As per usual when I get paid, the first day is full of extravagance. After being unable to sleep well last night- the combination of bad werewolf effects and giant coffees and the heat of romantic passion- I got up for a day of shopping, movies, and work. I started at Cameron's, where I found the most recent issue of
Esquire, the July
GQ (fuck, gorgeous blue-eyed boys) and J. J. Abrams's
Wired. Then, Borders for the Toledo-designed copy of
Wuthering Heights and gorgeous
Teen Vogue and
Nylon photoshoots plus the new
GQ (Christoph Waltz in
The Raven is to-die-for). Fox Tower for indie film with smuggled-in Flying Elephants Chinese chicken salad and Viso, and then Powell's, for dirty paperbacks. I had to hustle my ass to work after, but it was worth it for the indulgence of new money.
At Fox Tower, I saw the new Coen Brothers film,
A Serious Man, and I was blown away by it. First of all, the cinematography and color scheme was phenomenal. Blues and browns have never looked so compelling. Second, it's a quintessential Coen film because it's so full of real life, pushed to extremes and without salvation. I'm sure a lot of people hated the prologue and the ending, but I love that they're consistent with the previous two Coen films in that they completely subvert the audience's expectations. Some annoying old people at the movie today shouted, "What?!" when the end credits started to roll. As pointed out in the
New York Times review of the movie, it's not exactly clear what the Coens are trying to say about the nature of God, but I think I'd develop a good idea after a few more viewings. Maybe it's my own experience within my family's community, but I also loved the complete submergence in American Jewish culture. I'm not Jewish myself, but I can relate to being a part of some smaller facet of American society with its own customs and subset of the English language. I don't think you need to be Jewish to understand the Coen Brothers' films; I think you just need to be aware of the sensation of impending doom that's always pervaded Western society.
There's so much to recommend about
A Serious Man- the son's honest experiences with marijuana, Richard Kind's Henry Darger-esque descent into mad uncertainty, the yes-and-no investments of the rabbis (including Simon Helberg as the junior rabbi who has an incredible passion for parking lots), the fact that Michael Stuhlbarg gives easily the best performance of the year so far- but the thing that I love the most is the fact that the whole time I watched it, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at just about everything. It's an obvious American retelling of Job, imposing distinctly suburban middle class tribulations onto the biblical story, but the most moving image I found in the film was of Larry Gopnik, having woken up from a nightmare, wandering into the kitchen to prepare his morning coffee, and watching him perform an action he's undoubtedly done millions of times before, but with a new heaviness that's a distinct realization of the way the world is crashing down around him. It's definitely one of the most affecting shots I've ever seen- the deep blue of early morning coming in through the curtains that briefly illuminates the kitchen- and it moved me to tears.
I really hope it gets some love come awards time. It's probably the second best film I've seen this year, and I hope to see it again before it's out of theaters. Seriously, go see it. If you need a comparison to describe it, think of
Revolutionary Road,
Election, and
The Big Bang Theory rolled up together.
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deathscytheheck's journal, about how Eli Roth and B. J. Novak had (made-up) sex on the set of Inglourious Basterds, and then that went to Omar and B. J. having sex, which seems more likely, and there are tire irons involved. This post is most of what we wrote or texted, along with 
dorky
contemplative
sleepy
bored
touched
amused
tired
anxious
lazy
thoughtful