I'm suffering from what I hope is just a flu but I decided to come into work. I've got things to catch up on and besides I need the money – I even decided not to go to the Beach House with my family because finances are so tight! At any rate, its quiet at the office today since many people are still celebrating Thanksgiving.

On Wednesday evening coming home from Georgetown I started to get the chills and feel queasy. Sure enough when the minute I walked through my front door I became violently ill and had pains and fevers all night long. I'm notoriously hot-blooded and never get cold but I had to wrap myself in every blanket I could find. I thought it might have been food-poisoning from the end of Ramadan celebrations the Indonesians hosted – suspect satay perhaps? But I was able to eat and keep down food yesterday/Thanksgiving (albeit small portions and I still don't have an appetite) and no one else at that lunch that I've queried became ill. And the flu-like symptoms haven't developed into a full-on cold like they usually do so I just dunno what bug I got…

At any rate, right before I came down with the mysterious illness I saw the delightful The Incredibles. I cannot recommend this masterpiece highly enough. I'm not a huge Disney/Pixar fan at all but that Brad Bird conceived the film was appealing to me – The Iron Giant (created old school animation style and buried, ironically, in the box office by Pixar's instant mass popularity - I believe it was one of those bug movies) is a real tour-de-force and really quite poignant. The Incredibles is bursting with heart, amazingly rendered, and the attention to detail - especially the mid-century elements - is nirvana for a geek like me. Bird has created a marvelous quasi-Cold War universe filled with memorable, fully realized, and engaging characters – Edna Mode is genius! Also, it is one of the most sharply, well written films I've seen in a long, long time. The afternoon matinee audience applauded at the end – that's how good it is!

And by all means stick around through the credits!

Yesterday, Thanksgiving Day, I was just going to stay in bed until I had to head out for The Dinner, but my house was noisy - Housemate D returned early in the morning after a night out, no doubt still hopped on chemicals, and decided to rearrange all the furniture on his level of the house and crank his crappy circuit noize upstairs, followed by a bombastic blasting of the dreaded The Nutcracker Suite. Fuck it ain't even Chritmas yet. And we're talking well before 9 am here. Thanks, D, you know I always tiptoe when you're sleeping it off - how 'bout letting those who fall ill through unsolicited, natural means get some morning rest?

Since I had to venture out into the cold and rain to get flu medicine anyway I found refuge and caught an early show of Kinsey at Dupont. The film is very well acted but I dozed off at the denouement, just as things started to unravel for Kinsey and company. The McCarthyism element of the film actually makes Kinsey an interesting companion piece to The Incredibles. Yikes! Must be the flu medication talking!

Last week I survived two "chick flicks," Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason and the Alfie remake, which I am only writing about as a warning not to see!

Perhaps I was Beyond the Edge of Reason when I caught the new Bridget Jones. Actually, I was Uptown, recovering from a rigorous dental work session and, seeking a diversion in the dark as my gums bled, the film was the most convenient option. The minute the film started I instantly recalled how much I hated the first film. I remembered how much I was disgusted by Rene Zellweger's squinty-eyed and unfunny performance (there's tons of more than capable UK actresses who could have filled the role with more ease and comedy – I don't give a shit how many pound she had to put on for the role!). Some guests left copies of Helen Fielding's books at the Beach House several years ago and I read them – quite possibly sun-stroked state of mind. The first book was a light diversion but the sequel was craptacular and so is the movie. It should be called Bridget Jones: Beyond the Edge of a Plausible Plot. The whole mess was so damn forced! The only thing I halfway liked about the film was Hugh Grant – I like it when he plays nasty.

The "Cool Britania" vibe of Bridget Jones doesn't really jive post-millennium. The same can be said of Alfie, one of the most pointless and irrelevant remakes I have ever seen! The 1966 classic was a biting portrait of post-war, swinging London – Michael Caine's free wheeling, misogynistic, and, beneath the surface, "angry young man," was a telling reflection of times. At the core of the original Alfie were generation specific and hot button issues of class, abortion, and female empowerment – which have little currency in the faux and flashy 21st century New York City of the remake. So, instead, we get a hollow film stylized beyond redemption. I don't know what the producers were thinking with this re-envisioning of Alfie except for as a vehicle to transition Jude Law into leading man status (it fails) or as fodder for the Sex & the City audiences. My god it was so tedious – the only pleasure I got was Sienna Miller's channeling, well, at least on a superficial level, of Julie Christie in her tragic party girl mode– I'm a sucker for that kind of thing. I knew what I was getting into when I let MJ cajole me into seeing the new Alfie – she really wanted to see it for some reason; afterwards, at least I had her agreement that she had been fairly warned by me.

Uh oh, stomach is acting up again... ***Um, is it just me - but is Typepad kinda screwy today...hard to post without things looking garbled. I dunno about all these new features, I kinda was happy with it the old way.****

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