NormanThePig

I read the book. It was amazing.

I (mistakenly) thought the movie would follow the novel that inspired it.

The House of Sand and Fog is a harrowing tale of how two people are pushed to extremes to obtain ownership of a house that they both believe will be the solution to their problems. Jennifer Connoly is the young, recovering alcoholic and drug addict Kathy Niccolo. Ben Kingsley is the noble and proud Colonel Behrani, fled from Iraq. Shohreh Aghdashloo is Behrani's wife. And everyone else...well, they are alright, I guess.

Sand and Fog is a very well-written, well-acted, well-scored, well-filmed, well-directed, well-designed film with some very good acting and some very good editing and some very good screenwriting. But all that goodness is half the problem.

The film doesn't have the raw, rough power that it should. It emotes; it communicates; it pleases; it questions; but it doesn't do any of that to a notable degree.

The most disappointing part of the film is the stilted story. We get the feeling that we should feel equally for both parties, but we are never given the evidence to support Niccolo's need for the house. All we get is, "My dad gave it to me." We never hear anything else (and, having read the book, there's plenty more to tell).

Thus, the story becomes stilted, and we never feel that Niccolo takes the necessary steps to take back the home that should be hers. She only seems young, naive, ignorant, and angry.

Perhaps this is because Kingsley and Aghdashloo do such a knock-out job as the struggling Iranis. Perhaps it is because the screenwriting seems to have left out many details of Niccolo's history that were included in the book. Who knows?

Ultimately, Sand and Fog is a very good film. But that's all it is. We never feel the raw emotion that we should be feeling. We never feel that Niccolo NEEDS the house. We never feel that need. That need to connect and emote. See it. It's good. Really, it is. Just go read the book after you see it.

I first read "Our Town" in tenth grade. I knew there was something amazing about it, but I couldn't understand, see, or find it. I made it my mission to find out.

Over the years, I have seen literally hundreds of productions of "Our Town," always in hopes of discovering the beauty that it possesses...somewhere.

And here it is. Finally.

This very contemporary, very recent production of "Our Town" is a stunning revisualization of this, Thornton Wilder's greatest work.

The thematic material of "Our Town" is often misunderstood as a look at the ordinariness of daily life and how tedious the mundane is, but this is a short-sighted claim to Wilder's writing, as he provides much more depth and texture than that.

It is biting yet sweet. It is sarcastic yet humbly honest. It is contemporary yet nostalgiac. In "Our Town," life is beautifully tragic, woefully joyous, and endearingly boring.

The acting here is top-notch, as the starring roles are filled by such seasoned veterans as Paul Newman, Jayne Atkinson, and more. Newman especially shines as one who is amused, terrified, and bored with this small provincial place over which he seems to be a kind of non-active deity. Emily's final farewell to Grover's Corners is especially beautiful.

The real wonder of this production is that it is apparent that the production team pulled together to create a solid, collaberative, cohesive piece of theatre that would reach people of all ages, colors, and creeds. All aspects of the production have come together beautifully to create this amazingly convincing work of theatre.

Furthermore, this televised version is a wonderfully rendering of the original stage production. The camera never feels obtrusive, it never feels out of place or foreign. We feel like the audience, not like the camera. We are being led on a tour.

Perhaps it is Thornton's (and the Stage Manager's) brilliant tour-guide-like presentation that makes this work so superbly on camera as well as stage.

All in all, this mounting of "Our Town" surely does Thornton Wilder justice, as it brilliantly achieves what all great theatre should aspire to do: it emotes; it teaches; it explains; it examines; and it humanizes. Do not miss this for anything.

Originally written as a one-act (which manifests itself as the eventual meeting of Terry and Sammy in the restaurant) by stage veteran Kenneth Lonergan, 'You Can Count on Me' is an amazingly realistic look at the filial dynamic and relationships that come from the breaking and separation of family.

Split from their parents at an early age, Sammy and Terry, the older and younger, respectively, are forced to rely on one another throughout their youths until Terry vanishes, travelling across the nation for a long time.

When he finally returns, Terry finds that Sammy has built a somewhat stable life for herself in their beautifully provincial Appalachian hometown with her single-mom life and her adorable son, Rudy.

'You Can Count on Me' boasts honest, believable dialogue and acting in like kind. Laura Linney's performance as the somewhat-restrained Sammy is easily her best, and Mark Ruffalo's as Terry is also highly evolved. The beauty of this film is that there are literally hundreds of places for the plot or action to derail and become an emotional sap-fest ripe with over-dramatic exclamations, but it stays right on track, always honest, brutal, and, ultimately, endearing.

Lonergan has hit a kind of gold mine here. Fans of his hugely successful 'This Is Our Youth' will recognize his work here, as 'You Can Count on Me' is obviously kith and kin to it.

Do not expect breath-taking special effects. Do not expect dramatic exlcamations or exposition. Do not expect the typical or mundane. This film is extraordinarily truthful in its telling of the boundaries we build for ourselves and the ones we love.