This weekend Cinecultist didn't watch any movies. Instead we read books! Took naps in the grass! Went to a flea market! Drank lots of white wine! Drove around the Vermont countryside introducing the locals to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! which blared from the stereo. Unfortunately though, more relaxation equaled less movies. Unless you count the 20 odd minutes of Sixteen Candles that we caught on Sunday as we packed our bags and tried to help tidy up the house.
Here's what we observed, in that short span:
- Nobody makes movies like John Hughes any more. Some might call this a good thing, but CC finds it just sad. Texture, people. Character. Comic timing. Milieu. The Hughes-ster had it all. Each little throw away moment -- from Joan Cusack using her sweatshirt as a towel to Anthony Michael Hall unable to open the shop car door until Molly Ringwald pulls up the door lock -- is like a poem.
- Molly Ringwald's outfits in this movie are so for sale right now down at your local Urban Outfitters. Doesn't her top in the picture above look like something you could pop into American Apparel to pick out this afternoon? Crazy fashion trends.
The moral of the story? We're getting back in the saddle this week, promise. More movies, more obnoxious opinions to come. In the meantime, check out the adorable article about our newlywed friends in this Sunday's New York Times Vows section. And you thought they only wrote about blue blood Ivy League-types with finance jobs and perfect teeth.Posted by karen at August 29, 2005 11:35 PM