Suddenly I See

An audience views a film using 3D glasses

Image via Wikipedia

Went to see Martin Scorsese’s Hugo tonight (review to come!) and we opted for the 3D showing.  I’m not a lover or hater, really, of the medium, but there have certainly been times I loved it, and hated it, depending on the film.  So the news of certain ginormous films being re-released in the next coming months and years in the format has me filled with both excitement and trepidation.

The trailers at Hugo were for a variety of upcoming 3D films, mostly things like The Lorax and The Adventures of Tin-Tin.  But suddenly, a murky, underwater image of a sunken ship appeared on screen and before my “thinking” brain knew what hit it, my “emotional” brain imploded with all the love and intense feelings I have for James Cameron’s Titanic, along with every explosive emotion that came with being 16 and 17 years old, and remembering what I was doing and thinking and saying and smelling when I went to see

Cover of "James Cameron's Titanic"

Cover of James Cameron's Titanic

that flick (NINE times in the theater, no less. It might be a record, just sayin’.).  No lie, when that soaring theme was flooding my ears and a montage of the film was flashing before my eyes, I immediately started crying – I couldn’t help it.  Do I think 3D is going to help this film?  Not really.  To be honest, every time I catch this on TV, I am loath to admit that the special effects haven’t held up, and the acting is cheesy as all get out.  I don’t think retrofitting it to 3D is going to look all that great.  What I AM way pumped for is the opportunity to see this again in a theater.  Some films are sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much more fucking magical in an auditorium, surrounded by a screen, darkness, and however-many watts of sound.  I’m not necessarily pumped for the 3D, but I’m stoked into a fire of absolute JOY thinking about it being in an actual theater again.

Tron: Legacy

The same can be said for The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, and the Star Wars films – all being re-released over the next couple of years.  The movies that have blown me away with their 3D-ness were films that were SHOT  in 3D.  Not converted to, after the fact.  Avatar is obviously, and rightfully, the standard, but the under-appreciated Tron: Legacy was a feast to the senses, as was How To Train Your Dragon (whose flight sequences were far more exhilarating than Avatar‘s).  Converting movies gives you Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland (or Clash of the Titans, Transformers, we could go on).  A mediocre film that was quite visually interesting, but when you throw in the post-production 3D, it looks so muddy and stupid, it ends up taking away from whatever you were trying to attain.

I know for a fact that I’ll pay to go see these most (if not all) of these again, they can have my money – I WANT to give it to them.  But not for the 3D.  Just for the enjoyment of having the all-encompassing, immersive, blast-from-my-past adventure of seeing them again on the big screen.


Dark Have Been My Dreams Of Late

Zone One is, if you can fathom it, a literary zombie novel.  I know, I know…zombie novels aren’t literary, they’re genre.  But not this one.  This is a zombie novel (and, therefore, a genre novel) written by a literary novelist in a literary style.  And, for my money, it’s a lovely union of the two.  (Full disclosure: I’m a lover of literary fiction.)

Zone One spans 3 days in the life of Mark Spitz, a man filling his time as a “sweeper,” essentially a member of a military-style team of 3 volunteers out to find, kill and dispose of skels (short for skeletons, a.k.a., zombies) or stragglers – people who’ve been bitten and infected but become catatonic, not really a threat.  Though nowhere near as bleak as The Road, this novel is somewhat reminiscent of it.  Colson Whitehead, Zone One‘s author, utilizes such beautiful language – the imagery and honesty painting a vivid and stark picture of a world we’ve all seen before: America ravaged by flesh-eating zombies.  Yet nothing about it feels recycled.

They say the devil lives in the details, and maybe it does, but I say so does genius.  The presence of stragglers and their description is one such detail that adds rich depth to this fictional world.  Kudos to Whitehead for thinking up such a unique element to propel his readers into this grim reality.  Because the truth is, if any infectious agent were to cause an apocalypse of any kind (not necessarily one involving zombies) there would undoubtedly be some who reacted to it differently.  Some who were exposed but still survived, as there were with Smallpox, the Black Plague and AIDS.  And there would be some whose symptoms wouldn’t quite match the symptoms of the majority.  As is the case with the stragglers.  They are infected and slowly dying, but they don’t wander aimlessly in search of human or animal flesh to devour.  Instead, something inside trips up and they spend the rest of their ruined lives repetitively reliving some fragment of their former lives.  A former psychiatrist, for example, sits in the chair in her office, endlessly waiting for her ever-late patient to arrive.  Another woman stands in the dressing room of a deserted bridal shop, cradling a wedding gown, slowly decaying over the dress until she either falls to the ground for lack of physical strength or someone like Mark Spitz happens upon her and ends her mindless existence.  These stragglers make up maybe 10% of the infected and their existence causes Mark Spitz to wonder which of the many mundane routines of his former life would consume him if he were to become a straggler.  Where would he go, what part of his former life would surface through his plague-ridden brain and summon him back?  Details like this set this book so far apart from any other “zombie” novel.  From other novels period.

Another beautifully-executed detail of this fearful world is Post-Apocalypse Stress Disorder, or PASD, and every single survivor suffers from it.  “PASD had as many faces as there were uninfected.”  What Whitehead does so eloquently is showcase the truth of this statement with the varying behaviors of all characters in his novel, including the main character.  They all have baggage.  They all have issues.  They are, each and every one of them, damaged.  And they all express the effects of their damaged psyches a little differently.  Which is exactly how it goes following any major trauma in people’s lives.  Similar though we all are, stress manifests itself in varying degrees and in a variety of ways for each of us.  Mark Spitz tends toward extended internal reveries during which he recalls pieces of the world that no longer exists.  He has trouble speaking with people; basic language often evades him.  Gary, another member of Mark Spitz’s unit, refers to himself in the collective plural we, as he was born one in a set of triplets, his two brothers both long gone.  Kaitlyn, the third member of their unit, seeks order and organization anywhere she can find it, trying to create the illusion of control in a world almost completely devoid of it.

There isn’t much of a plot but that’s no complaint.  The characters are fully developed and the elegant prose moves the story along gracefully.  It’s mostly a 3-day glimpse into an America that’s been transformed by a zombie-creating plague, filled with flashbacks that answer many questions and raise others, its lack of plot more than compensated for by its characterization and its beautifully crafted theme: the devastating but no longer deniable truth that all life, including human life, is random, without design or meaning, and however we might get there, there is but one end for us all.  This story is not for the delusionally optimistic.  Yet, there was no cynicism in its telling, either.  When I reached the end, I felt there was no other place this story could have gone.  I hadn’t predicted it, yet I thought, of course, this is the end.  And I immediately flipped back 15 pages and read it again.


Stuck Still No Turning Back

It was a bit of a crazy week, what with the holiday and all, and there were reruns a plenty, something to be thankful for since it allowed me to catch up on the shows that have been piling up on my DVR.  Of all the series I regularly watch (way too many, by the way), these were the Best of The Best this week:

How To Make It In America: The Season 2 Finale aired this past Sunday and, though far from a perfect episode, it was one of the best of the season.  Ben finally realized that Yoshi is a hack, but not before inadvertently exposing his affair with Nancy – surprisingly not as big a deal as I expected.  He and Cam made up, which warmed the cockles of my heart.  (I love Cam.)  Rachel’s storyline has been weird all season and this episode was another odd installment.  Is she really going to work for the Neanderthal dude?  He’s Ben’s competition, for crying out loud.  First she slept with Domingo and now she’s taking a job from Ben’s rival.  Maybe she’s out for revenge or something.  If so, change it up, girlie.  Ben’s not quite taking the hint.  Regardless, it was a good season closer.  I’m looking forward to what’s next for these guys.  If for no other reason, this show is NYC eye candy like you’ve never seen.  Every episode makes me long to go back to the Big Apple.

The Sing-Off: OH MY GOD!!!!  Pentatonix KILLED it again this week!  If they don’t win this competition, I will swear off reality TV for good.  I literally can’t wait until they put out a CD so I could buy and memorize it.

Sons of Anarchy: Three words: Opie shot Clay!!  Holy mother of mayhem – this season is out of control!  Clay has been progressively turning into a villain all season and I’ve thought for some time now that he would either be dead or in prison before the season finished BUT SERIOUSLY – I can’t believe Opie shot him!  I’m so glad it was Opie, though, since Clay is entirely responsible for both Donna’s and Piney’s deaths.  If anybody deserved to shoot that bastard, it was Opie.  And Otto, oh Otto, you broke my heart.  (To be said like Michael Corleone after a full-on mouth-to-mouth smooch.)  Although, after Bobby read some of that list Otto wrote, I couldn’t hold it against him.  Cannot wait for the 2-part season finale!

Parenthood: This was not my favorite episode of the season BUT, I’m so, so, so insanely happy that Crosby and Jasmine have finally buried the hatchet and gotten back together…that is, if they’re back together for real.  It’s possible they just hooked up in a moment of weakness.  But I suspect they’ll give it another go and I am elated.  On a different note, I’m also glad that Adam didn’t fire Rachel.  She deserves a chance to redeem herself.  Christina, on the other hand, needs to dial down the crazy.  I totally get the jealousy and her insecurity -Rachel is damn near a goddess- but come on!  Adam adores you and is, like, the perfect dad and husband.  And he tolerates your insanity better than any other man (or woman) would!

Happy Endings: Again, not the best overall episode so far this year, but Max and Penny cracked me up this week.  Max is rapidly becoming my favorite character.  And how could he not with lines like this: “I hate kids.  And I’m not talking the type of hate that goes away after a series of zany misadventures where we grow to love each other.  I’m talking a blistering hate of them and their creepy tiny features.”

Did I miss anything…what impressed you the most this week?


Happy Thanksgiving – a post about FOOD!

I’m way too much of a “glass half-empty” type to tell you about the things I’m thankful for today (my Facebook feed is seriously grossing me out this week), and because the whole idea of the Pilgrims and the Indians makes me desperately sad (just read the first chapter of this, which will haunt your dreams and turn your stomach), I decided the best way to commemorate this day would be to talk about one of my favorite things:  FOOD.

Having recently been to New York City for the very first time, my hosts took me to some of their favorite spots, and I definitely had some fantastic meals.  Here’s some of what I ate (Oh yeah, I take pics of food):

  • Clover Club – My first meal in town, and a decadent one at that.  This place was classy, comfortable, and had a really impressive menu.  I felt like we were in a small castle, with the candles, dark wood, and brick.  It was intimate, but also fairly busy.  My friend and tour guide for my trip made me get his favorite item – the lamb burger with goat cheese.  We also had a side of their mac & cheese and steak tartare.  The burger was rich, greasy (in an awesome way), and creamy.  The mac & cheese was fancy, with huge chunks of bacon and breadcrumbs.  I love when traditional fare like this is given a twist; white cheddar and Gruyère are used instead of the same old shitty Velveeta.  I was a steak tartare virgin, and I’ll pretty much eat anything, but I was a tad hesitant, given that this is a raw item.  However, it’s served to you with these fabulous rippled chips – it was like, the best chip dip ever.  A bit pricey, but get over it.
  • New York bagel – Numerous friends and co-workers told me I’d die for a bagel in this town, and they were quite right.  See, I love me a bagel.  And this one was the best one I’ve ever eaten.  Crispy on the outside, SO SOFT inside (nooks and crannies unlike anything I’ve ever seen), and salty as all hell.  Sigh.
  • Building on Bond – A lovely, funky cafe/restaurant, that had a homey vibe – there were people there with friends, and also some alone, on their laptops.  The decor was whack, but in a good way – totally random stuff everywhere – file cabinets, records, a disco ball, yet it all kind of works.  My buddy lives in Brooklyn, and this is one of his favorite places.  He’s really fond of their chicken sandwich, and it didn’t disappoint.   It came with some wonderfully seasoned fries, and I had a really awesome Pinot Noir.  They had a nice list of interesting-sounding cocktails, but as Annie gets older, she finds that straight liquor tastes like nail polish remover, and usually passes on things that aren’t beer or wine.
  • Jacques Torres Chocolate –  My maternal unit saw this guy on “The Chew” and when she discovered I’d be staying in Brooklyn (where he has a store), she begged me to go try the chocolate chip cookie.  We made our way over to DUMBO (a lovely area) and did just that.  I have to say, meh.  It was a perfectly good cookie, but the shop was packed, the employees slight idiots, and the food was a bit stale.  I did not try any of his actual chocolate (which was all beautiful), so I can’t comment on that, however, if the cookie had been fresh and warm, I probably would have enjoyed it more.
  • 5 Napkin Burger – A fun, hopping place (we visited the Upper West Side location), that was like a fancy diner.  I will say I was slightly drunk the whole time we were there, but the service was good, the food was tasty, and their bathroom was super gorgeous and awesome.  Oh yeah, and the “Original 5 Napkin Burger” was pretty damn excellent.  Not the best burger I’ve ever had, but a quite delicious one.  The fries were AWESOME (I love perfectly seasoned fries), and they give you a pickle.  🙂  Looking at the menu whilst not inebriated, it seems to be pretty diverse.
  • Rothschilds – Another Brooklyn eatery.  We stopped here for brunch one morning, and ohmydearlord – the BEST. FRENCH. TOAST. EVER. EVER!!!!!!  I’ve provided a photo for your viewing pleasure (and to make you way jealous).  With each bite, I could have started weeping.  For some reason it’s not listed on their online menu, but if memory serves, it was made with challah bread, and my knife cut through it like butter – it was THAT creamy.  Not raw, just magically soft.  The perfect level of sweetness, covered in berries and the most enthralling maple syrup I’ve ever poured.  The place was a tad pretentious, but with food like this, who gives a shit.
  • Natori –  Billed as some of the best sushi in town, we had to give it a try.  A tiny, closet of a restaurant, completely adorable, with a miniature outdoor patio.  The sushi overall wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, but it was quite close.  Our waiter was very friendly, and I can say it was the best Philadelphia roll I’ve ever consumed.

New York City has so many food offerings, it’s like the universe – it defies the confines of your brain’s understanding.  I realize I barely scratched the surface, but I felt like I got to try a varied mix of cuisine.  I can’t wait to visit again, and delve even deeper.


Mele Kalikimaka Is The Thing To Say

Dear friends, loyal subscribers, lurkers, transient readers and first-timers (to this blog):

Today, in light of the impending holiday season and all of its accoutrement, I’d like to talk to you about holiday movies.  Annie and I will, sometime in the very near future, provide for you a list of our most beloved holiday movies, but for now I want to talk about what makes the great ones great.  (For the purposes of this post, a holiday movie is defined as a film set during the Thanksgiving-Christmas holiday season, which may or may not involve New Year’s, and in which the holiday itself plays an integral role.)

For me, a really good holiday movie must include all (or most) of the following:

  • the feel of home and family (both the warmth and the aggravation)
  • enough stress to be relate-able and/or to feel real
  • enough humor to cut the tension
  • at least one parent-to-child conflict
  • at least one sibling-to-sibling conflict
  • snow (I’ve never seen a great holiday flick set in Hawaii, or anywhere that doesn’t get snow during the winter)
  • alcohol and at least one somebody-drank-too-much-and-made-a-scene scene
  • one or more scenes in a crowded shopping mall
  • a soundtrack that includes either (or both) modern holiday music or the Christmas classics
  • a climactic scene involving a balls-out everything’s-going-to-shit freak-out
  • Christmas carolers
  • a botched holiday party/celebration

Tell me: have I forgotten anything?  Stay tuned for the flicks we recommend to enhance your holiday season.


A Sorta Fairtyale With You (Gag)

*PROCEED WITH CAUTION:  Spoilers and brazenly subjective opinions abound*

“The Twilight Saga” is one of my least favorite things in the world.  (Might wanna quit

Director Chris Weitz (left), actress Kristen S...

reading if you don’t want to hear a hater’s biased opinion)  So why have I read all four books, and gone to see each film, you ask?  Because I despise uninformed opinions.  They irritate the shit out of me.  IF I’m going to hate or love something, I want to at least know what I’m talking about.  So, I feel that my hatred is validated, due to the fact that I’ve read all four plodding, terribly written, pathetic wet-dreams-of-teenage-girls stories.

I’ll admit there is much I forget from the books (probably blocked out on purpose, a sort of self-defense mechanism), but from the little I do remember, this stays fairly faithful to the first third of the source material.  I’ve always been jealous of how the Twilight films are so true to the books, but when you ponder how UNcomplex the story is, it’s not hard to understand why.

When I first heard this book would be split into two films, my immediate reaction was, “How is this even possible?  What’s the first movie going to be???  A marriage, honeymoon, and baby?”  I got my answer, which is a resounding YES.  The entire two hours are spent displaying some mild wedding planning, said wedding, the honeymoon, worrying about having sex, having sex, worrying about having more sex, getting preggers, and then having a baby.  This is fairy-tale pornography in its purest form:  What impressionable teenage girls fantasize will happen to them, until they grow up and learn that there are no Edward Cullens in the world.  (Thank god)  If it was physiologically possible, my eyes would have rolled out of right out of my head.

Cover of "Twilight (Two-Disc Special Edit...

Cover of Twilight (Two-Disc Special Edition)

Bill Condon (Kinsey, Dreamgirls, Chicago – how the hell they convinced him to helm this, I’ll never know) directed, and while he tries his damndest, there’s not much you can do when you’re making a film that’s about nothing except a several-month period of teenage weddings, sex and babies.  The look of the film is mostly lush and silky, with the exception of the god-awful wolves.  I’ll NEVER understand why, in the day and age of fucking Avatar, one of the most successful franchises of all times has CARTOONISH WOLVES.  Gah.  The acting is terrible here, and I really think that’s saying something.  This gang is always hamming it up, but here it’s worse than usual.  What’s funny is, I don’t even think Kristen Stewart or Robert Pattinson are bad actors, but as Bella & Edward, they just suck (haha, pun intended).  Watching Stewart pretend to almost have to throw up as she’s walking down the aisle (until she lays eyes on her beloved, of course, making ME want to throw up for her), or pretend to be scared to have sex, or pretend to HAVE SEX, just all of it – the gasping, the mouth biting, the twitchy eyes, it’s painful.  Pattinson lays on the valiant, and while he is less psychotically controlling here (a mild blessing) he’s no less annoying.  I find the rest of the Cullens to be horrifying actors; my high school drama club displayed better talent.  I can barely stand to even type the words “Kellan Lutz” or “Jackson Rathbone.”

The things most people are looking forward to here are the Big Sex Scene and the Big Birth Scene.  Regarding the sex: what you see on the commercial is basically exactly what you see in the theater.  A bed shaking, some kissing, some feathers.  It wasn’t sexy, or special, or even romantic, in my spiteful opinion.  Regarding the birth of “Reneesmee” (one of the WORST NAMES EVER TO GRACE HUMANITY):  I was actually looking forward to this, because it was nuts to think that this baby ripped itself out of her stomach, with daddy’s help.  It was mostly shown in brief flashes of screaming, blood, and blackness.  Meh.  They did succeed in making Stewart truly look like death warmed over for her pregnancy and delivery, which made my cruel heart happy.

I was also interested to see what this magical baby would look like, and when you finally get to see her face, she’s mostly computer-generated, which is fitting, seeing as how she was described as having adult beauty on a child/baby’s form, which is disturbing as all fucking hell.  Stephanie Meyer should have a special little spot in hell for coming up with that concept.  Along with “imprinting.”  (Shudder)  Nice to see that gem portrayed as like, finding Jesus.  So, so, so, astoundingly creepy.

Unsurprisingly, the soundtrack was great.  This franchise has no trouble landing fantastic indie/acoustic/yearning/moody acts to give it that appropriate angst-y sound.  This dreamy beaut is ranking up a high play-count in my iTunes.

My problem with the entire “Twilight Saga” is that it is simply, and wholly, a love story.  Now I’m not saying there’s something wrong with love stories (I hope I’m not that bitter and angry inside) – I think films like 500 Days of Summer, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and even Bridget Jones’s Diary are fantastic, because they have something to say ABOUT love.  Twilight has nothing to say.  It’s a love story, with zero message.  It’s like, See Spot Run.  See Boy and Girl Become Obsessed With Each Other.  I have no hope for future generations of mankind.


My Homework Was Never Quite Like This

Hello, dear readers!  I went to New York City for the first time in my life last weekend (AHHHMAAAZZIINNNGGG, and why my sis’ has been posting for me), and I had the extreme pleasure of going to see an actual Broadway play, the new and currently-in-previews “Seminar.”

I could actually write two reviews for this play:  One being an actual discussion of the plot, acting, and writing/directing.  The second being the experience of attending.  The sounds, smells, the way everything FELT, and the huge life-gasm that happened afterwards when I got to talk to each cast member and get their autographs.  I’ll try to integrate these two pieces. 🙂

“Seminar” is a new play from Theresa Rebeck.  Not being a drama buff (despite my two years spent performing as every possible maternal character in the drama club in high school –  shout out to “Little Women” and “Father of the Bride” – and LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT!), I don’t follow playwrights, and had never heard of this woman before.  Turns out, she’s very well-respected and accomplished, having written many plays, received awards, and even penned some episodes of TV shows.  Oh, and she’s also from Ohio.  🙂   And let me tell you, girl can write.

The story is about a group of four young writers, all dealing with different issues, and in different stages of their careers.  They meet at one member of their group’s huge, rent-controlled apartment in NYC (a hilarious conversation regarding this particular piece of property), to participate in a private writing seminar they’ve all paid to be a part of, with the legendary writer and professor, Leonard.  Leonard rips most of them apart, sleeps with some of them, and in his way, complements and validates them, giving them the courage to continue on with their chosen paths.

My date for the night (who knew nothing about this play going in) looked at me as the curtain rose and said, “I LOVED that.”  I have to concur.  The dialogue is crisp, biting, and whip-smart.  The tone was hilarious, truthful, (sexy!) and poignant, all at once.  The cast was MARVELOUS.  I haven’t mentioned this yet but Leonard is played by the legen-wait for it-dary, god-among-men, Alan Rickman.  He’s every bit as good (and more) as you’d think, if you have a pulse or enjoy films.  There’s a bit of Severus Snape in there (he is a scathing Professor after all), but this is still a completely different character.  Leonard is a womanizer, but he’s honest.  If he tells you your story sucks, it does.  Rickman speaks every line with contempt, experience, and almost tragedy.  It feels cliche to say that he was “mesmerizing” to watch, but that’s the best description I can come up with.  When he was on stage, you couldn’t take your eyes off him.  The four young writers (who all played off Rickman with skill and force) are played by Jerry O’Connell (verrrrry funny as the pretentious up-and-comer), Lily Rabe (a standout for sure, she was wonderful as a woman who is still finding her way, alternating between not knowing if she should even be a writer at all, and knowing, without a doubt, that she can and SHOULD.  She was fantastic.), Hamish Linklater (the “Debbie Downer” of the group – conflicted and slightly depressed, terrified to even share his work with Leonard, his story arc had me almost teared up) and Hettienne Park (the sex-kitten, if you will, of the group.  She’s not afraid of who she is or what she might have to do to get ahead …. she was fresh, and funny, and adorable).

I loved the sets – they were colorful and made me feel like I was in the apartment with this fun, interesting group.  I laughed, a lot (although I must admit, not having gone for a liberal arts degree or being a professional writer, lots of jokes went over my head – the whole audience would bust up at a reference to particular writers I’ve never heard of, so I felt like an uneducated, mid-western fraud, but this was more the exception than the rule regarding the humor portrayed).  I was transfixed by the actors and their way of speaking, delivering these marvelous lines that Rebeck conjured up.  I was enamored with the intimate Golden theater (which honest to God reminded me of my high school’s theater, but I mean this in the most comforting, lovely way possible).  I was PSYCHED UP to be in New York City, at a Broadway production, sitting 10th row center.  (!)

I must interject here and just note for this story’s sake that someone’s CELL PHONE ACTUALLY RANG during a long, critical, profound soliloquy from Rickman.  To whoever didn’t turn their phone off (despite being told multiple times before the show started to SHUT IT OFF) – “I will count to three. There will not be a four.”  And I hope you ROT IN HELL.  It was embarrassing as shit, to sit in the presence of a screen/stage LEGEND, and hear your stupid fucking shitty Nokia ringer go off.  There was a low grumble heard throughout the audience, and I literally covered my face, I was so mortified.  Unsurprisingly, Rickman didn’t miss a beat.

Once the show ended, we went right outside and I planted myself in the autograph line.  I can’t believe that these actors do this, but they all did, and were so unbelievably gracious and polite.  I told each actor how much I enjoyed the show and their respective performances (I also mentioned to Lily Rabe how much I am loving her on American Horror Story, which she really seemed to appreciate!), but when Alan Rickman (who is truly my favorite actor, portrays one of my all-time favorite literary characters, and who resides on the isle of my celeb crushes (that’s right, don’t hate)) walked up to me, I blanked out.  All I could think to say was that he was my favorite actor, it was my first time in the city, and this night was amazing.  He looked me right in the eye, SMILED, and nodded approval.  I cannot fathom that this happened to me, but there it is.  (After this summer’s Loki experience, my sister pointed out that she and I each got to interact with the British villains of our dreams.  What a lovely turn of events!)  I was trying not to be a douchebag or too pushy/aggressive, because that was happening all around me.  Some gal even told him that “Like, Love Actually is like, my favorite movie EVER, but you’re my LEAST FAVORITE CHARACTER IN IT! HAHAHHAHA.”  I mean, seriously?  Rickman was kind and respectful to us all, which I consider a feat, because some people are just insane.  (I’m talking to you, lady-who-pushed-her-kid-in-front-of-him-and-snapped-a-pic-even-tho-we-were-told-we-couldn’t-take-pics-WITH-him)

I’m sorry I wrote a book on this night, but it was truly one of the standouts of my entire existence.  If you are in New York City this fall/winter/spring and feel like seeing a funny, thought-provoking, unique little story, portrayed by an actual legend and sparkling new talent, go see this play.  You will not regret it. (Said in the awe-inspiring perfection that is Alan Rickman’s voice)

– Here’s a great New York Times article about the play, and a video of a collection of scenes, in case anyone is interested.