What a fantastic movie. One of the top three most satisfying movies I can think of, the other two being Lives of Others and Patlabor 2. It was an action movie who’s actions scene were driven by the plot and not the other way around. It never felt the need to be flashy, but it never felt slow.
There is a plot twist, but the plot doesn’t revolve on it like it did in the Sixth Sense. It could have been left it out completely, and I would have still felt it was a great movie. In a lot of movies, plot twists almost seem to be attempts by the writers to fool the audience or make the script appear more clever than it actually is, and frequently the twist is foreshadowed a mile away. That’s not the case in The Book of Eli – the twist is there purely for the enjoyment of the audience. I don’t think I’ve come across something like that before.
Keeping in that line of thought, what happens to Denzel Washington’s character at the end feels right, but, again, something very different could have happened and it still would have been fine with me – it’s not what happens to his character that matters but what his character did.
I’m really glad I saw this movie in while it was in the theater. Blockbuster movies, I feel, don’t really need the immersion that a theater provides. Loud explosions and flashing lights – there’s simply too much happening to keep track of at once. But hearing the sand blow across the road as Washington walks across the wasteland – the stillness draws you in.
Beyond the technical merits of the movie, what really drew me in were the themes of the movie. I’ve always been more interested in what a movie is trying to say than anything else. And what this movie is saying is interesting and refreshing. Warning, some spoilers follow:
Intended to get to Natural History Museum around 6. Assumed it was going to be open because their website listed activities until 8pm, but it wasn’t. Completely closed up.
Salvaged the situation by going to Chinatown, which had been tentatively scheduled for the next day.
Mostly followed the advice of Kat, who suggested we walk up and down Mott Street.
Lots of weird fruits all over the place.
Ended up eating at a very popular Chinese takeout/sitdown place.
It was very popular with the locals.
It’s menu didn’t resemble Americanized Chinese too much.
Prices were cheap, and portions were reasonable. That meant no wasted food and no leftovers.
I ordered beef and bitter melon.
I’d read about bitter melon in Steven Levy’s Hacker, and the anecdote stuck in my head:
Chinese food was a system, too, and the hacker curiosity was applied to that system as assiduously as to a new LISP compiler. Samson had been an aficionado from his first experience on a TMRC outing to Joy Pong’s on Central Square, and by the early sixties he had actually learned enough Chinese characters to read menus and order obscure dishes. Gosper took to the cuisine with even greater vigor; he would prowl Chinatown looking for restaurants open after midnight, and one night he found a tiny little cellar place own by a small family. It was fairly dull food, but he noticed some Chinese people eating fantastic-looking dishes. So he figured he’d take Samson back there.They went back loaded with Chinese dictionaries, and demanded a Chinese menu. The chef, a Mr. Wong, reluctantly complied, and Gosper, Samson, and the others pored over the menu as if it were an instruction set for a new machine. Samson supplied the translations, which were positively revelatory. What was called “Beef with Tomato” on the English menu had a literal meaning of Barbarian Eggplant Cowpork. “Wonton” had a Chinese equivalent of Cloud Gulp. There were unbelievable things to discover in this system! So after deciding the most interesting things to order (”Hibiscus Wing? Better order that, find out what that’s about”), they called over Mr. Wong, and he jabbered frantically in Chinese disapproval of their selections. It turned out he was reluctant to serve them the food Chinese-style, thinking that Americans couldn’t take it. Mr. Wong had mistaken them for typically timid Americans but these were explorers! They had been inside the machine, and lived to tell the tale (they would tell it in assembly language). Mr. Wong gave in. Out came the best Chinese meal that any of the hackers had eaten to date.
So expert were the TMRC people at hacking Chinese food that they could eventually go the restauranteursone better. On a hacker excursion one April Fools’ Day, Gosper had a craving for a little-known dish called Bitter Melon. It was a wart-dotted form of green pepper, with an intense quinine taste that evoked nausea in all but those who’d painfully acquired the taste. For reasons best known to himself, Gosper decided to have it with sweet-and-sour sauce, and he wrote down the order in Chinese. The owner’s daughter came out giggling. “I’m afraid you made a mistake my father says that this says ‘Sweet-and-Sour Bitter Melon.’ ” Gosper took this as a challenge. Besides, he was offended that the daughter couldn’t even read Chinese that went against the logic of an efficient Chinese Restaurant System, a logic Gosper had come to respect. So, even though he knew his order was a preposterous request, he acted indignant, telling the daughter, “Of course it says Sweet-and-Sour Bitter Melon we Americans always order Sweet-and-Sour Bitter Melon the first of April.” Finally, the owner himself came out. “You can’t eat!” he shouted. “No taste’ No taste!” The hackers stuck to the request, and the owner slunk back to the kitchen.
Sweet-and-Sour Bitter Melon turned out to be every bit as hideous as the owner promised. The sauce at that place was wickedly potent, so much so that if you inhaled while you put some in your mouth you’d choke. Combined with the ordinarily vile bitter melon, it created a chemical that seemed to squeak on your teeth, and no amount of tea or Coca-Cola could dilute that taste. To almost any other group of people, the experience would have been a nightmare. But to the hackers it was all part of the system. It made no human sense, but had its logic. It was The Right Thing; therefore every year on April Fools’ Day they returned to the restaurant and insisted that their appetizer be Sweet-and-Sour Bitter Melon.
The bitter melon, by itself, tasted kinda bad. It was, well, bitter. It oddly worked alright if you are it with a piece of beef though.
I don’t think I’ll ever have it again. But it was really neat to try it once. It could have been downright awful and I think the experience would have been worth it.
Kat found her Bubble Tea. It was a bit alien, but interesting. If I go again, I think I’ll have to get a full cup for myself.
There were a number of candy shops as well, all full of exotic treats, a number of which I’m not sure were that appetizing. Dried fish candy?
But, in retrospect, I wish I had gotten something. You just don’t come across places like that in upstate NY.
Cosmopolitan moment. As we were headed back to the subway through Chinatown, surrounded by Chinese shops and workers, we were passed by a group of orthodox Jews walking in the opposite direction. Three very different cultures sharing the same space at the same time, even if it was only in passing.
The Ford Expedition is huge, and feels it. Has a good turning radius, but hard to take tight turns.
Ann directed us to an Afghan restaurant in Schenectady. It’s like Indian, but different.
The Poughkeepsie Line is a really scenic way to go into NYC. At least until you go underground into Grand Central.
The train emptied out at Yankee Stadium.
The Yankees were playing the Sox.
The Boston fan on the train survived the trip.
It takes a long time to get about in NYC, at least if you don’t know the subway and bus routes.
I think Julie could walk a hundred miles. She was really well prepared for lots of walking.
And she did it getting over a sinus infection. Trooper.
Hotel had a fire alarm go off on Saturday. Was in the shower and didn’t hear it. Once I got out, I heard it, but thought it was more important to put pants on than to get out immediately. Before I got dressed the alarm turned off and I figured I might as well get properly dressed.
Ann was very stylish the whole weekend. She took pain killers so she could wear her boots through the city. I’m impressed.
The Cloisters is at the top of a hill. There were buses that went up it, but we discovered it only after we had walked up the winding path. Didn’t feel too bad about it, though, as it went through a wooded park and we got a great view of the Hudson.
The Cloisters is beautiful. There is an elaborately created chapel right off the entrance, but it was crafted out of elements from different sites. Next time I go, I really want to take the tour so I can appreciate the context of all the elements.
I still love Grand Central Station.
Julie seemed to get a lot of sketching in. I’ll have to flip through her book next time I visit.
I discovered that I like a lot of the same things that the girls like for completely different reasons. They really were enthusiastic about the artistic quality of the various artifacts, but I’m more interested in the historical context they represent.
For instance, Kat noticed the fine details of two statues flanking one of the doors near the entrance. But what really peaked my interest (apart from the fact that they were meant to represent Clovis and Clothar, two of the first French kings and founders of the Merovingian dynasty) was when Kat noted that all the other elements of the entranceway, including religious symbols, were headless. This immediately implied defacement, and I began wondering what would have caused such an act. Maybe it was an area controlled by the English during the sacking of the monasteries under Henry VIII or Edward VI. Luckily, a tour went by just then, and explained it was the work of Huguenots, the Protestant French.
The Met was impressive as always.
But it seemed like a third of the place was roped off. What the heck. On a weekend?
Didn’t get to see the Byzantine exhibit, but I’ve seen it like a million times. Plus we missed the special Byzantine exhibit by a month or two, so all they had was the regular stuff (which is still pretty impressive).
Julie sketched a lot of armor there. Be interesting to see if any of it translates into garb for Novitas.
I still like the pushcart vendors, even if the girls thought they were sketchy. They are, but that’s part of the NYC experience.
I still have yet to walk through Central Park proper. I thought if we followed the road through from the Natural History Museum to the Met, we’d be able to wander a bit, but it was pretty much a man-made canyon, so we kinda missed it.
Even ridiculous concepts tend to work out well on stage. Toxic Avenger seemed a ridiculous idea, but worked out fairly well in production. It was campy, but the actors really threw themselves into the role.
Kat was right – the shifty cop was hilarious.
I was really worried when I saw just how close to the stage the tickets were – the telecharge seating map indicated they were farther back. Need to be more careful when buying tickets in the future.
But it worked out really well. We weren’t in the section that got wet, and even though I was worried there might be some splash damage, we didn’t get anything on us.
And, with the exception of the very opening note, we didn’t get blasted by the music.
And we got some interaction with the actors.
Speaking of which, Kat got a bit of special attention from the lead actor playing the Toxic Avenger. She seemed to appreciate it.
Ann said that she’s always had tickets reserved at the box office and picked them up just before the show. I think she’s right, that’s a better idea. I’ll need to do that next time.
At the last minute, decided to stop at Howes Cavern. Hadn’t been there since grade school. Very touristy, but neat. The girls seemed to enjoy it.
Along those lines, if you’re a tour guide, beware Ann and her camera.
Got back at 8.
Yankees swept the Sox.
Probably remember other things as well, but can’t think of them right now.
A little over forty years ago, a woman died. A favorite son of a powerful political family got drunk at a party, and drove his car off a bridge. He escaped the car and fled the scene without looking to see if his passenger, a young woman whom had attended the party with him (and was not his wife), had gotten out. He didn’t call for help, nor did he report the incident to police until the next day. The police said if they had been called within ten minutes of the incident, there was a good chance they could have saved her. An inquest determined he had lied about the events of the evening. He never served a day in jail. His only punishment was a suspended driving license for 18 months.
The WSJ has an opinion peice by Bjorn Lomborg, warning against the “Climate-Industrial Complex”. He notes that over the past few years, a number of energy corporations have begun heavy lobbying to form environmental policy that results in questionable environmental gains but are very lucrative to the companies involved. Part of that is engendering a hysteria around global warming such that the populaces will encourage their politicians to do anything, so long as it’s something. He notes that a company called Vestas, the world’s largest wind-turbine manufacturer, funds a CNN segment called “Climate in Peril”. One wonders what would be said of a segment called “The Earth’s Amazing Resilience” funded by Exxon-Mobil.
There is a lot of money in the ironically named Green movement, but very little actual environmentalism at the policy level. I have a nasty feeling that if the environmentalists like Al Gore actually have their way, the environment will actually get worse, and there won’t be anyone independent of the policy makers left to agitate for sound environmental policies.
