Last night D and I went to a coffee shop and then to a movie theater to see The Great Gatsby. I loved: the soundtrack, the cinematography, the set design, the costume design, the depiction of Gatsby's parties, the fact that the script relied heavily on the novel's language. I adored the panoramic views of New York. I thought Carey Mulligan made a fine Daisy Buchanan AND here's a fun fact: did you know she's one of the younger sisters in the 2005 Pride and Prejudice, too? Doesn't look anything like she does now and that movie isn't terribly old.
I didn't like: this version of Gatsby. He came off as cra-crazay and manic and sort of stalker-ish. Afterwards D and I agreed that DiCaprio played the same role once before and it's called Howard Hughes. Robert Redford did it MUCH better. Now I'm wondering, WAS Gatsby supposed to be interpreted as sort of a stalker? He came off as more idealistic and less nutty in the book to me. Also, screenwriters, yes, Gatsby says "Old sport," often. But NOT in every sentence. Sheesh. Heard of moderation?
For what it's worth, Mr. D really liked the movie and he's never read the book. I gave him the set up, but didn't give any spoilers. He thought it was a great story and also loved the cinematography and music. As we drove home, I assaulted him with facts about the book and F. Scott Fitzgerald and literary history because I'm helpful like that. To this day "I just remembered it was my birthday" still strikes me as the most random line in almost all of literature. D hypothesized that maybe it WAS F. Scott's birthday the day he wrote that scene and just stuck it in there and it never got taken out. Thoughts. anyone?
Was it worth $10 to see it on the big screen with other similarly inclined movie-goers? Yes.
Could I tell who was heading to Star Trek and Iron Man and Gatsby just by looking around at the crowd?
Also, D and I were sated with awesome movie previews, which I must say are a critical part of the whole movie-going experience. The previews annoy me at home when watching a DVD, but in a theater, I expect to see plenty of them. In fact, I feel ripped off when I go to a movie and they only play one preview.
In other news, Mr. B came inside yesterday telling me that the husband and wife robins attacked him, too. He was trying to check out their nest and they went nuts.
Two nights ago after a reallyreallyreally long day of subbing for 2nd grade, running to baseball, running errands, corralling kids and pumping green slurry out of the pool I took a shower. Then as I lay in bed I remembered I'd left the faucet running outside, so I stepped onto the porch to shut it off. The faucet is next to my potting bench, the spot where a robin will always make a nest every spring. Still damp from my shower, I disturbed the robin, got shat on, and that robin squawked and flew wildly around my head while I cursed and jumped and made my own strange sounds. We freaked each other out pretty badly. In retrospect, it might have been two robins. It sure felt like two robins. I was so peeved to have to clean up again before bed.
We have tulips, pear tree blossoms and Team Testosterone is digging another HUGE hole in the field. Pictures to come soon.
Spill it, reader. Did you or do you plan to see The Great Gatsby?