Movie Review: The Great Gatsby

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Image via chud.com

Rating: 4 out of 5

Well, well, old sport! I’m glad to say that I was pleasantly surprised by the latest rendition of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s literary masterpiece which most of us know and love.

However, I can understand why critics are especially negative with this film. With Baz Luhrmann as director and screenwriter and Jay Z as executive producer, we all knew that this could have been an extravagant hot mess. Of course, most still think it is, but I’m of the opinion that it could have been so much worse.

I mean, who could deny how absolutely gorgeous the costumes, cars, and sets were! I’ll deal with Gatsby’s irritating repetition of his catchphrase “old sport,” because all the shimmer and sparkle made me want to throw on a flapper dress and learn the foxtrot!

Given all the pomp and circumstance, I wasn’t expecting such a character-driven film. I felt that the casting was excellent, and I’m not just talking about Leonardo “He STILL doesn’t have an Oscar?!” DiCaprio.

Carey Mulligan was an exquisite Daisy, torn between her love for Gatsby and her obligations as a respectable married woman. Joel Edgerton nailed it as her racist, possessive husband Tom Buchanan. Even Tobey Maguire made a decent Nick Carraway, but that’s mostly because both he and Nick have people constantly wondering, “How did this square get into the cool kids’ club?”

Seriously, how do I get an invitation? (Image via TheGlitterGuide.com)

Sure, this movie was over-the-top and melodramatic. Might I add that the 1974 version was too, just without all the fireworks and confetti. And don’t forget that Fitzgerald’s characters were written to be affected and biased! Everyone’s playing a role in this grand vision inside their own heads–which is why it’s so tragic when everything falls apart.

Cinematically, this film suffers from its emphasis on gratuitous 3D scenes. I could do without the frequent shots of the two mansions across the bay or the tacky depiction of Myrtle’s unfortunate end. But after watching “Romeo + Juliet” and “Moulin Rouge!,” it’s not like Luhrmann’s flamboyant style was at all shocking.

What I wasn’t expecting was how clever this adaptation was, tipping its hat to the one before it. I caught two references to the 1974 predecessor, one where a party guest repeats Mia Farrow’s famous line, but this time to Nick instead of Gatsby. The hissy fit in which Farrow throws clothes at Robert Redford was also altered to Dicaprio delightedly tossing the clothes to Mulligan to display his newfound wealth.

Even the soundtrack was more subtle than I thought it would be. I smirked when I heard “Crazy in Love” during Gatsby’s tea party-induced anxiety, but the songs work in a weird way. And if Kanye West, Lana del Rey, and Gotye make The Great Gatsby more relevant for the Millennial generation, so be it.

So on a scale from “The Golden Compass” to “Fight Club” in terms of how good this adaptation was translating book to film, I’d give “The Great Gatsby” an above average. Perhaps along the same lines as “The Hunger Games.”

I think that The Telegraph’s review put it best when finding the perfect piece of dialogue to sum up the sentiment of this remake:

“Do you think it’s too much?” frets Gatsby, after burying Nick’s living room in flowers in advance of his fateful afternoon tea with Daisy. “I think it’s what you want,” shrugs Nick. Then Gatsby, with a thoughtful look and no apology: “I think so, too.”

So cheers, old sport! (Image via RedCarpetCrash.com)

Book Review Reblog: The Great Gatsby

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Hi everyone!

Today I’ll be watching Leonardo Dicaprio as Gatsby in Baz Luhrmann’s movie adaptation! I am pretty skeptical about the success of this attempt to translate Fitzgerald’s masterpiece on film, especially with its dubious modern soundtrack, but I’m going to go in with an open mind. No matter what, it will make for a great movie review, so be sure to revisit Book Club Babe soon!

To celebrate the occasion, here’s an updated reblog of my book review of The Great Gatsby, which I originally published on Aug. 1, 2011:

Cover of "The Great Gatsby"

Image via Amazon

Rating: 5 out of 5

The novel follows the protagonist Nick Carraway, who has come back from the first world war and moved into a house next to Jay Gatsby’s mansion. Gatsby is a mysterious millionaire obsessed with Daisy Buchanan, an attractive albeit shallow woman married to Tom.

Daisy is also Nick’s cousin, so he comes to know all of the couple’s secret affairs: Tom is having an affair with Myrtle Wilson, who is also married to a mechanic named George.

Although the premise of the novel is simply of unrequited love and adultery, what makes it a masterpiece is Fitzgerald’s beautiful prose. He packs so much emotion and insight into each sentence that you can’t help be awed by the story. Because Nick is the narrator, not Gatsby, you’re like a fly on the wall who feels so close to the characters, and yet so detached from them at the same time. True understanding for the reader is just as appealing and unattainable as the green light shining across Daisy’s dock.

Fitzgerald, of course, writes what he lives. The Great Gatsby is a wonderful opportunity to learn about the “Roaring ’20s;” all the clothes, cars, dancing, and parties really paint the picture of America during this time. Fitzgerald is also an autobiographical author, basing his characters on the people around him, and I would love to read more of his work [EDITOR'S NOTE: I have taken this statement back. Read my unsatisfied review of Tender is the Night to learn why].

Most of you have probably already read The Great Gatsby, but I try not to spoil the novels I feature, just for the few who might be interested in picking them up. And since Hollywood is working on a new adaptation (starring Tobey Maguire as Nick, Leonardo DiCaprio as Gatsby, and Carey Mulligan as Daisy), this would be an excellent time for fans to reread Fitzgerald’s best work–if anything, to get the bad taste out of your mouth from watching the hilariously melodramatic 1974 version with Robert Redford and Mia Farrow.

“Haven’t you heard? Rich girls don’t marry POOR BOYS!”

So feel free to share your love (or loathing!) of The Great Gatsby!

Favorite Quote: ”Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter–tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther…. And one fine morning–So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” (Ch. 9)

Book Review: Pop Kids

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Image via BrightBlackHeaven.com

Rating: 2 out of 5

BEWARE: SPOILER ALERT!

I’ve been dreading writing this review as much as I was excited to read the book. I even blogged my ode to Davey Havok just to ensure the skeptics that I’m still a devoted fan of his.

But Pop Kids definitely tested that devotion.

Why you ask? Let’s sweat the small stuff first, then build up to the real issues, shall we?

1. Grammar Nazis, get out your red pens. Rumor has it that Pop Kids is self-published behind a vanity press. You all know how I feel about that, but I’m not about to dwell on whether it’s true.

However, I can see why this assumption holds weight. Now don’t chuck your books at me, but perhaps it’s because the majority of self-published books lack the amount of talent that it takes to compete in the industry. But even if there were many professionals involved in the editing and publishing process, I’d be surprised, because there were too many typos for Pop Kids to pass inspection. Miley Sirus? Vanessa Hudgins? Come on, if you’re going to write a novel about society’s obsession with pop culture, at least spell celebrities’ names correctly! That’s just lazy.

I know, Molly Ringwald. I’ll never look at “The Breakfast Club” the same way again either.

2. This book is 95% pornography. And not in a good way. Pop Kids is 320 pages and 70 chapters, and only a handful of chapters don’t contain any sexual behavior. That fact itself wouldn’t bother me if this book had been marketed as erotica. It shouldn’t, however, because erotica implies sex with substance. The whole plot revolves around Michael “Score” (short for Scorsese) Massi as he channels his passion for cinema by hosting Premiere parties in an abandoned hotel for his closest friends, whom he dubs the “Filmgreats.”

It starts off innocent with a showing of “The Breakfast Club,” but you know how it goes when you’re “watching a movie.” The parties rapidly devolve into full-blown orgies, topped off with plenty of drinking and drug use. Eventually, Score exchanges his cult classics for the latest Jenna Jameson and Sasha Grey skin flicks. Word starts traveling through the high school grapevine, and more people crash in on the craziness.

I’m no prude, but there’s nothing sexy about these scenes. Everyone is so wasted that in one chapter a girl freaks out when she gets a bloody nose after snorting too much coke. Clearly, under such intoxication, consent isn’t as enthusiastic as it could be. After so much objectification, you just come away from the book feeling dirty. And talk about monotonous! Pop Kids could have been half as long and the point, however pointless, could still have been made.

I’m sure Johnny Marr would disapprove!

3. There’s very few redeeming qualities to this story. I understand that liking the protagonist is not a requirement for good writing, so I’m okay with the fact that Score is a self-absorbed, obnoxious, pretentious waste of oxygen. He worships Morrissey but doesn’t know who Johnny Marr is. He cares way too much about designers and brands, to the point where I wondered whether San Pellegrino paid Davey for all the references.

It’s easy to say that Score’s just a teenager and excuse his overblown sense of importance. However, I find Score and his equally annoying friends disconcerting because their hypocrisy is actually dangerous. Score goes around burning churches, thus breaking the law, destroying property, and giving atheists a bad rep. He touts a straight-edge lifestyle, refusing to drink or do drugs, but he has no problem with substance abuse if it gets girls to take their clothes off. The Filmgreats engage in a ton of sexual activity, but won’t wear condoms because it’s “so ’90s.” What?! Oh sure, it’s all fun and games until someone gets pregnant. Not joking, two of the girls did.

I’m disgusted by how nonchalant all these people are when it comes to really serious issues. At one Premiere party, a teacher invites himself to the festivities, and at another a boy is supposedly murdered. Any of these disasters would cause a normal person to cease and desist, but what’s Score’s actual final straw before he burns down the venue of  debauchery? His crush was not as pure as she said she was. Boo flippin’ hoo.

Fahrenheit 451: The satire for the recovering pyromaniac!

4.  Satire is not a get-out-of-bad-writing free card. I know that there’s plenty of people out there who want to scream in my face, “You don’t GET it! It’s SATIRE!!!“

To those defenders, first off, pump the brakes, cool your jets, slow your roll, and any other calm-down-cliche. I know that it’s satire. I majored in literature, so I’m not stupid. I’m a book nerd, not a book n00b.

But it’s not good satire. Writing satire does not give you the liberty to ignore the essential elements of storytelling. Characters must be multidimensional, plots need the right sense of pacing, and the criticism excels when it is nuanced rather than over-the-top.

Aristophanes, Voltaire, Pope, Twain, Swift–these are a few of the greatest satirists because their mockery provided a call-to-action; their works packed so much intellectual impact that they incited societal change.

“A Modest Proposal” took the gruesome concept of eating infants to grab England’s attention toward Irish poverty. The dystopian classics Fahrenheit 451, Brave New World, and 1984 created outrageously oppressive governments to address political corruption and societal apathy.

I could go on about better comparisons, but I feel that the reason that they’re such powerful satires is that they can stand alone from satire. Without considering any deeper meanings, they’re–at their very core–examples of fantastic writing.

Despite its attempt with flowery prose, Pop Kids isn’t deep, although it gives off the impression that it’s trying so hard to be. And even if you’re purposely looking for a light read, it’s superficial and sad, not sexy and fun.

I’m not the only one posting a negative book review, but I’m prepared for the backlash from fans. Heck, I idolized Davey so much that I thought that I would love this book no matter what.

But you know what? I didn’t. If we’re being totally honest here, my adoration of Davey is the only reason that Pop Kids managed to get two whole stars out of me. But just like I can complain about my government and still be a damn proud American, I can be disappointed by a book and still love its author. 

So bring on the hate mail if you must. Scathing comments aren’t going to hurt more than falling off the pedestal on which I put this novel. Supposedly, it’s part one of a trilogy, and now I’m facing the dilemma of deciding whether reading the sequels would be the actions of a die-hard fan or a delusional masochist.

In the meantime, I’ll be psyching myself up by listening to AFI and reminding myself that Davey is capable of pure poetry.

Image via Wikimedia Commons

“I was too touched to see you clearly, far too young to realize, I had loved so dearly, you whose world I had designed, but the sweet smoke came with mirrors, and it brought tears to my wide eyes.”

Prelude to Pop Kids: My Ode to AFI’s Davey Havok

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Have you ever idolized someone so much that you believe that he can do no wrong, but then something happens that makes you question whether you really know him at all?

The something in this case is Pop Kids, the first novel written by my favorite musician Davey Havok of the rock band AFI.

Of course, unlike our friends and families, we can’t really know celebrities at all in the first place. My opinion of Davey (actually born David Paden Passaro) has been crafted by his art, appearance, interviews, and societal sentiment. And so far that opinion has been untarnished…

But before I launch into my review of his book, I wanted to share what Davey has meant to me up until now.

It all started in 2006 with this music video that I saw on TV:

“Miss Murder” (which included the intro “Prelude 12/21″ in this long version) was the lead single off AFI’s seventh studio album Decemberunderground. At the time I had no idea that this amazing band had been around since the early 1990s, breaking into the punk rock scene out of Northern California.

All that was going through my mind watching this video was, “Who is this band?! And who’s the lead singer? His look is a bit strange, but in a cool way. Digging his hair and makeup and piercings. Wow, I’m in love with this sound. And the whole cryptic cult leader thing going on is so badass. OMG where has this band been all my life?!?!“

Just like that, AFI became my favorite band of all time and has continued to be so for seven years. And although I prefer their more recent albums (since Sing the Sorrow), I respect their humble beginnings. Every fan has their favorite era, but I’m proud of how the band, and especially Davey’s voice, has evolved with each production.

Everyone on the current lineup–Davey, Jade, Adam, and Hunter–is so crazy talented. Listening to AFI has been a way for me to celebrate the best of times and get through the worst of times. When I finally saw the band play live a few years ago, the moment they walked out on stage, I couldn’t help but cry. A bit dramatic, yes, but if you’re a part of the Despair Faction (either officially or unofficially), you know exactly how much their music means to you.

Wrex the Halls 2009 in San Diego

Wrex the Halls 2009 in San Diego

My “relationship” with Davey has always been unique to me, as he’s one of the few vocalists I don’t fangirl for, at least in the traditional sense. Although handsome in his own right, I don’t swoon over him like I do for Jared Leto from 30 Seconds to Mars or Tyson Ritter of The All-American Rejects.

Regardless of his often-debated sexuality, I don’t want to date him; I just want to hang out with him, maybe discuss existentialism over vegan muffins, you know? To me, he’s the epitome of cool, whether it’s performing on Broadway in Green Day’s “American Idiot” or modeling for Tarina Tarantino. Not to mention, his straight-edge lifestyle makes him an inspiration to people around the world.

Davey has worn many hats–singer, songwriter, actor, model, fashion guru–and worn them so well that it seemed only natural that he write a novel. After all, how can you compete with the poetry of his lyrics?

So who will follow? Who is the lead? I know I leave a stain, because I bleed, as we dance, we all dance, we all…have no chance in this horrid romance. ~ “Dancing Through Sunday“

City lights, like rain, dance and explode, fall upon debutantes, reeling from nights that kiss and control, all of our broken hearts. ~ “Kiss and Control“

Give me something I can take to make the memories fade, poison kiss, remember this, I never was meant for this day.~ “Fainting Spells“

Will the flood behind me put out the fire inside me? ~ “The Missing Frame“

Well, it turns out that no one has the Midas touch, not even my idol whom I thought was a master wordsmith. In fact, I have so much to say about Davey’s debut novel Pop Kids that I felt obligated to write this blog post as a disclaimer.

I still love Davey, and I can’t imagine not loving AFI. But my perceptions have changed during this reading experience and the light of reality is starting to shine through. I’m sure that this effect is exactly what Davey intended in his critique of society’s obsession with pop culture. Chapter by chapter, he killed my darlings.

But much more on that later. Better microwave some popcorn and make yourself comfortable, because I’m about to release one hell of a review.

Things are about to get interesting…

Audiobook Review: The Penelopiad

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Cover via Amazon

Rating: 4 out of 5

It seems that I just can’t get enough of ancient Greek mythology, but it’s difficult to pick a good adaptation in the Aegean-sized sea of mediocrity. Fortunately, you don’t have to worry when Margaret Atwood is the one penning the words.

Atwood is, of course, the author of the renowned The Handmaid’s Tale, so it’s no surprise that she reimagines Homer’s Odyssey from Penelope’s perspective. Since the original poem concerns itself with warrior Odysseus and his arduous journey to return home to Ithaca, Atwood depicts what his wife was doing for those twenty years while he was gone.

True to her feminist form, Atwood gives Penelope more depth and dimension. The princess proves resourceful and cunning, evolving from a naive young girl into a strong leader of a kingdom. And as for those pesky suitors, she simply plays coy as to what really happened and whether she was really as faithful as history has made her out to be.

And given that Penelope is narrating her tale from the underworld, the reader also hears her insights on how religion and spirituality has changed from ancient Greece to the present day. For a woman who experienced the meddling of gods, it’s disconcerting to watch immortal power mocked by foolish fortune tellers and magicians.

What haunts Penelope the most, however, was her husband and son’s massacre of her 12 maids while she was asleep. I mean “haunt” literally, since the maids torment Penelope and Odysseus in the underworld for their unjust deaths.

This is one of the reasons many people, even Atwood herself, are hesitant to call The Penelopiad a feminist retelling. Penelope is naturally a biased narrator. Typical of ancient Greek drama, every now and then the maids appear as a chorus to reveal their point-of-view.

This proves most insightful, because while Penelope complains how her sister Helen’s vanity ruined her life by inciting the Trojan War, the maids point out that they were born poor, enslaved into an existence where they were raped by men and treated like cattle. The princess’ woes seem minor in comparison, as if the chorus serves as a reminder of real suffering unlike her #FirstWorldProblems.

The maids are probably the only reason why I would recommend this novella in audio. It was nice to hear them sing both as individuals and as a group, especially since their voices were enhanced with echoing to give off an even creepier vibe.

The Penelopiad (2005) would be a great addition to courses in classical literature, since its parallels to the Odyssey are so nuanced that they deserve closer academic research. I also learned that as a novella in the great Canongate Myth Series, The Penelopiad shares literary acclaim alongside other modern adaptations, including The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ (2010) — a story by my favorite author Philip Pullman which I haven’t had the chance to read yet.

So if you also enjoy ancient Greek mythology, pick up The Penelopiad for an interesting take on one of the world’s most popular tales.

Honoring Armenian Genocide Memorial Day

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For those who have been reading my blog, you already know that I’m deeply proud of my Armenian heritage. But if you’re new to Book Club Babe, today is the 98th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide, a horrific tragedy in which over 1.5 million Armenians were massacred by the Ottoman Turks during World War I.

I won’t go into too much detail of the historical event, since I’ve already done so in last year’s post, but I encourage you to educate yourself on the genocide, given that Turkey, the United States, and many other countries still fail to recognize it as such.

But this year, I didn’t want to dwell on my ongoing frustration with the American government valuing military alliances over human rights. Instead, I wanted to share some fun facts on Armenians and their culture. It’s a shame that most of the world has never even heard of this country, met any of its amazing people, or eaten any of its delicious food!

So let’s jump right into the trivia!

Capital city of Yerevan

10 Fun Facts about Armenia

1.     Armenia is a tiny country, only about 11,500 square miles. That’s smaller than the state of Maryland!

2.     Written records of the Armenian language date back to the 5th century CE. It has since evolved to have 38 letters, much to the dismay of Armenian-language learners.

3.     And despite its tiny geographical size, two Armenian dialects exist: Eastern and Western. Some differences are seen in a swapping of letters, from b to p and k to g (For example, you say “hello” as “barev” in Eastern and “parev” in Western).

4.     Armenians call their country “Hayastan,” which has led to the modern members of the diaspora to refer to themselves as “Hyes.” So if you see a bumper sticker declaring “Hye Pride”–no, it’s not a misspelled proclamation of drug abuse!

5.     On the flip side, anyone who is not a “Hye” is called an “odar,” an outsider.

6.     The national currency is the Armenian Dram. The rate as of today is $1 USD = $416 AMD.

7.     Armenia officially achieved independence in 1991, after thousands of years of being controlled by “Assyrians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Arabs, Mongols, Persians, Ottoman Turks, and Russians.”

8.     The Armenian Genocide is a reminder of how different the country is compared to its neighbors. Labeled as everything from Eastern European, Mediterranean, and Middle Eastern, it’s difficult to explain its geograpical uniqueness. But to this day, it remains predominantly Christian, despite horrendous efforts to change that through ethnic cleansing.

9.     The Armenian Apostolic Church is the world’s oldest national church and observes  Christmas on January 6th to coincide with the Epiphany. The Roman Catholic Church also observed this date until the 4th century CE when it allegedly changed the date to December 25th to undermine pagan winter solstice celebrations like Saturnalia.

10.     There are some fabulous famous people of Armenian descent. The easiest way to tell is to spot surnames that end in “-ian” or “-yan,” which means “issued from-” So “Petrosian” is the Armenian version of “Peterson.”

Cher in Armenia, 1993

Here’s a list of celebrities of Armenian heritage:

  • Andre Agassi, tennis player
  • Ross Bagdasarian, creator of “Alvin and the Chipmunks”
  • Cher (Cherylin Sarkissian), singer/actress
  • System of a Down, rock band
  • Dita von Teese, burlesque artist
  • Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple Inc. (adopted by Armenian woman, Clara Hagopian, who taught him the language)
  • Princess Diana (ok, she’s only 1/64th Armenian, but once a Hye, always a Hye!)

So there’s plenty of other famous Armenians besides the Kardashians! (Thank goodness!)

Took the words right out of my mouth, Kourtney!

Anyways, I hope that you learned a lot about my culture. Please share these fun facts with everyone you meet today to honor Armenian Genocide Memorial Day!

Non-Fiction Week: On Writing

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Cover of "On Writing: A Memoir of the Cr...

Cover via Amazon

Rating: 4 out of 5

Today is the last day of non-fiction week, and I’d be lying if I said I’m sad that it’s over. Turns out blogging for five consecutive days is a lot harder than I imagined. On the bright side, I’ve reached a new milestone of 30,000 total views, so that makes all the work worth it!

I am glad, however, that I chose Stephen King’s On Writing as my last piece of non-fiction. I’ve never actually read one of King’s fictional novels, because I’m a huge scaredy-cat, but this half-memoir, half-writing-guidebook was one of my favorite books from my creative writing classes at UC Santa Cruz.

On Writing (2000) is great precisely because King has lived a fascinating life. I appreciated his honesty when discussing his drug abuse and enjoyed excerpts where he explained the origin stories of his novels (for example, did you know that it was King’s stint as a janitor cleaning girls’ locker rooms that led to Carrie?)

And let’s face it, King is so crazy rich and famous in the literary world that it’s natural to be curious to learn his secret to success. Readers usually love the “Toolbox” chapter the most, as he lays down his rules to good writing.

Here are a few of my favorite quotes, courtesy of Goodreads:

  • “The road to hell is paved with adverbs.”
  • “Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.” 
  • “Can I be blunt on this subject? If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”
  • “Sometimes you have to go on when you don’t feel like it, and sometimes you’re doing good work when it feels like all you’re managing is to shovel shit from a sitting position.”

King also shares edits of his own work and ends with a list of the books which most influenced him. I like his straight-shooting, unapologetic approach to writing, and I’m still reminded of his advice years after reading it.

And speaking of reading, I know that it seems a travesty that I haven’t read more of King. Anyone want to recommend a book or series of his that won’t give me nightmares? Please and thanks!

I hope that you’ve enjoyed Non-Fiction Week here at Book Club Babe! Now it’s time for me to enjoy the weekend!