Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…
The Manolo is now completely smitten with the Argentine pop genius that is Hilda Lizarazu. She has that wonderful quality of defiant vulnerability and intelligence that the Manolo associates with the best of Chrissie Hynde. And her voice, it is so beguiling.
But, judge for yourself…
Manolo says, it is Tuesday in Buenos Aires, time to see what the Manolo is…
The Manolo has been in Buenos Aires for the little bit less than one week, and already he is in love with this place. It is spring here, and the trees on the street outside of the Manolo’s apartment are putting out the leaves. It is perfectly pleasant.
As for the shoes, the Manolo is most happy to report that the Crocs are nowhere to be found! Finally, the Manolo has escaped this pestilence!
In the Manolo’s upper middle class neighborhood, the ladies favor the practical, comfortable shoes, which given the sometimes lamentable condition of the sidewalks, is forgivable. For the young girls, the tall flat boots are seen everywhere. While, it is still cool enough that the sandals have not yet appeared.
Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…
The Manolo finally managed to see the Sex and the City movie.
His reaction: In the word, meh.
Although supposedly set in the present day, the movie seemed dated, as if it were the daguerreotype from the previous millennium, quaintly hinting at the outdated customs and obsolete mores of the distant past.
On the one of the hands, Carrie and her pals were sweeter and more vulnerable, more desperately romantic, than we have ever before seen them (although less funny). They were also more likable than ever, except for Cynthia Nixon, who should be dropped down the long mine shaft and left there until she realizes how truly blessed her cinematic life (with its great job, wonderful child, and good-looking if drippy man) is.
The girls were also, despite the smutty talk and Kim Cantrell’s absurdly sexualized character, entirely monogamous in their relationships, which was something of the relief to the old man Manolo, who believes that intense monogamous love between two peoples is perhaps the greatest of the Almighty’s gifts.
Yet, while there were good things, on the other of the hands, the movie dragged on interminably, piling up senseless subplots and meaningless details. Yawn.
Worse, the movie’s attempts at bringing the romantic longings of the characters (and the audience) to fruition were misguided and inadequate. Shaped as the semi-conventional romantic comedy, Sex and the City contained little that could be considered romantic.
Take for the example, Mr. Big, held up by the movie as the choicest piece of man meat to ever tread the earth, with his dyed hair, droopy jowls, shaped eyebrows, and his indecisive, dreary, somnambulantly sulky ways. At least he was rich, moderately available, tall, and rich (did the Manolo mention that he was rich? It was very important in this movie, the richiosity of Mr. Big, able to buy Park Avenue apartments and fill their commodious closets with swag.)
Query: What is less romantic than the vacillating, indecisive, weakly lover?
Answer: The movie that confuses wealth for romantic desirability.
Oh, how the Manolo wishes he could have swapped Chris Noth for Tom Selleck!
Tom Selleck: charming, virile, decisive, funny, cheerful, and at 63, still the hunkiest man in Hollywood!
Chris Noth in Sex and the City: drippy!
But, you must play the hand you were dealt, and Mr. Big is apparently the only man who would have Carrie Bradshaw, looking, as she does, ever more like Miss Havisham…
Ayyyyy!
I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had withered like the dress, and like the flowers, and had no brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes. I saw that the dress had been put upon the rounded figure of a young woman, and that the figure upon which it now hung loose, had shrunk to skin and bone. Once, I had been taken to see some ghastly waxwork at the Fair, representing I know not what impossible personage lying in state. Once, I had been taken to one of our old marsh churches to see a skeleton in the ashes of a rich dress, that had been dug out of a vault under the church pavement. Now waxwork and skeleton seemed to have dark eyes that moved and looked at me. I should have cried out, if I could.
~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations.
And frankly this is another of the problems of the movie. attempting to sell us lean mutton as plump lamb.
This is not to say that romantic comedies that feature middle aged persons cannot be good, and satisfying, and funny, only that Carrie wanted to play the part of the virginal ingenue, rather than the mature woman with the frightening romantic history. The potential for humor and romanticism was undermined by this insistence.
But, the Manolo is confident that the actor of Tom Selleck’s caliber could have convinced even the skeptical, disbelieving audience that Sarah Jessica Parker is the hotty, could have convinced us that she is the suitable lead for the romantic comedy.
Ultimately, for the Manolo, the only romantic scene in the entire movie was the wedding at the courthouse, with Carrie in the demure suit, and Mr. Big finally wakened from his movie-long slumber. But, if Sex and the City were truly romantic, that would have happened in the first act of the fifteen minute long, single reel film, which would be followed by the feature length Tom and Jerry cartoon.
Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…
The Manolo has this past week rediscovered and become completely absorbed and enthralled with the music of Tom Waits. Perhaps it is because the Manolo was too young the first time around to fully appreciate it, but he has found unexpected depth and poignancy in these songs.
Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…
Until this past weekend, when the Manolo saw the new Tropic Thunder movie, The Manolo had nearly given up on Ben Stiller. His act, once so sharp and funny, had grown stale and repetitive, and almost unbearably lazy with throw away movies such as Dodgeball.
But, with this new movie he has redeemed himself, for it is one of the funniest and sharpest movies the Manolo has seen in many months, indeed, it is the work of near genius.
Of the course, Tropic Thuner is not the movie for the faint of heart, but those who can tolerate cruel and intensely sardonic humor will be well rewarded. Both Ben Stiller and Jack Black are exceedingly good, and Robert Downey, Jr. gives what is undoubtedly one of the most confoundingly brilliant and funny performances the Manolo has ever seen. And even with that, the entire movie is stolen by (of all peoples) Tom Cruise(!), who gives what is the most exceptional and unhinged performance of his career, one that has honestly caused the Manolo to reassess his opinion of him.
So, if you are the person who loves the comedic acting, you must go see this movie forthwith.
Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…
The workings of the human mind are truly the mystery, no?
For several days now two songs have been playing continuously–round, round, baby, right round–in the Manolo’s mind. The first is the marvelously hummable “The Brotherhood of Man,” from the the quintessential 1960’s workplace musical comedy, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.
The second is, inexplicably, the opening few chords from Dolly Parton’s “Why’d You Come in Here Lookin’ Like That.“.
The mysterious brain part is that, as far as the Manolo knows, he has not heard either of these songs in the past few weeks, and yet there they are, on the continual reply loop in his head. And so, the Manolo has decided that the best therapy is to see the movie and listen to the Dolly, not exactly the onerous tasks.
P.S. When the Manolo hears “Why’d You Come In Here Lookin’ Like That,” in his head, these are NOT the mental images that accompany it…
Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…
The Manolo can watch Fellini’s Roma again and again, if only to see this amazingly surreal and amusing scene again and again…
Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…
Normally, the Manolo is not the gadget person, someone who must each week rush out and obtain the latest piece of technological gimcrackery, however, many of the Manolo’s friends have been recommending the tiny little mini-computer, the Asus Eee PC as being suitable for the boulevardier blogger such as the Manolo.
“It is light and small and can be easily fitted into your man bag,” said one helpful friend.
“The Manolo does not have the ‘man bag’. It is the Swaine Adeney Brigg document case!”
“Whatever, it’s perfect for you, Manolo.”
And so the Manolo purchased this little inepensive computer and it arrived yesterday. And now, today, the Manolo is sitting in the cafe, sipping the cappuccino, and blogging to you with his new machine. Yes, the Asus Eee PC is very tiny, and light, and powerful enough to surf the internets, but unfortunately, the keyboard is too small for the Manolo’s thick and inelegant fingers, and this has been terribly frustrating, as the Manolo is the touch-typer of some ability.
The Manolo suspects that he will use this new machine occasionally, but will ultimately rely upon his beloved MacBook.
Although, this objet d’art calls powerfully to the Manolo.
“Buy me, use me, love me,” says its siren song.
Manolo says, it is Tuesday, time to see what the Manolo is…
What can one say about Lacombe, Lucien except that it is the magnificent and magnificently troubling small masterpiece.
