Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts

Monday, June 3, 2013

moonrise kingdom, a year later


Of course I saw Moonrise Kingdom when it first came out.  And I loved it.  I'm a Wes Anderson fan.  His films are often dismissively put in the "quirky" category.  Yet each of his films seems to me like a carefully crafted object, every detail from the set design to the clothing to the music to the color of the light perfectly chosen.  

I just watched Moonrise for a second time.  I didn't do a blog post after I first saw it.  Everybody else was.  And I couldn't blame them.  A film set on an idyllic New England island in the mid 1960s--and made by Wes Anderson--was going to be full of fantastic styling, both the sets and clothing.  

I do often watch favorite films more than once, and it's the rare one that I love just as much or even more the second time.  Moonrise falls in this category.  It could very well be that part of this is the fact that Mr. Anderson and I are the same age (well I'm three months older), but his vision of childhood takes me right back into my own.  The importance of books and music, a fantasy life, the somewhat frightening specter of adulthood lurking around the corner...and yet the desire to grow up and be independent.  Wes Anderson captures this better than anybody.  Watching this film--Suzy looking out at the island with her binoculars, or sitting and reading her beloved books--reminded me so much of my own younger self, spending a day reading in a chair or playing dress up with old clothes.

On a far less deep and thoughtful level, the often gray and rainy New England beach setting, and the Bishops' wonderful, slightly ramshackle and eccentric home, remind me of where I live now...in a house in frequently gray and rainy Michigan, on a lake, in a somewhat ramshackle and eccentric, yet cozy home.

I know what you really want to see are pictures.  Enjoy, and if you haven't seen Moonrise Kingdom yet, do.  Or go and watch it again.

The cast--which includes Bill Murray, Frances McDormand, Tilda Swinton, and Edward Norton--is amazing.  And the two newcomers playing young lovers Sam and Suzy are perfect.  Their (signature Anderson) deadpan delivery is spot on, and both young actors are charming as heck. 


Jared Gilman as Sam wears a coonskin cap with his scouting outfit, excellent thick horn rimmed glasses, and a brooch that belonged to his deceased mother.  He's pretty tough and strong for a young fellow...well, he's had to be.  (As he tells Suzy when she says she wishes she could have been an orphan, as their lives--in books--seem more special: "I love you, but you don't know what you're talking about.")  Sam also has a  little corncob pipe that, along with those glasses, gives him an air of wise old adventurer.


Kara Hayward as Suzy wears little mod dresses with contrasting white cuffs and collars, knee socks, and blue eyeshadow and heavy black eyeliner--she's girlish, but stretching toward womanhood.  She also wears a red beret with a pink Inverness coat (just like my other favorite movie character last year, Dr. King Schultz!).  Suzy is a pretty serious girl; her candy colored clothing helps show that despite her seeming maturity, she is still firmly planted in childhood.  And she has her own wisdom to impart, having watched her parents' marriage founder: "Being married.  Sometimes it seems sad to me.  It might be better just to go steady permanently."


Frances McDormand, as Suzy's mother Laura, wears a succession of easy shift dresses in very Lilly Pulitzer-esque prints (perhaps they are Pulitzers) with chunky sweaters or a windbreaker, head scarf, and great shades.  She's a stylish, but not at all fussy, mom.


Bill Murray as dad Walt wears crazy print pants.  I wouldn't be surprised if he had some Lilly Pulitzer pants in his wardrobe.  Laura and Walt are both lawyers, but are dressed like lawyers on vacation.  I wouldn't be surprised if Bill Murray actually wore pants like this in real life.


Narrator/weather commentator Bob Balaban in a fantastic red wool coat, green knit cap, and more excellent horn rimmed glasses.  Note the touch of plaid lining his coat's hood.


The sets and settings are just as fantastic as the clothing.  


I love the plaid on the stairs, the rose pattern rug on the floor, the trees and birds painted on the walls, and the arched doorways.  The striped sofa.  Yeah, I love it all.  When can I move in?



Suzy reading while her brothers play music.  More on the music later...but first: what does Suzy read?


Even Suzy's books are rendered in great detail.  I love these faux book covers--particularly The Francine Odysseys.


And check out plaid robed Ed Norton in his plaid tent.  (There's a touch of plaid in nearly every one of these shots.  I think Mr. Anderson likes plaid as much as I do!)


Last, but not least, the music in Moonrise Kingdom brings the whole film to another level.  Twangy Hank Williams songs underline lovelorn Duffy Sharp's (Bruce Willis) longing for Laura Bishop.  Suzy and Sam dance in their underwear on the beach to Francoise Hardy.  The Bishop children have a portable record player (an object of much conflict amongst them) on which they listen to Benjamin Britten's "The Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra."

And best of all?  The local church puts on a charming production of Britten's "Noye's Fludde," (fitting, as the movie is set during a massive storm) with the children dressed in animal costumes.  This music, and Britten's "Cuckoo" both figure prominently in the film.  I'd never listened to Britten before, but I fell completely and fully in love with the music.  It fits into the film so brilliantly.  Anderson said he and his brother were in a production of "Noye's Fludde" when they were young, and he says it very much influenced the film.



Just as I was shocked that Up could have beaten out Fantastic Mr. Fox at the Oscars, this year I couldn't believe that Moonrise Kingdom didn't get a best picture nomination (much less win).  I can't wait until Anderson's next film, The Grand Budapest Hotel.  And I'll also throw this wish out to the universe:  I would dearly love to see my favorite actor, Christoph Waltz, in a Wes Anderson film.

Waiting impatiently for The Grand Budapest Hotel...

xo



Monday, March 19, 2012

i was cool before it was cool

When I was a kid, I never wanted to grow up.  Why would I?  When the styles were so...consistently...awesome.  For example:

...pom pom hats, Keds, and windbreakers for kite-flying.
...gingham and calico.
...ruffles and Peter Pan collars.
...girly dresses, knee socks, t-straps, and hair bows (check out Jesus hailing my awesome fashion sense...he's probably psyched about the giant handmade cross I'm rocking a la Flava Flav).



...pig tails with yarn bows and a disco shirt.
...pink plaid and a Dorothy Hamill haircut.
...cute little dresses and wedge rope sandals.
...smocking, swiss dots, and chunky initial necklaces.



...knee socks with shorts.  ALWAYS.
...little side braids and Gunne Sax-ish floral print blouses.
...Peter Pan collars, curled hair, major brace face.
...matching dad and daughter track suits--pre-Royal Tenenbaums.

xo
K

Thursday, August 4, 2011

summer camp

My dad and a couple of stylish gals at Camp Don Bosco, late 1940s-early 1950s.



My parents sent me to summer camp in the mountains of Colorado when I was 12.  This was a somewhat traumatic experience for me.  It was the first time I was away from home for more than a night or two.


Recycled journal by StoriesDivinations on Etsy.



I was very homesick.  And when my parents sent me a box with my favorite stuffed animal in it, it made it worse!


1970s plaid-trimmed camp blouse, by simplicityisbliss on Etsy.



I did not know anyone at camp other than my sister, who was with the other nine-year-olds.  I was shy, gawky, and still somewhat tomboy-ish at age 12.  The other 12-year-old girls showed up at camp with lip gloss and hair dryers with which to blow dry their feathered 'dos.  They all seemed to know each other already.  And then I got my period.  It wasn't my first period, but I wasn't prepared for it.


Poison Ivy lip balm by ForStrangeWomen.


My grandmother, Edna, and my dad, camping in a teepee, 1940s.



There were horses at camp, but I seemed to be the single girl who did not harbor a fascination for these beasts.  I was terrified of falling off.  And if you're not already thinking "future sociopath," guess what camp activities I enjoyed and excelled at?  Yep.  Archery and rifle range.

Vintage Dinah Sheridan photo via Performing Arts / Artes EscĂ©nicas' Flickr stream.



But all my camping experiences were not miserable.  I had lots of fun times camping with my dad and friends in our Indian Princess/Trailmates groups.  (For those unfamiliar, this is a YMCA-sponsored father/daughter quality time program, a la the Girl Scouts.  Only lots more fun and with an unfortunate appropriation of Native American culture, though it looks like the Y is getting with the times and is now calling the program Adventure Guides and Princesses.)  Growing up in Colorado meant amazing camping opportunities in the world's most beautiful places, from the Rocky Mountains to the Great Sand Dunes. 


Cute little German cabins/cottages from MademoiselleChipotte.




After I moved to New York, camping trips meant escapes from the city with a large group of friends, sitting around the fire all night, drinking beer, and narrowly missing getting kicked out of the campsite for being too loud.  Oh, and there was also a spring break trip to New Orleans where we camped at a site within the city and heard gunshots.  This didn't phase us though.  We lived and went to school in the Bronx.


Vintage kerosene lantern, from calloohcallay.

Edna making camp coffee, 1950s.


I haven't camped since leaving New York, which is kind of odd, considering I live in Michigan--basically an outdoor wonderland.  The closest I've come is staying in a cabin at Legs Inn after a night of beer and Polish food!  And really, that's kind of my style of camping after all, I think.

xo
K

Monday, January 3, 2011

breakfast nostalgia



When Andy was little, his mom Darlene would make him a poached egg over Dutch rusk (a.k.a. crispbake or beschuit, in the Netherlands) for a special breakfast treat. Andy's family is Polish-American, but western Michigan is full of people of Dutch extraction, so you can easily find things like rusk and salty black licorice in the grocery stores here. (Well, to be expected, when your major local grocer is called Meijer!)






Rusk on its own is not very appealing. It's basically a large, round, extremely dry toast. But when you make rusk with poached egg a la Darlene, it turns into something quite heavenly and very comforting! Andy made me this lovely breakfast this morning. Here's how you prepare it (you could, I suppose, substitute very dry, stale, thick toast for the rusk if you can't find it):

1) Put two rusks with a small pat of butter on each, in a bowl.
2) Soft-poach an egg.
3) When egg is almost done, ladle a few tablespoons of the poaching water on the rusk to soften it slightly. (Andy likes his like mush; I prefer mine a bit crisper.)
4) Put egg on top, and salt and pepper it. Enjoy!


xo
K&A

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