Joy (cithra) wrote,

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bits and pieces

Breakfast at the Alki Cafe on Saturday, with MiKeK down from Bellingham. He brought me a Mother's Day Gift, from Xiombarg. (I'm only relaying what he said.) It was a delightful little book called Poetry for Cats by Henry Beard. Works similar to the classics of human poetry, by the feline counterparts of our great poets.

So, for example, we have She Walks in Booties by Lord Byron's Cat, Kubla Kat by Samuel Taylor Coleridge's Cat, Meow of Myself by Walt Whitman's Cat, and a little beauty that starts off
I saw the best kittens of my litter abandoned by humans,
    feral delirious rabid,
propelling themselves through the calico weeds in over-
    grown railyards, searching for a catnip hit,

Meowl by Allen Ginsberg's Cat, yes.

Sunday saw breakfast at the Cyclops, after which grouchychris and I went to see the movie Holes.
It was pretty entertaining, especially for a 'family film'. A Disney film in what felt to me like the old mode of That Darn Cat! (the exclaimation point is important - I'm talking the 1965 Haley Mills version, not the 1997 remake), or Escape to Witch Mountain or the Jodie Foster Freaky Friday. Apparently Disney has been systematically remaking all the old films of my childhood into poorer "updated" versions. Must be nice to have the money to burn, I guess - since most of them seem to sink without a trace. It wasn't until just now, in my oddessy through IMDb to find the reference links above, that I even knew they'd remade That Darn Cat with Christina Ricci. It wasn't until yesterday at Holes that I knew they were remaking Freaky Friday with Jamie Lee Curtis - ok, can't really say that one has sunk quite yet...
One of the things about the film I enjoyed was its intricacy - there are half a dozen or so themes and plot threads that weave in and out of the main story. Oddly enough, reviews I had encountered cast this complexity in a negative light - it would be too hard to understand the plot if you hadn't read the book, there was simply Too Much going on. Presumably they were thinking the cohort of younger folk the film is aimed at would be overwhelmed - in which case they were committing that strange adult sin of forgetting that ignorance is not stupidity, and that most kids are capable of apprehending a good deal more than they are given credit for. The interweaving details are half the fun!

The casting was genius. Sigourney Weaver (admittedly, one of the reasons I was interested in the film to begin with) lets the bitch out in a fantastic performance as the Warden; Jon Voight and Tim Blake Nelson each shine as her just-shy-of-sadistic henchmen. But my favorite performance was given by one of the supporting cast: Henry Winkler as the protaganist's father. Probably because I grew up watching Happy Days, so it was particularly delightful to see him deftly execute a role entirely antithetical to 'the Fonz'.

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