8.23.2010

My faith in Hollywood is restored...for now

After reading so much ridiculous spin from big studios lately, about how they will only place bets on familiar franchises and less on original works, I was feeling a bit hopeless. Were we really destined for a future of Transformers 23 starring Shia LeBouf's great grandson and Spider Man 64 starring whichever actor is less high-maintenance than Toby Maguire? The fact that one of the studios even said that a lackluster movie franchise is cheaper to keep going than bombing with an original work with which no one is familiar is just sad. Are we really that stupid and boring?

So it was actually quite funny to read all the hype about Inception, the sci-fi thriller starring Leonardo DiCaprio and - in a "WTF?! But it works!" pairing move, Ellen Page of Juno famo (loved her in that). The WSJ had a full spread about how this movie was being closely watched to see how a completely original idea would do at the box office. Again, sad state of affairs when that makes news.

It wasn't until we heard a glowing review on my husband's favorite BBC podcast from film critic Mark Kermode that we decided to venture out. Now that we have Netflix on Demand, this was a big deal indeed.

And we were so glad we did.

This was everything a movie should be. The suspense and tension carried through the entire film, like the best of the Bond movies. Leo was excellent, leading a crew (like Ocean's 11 without the snarkybanter) of misfits who are hired to steal information from people's dreams. Think corporate espionage or the locations of hidden plans - that sort of thing. Then they are hired by an Asian oil magnate to actually plant an idea (inception) into a young scion's head about breaking up his father's global empire - their biggest competition. This is trickier and more risky than just stealing information that is already there, as it required going several layers deep into the subconscious (a dream within a dream within a dream). Things get further complicated by Leo's character's own subconscious demons, that often manifest on these "missions" and put everyone in jeopardy.

I won't give the rest away, but while it might sound really complicated, it's surprisingly easy to follow. I usually get lost with plots like this, having to ask my husband what the hell is going on. But they did a beautiful storytelling job of assuming the audience would buy into some of the more sci-fi elements without overexplaining them. This simplification and faith in our abiltiy to "buy into it" kept the plot nimble and clear. They could have gotten bogged down in explaining how it all works, but thankfully, they didn't insult our intelligence and thus avoided confusing us in the process.

The acting was fantastic. The alternate reality was completely believable and everything tied together nice and neatly to explain everything. For example, the simple explanation for how they get our of the dream is to receive a "kick" that revives them and brings them back into reality - whether their sleeping body is knocked over in a chair or dunked into a bathtub full of water. This device was cleverly used and explained as they had to descend into multiple levels of subconscious and provided the most intense suspense in the film. All without dumbing it down nor overexplaining the concept. You just had to accept this as it was and it worked.

I'm pleased as punch that Hollywood's test for orignality paid off so handsomely at the box office. Maybe this means insightful and smart storytelling and filmmaking is not dead after all. Hurrah!

8.18.2010

Stumbling Goat: Rockin' the Local Vibe


Had an amazing dinner at a Phinney Ridge gem the other night with friends - Stumbling Goat Bistro. Always on the lookout for new finds, we jumped at our friends' suggestion of hitting this place, after a delightful wine tasting downtown. Our friends have embarked on a month-long Eat Local experiment so we let them choose the dinner locale. What a treat...

My husband and I have gotten more savvy - as have many Americans - about where our food comes from. We are blessed on the West Coast, and in the Pacific NW in particular, to have such an abundance of local and fresh treasures. We try to eat organic when we can and, while we're not quite ready to go vegan like some of our friends (we love a juicy well-grilled steak way too much), we have become more aware and concerned with both how the animals are treated, the living conditions in which they are exposed and just what is injected into their bodies. I saw a documentary that talked about how the chicken you buy today might look like Grandma's chicken but it really is anything but, what with all the growth hormones and mass-processing chemicals. Yucko. While you expect some food to be bad for you when you eat it (Big Macs, Cheetos) I never realized what crap lies in my freshly grilled rosemary chicken, just by virtue of its provenance.

So with that in mind, we tucked into the Stumbling Goat. It's a dark (in a cozy way), funky little bistro with cool art adorning the walls and a friendly staff. So many things jumped out at me, I had a hard time deciding between one succulent menu selection to the next. The menu lists every supplier and farm from which they source their food and includes the website. Nice touch. This is also listed on their
Purveyors page off their own website.

A bunch of us started with the butter lettuce salad with shaved radish and onion, toasted hazlenuts and sherry vinaigrette. What a perfect balance of nutty goodness with a mellow yet herbalicious dressing. It tasted "just picked." Others chose the heirloom tomato salad with fromage blanc and fresh basil. This was a refreshing summertime treat.

My husband had the appetizer duck liver terrine with cherry wine gelee as his main course, and the rest of us ran the gamut from morel and asparagus risotto (a creamy slice of heaven) to grilled hangar steak to duck breat to heirloom bean cassoulet. Every bite tasted more divine that the next and a few of us traded nibbles to get a full sampling of all the bistro had to offer.

For dessert, we shared cherry chocolate creme pies (which was like an ice cream sandwich) and a homemade ice cream. I enjoyed the creme pies, but they were way too frozen for my taste - they could have done with some thawing out first. Throw in some fun cocktails - I tried a frefreshing pomegranate basil which was vodka, bruised basil, lemon and pomegranate juice - and two bottles of champagne, and the bill still came out to only about $120 per couple. Pretty sweet indeed for such good quality and so many courses.

I can see how, if you have the money and the access, eating local for a month may not be such a bad thing!

8.04.2010

Happy "Lifeday"?


Today marks my two year anniversary of surviving my brain aneurysm. Pretty damn cool. Yes, to answer your question, I probably will remember this day for the rest of my life. Well, the date anyway - I don't recall the day at all, nor most of the ensuing month in ICU.


Tonight, I'll be going to dinner with my hubby to celebrate life, luck, blessings and joy. I was touched that when, while running errands this weekend and enjoying our Seattle summer, I said, "You know, it's been 2 years on Wednesday. I think we should go out to dinner to celebrate," he didn't even hesitate but felt exactly the same way. "Yes," he said, "Let's definitely do that."


What makes this doubly awesome is that I had a follow-up appointment with my retinal surgeon on Tuesday morning. Dr. Kinyoun diagnosed me with Terson Syndrome when I couldn't see for 6 weeks in the hospital, performed the surgery required to "clear out" my left eye and restore at least half my sight, discovered my subsequent torn retina and managed us through the emergency retinal reattachment surgery while we were home in Columbus for Thanksgiving that year - and all the followup visits thereafter. I was seeing him every 6 weeks for almost the first year, and had not seen him in a year when I went in this week. We were genuinely happy to see each other: my hair has grown longer and I'm back to my normal weight and pallor. He gave me the "all clear" on any issues left over from the Tersons - my right eye had completely re-absorbed all the blood that was in the vitreous, levaing no more "rose petals" in my vision. My only issue now is a cataract in my left eye caused by all the surgical traumas, which is being monitored and seems to be holding steady.


Arriving to my appointment early, I went to fetch a much-needed morning coffee - in the building right across from the ER. Now, mind you, I don't remember the ER at all, but every time I walk by it, I shudder. I think about Paul arriving after the ambulance pulled in, the commotion that must have ensued when they rushed me into a scan room and then surgery, the smell of disinfectant and fear, the horror he must have felt at hearing a doctor say, "We've saved her life but we have no idea what she'll be like when she comes out of this." I can't even imagine him going through that alone. I'm his wife: I should be there for him during those times, but I obviously couldn't be. It tears my heart into a thousand pieces. While I am spared that painful trauma, he feels it any time we're near a hospital.


I watched the ER doors. Blessedly, there was not much going on that day. I thought of all the lives that are forever changed by that entrance. I could almost envision the ambulances racing in, the families aimlessly wandering around in shock, the countless people who lose their loved ones through that doorway each and every day. So much pain, so much loss.


But I made it. We made it. I regained my vision, restored my strength, got back to my business - and even wrote a book this year, published in June. Did I come back wiser, more thankful, more "aware"? I'd like to think so. Even when stress takes over and I'm overwhelmed (with my brain injury, this happens a lot more often than it used to - I can't process as much stimuli as I did before), I take at least a second to say, "You're still here. Nothing else matters as much." And I breathe again.


So I went to my appointment and then drove home. I snuggled with my dog, smiled at the sun and thanked God for not being ready for me yet. And then I went back to work.