The Fighter

Last Friday night I finally got around to watching The Fighter. Holy fuck. It is such a good movie. I’m not usually a fan of watching people getting their faces punched in, but holy shit did I like this movie. It really made me take a look at myself and ask some difficult questions, like how is it that I didn’t see this movie sooner when I managed to drag myself out of a school-induce stupor to see No Strings Attached TWICE?!

I think this movie would be really hard to talk about as a whole, because all I will end up saying is a string of nonsense about how good it is and how much I loved it rather than being anything worth reading. Instead, I have decided to review the performances of the 4 main characters of the film, seeing as casting is my jam. Enjoy.

Mark Wahlberg : Micky Ward

            For some reason, I’m always a little skeptical of Mark Wahlberg. I don’t know if it’s because of his work back in the day with the Funky Bunch, or the third nipple thing, or perhaps that the first time I saw one of his movies was Planet of the Apes and I was too young and/or too much of a girl to understand it, but I usually have trouble taking him seriously as an actor. His brother is a New Kid, for heaven’s sake! But holy shit, did he bring it in The Fighter. His performance was incredibly subtle (as was his Bwaston accent, which I love always), and I was really rooting for him throughout the film. When his mother was being a psycho to him, I wanted to defend his honour by physically shaking her and saying "What the fuck is your problem, lady?!" And I’m sorry, but I just have to mention the fact that he is effing gorgeous. I don’t care who you are, there is no denying this man is fox.

Amy Adams : Charlene Fleming

            I don’t really like Amy Adams. I mean, yes, when Cameron suggested that she play Betty in our WL 402 production of Archie: The Movie, I thought she would be pretty perfect. But for the most part, I think she’s not that interesting and I still hold a bit of a grudge against her for her role in The Office, where she dates Jim and drives Pam further into Roy’s arms, if I’m being completely honest. Also, she was super annoying in Enchanted. But in The Fighter, I found her quite enjoyable to watch. In a word, this girl was trash, but in a lovable way. She was a bit of a rough and small-town, and I think that she played it well and I much preferred her playing someone who is a little on the hard side as opposed to her usual sugary-sweet characters. This role really showed off what she’s capable of and certainly changed my opinion of her as an actress.  A notable moment is when she beats the shit out of one of Micky’s sisters.

Melissa Leo : Alice Ward

            This was the first time I have ever seen a movie of Melissa Leo’s. I mean, she was on an episode of Veronica Mars once, but it doesn’t really count because she was just the transsexual father of one of Veronica’s client. Good episode, but hardly any sort of indication of what the woman is capable of. So when she won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress, I, having not seen this movie yet, had no clue who she was.  Now that I’ve seen it, I still have trouble reconciling the fact that she is who she is. First, she is physically unrecognizable in the film. Her hair is atrocious and overall she does not look like herself. And holy shit, is she a unlikeable. I can’t seem to reconcile Melissa Leo in real life with Melissa Leo in this movie. I absolutely hated her throughout the entire film, and I guess that’s the point. Her complete transformation is deserving of her Oscar, let alone her actual acting and character work.

Christian Bale : Dick Eklund

            Forget Mark Wahlberg. Despite playing an emaciated crack head, Christian Bale was the most attractive man in this film. He really stole the show with his portrayal of a failed boxer turned drug addict Dicky Eklund. Overall I think that Christian Bale is one of the greatest actors of today, and I think he too often gets overlooked. I’m glad people seem to no longer ignore his incredible talent, because he truly is amazing. I mean, c’mon! The guy has pretty much never done the same accent twice (the exception being Batman, which I feel is understandable). After the film, they show a clip that’s about 30 seconds long of an actual interview with the real man, and from even just seeing that clip it’s clear that Christian Bale took this man on embodied him completely. There’s a real understanding of him in Bale’s performance and his dedication to the role is astounding. I even heard that at one point, to prepare for this role, Christian Bale moved in with the real Dick Eklund. You have to appreciate someone who takes their work that seriously. I’m getting back to that thing where I am so overwhelmed by something that I can’t actually articulate myself properly. Just. See this movie for this performance if nothing else. God, this is the guy from Newsies! It’s insane! But seriously, if anyone deserved an Oscar this year, it was certainly Christian Bale. Well… Him and Randy Newman.

Irrational? Yes.

I’m an irrational person, to put it mildly. If I were to put it not-so-mildly, I would say that I’m a touch nutters. It wouldn’t be so bad if my craziness didn’t display itself publicly, but the short and short of it is that it does. The following is a list I’ve compiled of some of my irrational habits, fears and thought processes. Perhaps this will shed some light on some of my more alienating behaviors. Hopefully it'll clear up a few things.

“That’s garbage”

            I have this weird thing with food where once you’ve decided you’re finished, you’re finished and there’s no turning back. I was able to keep this irrationality under wraps until recently. After singing in a concert at the Vancouver Art Gallery this December, a group of us went for lunch at the Earls downtown. Danica and I had our private Earls rendez-vous special (we shared chicken strips and fries. But saying it the other way sounds more fancy). Having finished, I put my napkin on my plate, covering the remainder of my fries. McSteph was sitting next to me and I believe it was she who asked if she could finish my fries, and I gave her what I assume, from the reaction of the group, was my most disdainful look. My reply? “But… they’re garbage!”. That’s right. Once you decide that you are finished your food, what remains immediately becomes garbage. And if you decide to eat any more, you’re just eating garbage. Which is super gross! And I know that the food is the exact same as it was before you decided you were done. All the same, I refuse to eat garbage unless I’m trying to survive some sort of apocalypse.

Teeth

            This one is an interesting fear as it displays itself in two ways. First, baby teeth freak me right out. They are super gross. They’re all small and delicate looking. I’m afraid that they’re going to break or fall out of face they are meant to be rooted in. Which brings me to part two, which is the fact that I have a crippling fear of my teeth falling out of my face. I used to be cool with teeth falling out of my face, back when I was a child and actually had teeth falling out of my face. But that all changed when I was 16 and got braces. My braces were quite the ordeal to begin with, what with needing 3 gum surgeries in order to prepare to bring my bottom teeth forward. After that, it was 2 years, 3 months and 23 days of nightmares that at any moment, my teeth would fall out, still strung together with brackets and wires. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my braces. I still look back at pictures from high school, run my tongue across my perfectly straight teeth and remember fondly how they got that way. But I did not endure more than 2 years of wires cutting the inside of my mouth just to have all my teeth fall out of my face.

Feet

            Let’s just clear this one up. I am not afraid of feet. I just think they are disgusting. I can’t even explain this one. Just… Don’t touch me with your bare feet. Fuck.

Hair on Transit

            This is by far the most embarrassing of all my irrational thought processes because there is no way that this would ever actually happen. Basically, when I ride the bus, I MUST put my hair into a ponytail. I often nap, read, or get lost in thought on the bus. I have a lot of hair and a ponytail is the best way to keep track of it when I’m not entirely present. You know, keep it in one place. It’s easier to keep track of that way. If I DO happen to decide to nap on the bus, that ponytail MUST be covered by a hood. This is because I fear that while I’m sleeping on the bus, someone will try to cut my ponytail off. You know, like you do. If my ponytail is hidden under a hood, no one can cut it off. Heaven forbid I have not brought a jacket or sweater on the bus that has a hood. No hood automatically means no sleep, lest someone cuts my hair off. I have such strong feelings about this that once, I had a dream that David Clark cut my ponytail off on a bus and I was mad at him in real life. Irrational? Well, that’s the point.

Packing

            I have a compulsive need to be prepared. In preparation for a weekend island adventure or choir tour, I pack at least one week in advance. Which is reasonable for me, considering I used to pack at least two weeks ahead. It doesn’t end there. The packing is preceded with several lists as to exactly what toiletries, make-up, and clothing I plan on bringing with me. These lists are edited more vigorously than most of the papers I write for my World Lit degree. I account for all possible weathers and all possible spontaneous outings. I wouldn’t want to trek all the way to UVic for my birthday only to be caught without a costume for an impromptu Hobo-themed party, now would I? The packing is also followed by several attempts to re-pack, finding what exactly is the most efficient and economic packing method. Rolled clothes or laying flat? It’s quite the debacle. Furthermore, when I’m actually living out of a suitcase, I have a compulsive need to be constantly packed. Which means I’m constantly dumping my shit and refolding it. Every damn morning and night. Am I right, Danica?

People Breathing on Me

            Ew. If there is one thing that I absolutely cannot stand, it is when people breathe on me. There is an extremely short list of people that I am willing to share a bed with. That list is made up of my friends Jenna, Lisa, and Danica. Jenna and Lisa because we happen to prefer to sleep facing different ways. In fact, when Lisa and I share a bed, our bodies make a handwritten x that connects at the butt. Danica because she hates people touching her, so she’s never close enough for her breath to make its way to my skin. This is an issue that I’ve had since I was little, which is interesting because I feel like most of my other irrationalities have developed more recently. I don’t even know why this bothers me so much. Which is why it’s irrational, I guess. All I know is that if I ever get married, I’m going to need a second bedroom in case my husband turns out to be a mouth breather.

Strangers

            If I were to describe my social skills in one word, I would have difficulty choosing between “Uneven” and “Poor”. I am a delight if I know the person I’m talking to well enough to be comfortable. On the other side of the spectrum, heaven forbid someone who I don’t know tries to talk to me. I am the worst at small talk. And I don’t understand why people who don’t know me would want to talk to me. This results in many hilarious public transit situations where I pretend at length to be absorbed in my readings of GDP per capita graphs and post-performance mingling sessions where I will tag along behind absolutely anyone who is willing to make small talk for me. My underdevelopment in this region of life has resulted in what I would call a hyper-awareness of which people I do and do not know. If I don’t know you, why are you trying to talk to me? I have difficulties making conversation with people I DO know. Whatever happened to comfortable silences?! Of course, this causes Danica’s mother to lament over the fact that if I’m not willing to meet new people, I’m never going to get a boyfriend. To that I say good point. Though I’m only considering your advice because I know you. If I didn’t, it’d be a polite smile and aversion of the eyes for you, just like everybody else.

Reactance Bias

            If you’ve never read a book by AJ Jacobs, go out and get yourself a copy of The Know It All. It is so good. All of his books are good, but this one is my favorite. This final irrationality does not come from The Know It All. It comes from another book by Jacobs called The Guinea Pig Diaries, or, My Life As An Experiment if you’re reading it in the second edition. This book is basically a collection of writings where Jacobs decided to turn his life into a series of experiments. In one section, Jacobs describes something called the “Reactance Bias”, which basically is an irrational need to do the exact opposite of what you’re told to do. I have this in a big, stupid way. In fact, this is probably the most irrational thing that I do. I have an overwhelming need to be independent, and when someone tells me straight out to do something, I feel like they’re stealing my free will and I refuse to do it. Once, my dad told me to say “thank you” to my mom and I refused. I was going to say “thank you” before he told me to say it, but I didn’t want it to seem like I was doing it just because he told me to. So my poor mother remained unthanked, until later that night when I felt enough time had passed, and that the “thank you” was because I wanted to say it, and not because someone made me. In short, I am a child.  

Red Hiding Hood

This weekend, I had big plans to buckle down and get a ton of homework done. So naturally, when the best friend asked if I wanted to ignore the mountain of school that has accumulated around me and accompany her and her mother to a late-night viewing of Red Riding Hood on Saturday, I said yes.

I am embarrassed to say I was excited to see this movie. In my defense, Danica and I are excited about anything to do with the former cast of Veronica Mars (Ahh, adolescence….) and Amanda Seyfried played the dead best friend of Kristen Bell. To lend me a bit more credibility, Gary Oldman is also amongst the cast of Red Riding Hood. My logic was pretty much “Gary Oldman plays Sirius Black in HP, and I love HP, so I will most likely love Red Riding Hood”.

What I fool I am.

As Danica and I strolled through the lobby of the Criterion 4 White Rock (for those unaware of the travesty that is White Rock cinema, cherish that ignorance) and into the theatre, I looked more closely at the movie poster. Here I saw the words “Directed by Catherine Hardwicke”. My heart sank with the realization that I had, in fact, just spent $10 to see a movie directed by the woman who brought us the first (and worst, thank you very much) Twilight movie.

After some moaning and the reception of a stern look from the best friend, I figured that I would make the most of this sure-to-be-terrible movie. And I actually quite enjoyed the previews (who doesn’t? They are the best part of any film).

I’ll spare you the finer details. All you need to know is that Gary Oldman is not a very nice man in this film, every attempt to directly reference the children’s story was poorly integrated and met with an uncomfortable laughter stirring inside me, and the biggest question I had throughout the film was “why do all the men in this movie seem like perverts?”

This I will say. What I most looked forward to in Red Riding Hood was that I knew I was about to be mind-fucked. The whole point of this film is to have you guessing who the wolf is. You think you’ve figured it out, and then the person you thought it was gets murdered. So despite the fact that this movie was straight up not good, I figured I had at least this much to look forward to.

Alas. I won’t give away the ending, but I thought someone was the wolf, and still expected the mind-fuck, but it never came because I am the most brilliant and guessed right. So even this aspect of the movie was a let down for me.

Red Riding Hood is not a good movie. I should really be going into the theatre next time with more to go on than “Actress from a failed series I loved in high school + actor from HP MUST = high quality entertainment”. I’m glad I ended up seeing this one if only for the escape it provided from my homework. But honestly, the best part of my night was when we went to Wal-Mart after and Danica and I sang and danced through the housewares. Though, to be fair, isn’t that the best part of any night?

About The Author

Don't you just love that section at the end of a book? Not really. No one ever cares to read about the author.

This is all beside the point. I was asked in January to start up a poetry blog, which resulted in a hilarious albeit misguided attempt to write one poem per week for an entire year. It didn't last long and my failure resulted in withering stares from my so-called beloved friends. Which was all very sad. I never claimed to be a poet.

This blog is going to be different. I will write what I want when I want (I'm looking at you Jenn....). Up first will be my opinion of "Red Riding Hood", which is by no means a good movie, so listen up kidlets.

Most importantly, this is not a Henry James novella.