Exceptional

To regular readers of WtD it is not news that I see a lot of movies. I like going to the movies, and I'm really not that picky about the films themselves. It takes a lot to make me dislike a movie.

Having said that, it also takes a lot to make me love a movie. It seems the older I get, the harder I am to impress; movies don't seem as thrilling and as moving and as completely involving as they did when I was younger. I'm not sure what that is about, but most of the time, I leave the theater with a half smile and a that-was-okay shrug, ready to get on with my business. I confess that it is always a little disappointing when the unspoken promise of the darkened house lights is undelivered and a movie does no more than simply entertain me for a couple of hours, but I manage.

Today was an exception. We saw Biutiful with Javier Bardem, and it was completely gratifying to me-- I loved it. In an interview with NPR, the director, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, explains that the film is a tragedy and defends its darkness:

...tragedy has some rules and those rules is about somebody who will be hit by destiny in every angle.
And while he is falling down, free-fall, how this character, with dignity, will find a way to redeem himself, to find light, to find a verticality in his existence and put everything together. That's what tragedy's about. And this film is that. It's an exercise. From "Medea" to "King Lear," to "Macbeth," it's just that this guy is not a king.

Don't be put off by the bleak premise. Biutiful is a smart, empathetic movie that addresses desperation and morality in the world today, and Javier Bardem's performance is stunning.

Ten Out of Ten

We saw the last of the best picture nominees this afternoon. Our viewing quest actually started last June, when we went to Toy Story 3, and  I blubbered my way through the entire film. Then in early July, we saw Winter's Bone, and you can bet I'm still patting myself on the back for calling that one. Like many people, we saw Inception last summer, too, and we also saw The Kids Are All Right, which I did not enjoy.

We went to The Social Network right after Thanksgiving and True Grit and The Fighter over Christmas. I can't believe I didn't blog about the girl-on-girl stuff in Black Swan when we saw it on New Years, but The King's Speech was on my mind on January 2.

So, when the nominations were announced last Tuesday, it turned out that we only had one movie to see of the ten nominated for Best Picture. It was 127 Hours, and I confess that I had been avoiding it. I got a little graveyard chill and my arm tingled anytime I even considered spending 93 minutes watching that gruesome story unwind.

But with 100% completion so close to my grasp, I laid my eight dollars down and braced for the worst. It was excruciating in places, but not at all what I expected. The director, Danny Boyle's last film was Slum Dog Millionaire, and his depiction on life-or-death adversity in this movie was a compliment to his earlier work. He uses montage, music, and intense sensory images to convey the harshness, but also the beauty, of the situations his characters must rise above.

Don't get me wrong-- I didn't really enjoy 127 Hours, but I guess I do appreciate being pushed out of my comfort zone-- it gives me stuff to think about, for sure-- so maybe you could say I did like it.

By that reasoning alone, I'm glad I saw each of the 10 movies which have been recognized this year.

Plus that's all of them! Ha!

Idiot Box

A couple of snow days and a new TV have combined to create a situation where I have watched too much television today. A bank robber shot dead, a young actor badgered into removing his shirt, the Kardashians, and Charlie Sheen dominated the day. I know better, but I guess I needed a reminder.

No TV tomorrow.

One More Science Fair Story

So before the weather refused to cooperate yesterday, our students were busy preparing to defend their science fair projects and answer the questions of the three random adults who were there to judge them. They worked in pairs and quizzed each other, starting with the basics and moving on from there, with varying degrees of success and confidence. As they practiced, I circulated, listening and making suggestions here and there. Eventually I got to one pair of boys. "What's your hypothesis?" asked the first.

"What is a hypothesis again?" asked his partner in return.

"You know-- your idea about what will happen," said the first.

"Oh yeah! My hypothesis is that I am going to rock this science fair!"

Now that's confidence.

All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

Six hundred science fair boards filled our cavernous field house. A few finishing touches were being put on a few last-minute displays, and everywhere, kids rehearsed answers to the judging questions. Clipboards, badges, guidelines, and refreshments were prepared for the 150 volunteers coming to help judge, when...

Our school was informed we would be closing two hours early for the winter weather on its way. We had 90 minutes to feed everyone lunch and get those display boards back to the correct science teacher. Yes. It. Was. Chaos.

Many of the surrounding school systems were either delayed or closed today, because of sleet this morning and fair warning as to how the storm would develop; if we had been, too, the fair would have been automatically postponed to the snow date, sparing many folks a lot of inconvenience. As it is, we're going to do it all again next Wednesday, which just happens to be... Groundhog Day!

(Cue I've Got You Babe to play us out.)

Science Fair Madness

Tomorrow is the all-school science fair and since every student is expected to participate, 150 members of the community have volunteered to come in and help our staff judge over 600 science fair projects in just under 2 hours. All the teachers on our team have been working hard to support the science teachers and make sure that every student has a board and is prepared to explain the experiment and answer the questions of three judges.

You can imagine how hectic it's been in every room and the hallways as students spread their 4 x 4 presentation boards on every available surface to cut and glue all the components in their proper places. Scraps of paper, scissors, tape, and glue sticks are everywhere, and kids commute back and forth down the long hallway that runs the length of our school to the color printer.

This afternoon, it was all hands on deck for that final push. The science teacher was in my room helping one student with his data table, and I was helping another make a bar graph from his data, when a third boy burst into the room. "I've lost my purpose!" he cried in panic. We shrugged and shook our heads without much sympathy. "But, but," he stammered, "I don't have a purpose!

"Well," the science teacher told him, "print another one." Problem solved.

Earworms

Lately when I wake up in the middle of the night and find it difficult to get back to sleep, I realize that I have a song stuck in my head, too. It's not always the same one, but it is always nearly impossible to get rid of, and it definitely contributes to my sleeplessness. In researching this phenomena, I've found that it is called an earworm. No one knows why it happens, and there is no definitive cure. The number one piece of advice offered is to tolerate those haunting melodies until they fade off on their own. Um. No.

Years ago I had a friend who swore that singing Sister Christian by Night Ranger would knock any song out of your head, but even motorin' through that little ditty hasn't helped. Focused breathing, meditation, prayer, none of them help to disrupt the phonological loop bludgeoning my brain. Today I read that music on a non-western scale, such as Indonesian Gamelan or even Gregorian chanting, might work, and I intend to put some on my iPod right now and leave it next to my bed tonight.

Can't hurt.