MOVIE WEEKEND: THE GREAT GATSBY

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

It is with great joy that I call to your attention The Great Gatsby (2013, PG-13, Available on DVD).

I approached this movie with great trepidation because it is based on my all-time favorite novel, penned by The Almighty F. Scott Fitzgerald. I couldn't imagine that anyone would ever make a movie based on this book that would please me, but Baz Luhrmann did.

It's 1922. Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio) returns from The Great War determined to find the girl with whom he fell in love while training to become an officer – Daisy, so beautiful, and in Gatsby's mind, the image of a perfect past he wants to regain. Daisy (Carey Mulligan) has married the wealthy and brutish Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton). Gatsby, now wealthy himself – through nefarious means – moves into a mansion where he can see across the water the green light at the end of the Buchanan's dock. Gatsby asks a mutual friend to approach his next-door neighbor – Daisy's cousin, Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) – to arrange a meeting between Gatsby and Daisy. Gatsby and Daisy meet at Nick's house for tea. Joy and tragedy ensue.

First, I'll tell you what I don't like about this movie. I don't care for the framing of the story with Nick Carraway in a mental institution because he's become an alcoholic. He tells his doctor the sad story of Gatsby and Daisy, and then writes the book, giving it the title Gatsby and then changing it to The Great Gatsby. (A bit of trivia: The institution is called The Perkins Sanitarium because of Fitzgerald's close relationship with his editor, Maxwell Perkins.)

Also, I don't like Joel Edgerton as Tom Buchanan, but perhaps this dislike is appropriate because Tom Buchanan is not meant to be liked.

What do I like?

Everything else.

I was worried that the score, which includes hip-hop, would be stupid, but it's not. It energizes the movie and helps it to move at the pace that it should: the pace of The Jazz Age, with bootleggers and wild seemingly endless parties at Jay Gatsby's palatial mansion. The costumes are beautiful. Carey Mulligan is fine as Daisy, though I wonder why she doesn't have at least a bit of a Southern accent.

But most of all I like – no, I love – Leonardo DiCaprio as Gatsby. I've never been much of a DiCaprio fan. I didn't go all googly eyed over Titanic. But somehow DiCaprio pulls off Jay Gatsby perfectly. Perhaps it's his air of mystery. I am particularly pleased with DiCaprio's accent. I recognize it. It is the accent of a man who comes from nowhere and wants to come from someplace special. It is an attempt at the accent of a man who attended prep school and Oxford and has had money all his life. He does not want to appear to be nouveau riche.

I will not be surprised if DiCaprio is nominated for the Best Actor Academy Award and wins it. It will be difficult to beat this performnce.

The Great Gatsby earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Superiority.

My only regret is that I didn't see this movie in a theater. I suspect it's fabulous on a big screen in 3-D.

I continue to edit. I wish you happy viewing!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Nick Carraway: Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... And one fine morning - So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

GONE EDITING

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I must edit. I shall try to return on Thursday for MOVIE WEEKEND.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

WOOTERISM DEFINITION

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Please allow me to introduce you to a word I have invented:

wooterism (noun) – something interesting, unusual, or amusing done by Willy Dunne Wooters.

Remember Willy Dunne Wooters?

What a sweetie pie.

Willy Dunne Wooters visits me and sometimes we go out on a nice date. Once we went shopping. I don't care for shopping, but shopping with WDW was fun.

Willy Dunne Wooters does not live with me. Willy Dunne Wooters has an apartment in a nice gated community in another part of our fair city of Jacksonville.

I visited his apartment once. I will not go back.

Willy Dunne Wooters has lived in the apartment for eight years. He has never cleaned the bathroom. Not once. That frightens me. I don't want to get caught at his apartment with a desperate can't wait another minute need to pee. He also had a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes soaking in water. About two weeks later he told me he needed to go home. He asked, Remember those dishes in the sink? They're still there. I need to take care of them.

So I think you understand my reluctance to visit Mr. Wooters. My house is considerably more hygienic.

However, when I was in Willy Dunne Wooters' kitchen, I noticed he had a dishwasher. I inquired: Why don't you use the dishwasher?

I just don't, he replied (he's not always a scintillating conversationalist).

Recently, though, WDW told me he has started to use his dishwasher, but not to wash the dishes. Instead, he stores the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and then takes them out and washes them by hand in the sink.

I had to ask. I just had to ask: Why don't you leave the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, add some detergent, and run the dishwasher?

I wash dishes by hand, Willy Dunne Wooters replied. I don't use the dishwasher – except to store the dirty dishes.

That was the only explanation I could get out of Willy Dunne Wooters.

Hence, Ladies and Gentlemen, this anecdote is an example of a wooterism.

I feel quite certain we can look forward to more wooterisms.

I don't understand the refusal to use the dishwasher, but how can I not love a man who loves dogs? And who claims to love me?


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FRANKLIN FRIDAY: I WALKED MOM!

Hi, Every Buddy! Hi hi hi hi hi hi! It's me! It's me! It's me, Franklin the Bordernese!

The sun is still shining here, but it's not hot like it used to be. It's bootiful outside. So I took Mom for a walk yesterday, and I bet I'll take her for another one today.

Mom is very well behaved on our walks. We start with me sitting like this:

Then Mom clips my red lead onto my necklace. My necklace has lots of pretty charms, including a red heart that has my name and address engraved on it, just in case I'm ever misplaced. I'm a high tech dog, too. I have a microchip inside me that tells who I am.

Here are my charms:

When my lead is ready, I go to the door and wait for Mom to catch up.

I make sure Mom holds the handle on my lead so she doesn't get lost.

Then off we go! Mom says, HEEL, Franklin. That is so ridicurous. I don't have heels.

I usually take Mom to the neighborhood park and around the neighborhood a bit. I'm proud of Mom, and I like walking her so every buddy can see what a good person I have.

Hey, I want to ask Mrs. Shelly about something. Mrs. Shelly! MRS. SHELLY! I know you're over there at La Tejana.

Mrs. Shelly, I wanna get up real close to you to whisper this question, in case it's a secret.

Mrs. Shelley, Mom says you have a new baby at your house. Will you please post a picture of him? We want to see him. I wish I could teach him all the important doggie stuff I know.

Well, I think that's all for now. I need to get some rest. My good friend Willy Dunne Wooters is coming over tomorrow to watch college football with me. We have a real good time together, even though I'm not sure what college football is. It looks kinda like a bunch of guys chasing a very big potato.

Willy Dunne Wooters can do this magic thing that lets him talk to the people on the TV, but he has to shout pretty loud so they can hear him. He especially likes to shout at the coach of his favorite football team. He yells, WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR? YOU DO THE SAME THING OVER AND OVER. YOU'RE WORTHLESS! ABSOLUTELY WORTHLESS. THAT IS SO FU

Oh. Mom says to quit while I'm ahead.

I'm gonna take my nap now.

And just in case you wondered, Willy Dunne Wooters loves dogs. He never shouts at us.

Okay I love you all bye bye.


Franklin the Bordernese

MOVIE WEEKEND: BEHIND THE CANDELABRA

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm still in the doldrums. These people are trying to interfere with my ability to earn a living, which I don't do already. Why make it harder for me?

At least I have a great movie for you this week. Today I present for your consideration Behind The Candelabra (2013, Rated TV-MA, Originally An HBO Movie, Now Available on DVD).

This movie was directed by Steven Soderbergh. Need I say more?

I suppose the answer is "yes". For those of you not up on your Soderberghiana, this man is the Academy Award winning director of Traffic, a truly great movie. Soderbergh has directed a lot of other great movies, too, some of them more artsy and some more popular with the commoners, such as Ocean's Twelve – is that the right number? Maybe they also made a Thirteen. Anyway, I saw Twelve. It has George Clooney in it, and it's cute.

Soderbergh amazes me because he serves as his own cinematographer. He shoots a movie, and while he's shooting it, he edits it IN THE CAMERA. The man can finish shooting a movie and have the complete product a few days later. I've never seen a Soderbergh film I didn't like.

This particular Soderbergh movie is very enjoyable. It's about the relationship between an aging Liberace (Michael Douglas), called Lee by his friends (if he actually had any), and a much younger man named Scott Thorson (Matt Damon). Damon wears a wig in order to look younger than his 42 years. He does look younger, but not as young as the real Thorson was: The affair began when he was 16 years old, but no mention of this age is made in the movie. Suffice it to say that Damon looks good.

Lee seems to fall passionately in love with Thorson. He insists that Thorson have plastic surgery so he'll look more like Lee. He promises to adopt Thorson and leave everything to him, but Thorson never signs the will. Besides, promises are made to be broken. A younger, prettier boy comes along for Lee, and Thorson is out.

I was surprised at Michael Douglas's ability to pull off a Liberaceful performance. Though not quite as effeminate as the Liberace I recall, Douglas takes on a flamboyant air and adds a slight nasal whine to his voice so he sounds rather similar to the pianist. Behind The Candelabra is just campy enough to be funny without being over-the-top ridiculous.

The cast is filled with stars. Damon is very good, as is Debbie Reynolds, who plays Lee's mother. Rob Lowe is Liberace's plastic surgeon, who has had too much plastic surgery himself (Lowe suffered from the uncomfortable effects used to create his look). Scott Bakula plays the friend who introduces Thorson to Lee. Dan Akroyd is Lee's manager.

This movie is so good that it left me with one question: Why wasn't it a theatrical release?

I found my answer on the Internet Movie Database (IMDb): In a January 2013 interview with the New York Post, director Steven Soderbergh said that this movie was originally planned for a theatrical release but was ultimately produced by and aired on HBO instead because the story was "too gay" for Hollywood movie studios: "Nobody would make it, We went to everybody in town. They all said it was too gay. And this is after Brokeback Mountain, by the way, which is not as funny as this movie. I was stunned. It made no sense to any of us."

Well, Behind The Candelabra isn't too gay for me. I love it. 

Behind The Candelabra earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval.

Happy Viewing!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. I forgot to mention that this movie is not for children, and you'll want to watch it with your teens, if they're even interested in it. Liberace and Thorson do some making out and fondling, but I don't think Candelabra has nearly as much sexual behavior as Brokeback Mountain, which The Hurricane loved because of what she described as "smokin' hot gay cowboy sex". What can I say? I raised interesting children.

THE LIE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I have recovered from my very nasty cold, and I thank you for your concern and good wishes.

However, I do not feel "right". Someone (a sort of business associate, not a friend) criticized my editing. What he wrote is not true. I'm terribly hurt. No one has ever said such things to me. I'm so hurt that it's debilitating – don't want to leave the house, don't want to take the chance I'll be hurt again.

I sent an email back to this person and corrected him, politely and forcefully. He did not apologize. Said nothing about it. What he said was based on lies, apparently told to him by someone else, who refuses to back me up and tell the truth.

I'll get over it. I always get over these depressions. But it's hard right now, so I'm content to hide at home. I feel worthless. I have never accomplished anything.

I wonder if that person would have criticized me if he knew how hurt I would be? I wonder if he would have criticized me if he knew I did the work for free? Why was it necessary to be so unkind?



I'm going to watch Netflix Screaming, which some people think is called Netflix Streaming, but I know better.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MOVIE WEEKEND: WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN YOU'RE EXPECTING

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today I present for you consideration a romantic comedy called What To Expect When You're Expecting (2012, Rated PG-13, Available on DVD or Netflix Screaming).

As you might expect from the title, this movie has lots of pregnancies and babies. It also has lots of "stars": Elizabeth Banks, Jennifer Lopez, Cameron Diaz, Dennis Quaid, Chris Rock . . . okay that's enough.

Some of the pregnancies and relationships between mommies and daddies go well, and some are more difficult. The women all look way too beautiful to be real. It's a bunch of pregnancy and relationship stereotypes.

This movie is mildly amusing. It's a good one for me to watch now because I'm sick and don't have much of an attention span. It distracted me, but I felt no need to laugh. I got a warm fuzzy feeling very briefly when babies were born, though, in general, I hate dumb, unrealistic labor and delivery scenes. If you just want a movie that's simple and doesn't make you think too much, then this'll do the job.

What To Expect When You're Expecting earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Okay.

I have seen two DVDs that I loved. I don't want to write about them till I feel a bit better because I can't do them justice right now.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

CHECK ME OUT ON BADREDHEAD MEDIA

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Before I came down with the illness that is trying to take my life, I wrote a guest post about editing for badredhead media at http://badredheadmedia.com/2013/10/08/need-editor-guest-janiejunebug/. The post is up, right now!

I hope you'll check it out and leave a comment that will make people think I'm smarter than I really am.

Thank you to Rachel, for allowing me to be her guest.

I can't help liking the name badredhead cuz guess who has red hair?

No, silly, not me!

The Hurricane!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug, who is trying to recover and not making any headway

SORE THROATS AND COUGHING AND ACHES, OH MY!

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

After pushing poor little Franklin to ask you to join in a Twitter Chat this Thursday, October 10th, because I was going to be the guest star, I've had to cancel. I'm too sick to do much of anything. I think canceling now is better than canceling Thursday afternoon.

Kate Tilton at ttp://katetilton.com, I'm so sorry.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Get Well Cards To Me:

You might not see much of me for a while. Notice, please, that it's "a while" and not "awhile," that abhorrent error.

FRANKLIN FRIDAY: MOM THINKS I STINK

Hi Every Buddy. It's me, Franklin the Bordernese. I don't feel as perky as I usually do. Mom is sick so she's no fun. Even worse, she keeps complaining that I stink!

I went outside Tuesday morning and I don't know how it happened, but I got all wet and dirty. Right in my own backyard. I don't go running around the neighborhood on my own like some dogs.

As soon as I went inside, Mom said, Franklin! You stink like poop!

I did not stink like poop, and I still don't. A little mud never hurt anybody. But Mom keeps wanting to give me a shower. Thank God she's too sick to make me get in the shower with her because I hate having all that gross sweet smelling shampoo rubbed into my fur. Then it takes so long for me to get dry afterwards.

So, do me a favor, please. Put your face up close to the screen with the light where you see a picture of me. Get up really close to the picture of me that shows my face up close and take a big, deep sniff. Then tell Mom there's nothing wrong with the way I smell.

She keeps following me around with a bottle of cologne and squirting me with it. It's so embarrassing. Please, don't anybody tell Miss Sophie about my predickerment.


Love,

Franklin the Bordernese

MOVIE WEEKEND: IDENTITY THIEF

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

This is the second week in a row that I'm going to present a movie I don't like: Identity Thief (2013, Rated R, Available on DVD).

I've seen two DVDs that I absolutely love, but I'm not telling you about them because I'm too sick to do them justice.

Okay, in this piece of crap Sandy Patterson (Jason Bateman) has his identity stolen by Diana (Melissa McCarthy). Sandy is so frickin' stupid that when Diana calls him posing as someone from something, I think it's his bank or credit card company, to "verify" information, he fricking tells her everything. All the stuff we're warned not to do, and you know what? I do stupid things, too, but this is just too stupid because Sandy lives in Colorado and he actually drives to Florida to pick up his thief and take her back to Colorado. Stupid road trip ensues.

I kind of liked one little somewhat heartwarming moment at the end.

Jason Bateman and Melissa McCarthy, you are too good for this movie. Do you need money that badly? Are you afraid that if you don't work all the time that you'll never work again? Don't you have any money from the TV series you were on?

I'm especially disappointed in you, Melissa, because you were Sookie on MY show, and you were really good. I realize that some of you don't know that I am the real Lorelai Gilmore from The Gilmore Girls, and The Hurricane is Rory Gilmore, except she's mathematician Rory instead of journalist Rory because newspapers are going down the toilet. Here's what I really look like:

I look good, don't I? Melissa, you played my best friend and chef at my inn and you were so sweet and nice. Why do you make crappy movies now?

Jason Bateman, I don't remember what show you were on, but you were very good in Juno, even though you ended up being not very likable.

Stop making these stupid movies. Just stop it. I don't think you should let kids watch this movie unless you want to show them an example of a bad movie. Besides, it's Rated R.

If you like this movie, then more power to ya. I want you to be happy. But with me, Identity Thief earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Crabbiness and Crappiness.

And, no, I wasn't sick when I watched it, but I'm sick now and blogger isn't working right. It's not fair.


Infinities of love and sickness,

Janie Junebug

WHY CAN'T I READ BLOGS?

Gentle readers yada yada yada,

I'm sitting here and I'm sick and I just want to distract myself by reading your blogs, but I can't. I read one blog and then I'm stuck in outer space. I click on another blog and I sit here and wait and wait and wait, and the next blog never opens up. I have to log out of blogger and log back on to be able to read another blog. I can't do that for every blog I want to read!

I'm falling apart and so is everything else.

Waaaaaaaaaaah!


Love,
you know

Update: I am now able to read blogs, but something has changed with blogger and I have to go along to get along. It's kind of like these new comment boxes. I'm very tired.

I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

My throat is so sore, but I can't stop thinking about IT:

SAY MY NAME.

SAY IT.



Warning: If you watch the video, you will see scenes from the final episode.









Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

WE DON'T FEEL SO GOOD

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Please pardon our whining and whimpering, but we have come down with some kind of crud. We must rest.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug