Sunday, September 30, 2018
Let's Go Crazy
Ian and I finally saw Crazy Rich Asians this week. We enjoyed it. From the previews, I was a little concerned it would be two hours of Michelle Yeoh hilariously disapproving of Constance Wu -- sort of like a long-overdue remake of Monster In-Law -- but it there was a lot more to it than that. I actually really enjoyed just seeing all of the images of Singapore, which I am horrified to report I think I maybe had confused with Hong Kong? But regardless, it seems like a really cool place, even if the movie does make it seem like they eat too many crustaceans for my liking.
I thought the cast was all pretty entertaining, even if the movie did seem to me at times to make every character wacky in some way in that Big Fat Greek Wedding mold. Awkwafina deserves an Oscar for the hairstyle alone, and I found Gemma Chan quite delightful throughout, although the writers did sort of appear to forget that she had her own plotline at times. Personally I could have done with less Ken Jeong, but America seems to disagree with me on that, so so be it. Ain't everything for everybody.
I did have kind of a problem with the central romance, though, in that the movie utterly fails to address how this couple would ever work going forward. I mean, it's not like his family is going to move to the U.S., and apparently her professorship in New York is so important to her that she could never move, even though (1) she's probably living in a one bedroom with three roommates on a professor's salary in Manhattan and (2) she doesn't seem to ever actually want to like, grade papers or work on lectures or anything during her alleged Spring Break. And even if the family has genuinely come around to accept her at the end, is she ever really going to feel comfortable around them given the hell they put her through? And her mother? I'm not saying, I'm just saying.
Anyway, cute movie, good times. And now my pop culture knowledge is caught up to a month ago.
Ian and I finally saw Crazy Rich Asians this week. We enjoyed it. From the previews, I was a little concerned it would be two hours of Michelle Yeoh hilariously disapproving of Constance Wu -- sort of like a long-overdue remake of Monster In-Law -- but it there was a lot more to it than that. I actually really enjoyed just seeing all of the images of Singapore, which I am horrified to report I think I maybe had confused with Hong Kong? But regardless, it seems like a really cool place, even if the movie does make it seem like they eat too many crustaceans for my liking.
I thought the cast was all pretty entertaining, even if the movie did seem to me at times to make every character wacky in some way in that Big Fat Greek Wedding mold. Awkwafina deserves an Oscar for the hairstyle alone, and I found Gemma Chan quite delightful throughout, although the writers did sort of appear to forget that she had her own plotline at times. Personally I could have done with less Ken Jeong, but America seems to disagree with me on that, so so be it. Ain't everything for everybody.
I did have kind of a problem with the central romance, though, in that the movie utterly fails to address how this couple would ever work going forward. I mean, it's not like his family is going to move to the U.S., and apparently her professorship in New York is so important to her that she could never move, even though (1) she's probably living in a one bedroom with three roommates on a professor's salary in Manhattan and (2) she doesn't seem to ever actually want to like, grade papers or work on lectures or anything during her alleged Spring Break. And even if the family has genuinely come around to accept her at the end, is she ever really going to feel comfortable around them given the hell they put her through? And her mother? I'm not saying, I'm just saying.
Anyway, cute movie, good times. And now my pop culture knowledge is caught up to a month ago.
Saturday, September 15, 2018
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Last week Ian and I were headed to our friend's housewarming party in Bronzeville when I got a call from our alarm company. Our alarm was going off, they said, and they had an indication of a glass break. This was literally the first time they've ever called me when I haven't just (1) accidentally set off the alarm myself or (2) forgotten to update the expiration date on the credit card that's on file with them, so we took it pretty seriously. We turned around and headed home, and the alarm company called the police to meet us.
When we got there, the police said they had checked the doors and windows and didn't see any sign of a break-in, but I figured these could be really skillful cat burglars, like in the Ocean's franchise, so I asked them to stick around while we checked out the house. They were happy to do this, probably because it meant less time they had to deal with actual crime, which is likely kind of a drag. Ian and I swept the whole house (I even checked the shoe closet) and did not see anything suspicious.
Other than the trash can in the kitchen, that is, which our four-legged friend had apparently tipped over in search of delicious food trash. Apparently, the "glass break" detector isn't actually something on the glass, but a microphone set to detect noise on the frequency and volume of a glass break. So went sent the friendly constables on their way and sat down for a long talk with Aubrey about why she doesn't find the Hallmark Channel sufficiently diverting to keep her from dumpster diving. (I assumed it would be that she finds Danica McKellar offputting, but it turns out that's just me.) And the next day we went to Target to buy a baby gate we can use to prevent future trash expeditions. Clearly, we are living our best lives.
Last week Ian and I were headed to our friend's housewarming party in Bronzeville when I got a call from our alarm company. Our alarm was going off, they said, and they had an indication of a glass break. This was literally the first time they've ever called me when I haven't just (1) accidentally set off the alarm myself or (2) forgotten to update the expiration date on the credit card that's on file with them, so we took it pretty seriously. We turned around and headed home, and the alarm company called the police to meet us.
When we got there, the police said they had checked the doors and windows and didn't see any sign of a break-in, but I figured these could be really skillful cat burglars, like in the Ocean's franchise, so I asked them to stick around while we checked out the house. They were happy to do this, probably because it meant less time they had to deal with actual crime, which is likely kind of a drag. Ian and I swept the whole house (I even checked the shoe closet) and did not see anything suspicious.
Other than the trash can in the kitchen, that is, which our four-legged friend had apparently tipped over in search of delicious food trash. Apparently, the "glass break" detector isn't actually something on the glass, but a microphone set to detect noise on the frequency and volume of a glass break. So went sent the friendly constables on their way and sat down for a long talk with Aubrey about why she doesn't find the Hallmark Channel sufficiently diverting to keep her from dumpster diving. (I assumed it would be that she finds Danica McKellar offputting, but it turns out that's just me.) And the next day we went to Target to buy a baby gate we can use to prevent future trash expeditions. Clearly, we are living our best lives.
Saturday, September 08, 2018
The Race Card
Today I found myself having to explain to a group of my fellow lawyer theatricals why it is exactly that I am not comfortable with the idea of a white person playing an Asian person on stage. As someone who, as a child, was pressed into playing one of the "Siamese children" in The King & I (which is also why I had black hair for my sixth grade photo), you would think I would have a well-thought-out rationale at hand. But as it turned out, my opening salvo was something along the lines of "it's just kind of icky, isn't it?"
To be fair, my sparring partners did not do much better, saying things like "I mean, it's not like we're going to do Asian eyes or anything" and "but what about Hamilton?" In fact, it was the utter inability of the older straight white men I was talking with to even fathom why anyone could even consider this to be a problem that kind of got me off kilter. But I'm afraid our dialogue wasn't exactly transcendent; I did end up invoking both Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany's and the shameful legacy of blackface.
I guess at the end of the day I just don't understand why, since we're doing a show where we write every single word in it, we would ever choose to write roles that we don't have appropriate cast members to play. It's not like there's a shortage of white people in the news and pop culture to make fun of. And since our audience mainly just wants the show to be short so they can get back to a place where they can drink, maybe one fewer number isn't the worst thing?
At least drinking is one thing we can all agree on.
Today I found myself having to explain to a group of my fellow lawyer theatricals why it is exactly that I am not comfortable with the idea of a white person playing an Asian person on stage. As someone who, as a child, was pressed into playing one of the "Siamese children" in The King & I (which is also why I had black hair for my sixth grade photo), you would think I would have a well-thought-out rationale at hand. But as it turned out, my opening salvo was something along the lines of "it's just kind of icky, isn't it?"
To be fair, my sparring partners did not do much better, saying things like "I mean, it's not like we're going to do Asian eyes or anything" and "but what about Hamilton?" In fact, it was the utter inability of the older straight white men I was talking with to even fathom why anyone could even consider this to be a problem that kind of got me off kilter. But I'm afraid our dialogue wasn't exactly transcendent; I did end up invoking both Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany's and the shameful legacy of blackface.
I guess at the end of the day I just don't understand why, since we're doing a show where we write every single word in it, we would ever choose to write roles that we don't have appropriate cast members to play. It's not like there's a shortage of white people in the news and pop culture to make fun of. And since our audience mainly just wants the show to be short so they can get back to a place where they can drink, maybe one fewer number isn't the worst thing?
At least drinking is one thing we can all agree on.
Saturday, September 01, 2018
Indy Star
I had to go to Indianapolis for work this week. As with many work trips, I did not see much outside of my hotel and the conference room where the depositions were. And this time, I chose my hotel based entirely on proximity to the law firm where the depositions were, so my room looked directly out onto the expressway. Also they did not clean it while I was out working, instead sliding a note under my door at 4:30 PM that said they were honoring my request for privacy and I could call to have the room cleaned between the hours of 10 AM and 3 PM. That unfortunately was a logic problem I could not solve.
I did get to see my friend Jeanne, who lives in Carmel, which I am told is like the fancy suburb of Indianapolis? We went to dinner at Olive Garden and ate our weight in breadsticks. I nearly died six times while following her there in my car, due to the delightful "roundabouts" that have replaced good old fashioned intersections. If you enjoy trying to guess whether maniacs in pickups with Trump decals are planning to go straight or curve around and smash into you, you'll love them. But it was worth it for some reasonably-priced fake Italian food served by a woman who was definitely too old for her high ponytail. And sparkling conversation, of course -- that is a given.
I had to go to Indianapolis for work this week. As with many work trips, I did not see much outside of my hotel and the conference room where the depositions were. And this time, I chose my hotel based entirely on proximity to the law firm where the depositions were, so my room looked directly out onto the expressway. Also they did not clean it while I was out working, instead sliding a note under my door at 4:30 PM that said they were honoring my request for privacy and I could call to have the room cleaned between the hours of 10 AM and 3 PM. That unfortunately was a logic problem I could not solve.
I did get to see my friend Jeanne, who lives in Carmel, which I am told is like the fancy suburb of Indianapolis? We went to dinner at Olive Garden and ate our weight in breadsticks. I nearly died six times while following her there in my car, due to the delightful "roundabouts" that have replaced good old fashioned intersections. If you enjoy trying to guess whether maniacs in pickups with Trump decals are planning to go straight or curve around and smash into you, you'll love them. But it was worth it for some reasonably-priced fake Italian food served by a woman who was definitely too old for her high ponytail. And sparkling conversation, of course -- that is a given.
