Review: Dr. Parnassus

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I have seen some strange films in my day. Some I’ve enjoyed, and others made me think, “Hm. That was two and a half hours I’ll never get back.”

But this one — The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus — takes a couple of cakes. Not only is it the weirdest movie I’ve seen in quite awhile, but its peculiarity (and huge requirement for the audience to suspend disbelief and accept profound anachronisms) ended up being what I actually liked most. I enjoyed this bit of odd from the mind of Terry Gilliam, who is no stranger to weird, having written the Python television series & films, Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, Time Bandits, 12 Monkeys, and The Adventures of Baron von Munchausen.

Knowing precious little about the film before we watched it, we were a bit confused by the opening scene — When does this take place? What year? — not to mention the impossible physics of two horses drawing a skinny wagon built two stories high. And that’s just the first 30 seconds of the story.

The plot develops around a troupe of travelling vaudeville players, out of place and out of touch in modern-day London. The 1,000-year-old Dr. Parnassus (the ubiquitous Christopher Plummer — I still don’t see him as anyone but Captain Von Trapp) and his two gorgeous young assistants attempt to scrape together a living by showing bafflingly apathetic street audiences their wildest dreams come true, if only they’ll step into the doctor’s magic mirror.

Their fortunes turn for the better when they take on Tony, the Hanging Man, played wonderfully by Heath Ledger, in his last-ever role. (Gilliam is to be congratulated for deftly and almost seamlessly working in Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell to play Ledger’s character in subsequent scenes, filmed after Ledger’s death.) Things get really interesting when the Devil — played by Tom Waits, who unfortunately can only play bad guys — arrives.

The movie has a bizarre, dark, almost depressing feel — kind of like Tim Burton doing Lewis Carroll. (Oh, wait…) Little person Verne Troyer adds a rather misplaced comic presence, with his hard American accent and distinctly 21st-century delivery. But somehow, it all works.

I’d say if you haven’t seen it, try it. After the first 15 minutes or so, the story becomes easier to follow. And one of the characters turns out to be someone totally different than you thought at the beginning, so the predictability element is diminished.

Even the Thriller liked it, and he is often the first to poo-poo something that strikes him as pointless or predictable. I was impressed that he immediately saw something in the plot (involving a metal whistle) that I totally didn’t get.

Surprise!

Edit: Yipes! Forgot to close with my Rat-O-Meter rating. On the scale of one to five cheeses, I give Doctor Parnassus:

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So, happy 4th of July to all my American fiends. *kA-BLaM*

More beautiful balloons

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Last year at this time, I took photos of our annual Balloonfest participants, moving gracefully across the morning sky above my house. They were completely silent, save for the flame jets they needed to release every once in awhile to maintain lift. (The sound drove Rousseau nuts. ACK.) Anyway, it was a lovely sight. Maybe I’ll see some more this morning.

This year, I caught the balloons on film as they passed in the early evening last night. They came so close, it looked like they might tangle in power lines or land on someone’s rooftop. It was fun to watch. (Rousseau still hated it.)

Some pretty pictures:

I hope your weekend starts off lovely as well. Time for the coffee. That’s the ticket.

FO

Review: the nook

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Yes, it finally arrived, and though I’ve had very limited opportunities to play with it, I already like it. Here’s my take:

The first item to remember is that this thing reads like a real book. That is to say there is no “backlighting” on the screen. What you see in the pale afternoon light is what you get. It’s like reading an actual book in the evening — you’re going to need to shine some light on it.

I think the hardest thing for me to get used to was that it is not a computer or smartphone. It doesn’t act like one with regard to feel, light, response or speed. So a minor realignment of expectations is necessary at the get-go, especially if you have a fast touch-screen phone or tablet computer that you’re accustomed to using. I’m assuming it’s pretty much that way for all e-readers.

This is a relatively accurate representation (on my monitor, at least) of the brightness of the nook screen. This photo was taken in the early evening, with one lamp turned on in the living room:

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Here’s a view of when I sat right next to the lamp:

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Truthfully — I could stand for the screen to be a leeeeetle bit brighter. But that’s likely just my horrible eyesight. Not a deal breaker. And the text renders beautifully outside in the sunlight — no screen glare or whiteout issues.

The page turn transitions are nice, but again, it’s not like swiping to the next menu on your Droid or iPhone. I’m not a page ripper in real-book life; I take my time, so this was no biggy. I shot a quick & dirty Flip video, illustrating both ways to advance the pages:

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The Wi-Fi connection is cool — it picked up the wireless signal in my house right away. I also got the 3G for on the road, which will be nice. Here’s a shot of searching the B & N store, again with no direct light shining on the screen:

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Again, you’re going to need a lamp or a book light to read in the darkness. B & N sells a clip-on model called the Lyra for $15, but my cheapy little GE book light did the job, too. I turned off all the lights, pulled down the shades and took this photo:

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You can change fonts and sizes, of course. (I don’t particularly love serifs, so I chose the smoothy font.) The pictures above show the “large” version of the font.

I haven’t had it long enough to measure battery life with the Wi-Fi and 3G on, so maybe Helen or BoomR could comment on that. I look forward to taking this little gem on the road.

Yay, it’s Finkday for all you people with real jobs.

Lost morning

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At first, we thought it was kind of funny. But as I learned more about what went on, it isn’t so ha-ha anymore. In fact, I’ve been drowning in alternating feelings of anger, embarrassment, and betrayal.

I’m talking about having my memory stolen.

On Tuesday of this week, I went in for an endoscopy/colonoscopy. Nasty tests, and I’m glad they put you “out” for them. I recall the nurse telling me, “We’re going to start your medication now.” I’m like, “Go for it…I don’t want to know what’s going on anyway.”

The next thing I remember is being at home, almost four hours later.

OK, recap. At 10:30 a.m., a lady was talking to me in a dark room. Then, blackness. When the world comes into view again, it’s 2:00 in the afternoon and I’m walking to the sofa in my living room.

Here is a list of things I (reportedly) did after the procedure:

  1. Met with the doctor
  2. Chatted with the nurses
  3. Signed a release form
  4. Got out my phone and put a follow-up date in my Droid’s calendar
  5. Got dressed
  6. Walked to the car
  7. Conversed with the Thriller on the ride home

Now I’ve had a total of 13 different surgeries in my life. I am no stranger to the effects of anesthesia, and I’ve had all kinds of knock-out drugs. But I knew something about this was totally different. It wasn’t Valium or Demerol, and it obviously wasn’t Propofol (the drug on which Michael Jackson overdosed) because there was no anesthesiologist present. So what went on?

When the Thriller told me all the things I did, and got to the part about me putting a date in my Droid, I didn’t believe him. He said, “Get out your phone and look.” The horror I experienced when I saw that I had indeed done it is difficult to describe.

Well, that evening, a nurse from the doctor’s office called to check on me. After the pleasantries, I asked, “Hey, I’m curious. What kind of sedative was I given for the test?” She said, “It’s called Versed [pronounced ver-SED].” I told her I hadn’t heard of that before, and that it’s strange but I have absolutely no recollection of anything after being brought into the endoscopy room. She chuckled and said, “Yes, Versed causes amnesia; it’s kind of like the date-rape drug,” meaning rohypnal, or “ruffies.”

(Oh, really. Then that explains why, when I was being admitted, the nurse asked me, “Do you trust the person who drove you here today?” I said, “Well sure…he’s my husband.” I thought to myself, what an odd question to ask someone. She went on to instruct me — and she said it at least twice before I started the prep session — “Do not make any important decisions today. Do not sign any legal documents or make any large transactions.” Whaaat? Well, it’s clear to me now, since the fog has lifted.)

Anyway, I was gobsmacked after the “date-rape drug” reference. I made some fool comment, I don’t know, about having to ask my husband five times what the doctor said he found in the test, thanked her, and signed off the call. I can’t describe to you how I felt. Well, yeah I can. I felt violated — like something was taken from me without my permission. I decided to shake it off, but the curiosity lingered, so I did some research. Turns out Versed isn’t the happy la-la juice people might think it is. I know everyone reacts differently to medications, and I was one of the fortunate ones who did not experience the horrors many others endured — namely, the waking up inside your head in excruciating pain, but not being able to wake up your body to scream out loud. Right there is what every surgical patient fears, I think.

Now I’m not a Chicken Little, and I don’t believe everything I read on the Internet. But having gone through this experience myself, I can see where these people in the above post are coming from. Moreover, to some, it may not matter that there is a black hole in their day. But the fact I said and did things I don’t remember (one of them rather embarrassing, involving me saying something about my husband in mixed company that I would never say normally) bugs me. Really bugs me. Taking away my self-control is not funny to me.

So there it is — a rare “serious” post from the Fink. But in the public interest, I thought I ought to bring you up to speed, so when it’s your turn to have these tests — and if it isn’t yet, it will be one day — you’ll know what to ask. This drug was not mentioned anywhere in the pre-procedure paperwork that I signed. Nowhere in the document did I see the phrase, “You will have no memory of large blocks of time.” Well I can tell you that it’s not going to happen again.

Next time I have one of these tests (and I will have more…the joys of being over 50), I am going to insist on another medication, or even on having an anesthesiologist there and going the Propofol route. Anything other than Versed. Anyone who knows me knows that I am firmly against anything that steals people’s joy. I have been largely a joyless creature for the past two days, and I’m ready to quit it. It wasn’t altogether harrowing, and nobody died, and the world goes on, and the sun is shining and life is good…but the Versed thing ain’t happening again.

I read on one blog that people who object to Versed are “pansies.” I wear the badge proudly:

Now let’s have a good Thurgsday, shall we? Jake and Justin this morning, then lunch with Rae, dinner with the Thriller, and at some point, shopping with Mavis. I’m going to “forget” about the bad stuff.

:-)

Another Chrome convert

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This morning, I accidentally clicked on an old Google Chrome icon on my desktop, which of course brought up the browser (I’d installed it but never used it).

Hmm….nice.

I’d always dismissed the Chrome claim that it was the fastest browser — faster than Firefox, which I have used since the day it appeared in beta form for public download over five years ago — believing  that no piece of software could really improve on speed that much. Well — I think I was wrong.

So I spent some time fooling around with Chrome this morning. You know, it really is faster. Firefox was starting to bug me a little with its feature creep and extension bloating issues. Chrome is slick and quick, no lie. You might want to try it for yourself. Mac users can, too.

On an unrelated note: thanks to all my RtB fiends who posted nice thoughts on Facebook and sent emails about my icky tests yesterday. All is well in the cancer department — as in, there is none. Now the doc will search for other clues (hopefully using less invasive tests).

Happy, um…I don’t even know what day it is.

Fink, in summer mode

PS – I am putting this ad on my site (the only ad I will ever put on my site) because if somebody signs up through the link, I get 3 months of hosting for free. Such a deal. It helps keep finkweb going. These folks have been good to me, so use them with my highest recommendation, should you ever want to start a little world of your own on the Internets.



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