Movie Review: The Happening

Shyamalan Not “Happening” This Time

Don’t get me wrong. I am not one of those people who thinks M. Night Shyamalan is a geek who makes geek movies for geeks. I mean, sure, he’s a geek, but in the best possible way. He’s smart, funny, original and inventive. He shows up in his own films, which is kind of a hoot. Plus, his films always have an underlying message that makes for interesting discussion on the way home from the theater.

That said, don’t read the rest of this if you want to see the movie and be surprised. I have no compunction about spoiling this for you.

“The Happening” really let me down. Firstly, the message is delivered in a ham fisted way. Secondly, the message is laughably Politically Correct and trite. Thirdly, there was way too much gore.

The gore was the least objectionable aspect for me. I just closed my eyes after the lions ate the guy’s first arm. (Maybe that’s why I missed seeing M. Night in this movie.) My problem with the gore is that it’s a big departure from Shyamalan’s style. When you’ve seen five of his films, you know the man’s style – his brand, if you will. So, I go to see a Shyamalan sci-fi cum suspense film and see a gore picture: can’t help it, I feel like a victim of bait and switch.

The laughable Politically Correct message is that humans are destroying the earth with pollution. Now, I understand that Global Warming is the cause du jour amongst film makers. So I can forgive Mr. Shyamalan for falling in line. I think I’d have been okay with it if he’d used his usual airy-fairy-mystical approach. You know: Gaia/Mother Earth is angry with us (remember Captain Planet?) Or maybe it’s just the spirits of the trees that are fed up with us.

No, this time M. Night decided to go “scientific.” And we all know that means Evolution. Yup, the plants have evolved the ability to kill off their predators…that would be you and me, the evil polluters. Here’s the part where I actually laughed out loud: one of the TV commentators so prevalent in Shyamalan’s films says, because of the increasing threat from mankind, the trees “had no choice but to speed up their evolution” and develop human-specific toxins.

Oh really? I thought evolution took millions of years and was completely random. Now the trees are deciding, not only how to evolve, but how fast to do it. Please.

The most egregious flaw in this film is that it leaves nothing to the imagination or the intellect. Another laugh-out-loud moment for me was when Mark Wahlberg and Zooey Deschanel were fleeing the model home in which they had found brief respite. They conveniently run past a huge sign touting the virtues of the housing development. At the very top of the sign we read:
“You deserve this!”

Every story has an underlying message, even if it’s only in the world view of the author. I understand that. But if you want to entertain people, you have to tell a compelling story. If you want to enlighten, inform or harangue people, you preach a sermon. Story as sermon is a sure recipe for a flop.

Book Review: All the Way Home by David Giffels

All the Way Home

Building a Family in a Falling-Down House, by David Giffels

This is a must-read for anyone that has ever wanted to buy an old house and rehab it into a thing of beauty. We’ve all seen the interior decorating magazine articles and home decorating tv shows: the before and after pictures. That’s what snares us. The dreary before pictures and the lovely, completely harmonious, light filled spaces of the “after” photos. What a wonderful thing that would be, to transform a dark old hulk into the pristine wonder of the neighborhood.

This book is neither the before nor the after. This is the in-between: the reality of buying your dream home and the nightmare of turning it into the home of your dreams.

It is also the story of a Grown-up Kid coming to grips with being a Man who must provide a home for his family. The Grown-up Kid provides us with plenty of humor along the way. He’s having a blast playing with his tools, inventing solutions and battling wild beasts (in the attic, no less.) The Man gives us cause for concern: will his family survive intact? He has to somehow balance his family’s need for livable shelter with their need for his physical presence.

Giffels’ prose makes this journey from Kid-to-Man and Hulk-to-House a wonderful read. Just l

listen to this, about a trip to the giant home-improvement store.

I came here for three things:

1. a can of expanding sealant, that magical stuff;

2. another three bags of mortar because this much I’ve learned:

a single bag of mortar is a fool’s errand; and

3: possibly a hinge.

The hinge is a lark…It’s heavy and antique and I know I will not find one here. But I have to look.

Looking for something we don’t think we’ll find—this is an understanding we share here in the wilds of the superstore.

We are people afraid of what might happen if our lives became comfortable.

We are people who don’t know nearly as much as we want the world to believe we know.

We are fathers. We are desperate to understand our place among people who desperately need us.

Our ambition is complicated…

I’ve stopped now, between Lighting and Doors.

A hinge—is it “hardware” or “fastener”?

We do not ask. We seek and discover. We, in the aisles: we are seekers and discoverers. This is our frontier. This is what we have left.

My one complaint about this delightful book is the lack of pictures. How did this get published without pictures? I mean, really!

And this is why I love the Internet. I Googled Mr. Giffels and found this wonderful slideshow.

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2008/04/17/garden/20080417akron

_index.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

Now we can sit back, enjoy the before and after photos, and pretend it’s as easy as the television shows make it look!

Blessings on you!

Marilyn

Gardening for Sanity

I've been depressed. Not the "tears in my ears from lying on my backing crying over you" type depressed. Just the don't-wanna-do-nuthin' kind. The kind that makes you no fun to be around.

Finally, a helpful thought blossomed: You need to dig in the dirt!

You see, I'd been doing two things with most of my time: writing and studying. That's all well and good, but I needed some nature time.

So, last evening, I spent two hours in the garden pulling weeds, digging out a path, hauling gravel. When it was too dark to see, I came in and, while physically tired, I was emotionally revved.

This morning I faced the computer with aplomb, verve and - dare I say it? - happiness.

What is it about gardening that turns a sour hag into a serene matron?

I think it's largely due to the fact that I cannot think while gardening. Or if I do, it's in a very limited, detached way. My mind floats in and out, mostly out...and is occasionally yanked into stark awareness of the incredible intricacy of a fern, or the heady fragrance of a lily...I pause and marvel at the exquisite complexity of Creation.

And then I drift off into la-la land for awhile and come back refreshed.

And that is why we use the word recreation: it is Re-Creation!

What feeds your soul? What re-creates you?
And, when was the last time you took time for Re-Creation?

Blessings on you!
Miz Woody

Tim Russert: Gone Too Soon

Tim Russert was in my living room so many times, I feel like he was a friend.

Of course, his presence was electronic, coming through yon tube.

Still, he was so very alive – I mean, didn’t he just seem more like a Real Guy than your average TV talking head? Whether you agreed with him or not, he managed to charm you into watching him.

So, at 58 years old, bam! He’s gone.

And it feels like it’s too soon.

I’m sure his family and close friends feel it was too soon.

I’m sure he had a lot more projects planned.

I’m sure he’d have liked more time with his loved ones.

But, Tim Russert accomplished something huge before he was gone. He wrote his book, Big Russ and Me: Father and Son: Lessons of Life. He left his words, his heartfelt musings about life: what’s important, who really matters, what makes for a good man. That’s a big chunk of yourself to leave behind.

While it’s kinda’ cool that you and I can read his words - listen to his heart - long after he’s gone; what’s really cool is that his son can read them. And his grandchildren can read them. That’s huge. That’s a legacy.

It makes me think: what will my children have to read when I’m gone?

I used to write letters to them on their birthdays. I got distracted somewhere along the way and stopped. I think it’s time to dust off the old ballpoint and let them know who I am…who I believe they are…what really matters in the long haul, stuff like that.

Thank you, Tim Russert, for reminding us to use the time well.

Why I Work at Home: Reason 432

During my morning commute to work - from downstairs to upstairs - I paused to look at the backyard. I love gardening so I'm constantly checking to see if anything new has blossomed. My daughter came to stand by me for a minute and instead of, "Good morning," I said, "Oh, what's this?...It's a fawn!"

We stood enchanted for at least 10 minutes, watching a spotted White Tail youngster race around the yard. His mother stood just in the corner, where the tree line intrudes, making sure all was well.

When mother decided Speedy had had enough time in the open, she just disappeared into the trees. Speedy noticed within 2 seconds and jetted off after her.

My sweet daughter (whom, at three, resembled Speedy more than I care to recall)
said, "Well, that was nice." I replied,

"Yeah, that doesn't happen if you live in town...

...or have to go to work."