Weekend roundup and the curious case of my relationship to David Fincher
David Fincher just doesn't do it for me. I hate to say that, being I'm a member of a tribe of movie-loving, film-industry-working geeks. Not loving David Fincher is akin to wanting to stomp on bunnies among my friends. I want to love him. He has considerable talent that I cannot ignore. He has this tremendous ability to wring top-notch performances from the actors who work with him. But his movies do not resonate with me.
Take Seven: beautifully shot, interesting onscreen dynamics, gruesome effects, but I wasn't devastated by what happened to the characters in that film as I believe I was meant.
Zodiac: Another beautiful movie with a fantastic cast about a subject I find interesting that I completely forgot I saw until the Husband reminded me.
Yesterday, we went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons, a movie the Husband had already seen at a local movie festival he attends. I was warned to have tissues ready and to be prepared to "lose my shit." I believe tH was more than a little disappointed with me afterward when I shrugged and said, "Nice movie, but I don't get what all the fuss is about." I was more emotionally affected by the trailer for The Wrestler (and don't even get me started on Aronofsky and my near-despisal of him).
I am a movie wus. I am always waiting for that moment that will move me. I am prime movie manipulation material. I live to get swept up into the action onscreen, forget my own name, and allow the emotions of the characters wash over me. This never happens in Fincher films and I don't know why.
One note, though: the depiction of New Orleans in this movie is spot-on, beautiful, tragic, and honest. Only one other movie has captured the essence of my hometown so eloquently, and it unfortunately starred John Travolta. Also, for the record, Brad Pitt's work in New Orleans has cemented my love for him forever. He isn't simply another celebrity attaching himself to a cause to appear cool. He cares deeply about the revival of my great city, poured millions of dollars of his own cash into his enterprise, and changed the location for Buttons to set it in New Orleans, to remind people what the whole country is on the brink of losing: an historic, beautiful, contradictory city with more culture in its pinkie than most cities have whole-bodied.
But Fincher and I, we just don't mesh well. I found Buttons to be a touching, beautiful, piece of wall candy that entertained me for three hours, but no more. Nothing in that movie affected me on a deeply emotional level (as did, say, WALL-E) that caused me to think upon it for hours afterward. It is a fine movie, but no more, in my opinion. And I like more in my epics.
Then I got a new cell phone, with an Austin number to go with it. Perhaps it is strangely fitting that I had just exited the movie that was as much an homage to my hometown as it was an examination of the ways we choose to live our lives, and then get rid of my 504 area code. I thought I would be more nostalgic about it, giving up a number I'd had for seven years, my last tie to my home. Instead, my more practical side took control and I honestly hadn't thought about it until this moment.
Besides, it isn't my last tie to my home. I have an entire family, memories, history, and more than a couple "New Orleans: Proud to Call it Home" bumper stickers (one in Greek, even!) to remind me that, no matter where I may call home, I will always have ties to New Orleans.