I’ve discovered that my friend Colleen Bradford Krantz and her colleague, Paul Kakert (who is from my hometown!) have had their documentary film, Train to Nowhere, nominated for a regional Emmy.

I’m so proud of them, but not really for the recognition from the awards people. More than that, I am proud of Colleen and Paul for all the hard work they did to to tell the story of these forgotten immigrants.

I think sometimes it is easy to imagine dead things as just that — things. As if somehow, the moment something dies, all its history and humanity goes with it.

Today, Isaiah asked me:

“Mom when we die, do our bodies explode?”

I said: “No, our bodies decompose. That’s like what happens to the food bits we put in the compost.”

“So, we rot?” he asked, not particularly freaked out.

“Yes, kind of. Our bodies break down and turn to back to dirt, like the food in the compost does,” I said. “But the important part of us, our soul, that’s the REAL us. It isn’t in our bodies. It leaves our body when we die.”

“What happens to that?”

I explained to him that we don’t really know. I gave him the short list of  possibilities: Heaven, reincarnation, and just stopping.

“I choose reincarnation. I’d like to be a bear or something,” he said. “Or a baby again.”

What was inside the railcar was just the explosion of those 11 lives. It was just the thing we see after death.

What was missing was all stories of the human lives that reminded us they were not just things, but people.

The soul is a string of memories, in some ways, a compilation of the thousand kindnesses we do, the funny things we say to our parents when we were 6. Our quirks and our passionate entanglements.

Decomposed immigrant skeletons in a rail car once knew mighty love too.

Colleen and Paul did good work — in the book and the film — reminding us that all the little tragedies that flash by us in the news and in life are their own kind of tragedy … because of the beautiful humanity they hold within them. Millions of stories heaving to be heard.

Each is a story holding all the dreams and heartbeats of someone.

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I’ll be the first to say that I love James Franco. His mute performances on SNL skit “What Up With That?” always tickle me.

But let’s be real. He wasn’t the REAL star of the Oscar duo last night.

There’s going to be all sorts of mumbling and grumbling about the Oscar hosting duo in the news today. The producers want to keep the prestige of the penultimate awards show, but the keep glancing over at all the fun everyone is having at the Golden Globes and think: I want to be the funny guy!

They tried too hard this year, trying to bow to Oscar greats like Kirk Douglas while roping in the youth. Big surprise. The split personality didn’t work.

What did work?

Anne Hathaway.

Although it was hard to tell because of the many flubs and blunders of the producers who were  very busy trying to make everyone — including themselves — the star of the show. (Did you you see one of those producers? That weird little guy that ABC’s anchor Robin Roberts interviewed right before the beginning of the show? Spielberg mopped his brow. That should have been cut.)

Rule of writing: write for your audience. Which I suppose is a tough one, when your audience is, well 1 billion people worldwide.

Except that this audience does have something in common. The audience of the Oscars is people of ALL ages who love Hollywood.

They love the established stars, and they love the glamour, and they love to see the up-and-comers getting their foot in the game.

They loved it when Cuba Gooding Jr went madly insane and won his place in the establishment, they love it when perennial nominee Randy Newman sings — again — and when old standbys like Jeff Bridges make career comebacks.

They love that Justin Timberlake made his move to the screen and that there always seems to be one young ingenue amazing us every year.  In 1999 is was Natalie Portman… look where she is now! We can hardly wait to follow the careers of Jennifer Lawrence and Hallie Steinfeld.

They love Hollywood so much, they sat through YEARS of Debbie Allen’s choreography without a mutiny.

Why is it so hard for the producers to write a beautiful, fun evening with this in mind?

The evening would have worked better if they didn’t try so hard to “appeal” to people, because that never works. Anyone who has every TRIED to impress a girl or boy they like knows just who well that works. (Hollywood should know that too since it’s the plot of several trillion romance and teen films).

It’s the Host, Stupid

The reason Ricky Gervais works, the reason that Billy Crystal worked (and Steve Martin too, though in a different way) and Bob Hope in his time, is they are truly great at what they do. Funny people who took their job — to entertain for the evening– seriously, and who contributed to writing an evening that isn’t about apps and Twitter, but about great showmanship.

Get a performer — young or old — who connects with the audience through humor and a flaying love of film and Hollywood– and you  have your host.

Why were they flying the obviously pre-occupied Yale phD student James Franco across the country when Anne Hathway, clearly, had the job covered?

On stage by herself, she looked comfortable, she ad-libbed with finesse, and she had the beauty and the charm of Gracie Allen. Next to James Franco, the chemistry we expected (of Burns and Allen) was empty and absent.

Anne Hathaway filled the spotlight just fine. Next year, the Academy should do what they should have this year: give her a solo gig and leave the lame iPhone app jokes out. But they probably won’t, which will be their loss.

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Being politically motivated and standing up for my beliefs had an interesting side effect of making it difficult to choose a straw for my iced tea this morning.

At my favorite locally owned coffeehouse, I purchased organic tea in a recyclable cup. Being the artful sort, I paused as I reached toward the cup of colorful straws, deciding which color would best go with the shade of my peach-tea.

I froze.

The aesthetics of my heart wanted the pink straw. But in my mind, visions of Sleeping Beauty Aurora, helpless in eternal slumber, popped up. My brain stopped me.

The pink straw was the correct straw, aesthetically. But apparently my disdain for the prevailing social meaning of PINK was trying to override what the heart wanted.

For a moment, I became on of those crazy mumblers (fully acceptable at locally owned coffeehouses, natch) and heard myself say:

“Well, I just going to take the pink because none of the girls are here to force me to choose it.”

The little girls will do that. They have been force-fed the Disney pink — and all that it implies — since they were big enough to prop up in front of a DVD/TV combo.

The Princess Bride Price

The cost of princess-ifying our girls is heavy. As writer Kristy Quist notes, “It’s an identity based on image alone…Pint-sized princesses are adorable, and at best, this is fun, imaginative play. At its worst, it distorts a natural appetite for beauty and becomes an exercise in narcissism and materialism.”

Millions upon millions of girls worship the beauty, the gowns, the singing voices of the Disney Princesses. The machine that is Disney have created a factory of Dasmels in Distress – some who read, some who perhaps even carry a sword, but all who are, in the end, just pretty, anorexic and waiting to be rescued.

The psychology of that is real. We might as well be saying: what you say doesn’t matter, but the sheen of your hair and the size of your waist does.

Encouraging them to be “princesses” tells them you believe it too, that GIRLS ARE INVISIBLE TO THE WORLD. Girls don’t matter. Girls are objects. Girls expire at 40.

What I want to say is this: If you even look a little bit, you can’t help but be sick, sad, and terrified for the future of girls.

Sigh. All this, for want of a  pink straw to match my peach tea.

“Maybe if I act like that (do like this), that guy will call me back
Porno Paparazzi girl, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that (Oh, Oh-Oh, Do you think?), flipping my blond hair back (Do you think?)
Push up my bra like that, I don’t wanna be a stupid girl (Yeah, yeah)”

– ‘Stupid Girl’ by PINK

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For some reason, people went bananas over Fight Club. I never thought It was all that great. I am open to influence and convincing of course but to me it was exactly what a good film shouldn’t be– a great idea, tied up in a perfect 107 minute bow.

The Sixth Sense and other films of that style fall into the same category … They are too close-ended. Maybe the fulmmakers took the saying “that’s a wrap!” too seriously because these films are too satisfyingly complete to let you feel satisfied I’m the end.

Good stories anywhere should leave you realit wondering.. And even a Tracy/Hepburn film manages that, with it’s so-called love story between the older man and the fiery woman– undoubtedly this isn’t the end if that story.

So the buddha head in my mailbox today is much more interesting to me than Fight Club itself. I like a good question mark dangling un the air and all the bizarre reasons for how it got there.

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…And Other Highlights of Oscars 2009

The reviews of those “dastardly-long” and “always self-serving” Academy Awards shows are here, and as usual the preeminently cranky Alessandra Stanley from the New York Times managed to pass on the her “kind of fun” review.

Sigh… I continue to wonder why someone with no joie de vivre is allowed to be the TV critic? I mean, if you don’t have a sense of humor, how in the HECKFIRE are you going to review Redneck Weddings?

But I digress… The one point that Stanley and I did agree on was the success of Hugh Jackman as frontman for the evening. I always thought his sideburns on X-Men were a little overdone and as a result, I’ve never gotten to like him much. But man can that guy humiliate himself with song and dance, in the name of good fun– and THAT is something I can relate to! Kudos to Anne Hathaway for helping out!

Other Moments Good and Ugly

LOVED – Ben Stiller, again. In 2006, I loved him in a green suit... this year it was the perfect take on Joaquin Phoenix on Letterman that did me in.

HATED – The Twilight zombies, whoever the hell they are. I mean, I know that book is famous, and they are now big stars as a result. But SORRY… there should be a Personality Meter when you get up on that stage… you know sort of like when you are at the carnival and test your strength with the big hammer.

LOVED – Kate Winslet, who is the most radiant and talented performers I know and would have more awards if there weren’t so much really great competition.

LOVED – Steve and Tina – especially the improv moment when Steve implores Tina not to fall in love with him.

Ehhh – the Song and Dance number honoring musicals. Beyonce was great, but sometimes I wonder if producers are just looking for a reason to ask her to perform. Queen Latifah is Hollywood… Beyonce is still Grammy-land. Also, again on the Personality Meter with the HSM kids.

LOVED – A.R. Rahman winning Best Score, followed by the adorable A.R. Rahman singing “O Saya”…  Maybe it was the succinct and sweet acceptance speech, or maybe it’s the long black coat, but HELLO new crush!

Ehhh – The old winners saluting the nominees. I liked remembering the great winners of the past, but I think hauling their old asses out on stage slowed the production down, especially the first award.

LOVED – Seth Rogan and James Franco, sorta stoned and watching James Franco and Harvey Milk make out. Tee hee…

HATED – that even though Meryl Streep is the most nominated PERSON of all Academy Award history (with 15), the Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress categories are still treated as secondary categories, with more interest in the dresses, their catfights (Angelina vs. Jen continues??!!), and how well they are aging, than whether they are great performers.

LOVED MOST OF ALL – the fabulous attendees at the best Oscar party around!

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Well, it is that time of year again. The Nominations are out and I have, as of this moment, 23 days to get two big things done.

1. Come up with a quirky theme/invite for the annual Oscar party.

2.  See about 9,000 films in an effort to, this year, FINALLY, win my own ballot contest.

I have a few ideas for a theme that I am tossing around but I haven’t settled on anything I am in love with yet.

Nothing as inspired as last year’s “There Will Be Old Men,” a hilariously witty theme that lent itself to all sorts of great food options (such as pre-chewed meat, jello shots, and Old Fashioneds). But sadly it was mostly lost on my wonderful but somewhat ignorant new crop of friends who weren’t so hip to the importance of theme in any excellent Oscar Night.

This year I am SURE will be different, however! Colin and I have been actively “recruiting” quality fun people in our lives, and I have been secretly measuring them based on their ability to vivaciously participate in theme party festivities. The rubric is complex but suffice to say it involves a metric measuring tape, a hat with plume, and cue cards written in pig-Latin.

But seriously folks. I am not sure how I am going to come up with a good theme that combines the gravitas of Frost/Nixon, the, well, political gayness of Milk, the backwardly hotness of Benjamin Button, the Nazi-ness of The Reader and the Bollywood-gameshow-dramaness of Slumdog Millionaire, but I am sure I will think of something.

I will say that there is nothing as glorious as Oscar night with a 52 inch TV. Thanks Colin!

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My husband, maybe to mock my attachment to my typewriter, or maybe just to give me the good news, sent me this article, today. It breaks the much-awaited news (at least around our place) that two of the greatest entertainment inventions: TiVo and Netflix, are going to join forces.

This is akin to the Wonder Twins putting their rings together, proclaiming “Form of Digitial Video Recorder” and “Shape of Video on Demand” and it becoming so.

Now, if you have followed my blog, you know I am definitely at odds with the spread of technology. Am I against it, however? No, of course not. I love it and I use it constantly, as most people do today. However, as it becomes smarter, it must, I believe, become a force for good and not evil.

The Wii, for example, is a force for good. Is it still a video game that keeps kids inside, away from nature? Yes. BUT it gets them up, moving, interacting with technology, with instruments, jumping around. And, by the way, it is still the parents’ job to place limits on children’s interaction with technology (even the Wii) in the first place, to ensure they have a balanced experience, that they can still identify leaves, and not just a leaf in general. Lazy parents reap what they sow.

SO, to tell you WHY I think the marriage of TiVO and Netflix will be wedded bliss, here are the reasons:

1) Limited commercial access – Sure films have their fair share of commercials/previews edited into them, but with the wonder of TiVo, we can fast forward through the bits we don’t want to watch, thus reducing ours (and our kids’) exposure to advertising. Colin and I “don’t watch commercials.” I like to say it as a sort of snobby (you say elitist?) proclomation whenever we have guests, but it is true. We watch almost exclusively recorded shows, and as a result, we don’t watch commercials. When we do watch live TV, we usually pause it for 10-15 minutes and chat, so that we have enough buffer to fast forward through.

2) Immediate access to queue – Right now, Colin and I have to edit our Netflix queue online, then wait a few days for the new film to show up in the mail. OK, a few days is no big deal, but when you can cut that out with direct downloads, the experience of choice will be immediately integrated into our TiVo Playlist. I expect Netflix will see a boost in customers as a result.

3) Direct Download is greener. - Less paper for mailings, less plastics for DVDs equals less production of disposable waste.

4) Better quality and more choice. – Who doesn’t watch crap on TV because there seems to be nothing else available? Another episode of Friends… Or Wheel of Fortune? Colin and I have been gagging to a gaggle of well-written HBO, Showtime and other network series that we could not get while we were subtracted from TiVo overseas, including “The Flight of the Conchords,” “Extras”  and “Lovespring International.” Netflix provides these, en masse.

I know there are those people who say “No” to TV. Sometimes I am one of them. But TV, like any technology, can be a force for good or evil. It is an opportunity to relax, to create conversation, and a place to exhibit an art form. And with these superheroes TiVo and Netflix joining forces, I think they make TV the best it can be, and provide us with ways to spend our time with TV in a limited way, without all the cacophony of Tony the Tiger and Monster truck ads to distract us

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Every year the Academy changes up the Oscars to try and make better, faster, stronger. It’s the Six Million Dollar Man of television really.

Usually one of those tactics is to just drown out the nobodies when they are giving their speeches so that they are forced to stop thanking their dog and leave the stage.

This year, thanks to the writer’s strike, they didn’t have to do much of that… apparently thank you speeches are also written by Hollywood writers, and not many of them got time to work on them because the speeches were short and sweet.

The exception was Best Song co-winner Marketa Irglova who was completely drowned out after her partner finished his speech. The ever-fair and balanced host Jon Stewart, in the moment of the evening, brought Irglova back to the stage after the commercial and let her give her speech, which was inspiring and eloquent. The Best Song winners (and stars of the captivating busker-love film Once captured a real moment of truth and creativity in an otherwise bland Oscar evening.

The shock of the evening went to glorious Best Supporting Actress winner Tilda Swinton who certainly earned the award, but was up against Cate Blanchett’s disappearing act as Bob Dylan in I’m Not There, Amy Ryan’s acclaimed turn in Gone Baby Gone and the short-but-sweet goodness of Ruby Dee in American Gangster. Neither Swinton nor Saoirse Ronan were considered front runners, and it showed when Swinton’s name was called.

Other non-highlights:
In a bafflingly misogynistic move, Best Actress Award was buried in the middle of the show, even though it was, along with the Best Supporting Actress award, the most hotly contested awards of the evening. Additionally, Jessica Alba was paraded out on stage in her bumped-out-cuteness to tell everyone about the Science and Technical awards that she hosted on another night. I hope next year they ask the equally pregnant Julian Schnabel to host those.

For Best Actress, Marion Cotillard took the statue home in her performance as singer Edith Piaf, but was in a dead heat with the slim favorite Julie Christie, and with Juno‘s beloved Ellen Page a distinct possibility and the long-overlooked Laura Linney definitely in the running for The Savages.

Note: We were kept on pins and needles for the “surprise” second win for Daniel Day-Lewis as Best Actor at the end, for this? Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but Oscar should really consider what would make a better show — if they are bent on reordering the awards, why not be willing to move the Best Actress nearer the end, when that award is more of a surprise than the Best Actor Shoo-in?

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