I borrowed a friend's DVD to watch this again, and also the extras. I have a connection to the dialogue, having read the screenplay before the first viewing. This second time through, I also watched the extras, and appreciated the choices made in editing. I was impressed with the "screen tests" of Ellen Page, and how she had talent equal to the screenwriter, to take on the character. It's a privilege to watch, and Ellen Page is worthy of the critical acclaim (and fame).

Konigsburg has gotten a little dreamy in her later writing, but I still wish I could listen to her voice, installments at a time, as I age. This one picks up a bit more on history, art, and family history. It picks up edges of characters, and how they relate to each other. It's a pleasure to be drawn in, and to be won over by clever, though flawed, child protagonists. The story takes on a certain timeless quality, and it's a relief not to be inundated with the technological references of the moment, as it could become so much filler. In not filling in all the blanks, she leaves the reader to imagine and to generate additional substance to carry the story.

The women and girl children suffer...but are sustained in some measure by friendship. This was a glimpse of another time, but I recognize some Chinese sensibilities that continue to the present day. I have been thinking about feet and shoes lately, having seen the ballet of Romeo & Juliet this past Sunday. I was quite taken with the concept and process of foot-binding. I was in the neighbourhood this morning so I went to the Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto for the first time, and it was an enlightening way to spend an hour, and to see some shoes from this period when 3 inch feet were the ideal.

I'm reading this for a book club I will be joining! More on this book to come...

When the introductory comment is that a film is 'beautifully shot' you know that it will have a slower pace. It evoked a particular mood. It made me very aware of how short my attention span is in this digital world which is accessed and assessed 15 seconds at a time. It slowly won be over such that when it ended, it seemed quite abrupt. I looked at the names scrolling by on the credits, considering each person's contribution. We walked to and rode the subway home in relative silence.

http://www.tiff08.ca/filmsandschedules/films/beforetomorrow

Spooky, and I am not sure how uplifting the lesson is in the end - accepting the constancy of mundane reality vs. submitting to ill-intentioned (and therefore temporary) good. The 3D aspect was impressive, and I appreciate how it contributed to the story without overtaking it. There is some restraint shown in not showing off the technology at the expense of the content. When we were house-hunting, there was something inherently disquieting about crawl spaces, yet I too sought them out as a child. In many children's books, there is a hidden way to the other world: a garden wall, a wardrobe, a hole cut out in the middle of the playhouse floor, a rabbit hole, a rope swing to the other side, a train platform.

This is filmed in such a way that you are quite aware you are the voyeur. Many times it seemed like the characters were going to fall right out of the screen - they were that intimate with the camera. There was intrusiveness on both sides, of the subject matter on the person watching, and the way the camera work made you feel you were observing privileged interactions. I was taken with the youthful energy of it, and thought the chemistry of the exes was the most natural. I've taken to reading screenplays of films I wouldn't watch again, to pick up information without recommitting to an entire screening.
 
 

After having read this short story, I think it will be interesting to see the film. I suppose the best thing to do in this situation is to write poetry in one's early twenties, with the experience of age and the (doomed) exuberance of youth. Although the character loses as he approaches childhood, the thing to ask is whether we care for our elderly as they become less able to care for themselves.

I don't mind ensemble casts with clever links between characters, but it was difficult to commit to characters when there was so much discontinuity. I need to be won over by suffering and hardship in which love prevails. The characters I did like were those played by Laura Linney (self-sacrificing love) and Andrew Lincoln (doomed love).    

I thought this was a good use of 107 minutes early Saturday morning, as a means to ease into the day. Although it is aggressively non-highbrow, and the luck of these two means I would keep them as Facebook friends of friends at best, they amuse me. The high point for me was the bit of poetry at the end.

It's a smart movie that plays on being predictable. It's called dramatic irony: of course the audience knows things aren't going to get better when the characters think they will, but that's just what makes it more fun to watch. Enjoy!