I'm learning that one of the things about loving books in a heartbursting way is coming to terms with the fact that there is no possible way I can read everything good and worthwhile being published, nor can I hope to ever consume the entire cannon of past amazingness. And that is ok and normal. Obviously, this is going to be especially important to keep in mind in September when I start grad school and will have to stop sleeping and possibly forgo casual pleasure reading altogether. The great news is that because I can't know everything in its immediacy, I will continue to discover "new" writers for the rest of my life, and each time I will sigh as I drop the completed novel and feel as if I am looking at the world in a slightly different and more complete way.

The newest author that I'm embarrassed I've only been reading for two months is Jhumpa Lahiri. My mom and I had the nicest drive back from Idaho in June listening to The Namesake on cassette tape in my little car. 369 miles from Cottonwood to Seattle only got us about halfway through the story so I rushed out to bookstore back in Seattle to pick up the novel and, oh my god, I loved it all so much. I don't know if I connected so fully with that book because the immigrant, ethnic experience in America makes me imagine what it must have been like for my Greek grandmother to move to Seattle in the 50's or if it is just because The Namesake is seriously that good. Shortly thereafter I devoured The Interpreter of Maladies, and have Unaccustomed Earth on my hold list at the library, but there are still 342 people in line in front of me, so I'm thinking I'll probably just break down and buy it.

This week I watched the film version of The Namesake, which I thought was pretty good. It's difficult to give an opinion of an adaptation of a book you love, because obviously the book is able to do so much more than the movie. You lament the places where nuance and backstory were sacrificed because it is entirely impossible to shoehorn all that into two hours, and yet you love the screenwriter and director for knowing how good this work of fiction is and desiring to give it a face. This book is so anecdotal and the sheer 30 year breadth is just so staggering that the entire time I was watching the film I was wondering if anyone who hadn't read the book would understand the leaping in years and perspectives, and realize that as a whole, the facets of stories actually fit together seamlessly and poignantly. Kal Penn's performance earned him a slot on my list of crushes, and his role in the film was unique from the other (excellent) actors in that his portrayal of Gogol Ganguli brought something new and sharp to the character that didn't exist or wasn't as fleshed out in the novel. Incidentally, I admire Mira Nair's adaptations of novels. I was one of the few people in the world that didn't hate her film version of Vanity Fair. I thought it was clever, pleasurable to watch, and didn't abandon Thackeray's main themes while shifting the focus and tone. Similarly, with The Namesake, I can't really imagine a different treatment of the material that wouldn't have turned the wonderfully complex and convoluted story into a trite, feel-good cliche.

On the topic of Forgetting Sarah Marshall: You see, I was never going to not see this this movie. I basically hyperventilated last summer when I read that Jason Segel was writing and starring in a movie with Kristen Bell, as they are my two favorite actors from deeply beloved fabulous but cancelled television shows, Freaks and Geeks and Veronica Mars.

I counted down the days until this film came to a screen near me, knowing that there would be puppets, Hawaii, and Jason Segel's junk (Sorry, totally TMI, but it's true). Thusly, I'm not really in a position to write an unbiased review of the movie. Of course I loved it! Kristen Bell was there! Obviously it was great! There was a musical about puppet Dracula in the movie! Jason Segel sang and played the piano! I wish I could have two boyfriends so I could date him too! Cody said it was ok! Should you go see this film? DUH! Yes! A million swoons.

Cody and I watched The King of Kong last night, and it was as excellent as the reviews and recommendations from friends promised it would be. I never got around to seeing the film in theaters (which is why I'm undoubtedly a part of the crappiness of modern cinema. When 16 year old boys are the country's largest theater-going demographic, and I can't find the time or enthusiasm to visit the multiplex even with my free weekends and disposable income, no wonder they keep making crap like Meet the Spartans. Not that I plan on apologizing or ceasing to see most movies for practically free thanks to my Netflix account. Maybe in the future everything of substance or value will go straight to video and only the idiots will pay to see movies in the theater.), but it's been on my radar for months. Recently, interest was rekindled thanks to the bizarre and compelling interview with Billy Mitchell on The AV Club, and on Wednesday, the disc finally arrived in my mailbox.

As reported, the documentary hit all the right notes. It was at turns funny, sincere, heartbreaking and infuriating. No one will be surprised that I thought one of the strongest moments reminded me of a favorite scene from Pride and Prejudice. When Steve Wiebe is playing Donkey Kong and says hello to Billy Mitchell, who ignores him and observes to his wife that "He doesn't want to spend too much time talking to some people," obviously my mind jumped to the scene at Lucas Lodge when Mr. Darcy shuns our hero, Elizabeth. The difference being, of course, that sociopath Billy Mitchell did not eventually learn to correct his personality faults and lapses of judgement.

Well, that, and also that I have absolutely zero interest in seeing Billy Mitchell emerge from the pond at Pemberley in a wet shirt.

I watched 2 Days in Paris on Sunday night and pretty much hated it. I didn't want to hate it, but I couldn't find a single moment to cling to and say 'yes, these are my people, they act like normal human beings.' I have such a hard time identifying with people who make obviously poor decisions and insist on seeing them through. I also can not sympathize with being in relationships where your partner makes you miserable and all you do is bicker, yet you remain because you can not imagine an existence less miserable than your current misery. The people I've spoken with who enjoyed the movie say, 'Oh, but the film was so realistic and honest' or 'But the point was that they were such difficult people,' which I can see, but there was no counterweight to this couple's horribleness to one another, no redemptive factors that showed that we should care about whether they were unhappy as a couple or as single beings. Also, if this movie was a realistic portrait of your romantic relationships, then I'm sorry, that is truly terrible for you. I do not think that I like movies that fixate so pointedly on the dissolution of relationships.

Arguably Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind could be subject to the same criticism, but I think the difference there is that both Kate Winslet and Jim Carey's characters were likable on some level, the story showed a time when it was plausible to think of the couple as compatible, and the plot explicated on additional themes more philosophical and interesting than how hard it is to stay in love with a challenging person.

Everyone who reviewed this movie compared it to Annie Hall, which is obviously valid, but since so many other people who get paid to think about movies hit that note, I'm not going to waste my breath. Further, I didn't really enjoy Annie Hall at all, which most likely gives some insight into why I was so disappointed with 2 Days in Paris.

This weekend, I saw friends and cleaned my apartment and cooked. I also watched a lot of tv. The breakdown is reflected below.

Movies I watched and will return to Netflix today:
1. The Lookout - As excellent as the reviews promised.
2. Bad Santa (Badder Santa Version) - I queued this up because my favorite review of Fred Claus went something like this; "If this movie were actually funny, it would have been Bad Santa. But it wasn't, it was Fred Claus."
3. Radio On - I'm not sure why I had this movie sent to me, but the best part was the ten minute version of "Heroes" that played during the credits where David Bowie sang in German. The film had a phenomenal soundtrack, but I just couldn't watch it. I guess I'm not alienated enough from society yet.

Movies I watched independent of my Netflix subscription:
1. Atonement - Kim took me as her guest to the SIFF screening of this film. It was easily one of the best I've seen all year. Even better than Superbad. It was so good I even stopped minding all the close-ups of Keira Knightly looking beautiful and pensive and chipmunky.
2. The Departed - First time I'd seen it since watching it in the theater last winter. Still good. The cast? Still suspiciously attractive.
3. The last 45 minutes of She's All That - No comment.
4. The middle 80 minutes of Stick It - Even worse than I possibly could have imagined. Actually, no, because in my imagination, this movie was funny and cheesy and a little bit clever, a latter day Bring It On. In real life, it was just mean spirited and clunky and painfully not funny.
5. Say Anything - Still not as good as good as Better Off Dead, except for the boom-box scene.