the groundhog day project

Let me just say, for the record, Groundhog Day has nothing to do with Thanksgiving. I mean, the usual (if you can call 2 or 3 times “usual”) thing is to come back to this movie and tie it in to whatever the month has been. The first batch of horror films, the romantic comedies, slasher films (though I had already explained how Groundhog Day was a slasher film . Now, Thanksgiving movies, except Thanksgiving movies are not about Thanksgiving. They are about a quest for family, a quest for a past that we know is better than the present. A movie about a holiday like Thanksgiving (or as we will see in the next month, Christmas)— NEW THING ALERT: The movie already uses Mother-in-law’s tongue in the Tip Top Cafe... Mother-in-law’s Tongue is a plant. Anyway, the production already uses that plant in the Tip Top Cafe set, but as I was distracted from my mention of Christmas to just how Christmasy the decor in the Cherry Street Inn’s dining room was, I noticed something new. And, after some...

I wish I had more home movies. I have a few, but the video camera I had when my kids were small was broken and its battery would never work; it only ever worked when plugged into an outlet. So, it was not very mobile. There are plenty of photos, but I can imagine being Henry Larson sitting in the den (not that I have a den now or expect to have one when I am an old man) watching old home movies. Someone posted an updated version of Frans Hofmeester’s video of his daughter Lotte on Facebook earlier today. He filmed her every day for 14 years now (the previous version going around was 12 years, and it was in a cellphone commercial so it got a lot of visibility), and it is a remarkable pseudo-time lapse of growing up. Here is the video . (Embedding videos in this blog just does not work anymore, and I do not know why.) I think the reason Home for the Holidays works so well is that it provides a rather universal snapshot of an American family celebrating Thanksgiving. The personality...

As Home for the Holidays begins for the penultimate time... and I imagine every time I finish with one of these movies for seven days that I will never see it again, this is it. It is probably not true for some of them, but it is an interesting way to think about it. Anyway, as Home for the Holidays begins for the second-to-last time, as this month of Thanksgiving-related films comes to an end, it occurs to me that I have not spent much time on the literal aspects of the holiday. I have talked about meaning, I have compared our animosity-laden relationship with our family members to the same between colonists and natives in the pre-United States America. I have talked about family gathering in general and holiday traditions in the abstract. But never the concrete. (And this, the day after the holiday.) The turkey, the mashed potatoes, the cranberry sauce, and whatever else crowds the table. Writing for Science News Letter back in 1951, Watson Davis explains, “Even today when a...

(A note from my sister Bobbie before we get going: Dana in Ghostbusters II has apparently—I did not check, so I can neither confirm nor deny this— not failed at being a cellist but simply took the museum job while Oscar was an infant and plans to get back to the cello when he is older.) From Kit’s “Remember the fish” in the first ten minutes of the movie to Henry’s bit about watching old movies and looking at old photographs in the last ten minutes of the film, there are a lot of references to the past in Home for the Holidays . As I have pointed out the last couple entries (and probably all month in some way or another), there is a lot of ritual and tradition involved in Thanksgiving. This holiday—and any, potentially—becomes timeless in the repetition. Every other day may be a piece of life moving forward, but today... today is endless (and beginning-less). Today is not just this Thanksgiving but also last Thanksgiving, and the Thanksgiving before and the Thanksgiving before...

I feel like talking about the script. I mean, Home for the Holidays hardly has a plot. Not an obvious one. There are subplots all over the place, but really, it is almost like a stream of consciousness kind of storytelling. Stuff just happens. There is only an obvious throughline because we are stuck with Claudia for nearly the entire film; seriously, there are only a couple shots that do not include her. I will try to note those as I go. In the meantime, going back to Dyer and Marshall (both of which I have cited more than once, but especially when I broke down the script of Groundhog Day over one two three days a while back… but Marshall’s piece doesn’t seem to exist online anymore). I remember I was sick when I started that breakdown, writing my handwritten notes when I could barely breathe. I am reminded of the sick thing because of Claudia’s “24-hour bug” here. Anyway, Home for the Holidays is over 100 minute with its end credits, and just under, without. So, when Dyer sa...

At least Claudia restores paintings because she is a failed artist unlike, say, Dana in Ghostbusters II who gets to that job after failing at cello... which I do not understand, actually. But, this is not about Ghosbusters II but Home for the Holidays . Holly Hunter’s Claudia is... Flying She is not having a great day. I will let her explain it to you (as she explains it to Tommy): Hi. Hi little brother. It’s your big bad sister. Where are you? I’m on my way to Henry and Adele’s, which I know is the last place on Earth you want to drive a million miles in holiday traffic to be at, and I don’t blame you. Have Thanksgiving with your friends. I would, if I had any, which I don’t, ‘cause then I’d have to send ‘em all birthday cards, which is a lie of course, because you know I’m only looking for pity. Jesus, my my my. Shit. I really wish you were gonna be there, kiddo, because... because I am sick as a dog, and I made out with my boss, and Kitt’s gonna have sex with a teenager. An...

The point is not that Claudia restores paintings. Not strictly speaking, anyway. What matters is that she restores paintings when she herself used to be a painter. She is a single mother who is unable to do (arguably) what she wants to do. It is weird, but I am not sure if I can quite relate to that like I used to be able to. I probably would not mind writing again—fiction, I mean—but it does not get to me anymore that I do not have time to write. What I do have time to do these days, work-wise, is more fulfilling than work I used to do all the time—inane office jobs. Dear Abby, I think my mother is losing her grip on reality. All her life she’s been this outgoing, happy-go-lucky personality. She cried a lot in private but to strangers she was a barrel of laughs. Now, lately she’s gotten real bad. She wakes up every morning frightened. And she gets real worked up about war and crime and taxes, those terrorists, and she thinks the president secretly owns McDonald’s and the Home Sho...

[For some reason, this particular blog entry is getting a lot of views lately, so I thought I would direct you all to a better entry, perhaps with a less interesting title: Day 486 - can i be serious with you for a minute? Now, back to the regular entry.] I am sure I will be wondering why art restoration? by the end of the week, but for today, I will try to keep things simple. I am watching Home for the Holidays — And, there was just a presumably deliberate juxtaposition between Holly Hunter’s Claudia and Mary (the Biblical one)... then the sneeze and Claudia’s boss wants to talk to her. He is firing her—budget issues—and the sneezing is a thing . Problem right away—and I do not mean a problem with this movie—Holly Hunter has probably displayed more character in the first few minutes of this movie than Patricia Clarkson did in all of Pieces of April yet the former was nominated for awards. I think it is the impression of a serious independent film versus the impression of a br...

(I wish I could title this entry, “don’t you just love every day” but I am not in that great a mood tonight.) I think it is that I like April... or I can relate to her, at least. That feeling that you do not belong, that everything about you is just wrong... well, maybe not everything, but the feeling is just a different level of the same. The feeling that no matter how hard you try, it will not matter anyway. Or, if it would matter, you will just be too timid or too weak-minded to try. My point is, however much this film may be flawed, I think I can relate to the character(s). For example, my family is doing a big Thanksgiving thing this year—just a handful of days from now—and there have been emails going back and forth about who is bringing what, and I have yet to respond because, well, I just have not had time to think about it. Between grad school work and teaching and, you know, life, if not for this blog and the theme I chose for this month, I would not really be thinking abo...

I’m glad that the likes of Roger Ebert agrees with me about Bobby’s plotline in Pieces of April ; he writes: “...here Hedges, the writer-director, half-heartedly tries to do something that doesn’t work and is a little offensive.” Yep. Totally. On the other hand, I must disagree withe Nick Rogers ‘ when he terms the titular April a “Pierced pixie-girl.” Pixie -girls, in cinematic terms are not simply a little eccentric—and April is really only visibly eccentric while she’s a little boring in personality—but cheerful and energetic as well... well, maybe there’s room for something other than the manic pixie , but I do not think April is quite interesting enough to be it. Her plight may be interesting, but she really isn’t. Similarly, while I can appreciate the quiet subtlety of this film, I must disagree with Rogers when he says, “Thankfully, Hedges stages no knockdown, drag-out dinner-table histrionics.” A little more histrionics may have put more life into this film. I mean, yeah, a...

What to do . Write blog entry . ... I can do it, too. ... So, there’s the metaphor. April is the turkey. It’s as simple as that. There’s a couple specific bits in Pieces of April where this makes perfect sense. Not a lot to say today, so I’ll just get into it. First of all, Wayne’s little speech about cooking turkey: It’s a common misconception that you can just stick a turkey in the oven. Turkey needs to be tended to. It needs to be cared for, lovingly. One must pay close attention to poultry... So much can go wrong. Turkey could burn in places, be overcooked, undercooked—which is a health hazard. And, what about basting? One gets the impression that April was neglected as a child, that her mother was always a bit of the bitch she has become with the cancer. One gets the impression that April’s damage has been with her for a very long time. And, she was never “tended to” and never “cared for, lovingly.” No one ever paid close attention to her. That’s why her family has no c...

Roger Ebert tells me Hannah and Her Sisters is the best Thanksgiving film. I have never seen it. I mentioned a while back that I am not the biggest fan of Woody Allen. I’ve seen a few of his films, I can appreciate what he does, but I’m just not all that enamored with it... with them. Similarly—and I think I share this with Ebert—I can appreciate what Peter Hedges is doing in Pieces of April even though I think the final product is flawed. In a way, it might be because that film is inherently flawed that it is also quite endearing. Like family, like Thanksgiving, the twisted heart within the happy occasion is the horribleness possible when family get together in large numbers. None of us is perfect. And, family or not—blood being thicker than water and all that—get us together and insist on hanging out as if our relations have not been strained time and time again by arguments and disagreements, as if some of haven’t disowned others (or wanted to), as if we haven’t had numerous in...

But, here’s what’s great about Pieces of April . Real people are often assholes. Real people are not always so easy to figure out. They’ve got problems, their problems sometimes date back to before you ever knew them, and you might never get the chance to figure them out fully. April doesn’t need to be explained. Her mother doesn’t need to be explained. Her sister Beth might need to be explained, but really she’s a logical extension of the mother’s bitchiness and the mother’s dyingness. Similarly, Timmy’s attachment and possibly inappropriate closeness—these things make sense around what we see of Joy, a woman whose bitterness was eventually answers (not literally, of course) with cancer that made her life and her personality finally make sense. Hell, maybe that’s April’s problem; she hasn’t found the thing that makes her make sense yet. She could use a good time loop... ooh, there’s a thought. If this were a time loop... ...for April, then waking up might go a little better eventua...

Subtitle: observations on watching Pieces of April First, do Bobby and April have those Catholic candles because they’re supposed to be religious or just because they tend to be cheap? They’ve got several of them lined up by the bed. Casual display of (white) female flesh followed by (black) male picking her up and carrying her away to the shower to wake her. There are some potentially dangerous visuals here, with the race thing, but I think the director is deliberately playing on that. Before we get to Alison Pill’s awkward cue award, there’s a brief moment of angst for Katie Holme’s April—keep in mind, this was Katie Holmes on the cusp of becoming a serious actress. She’d had a great, but small part in 1997’s The Ice Storm , had notable roles in Disturbing Behavior , Teaching Mrs. Tingle and Wonder Boys , plus four years of Dawson’s Creek , and Pieces of April was her demonstrating she had real indie cred. Then, Alison Pill’s awkward cue. Oliver Platt, as her father, opens her...

Not long into Pieces of April , a few characters go looking for Joy. To be fair, Joy is a person, a woman who is dying, but still... it’s an on-the-nose metaphor. If you haven’t seen it, and you probably haven’t, picture an independent film circa 2003, a lot of handheld camera and natural lighting. Not a great deal of plot development either. In fact, the titular character’s storyline takes place pretty much in one general location—her apartment building (first her apartment, then neighbors’). ... So, first night with this movie, which I only ever saw once, 11 years ago when it was in theaters. I let it play without writing much. I remember liking it when it came out, and critics liked it. Patricia Clarkson, playing the dying mother in the film, got a lot of award nominations. My daughter Saer wasn’t that impressed. She liked it well enough but wanted more. I agree. The film is good here and there. Even the horrible behavior of April’s family on their roadtrip to her place plays lik...

I We start Dutch in the parking outside the mansion where the party’s going on. We’re out with the attendants. Then, we rise up over the action and CUT TO inside, we’re still hovering. Like spies, like we shouldn’t be there, and we shouldn’t. The people who should be at a party like this just won’t be watching this movie. And, that’s ok. As long as we like class division to perpetuate itself... I’m reminded of Levine’s (1992) piece about the “Folklore of Industrial Society.” Popular cinema divided the masses. Levine cites Gans’ (1962) research into the television-viewing habits of 1950s Italian working-class families in Boston’s West End; Gans found that, “Although the television was on constantly, actual viewing was highly selective and was structured to filter out themes inimical to the life of the peer group and to accept those characters and situations that confirmed the group’s values” (p. 1380). We don’t just accept whatever culture throws at us. We are selective, often to re...

Woman: Libby, this is Natalie Standish. Natalie is Reed’s... Oh, is it alright to...? Natalie: Say that Reed got me pregnant when I was a barhop at your country club, married me to avoid scandal, spent the next ten years sucking the life out of me, got bored with me, dumped me, and screwed me in court? Sure, go ahead. Woman: Uh... Natalie is Reed’s ex-wife. In the modern parlance, a screenwriting fail . But, nevermind that. I just had to rewind a couple times to check a mistake. So, a dozen minutes or so into the movie, Dutch is preparing food while he and Natalie discuss what to do about Doyle. Dutch cuts chicken with a knife at first then resorts to a cleaver, then puts the mangled chicken along with some potatoes and vegetables in a pan... and CUT TO timer, CUT TO those same ingredients in a nice dish. Natalie comments, “Smells good.” But, they’re sitting in a restaurant. They were in a house kitchen a moment ago, and then a restaurant. It’s not an editing error but something b...