mercredi 30 septembre 2009

Tarantino au top de sa forme


Quoi de mieux qu'un Tarantino pour combattre la morosité de la rentrée? Epoustouflée par Kill Bill (j'avais fini la séance du premier volume que je courais faire la queue pour le second, enchaînant ainsi trois heures de Tarantino), je n'ai pas pourtant pas vu ses derniers films, le film d'horreur n'étant pas mon genre de prédilection.

Mais un film sur la dernière guerre mondiale, avec en tête d'affiche Brad Pitt et Mélanie Laurent, je me suis laissée tentée, et bien m'en prit. Tarantino étant manifestement enthousiasmé par ce qu'il fait, le film dure 2h33mn, mais un épisode de certaines séries (au hasard Plus Belle la Vie) ou certains films (au hasard Pierrot le Fou) m'ont paru durer une éternité alors que je n'ai pas vu le temps passer devant Inglorious Basterds.

Tarantino est au mieux de sa forme, et cela donne un excellent film, mais cela reste un Tarantino. Cela veut dire qu'il y a de la violence (mais très modérée pour un Tarantino), un esprit totalement décalé qu'il faut aimer (mais l'humour au sixième degré, cela me connaît), et enfin, il faut pouvoir plaisanter sur cette période. On se souvient de la polémique qu'avait engendré La vie est Belle de Benigni...

Pour peu que vous correspondiez à ces critères, vous allez passer 2h30 de pur bonheur. Si Brad Pitt est un bon acteur, ses performances semblent être plus ou moins bonnes selon les metteurs en scène, et Tarantino semble avoir su révéler une de ses meilleures performances. Qui eut cru que Brad puisse être aussi drôle? Face à lui, Christoph Waltz semble également s'en donner à coeur joie, et mérite amplement sa récompense cannoise. Je pourrais continuer des heures durant tant le casting est excellent (et/ou excellement dirigé), et l'écriture du scénario savoureuse.

En résumé, la cuvée Tarantino 2009 st excellente, et vous auriez tort de vous en priver!

samedi 26 septembre 2009

Américain pur jus


Mon entourage en ayant probablement marre de m'entendre dire que je voulais gagner au loto, il m'a conseillé (très fortement) The Secret, de Rondha Byrne. Apparemment ce livre vous apporte la solution à tous vos problèmes.

J'ai toujours été fascinée par les rayonnages de self-help books dans les librairies américaines. Vous êtes nain mais voulez devenir mannequin? Aucun souci, il y a un livre. Vous voulez devenir millionnaire? Pas de problème non plus. Quelle que soit la question, il y a la réponse.

Rhonda Byrne a eu l'idée (business wise) géniale de tout rassembler en un mot (et un concept). Au lieu d'acheter un livre qui ne traite qu'un thème, vous achetez son livre, qui répond à toutes ses questions.

200 pages pour que l'auteur nous dise que pour avoir ce qu'on veut, il faut 1) le vouloir vraiment et 2) consacrer son énergie à ce but, c'est une honte. Tout être censé sait qu'on a rien sans rien et que la volonté, l'effort et une pensée positive sont les clés pour atteindre les buts voulus.

Mais le pompon, outre les nombreux témoignages bidons qui sont censés vous démontrer la théorie mais qui sont complétement creux, est que l'auteur vous explique que vous pouvez avoir tout ce que vous voulez à condition de le désirer vraiment. Si mes souvenirs de fac sont bons, on m'a toujours dit que les objectifs fixés devaient être atteignables, mais manifestement l'univers nous donne ce qu'on veut. Personnellement cela fait 20 ans que je veux vraiment gagner au loto, et ressembler à Gisele (ou Kate, je ne suis pas exigeante), et j'aurais beau faire tous les efforts possibles, j'ai assez peu de chance que cela arrive (même en me camant).

Cependant si le livre est un tant soi peu fascinant, c'est qu'il reflète parfaitement la philosophie américaine: tout est possible à condition de s'en donner les moyens. Et l'autre philosophie: tout est bon pour gagner de l'argent: même écrire un best-seller 200 pages uniquement basé sur du vent.

Mais franchement avec mes 18 euros, j'aurais mieux fait de m'acheter des tickets de loto, j'aurais eu plus de chance de me rapprocher de mon but.


jeudi 24 septembre 2009

Bonifacio


After the beaches of Porto Vecchio we wanted to explore a different side of the region. And what better destination than Bonifacio? It is a town dramatically perched on top of 200 feet high cliffs of limestone. Thanks to such height, there are wonderful views from almost every point on the Ville Haute. From here we also got a glimpse of Sardinia, which lies a mere 12 kilometers away. Given its proximity to Italy, its not surprising to learn that its name comes from Bonifacio, the Marquis of Tuscany who gave the town his name in 828. That said, it didn’t stop other European leaders from coveting the little town and it was the site of many sieges, most notably in 1420 by King Alfonso V of Aragon. A souvenir of that siege is the famous stairway of 187 steps cut into the cliff-side supposedly cut by the King’s soldier’s in one night.

Nowadays, Bonifacio is well and truly recovered from the many sieges that have taken place. The narrow cobbled stones are perfectly restored and many houses, despite their rather humble facades go as high up as 5 storeys. Amidst all the remaining medieval houses are shops selling tourist souvenirs and handicrafts. And at night, the citadel is hauntingly lit while the port area bustles with cool restaurants and cafes.


One can really appreciate the harbor from vantage point of the Ville Haute

Views of the old town


And a photo of what has to be one of the striking sights found in Corsica

Corsican Beaches

We are now officially in autumn. . As I write though, the sky remains stubbornly blue, albeit with threatening gray clouds and the temperature is still not quite sweater weather. Summer can’t quite release its grip yet. For most of us though, summer holidays are but a distant but beloved memory that will keep us warm and cheered during the long cold months.

With that thought in mind, I’m happy to think that I stocked up on that all essential Vitamin D during our summer holidays in the South of France. More than any other part of the country, the South of France is the blessed land when it comes to sunshine and sea. When most of the country is submerged under rain and fog, the South of France seems to escape the worst of it. Little wonder then that hordes of people descend its sunny shores every summer. But more of that will come in later posts...

This year, we went a little bit past mainland and headed towards Corsica. Our destination was the Southern part of Corsica, specifically Porto Vecchio with its spectacular beaches and the citadel town of Bonifacio. While Corsica is forever associated with its most famous son, the island itself is so much more. It is blessed with so much wild natural beauty that begs to be captured by lens much more sophisticated than mine. But such is its beauty that even lens as simple as mine does a good job of showing you the island’s natural beauty. The drive from the airport to Porto Vecchio reveals a dramatic landscape of a wild mountainous region with hardy trees growing out of what often seemed like sheer rock. There is nothing soft about the landscape; rather it is untamed and almost defiant of the elements. Here and there as we rounded a curve, we could spot the glistening blue of the Mediterranean sea

A glimpse of the Gulf of Corsica....


Porto Vecchio is a smallish town divided into the Ville Haute and its port. The town used to be a Genoese outpost and its primary product was salt. Nowadays the main industry is tourism as people gradually discover this corner of Corsica. There is a pretty little church with a tree -lined square in the middle of the town and there are a number of little alleys and back streets worth exploring as they are full of restaurants and interesting looking shops. Shopping however is not the main draw to Porto Vecchio. Rather it’s the town’s proximity to some spectacular beaches.


the church of Porto Vecchio


Upon some friends’ recommendation, we set off for St. Cyprien where lunch would be at this charming, hidden little restaurant right on the beach. Caveat…we would have to walk a bit to get to this gem of a restaurant. A bit of walk didn’t seem all that daunting except I failed to take into consideration the not inconsiderable heat of the day (35 degree heat will cook even the most intrepid walker, and I for one, am not even that intrepid). From the distance the little blue flag indicating our restaurant seemed very remote indeed. Nonetheless, we (I should say I) persisted and fortunately the walk is along very fine powdery white sand and as there was hardly anybody around, there is nothing to distract you from the sheer turquoise blueness of the sea. Here was the Mediterranean Sea in all its glory and as it folds into the horizon, there is an unbroken line between the sea and sky. There is no need to hurry anywhere, it is the perfect moment to enjoy. Arriving at the restaurant was almost anti-climatic except for the growling of my stomach, which reminded me that I was starving. Time enough after for swimming.


Le Cabane Bleu where we had lunch..
The calm waters of St. Cyprien with the boats that take you to other coves

If St. Cyprien was quiet and almost deserted, Palombaggia was much more crowded. It is one of the area’s most famous beaches and with good reason too. There is a sweep of long sandy beach dotted here and there with red granite rocks against which pine trees stand out. But as with St. Cyprien, the waters were clear and cool with hardly a current to fight against. Given the number of visitors, which descend every summer on Palombaggia, there are a good number of restaurants along the stretch of beach. One could easily spend the entire day here enjoying the sea and people watching while you are at it!


Palombaggia

lundi 14 septembre 2009

Sometimes all you need is a classic

Just before a trip, my favorite thing to do is to prepare my list of books to read. I inevitably end up bringing a huge pile, thereby increasing the weight of my luggage but at least I’m well armed against the onslaught of boredom while away from the comforts of home. Usually I take the newest ones on my shelf but this time around, I took Persuasion by Jane Austen. I had never read it yet despite its presence on my shelf for a good while now. It turned out to be a wonderful choice.

We learn quickly at the beginning of the book that Anne Elliot, the well pedigreed but over looked daughter of Sir William Elliot, had fallen in love, 7 years ago with Frederick Wentworth, a young and handsome sea captain. Unfortunately her father and sister were dissatisfied with her choice and persuade her to break off her engagement. Eight years later, still single and “past the first bloom of youth”, Anne re-encounters Captain Wentworth who has by this time acquired a handsome fortune of his own. And he hasn’t forgotten nor forgiven Anne’s treatment of him.

What a treat this novel is! I don’t know why I waited so long to read this one. It really shows Austen at her writing peak. And it’s a shame to realize that Persuasion is in fact the last novel she completed before her death in 1817. All the elements of an Austen novel are present—the snobbery of the English upper class and the ever present concern for rank and fortune, an engagingly elegant and smart heroine and a biting wit the skewers severely the social mores of Austen’s times. But above all these elements (which are all very fine) this is a novel about second chances at life and love. Her heroine has suffered a grievous loss and we feel it palpably through the strength of her gorgeous writing. It makes it even more poignant to read how Anne struggles to find her way into the grace of a miraculous second chance. We should all be so lucky!

What price for love?

This portrait of a woman seems innocuous enough but believe me when I say that she was once at the center of a huge scandal. Her name is Mamah (pronounced May-muh) Borthwick Cheney and she was a very much married woman and mother when she fell in love with the architect Frank Lloyd Wright after he was commissioned to build their family house. Needless to say this scandal wrecked Mamah's life and very nearly destroyed Wright's career.

Loving Frank by Nancy Horan is a fictional retelling of their story. The book details the trajectory of their relationship until its ultimately tragic ending.

Such a subject matter could have easily turned mawkish and overly sentimental if not for Horan’s careful portrait of Mamah. She doesn’t overly deal with sentimentality or emotion. Instead she paints a portrait of a woman who is constrained by the roles imposed on her by society. During the early years of the 20th century, women were supposed to be wives and mothers but not much else. It was a time of great agitation for greater female emancipation and in society by such stalwarts as Charlotte Perkins Gillman, Emma Goldman and the Swedish feminist Ellen Key. Mamah with her husband and children was an aberration of those times because she wasn’t content with her lot. Though as her sister Liz, later acidly points out, “she had the kind of life most feminists would dream of having.” And the price Mamah pays indeed for daring to break free of the mold and insist on a kind of self-realization was a high one. At the end of the book, Horan leaves it up to us to decide whether her act was worth the price it cost her.

jeudi 10 septembre 2009

A night to remember


Last night, major cities in the US, UK, Italy, China, Brazil, India, Russia, Japan, France, Greece held a global celebration of fashion. Conceived by Vogue's Anna Wintour, in collaboration with the Council of Fashion Designers of America, Fashion's Night Out was designed as a global initiative to promote retail, restore consumer confidence and of course celebrate fashion. Here in Paris, the fancy stores in the golden triangle of Avenue Montaigne, rue Francois I and George V threw their doors wide open for the general public. Champagne flowed freely and in most of the stores a real party atmosphere reigned. People came out to have fun and be frivolous and maybe spot a celebrity or two.


To get in the stores, one needed to have an invitation. Once you had it in hand you pretty much could go everywhere. At least that's what we thought till we reached Montaigne Market where we were told that we need to have the "Montaigne Market" invite! Apparently too many of the hoi-polloi were in their store and they needed to do some crowd control. A bit surprising given the general idea behind the night. Oh well, not a moment more was wasted and we promptly moved towards Chanel where they were much more democratically welcoming the crowd. A flash of the invite and we were in. Lots of beautifully dressed people, all sporting the double C logos of course!

We meandered down to Pucci where we were treated to a mini-runway show. Really mini as there were only two models. It was fun nonetheless and it was nice to see the fall collection up front and personal. I think the Diane von Furstenberg store was the most fun. They had a great DJ playing funky tunes along with some cool musicians. And while there was copious Champagne, they likewise had hookah pipes and lots of sweet things to nibble on.

Pucci models




I'm sure there were a number of famous people swanning about but not being quite up to date with French celebrities, I didn't get to spot anyone. Not until of course we were headed towards the intersection of Avenue Montaigne and Francois I, and who should we see but Sebastian Chabal! Not quite who I was expecting ( I was thinking I would spot Carine Roitfeld!) but it was amazing to see the number of people posing with him. Even my friend had to have her photo with him!



I declined the photo op with Chabal but I couldn't resist the next "star" we saw. Call me groupie but when we spotted Karl Lagerfeld, I had to have my photo op with him! It wasn't my most dignified moment (though I didn't have to push so much to make my way towards him!), but the goal was achieved. And he even signed my Vogue Fashion Night Out invitation. Even though it was 9 in the evening, he still had his trademark dark glasses, and his mane is as snowy white as ever. What surprised me was how gracious he was with the hordes of people flashing their cameras at him and how patient he was with the people asking for his signature. I guess it takes years of practice.

I don't know if we contributed towards the lofty goal of promoting retail but we certain hit the mark in having fun while celebrating fashion!






dimanche 6 septembre 2009

The private lifes of Pippa Lee

Ecrit par Rebecca Miller (fille d'Arthur Miller et femme de Daniel Day-Lewis à la ville), le roman ne pouvait que faire des vagues. Ecrivain, realisateur, l'auteur n'en est pas à son premier essai, mais je n'ai pas trouvé que le remous provoqué était légitime.

Pippa Lee semble donc mener une vie rangée (sauf qu'elle a épousé un homme de trente ans de plus qu'elle, ce qui est déjà louche en soi dans la vraie vie). Sauf que le bonheur ne faisant pas vivre, il faut bien lui imaginer un passé sordide (d'où le titre). C'est un thème récurrent, et loin d'être inintéressant. Cependant étant particulièrement pessimiste, je pense que les gens ne changent pas du jour au lendemain (surtout quand de la drogue est impliquée), et l'histoire ne m'a donc absolument pas convaincue. Je pense que les gens peuvent changer certes (quoique), mais le chemin est long, et c'est d'ailleurs le cheminement qui est intéressant, pas le résultat.

Or l'auteur passe sur tout cela en vitesse. Le roman laisse un goût d'inachevé, tout semble survolé, ce qui donne pour résultat un désintéressement du lecteur quant au personnage. La bande-annonce semble bizarrement plus prometteur, avec un casting attirant, et pourtant je suis une partisane du "le livre est toujours mieux que le film". A vérifier donc le 11 novembre....

jeudi 3 septembre 2009

Eat, Pray, Love

Best-seller (au moins aux Etats-Unis, c'est le genre de bouquin qu'ils adorent), Eat, pray, love faisait partie de mes lectures "couleurs locales". Et comme Julia Roberts tourne en ce moment l'adaptation au cinéma, il était temps de me mettre à la page.

Après un divorce et une dépresson, Elizabeth Gilbert, journaliste, réussit quand même à se remettre sur pied et à négocier un contrat pour le récit de son année sabbatique (y-a-t-il un édteur intéressé par ma potentielle année sabbatique en Australie?). J'admire les Américains pour ça, ils ne perdent jamais le sens des affaires.

L'auteur décida donc de partager son année en trois temps (j'ai perdu l'explication spirituelle en route): quatre mois en Italie afin de manger, quatre mois en Inde afin de prier, et quatre mois à Bali afin de retrouver de retrouver un marabout (à mon avis, elle voulait juste se faire dorer la pilule, mais c'était difficile de faire avaler ça à un éditeur).

Le livre est loin d'être transcendant, mais il est assez drôle, et c'est un livre parfait pour les vacances. Le plus intéressant est probablement d'en parler autour de soi, car chaque personne semble se retrouver dans une ou l'autre partie. Manger, je maîtrise sans problème; Prier, beaucoup moins. Mais prier tous les jours de gagner au loto compte-t-il? Quand à l'amour, disons qu'avec un coeur aussi sec que le mien, c'est loin d'être mon point fort. Et pourtant, la partie que j'ai préféré probablement Bali parce qu'elle met à nu les individus, avec leurs faiblesses.

En tout cas l'expérience donne envie, même si je ne choisirais pas le même programme!