The Kids Are All Right (2010) directed by Lisa Cholodenko

Astrid:
I really enjoyed and appreciated The Kids Are All Right when I first saw it about a year ago. I liked it for portraying a family with two moms, making lesbian parenting appear normal and lesbian love pretty usual too with the common long-term relationship hick-ups. I especially loved the film for Annette Bening, Mark Ruffalo and Julianne Moore – in that order. I embraced the politics of it all: finally Hollywood makes the lesbian film, after gay men had been starring in mainstream pictures for almost a decade.

On second viewing I dared to be a harsher critic of the movie. I still had fun watching it though. I liked the imperfection of the perfectionist Nic (Bening) – I saw that she was playing a specific written character, not a stereotype of the butch-partner. I still empathized with the womanizing Paul (Ruffalo), who found himself suddenly in the middle of a family drama in which he played dad. Nick felt the film did not portray him kindly, but I continued to like Paul – I guess it helped that it was Mark Ruffalo all along. What seemed to be a let-down this time was the written structure of the film: it floated from the funny relationship stuff and the in-search-for-a-father-figure stuff to being unnecessarily sentimental in the end. The boring guitar soundtrack music mixed with the storyline about the elder sister Joni (Mia Wasikowska) going off to college was an unnecessary way of saying 'look how normal a lesbian parent family really is'.

Despite there being a sense of the education program and appropriation project, The Kids Are All Right is a funny witty film, most of the time. The relationship between Nic and Jules (Moore) made me laugh aloud many times and at times it reminded me of myself in a relationship. I would file the film next to Sideways and Little Miss Sunshine – harmless California sun, light entertainment and real emotions all in good proportion for no one to feel overwhelmed.

Nick:
I just started reading Simon Reynolds' book Retromania about our obsession with the past and its impact on popular culture (specifically music). I think Reynolds is arguing that our unhealthy obsession with a time when everything seemed better than now (take your pick from the 1960's onwards) leaves less space for new ideas in our culture. I think this is a truism to an extent. I hate the way how old celebrated movies/records take away the space from new releases. Yet, re-evaluation also brings new perspectives on old works which can give new currency to the old classics. We begin to look at things in a new way. This blog mostly covers old movies, making me think are we just adding to the general air of 'things used to be so much better?' The Kids Are All Right names itself after a classic Who rockumentary (and soundtrack album), so its title certainly fits into what Reynolds is talking about.

The Kids Are All Right gives us what it would like to think is a radical examination of the modern American family. In fact, the selling point, Annette Bening and Julianne Moore playing lesbian parents Jules and Nic just confirms the conservative attitudes that pervades most straight society. Once you get over this condescension, The Kids Are All Right opens up into a well performed comedy. At times the patronizing tone of the script comes over as being a little bit too pleased with itself. Can we also have no more scenes in films where middle-aged former hippie chicks turned capitalist bastards rhapsodize on why Joni Mitchell's Blue was so special back in the day. You're killing it for us.

Quietly, the consistent Mark Ruffalo steals the acting honors (though his character is poorly treated by the script) as the sperm donor father Paul, who Jules' and Nic's children decide to contact. Bening and Moore (especially) overact as the picture moves on, making us feel less for their characters. By the end, long passages of bland music and aimless images reveal that The Kids Are All Right was really about the daughter coming of age all along. So The Kids Are All Right feels like a missed opportunity to go deep into the workings of the middle class American family.

Doctor Zhivago (1965) Directed by David Lean

Nick:

It's often the case that through the critical community, too much emphasis is placed on the script when discussing cinema. It's an odd thing to say, but cinema is a visual medium first of all (and its origins certainly attain to this with the silent era). It could be argued that in its purest form, that after the visuals, music even trumps the words in the emotive power of cinema. This may explain to us why the action blockbuster picture actually remains closer to the origins of the form than say a wordy art house drama. The introduction here is as a warning to tell you that if you enter into Doctor Zhivago for an intellectual/intelligent explanation  of what happened in The Russian Revolution, you may be disappointed. 

Doctor Zhivago in many ways finds a film which offers its political attitude through the voices of a bunch of English luvvie actors. Pretending to be Russian, spouting in the best Queen's English, many a British thespian can be viewed espousing the most basic clichés about Russia and its bleeding Revolution. Yes, hard facts or even any correct information on the events at hand is not why I would recommend Doctor Zhivago. Julie Christie, captured by Lean in her prime is one reason to watch – she looks amazing here, Omar Sharif, doing so much for the cause of the mustache is another. Instantly, Lean, by giving us such a gorgeous looking pair, takes us into the world of idealized fantasy. One can just marvel at shot after shot of beauty on screen, littered with little details that keep the continuity of the story going. The lost, gained and lost romance of the banned poet Yuri Zhivago and his muse Lara engages us, even if one does not actually care that much for what comes out of their mouths.

So Lean, almost more than any other director, and certainly in the second half of his career, understood the visual power of the medium better than most. He had been a great director of actors but seemed to have loosened his grip somewhat for Doctor Zhivago. The only American on view – Rod Steiger, as the surviving scoundrel Komarovsky delivers any sense of reality amongst the decadent camera work. But more importantly, Lean makes his romance credible, or our wanting for it to succeed, by keeping the central lovers apart for most of what is a lengthy picture. Doctor Zhivago has no real sense of sentimentality, which serves it well, especially with its cruel ending. So as cinema nowadays becomes more based on trying to convey real emotions (why?) or using CGI to recreate the ultimate unimagined world, I'll always fall back on the artistry and genius of David Lean. Lean knew how to tell a "jolly good" yarn in the most eye catching way. Some of the primal essence of cinema throbs here.

Astrid:
I'm not a lover of David Lean epics as such. Too many men, too many wars. Doctor Zhivago is an important exception though, because I do love it. I feel as if admitting this love requires proper explaining. There is a guilty pleasure feeling that creeps in with this film – the lightness of the political content, the general fluffiness, the romance of a lifetime – nothing really stands the inspection of a critical mind. Yet, the story of Zhivago and Lara appeals to me time and time again.

A big reason for why Doctor Zhivago works is the look of the film from the way it has been filmed to the way it has been designed to look using sets, props and clothing. The movie makes everything from poverty to abundance and from torture to sexual desire look romantic in the early 20th century Russia. Also, the fact that the film was made in 1965 influences the look positively, especially in the case of Julie Christie.

It baffles me how I can find it romantic that Zhivago is married to a nice beautiful poetry-loving lady, but still yearns after and has an affair with Lara. He wants to keep both women obviously and manages to juggle between them until he is highjacked by the red army. Then he returns a half-dead man into the arms of Lara to find out that he has been left by his wife. In the end he loses both brunette and blondie – I guess that's the romance: love is romantic if it's lost and unromantic and mundane when it becomes a lasting thing with routines. What I really cannot grasp is why and when did Zhivago become such a patriot that he chose Russia over any ladies at all.

Sex and the City TV Series (2006) & George Harrison: Living In the Material World (2011)

Astrid:
The third trimester of pregnancy in my case should be called the-sex-and-the-city trimester rather than the tired or huge trimester. The box was a gift from Nick. At first he meant to say that I can watch it when ever I want and just relax, but when we actually started going through the first season (out of 6), it became clear that he was equally into the whole series and did not want to miss episodes. The first and second seasons showed how this series really is not just about women, but it's just as much about men. Those two seasons remain the best. Carrie has not yet taken over half the series and it deals much more with thematic questions about sex and sexualities. As Carrie takes over, so do many other less favorable qualities. For example the focus on product placement isn't outrageously obvious in the beginning, but becomes a distracting feature by the third season.

I have watched Sex and the City on TV when it first aired in Finland. I have watched the reruns several times, and I even went to the cinema to sit through the two horrible movies. I have been the twenty-something woman who constructs her ideas about shoes, bags and relationships with a little help from Sex and the City. Now I wonder if it really was a worthy influence. I'm still hanging onto the 20-something-tag for at least one more month – nowhere near the ages of Charlotte, Carrie, Miranda or Samantha. I've not been single for a decade, I don't own any Manolo Blahniks and I don't really care for them, I'm about to be a mom  and no, my boyfriend is not filthy rich nor does he own a bar. But maybe it was this realization of how I do not relate that allowed me to enjoy the series in a light-hearted way. I'm glad I own the box.

Nick:
This last few weeks have been spent in the company of the girls from Sex & The City (Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte). It's almost been a prescient time to watch the whole of Sex & the City. The euro struggles to survive as the whole capitalist/consumer society comes under attack from market forces and the dignified and needed Occupy movement. Candid sex scenarios from a women's perspective are  most welcome when we live in a society where so much sexuality seems to be discussed from a male perspective. This is where it can be said the early seasons of Sex & The City really work, these shows have edge and a great sense of humor.

As the series wares on, it becomes apparent that Sex & The City becomes aware of it's on success and the whole affair turns very self conscious. It's also the time I begin to wonder what kind of message is being sent out here. Sex & The City's ladies become impossibly decadent. A fantasy world where expense and emotion try to mingle in a game of spot the product placement. So, from my own perspective of not having (and actually rarely wanting), I found Sex & The City and the kind of life aspired to in the series (some kind of Manhattan neo-conservative fascist) remarkably offensive. These are tough times, so come the revolution I hope Carrie and her ilk are the first up against the wall!

Astrid:
I was keen to see Scorsese's documentary on George. Usually, Scorsese makes great docs on rock stars and generally, The Beatles is a fruitful topic with plenty of angles and a lot to admire. Four hours of George and the three other guys and lots of famous talking heads and good music – sounds like a good idea. But I was a little disappointed. It felt like the doc never really began. There was never a strong narrative thread that took hold and delivered an insight. George remained a distant figure throughout. I felt that a lot of talking heads idealized him leaving out the criticism they most likely would have been able to deliver in another circumstance.

So George was a bit of a loner, a ladie's man in a stern quiet manner, a joker, a volatile angry guy and of course, a spiritual seeker. The emphasis here was on admiring George's involvement in meditation, sitar playing and all things Eastern and incense-smelling. What remained in the sidelines was the fact that he obviously battled with all kinds of substance abuse and with his own bursts of negative energy, bad temper, or what ever you want to call it. He was one of the Beatles and therefore the documentary was made with kid gloves on. Or maybe, George was a bit boring and Scorsese struggled to find interesting material on him...give me Bob and No Direction Home any time. A put-down with a frown is still more interesting than a mantra as a chorus.

Nick:
We go from the abundant materialism of Sex & the City to the anti-materialistic sentiments of George Harrison. Of course it should be mentioned here that being a millionaire Beatle and being able to have whatever and whoever you want at any given time from a very early age (in George's case an incredible early 20's), it's maybe easier to take a stance of anti-materialism when you are as rich as George was. Let's remember this was the George that wrote Taxman moaning about how much he was paying  to the British Government, so although having money was seemingly not important to George, giving it away obviously rankled too. Yet, this sense of contradiction in Harrison is something we take away with us whilst watching Martin Scorsese's patchy documentary.

The problem with George Harrison: Living In the Material World is it tries to take too much on board. Unlike Scorsese's excellent Dylan documentary No Direction Home, where Scorsese takes a certain part of Dylan's life and focuses on that, here he tries to fit too much in. So, this never goes deep enough into Harrison's life. It's a shame as some anecdotes are funny and there is some great unseen footage. Even more surprising about Scorsese's film was the small amount of focus on Harrison's guitar playing. Yes, we get a sense of Harrison's quick disillusionment with being a Beatle, but not enough about how great an innovator Harrison was with the six stringed beast. I expect more from Scorsese, so this was quite a big disappointment to me.

The Aviator (2004) Directed by Martin Scorsese

Nick:
I've had the worst runny nose of my life this week. And it's still runny! Stop! Now! It's been over a week. Is this a permanent state? The amount of toilet roll used to blow, soak and wipe away the slightly green gunk, well, it's a forest or two I'm telling you... I've also found myself in a period of time where I've been extremely busy. So, flu and work = lack of full strength recovery. So, through tissue and sniff we decided to go for The Aviator again. It's always struck me as a very accomplished yet cold piece of film making. After The Gangs Of New York (a bombastic failure for Scorsese), The Aviator sees Scorsese turn his attention to another slice of vérité, his portrait of the early rise to notoriety of American aviator, inventor, film maker, rogue, freak, racist, compulsive disorder victim and crucially, filthy rich Howard Hughes.

Something happened this time however. I finally got what Scorsese was trying to do with The Aviator. Through the early life of Hughes, Scorsese has managed to make his own Citizen Kane and in part even pay homage to Orson Welles' classic. Leonardo DiCaprio as Hughes even resembles the young Welles. So here we get the flashbacks to the influential youth, the rise and fall of Hughes, before he once again triumphs in designing and flying the era's biggest aircraft ever. I've always found Hughes' life after the time frame of The Aviator more interesting. That Hughes (as written about fictionally in James Ellroy's Underworld USA trilogy) is the one whose compulsive disorders ended up taking over his life, as he became a recluse in the Desert Inn Hotel, yet still holding influence over all aspects of American life. That influence includes plotting with and against various US Presidents, owning Las Vegas, the daily blood changing which earned him the name of Dracula amongst the FBI, and his open racism. Hughes had an agenda and the older he got, his money and power still exerted itself. The Aviator steers clear of the darkness in Hughes and is more a celebration of his genius and creativity (although Scorsese does focus acutely on Hughes' phobias).

So Scorsese gives us early Hollywood glamor in a special turquoise tint for the first 50 minutes of the picture. He also uses unsubtle CGI to show us many of Hughes' daring flying exploits. Cate Blanchett impresses as Hughes' early squeeze Katherine Hepburn, but it's DiCaprio who burns up the screen. The Aviator justifies Scorsese's choice to make DiCaprio his acting muse in recent pictures. This film has got better for me, and gives me hope that even some of Scorsese's more recent, so-so fare will improve with age. The Aviator, seven years on is starting to feel like a great Scorsese picture.

Astrid:
I remember thinking after the first viewing of The Aviator that it was a depressing and sad film with too bright colors. I also blamed it for being cold and grand without reason. This time around I thought the whole movie was saying: never underestimate the mentally ill. While the film described Hughes' descent into being overpowered by his illness (which at first only effected some areas of his life) it simultaneously celebrated his amazing creativeness and admired his fight against the even bigger guys.

Nick has been going on about Howard Hughes for years – the blood changing and the Nevada desert, casinos, power and more peculiar power. I have been rather annoyed by his fascination, or maybe by the the tone I detected, making the guy sound like a vampire master planner with evil intent.
Yes, it may be that there was some of that too. But this time The Aviator made a lot more sense to me because actually it humanizes Hughes (the racist vampire legend) and sympathizes with him.
Ironically, this sympathy sounds from the analysis that it was the mother of the child who effed him up (to put it politely). It's always the mother, right...Well anyway, this is a film about obsessive compulsion.

Despite the masterful editing and coloring of the movie and the wonderful set design and costumes, the focus of the movie is DiCaprio as Hughes. The Hughes who is not that ill when flirting and having sex, flying and making movies, but is very very ill all the other times. The Hughes whose list of pattern behavior for safety gets so long it isolates him from other people almost completely. And yet, when people believe they can humiliate him in public and can thus force him out from the aviation power game, he manages to make a public appearance defending himself, winning the case. DiCaprio is very believable in his role, which at times makes the film uncomfortable and very emotional. This time I understand why Scorsese decided to make his film about Hughes describing this rather early period of his life; he wanted to celebrate and appreciate rather than fortify the mythology that surrounds Hughes just like it surrounds mental illness even today.

The Way We Were (1973) Directed by Sydney Pollack

Nick:
Over the last few weeks we've had a Sex & The City marathon, re-watching the whole series. We're currently on the 5th season, where quality and meaning have been reduced to product placement. In an earlier season, the girls raptured about Hubbell in The Way We Were, and the episode even riffed on the last scene of the movie. In some ways, The Way We Were has a reputation as the quality romantic weepy, especially with mainstream audiences. I'm sure a lot of women of a certain age regard this film as a classic. The reality after watching The Way We Were again is what a confused mess of a picture this is. The Way We Were tries to mix political incentive (specifically the clumsy portrayal of McCarthyism) with liberal ideas on femininity in stark contrast to Hubbell's stoic (outdated!) machismo, all the while trying to impose a romance where opposites attract. Phew...did I say it was only a weepy?

But lets clear another thing up, the direction here is terrible. Pollack has always been well liked as an all around good guy rather than a great director. Personally, I always liked him more as an actor and have found his direction certainly workman-like. Pollack has also had a thing for Robert Redford (Hubbell), The Way We Were being one of six films Pollack has directed Redford in. And here lies a big problem with The Way We Were.  Pollock indulges Redford here. Redford does nothing but look good and act cool offering nothing of the emotive variety. Opposite Redford is Barbara Streisand as the politically aware Katie, who by being so good here, merely shows Redford's capacity for imitating cardboard. We're with Streisand all the way here, in every cause she stands for, while her dream-man often feels embarrassed for her. This lack of empathy from Redford towards Streisand ruins any will we might have for Barbara getting her man. Oh well, you're better off without him Babs, one might opine. On top of this, Streisand, one of the great voices of cinema trumps Redford again by singing the excellent theme song.

Watching The Way We Were again, it does remind  me of where the appeal lies with Redford. Robert Forster, The Go-Betweens tunesmith once opined that Redford had perfect hair, and it's a view one can't help but agree with. As Redford has spent most of his 1970's cinema trying to be a Fitzgerald character on screen, until he actually got to play Gatsby in the end, his hair in the meantime has been exquisite. The best scene for Redford in The Way We Were? Redford behind the wheel of a vintage Mercedes sports car, blonde locks blowing in the wind. If his hair could act, Redford would be the perfect actor.

Astrid:
We have been working our way through Sex and the City - the boxset with all seasons. At some point the women had a moment where they remembered The Way We Were and even sang Memories all together...it made us eager to watch the film again. I remembered The Way We Were as a really flawed film, which had nevertheless made me cry. On my second viewing I liked the movie less than before. Barbabra Streisand was pretty convincing and passionate in her role, but Robert Redford seemed to be sleepwalking through the role of an idiot hunk. He was so meat-and-potatoes and so full of himself as a movie star, it was impossible for me to believe Streisand's character in love with him.

As the film happened, it unraveled as a cinematic example piece on co-dependency. At first the movie managed to portray a woman's lust and passion for a man in a way that's quite rare – Redford occupied the sex object position usually given to the leading ladies. Quite quickly though, it became clear that Hubbell was not much of a man for the thinking woman Katie. Yet, she kept insisting on needing him and loving him. That's where instead of romantic, the film seems to me sad. Surely there would be someone more stimulating and loving for Katie, if she would let go of the blond pin-up sailor boy.

For once watching the making-of-documentary offered a crucial perspective to the film. In the documentary it came out that the movie was brutally edited after a few test audiences saw it. Barbara Streisand thinks the edits ruined a great movie. Many important scenes were cut out in which the politics of the film and her character Katie were developed. These scenes gave depth to Katie's and Hubbell's separation and difficulty as a couple and they justified the whole political aspect of the film. In the version that came out and became a hit, the politics seems to serve no purpose other than being a futile prop offering something for Katie to feel passionate about. Had the politics stayed in the film, it could have been a much more fulfilling a film á la Reds or Doctor Zhivago. Now it is a rather mixed-up story of a relationship with some great acting and some confused directing.

The Big Sleep (1946) Directed by Howard Hawks

Astrid:
The Big Sleep has always been present in this blog, because the title banner is a picture from the film. Why is this the visual image we chose out of all possible film visuals? That might be a good question to attempt to answer right now. I think it was important to have an image portraying a couple, because being a couple was the premise for our blog. Then it was about what energy we wanted to convey and that is where The Big Sleep and Bogie and Bacall became a natural choice. This cinematic couple is nothing if not verbally superior, sexy and edgy. Their looks are also to die for, as is the style of the whole movie. To put Bogie and Bacall in the banner is to direct you to imagine what's to come: the differing opinions of a man and a woman, their difference and their similarities all being equally important ingredients in their romance – and on the blog. To put B & B on the banner is also to engage with the imaginary, which is why we watch films in the first place, I believe.

There is a secret that the world of cinema has largely forgotten since 1946: a put-down can be the sexiest thing one can say to the other. You just have to choose the right time and tone to deliver your line. Howard Hawks knew this, Bob Dylan knew this, Bogie and Bacall certainly acted like they knew – but what's happened to the beauty of a put-down these days?

Another great aspect of the way B & B talk to each other in The Big Sleep is the implicit sexiness of almost everything they utter. In this exchange the subject is supposedly horses and betting on them:

Vivian: Speaking of horses, I like to play them myself. But I like to see them workout a little first, see if they're front runners or comefrom behind, find out what their whole card is, what makes them run.
Marlowe: Find out mine?
Vivian: I think so.
Marlowe: Go ahead.
Vivian: I'd say you don't like to be rated. You like to get out in front, open up a little lead, take a little breather in the backstretch, and then come home free.
Marlowe: You don't like to be rated yourself.
Vivian: I haven't met anyone yet that can do it. Any suggestions?
Marlowe: Well, I can't tell till I've seen you over a distance of ground. You've got a touch of class, but I don't know how, how far you can go.
Vivian: A lot depends on who's in the saddle.

Nick:
So a lazy Independence Day passes by once again. As was pointed out to me earlier in the day by Astrid, Finland seems to be a country that celebrates its independence by watching various celebs and political types visit the Finnish President's palace on TV. No demonstrations in the street this year, this seems to be a time to be home with the family watching the box. It's a strange tradition where even the  most ardent political renegade displays their soft under belly. Why do Finns get so soppy at this event? So, as the hand shaking progressed, we wanted to watch something classic.

The Big Sleep offers more than the pure heated sexual chemistry of the nowadays iconic Bacall/Bogart team-up. Some of the dialogue between the two here is as charged as film dialogue has ever been without expressively shouting "I wanna Fuck!" Yes the photo at the top of this blog is from The Big Sleep. But instead of focusing on Bogart & Bacall or even Hawks (as we have dome in the past), it's time to give the script some credit as to why The Big Sleep still retains the edge and sexual prowess that is pretty much unrivaled in mainstream cinema. The Big Sleep was mainly written by William Faulkner from the Raymond Chandler novel. Like Chandler, Faulkner was a serious writer who turned to Hollywood to make some money and ended up writing some (often uncredited) scripts. He already scripted the Hawks/Bogart/Bacall team up To Have And Have Not. For me, The Big Sleep surpasses even that milestone with clever plotting, great characterization, and the screen Philip Marlowe. So much is down to Faulkner's energetic script.

If for some reason this film has passed you by, stop what you're doing and track it down and watch it (shouldn't be too hard). One of my all time faves, The Big Sleep reminds me of a time when the Studio System really did have the best talent available. That combination of artistic ideals combined with entertainment values have rarely created anything as stylish and sexy as The Big Sleep.

White Palace (1990) Directed by Luis Mandoki

Nick:
Hey, wake up! It's been a bit sleepy here I know, but work commitments for me (i.e. mixing an album) usually mean I'm not home watching movies. I must add at this point that having been in a virtually sealed audio environment for a number of days in a row plays havoc with your social activities, even your nearest and dearest may suffer. It takes a few days to acclimatize back to a different version of relative normality. So, the day after a per-usual, intense studio session, me and Astrid arrive in downtown Helsinki. We couldn't find anything interesting enough on at the local picture palace, so a hastily chosen DVD will suffice. I remember being fond of White Palace at the time of release. Well acted, smart and little bit rougher round the edges than your usual romantic movie.

After some 20 years since I last saw White Palace, time has bought mixed feelings from me towards the film. Yes, Susan Sarandon is still excellent here. This was a time when Sarandon would willingly disrobe in any old art house movie (The Hunger, Atlantic City) and as well as the acting chops, she still has it here in other ways too. Yes, she's very sexy. James Spader, hot young thing that he is at this time, has not quite reached his height of robotic conformity that he would later go onto display in other movies (with chilling effect in Crash). He has empathy here, and the chemistry between Sarandon's older waitress and Spader's younger, wizard copy-writer still resonates. So, the romance and unlikelihood of it, still works for White Palace.

It's when the picture tries to discuss class values and differences in social background that it falls down. Cliché after cliché is wheeled out about Spaders possible embarrassment at being seen with an older and poorer woman. What becomes quickly apparent at a party scene in the picture where Spader takes Sarandon along, is that Sarandon oozes a sex appeal that many men would fall for, weather he be a rich frat boy or Hollywood superstar. The other women vying for Spader's attention don't stand a chance. It takes some of the gloss away from an otherwise intense romance which occasionally and skillfully deals with  the loss of loved ones. White Palace (named after the Burger joint Sarandon works at) remains still, just about open for business.

Astrid:
Choosing an anniversary movie to watch is a big deal if you think that the choice somehow reflects the state of affairs in the relationship. We had our anniversary yesterday. At first, we were going to see a movie in town, but a few facts worked against us: Mainly, there was nothing suitable on in the theaters in Helsinki. The couple of films we could have seen (Midnight In Paris and Tree of Life) started at nine in the evening and I was not up for waiting that many hours after dinner. Also, at this stage of pregnancy we need to practically always remain within a few feet from a toilet, so a cinema might have been impossible anyway. Not a surprise then that our anniversary date started with picking a DVD for later.

For some reason it seemed we were both on the look-out for a romantic film, or at least one about a relationship. I was very keen on Blue Valentine, although I remember reading that it's quite sad while romantic. I was told it was too expensive right now and we would have to wait for the price to come down. Nick then suggested numerous old classics with beautiful stylish old-fashioned movie posters on their covers. He also attempted to get me to go for My Beautiful Laundrette, but although I love Daniel Day-Lewis, I was not ready to identify myself as him that evening. I much rather identified with Susan Sarandon.

So we ended up going home with White Palace. Simple enough, I was Susan and Nick was James Spader. They fall in love against all obstacles, not everybody approves, but they have fun and then they really get serious – easy enough to identify with in our circumstance. An added aspect of comparison was that the couple in the film had a pretty big age gap between them, although in their version the woman was the older one. White Palace was really an entertaining film wrapped up in the tangles of this one chance encounter turned into a love story. It had an awful soundtrack, a dated look and it wasn't really anything that special as a film. Yet, I'm sure it was a perfect choice for the occasion. At this point in our relationship, I am sure we too have that dated look from time to time. But the soundtrack is always excellent in this relationship.