Best Song

No question on this one. Someone Like You by Adele.

With lyrics like regrets and mistakes, they are memories made, there is nothing more to be said. The only issue with this song is that they [...]]]> It’s Best of time again, and here are my best of choices from this past year.

Best Song

No question on this one. Someone Like You by Adele.

With lyrics like regrets and mistakes, they are memories made, there is nothing more to be said. The only issue with this song is that they are playing it too much. They did that to Celine Dion’s song for Titanic and I wanted to shoot myself every time it came on the radio.

Chris Martin (the fabulous Gwenyth’s husband), said in a 60 Minutes interview that he is very competitive and strives to do new things always. He said he wished he’d written Someone Like You, and when he heard it for the first time, he stayed up all night trying to write something amazing.

Best Movie

I think I’m going with Win Win this year. Maybe I’m choosing it because no one else has picked it, and I think it’s being overlooked when it should be celebrated.

Opening dialog between mother and child.

“Mommy, where is Daddy?”

“He’s running.”

“From what?”

And, I love the vulnerability of the good and bad in our main character. I have been cheated by someone close, and I think this movie helped me to see that desperate people do desperate things that are not within the realm of who they are inside themselves. Great flick.

Best Quote

I am going to give you a few. The first is not substantial enough to carry the category, but I loved it.

“Rick Perry is a candidate for Republicans who thought that George W. Bush was too cerebral.”

Paul Begala, Democratic strategist, on Rick Perry’s potential entry into the 2012 presidential field.

“Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.” 

The last words of Apple co-founder Steve Jobs were reported by his sister Mona Simpson in her eulogy.

And, last but not least,

“There is nobody in this country who got rich on his own. Nobody. You built a factory out there—good for you! But I want to be clear. You moved your goods to market on the roads the rest of us paid for. You hired workers the rest of us paid to educate. You were safe in your factory because of police forces and fire forces that the rest of us paid for.”

2012 Senate Candidate Elizabeth Warren

Best TV Show

I know, I know. I can hear you now. “Christine, you are showing your shallow side,” but I loved Pan Am. I fear they aren’t renewing it, but I loved it. I loved the strong women bucking systems that we girls (I was under ten years old back then) didn’t even know existed. I love the way they didn’t let the chauvinists enter their own psyche. I loved the glamour. Cuba. Italy. Come on. It was fabulous, and if you didn’t watch it, find it and watch it now.

Best Tweet

I’m so tired of Oprah already. The woman truly thinks she’s God! Today she’s at Barnes & Noble signing copies of the Bible.

Joan Rivers

Best Book

Catherine the Great, by Robert Massie. It’s a tantalizing portrait and I read it well into the night a number of nights in a row to not miss a word. Read it. I wish they would use books like this in history classes instead of teaching history in a war to war series. Note to history teachers.

That’s it for this year’s best of.

Happy New Year Freesia Lane readers. I hope all good things come your way this year.

“You can’t take a job in Texas,” I said firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a lawless country. Didn’t you see The Thin Blue Line?”

The Thin Blue Line, for those of you who [...]]]> I was at lunch with some friends today, and one of them said she had been offered a job in Texas.

“You can’t take a job in Texas,” I said firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a lawless country. Didn’t you see The Thin Blue Line?”

The Thin Blue Line, for those of you who don’t go back as far as 1988, was a documentary film that terrified me and the rest of America. It showed a man wrongly convicted of a murder in Dallas by a seriously corrupt justice system. There is corruption everywhere you go, but it is not as systemic in other places as it is in Dallas. The sheer randomness of the arrest of someone who was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time—and then found himself on death row—made me promise myself that I would stay out of Texas, and that if I did need to go there, I certainly would not be renting a car.

And then there is the pride they take in leading the nation in executions. What is it about Texas that it breeds figures like Judge Sharon Keller? Judge Keller refused to allow a last-minute appeal to be filed by attorneys trying to save the life of a client who was scheduled to die that night because, in her words, “We close at 5:00.” Coincidentally, this was on the same day the Supreme Court decided to hear a landmark case on the constitutionality of lethal injection

We move right along to the beef issue. While I have never considered vegetarianism for more than five minutes (between one breakfast and lunch five years ago), I reserve the right to change my mind if I want to. I’ve heard it’s an unwritten law in Texas that you must order meat with every meal, including beer at the bar. Seriously, I heard that.

In case I haven’t swayed you, let’s look at the cheerleading issue. If you happen to give birth to a girl in Texas, and she happens to be pretty and athletic enough to try out for cheerleading, she runs the risk of being killed by her best friend’s mother, who can’t bear the thought of her little Buffy not making the squad because your Debbie Lou is better than her. So the odds of early teenage death for girls is much higher in Texas than in the rest of the country.

So my friend—who, shockingly, wasn’t swayed by any of the above—decided on her own that she wasn’t moving there.

“It’s the weather,” she said calmly. “It snows in the winter and it’s 110 degrees in the summer. Who wants to live with that kind of weather swing?”

I reminded myself that it didn’t matter why she finally decided not to go. It’s just important that she not go.

Oh, one more thing. Isn’t George Bush from Texas? I’m just saying.

I am in a screenwriter’s group. (Ok, although I’m in this group, I haven’t presented my screenplay yet. But writing it as if I were really ready to accept my Academy Award is [...]]]> I know. I never heard of it either, but not only is fragging a real thing, it’s a really awful thing.

I am in a screenwriter’s group. (Ok, although I’m in this group, I haven’t presented my screenplay yet. But writing it as if I were really ready to accept my Academy Award is tons of fun.) Last night, someone who had been in the military in Afghanistan was presenting his script and talking about how a new officer can come to a combat zone and be in charge of everyone, even though he has never been there before and knows nothing about the lay of the land or the people he is leading. It’s the way the military does it. Just one more reason I think we should approach things like Switzerland does, and not have a military. But we all know no one at the Pentagon cares what I think.

So I have to pipe up. “I don’t understand. Isn’t it dangerous to have someone lead people he doesn’t know in a situation they have been in and he hasn’t?”

One of the group, a man in his fifties, said, “Well, it’s really not a problem because there is always fragging to fix the problem, and officers know that, so they tread carefully.”

“What’s fragging?”

“In Vietnam, if you didn’t like the officer in charge, you made sure a grenade went off near him and the fragments killed him, getting rid of the problem. Fragging is short for fragments.”

“No, that can’t be true!”

“Yes it is true and it’s a good thing.”

Clearly he wasn’t an officer.

So I went home, looked it up, and sure enough, fragging even has a page on Wikipedia. I just thought you should know.

I don’t get it. And frankly, you Washington idiots should have kept me out of the discussion because [...]]]> After all these months, the only thing they can agree on is that they can’t agree, so let’s apply for more credit cards to pay the increasing debt? Such a deal. There is nothing to celebrate.

I don’t get it. And frankly, you Washington idiots should have kept me out of the discussion because we all know that ignorance is bliss. When you all screwed up in the past, you were smart enough to keep us, the unsuspecting, uneducated, naive public, in the dark about what it all meant. Not so this time. Mistake. Big Mistake.

Now, for the first time, I understand how terrible the debt-ceiling breakthrough is, and that it has nothing to do with the glass ceilings I celebrate breaking. I now realize that for the last ten years we as a country have gone back to the bank over and over again telling them that we are sure we can handle the extra credit cards other countries give us to fight wars that are not our battles, to waste money on programs that have solid foundations but are so poorly run they cost much more than they should, and perhaps worst of all, not to equally tax companies and individuals who have American roots.

So I’m furious, and I’m not going to take it anymore. Trouble is, I have no idea exactly how I am not going to take it anymore.

And as for the housekeeper/assistant—you couldn’t resign when you got pregnant? You had to stay in the household for ten more years? You had to provide Maria and the children with memories of yourself as an integral part of their personal lives, and all the while you were the mother [...]]]> Arnold, Arnold, Arnold. Really?

And as for the housekeeper/assistant—you couldn’t resign when you got pregnant? You had to stay in the household for ten more years? You had to provide Maria and the children with memories of yourself as an integral part of their personal lives, and all the while you were the mother to their husband’s/father’s child? Really?

This story is not a new one. In other countries, it’s not a deal-breaker the way it is in the US of A. Since time immemorial men have been fathering children out of wedlock. France’s president was not brought down when he introduced his out-of-wedlock daughter. It made the news, but not the way it would have here. What is different about the European and American points of view on these things?

I was having lunch yesterday with two smart men with whom I consult. One of them is from Central America, and he joked that it’s clearly Maria’s fault for having hired someone who could catch her husband’s eye. If he weren’t joking, he would be the cad that Arnold is, and that would be unacceptable. And then he told an extraordinary story. He said his mother had always said she only wanted to know the children of her daughters, because those were the only grandchildren that she knew to be hers. I asked if she really said that, and he said yes. Extraordinary. He asked me why it was that women who cheat on their husbands never seem to get pregnant, but the women married men sleep with do. I asked him if he felt it to be the man’s responsibility to make sure he is protected, and he said yes, but I think he meant no.

Arnold has always been more of a man’s man than a woman’s man. And he’s been very smart. He’s made a fortune and hasn’t allowed his image to be affected by his womanizing, or worse, by his mistreatment of women. And he never lost anything because of it. Is this where we start talking about taking responsibility? He said yesterday that he takes responsibility for his actions; will someone please explain to me what that actually means? The phrase, “I take responsibility for my actions” is bandied about as if there are always consequences for taking responsibility. Not so much.

He signed a three-movie contract last week, just before this story broke. He could take responsibility by saying he realizes he has no business being an action “hero” to the youth of this country and is pulling out of the deal. Or the studio could help him take responsibility by canceling the contract. Will men go to his movies because they love his Terminator persona as well as to join a secret society, one that is never public, that says a guy really wants to spread his “wealth” around? Go Arnold? If I gave a lie detector test to 100 really decent guys and asked if they thought he was a terrible person, they would answer, “Yes, of course!” Would they be lying? I’m not sure. And please don’t condescend to me by attributing my opinion to my being jaded by my own divorce, because I’m not. And fellow peeps without dicks, please don’t go to his movies anymore. And please don’t let your sons go. And please encourage your guy friends and your family not to go. Let’s retire this ridiculous, ego-driven human being to obscurity—which, as we know from OJ’s history, is a fate worse than being a lying, cheating cad (at least to a lying, cheating cad).

Who is worse, Arnold or the love-child’s mother, Mildred Baena?  Turns out her son is almost 14. Arnold and Maria’s youngest is 13, which means that at one point, Mildred and Maria were both pregnant in the same house together. Cozy. This is the type of thing from which one does not easily recover. When Maria saw the baby, did she know? And Mildred, who are you? Ever heard of sisterhood? Maria is one of the strongest supporters of women in the country, and she spends a good portion of her time on helping women build their self-esteem. Nice payback, girlfriend.

Ok, Christine, what is your point? I have no idea. I have no bloody idea what the point of this is. But one thing I know for sure is that it’s none of my business. Their personal life is none of my business. But I do want to know what the makeup of his DNA is; what made him do it? Is it a total F-you to women? Was it the steroids he must have taken in his youth? Was it a mistake, and Mildred then blackmailed him?

I would also like to say that I never liked him. When I moved to California I often told people that it was hard to live in a state whose Governor was not able to properly pronounce its name. Enough said.

First, the man was the tallest man in the Middle East, tethered to a moving hospital, and it took us ten years to find him. The ‘greatest’ country in the world took ten years to find a man who was hiding in plain sight [...]]]> I get it. Ding dong, the witch is dead. Really?

First, the man was the tallest man in the Middle East, tethered to a moving hospital, and it took us ten years to find him. The ‘greatest’ country in the world took ten years to find a man who was hiding in plain sight in a country that was supposedly our friend in a town where many retired Pakistani military live. In contrast to the image we had of him running in fear, living in caves, worried about snakes and bugs, and trying to get the care he needed, he was right next to a golf course, where for all we know he played on a weekly basis with his retired army buddies from Pakistan. Really?

Then our President goes on TV and acts like this is a great accomplishment, and a time of celebration for our country. It reminded me of a cat we had who did the same thing with a field mouse she caught. She dropped it on the doorstep and acted like we should all stand around and coo at her brilliance. It’s the first time I’ve heard Obama use the word ‘I’ rather than ‘we’ in reference to the accomplishments of the military. Going in the dead of night in two helicopters and shooting men and a woman whom they were using as a shield, and then racing out of there is the stuff movies are made of, not the way decent people are supposed to behave.

Look, I get that he needed to be killed. I get that. Kill him. Then put out a release and say that he has been killed and the body has been put out to sea, and that this is a sad day for some, and a day of reflection for the United States, and perhaps a time of hope that we can all come together, his people and ours, and work as members of a global community to make a better world built on mutual understanding rather than terrorism and retaliation. End of story. This is a time of reflection on how to move forward, not a time of celebration. That is, unless we are a country that celebrates murder and vengeance. The celebrations reminded me of the celebrations in the streets of Paris at the end of WWII. The Parisians had something to celebrate. The war was over. When this war is over, I will celebrate in the streets. Not now.

So, he’s dead. Martyred at our hands and dumped off a warship in the middle of the ocean. Now the big question is to determine how to show proof of death with a body whose left eye is missing. Really? This should do wonders for our image in the community he called his own. The same community that will use our celebration this day to recruit young men to join a cause whose foundation we planted in their oil-rich soil.

Look, we supported Saddam Hussein. He was hung without a blindfold, standing straight and tall, and the video of it shows the ridiculous, Lord of the Flies manner in which the Iraquis carried out his execution. Who won that round? And now we have an eyeless corpse that we apparently must show the world. And we planted him, too. Who really wins this round? Or any of these rounds?

No one is who wins. No one. We are all a community of people. Of Facebook’s 400,000,000+ users, more than half are outside our country. We are now a global community. Let our country lead the way forward with friendship—real friendship—rather than “let me take all your oil for my masses,” which results in hatred, bitterness, and bankruptcy for our nation.

Now we will wait and see what retaliation comes. I’m told that Al-Quaida promised they would retaliate. We have provided our foes with additional ammunition, and I for one, am not dancing in the streets. I have a friend who is as afraid of flying as I am. I talked to her yesterday afternoon before her flight this morning, and she was feeling good, excited to go to New York from LA and get some work done. She canceled her flight last night after a warning from our government that travel should be curbed if possible.

A time of celebration? Not so much. Bin Laden may be dead, but he’s not gone. He will live forever in the hearts of those who would do us harm. But to the Navy Seals and other men and women from the military: job well done. Very, very well done. A grateful nation thanks you.

Miral is a must-see. And for those of you with an aversion to subtitles, there are only a few, so you will be fine. Based on Rula Jebreal‘s novel about her own life, the movie [...]]]> I love a movie that does everything right—dialog, cinematography, acting, plot, redeeming value, relevance—and Miral is just that movie.

Miral is a must-see. And for those of you with an aversion to subtitles, there are only a few, so you will be fine. Based on Rula Jebreal‘s novel about her own life, the movie walks us through the inception of the State of Israel and the ensuing escalation of the Palestinian conflict that followed, all through the eyes of a young girl whose life is shaped by that conflict rather than by her own goals and aspirations.

I have to say something here. If someone’s real life is filled with people dying, torture, and deceit, and the person telling the story is always the victim or always did the right thing in a sea of others who didn’t, one has to wonder. I just don’t believe her when she talks about how she behaved when she was picked up by the army. Sorry. Maybe it’s not that important, but when something doesn’t pass the smell test, you have to acknowledge it. Her story is a self-serving litany of justifications for her decisions, one of which cost someone their life.

A recurring theme in Miral is displacement and the carnage that results from it. Miral and her mother were displaced, and her Palestinian people were displaced. We all learn from this film that displacement kills hope faster than the Israeli flag was designed after they took the land.

There are many dissonant messages in the film that make it one of the best movies of the year thus far. Perhaps the most important of these is the movie’s portrayal of a fabulous girl’s school (which is still standing) that educates young female minds from behind a hedge of denial of events outside its walls. It’s like The Secret Garden, but somehow that’s believable. There can be no hope for peace in the Middle East if oases of normality can’t exist amid seas of insanity.

Some will say the story is all about Miral, but I think her father, Jamal, is an equally important character with much more to teach. Jamal is a forgiving man, but Miral mistakes his forgiveness for weakness and denial. She thinks he’s hiding behind a God that has forsaken them, but he’s not. He is choosing forgiveness and focusing on what he finds important, which is Miral herself. Everyone should have a parent like that. And we should all understand that it’s our choice to forgive or fight, and that one must weigh the consequences of each option before making the choice. Alexander Siddig portrays Jamal perfectly, slowly, without much dialog but with ever so much emotion. Why don’t we see him more?

The story moves quickly and covers a large stretch of time, but you never feel rushed, or that you missed anything. That’s hard to do when your story spans fifty years in two short hours. I never really understood the genesis of Israel, or how it came into being so quickly. It’s like Los Angeles, a city that grew too fast to allow for city planning, and they have been struggling with the consequences ever since. No solutions can be implemented when you take land away from entire people to make room for their arch enemies, just band aids.

I know I’ve said this before about other films, but this is another one of those movies that should be shown in schools, in homes, in the Knesset, and anywhere else where people are sure of their point of view about who is right and wrong in this conflict. I wonder what would happen if it were required viewing for all Palestinians and Israelis.

Julian Schnabel is a wonderful director, so wonderful that no one part of the movie stands out as his. He just wove the tale, brilliantly and sensitively, and a grateful nation or two should thank him. On behalf of mine, thank you. Please go see it. Take someone with you who is sure that Israel is totally right or that Israel is totally wrong, and then go to a coffee shop and talk about it.