Top 10: 1999

1. Eyes Wide Shut (Kubrick)
2. Magnolia (Anderson)
3. American Beauty (Mendes)
4. Being John Malkovich (Jonze)
5. The Straight Story (Lynch)
6. Fight Club (Fincher)
7. The Iron Giant (Bird)
8. Election (Payne)
9. Bringing Out the Dead (Scorsese)
10. Boys Don't Cry (Peirce)

I think, really, the Jolly Roger is the appropriate course of action.

In the past three years, Joel and Ethan Coen have given us three completely unpredictable movies, each drastically different from the last. The existentalist thriller No Country For Old Men was followed by the misanthropic slapstick of Burn After Reading, the latter as much an absurdist companion to the former as The Big Lebowski is to Fargo. Both films (along with their 2004 misfire The Ladykillers) suggested that the Coens had adapted a more cynical worldview; it's hard to imagine the Coens of today directing the scene in Raising Arizona where Ed breaks up with Hi without ironic Kubrickian distance. If their newest movie, A Serious Man, combines the comic and somber elements of their previous two films, it's also, surprisingly, their most personal movie in years. Set in Minnesota (their home state) in 1970 (when the Coens were teens), A Serious Man is at once their bleakest and most sincere film yet.

A prologue relates a Jewish folktale about a dybbuk, a roaming demon who takes the form of a dead person, before cutting to 1970 and 13-year-old Danny Gopnik (Aaron Wolff) listening to Jefferson Airplane through an earbud in his Hebrew School class. It is Danny's dad Larry (Michael Stuhlbarg) for whom the truth is found to be lies; a math professor and a strictly rational man who admits he doesn't really understand Schrodinger's cat, Larry's world is rocked when his wife (Sari Lennick) announces that she is leaving him for Sy Ableman (Fred Melamed), a widower regarded in the community as a "serious man." Sy's attempts to console Larry through his own betrayal, as well as false allegations from a student (David Kang) and Larry's brother, who stays on Larry's couch and alternates his time between draining a cyst and working on an all-encompassing probability model called The Mentaculous, as well as other assorted peripheral lunacies, have spun Larry into an existential crisis. We're encouraged to both laugh at Larry's spiralling misfortune and recognize it as our own; it's telling that the Coens admitted Larry was partly inspired by their father, even as they also confess they loved coming up with new ways to torture Larry.

Larry's plight has been frequently compared by critics to Job, although the Coens have pointed out that it's Larry's rational assumptions, rather than his faith, that are being challenged. But there's no question that Larry's story is deeply rooted in Jewish philosophy and humor; if Barton Fink is a horror movie about anti-Semitism, A Serious Man is the Coens' most reflective look at their religion. When Larry asks two rabbis for spiritual counsel, the first pontificates about the wonder of parking lots while the second shares a long parable that only serves to further confuse Larry; the rabbis are the latet in a long line of authority figures sitting behind big desks that the Coens regard warily. At the same time, they're among our most morally serious filmmakers - their films demonstrate over and over that crime doesn't pay. As Matt Zoller Seitz pointed out, the Coens have a pragmatic approach to morality - to do good brings "freedom from fear of loneliness and the nagging suspicion your existence is meaningless" (or, as a rabbi in the film puts it, "A sign from Hashem? Don't know. Helping others? Couldn't hurt"). But Larry's fate doesn't seem connected to his actions. He faces constant challenges to his assumptions about the way the world works, from the sexy neighbor (Amy Landecker) who sunbathes nude and asks Larry if he enjoys "the new freedoms" to the Columbia House representative who insists Larry purchased Santana's Abraxas (Stuhlbarg is hilarious as a man in a constant state of freefall). More so even than No Country For Old Men, A Serious Man wrestles with the seeming arbitrariness of existence - it's equal parts hilarious and deeply unsettling.

As with most of the Coens' films, A Serious Man recreates an extremely specific time and place in meticulous detail. Here, Minnesota in 1970 is populated by stage and character actors we have few, if any, prior associations with; the characters feel as if they're born directly from the Coens' memories of their adolescence. Melamed is a particular standout, his sonorous tones the perfect voice for a well-respected man who urges others to do the right thing even as the "right thing" frequently lines up with his own self-interest. If Sy Ableman embodies the contradictions of early-70s suburbia - equal parts amoral and beholden to tradition - they Danny points towards an uncertain future. Presumably the Coens' stand-in, Danny is inarticulate and constantly stoned, his small-scale problems upstaged, finally, by a growing awareness of the chaotic world around him. What finally connects A Serious Man to the previous two films is an ending that refuses to wrap up the inexplicable, and a wary respect for things that cannot be dreamt up in our philosophy.

Top 10: 1989

1. Do the Right Thing (Lee)
2. Heathers (Lehmann)
3. The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover (Greenaway)
4. Batman (Burton)
5. Casualties of War (DePalma)
6. The 'Burbs (Dante)
7. Sex, lies and videotape (Soderbergh)
8. Drugstore Cowboy (Van Sant)
9. Mystery Train (Jarmusch)
10. Roger & Me (Moore)

Top 10: 1979

1. Apocalypse Now (Coppola)
2. Alien (Scott)
3. Nosferatu (Herzog)
4. All That Jazz (Fosse)
5. Manhattan (Allen)
6. Stalker (Tarkovsky)
7. Being There (Ashby)
8. Tess (Polanski)
9. The Muppet Movie (Frawley)
10. Rock 'n' Roll High School (Arkush)

The Professor was hot.

So says one of the bored high schoolers of Dazed and Confused in reference to the island-bound administrator of SLIFR's Thanksgiving/Christmas movie quiz, which I'm turning in just a bit before MLK day. Four years out of college and I'm still terrible with due dates. If you haven't already, check out the quiz and the rest of Dennis' always-excellent blog.

1)Second-favorite Coen Brothers movie.

Miller’s Crossing

2) Movie seen only on home format that you would pay to see on the biggest movie screen possible? (Question submitted by Peter Nellhaus)

Alien, mostly because I’ve missed several opportunities to see it on the big screen.

3) Japan or France? (Question submitted by Bob Westal)

Not sure how to choose between nations, except to say that I feel a stronger personal affinity with the New Wave filmmakers than Kurosawa and Ozu.

4) Favorite moment/line from a western.

Julie Christie drifting into an opium haze at the end of McCabe and Mrs. Miller.

5) Of all the arts the movies draw upon to become what they are, which is the most important, or the one you value most?

Photography aside, I believe that a film, like music, should ideally be the result of a collaboration between various elements for a cumulative emotional effect.

6) Most misunderstood movie of the 2000s (The Naughties?).

I skipped Birth during its theatrical release due to the mostly dismissive reviews, which now seem like a puerile and reductive response to such a complex and delicate film.

7) Name a filmmaker/actor/actress/film you once unashamedly loved who has fallen furthest in your esteem.

I was a huge Kevin Spacey fan during his ‘90’s hot streak, from Glengarry Glen Ross to American Beauty; he’s only made one movie since that I really liked. I still hope he’ll turn it around, though.

8) Herbert Lom or Patrick Magee?

Magee

9) Which is your least favorite David Lynch film (Submitted by Tony Dayoub)

I like/love them all to some degree; I guess Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me is my “least” favorite, though mixed with the erratic and silly bits are some of Lynch’s best moments.

10) Gordon Willis or Conrad Hall? (Submitted by Peet Gelderblom)

A tie, but if I have to choose, Gordon Willis.

11) Second favorite Don Siegel movie.

The Beguiled

12) Last movie you saw on DVD/Blu-ray? In theaters?

On Blu-ray, Inglourious Basterds – even better the second time. In theaters, The Fantastic Mr. Fox – a little slight after The Darjeeling Limited, but undeniably charming.

13) Which DVD in your private collection screams hardest to be replaced by a Blu-ray? (Submitted by Peet Gelderblom)

Easily Lawrence of Arabia.

14) Eddie Deezen or Christopher Mintz-Plasse?

McLovin’. What, no Screech?

15) Actor/actress who you feel automatically elevates whatever project they are in, or whom you would watch in virtually anything.

Kate Winslet can make a turdburger like The Reader compelling.

16) Fight Club -- yes or no?

It doesn’t seem as deep as it did when I was 16, but yes.

17) Teresa Wright or Olivia De Havilland?

Olivia De Havilland

18) Favorite moment/line from a film noir.

Harry Lime’s introduction in The Third Man

19) Best (or worst) death scene involving an obvious dummy substituting for a human or any other unsuccessful special effect(s)—see the wonderful blog Destructible Man for inspiration.

The only scene that comes to mind right now is the little boy’s skull getting crushed (obviously a melon) in The Toxic Avenger.

20) What's the least you've spent on a film and still regretted it? (Submitted by Lucas McNelly)

I was paid $75 to work on The Game Plan and it was still painful to sit through.

21) Van Johnson or Van Heflin?

Meh.

22) Favorite Alan Rudolph film.

Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle

23) Name a documentary that you believe more people should see.

I tend to not like documentaries that people “should” see, especially if they end with a list of things you should do. But if you haven’t seen Gates of Heaven, you should.

24) In deference to this quiz’s professor, name a favorite film which revolves around someone becoming stranded.

E.T.

25) Is there a moment when your knowledge of film, or lack thereof, caused you an unusual degree of embarrassment and/or humiliation? If so, please share.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people who know I’m into movies treat me like a walking IMDb, quizzing me on release years and who directed what. I usually shrug it off, but I did get pretty tired of being known as “Kevin Bacon guy” in high school.

26) Ann Sheridan or Geraldine Fitzgerald? (Submitted by Larry Aydlette)

Geraldine Fitzgerald

27) Do you or any of your family members physically resemble movie actors or other notable figures in the film world? If so, who?

When I was a little kid, my mom looked uncannily like Sigourney Weaver in Aliens – and honestly, if my mom were in Ripley’s situation, I have no doubt she’d get the job done.

28) Is there a movie you have purposely avoided seeing? If so, why?

I’d avoided both Salo and Cannibal Holocaust until about a year ago. The former was not quite what I expected, the latter was just what I expected.

29) Movie with the most palpable or otherwise effective wintry atmosphere or ambience.

Thank you for reminding me that it’s about time for my annual winter double feature of The Shining and The Thing.

30) Gerrit Graham or Jeffrey Jones?Jeffrey Jones. Who else could believably play Emperor Joseph, Ed Rooney and the Dark Overlord? I hope we see more of him again soon (quoth the Mattress Man – “You think you can be a pervert and not pay for it?”)

31) The best cinematic antidote to a cultural stereotype (sexual, political, regional, whatever).

Walter and The Dude. One’s a neocon, the other’s an aging radical, but they put aside their differences for bowling and the things that really matter.

32) Second favorite John Wayne movie.

Rio Bravo

33) Favorite movie car chase.

It’s an obvious answer, but every time I watch The French Connection, I’m convinced someone is really going to get hurt this time.

34) In the spirit of His Girl Friday, propose a gender-switched remake of a classic or not-so-classic film. (Submitted by Patrick Robbins)

In the Company of Women

35) Barbara Rhoades or Barbara Feldon?

Barbara Feldon

36) Favorite Andre De Toth movie.

House of Wax

37) If you could take one filmmaker's entire body of work and erase it from all time and memory, as if it had never happened, whose oeuvre would it be? (Submitted by Tom Sutpen)

My first thought, obviously, was Michael Bay, but I sort of wouldn’t want to erase The Rock. So let’s go with Gary Marshall.

38) Name a film you actively hated when you first encountered it, only to see it again later in life and fall in love with it.

Barry Lyndon. It was the one Kubrick film that was too misanthropic for me, but when I had to watch it again for an assignment, I realized that it does indeed have a heart.

39) Max Ophuls or Marcel Ophuls? (Submitted by Tom Sutpen)

Max Ophuls

40) In which club would you most want an active membership, the Delta Tau Chi fraternity, the Cutters or the Warriors? And which member would you most resemble, either physically or in personality?

The Deltas. And these days I’m starting to look like D-Day.

41) Your favorite movie cliché.

The spy or assassin or Chigurh walking calmly away from a car or building as it suddenly blows up.

42) Vincente Minnelli or Stanley Donen? (Submitted by Bob Westal)

Vincente Minelli

43) Favorite Christmas-themed horror movie or sequence.

As much as I love A Christmas Story, wouldn’t it be great if another channel ran 24 hours of Black Christmas as counterprogramming every year?

44) Favorite moment of self- or selfless sacrifice in a movie.

The moment in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest when MacMurphy looks towards the open window and his chance for escape, then wordlessly decides to finish what he’s started.

45) If you were the cinematic Spanish Inquisition, which movie cult (or cult movie) would you decimate? (Submitted by Bob Westal)

Apologies to all my friends and loved ones who love this movie, but I fucking hate The Boondock Saints.

46) Caroline Munro or Veronica Carlson?

Caroline Munro

47) Favorite eye-patch wearing director. (Submitted by Patty Cozzalio)

I was going to say Sam Peckinpah, but a quick Google image search reminded me that he did not, in fact, wear an eye patch. It feels right, though, doesn’t it?

48) Favorite ambiguous movie ending. (Original somewhat ambiguous submission---“Something about ambiguous movie endings!”-- by Jim Emerson, who may have some inspiration of his own to offer you.)

Zodiac

49) In giving thanks for the movies this year, what are you most thankful for?

The “Cat People” scene in Inglourious Basterds – for reasons far too abstract to explain here, it will always feel like 2009 to me.

50) George Kennedy or Alan North? (Submitted by Peet Gelderblom)

George Kennedy

That was my favorite arm!

One example of how much Where the Wild Things Are gets right (especially given the many ways it could have gone terribly wrong) is the casting of newcomer Max Records as Max. The hypothetical one-liner-and-fart-joke-filled adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s classic book we’ve thankfully avoided would surely have starred a cloying, groin-kicking little snot. But director Spike Jonze has wisely chosen a Max who is capable of acting as the film’s emotional center – while Records is an agreeably goofy kid, he shares with the best child actors the ability to be completely open. Early in the film, Max starts a snowball fight with his older sister Claire (Pepita Emmerichs) and her older friends, who play too rough and smash Max's snow fort; the fear and hurt on Max's tear-streaked face are more authentic then we're used to seeing in a children's film. This is no small accomplishment, as it's harder than it seems to make a film that truly captures feelings that most of us have tried to forget - like E.T., The 400 Blows and the handful of other great films about childhood it joins, Where the Wild Things Are loves kids too much to patronize them.

As in Sendak's book, Max is a mischief-making kid prone to roaring at his mom (Catherine Keener), but Jonze and co-screenwriter Dave Eggers add more details to Max's life. Here, Max's dad (who we never meet) has been out of the picture for a while, and his mom struggles to balance her career and personal life with her family. Max is worried about his mom, about his sister and her new, strange friends, and about the sun, which - his science teacher recently informed him - will someday die out (the teacher is quite possibly the worst elementary school teacher ever). These opening scenes are brief but crucial; when Max acts out while mom is entertaining a date (Mark Ruffalo), Keener does an excellent job of showing her obvious love and concern for her son against her need to be a grown-up for even one night. The playful inventiveness Jonze demonstrated in his music video work had previously been balanced against the sardonic mind games of Charlie Kaufman's screenplays for the director's first two features, Being John Malkovich and Adaptation. Here, Jonze reveals surprising sensitivity and compassion for his young protagonist; it's clear now that the impish sense of humor found in everything from Bjork's "It's Oh So Quiet" video to the Jonze-produced Jackass stems from a filmmaker who hasn't forgotten what it was like to be a kid.

Running away from home, Max sails to a distant island populated by the titular beasts; led by the destructive Carol (James Gandolfini), the wild things embody feelings Max is unable to articulate. This could have been a painfully self-conscious device, but Jonze and Eggers smartly allow the characters to shift and blur roles - moody K.W. (Lauren Ambrose), with her strange new owl friends Bob and Terry, seems to stand in for Max's sister until she assumes a more maternal role. Gandolfini, in particular, is perfectly cast, his oddly cuddly voice giving way to Tony Soprano's petulant rage as Carol, initally Max's surrogate, turns on his new "king" for his inability to eradicate sadness from their kingdom. Jonze is smart not to make said kingdom a CGI-fest - filmed in Australia, the movie places its Henson studios-created (and digitally tweaked) wild things in a world that feels wholly created out of Max's imagination as he hides in the woods (hence the visits from a dog and a raccoon). K.K. Barrett's production design and cinematographer Lance Acord's brilliant use of available light make us believe in an imagined world, once majestic but now slowly falling apart. Carol's anxiety over the island's desert and things that turn to dust is mirrored in the deterioration of his and K.W.'s friendship - a scene where K.W. lies on the ground, waiting for Carol to step on her face, is a brutal representation of how a child might perceive the breakdown of his parents' marriage. Some reviews complained that not much happens in the film, but as it's the story of a boy realizing that, even in his fantasies, he cannot make everything better, I'd say that a great deal happens.

It's true that this is strong stuff, and Where the Wild Things Are never shies away from its darker implications, from Carol's brutal assault of his rational friend Douglas (Chris Cooper) to the realization that Max has been preceded by many "kings" who were summarily eaten, to the subtle suggestion that Max has experienced serious abuse. There is also the movie's coda, which show in a few wordless images how nothing between a parent and child ever changes, and how this is both a good and sad thing. But the beauty of the film lies in the way that it doesn't pander to kids, expressing serious themes in a direct, perceptible way that honors its young audiences' capacity for introspection and creativity. There were multiple complaints when the film was released that it was dark and weird and boring, and even some of the positive reviews noted that it's not "for everyone." I agree - Where the Wild Things Are is the perfect movie for kids sensitive enough to need it and cool enough to get it.

Where I've been.

I've always been reluctant to talk about my personal life in great detail here, as I don't think it's very interesting. However, my absence from the blog has been long enough, and enough people have politely checked in to see how I've been doing (thanks, guys) that I thought I'd explain a little bit. I'm not at the place yet where I can offer much perspective on everything, but I'll do my best to fill in the broad details.

He enters the stall. The red head is leaning against the wall smoking her cigarette. She shoots him one quick seductive smile. He moves towards her.

MAX
You are so-

She cuts him off by placing her cigarette into his mouth.

RED HEAD
Don’t you ever just shut the fuck up?

He pitches the cigarette in the toilet and goes for a kiss. She forcefully puts her hand over his mouth stopping him.

RED HEAD
Don’t kiss me. If you kiss me on the lips - we’re done. And if we stop before I’ve come, I’ll kick your fucking ass.

- Excerpt from "BANG" screenplay

In the spring my wife, Jessica, became close with a filmmaker whose work I'd been a fan of (it wouldn't be fair of me to be more specific, but search around the internet for a few minutes and you can figure it out) and who'd offered to help with the marketing for Black Light. They announced a plan to make a porn film called BANG, the plot of which concerned a young man who, upon breaking up with his girlfriend, sleeps with seven different women in one night before reuniting with his girlfriend the next morning and having sex with her in a motel. Having just made a movie that is both erotic and very sympathetic to the experiences of sex workers, I wasn't automatically opposed to the idea on moral grounds. Jessica is a very talented and intelligent writer who has always struggled to find her voice, and it was good to see her enthusiastic about something. But I did have some concerns about the script, both as a product of Moth Films and on a personal level - frankly, the idea of sleeping with multiple people as a way of fixing one's relationship brushed up against issues we'd dealt with in our relationship, and I wondered aloud if the script was pure fantasy or if it represented her real views about sex and relationships. I felt like my concerns were reasonable, but she increasingly felt like I was holding her back from becoming her true self. She also talked a great deal about her friend, how she'd finally met someone who truly understood her, and started shutting me out both figuratively and literally, spending six hours at a time chatting on Facebook with the bedroom door closed. I became jealous, and when I expressed this I was told that I was being crazy and paranoid. Communication continued to deteriorate until the end of June, when I offered a choice between counseling or separation; she chose separation.

I spent two weeks at a friend's house to give Jessica some space to work out her plans; when I reached a point where I felt like I was beginning to let go of the situation and would be able to coexist without constant tension, I called to tell her that I'd be coming back to the apartment so I could spend more time with the kids. She agreed to this; that night, I arrived to find her, the kids and their things gone. She'd told people that I'd threatened her and the children and she needed to make a quick escape. She's told people close to me a lot of things, and while there's no question I was far from perfect in the relationship - when backed into a corner I was sometimes sarcastic, passive-aggressive and verbally cutting - she'd basically made me out to be a drug-addled, promiscuous Chris Brown. Which I'm not. I don't know why she felt the need to leave the way she did, but I was left with a trashed apartment, my kids gone without being able to say goodbye. So yeah, I wasn't doing so great in July.

"I don't hate you. I do pity you. After all the lectures you gave me about ego not being able to see ego and being emotionally open and stuff.... You already have all the answers you need to be a better person (not moral, I mean happier, healthier, more confident, and more successful) you just need to put them together." - letter from a friend

Things got better when I started seeing my kids again the next weekend, but I was completely blindsided by the end of the relationship, not to mention the dramatic way it ended, and I didn't really know how to put things back together. Honestly, some of the most theraputic moments during those first weeks were the craziest, like the night my friend Bella Vendetta took me to a dive bar in Deerfield, put an enormous amount of tequila in my system (I don't drink often) and told me "I'm glad you're not with her. I like you more this way" before taking me on a Hunter S. Thompson-esque joyride that ended with us watching Waiting to Exhale in her apartment. Then there were the nights spent up all night in my new friend Amanda's loft, where we smoked and listened to T Rex on vinyl and drew pictures as I thought to myself, "This is exactly what I should be doing right now." I had always assumed that, if my marriage ended, people would see me as a failure; I never expected people would care about me enough to take care of me, and in the midst of the chaos I found a new appreciation for the small good things.

My relationship to movies was strange during this period, which is what made it difficult to write. As I've gotten better I've realized just how serious my depression, which I've downplayed in my own mind as "me being dramatic" for years, had become. Looking back on some of my reviews over the past few years, like this one and this one and definitely this one, I realize that I was struggling to articulate what was going on inside my head as much as I was describing the movies. As Jessica and I left Synecdoche, New York I told her the film was frighteningly close to how I experience things; she replied, "Wow, you're really sad." I could have told you at the time, of course, that I related to the film on a conceptual level, but I could not have told you that Caden Cotard's deteriorating marriage to Adele Lack was frighteningly close to my own. So yeah, I personalize the movies I see - I think it's self-soothing, my own unconscious form of cognitive therapy.

"It's these greeting cards, Sir, these cards, these movies, these pop songs. They're responsible for all the lies, the heartache, everything! We're responsible!" - from 500 Days of Summer

But when Jessica left and I found myself going to the movies alone, I became dependent on them, to the point where I had nothing interesting to say about them. When I saw Public Enemies I was preoccupied with Dillinger's relationship with a beautiful brunette who is always out of reach (because I obviously have so much in common with John Dillinger). I couldn't focus on Harry Potter because of my complete contempt for the stupid little romances of the Hogwarts kids - don't they know that these young romances never last? And I checked out of Away We Go, which I worked on, after about ten minutes, because those insufferably happy hipsters were making me want to vomit (though I did see, at the real change, that I made it into the movie). And of course, there was my movie - which happens to be a heartfelt romance that ends on a defiant affirmation of the redemptive possibilities of love against all odds - to finish and premiere. I felt like I was being made to tap dance while gunslingers fired at my heels. The movie was well-receieved, and finishing it helped me get back in touch with my own feelings about love independent of my marriage. However, more than one person did point out that happy endings like the one at the end of Black Light don't happen in real life very often. Yeah, thanks for that.

"I'm getting in touch with my inner perv. If I came across a pair of moist granny panties in the laundry room, I would likely take a whiff. If when taking out the trash I noticed a couple fucking in their brightly lit apartment, I would likely creep up to the window & watch with lustful eyes. Definitely with a hand in my pants." - from Jessica's new blog

In August, Jessica and I had lunch, and we apologized to each other and things seemed to be getting better. It was around this point that I saw Inglorious Basterds, which was a perfect movie that I needed in so many ways, and which I had nothing more intelligent to say than "Movie awesome. Nazi scary." I'd started to think things were getting back on an even keel, that I was starting to adjust to this new life, until last week, when she called to announce that she was giving me the kids and did not want to see them again. She said that she was a bad person that nobody could care about and refused to elaborate, except to say that she was getting help. A few days later I got a call from her mother; nobody had heard from her in a few days, she wasn't at her apartment or answering her phone. She's staying with her filmmaker friend now, and there's no real way to preface this part - they're making foot porn together (again, search around and you'll find it). I'm still processing this part, but writing it all out like this helps. After the initial shock passed, I looked at her new blog again. I didn't feel jealous or insecure or any of the things I expected to feel; I felt sad, and concerned for her, and hoping this is just a step towards getting her to the place she needs to go to feel like herself, which she's struggled with for so long. I left a comment poking fun at her, not in a mean way but in the way we used to be when things were good, when we could gently call out each other's bullshit and remind each other how well each of us knew the other. And it finally felt like I was truly saying goodbye.

Now I'm focusing on the good changes which have come about as a result of these past few months and which, honestly, might not have happened if I was still married. The kids are with my parents now, and once I've sorted out daycare and other details, they'll be with me; I'm intimidated by the thought of being a single dad and a little afraid my life will become a bad Steve Martin comedy, but I've missed them terribly and I'm happy they're coming back. I'm moving my camera and notebook into Amanda's studio tonight - it's my first office space and I'm taking my first small steps towards making movies for a living. I've made new friends, and my relationships with the friends who've been there all along are stronger than ever. One of the best decisions I've made stemmed from the desire to turn my negative feelings about the situation into something positive; in September I wrote the filmmaker's ex-wife (they split shortly after Jess and I) a short note explaining that I was going through the same thing and that it had helped me a great deal at the beginning of being alone to have people to talk to. We became friends and, in pleasant and unexpected way, we hit it off. Her name is Annabelle, and she's a beautiful, sensitive, smart woman with a good heart; I couldn't have found a better person to share the very intimidating experience of taking the first tentative steps back towards romance. Whatever happens, I know I've made a lifelong friend; I think we both need that security right now. And no, our motive was not revenge, and yes, it is weird to be seeing your ex's lover's ex. I'm learning that a little weirdness can be a good thing.

There are still days where I don't want to get out of bed, where I feel like everything is basically meaningless and not worth the effort. But most days, I feel like everything is possible, that this has all happened for a reason. It's been a fucked-up year, but it's getting better. And I think I'm ready to start writing about movies again; I certainly have a lot to say about the amazing, beautiful Where the Wild Things Are, especially now that I'm Catherine Keener (not Synecdoche Keener - oh, synchronicities!). So if you're still around, thanks for checking in. I've missed you.

"Thank you for being the best friend I've ever had. No matter what turmoils we've experienced and conflict, we always find our way back into each other's arms. Thank you with every shred and ounce of my body. We are truly blessed. My heart is good and better than ever. I think I might be(don't get your hopes up) finally growing up. I love you with all of my heart and thank you for really being a great friend." - an e-mail from Jess, some years ago