Tag Archives: movies

Name Brand Lame

Is it Lame Post Friday or a Blogger’s Sick Day?  I feel really bad, too, because I had some good topics to write about.  Only I can’t seem to write today.  I can’t even read, if that gives you any indication (and it should).  Oh dear, now it is turning into Wrist to Forehead Friday.  Oh poor, pitiful me!

Um, those last two lines were me making fun of me.  Nobody has to chime in with any unkind remarks, unless such behavior is essential to your own health and well-being.

I woke up with a headache today.  I did not think it was too bad at first, but it escalated.  Still not too worried, I took some Equate Migraine Relief (just a little gratuitous product placement) and a nap.  I have spent the rest of the day fairly headache-free but SO LIGHTHEADED!  It sucks to be me!

On the brighter side, that parenthetical comment gave me a topic to expound upon at least briefly.  Product placement is often derided on movies and television.  Some people believe the producers are merely sucking up extra bucks from the manufacturers of those products.  We, the poor hapless viewers, are tricked into watching high quality commercials which will no doubt hypnotize us into purchasing said products.

However,  it seems to me that to NOT have the products placed is to take away from the realism of the scene.  For example, when was the last time you walked into a bar and ordered “a beer”? Nobody does that!  They ask for a Labatt’s or a Heinekin.  They might possibly say, “What do you have on tap?”  but they expect to hear specific brands listed and to pick one.

The fact is we are a brand name society.    Some people drive the same make of car for decades.  Others are intensely loyal to a certain brand of sneakers.  And there is the tendency to mix up brand with product, as in calling tissues “Kleenex” and photocopies “xeroxes.”

Oh, I know, many people eschew brand names and are proud to do so.  My Equate pills are, of course, a store brand, which are cheaper than the Excedrin they imitate.  I purchase store brands in many of my favorite foods.

It raises an interesting question.  Which is better?  When are you paying for just the name?  I have long threatened to have a party where I serve two of every refreshment, one name brand, one store brand and solicit comment.  You know, one dip with Crowley Sour Cream and Lipton Onion Soup Mix, one with Hannaford versions of same, served with store and name chips, of course.  The advantage of this, of course, is I’ll have twice the chips and dip.  I do love chips and dip.

My running shoes have been name brand for years.  I wear different brands, but I haven’t worn a non-name since I started to enjoy running in the army.  My non-running shoes have been… whatever I happen to pick up at a good price.

How about you, dear readers?  Are you loyal to any brands or do you proudly purchase whatever is cheapest?  Do you perceive a difference in quality?  Do you feel a blogger like me should refrain from making lame posts when feeling light-headed from non-name over the counter drugs?  Are you having a nice Friday?

Mine has been intermittently enjoyable.

 

Where’s that Monster?

I did not write my blog post at work today, but I thought that would be OK, because I intended to run so I could do a Running Commentary. As the day progressed, I became increasingly enamored of the idea, because I would HAVE to go running or I wouldn’t have a blog post.

It was a bright, sunny day but not the least bit warm. As I walked from my place of employment to my vehicle, I breathed in the cold air and felt tired. Maybe I could run in place on the mini-tramp. For one reason, my husband Steven was home so I could visit with him as I ran. For another reason, if I was just too tired I could wuss out and already be home. For the main reason, it would be easier to breathe and my nose would not incessantly run.

Even so, I dithered once I got home. Outdoors or in, resolutely keeping the possibility of not running at all off the table. Finally I put on shorts and a short-sleeved t-shirt and hauled out the mini-tramp (it is actually quite handily located in the dining room). I asked Steven to find the silent movie I’ve had on the DVR since October.

The movie was The Monster (1925). The description said something about a Dr. Ziska doing… something nefarious. I was just fascinated by the name Ziska, because I’m quite certain a Dr. Ziska figures in one of the cheesy movies on our 50 Horror Classics DVD. I haven’t tried to look it up yet. Uncertainly sometimes adds zest.

I’m taking a long time to actually get to the run, because the run was pretty dull. Another advantage of running on the mini-tramp is that I tend to run harder. I set a leisurely pace outside. I find it easier to be leisurely moving in a horizontal direction than vertically. So I told myself I was burning more calories and building up my legs, even as I kept looking at my watch. I ran 26 minutes on Monday, while calculating and re-calculating in my head if I would be in shape in time for the Boilermaker. Would I make it for 26 minutes today?

Could that movie take any longer to get to the monster? The first scene is dramatic: a scary-looking guy causes a farmer in a car to have a bad accident. Is the farmer dead? As the next scene opens, the farmer has disappeared, causing much excitement in the village. The movie becomes less exciting as the investigation stalls and a lame romantic rivalry takes over the plot. Let’s go, movie! It’s supposed to be a horror movie! Scare me!

I must say, running around my beloved Herkimer looking at houses, yards and passersby is a lot more interesting. Steven and I chatted a little, which was nice. I moved my arms around, over my head, back and forth. I did a little twist, just for something different. After all, it worked for Chubby Checkers. It could work for me.

I made it for 26 minutes. My cool-down walk around the house was only five minutes, instead of my usual 10 to 12 around the block with Tabby. So I owe Tabby a walk. I owe myself an outdoor run, too. Possibly on Saturday, weather permitting. If the weather is bad, well, maybe the monster will finally show up on that movie.

I’d Like to Thank the Academy

The Oscars are kind of a big deal at our house. Specifically they are a big deal to my husband, Steven. He has watched them every year for — wait for it — 50 years. Yes, this was his 50th consecutive year of watching the Oscars. I’m a little embarrassed to admit I went to bed, but this isn’t about me (yes, it’s my blog about by life, and in general it is all about me, we’ll get back to that tomorrow.).

Steven and I both love movies. I think my tastes run a little shallower than his (hey, I haven’t written about a cheesy movie in a long time, I’ll have to do something about that), but I often appreciate a movie of Oscar caliber. Sad to say, in recent years we have not seen many of the nominees before the ceremony. In our defense… oh, it’s tiresome to list all our reasons, just excuse our slackness in that area.

I was happy to hear that the guy from the Farmer’s Insurance commercials won. J.K. Simmons, I know his name. I liked him before those commercials.

The real reason I’m writing this post, though, is because I saw an acceptance speech shared on Facebook and I’m going to share it again here. Graham Moore, the writer for The Imitation Game, said the following:

“In this brief time here, what I want to use it to do is to say this: When I was 16 years old, I tried to kill myself because I felt weird and I felt different and I felt like I did not belong. And now, I’m standing here and I would like for this moment to be for that kid out there who feels like she’s weird or she’s different or she doesn’t fit in anywhere: Yes, you do. I promise you do. You do. Stay weird, stay different. And then, when it’s your turn and you are standing on this stage, please pass the same message to the next person who comes along.”

I know Steven heard it because he saw the ceremony, but I had to read it out loud to him anyways. I teared up. What a kind, wise, wonderful thing to say. I wanted to share it. I don’t really have anything to add to it, but I guess I don’t have to. Happy Monday, everyone.

Tired, Old, and Reading Other Blogs

Well, I was all set to have another Tired Tuesday. In my defense, I seem to be coming down with some weird winter malady, the main symptom of which seems to be that I am tired. And headachey. And not a little vague. The sad thing is that I have so been having Mohawk Valley adventures. I hemmed and hawed, listening to the little voice in my head saying, “I CAAAN’T write a real blog post today!” It was not the little devil on my shoulder; she is a good deal more robust.

I really wanted to write a better blog post than about how tired and ill I feel. I went to Facebook and got some info for a local business I patronized recently and thought to give a shout out to. Then I came back to WordPress. Of course blogs I follow popped up first. I just had to read a couple.

I noticed that Today I Watched A Movie had reviewed Double Jeopardy. Sometimes he reviews older movies (it really grates on me to call a movie released in the ’90s “old,” because what does that make me, for heavens’ sake?). I remembered when this one was in theatres, so I perused his review. And made the following comment:

I always thought the premise of this movie was so asinine! You cannot legally murder somebody just because you got wrongfully convicted of doing so when they are still alive. Yes, I felt free to give away the whole plot without benefit of a spoiler alert because the TV advertisements and trailers did the same thing when this movie was in the theatres. We caught it on video, because at that time we caught almost everything on video (and now that’s the olden days. Damn!). Now I see my comment is running longer than your concise review. Sorry. I think I’ll use my comment for my blog post. Thanks for listening.

It would be nice to credit the other blogger who occasionally uses his comments on other blogs as his own blog posts, because that is what gave me the idea to do it myself. Unfortunately, I can’t remember which blogger that was. I thought it was a brilliant idea, though. To me it has a nice reduce/reuse/recycle feel to it. To others, it perhaps seems lazy. To my hazy, ailing brain, it seems acceptable on a Tired Tuesday.

And when I’m feeling better I may do a whole piece on how we used to trek to the video store and rent movies all the time and how much fun that was. Yes, I’m old! I embrace it!

Lamely Theatrical

I said earlier this week that I would use Lame Post Friday to consider the term “marvelously theatrical.” Regular readers (if any) may remember that George Zucco was described thusly in a summary of a Horror Classic I once saw.

The term “theatrical” to me seems a little silly. I would think that if something is on a stage in a threatre it is, by definition, theatrical. Kind of like looking your age. My dad says, how can you not look your age? I’m 50. This is what I look like at 50. Hence, I must look 50 (I know, I KNOW some of you probably think I DO look 50 or worse. It’s just an example) (And when my dad was 50, everybody said he didn’t look 50) (but I digress).

Perhaps it is one of those words that “I can’t give you a definition, but I know it when I see it.” I could explain this better in person. I would sit demurely and say in a quiet tone of voice, “I am in a theatre. I am theatrical.” Then I would leap to my feet, make a wide gesture with one arm and shout, “I am in a THEATRE!” Then a wide gesture with the other arm, “I am THEATRICAL!” Can you picture it?

I bet some of you have been sitting there trying to get a word in edgewise and point out to me that George Zucco was in a MOVIE not the THEATRE. Oh silly me. Did I even realize there is a difference?

Of course I did, stop looking so smug. I would submit that the difference may be less than we think. And I believe audience expectations are similar: they want to be entertained.

There is a wonderful scene in All About Eve where Gary Merrill tells off Ann Baxter for scorning movies vis a vis Broadway. He basically says that theatre encompasses all sorts of entertainment, “wherever there’s magic and make believe. So don’t approve or disapprove. It may not be your theatre, but it’s theatre for someone.” (I may be misquoting; don’t judge.)

“I just asked a question,” she replies, in that demure, well-modulated voice she uses when she’s got everybody fooled.

Steve and I always say, “Yeah, right,” because she used a horrified tone of voice, as if Hollywood is the antichrist.

Hmmmm… Do you suppose that’s kind of what the summary writer meant? That George Zucco is way better than an ordinary movie actor — he’s THEATRICAL (with gesture)! Perhaps he was just looking for a more impressive way of saying, “George Zucco is really, really good.” I eventually came to the conclusion he meant that George Zucco chews the scenery in a good way.

He is a pretty good actor. His presence will certainly be a selling point in my ongoing quest for movies to write about. Maybe one day I will even write a marvelously theatrical blog post.

How James M. Cain Makes Steven Nervous

How about a new feature called Tired on Tuesday? I may have suggested that before.

I was afraid this would happen when we did not watch a cheesy movie on Sunday. I was just too lazy to look for one. Instead, we watched two film noirs (films noir?) based on James M. Cain novels, The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) and Double Indemnity (1944).

I can’t write about these movies the way I usually do about more cheesy cinematic fare. They’re really good movies. I suppose I could do a compare/contrast about them, because both are about sexy blondes who enlist boyfriends to help kill their husbands. Or I could be silly and tell how my husband Steven gets a little nervous because they are two of my all-time favorite movies. Or I could bag both movies and write instead about the walk I took with my schnoodle Tabby yesterday.

What I cannot do, it seems, is go right downstairs and watch a cheesy movie or have a Mohawk Valley adventure so I have something to write about.

The funny thing is, I almost had a topic this morning. Steven was driving me to work, and I went into one of my foolish analyses of words, this time critiquing the name of a certain chain drug store. Steven’s reply was, “Blog post.” I won’t write it, though, because on reflection, I feel it is not a spot-on analysis.

And now I see I have over 200 words (love that word count feature), which by my definition makes a respectable blog post. Tune in tomorrow (if you will be so kind), when perhaps I will wax eloquent about Valentine’s Day. Happy Tuesday, everybody.

Why This is Not a Movie Post

I’m not giving up Wrist to Forehead Sunday, you can’t make me.

That previous sentence should have a semi-colon instead of a comma, but sometimes I regard punctuation as much art as science. The Punctuation Police and the Grammar Guardians can ding me all they like, because I am usually quite correct about these things.

Regular readers will realize I was too ill yesterday to partake in any Mohawk Valley adventures. Today I feel slightly less crappy but not yet un-crappy. Anyways, Sunday is almost always an off day for me.

Yesterday I watched a Hammer Studios film and today a Bela Lugosi movie. I could write about either one, only it also seems that I can’t. You know how I always put a Spoiler Alert. Well, the things I would be apt to talk about for these movies goes beyond spoiler and into “Well, why don’t you just tell us the whole damn movie while you’re at it!” These are things astute movie viewers may see coming (I did), but there is still an element of, “Wait a minute, it could be that…” The satisfaction is in saying, “I thought so!” and not “I read about that in a blog!”

You know, I’ve said too much already. Now I am afraid viewers will say, “What did she see coming… ah yes! Of course!” Instead of letting it unfold in front of them.

Or am I being silly? That, of course, is always a possibility. In any case, I see my word count is over 250 words. Quite respectable for typing with one wrist on my forehead (oh, OK, that’s only figuratively)(metaphorically?). I hope to see you on Middle-aged Musings Monday.

Almost a Run

I don’t suppose anybody has been waiting with bated breath for Running Commentary from Mohawk Valley Girl. Still, I have been unhappy about not running. However, this morning it was cold with potentially icy sidewalks. I could deal with the cold, but the sidewalks gave me pause. If I fell, I couldn’t be sure of landing where most of the padding is. More likely I would twist myself around in an effort to keep from falling and pull some muscle I didn’t even know was there.

My sister had suggested running on a mini-tramp. Easier on the knees and feet, she said. In fact, I did this for a short time some years ago. I still have the tramp. Full disclosure: it’s my mother’s and she hasn’t asked for it back yet. Thanks, Mom!

Earlier this morning I had done ten minutes’ worth of push-ups, crunches and whatever other exercises suggested themselves. Hey, you have to start somewhere and I haven’t been doing much besides walk lately. After Steven left for work, I hauled the mini-tramp out from under the bed in the second bedroom, put on running clothes and gave it a try.

My sister watches movies on her tramp. I was doing this too (in fact, I still haven’t seen the end of The Unsinkable Molly Brown)(oh, well, I’ve seen the ending, but I started watching it and didn’t run long enough… you know what I mean). I still have several horror movies on the DVR from October. I thought I’d try Devil Doll.

No, I’m not going to do a running/movie write-up. I have too much to say about this movie, and I only ran for 20 minutes.

If you could call it running.

This mini-tramp business will take some getting used to. Obviously your feet can’t move the same way. And I had a problem right away in that I wanted to make some notes from Robert Osborne’s pre-movie commentary. It’s on DVR, I reminded myself. Just don’t erase it at the end and you can watch the commentary again. Then I laughed at myself for thinking I was going to make it through an hour and a half movie on the mini-tramp.

Soon I came to the depressing conclusion that I do not find a movie as interesting to me as the outsides of other people’s houses. But I persevered. I mean, I liked the movie; I look forward to seeing the rest of it. But I would have preferred to be crocheting with pauses to make notes in the TV Journal.

Well, one can’t have everything. I did get some exercise in. A little later in the morning I took Tabby for a walk. That might be the subject of tomorrow’s blog post.

Curse You, Vincent Price!

What is it about Vincent Price? I start to write a perfectly straightforward post about one of his movies and I get all bogged down and confused and it takes me days to get it right.

At least, the one I started today hasn’t taken me days yet, but I can see which way the wind is blowing. First it was The Tingler. Now it’s The Mad Magician. What’s a blogger to do but write about the problems she’s having writing. (I didn’t end that last sentence with a question mark, because it is rhetorical. I don’t need any smart answers from the peanut gallery.)

After all, I avoided Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I think I’m entitled to a Middle-aged Musings Monday. I shall muse about my trials and tribulations as a writer.

The problem I had with The Tingler and am having with The Mad Magician is neither Writer’s Block nor Writer’s Blank. It’s quite the opposite. I have too much to say (some people think I have too much to say at all times, but I daresay they don’t read my blog, so we need not consider them).

Usually, having too much to say is not a problem. I just write and write till it’s all said. I find that fun. In this case, however, my thoughts do not flow in a logical fashion. I start out talking about pre-movie commentary, jump to the plot, jump back and add in the spoiler alert, remember something I forgot from the commentary, go off on a whole other tangent.

Some may say that’s still no problem. Just write it all down they say, perhaps in a condescending, overly patient voice (you know who you are). Sort it out later. Well, that is what I’m doing. However, these things take time and effort and a good deal more oomph that I can generally muster on a Monday.

I repeat, what’s a blogger to do?

Kind of a Time Warp

I had intended to have all posts about Halloween movies till Halloween night. I have plenty of material to work with, thanks to TCM and the miracle of DVR. Well, I was working on it, and let me tell you, my post on The Tingler is getting scary and not in a good way.

On the brighter side, I noticed yesterday on my computer that WordPress seems to be twelve hours ahead of me. Thus yesterday, when I wrote about Cat People, was Halloween. Today I can go on to November, or as the retail world seems to think, Christmas. I was thinking I could post this silliness tomorrow on Lame Post Friday, when I realized, according to WordPress, THAT’S TODAY!

However, as I wrote the preceding earlier, before beginning my shift at work, it was (and still is as I type this) Thursday. Non-Sequitur Thursday, in fact (if you saw me trying to rearrange the paragraphs of my Tingler post using asterisks, you would agree that it is). I was and still am having an indecisive day. I had to flip a coin to decide whether to drink coffee or water as I was writing before work (drinking both was ineligible for reasons I will not go into here).

I wrote more while at work, but it was fairly tiresome. There was one parenthetical comment I rather liked, but I can’t figure out how to fit it in now. At any rate, I am over 200 words. I deem that respectable. I will continue to work on my post about The Tingler and eventually publish it, regardless of the day WordPress or the calendar say it is.