Evergreen Screen, Tinseltown Tannenbaum

Me and 3G have decided to give picture-less posting another try.  Now, usually I use my photos-slash-projects as the basis of my hook.  You know, that thread that, however tenuously, ties all my nonsense together.  So this time -- heads up -- I'm using the pictures in my mind.

Let us consider the Christmas tree.  It's but a pleat in Mother Nature's dark green gown, a relic of the outdoors that we bring indoors and domesticate with acres of lights and ornaments, some store-bought, some handmade, some elegant, some primitive, all of them converging in a joyful jumble that should look ridiculous but doesn't.  Yet even all dressed up, sometimes the Christmas tree misbehaves.  Sometimes it falls, narrowly missing Grandpa as he sleeps off his eggnog; other times it hatches insects and reptiles, reminding us that it's still wild and unpredictable despite our efforts to make it conform to our carefully curated winter wonderlands.  But that's okay.  Because at the end of the (holi)day, it's the crazy that makes it Christmas.

Which is pretty much the message of every Christmas movie ever, including the two I just saw: Daddy's Home 2 and A Bad Moms Christmas.  (See what I did there?  Hook, line, and stinker.) Boys will be boys and girls just want to have fun in these festive family free-for-alls.  No sophomore slumps for these sequels; both assault and then rescue Christmas with all the hijinks and heart we've come to expect from holiday features.  Daddy's Home 2 revisits the blended family blues, this time with a marshmallow of a John Lithgow and a hard-ass Mel Gibson joining Will Ferrell and Mark Wahlberg to stir the Bailey's-spiked hot chocolate pot.  And in A Bad Moms Christmas, Mila Kunis, Kristen Bell, and Kathryn Hahn take a break from being bad moms to deal with having bad moms, namely the trying trio of Christine Baranski, Cheryl Hines, and Susan Sarandon.  Through criticism, smothering, and good old-fashioned neglect, these mamas serve up fare far worse than fruitcake.  Guess Will Smith was right: parents just don't understand.  Well, at least not until they see the light -- on top of the Christmas tree.  Yep, the very same one harboring larvae and snakes, although no such snafu took place in either movie (but, hey, maybe should have).

You know, the last time I blogged about Daddy's Home, I compared it to Sisters.  And I said (something like) "I liked Daddy's Home better, but Sisters taught me more."  Well, this time I didn't learn anything, and I preferred Bad Moms. Which shows, I think, a modicum of personal growth (because it takes guts to admit that knowledge isn't always power), something our friend the Christmas tree knows lots about.

Oh, Tannenbaum, can't wait to light your candle.

Prep School Jewels and a Few Funny Flicks

 Mr. Mushroom Necklace

Sweater: So, Kohl's

Skirt: Marilyn Monroe, Macy's

Shoes: Christian Siriano for Payless

Bag: Marshalls

Jacket: Gap Outlet

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

 Heart Hodgepodge Necklace

Sweater: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Skirt: Ellen Tracy, JCPenney

Shoes: Candie's, Kohl's

Bag: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Jacket: Gap Outlet

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's

 Hits the Spot Teapot Necklace

Sweater: Macy's

Skirt: Stoosh, Macy's

Shoes: Rocket Dog, DSW

Bag: Princess Vera, Kohl's

Jacket: Mossimo, Target

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: JCPenney

 Start My Heart Necklace

Dress: Macy's

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Marshalls

Coat: Candie's, Kohl's

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Nothing says back to school like a big old mess of plaid. Even if September is long gone and my Moon Dreamers lunchbox is decorating a landfill. Still, January is as good a time as any to "Schoolhouse Rock" your style (whether you're angling for the honor roll, a social security check, or something in between), especially in this, the first month (and post!) of the year. And few things say schoolgirl like hearts. You know. Dotting i's in passed notes and notebooks, dominating drugstore-issue valentines, and popping up on post-study sesh pendants.

Ah, pendants. And barrettes. And Koosh balls. And, at least before they were banned, those snappy neon slap bracelets. When I was a kid, I lived to spend my allowance on all this and more at Afterthoughts and Claire's Boutique. Truth be told, I still have some of it! (Not the slap bracelets, though; safety first, people.)

Which is just one of the reasons I so enjoyed the Tina Fey-Amy Poehler extravaganza Sisters, an homage to 1980s kitsch -- and house parties -- as told through the story of the sisters Ellis. Fey plays freewheeling beautician and single-mom Kate to Poehler's divorced do-gooder nurse Maura, and the results are hilarious. When we meet Fey, she's giving Chris Parnell a heinous eyebrow wax; when we meet Poehler, she's giving sunscreen to a hobo who turns out to be a construction worker. Yet they're forced to put aside their differences when they find out that their parents (Dianne Wiest and Josh Brolin, just like on CBS's "Life in Pieces"!) are -- sigh -- selling their childhood home. They promptly meet up in Orlando and embark upon an epic bedroom-cleaning sequence that highlights Kate's wild child and Maura's geek girl personas in an awesome outpouring of lava lamps, trolls, feather boas, headbands, scrunchies, colorblock sweatshirts, and, that star of all such montages, diaries. (Kate's chronicles X-rated escapades whereas Maura's recounts episodes in rock tumbling. Nuff said.) Like many a repressed heroine before her, Maura is desperate to, as she puts it, "let her freak flag fly," and Kate conspires to help her by throwing a kick-ass rager cleverly coined Ellis Island Revamped, where she can chat up nice guy neighbor James (Ike Barinholtz, a.k.a. kooky nurse Morgan on "The Mindy Project"). Never mind that a stuck-up couple (the wife's wardrobe is 70% dry clean only, a sure barometer of yuppie-dom if ever there was one) has already purchased the house. Kate will stay sober so Maura can party, and everything will be okay.

Which is how movies work out never.

Before long the Brady Bunch-esque Ellis homestead is overrun with high school friends and frenemies under the influence. So, comedians abound. Maya Rudolph! Bobby Moynihan! Rachel Dratch! Kate McKinnon! Samantha Bee! Things are said, stuff is defaced, and a ballerina music box ends up somewhere it shouldn't. Kate and Maura fight, then pick up the literal and metaphorical pieces in a way that avoids being sappy. Although their personalities are at odds with each other, they have a few of those simpatico bonding moments that happen only to siblings. Which is to say, underneath the layers of Aquanet and eyeliner, Sisters keeps it real.

That having been said, Sisters is something of a foil for Daddy's Home (Will Ferrell, Mark Wahlberg) which I saw a week before and feel compelled to bring up partly because 1) both are raucous comedies headlined by SNL powerhouses and 2) both feature John Cena, a hulk of a man that I didn't know existed until seeing him in Trainwreck (yet another raucous comedy costarring an SNL favorite). Both were good, delivering on the promise of holiday hijinks, but my takeaway was this: Daddy's Home had a more cohesive plot, but I learned more from Sisters. Probably because I'm a sister. As opposed to a daddy.

Who says comedies can't be deep?

Movie Moment: Ted

There isn't a whole lot I can say about Ted that hasn't been said already.  It's a story about a kid, John, (Mark Wahlberg) who makes a wish that his Christmas gift of a teddy bear comes to life.  The wish comes true, John and Ted become "thunder buddies for life," and John slides somewhat unconsciously into adulthood with his pot-smoking bud by his side.  All is well until John's career-conscious yet surprisingly down-to-earth girlfriend Lori (Mila Kunis) suggests that Ted is preventing them from moving on with their lives.  Masterminded by the man (Seth MacFarlane) who brought us "Family Guy," Ted was an instant box office success, and therefore a testament to America's love affair with fart jokes.

So, is there more to Ted than bathroom humor and the saccharine schmaltz that is raunchiness's good cop twin?  Or is the movie's message more menacing than it seems, hinting at themes of Peter Pan syndrome and the perennial plight of the long-suffering girlfriend?  If so inclined, I could play either side.  But such musings have no place on a blog like this, and anyway, they're kind of a downer.  It's far more fun to focus on the appearances from Ryan Reynolds, Tom Skerritt, Sam Jones (Flash Gordon), and the always dryly amusing Patrick Warburton; the wild wardrobe of Ted's trashy girlfriend (which I vastly preferred to the more sophisticated style of Lori); and the eternal battle between the diamond-in-the-rough guy and the slick-but-smarmy guy (played by Joel McHale, who is always that guy) because we all want to root for the diamonds (even those of us who are duds).  But my favorite part?  Hands down, it was getting carded while buying the tickets :)        

Movie Moment: The Fighter

Last Saturday the bf and I landed at the movies after having been out all day. We hadn't checked the show times beforehand (a circumstance alien to my unspontaneous soul) and were at the mercy of whatever was playing. We turned out to be just in time for The Fighter, which we were both interested in seeing. (The bf breathed a sigh of relief when I announced that we were an hour too early for No Strings Attached.)

You probably know all about the plot of The Fighter because it's been out a while and is nominated for several Academy Awards. America loves an underdog, and this based-on-a-true-story account of Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg), a working class down-on-his-luck boxer weighed down by his overbearing manager mother (Melissa Leo), once-legendary-boxer-turned crack-addict brother (Christian Bale), and his own perceived limitations, delivers. Enter the love of a good woman (Amy Adams), and Micky's world explodes, forcing him to question his family and himself, ultimately reconciling what's best about each to triumph over his most fearsome opponents.

The movie was dark and gritty, qualities that usually put me ill at ease. This time was no different, and at first I didn't like it. But by the second half, I'd changed my mind. It's a hard-hearted viewer who doesn't end up rooting for Micky.

Given my preference for lighter fare, I don't see too many Oscar-nominated movies and end up feeling left out watching the big ceremony. So, I was glad to have witnessed Melissa Leo's and Christian Bale's performances. (They're favored to win for Best Supporting Actress and Best Supporting Actor, respectively.) Both were outstanding, Melissa Leo as a chain-smoking, hard-bitten lioness viciously protective of her cubs, and Christian Bale as a tortured, talented, and desperate fallen hero.

Maybe I should watch gritty movies more often.

Movie Moment: The Other Guys

If you like explosions, gunshots, car chases, and Will Ferrell's comic genius for awkward social situations, then you'll like The Other Guys. I picked up the DVD for the bf a couple of days before Christmas because he kept trying to rent it On Demand without success. (I almost blew my cover when he announced that he wanted to try again on Christmas Eve Eve by erupting into helpless giggles, insisting that I'd rather watch a rerun of "The Big Bang Theory.") Anyway, the movie is about two NYPD cops stuck behind the desk. Well, at least Terry (Mark Wahlberg) feels as though he's stuck. Hungry for glory and the chance to "fly like a peacock," he convinces mild-mannered ex-accountant Allen to join him in his quest for greatness. Although initially reluctant, Allen ends up agreeing to the mission, and the two of them climb into Allen's red Prius, which boasts a CD player preloaded with a half dozen Little River Band CDs, much to Terry's disgust. A textbook nerd, Allen makes one annoying observation after another in true Ferrell fashion, prompting Terry to repeatedly lash out that he hates him. Yet just when it seems that the team's odd couple ways will be their undoing, they stumble upon a huge case involving big business, the details of which aren't important. (Hey, we all know these crazy plots are just a vehicle for character development, screwball antics, and good guy-saves-the-day denouements.) The discovery forces them to get along and reinforces their desire to prove themselves to their boss, a TLC-lyrics-spouting-police-captain-slash-Bed-Bath-&-Beyond-manager played by Michael Keaton. Ferrell predictably steals the show, misunderstanding all of Wahlberg's orders and giving way to hilarious scenarios. Perhaps one of the funniest (and most disturbing) parts is when Allen reveals that he was a pimp back in college. Only, he doesn't realize that that's what he was, relaying the incident detail by naïve detail to Terry's horror while a song entitled "Pimps Don't Cry" wails in the background. That's not to say that Wahlberg doesn't have his own shining comic moments. His character becomes a little more complex when we learn that this hard-boiled cop has an artsy-fartsy ex-girlfriend for whom he still carries a torch. As Terry tries to win her back, he unveils unlikely talents for ballet dancing and art interpretation, all the while defending his tough-guy image by claiming that he honed the skills so he could make fun of the nerds on his block growing up.

In the end, Allen and Terry rush in to save the day in classic style, earning the respect they so desperately crave. Is it a little cheesy and predictable? Well, yes. Is it a little raunchy in parts? Again, guilty. But I think I speak for lots of viewers when I say that we'd be disappointed if it were anything but. The Other Guys is a nice diversion punctuated by stretches of subtle humor. I can honestly say I'm glad I made that last mad dash to buy it.

Movie Moment: Dinner for Schmucks

I thought it was high time I provided my readers with some borrowed visuals when appropriate. If only to add photographs other than my own to the mix.

All summer long, I've been waiting for the movies. For the blockbusters and comedies that give summer its excitement and sparkle. But after Sex and the City 2 came out in May, June melted into July with nary a prospect, and I resigned myself to the sad truth that there would be nothing to see.

And then came August. Instead of winding down with a cold buffet of B offerings, summer finally came into its own, unleashing a smorgasbord of possibility in Dinner for Schmucks (I know it came out at the tail end of July, but for the purposes of my argument, that works too); The Other Guys; Scott Pilgrim vs. the World; Eat, Pray, Love; The Switch; and Going The Distance. Now, I know you must be thinking, "What?! These are the movies for which you've been waiting?" I know, I know. Most of them aren't stellar, in and of themselves. But together they present a united front of much-needed, light-hearted summer fare, offering choices where none existed before. I'm someone who likes to go to the movies. A lot. And quite frankly, I don't expect to have a religious experience each time. I'm just looking to be entertained. I want comedies (and sometimes dramas), and lots of them, even if they turn out to be merely lukewarm.

So, last night I decided that the bf and I should venture out and see one of these contenders. I was torn between Dinner for Schmucks and The Other Guys (Scott Pilgrim vs. the World was out because I knew the bf wouldn't want to see it, not sharing my appreciation for Michael Cera.). They were two comedies that may or may not be funny. On the one hand, you had Paul Rudd, Steve Carell, and Jemaine Clement (Flight of the Conchords) and the promise of all the color and noise and hilarity that comes with a plot based around a dinner party. On the other hand, you had Will Ferrell (and Mark Wahlberg, but he hardly counts as an asset. Nothing against him, but he's just no Will Ferrell, you know?). Now, Will Ferrell's genius is such that it trumps the characteristic dreariness of the cop movie. So, I was clearly feeling the pull. But despite my emotional tug-of-war, I decided to go with Dinner for Schmucks. The appeal of the weird factor was too strong to resist, as was Paul Rudd.

So, how was it? A little slow at first. And definitely weird. It also had a faintly European flavor, which was probably owing to the fact that it was based on the 1998 French film Le Diner de Cons (or to us, The Dinner Game). It became more farcical and dramatic as it built to its (admittedly predictable) conclusion. Steve Carell stole the show as Barry, an IRS agent who creates diorama "mouseterpieces" featuring dead mice in elaborate settings such as the Last Supper, Orville and Wilbur Wright's first flight, and an extravagant picnic starring little girl mice in red wigs emulating his ex-wife. Barry is the well-meaning moron who wreaks havoc every time he tries to "help," the ultimate schmuck who is destined to take first prize at Tim's (Rudd's) boss's competition dinner for idiots. Yet despite his annoying personality and fondness for dead rodents, I must admit that I was genuinely charmed by Barry and his mouseterpieces. Call it the artist in me, but anyone who would devote so much time, detail, and love to such an off-putting craft couldn't help but emerge as endearing. Jemaine Clement's role as an out-there, oversexed artist was interesting too, although in a creepy and decidedly not endearing way. It was strange seeing him with long hair, no glasses, and a tan - not to mention actually getting chicks -- when I've known him as only the hapless nerdy musician on Conchords. Speaking of which, the Conchords's friendly stalker, Mel (Kristen Schaal), also made an appearance as Tim's quirky secretary (she is just as odd as she is in Conchords and wears some fabulously kitschy pins).

Overall, Dinner for Schmucks wasn't laugh-out-loud funny. But it was fun to watch, and to this comedy-starved moviegoer, well worth the trip.