Movie/DVD Review: Quick Reviews!

Okay, I’ve seen too many movies in the past few months to review them all individually (i.e. I’m lazy), so here’s a quick catch-up review of as many of them as I can remember!

MOVIES

• Kung Fu Panda | 5/5 stars | Hilarious!! Jack Black is the bomb.
• The Incredible Hulk | 2.5/5 stars | I liked the first one better. Started well, floppy ending.
• Indiana Jones | 1/5 stars | Ugh.
• Horton Hears a Who | 3/5 stars | Cute.
• Forbidden Kingdom | 2/5 stars | The Li/Chan fight was AWESOME though!
• Iron Man | 5/5 stars | Much, much better than I expected! I really liked it!

DVDs

• Michael Clayton | 3.5/5 stars | Suspenseful, intriguing.
• Beowulf | 2.5/5 stars | Very, very (disgustingly) graphic. Interesting story though.
• Dan in Real Life | 3/5 stars | Cute story, annoying daughters.
• Enchanted | 2.5/5 stars | Slow-moving, predictable. Sweet for small kids though.
• The Water Horse | 3/5 stars | Cute movie.
• In the Name of the King | 1.5/5 stars | Ray Liotta was annoying.
• 27 Dresses | 2/5 stars | So predictable! Which is acceptable, but do it well if possible!
• P.S. I Love You | 3/5 stars | Surprisingly heart-wrenching, though I didn’t like the end.
• National Treasure: Book of Secrets | 2/5 stars | Didn’t measure up to the first.
• Fool’s Gold | 2/5 stars | I keep expecting Kate Hudson to be more like her mom. My bad.
• Be Kind Rewind | 2/5 stars | Okay, I laughed. But overall it seemed pointless.
• The Spiderwick Chronicles | 4/5 stars | Good stuff! The kids were realistic, the fairies weren’t cutesy.
• Taxi | 1/5 stars | Ugh.
• The Queen | 3/5 stars | Interesting.
• Little Children | 3.5/5 stars | I like movies where we see a realistic slice of someone’s life.

I know there are others, but these are all I can remember.

Movie Review: Get Smart

This movie was just okay, in my opinion.

Don’t misunderstand: I love Steve Carell (Maxwell Smart). Okay, lemme go ahead and say it: I think Steve Carell is good looking, in a nerdily handsome way. (Most people are shocked when I say that, but really, look at him! He’s cute!) I love his subtle humor, his self-deprecating way, and his piercing eyes. Funny, nerdy men are very attractive to me.

I enjoyed lots of belly laughs in this movie too. “Crunchy bone pudding” was especially hilarious, and I also enjoyed the misfired “cone of silence” scene. Classic Carell! (Still, nearly all the funny scenes were in the previews. Sigh.)

I also thought the relationship between Smart and Agent 99 (Anne Hathaway) was kinda sweet and even believable. They were surprisingly cute together.

However, all told, the story plodded along. The laugh opportunities were too few and far between. And the expected one-liners (”Missed it by that much,” and “Would you believe …”) seemed like last-minute add-ins instead of part of the story.

Even my beloved Dwayne Johnson (my goodness he’s beautiful) seemed rather superfluous to the story. Everything that unfolded with him was no surprise.

Altogether I’d give this movie 2.75 out of 5 stars.

Movie Review: Hancock

I haven’t done a movie review in months! I’m back, but only a little bit.

I didn’t like Hancock.

It started out so well! The always bankable (and incredibly cute) Will Smith made Hancock someone you wanted to root for. The first half of the movie was about how Hancock was more of a pariah than a hero. His drunken attempts at helping were often more costly than the damage inflicted by criminals. Yet almost overnight, with the help of Ray (Jason Bateman), his new manager and friend, he turns his life around and becomes the hero we all hoped he could be.

This part of the movie was the best part. However, since it only took up the first half, it made the movie seem rushed and clumsy. I wish they’d taken the entire 90 minutes to develop the story and the characters, to make all of it more believable. The transformation was too quick, too neat and tidy.

The second half of the movie is when it crashed to its untimely demise. It’s when we learn Hancock’s true identity (although we never learn his real name), the source of his strength, and his weakness. But there were many questions that had no answers, many clumsy references that had no foundation.

***SPOILER ALERT***

For one, the whole situation with Mary (Charlize Theron) was confusing, and their relationship wasn’t believable in my opinion. When Hancock moved in to kiss her, I was shocked! I didn’t see it coming, I didn’t want it to happen, and I was horrified by the entire scenario. And why did she change into revealing leather clothes and put on two tons of black eyeliner when she showed up at his trailer?! How … typical. How expected. Blah.

Plus, the “bad guys” didn’t cut the muster. I mean, who were they? They got a combined 10 minutes of screen time, and absolutely no development. They didn’t scare me; they didn’t even warrant my full attention! They seemed like a non-issue to me, no threat whatsoever. I was a little annoyed when they showed up again. And how did they escape from prison?! Gimme a break! 

***SPOILER ALERT END***

Finally, there was so much needless cussing. I don’t inherently hate cussing in a movie, but this one went overboard–even my husband complained!

Overall I was so very dissatisfied. The story had so much potential, but it fell far short of everything it could’ve been.

I give it 1 out of 5 stars.

Why Does Food Taste So Good?

I read this awesome book by C.S. Lewis some years ago called “Perelandra.” In it, the main character had traveled to a heaven-like planet. He discovered a fruit and ate it, and it was delicious. But unlike on Earth, after he ate it he was satisfied–not necessarily full, just satisfied. Though he could’ve eaten another, he had no desire to. The character found the sensation strange; I found the passage profound. (C.S. Lewis will blow you away like that if you’re not careful.)

Why aren’t I satisfied when I eat?

I’ve been “changing my eating habits” (the politically-correct way to say “dieting”) for about a year and a half now. It started with my place of employment offering to pay half our gym membership. It got kicked up a notch when I read Dr. Jordan Rubin’s “The Maker’s Diet.” My goal was to lose 30 pounds and become superbly healthy in the process.

To date I’ve lost anywhere from 16 to 21 pounds (depending on when you ask). I’ve just come off another eating binge–this one was about a month long. It consisted of me waking up and saying to myself, “It’s a brand new day, another chance to make good eating choices,” then going to bed some 12 hours later saying to myself, “Stupid, stupid, STUPID! What is your DEAL?!” Yet no amount of self-cajoling or self-flagellation could stop me from stuffing my face with cake. Or beef. Or whatever I felt like eating at the moment.

Why does food taste so good?!

Meantime, a friend and co-worker has been losing an obscene amount of weight. She’s working really hard, and she’s made an art form of it. She weighs and measures her food, does research, works out twice a day–and she’s doing a triathlon next year. Amazing transformation! She looks phenomenal, and she’s growing spiritually too. I interviewed her for our church newsletter last month, and she said some really cool things. I finished writing up the article on Friday, and one thing she said grabbed my attention: She didn’t believe in herself at the start.

Now, as I mentioned, I’ve lost (up to) 21 pounds. So, that’s pretty good, right? Obviously I can do it. Right? I know, that’s what I said! But yesterday when I weighed myself and I’d gained over 2 pounds (adding up to over 3 pounds in two weeks), I had to have a chat with me. I had to recognize and acknowledge two things: I’m an emotional eater; and I don’t believe in myself.

Truth is, there’s a “magic number” on the scale that I’ve never breached. Every time I get to that number, I stop losing weight. More than that, I start gaining again. When I get to that number, I expect things to go wrong. I expect to gain, and then I do. There’s some mental block that I’m allowing to stop me from losing just 9 (+/-) more stinking pounds! What is the DEAL?!

I never thought about it until yesterday. The deal is, I really am afraid I can’t do it. So I don’t try. Seriously, I can see that pattern weaving through my entire life: I avoid things I don’t do well.

(Side-note: Jesus doesn’t let us wallow in our character flaws, does He? Crap.)

So … I’m back on the wagon. Back to telling myself “no” when I’d like to stuff my cheeks like a rabid squirrel. I know I can get back down to the magic number, but when I hit it, I’ll have to do something differently. I’ll have to think differently. I’ll have to be transformed by the renewing of my mind.

Fun times, people. Fun times.

Comfortably Lockless

I realized that after my rather whiny post about cutting off all my hair last month, I never followed up. With more than a month to adjust, here’s how I feel:

I like it! I love it! I’m glad I did it!

Since that post I’ve had it cut twice more (maintenance). I go to the barber shop; it’s easier and cheaper. Currently I’m training my now-regular barber to cut my hair without fear of taking away my girl-ness. Speaking of which, I thought it was adorable when my daughters, then and now respectively, believed I’d turned into a boy when I cut my hair! (Charis, now 16, was 3 when I first cut off all my hair and subsequently allowed it to grow back; Autumn is 6 and never knew me with short hair. Apparently to young girls, endowment with the appropriate number of “x” chromosomes is directly proportionate to the length of one’s hair.) However, I didn’t realize grown men, who cut hair for a living, can also be troubled with this same child-like belief.

Nonetheless, the careful training of my recently-adopted barber began with my first visit. I asked for a trim; he cut approximately .001 millimeters of hair. Despite his obvious trepidation, he did line me up very well. A fine start, all told.

At the second visit I said, gently but firmly, “I want you to cut my hair. Now, when I say cut,” I explained, “I mean like that gentleman there.” I pointed across the aisle at a man whose hair was long enough to brush, but short enough to withstand a strong gust of wind.

“Who, him?!” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, him,” I agreed.

Still shocked, he extended his arm and blatantly pointed. “Him?! Right there?!”

I too, pointed (more tactfully) to the hapless man, who was now the center of attention to the entire shop. “Yes. Him. Right there in front of me.”

After a tense, lengthy pause, he declared his resignation with a deep-chested release of breath. “Okay,” he sighed, in that tone that conveys the warning, “You asked for it!”

But he did a phenomenal job, and I can boast (though my own opinion is probably biased) that despite losing one of the (apparently) more important proofs, I still retained most of my girl credentials when I left his chair. I shall return this weekend to commence his training!

In the meantime, I’ve apparently inspired at least two of my friends to take the same route! Thankfully they’re both single, so I cannot be accosted by angry boyfriends or husbands who might fear mistaking their women for boys if they look too quickly.

Sometimes God’s in the Dark

In my last EMT post I shared how the Holy Spirit invited me to walk down the dark tunnel. I feel like talking about that some more.

When I got saved, I was already a wife and mother, so I was pretty set in my ways. I’d gone all my life knowing little or nothing about Jesus or God. I had prayed before; I believed in God; I just didn’t have a relationship with Him. After I got saved, I had this rosy picture of who He was and of what life would be like from that moment forward. All daisies and skipping, la la la. (I stole that from Prodigal Jon, it makes me laugh every time.) This picture, of course, is inaccurate.

I don’t mean to say that the daisies are all dead or something. They’re there, but sometimes you can’t see them because it’s pitch black where you are. And God is there too. Daisies and God, in the pitch black darkness.

I maybe know what you’re thinking, because I thought it too: God is light. He’s good and holy and perfect. He cannot exist in darkness. The darkness gives way to the light. Et cetera. And these things are true. So when He said I would find Him in the dark, I was in quite a conundrum. My body was at odds with itself: My mind argued convincingly that it wasn’t God, that self-preservation was my highest priority, that the hell I was living was better than walking into a dark unknown. But in my heart I knew it was God’s voice I’d heard, and I knew exactly what He was asking me to do: Trust Him … with no reassuring daisies and cheerful sun to tell me I was going the right way.

Seriously, it was one of the most scary, gut-wrenching decisions I ever made, but I chose to follow His voice into the dark. I was terrified. But God really was there, and He took my hand and led me through the dark to the light on the other side. Today I’m living in a future that wouldn’t exist had I gone the other way. I mean, my marriage, my children, my husband: Our lives aren’t perfect, but they’re so good, so much better than they were. What if I’d said no to Him? Man … our lives would suck. I mean it.

So, sometimes God’s in the dark, and if you want Him you have to just go there. Okay?

Catch-Up

Hey y’all. W’sup.

I know I’ve been underground lately. Sorry. Life has been sort of marching on, and I’ve felt like I’m working too hard to keep up with the daily grind to dedicate any brain power to blogging. Sad, I know. Forgive me.

So here’s what’s been going on:

1. My oldest son graduated from high school. I know, right? I’m way too young to be the mother of a high school graduate. (Anyway, that’s what I keep telling people.) When it was Kyle’s turn, I remembered a moment from when he was about 18 months old. My mom used to get him ready for me before school and send him out when she was finished. On this particular day he strolled out of my mom’s room (with his cute little baby legs) wearing a little white turtleneck and bright blue overalls. His hair was freshly brushed and his face freshly lotioned, so he was all shiny and clean and adorable. And to top it all off, he was carrying a huge Red Delicious apple that was too big for his little hands. I took a mental picture of him that morning, and that’s the picture that popped into my head as my GROWN MAN bopped across the stage and took his diploma. Sniffle.
2. My mom and dad just left from a week-long visit. They came down from Massachusetts and enjoyed the freakishly hot Carolina weather. They also spent an inordinate amount of money on their kids and grandkids. I also had a rather frightening realization while they were here: They’re getting older! My dad drives like an old man with a hat. (Everyone knows if you get stuck driving behind an old man wearing a hat, you might as well take your foot off the gas and add 15 minutes to your travel time. I thank my aunt, Gilli, for this proven wisdom.) ‘Course, he does wear a hat … and he’s got grey in his mustache and beard. What the! They’re not allowed to get old. I’ll have to send them a memo.
3. My parents are now Wii-addicts. I never thought I’d see the day my parents would station themselves in front of the TV and play video games as the day wiled away. But this day (and a couple more like it) arrived this past Wednesday. Like any good dealer, I offered to let them test it first. “Just try it; I think you’ll like it, but if you don’t, we’ll turn it off.” Suckers! Within 15 minutes my mom was like, “This is FUN! We need one of these for the boys!” [i.e. the grandkids back home.] Meanwhile as my mom’s playing tennis, my dad’s all, “You’ve got to use your backhand,” etc. I just sat back and watched as he was sucked into the allure of Wii Sports Tennis. Before long he too was a Wii-head. The best part was making their Miis. They looked just like them!
4. In fact, I’m addicted to making Miis. I’ve made Miis of all my co-workers. I’m having trouble with April’s, but everyone elses look just like them. Giggle!
5. I’m taking this ministry course that at first I wanted no part of. It’s about joining people in their pain so you can minister to them. It’s also about recognizing our own junk and learning how to unravel it. Now, I’m no counselor and have no desire to be, so I didn’t want to take this course. But after the first class I was blown away by all I learned and very excited. However, after the second week I’m ambivalent again, though for a different reason: I have junk. I’ve worked very, very hard to avoid that junk. I built a fortress around it, locked it up and hid the key so carefully even I didn’t know where it was. And now, with this course, God is like, “Oh wait … here’s the key! Yeah, I’ve had it all along, by the way. And … we’re tearing down the fortress.” Greaat.
6. We went to see Kung Fu Panda. SEE IT! It’s hilarious! Plus I love Jack Black, so.
7. We went to see the new Indiana Jones. Um … wait for Network TV on that one.
8. We went to see The Incredible Hulk. Um … wait for it to come to the dollar theater.

Anyhoo, I’ll write again soon, promise!

“She Baw-heh”

Okay, this might be a black thing. I don’t know.

But yesterday morning, my husband and were lying in bed making stupid funnies about my “baw-heh,” (or “bald head” in the King’s English).

I made a joke at my husband’s expense (those are always fun), and he retaliated with, “So, you baw-heh.”

I laughed. “Baw-heh? You sound like a little kid on the playground!” Then I became that little black kid on the playground, retaliating from a remark some other kid made with, “So, I don’t care, you baw-heh!’”

We giggled. Derwin came back with, “So, yo’ momma’s bawl-heh!”

We guffawed! I responded in the classic childhood taunt song, “Yo momma’s baw-heh, yo momma’s baw-heh!” (To the tune of “I Got Some Ice-Cream” by Eddie Murphy.)

Now we’re cracking up.

I like acting stupid with my husband.

Un-encouragement

So maybe you didn’t know I’ve been sort of discouraged lately. (Understatement.) More to the point, I’ve been sad, depressed, angry, cynical, resigned, bored, confused and exhausted. I wrote a little about it in another post called “She’s Come Undone.” (That was just the tip of the iceberg.)

Yesterday I had lunch with a friend, and I walked away from it encouraged. Later I wondered why other friends had tried to encourage me, but it wasn’t nearly as effective as a 30-minute lunch conversation. The more I thought about it, the more I recognized some traits. I call these traits “un-encouragement,” because they undermine true efforts to encourage. See if you can relate.

Disclaimer: I’ve been guilty of these same tactics, so I’m not passing judgment! I love and value my friends, and I know their intentions are pure.

UN-ENCOURAGEMENT 1: You’re a Liar

Sometimes when we’re sad or upset or whatever, a loving and well-meaning friend will tell us all the reasons we shouldn’t be. You might say, “I suck as a Christian and as a human being in general.” And your friend might fiercely object. “What?! That’s ridiculous! You are the kindest, most generous person I know!” The result: Now, in addition to feeling as if you suck, you also feel more lonely and misunderstood than ever. After all, you know you suck. You know the ugly, dark thoughts in your heart. When your friend objects, it just shows how your friend doesn’t know you … how no one knows you. It also makes you feel your friend doesn’t believe you. If you honestly share your feelings, and your friend responds by basically calling you a liar … well, you do the math.

UN-ENCOURAGEMENT 2: You’re a Bad Christian

Sometimes when we’re sad or upset or whatever, a loving and well-meaning friend will direct us to scripture. You might say, “I feel like God’s so far away from me right now.” And your friend might respond, “What? That’s ridiculous. Haven’t you read that God will never leave you? Listen, read Deuteronomy 31 tonight. And read the book of John. Yes, the entire book, because God’s love is written all over it.” The result: Now you feel like an even worse Christian than you did five minutes ago. You already know what the Bible says! Reading the scriptures isn’t going to help! … Wait a second … shouldn’t it help? Maybe your faith is too shallow to let the scripture “drop from your head to your heart.” Maybe God really has abandoned you! Et cetera.

These forms of unencouragement cause many people to keep their feelings to themselves. We don’t want pat answers and easy 3-step solutions, because these things are useless and condescending. So we close in on ourselves, and our situations seem increasingly impossible and hopeless. Who knows how that will end?

REAL ENCOURAGEMENT

In my opinion, real encouragement involves listening and sharing. It’s saying to a friend, “I’ve been there.” Or if you haven’t, it’s being honest about it rather than behaving as if you’re dripping with answers. I’ve found that when people are able to honestly relate what they’re feeling (and unencouragement is avoided at all costs), God’s really able to get His foot in the door. (You must also be determined not to have a pity party.) You begin to dialog about your thoughts and experiences, and somehow, amazingly, you begin to remember God’s character–as revealed not only in the Bible, but in your own life. It’s like your soul shakes off its amnesia and you begin to remember how good He is, how kind and loving He’s been. You remember the lessons He taught you before, and you recognize how they’re still applicable to this situation today. You wind up encouraging one another.

It’s also helpful to talk because nine times out of ten (I don’t have any research to back up those statistics) you realize you’re not alone. Your friend has either gone through it before, or is going through it right now. For some reason it helps to know you’re not the only Christian on the planet who has doubted God’s decision to choose you as His own.

I Cut Off All My Hair.

Well, not all of it. Just most of it. Last night, without telling anyone except my family.

I’ve had my hair short before, shorter than this in fact. (Truth is, I wish I’d gone shorter this time.) I enjoyed it so much: I didn’t have to fuss with it; rain or humidity didn’t frighten me. I looked good too–I could carry it off. (Still can.) Last night I loved it! I couldn’t wait to show it off.

But today, as I wait for all my friends to see me for the first time, I’m becoming more and more nervous. I’m actually trembling a little. All the way here I was wondering whether I’d done the right thing. I mean … it’s gone! It’s not like I can take down this style ’cause it doesn’t work!

I wonder why I’m so insecure.

I’ll probably expound on this whole scenario later. Just needed to share with someone.