It's Noon Somewhere...The Heisenberg

Sunday is the finale of Breaking Bad.  I have a complicated relationship with this show.  K and I are very bad telly watchers,  it took us about 2 years to watch The Wire and now we are slowly making it through The West Wing.  When I watch TV alone, I like to watch trashy stuff like ALL of the Real Housewives and anything else on Bravo (I love you, Andy Cohen!).  But K only likes to watch one show at a time.  After we finished The Wire, we decided to watch Breaking Bad, but K didn't really dig the first season.  I did, so I watched it alone and now we are watching the final season together (K can't stand not to be part of the zeitgeist!).  I think that Walt is a fantastic, fascinating character.  But I find many of the other characters less fleshed out and a little one note.  However, the plot twists and turns are riveting and perfectly paced and I think most of the scripts are pretty solid.  Overall, I like it but I can't say that I love it.   It is a fun and good show, but I can't get behind the people that call it the best show EVER; I don't think it has enough to say and the rewatchability isn't there for me.  That said, I am excited for the finale and can't wait to see how it all turns out.

Since I love a good themed drink.  I wanted to make a blue drink for the finale in homage to Walt's best creation / worst enemy, his blue meth, and his best creation / worst enemy, his alter ego, Heisenberg.  This is basically a tiki drink thrown in a martini glass, and while it may not be a craft cocktail, it is tasty, fruity, and a little addictive (probably like the blue meth?).  K and I actually served this drink at our wedding under the name Midnight Liaison since we did signature drinks representing Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue.  Enjoy this fruity, cheap and cheerful cocktail on Sunday Night!

The Heisenberg

1 part blue curaco
1 part orange liqueur
4 parts lemonade
1/2 lime

Mix together in a shaker with ice.  Garnish with a lime or if you are feeling extra fun some blue rock crystal candy!

Drink too many of these and you just might break bad yourself.

Julie

La Femme Recommends...Behind the Candelabra

I even Instagrammed it!

Behind the Candelabra is supposedly Steven Soderbergh's final film.  On the one hand, that's a damn shame, because he is a consistently interesting, journeyman filmmaker; on the other hand, this is a great way to go out, with a film filled with energy, verve, and drama.   It is a political drama, a love story, and a biopic all rolled up into one with a really sparkly facade.  It was the most fun I've had watching a movie all year, and I don't think it will be exceeded anytime soon.  K and I had a little two person party full of champagne, fondue, and gold sparkly turbans (well, just me with the turban) to celebrate Liberace in the proper setting! I giggled at the beginning but soon found myself engrossed in the human drama that Soderbergh and his actors created before me.

Who wouldn't want to have a hot tub in their bedroom?

Also, can I have a sparkly piano?

Michael Douglas takes center stage as Liberace (or Lee, as he prefers to be called).  Before watching this movie, I had some idea of who Liberace was, but my knowledge was mostly that he played the piano, wore ridiculous costumes, and was completely in the closet.  Douglas takes this colloquial caricature of Liberace and both plays it up and tears it down: his Lee is vain, audacious, gaudy, and can be terribly cruel and jealous, but he is also generous, fun, and caring.  Douglas provides what one always wants in a biopic subject, as he becomes the character, makes him full and well rounded. We don't have to compare Douglas's Liberace to the real person because, in the world of the film, he is Liberace.  Damon is just as good in the more thankless role of Scott Thorson, who meets Liberace by chance and is easily seduced by the furs, jewels, and excesses of Lee's life.  Damon does seem a little old to play this role, especially in the beginning of the film, but he is nevertheless able to exude the youth and playfulness that the role demands.  Additionally, the supporting cast is filled with those great little characters you expect from a Soderbergh film: Rob Lowe looking pulled and tucked and unrecognizable as Lee's plastic surgeon who hooks Thorson on diet pills (a.k.a speed), Dan Akroyd as Liberace's manager, Scott Bakula as Thorson's friend who introduces him to Lee, Cheyenne Jackson as Liberace's protege Bobby who is replaced by Scott, and Scott Ramsay as house boy (yes, that is exactly what you think it is, a manservant in booty shorts), Carlucci.  Both Jackson and XXX give great, nearly wordless performances, providing their manic highs and depressive lows simply with their faces (amazing scorn and side eye) and bodies (have you seen Carlucci's booty!).

In a lot of ways, this is a story that we have seen so many times in Hollywood, both in films and in real life couplings.  A young, beautiful creature is seduced by an older, successful entertainer. Typically, the balance of power in these kinds of relationships is split between the younger person using their body to entrance the older partner, and the older one using their money and lifestyle to keep the younger person around.  And usually that relationship ends in marriage, and, even if the younger person is replaced with a shiny, newer model, we see them getting some kind of security because of the marriage and we see the older character miserable because fame is ultimately empty, and so and and so on.  Behind the Candelabra plays out in that way too with one big caveat, because they men (one very much in the closet to his female fans), those options aren't open to them.  No matter how much they care for each other and how open they are in their own community, their relationship is always one behind closed doors or with Scott pretending to be someone else.  Lee hires Thorson as his assistant and pays him to come on stage with him, his fans think he is an employee and nothing more. They can't go out to clubs and restaurants like a normal couple so they spend all their time at home; which eventually causes their relationship to rot. We see how much Scott means to Lee, how much he really does love him, and the sad and ridiculous way he tries to legitimize their relationship to the rest of the world;  he buys him a house and puts it in Scott's name, he pays him an allowance (he also asks him to get plastic surgery so they can look more alike),  and even tries to adopt him in order to give their relationship some kind of legal status. But ultimately he can't do anything more, and when he is done with Scott he throws him out and Scott has no recourse, he loses the life he loved, just like that.   Behind the Candelabra is a trifle in many ways, reveling in the luxurious lifestyle of house boys, hot tubs, and garish gold everything, but it is also makes a subtle political statement about marriage equality and the necessity of it for the betterment of our society.

As Liberace liked to say, "Too much of a good thing is wonderful".  I could have saved a lot of time by just writing that about Behind the Candelabra.  I hope it is on HBO again right now.

Julie

It's Noon Somewhere...Mexican Madras

Lopez Island, Washington in the beautiful San Juan Islands is my family's summer getaway. I love it for its simplicity, amazing vistas, and solitude.  But I have to admit, this year I was dreaming of the preppy and oh so affluent Cape Cod.  The San Juans may be (as heard on the ferry over) "Washington's Cape Cod", but Lopez would be the hippie outcast of a WASPY family of capitalist, old money pigs.  To Cape Cod's Madras and Lobster Rolls, Lopez has flannel and vegan muffins.  But Lopez certainly has its own brand of folksy charm, from the village punctuated by Isabel's, the small cafe and quasi-book store that could almost be a parody of a coffee shop, to the friendly yet slightly wary clerks at the grocery store (which closes at 8:00); Lopez is a great destination to get away from it all.  Lopez may not be a haven of sophistication like Martha's Vineyard, but it is where my family goes to relax, along with the aging hippies of Washington State.  And, more importantly, it is a safe place we go to get really drunk and sit by the fire and throw things in it (in the past, my uncle has thrown his shoes in. This year it was an ice cream spoon), watch bad and/or silly movies, eat junk food, and generally make fools of ourselves.

This may have been the best sunset I've ever seen.

Not even that drunk, YET!

We play board games, go to the Farmer's Market and the tiny Village, make the annual trek to Friday Harbor (the big city of the San Juan's! Ha!) via ferry and wait for the late afternoon when it is socially acceptable to start drinking.  Not counting cocktails, wine, or beer with lunch and maybe a beer or cider (or let's be honest, A Mike's Hard Lemonade for me) in the afternoon, of course.  At night, after dinner, which is always a bit of a team effort and always tasty (although I definitely missed my brother's great cooking this year - he is in Philly for grad school and missed out), we break up into groups, usually with some of us outside by the fire and some of us inside watching movies or playing cards.  It is peaceful and restful and absolutely beautiful and I treasure the time away, even if I do sleep in a bunk bed or on a prison mattress.  Every year I look forward to the three or four days we spend in that grubby little house by the beach.  But enough of that, onto the cocktail!

K and I try to bring simple, easy cocktails that can be thrown together in the "charming" house we stay in (and by charming I mean kind of slightly gross... did I mention the prison mattress!?).  This year, because of my wish to bring a little bit of Cape Cod to Lopez, K and I made Cape Codders: Vodka, cranberry, lime; and Bay Breezes, made by just adding pineapple juice.  Simple and refreshing, and truth be told, not that big of a hit with anyone.  Neither K nor I are great lovers of vodka-based cocktails, but we thought they would be easy and fun.  So when we came home, I still wanted something fruity and different, but with a little bit more flavor and kick.  Hence the Mexican Madras adapted from the Ultimate Bar Book.  It substitutes tequila for the vodka and adds fresh squeezed orange juice to the cranberry and lime in the Cape Codder.  And I think it is a perfect blend of the sophistication of Cape Cod and the fun, silly Lopez vibe K and I love so much.  I think next year, this one will definitely be a big hit!

A little slice of Lopez (via Mexico and Cape Cod).

Mexican Madras:

2 oz tequila

3 oz cranberry juice

Juice of 1 orange (or about 1 oz)

Juice of 1 lime

Shake all together.  Serve on the rocks, I prefer crushed ice with this cocktail.  It gives it an extra cold and extra fun edge. Garnish with a slice of orange.

Cheers!

Julie

La Femme's Movie Marathon...It Sucks to Be British Part 2

Nil by Mouth (Gary Oldman 1997), : Every marathon inevitably has a clunker: a movie that sounds good on paper, but on execution falls short.  Nil by Mouth was the clunker of this marathon: a decent, if typical, portrait of lower class Londoners. The kind that drink too much, swear too much and live permanently on the dole. Ray Winstone and Kathy Burke impress as Ray and Val, a perfectly miserable couple whose relationship goes from bad to worse.  Winstone is angry, violent, emotional and despicable as a man who doesn't know any other way to show love than by using his very strong fists. Burke shows incredible strength as Val, a woman finally deciding to take control of her own life and stand up for herself and her children against Ray's violent behavior.  A portrait of contemporary London, Nil by Mouth portrays the world these characters live in and has an organic feel, showing the entire counsel estate, the laundromat that the men hang out at, to the old fashioned night club the whole family goes to on a special night.  Gary Oldman directed the film and while he doesn't have the cinematic verve of a Terrence Davies, Shane Meadows or Lynne Ramsey, he had a gritty realism that didn't seem put on.  I also liked the spheres of

men and women that Oldman portrays, the separate solace they give one another. We see the deep friendship between Winstone and Mark (Jamie Foreman), they can be at the pub together, telling big fish stories (or more accurately, "remember that time I got stabbed" stories), and know that your best mate would never contradict you.  More importantly, when Ray has no where to go and has reached his lowest point, his mate is the only person who he can confide in without fear of being seen as weak (which for a man like Ray is the biggest fear he has).  And as for Val, we see how she can only truly let her guard down and feel secure with the other women in her life, the generations of women who have endured the same life. Unfortunately, in the end, the film wallows too much in the doldrums of working class life and never illuminates the characters in any more than a trivial way.

My Name is Joe (Ken Loach, 1998):  Full Disclosure, we needed subtitles for Ken Loach's portrait of an unemployed recovering alcoholic (Peter Mullan) trying to stay sober in Glasgow.  Peter Mullan is subtle and powerful as Joe, in a role that could have been large and overpowering, he plays it quiet and as a fully realized character.  For a film about alcoholism, Joe is much more than an alcoholic.  Loach uses his typical realist style and the story is straightforward yet sensitively told.  The relationship between Joe and Sarah is realistic and sweetly romantic.  We know the inevitable moment of Joe's relapse is coming and Mullan and Loach play it without too much dramatic effect (well, in that moment.  The moment that comes next is so over the top that it seems extremely out of place in this film).  To be quite frank, all of us had a terrible time understanding the very thick Scottish accents so I can't say too much more, since a lot of our viewing was spent saying, "what did he say?". There was no subtitles on our version so we missed a lot unfortunately (especially K, who fell asleep).  Joe begins a tentative relationship with a social worker, Sarah (Louise Goodall, also wonderful) and tries to help out his young friend (David McKay) who has gotten in trouble with some criminals.

Ratcatcher (Lynne Ramsay, 1999):  Lynne Ramsay's debut film, Ratcatcher was the discovery of the marathon.  Dreamlike, captivating and tragic, Ratcatcher follows James, a twelve year old boy,  and his family in 1973 Glasgow.  The garbage men are striking and they live in half deserted counsel houses without running water, waiting to be re-homed to new houses outside that city that James visits as a respite to his monotonous.  The film opens with the death by drowning of one of James' friends, a death James witnesses (and perhaps contributes to in a small way).  James father is typical of British film, a drunken, abusive boar and his mother is the strict, yet loving, hold it all together type.  Ramsay does well to tell this story through a child's eyes because the world James lives in is so depressing and so grimy and disgusting that if we didn't see it through the relative joy of a child, the movie would be unbearably sad (and it nearly is anyway).  The tone of the film is so remarkable, for an example, one of the children in the flats is a little boy named Kenny who is slightly developmentally disabled and loves animals.  He has his own little menagerie in his flat.

James, is on the outskirts of a group of older bad boys and when Kenny comes out in the courtyard with his new mouse, we see the boys take it and start to throw it and tell Kenny that his mouse can fly.  The tension is incredible as we watch this little mouse fly through the air and hope it doesn't land splat.   Finally, he gets it back  and under the impression that it can fly, ties a balloon to the poor mouses tail and sends it to the moon.  What should be a sad moment turns to delight and whimsy as we follow this mouse all the way to the moon and see him there with all his mouse friends that have made this perilous journey.  It is a moment of levity and wit that prevents this film from becoming misery porn like some of the other films we have seen in this marathon.  Ramsay's use of the camera is assured and stylish without being over the top and her cinematography is dark and menacing, punctuated by moments of pure, unadulaterated beauty (for example, the stunning shots of James visiting the new homes that face open fields of golden wheat). Ratcatcher is emotionally draining yes, but cinematically life affirming.


Ultimately, I enjoyed this little slice of Britain that we discovered on this marathon.  It very well may suck to be British, which all of these films showed, but there is something wonderful in the dignity, pride and humor of the lower middle class.  Maybe its not so bad after all (not that I want to find out!).

Julie