W.

Meh.

It's an Oliver Stone film.

Before going to see it I had assumed that all the good press for this film was due to widespread surprise that Stone didn't string ol' Georgie up by his nut sack and piss on him. All the interviews I saw with Mr. Stone were marked by words like "even handed" and "fair" regarding the film's portrayal of our current President. Admittedly, if I hadn't expected such an "even handed", nay even sympathetic, picture- I might have been more pleasantly surprised by my matinee viewing.

But I wasn't.

Indeed, W. is a sympathetic portrait of a man in over his head. However, Stone's film carries all the hallmarks of a muck raker's restraint as he struggles to make a monster into a man. W. is rife with pity and cheap, armchair psychology. There is little insight in the script beyond a high schooler's interpretation of a Wikipedia page on Oedipal complex. We all know W. was the wayward Bush and it is not difficult to imagine how hard it must be to live in a powerful man's shadow. I didn't need 2 hours and 11 minutes to be told what I already understand.

Josh Brolin does give a fine performance and the supporting cast was quite good at what they were asked to do. Clearly, they were asked to walk and talk like the people we see on the news everyday. They did just that, but no more was asked of them. The cast, as a whole, was uncanny in their likeness to the real-life characters. Excellent speech and physical work was done by all- but there was no room in the script for them to be anything other than props to enliven the reality of the title character's experience. There was no examination of their motivations or relationships with one another or with W himself. With one notable exception. Ellen Burstyn was somewhat out of place in her few scenes because it seemed she was trying to squeeze a little bit more out of the script and character than her cohorts. In fact, her physicality was defiantly unBarbara Bush, but her emotional choices were quite clear.

I have to say, I was shocked to find myself uncomfortable with the scenes depicting George and Laura as a normal couple who occasionally find themselves having important discussions in their underwear. One particular scene features W chatting with Laura on the toilet. I think the intent was to humanize W even more, but as an issue of taste I feel it was gratuitous and somewhat disrespectful. I am no fan of this President or his administration but I have no desire to watch our President take a dump.

Bio-pics are always a bit dicey. When one decides to fictionalize a real person's life they are apt to play fast and loose with history to achieve dramatic ends. As one who values truth and history, I have to say that I see this as a dangerous practice. There is a scene where Richard Dreyfus's Cheney gives a speech about controlling oil so "...no one will fuck with us again...". This scene was placed there for expediency- to clue us in to the filmmaker's view of the administration and not necessarily the historical character's view. I fear all too few viewers will make that distinction and Stone's widely and easily consumed version of history will become fact. In my humble opinion, that is a disservice to history and truth.

But, it's an Oliver Stone film.

Meh.

The Struggles of Year Number 1

There is definitely a reason why I waited for nearly 7 years to have another kid.

I am an incredibly selfish person. I like having a few minutes to myself. I like being able to day dream- to be in my own little world staring into the reflecting pool of my soul and contemplating my place in the universe. I like to watch movies with swearing. I don't particularly care for mundane tasks. I do not romanticize motherhood- even though I adore my children and delight in their progress as human beings. But, I miss participating in my art. It makes me cranky and decidedly "unfun" to be torn away from my creative outlets.

When my eldest was a toddler, I had a conversation with another mother in the park who was complaining about her husband. He had come home from work and then made some snotty comment to the effect of "Gee, I wish I could spend all day in the park hanging out with my friends, drinking coffee and playing with my kids...". Her response? "Yeah, it's great. It's only sucking the soul right out of my body."

I'll let that comment stand.

It is the most bizarre and complicated ball of emotions. On one hand there is pride, love, joy, excitement and all the warm fuzzies a person could want. On the other, there is resentment, frustration, isolation, sadness, and guilt. A lot of guilt. These are the things I warn my girlfriends about as I watch them consider single parenthood as an option. (SAVE YOURSELVES! DON'T DO IT! Life with a partner to share the workload is hard enough!) Perhaps if I had taken more time to work on my career before I had kids, maybe then I would be able to afford some help so that I could go out and pursue my art. Maybe that is the cause of the negativity. Regardless, I am in the situation I am in and I just need to be more creative. I can do that, but the first year of life is so tiring and I also have to be realistic about my limitations.

It's not all bad. It really isn't. I just happen to get exhausted after having had to lug 14 pounds of human being everywhere for 24 hours straight (and I do mean everywhere!) and not having a minute to collect myself. On top of that physical drain is the emotional battle with a 7 year old who wishes he was a baby again. He weighs a lot more than 14 pounds! A person can only be loving and understanding for so long without reciprocity! After that, you just need to hide in the bathroom for 20 minutes.

Or vent on a blog.

God, that's embarrassing.