Please Swoon:

JGL is officially swoon-worthy (as if he wasn't before). Listen to him do a solo performance of Nirvana's "Lithium" and remember why you fell in love with him back when he tried to fake French in 10 Things I Hate About You.



E

Some Eye Candy For Your Table...

As the majority of my world knows by now: I am in love with Robert Redford (in every capacity). And Brad Pitt isn't so bad either. So, in an attempt to take my mind off of my daily dosage of cynicism, I thought I'd share a little comparison...

E

Jump Your Bones

So. This poster is just awesome.

Word on the street is that this is the new Bones poster for Comic Con, and it is making me even more excited for season 7 to start up ... in freaking November. TOO LONG.

E

Sean Penn At His Finest

I've just re-watched Clint Eastwood's Mystic River for about the hundredth time, and it only keeps getting better. The performances given by Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, and Kevin Bacon are heart-wrenchingly beautiful.

Don't even get me started on the display of family dynamics: the blinded, dedicated wife vs. the shaken, "disloyal" one. The question of the cost of family, the ties the bind, and the choices that we make. Do you stay with your loved ones even though they committed wrongs, or do you follow the external world's moral codes and betray the people who need you the most?


Annabeth Markum: Celeste called looking for you. She was worried something might happen. She told me about Dave. Told me what she told you. What kind of wife says those things about her husband? And why'd she run to you? 
Jimmy Markum: Why didn't you call? 
Annabeth Markum: Because it's like I told the girls. Their daddy's a king. And a king knows what to do and *does* it. Even when it's hard. And their daddy will do whatever he has to for those he loves. And that's all that matters. Because everyone is weak, Jimmy. Everyone but us. We will never be weak. And you, you could rule this town. 


Here is just an example of the finest blend of acting and direction that I have ever seen. I will challenge anyone to show me something more evocative and compelling.



-E

Dear Mr. President

How did I not know about this song earlier?


To quote Aaron Sorkin's Lewis Rothschild from The American President: "I'm a citizen, this is my President. And in this country it is not only permissible to question our leaders it's our responsibility!"





What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?


-E

Granny O'Grimm's Sleeping Beauty

Because I was feeling nostalgic and in the need for some beautiful animation...



-E

Michael West still dominates my life.

I'm just saying.

Here is his latest interview, describing his play Freefall from Edinburgh ... by far one of the best professors that I've ever had.

-E

Krapp's Last Tape, Gate Theatre

Tonight was the opening preview of Beckett's Krapp's Last Tape at the Gate Theatre here in Dublin, and I have to say that I still don't quite know what to say aside from the obvious: spectacular.

I do have to preface this by saying that I have never seen a Beckett play live, so this was an overall first. The feeling you get is strange, surreal even. I found myself becoming hyper-sensitive to my surroundings. Every sound mattered. Every feeling meant something. During the performance, I found myself thinking about the time and how long the performance was, and then the overhead went out and, like a fleeting moment, it was over all too soon.

Michael Gambon owned the stage as Krapp, a 69 year old curmudgeon in the process of recording the final tape of his life. The lighting, wardrobe, and set were absolutely wonderful. The desk, specifically, lived up to my expectations.

As far as Gambon's performance was concerned: Nearly flawless. The way his tone shifted between recordings and reality was right on cue. His shuffling was appropriate and consistent; his facial expressions were priceless.

Something towards the end did specifically catch my attention, though. Krapp croaked, "begin again, begin again."

Now, if I am remembering the text correctly, the line should have been "be again, be again," so I am torn between two worlds: understanding and confusion. I have to believe that everything that happens on a stage is intentional (and I have the faith in Gambon to up hold that standard) but I also know that the Beckett Estate is not the friendliest of establishments. Adjusting Beckett simply isn't done.

After only an hour of sitting in the Gate, I found myself wanting more, needing more. I wanted to know what further pain Krapp could suffer and how his life would go on, another day without his wife.

AND WE SAW MICHAEL GAMBON AFTER THE SHOW AND IT WAS AMAZING.
THE END.

-E

This Week In Review

So, the week is almost at an end so I thought I’d do my best to fill the void with an update.

Sunday:
We made friends with random people in our hostel -- aka 3 guys from Sri Lanka, a guy from Namibia, and then a Parisian from Gambon who confessed his love for me after about 10 minutes. His name was Barton and he looked like Djimon Hounsou.

Monday:

The Huntarian Museum at the University of Glasgow was closed for the 3rd day in a row, so Jaime and I wandered around the city for the entire day. Found these really awesome bridges and ended up wandering through the equivalent of Scottish New Jersey on the North Side of the city. It was pretty epic. There is photo documentation. Then we saw A Single Man and I fell in love. It was wonderful.

Tuesday:

We took a cab to Glasgow airport at 0500, only to arrive at 5:30 and learn that we were in fact at the wrong airport (no one bothered to correct us). So we ended up taking a £100 cab ride to the correct airport an hour away and luckily got there just before the gate closed. Then after security they weighed our bags (which has never happened before) and we ended up having to pay £35 each for carry-ons that the flight crew didn’t even check. We finally got back to our flat in Dublin around 0900, just in time for Jaime to get to class. Thus ... the actual day began.

Went to lunch at Chorus, where we ran out of time so Sirus let us take our plates and silverware to class and then bring it back. It was pretty great. Kerry and I just walked in to Susanne’s class with these massive plates of omelets and chips ... people were jealous and we were full. In class I had to suffer the torment that was the movie Adam and Paul, and I’m pretty sure I am the only person that hated it with a burning passion. In a word: boring. I just wrote a review on it, so I might share my thoughts in a little bit, have no fear.

Then around 0930 Steven and Kristen finally got here (apparently the immigration guys looked me up in the computer to varify that they were staying with me and that I was a valid temporary citizen -- WEIRD) and we went to grab a pint over at Farrington’s. The music was great, but not gonna lie, we were dead. The day felt like a week.

Wednesday:

Fintan O’Toole came and spoke to us. It was pretty epic. I’ll be honest though, since he’s a theatre critic and all I definitely thought he was going to be talking to us about, you know, Irish theatre, but the entire thing ended up being about post-Celtic Tiger Ireland. It was incredibly interesting, actually, and I really want to read his new book now. After class Steven and I skyped into our first Orientation Meeting back at Pratt and were pretty amused. It was a fun time, seeing people and thinking about all the stress that awaits us back in the states. Joy.

Thursday:
Oh, today. Did I mention that the first draft of my full length play is due in less than 24 hours? Fun, right? Not. Lies. All lies. I’ve been teetering page 56 for the past week and can’t seem to stretch things out any further so far. It’s awesome. So, instead, I am watching Eraser with Kristen and Steven, drinking my third cappuccino of the day, and eagerly awaiting my take-away from Queen of Tarts.

Tonight is going to be a looooooong night.

-E

Perrier’s Bounty, aka: Mark O’Rowe is good craic!

Dear interwebs, it looks like the luck of my theatre/cinema classes is finally starting to kick in over here in Eire because I went to see the new Irish film Perrier’s Bounty tonight and I think I fell a little bit in love.

Written by Mark O’Rowe (Intermission, Terminus, Howie the Rookie), Perrier’s Bounty is basically the perfect combination of profanity, violence, humor, family, love, and Irish. It’s basically what would happen if Quentin Tarantino, Neil Jordan, and Steven Soderbergh had a love child that looked like Cillian Murphy. O’Rowe actually came and spoke to my theatre class just the other week, and I have to say that this script came as a shock to me -- it was incredible in a sheerly entertaining way: witty, vulgar, realistic.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t come out in the states until the middle of May, so you folks have to wait for the joy. But have no fear, I will definitely go see it again!

-E

AND Cillian Murphy is a bit of an alright. I’m just saying.

Top Quotes:

“She’s odd, like a bag of carrots.”

“Fuck that shit, man.”

(paraphrase) “You get the coke or I go visit mom, make your pick.” “Coke.”

No Parlo Italiano!

It’s official -- I’m back in Dubsville, aka Dublin!!

If you didn’t know, interwebs, I’ve just spent the past week in the loverly city that is Roma, Italia and it was basically amazing. I think I’m officially obsessed with the Bernini Bridge (no, I don’t actually know the real name) and Santa Maria dia lo Muerto (once again, I don’t actually know the real name, soOo I made one up that sounds about right)

In a brief (very brief) nutshell, Santa Maria’s was absolutely incredible, and I could have spent hours in the very tiny room that is the crypt. Lots and lots of bones. Enough said.

Fabulosity? I think so.

Right up my alley? I think so.

Unfortunately, you’re going to get short changed here, interwebs, because I am knackered and just finally got home from a 3 hour flight filled with CRAZY Italian teenagers getting ready for St. Patrick’s Day. They were rude, they didn’t even try to speak English, and they had green hair. That is not a good/pleasant/fun/relaxing combination.

-E

Lies Susanne Told Me Number 317: “Students always come back from holiday with lovely tans.”