Bigger is Better

It's no secret that I'm a fan of long titles in art. It's not the length in and of itself that is attractive to me, but the potential for a long title to transcend its being, its telos, and become something more. To become, in short, a story in itself.

Take this example, an upcoming movie with Benicio del Toro and Halle Berry called Things We Lost in the Fire. From what little I know about the film, I have no desire to see it; I've never liked Halle Berry much, and domestic turbulence is so played out (what can possibly transcend Little Children?). But the title is sublime. There is a story inherent in its six short words: a fire happens (metaphorically or not), things are lost, and someone survives to mourn those things. And it raises questions: What is the significance of these things? Why are we worried about things instead of people?

Also, just ordered a review copy of Denis Johnson's forthcoming novel, Tree of Smoke, which sounds incredible. Can't wait to tuck into it.

I'd like to see the Geico guys fight a woolly mammoth

Just saw this trailer for 10,000 B.C., and even thought it's from the director of The Day After Tomorrow, arguably the most pungent piece of shit ever to be put on film, I am so psyched for cavemen that aren't ironically hip and schilling for insurance companies.

Also, saw the new Harry Potter movie tonight and was pleasantly surprised. I'm not a big fan of the celluloid versions (love the books, though), but this one and Azkaban make the grade.

Ratatouille

Last night Alisa and I saw Ratatouille. I had been talking about it all week, but wasn't feeling in the mood for a kids' flick around 10pm on a Saturday. Even so, A.O. Scott called it an "almost flawless piece of popular art," so I couldn't find a good reason not to go.


My expectations for the film - already preposterously high - were not just met, but exceeded. I have not been so thoroughly entertained by a film since at least last year's Brick, or more likely, 2004's Eternal Sunshine.

We got to the movie a half-hour early, and despite a packed 42nd St. theater, found incredible seats in the ideal row. That set the tone for me. I'm probably the most anxious moviegoer you know. If I don't arrive 45 mins. early for a new release, I'll be clawing the taxicab leather as we make our way uptown. So finding a perfect seat and not arriving preposterously early was a bit like getting an Indian Head penny with your change.

After Regal's totally obnoxious pre-show "entertainment," and a few relatively obnoxious previews (including one for a new Cuba Gooding Jr. movie about camp, which looks as bad as it sounds), Pixar treated us to a warm-up cartoon called "Lifted," about an alien studying for his body-snatching license. It was much less creepy - and much funnier - than it sounds.

As for Ratatouille itself, there's not much to say that Sr. Scott hasn't already covered. Dir. Brad Bird (also helmed the The Incredibles, which I now will rush to rent) made a film that is both completely adult and a complete joy to children at the same time. It's also relentlessly upbeat. You know how in the third act, the hero must fall to depths never before reached, linger there for a while, only to eventually resurface? The depths that Bird makes his hero, Remy, go through are neither so dark nor - more importantly - so annoying as those in other kids' cartoons.

Five stars, two thumbs up, etc., etc.