Monthly Archives: July 2009

Taken

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Taken is a revenge flick about an ex-CIA spook who has to rescue his daughter from the clutches of an Albanian prostitution ring. Critics have compared it to an episode of 24, which is an apt description: there are plenty of innocents mowed down in the interest of expedient justice and there is a time limit (96 hours) driving the plot.

The problem with this type movie is that it’s hard to justify a Jack Bauer type character this far from 9/11 and this close to Abu Ghraib. Maybe it’s just the first time I’ve noticed this sort of thing, but this movie seems to go further than any other I’ve seen to put the viewer at ease with its politics. It’s like how in first person shooter video games the bad guys are always the types of characters it’s okay to kill: zombies, Nazis, or aliens. In Taken, we have Albanian mafia guys and innocent French nationals. Our hero just shot an innocent woman in the arm, but it’s okay because she’s French and (as Liam Neeson says, defending himself to the husband of the woman he just shot), “It’s just a flesh wound!” I can kind of understand Albanian mafia, but it’s harder to wrap my head around innocent French nationals, unless it’s more fallout from the French resistance to US invasion of Iraq (freedom fries, anyone?).

They play up the angle of the father trying atone for a lifetime of absenteeism. Toward the end of the picture, Liam has been coming on like a steamroller, and the bad guy asks, “Who is this guy?” For an answer, the boss hears, “It’s the girl’s father,” which is true enough, but considering what the “girl’s father” has just done to the lair, it’s like the understatement of the century.

Hard for me not to like this movie, but it was definitely a guilty pleasure.

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

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Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince runs a little long, but I love the franchise and think this is a fine addition to the series (although my favorite is still Prisoner of Azkaban).

I’m not going to belabor a synopsis of the plot, except to say that if you haven’t seen any of the other films, you’ll be totally confused by this one. There is very little backstory and everything about the ending points to the final episode.

I loved it.

I can’t remember another franchise that spans the childhood of so many of its main actors. I noticed how much more accomplished Rupert Gint (above) was in this one. His comedy relief has often left me cold, but he really nailed the love potion scene. I couldn’t stop giggling as he pined for the moon. Oddly I haven’t felt the same way about Dan Radcliffe and Emma Watson. It’s not so much this movie, but more how their appearance has changed over the last few years. They both looked exactly as I imagined their characters would in 2001, but now they look a little too perfect: Dan and his rugged jaw, Emma’s lovely hair. At one, point Dumbldore even says something to Harry like “hard to imagine you’re the same little boy from under the stairs.” Indeed. I loved the gravity of Emma’s precocious ten-year-old Hermionie, but now her seriousness seems really forced. There was a single scene where they seemed to act their age (she swats Harry for trying to take advantage of his reputation to get a date) instead of all the grim looks and gassy expressions. But these are all quibbles. I’m mostly pleased the characters have been played by the same team over the years. Watching them grow into and change with their roles has the potential to add something to the film experience not available in the books. There is one scene in Half-Blood Prince where Harry and Ron stand in the hall at school, towering over all their peers, with such looks of utter contentment and pride. There is nothing like that in the books.

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Chicken in the Middle

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Aaron and Dad playing football in the backyard–the defensive line is a bunch of chickens. (Yuk, yuk!)

Chickens can be amusing, but this positive attribute is largely offset by the fact that they are disgusting, smelly, nasty creatures. Mine haven’t started to lay eggs yet, so my feelings may change, but I doubt it. I’m not that big on eggs.

Our neighbors, who have chickens, too (What is this?), suggested that when we feed the chickens table scraps, we say something like, “Here chick, chick, chick! Here chick, chick, chick!” This trains the birds to respond to your voice. The problem is that now, whenever we say “Here chick, chick, chick!,” our dog comes racing out back for the table scraps. 

Pace is our biggest chicken.

If you don’t give him some of the scraps, he looks at you with the saddest eyes. Nothing for me? Again?

The chickens like to sleep in the alcove over the nesting box, instead of going inside the nesting box (where it is safer) to spend the night. This means I have to pick them up and put them in the nesting box at night.

There is no good way to grab a chicken.

Chickens don’t have a scruff, like cats or dogs. If you grab one of the legs, they squawk and flap their wings. I find it best to just bat them off the top ledge and then scold them.

Soon I am going to do a post on chicken coop construction.

I bought the plans from one Dennis J Harrison-Noonan, who I have yet to pay (sorry Dennis!) and for whom I have promised to do a review of my experience  using the plans. I’ve added a few improvements (hopefully) to the design, and it turned out better than I expected.

Stay tuned.

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Napoleon Dynamite

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Aaron watched this and loved it.

He insisted our entire family watch it together and so we did. I laughed when I first saw this in theaters. This time, though, I felt really touched, especially Napoleon’s last desperate, ultimately triumphant, act. How sweet. How kooky. I’m not sure why I was so touched. Maybe I’m nervous about the kids going into middle school.

Favorite scene: Napoleon grudgingly feeding ham to Tina, his grandmother’s pet lama. Now when we go to feed the chickens instead of saying “here chick, chick, chick,” we say “Tina, come get some ham!” In fact, we’re using this line a lot around the house lately. I hear it at breakfast. I hear it at bedtime. I hear it if Holly is trying to motivate the kids to do something and they want to wage a low-level rebellion. Yesterday I threatened to yell it at their swim meet, instead of my usual “Go, go, go!” cheer. I would have done it, too, but I didn’t want Aaron to laugh in the middle of his heat.

Aaron does a really compelling imitation of Napoleon Dynamite saying, “Gosh!” If you see him, you must ask him to do it for you. If he doesn’t want to, he may say, “Tina, come get your ham.”

Which is just as good.

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Miniature Ms Elhajj

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This picture cracks me up.

Tim is a giant, Jasmine’s a lilliputian. He looks so happy. She looks intent on getting a little shut eye.

I snagged the photo from Tim’s mySpace page without permission. I am sure he doesn’t mind.

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