Summer's the Worst: (500) Days of Summer

If you've read this blog, well, at all, you are probably aware of my deep and unabiding lovelust for Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I've given shout-outs to his films Brick and 10 Things I Hate About You. In my liveblog of the latter's TV version, I lamented about how I missed him and how his whiny successor just wasn't cutting it.


Why, you ask, am I so into the JGL? Naturally, the physical plays a big part. It starts with that mop of hair, touchable whether it's straight and feathery or venturing into Jewfro territory. Those almond-shaped eyes that radiate intensity. And can we talk about that gorgeous smile? In a completely un-Hollywood way (especially considering he grew up in L.A. as a child actor), HE DOESN'T HAVE PERFECT TEETH. His eyes squinch up and it's unassumingly sexy--a good-looking guy who doesn't realize how very good-looking he is. Most of his characters aren't super-smiley--so when he grins, it leaves you wanting more and more.


Since I saw and then became obsessed with Brick in 2006, I've followed JGL's career--everything from shitty bit parts in Havoc (don't see it EVER, Anne Hathaway is still banging her head against the wall for taking the lead role) to leads in quiet, interesting indies like Manic. I get the feeling that although Joe is not Brad Pitt, he doesn't want to be. This is an actor that could have easily coasted and made a pretty penny in teen movies. Instead, after 10 Things I Hate About You, he quit acting to go to college. (And unlike, say, the Olsen twins, he wasn't well-known enough for this to be a PR move.) Granted, he never graduated, leaving Columbia for the movies after two years of studying French. I feel that's understandable, however--the acting business waits for no one, and not everyone put off taking roles for four whole years. In short, I give most actors who attempt college a lot of credit: they have perspective outside the slick fantasyland of Hollyweird, and they want a little taste of the real, even if they can't stay there forever.


JGL radiates an intelligence and thoughtfulness in both interviews and in career choices. I don't know much about his family life, but it seems like his parents weren't Lohans or Jacksons and kept him pretty grounded. Yes, he's also in G.I. Joe this summer, reflecting the "one for them, one for me" actor mindset. But more than anything, JGL strikes me as someone who doesn't choose roles for the gajillions of dollars or the Oscar potential, but because he finds them interesting. That's cool, rare, and just ups the hotness in my book.


As for Zooey Deschanel, I go back and forth. (And no, it's not just because she gets to kiss my man. Give me a little credit.) I enjoyed her as rebellious Anita Miller in Almost Famous (who didn't love the line, "this song explains why I'm leaving home to be a stewardess"?) and as Sarah Jessica Parker's bird-hating roommate in Failure to Launch. (Oh, sue me. My mom paid.) In the latter, she won me over when she dryly instructed her tweeting nemesis, "Shut up, whore." I even kind of like that stupid hipster-bait Cotton commercial when she traipses about her lovely indie life, selecting vintage banjos and flipping through records in a store with way too flattering lighting. At times, however, she gets on my nerves. I thought she was all wrong for Trillian in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy--though aside from Mos Def, that entire movie was pretty awful. And as a whole, I abhor when someone's perceived as "deep" when the unfocused look in their eyes may very well be "stoned.


That said, it's cool to see a rom-com heroine who ISN'T played by Kate Hudson. Who if the previews are any indication, also has a modicum of intellect and *gasp!* might not make it her life's work to land The One. Who plays opposite a guy who also seems smart and funny, and who isn't Matthew McConnaughey, fake-tanned into frat-boy oblivion. Not to mention that I was intrigued by the tagline, "This is not a love story." Sign me up.


Here's the basic plot: Tom (played by my future husband) is a wannabe architect who works for an L.A. greeting card company. When Summer (Zooey D.) breezes into the office as the boss' new assistant, Tom is instantly smitten. Although Summer may not reciprocate--she confesses that she's not so into relationships (and in the audience, Unpro silently chants: "Amen, sista!")--she and Tom enter into a courtship where they do things like goof around furniture displays at IKEA and yell naughty words in public. They're very happy. Until they're not. When Summer abruptly ends the unlabeled whatever-it-was, Tom is destroyed. Despite warnings from his two best friends and his wordly-wise lil sis (not Abigail Breslin, but I bet they wanted her), he vows to win back Summer's love. But was it ever really love in the first place? The film jumps around in the timeline of Tom's mind (so don't worry, I'm not giving away any spoilers here) to illuminate a twosome that is way more flawed when given a second look.


So, how 'bout we start with what I HATED?

• For a large part of the movie, I actively disliked the title character. Yes, Summer is lovely, dresses cute, and doesn't require a man to get by. That said, she's a TWIT. Oooh, she has bangs! Oooh, she likes The Smiths! Ooooh, she had a relationship with another woman in college! (That last one angered me most of all. Seriously, writers? Stop feeding into the male fantasy. Yes, people experiment in college, but most women who have relationships with other women? They're called LESBIANS. And they don't. like. dudes.) All this would be well and good if she said anything remotely intelligent. And no, I don't consider declaring Ringo to be your favorite Beatle "intelligent." Granted, most of the movie is from Tom's perspective, but at times, Summer came off as borderline retarded. Is this what guys want? Ugh. Ugh. UGH.
  
• Here's my main issue with Summer: girls like her are the bane of my existence. Oh, they walk among us. They crush on the same tall, dark-haired indie drinks of water I do. They win over these guys with quirkiness that trumps mine (because I wear glasses, am loud, hold a real job, and am alternative but not excessively so). THEN . . . they follow whatever sparkly fairy lives in their brain (whereas the spirit of Tina Fey lives in mine, or at least I like to think so) and flit off to whimsically break yet another heart. And then--guess who the mopey guy turns to when he's on the ledge? That's right--chicks like me are perpetually picking up the pieces left in the wake of girls like Summer. And. Boys. Never. Learn.
  
• That said, Tom annoyed me too. Granted, it took longer because it was JGL, but man, the guy was MOPEY. Remember how when you were younger, you thought the emo guys were sooo deep because they were all broody and dark? Then you grew up and realized they were just whiners with no motivation? Yeah, that's Tom for a lot of the movie. The fact that he just refused to get over Summer really, really bugged me.

Then I realized, for better and for worse, that I saw myself in both of them.
Because we've all been Summer. I'm not talking about the aggressive quirkiness and inexplicable charm. I'm talking about the fact that at some point in your life, you take up with somebody who likes you better than you like them. It might be a time where you don't want anything serious, it might be that you like having a warm body next to you, or a little bit of both. And you may very well be upfront from the beginning--that you aren't in it for the long haul. But the other person doesn't listen. And you know it's wrong because they will inevitably get hurt, but you go along with it. Until you can't. And no matter how guilty and awful you feel, there's nothing you can do to make the other person feel better--except get back together with them, and that's not fair.

And we've all been Tom too. We've held on to a liaison for a painful amount of time, swearing this person is The One even when our pals try to set us straight. We've played numerous games of denial, thinking of we just wait long enough or say the exact right words or play the perfect song over and over, everything will be restored to the bliss it once was (or so we think, as we've idealized and fetishized this person in our minds). Scenes from the relationship are on constant repeat, as we agonize over what we did and didn't do to screw it up. And we just will NOT accept defeat, until we are slapped in the face when our expectations don't come anywhere near reality (illustrated in the film with an inspired split-screen sequence).
That's been me. That's been you. And the filmmakers get it beautifully.

It's a fact: most relationships don't work out. I'm not talking about the divorce rate. For every happy ending--whether that's marriage, life-long commitment, or just settling down with a chosen One--there are a million sad endings. And those include the people who eventually find everlasting love--the majority have to suffer through at least one bad breakup. But you know what the great thing about relationships is? You learn. You almost always learn. And by the end of the film, Tom and Summer have learned. Because of their time together, they'll be better. In many ways, that's the happiest ending I can imagine. (Or maybe I'm just really morose. But still.)

This ain't the feel-good movie of the year, y'all. At the same time, it's not depressing either. Sure, it's sad at some points and downright cringeworthy at others. But the word that comes to mind when I think of (500) Days of Summer is this: relatable. The two principals are believable and accessible in their happiness, confusion and heartbreak. You have experienced what they've experienced, in some form or another. And you got through it, right? You'll root for Tom to do the same (the movie is from his perspective), even when you want to smack him to expedite the process.

Also, it's a damn pretty movie to watch. Not just because of the comely leads, but the art direction is phenomenal, the best cinematic eye candy I've seen since Marie Antoinette. The entire color scheme is brown and blue--according to IMDb, it was designed around Zooey Deschanel's eyes, and no matter how you feel about her acting, you can't deny those vivid peepers. Also, the film plays a lot with lines, in both the greeting-card illustrations Tom faces at his day job, and the architectural drawings he favors. Plus, the filmmakers get just how lovely L.A. can be. I remember visiting the city back in 2007, for the first time since I was a kid. I had been warned at what a parking-lot wasteland the place was, nowhere near as glamourous as you would imagine the epicenter of film. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised at the beauty of Los Angeles. Maybe you have to look a little harder, but it's right there waiting.

Finally, I can't hate a movie that appreciates the evocative charm of Regina Spektor, enough to use her songs in two key scenes. I just can't.

My final verdict? SEE IT. You won't be smiling all the way through. You'll recall the anger and frustration of relationships that died a slow and painful death. But by the end, you'll feel better. You'll remember that sometimes we have to survive the bad stuff in order to earn the good. You'll think about it the next day. And the next. And if you're like me, you'll have a very interesting discussion with a like-minded friend.

And then you'll see it again.

Maybe Not Coming to a Theatre Near You: Five Must-See Indies

Let's face it: movie-wise, there's a lot of crap out there. For every kickass popcorn blockbuster blasting into mall cineplexes, there's a cool, quirky indie that could be just as appealing to the masses if given a chance. To be fair, blockbusters have become more intelligent in recent years--I'm thinking of the Spider-Man franchise, at least the first two; and the new Star Trek is getting rave reviews for being both thought-provoking AND fun to watch--but there's still a lot of really good stuff that either gets ignored completely or is banished to direct-to-DVD purgatory. (FYI, Slumdog Millionaire almost suffered the latter fate. Yes, THAT Slumdog Millionaire.) Or it comes out only in big cities, in tiny art-house theatres, for a week. Sad.


Want to have your mind blown by a film that's NOT at the top of the box office (or trying to be), but don't know where to start? Below are five of my favorite "small" films (by small, I mean low-budget, independent, and/or specialty). Watch 'em and weep (in a good way).


1. Brick: High school sucked for a lot of us. Even for the favored few, navigating clique hierarchy while trying to stay out of trouble with the administration--and figuring out where and with whom to eat lunch--was far from easy. Now imagine juggling all of the above, while solving your ex-girlfriend's murder. Teenager Brendan Frye doesn't have many friends, and lost his girlfriend Emily for being too possessive. Three days after he received a cryptic phone call from her, Emily turns up dead. With the help of his confidante Brain, Brendan encounters druggie jocks, back-alley burnouts, lascivious drama queens, and a femme fatale with questionable motives as he doggedly pursues the truth. Did I mention that everyone talks like 1940's gangsters? Shot at a real California high school (director Rian Johnson's alma mater) and featuring the smokin' Joseph Gordon-Levitt (of Angels in the Outfield and 10 Things I Hate About You fame) in a deliciously intense performance, Brick is well worth your watching while. The dialogue takes some getting used to, but soon you'll find yourself absorbed in a world that's both extremely unique and surprisingly relatable.


2. Bottle Shock: Ever wonder where Chardonnay comes from? Me neither--I'm too busy drinking it. Still, this fun film inspired by true events is up there with Sideways when it comes to well-acted wino education. In the 1970's, Napa, California, is a sleepy farm town whose stellar vineyards are a well-kept secret. Enter a Paris wine snob (the always-amazing Alan Rickman) determined to drum up business in his own shop by hosting a competition between American and French wines. Upon traveling to Napa, he encounters Jim Barrett (Bill Pullman), a former lawyer whose little vineyard-that-could is verging on collapse, and Jim's scrappy son Bo (a pre-Star Trek Chris Pine, whose baby blues shine under a mop of tangled hippie hair). Meanwhile, another wannabe vintner (Freddy Rodriguez) is working for the Barretts by day, but concocting his own red by night. When the Barretts stumble upon what could be a perfect Chardonnay, do they stand a chance against the Frenchies? I really wish this little gem had gotten more recognition, so give it some love: it's a classic underdog story with a fantastic cast, beautiful scenery, and a charming plot.


3. Every Little Step: Picture going into the office and having to interview for your job and prove your mettle every single day. (Before the recession.) Also, unless you can branch out and gain more skills in your field or elsewhere, you'll be rendered useless once you hit your thirties (if you even last that long). Oh, and if you get injured, stick a fork in yourself--you're DONE. You live in a state of constant unemployment, and even when you do find work, you better enjoy it, because this job might be your last. This is what it's like to be a Broadway dancer. For that reason, the musical A Chorus Line--which began when dancer/choreographer Michael Bennett asked a group of his friends to talk about their lives while plying them with terrible red wine, and taped the whole eight-hour session--has been beloved since its inception in the late 1970's and was once the longest-running show on Broadway. (NOTE: do NOT, I repeat NOT, see the horrendous 1980's film version. No no no. You will thank me.) This documentary was filmed in 2005, when an open call was held in New York City for the Broadway revival, and over 3,000 dancers showed up for under 20 spots in the cast. All sweating, singing, emoting, and putting themselves out there for a job that they have a very small shot at landing. So why do they do it? Why does anyone take an artistic risk knowing it will most likely never pay off? (Figuratively and literally: dancers don't make much money, ever.) Even if you're not a dance freak like me, Every Little Step is compelling, rich and rewarding--for both the viewer and the passionate individuals on screen. You really will laugh and cry, I promise.


4. Surfwise: Jon and Kate Gosselin were far from the first to raise a large family in a nontraditional manner. In the 1970's, surfer Dorian "Doc" Paskowitz abandoned his successful medical practice and hit the road with his wife and nine children in tow. The Paskowitz kids grew up in a 24-foot camper, never tasting junk food or even going to school (as one points out, you can't be missed in a system you were never part of in the first place), and cutting their teeth on the wild ocean waves. Let's face it, many of us entertain the odd fantasy of saying "screw you" to society and striking out on our own, but what happens when you actually DO it? And how do your own decisions affect the lives of your children, who had no say in the matter? Interviews with the now-grown Paskowitz kids, as well as Doc himself (now a kickin' octogenarian), combined with archival footage of the family in their road-tripping heyday, reveal the various benefits--and detriments--of a play-by-your-own-rules existence. What's most fascinating is how not one of the Paskowitzes have the same reactions and insights to their unusual childhoods: they may have been viewed as a unit in the surfing community, but behind the Paskowitz name are nine wildly different individuals, all of whom bear the smiles and scars resulting from a truly unique upbringing.


5. Nothing Like the Holidays: Freddy Rodriguez is awesome. Whether he's kicking alien ass (Grindhouse: Planet Terror), toiling in a mortuary (Six Feet Under), or making midnight wine (the aforementioned Bottle Shock), the guy always brings it. Plus, he earns a special place in my heart for being a proud Chicago native. Which brings us to his cruelly overlooked pet project, Nothing Like the Holidays. Originally titled Humboldt Park, the film takes place in the week before Christmas, as a Puerto Rican family reconvenes in their native Chicago neighborhood. On everyone's first night back home, matriarch Ana Rodriguez announces that she is leaving her husband Edy--who just sits there, mute and defenseless. The three adult kids all have their own baggage: Mauricio is an eager-to-please New York attorney, whose Jewish wife has never really fit in with the family; Jesse has just returned from Iraq and is now expected to take over the family bodega; and Roxana's L.A. acting career isn't going quite as well as she'd hoped. What I love about this film is how nuanced and complex ALL the characters are--it's a true ensemble piece, and every character is written and portrayed with the utmost care. Also, the family's cultural traditions are shown in a respectful manner, far from the usual look-at-the-ethnics-in-their-natural-habitat crap you tend to see in mainstream movies. The cast is chock full of recognizable actors (Alfred Molina, John Leguizamo, Melonie Diaz, as well as Mr. Rodriguez) giving it their all and making us all wonder, Why aren't they getting more work? I was especially impressed by an actress I don't usually like: Debra Messing of Will & Grace fame. She delivers a thoughtful, skilled performance as Sarah, Mauricio's Jewish wife, who is still struggling to please his family while staying true to her career-loving baby-ambiguous self. Overall, this portrayal of a perfectly imperfect family makes for a memorable viewing experience with those who matter most.


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