Comfort Watching: Life As We Know It

Sometimes you just need to look at Josh Duhamel in his underwear, chasing a baby.

I've been thinking a lot about comfort.  This past week, a close friend unexpectedly lost a parent.  This is a first for me--in some ways, it's kind of a miracle I've made thirty years without witnessing it yet.  I don't want to make this all about me, but it's affected me.  A lot.

It's never easy to watch a loved one grieve.  To know that they're dealing with such a devastating life change.  To realize that you most likely will bury your parents, and that day may come sooner rather than later.  That your friends, too, won't be around forever.

Life as you know it, is fleeting.

Though I'm about to enter the most intense workweek of the year, I decided on Friday to visit my parents.  It would involve several hours of travel in the span of about forty-eight hours, but . . . I just needed to see them.  

On the train home, I tried not to think about work.  I didn't stress.  I took a nap, wrote some notes for my NaNo project, listened to a mix I made for Bob, revisited a really good book, thought about the amazing ballet performance I'd seen the night before.  I tried my damndest to surround myself with the little things that make life comforting.

And then I went to a Katherine Heigl movie.

Let me explain.  I don't have the vitriol for ole KH the way some bloggers do.  Yes, I think she shouldn't bite the hand that feeds her quite so much, and if she's so concerned about making female-empowerment films, why the hell did she back and star in The Ugly Truth?  However, I don't actively seek out her movies that don't involve Judd Apatow or making fun of bridesmaid dresses.  

But the movie selection in my parents' town is considerably more limited than Chicago.  Mom had already agreed to see a movie with a coworker.  And quite frankly, even if I'd been in my home city last night, I didn't feel like watching anything dark and depressing, no matter how cool it would make me sound on Monday.

This is how I ended up at LIfe As We Know It.

Sure, the plot's predictable: schubby dude meets woman with stick up her ass.  They hate each other on sight, but are forced to get along when their recently departed friends' will stipulates that they not only raise departed friends' baby, but live in departed friends' house (all of this done without departed friends discussing this with schubby dude and stick-up-her-ass lady before their untimely death).  "Life as we know it" changes forever, montages ensue, wacky neighbors come out of the woodwork, and arguments become kisses become airport runs (just when I think screenwriters have finally discarded the airport run, here we go again).

And yet . . . I enjoyed it.  

Not just because I coveted Christina Hendricks' purple ruffled cardigan.  (And her hair.  And her lips.  And just . . . can I look like her in my next life?  I promise not to flip off crazy drivers anymore).  

Because it was comforting.

Because sometimes you just need to sit in the dark, passing the popcorn bag in between your parents, and listen to your sister tell you that Josh Duhamel was upset that the poster features a shot of him in tighty-whities, even though there are FULL FRONTAL pictures from his modeling days that you can find online.  (My family: always good for the odd movie tidbit or obscure John Hughes quote.)  Because babies are cute and the pop music score is fun to listen to.  Because Katherine Heigl wears pretty outfits.  

Because as much as I lament the decline of the movie industry and the fact that yet another remake of an 80's series has been greenlighted when a movie about Allen Ginsburg only came out in like five cities, sometimes I just need to dive headfirst into a predictable romcom.

Life As We Know It will never make it into my top ten.  Katherine Heigl can be annoying.  Apparently, Josh Duhamel is a pantsless hypocrite.  And I don't want babies, inherited or otherwise.

But on a Saturday night after a rough, sad week, it was exactly what I needed.

And speaking of fluffly treacle, here's my favorite duet from last week's Glee:

Best Kept Secrets: Friday Night Lights

Here's what you need to know: I grew up hating football.

Hey, nothing wrong with organized sports.  They're good for kids, breed team spirit, help people bond, blah blah blah.  And the entertainment industry spawns just as many assholes.  However, you couldn't convince teenage Unpro.  See, I came of age in a teeny tiny farm town where sportliness was next to Godliness.  And I was a reader/dancer/aspiring actress.  When I chose to attend college in Chicago, going the furthest away of anyone in my graduating class (of 34), exactly no one was surprised.

Though I do have a weakness for certain sports movies--A League of Their Own is what made me a feminist, and The Mighty Ducks had cuuuute hockey boys, plus Gordon Bombay is just really, really fun to say--I'm more a fan of uplifting montages with music cues so I can understand who's hitting what into where.  I guess I like the idea of sports, but not sports themselves.  So when NBC premiered a TV series based on the film Friday Night Lights (a good 'un, but not in my top five fave sports flicks), I was less than interested.

Fast forward almost one year: end of summer 2007.  Bob was on the verge of moving to L.A., but in between packing (him) and preparing to relocate seven blocks (me), he made a trip to Best Buy and blind purchased season 1 of Friday Night Lights.  Over cheeseburgers and coffee that night, we plopped down on the living room floor, fired up the DVD player, and waited to be entertained.

Four episodes and several Kleenex later, we were hooked.

See, Friday Night Lights is all about football, and it isn't.  In the fictional town of Dillon, Texas (based on the real-life town of Odessa, as chronicled in the book Friday Night Lights, written by H.G. Bissenger, cousin of Peter Berg, who directed the film and adapted the book for TV), high school football is essentially the cherry on top of a shit sundae.  The Dillon Panthers are the town's great hope--and for some players, it's the peak of their lives.  Many will escape the tiny town--often with the help of football scholarships, making the stakes even higher--but most will not, proudly sporting their championship rings into gray and paunchy adulthood as they work at car dealerships and/or live vicariously through their athletic offspring and younger siblings.  At the helm of the program is new coach Eric Taylor, who gets For Sale signs on his lawn when the Panthers lose and plays surrogate father to several kids who've had less-than-ideal upbringings.  And when a star player suffers a life-changing injury during the season opener, well, it's a whole new ball game.

Yeah, I know.  Pretty standard sports-movie stuff: coach as father figure, second stringer turned reluctant rising star, fans who at first glance just need to get a life and stop obsessively following teenagers.

So how the hell did Friday Night Lights wrestle laughter, tears, and "touchdown, goddammit!"s from two urban theatrephiles who successfully escaped their athlete-centered farm towns?

Again, it's about football.  But it isn't.

It's about families: balancing a career that both fulfills and pays the bills, with spending time with those you're supporting in the first place.  It's about relationships: falling for someone whose values are the exact opposite of yours, and maintaining love and respect for the ones who've stood by you for years.  It's about a community: zeroing in on the stifling aspects that have some yearning to leave, as well as the comfort that keeps many around.  It's about playing a sport because everyone else does; finding yourself challenged, revered and suspected all at once; caring for a grandparent afflicted with Alzheimer's; having a parent in Iraq and hoping he's safe but knowing life is easier when he's not around; wanting nothing more than to please Coach while also finding his daughter really cute.

And that last sentence?  Is just ONE CHARACTER.

Thanks to the stellar writing and acting of Friday Night Lights, even the most minor characters are everything and nothing they appear to be.  Just as you the viewer root for someone or write them off, one word or gesture changes your whole opinion.  The biggest stereotype evolves into the most complex.  And it's not all gloom and doom.  Every episode is a jewel: funny, intense, nuanced.  Kind of like life.

Seriously.  Even if Remember the Titans and Major League make you want to retch your cornflakes, give Friday Night Lights a whirl.  Netflix, iTunes, Hulu, whatever you need to do, track this show down.  Dive in, watch it, love it.

And for now, enjoy the exquisite opening credits music (four seasons in, and I still don't fast forward past it).

Nightstand Watch: What Unpro's Reading

*blows virtual dust off blog*

*slams head against desk for subjecting readers to such a bad joke*

In short, y'all, I'm sorry for the lack of posting lately.  Life has been, well, happening.  I also haven't been reading and commenting on my fave blogs as much (Sadako and Nikki, I still love you!).  Hopefully I'm well on the way to getting my groove back, and bloggy absence will be no more.

Anyway, I HAVE had a little time to read lately--in fact, I've made it a point to at least skim a few pages daily.  My library books have been piling up, to the point where I've started putting them on my floor rather than my nightstand, to avoid them toppling onto my cat.   And speaking of nightstands, one of my favorite features on Entertainment Weekly's Popwatch blog is "Nightstand Watch," where the blogger, then the commenters, share what they're currently reading.  This week, I come to you with a little Nightstand Watch of my own.  Here are four books I've read recently, and the one I'm currently reading, in no particular order:

1.  Good Enough to Eat (Stacey Ballis)
I met fellow Chicagoan Stacey Ballis on the same night I met Jen Lancaster, at a reading/signing for Stacey's book The Spinster Sisters.  I've really enjoyed all four of Ms. Ballis' previous novels: her female characters are empowered by their imperfections, extremely intelligent, and have a great sense of fun.  Plus, her love for the Windy City shines through in every word, and there's just something about authors and auteurs who get Chicago locations exactly right, as opposed to just throwing in "Sears Tower" and "Marshall Fields" (or, ahem, "Willis Tower" and "Macy's," BOO) every other sentence.

With this in mind, I really wanted to like her latest, Good Enough to Eat.  I even bought it as opposed to borrowing, because I like to support my fave writers who aren't New York Times-bestsellers (yet).  And the concept had so much potential: an overweight lawyer goes to cooking school, opens her own organic food business, loses half her body weight, and THEN loses her husband to a woman twice her new size.  I love anything to do with food (which is why I'm still watching Top Chef Just Desserts even though I HATE Seth and his whiny mommy fixation), and exploring a woman's complex relationship with it sounded even better.  And yet . . . I was disappointed.  The writing felt a little lazy, the characters were cliches (hi, sassy yet supportive gay friend!  howyadoin, wise African American soul food chef!  what's happenin', flaky Manic Pixie Dream Girl with pink hair?), and I thought the straight men (MPDG's boyfriend in particular) got away with so much shit without consequence.  While I did enjoy the narrator's voice, the food descriptions, and the cool low-fat and full-fat recipes, most of Good Enough to Eat left me hungry.  Try Ms. Ballis' first four books, particularly Inappropriate Men and The Spinster Sisters, before you pick up this one.


2.  A Little Bit Wicked: Life, Love and Faith in Stages (Kristin Chenoweth)
So I used to haaaaaate Kristin Chenoweth.  To the point where when her name was mentioned, I'd go to the bathroom and fake vomiting sounds, attempt to asphyxiate myself with a pink pillow, or just yell, "ARRRGH I WANNA KICK PUPPIES."  I mean, she's just so tiny!  And adorable!  And squeaky!  And uber-Christian!

And genuinely talented and (if her book is to be believed) hardworking.

Goddammit.

Therefore, recommending Chenoweth's autobiography is the bloggy equivalent of me eating crow.  Big, fat, juicy, feathery crow.  What can I say?  She's totally got the wrong voice for the lead female in the Promises, Promises revival, but pulls it off anyway.  She won me over on Glee by singing a seductive cover of Bruce Springsteen's "Fire" with hottie patottie Matthew Morrison while twirling around a skating rink.  Most of all, the lady seems to be a genuine Christian, in that she's actually nice to people.  The fact that she regrets her 700 Club appearance and spoke up loudly on Sean Hayes' behalf (he plays a straight dude in Promises, Promises), well, I kinda dig that a lot.  So sing on, Ms. Chenoweth.  I've put out my white flag, then replaced it with a pink glittery one that would make Glinda proud.

3.  Hard and Fast (Erin McCarthy)
Yup, I'm still into romance novels.  After the most stressful of days, there's nothing quite like some sexy escapism in 350 pages or less.  Just like I thought I'd never be in to romance novels, I REALLY thought I'd never be into romance novels featuring race car drivers.  I mean, I poke fun at my dad's NASCAR-viewing habit on a daily basis, and Talladega Nights on TBS never fails to crack me up ("I am a NASCAR wife, Ricky!  I do not work!").  But thanks to the ladies at Smart Bitches, Trashy Books, I was introduced to Erin McCarthy's series where Sundays are king, cars are life and sex is really, really hot.  Also, the good ole boys who drive find themselves attracted to women who are talented, smart and have really great dialogue.  In Hard and Fast, dyslexic driver Ty falls for grad student Imogen and Shakespearean sparks fly.  Yes, there is Shakespeare and race car driving in the same book.  And it totally works.  Who knew?

4.  The Kid (Dan Savage)
Despite idly reading his explicitly frank advice column for years, and enjoying the hell out of The Commitment, his book on relationships, I consider myself a recent Dan Savage convert.  The dude is a dirty, fetish-y god, and I would totally stalk him in Seattle if he were into vaginas.  Don't believe me?  Check out his inspirational It Gets Better project on YouTube, or subscribe to his fantastic Savage Love podcast, where he doles out wisdom on everything from boobs to bondage with the vocal acumen of Wolfman Jack.  Or read The Kid, his 1999 memoir about adopting a child with his boyfriend Terry.  I have no desire whatsoever for spawn, but I was alternately cracking up and choking up the whole time.  Dan, on the .00001% chance you're reading this, I heart you from the depths of my Catholic-girl soul, and can't wait to hear you speak at the Chicago Humanities Festival next month.  Can I have a hug?

5.  Last Night at Chateau Marmont (Lauren Weisberger)
I've always thought Lauren Weisberger got a bad rap.  Granted, she's probably laughing all the way to the bank, after her first book The Devil Wears Prada was adapted into a fairly successful and pretty funny movie, but critics seem to haaaate her.  Look, not everything can be War and Peace.  And you know what?  Her characters may come off shallow and entitled at times, but the woman worked for Anna fucking Wintour, for God's sake.  She probably STILL has scars and eating issues!  When it comes to protagonists, however, I think nutritionist Brooke of Last Night at Chateau Marmont is my favorite.  Brooke is sweet, hardworking, and believably struggling to adjust to the fact that her husband, whose musical dreams she has financially and emotionally supported for years, is now an overnight sensation.  Brooke doesn't feel entitled to anything, just respect and equal support from her rock-star spouse.  This is a fun, fast read (I'm almost at the end and I just started yesterday), probably not worth the hardcover price, but definitely worth a good ol' fashioned borrow.

Because I STILL feel guilty about not posting lately, here's a fun video for thy pains:



What are YOU reading right now?  Any recommendations/stay-the-hell-away-from-this-book(s)? On a sorta-related thought, anyone doing NaNoWriMo this year?  Anyone out there?  Leave a comment!

I Think I'm in Love: Podcasts

In the midst of stress and worry, can come something new and wonderful.

Back when I was mired in law school misery, I listened to music constantly.  Because I was hungry for new tunes in my ears to relieve the darkness in my heart, I accepted any and all suggestions from friends, and discovered The Postal Service, Death Cab for Cutie, The Shins, and the Broadway brilliance that is Avenue Q.  (Because I have yet to meet an individual whose day ISN'T automatically brightened upon hearing "It Sucks to Be Me.")  I clutched my iPod lifeline and learned all the words, and eventually things got better.

Right now, I'm still in a funk.

And I have discovered podcasts.

Late to the party, I know.  I'd previously rejected podcasts as being waaaaay too "This American Life."

Unpro's Sidebar re: "This American Life"
I do not enjoy "This American Life."  Though I was never a big O.C. fan, I think Summer said it all with the following: "Is that where a bunch of pretentious hipsters talk about how fascinating ordinary people are?  God!"

I always figured: why listen to talk talk talk when I can groove on the sidewalk?  But then I opened my closed little mind, and discovered podcasts provide a different kind of groove.  A slow burn, a calm voice, a giggle.  A just-what-I-need-right-now buzz.  And they're FREE.

When I asked my friends to share their faves, getting through the day got just the tiniest bit easier.  And every little step helps, right?

Below are some podcasts I now heart, in chronological order of when I discovered them.  Better late than never, right?

1.  YogaDownloads.com
I first discovered yoga podcasts shortly before embarking on my writing residency.  The small town I would call home for two whole weeks wasn't exactly bursting with yoga studios, and I'm not yet at the point where I can comfortably practice on my own.  Behold: YogaDownloads, which provides 25-minute yoga sessions, gentle voices, and user-friendly poses.  In my little writer's studio, I could take breaks and get my namaste on.  Awesome.

2.  The Nerdist
Nothing is more fun than listening to Jon Hamm goof on pubic-hair beards.  I totally hated Singled Out in high school, but host Chris Hardwick's come a long way: dude is genuinely funny, and appreciative of the funny in everyone else.  Where else can you hear Joel McHale's best Transformers impersonation, Weird Al geeking out over Malcolm McDowell, and the Muppets dish on social media?  Comedy is both an art and a science, and listening to The Nerdist provides one hell of an education on the form.

3.  The Moth
For those of you who are unaware (like, ahem, me), The Moth is a storytelling slam taking place in New York, L.A., Chicago, and any city that can get a grant.  It's essentially an open mic with a different theme each time, and performers cannot use notes.  Improv was never my strong point, and I'm sure I'd be floundering were I given a turn at the mic.  However, the ones who are good at this, are really, really good.  Listen to author Meg Wolitzer recount her first experience with love, and her camp boyfriend's dogged attempts to get to "first base."  You'll be laughing all the way to work.

4.  Doug Loves Movies
Comedian Doug Benson presents a sort of Nerdist on celluloid: instead of comedy being the main topic, it's movies.  Stand-ups and stars like Steve Agee and Ellen Page, respectively, join Doug in live shows to dish on what they've been watching lately.  However, the highlight of every podcast is when everyone plays "Leonard Maltin," a "Name That Tune" for movie geeks.  I'm sad to admit I correctly guessed that a movie from 1993 featuring a bunch of random people was To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.

5.  Savage Love
I'd been a fan of Dan Savage's explicitly frank writing for years (try his weekly print/online column or his book on relationships, Committed).  He's bitchy, biting and most importantly, nonjudgmental.  Name a kink, a fetish, a problem in the bedroom, and he'll give it to you straight (pun intended), with a wicked sense of humor.  But as fantastic as reading Savage Love is, there's something about hearing this dude school people over the phone.  He's the best kind of call-in show host there is, Sleepless in Seattle if Meg Ryan had a foot fetish.

Know any more good 'uns?  Leave a comment!

Don't Worry, Be Happy: Top 5 Video Pick-Me-Ups

So I've been a little sad of late.

This is hard for me to admit.  I mean, most aspects of my life are fabulous, and a vast improvement over several years ago, when I was in law school and battling depression and anxiety.  And with the vast amount of suffering going on in the world, I always feel guilty whining about myself.

Still, some personal things in the last few weeks have me feeling down.  And I don't like it at all.

Besides the usual coping mechanisms--exercise, healthy food, reading, talking to friends--I've found some sanctuary in silly TV and videos.  Whatever works, right?  Below are five visual stimulants that can make me laugh, even when I feel like crying.

1.  Hellcats
Even if the words "CW" and "Bring It On goes to college" didn't sell me, the involvement of Ashley Tisdale (whose Sharpay in the High School Musical films reminded me a bit too much of teenage Unpro) and Aly Michalka (who was excellent in the cute-teen-movie-that-nobody-saw Bandslam) would get me to watch in a heartbeat.  And true, it's not a completely flawless show: at times the heroine, a prelaw student who reluctantly joins her school's competitive cheer squad to replace her lost scholarship, comes off a little TOO snarky.  Also, the "adult" plots are completely boring: more locker room and pom pom shenanigans, please.  That said, there's a lot of things I like: I like how the show's set in Memphis and not L.A.  I like the diverse cast, and how the potential love interest for the blonde white girl is African American.  (Yes, you see that more than you used to.  Still not a lot.)  And I'm a sucker for a good dance number.  Hellcats is mind candy at its sweetest.  I can't complain when Sharpay is gracing my TV.



2.  Joel McHale and a surprise guest on Countdown With Keith Olbermann
You thought my pick-me-up list wouldn't include my #1 celeb crush?  Think again.  When I commented on a Jezebel post regarding celeb fidelity a while back, a fellow Jez alerted me to what is possibly the most adorable video ever.  Anyone who's heard Joel's stand-up comedy knows all about his older son Eddie, but second child Isaac doesn't get as much spotlight (then again, Isaac's only two).  Not the case in this clip from Keith Olbermann's Countdown, filmed shortly after President Obama's election in 2008.  In what was probably a last-minute decision, Joel rattles off political commentary and banters with Keith, while simultaneously wrangling his giraffe sleeper-clad younger son.  Yeah, I don't even want kids and this clip had my ovaries in overdrive.  Four letters: D.I.L.F.



3.  "Two Worlds Collide" (Saturday Night Live)
From the category of Comedy Shorts That Shouldn't Work But Inexplicably Do comes this little gem, in which the adorable Andy Samberg raps about his love for "America's Sweetheart" Reba McEntire (Kenan Thompson).  Yes, Kenan Thompson plays Reba McEntire.  I remember when the short first aired, as part of the Saturday Night Live hosted by Joseph Gordon-Levitt (celeb crush #3).  I spent the first half shaking my head in confusion, and the second half cracking up.  And it holds up on near-daily repeat viewings.  Just trust me and click Play. I'm Reba!



4.  "New Senator" (Saturday Night Live)
As you've probably guessed, I'm not one of those SNL purists who constantly goes on about how the show's sucked since Joe Piscopo left to concentrate on his burgeoning movie career.  Yes, some sketches are better than others.  But if you've got a genuinely funny host who really commits to the material, there are belly laughs to be had.  Case in point: Jon Hamm (celeb crush #2), whose two hosting gigs in as many years have yielded some new classics.  In this sketch, Hamm dons a pretty impressive Massachusetts accent to play Senator Scott Brown, who goes from party enemy to object of lust for the Democratic contingent.  Oh, and he's in skimpy outfits.  YES.



5.  Burlesque trailer
Recently, my best friend Bob announced his decision to move back to Chicago.  I can't lie: the fact that I won't have to travel 2,000 miles to hang out with him come November is part of what's getting me through the day.  Upon seeing the trailer for Burlesque, I immediately informed Bob that he will be my date to what is sure to be a glittery train wreck.  Cher advising Christina Aguilera on make-up application!  Kristen Bell goes from Veronica Mars to dance club diva!  Stanley Tucci with his hot bald head and requisite one-liners!  Vocal riffs!  Costumes!  Did I mention CHER?  Oh yes.  There will be cocktails.  And then there will be Burlesque.



Hope you enjoyed my rundown of tele-giggles.  What are your favorite pick-me-ups?  Leave a comment!

Riot Grrrls: Katniss Everdeen and Lisbeth Salander

Disclaimer: the following post may contain spoilers of Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games trilogy (The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay) and Stieg Larsson's Millenium trilogy (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played With Fire, and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest).  You have been warned.

Every girl needs a heroine.

I don't want to be all "kids these days with the hippin' and the hoppin' and the bippin' and the boppin'" (though I've found myself increasingly so since I hit 30 last month), but when Miley Cyrus is twanging away like a southern-fried chipmunk, Heidi Montag's making sex tapes with a Playmate, and Lindsay Lohan's just . . . gone, I do worry a bit for today's young women and who's setting an example.

My generation had, among other pop culture staples, A League of Their Own, a female-driven sports movie that was empowering in its portrayal of women who were brave and powerful at a time when anything beyond marriage and babies was scandalous.  (It's also the movie that made eleven-year-old me a feminist, true story.)  When Whip It was released last year, I hoped its "be your own hero" message would ring in the ears of every teenage girl nationwide.  If the paltry box office figures are any indication, it didn't.

Also, I worry that kids don't read anymore.  (Granted, I remember my parents and grandparents saying the same thing,  and I was a bookworm from the word go, so maybe that concern will persist till the apocalypse.)  That's why I can't totally hate on the Twilight books.  They may be crappily written with a protag who resembles a wrung-out washcloth, but anything that gets young people excited about reading is a good thing.  One can hope they move on to better stuff, but at the same time, if they keep reading drivel, that's okay too.  Better reading than making sexy YouTube videos of themselves for their MySpace pages, ya know?  (God, I'm crotchety.)

However, two recent book series featuring young women who take charge despite less-than-stellar pasts are making waves in the publishing, and now the film, industry.  And though I find both of them imperfect and not always likable, I'm still glad they're out there.

Katniss Everdeen is the narrator and main character of the Hunger Games trilogy, the last of which, Mockingjay, was released last week.  Sixteen-year-old Katniss has come of age in a society like ours yet not, growing up poor and relying on her hunting skills to feed her mother and younger sister.  Each year, two young people from each of the society's twelve districts are randomly chosen to participate in the Hunger Games, a televised survival competition from which only one victor can emerge alive.  When Katniss' sister is chosen from their district, Katniss steps in for her--and as the books progress, finds herself in the Games twice and as the reluctant leader of a rebellion.

Lisbeth Salander of the Millenium trilogy is a little older than Katniss, in her early twenties, and shares protagonist duties with fallen journalist Mikael Blomkvist.  Like Katniss, Lisbeth's youth had many challenges; only in Lisbeth's case they involved abuse, rape and an unnecessary stay in a mental institution.  Just like Katniss with her bow and arrow, Lisbeth has an unusual but useful gift: she can hack into any technology system.  Throughout three books, Lisbeth and Blomkvist work together and apart to solve mysteries that affect their past and present, and eventually lead back to the Swedish justice system and its horrible treatment of women.

Both these young women are the anti-Bella Swan: brave, intelligent, and most of all active.  They do have love interests--for Katniss, it's her childhood friend Gale and fellow Hunger Games participant Peeta; for Lisbeth, it's artist Monique and at one point, Blomkvist himself--but romance and sex isn't the focus of their stories.  Not that there's anything wrong with love stories, but pop culture often projects that young women aren't capable of much else.

Not much is made about how gorgeous and/or thin they are, either.  When Katniss is made over by an entourage in preparation for the Games and later the rebellion propaganda, she sees it as weird and unusual, not as every girl's dream to look pretty.  Lisbeth is described as having small, doll-like features, but she dresses however the hell she wants, which often involves black leather.  And when Katniss is described as thin, it's because she's malnourished, not because it's desirable.  Both Katniss and Lisbeth are physically strong, with muscles.  Katniss is quick with weapons and strategic thinking.  Lisbeth rides a motorcycle and has a shitload of computer stuff.  Not exactly Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield, and I love that.

I must admit, however: I never quite warmed to Katniss the way I did to Lisbeth.  Part of it was Collins' writing.  In the Hunger Games trilogy, for which Katniss is the first-person narrator, we get a lot of "then this happened," "then this happened," without really going into how Katniss felt about things, or why she performs a certain action.  It's hard to constantly be in someone's head if she's coming off like a machine, with human moments that are very few and far between.  I don't have to agree with the protagonist or like them 100% of the time, but I do need to feel compelled.  Katniss came off so cold at times that this could be a challenge.

Not that Larsson's prose, even in translation, wasn't without its issues.  (I hate to speak ill of the dead, but: dude, do NOT wrap up your A plot before you wrap up your B, C, D, and E plots.  Also, I don't need the exact brand names of what every character ate, wore or typed on.  It's a novel, not an Apple catalogue.)  However, third person narration was probably the best thing he could have done for Lisbeth.  It keeps her at a distance from the reader--we're in her head, but not completely.  Though it's never confirmed, it's speculated that Lisbeth has Asperger's syndrome, which also explains her erratic way of communication.  Even more motivation for her sometimes extreme actions is provided as Larsson reveals Lisbeth's horrifying past, which hasn't completely dissipated.  I didn't always like Lisbeth, but I felt that I understood her.

A sensation in its native Sweden way before the translation hit shelves Stateside, all three Millenium books have been made into films, which are gradually being released by Music Box Films (yay, Chicago!).  The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is now on DVD, and I can't recommend it highly enough (and it's okay if you haven't read the book.  I hadn't when I first saw it, and was able to put everything together).  The movie is intense but rewarding, and the piece de resistance is Noomi Rapace's nuanced, brutal interpretation of Lisbeth.  I wish Rooney Mara luck in the upcoming American remake.  She's got some big Doc Martens to fill.

As for The Hunger Games, production for the first book's film adaptation will commence next year.  I hope, hope, hope Hollywood does not screw this up and gives us a complex, interesting Katniss.  A while back my friend Nikki suggested Sarah Hyland (best known as oldest daughter Haley on Modern Family) for Katniss, which I fully support--I think she's got the chops.  I myself kept picturing Ellen Page, but she's too old now, darn it.

In some ways, the copious action of The Hunger Games may make it a better movie than book.  Either way, however, I'm glad Katniss exists in print.  Lisbeth too.  Forget chasing boys and flashing their panties--these ladies aren't afraid to kick some ass in the name of family, friends and all that is right.

Girl power!

Oh, and just because, here's some Emmy amazingness from last night, featuring my top 2 celeb crushes:

Excess Baggage: Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

"We probably can't make the 10 p.m. show."

It was Thursday night, and I was hanging out with a friend.  On impulse, he suggested we see Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, which he had already seen twice.  In the theatre.  Paying full price.  And he wanted to go again.

Up until this point, I was hesitant: anyone who's read my reviews of Away We Go  and (500) Days of Summer know that I hate being marketed to.  I also hate excess hype.  And having only been out a week or so, Scott Pilgrim had already delivered plenty of both.  I'm not a hipster per se, but I have hipster tendencies, plus several of my friends are into comics.  Did I mention that I'm also a little sick of Michael Cera?  Dude needs to play a serial killer on CSI or something.  Yes, I love director Edgar Wright, but I wasn't sure if that was enough to justify the movie-theatre price.

However, my friend is a tough critic (in fact, he was a big influence on me when I first met him in high school.  He also introduced me to MST3K, so there's that).  I'd had a stressful week at work.  It was Thursday, so I only had one more day to get through till the weekend.  And for the first time in days, I wasn't exhausted, and was up for a little movie-going adventure.

"We can try," I told my friend.  "Let's go!"

After a cab ride that was the stuff of wackiness (for you Chicagoans out there, our driver thought we meant Maple Street on the Gold Coast, not Maple Avenue in Evanston, so the ride involved a U-ie and a huge amount of the driver mumbling to himself) and a wonky credit-card machine, we made it to the theatre at exactly 10 p.m.  Amid a crowd of people our age or younger, we settled in and I wondered if I could get over the hipness, the hype, the Cera.

Yes, yes, and dammit Cera,  you totally won me over.  Again.

So Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is based on a comic book series, about a boy in a band who falls in love with a girl with a past.  Specifically, Ramona Flowers has seven evil exes that Scott must defeat before their relationship can progress any further.  But Scott's got a bit of a past himself, including an underage girlfriend, a bandmate he dumped in high school, and various other issues.  Will the right asses get kicked, or are Scott and Ramona doomed from the start?

First, the filmmaking rocks.  Even though I watch a bazillion movies, for me the actual camera work and effects are like the orchestra in a musical--I only notice if it's really, really good or really, really bad.  Scott Pilgrim keeps things fun without going too ADHD, with old-school style visuals (think bang!, riiiing!, hearts, and bright colors), nods to '80's video games that even I (for whom Nintendo was banned as a child) could recognize, and one particularly genius scene that's structured like an episode of Seinfeld.  Sure, there can be such a thing as too much pop culture, and Scott Pilgrim walks a fine line at times, but Wright knows just when to pull back.

Second, the characterization and performances are surprisingly strong.  Comic-book movies work best when the actors can, you know, act (think the Spider-Man films), and Wright's casting here was 99% spot on.  And yes, I'm including the Cera.  The boy was BORN to play Scott Pilgrim.  The insecurity, the mumbling, the dorky wit and the googly-eyed crushing are all vintage Cera, and it works so very, very well.  Possibly my favorite performance in the whole film, however, was Kieran Culkin as Scott's roommate Wallace.  Even in 2010, it's so rare to see a realistic portrayal of a gay guy--you know, one who isn't a mincing, swishy stereotype, and one who is actually seen with a boyfriend.

If you're a fan of Arrested Development, you're in luck: Mae Whitman (George Michael's girlfriend Ann, aka Her?) and Thomas Jane (Homeless Dad, who just wants his kids back) pop up in two unexpected and highly entertaining cameos.  And I know his tenure as The Next Big Thing didn't work out, but between this film and Zack and Miri Make a Porno, Brandon Routh needs to do more comedy. Plus, Mary Elizabeth Winstead strikes the right balance between dry and heartfelt as Ramona Flowers, and she's believable as a funky chick (as opposed to some Hollywood fake-tanned babe they "grunged down").  I really wish I could dye my hair those colors, and I totally want her cute pink thigh-highs with the black lace trim.

Overall, the ensemble's strong, with only two weak links:
1) Mark Webber who plays the lead singer in Scott's band, Sex Bob-omb, is quite whiny and doesn't bring much to the table.
2) Aubrey Plaza.  *sigh*  I realize I'm going to get raked over the coals for this, but: I am SICK of Aubrey Plaza.  Yes, she's fine in three-minute doses on Parks and Recreation, and the April/Andy storyline of last season was charming.  That said, I really don't understand why she's suddenly everywhere.  Wait, yes I do: all the hipster guys want to bang her.  Because seriously?  I too can roll my eyes and talk in a monotone, yet I don't have a recurring role on NBC and a host of talk-show appearances.  And Ms. Plaza?  Every single actress in this film (including Winstead, Anna Kendrick, and Alison Pill) did your deadpan schtick BETTER THAN YOU.  Because they know the wonders of nuance and depth.  You've got a ways to go, sweetie. /endrant

QUIRKY!  (Ugh.)

With any movie, usually creative camera work and a strong ensemble cast sells me right then and there.  But Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is the cinematic gift that keeps on giving.  Why?

Two words: it's relatable.

Now, I've never had to beat up anyone's exes.  When my cell phone rings, there's not a neat animated visual.  And I sure as hell don't have a laugh track following me around.

But I do have baggage.  I'm not going to give you the details because a) it's not that kind of blog, and b) it even bores me, and I lived it.  However, more often than not I feel like damaged goods, relationship-wise.  I've made my share of mistakes, so who the hell would want to take me on as a ladyfriend?  In my head, I know I'm not so special and everyone's got their issues.  In my heart, it's not so obvious.

Scott Pilgrim points out that hey, we all have baggage!  We're all kind of messed up when it comes to relationships, whether they're casual or serious or uber-lovey.  But if we can work through all the muck, we'll be okay playing with others.

My head and my heart were very reassured.

For a neato double feature on young love, rock 'n roll, and the Cera, see Scott Pilgrim vs. the World in theatres, then go rent Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist (the latter is based on a fantastic YA novel!).  You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll hum along, you'll remember that you and everyone else are only human.  We all mess up, but we're all one another's saving grace.