Morning Glory (REVIEW)

Morning Glory directed by Roger Michell
My rating: 3½ of 5 stars

Slowly, but surely, I find myself liking Rachel McAdams more and more. Her latest film, Morning Glory is the story of Becky Fuller an ambitious young producer who is, somewhat surprisingly, given the opportunity to resurrect the long-ailing, 40-year old network morning news program, "Daybreak."

Based on early promos, I had Morning Glory pegged as a typical chick flick, and went to see it with pretty low expectations. It is a good thing Mom taught me not to judge a book by its cover...because the good news is that while Morning Glory did make a nice date movie—it has a good story, a great cast, and a less-than-typical Hollywood comedy script, it really wasn't a chick flick and director Roger Michell and producer J.J. Abrams have put together an enjoyable film. Overall the movie works, so women shouldn't have a problem getting their men to watch it (once they get them to the theater).

The ensemble cast includes Diane Keaton as the show's co-anchor Colleen Peck. Keaton does good work as a spry, albeit aging, morning news personality willing to try almost anything to keep the jeopardized program afloat. Patrick Wilson is Adam (Becky's love interest), a story editor for a news magazine show. Becky clicks with Adam almost immediately but her devotion to her job interferes with her relationship throughout the film (in the romantic sub-plot). The romance between McAdams and Wilson isn't heavy-handed, and seems like mostly an afterthought—although McAdams does look great in the lingerie she wore for Adam in their second date scene (but that's neither here nor there).

Additional supporting cast include John Pankow, Jeff Goldblum, and Patti D'Arbanville who all deliver excellent supporting performances. But Harrison Ford playing the distinguished veteran newsman Michael Pomeroy headlines the ensemble. Pomeroy is an old school, serious news anchor, who maintains that the "news is a sacred temple" and that he is "too good" to stoop to doing fluff pieces, which happen to be the lifeblood of morning talk shows. Heroine Becky is able to finagle him into taking a co-anchor position across from Keaton's Peck, but neither woman can get him to warm up to the morning news routine...

I found myself laughing as writer Aline Brosh McKenna mocks the insipid jokes and fake laughs of the morning news shows that we see on camera, and more than once I wondered if the movie portrays what is really going on behind the scenes at the Today Show. Diane Keaton and Ford play off each other so well as enraged egomaniacs, their mutual upstaging and bickering, turned off just in time for the cameras to roll made me hope for more scenes of them together.

Regardless of the star power of the movie's supporting cast, Rachel McAdams is the focus of this movie. McAdams' Fuller has that schizophrenic quality that Hollywood (and to some extent our society) uses as shorthand for career-minded women. She obsesses over her work, she flits from idea to idea at an afternoon "first date" dinner (a date whom she manages to scare off in minutes), and can't quite decide when to silence her meandering babbles in front of anyone, let alone her future boss (Jeff Goldblum), a television executive who's not sure if he should take a chance on her.

I only recall seeing Rachel McAdams in Mean Girls and Sherlock Holmes prior to this movie. Playing the antagonist in Mean Girls, and she did a good job, but I really didn't realize what a very charming and talented actress she was, until Sherlock Holmes, where she played a wonderful foil to Robert Downey, Jr.'s Holmes. She more than carried her weight in that "buddy" adventure/thriller. Here, she proves to be a very good comedienne, and she is able to take Hollywood's contrived cliché of the talky, klutzy, heart of gold heroine, and turn in a performance that seems genuine and endearing. The more I see of McAdams' performances, the more I want to go see.

The real centerpieces of Morning Glory are the scenes between McAdams and Harrison Ford. At first, to me at least, Ford doesn't quite feel right as the self-important, somewhat arrogant, newsman Michael Pomeroy, who, as Becky is constantly reminded, is the "third worst person in the world." I just can't see Ford as a Cronkite, Brokaw or Rather. As the movie progresses, director Roger Michell is able take that "he doesn't quite fit" feeling and couple it with the star-power and weight that both Ford and Pomeroy posses – the weight to crush the plucky Becky (and McAdams).

What I found interesting, was how Michell controlled Ford's "star power" in much the same way a race car driver controls his speeding car to avoid crashing into the wall – a wall where the spectators/audience are watching and expecting, dare I say anticipating, a crash. Michell uses this as a Sword of Damocles. One that hangs over Becky/McAdams' head. Michell engages the audience with the star-power of Ford and moves forward the mentor/student-father/daughter relationship between Ford and McAdams' characters, all the while avoiding the crash.

These scenes, between these two principals, are each very good, pretty funny, and end up being some of my favorites scenes in the movie. From the hunting scene where they first meet, to the frittata scene at Pomeroy's apartment (foreshadowing the dénouement), Each scene is an excellent piece of the acting/directing craft.

Being a big Ford fan, I'm glad to say he did some really good work in this film, and despite my initial misgivings about him as an "elder statesman of news" Some of Pomeroy's sarcastic one-liners are simply laugh-out-loud funny. In the end I forget my initial misgivings and end up liking and identifying with his character as he warms up to McAdams.

What's not to like? Despite all of my praise for the actors, the main shortcoming of the film (for me) really has to do with the predictable, telegraphed, and underwhelming dénouement (where Becky finally gets the interview for her dream job at the Today Show, forcing her to choose between what she has created at "Daybreak" and her dream). Although we get a typical Hollywood ending, I didn't feel a sense of closure as the credits rolled. It could have been the editing, or the script itself, but it just fell flat... that said, if you are a Rachel McAdams or Harrison Ford fan, you'll enjoy this one, and I'm anxious to see McAdams' next film...

Happy Birthday!

Sometimes, I am amazed that I actually continue to learn day in and day out. You would think that as I approach another year and another birthday, in the middle of my life, I would have learned all that I need to know and would be applying and imparting that knowledge.

But I am continually surprised by the fact that there are more nuanced meanings to the things that I thought I had already learned... For instance, I remember on my 16th birthday, my Mom gave me a hand-made paperweight with Raymond Duncan's quote:

"The best substitute for experience is being sixteen."

At first, I took this as a compliment; as a sixteen-year-old, I believed I should and could do anything. The meaning of those words was clear to me as a young adult... Go forth and do, don't let anything or anyone hold you back.

Then, several years ago, my oldest daughter turned thirteen, and for the first time, I realized the extended meaning of Duncan's words. Teenagers think they know everything (at least mine do) and can do anything. I know that I felt that way. But over time, experience showed me that I clearly didn't know everything, and some things should not be done (under any circumstance).

But that kind of experience only comes through trial (and error). So how the heck can you get a teenager to understand that? The answer is you can't. So the trick for me, as a parent, is to give my children the benefit of my experience without forcing it on them. Give them the space, time, and cushion to learn things independently- this is the magical parenting trick. And if I am being quite honest, I still don't have a handle on how to do this. With my two oldest kids in high school and my youngest just entering her own pre-teen years, we have too many fights because I haven't quite learned how to get them to accept some of my hard-earned experience, nor have I learned to just let go and keep my experience to myself.

However, I'm sure it made my Mom smile when I told her I "figured out" Duncan's words. I hope my epiphany gave her some satisfaction, knowing that by age 40, I had learned a lesson she started teaching me at 16. I only hope I am as successful with my kids.

Which brings me to my thoughts today, the anniversary of my birth. I've spent some time reflecting on the first half (or so) of my life this week. In particular, thinking about what the second half will have in store for me. I don't think this is uncommon for someone to do on his or her birthday. It is like a mid-year performance review at work.

But each time I start to reflect, I remember reading and discussing the words of Walt Whitman's poem, Youth, Day, Old Age and Night, in my high school American Lit class:

Youth, large, lusty, loving--youth full of grace,
force, fascination,
Do you know that Old Age may come after you with
equal grace, force, fascination?

Day full-blown and splendid--day of the immense
sun, action, ambition, laughter,
The Night follows close with millions of suns, and
sleep and the restoring darkness.

I am sure that the common interpretation of every student in my class was that Whitman's poem was an admonition to us (young people). What I remember from that American Literature lecture was the admonishment that "you won't always be young and that old age and death are approaching." The takeaway was to enjoy your fleeting youth because it doesn't last.

I know that when young people act selfishly, their "fleeting youth" is part of the reason. But that doesn't make the actions any less selfish. I worry that if the selfishness goes unchecked, it will grow into a pattern that will continue throughout their lives. At the same time, I can see that I was (on occasion) selfish, and I turned out okay (at least according to most).

So, while I do want my children to enjoy their youth, I also want them to learn from the mistakes I've already made. I do understand and recognize, in the logical part of my brain, that they need to make their own mistakes. But when they make choices that seem to be selfish to me, this paradigm of learning from experience does seem like a no-win situation.

What I'd really like my kids to learn is something that I know now, twenty-five plus years from high school, I know to be true: Youth is certainly fleeting, but life isn't always a zero-sum game. Most things are not a "me or them" or a "right or wrong" exercise. When I first read Whitman's words, I got it wrong. Youth is not at the expense of Age, nor vice-versa.

Just as I realized there is more than one meaning to Duncan’s experience quote, I know that Whitman's words have a more nuanced meaning...

There is beauty, strength, and wonder yet to be found for the young and the old. Whitman was not lamenting aging; he wasn't saying that night and age are stalking us, lying in wait to steal our grace, force, and fascination. His words have a deeper meaning. As we grow older and more experienced, all of these things can be found in abundance, in ourselves, in our children, in those we love, and who surround us -- each of them a bright star in the darkness of our individual nights.

As I blow out the candles on my birthday cake this year, my wish will be two-fold. First, I will wish to find better ways to impart my newfound wisdom to my kids (in ways that they won't see as lessons). Second, and more importantly, I will wish that the individual action, ambition, and laughter of every "sun" in my night sky not only measure up but burn so brightly that they exceed the grace, force, and fascination of the brightest day.

Two lumps of coal?!

Dutch St. Nick by artist Ila LaFever

Probably my favorite holiday tradition, one that is a little unique to my family (which, looking back, is probably the reason I love it so much), is our annual celebration of St. Nicholas Day on December 6th. Every year, St. Nicholas visits our house on the night of December 5th.  During his visit, he fills our stockings with candies, fruits, and nuts. There is usually a book, a game and a Christmas Tree ornament included in the stash St. Nick brings for us. He also tends to add a stuffed animal along with some school supplies, toiletries, and other "essentials" (underwear and socks in particular). Most of these St. Nicholas gifts are meant to be shared, not hoarded for oneself (so most of the candies, nuts and fruit get co-mingled right away, and used throughout Advent).

St. Nicholas also takes the time to write us a letter each year. The letter is filled with praise for each family member, praise for all of the good things they have done that year, and how they are growing (or have grown) into wonderful young adults. But the letter always ends with a "however." In that paragraph, St. Nick reminds us that we can always be a little bit better, that there are things to improve upon for the next year, and that doing so is our gift back to him.

I know that the kids enjoy this special holiday tradition (as I did when I was their age) in part because very few other people we know celebrate St. Nicholas Day, and that makes it more special (even if they have to explain it to their friends every year). But also, because St. Nick's letter serves to make each of the children each feel special and unique -- which is the part I really like.

So, for those of you who are St. Nick noobs (and if you are, be sure to check out the St. Nicholas Center) here is a crash course...the historic Nicholas was born on the southern coast of what is now modern-day Turkey. He was born into a wealthy Greek family, and was raised to be a devout Christian. When his parents died in an epidemic, the young Nicholas followed Jesus' word to "sell what you own and give the money to the poor," and spent his inheritance to assist the needy, sick and suffering. He became the Bishop of Myra early in the 4th Century, and had a reputation for secret gift-giving.

Although the celebration of St. Nicholas Day is largely unknown in the the United States, there are some enclaves where the tradition carries on. In particular a large swath of the Midwest, between Chicago (where my family is from) and Milwaukee, celebrate St. Nicholas Day each year, in addition to any communities with large populations of Dutch descendants, and it is that tradition that my family largely follows...

In much of Europe (both Christian and Orthodox), parties are held on the eve of St. Nicholas' feast, December 5th, and shoes or stockings left for St. Nicholas to fill during the night. Good children will find treats of small gifts, fruit or nuts, and special Nicholas candies and cookies. This is especially true in The Netherlands, where my grandfather's family is from. In the Dutch tradition, St. Nicholas arrives on a boat from Spain, with his white horse, and servant "Zwarte Pieten". The trio (how can you possibly separate St. Nick from his horse?!) travel the countryside filling the wooden shoes (or at my house their Christmas stockings) of good children, with treats and small toys, but leaving lumps of coal for children who haven't been so well behaved!

Illustration from envelope, Bar-le-Duc, France

Candy, toys, and treats, what could be better than a visit from St. Nick? Yet each and every year, St. Nicholas (unwittingly) fosters some level of angst prior to visiting our house. This has much to do with those lumps of coal. You see, in my family, there is plenty of grey. No one is (or really can be) all good, or all bad, hence the "however" clause in St. Nicholas' letter. In addition to his words, St. Nicholas often leaves things that (he hopes) will remind the kids (and adults) to try and be better people every day of the year. These "naughty" tokens include potatoes, onions and yes, lumps of coal (and my kids would argue the underwear and toiletries as well)...

The problem, that seems to crop up each year, is that while there are four of us in the house -- St. Nick always seems to have five lumps of coal to distribute when he arrives... As a result, my kids have come to see getting the second lump of coal as a "sign" from St. Nick that they have been particularly naughty (at least in comparison to their siblings). Which of course leads to arguments and additional naughty behavior that clearly is not desirable.

Over the last few years, I know that St. Nick has struggled to try and figure out what to do... The first, most obvious solution, was to get rid of one of the lumps of coal. Easy enough, but the one year he tried that, the kids figured him out, and decided to line up their lumps and see who had the biggest lump of coal (because the two smallest lumps are roughly equal to the largest lump in size/mass). Clearly that person was the naughtiest one this year... oi vey!

This year, I am sure St. Nick planned to use a more empirical methodology. Certainly he knows, as do I, which of the kids was most troublesome this year - doesn't he? Perhaps one of the kids is really more deserving of an extra lump this year...Well, my oldest daughter can be quite bossy, and just this week tried to bully her little sister into "behaving" in a certain way (so as not to be embarrassed by her). That would qualify as naughty, but does it deserve a lump of coal? I'm not sure, that seems more like a "two onion" infraction. My son, on the other hand, just this week didn't do the dishes when I asked him to, and decided to fight with me about doing them when I re-asked him to do them. Hmmm, that one seems more like an extra potato offense. Well, what about my youngest daughter? She tried to get her brother into trouble just today, by tattling on him... is that worthy of an extra lump of coal? Maybe not... but I think and extra pair of underwear would be in order!

Wow, I started to realize just how tough it is for St. Nick to do his job! Before bed last night, I thought a lot about what he might do, but it was late, and I was tired, so I left my thoughts until morning. I knew that reading St. Nick's letter to the kids in the morning would reveal how he decided to assign coal lump number 5...

Morning came too early today, and my youngest was up bouncing on the bed and begging me to go downstairs so she could open her stocking. All of the kids know that before we open St. Nick's presents we have to read his letter together. So they sat on the couch and I began to read. The letter went over well, the kids nodded and smiled, surely St. Nick got things right this year! Even the "however" paragraphs got nods of approval, until the last one, which was directed to me, and read:

You have done such a good job taking care of the kids and making sure that they are growing up well, and I am very proud of you for that.

However, sometimes you have the tendency to want all of the children to be a little more grown up than they really are (which is why you get the extra lump of coal this year...). Remember, they are all good kids, and while they sometimes make mistakes, so do we all. This year, I would like to see you use your big heart to relax and enjoy the kids, in the moment. To not worry so much about everything having to be just, equal, and fair, just enjoy them for who, what, and where they are.

Until next year, I love you all,

St. Nick

St. Nick's words to me are very true. This holiday season, and for the rest of the year, I promise to do my best to live up to his "however."

St. Nicholas Day is one of those traditions that was passed down from my Mom to me. It connects me to my extended family, our cultural heritage (a little bit at least), and makes me remember many of the good times I had growing up (thank you Mom and St. Nick). Our celebration has also has created some wonderful memories for my children, and me. Despite (or maybe because of) St. Nick's "however" this year, I really hope that I am passing on, to my three children, what my Mom created for me. I hope that they will look back and continue the St. Nicholas tradition for their (future) families and have years and years of fond memories as well.

Hey, and maybe next year, I'll only get one lump of coal :)

Just Wait 'til Next Year!

Today is the day that all true Chicago Cubs fans dread...today is the day that our beloved Cubbies were mathematically eliminated from the playoffs (worst of all, by the hated Cardinals). Today is the day that the season officially ends for all true Northsiders (even if there are still 8 games remaining in the season).

Yes, it is true that the Cubs still have an outside chance at the National League wild card, and yes the remainder of the season schedule is pretty soft, but for a team that came off the 2008 campaign touted as the best team in the National League, 2009 has been nothing but an abysmal disappointment. But why am I disappointed? Am I really disappointed? I mean for the last 40 years, I have felt the same pain and endured the same taunts from Dirtybird fans come October. Is 2009 so different from all of those other seasons?

Now that the season is (nearly) over, I find myself going through my annual ritual of second-guessing my pre-season optimism and trying to answer Skyler Fishhawk's question (with all due respect to Jeff MacNelly, who penned the comic Shoe).

First off, was this year any different? No, not really, I go into every season expecting the Cubs to win it all. Yes, the Cubs won the NL Central title the last two years and so there was some expectation on my part that they'd repeat this year as well, but really history wouldn't bear that out, and even the Yankees and Braves have had some poor seasons in the midst of good runs... Besides, I really can't remember three years in a row where the Cubs had a winning record (so 2007-2008-2009 are good from that perspective).

But from the beginning, personnel issues were clearly going to dominate the 2009 season, and not in a good way. First was the team's decision to trade DeRosa, and then the decision to pick up the mercurial free-agent Milton Bradley. By the way, to everyone who told me that the Milton Bradley acquisition was going to end badly, you have been vindicated (and I'll be the first to admit that I was too Pollyannaish about him), then the whole where do you bat Soriano fiasco. Adding to those sagas were injuries to Aramis Ramirez, Carlos Zambrano, Ryan Dempster, Ted Lilly, Giovani Soto and Alfonso Soriano and you have the makings of a sub-par season (which would be "normal" for us true die-hards). The fact that Lou (as in Pinella) has been a kinder, gentler version of himself, at least in public, is also of some concern.

But still I remain optimistically disappointed...

The drama around Cubs ownership also weighed heavily at the start of the season. Others have compared Sam Zell (current Tribune Co. Chairman, and Cubs owner) to Henry F. Potter, the Lionel Barrymore character in It's a Wonderful Life and I am starting to believe them. If ever there was a question about why the MLB owners get to screen and approve new potential team owners, Sam Zell has to be the answer. So, like most die-hards I crossed my fingers that the sale would be accomplished quickly -- to whom was irrelevant -- practically anyone would be better. But as the bidding dragged on, and the team entered the season with Zell still at the helm (and all of the drama about selling Wrigley Field), I should have realized that things would be the same. Still, I remained confident that this year, 2009, was going to be our year.

With the perspective of 20-20 hindsight, I can see that I had no reason to be optimistic: The facts show that the past off season was perhaps the worst in Cubs history (or at least in my memory) and that the Cubs current ownership is among the worst in baseball. But that wouldn't have deterred me in any case.

I have many fond, albeit bittersweet, summer memories that recall the Cubs failing to live up to my (our) expectations. As a matter of fact, twenty years ago today, I was glued to the television watching the Cubs clinch their last NL East title (during the 1989 campaign). That post season series ended up being dominated by the Giants (and then the World Series by the Loma Prieta earthquake). But the late September days of 1989 were heady times, as have been the late days of the last two seasons (and 1984, and 1998, and 2003...).

Twenty years ago next week, during that fateful series against the Giants, Mike Royko typed his famous column: Sins of the Fathers. The column expresses the life-long, and even generations-long, suffering of Cubs fans everywhere and how our "optimistic pessimism" is passed from parent to child. Royko implores fathers not to pass on the disease of "optimistic pessimism" to our sons, but it is too late for me. I am the Dad telling his son that tomorrow is a new day. And I do believe that there is always next year, and I always will. Royko, and Cardinals fans, may call me a sucker (Royko wouldn't really mean it) but I do have faith that the 2010 season is going to be the Cubbies year.

I am painfully aware that legions of die-hard Cub fans, including Mr. Royko, Mr. MacNelly, and my great-grandmother, have passed from this earth without seeing the Cubs win a world series... and tonight, I find myself disappointed that, once again, my Cubbies won't play into the depths of October.

But, to answer your question Skyler... As painful as it sounds, there is always another next year. For us die-hard Cubs fans, our "next year" starts tomorrow, September 27, 2009. That is the day I will start to dream about April 2010 and the chances for the Cubs to win a World Series after 102 years of drought...

P.S. Oh, and if Tom Ricketts happens to read this, I'd love to help you re-build the team!

2009 Station Fire

This week has been a doozy in the foothills North of Los Angeles, where I live. A wildfire dubbed the "Station Fire" has been burning, for over a week, in the Angeles National Forest. The fire started as a relatively small event, isolated in the foothills above La Cañada Flintridge, off the Angeles Crest Highway (State Route 2) on August 26th. However, the fire, fueled by over 60 years of unfettered growth on the mountain, expanded uncontrollably on August 29/30th -- septupling in size. The unchecked fire growth forced evacuations in my La Crescenta neighborhood and La Cañada Flintridge. Then, later in the week, the communities of Acton, Altadena, Sunland, and Tujunga also faced mandatory evacuations, and the fire raced up Mount Wilson, threatening the observatory and most of the telecommunications infrastructure in the Los Angeles basin).

Fortunately, my home was just South of the mandatory evacuation area. Still, a firefighter told me that because there is a 180+ foot tall pine tree in my front yard, I should be prepared to leave immediately because if the tree caught fire, our whole cul-de-sac would go up! Not comforting news, but important to know all the same...

I am very appreciative of all of the firefighters who defended our homes, as well as the Cal Fire crews who worked on the fire proper. They did a great job protecting our Foothill communities, and everyone living here is grateful.

During this very long week, I took a bunch of photos from around my house; below is my Flickr slide show documenting the fire and all of the action I could see (click on a picture to view the slide show):
Also, be sure to check out other Flickr images of the fire.

As a postscript, the fire burned for over 6 weeks (finally being declared "out" on October 16th). It resulted in some spectacular pyrocumulus clouds, destroyed almost 100 homes, and was responsible for the death of 2 firefighters. On September 3rd, authorities confirmed what most of my neighbors and I had already surmised; the fire was set deliberately, and an arson investigation had been initiated...