The MRFH 2006 Revue

The MRFH 2006 Revue

Um, the year is over already? That was fast.

Seriously. When you have a kid, everyone tells you, "Enjoy it. It goes by so fast." And it's true. The only explanation that Duckie and I have come up with are that baby farts are so potent that they alter the space-time continuum. Bottle the stuff and you could probably make a fortune. Regardless, the year flew by, and here we are writing the 2006 article.

Obviously, this year has been like no other year in my entire life. I could enumerate the ways in which life has changed, but I tend to hint at them in reviews. Let's just say it all boils down to going from having a baby to having a toddler. All I can really say is that there's a lot more plastic in my life now.

A lot more plastic and a lot less movies. I saw all of four movies in the theaters this year: Brokeback Mountain, X3: The Last Stand, The Devil Wears Prada, and For Your Consideration. Four, where at one time, that was what I'd see in a month. How the mighty have fallen! So plastic is also extending to DVD cases and remote controls.

I'm really low on creativity tonight, and the deadline is looming, and I've learned never to count on naptimes for writing. Plus, I want to relax in a hot bath. So, I peeked back at my old articles (I've been here since 2003? Wow.), and am shamelessly stealing my old format.

Presenting, Lissa's (Personal) Top Movie Moments of 2006.

Getting a letter from a soldier serving in Iraq about my Jarhead review. Feedback is a wonderful thing, and I appreciate it more than I can say when someone takes the time to drop me a line and say that they liked my writing. But it's rare that I get a letter from someone that makes me want to cry because it's clear I've touched them and they've gotten what I'm saying and I've gotten what they're going through — it's the kind of experience I write for and rarely expect to achieve. But I'm pretty much ready to frame that particular letter.

Having to pee at Brokeback Mountain. It's the reason I didn't cry during the movie, which, given that I was maybe a month postpartum and still trying to nurse, should have been like shooting fish in a barrel. But I didn't, even though it was a really good movie.

Crash kicking Brokeback's butt at the Oscars. I wasn't terribly disappointed because I wasn't really in the real world. But almost everyone I know that actually cares was caught somewhere between disappointment and devestation. Me, I'd already given up all faith when Jarhead was completely ignored.

Finally renting Crash. I still haven't reviewed it, but it was pretty darn good. Even if it was so heavy handed it dropped its message like anvils.

Finally seeing King Kong, and promptly forgetting most of it. Jeez, was that movie long. I still don't really remember most of it, except for thinking there were some awfully pretty sets and that the blonde chick looked awfully clean for being stolen by a giant monkey.

Drew catalyzing an old-movies kick here thanks to Gender Clash Week. Remember when we girls made the guys watch hideously pink movies and the guys made us watch as macho movies as they could devise? Well, thanks to Drew giving me The Searchers, we went through The Magnificent Seven, Cool Hand Luke, The Great Escape, and something else that I'm pretty sure had Steve McQueen in a matter of weeks. Of course, I still haven't reviewed the last two, but I watched them and enjoyed them.

Seeing X3: The Last Stand in the theater. Hey, it might not have been the best movie ever, but it was great to get out!

Meryl Streep's devastating "That's all." in The Devil Wears Prada. Man, that woman is good. Seriously. She makes me want to live my life working in the government. Of course, you get more than your fair share of loonies there, too.

After a long drought, getting enough energy to watch movies again — or at least figuring out we need to decide which movie to watch before the Ducklet goes to bed. When it takes the two of you an hour to agree on something and you know one of you has to get up at 6:00 the next morning, it really makes it hard to watch a movie at night. It took a while, but we finally got a strategy down.

Getting a whole whopping 5 pieces of mail plus a mention on Whedonesque (where several people pointed out that I got Wash's first name wrong — it's Hoban, not Horace — I have no idea what I was thinking) for the Star Wars vs. Serenity article. Ask most of my brethren: 5 pieces of mail for one article is an avalanche. Seriously. It was awesome.