So this is part of something new I’ve been meaning to do. I’ll be posting a video semi-weekly for each letter of the alphabet. This is a great song by Broken Social Scene. It’s lyrics simple, just the same few verses, but the hit deep. The video adds to that. Great stuff.

Its central character is Meiko, a recent college graduate who works an office job she hates in Tokyo. She lives in an apartment with her boyfriend Taneda. He works a part time job as an illustrator to help her out and also gets together with the members of his college band to play music. There’s a quiet desperation in all of them, two years out of college and working jobs that really just pay the bills, they’re all aching to strike out and reach for something more. Music seems to be the answer for them.

Solanin is a glimpse of the disoriented youth and feels a lot like a vignette of that time in your life when you don’t know what the hell you’re going to do. A feeling I can definitely relate to. Aesthetically, it’s well done. The detail in the cityscapes are great, giving the manga an essential urban feel. While I’ve said it’s sad, it’s also humorous and nuanced. Definitely worth a look.

Growing up in Miami, where there’s a very large Spanish-speaking population, it’s always been strange to me that Latin Rock is not bigger here. Aside from Mana (who really, is like the Matchbox 20 of Rock En Español) a lot of the youth here is blithely unaware of the treasure trove of Latin bands in the rock genre that truly and genuinely rock. As a kid in middle and high school this was fine as I found great pleasure in being one of the few in the know, as most teenagers do. Eventually, though, I stopped being so selfish and became the kind of person that loves to discuss and gush over music, finding kindred spirits in other music lovers and spreading the love.

Café Tacvba has been around for a while, over 20 years at this point. If pressed I could say they’re the fathers of Spanish Rock, although I’m afraid what image that might present. It’s typical for bands this old to become a bit stale, but that’s not the case here. They fathered a movement, but still remain incredibly innovative in their music. If you were to listen to their discography back to back, you instantly notice that their sound changes from album to album. It morphs, develops and progresses, the only distinguishing feature being the lead singer, Ruben Albarran’s nasal, high pitched voice.

I don’t even think it’s 100% accurate to lump them in the rock genre, truthfully. There are boleros, a lot of their music is heavily influenced by the Mexican indigenous populations, as well as by Mexican folk music, but there’s some punk and heavy metal sounds in there too. They’re a treasure trove of sound, and for a music lover, you really appreciate it all. It’s very important for me to get across that I don’t like Café Tacvba because they’re a Spanish band. I like them because they’re fucking amazing musicians and performers. The music transcends language. The video above is for Maria, the third single off their first self titled album and one of their best songs. Not rock at all, but instead following in the traditions of Mexican boleros, it demonstrates their range in sound.

I can say that I’ve always liked them, literally growing up with their music. I became devoted to them though the moment I saw them in concert. It was 2007 at Lollapalooza, and frankly the audience consisted of 20 or 30 people who hadn’t run off early in order to get good spots for Pearl Jam. They performed like there were 3,000 people out there roaring for them. That passion, that enthusiasm and the love they have for their music and their audience was palpable. It was easily the best show I’d seen in my life. It was only trumped a year later in Miami when I saw them again for the release of their latest album, Si No. The video above is for their cover of Dejate Caer, a song originally by Los Tres. They really make it their own though. The greatest part in this video is just a few seconds after the three minute marker, a moment they recreate at every concert. It’s also the birthplace of Ruben’s now signature rooster skullcap.

My favorite thing about Café Tacvba is that you can tell they love what they do in just watching them perform. Sure, you don’t do something for 20 years because you hate it, but they could probably get away with slumming it. They don’t. Each CD feels like the first one and holds that much passion, that much work and devotion, if not more. Watch them perform and you can tell they love it. They love each other, they love the music, and they love the audience. It’s infectious. It makes me happy to hear all of that in their music. The video above is for Queiro Ver, a song off their latest album, Si No. The melodies and harmonies in the song are excellent, but the video itself is intensely charming.

The film begins with Manuela (Cecilia Roth), a nurse and a single mother to Esteban, a teenager and self-proclaimed writer. As they sit down for dinner in front of their television one evening, Esteban asks his mother, “Would you prostitute yourself for me?” and Manuela answers, her inflection and the look in her eyes reverberating the truth in her words, “I’ve already been capable of doing everything for you.” Theirs is a very close relationship, and, in the first few moments of the film, we see that it’s also one plagued by the secret of who Esteban’s father really is.

Very soon after, the pair attend a showing of A Streetcar Named Desire, featuring Huma Rojo (Marisa Paredes). When the show is over, they wait in the rain, Manuela giving in to Esteban’s whim because it’s his birthday, and he wants an autograph. He chases after Huma’s taxi and, in his pursuit, is killed by a car. It’s an incredibly hard scene to watch. There’s no gruesomeness, but Roth does an amazing job evoking the pain of losing a son. We do not see Esteban. Instead, we see his mother in his eyes as she runs to him, crying for her son, begging for his life to a God who, at the moment, is utterly invisible and unavailable. However sad, though, here is where the film’s and Manuela’s journey begin. She travels to Barcelona after having left over seventeen years ago in search of a father who had no idea he ever was one.

She does not find him immediately, though, and instead meets and reacquaints herself with an amalgam of very different ladies. Agrado (Antonia San Juan) is one such lady, a transvestite and a hooker. She steals the show with her comedic timing and delivery. The most beaten upon character (literally) in the film, Agrado maintains a level of pride and wisdom that only a very real and very strong woman can. Toward the film’s end, her monologue is perhaps the funniest and truest statement there is about women in this film. After detailing the various surgeries and expenses that have led her to where she is, she ends the speech with, “It has cost me a lot to be authentic, but we mustn’t be cheap when it comes to our looks, because a woman is more authentic the closer she gets to what she’s always dreamed of for herself.”

The women in All About My Mother are hookers, nuns, actresses and mothers; All of them fucked up in their own special way, only managing to keep their head above water by holding onto each other. With this film Almodovar is honoring not just womanhood, but the solidarity that comes with that. After the film’s final scene, Almodovar ends with a dedication. “To Bette Davis, Gena Rowlands, Romy Schneider…To all actresses who have played actresses, to all women who act, to men who act and become women, to all people who want to become mothers. To my mother.” In those words, there’s an implication that couldn’t be truer. That to act and to mother is all intrinsically tied to womanhood.

I want to devote this space to all the things I love. Music, Movies, Books, Fashion, Food, Travel, etc. There are many things I could list (list-making being a preferred hobby of mine). I want to write more. I spend a lot of time thinking about writing and not enough time writing. I mean, I’m a paper writing machine, but I want these ten pages to stand outside of all my academic work. I’ve decided to get organized about it too and have a few feature topics for the blog that I’ll be introducing during the next couple of weeks. It’s in order to focus me and make my updating more consistent.

This is a project for me. To get better at the art form I love the most, the written word, and to discover and rediscover all those things I’m so passionate about.

Edit: So the plan is that every Monday I will have a new post up. First Monday of the month is a post on a cult film favorite of mine, second Monday will be on the music that has most of my attention at the moment, the third Monday on comic books. In between these feature installations I’ll have other post covering other pop culture topics such as what’s on tv or at the movies. I’ll be going to a lot of live performances in the near future so expect some information that. I should have posted all this sooner than I did, but I ended up getting sick and there you have it. Still expect much more regular posting now that the major bulk of midterms and illness have passed. At the very least there will be regular posting on Monday, especially since I’ve been really doing my homework and have material in mind for the next few weeks ahead.

I must have been 8 or 9 when my father loaded twelve of us (my mother and two of my siblings along with assorted cousins and aunts) into a rented van at some eerily early moment of the morning. I know that at most the trip must have lasted four hours, but the drive seemed eternal. On the turnpike the darkness and the wilderness surrounding seemed never ending. Suddenly there were no more man-made structures besides the road we were on. Had it not been for the service stations every hour or so I was sure we were leaving civilization. When hunger set in my father, who for all intents and purposes is the cheapest man on earth, refused to buy anything. He had made my aunt pack sandwiches. Sweet ham sandwiches. Anyone who knows me knows my adversity toward sweet meats. I am not a fan of foods that are sweet that should be savory. Worse than that, though, the sandwiches had gone bad. The lunchmeat was covered in a slimy film and emanated a rancid smell. Still my father refused to buy anything. We did not eat that day, my siblings and I.

My memories of the actual park are vague, overall, but I do recall my jealously as I watched my cousin eat ice cream she’d been bought because she was too much of a wuss to ride Space Mountain. More jealousy came when witnessing more of my cousins ask for autographs in their official Disney autograph books, another thing my dad refused to buy. My sister, taking pity on me, searched a gift shop and bought me one too, but by the time it was in my hands, we didn’t run into another Disney character. Not until it was time to go at least. After two hours my father decided we’d had enough fun and began to herd us all toward the exit. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Pluto and my sister yelled, “Go Sarah Go!!” I ran to him, skipping in front of a long line of girls who yelled and complained as Pluto signed his name and gave me a hug. I still have that autograph book and Pluto remains close to my heart, but understandably Disney World not so much.

I returned just last weekend and I’ll be truthful, it was not bad. It did occur to me however that maybe it’s because the Magic Kingdom did not capture my heart as a child that there is always something missing, that essential piece of the Disney experience that makes it like magic on earth.

I’m taking on 1920s Literature, Harlem Renaissance Literature, and African American Literature. I’ll be reading some books I’ve always wanted to read, but never have (like the Great Gatsby) and in general I always love my Literature classes. There is something therapeutic about analyzing a text and, I know this is quite nerdy, but I love to read feedback on my papers. The kudos from professors like the gold stars one receives in kindergarten, approval of the finest kind. I’m also taking an intro to Black and White Photography that I’m really looking forward to. I complain a lot about not having many opportunities to be creative and this should help quell the desires a bit.

I’m working on reading the last three volumes of Fables, although I have read some other comics in between. For Christmas Jeremy bought me the Marvel Pride and Prejudice comic book. It was nothing new, which is fine as no one likes to read butchered Jane Austen and it’s always fun revisiting. The art was just as good as the already tried and true Austen text. I also read The Zombie Survival Guide: Recorded Attacks (also a gift from Jeremy). It basically takes some of the accounts from the book and illustrates them, gruesome imagery and all. It’s fun though and I do love zombie lore and Max Brooks does it incredibly well.

For those curious I did watch Broken Embraces before the end of the year. I won’t say too much as I’m sure I’ll eventually dedicate an entire entry to the film, but suffice to say that it was incredibly satisfying to see a new Almodovar film. Every couple of years I get the craving and he always delivers. I am hoping this year I can dedicate more time to the blog, at least post a couple of times a week. I’ll only know for sure once I settle in to this school schedule, but I’ll try and make the time either way.

Penelope Cruz

I fell in love with Penelope this year. I feel she’s really blossomed as a performer. Her choices in film have become wiser, more selective, and her acting more intense and fierce. I truly believe her work in Almodovar’s films has provided her with an opportunity to show off her acting chops. No longer relegated to “sexy Latin lover” roles, her 2006 lead in Volver proved she was truly capable as an artist. Almodovar, throughout her career, has handed her better, more intense parts in his films, and now, in Broken Embraces, the faith that Almodovar has always placed in her as an actress really seems to pay off. While not her biggest fan at the onset, she’s really proved to me and to her audience that she’s not just a pretty face and a rocking bod. What I love about her the most is that she’s an actor whose work still seems full of integrity and passion.

True Blood

I’ve always had a special place in my heart for vampires. In a world where vampires are now bedazzled and abstinent, True Blood brings back the sexy, tortured tormentors I grew up with. Not only are these vampires as they should be (dark, lusty and blood thirsty), True Blood also isn’t taking itself too seriously. At this point there’s something almost comical about the tortured and sexy vampire, falling for the virginal young women so hard he can’t be with her because his love is a danger etc. etc. True Blood took those vampire stereotypes, ran and played with them and presented us with vampires like Eric and terms like fangbanger. Full of sex, lust, blood and torture, it also packs in a fair share of campiness that makes the entire cocktail a delight to swallow. One of the shows best moments and also a good example of what it’s all about is Eric descending from the stairs with foils in his hair and then dismembering a man in his basement. Afterwards he asks of another very scared prisoner, “Did I get blood in my hair?” Hilarious and disturbing, just like vampires should be.

Fables

Fables, Bill Willigham’s popular comic book series, spin-offs included, have really caught my attention this year. The idea that all those familiar fairy tale characters have been displaced from their lands and kingdoms and are now living in a secret community within New York is just brilliant. The story telling is epic, sweeping and beautiful and the art work an excellent homage to the beatific images of Snow White and Sleeping Beauty we all have stored in our childhood memories, with an adult twist of course. One of the great things about reading Fables is that it feels as if I’m catching up on the juicy back-story of all these Fable characters. It never negates any of the childhood stories we’re most familiar with, but rather fills you in on the adult material we couldn’t have understood when we were first introduced to that that world, making it much more complex and rich. Prince Charming’s womanizing prowess, The Big Bad Wolf’s complicated relationship with his father, Hansel’s murderous tendencies; it challenges the tried and true happy endings, making them much more intriguing and enriching.

Super Mario Bros. Wii

Perhaps my opinion is a bit biased as I have very fond memories of playing Super Mario Bros. on my brother’s Super Nintendo, I, in my enthusiasm, jumping whenever Mario did and accidentally disconnecting the remote from the system time and time again. It’s hard for me to find fault in the franchise and whenever I see the iconic mustachioed gentlemen in their red and green suits respectively, I can’t help but get a little bit excited. Super Mario Bros. Wii saw the return of the Koopa Kids as well as introducing a 4-player mode. I could sit down with my husband and two of five nephews and really go at it with them. While it can get a little confusing (especially if I’m not wearing my glasses) and while it’s not all roses (having to replay levels in order to save kidnapped toads is plain useless in my opinion) the game does recapture a lot of what was great about the old games and it’s a lot of fun.

Coraline

I love Neil Gaiman and I love the Nightmare Before Christmas so when Coraline, based on Gaiman’s novel and directed by Nightmare’s Henry Selick, was announced I was very excited. It was a mission and a half to get my five nephews to agree to watch a movie with a female protagonist, but their exhilaration and proclamations of “Wow, that was good!” once we left the theater proved me right once again. While not entirely true to the novel, the film stuck to the books Gaimain-esque mixture of wit and creepiness. Selick’s artistry was marvelous, it’s almost impossible to believe that so much of it is hand crafted. Even the inclusion of 3D serves to enhance the entire movie experience, creating breath taking sequences out of already amazing footage.

Anthony Bourdain

I’ve been a fan of the Travel Channel’s No Reservations and host Anthony Bourdain for a long time now, but this year cemented my love for him, the show and what it all represents. I finally sat down and read Tony’s 2000 memoir Kitchen Confidential, the one that launched his television career, and I also saw him at the Arsht Center, alongside Jaques Pepin, whom he gushed over a little like a fanboy, and Eric Rippert. Not only is he as wonderful and cantankerous in person and on paper as he is on TV, even the show throughout the years seems to have grown and taken off into something much more wise and thoughtful than a travel guide. That mixture of dirty humor, begrudging acceptance and almost philosophic prose has made the show one of my absolute favorites and Bourdain someone I deeply respect. His approach to food, but more importantly culture and humans is fresh and something not at all present in the shows of that guy that goes around eating weird shit or that other guy who basically just proves how much of a glutton he is. No matter how sarcastic, no matter how unpleasant, Bourdain always comes through as honest to a fault and deeply respectful of the very different cultures he visits.

Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown put Almodovar on the map. It was his most accessible film for the time, lacking the raunchiness and adult material present in much of his earlier films. I was a very tiny two years old when this film was released in 1988 so it’s safe to say that I arrived late to the party. I was probably 11 or 12 when I first saw it, a rental from my local Blockbuster video store. My first memories of it are vague, but I do know I liked as much I could understand. I’ve always known Spanish rather well, but understanding the language outside of the normal day-to-day conversations with my mom took some work, especially that quick paced Spanish accented wit that so relentlessly spilled from every character’s lips. It took a couple viewings to really cement my love and adoration, but it did. In time I was scouring the video stores for anything with Almodovar’s name on it.

The film begins with Pepa, splayed unglamorously on her bed, deep in sleep in her penthouse. Pepa dreams of Ivan, her ex-lover, walking past several women, romancing each one of them, and speaking into a microphone what they would all like to hear. His voice, actually, is a prominent feature in the film. It’s how he and Pepa met, both of them voice actors, but more importantly it’s how he romances and lies. Fernando Guillen plays the role of Ivan and his deep, silken voice, often apologetic and always romantic, fools women. He’s shown dubbing lines in Johnny Guitar and he plays the part so well. Later, after Pepa finally comes to and shows up to do her part as Joan Crawford, Ivan’s voice pipes Sterling Hayden’s lines to her headphones. It’s understandable that she cries and it’s understandable that she faints. Women on the Verge… is an over the top depiction of women on their last wits, but it remains honest and truthful, even if a bit melodramatic and campy.

Carmen Maura as Pepa is excellent. Witty, intelligent and sexy, she is so incredibly raw and brilliant in this film. Even in her outdated 80s clothing and stressed out state I admired her. Maura is not what you’d consider a typical beauty, but her acting and delivery are so great, you fall in love with her. In her mannerisms and style there is this sensuous luster. Almodovar gives her so many choice lines in Women on the Verge… and sadly the effect is a little softened by translation, although not entirely lost. Pepa is so desperate throughout the film to just speak to Ivan, to tell him the important news she’s received from the doctor and his constant avoidance and lies are just winding her up. She makes a batch of gazpacho and then drops a handful of barbiturates into it and declares, “I’m sick of being good.” But Pepa really never stops being good. In comparison to the other women that surround Ivan she’s cool, calm and collected. Even when she bumps into his son, a son she had no idea existed over the course of a long-term relationship, she takes the information in stride and she accepts Carlos (Antonio Banderas) in a way his father or mother have been unable to.

Carlos’ character brings up just one more thing that is incredible about Almodovar. He has a striking ability to bring out the very best in actors. I truthfully cannot say much about Banderas’ work in the United States, except that he’s usually just forced into the stereotypical role of the Latin lover. In his native Spain, however, and in Almodovar’s films he has always been brilliant, demonstrating a complexity of character that is lost in his American roles. In Women on the Verge… he plays the stuttering son of Ivan. Seemingly innocent, he’s still much like his father, making frequent passes at Candela (Maria Barranco, who herself plays an incredibly hilarious character) while his girlfriend Marisa (Rossy De Palma) is passed out on Pepa’s balcony. Still there’s something underlying his brazen attraction toward Candela. When Pepa accidentally refers to him as Ivan, he nods as if accustomed to living in his father’s shadow. It’s been suggested that Carlos has his eye on Pepa as well, although I myself don’t share this sentiment. She impresses him, because she’s an undeniably impressive woman, but I don’t think Carlos is that big a cad.

I really don’t want to reveal too much of the film as the key to enjoying it is in its many plot twists and turns. Still there are so many great small details to this film that I just am dying to gush over. Lucia, Ivan’s wife, who he’s literally drove insane and her bizarre 60’s fashion is just one of those. Julieta Serrano plays her perfectly, countering Pepa’s cool and collected nature with her medical insanity. Even the Mambo Taxi, who happens to pick Pepa up three times, both of those times in order to follow someone, becomes a much beloved and hilarious part of the film. It’s over the top, no doubt, but it’s great nonetheless and I suppose that’s the perfect way to sum up this film. A little on the bizarre side and often unbelievable, it is Almodovar at his best, demonstrating his true knowledge and kinship with women and their complexities and laughing at them a little bit, but also depicting them in a way that’s so truthful it can be insightful.

As things start buzzing for Christmas and settling down for the new year, and with this very welcome indeed free time that I have between semesters, I’ve decided to remain optimistic. It’s very easy for me to look at myself and my life and feel frustrated because I’m not where I’d like to be, but I’ve decided that the best way to look at life is as a work in progress. It’s not perfect, but I’m getting there. I’ve grown, I’ve learned and I’m chalking things up to experience.