiction) and went on to become a chair of religions department at University of Chicago.
But my post is not about that. It slightly disconcerts me when newspapers (even free ones) get stuff wrong about my country. From my understanding, British media does not have a history of fact-checking (TRIPLE GASP!). Which explains mistakes no one else would notice but someone like me. Which makes me think that true journalism is not dead after all and we will always be in demand.
Metro printed a story about three months ago in which the European Union had only 25 members. So where are the last two, my darlings? (Bulgaria and Romania for those who do not have a clue.) Still queing for the daily milk on a foggy communist morning? More like getting blind drunk and partying while the politicians steal the goods, but that's a different story.
Fashion magazines repeatedly misrepresent the fact that Irina Lazareanu, Karl Lagerfeld's new muse and Pete Doperty's one-month fiancee, is in fact Romanian-born, not Canadian. I perfectly understand her shame in not wanting to be one of us, frankly. I know another Canadian-Romanian in my course who bluntly refused to talk to me after I extracted the confession that she can speak Romanian. Made for awkward encouters afterwards. It must be like having the plague upon you...
And last, today, the London Paper states in its "Youth without Youth" review that the main character, played by Tim Roth, is Hungarian. (Argh, Romanian, Romanian! How many times do I have to repeat for you to remember?)Yes, some Hungarians would like their independence in a certain part of the world called Transylvania, but not the one in the film or the book. Cause he's really Romanian.

Claim of the Day

Time Out London came today on time-ish with the majestic headline on the cover "God is a Londoner- faith and the city." Only 2 cities in the world would dare claim such a nonsense. The other one is New York.
Of course the title is motivated by its special features on the myriad religions existing in the city (fashion and faith, speed dating and faith, the rise of the Evangelical church). After reading most of the material, I have one complaint guys - where are the Eastern Orthodox represented? We are not that few in numbers, especially if we take into calculations the population of Russia. Give us some sugar too!

Tabu

Is my favorite Romanian magazine because it is geared towards the cultured stylish geek. Kidding, towards women who don't like to beat around the bush and like to read. Practical dreamers. Or sophisticated bitches. It has great interviews, with interesting people who have achieved something in their lives through sheer talent, hard work and determination, fantastic features on taboos and great photography.
This issue has a very "Eyes Wide Open" but not really Decadence pictorial accompanying the interview with a designer who has been controversial at home because of the rumours circulating about his sexuality (yes, people still have a lot of work to do on that front).
My personal opinion: he's hot regardless of his emotional issues. If I feel so inclined, I'll take pics of the rest of the photos. Darn, technology lazy makes.

Miller Harris

Is not a sexy name by any means! It took a long time to register it as an actual perfume and not some stuffy old cologne. But as samples come, I picked, or was given by fate, this one called "Fleur du Matin" (Morning flower)which is a unisex like most of the rest in the range. The moment I opened that vial, I knew I had found a place in time I could always go back to. You take a sniff of this and you can build an entire moment you can suspend on your coordinates. It smells like a garden in the morning, when it's still cold outside and the dew has not sunken into the ground, but you wake up anyway because the rooster won't shut its trap. It belongs into a world without a morning coffee and warm slippers.
The Miller Harris perfumes are made by a high-end boutique in London by a young lady with an incredible nose. Currently with 19 products, it boasts quite a numerous clientele that requests personalized scents (a process that takes months and much dough, but well worth it).

Charlotte Gainsborough

I don't know the exact point when I became Anglophile, nor the reason for it, since I had pledged my loyalties to the French altar of culture ever since I was very young and read about red crayons in the boring Romanian texbooks. Since there are so many French people in my course, I am trying to swing back into continental set of mind. They are very chic and very unlike all the friends I have made so far (except my penpal French friend).I've been living in capitalism for waaay too long.
So because I have not seen a French movie in a while (it does hurt), I decided to get Charlotte Gainsborough's latest album 5:55 and I am pleasantly surprised. She's been mostly an actress and model, the daughter of two sixties icons - Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsborough - and not what one could classify as a classic beauty. Her music is like a whisper, it's like when you want to say something important to a loved one but can't get yourself to say the words loudly.

British docs on TV

They have some amazing documentaries on TV here, and I am not just saying so cause I find no fault with their culture as usual(Dickens check, Austen check, Brontes check, David Lean check, free museums check, Vivienne Westwood check etc you get my point). I watched alternatively "The Lost Children of China" and "The End of the World Cult" both fascinating in their own way.
The Lost Children was a re-run I was happy to catch as we had intense discussions at school of the Madeleine McCann case in the beginning of the term and why there's nothing much on other children who go missing. Not case in point the Channel 4 doc. The film presents a chilling fact of contemporary China, a country whose one-child per family policy led it into the gripes of a crisis in female population. Mature men - and not just the grossly old - have to pay for brides and traffickers have it quite easy as poor families have no means of finding them or feed them. In some cases it seems like a win-win situation for both adult parties. We don't really know how hard some of the kidnapped kids have it. The lucky ones are sold for work and not sexual slavery. And just like one brave detective who tracks these children says, it's dangerous to try rescuing them because the abductors see them as their property - poverty erases any moral issues. The more shocking scene, at least to me and if they translated it correctly, is this guy who was a former convict who muses while on camera that maybe he should do some traficking here and again because he heard one could fetch a much better price than when he was in the business. I found the cold bloodness absolutely horrifying. Imagine these people live among us too , it's not something endemic to Chineses society. And they have no qualms of making a buck off someone else's misery.
The other doc was fairly brave in penetrating the world of a so-called Messiah in Idaho (of course, as always they have all the answers in the States) and spending three weeks with him and his followers as they wait for the end of the world on October 31, 2007. Yeah, you guessed what happened to that prophecy. Michael Travesser promised a bunch of people that the end of the world will come and they will live without sin forever. The group of 56 has been living in a compound called Strong City separate from the world. Their irritating permanent smiles seem to hide something deeper than blind stupidity. It's understandable being disappointed with the world and distancing yourself from it. Honestly. What is wrong here is how children-now teenagers who have been born on the compound stubbornly refuse to stay with their parents (who had made that choice for them in the first place but realized what was really going on) and go back to Strong City like courier pigeons thinking that it was actually an active choice.
Also ridiculous is the moment Michael explains why he had to "consumate" several times with his son's wife. Apprently God forced him to. In the meantime, the clever cameraman catches the son leaning his head against the wall as he hears his father talking about this act of adultery. His faith has clearly been crushed more than a few times in his life by a man whose ego is too big to let go of those who worship him. After the obviouls failure during the first End of the World, Michael set a new date - 15 December 2007 - in less than two days. Let's see how that goes. I wish the producers of this material had stuck around for a bit more and gotten the believers' comments after the second deadline. What excuses could they come up with? At least they didn't commit suicide like the journalists were worried they would.
Conclusion: too much faith in the word of God through the voice of Man is bad and too little faith in God is not so much of a picnic either. Deep, eh? Ne c'est pas, mon petit grenouille?
PS: I could not bear putting the publicity images related to those two docs, so instead I picked a photo of a cat that looks a bit lost in the night.

Sophie Dahl

For those of you who don't live in the UK, she is a former plus-size model shredded to a zero and the granddaughter of Roald Dahl, the man who gave the world "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." I saw her last Thursday at the turning on of the Christmas lights at Southbank where she pushed a menacingly big button in the dreafulest of rains and then signed copies of her first novel "Playing with the Grown-ups."
You can't see much cause people kept on getting into my frame and when I moaned loudly about people's talent of spoiling my pics, Sophie's publicist, who was sitting next to me, said "If you buy a book, you can get a picture with her." No, thank you, honey, I read the reviews. She's very very pretty in real life and she should continue lighting Christmas installations.
Apparently an advert for Opium perfume by Yves Saint Laurent in which she is completely naked caused a commotion. I could not even tell it was her and the ad is reminiscent of the decor in "Perfume:the Story of a Murderer" the film. Big deal. People should be far more worried about gun control.
http://www.sophie-dahl.com/

The Wind That Shakes the Barley

In all honesty, I've watched it while doing three other things because I found it rather slow and cruel, and I could barely understand the Irish accent.
It caused a stir here in Britain after winning at Cannes in 2006 because it portrays its citizens in a rather brutish light (towards the Irish back in the 1920's). Granted it takes a certain amount of thick skin, discipline, determination and bold initiative to maintain a huge Empire for such a long time, but unnecessary cruelty is not one of these requirements by my book (but maybe that's why I don't rule an empire as we speak).
So in the opening scene of the movie a young Irish man is killed mercilessly because he refuses to say his name in English. After the incident, his friends gang up to form the local Resistance and, while they are not perfectly motivated in some of their actions, it becomes clear why things have turned so sour in that part of the world. The fascinating Cillian Murphy carries the film as a doctor turned fighter and as brother to one of the founders of the Resistance who, in a twisted sort of fate, becomes the enemy.
Probably one of the harder to digest scenes is the one where the lads shoot a young friend from their village for turning them in to his landlord out of fear because "it's a proper war and he betrayed us." It's not hard because of goriness, but of its intimacy. They try to not take it lightly, and they end up becoming too cruel on their side. The other is when a farmer's family from the village is brutalized by a gang of " soldiers" but they have no ammunition left due to an earlier attack and thus are left watching helplessly. What I also found disturbing was the act of cutting the hair of the younger woman, in a similar fashion to the concentration camp practices during World War 2.
Irish landscapes sweetly appease the tearful eye, not with the obvious, overwhelming beauty we are generally used to, but with a quiet, cosy feel.
Oh, and the title comes from a song they sing at the wake. Of all posters, I picked the one in Spanish. It has a nice ring to it " El Viento que Acaricia el Prado."

Virus

It's been doing the rounds in London and on the continent apparently. My eyes feel like they've been punched a few times with zest.

Atonement

There is this green dress in the movie version that Cecilia Tallis (Keira Knightley) wears that I've been wanting to find. Somehow it embodies the entire movie for me, the period, the desire, the boldness of crashed dreams.
I didn't read the book before I went to see the movie, but since McEwan's books have long been among my favorite works of fiction, I went there on the strenght of the trailer and my penchant for period British drama. In September. And since the movie is launching just now in the States (aka it just started existing)I thought I might as well.
It is summer and the Tallis household is in the gripes of multiples visits. The cousins from the North are hiding from a shameful divorce caused by their mom's indiscretion. The older brother is visiting from London with a friend who is a chocolate maganate and the two younger sisters have their own issues to deal with. Little Briony is putting on a play for her brother's visit, while Cecilia, fresh out of university is languishing around her family in the hopes that something interesting/important will tear her from this lassitude, while trying very hard to conceal her interest in old friend Robbie Turner, the maid's son, who is off to medical school on her father's money. As Briony witnesses a few awkard encounters between the two during the day of the visit, she misreads Robbie's behavior and does something that will change his life and his sister's life forever.
For some reason, critics say Cecilia is quite a heinous character that is only redeemed by her enduring and intense love for Robbie. While she does seem quite impenetrable in the beginning of the film, the book makes her look more fully rounded than Keira's character is written (which she plays very well by the way, without the help of her unrestrained pout).
While Briony makes a terrible mistake, which throws Robbie into jail and subsequently into war, and Cecilia in a nursing career, she will be haunted forever as a human being and as a writer by this act of innocence/ignorance that tainted her two most precious relationships.

Princess Bride

SUCKS BIG TIME!!! My boyfriend, who's never seen it, insisted watching it and... ta daaaaa. He hated it. Of course the cheesy 80s style didn't help the cause of the film - despite our great love for the eighties (more me )and fairy tales (more him), hot men (me) and hot women (him and me). Also Mandy Patinkin and Cary Elwes looked hot in tight pants and fencing. That saved me from drinking two pints of beer right afterwards in order to forget about every single detail.

Quelle horreur

I haven't picked up the pen in a while, yeah too busy doing Sudoku (I find myself
obsessed yet again with this thing). Also too busy worrying about loans and higher
studies and bar jobs. Ugh, hate going for bar jobs interviews although once I get the hang of it and get to know everyone who works there it's not so big of a deal.
Btw, I was almost money with the Oscar predictions. I changed my mind last minute only to be proven right. The Academy is so ...hm, predictable these days. Thank God that Cannes hasn't lost its luster yet. Speaking of which, if I am lucky, I can work for Tribeca Festival this year again. It was fun last time - managed to nick the phone numbers of famous directors from the database but obviously never called them and never will call them. Am not insane, just like to live it up a bit. Maybe the aroma of filmmaker gets on my crazy side and makes me intercept information. I love getting information. Probably should have been a spy. Maybe I will.

Oscars

My votes are in and probably my gut is not right this time either.
Unnervingly wrong almost every Oscar ceremony for the past 5 years.
But since I haven't seen most of the nominated films (and it's just
a handful I am not willing to pay 11 a pop to see in cinema in the
den of extravagantly overpriced and overrated rathell that New York
is), I don't feel bad if my guesses fail pathetically to resonate
with the maids and wives of Hollywood moguls who actually cast the
votes for this thing, I won't feel bad or guilty. Politics is
politics. I am just hoping Mr. Hack Scorsese won't win. Again.
How many gangsta epics helmed by this dude do we need to see? I know
I know, I shouldn't bitch if I haven't made a movie, but since I
worked for some movies I think I have to right to bemoan the over
hype. Go see "The Half Life of Timofey Berezin" when it comes out.
I almost fainted with excitement when I first read the script.
Finally something solid and original.
Now, enough of this rambling - I come from a perennialy disatisfied
nation- and here are my votes:
Best Actor: Forest Whitaker
Best Supporting Male: Djimon
Best Actress: Penny Cruz - love her
Best Supporting Female: Adriana Barazza
Animated Feature - Happy Feet
Art Direction- Pan's Labyrinth
Cinematography- Children of Men
Costume Design- The Devil Wears Prada
Directing- Letters from Iwo Jima - the old buggars love an old buggar
Doc Feature- Iraq in Fragments
Foreign Language- the Lives of Others
Makeup- Pan's Labyrinth
Music (Song)- Dreamgirls -from three nominations you gotta nail
one
Best Picture- The Queen (the buz, oh the buzz)
Best Adapted Script- Children of Men
Best Original Script -Little Miss Sunshine
There, I said it.

illness

One of my friends is ill. Seriously, hospital sort of ill and she is 2 weeks
younger than me. The problem? Blood clots. She has a huge one in the pelvis part of her left leg and tiny bits 
and pieces have broken off from it and have migrated towards the lungs.
It's quite a dangerous ailment. I would be paranoid beyond human
recognition at this point, but no, she is goofing around like she was in
college.
So I've been to the hospital three times and not fainted with
apprehension cause I am the kind of person whose knees go soft
when she enters a krankenhaus and imagines having a
million phantom diseases at the simple sight of a white coat or
a stretcher. Not a pretty sight. However, I held my own and
courageously marched inside.
The truth is she has a splendid view of Manhattan from her window.
People would kill for an apartment with such a view. Chrysler,
Empire and the little odd one close to Flatiron Building. Layers 
of steel, concrete, glass, mortar, optical fiber and God knows
what else, polystyrene... Not that it matters when you are sick,
but it helps the spirit lift up to the skies....Ummmmm, right.
Since I know that bood clots are dangerous beasts and can cause
death, I have been quite worried. It makes you think... But I won't
be pessimistic about it and throw some trite comments about
life, death, dying young, and thus the point of living and justice
and will let you enjoy the view.

Berlinale

 Is here. And I just got around to mentioning it.
Shame on me!!!