Welcome to the Sticks - Movie Review

I used to date a woman, an attractive, successful woman, who had the attention span of a gnat. Conversations would be cruising right along and in the blink of a goldfish's eye, her focus would be on something else, be it a stunning sunset, a sideshow freak or a shiny new nickel on the ground. The conversation, having thus hit a snag, would come back on line when she, having lost track of her place in it, would inevitably utter "Wait, what?"

Today I begin a new aspect to this blog, one I hope to continue weekly with few snags, distractions and bumps along the way. This is the first of what I hope to be a weekly movie review. It's a relatively simple conceit - watch a movie, scatter some semi-coherent thoughts about the way it told its story and how successful I felt it was, and share.

Simple, no? Seemingly so, though I make no promises to the types of movies I will write about, what aspect of the film I might choose to dissect and whether it is even an actual review of the movie or more my personal reaction to it. My taste, similar to yours and the rest of the movie-going public's, is wildly diverse.

So what I'll do is start with a film that likely no one reading here has seen, but which most of you will in a year or two.

Wait, what?

I'll explain later.

This first film on the queue is the largest-grossing box office film in French history, a 2008 comedy called "Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis" (Welcome to the Sticks).

The whoosh you just felt was the vaccum of users hitting the "Back" button and moving on to a non-French-film-reviewing blog. For both of you who have stuck around though, here's the basic plot:

A middle-aged postal supervisor fakes a handicap in order to land a plush transfer to the French Riviera but it backfires and he is instead sent to the dreaded North of France, a province home to a presumed backwater people who speak in an almost unintelligible "Schticks" dialect.

A simple premise, really, and one that must be deftly handled by both director and actors in order to make the characters both human and comic while avoiding stock situations and thinly drawn stereotypes. While at first it appears to be headed for a film that makes the simple folk of the North seem foolish, soon enough we see that those same provincial attitudes of superiority are ripe for satirizing the Southerners and everyone in France is the true butt of the jokes for holding such notions of the other group, regardless of which character you best relate. While our hero initially lags into a depression for his unfortunate circumstance and falls victim to comic miscommunications with the locals in his new locale, his rocky relationship with his wife back home strengthens as she marvels at his ability to withstand the rigors of living in such a place, with such people. But what she doesn't realize, is that once her husband acclimates to his surroundings (and goes on a couple benders with his co-workers) he finds that the North is not such a bad place after all. He continues his charade with the help of his new friends, building to a climax when his wife decides she must move north and support his efforts. His attempts to hold onto his marriage, his job and learn a little about human nature are all tested as he figures out how he must come clean.

The central figure of the postal supervisor is obviously the key and, this being a French film, is played by an unassuming, middle aged man (think the French Larry David) who comes across perfectly as the put-upon everyman who only wants to do right by his family. It hits the mark in its slight, subtle humor mixed with some standard language-barrier jokes and a couple excellent moments of over-the-top and physical comedy. It doesn't try to overreach or get overly sentimental in its approach and while it occasionally asks the viewer to accept some scenarios that might seem questionable, it does so gently and moves on, never requiring a prolonged suspension of disbelief.

As for why I feel that eventually everyone will see this film, it is because the American rights have been bought by Will Smith and his production company, presumably so that it can be a vehicle for him. The fish-out-of-water premise and the themes of small town/big city, regional pride and acceptance of strange cultures are easily translatable to a wide American audience. Think "My Cousin Vinny" which explored all of them in the context of a comedic courthouse film, using the New York/Alabama juxtaposition. It will be interesting to consider the two regions (states, even?) that Smith might choose to set the film in here in the states. Any thoughts on what would be the best two? Alaska might have to be involved.

Trailer...

Cash Rules Everything Around Me

My regular cash game resumed after a several week summer hiatus and I pulled in a modest win, about 3/4 of a buy-in. It was one of those nights where I couldn't get in a normal pot so I had a somewhat interesting go of it. Early on, I landed two sets of 9s against the same player and more than doubled up, then ran wired jacks into wired aces on a 10 high flop and gave a bunch back. Flopped trip fives holding A5 off against KQ on a Q,5,5 flop only to have the river whitewash me with a two-outer Q to give my opponent the pot. Then a card dead period gave me a nice long stretch to keep an eye on the baseball game on the nearby television and grind my stack down to its starting point. A set of queens on a flush and straight draw-heavy flop (3rd time against the same player, who was a little shell shocked when I showed him, somewhat sheepishly, after he had folded) paid me modestly and then my biggest pot of the night came along. Under the gun in a straddled pot (1/2 NL) I look down at A,A and knowing that one of the next nine players is sure to raise the straddle, just limp. I get my wish immediately as the player to my left makes a tiny raise to 10. If asked, I couldn't have wanted anything more, since he is indicating a big hand with such a light raise and if anyone else peeks down at an interesting holding, they might pop it up again before it gets back to me. No such luck on that front, but two players do call the raise to 10 and it's my turn to act and I bump it to 55. Player to my left calls, the other two players clear way. Flop is perfect for me, 10 high rainbow. I lead out about 2/3 of the pot, $80 and my opponent shoves all in. I immediately call and he looks at me and says "Please don't turn over aces." I do, they hold against his K,K and I'm back to over double my buy in.

The hiatus of several weeks in this game has really shown me how familiarity with players in a regular game can be both good and bad. Not only do you have to know the ins and outs of the players and be wary of the deviation in their play based upon previously conceived notions of their moves, but the familiarity breeds a certain amount of complacency. I have more than a few times found my mind wandering instead of keeping track of preflop action or getting involved in lengthy conversations that distract from perhaps gleaning a little more information from my opponents. I'm not even talking about tells or betting patterns, but just certain styles of play from good, winning players that I could benefit from watching more closely and emulating.

It is nice to be back in the cash game though.

You Can't Sexy Dance To Punk Rock

You can't sexy dance to punk rock.

It's true, sort of. Being 6'5" I can't sexy dance, well, ever. It's just too much elbows, knees and feet to ever fit an acceptable definition of sexy.* But rare is the day you see me dancing and rare is the day that Superchunk plays a live show, so when I got word of the latter, I figured anything was possible.

The show being free was an added incentive to my sexy dancing potential, as it gave me that much more money to load up on drinks at the bar in the pre-show lead up. And in the crowd during the opener, Versus. And on the way back from a nearly-too-late run for the nearest bathroom, inconveniently located on the other side of the crowd, up a ramp, into a waterfront mall entrance, up an escalator and wound round a maze of stores. But with success (and more beer) in hand, I arrived back just as the 'Chunk finished their guitar tuning. Wasting no time in passing out beers to the crew that included DJ, L3K, the jaded scenester, Miss Annie and a couple others, I had one thought on my mind.

Sexy dancing.

Wait. No. Definitely no.

Superchunk.

Yes. Oh yes.

And the North Carolina quartet didn't disappoint. Setting the tone with "Throwing Things" to open, they pounded out hit after hit from their 20 year catalogue of rock and roll goodness. Heads bobbed, people jumped up and down, women swooned.** As the sun gently slipped down behind the skyline opposite the band and simultaneously illuminated the seaport pier on which the band was playing, the lights from the stage struggled valiantly to keep up with the spectrum of color before asserting their dominance as night came on. When the band played "Driveway to Driveway" it was enough to make a man feel like...well...like sexy dancing.

But alas, as everyone knows, you can't sexy dance to punk rock.




*Apologies to Kai Landry, who I'm sure could easily provide an acceptable definition of sexy.
**Apologies to the screenwriter of Dead Poets Society for the blatant rip-off.

Results follow up

Ran deep in both my tournaments this weekend. Cashed 4th on Friday night and bubbled out last before the money on Saturday after 6.5 hours of grinding. Results notwithstanding, I think my play Saturday was much better, I read well, didn't make many mistakes and was patient, a key to my game.

I'll come back with more details and thoughts later.

Sweet and Lowdown

I've got a double-header of home tournaments the next couple of nights, both of which I have cashed in but not won (2nd and 3rd) in the past few months. Both are rebuy tournaments, tonight's is my regular one and tomorrow's is one I first played in last month. Still working the transition mentally in the differences between my cash play, which surprisingly to me, has become more regular than my tournament play. So both tonight and tomorrow, with the rebuys out there, I am going to pick a spot early on, try to exploit even a minute mathematical edge in a hand, and send it in. Since I like to hold on to my second rebuy to rebuff a potential bad or tough beat later on in tonight's tournament, if my minute edge doesn't hold, I'll retreat into grinding/stealing systematic play and attempt to build a stack with the help of the deck and position.

I'll give a quick write up tomorrow of tonight's tourney and then hope to follow with the same Sunday for Saturday night's action.