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Turkey Day is Icumen In
Oct. 8th, 2006 01:45 pmMan, this whole week has been for crap, really. Called ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
agincourtgirl in for a whole day so that I could finish one 350-word review for Rue Morgue, check. Cal now has a damn cough again, check. Still doing 98% of the household chores myself, check. Steve ate a sandwich that made him loguey and self-pitying, check. Got another massage, which was exquisitely painful, mainly serving to attract my attention to just how fucked up and out-of-allignment my body's become (plus the fact that my nodes are apparently full of toxic, stored-up stress-lymph), check. Didn't work out for most of the last five days, check. Didn't write anything worth talking about, check.
Last night, however, Steve and I went to see Scorsese's The Departed, which almost made up for all the above. It'll never replace Gangs in my heart, because it just doesn't have that sort of epic scope--but what it does have is a crackling, kinetic, emotionally sharp type of movie-making which 99.9% of all other films simply LACK. It shows why this man's at the absolute top of his game, constantly going from strength to strength. If you're not interested in the subject-matter, that's one thing (and believe me, this is as wonderful an Asian-to-American transposition as anything I've ever seen--who knew that Boston and Hong Kong were so similar? Or that life in Hong Kong would offer more chances for moral redemption?). But if you can't at least acknowledge that Marty blows most other working directors so fucking far out of the water they can't even see it any more, I despair of your mental health.
To say more would be to risk spoilers, because I'd want to discuss performances and character arcs in detail. I will therefore stop here, and go work out.
agincourtgirl in for a whole day so that I could finish one 350-word review for Rue Morgue, check. Cal now has a damn cough again, check. Still doing 98% of the household chores myself, check. Steve ate a sandwich that made him loguey and self-pitying, check. Got another massage, which was exquisitely painful, mainly serving to attract my attention to just how fucked up and out-of-allignment my body's become (plus the fact that my nodes are apparently full of toxic, stored-up stress-lymph), check. Didn't work out for most of the last five days, check. Didn't write anything worth talking about, check.Last night, however, Steve and I went to see Scorsese's The Departed, which almost made up for all the above. It'll never replace Gangs in my heart, because it just doesn't have that sort of epic scope--but what it does have is a crackling, kinetic, emotionally sharp type of movie-making which 99.9% of all other films simply LACK. It shows why this man's at the absolute top of his game, constantly going from strength to strength. If you're not interested in the subject-matter, that's one thing (and believe me, this is as wonderful an Asian-to-American transposition as anything I've ever seen--who knew that Boston and Hong Kong were so similar? Or that life in Hong Kong would offer more chances for moral redemption?). But if you can't at least acknowledge that Marty blows most other working directors so fucking far out of the water they can't even see it any more, I despair of your mental health.
To say more would be to risk spoilers, because I'd want to discuss performances and character arcs in detail. I will therefore stop here, and go work out.
