Nicki’s blog

I really enjoyed this book. Being so different from other du Maurier novels, I did not have to bear the burden of trying not to constantly compare and weigh it against Rebecca (a favorite of mine). The only similarities that this novel holds to others by du Maurier are the mists and fogs and lapping waves of the sea by virtue of it's setting along the Cornish coast.

The story is told from the perspective of Dick Young, who is vacationing in a farmhouse lent to him for free by his long-time friend and professor, Magnus. In exchange, Dick agrees to be Magnus' guinea pig in an experiment with a mind-altering drug that transports users back in time by about 600 years.

After his first “trip” Dick is immediately intrigued by the people he's seen, enticed by the excitement of a world so different from his own. Meanwhile, he is joined by his wife and two stepsons and he is at once put off by their arrival at the farmhouse, which is much earlier than he anticipated. He realizes that their presence will make it all the more difficult for him to transport back to this other time, which he finds so much more alluring than his life in the present. In fact, with each passing experience he plunges deeper and deeper into this other realm and as he does so, he becomes increasingly bored and dissatisfied with his existing life and the people in it.

It becomes obvious that he begins to value the people of his hallucinations more than those who occupy his present reality as on more than one occasion he seems readily willing to forsake their trust and affection just to be a witness to the events in these other ancient lives, the lives of people who don't even know he exists, his presence being completely unknown.

I found it difficult to really get into the time travel portions of the novel because the numerous characters (of which we only get sporadic glimpses) and events were difficult to follow. I found the events surrounding the time travel to be much more engrossing.

This was certainly not the most exciting, alluring, or mysterious novel that I've ever read, however, there was something about du Maurier's prose that was just as addictive to me as the drug was to Dick Young. Once I picked up the novel to read I felt that I was being pulled along further and further and could not bring myself to stop unless responsibility called and I absolutely had to.

Year Published: 1969

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*Note: This post may contain spoilers

Shoot the Piano Player opens with a very film noir scene during which a man is being chased down an alley, finally collapsing under the spotlight of a street lamp. We soon learn that this man is the brother of honky tonk piano player, Charles Aznavour, who he seeks out for help when he's recovered from the stupor of the chase by showing up at the bar where Charlie is playing.

With this action Charlie becomes dragged into a skirmish between his brother and two gangsters. The gangsters then begin to target Charlie as a way to get to his brother.

Charles Aznavour immediately becomes a somewhat enigmatic character, giving away little with his words or expressions. The enigma starts to break when we hear Charlie's thoughts. Then we see that he is a believably human character who struggles with apprehension and social anxiety, often over-thinking his actions and letting opportunities allude him. For instance, there is a scene where his is walking down the street with a waitress from the bar where he works and for whom he has an attraction. We are wise to his inner struggle as he formulates exactly how he's going to ask her to have a drink with him. But when he's finally moved to action, it's too late, the waitress has walked off, the moment passed.

We don't sense Charlie's apprehension and timidity only through the hearing of his thoughts. There is a great scene where he is going to an audition and though we don't hear a single one of his thoughts aloud, we know exactly how he's feeling. The camera follows him laboriously down a long corridor as he searches for the right office door. When he finds it, it feels like a great dramatic pause before the camera moves in on his finger pressing the doorbell, no doubt to convey the magnitude of the moment, the sheer weight of the action.

Charlie remains a mystery, however. We see early on that he has a son but it's obvious that he does not have a wife. We know nothing of his past life and we are left to wonder what accounts for his lonesome and somewhat melancholy existence. The veil is finally lifted when the waitress invites Charlie to her apartment where we learn that she knows of his past success and past identity as the famous classical pianist, Edouard Saroyan. In that moment the tragic events of his former life begin to unfold in one long flashback.

Shoot the Piano Player is subject to sudden mood changes, often toggling between suspense and humor and sometimes romance. This contrast is most notable during scenes involving the two gangsters. The suspense of their chase melts away once they've captured their victims, when almost at once they spring into comedic action, poking fun at each other and bantering with their captives.

Truffaut gave us a mixed bag with this one, throwing in a little gangster action, a little comedy, a little romance, all interloping to create one great film.

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Year: 1960 (French)

Director and Screenwriter: Truffaut

(based on the pulp novel, Down There by David Goodis

Actors: Charles Aznavour

            Nicole Berger

            Marie Dubois

            Albert Remy

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*Note: This post contains spoilers*

                                                          
Two strangers meet on a train. Guy Haines: sensible, decent, accomplished, respectable. The other, Anthony Bruno: spontaneous, extravagant, rich, bored, obsessive. It doesn't end there, he's also deeply disturbed, manipulative. . . a psychopath. These two seemingly polar opposites share a train compartment and so begins a swirl of conversation and confession during which Bruno suggests that “everyone is capable of murder.” Is he right?

This is the shared premise of both Highsmith's 1950 novel and Hitchcock's 1951 film adaptation. However, that's where the similarities pretty much end. The two go in very different directions with this concept. As for the above question, Highsmith and Hitchcock seem to be on opposing sides of this issue.

During their conversation on the train, Bruno proposes to Guy a double murder deal, where they will each do away with the person who is the thorn in the other's side. For Guy, it's his soon to be ex-wife who is making unreasonable demands and trying to interfere with his success. For Bruno, it's his father who he abhors. To Bruno, this seems to be the perfect solution since no one knows that he and Guy know each other and there wouldn't be any motive. But Guy is not so easy to convince. He leaves the train disturbed, and content to never see Bruno again.

However, through mere happenstance, Guy leaves behind a token of his identity which Bruno exploits and proceeds to haunt Guy, calling at all hours, showing up at social events pretending to be an old friend and embarrassing Guy. All the while, attempting to manipulate, provoke, and convince Guy to do the deed, to become his partner in crime. Which again raises the question, is Bruno right, is every seemingly decent human being capable of murder?

Highsmith seems to side with Bruno and in her uniquely evocative way, calls into question what the seemingly decent human being is capable of when all that he cherishes is suddenly threatened. I felt that Highsmith's novel was strong up until the very last page. And I mean that, excluding the last page. The ending sort of left me fingering the last few pages to make sure that there wasn't some hidden prologue, some secret last chapter that I was about to miss out on. The resolution was rather abrupt, rushed, and didn't seem to match the pacing of the rest of the novel. With that said, it didn't ruin it for me. Highsmith produced a well-written, well-crafted novel with dynamic characters and a subtly suspenseful and addictive plot.

Hitchcock takes the other side of this issue, rooting for the decent ones among us, in his 1951 film that was nominated for best cinematography in that same year. We can see why in one of the most intriguingly artistic scenes of the film when we view a murder through a reflection in the victim's glasses which have fallen on the ground during her struggle.

I felt that Hitchcock's own daughter, Patricia, gave a particularly strong performance. She plays Barbara Morton (sister of Anne – Guy Haines' girlfriend), who is not a character in the novel, but one who adds a different element to the film; a bit of light humor and whimsy that is not found in the book.

The film is not an exact or even close adaptation of the novel, but as I continue to read books that were made into Hitchcock films, I've come to love that about him. Reading the book never ruins the movie! Of course the reverse is true as well because they usually share only a central idea or concept and the rest is entirely different.

As with a number of Hitchcock films, some events in the plot are not completely plausible or even logical. An example from this film is when Bruno drops Guy's lighter, which he has a limited time to plant at the crime scene to implicate Guy, and it falls in a street drain. We witness this scene from two perspectives, with camera shots from both above and below the surface. From below the surface, we see Bruno's arm slowly extending further and further until he finally grasps the lighter. Then the camera flashes to street level where it becomes obvious that Bruno's wrist would not even fit in the drain, much less his entire arm! Hitchcock said that he was annoyed with critics who brought up such criticisms because he believed that fear and suspense should suspend all logic. In other words, you should be so on the edge of your seat to know how it will all come together that you're not even thinking about whether or not it makes sense. And perhaps I would have been if I had not previously read Hitchcock's statement. Ever since then I've been on the lookout for such implausibilities.

Though for entirely different reasons, I thoroughly enjoyed both this book and the film adaptation.

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Director: Hitchcock

Writer: Patricia Highsmith (novel - 1950)

           Whitfield Cook (Script - 1951)

Actors: Farley Granger

          Ruth Roman

          Robert Walker

*Please note: This post contains spoilers*

Truffaut's first feature film, The 400 Blows, is about the misadventures of a thirteen year old boy living with his mom and step-dad in France. It is semi-autobiographical as it resembles Truffaut's own childhood and it was the film that marked Truffaut as a key filmmaker of the French New Wave.

In the film, Antoine Doinel is quickly marked as a troublemaker. With very little effort put forth to understand him (or to reflect on their own actions), the adults in Antoine's life merely see him as disturbed. At first, it seems that Antoine is an accidental troublemaker. For instance, when a pin-up is passed around the classroom, the teacher just happens to look up when it is passing through Antoine's hands. It seems that Antoine really wants and tries to be good but has very bad luck. As the film progresses, however, we see Antoine resign to the label that he's been given. He becomes exactly what everyone already thinks he is anyway as he begins to seek out undesirable situations rather than just falling into them.

Some have argued that this film does not have a point or a message, however, I beg to differ. First, I would argue that for a film to be good and entertaining it doesn't have to have a point, but I believe, if you want it to, that this film does. Truffaut presents his story rather objectively. He doesn't make a case for the child being inherently good or troubled.  He doesn't push a message onto the viewer and he doesn't insinuate that he's trying to prove a point.  He simply tells the story and the viewer is left with the decision of whether or not to extract meaning from it. I believe that this film speaks to some universalities of misunderstood childhood, of poverty, of detached parenting, and of education that's disconnected from life.

The 400 Blows has a believable and involving story-line coupled with some nice cinematic effects with lighting and perspective. It is simple and realistic in it's delivery.

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Writer and Director: Francois Truffaut

Year: 1959, France

Actors: Jean-Pierre Leaud

    Claire Maurier

    Albert Remy

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What? A post-apocalyptic movie for kids? Wall-E, in its own brilliant way, is just that. I have to wonder what the producers must have said or thought when the idea was first brought to them. Let's see, we want you to give us loads and loads of money to produce a haunting, yet animated, tale of ruin about a solitary junk-compacting robot who is one of the lone survivors after man, through his greed and gluttony, has destroyed the world and then escaped to create a warped society on a spaceship far from earth. Oh yes, and the first half of the movie will be, for the most part, silent; that is, dialog-free.     Are you kidding me?

Okay it's Pixar, so I don't honestly believe that's how it all went down. But still, I have to wonder how it was all received at it's conception, before all that brilliance came shining through.

Wall-E's character is first-rate – so well done. Yes, he is a robot, a machine, a compilation of metal parts and wires. He's a metal box with a luminous personality. It's amazing how they were able to convey such emotion in his posture, his facial expressions, and his body movements. He's almost puppy-like, his emotion so innocent and so genuine.

Wall-E is simultaneously humorous, charming, and thought-provoking. This movie made me think, moved me to tears, and then made me laugh right through them (one of my favorite emotions).

I totally disagree with anyone who says that this movie is too dark for children. There are obviously some dark undertones but let's face it, life IS sometimes dark. But Wall-E's message is far from gloom and doom.

Wall-E reminds us that when darkness falls, look for the stars. Which is exactly what he does from the very start of the film. Day after day, amidst the ugliness of piles and piles of garbage and rubble, Wall-E finds treasure. Wall-E's treasures are not the rare and grandiose things that people of our society tend to value. He finds delight in the simple, in the mundane, in things that others would and have thrown away. With his collection he finds purpose and meaning.

Later, with the presence of Eve, a robot who has been sent to search for signs of life, Wall-E has an even bigger message. He struggles to connect with Eve who is not accustomed to such interaction. Even after rejection, he is hopeful and persistent. When he does break through and begin to form a bond, he is willing to abandon all that he knows to keep that connection alive and growing. He is even willing to forsake his home and his prized collection of things. Wall-E, the robot, reminds us that above all else, human connectedness reigns supreme. Sometimes we must work hard to attain it, sacrifice to achieve it, and fight to keep it alive, but it's worth it – above all else.

Wall-E is doing all of these things while his human counterparts have all but forgotten what human connection even is. They've evolved into a blubbery version of the Weeble people as they stare at their computer screens, remaining immobile in their hovercrafts, forsaking any kind of individuality, just mindlessly accepting whatever is “fed” to them – literally and figuratively. Basically, they are just wasting away in their dystopia.

I read from one reviewer that he found the gluttonous humans to be insulting – let's see, it wouldn't be insulting if there wasn't a measure of truth in there somewhere, now would it?. Yet, that's NOT the message of the film.  I daresay that such viewers are getting snagged on their hang-ups and missing the point. It does not intend to convey that humans are just a blubberous waste of space. Sure, they may have forgotten themselves for a time, abandoning their nature for the sake of comfort and pleasure, but in the end they do what's right, they redeem themselves, they prove their worth.

I have heard others say that the movie is overly moralistic. I say, what's wrong with a movie with a message? We, Buy-N-Large (pun intended) , don't seem to be getting it any other way. No, I see nothing wrong with sending a message, especially when it's so well done.

Wall-E is far from gloom and doom. Wall-E, above all, is about hope and redemption and clinging, not to frivolous things, but to what is really important in life – each other.

Went to see the new X-files movie this weekend. It seems that some were less than impressed with the effort. Personally, I thought it was good, not mind-blowing, not amazingly awesome, but good. (There are definitely some individual episodes that are much much better.)

It's really comparable to what you'd expect from a season premiere or finale, an extra long special episode. There isn't anything particularly revelatory about it. It doesn't answer or expound upon any unanswered questions. But if you go into it with a certain expectation, of just an extra long episode of the X-files, I don't think you'll be too disappointed.

The movie does not try to pick up where the series left off, so for me, I liked getting a glimpse of where the characters may have headed after their FBI run ended. There's also some nice camera shots, the ones in the snow are particularly beautiful. The chemistry between Mulder and Scully is good too, but again, not at it's best.

I don't want to include any spoilers, so I'll just say that there's a connection that's drawn involving Proverbs 25:2 that had me seriously rolling my eyes. It was a bit of a stretch.  I'm sure that the movie could also have been improved by an appearance from the Lone Gunmen.  :)  But overall, I enjoyed it.

Peony in Love is part historical fiction part romance.  Set in ancient China around the time of the Manchu overthrow of the Ming regime, it tells the story of a young girl whose life begins to parallel her favorite opera, The Peony Pavillion.  Peony's marriage has already been arranged for her by her family when she meets an intriguing young poet with whom she falls in love. 

Realizing that she cannot proceed with her arranged marriage while she's in love with another, she becomes lovesick and starves herself to death.  With this event comes a surprising twist in perspective.  It was at this point in the novel that I had to pause, take a deep breath, and resolve to read on.  I loved the story and See's writing up until this, so I had faith that the shift would not be the downfall of the novel.  Indeed, it was not.  See pulls it off masterfully as Peony continues to tell her story in the first person as what is termed a "hungry ghost."

This book is full of ironic twists, through which See weaves a tale that causes us to reflect on and question our deeply held perceptions and assumptions, particularly in regard to those who are closest to us and who we think we know everything about. 

Through her storytelling, See gives us insight into ancient Chinese traditions, history, customs, societal gender expectations, and beliefs about the afterlife.  It is a complex little novel and as with most complex endeavors, it is not flawless.  There are some holes, but in my opinion, they are not so deep as to stumble the reader beyond redemption.

"The only permanent thing is impermanence."
-Dr. Zhao, Peony in Love