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I would like to tell you about my three favorite movies. I was recently re-acquainted with one because Netflix was streaming it. I had forgotten how much I loved that film. So, without further ado, my three favorite movies are The Shawshank Redemption, Men In Black and Antonia’s Line. You probably know the first two, bein’ big Hollywood-type movies and all. I became familiar with Antonia’s Line while watching the 1996 Oscars. That really famous tearjerker The Postman was nominated for Best Foreign Film. I loved it and I thought it was going to win for sure. And then this other film, this unknown Dutch film, comes in and wins the award, and I was all like, “Wait… what?” Flash forward about a month. I’m in Massachusetts with my mother for a long weekend. We had a evening with nothing planned, so we decided to go to the indie/foreign movie theater, where Antonia’s Line was playing. I saw it, and I then agreed that it was the Best Foreign Film of the Year, definitely the best film I saw that year. It’s a Dutch film that takes place in a rural farming village, and it tracks the life of a woman named Antonia and her family over about fifty years. You get to know the other villagers and their idiosyncrasies, as well as Antonia and the people that swirl in and out of her storied life, kind of like a maypole dance. I was in high school when I saw it, and unlike most American films of that time (and this time as well, who are we kidding) there was no puritanical undertones of any kind. This movie starts right after WWII, and people do things that are frowned upon still now (getting pregnant out of wedlock, homosexuality, etc.) and the most of the characters in the film are okay with this. This blew my mind. I was so accustomed to Hollywood’s standard punishment of the sinners in all their films. This was like a revelation. The other great thing about Antonia’s Line is that I would say about six characters don’t talk. They just don’t have any lines, or just one line. But they are integral to the story line and they really stir up emotions in you. As long as it is streaming on Netflix, I recommend you watch it. And you might want to watch The Shawshank Redemption and Men In Black again too, while you’re at it.

I saw Mongol, the epic film about Genghis Khan. I heard about it, people told me it was excellent, and it was streaming on Netflix, so I watched it. And while I don’t think I need to see it more than once, I’m glad I took the time to watch it. It takes place in Mongolia in the 1100s, when various nomadic tribes occupied the land. It’s a slow and temperate film, tracking the life of this boy who has a target on him at all times. There’s a lot of fur, a lot of animal hides.  Also, much trekking around in the some of the most beautiful landscape I have ever seen with no one else around for miles. Super-mega-isolated. The tribes are fractured and are constantly getting into little wars with each other, killing and raping and burning each other’s yurts and whatnot. Genghis Khan’s final goal is to unite all these tribes, which is where the film ends. (If you read the history books, he achieved his goal.) One of the things I found funny about this film was that a great portion of Mongol was characters meaningfully staring off into the distance, at each other, etc. When they did talk, it was short terse sentences. And a great deal of trekking across unforgiving terrain. Then there’s be a brief action sequence and it would be a chilly version of 300, with the slow-motion, the blood splattering in a circular pattern, clearly done post-production, squelchy fleshy noises, etc. It was like two different films meshed together. But check it out, if only for the scenic expanses of Mongolia and the cool music.

I also saw Clash of the Titans, and it SUCKED.  It sucked HARD. I was so very sad. I was looking forward to this film since I heard it was coming out, because the original Clash of the Titans was flawed. Specifically, the stop-motion animation was choppy, and Harry Hamlin’s acting was wooden. Like the Trojan Horse, it was. But I loved all the British actors rockin’ it on Mount Olympus, playing with the humans like they were chess pieces. And the story was clear and understandable. This new version, yeah, the animation was better, but the story was gone. You hear me? Gone. If I had to describe it to someone, I would say, “A bunch of stuff happened in no particular order.” On Facebook I called it as a baklava of disappointment – you peel away one layer of philo dough, and more sadness is underneath. And pistachios and honey, but mainly sadness. And never mind the completely non-existent plot thread, what the freakin’ hell was Liam Neeson wearing? It was mylar and silvery with big shoulder pads and sequins, and he had copious amounts of eyeliner and mascara. He looked like Gary Glitter. I couldn’t take him seriously for three seconds. By the time he said, “Release the Kraken!” I didn’t even care anymore. I was biding time until I could leave and go home and drink away the pain of this atrocity. Transformers was better. I know them’s fighting words, since most people think Transformers is a crime against humanity, but it was better. I hoping Iron Man 2 and Kick Ass will redeem my summer and save me from the cinematic abyss I just fell into.