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Last year it took some prodding to get me over the hype and into the
theater to see The Fellowship of the Ring, but no persuasion
whatsoever was necessary to get my ass in the seat Wednesday night for
the opening of The Two Towers. That scene in the trailer where
Orlando Bloom whips out his swords has been turning me into a puddle
of mush for months on end. After a swift conference during which we
decided that we preferred the old seats at our favorite movie palace
over brand-new cushions at that Bay St theater monstrosity in
Emeryville, Aimee swung by the Grand Lake two weeks ago already to
pick up tickets for our hardy band of geeks: Patrick, Yuri, Carol,
Dan, Mo, and the other Patrick. After much panting and anticipation,
opening night finally arrived. The verdict? I loved it. Honestly,
there was very little chance I wasn't going to love it (did I mention
that I'm a big geek?), but Peter Jackson really did deliver the
goods. The audience in the theater was wonderfully rowdy, so my
shrieks and cheers and whoas blended right in. I was all about
Aragorn after the first film, but The Two Towers turned me into
a Legolas woman. Patrick said it best: if Orlando Bloom showed up at
Con next year, he could father an entire nation. How do you say "Do
me!" in Elvish? Besides the hunky men, the best thing about these
films is that I have very little idea what's going to happen next
because (gasp!) I've never read the books. My brother ate, drank, and
shat Middle Earth when we were growing up, while I was the one who
started The Hobbit half a dozen times but was never able to
finish it. I know, I know, I'll read them eventually. Not before I
see The Return of the King, however. The portrayal of the Ents
in this one reminded me of the forest and animal spirits in
Princess Mononoke, and Saruman's use of technology for war
brought Lady Eboshi to my mind as well.
I had a proper Saturday morning this week where I lazed on the couch
in my girly jammies until noon, but instead of cartoons I watched the
creepy Dutch film The Vanishing. A man's girlfriend disappears
while they are on holiday, and he becomes obsessed with finding out
what happened to her. I'm still trying to shake the shivers that the
last scenes gave me. This is horror of the subtle psychological
variety, and it also brings up some unsettling questions about fate
and predestination.
Cirque du Soleil enjoys no small measure of popularity in my friend
circle, and Saturday night I finally went to go see what all the fuss
is about. When I first started hearing about Cirque years and years
ago they were being pitched as a circus without the animal cruelty,
where humans perform tricks instead of animals. This is certainly
true, but such a description only hints at the dreamlike world that
Cirque creates onstage. For Varekai they set up their stripey
tent in the Pac Bell Park parking lot, dimmed the lights, and
proceeded to turn my head inside out. My seat was way off to one side
so I was able to keep half an eye on how things were being done, which
as a former stagehand suited me just fine. It was one thing to be
amazed by the special effects in The Two Towers, but it was
quite another to watch people actually fly through the air and flip
and twist their bodies in ways that had me clasping my hands at my
chest in sheer glee. I loved the costumes that looked as if they
could have been designed by Moebius on acid, and the four women that
slithered over each other on one trapeze, but most of all I loved the
sense of wonder and emotion the performers brought to the show. I do
resolve to spring for the pricier tickets the next time I see them,
even if I've just spent a passel on some big showy rock concert, just
so that I can ensure that I don't end up sitting behind a tent pole
again.
Lord of the Rings
Cirque du Soleil
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Heidi J. De Vries
