Once is more than enough

Just saw the film Once. Shot in a low key style, this film is about an Irish busker/musician in Dublin who forms a musical relationship with a Czech woman. Its what’s called bittersweet when you don’t have other words to choose from. She’s notices him busking and likes what she hears. When she finds out that he repairs Hoovers as his day job, well, she’s got one that’s not working and the next thing you know they are in piano shops singing perfect duets and in no time in a recording studio. Now its not quite the dog that Music and Lyrics is but Hugh and Drew were a little more fun in the off hours.

One of the problems is that 1. Has there ever been a really great film about music (before you scream out your exception think about how many great cds have been about film) and 2. though the main character is an actual musician (from The Frames) his songs start off pretty good, more than good actually but he feels compelled to torture them (and us) in the final unendingly repetitive choruses (not unlike those bad concert solos from mediocre musicians we’ve all had to sit through).

So, nice moments in between, a musician who I prefer as an actor, nice city and all, a good ending, but the music is a bit much and not just his, but his mates’ music as well, all seemingly based on the kind of inspiration you might get from writing in the loo, in the throes of constipation.

So, that was the rented flick, and then as the dvd ejected and regular television kicked in, oh joy of joys Sound of Music in mid stride. And you know, I never realized before that Christopher Plummer must have been the inspiration for Frazier. Kept seeing him and then Julie Andrews as Daphne. And those kids. A passel of children and unlike as is the rule in most families, the children are inseparable, a group mind, an Austrian borg; travelling in a huddle like young ducks.

But here is the kicker. On my Canadian television station where you can see breasts and other pleasant things fairly regularly, where all sorts of Carlin words surface from time to time, this film has a 14+ warning on it between commercials. Is it the Nazis? Is it the triumph of lust over the nunnery?

Among the amusing trivia on wikipedia is that Pauline Kael (the champion of lowbrow cinema) lost her job at McCalls for a review of this film called The Sound of Money.

This picture is not the best (certainly not compared with the whirling dervish crossed with crucifixion icons of Julie on the hill) but I wanted to draw attention to the Baronness’ dress. What in God’s name is that whorl of fabric on her shoulder? Possibly meant to be an orchid but to me it looks like a waiter spilling his tray. Or an off shoulder echo of the odd hats you’ll see with no visible means of attachment. What, and you thought Charlize Theron thought that up all herself?