A pair of Paris stories

Over the course of the past few days, I finished reading The Paris Wife and finally got to see Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris (thanks to my friend Liz and her very well-timed Netflix arrival!).

Since both of these stories are about the expatriate writers and artists in 1920s Paris (Hemingway, Pound, Stein, The Fitzgeralds, etc.), I feel like I’ve been immersed in that  period with those people and it’s been a grand time, old sport!

Just as I suspected, I loved Midnight in Paris. Love, love, love, love. LOVE! (Please let me know if you require more emphasis in order to truly understand how much I liked this movie.) It was fun and beautiful and I felt like I could relate to the perception that the “golden age” is always in the past and how it feels like previous eras are always better than the present. I used to wish I had lived in the 1960s until I came to the conclusion that I’m probably too uptight to have participated in any of the fun stuff of that era anyway. (wah-wah)

I liked The Paris Wife too, but not enough to warrant any annoyingly repetitive exclamations of love. It was really interesting, but I didn’t like the narrator (Ernest Hemingway’s first wife) all that much – she didn’t seem like the type of woman Ernest would actually have fallen in love with. And even though it’s based on a true story, a lot of it just didn’t seem believable. Maybe because I couldn’t relate to their artistic, jet-setting lifestyle. Has anyone else read it and felt the same way? I will say that I really loved the ending and would still recommend reading it.

But here’s the thing – now I really want to go back to Paris. LIKE RIGHT NOW. And that’s probably not going to happen. I also would really love a chocolate croissant, which is a bit more feasible.

Ahh, c’est la vie…

Images from here and here.

Must-see movies

I used to think of myself as somewhat of a movie buff.

When the Academy Award nominations came out, I most likely would have seen the majority of the Best Picture nominees, with the exception of the scary ones. (For example, I have NOT seen 1991 winner The Silence of the Lambs. And you can’t make me!)

But that was back in the good ol’ days when a three-hour block of time in which I had nothing better to do was a frequent occurrence, the dollar amount of a movie ticket was still in the single digits, and I could be careless with money anyway because my parents were paying for everything.

Let me tell you something – times have changed!

Here. I’ll name every single movie I saw in the theater in 2011: The Help. We Bought a Zoo.

And THAT’S IT!!

Pathetic.

Now that the 2012 Best Picture nominees have been announced and I’ve only seen 10% of them (although considering my track record, one out of ten is pretty good!), it’s becoming clear that I have some major catching up to do. And while I want to see all of the nominees (except War Horse – I’d rather watch a psychopathic cannibalistic serial killer than an poor helpless animal experiencing any kind of trauma), there are two that I absolutely MUST see:

The Artist

Midnight in Paris

I can already tell just by looking at these stills that I’ll love both movies.

Get me to a theater!

All images via