Posts Tagged ‘Insomnia’

Sleepless in Windsor, The Movie Roundup Edition

Friday, April 6th, 2007

This week has been filled to the brim with fractured sleep schedules and near sleepless nights–last night, in particular was one long stretch of no more that 45 minutes of shut eye. Needless to say, since I cannot effectively work on the laptop at an awkward 90 degree angle with one arm, and I hesitate to open a book for fear that half-digested soy formula will spatter on the pages, movies are my friend and companion in the witching hour.

Ong-Bak (2003)
While light on plot and character development–the head of Buddha is stolen from a small village by big city thugs and the local nice/tough guy heads out to retrieve it–the movie excels in its stunts and fight choreography. The pace of the film is brisk and Tony Jaa demonstrates some incredible athletic and Muay Thai skills . If you like action and martial arts than this film is a must see. Add bonus, it spawned this conversation in the middle of the night:

Management: Why is the TV so loud?
Me: What?
Management: The TV, it’s L-O-U-D! (turns down the volume)
Me: Oh. I had trouble hearing the subtitles.

An Inconvenient Truth (2006)
There has been plenty said about this film and I have little to add except that I found it profoundly sad, moving, and enlightening all at once. See it.

The Night of the Hunter (1955)
Fantastic film. Beautifully shot; one of my favorite scenes is when the children are fleeing down the river the lighting and photography is lush and storybook like with shots peeking through the grass and over the back of a fat frog. The story is an old one of cruel step father after the hidden wealth of the young children yet Laughton and Agee took Grubb’s novel and blended together equal parts Mother Goose and Brothers Grimm while casting it in a dark Faulkner-esque Southern Gothic mold. Very highly recommended.

The Jacket (2005)
The synopsis on Dish did this movie no justice and I was left shaking my head as to why it only received two stars. It is a sad tale that folds Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind into Jacob’s Ladder and The Machinist. Adrien Brody plays an amnesiac Gulf War vet who is wrongfully accused of killing a Vermont state trooper and subsequently committed to a state run psychiatric hospital. Through the course of some incredibly cruel and inhumane “therapy” he finds he is able to step forward fifteen years in time allowing him to influence events in the present. Taut and well acted The Jacket is a must see.

Brazil (1985)
The last time I saw this film was some 20 years ago and my teenage self was amused by the Dadaist take on themes explored by Orwell, Kafka and Dostoevsky. This time around, in light of the last seven years, I felt profoundly sad and disheartened as Brazil is rapidly becoming a reality. Gilliam is at the top of his game, Pryce’s acting is top notch, and De Niro is inspired. See it and laugh through your tears.

Still on queue to watch is Brick along with a pile of movies from the Thirties, so long as my endurance holds up.

They will come deep in the night.

Tuesday, October 10th, 2006

Tangled in the sheets I threw myself out of the bed at the sound of a thud, like a body sailing against the front door rattling the frame and making the lamp on my nightstand shiver. My vision wavered as I swung my head to check the clock which in a spreading halo of red shone 3:05. Running to the hallway I saw our dog standing in the living room looking around while the two cats crouched low against the sofa. Streetlight flooded the room in a sickly yellow glow as inky shadows shifted about my feet. Turning slowly to the back windows I caught a reflection of someone staking outside. My breath caught in my throat as I hunched over and darted to nearest wall, pressing up against it I wished I had something to hold as a weapon.

My thoughts drifted to my grandmother who kept a stout length of hickory, turned like an old fashioned policeman’s club with a leather cord looped through the handle, by her bedside. “Interlopers will regret crossing my threshold,” she would rasp and I imagined her one hand firmly on her walker, the other raising the club with deadly intent, and her face contouring in rage as her white nightdress flowed behind as she shuffled determinedly towards the intruder. I had nothing beyond a rolled up magazine within reach though it would be unlikely that a swift smack from Vegetarian Times would be enough to dissuade a would be thief. Visions of a lanky man, topped by a stringy mullet, and wearing a sleeveless tee shirt adorned with a skull wrapped in the Confederate flag and the words “Southern Pride” printed in simple block letters filled my mind. The room shrank as I saw him, stained and broken teeth, menacing my wife with a dull, small caliber revolver breathing out a cheap whiskey soaked, “I wants what’s mine..”

With as much courage as I could muster I peeled myself from the wall and sprinted into the kitchen hoping to make it to the back door before the skulker reached it. Panic set in as I saw someone at the door and it looked as if the doorknob was turning with moonlight and streetlight glinting over its shiny brass surface. Slipping on the runner near the sink I leapt for the door and for the first time looked my adversary deep in the eyes. Running into the counter I stared hard as the microwave cheerfully lit the up the corner of the kitchen with the time. 3:06. Why was he wearing dark maroon pajama pants with dogs printed allover?

There is such a thing as too much Court TV before bedtime.

Flayed Alive With Feathers

Thursday, September 21st, 2006

Anxiety is a strange beast. There are times when it gnaws on your bones, cracking them to suck the marrow out. Times when it perches on your shoulder, breath hot and moist on your ear, nattering quietly. Today, however, is that time when it has you boxed in, turning you about with quick prods that sets your skin tingling.

Last night, I lay awake running through the classic triptych of worry: time, money, family. Will I have enough time? What if I don’t have enough money? How will my family provide for itself. Uncertainty mixed with anticipation makes for a potent cocktail, one whose effects are slow building but are amplified by my own feedback loops. The back of my eyes ache from this miasma I am creating.

I suspect that when I first hold my daughter it will be as if I rushed headlong into a brick wall attempting to vault it only to find myself sitting hard upon the ground, lights blinking and swimming before my eyes. Humbled, as I realize a greater gravity that binds me to this earth.