La Femme in...Las Vegas

 Las Vegas was not originally on our itinerary.  We planned to go from Palm Springs to Flagstaff, Arizona, with a stop at the Grand Canyon.  But honestly, I am not a nature girl and our dogs are definitely not nature dogs and K and I figured we would spend maybe an hour or two at the Grand Canyon before one of us would say (yes, probably me) “I’m too hot, my feet hurt” and Rufus our thirteen pound terrier would have walked about 20 minutes tops before wanting to quit.  K is a casual MMA fan and a not so casual Conor McGregor fan and when he realized that he would be fighting in Vegas during our road trip and that we could make a side trip to see him, he was thrilled. Then we looked at the tickets left and I didn’t want to sell a kidney.  But we decided to just take the side trip anyway since neither of us had ever been to Vegas and it would be much farther away from Virginia.  Plus, a city built on drinking and gambling and glitter?  Sounds right up my alley.   

So here we go, K and J’s 48 hours in Vegas with two dogs.  

First of all, don’t take your dogs to Vegas, ever.  I mean maybe if you have one or two tiny little guys it would be fine, but don’t take a dog you can’t pick up, because it is a nightmare.  K and I stayed at The Paris and I had no idea how massive it would be or how far away our car would be from the lobby and the elevators.  And how many people would look at you like a freak show when you are walking your forty pound dog who hates tile floors through the casino to go to the tiny patch of astro turf they call a dog area. And a scary guy in the parking stairwell with a gun in his holster might give you a dirty look.   Once we made it through that gauntlet the first time, it got much easier and we figured out the best times of days to take them out.  They also got an early morning walk down The Strip which they loved, but otherwise, they were pretty much stuck twenty stories up for two days.  I will admit I had my first meltdown once we got to the room, telling K, “We can’t stay, we have to leave!” He talked me down and said, “What you need is a drink and you will feel better.” 

This was after midnight, look how bright it is inside!

So with that, we ventured out to The Strip. I have been lucky to travel to major cities all over the world and I have never felt more overwhelmed than I did in those first few moments in Vegas.  The amount of people on a Saturday afternoon crossing the street from the Paris to the Bellagio was overwhelming.  The people were a colorful crew, I saw bikinis(it wasn’t very sunny), shirtless guys in camo pants wanting to charge you to take a picture and have them hug you (nope, I’m good), people with selfie sticks, classy people, trashy people, old people, young people.  There was even a guy dressed like Watler White in the biohazard suit the looked so much like Bryan Cranston I thought it was some kind of late night show stunt.  And I though, “I hate this I want to go” while looking at a fake Eiffel Tower.  I know this sounds incredibly snobby but if I can’t be honest here, where can I?  It was so artificial and crowded and hot and I was hungry and I hated everything.  Then K and I walked into the Belaggio and sat down at the cafe and ordered food, and I saw the ridiculous pool outside and I got a cocktail and he talked me down, like he always does.  Also, I might have been hangry, maybe. 

Once I was able to accept Vegas for what it was, and let loose and accept it as Disney for adults, I would have a great time.  Just like Main Street USA is a fantasy of small town America, The Paris is a fantasy of France (you know, baguettes, Eiffel Tower, Breton stripes and tiny cute buildings.  They forgot the dog poop but kept the cigarettes, but you can’t smoke inside restaurants in France anymore so even that is inauthentic! I kid the French because I love them so much)  Once I got off my high horse and took it with the nature it was intended it was awesome, I almost let my snobbery get in the way of a good time.  

K and I had dinner at Scarpetta in the Cosmopolitan overlooking The Strip that night and it was strangely beautiful.  And we leant in to the luxury of the place and ordered bottled water which K drank in about a second and didn't realize.  I paid twenty five dollars for pasta with tomato and loved it.  We saw the drummer for the Foo Fighters on our way out holding court with three women (he really does have great hair).  Then we headed to our hotel and had drinks and people watched and laughed because it is so bright in there it feels like daytime all the time.  Then I played the Britney slot machine, and I was happy.  Can we talk just for one second about the Britney Spears Slot Machine?  It is the best, its like a huge arcade console you sit at with Britney Spears songs playing and lights and sounds and videos.  If someone can figure out how to get me one at home, I would never stop playing. 

The next day, Sunday, K and I headed to the very impressive Neon Light Museum, which is a large Neon Boneyard near the older part of Vegas.  At the yard there is a huge collection of Neon signs from all of Vegas’ history.  It’s basically Instagram Paradise.  The tour guide was funny and informative about the different signs until the rain started going crazy about halfway through and we had to cut it short.  So instead, K and I headed back to the strip, walked up to Italy (a.k.a The Venetian) and relaxed with the dogs until it was time for drinks. 

The Cosmopolitan is what I imagined Vegas, or the best of Vegas to be.  Glitzy, dark, lots of sparkles (and they had a Britney slot machine too!) and K and I had drinks in the stunning Chandelier Bar before heading back to dinner at Mon Ami Gabi at our hotel.  The food we had was mostly pretty great over the two days we were in Vegas and the steak at Mon Ami Gabi was no exception.  A waiter literally broke about 25 plates though in one fell swoop and that was by far the most memorable part of our evening. 

And what of gambling?  I hate to say it but we we were not winners, we put aside a small amount and came back with about $21.00.  We tried, slots, poker and roulette but it was ultimately that Britney machine that gave us our final win.  Vegas may be silly and overstuffed and indulgent, but we can all use a little silliness sometimes.  As we rode the elevator upstairs, I smiled at K and said, “you were right.  This was fun.” 

Julie

La Femme Recommends....Mommy

I first encountered Xavier Dolan at SIFF (Seattle International Film Festival) in 2009.  His first film, I Killed My Mother was playing and the blurb in the guide intrigued us. Films at SIFF are always a mixed bag, you don't know if you are going to check out a masterpiece or basically the most cliched indie you have ever seen.  In the case of I Killed my Mother we saw an audacious debut by a 17(!) year old director.  I was smitten, I loved Dolan's brash yet lush style and found the depiction of a teenager who loved his mother but also couldn't stand her realistic and moving.  Since then I have followed Dolan's career closely, and have generally enjoyed his follow up films.  But nothing has quite lived up to that debut.

That is until I finally checked out his 2014 film Mommy.  Starring Dolan regulars, Anne Dorval and Suzanne Clement, Mommy tells the story of Steve (Antoine-Olivier Pilon), a rebellious, possibly dangerous teenager who after nearly killing a boy at some kind of boarding school is discharged to the care of his mother, Die (Dorval).  They both befriend their neighbor, Kyla (Clement), a former teacher who has developed a condition where she is unable to speak without a debilitating stutter.  The film begins with an epigraph telling us that the film is set in a fictional Canada where if a parent is unable to care for their child they can be involuntarily committed to a state run mental hospital.  Let’s just say once those words come on screen you pretty much know where this is going.  But, wow, the journey there is more exhilarating and devastating that I even imagined.  

Mommy is operatic, charismatic and almost schizophrenic much like Steve, a live wire of unbridled emotion.  When we first meet Steve, we are terrified because of the things his mother and his counselor have said about him in the opening scene of the film.  But, when we meet him he seems just like an overgrown kid, scared, funny, charismatic.  It isn’t until later that we discover his true potential for danger.   Quickly the situation escalates with Steve nearly fighting with a black cab driver over his racist comments.  Pilot and Dorval have a natural chemistry that tows the line perfectly between loving and creepy.  At times Di seems more like a friend then a parent, desperately trying to relate to Steve but also intensely worried about him and frightened of him.  Eventually Steve and Die get into an incredibly terrifying, violent fight and Diane has to barricade herself in the basement.  After she gets the courage to emerge, she finds Steve in the garage with Kyla tending to his wounds. Kyla is reluctant to get involved with the family but once she does, she is able to bring stability and hope to Di and Steve’s home. Again, her relationship with them is ambiguous, we see the flicker of romantic feelings between Steve and her but Dolan is clever enough to never follow up on that, instead keeping the relationship caring and loving with a hint of something more.  This paradise they have found in one another is unsustainable and eventually we learn that Steve and Die can’t escape their past actions.  Fate has been barreling towards them all along, they were just too busy to notice. 

Dolan has always been an incredibly flamboyant filmmaker and Mommy is no different.  Mommy is presented in a 1:1 ratio, what that means is that for nearly all of the film, the picture is a small square in the middle..  The effect is divisive and challenging to the viewer but I quickly got used to it and found that it was able to highlight the way the characters feel trapped in their lives.  Perhaps the single most euphoric moment of the movie is when Steve, finally feeling happy and free, pushes the aspect ratio out with his arms and the glorious full screen envelops the scene. It feels like you have been holding your breath and you can finally breathe, the viewer feels the same dizzy happiness that Steve feels in that moment, quite simply it is one of the most stunning filmmaking sequences of the last decade.  Moments later, Di receives news that will alter their lives forever and begins to put in motion the inevitable fate we have been anticipating since that opening epigraph. Music also plays a huge part in the production and emotion of the film, something that Dolan has excelled at since the beginning.  From the Celine Dion dance sequence where we see Kyla beginning to open up to Oasis’  “Wonderwall” playing during the shift in aspect ratio, Dolan makes the music so inextricably linked to the scenes that you cannot separate them in your mind.  

Mommy is the kind of movie that overwhelms you with emotion, the performances are big but hold back just enough to be the best kind of melodrama,  there are fights, attempted suicide, incredible fantasy sequences and total heartbreak.  Dolan’s films are never the kind you can be ambivalent about, he wants you to be screaming and crying and laughing just like the characters.  And with Mommy, you do.  Mommy should be a dour film in so many ways, that epigraph warns us exactly what will happen and we know the film is leading to tragedy for this family.  But instead of tragedy, we see joy, instead of death, there is life, instead of the world closing in on us, it opens gloriously. 

Julie