Sara Freeman

An Oscar Win for International Women’s Day

admin — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 05:01:00 +0000

The Oscars have been over for five minutes. My cheeks are flushed, there are tears in my eyes, and my stomach is doing flips. It has finally happened!

A woman has won the Academy Award for Best Direction and Best Picture. The winner is not just any woman, but Kathryn Bigelow, the amazing genre filmmaker and director of The Hurt Locker. Three other women have been nominated previously: Lina Wertmüller for Seven Beauties, Jane Campion for The Piano, and Sofia Coppola for Lost in Translation. This is a monumental achievement and a dream come true for any feminist film buff, a dream I honestly thought would never happen.

I’m going to have to let it sink in a little bit before I can fully articulate the impact I think this will have on filmmaking, but everything has changed, and is still changing, definitely for the better. Bigelow's double win (though the film itself took home six awards) deserves a double congratulations both for her hard work, perseverance, and excellent filmmaking, as well as for helping change the face of filmmakers forever. When people stupidly say “There aren’t any good female directors,” we can now point to this moment as solid proof they are wrong.

I wish I could be as happy for Sandra Bullock and Mo’Nique as I am for Bigelow, but I can’t. Despite Sandra’s excellent speech, I’ve never liked her as an actress because she constantly plays characters who revel in personal humiliation. Her rom-com’s are the worst of the worst of female portrayals. Knowing Hollywood, she won because she was the highest grossing performer of last year, and acting had nothing to do with it. In fact, she wasn’t even on the awards radar until the profits of The Blind Side were announced.

That being said, it’s hard for me to be truly disappointed by her win. She beat out every dick, dick, and dick in 2009 at the box office. That’s another first for last year's films, and an especially nice success for an actress over the age of forty! Here’s to hoping Bullock's Oscar will open up some doors for the actress, and that she will be more inclined to accept roles in better female-driven films. (Also, I give Bullock kudos for her Razzie acceptance speech for Worst Actress in All About Steve. I think it was really tasteful.)

Mo’Nique gave the best performance imaginable in an exploitation film. I don’t think Precious is a good movie and find its manipulative, over-dramatized sensibilities more offensive than torture porn. With torture porn, you at least have the courtesy of knowing exactly what you’re getting into. Precious' earnest intentions come off as over-stylized drama-rama, and Mo’Nique’s character in the film actually sums up the worst aspects of that movie. But, again, her win actually means more than meets the eye, as she joins the few African Americans who have won Academy Awards.

Aside from Bigelow winning Best Director, there weren’t any major surprises at the ceremony this year. The problem with the awards season, in general, is that most of the excitement over films has diminished by Oscar time because every award is virtually set in stone. I adored the speeches given by Jeff Bridges (Crazy Heart), Michael Giacchino (Up), and Mark Boal (The Hurt Locker), and I enjoyed the special speeches for each leading actor/actress nominee. Kristen Stewart and Sean Penn boarded the fail boat with their presentations, and at times, Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin were painful to watch, but what can you do?

The memorial gets to me every year because it always has a handful of my favorite classic actors, actresses, and filmmakers. In 2009, we lost Jennifer Jones, Jean Simmons, Betsy Blair, Karl Malden, Jack Cardiff, Eric Rohmer, Natasha Richardson, Kathryn Grayson, David Carradine, and so many more. I loved the odd tribute to horror films, which included bona fide classics like The Shining, Rosemary’s Baby, and Psycho, as well as some odd balls like Texas Chainsaw Massacre 4 and Leprechaun. The John Hughes tribute was just weird.

The biggest disappointment of the evening fell to their lifetime achievement awards. Lauren Bacall, Roger Corman, and Gordon Willis all received the honor this year, but they failed to honor them properly by not airing their acceptances during the actual ceremony. If we had ten or fifteen minutes to honor John Hughes, surely we had enough time to honor the amazing work ethic, careers, and talent of Bacall, Corman, and Willis. Boo, Academy, boo.

All in all, though, I had a great time watching the Oscars this year and am still buzzing with happiness over Bigelow’s win. I know change doesn’t happen overnight, but I have a feeling I’m going to wake up tomorrow with a sense of feminist progress in the world. I’d like to thank the Academy for making it possible. Happy International Women’s Day!

Written by: Sara Freeman, March 8th 2010

Rage

admin — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 01:00:00 +0000

Directed by Sally Potter

Adventure Pictures

My partner, Jake Barningham, is an avant garde film and video maker. He’s constantly on the prowl for new ways to express himself visually. Most recently it has been creating videos with his cell phone camera. I really like the idea of using something so accessible and widely used like a cell phone to create art. Aside from its artistic possibilities, the cost effective nature of using a camera phone makes it possible for everyone to make movies without relying on the bloated corporate Hollywood production structure.

However, the flip side of that coin is one that I have very mixed feelings about: actually watching movies on your cell phone, iPod, or generic electronic apparatus. In the age of the digital copy and rising movie theater ticket prices, more and more people are opting to watch movies on inferior viewing devices to save time and money. In my opinion, movies are divine entities that deserve as much respect as humanly possible. Cinema is prayer. So, watching a movie on a cell phone or iPod that’s compressed, pixelated, and choppy just doesn’t work for me.

Enter Sally Potter. The British feminist filmmaker of such films as Orlando and Yes recently made the first movie that’s actually designed to be watched on your cell phone. The film in question, Rage, is an incredibly intimate exploration of some of the minds behind the fashion industry. Using fourteen different actors, including Lily Cole, Eddie Izzard, Steve Buscemi, Judi Dench, Adriana Barraza, Jude Law, and several others, Potter, in the guise of a silent, unseen student blogger named Michelangelo, films their diverse characters one on one with a cell phone and nothing but a moody, ever-changing colored screen behind them. By using what Potter calls “barefoot filmmaking,” she strips all of these larger than life personalities down to their naked emotions and exposes their vulnerabilities. Rage, like many great movies have done in the past, has turned my preconceived notions of cinema on their head.

At the beginning of fashion week, a famous model accidentally pulls an Isadora Duncan and dies on the runway. This sends the cast of characters into a tailspin of emotions and the atmosphere grows even more intense and hazy when another model is shot and killed on the catwalk. Unable to speak about their feelings with the people around them, the central fourteen characters, which includes Law as a beautiful transsexual model, Buscemi as the neorealism-hungry fashion photographer, and a bunch of corporate bigwigs and marketing executives, begin using Michelangelo’s filmic environment as if it were a confessional. Tears flow, anger swells, and light bulbs flash as ideas spring to life in front of Michelangelo’s camera.

At a solid one hundred minutes, Rage’s several one-sided conversations are genuinely captivating and engrossing. Ranging from deeply personal melodrama to exploring an immigrant worker’s role in the fashion world, the constantly shifting political agendas are bewildering and even exciting. Though I haven’t had the pleasure of watching the movie on my cell phone yet, viewing it on DVD with my home theater system granted me one of my best movie watching experiences in quite sometime. Potter, who took out a second mortgage on her home to pay for the movie, has quite possibly revolutionized the cinema industry with a single film. If Rage does well in the long run, who knows how long it will be before cell phone movies become the norm? The Hollywood industry is all but terrified of incorporating more digital cinema into their structure, so it’s anyone’s guess as to how they’ll react to something so simple and cheap becoming so accessible.

In any case, I highly suggest you check out Rage and support Sally Potter’s maverick feminist filmmaking in any way you can. It was one of the best films of 2009, and I guarantee you’ve never seen anything quite like it before.

Written by: Sara Freeman, February 19th 2010

Bright Star

admin — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:24:00 +0000

Directed by Jane Campion

Apparition

When John Keats wrote "Bright Star, Would I Were Stedfast" for his beloved Fanny Brawne, he was a penniless wordsmith with a knack—but not a hankering—for stirring up controversy. Though history now regards him as one of the finest poets, Keats wasn’t popularly praised during his twenty-five year lifetime. In the era of Jane Austen and Washington Irving, Keats’ ethereal verses and passionate prose didn’t provide the right flavor of the week—or in his case, decade—to win over audiences. But what Keats lacked in literary respect was more than made up for in the ardor of his torrid relationship with Fanny Brawne, one of the most dazzling love stories to ever exist.

Bright Star, Jane Campion’s newest film, chronicles the Romance (with a capital "R") between Keats and Brawne from its budding first impressions until its final consumptive breath. Playing the doomed young lovers, Australian Abbie Cornish (Candy, Stop-Loss) and period-piece laden Ben Whishaw (I’m Not There, Perfume: Story of a Murderer) embody the very essence of cinematic enchantment, and their performances will leave you breathless. Like Bogart and Bacall, Cornish and Whishaw display a voracious onscreen fervor for each other. Throughout the film, their delicate moments together, though entirely chaste, are breathtakingly sensual, harmonious, and truly aching. Unlike contemporary romances where the two leads engage in a mandatory sex scene that shows all and absolutely nothing at the same time, Cornish and Whishaw’s light petting, caresses, and whispered sweet nothings envelop the senses. There is a burning desire felt between them that is sincere and bewildering.

The Academy Award winning Campion has created some of the best female driven films of the last twenty-five years: An Angel at my Table, The Piano, and In the Cut. She is no stranger to the portrayal of doomed romance, and though usually a bit more carnal, Bright Star fits snugly in with the rest of her feminist-minded filmography. Her lady leads are often introverted, intelligent women with a quiet dignity and passion for artistic expression. Told strictly from Fanny’s perspective, Bright Star differs in that Fanny is more flamboyant than any other Campion creation by possessing an outspoken, flashy nature that she’s incredibly proud of. In a sea of endless, bland corsets and cotillions, Fanny expresses herself through fashion. She designs and sews all of her own garments, and as her love grows for Keats, Fanny’s wardrobe becomes more beautiful and glamorous. To show their mutual respect for one another, Campion composes many shots in which Keats and Fanny work on their own artistic mediums side by side.

Set in the English countryside, Bright Star is Campion’s most gorgeous film to date. Often juxtaposing femininity with nature, Campion shoots everything on location with an astute sense of how the surroundings relate to her central character. In Bright Star, countless flowers and butterflies, as well as vivid foliage set the stage for this tragic love affair. The happiest occasions take place outdoors with compositions intended to sweep the viewers' emotions with a series of cinematic ellipses.

Indoors, however, is a different story. After Fanny and Keats begin their infatuation, Fanny's circumstances dictate that she and her poor family move into one half of the house Keats is charitably living in. The house is owned by his good friend Charles Armitage Brown (the terrific Paul Schneider), a sarcastic curmudgeon who disapproves of Keats’ relationship with Fanny. He believes it takes away from Keats' poetry, not realizing Fanny is its inspiration. Brown abuses his ownership of the lodging by trying to force the young lovers apart.

Though the premise of Bright Star is familiar, its flawless execution is a breath of fresh air. It doesn’t take pride in being a period piece, like Pride and Prejudice or Atonement; instead, Bright Star simply and organically exists in that time. As a Campion fan (in case you hadn’t guessed), I had been looking forward to this film for six long years, and none of her other creations shook me as heartily as this. As I left the theatre, I could hardly breathe from the overwhelming emotion that invaded my soul in a way I've scarcely felt before. I can’t stop thinking about it and feeling the tremors it bestowed. Don’t forget the Kleenex.

Written by: Sara Freeman, October 1st 2009

Starstruck

admin — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:23:00 +0000

Interview with Jane Campion

Over the past twenty years, director Jane Campion has created some of the most thrilling depictions of femininity on screen. From the Academy Award-winning The Piano to the dirty yet pretty _In the Cut_, Campion's sensually earthy films depict worlds seen through the eyes of women. The typical stargazing Campion femme is strong and deeply confident about the power of her creative mind.

When I was nine years old, Holly Hunter’s Ada McGrath was different from any other female character I’d seen. Though mute, Ada uses her passion for music to communicate her inner most feelings and desires. That performance profoundly effected my views of womanhood and since then I’ve followed Campion’s career closely. After seeing Bright Star, which is based on the love affair between the poet John Keats and his neighbor Fanny Brawne, I jumped for joy when the opportunity to talk with Campion about the film, her career, and a special feminist moment she experienced recently.

What attracted you to the relationship between John Keats and Fanny Brawne enough to make a film about it?

The love letters that existed and the impact their story had on me emotionally. It’s very moving, especially considering the restriction for young women during Brawne's time.

How do you feel about Fanny and the other heroines in your films?

I love them all. I see the world through women’s eyes. I wasn’t trying to make Fanny into a heroine. I just think she’s a young woman who was unusually strong.

You go to great lengths to make the relationship feel loving on both sides, though some people think Fanny was just with him for the fame. Why do you think Fanny kept Keats’ letters?

That’s the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard! Keats died completely unknown. The idea that she kept the letters because he might be famous is absurd. He had on his headstone: "Here lies one whose name was writ in water." Fanny totally loved the man. She never talked about their relationship. She felt that their love affair was misunderstood. She thought he was misunderstood, and that was painful for him. She kept the letters because she loved him. Her children selling the letters was not her doing.

And probably not very fair to her.

Well, I don’t know. I don’t believe identities hold once we’re gone. What they did on this earth belongs to all of us. We’re just human beings and it would be very sad to me if letters and other belongings didn’t exist. If they didn’t, we would never have known about this story. They were terribly private together, but that’s what makes it so interesting.

I saw the film about three weeks ago, and I just can’t stop thinking about it. It’s in my stomach, and I can’t get it over the feeling it left in me.

It’s a very visceral, tender experience. It’s just what Keats would have loved!

What are your thoughts about female filmmakers today?

One of the most beautiful moments for me on this tour was in New York. When at the premiere Sofia Coppola, Zoe Cassavetes, Mira Nair, and Julie Taymor all came up to me together, and I just went “Ooh, girls!”

That’s quite a crew!

Yes, it’s a fantastic crew! People often say that women don’t support each other and here was an example and feeling of extreme support.

What do you want audiences to walk away with after seeing Bright Star?

The right point of view! (Laughs.) I love the story. I’m very pleased I could do it some justice and that people are enjoying it too.

Written by: Sara Freeman, October 1st 2009

Boy Interrupted

admin — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 17:59:00 +0000

Directed by Dana Perry

HBO Documentary Films

When I was fifteen years old, I tried to commit suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills. I had been taking an experimental prescription acne medication called Accutane, which caused my hormonal ups and downs to feel a thousand times more severe than they really were. In May of 2001, I downed thirty-two pills in my school's bathroom and, following medical treatment, was sent to a juvenile mental institution for a short period of time. Miraculously, the cloudiness I felt in every aspect of my life was eliminated once I realized I had hit rock bottom. I’ll never forget the experience of riding in the back of the ambulance, looking through the window, and for some ungodly reason, feeling okay for the first time in nearly a year. I laughed and cried happy tears as they put the IV needle into my arm and spoon fed me charcoal. The numbness went away and I wanted to live.

That was eight years ago and, thankfully, I’ve never felt that desperate since. But that doesn’t mean suicide hasn’t entered my mind on occasion. I don’t know if this is true for everyone, but once you’ve tried to end your own life, the idea of death isn’t as scary as it once was. It’s kind of like having an extra piece of weaponry at your disposal.

Evan Perry, the subject of Boy Interrupted, seems to have felt similarly. When he was also fifteen years old, Evan committed suicide by jumping from his bedroom in New York City. From a very early age, Evan was practically entranced by the idea of death and taking his own life. He was put on Prozac when he was five and spent a great deal of his young life in a psychologist’s office. Evan attempted suicide for the first time when he was in elementary school.

This gripping documentary was created by Evan’s parents, Dana and Hart Perry, who are professional filmmakers. They painstakingly trace their son’s demons from the point of his birth until the end of his life in 2005. The film has been well-received thus far and has garnered several awards and nominations, including one for best documentary at this year’s Sundance film festival. It premieres tomorrow, August 3rd at 9 p.m. EST on HBO.

When I first read about Boy Interrupted, I was worried the film would be either incredibly exploitive or apologetic. I wondered if Evan's parents were creating the documentary in order to settle accusations or suspicions, or as an attempt to paint themselves in a good light in a Lifetime-esque retelling. Thankfully, neither are the case.

Boy Interrupted plays as a bittersweet rendition and tribute to a person whose magnetic charm affected everyone around him. Evan was a talented, smart, and loved person during his lifetime, but his bi-polar disorder and various medications haunted him like he wanted to haunt life. His family, friends, therapists, doctors, and teachers all lend their hearts and honesty to this documentary by appearing on screen and talking about Evan. Through these interviews, as well as an abundance of home movie footage and photographs, we not only get to know Evan and his family, but we’re also asked to ponder the role of children in our society.

My favorite aspect of the documentary dealt primarily with Evan as a youngster. It seems as though Evan was born with the knowledge of his demise and, through all of the highs and lows, couldn’t veer from that path. We live in an era where child victimization is the norm. We like to think of kids as weak, whimpering little nymphs who are always in desperate need of saving. Boy Interrupted’s greatest strength, especially because it was created by his parents, is that it looks at Evan as a person, not a victim of circumstance, and looks at his demons straight in the eye. Certain people seem as though they are destined to lead lives of destruction. Of course the environment we grow up in influences that, but we’re also preordained with different personality traits and desires, no matter what happens to you when you leave the womb.

While watching the documentary, I often had tears streaming down my face because it brought back so many of the feelings I felt when I was in that suicidal state of mind. Evan may not be here anymore, but his parents have honored his memory in what I consider the best way possible. He may be gone, but this documentary will live on forever. I don’t know what would have happened to Evan if he had lived following his fatal attempt, but I can only vainly hope that he would have experienced the same moment of clarity I felt if he had.

If you or someone you know is considering suicide, please ask for help.

Written by: Sara Freeman, August 2nd 2009

White on Rice

admin — Wed, 27 May 2009 09:09:00 +0000

Directed by Dave Boyle

Brainwave Film Group

I have something to admit upfront: comedies really aren’t my bag. I have a strange sense of humor that only seems to come alive with the zaniest of screwball antics and irreverent, satirical banter. Dick and fart jokes, stand-up, and most slices of modern romcom leave me yawning. Unfortunately, while White on Rice has more in common with the first two aspects I mentioned, my viewing experience ended up pointing me in the direction of Yawnsville instead of Giggle City.

In White on Rice, the central protagonist is Jimmy (Hiroshi Watanabe), a naïve man-child who recently immigrated from Japan to the U.S. to live with (and mooch off of) his kind sister (Nae), workaholic brother-in-law (Mio Takada), and their talented son (Justin Kwong). Following a divorce from his wife, Jimmy basically resorts to being a child again and unconsciously tries to situate himself into that place in the familial sphere while simultaneously searching for love. He is incapable of making adult decisions and proceeds to annoy the bejeezus out of everyone around him because of his lack of tact, grace, and maturity. What ensues is basically the “wacky neighbor” syndrome utilized by a lot of television sitcoms—where an eccentric newcomer enters the picture and acts as the comedic relief or simply “the” comedy for the older, less interesting characters surrounding him/her.

While sometimes that form of entertainment can be charming or welcoming (like bulking up on Spike in season four of Buffy the Vampire Slayer), I found the character of Jimmy to be just as insanely annoying and frustrating as his family does in the film. He’s not witty, funny, or charismatic in the least and the climax of his so-called character arc is far too good a fate for someone so slapdash and negligent. Judd Apatow comedies possess more rewarding male characters. Nonetheless, when the film focuses on his family and their own problems, I felt compelled to keep watching because their trio of hardships feel genuine and honest. Their subtle sincerity almost makes up for the lack of growth in Jimmy’s character, though not quite.

Last month, I saw a similarly toned film called Tokyo Sonata by Japanese filmmaker, Kyroshi Kurosawa. Though it pains me to recommend a critically-acclaimed film over an independent endeavor, I must make that suggestion with this review because the Ozu-inspired Tokyo Sonata, while not as intentionally funny as White on Rice, serves as an earnest family drama that also takes a stand on the state of masculinity in Japanese households and focuses on the roles of women and children within that context. The most interesting elements of White on Rice are at the forefront of thought in Tokyo Sonata and I highly recommend checking it out if it comes to a theater near you.

Written by: Sara Freeman, May 27th 2009

Frankly, My Dear: "Gone with the Wind" Revisited

admin — Tue, 26 May 2009 17:05:00 +0000

By Molly Haskell

Yale University Press

When I was about ten years old, my mother sat me down one Saturday afternoon and said “Sara, today we’re going to watch Gone with the Wind. You just need to see it.” That was over a decade ago, and I’ll never forget that cinematic experience, even if it did just involve sitting on the couch in front of a thirty-two-inch television and eating cherry turnovers with my mom.

I’ve always loved movies, but seeing Scarlet O’Hara (Vivien Leigh) taunt and toy with the people around her and demand what she wants had a profound effect upon my views of womanhood in both cinema and the rest of the world. Gone with the Wind remains, to this day, one of the few films I feel the need to re-visit on a yearly basis. And, despite her flaws, I still look up to Scarlet O’Hara with her green velvet curtain dress and “fiddle-di-dee” mentality.

If you know anything about classic Hollywood and the studio system, you’ve probably heard of the monumentally challenging efforts it took to bring Gone with the Wind to the screen in 1939. Its entire production, with the two year search to find the right Scarlet O’Hara, fifteen different screenwriters, and five different directors, is flat-out legendary. The film never should have worked on any level and yet, somehow, it did and still does for this generation. If adjusted for inflation, Gone with the Wind is the highest grossing film of all time, and it continues to be played regularly on television, DVD, theatrical revival circuits, and in the near future, Blu-ray.

In her latest book, Frankly, My Dear: "Gone with the Wind" Revisited, feminist film theorist Molly Haskell succinctly analyzes the history and hubbub of the landmark production as both a movie and a novel. She traces the film’s success, in terms of both box office gross, and at times, cinematic art, back to its three pillar figures: author Margaret Mitchell, producer David O. Selznick, and actress Vivien Leigh. Haskell sorts through their lives and their methods as if she were looking at pictures in a personal scrapbook and re-living the memories. Their towering personalities were the primary contributions to this melting pot of a film that made it work. As a classic film geek and fan of woman’s pictures, my favorite parts of the book dealt with the placement of Scarlet O’Hara as a feminist icon and heroine. Is she or isn’t she? Everyone feels differently.

A significant number of film theory/history books feel mundane because of their intense dedication to evoking every possible fact and foible. Frankly, My Dear, while still intensely dedicated, never feels monotonous or burdensome. Haskell, as a real Southern belle, feels at home in dissecting the step-by-step moments of Gone with the Wind and understanding the flaws and virtues instilled in its pages and celluloid as both a true-blue woman’s picture and racially confused melodrama. She’s as passionate about Gone with the Wind as Scarlet O’Hara is about her beloved Tara. And like Ms. O, Haskell digs deep into what she loves and won’t let go.

Whether you like the film and book or not, I think anyone who’s interested in history or pop culture will find Frankly, My Dear: "Gone with the Wind" Revisited remarkable because of Haskell’s passionate account and for the sheer enjoyment of learning about something bigger than life actually being made for mass consumption. Like Gone with the Wind, I’ll definitely return to Frankly, My Dear on a regular basis and happily place it on my bookshelf right next to my other favorite film books. And if you don’t like that, I don’t give a damn!

Written by: Sara Freeman, May 26th 2009

Aromaleigh Make-Up

admin — Sun, 03 May 2009 16:55:00 +0000

By Aromaleigh

When Bette Davis was entering her later years, she said something to the effect of, “I will not retire while I’ve still got my legs and my make-up box.” Bette, like a lot of us gals, knew the importance of quality make-up and what role it can play in our everyday lives. I savor my ten minute make-up sessions because it’s one of a few moments each day that I can actually be alone with my thoughts and prepare myself for what may come. Plus, experimenting with different looks and playing with bright colors and textures make me happy.

After receiving my sample package from Aromaleigh, I woke up every morning with a newfound sense of adventure and wonder because I not only got to have my alone time, but I also gained a chance to feel different everyday. They create, in essence, the make-up of my dreams because of their dedication to distinctive, desirable products. I’ve tried all kinds of make-up over the years, everything from the likes of Wet ‘n’ Wild to Estee Lauder, and I’ve never come across a company like Aromaleigh that speaks so directly to feminine creativity and expression. It’s honestly the best make-up I’ve ever put on my face.

Aromaleigh is a web-based, woman-run company from South Carolina. Their vast catalog consists of foundation, blush, lipstick, perfume, eyeliner, many different kinds of eye shadow, and more. As part of the mineral make-up revolution, Aromaleigh also knows how important it is to concoct their delightful delicacies with the finest, most eco-friendly ingredients available. None of their products are tested on animals, and you can read the ingredient lists online. Not only that, but their colorful baubles just feel good to wear. The “Divine Intervention” eye shadow sang symphonies off my face and never faded throughout my twelve-hour day.

I first discovered the company when a wonderful friend gave me samples of their vivacious silver frost “lily pad” eye shadow and rockin’ sonic coral “shadow of love.” Despite having very sensitive skin, all of Aromaleigh’s products work well with my complexion, and they don’t really fade or smudge. Thus far, I’ve tried items from their Bete Noir, Eyes Lustre, and Gothic Lolita collections. I honestly can’t articulate how many different colors, sparkles, and shades Aromaleigh boasts. They wield all the colors of the rainbow throughout their various collections and possess fun, frisky names like “Lush Memoir” (Gothic Lolita collection), “Darcelle” (Bete Noir collection), and “Space Oddity” (Sonic Cosmetic Collection). They mix and match colors like nobody’s business, and their new limited edition Orchid collection is practically mouth-watering. For eye shadows, they have mattes, frosts, sparkles, and all-encompassing combinations. The brightest of yellows and whites are at your disposal as are the darkest of blues, purples, and blacks. I’ve only tried lip products from the Gothic Lolita collection, but out of the four I tried (Melancholia, Pinafore, Wallflower, and Lollipop), none of them felt sticky or heavy and provided deep, lasting shades that “popped” off my fair skin.

At the risk of sounding like an infomercial, the best part about Aromaleigh is their reasonable prices. Most of their eye shadows range in price from $6-8, and you can buy samples (which last a long, long time) of many of their products for under $1.50. Like a lot of independent companies, Aromaleigh seems to rely on steady customers to keep their company afloat. Therefore, they offer weekly coupons and deals on select products. Plus, there’s free shipping for all sample orders, and they even throw in three random samples with every sale so you can try different things from different collections.

Above all, Aromaleigh truly cares about what they’re peddling. There’s a lot of craft, caress, and chutzpah placed in every treasured stroke of color and spark of glitter. You’ll get a lot for your money and feel marvelous while doing it. Whether you’re Bette Davis with blue eye shadow and brown mascara or someone like me who enjoys sparkling like a holiday with lilac purple and sea foam green, I’m sure Aromaleigh has a cosmetic soul mate in store for you.

Written by: Sara Freeman, May 3rd 2009

Revolutionary Road

admin — Sun, 08 Feb 2009 09:42:00 +0000

Directed by Sam Mendes

DreamWorks

In 1997 Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio made cinematic history by starring in the highest grossing film of all time, Titanic. Despite its expensively hokey exterior, Titanic demonstrated that DiCaprio and Winslet have talent to burn and mutually possess an intimate, intense chemistry that keeps audiences coming back for more. Following the success of the picture, both actors skyrocketed to superstar level fame, but neither one of them succumbed to the pressure and rarely appear in mediocre work. Instead, each continues to flourish as an artist by choosing material wisely and challenging themselves to perform difficult characters.

Needless to say, their time apart from one another has been fruitful; both actors have earned critical success as well as multiple Oscar nominations since their initial pairing. The parts they’ve played over the past eleven years have ultimately helped to prepare them for the two most demanding characters of their careers thus far: Frank and April Wheeler in Revolutionary Road.

Revolutionary Road is based on the highly acclaimed novel of the same name by Richard Yates. Though the movie is somewhat plotless, it revolves around Frank and April: a pair of nobodies who think they‘re somebodies living the same 1950s suburban lie as everyone else around them. By meandering through their life decisions, the now thirty-something couple find themselves settled down with two kids in a house with a white picket fence on the prestigiously middle class Revolutionary Road. We get glimpses of who they once were: April studied to be an actress and Frank lived the charismatic life of Riley. They were once happy together.

Seven years later, Frank and April now battle their individual demons by making each other miserable. April is dealing with unhappy housewife syndrome (which would later be coined the feminine mystique by Betty Friedan), while Frank grapples with the loss of masculinity in the mindless workaday business world. They constantly bicker, moan, and full-out fight, but neither genuinely attempt to make their lives or relationship better. Eventually, this lack of communication and understanding collides with the film’s looming pessimism and disastrous consequences.

In this reunion film, Winslet and DiCaprio are full-blown adults struggling to find the beauty within themselves, their marriage, and the seemingly stagnant society surrounding them. A filmed adaptation of the book has been in the coming-and-going stage of creation since the rights were first bought in the 1960s. If you ask me, they should have let it stew a bit more on the page before bringing it to cinematic life.

Sam Mendes, the Oscar winning director of such films as American Beauty and Road to Perdition, was the wrong director at the helm of this project. Revolutionary Road suffers from the same bombastic arrogance that plagues the small-town America depicted in American Beauty. Both films are about contemplation and maturity, but there’s no sense of that within the film’s visual or thematic subtext.

Each character is constantly spouting exactly what they’re thinking, without really thinking about what they‘re saying or feeling. Frank and April feel good about themselves because they understand the societal trap they’re inside, but feel powerless to do anything about it. The film itself is afraid to take flight and actually make a clear statement about the society in which April and Frank live in.

That is not to say that the film doesn’t raise any potent issues and questions. Though presented like quarrels between children playing house, Frank and April’s tit-for-tat arguments with each other do address the surface level problems in the era’s middle class lifestyle. Gender roles, abortion, infidelity, and martyrdom are all nicely compressed into the story, but even those facets are too watered down to make a significant impact. Ultimately, it’s not the melodramatic potboilers that make Revolutionary Road compelling to watch; it’s the fear that every single character possesses that maintains the viewer's attention.

An “Oscar” film contender at its core, Revolutionary Road doesn’t succeed in influencing our cultural understanding of 1950s Americana. We’ve seen it all before and in much better place (Peyton Place, Written on the Wind, All That Heaven Allows, The Best of Everything, The Fifties: A Woman’s Oral History). What you will get out of Revolutionary Road is the pleasure of seeing three absolutely terrific performances by Kate Winslet (who was robbed of her nomination), Leonardo DiCaprio, and relative newcomer Michael Shannon, who steals the show in his limited time on screen. Coupled with Roger Deakins’ masterful cinematography, the performances are what make Revolutionary Road worth watching.

Written by: Sara Freeman, February 8th 2009