In Her Own Words

First a funny aside: “In my own words” was what I wrote at the request of the Yearbook Director as I retire from teaching this June. After writing a six sentence blurb (1 sentence per every 5 years if yo do the math), I received an email back, asking, ‘can you condense it?’. An ironic end to thirty years of love and dedication to the teaching and parenting of teens and tweeners. When I meet my maker, hopefully many years from now, don’t be surprised if my tombstone intimates I was from the state of Rhode Island, since surely I can condense that, too.(think abbreviations)

Fortunately, for a bigger star, Ingrid Bergman was gifted nearly two hours. And sure, I’m no Academy Award winner, but I think I’m worth a meaty paragraph But back to Ingrid.

Ingrid Bergman: In Her Own Words (Jag ar Ingrid) was not only a gorgeous documentary, but a neat surprise to hear that Ingrid’s first marriage was to a University of Rochester trained brain surgeon. Just to hear her say the “I stayed in Rochester” was a thrill, and that’s saying something considering the weathermen are simply begging us to stay now with temperatures below freezing on April 9, 2016.

I like that Ingrid lived her life without caring what was the current norm. While I don’t condone affairs, I really don’t see how Hollywood types can ever remain monogamous. I mean, you’re basically instructed to conjure a romance in many film plots.

She lived a full life in many different countries and God Bless her since the dreaded breast cancer took her relatively early (67). Stig Bjorkman’s documentary does sophisticated work to de-sensationalize her struggles making this film a high class biographical exercise.

Love Strange, but Chopin Marvelous

marisa tomei

Saw “Love is Strange” at my favorite theater, The Little in Rochester, New York. I’ve been a fan of Marisa Tomei forever and while I’d like to say this is a knockout performance equal to “Before the Devil Knows Your Dead”, alas, it’s not Oscar season just yet.

The best thing about the movie was the Chopin soundtrack, which was an audio bubble bath after a long day. I really like Al Molina, too. I’ve been a sucker for him since his gun brandishing coke head in “Boogie Nights”.

But the story has holes and one semi big narrative leap which had been foreshadowed ad nausea.