4 posts tagged “movies”

I have never been a horse girl. You know what I am talking about...one of those girls who wanted a horse, who dreamed about horses and drew pictures of them for hours on end, who had plastic horses with silky manes to brush and braid. No. Ewww.

But Maggie likes horses. And she got a ginormous horse from my parents for Christmas. Okay. Not THAT big...but big enough to not on fit in our packed luggage, and to have to be carried on the plane home. Which made for a very funny looking carry on bag. One with a tail protruding from the side.

Anyway, she loves it. Of course. She named the horse "Black" and combs his hair, and places random items on his head and pretends like he is wearing a hat made out of a slipper. Or whatever.

Two weeks ago, we had a family movie night. We watched "Black Beauty". I never read that book as a child. No interest. And I had never seen the movie. I just thought, you know, a movie about a horse -- Maggie will love it. Ughhhh. It was the MOST depressing movie, ever! I mean, she did like it, but sheesh! The crappy life the poor horse had to endure! It went on and on! A near drowning, a fire, being sold repeatedly, being beaten until left for dead, watching his friend get carted away on a death wagon, etc, etc...Two full hours of sadness. And then, in the end, (spoiler alert)  Black Beauty is reunited with his beloved childhood owner. And... I sobbed. What the?

I figured I was just hormonal. But THEN, last weekend, we watched another horse movie, "The Black Stallion" which I totally have vivid memories of watching as a child. I was captivated by this movie. So I was so excited to watch it with Maggie.

 She couldn't have cared less. No kidding. No taste, that kid! She prefers Blues Clues to the Black Stallion! So I put her to bed, and Kevin and I stayed up late watching the rest. And along came the ending, and Alec and the Black Stallion are in the big horse race. The odds are against them. No one believes they can do it. The Stallion gets an injury, and they are far behind. But then -- we are transported back to the island -- Alec is riding bareback, with his arms outstreched, and the horse's mane is flying in the wind. Hoorah -- they win the race! And, well, I think you probably know my reaction...

And I felt so stupid! Sitting there, with tears streaming down my face. I mean -- I don't even LIKE horses! I felt manipulated. Or weak. Or sappy. So I started yelling at the TV -- "I don't care about horses! I would eat a horse! I voted to eat a horse in California! WHAT is wrong with me????"  Oh, I was so mad. I just felt like such a sap and a half. Also, what added insult to injury, was that I was dabbing away at my bloodshot, blubbering  eyes with these (note to self, do NOT have this box of tissues nearby when any sort of sobfest occurs. They cause serious eye pain. You have been warned.)

This weekend -- we are SO not gonna watch a horse movie. I am putting my foot down. We have "Babe" (the one about the sheep herding pig) that I have rented from the library. Oh gosh. I just sort of remembered the uplifting, "be true to yourself" message in that movie. And the line "That'll do, Pig." Oh, I am tearing up right now! Where are my non eucalypus soaked tissues??!

The other day Kevin and Maggie and I were sitting in a neighborhood restaurant eating lunch. I was in a totally happy, content mood. I was not feeling weepy in the slightest. We had just gone to see the local Silent Film Museum in Niles Canyon and Kevin and I were talking about the fragility of film back in the old days. He was sharing with me some information he had read about how flammable the actual film strips used to be and how they could catch on fire at a moment's notice. I said, "yeah, I know, remember when that happened in Cinema Paradiso?" No. He didn't remember. He insisted he had seen the film, but could not remember that scene. So I started to try and refresh his memory and tell him about it.

I started with the little fatherless boy Toto who loved  Alfredo, the film projector operator at the local Cinema. I interspersed the descriptions with spirited reinactments of Toto yelling "Alfredo, Alfredo!" Nope. He still couldn't remember.

So I went on to the scene when Alfredo gets stuck in the film projector room and there is a fire from the ignited film strips that will surely kill him, but the little boy comes in and saves the man's life ("Alfredo Alfredo!") by dragging him down the stairs and out into the square. But then Alfredo is blind. And can no longer work at the one job he loves. 

By this time in the telling, I was totally sobbing. Right there in the restaurant. Maggie was like "Mommy? Is Mommy okay?" Kevin had to assure her that I was just happy. Happy remembering a movie I really liked. But that he STILL couldn't remember.

So THEN I was like, "Don't you even remember the ending? Oh God, the ending!" I had to reach over to another table to grab a new napkin. Mine by this point was soaked with tears.

"Toto grows up and moves away and becomes a big shot film director, and when Alfredo dies, Toto is too busy to go to the funeral, but Alfredo leaves him one last movie in his will..." I couldn't even go on. I was laughing and crying and was really more than a little undone. Other diners were starting to stare.

"And Toto watches it and it is a movie of all of the kiss scenes   that the Italian Priest made Alfredo edit out over the years. Just one kiss after another, and Toto sits there and watches and smiles and cries and it is so wonderful. DON"T YOU REMEMBER NOW???!!!" I think I may have had a hysterical screetch to my voice.

"Hmmmm," said Kevin,"I guess I never did see that movie..."

Arghhhhh!  Hopefully you, dear blog reader HAVE seen the movie, and I haven't completely ruined it for you. No, but really, it is good even if you know the ending. Go out and rent it. And make sure you have plenty of kleenex.

I went to San Diego last weekend, and I do plan to blog about it soon, but I wanted to just mention this movie I watched last week before I forget:

Here is the preview. Kevin and I both enjoyed it. And after seeing the movie, it made me want to listen to the CD. Which I did. And cried through the entire song "I'm not Ready to Make Nice"

Has anyone else seen this movie? I had never even really listened to the Dixie Chicks before the whole hullabaloo back in 2003. But they really are good singers. If you don't mind a little bit of a county twang.

So, the other day, Kevin and I were watching the Motorcycle Diaries and I was so excited, to be watching a movie about Che Guevera, an activist who had pretty much changed the world with his beliefs, and who had really motivated people to take action, etc. (Plus the guy playing the main character is easy on the eyes...)

 Well, we watched the movie, and it was beautifully filmed, yadda yadda, lots of "two guys on a road trip" kind of story lines going on, and then it sort of ended abruptly. And we got a little written biography of him and what happened to him later in life. And basically, it said, "Che Guevara went on to Cuba and influenced Fidel Castro, blah blah blah. And died in a violent shoot out."

And I was like, "WHAAAAAA?"   

You see, I was confused because I thought that the movie was about this person:

Mmmmm hmmmm. Cesar Chavez. The guy who organized the grape pickers and masterminded the lettuce boycotts. A pretty important person in the history of California. And the USA, actually. We have roads named after him, and some people I know even get a day off on his birthday.   

But actually, "The Motorcycle Diaries" was about this guy:

Che Guevara. The guy on all the T-shirts. The guy whose face is on bumper stickers on the back of VW vans. 

And I was so EMBARRASED! Because, sheesh, I can't even keep my Spanish named activists straight! Honest to God, I realized I didn't know who either of these guys were, really.

So I turned to Kevin and shamefacedly admitted my confusion. And Kevin - God love him for not being like so many men I know, who would deny any sort of mistake, ever! Looked right back at me and said "I thought it was all about Cesar Chavez, too. I was wondering when he was going to get to the lettuce fields..."

Ha.

This would be funny. Funny -- if Kevin and I weren't involved in and in charge of a whole lot of activist events right now through MoveOn.Org.  We are an embarassment to our progressive causes.

 I dunno. I should probably blame Mr. Schelstrate, my high school American History teacher, but I can't do that. He was too wonderful and in my eyes, could do no wrong.  

I believe I will blame my senior year Government teacher, Mrs. Jeens, instead.  Shouldn't she have been teaching us about "pinkos" like Chavez and Guevara?! Yes. She should have. I mean, this is the Real World, people. The R.W.!

Viva La Revolucion!