Marlene Dietrich's ABC: A

I am off for a little jaunt and will have limited access to the blog for about a week, but it looks like Ms. Wang is holding down the fort solidly with some fine notes on this year's Tribeca Film Festival. Before I leave on my adventure, I'd like to introduce the beginning of an installment on what I predicted would be the finest book I'd ever read, Marlene Dietrich's ABC (see post below).

Dietrich has written her own dictionary. From A to Z she's picked out a variety of words accompanied by her own definitions that are grounds for some of the best merry-making in months. When Scarlett is slow and needs a little lift, you will find a new word defined here by Marlene, a single word cherry picked from the bunch. I shall start at the beginning, with A!

Academy Award
Sure-fire roles: Top-brass Biblical characters, priests, and victims of the following sad or tragic afflictions:

• Drunkeness
• *Blindness
• *Deafness
• *Dumbness
• Insanity
• Schizophrenia
• Mental disturbance

*single or combined
played in successful pictures. The more tragic the affliction, the more certain the Academy Award. The portrayal of these afflicted creatures is consider to be particularly difficult. This is not true. It is more dramatic, therefore more effective.

As voting for the Award is done exclusively by people belonging to the profession, it is un-understandable that those people should confuse the actor with the task. The public does it constantly, and understandably so. (Some critics do it too, which is unpardonable.)

If the Academy Awards were to be taken seriously, like the New York Drama Circle awards, there would be at least once in a while an award given to an actor who played a mediocre, bad or ineffective part brilliantly in an unsuccessful picture. Another reason for the Academy Award representing a delusion is the fact that the voting co-workers are heavily influenced by either friendship or envy.

Lately a new kind of award has been added--the deathbed award. It is not an award of any kind. Either the reciever has not acted at all, or was not nominated, or did not win the award the last few times around. It is intended to relieve the guilty conscience of the Academy members and save face in front of the public. The Academy has the horrible taste to have a star, choking with emotion, present this deathbed award so that there can be no doubt in anybody's mind why the award is so hurriedly given. Lucky is the actor who is too sick to watch the proceedings on television.

Ciao!

2009 Tribeca Film Festival: Day 2

If today’s screenings are any indication of the total variety and quality of the films in the festival this year, then this will be a most satisfying week and a half indeed. Today, I watched three films, and though it was not my intention, all three movies turned out to revolve mainly around the idea of “family” and what that idea means within a certain contemporary and cultural context.

FISH EYES
Yu Yan
China/South | Korea | North American Premiere | 2009 | 79 min

Picking up on the themes of such films as Zhang Ke Jia’s 24 City and Still Life, first-time director Zheng Wei helms this austere yet poignant tale about a young man, Deshui, and his father, who live a hardscrabble existence in one of China’s poorest desert regions. When the father takes in a mysterious young woman after she appears one day at the riverbed looking for sustenance, Deshui soon finds himself struggling to negotiate between an apparently obsolete set of values and his desire for a more modern way of life. This tension between the old and the new, the traditional and the novel, is rendered both visually and narratively in surprisingly powerful ways. Ever-constant is Deshui’s father as his sinewy and sun-browned body shuffles in and out of his dilapidated home. To say that he lives a life with no frills would be an understatement. Yet, the culmination of the father’s methodical and careful actions quickly comes into focus once the girl appears. Without a word, Deshui’s father takes the girl in as his own; and despite lacking many of the comforts of the modern world, it is the simplest of gestures and many kindnesses which he shows the girl that make her feel safe from the chaotic world outside. Both the beauty and cruelty of life are illustrated within a precious few seconds as the girl stares into a basin of water that the father has poured for her. A shard of glass once broken from a mirror has been hand-fashioned into one of the girl’s few treasured possessions on earth.

An image from Zheng Wei's Fish Eyes (2009)

Meanwhile, the modern world is constantly and literally crashing in—via motor bikes, dump trucks, even an earthquake—threatening to disrupt what little peace Deshui’s father is able to maintain within his own house. Desperate to realize the ideals and wealth of an industrialized China, Deshui engages in the illicit activities of a local gang in the hopes of being able to usher in a new way of living. However, as his own actions become increasingly risky, it becomes apparent that Deshui is so seduced by the empty promises of a capitalist Chinese society—promises which Zheng so shrewdly crystallizes in the film’s ubiquitous TV and radio commercials for the impending Olympic games—that he eventually loses sight of life’s true value. Even that which he holds most dear—the girl’s innocence—eventually transforms into a part of his newly found capitalistic worldview.

If you get the sense from my previous two paragraphs that this film must not have a happy ending, you would not be entirely wrong. However, neither would you be entirely right. Zheng is not satisfied with giving us any simple answers to China’s most recent turbulent changes. Rather, it is the ways in which he has sensitively captured these tensions onscreen that reveal both a unique understanding of these changes’ many complexities as well as an intense desire show the viewer what Chinese society risks losing by racing to compete with the rest of the modern world.


STILL WALKING
Aruitemo Aruitemo
Japan | New York Premiere | 2008 | 114 min

I will admit it: I do not know enough about today’s emerging Japanese cinema. I have not seen the much-acclaimed Tokyo Sonata. I am not even adequately familiar with the oeuvre of such legendary auteurs as Yasujiro Ozu. (Cineastes, I beg forgiveness.) Thanks to a blurb by Stephen Holden in the NY Times, however, Still Walking made my hit-list of must-see films for the festival. And a most fortunate addition it was.

An image from Hirokazu Kore-eda's Still Walking (2008)

Set almost completely in one location and centering around the unique conditions of one particular family’s dysfunction, the film could probably be best classified for American audiences as a family dramedy. Unlike the over-the-top and quirky dialogue, wild antics, and unseemly activities of many American family dramedies, however (i.e. Rachel Getting Married, The Family Stone, The Squid and the Whale), Still Walking’s most memorable qualities stem from director Hirokazu Kore-eda’s special attention to the physical structure of the home in which his characters live and interact as well as a patient and gentle incisiveness that works to explore the various relationships between his characters and the many secrets, regrets, infidelities, and sweet moments that lie therein. There is a comfort that his characters find in the familiarity of certain walls—even if the space within those walls is cramped and cluttered. Kore-eda’s lens focuses lovingly on objects within the home that are familiar to every multi-generational family: an old desk in whose drawers old trinkets and photographs abound; a grandmother’s kitchen, filled to the brim with items both functional and decorative; even an old tub whose mildewed cracks manage to look beautifully nostalgic in the morning light. It is among these objects and within these spaces that Kore-eda’s characters slowly then show their cards, proving that no one—not even an esteemed doctor—is immune to the fear of aging, or that a seemingly perfect housewife well into her seventies may unravel yet in the face of tragic loss.

Still Walking, which Holden calls a near “masterpiece,” may not be for everyone. Mostly dialogue-based, with a heavy emphasis on character, set design, and scene development, it will be most appreciated by those with a penchant for quiet, slow-moving dramas with a bit of a funny bone and a bittersweet tinge. Its actors’ performances are both tender and winning. And as I imply above, the photography is simply beautiful to look at. Just don’t expect anyone to crash a car into a tree.


RUDO Y CURSI
USA/Mexico | New York Premiere | 2008 | 102 min

Not since Y tu mamá también had Gael García Bernal and Diego Luna appeared together on the big screen. Both actors grew up playing alongside one another in various theatrical, cinematic, and television productions while living in Mexico City during the 1980s and 1990s. Nevertheless, it was unquestionably Y tu mamá también that launched the two into international stardom from which neither have faded over the years. In anything, Bernal’s and Luna’s careers have continued to grow and transform in significant ways. Though Bernal is perhaps more well-known for his roles in such high-profile features as The Motorcycle Diaries, Bad Education, and The Science of Sleep, Luna has also carved out a name for himself, acting in such big-budget Hollywood features as The Terminal, Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights, and Milk as well as smaller, independent festival darlings, such as Harmony Korine’s Mister Lonely (which appeared last year at Tribeca). Most recently, the two best friends have teamed up with Mexican producer Pablo Cruz to found their own production company, Canana Films, which aims to put out Mexican and Latin American-themed features that deal with issues of social justice. Their project, Sin Nombre, directed by Cary Fukunaga, generated a great deal of buzz at Sundance back in January, and received a limited release into theaters in March.

But for all the success these two friends have achieved in the last decade, fans have waited eagerly for a reunion. And now they have it in Rudo y Cursi.

An image from Carlos Cuaron's Rudo y Cursi (2008)

Directed by Carlos Cuaron, who wrote the screenplay for Y tu mamá también, Rudo y Cursi is an uproariously biting satire about the misadventures of two brothers from the rural Mexican countryside, who are both discovered by a shady soccer scout, only to find themselves suddenly catapulted into national stardom. Capitalizing upon the two actors’ professed signs of age (let’s keep it real: Bernal is only 30 and Luna only 29; but in the world of professional soccer, they’re no spring chickens), Cuaron posits the title characters as man-boys who are on the cusp of being past their prime. Fearing their own lack relevance, both Rudo and Cursi are looking for that one big break—essentially their last chance at escaping the mundane and arduous lives they lead as plantain farmers. But just as the character Deshui in Zheng Wei’s Fish Eyes is seduced by the promise of material gain and modern comforts, only to lose that sense of himself which once kept him grounded, so do the title characters Rudo and Cursi find themselves flailing amidst the chaotic and troubled waters of modern Mexico. Rudo, who has always dreamed of making it big as a musician and singer, finds that no one will take him seriously as anything other than a soccer player. Meanwhile, Cursi, who feels the pressure of having to provide for a family as well as maintaining an unsullied record as the goalie of his team, further indulges his fondness for making bets. Like many social satires, a variety of other characters, symbolizing the various ills of society, also wander through the story line: models and actresses, gamblers and pyramid scheme agents. But perhaps most notable of all is the reoccurring theme of the drug trafficking industry in Mexico—no doubt the focus of much of that country’s national consciousness in recent years.

Structurally, Cuaron, who also wrote the script, does well by borrowing from the classic sports movie narrative, even waxing a bit overly familiar (think A League of Their Own), to build up to a final showdown of the two teams on which the brothers find themselves playing opposite sides. After fighting viciously with one another and severing all ties, then following their own personal trajectories of hardships and loss, the two brothers are predictably enough set up to put everything they each have at stake on the outcome of that final game. What distinguishes the film from every other sentimental sports movie, however, is the fast-paced and often hilarious social commentary that Cuaron weaves throughout the story. Enhanced by Bernal’s and Luna’s immensely likable performances, Cuaron’s first outing as a director is enormously enjoyable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where only twenty-four hours ago, a number of the adoring public had shamelessly tried to ingratiate themselves to director Spike Lee (much to my mortification), the Apple Store in SoHo was the site of tonight’s Industry/Filmmaker Party. Though populated by hundreds of interesting folks dressed chicly in black (one particular gentleman was festooned in leather, fur, and gold), most attendees were loathe to dance, as space was limited, and the name of the game was schmooze. Ran into a bunch of lovely folks from Tribeca Film Institute, though. Also sighted old grad school mate and noted film blogger Karina Longworth of Spout.com as well as made the acquaintance of Dutch actress and singer Georgina Verbaan, who is apparently a big deal in her country.

2009 Tribeca Film Festival: Day 1

Just returned from the first in indieWire’s “Meet the Filmmaker” series, wherein noted directors and personalities within the film industry will be appearing throughout the festival at the Apple Store in SoHo to talk about their latest projects.

The first guest of the series was director Spike Lee, who has two films premiering at the Tribeca Film Festival this year: Kobe Doin’ Work and Passing Strange. Both films are essentially documentaries; however, what distinguishes them from the form and conventions of typical Hollywood documentaries lies in Lee’s intentions and, consequently, the way in which both films were shot and edited.

In the case of Kobe Doin’ Work, Lee was largely inspired by the 2006 documentary, Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait, directed by Philippe Parreno and Douglas Gordon. Known for having made somewhat of a critical splash at Sundance, Zidane is comprised almost entirely of a 90-minute soccer match shot in real time and focalized only through French soccer legend Zinedine Zidane’s perspective. More art film than sports documentary, Zidane foregoes any traditional sort of narration or expert commentary. Rather, Parreno and Gordon strive to replicate as closely as possible the experience of just one player—and not just any player, but the player—during one of the most momentous of live sporting events in a particular soccer season. Parreno and Gordon achieve this through an unprecedented amount of coverage and virtuosic editing to capture a unique viewing experience wherein they attempt to make the viewer feel as if he/she is literally on the field, following Zidane the entire time.

For Lee, whose loyal courtside presence at New York Knicks games is legendary, the choice to adapt the concept behind Zidane to the sport of basketball was a no-brainer. Like Gordon and Parreno, Spike chose to follow one player as iconic to basketball fans as Zidane is to soccer fans: Kobe Bryant. And like Zidane, Kobe focuses on only one game, shot in real time, and edited in such as way so as to make the viewer feel as if he/she were actually on the court, watching Bryant’s every move. However, as Lee explained at the event this evening, it was not just Zidane that motivated Lee to shoot as he did—using 30 cameras set up around the Staples Center to capture a key game between the Lakers and the Spurs. He was also partially frustrated by most traditional television network coverage of such games, which usually only ever covers players from a couple of different angles, most of which is shot from a distance, and is limited in its movements to pans left and right. To go a step even further than Parreno and Gordon, Lee also gained unprecedented access to his subject, Bryant's team, and the premises. Bryant was mic-ed for the entire game; coach Phil Jackson granted Lee access to the locker room during the pre-game and breaks; and after the game (which the Lakers won and during which Bryant scored a record 61 points), Bryant recorded an audio commentary track to narrate portions of the footage. While I have yet to see the film in its entirety, the clips which Lee did show suggest that while Kobe Doin’ Work may not be conceptually original (having taken many cues from Zidane), it does represent on screen the sport of basketball as it has never been portrayed in movies before and simultaneously captures the experience of a live sporting event through one of the rarest of viewpoints—that of one of the sport’s most celebrated figures.

After speaking at length about Kobe, Lee then went on to discuss his other film in the festival, Passing Strange. Though completely different from Kobe in subject matter—this time, the focus is the stage performance of the hit Broadway musical of the same name—Passing Strange does achieve something similar in that Lee manages to film a live performance in such a way that audiences are not typically used to seeing. He explained that the inspiration to film a live performance of the show was not actually self-motivated. While Lee had always been a fan of musicals (he revealed that as a child, he would often accompany his mother to Broadway shows), and though he was a great supporter of Passing Strange, the idea to actually film the show live came from one of the musical’s producers, Steve Klein, who approached Lee after the 2008 Tony Awards, when it was clear that the show would close within a matter of weeks. Lee lamented that during its run, the show was never truly marketed properly. Whereas the story focused on a young African American man growing up in the projects of L.A. during the 1970s, the show’s publicists and marketers had shied away from appealing to black and Latino audiences, for fear that its rock and roll sound would not resonate with them. Thus, while the show garnered warm critical reviews, it never broke out in quite the same way that a show like In the Heights did, which targeted its marketing and outreach specifically to Latino communities in order to draw in the right fan base. In response to Passing Strange’s failure to implement similarly successful marketing, Lee retorted, “I mean, [African Americans] made rock and roll!”

Like Kobe, the filmed performance of Passing Stange utilizes a dizzying array of camera angles and edits to create an entirely new experience of a live stage performance. Lee commented that the show itself was already so dynamic, so cinematic in its concept, design, and performance, that he felt it lent itself naturally to being filmed. Having seen and been a fan of the show myself, I was naturally intrigued to learn how Lee had repackaged the experience of live theater for movie-going audiences. To everyone’s frustration, however, the audio cut out several times during selected clips which were shown; and in the interest of time, the moderator was forced to curtail the presentation in order to move on to the Q & A.

Here, I must say, is when the evening with Lee began to mutate into something altogether wacky and a bit outrageous.

As with most of these types of events, which are open to the public, one can usually expect the audience to be a relatively decent mix of the adoring, the obnoxiously pretentious, and to a certain extent, the self-serving (those who might harbor some vague dream of getting close to or making contact with a celebrity in order to further their own designs). However—and I think it safe to make the connection in this case—because of Lee’s status within the African American community as a pioneer and a kind of hero, there seemed to be an alarmingly disproportionate number of the last type in attendance tonight… so much so that the Q & A literally devolved into a version of “Spike Lee: This Is Your Life!” and a job fair. It was all in all a bit shocking how brazenly a large number of people in the audience came right out and either tried to establish a connection to the director that didn’t previously exist or tried to pitch their projects to Lee under the auspices of asking him a question within a public forum. A sampling of the choicest moments:

Woman #1: Hi, Spike. I’m friends with one of your good friends from high school?
Spike: You went to John Dewey?
Woman #1: No, but I’m friends with a good friend of yours who did. ______?
Spike: ______?
Woman #1: Yeah. She’s at Essence magazine now?
Spike: Uh... all right. Well, I’m going to have to go back and look at my yearbook, but I believe you.
Woman #1: She said that she just spoke to you a couple weeks ago.
Spike: I have no idea who that is.

Woman #2: Mr. Lee, my family and I just started a publishing company…?
Lee: Yes. All right.
Woman #2: Yeah, and um, we just started writing a script about how we came about to do this.
Lee: Ok.
Woman #2: So, I just wanted to ask you, um, how difficult to you think it will be for us to do this?
Lee: Do what, exactly?
Woman #2: To make this movie.
Lee: Hard. [audiences chuckles] I mean, that’s just the world that we live in. It’s still hard for me to get movies made. [laughs] But, honestly… start out with a really great script. The script and the story has to be really, really great. And then, you might have a chance.
Woman #2: Well, then, I have a present for you! [holds her script up in the air]
Lee: Oh, well… my man, Earl, will get it from you.

This last type of exchange probably happened at least a half-dozen more times, in which a young aspiring filmmaker got the mic, expressed his or her adoration of Lee’s work, then proceeded to talk at length about who he or she was, what he/she was doing now, and offered Lee either a DVD of his/her project’s trailer, a script, a t-shirt, or a prospectus. In fact, Lee’s assistant Earl (a life-long friend whom Lee has known since high school days) collected so many “gifts” from the audience that at one point, the calling out of his name (“Earl!”) became a running joke. Lee accepted it all as graciously as one could imagine, acknowledging that he understood that a lot of young, struggling black artists and aspiring writers and directors were out there “trying to get on their grind”; but, at a certain point, the moderator was compelled to remind the audience that the Q & A was meant to focus only on Lee’s work and should not serve as a job fair. Lee was also compelled to reaffirm this sentiment a few minutes later when the stream of such self-serving “questions” had not yet been stemmed. Though I know full well what a struggle it is to “matter” in any field—much less an artistic one—and while I am sure that the majority of people in the audience tonight were true fans and did not mean to cause any disrespect, to this blogger’s mind, the Q & A was altogether one of the most uncomfortable and cringe-worthy film-related experiences I have ever witnessed thus far.

It wasn’t, however, a total loss. A few audience members did actually ask some interesting questions, which spurred Lee on to talk about topics as wide-ranging as gun control (“Excuse my language, but f*ck the NRA.”), to the use of music in his films, to gentrification of New York City neighborhoods. In the end, I left the Apple Store feeling a strange mix of admiration as well as mortification for Lee. Though, I’m sure that Lee will be just fine—after all, whatever nonsense had happened tonight was an indirect result of his own immense achievements—I can’t help but be morbidly curious to see if the podcast of the event (available on iTunes soon) will include the Q &A portion in its entirety, or if only the most respectful questions, unrelated to any opportunistic self-plugs, will remain.

2009 Tribeca Film Festival (Un)Officially Kicks Off!

While the eighth annual Tribeca Film Festival doesn't officially kick off until Wednesday, parties and events for industry folks began in earnest throughout the day today.

Just returned from the NY Filmmakers party, hosted by the New York State Governor's Office for Motion Picture and Television Development (otherwise known as New York State Loves Film). A decidedly more casual and low-key affair than the the Vanity Fair soiree, which was happening simultaneously further downtown, the event started off with dozens of Tribeca Film Festival organizers and New York based industry folks mingling over drinks and hour d'oeuvres at the Union Square Ballroom. Then, after opening remarks from Tribeca's Director of Programming, David Kwok, and Executive Director of NYSGOMPTD (good Lord, what an acronym!), Pat Swinney Kaufman, the party really got underway. Food, open bar, live DJ...

Perhaps the biggest takeaway was Kaufman's reassurance and small cheer for the reinstatement of New York State's film and television production credits-- a huge incentive for many film and television productions to operate in and around New York, which inadvertently creates thousands of jobs for crew members and talent as well as brings millions of dollars in revenue to the state. (Earlier in 2009, it had seemed as if the tax abatement program was all but kaput, since the state had run out of funds. However, the announcement was made in late March that the state budget had received a cash infusion of $350 million in order to keep the program going for one more year.)

But, enough with all that. What I'm really excited for is the actual festival. So many films to see; so many panels to attend; so little time in which to take it all in!

On the docket for tomorrow: the first event in indieWire*'s "Meet the Filmmaker" series, taking place throughout festival dates at the Apple Store in SoHo. Director Spike Lee will be speaking about his filmed production of Passing Strange, which brings the hit Broadway musical of the same name to the screen. Look back here tomorrow for my report!

And good night.

Mother Goddam

I have a prediction: Mother Goddam will be the best book I ever read. This is the brassy dame Bette Davis's memoir that, based on the title alone, is utterly worth my time. A Time magazine review excerpt stokes my enthusiasm nicely:

In 1946, Bette Davis earned more ($328,000) than any other woman in the U.S.; one ex-husband, clearing out with the pretty nursemaid, even sued for alimony. Says she: "The only future marriage I would even remotely consider would be with Paul Getty." But she admits that her own rapturous intensity simply "exhausted" most of her mates. "Many men." she protests, "find their fathers in women. I am the least likely father symbol extant."

Oh, Bette!

Thanks to this review I was alerted to another autobiography I simply must read, this time from the vigorous Marlene Dietrich. It's called Marlene Dietrich's ABC. Here's a little treat, courtesy of the same Time magazine review, where Ms. Dietrich offers her definition of a gentleman:

"A man who buys two of the same morning paper from the doorman of his favorite night club when he leaves with his girl."

Sexy and smart, it's the only way a woman should be!

The shipping fees cost more than the original, albeit lovingly worn, hardcover editions themselves. This makes for a happy Monday indeed.

An Old Hollywood Joke

Two goats, finishing up the contents of a film can. One says, "What 'ya think?" The other replies, "I prefer the book."

This is "an old Hollywood joke" per the chapter heading of the a book I am rereading. That is all, have a pleasant Sunday.

Interview with Josh Weinberg up Today!

Here is a quick link to my interview with director Josh Weinberg of The Website Is Down fame, up today on The Rumpus! Enjoy!


And this just in, Weinberg's video has been nominated for a Webby Award! You can vote for it here, in the category for best viral video. Go, Josh, go!

The Website Is Down: "Excel Hell"

Director Josh Weinberg's viral video series The Website Is Down is back with a new episode, "Excel Hell." Starring Weinberg himself and the rest of his usual cohort, including Casey Cochran as Chip the Sales Guy, "Excel Hell" plays from the first-person view of Chip this time. There are no more rounds of crotch-shooting Halo duels, but you will find Chip wrestling with Minesweeper and aiming for victory in a little Wolfenstein 3D.

My interview with Weinberg will be up shortly, but while you're waiting, check out "Excel Hell."

Two Lovers (2009)

Just back from director James Gray's new release, Two Lovers, and I can now officially begin the tentative ordering of my 2009 top ten list.


Gray's film over the course of its two hours was one of two films that I've seen in 2009 that gave me a relaxed perspective to simply watch and be a part of it as an experience (the first most being Olivier Assayas's Summer Hours, 2008; it is a perfect film), and it was revelatory. I define a good "experience" in film as something with which I have a tacit exchange that is incited by storytelling, characters, or a kind of scenery that has a knowingness and depth--the last, a characteristic imperturbably strong in Gray's Two Lovers.

It ranks among the better of the New York films that are important, if for no other reason, than for the way the city is captured and caressed in the frame (another recent example includes Ramin Bahrani's Chop Shop, 2008; and of course the old standard of a New York film, Woody Allen's Manhattan, 1979). The area of Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, where the film takes place, is as intimate as home from the first few scenes. Its segments shot in Manhattan and on the subway are so suffused with the energy of the city it's almost as if you are there.

But the scenery is just a fraction of what embodies this film's strength. I was so happy for the temporary amnesia that made me forget the celebrity of both Gweneth Paltrow and, now infamously, Joaquin Phoenix, and sink deeply into the offbeat quirks, vices, and endearments of their characters. Leonard (Phoenix) and Michelle (Paltrow) are neighbors and lovers in a latent, friendly way, where they pose as confidants and best friends amidst palpable sexual tension. It's a relationship wonderfully absorbed in the symbolic Rear Window-like proximity they have to one another; there is almost always the superficial separation of a phone call or text message in their exchanges as they look across to each other from their rear bedroom windows.

But perhaps that tension is more suited to Leonard as he passively tries to coax her away from the affair she is having with a wealthy married man reluctant to commit to her. Michelle remains, like her character's flighty nature, mostly oblivious to Leonard's affections, punctuated perfectly by Leonard's tracing against her arm the words "I love you" with his fingertips, while she lays sleeping, unaware beside him in one of their few quiet moments alone together in person.

The duplicity Leonard creates in his love live as he toggles between the consummated relationship between he and the daughter of a neighboring family, Sandra (Vinessa Shaw), and his imagined, then hastily initiated one with Michelle, is in the end something we're left to believe may never end for him. Mentally he can have the excitement and lust he projects upon Michelle in order to keep himself satisfied and sane in his less stormy association with Sandra. For all of Leonard's bipolar irrationality, he seems to have discovered the most rational way to live with another, in peaceful final communion, not quarreling with regret.