Do yourself a favor on this first weekend of spring: Go see Sunshine Cleaning. It’s already been released in some cities, and opens everywhere else today.
I was lucky enough to attend a screening last night with Liz. I’ve wanted to see the film since I saw the trailers for it this winter. Sometimes, anticipating something does not pay off. Fortunately, this isn’t the case with Sunshine Cleaning. I enjoyed it from start to finish. It made me cry no less than five times.
I recommend the film to everyone, but especially to those female readers out there who have a sister. Sunshine follows two sisters trying to get their business (which is, in nutshell, cleaning up after dead people) off the ground. The two have their share of problems, but underneath it all, there’s a strong bond that only exists between sisters. Right when the film ended, I turned to Liz and said, “That made me really miss my sister.” She said it made her wish she had one.
Great story aside, you really can’t go wrong with a cast that includes two-time Oscar nominee Amy Adams, Golden Globe winner Emily Blut, and Oscar winner Alan Arkin. If my suspicions are correct, they’ll be attending more awards ceremonies next year.
Video of the Day: The world will miss you, Natasha Richardson. You will always be my favorite Sally Bowles. Here she is reinventing performing the titular song from Cabaret. (AKA Sarah’s favorite musical of all time.)
The promo for HBO’s Grey Gardens has been released. And what’s more, it looks great.
I’m sure that some die-hard Grey Gardens fans will have problems with the film, which is not a remake of the documentary, but rather goes back in time and tells the story of how Big Edie and Little Edie went from rich, regal elites to living in a condemned home. But I’m on board.
Don’t get this confused with the musical, which does goes back to the ’40s in the first act to set up the relationship between Little Edie and her mother. The HBO production is a separate piece, though I’m sure the musical served as an influence.
I saw Grey Gardens last year, in preparation for seeing the play. Before that, I knew it as a great song by Rufus Wainwright, as well as the movie Lorelai and Rory are watching in A Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving (one of my favorite episodes of Gilmore Girls).
I’m not going to lie – I was horrified. The film is so cacophonous, so busy, so dirty. I got angry at Albert Maysles for exploiting these women. I wondered why no one had saved them, why Maysles thought this would be a good idea for a documentary. These women were crazy, and people just let a film crew into the house?
It’s not perfect; at least not the version I saw. The first act dragged, the actress playing Young Little Edie was lackluster, and the music was kind of uninspiring. But the second act, the second act just broke my heart. It takes place in 1975, and is basically a theatrical adaptation of the documentary. Many of the lines come straight from the film, and the music is much, much better. By the end of the show, everyone was crying.
And therein lies the paradox of the musical: The second act is so powerful, yet you need Act I as a set up. But maybe that’s just me. The show did okay for itself – it ran for almost a year on Broadway, won three Tonys and was nominated for Best Musical.
For me, the musical was much easier to watch, partly because I knew what to expect, having seen the documentary days before, but mostly because I was watching two actors and not actual people. There was distance. And though I knew they were playing characters based on real women, it wasn’t real. I could laugh at Little Edie’s ramblings, and Big Edie’s ballad about corn.
Ever since seeing the musical, a little part of me has understood the obsession with the documentary and with these women. I don’t think I could sit through it again, but I am anxious to see the HBO production. From the trailer, it looks like they go even further in speculation than the musical. Somehow, this makes it even less real for me, and therefore, easier to watch.
Check it out. Does HBO know how to make a trailer or what? I can’t wait till April 18th.
I’m tearing up already. Also, can you believe that’s Jessica Lange under all that make up? Wow.
Video of the Day:“It’s the most disgusting, atrocious thing ever to happen in America.” Here’s a little taste of the musical – this is the song that opens Act II. Da da da da dum.
There were a few catchy tunes – the title track, “No Line on the Horizon” as well as “I’ll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight”, “Get On Your Boots”, “Snow”, and “Breathe.” But, while pleasant enough, none of those tunes spoke to me. And as a lifelong U2 fan, I find this upsetting. Usually, there is at least one song on each album that, the first time I hear it, makes me feel something. I know I’m hearing something special and beautiful.
The memory of hearing “Staring at the Sun” for the first time in 1997 is so vivid, it nearly transports me back in time. I was sitting in my living room, curled up on the couch next to the stereo, the CD jacket for Pop in my hands. I was transfixed. Later that night, I told my high school boyfriend (and fellow U2 fanatic), “I think listening to this album made me fall in love with U2 all over again.” It was that powerful.
The first time I listened to “Walk On” I was in my car in Greensboro, NC, running errands, and started crying. I was 19, I was miserable, and I felt like Bono was speaking to me through the car stereo.
I was walking through downtown Chicago the first time I listened to “City of Blinding Lights” and I was so moved by the guitar/keyboard riff, I got tears in my eyes.
Today, I was sitting at my desk, editing a document, and I waited. I waited for that one song. I anticipated the start of each track. “This will be the one,” I told myself. “This has got to be the one.” Many of them started promising, with that patent Edge guitar sound, a sound that has comforted me for years. But it never came.
It was so disappointing.
I’m not writing off No Line on the Horizon. (Yet.) I’m confident that after a few listens, I’ll like it. But, for the first time in 15 years, I didn’t get that special feeling.
A part of me wonders if I am outgrowing U2. If maybe I don’t need them as much anymore, now that I’m not a maudlin teenager or insecure young adult.
I don’t think so, though. Maybe I don’t want to believe it, but I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow U2. But my other thought is even more scary: The notion that maybe, just maybe, U2 has missed the mark with this one. Maybe, for the first time in 15 years, I just don’t like their product.
I hope I’m wrong.
Video of the Day: Let’s go back to a simpler time, shall we. A time when I didn’t doubt my love. A time when all I wanted was U2.
Ahh. That’s better.
*Bonus points to anyone who gets the reference. Hint: “There was abuse in my family, but it was mostly musical in nature.”
I have to admit, I’m not as excited about No Line on the Horizon as I should be. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since they released an album. Maybe it’s because I’m not really digging their single. Maybe it’s because the online U2 group I belong to is posting like 12 times a day and it’s driving me insane. And yet, I can’t leave the group because what if there is news I must know, like Bono calling Chris Martin a wanker? (HA!)
Or maybe it’s all of the above.
But I’m not worried. I’ve loved U2 since the tender age of 12. I will love them forever, no matter what they do. I stuck by them through Pop (totally underrated, BTW) and through Bono’s bad haircuts. I stand by the politicization of the band. Anytime I go to a concert, I inevitably stand in front of some…wanker…who complains when Bono starts preaching about his latest cause. To which I always want to say: Dude, you’re at a U2 concert. What did you expect? Sure, he preaches, and sure, he’s way too pompous for his own good. But at least he’s using his celebrity for good, and standing up for what he believes in.
…Somehow when Bono does this, I don’t mind; when Sean Penn does, I want to rip his tongue out. Go figure.
Anyway, despite my lackluster attitude now, I’m confident that within a month, I’ll have the album memorized. I’ll like 80 percent of the songs, be not so crazy about one or two, fall in love with at least three, and be there when they come to DC. This has been my pattern for almost 16 years now; no reason it should change.
It’s been almost five years since How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. Five years, people. When their last album came out, I had just graduated college and was living in Chicago. I still remember the day I bought the album, and walked around the city on my lunch break, listening to it on my discman. (Aww. Remember the discman?) That’s how long it’s been: The last time they released an album, I didn’t have an iPod. It’s been far, far too long. Welcome back, boys.
Video of the Day: No matter how many great songs they put out, I will never love another U2 song more than this. The great Stay, as seen on the ZooTV tour.
Retrowatching 