i know there’s a word for this
a couple months ago, my two brothers and three boy cousins were all assembled at my house and they wanted to see a movie. master and commander had just opened and, noting my audience, i suggested we go see it. nuts to that, they responded in one voice. let’s see the station agent!
as it turned out, the station agent was a sweet, small film, the kind of that enables critics to use scrabble words like “quirky” and “poignant.” my two brothers and three boy cousins, needless to say, were underwhelmed.
movie time rolled around again. master and commander, i suggested again. aw, you just wanna see russell crowe, they said. and to shouts of “yeah, remember how much she liked titanic?” and accompanying hoots of laughter, my two brothers and three boy cousins marched me off to see shattered glass.
in the darkness of the theater while the credits rolled and my two brothers and three boy cousins sat struck dumb by yet another well-acted character exploration with no profanity, sex, or explosions, i leaned over and whispered, “i told you we should have seen master and commander.”
yesterday, at long long last, i swashbuckled into the theater by myself, prepared to be entertained. instead i got soaked. master and commander must be the wettest movie since titanic. those poor sailors get smacked around by gleeful waves, sheets of rain, everything but poltergeists flying around emptying buckets on their heads. but my oh my, is it a good movie.
i mean it. russell crowe is the kind of onscreen presence that makes your eyes go wide and your head fill with one expanding thought: “movie star!” he’s balanced perfectly by paul bettany who, much more my personal taste, kept me happily distracted as chaucer during the otherwise silly “a knight’s tale.” lanky + british = mmmm ….
the crew, which includes one of the hobbits, holds up their end of the bargain too, a feat which is assisted by an actually quality script and really assured direction by peter weir (“the truman show”).
i was so excited in its aftermath that i started walking home in the balmy 5 degree weather. my father caught sight of me and whisked me away. in the car and back at home, i calmed down — until my friend ari called and invited me to watch the first half of angels in america at his house and i got all revved up again.
on a more somber note, ari asked me what the highlight of my semester was and i could not think of a thing. there must have been some head-above-the-rest thing this past fall and for the life of me i can’t call it to mind.