Author: James McNally

Oscars

I have surprisingly little to say about last night’s Oscar ceremony. I was pleased that Chicago didn’t sweep everything. I was pleased that The Pianist got some recognition. I enjoyed Adrien Brody‘s speech, especially the snogging he laid on Halle Berry. I was disappointed that three of the year’s best movies were essentially ignored: About Schmidt, Adaptation, and Far From Heaven. I wasn’t surprised that Michael Moore made an ass of himself (but I still like him). And though I don’t like Eminem, I’m glad his song won. I liked Steve Martin’s low-key but sometimes biting humour. And I’m happy that they finished by midnight. That is all.

Some friends told me that the Independent Spirit Awards were much better, and I’m disappointed that I wasn’t able to watch them.

42 Up

In 1964, British television aired a documentary entitled Seven Up, in which they interviewed a group of 14 seven-year old schoolchildren. Every seven years later, another documentary appeared to follow the progress of their lives. 42 Up (1998) is the latest of these films, and it is utterly compelling. The way the film maps the course of these children’s dreams and aspirations through the years gives you a real insight into both their individual lives and the society in which they grew up. My only regret is that if I watch any of the earlier films, I’ll know what happens afterward. Watching this film made me wonder if I’d like my life to be documented in this way. It must have been difficult for these people as middle-aged adults to look back on some of the things they wanted when they were children or teenagers or young adults. Happily, this film finds almost all of them in a period of contentment as I suppose is the task of middle-age. Highly recommended, although I’d try to track down some of the earlier films first.

Shock Tactics

I was reading an article by Alex Ross in this week’s New Yorker about German philosopher and music critic Theodor Adorno when I was stopped cold by the following paragraph:

Tragically, Adorno was himself a victim of the shock tactics of pop culture. In April, 1969, a group of female activists interrupted his lecture “An Introduction to Dialectical Thinking” by flashing their breasts in his face and taunting him with flowers. He died a few months later, on August 6, 1969. It was twenty-four years to the day after the atomic destruction of Hiroshima.

Was anyone else crumpled into laughter? Maybe you’d need to read the whole article to find this funny. Adorno was a very serious guy, and the serious way this “attack” was described just reduced me to giggles. That’s just me, I guess.