Joan Didion: The Center will not Hold

My story always starts with knowing that I wanted to be a writer at age 5. Joan Didion recalls her mother giving her a notebook and telling her to write, and writing her first story at age 5. Something much more elaborate, and even ironic, in comparison to my stapled together books of pictures, admittedly only just beginning to learn my letters at that age. What strange memories we each have.
I read my first book by her just last week. The White Album, and admittedly, did not like it much. Writing about the 60s, a time I so desperately have been trying to understand. Even she could barely put it into words. Instead, it became an anthology of essays. But she is incredibly well known. I find pictures of her when she was younger to be absolutely gorgeous. A woman who doesn’t seem to care what she looks like, either wearing dark sunglasses, or a stoney, detached expression. I have had one of her books on my shelf since college. A Year of Magical Thinking. Untouched for years because I’m not sure I am ready to read it, but kept in posession because of its poetic beauty. Not necessarily the words, I have yet to experience those, but the context surrounding it. As she wrote about, and essentially processed the sudden death of her husband, her life partner, her other half, upon finishing this book, her daughter unexpectedly died. This beautiful daughter she adopted and raised and loved. She later went on to write about her. Those closest to her believing as a way to process. And as she is being interviewed for this documentary, you see a frail and withered woman. Such contrast to the strong woman who went to El Salvador to report on the country itself, as well as America’s involvement with it. But what was most magical about this documentary was the audio overlay of her reading exerpts of her pieces. Read in a strong voice you almost can’t reconcile with the woman who is reading it. Read in the way she hears the words in her own mind. With her pace and emotion. In a way, she appears detached from the world around her, but it is that that helped her so brilliantly write about it.

Feminist Friday!

School has been stoking my passion. I feel small, but I feel so, so deeply about human rights and equality. So I’d been scrolling through the streaming apps for good looking documentaries. And then, in true Rose fashion, I realized that two I had chosen, on two different apps, were by the same director.

Rayka Zehtabchi, an Iranian-American film maker. I remember when her short documentary, Period. End of Sentence., won the Oscar for Best Documentary, short subject.


Period. End of Sentence., is extrordinarily eye opening at first. About a small village in India, where the mere mention of menstruation is considered taboo. When asked, the villagers don’t even seem to fully understand what a period is. Women grab whatever cloth they can find, run far away to change it, and wait until nightfall to dispose of the soiled clothes. This seems almost unthinkable by American standards, as well as terrifyingly dangerous. And so, a machine is donated to the village, and the women are taught how to mass produce their own pads. Not only do they then embrace what makes them women, they also become stronger, independent women.


A Woman’s Place follows 3 women in the food industry. All three had gone to culinary school, where a woman’s place was in pastry. The expectation that women have more delicate hands and patience for pastry. It was not what any of these women wanted to do. One woman described the kitchen as being like a pirate ship. Towel snapping, cussing, and everything is a penis. Like being someone of colour, these women had to fight twice as hard to be seen as equal in the kitchen. They break the mold and prove how strong and how astounding and how dedicated women truly are.

Women are not just beautiful ornaments for the pleasure of others. They are not just delicate creatures fit for delicate tasks. They are beautiful, and delicate, and they are smart, and hard working, and strong, as any man.

Jeremiah Tower: The Last Magnificent

What an intruiging human being. Jeremiah Tower, a food innovator, pioneer of the Great American Cuisine. He grew up alone. His affluent parents neglected him. In one striking moment at age 6, he recalls feeling let down by them when after hours and hours away, he found them in the hotel bar drinking and schmoozing. It was a moment he closed his heart off and decided to never put his faith in other people. But those moments of neglect allowed him to discover food. The innumerable fancy dishes with french names. Food became the balm that soothed his wounded heart. Food became his companion. And as his parents moved from country to country as globe hopping gypsies, his palate was allowed to develop. After college, he got his first cooking job, working alongside Alice Waters at Chez Panisse. It was there he discovered the power and awe of his own brilliance and creativity. And, quite possibly, his own darker side.
He became such an icon because he wasn’t afraid to break the mold. He was a handsome, charming, magnetic individual, and he shone. But an upbringing such as his must obviously come with deep psychological issues.
This documentary, while produced by, and featuring interviews from Tony Bourdain, feels much like an episode of any of Bourdain’s shows. In the beginning interviewees reflect on a time when Jeremiah simply dropped off the map and no one had heard from him. His first line, an audio overlay as we see him, an old man, walking among deserted ruins somewhere in Mexico, “I have to stay away from human beings, because somehow, I am not one…”

Roadrunner: A Film about Anthony Bourdain

I think everyone knows how highly I hold Tony. This was an exercise in wiping tears, dabbing nose, clearing throat. Wiping tears, dabbing nose, clearing throat. Wiping tears, dabbing nose, clearing throat…
Honestly, this was not information I was unfamiliar with, as I’m sure the film wanted it to be. What? Tony was a PERSON?! But this, I already knew. I have followed him for decades and knew how to read between the scenes.
What got me, were the candid moments. The moments that took a well put together room, and added the dust and the dirt to the corners.
And yes, the moment Eric Ripert’s face came on screen, first, painfully looking off screen, I broke. The way an egg does. The way you tap tap tap it on the counter top, til finally it cracks. How Eric must have felt that morning… expecting routine breakfast with his best friend, and then being the one to find him…
I went for a second beer. The woman apologized for such a slow pour. I waved her off, “I am tearing up, I need a break from the movie…” silently cursing her for making me miss minutes of his life…
And perhaps two beers directly after work on an empty stomach wasn’t the brightest idea. But I adored this man. This was the premier showing and I wasn’t going to miss it. This man awkwardly stumbled through life, and when his foot hit the ground, he took you with him through the world. He was, as his producer said, tall, handsome, and incredibly geeky. He geeked about what he felt strongly about, and that’s why he was so well loved. Thats why I ran, to get a seat, because the theater was full. He touched people. He showed us the world through his eyes. They showed the pivital moment, that I remember, in which Tony wants to help. He buys out a womans food cart stock and gives it to the hungry children just outside of camera shot. And it becomes chaos. There was no way he was going to be able to feed the mouths of the hungry. And a little piece of him changed in that moment. It was no longer just about food. It became about opening our eyes to the world. And we followed him, because he so genuinely cared. “Do you feel unfortable?” a man who has lost both his arm and his leg asks. The sole bread winner and provider of his family. After a thoughtful pause, Tony responds, “no. I think I owe it to the world to show this.”

Feminists: What were they Thinking?

In middle school I took a Home Ec class. I don’t recall if grades really mattered much in middle school, or if I even did well. It was considered an easy class, and both boys and girls took it. It’s easy to look back on it today and realize how stupid and outdated a class like that is. How sexist. I love cooking, but I remember it wasn’t until taking Home Ec that my brother started his career in cooking.

I live in an age where it’s easy to forget the struggles and inequality between men and women. To take for granted the ability to forget, even for a moment, and all the voices that brought us to this point.

We still live in an age built on and shaped around struggles. Gender, Race, Religion. And I can’t turn my eyes from it. I am a non-white female, in a largely white male society, and I fight everyday for my place.

But I am still priviledged, from the women in China criminalized for having abortions, to the women in Africa labeled Witches and hunted down and killed, to the women in Korea beaten by their husbands for not having dinner made on time. And these were also common occurrences here in America.

And while this film might be a little bit slow, it is brimming with the passion, and the pride, and the hurt of women who lived through much worse times than I will ever know. And fought for the equality that I can experience today.

When Tony committed suicide I remember a lot of people were shocked. They were shocked because he was “living the dream.” He got to travel the world and eat food. But the truth is, he wasn’t living a dream. Tony had a rough childhood. He became a delinquent. Somehow food saved him. Tony was an incredibly smart and passionate man. He got a foot in the door with Travel Channel and was able to begin doing what he cared about. Traveling the world and bringing awareness to the struggles most people don’t want to acknowledge. But through all his different shows, you can see him struggle. With Travel Channel he wasn’t given enough freedom to do what he wanted. He had a lot of different shows on their network, perhaps trying over and over to get it right. But I don’t think they probably wanted to see world struggle. They wanted to see bright colours, and food. When he finally moved on to CNN, you could actually feel a change in him. Finally, this was where he could really breathe. He was able to travel the world and show and talk about what really mattered to him. The politics and the struggles of the world. And if you really think about it, why wouldn’t he begin suffering depression. Probably simmering since childhood. Now there ten fold. How can one man power travel the world, seeing the struggle and despair and not feel powerless. And then come home to a nation actively destroying itself under the leadership of a narcissistic moron. He engulfed himself in tragedy. So, on June 8th 2018, when I woke up to a text telling me he had committed suicide, after the shock, and the pain, the soul crushing pain, I understood. He wasn’t “living the dream.” He was single handedly trying to save the world.

(This, of course, is just my speculation.)

Heres a trailer for the upcoming documentary about him.

Roadrunner: A Film about Anthony Bourdain

The Devil all the Time

What a… strange movie…

I waited a long time to finally watch this. I wont say it was bad. Definitely not an easy watch. Everything is so, almost accidentally connected, that im not quite sure what the resolution was.
It was a film directed by a guy you’ve probably never heard of, based on a book, by a guy you’ve probably never heard of, starring a lot of familiar faces, and produced by my guy Jake Gyllenhaal.
That being said, it wasn’t box office, smash hit. It probably appealed more to the indie gothic thriller crowd. I’m still trying to sort it out.
It’s based off a book of the same name, by Donald Ray Pollock, and the movie is narrated by the same man. Something about his slow, soft voice sort of fits the time frame. Matched with radio tunes from the 60’s. Along the backdrop of the Vietnam War. The whole thing felt very Stand by Me, but bigger, more adult. A weird, gritty sort of coming-of-age for Tom Holland’s character.
But don’t mistake this for some Lollypop, Cherry Cola 60’s story. This is anything but that. It is also very strange. And disappointingly incredible. The acting was superb, the atmosphere was gritty, and in truth, the director did an exceptional job.
On the surface, it all sort of feels pointless. If only he hadn’t sat at that particular bench at the diner counter, maybe none of this would have happened. But it’s not a story about what happened, so much as a story about who it happened to.

Brain on Fire

I had been hoping this film would be more psychology. But it turned out to be more medical. Medical mystery. It was basically a feature film length episode of House. Without all the great House doctors…
In truth though, it was pretty serious. And scary. A rare form of encephelitis. The symptoms of her disease were presenting as psychosis, and as her medical tests were all showing healthy young girl, she was pretty much set to be transferred to a psych unit.
At the end of the film she asks how many people with this disease have been misdiagnosed as schizophrenic, or bipolar. As a writer and a journalist, her boss asked her to share her story, to bring more awareness. And so she did.

Tell Me Who I Am

I’m still trying to figure out my feelings on this story.
What do you do? What do you do when you and your twin have had a horrible, tramatic childhood, and then one day your twin wakes up with no memory. All he knows is you. And he needs you to tell him who he is. This is your chance, your one grace, to give him the gift of a wonderful childhood. But at what cost?
Twins have always been weird to me. Movies about twins are kind of weird. But in the world of psychology, twins are mecca.
This movie, admittedly, felt less psychology than I was hoping for, and more moral dilemma and personal journey. But the story is still intriguing, and uncomfortable, and touching.

Another Round

I’m not really sure where to start.
A quartet of washed up, middle aged school teachers decide to conduct an experiment.
The film starts with what I can only assume is a common Denmark drinking game. Two people grab a crate of beer and begin running around a lake. At each bench, they are to down a bottle of beer and keep going. Penalties if you vomit. But, if I understood correctly, the penalty is waived if you and your partner both vomit.
On a whim, the four men discuss the theory posited by Norwegian psychiatrist Finn Skårderud, that a blood alcohol level of 0.05% will make one more creative and relaxed. After an emergency meeting held for Martin, played by Mads Mikkelsen, in which his students and their parents express concerns that they are not learning anything in his class, and thus at risk of not passing their graduation exams.
Thus begins the illconceived psych experiment by four middle aged men to see if drinking alcohol increases their performance.
One can see where this might go. And obviously there is so much wrong with this idea. But in the name of Churchill, and Hemmingway, is there something to alcohol and brilliance? And as ridiculous as it sounds, it really was a well done film. The director, Thomas Vinterberg, known for films you probably haven’t heard of, has been nominated for the Oscar for Best Director.
While the film seems like it is going to be jokes and drunken ridiculousness, and indeed there were some wonderful drunken scenes, it is also a serious film. It isn’t shy about showing how alcohol and alcoholism can be destructive when not under control.
But honestly, the greatest thing I think I took away from this film was: I wish I had graduated high school in Denmark.

Promising Young Woman

I really have to say that, I think this was an absolute near perfect film. The story, while somewhat extraordinary, is one we don’t hear enough of.
A young girl is raped while in college, and nobody believes her.
This story happens far too often. One summer I did some extensive reading on rape injustice. From universities, to the army. All covered up so someone can save face. Football players who got off easy so they could keep playing. Army soldiers handed down light justice to keep the platoon together. And always, the woman was treated as a liar or the cause of the problem.
This film is just uncomfortable enough to make you sit up and watch. You want to like these characters, to almost root for them, but then you remember that they are not good people. You want to be shocked by the main character, Cassie, this avenging angel, but you can’t. The prime characteristic of a psychopath, the thing about them that makes your skin crawl, is their absolute lack of remorse or feeling. Cassie feels almost too much. And it is that well of emotion that keeps you on her side. Her heartbreak, and her hatred, and her loneliness.
This is a film for women who hate men. This is a film for women who fight for equality. This is a film that will make you hug your daughters. This is a film for anybody who believes in justice. In an odd way, this is a sort of vigilante superhero film.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Another Black America struggle film, veiled in the jug band notes of blues music. Based on a play by August Wilson, about the real blues singer, Ma Rainey. This film plays like a stage play, with it’s various small room settings and deep monologues. The style of acting feels more suited to the stage, than the big screen.
Truth be told, the story is simple, if a little boring. I felt it hard to find myself backing any character, because they neither seemed wholly good, nor wholly evil. While they are all slightly broken from one White America experience or another, none of them seem really to be fighting for the cause. Levee, the young horn player is driven by his desire to make exciting music. With both his parents torn away at a young age, he struggles with being a proud, strong black man, and the understanding that to go anywhere in life, he needs the white man to open the door for him. And Ma, the strong woman whose unique voice has given her some recognition. Her voice is her leverage. As opposed to Levee who needs the white man to pay his ticket, the white man needs Ma to make their money. And Ma knows this.
It sounds more dramatic than it ends up being. Or maybe I lost focus somewhere. But what people will watch this film for are the two leads. Viola Davis as Ma, the large, demanding, woman with sweat between her breasts, and dark makeup smudged around her eyes. A woman who’s going to be told what to do by no one. And Chadwick Bozeman, known for being the sexy prince of Wakanda in Black Panther. This was his last film. Critics commend him for both throwing himself into his work right up until the end, and particularly this role, for literally giving it his all, because he knew he had nothing left to lose.
People will watch this film for him. He is shockingly skinny compared to his buff super hero role. But his acting is lacking for nothing. I always believe that when an actor no longer becomes recognizable to me as their real life identity (not necessarily just visually), that they have maximized their acting potential for that role. In essence, done a stellar job. And not once did I see Chadwick Bozeman acting the part of Levee, the horn player. From the very first moment he enters the screen, he simply is Levee.
He was posthumously nominated for the Oscar for Best Lead Actor. While he is up against some stiff competition, I have a fear that the Academy will feel pressured to award him. There will also be pressure to award Steven Yuen, the first Asian American to be nominated for Best Actor, now due to the growing publicity of the increased Asian Hate Crimes since last March.
Pressures aside, his role was phenomenal. A testiment to what the world was robbed of on August 28th last year. If you watch this film for nothing else, watch it for him.

The Trial of the Chicago 7

I think this probably ends my 60’s era civil rights movie fest. Not because it was bad, but because it’s all so heartbreaking.
Watching Muhammad Ali refuse to be drafted because he honestly had no idea what the war was even for. Watching Malcolm X raise his voice for equal rights and to be murdered infront of hundreds of people with no clear answer as to why. Watching people like Fred Hampton fight for black equality and be murdered for it.
This movie, touches on all of that. This movie is shaped by all of that. At first I felt a little bit shocked and offended that there was so much humour at the beginning of this movie, when it is such a serious situation. But it lulls you in. The humour is almost what builds the characters for you. Such a vastly differing group if people all on trial together.
And it was all just a show, and kind of sickening.
I want to have more words for this movie, but I’m really not sure what to say. So I suppose, simply put, it is a powerful story.
It seems like through this all, the theme is that everyone has a voice, and that we should all find the strength to use it, even when the chips are stacked against us. Because what we all know, absolutely know, to be right in our hearts, is worth standing up for.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League

I did it! Snyder Cut achieved ✊🏼.
I maintained strength and never laid eyes on the blasphemy called Justice League. I had faith in my heart of hearts that such travesty would be corrected. And thus was born The Snyder Cut.
Long as heck. And I am somewhat conviced that at least an hours worth of the film is in slow motion. Not Flash style slow motion, there was plenty of that, this was dramatic moment slow motion. Alot of it. And truth be told, I do believe this film would be amazing on the big screen. Despite the fact that Snyder chose to present it in 4:3. I’m not even sure that anyone even still owns a 4:3 tv…
One thing I think this film had going against it was, as opposed to The Avengers, that had plenty of preceeding films to set its characters up, this film had to introduce a lot of characters in a short period. And don’t get me wrong, I think it did an adequate job of it. Unless my own personal knowledge of each superhero biased my opinion on that.
I will say that to watch this film, you really need to watch Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice. I know that you don’t want to, I know youre dubious of Ben Affleck playing Bruce Wayne, but you have to just suck it up and do it. It may be 3 hours of your life, but otherwise you will feel like you have been dropped into an episode midseason of Game of Thrones. Good luck. And lets be honest, Ben Affleck is no Christian Bale, but he’s really not bad. Have faith in Snyder, Dawn of Justice was his set up for the much awaited Justice League. (And I waited for a long time.)
There are no small characters here. Everyone has an important part to play, and they play it to their maximum.
The epic 4 hour film is broken up into some 6 chapters, though there doesn’t really seem a point to each break, they are likely for ease of bathroom breaks and snack replenishment. The “epilogue” proved confusing to me, but clearly is a whiff of something more to come.
I enjoyed it. I love when forces come together for a greater good. Slow motion scenes and all. Perhaps they are in excess to remind us of every moment. To experience every moment, because you never know when you’ll lose your chance. Snyder stepped away from this project due to personal tragedy. It is commendable that he came back to finish it, to see his vision through. In some ways, perhaps he showed a bit of his own superhero strength.

The Father

What an absolutely astounding film. With a stellar cast.
This film, about a man, Anthony Hopkins, as he goes through dementia. What makes this film so amazing, is that you go through it with him.
Originally based on a French play, you get that flavour. With the limited scenery. And I feel that that absolutely lends itself to the film. When rooms change, you feel the confusion and unfamiliarity. Yet, still feel something familiar.
Earlier this month, I watched the Colin Firth, Stanley Tucci film Supernova, also a film about a man going through dementia. What Supernova did was pull at the heartstrings for those who are left behind, lost in the deteriorating mind while still standing right there. The Father brings you into the very fear of the person experiencing the dementia.
I have always had a tender spot for dementia and alzheimers, knowing that it is in my family. I have always empathized with those moments when one opens their eyes and have no idea what they are seeing.
When I was 10, I remember my aunt and uncle went to visit my grandparents in england. My grandad had been diagnosed with alzheimers, and I recall my uncle recounting to us my grandad walking into the kitchen and yelling because he didn’t know who my uncle was. I was terrified, if he couldn’t recognize my uncle, who had been married to his daughter for years, how would he ever know me, who he had only met a handful of times?
This film is a nugget that one might easily overlook, but for the mental health field, and for anyone, absolutely anyone who has a mother, a father, a grandparent, that they love and care for, this film will open your eyes to the struggles that will, without a doubt, come. But one has to remember that they are still the person you love.
When my grandad walked into the kitchen I braced myself. He took one look at me and said, “well hello there my little love.”