Hollywood and HereAfter


Hollywood creates movies designed primarily to entertain a mainstream audience. I get that. I really do. The high-rolling movie executives are in the business to entertain a mainstream audience and hope to make a lot of fucking money while doing it. Good for them. The trouble for me is, I’m not a mainstream movie watcher, so every time I think I’ll take another chance; roll the lucky Hollywood dice and hall my cookies off to one of the super-duper Cineplex venues, where they cater to Hollywood wonders, I’m usually always disappointed. I’m left feeling flat.

So, in the case of the Hollywood film I saw over the weekend, Hereafter, I was once again left feeling a bit empty. And I really wanted to like this film. The film is supposed to be about the exploration of life after death. A topic that has such potential for great emotional depth. Yeah, and the potential in this movie, it was right there, just begging to be come out and be noticed. But good ol’ Hollywood substituted strong and often conflicted character development for dramatic sensationalism. And I’ll admit that I was lulled into temptation by the films cinematography at times, but that didn’t have anything to do with why I went to see this film. The acting by most of the characters was okay, but certainly not great. I think the direction should have gone another way, and gone much deeper; pulling me into something believable; something emotional stirring; something…anything where mediocre good, gets Oscar great.  

After Hereafter was over, I couldn’t help and wonder if other movie goers, maybe even some of the mainstreamers that Hollywood executives bank on, would also scratch their heads like I did, and have the same feelings of flat about Hollywood’s version of the Hereafter.



Always and forever thankful for my art house venue of wonderful -
Neve Black

Spanish Sexto

So my blog posts have had a lot to do with what’s going on in my life these days, as opposed to getting down on my hands and knees and peering into someone else’s world, ahem…specifically the neighbor’s sexual habits.  


Suffice to say, the posts I’ve been writing have more to do with my thoughts and what’s been going on in my own erotic head…and certainly not everything that goes on in my head, mind you, because let’s be honest, there just isn’t enough time in the day, plus I can’t share all my naughty secrets. Meow.


For me, Sunday evenings appear to be the time when I slow down a bit; pour myself a glass of vino, while I pour something into the blog-o-sphere to you, loyal reader.


It should come as no surprise to you that my life, thus my thoughts are consumed with Spanish. And I know I sound a lot like someone’s favorite song that keeps repetitively playing, Spanish, Spanish, SPANISH, because Spanish consumes a large part of my world now. And I kinda’ think Spanish is going to consume my world for the rest of my life too: I study, think, cook, translate and dream about Spanish – everything Spanish. And that of course includes Spanish films. After all, film is one of my lovers.


Tonight I took a break from working (blah) and from studying reflexive verbos, and watched what is now considered one of my favorite films –Lucia y el Sextodirected by Julio Medem. Good lord not only did el sexto in this film make me squirm and feel loosey-juicy, but the plot, the acting (easy on the eyes) and the undertow of parallel universes was superb, no sensational, no spectacular. Yes, spectacular. Oh, and this film is sort of an oldie (2002) that somehow snuck passed my Spanish radar, because I’d never seen the film before tonight. The film was nominated for 11 Goya awards (Spanish equivalent to an American Oscar).



Quito todos mis las ropas (both reflexive and erotic)
Neve Black

My Spanish Disciplinary

I haven’t had much time for neither one of my two lovers lately, writing and film. My Latin lover, Spanish can be rather all-consuming. I’ve heard that most traditional Latin men can be possessive by nature, and if learning the language is any indication…well, let’s just say Spanish doesn’t allow me much time for anything else.  I think the Spanish language must fall into the masculine-dominate category.

I must need to be dominated in some way, because I keep going back for more…meow.  And I suppose that’s another blog post. Double meow.

I’ve had a film sitting around for the past week that I picked up at the library. It’s been begging me to watch it – it’s of course a Spanish film with subtitles (can you faintly hear the crack of his dominating Spanish whip, keeping me line?). I grabbed my Spanish verbo flash cards and left my opened Spanish book on the desk downstairs, while I tip-toed off to watch the film.



Gigante is set in Uruguay (“good choice, Neve” my Latin disciplinary whispered in my ear). As I munched on empanadas, I thought what a gorgeous little sleeper of treat this film was to watch.  One film review said,  “The story revolves around Jara (Horatio Camandule), a supermarket security guard whose physical mass is belied by his shy, sweet blue eyes” – my review is that this film is a gentle, giant and sweetly humorous, paradoxically set against economic crisis – so it exudes sympathy.

If you can get out from under…or if you need a break from the disciplinary in your life, rent Gigante, it’s a nice film, with a moderate political message and a happy ending.


Crack! Spanish is calling for me -
Neve Black