On a quiet Monday morning in their home nestled in the quaint English countryside, we meet Kate and Geoff Mercer as they plan their 45th anniversary party for the end of the week. Childless, they have just each other and are looking to celebrate their union after have to cancel their 40th anniversary party due to Geoff's bypass surgery. And then the postman brings Geoff a letter. And that very simple and seemingly uneventful plot line gets enormously complicated. Geoff learns that his former fiancee, Katya, has been found dead. Frozen under an icy glacier somewhere in the Swiss Alps and that's one gruesome way to go. This news unlocks a flood of memories for Geoff. And a hornet's nest of emotions for Kate who did not even know of Katya's existence in her husband's life. "45 Years" by director Andrew Haigh is one of those quiet movies that actually has an underlying scream. Nothing happens and yet a lot happens. Kate notices that Geoff is still obsessed with Katya. He sneaks up to the attic at night to run old slides of them together. And, suddenly, Kate can smell a strange perfume in the house. As Geoff's obsession grows, so does Kate's. And you rightfully expect an explosion at the anniversary party. But, indeed, everything that "45 Years" does is in mannered emotions and feelings. You can feel the pain of the characters but it doesn't hit you over the head with anger. The ordeal is all very civilized, even if the characters are falling apart right before your eyes. Charlotte Rampling as Kate has been nominated for an Oscar and rightfully so. Like Jennifer Lawrence's work in "Joy," the film succeeds completely because she has carried in on her back. Except, in "45 Years," you can't overlook the wonderful portrayal of Geoff by legendary British actor Tom Courtenay. He was unfortunately overlooked by the Academy and definitely lends to the film's power. You live through this somewhat harrowing week with these characters not knowing exactly what will happen at that anniversary party. And, just like in real life, the ending is left a bit ajar. You think you know what happens next. But you may not. Like the title of today's piece, is it a happy anniversary? Or not? The question is left dangling at the end and you think about it on your way home. When a film makes you think about it days later, you know it's a darn good one. LEN'S RATING: Three-and-a-half stars. Dinner last night: Pot roast and vegetables at the home of good friends Jill and Larry.
You may be wondering. What kind of a cheat is this? Calling up memories from just a few months ago. How nostalgic can that be? Well, pretty darn. Because it was a month of my existence that I will never get back. And ranks perhaps as the single worst month of my life. Luckily, I have had some great memories since to take the sting off those 30 days last Fall. But I will never forget how I felt and I will endeavor to never feel that way again. Of course, that will require me to never again trip over my own two feet and shatter my right kneecap. Yeah, well. I'm generally in pretty good health. My internist has frequently said during annual physicals that I've got the blood work of a twenty-year-old. Of course, I've got the knees of an eighty-year-old and that negates some of the positives. But, by and large up to 2015, I'm notoriously healthy. Then we get the floating gallstone which never really gets diagnosed and treated for about six months, thanks to an idiotic radiologist who misread some MRI results. And that problem became very acute in November. Persistent abdomen pains. The taste and smell of bile in my head. Liquid coming out of me in colors I have not seen before. And the inability to eat, since any food down the gullet prompted a series of dry heaves. So, combine those problems with a fractured kneecap and you've got a November to dismember. You see the photo above on the day of the fracture. Halloween. For the first time ever in my life, I am the one being taken to an emergency room as opposed to being the one taking somebody else. That's my foot at the end of the gurney, post X-ray. A series of pictures that were so horrifying that my friend could actually read the results herself. I'm told surgery is pending. Even a shot of morphine did nothing. For the first time in my life, I need crutches and I have to rely on others to pick up my mail. Move my laundry basket from my bedroom to the washer and dryer. And even pick up the Los Angeles Times lying outside my front door. For a week, I was hopping around my apartment on crutches. With the eating problems, I certainly wasn't cooking. If I ingested more than 600 calories a day, it was a lot. My meals consisted of toasted English muffins and cups of Greek yogurt. Even on one leg, I was committed to taking a shower a day and washing my hair. Somehow I was able to do this but it required an hour of my time each morning for a ten minute shower. Putting on socks took another hour. Frequently, I didn't even want to get out of bed. I was so sick of my comforter that I threw it out on December 1. To make matters worse, the owner of my condo paid a visit one Sunday. Not to make sure I was managing okay with the crutches. Nope, he wanted to tell me personally that he was raising my rent 700 dollars. Eventually, I will have the last laugh on him. But, in November 2015, it was brutal news. I suddenly realized how quickly your mind can go from positive to negative thoughts. It can happen in an instant. I was so down about my situation that I wondered if I would ever recover. Is the downward and fatal spiral in health that happens to all of us eventually? You do end up thinking weird things when you are alone and incapacitated. Still, I strove to work and write every day, although my production was extremely limited and unsuccessful. I was faced with a visit to an orthopedic surgeon who would review my situation. The process of getting there was tantamount to landing soldiers on Normandy Beach in June of 1944. Luckily, the prognosis there was not as grim. No surgery was required on the kneecap. It would heal on its own as nature intended. The only problem was that I had to wear a knee immobilizer for a month. This contraption did slip under my pants and could be concealed but was the equivalent of what President Franklin Delano Roosevelt wore. It was clunky, awkward, and painful. Another half-hour every morning was devoted to strapping on that device. But it allowed me to ditch the crutches. And now it only took me ten minutes to walk to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I have never slept as much in my life as I did in November of 2015. The naps took me away from misery. This was strange coming from somebody who likes to be fully awake and alert a lot of the day. I had to cancel two trips to NY, including my annual early December visit to see some Broadway shows. I consumed my days sitting in the recliner with this hunk of metal and plastic and velcro propped up like meat hanging in a butcher shop window. Because I wasn't cooking or really eating, my choice of television fare was truly suspect. I watched lots and lots and lots of the Food Network. It kept me going. I savored all the chefs sharing their thoughts on what to make for Thanksgiving. I myself would not be cooking this holiday for the first time in years. I was truly kicking myself while I was down. Because the fracture was on my right knee, I couldn't drive. But I was bound and determined to do so. And, as soon as I mastered the FDR-like brace, I dragged myself down to the garage and lowered myself into the car as if I was Tom Hanks getting into the capsule on the set of Apollo 13. That process alone was another hour out of my busy day. I desperately wanted to be part of life again and, thankfully, my childhood best bud Leo offered to come up and take me to the movies. As much as I despise Daniel Craig as James Bond, I thoroughly enjoyed Spectre. Indeed, it could have been the worst movie in the world and I would have been a happy camper. I was back out amongst the living. My goal for normalcy was Friday, December 2. I had a business meeting scheduled at William Morris and my aim was to walk into those offices without the aid of crutches, a cane, or a sherpa. And I did. I walked with a slight limp but I worked that seamlessly into the discussion. That was the turning point and suddenly I became myself again. I looked back at the 30 or so days of November 2015 and remembered how low I got. I learned for the first time ever how an upbeat personality can be altered with the flip of a switch. Or the crack of a knee. Ultimately, the gallstone was removed. The knee has returned to almost a creaky normal. And I am in NY today. This is a Sunday memory that I will tuck away for posterity, but hope to never revisit again. Dinner last night: Sausage, peppers, and onions at Carlo's in Yonkers.
Here's the historic Chinese Theater on Hollywood Boulevard back in 1955 when a subway train blew air up Marilyn's skirt. Or something like that. Note the big sign heralding that this film was in Cinemascope. Back then, movie theaters were surprisingly in a fight for patrons against that new fangled television set in the living room. So they used gimmicks like wide screens and stereophonic sound to lure folks back in from of the big screen. It's hard to believe that the motion picture industry was that vulnerable in the 50s. Today, there's plenty of room for both film and TV. The only trouble is that there's usually nothing good to see in either place. But, at least this February, we have the Oscar nominated stuff dominating your local cineplex. With the awards one week away, let's see what's cluttering our movie houses. You know the monthly routine, gang. I'll sift through the entertainment section of the LA Times and give you my gut reaction to what's playing. At least at the Chinese Theater, you can go and look at the footprints if the movie inside sucks. Brooklyn: Like the borough, this thing is still hanging around. And the more I think about this film, the more I think I overrated it when I first saw it. 45 Years: Blog review coming. Worth your time. Creed: Reviewed here recently. Not worth your time. The Big Short: Reviewed here recently. Perhaps one of the two movies that could wind up as Best Picture. Spotlight: Reviewed here recently. The other movie that could wind up as Best Picture. Bridge of Spies: I finally caught up to this flick On Demand and enjoyed it thoroughly. A stylish piece of history from Steven Spielberg. I never reviewed it, but it's definitely getting three-and-a-half Len stars. Carol: Blog review coming. If I can stay awake. Get the picture? Hail, Caesar!: I had five friends who saw it opening weekend and hated it. Then my pastor tells me she loved it. How does one reconcile that disparity?? Room: Reviewed here recently. Great performance by Brie Larson, not the cheese. The Lady in the Van: Proof that Maggie Smith can't simply be nominated for every single role. Son of Saul: To be followed by Saul Meets Godzilla. The Good Dinosaur: Only for those who haven't lost faith in Pixar. Crazy About Tiffany: A documentary all about that story that has nothing but blue boxes. Anomalisa: This is one of those weird adult animated films that probably makes no sense. Gimme me Bugs and Daffy any day. Cabin Fever: A remake of a 2002 horror film and....why???? We Are Twisted F...ing Sister: A documentary about...um, duh. Race: All about Jesse Owens and the 1936 Berlin Olympics. You see how that title has a double meaning? I bet you thought I wasn't going to pick up on that. The Forbidden Room: A movie that allegedly involves a submarine, a woodsman, cave dwellers, vampire bananas, Charlotte Rampling, and Geraldine Chaplin. That's a joke all by itself. Forsaken: A western with Kiefer and Donald Sutherland. Oh, how cute is that? Snowtime!: An animated musical from France about a snowball fight. I'm not kidding. Risen: All about Jesus' final weeks. As if he's starring on Broadway. Concussion: Blog review coming. A head injury all to itself. Daddy's Home: Will Ferrell stars. So is Len. The Danish Girl: I finally got to see it via a screener. Good performances. Eddie Redmayne is one good looking chick. Dirty Grandpa: Robert DeNiro has no bad script filter whatsoever. Fifty Shades of Black: Gee, are we going to go through every crayon in the Crayola box? How to Be Single: Now they come up with a manual??? Deadpool: It's not about predicting which celebrity will die next? The Revenant: A friend had a great line. Told me this movie has so many weird noises that it sounded like a two-and-a-half hour commercial for Dulcolax. Where to Invade Next: More crap from Michael Moore. He loves most European countries more than America. So move already. 13 Hours: You won't find Hillary Clinton eating her Goobers at this movie. Star Wars - The Force Awakens: It won't stop playing until it has our very last dollar. The Hateful Eight: I hear that the first two thirds of this three hour long effort are terrific, but that the last hour is virtually unwatchable. The Finest Hours: One of those rescue sagas that saves everybody but the audience. The 5th Wave: The world is ending...one more time. Misconduct: A young attorney is caught between his firm's senior partner (Al Pacino) and a drug mogul (Anthony Hopkin). Well, that's a terrific pairing. So how come I have heard zero about this movie? Joy: Blog review coming, but here's a sneak preview. Surprisingly better than I thought. Ride Along 2: Stop it before it kills again. Dinner last night: Sandwich at the New York apartment.
Well, we already knew that Jennifer Lawrence was a star, but her latest triumph "Joy" solidifies her stature one more time. This girl can really act and I was surprised to learn she's only 25. There is a long, long career ahead of her provided her agents know how to pick good scripts. Indeed, "Joy" might not have worked without anybody else in the lead. It did not get good reviews and, besides the Oscar buzz for Lawrence, most friends told me they did not like it. But I felt I needed to see for myself. And, frankly, "Joy" is one of those tour de force performances that actually elevates a mediocre screenplay to soaring heights. This is a true story about famed TV shopping network star Joy Mangano who struggled to get past her dysfunctional family upbringing to make a name for herself. Actually, she literally cleans up as she invents a miracle floor mop as well as some other nifty inventions for the home. Joy goes from rags to riches and you follow the painful journey with her. Lawrence brings out all the suffering and, as a result, you are completely invested in the character from virtually the first reel. For me, who only really watches home shopping networks to laugh at the stupidity, this enlightened me to the actual world behind the scenes of these huge, money-making conglomerates. Bradley Cooper, who along with co-stars Lawrence and Robert DeNiro appear in every movie director David O. Russell ever does, gives us a guided tour of then-QVC and that alone is worth the price of popcorn. There are some wonderful touches in "Joy." Her mother is addicted to soap operas and you see the same actors doing the same scenes over and over even though the movie spans almost twenty years. You also get to enjoy Susan Lucci and my old "Knots Landing" Donna Mills on the big screen and that, for me, was worth the price of the Buncha Crunch I bought at the concession stand. And, of course, "Joy" treats us to Melissa Rivers (!!!) playing her own mother Joan who also crafted a cottage industry selling crappy jewelry to housewives in Bumfuk, Iowa. I don't understand the bad reviews for "Joy," because I was captivated the whole way through. But, at the same time, I realize it probably would not have worked with anybody else but Jennifer Lawrence in the lead role. And I am betting she's going to give us a lot more...ahem...joy for many years to come. LEN'S RATING: Three-and-a-half stars. Dinner last night: Had a big lunch so nothing really.
Happy birthday, Michael Jordan. This day also marks the first day ever of excessive perspiration. 364: ROMAN EMPEROR JOVIAN DIES AFTER A REIGN OF EIGHT MONTHS. HE IS FOUND DEAD IN HIS TENT UNDER SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES. CSI Rome. 1500: DUKE FRIEDRICH AND DUKE JOHANN ATTEMPT TO SUBDUE THE PEASANTRY OF DENMARK. The Dukes of Denmark. 1600: THE PHILOSOPHER GIORDANO BRUNO IS BURNED ALIVE FOR HERESY IN ROME. Got a match? 1621: MYLES STANDISH IS APPOINTED AS FIRST COMMANDER OF THE ENGLISH PLYMOUTH COLONY. Myles to go before he rests. 1753: IN SWEDEN FEBRUARY 17 IS FOLLOWED BY MARCH 1 AS THE COUNTRY MOVES FROM THE JULIAN CALENDAR TO THE GREGORIAN CALENDAR. If your birthday is on February 18, 1752, you're still one year old. 1801: AN ELECTORAL TIE BETWEEN THOMAS JEFFERSON AND AARON BURR IS RESOLVED WHEN JEFFERSON IS ELECTED PRESIDENT BY THE US HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. I bet Florida screwed up again. 1854: THE UNITED KINGDOM RECOGNIZES THE INDEPENDENCE OF THE ORANGE FREE STATE. So I guess it's grapefruit juice every morning? 1864: AMERICAN CIVIL WAR - THE HL HUNLEY BECOMES THE FIRST SUBMARINE TO ENGAGE AND SINK A WARSHIP, THE USS HOUSATONIC. Who's a tonic?? 1904: MADAMA BUTTERFLY RECEIVES ITS PREMIERE AT LA SCALA IN MILAN. One of two operas I ever saw in person. ZZZZzzzzz. 1908: SPORTSCASTER RED BARBER IS BORN. Call a doctor. 1909: TRIBAL LEADER GERONIMO DIES. He finally jumped. 1919: ACTRESS KATHLEEN FREEMAN IS BORN. You know her face. She was in every film comedy ever made. 1925: ACTOR HAL HOLBROOK IS BORN. And so, in a way, is Mark Twain. 1933: THE BLAINE ACT ENDS PROHIBITION IN THE US. First round on me. 1933: NEWSWEEK MAGAZINE IS FIRST PUBLISHED. The waiting rooms of dental offices have never been the same. 1944: WORLD WAR II - THE BATTLE OF ENIWETOK ATOLL BEGINS. Sounds like something out of Star Wars. 1949; CHAIM WEIZMANN BEGINS HIS TERM AS THE FIRST PRESIDENT OF ISRAEL. Le Chaim! 1959: VANGUARD 2, THE FIRST WEATHER SATELLITE, IS LAUNCHED TO MEASURE CLOUD COVER DISTRIBUTION. Yep, that's a cloud over there. 1962: ACTOR JOSEPH KEARNS DIES. Hey, Mr. Wilson!!! 1963: BASKETBALL STAR MICHAEL JORDAN IS BORN. What were the odds? 1965: THE RANGER 8 PROBE PHOTOGRAPHS THE MOON'S SEA OF TRANQUILITY AS A POTENTIAL LANDING SITE FOR APOLLO 11. And look...parking is free after 6PM. 1972: CUMULATIVE SALES OF THE VOLKSWAGEN BEETLE EXCEED THOSE OF THE FORD MODEL T. This time, the Beetle is doing the squashing. 1974: ROBERT K. PRESTON, A DISGRUNTLED US ARMY PRIVATE, BUZZES THE WHITE HOUSE IN A STOLEN HELICOPTER. In the days before drones. 1980: THE FIRST EVER WINTER ASCENT OF MOUNT EVEREST. Whoever they are, they's freakin' nuts. 1982: ACTOR LEE STRASBERG DIES. Is he dead or just very convincing? 1996: WORLD CHESS CHAMP GARRY KASPAROV BEATS THE DEEP BLUE COMPUTER IN A MATCH. Reboot. 2010: ACTRESS KATHRYN GRAYSON DIES. Anchors aweigh. Dinner last night: Leftover chicken sausage and red cabbage.
