I saw "Kite Runner" last night at the Egyptian and it pains me, indeed it pains me, that the story about the filmmakers' supposed abuse of the child actors in the film has overshadowed the story about the film itself. That and whoever is marketing this film is an utter ninny (case in point - the gold Biblical Lettering on the one sheet - argh). There is nothing out there on this film other than the fact that Paramount won't comment on these stories and that the release date has been changed so that they can get the kids out of Kabul at the end of the school term. And here's the shocker: the film is very, very good indeed. The performances are stellar, the cinematography jaw-dropping (the shots of the kites over the roofs of Kabul were so beautiful), the two kids playing the friends were so cogent and inspiring on screen at the beginning that the rest of the story just fits right into place. Peter Travers says things were rushed and oversimplified, but having not read the book, I didn't feel that. It actually gave me enormous insight into a culture I know next to nothing about, and I was reminded of my Persian girlfriends in the 70s trying to teach me how to dance with "expressive hands." June and I sat next to Khaled Hosseini's sister-in-law at the screening, who cried effulgently and handed us copious amounts of tissues. Even though the film was shot in China, close to the Afghanistan border, she recalled her own childhood in Kabul, how she was nearly made to marry a military man three times her age when she was 11, and how a blonde-haired, green eyed ten year old at her school was raped by three men and then kicked out of the house by her parents for the shame it put on her family (we found this out afterwards). All around us were Afghan Americans, all laughing and sobbing. It was an almost perfect way to see the movie. I am madly in love with Homayoun Ershadi who plays Baba, the father. He oozes charisma, in that Benicio del Toro way (did I reveal my love for Benicio del Toro here yet? I watched Things We Lost in the Fire, the movie with the worst trailer of the year, and Fell In Love with him. Even as a junkie I loved him).
Afterwards I saw Marc and hugged him before he rushed off to Bond, James Bond. And Walter & Laurie, who just always look good, she in a fetching little kilt, black tights and go-go boots, and he in a grey suit which matched his lustrous grey hair. ("He's quite sexy in real life, isn't he?" said the always prescient Miss J). They have this film and Sweeney Todd this year so it's a Good Year in the Parkes/Macdonald household I'd say. Always with the stupid "Do you miss any aspect of your former life?" questions though....how many people have to ask me that dumb question? No. I don't miss it. No. I hated it. No. I'd rather stick needles in my eye (or shoot peoples' eyes out with a slingshot). Who else? Stephanie K. Pogo. Blum. Don Cheadle. The scary little round lady from Poltergeist. Lesher (with his eyes over my left shoulder). Eric the photographer (who lives in Canyon Country and has a seven year old son named Olivier). Shannon M. Etc.
One thing I know - I really, really want a 1985 IBM Selectric typewriter. The noise that thing makes is just so satisfying.
ps My kundalini yoga instructor, Tej (pronounced as if it rhymes with Page) was at the screening, dressed in her white Sikh attire, nibbling at her popcorn. Gosh, isn't it good to live in Hollywood
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