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Norah Jones Pigs Out and Dies of a Broken Heart

My Blueberry Nights
My Blueberry Nights;
courtesy of the Weinstein Company

Searching for a Groovy Kind of Love In My Blueberry Nights


A few years ago I had a dream … It began in the summer and was over the following spring. In between, there were as many unhappy nights as there were happy days. Most took place in this cafe in NY, then one night, a door slammed and it was over. I’m not sure whether it really happened or was just another dream …* But after that night in the diner near the Gramercy Park Hotel, when “shitty she” broke my shitty little heart over a piece of lemon meringue pie, it took 365 days to walk off being kicked in the head by love.

Today my resilient love muscle endures, and I’m not just talking about my penis, which is awesome. I don’t need her beauty, her charm; I don’t need rock girls to make me happy. I’m still standing so what’s new? What’s new?? Oh snap, no you didn’t … 

Cue Confetti … Who Forgot the Confetti? 
Here’s what’s new, today is the ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF HOOKER’S REEL. So smoke them if you got ‘em, fire ‘em if you pack ‘em (preferably illegal sawed-offs or semi-automatic flaming cross bows into the air) and throw up your gang signs busters.  HEY … HO … HEY… Oh. 

I forgot I’m not talking to you …* It’s not like any of you SF jerks bothered to attend my Anniversary Bash last night at the Viper Room (sponsored by Finlandia Vodka) but to my millions of loyal LA fans who haven’t betrayed the Hooker Rebellion and are still riding, let me tell you, it wasn't so hard to cross that street (and believe in love again). It all depends on who's waiting for you on the other side …* I have no special someone, lemon meringue’s actually no longer living at the moment … Sometimes life is cruel, just promise me you’ll never go bungee jumping in Mexico, they just don’t have the regulations …*

My Blueberry Nights
My Blueberry Nights
My Blueberry Nights; courtesy of the Weinstein Company

But enough about my horrible past, for all you Reel Fans who’ve clung to every plaintive oink, I offer you this shred of hope for cinematic salvation … I don’t know how to begin, because the story has been told before … but have you ever looked up at the window and realized you were on the wrong side? Maybe someone ran off with someone else, or maybe the feelings just went away? ...*

If you just said yes and need a love fix, sink your cinematic sweet tooth into a slice of Wong Kar Wai’s latest My Blueberry Nights. Opening at the Lumiere this weekend, this isn’t a great picture, in fact it’s the movie I wanted to make in college, a highly stylized post-beat moody romance road movie with lots of cool brooding characters getting kicked in the head by love, being rebellious and acting sexy, all to a smoking Mazzy Star soundtrack. But 12 years later, instead of Mazzy who can be found slinging wheat germ at a Tassajara Bakery in Mendo, we get our era’s version, Norah Jones wolfing down pie after blueberry pie while Jude Law stands back agog at the compulsive binge eater.  Wow, Norah looks great and sings beautiful but (here’s a newsflash) baby can eat, but baby can’t act … and that’s too bad.

Wallowing In That Wong Kar Wai Feeling
My Blueberry Nights
My Blueberry Nights; courtesy of the Weinstein Company

Let me be the first reviewer in America to applaud the Wonger’s effort, but why the same picture every time? It’s the same beef I have with Wes Anderson; they brand a style and stick with it till it sucks. Why not do something different like PTA? Whatever Wes and Wong, I still love you but you’re not as cool as you used to be … Like the famous Ernst Lubitch touch and the not-so-famous Barton Fink feeling, that Wong Kar Wai feeling will only get you so far in this life. But rest assured shank sticks who rent foreign movies to impress the ladies, only to watch two minutes before fucking on the couch, you’re in luck, My Blueberry Nights is for you.

Love Makes A Jerk of Us All
My Blueberry Nights
courtesy of the Weinstein Company

As for the anniversary snubbing, there's plenty of places I can go where people believe in me. I don't need this stuff. And I don't need you. I don't need anything! Except this. This ashtray. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, and this remote control. That's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, these matches, the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. I don't need one other thing! Not one … I need this … What are you looking at? What do you think I am, some kind of a jerk or something?*  And so it is and so it was. Happy anniversary me, be bad and, get into trouble baby*.

Wong Kar Wai Picks to Click
•    Chung King Express (1994)
•    In the Mood for Love (2000)
•    Happy Together (1997)

Volume 60 Footnotes
•    “A few years ago I had a dream … I’m not sure whether it really happened or was just another dream …” – My Blueberry Nights (2008): Pie slinging philosopher kills time navel gazing between 10,000 sexual conquests.
•      “I’m not talking to you … I’ll call you.” – The Big Picture (1989): Super-agent Marty Short schmoozes a fellow shark over an almond torte at The Ivy on N. Robertson.
•    “Sometimes life is cruel and you don’t have the time you think you have.  Just promise me you’ll never go bungee jumping in Mexico, they just don’t have the regulations.” – The Cable Guy (1996): Jim Carrey’s lisp stems from a jump most foul in this underrated gem written by Apatow.
•    “It wasn't so hard to cross that street (and believe in love again).  It all depends on who's waiting for you on the other side.” – My Blueberry Nights (2008): Norah and Jude getting cozy in voiceover narration.
•    “I don’t know how to begin … maybe the feelings just went away …” – My Blueberry Nights (2008): Norah Jones & Jude Law swap spit, share pie.
•    “There's plenty of places I can go … What do you think I am, some kind of a jerk or something?” – The Jerk (1979): Navin R. Johnson teaches the world how to crash and burn with class and dignity.
•    “Let’s get into trouble baby.” – Tapeheads (1988): Soul Train host Don Cornelius (as Hollywood Producer Mo Fuzz) to upstart filmmakers Tim Robbins and John Cusack.