Notes from the Weekend.

After somehow managing to live without one for five months, Christina and I finally bought a microwave on Saturday. So, hooray for us, right? Now I can heat up leftover pizza and it won't take twenty minutes. I bet this is how my grandparents felt, if they ate pizza.

I watched No End in Sight on Saturday, which was very good, and will / should probably win the Oscar for Best Documentary. It's a very calm, well-paced study on how the United States completely bungled the war in Iraq, as told by people who were placed in charge of that country after we invaded and "accomplished" our mission. The idea that we fucked up isn't necessarily new, but the levels of incompetency and the poor planning are just astounding. The whole mess is probably a good example of why I am so cynical about political motivation these days; I spent so much energy worrying and fretting about the invasion five(!) years ago, and I saw how there was absolutely nothing I could do to make my voice heard or make an impact on the outcome. The administration was determined to do what they did, and they succeeded in screwing it all up. In any case, I expect this to be one of the defining early examinations of the war, as powerful (and hopefully not as forgotten) as Hearts and Minds.

On Saturday night, John and I went to see There Will Be Blood, which was simply stunning and blew me away. From the opening screeches of Jonny Greenwood's fantastic score (which I have since purchased on iTunes) to the final shocking image of Daniel Plainview's bowling alley, I sat there in awe of a chunk of perfection on film. Daniel Day-Lewis is masterful in the lead role, and Paul Dano is completely perfect as Eli Sunday. Paul Thomas Anderson is a simply astounding director who has proven he can't be put into one box. The movie has shot to the top of my list of films from 2007, and I'm struggling to figure out if I actually like it more than No Country for Old Men. You must see it, and you won't forget it.

After seeing TWBB, John and I watched Factory Girl. I was interested in seeing it, but I will admit that I didn't have great hopes for it. I wasn't surprised that I wasn't a fan. As Adam has said, the biopic genre is getting rather old. And it's one thing to watch a biographic film about a musician, actor, or a writer, but it's hard for me to even remotely care about the poor little society girl who flirted with the underground(?) art scene in 1960s New York. Try as it might, the film didn't make Edie Sedgwick seem like an interesting person; she was a mess before she started abusing drugs, and it was almost easier for me to watch her after the heroin than before. I've never been anything more than the casual Andy Warhol fan; I've always viewed his art as, well, poppy - it serves its purpose as "cool imagery," but I can't really say that I've been blown away by it. The movie seemed to be confused about who was the bigger asshole: Andy or Bob Dylan (who was played anonymously - as Dylan threatened to sue the filmmakers for defamation - by Hayden Christensen, who made me long for the five actors in I'm Not There again). Perhaps my cold, cold heart (and watching both The Wire and, more importantly, The Corner) have made me care less about rich girls who screw up their lives with drugs, but I just can't find any sympathy for Edie Sedgwick, who was basically a pretty face with a messed-up mind hiding behind it.