I am not glamorous.

It's a sad, sad state of affairs. Can I blame it on the netcam?

WHAT SARAH WORE

I still think it's funny. Thanks, whoever you are!

Celluloid Lane: City of God

Runtime: 130 minutes. Rated R.

Note to self: remember that when you tell everyone you're going to start writing movie reviews, you should.

Moving on....

I'm a fan of foreign movies. The less predictable and blockbusteresque (yes, I made that word up), the better. And subtitles... you either love 'em or you hate 'em. I love 'em. Come on now. I hear rotten, ugly English all day long. Let's listen to somebody else!

And so I embraced Brazilian Portuguese, during "Cidade de Deus� (City of God). Heather and I caught it at the Red Vic a couple weeks ago as it made its final rounds through the city. By the way, The Red Vic has this incredible popcorn topped with Brewer's Yeast in lieu of fake butter and salt. Just one taste, and you'll be a believer.

Back to the flick.

It begins in the 60s. We are introduced to a group of youths growing up in what looks much like the slummiest of army barracks, which is actually a huge housing development built to accomodate the large number of country folk who've migrated to Rio de Janeiro in search of something better... the "City of God."

We become familiar with great poverty... though while the scene is certainly forlorn, it's not as hideous as your mind might concoct a Brazilian ghetto to be. What's more apparent is an abundance of young children who walk with pistols, rob their neighbors, and have an overall apathy for human existance. Bad news, but you always kind of knew this sort of thing existed, right?

The story steers us toward a group of boys growing up in the City of God.  They chase girls, they play soccer, they laugh at the sorts of things little kids find amusing, but they also carry guns. A teenage trio from the pack, in an effort to steal more efficiently, decides to rob a nearby hotel. They bring one of their younger brothers along to keep watch outside (policemen, however corrupt, are still a source of concern). Unfortunately, the young boy is inexplicably bloodthirsty, and what begins as a simple robbery turns into a scene of mass homicide. It's an unbelievably brutal way to start things off.

These initial scenes set the tone for what's to come in the next two decades (the film is split into 3 total). Our only real hero, Rocket, grows up shunning the hood life (he loves photography, hallelujah!). But he's still intertwined in the lives of his childhood playmates- now vicious, murdering drug lords who keep the cops at bay and the neighborhood in fear. Much as he tries to avoid the violence, he keeps getting sucked in. He hones his journalistic skills by documenting the gangster life surrounding him, though escape is never an option. You are either with the gang, or you are with the other gang.

Sounds bleak? It is. Don't expect things to get better around the City of God. These soulless youths lower your faith in mankind's ability to pull itself out of one very miserable funk. Greed, pride, and ignorance are powerful weapons, never more obvious than in this story. This is a tale of children, aging without parents, schooling, or discipline, who choose the most lucrative paths they can to scramble atop a cesspool of forgotten faces. And believe it or not, drugs aren't even really the problem.

I won't get too involved in the details of the plot- I think I've told you enough to come to your own conclusions about how a jig like this might end...and did I mention it's a true story? And have I forgotten to tell you that I really enjoyed "City of God?" I did. Sometimes a pathetic tale is just recreated beautifully. The no-frills, honest method will always bring my desensitized little heart to tears most genuinely.

I've got to hand it to those in charge of casting this film. There are 6, 7 year old actors who will have you convinced they've got what it takes to be the next top dog in crime. It's remarkable, and frightening.

Cinematography fans will agree "City of God" does the gritty thing flawlessly, reminiscent of the Tijuana scenes from "Traffic" with their yellowy, sallow filters. I wish I could tell you what I thought of the musical score, but it didn't leave an impression. Perhaps the subject matter left no room to appreciate it. I did eat all my popcorn, if that matters.

Well? Let's talk about it!

My New Job

No, I'm not leaving The Screen Savers. However, I've decided my other calling in life is to be a movie critic. Why? Because I love film, and I'm very critical. It's really very simple. 

But seriously, I'll soon be adding a new feature here at sarah.word. where I'll do my best to review the flicks I've seen lately. It might not bring in the dough, but it's fun. And chances are you'll disagree with me wholeheartedly, which is even more fun. Fair warning- I'm really stubborn, and I'll bring out the "I went to college and spent 4 years critiquing media and you didn't" card wherever necessary.

Good times!

Hyperventilation.

I'm co-hosting "The Screen Savers" tomorrow for the first time, and I'm really nervous. I know you'd think after almost a year of being on-air, I'd be over the jitters and butterflies and all that nonsense, right?

Nope. I'm constantly amazed at how good the human body is at mimicking an apprehensive mind. Stupid body.

Anyway, wish me luck and I hope you all can tune in tomorrow and cheer on the Dynamic Duo! Now you'll have to excuse me, for there's a cocktail calling my name. If I can't control my body, I can kill the source.

2004

I wonder when we'll start saying "twenty-oh-four" and so on. Think about the nineteen hundreds. So much easier. My guess is we'll be referring to it as "two thousand blah blah" for another 6 years, then things will change in 2010.

The other night I went to see "American Splendor." It was interesting and somewhat endearing, though I'd say the majority of moviegoers would find it slow. There's this little movie house down the street from me called The Red Vic, which runs some of the smallest and most obscure indie films around. It's one of the very best things on Haight Street. I love a small, intimate show once in a while.

During the previews before the movie, I got a chance to see what Macaulay Culkin's up to these days. Watch the trailer, and then let's all agree we're not, er, home alone anymore. Yuk, yuk.

I have to go back to work tomorrow after a glorious break from reality. Time to get outside and enjoy my last day of freedom!

PS- Ikea is evil.