Campfyre Stories

We may have ruined the movie for some of the other people there.  Then again, we may have helped to entertain them. 

Six words sum it up for me:  Too much love, not enough cholera.

It was funny, though.  WAY funnier than I think it was intended to be.  Part of that was the melodramatic overacting, but I’m sure that part of it was that we needed to keep up our interest somehow.

In part, I blame Mike the Viking for telling me about how "some pink beavers have bling," which caused me to choke on my popcorn and not stop laughing until the opening credits began to roll.

No, I’m not on vacation this week.

Saturday: Shrek 3 with Spawn.

Sunday: Clean and purge and rearrange the house (spring cleaning).

Monday: Take Spawn and his friend to see Pirates 3, then to Mom’s for a barbeque.

Tuesday: Movie night with Princess (The Valet).

Wednesday:  Unsure, possibly ice cream with BG John.

Thursday: Joan Armatrading in concert at the Egg (with Mom, this is her Mother’s Day gift).

Friday: Weird Al in concert at the Palace (with Spawn).

Saturday: (Tent.) 28 Weeks Later with Princess.  Unsure, possibly ice cream with BG John.  Possibly also painting (rooms, not pictures) with BG John.

Sunday: Die from exhaustion.

Sunday: 28 Weeks Later with Princess.

Sunday Night:  Die from exhaustion.

Monday: Reincarnate or reanimate (whichever is cheaper/easier) and start my new project at work.

Boring, mundane, blah blah blah…  I’ll try to be more interesting a little later on.

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My ex-husband always hated that I call myself the FyreGoddess.  No matter that the vast majority of Fire Goddesses are goddesses of the hearth (some brief information can be found here), his concern was the infamy of fire GODS, many of which are feared by many religions - the Devil himself being one of them.

However, I’ve never really been all that supersticious when it came to devils or gods or numbers…  Friday the 13th has been good to me.  My phone number ends with the number of the Beast followed by the number of God and even my most religious friends still call me.

Ok, so here’s the deal.  I really want to see the Omen.  I never saw the original, though I should have by now, and I’m sure the new one isn’t the better of the two, so I should totally see that one first.  Problem is, no one wants to see it with me.  My regular movie buddy is taking a movie break and everyone else has said that it’s too scary for them.

Now, I don’t really like to see movies by myself, especially not new ones, because then I have no one to talk about the movie with, but this one…  on opening night…  and then walk home…  alone… in the dark.  Um…  yeah…  no.

So I have probably one person left who hasn’t yet said no, but hasn’t said yes yet either.  I want to go…  I want to see it on 6/6/6, but I’m just enough of a girl about this one that I can’t do it by myself, no matter how independent and rational I claim to be.

Not and walk home alone after it’s over.

For the past and next couple of weeks, Princess and I have all our movies picked out.  I like this, since it saves us the trauma of trying to pick out what movie we’re going to see every week, but it also ensures that the movies we most want to see are seen while they’re still playing in the theater.  This is good when you consider how many good movies we missed because we saw something else or because we just waited too long.

Last week we saw Hard Candy because I had seen a review that intrigued me.  In a nutshell, this movie is a vengeance movie about a girl vs. a pedophile, and even with the artsy-fartsy description, you can tell there’s going to be something off about it.  I was first creeped out by the makeup of the audience.  There was one lone girl there, one couple, Princess and me…  and an insane number of men.  The five guys, many of them old, sitting in the front, the three younger guys sitting behind us, the heavy breathing guy, alone, sitting directly behind us, and a handful of others that I couldn’t see clearly, but there were only four women in the entire theater.  It was somewhat disconcerting.

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Although I had resigned myself to not actually seeing V for Vendetta in the theaters, finally there was someone who wanted to see it with me.  Right up until the last minute I was convinced I was going to have to rent it, but we wound up catching it just in time before it left the theater.

And boy did that movie piss me off.  I had read the original comic books (really original, not the graphic novel compilation) only a few months ago, borrowing them from Dragonmaker.  i was really impressed (and continue to be) with Alan Moore’s work.  I had heard that he removed his name from the Wachowski Brothers movie, but after hearing mixed, but mostly decent reviews, I was keeping an open mind.

But I don’t think that even having waited to read the comics until after would have helped, which was what I assumed would be the case.
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It’s quite the cumbersome name for a movie and, frankly, sounds rather lame, but once I looked at the cast, I was sold.  There were a bunch of names I recognized and even more faces I recognized, but that wasn’t the best part.

Let me start by saying that Princess and I have been on a most incredible good snobby art house movie streak recently.  It started around the beginning of the year with Mrs. Henderson Presents and, though I know I’m forgetting some, has led us through Inside Man and Thank You for Smoking.  These three were all fabulous and Thank You for Smoking was possibly the funniest movie I’ve EVER seen.  Both of us are constantly bracing ourselves for another bad movie to show up at any moment, but another matinee night came and went with a brilliant movie that we probably came really close to missing entirely.

Apparently the reviews have been mediocre, and I don’t know anyone else who saw this, but it was really excellent.  Not too long, very riveting.  Princess’ head exploded at the end with the most excellent, didn’t-see -it-coming twist that was thrown at us.  i spent a lot of the movie wondering who some of the familiar faces were, but especially so with the kids from the flashbacks, and then I went home to look them all up on IMDB.  That’s when MY head exploded.

The reason I couldn’t place the kids from the flashback scenes is because they aren’t kids anymore.  All of the flashbacks are from a short film by the same director/producer/writer made back in 1990!  I was trying to place the kids, but they were familiar to me as adults.  One of the kids from the flashbacks even had a minor role as an adult in the movie.

Princess and I are both hoping that the original short film will be included on the DVD when it’s released so that we can compare it to the flashback sequences.  This movie already rated pretty high with me before I learned about the short film and now that I’ve got more of the behind-the-scenes information I’m even more in love with it.

If it’s playing near you, try to catch it and, if you can’t, make a point to rent it on DVD when it comes out, it is WELL worth the price.

I’m not actually a flake, I just come off like one sometimes…  I blame shiny objects.

So someone decided to start worrying about me, since I haven’t been writing as much in the past couple of days, so I guess that means it’s time for a recap.
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So I skipped out on Brokeback Mountain with the girls on Friday so that I could party like a rockstar.  At least one person wants to claim me for the gay cowboy movie and another has already said that she’d go again.  The more I hear about the movie and how wonderful it is and how *everyone* loves it, the less interested I am.  You know, I still haven’t seen Titanic?  I don’t plan on ever seeing it, either.

However, I did wind up seeing a movie tonight, continuing my busy weekend, since being unemployed means that every day is Saturday.  I took the Spawn to see The Producers.  Now, many people have been shocked to learn that I had never seen the original, which is now on the Netflix queue.

Now, I have learned that movies at the Spectrum are touch and go with Spawn.  First off, there are not a whole lot of movies that are PG or PG-13 that I can take him to.  Secondly, even those are artsy, snobby indie flicks, so he doesn’t always like the ones I *do* take him to.  I left it up to him.  We looked at the trailer, I explained that it was a Mel Brooks movie (mentioning Spaceballs and Young Frankenstein, which he has seen) and let him decide.  He said “Let’s go.”  So we did.

And boy am I glad we did.  And boy was he glad we did.  It was GREAT!  I’ll leave the reviews to the ones who get paid to do it, but with stars like Matthew Broderick, Nathan Lane and Uma Thurman (all of whom I love ALWAYS anyway) how can you possibly go wrong?

I recommend it.  Next I’ll see the original, then I’ll see about getting tickets to the Broadway show…  it was really excellent.

~FG };^> 

(Only “Finish Reading” if you want to see proof of my movie whoredom and my “I have no life score” on a meme that came from MySpace.)

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