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The Absurdist Spacecraft of ‘Inherent Vice’

December 12, 2014 in Book Matters, Film Matters, Reviews

If “The Big Lebowski” is the ultimate movie about stoners, “Inherent Vice” is the ultimate stoned movie. It’s nearly impossible to watch this surprisingly faithful adaptation of Thomas Pynchon’s 2009 novel without feeling high ourselves. But dig it, man: Resistance to the film’s addled charms is futile. This is director Paul Thomas Anderson’s most lavishly light-footed work since 1997’s “Boogie Nights.”

Joaquin Phoenix is Doc Sportello, a private eye with a heart of Hawaiian Gold, and it’s a role he was born to play (though Joaquin seems born to play every one of his roles, doesn’t he?). Decked out in John Lennon shades and muttonchops to make the Founding Fathers weep, waddling in a pelvis-first slouch with feet splayed in Huaraches, mumbling in a drug-fueled burr, scribbling inanities like NOT hallucinating in his reporter’s notebook, and forever “rooting through the city dump that is his memory,” Doc is the love child of Doctor Teeth and 1960s-era Elliott Gould whom we didn’t know we were seeking. He doesn’t really know who he’s seeking, either – which, though an admittedly odd quality in a detective, is perfectly in keeping with this shaggy spaceship of a mystery. Continue Reading →

Oates (and ‘Boyhood’) for Lunch

December 11, 2014 in Book Matters, Film Matters

Without a doubt, the headline news at an early December “Boyhood” luncheon at NYC’s Lotos Club was the New York Film Critics Circle Awards that the film won minutes into the event. As attendees swilled cocktails, the announcement came that Patricia Arquette had won Best Supporting Actress, Richard Linklater had won Best Director, and the film had nabbed Best Picture honors, confirming the coming-of-age drama’s position as this year’s Oscar frontrunner. But for some attendees of the event – including “Boyhood” star Ethan Hawke – the biggest news was author Joyce Carol Oates, who moderated a discussion with the film’s cast and director.

As Oates, Hawke, Linklater, Arquette, and costar Ellar Coltrane settled into folding chairs, Hawke, a published novelist himself, burst out, “It’s such an honor to sit with you.” (Several film journalists looked befuddled about the National Book Prize winner’s identity.) Oates, clad in her standard uniform of demure, dark garments, smiled quickly and dove into a discussion of the film, which was shot over the course of twelve years. Continue Reading →

Charlie Bucket Soup, Muppet Lady Chic

December 10, 2014 in Cat Lady Matters, Food Matters, Weather Matters

The day began charmlessly–cold and windy, with vast, horizontal sheets of hail and rain defying even the most substantial of umbrellas. It never found its footing after that, even though I’d donned the cutest bad-weather uniform I could find. (Blue rubber moccasins and a blue fur hat; Muppet chic at your service.) The whole time we taped our show I could barely feel my feet, and my clothing remained uncomfortably damp. Finally, I cried Uncle and retreated home to make a Charlie Bucket soup: a meek concoction of whatever was in my larder since I wasn’t about to go into that not-so-good night, gentle or otherwise. Cabbage, leeks, fennel, chicken stock, parsley, soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, ginger, garlic, sriracha. It was around the ginger that I realized this soup wasn’t going to be so meek after all. By the time I finished two bowls of it, poured over some rice noodles I’d found in the back of a cupboard, I felt like a person again–albeit a person in a flannel nightgown and fuzzy slippers, flanked by a permakitten mawing a dish of the same soup right there on the kitchen table. Afterward, I settled into an armchair with a novel, an afghan, and Betty Carter crooning to Ray Charles through the speakers, and I read by the light of a pink seashell lamp that any boyfriend I’ve ever had would loathe. It was all pretty great, actually. This has been my Cat Lady year, and I’m starting to think everyone should have a few of them. They’re so darn peaceful.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy