eah, yeah, haven’t written in a while. Big announcement – that has nothing to do with symbolic rings or symbolic expansion of my stomach – to come, and my free time’s been focused on getting all o’ that stuff in ship shape.
Bill and I saw Cloud Atlas over the weekend. Before I go on, two things:
- It takes a lot of anticipation and promise for Bill and me to actually go to a theater, particularly on opening weekend.
- No I haven’t finished reading Cloud Atlas yet. I am two sections in, and it’s a major challenge reading David Mitchell’s writing on a standing-room only train ride. Even when I focus, I can’t get over the fact that this multi-tonal, multi-setting tome was written in contemporary times. How did he do it? Read no sarcasm in this statement: It is so impressive.
On to the film.
While I’m opinionated, I’m no movie critic. But I’ve got so many thoughts on CA that I’ve got to map them out here. If it wasn’t abundantly clear in the poorly edited trailers, Cloud Atlas the movie is all about interconnectedness (Oscar season always starts with an attempt like this, doesn’t it?), so I think it’s appropriate to say that all lame movie moments are connected! Spoilers ahead!
- When Dermot Hoggins threw Felix Finch off a balcony to his death, I was immediately transported back to that time I watched Meet Joe Black without sound on an airplane. The overdramatic gore was hilarious. Which I’m sure was not the intended reaction.
- Episode I level writing. Oh yeah. It’s that bad. “So they feed us to ourselves” is the new “It’s not fair!” – with a little bit of Soylent Green but not evoking the same kind of effect. And some Fight Club, of course.
- Turns out sex is the Fifth Element that makes Doona Bae see the light and feel compelled to become the symbol of The Rebellion. Otherwise, she’s all kindsa reluctant/uninformed hero a la Hunger Games. (Okay, I’m being snarky. Love is the fifth element, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’ve all seen this show before. Even if all we’ve watched is Captain Planet.)
- Frobisher (which always makes me think of Ted Danson’s Arthur Frobisher in Damages) feverishly finishing his sextet? Amadeus, Amadeus. “Salierrrriiiiii!”
- Hugo Weaving’s Green Goblin Man is more confusing than he is fear-inducing or troubling, very much like Robert Carlyle’s Rumplestiltskin in Once Upon a Time (which is half a step above any reality programming when it comes to TV, in my opinion – It’s so godawful I am actively angry at the people who make it.). With all the detail that went into making each character into five other characters, I couldn’t stop looking at Weaving’s gums wondering “Why didn’t they make the inside of his mouth black, too?”
- I’m not mad at Hugo Weaving playing Nurse Noakes, but we should all be reminded that Weaving can play a pretty man, too. Re-enter Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Otherwise, the Cavendish arc is all very One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest but probably the most enjoyable storyline in the movie.
- With The Colbert Report and Saturday Night Live, clearly Tom Hanks’ PR team is all kinds of connected, too.
- And finally, with each actor playing six characters, you can’t help but be like: So I guess the Martin Lawrence/Tyler Perry model works?
To be fair, when a story spans so many ages and journeys, it’s probably part and parcel that it employs a thousand archetypes. Still, the deja vu moments (You could call them glitches in the Matrix [pointed eyebrow raise]) that popped into my head go on and on.
And then the other thoughts.
- You can’t. Cover up. Bone structure. OH, THE YELLOW FACE! And the White Face. I could go on about this, but it’s almost pointless. It’s uncomfortable every time. The genderbending I can appreciate. The racebending is just…awkward, and no, I don’t think they should have tried.
- The makeup was amazing! Specifically for aging. Specifically for the men. Otherwise, did Halle Barry have it in her contract to not add any prosthetic saggy skin to her face? Because she just looks like a grandma with super spacey Botox.