Lars (Ryan Gosling) is a recluse who, as recluses tend to do, hides himself from the world. He shuns the advances of a girl from work (Kelli Garner), and avoids any sort of situation (i.e., breakfast) with anyone. After a bit of a confrontation with his sister-in-law (Emily Mortimer), he gets a Real Doll, Bianca, from the web and claims he “met her on the internet”. She is wheelchair-bound, but very sweet. Lars treats her like she’s completely real and the town decides to go along with it to help Lars through whatever psychological delusion he is having. As a result the whole town bonds with Bianca, and helps Lars come to terms with how the world works.

And no, he doesn’t sleep with Bianca.

I found it surprisingly entertaining, though a bit run of the mill. I saw everything coming before it happened including the ending. I’m not saying that’s bad by any means because it was a very sweet movie, and made me smile for a good while after watching it. It’s just a nice movie to watch, especially when you’re feeling a bit of a recluse yourself.

It has a strong feeling of coming of age, but by throwing it through such a different light it allows you to appreciate it without having the cast all 28-year-olds pretending they’re 17 at the prom. There are deeper moral lessons to be found within the film, if you’re willing to look for them; the largest and most prominent is the idea that you should help those you love, regardless of what that means. There is a scene where Gus and Karin argue about going along with the Real Doll that I just have to quote here:

Lars Lindstrom: You don’t care.
Karin: We don’t care? We do care!
Lars Lindstrom: No you don’t.
Karin: That is just not true! God! Every person in this town bends over backward to make Bianca feel at home. Why do you think she has so many places to go and so much to do? Huh? Huh? Because of you! Because – all these people – love you! We push her wheelchair. We drive her to work. We drive her home. We wash her. We dress her. We get her up, and put her to bed. We carry her. And she is not petite, Lars. Bianca is a big, big girl! None of this is easy – for any of us – but we do it… Oh! We do it for you! So don’t you dare tell me how we don’t care.
[walks into house and slams door]

Something about this scene just touched me. It’s so strong and so honest that it endeared me to Karin for the rest of the movie.

The music (and in many scenes the stark lack of) was amazing, and I’m trying to get my grubby little hands on it. It’s been a while since I’ve seen music that suits a movie so well. Ryan Gosling gives an admirable performance as Lars, and kudos must also go to Karin, his sister-in-law. The cinematography was top notch considering one of the actors wasn’t even real. Despite this setback, scenes are still filled with the emotion needed to carry it through with flying colours.

I have to complain about two things. The first is the rest of the cast: everyone else seems very cookie cutter. The older brother who snorts at the idea of his brother having a delusion; The awkward-cute girl that likes Lars; the work pervert; the black girl; the knitting circle; etc. Lars and Karin are the only two characters with any real character. My second annoyance is with the multiple instances of montages. At least four happen throughout the film, and I couldn’t help but let it bug me.

Watch this movie. It won’t win any awards, but it’s a solid movie from every aspect. Good story, great acting, fantastic music, and a warm fuzzy moral in the end.

7.5/10

“My Darling,” he began. His voice broke, and the words that he had rehearsed so carefully were gone. He closed his eyes, and when he could speak again more words came, unplanned. “Oh, my love” he said. “I’m so sorry. Our little daughter died as she was born.”
Excerpt from The Memory Keeper’s Daughter

The Memory Keeper’s Daughter spans over 40 years of the Henrys family history. When David Henrys wife gives birth to twins, he is overjoyed, until he realizes that one, a girl, has Down Syndrome. In a split-second decision, he hands his new-born daughter to his Nurse and tells her to take her to an institution for those with Downs. He does so thinking that what he is doing for the best, but the decision will go on to haunt him for the rest of his life. The nurse, Caroline, also makes a split-second decision and takes the child to Philadelphia and starts a new life. As the years go by, David and his wife grow more and more distant as the secret slowly tears at the fabric of their family life. As they unravel, unable to stop what has been set in motion, everyone must find their own way in life.

The first couple chapters were a bore. I’ll admit that it took me nearly a month to get through the first 100 or so pages. After that point (somewhere around there anyways) the book hooked me, and I finished the rest in record timing. The story is fluid and interesting, but also quietly sad. It’s an interesting point of view to take; watching as a father who meant to only do good, cause so much sadness and separation. The time-line is easy to follow, for the most part. I had a bit of trouble picturing the characters at their correct age, though that is partially my own fault for not noting the dates in the book.

What really got me about this book is the silent controversy that it inspires. To give away ones child seems utterly barbaric, and yet he was honestly doing what he thought was best. Children with Downs Syndrome did not have a very good survival rate in 1964, and he was trying to spare his wife the pain that would ensue from raising a child with Downs. On the flip side, he did give their daughter away, and then lie (and continue to lie) about that action through the entire novel. Was he right to do it? I won’t answer that, because I feel that our past actions dictate who we are now. He did what he did, and he lived with it. I personally respect that, regardless of the consequences.

I must also sing praises to Ms. Edwards for bringing to light how hard it was for those raising Down Syndrome children. Parents had to fight for every right that they felt their child should have. Proper health care, public education, employment, and the list goes on. The struggle that Caroline goes through to raise Phoebe is an impressive read in and of itself. Package that with the fact that there was an uneasy, yet deep connection between Caroline and David because of their daughter, and you get a true understanding of just how hard their lives really were.

The novel also shows that though mentally slower than normal people, those who have Down Syndrome are no less entitled to things in life. Their achievements, though possibly smaller-seeming to ‘normal’ people, are in fact no more or less significant than any other persons achievements.

I wasn’t expecting this book to be nearly as good as it was, and I’m thankful for that. It’s not a book for everyone because it can drag on at times, and the chapter sizes are epic to say the least. Either way it’s a proud addition to my shelf, and I’m a little sad to see the end of it.

7.5/10

The Witch could wait. They would meet again – Excerpt from Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West

The book is quite literally about what it says it is about: The life and times of the Wicked Witch of the West. Seriously, that’s what it is about. The book centres around the life of Elphaba, the green-skinned, sharp-featured and sharp-tongued girl who would one day be the Wicked Witch of the West, and who would be felled by a young girl from Kansas. The book is split into different stages of Elphaba’s life and seem more like snippets rather than entire sections. I had to admit that I was skeptical about what this book could possibly provide for me, but at 519 pages (at least my copy was) it had to be saying something.

As it turns out it says an awful lot, and for the most part it does so with page-turning entertainment. It touches on many topics that though Elphaba seems to be intertwined with, is not the direct cause of. Topics such as segregation, political intrigue, affairs, oppression, and depression. Though these topics may be old hat to those who pay attention to the world around us, it must still be noted that these very topics are so casually and seamlessly integrated into the book that I didn’t even realize how well a job Mr. Maguire had done until I was nearly done the book. The writing style is both smooth and easy to follow and doesn’t get bogged down with the multitudes of detail that plague many fantasy novels.

Mr. Maguire does a very good job of building a world that mirrors what was originally made, but adding his own touch of realism to it. Gone are the sing-a-longs and the joy joy feelings, and in their places are real characters, a depth to the different peoples of Oz, and an underlying tension within the societies. Characters are given as much back story and development as is needed, which may sound like a bit of a cop-out, but it isn’t. The characters don’t seem shallow, but neither are there pages dedicated to needless character introductions when they do not play a major role.

As previously mentioned, the book is cut into sections which dictate the happenings throughout Elphaba’s life within given points in time. This is a double-edged blade, as there are sections that I wanted to continue reading, and others – namely the last – that I wished to be shorter. I admit that there must be a cutoff point for each section, lest the book move more into the 3000 page region, but still. I will say that i liked the book for the most part. All sections excluding the last were enjoyable and drew me in. Gregory really knows how to make you feel for people.

Then the last section comes along, and it gets very meta-physical and sort of fizzles out. The book ends much as one would expect, but I found the ending to be rather weak in comparison to the rest of the book. It left a sour taste in my mouth and had me wishing that I had stopped reading a couple chapters before the end. This is easily the novels major problem. The rest of it is a solid read it’s the ending that takes away from it all.

A good read, and worth reading at least once to say you have (it makes those Sunday talks in the knitting circle that much more cultured) and I’ll still end up reading at least Son of a Witch.

7/10