I can’t believe there are this many, actually.
So good. Love. Life. Loss. Gain. Revolucion. Dizzy Gillespie. Sex. Shoe-throwing. All in cartoon form!
It’s like Disney for people whole like to listen to NPR and say offhandedly, “You know, I was recently watching a cartoon about the jazz movements in pre and post-revolution Cuba” and make everyone roll their eyes. The only people worse than people who absolutely cannot stop talking about the artistic integrity of this film and how amazing it was are those people who listen to Buena Vista Social Club and who can even tell you their favorite song (Dos gardenias per te .) Those people who would call the movie visually stunning and full of heart.
God, I hate those people.
The semester ended for me last night and I went crazy by cleaning the house and intermittently watching Pocahontas. That movie seems different now.
Play this as you read:
“In 1986, I wanted two things. Freedom and meat. There was a deficit on meat. And there was a deficit on freedom, too,” begins the quirky 2011 movie My Dad is Baryshnikov (мой папа барышников), which Mr. B and I saw last night at the Philadelphia Jewish Film Festival. ”Although,” the adult narrator continues to remember, “it was exactly in this year that we first heard of a word called perestroika.”
Why do we care about people we’ve never met?
Why do we cry over fictional characters that die? Why do we listen to gossip about our neighbors? And why do we skim the headlines of those magazines at the grocery store checkout line? What is it about human empathy that makes us this way?
It’s something I’ve been trying to figure out after seeing Argo, Ben Affleck’s brilliant new movie about the Iranian hostage crisis of 1979.