Sunday, November 28, 2010

Criccipes - Chestnut Risotto

My parents are out of town for ten days. The house is my kingdom. The kitchen is my playground.

I usually have fun opening the fridge, seeing what's inside and making something up with it. Today I was inspired a warm and cuddly dish by this particularly precious weather.





Thus I give you THE CHESTNUT RISOTTO.

I made it for a party of me, myself and I so I used little quantities. I got a pretty good amount of food out of them though, maybe a tad too much for just one person. I ate it all but to be honest I have a big welcoming tummy. Draw your conclusions.

INGREDIENTS
150 gr. of chestnuts
100 gr. of rice
1 scallion
stock
butter
grated Parmesan cheese

Boil whole chestnuts in salted water for 10 minutes.


Get the engines started on broth. I had leftovers of some my mom made before leaving but if you don't, just get more boiling water and add a stock cube to it. You don't need much, just about three cups.


Drain the chestnuts and let them cool off for about 15 minutes. Open and crumble them into small pieces to your likings. I kept them fairly big because I wanted to feel them crunch under my teeth.


Put a thin slice of butter in a casserole, let it melt and pour one minced scallion in it. When it looks golden add rice to the mix.


When the rice is toasted chip in some wine and let it evaporate while stirring. Once the wine is out of the picture start pouring stock, one dipper at a time, and go on stirring until it dries out. Repeat with a little more stock. Sing something to yourself so the process feels less boring.


While the first dipper of stock starts boiling with the rice add your crumbled chestnuts and blend the whole lot.


Keep adding stock and stirring until the rice seems done (about 15 minutes). Maybe vary the songs you sing to yourself.


Turn fire off, add a slice of butter and grated Parmesan cheese as you desire and stir one final time.


Now you're ready to yum yum.


Buon appetito!

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Rome Film Festival Diary - Monday

Monday was the day I saw The Social Network, and the actor in it. It was also the day I saw Rabbit Hole, and the actor in it. That’s as close to Hollywood as it gets.

First off The Social Network was the only foreign movie in the entire Festival that was shown in Italian. Damn you. I waited months to see this you fools. I abhor you.
As you all know I’m Italian, and not one of my parents or relatives are English speaking, so why do I care? I’ve always cared. I started learning English at the age of 12. Pretty late for being bilingual if you think about it. It was a choice, I wasn’t blessed with it. I did it for the movies, I did it because I never wanted to depend on the loathed dubbers anymore. And I busted my ass. Although it came pretty easy to me it definitely was an effort. I would go to class at night after school and work on writing, vocabulary and speaking, then I would come back home, rent a VHS (yes, a VHS) from Blockbuster (when it was still in business), set subtitles and go for the ride. Subs progressively came off and I could pick up more and more. Movie after movie I got to where I am.
Right now I watch movies in Italian in just three cases: it’s Italian movies, it’s freaking CGI explosion based Avatary movies that have to be watched in a theatre, someone puts a gun to my head.
That said, and after all these years of hard work, I sit down in the fucking cinema at the fucking Festival that shows pictures in their original languages and you just cannot present me with The Social Network in Italian. My Cambridge degrees will come after you!

I already wrote a review of the film on my Italian blog so I won’t go into the details but I will say that Jesse Eisenberg ensnared me in a creepers cage where I would wear an animal skin skirt and he would bang is chest and do whatever he pleased with me. He was that good. So good in fact I was first row at the press conference and ended up going to every junket he did that afternoon (I was free till 6.30 pm, that’s my official excuse).
He’s a charming little man and it seemed to me he has different colored eyes, don’t you think? … Ok well, that’s irrelevant. He knows how to own a room and gave the most engaging press conference of the entire event. Questions notwithstanding. Gosh, what boring questions.
Does he have a facebook page? No, because he doesn’t want to fuel online gossiping about himself.
Did Fincher make him shoot a lot of takes? Yes, 99 takes in the first scene, which he liked doing. It gave him 50 times to do it emotionally detached and 49 times to do it much more engaged and personable, thus he was able to create many different parts of the character.
Was it cold with the flip flops in the snow? Tons.
Has Mark Zuckerberg seen the film? Yes, he booked an entire theatre on opening day for all of his employees at facebook and one of them is Jesse’s cousin so Mark had the cousin send Jesse a text saying “good job”.
That’s what they had him go on about all day. All day. The Fincher story I saw him tell at least four times.

As far as I’m concerned he may not have completed College yet but he sure as hell seems educated and composed. He approaches the profession very seriously. He showed to be thoughtful about society and its issues, his take on facebook is that it allows quiet people to be very loud. And loud people like me to be even louder I would add. I’ll gladly stay in the cage with you Mr. Eisenberg.

      

This is a little video I made. Quite not legit so please keep it to yourselves! The guy is very down to earth, funny and cute. Giving homage with a 55 second silent stint where he does nothing but shines through.

Moving forward, Rabbit Hole is a quiet movie, very deep, great performances but all in all slow, slow, slow. I saw it for free and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Aaron Eckhart met with us, he’s a very quiet person, very deep, great performer but all in all he talks slow, slow, slowly. He looks like a thoughtful monkey, cute but mysterious. I will forever remember him like this.

Creepy profound eerie stare!

One thing he said made my day. He was talking about the actor’s craft and he suddenly dropped his name. I realized I’d never before been in front of a person who actually knew him. There and then I was one degree of separation from Heath Ledger, the undoubtedly best performer of my generation, my inspiration, my love.

I quote Mr. Eckhart and I won’t say anything else, because there really is no need.

The actors that I admire would do anything at any time and in any place, that’s where I want to be. Like when I was working with Heath in Batman he did what I was afraid to do, he did what I want to do and I do do sometimes, but I didn’t a lot on that movie, which was: he was completely and utterly free. That’s what an actor does, and I looked at Heath and I was just going: that’s where I could go. I just tried to go to Heath’s level. Heath surprised us in that movie and so he achieved something that very few actors ever achieved.

Last highlight of the day was The People VS George Lucas documentary, which I had been anticipating. I grew up watching Star Wars although I was never obsessed with it, then when I’m five my brother is born and he eventually fills the household with Jedi fever.
Before the screening I still had a few spare minutes, around 45, so I sneaked in a theatre where they were showing The Promise: The Making of Darkness on the Edge of Town, a Springsteen documentary; I found myself a secluded seat in the darkness on the edge of the room and I slept through it. Sorry Bruce.
Recharged and curious it was finally time for George Lucas. The film was cute, the director was there. Nerd-o-meter jumped to the roof.

From computer to sci-fi geeks, a lot of action and compelling performances this was probably the best day of the entire Festival for me. At 8 pm, after 13 hours on the premises, I embarked on my journey back home. My body is on the underground train, my mind still in the cripples cage. Work it.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Rome Film Festival Diary - Sunday

Sunday like it’s a working day. Interesting. Early rise, but this time car drive instead of metro ride to the Auditorium, makes it feel less worky-ish already. I was in for a movie called Let me in. I found out while lining outside the theater, five minutes before the screening, that it was a horror. I gasped. Looked around for some sign that would suggest me the way. Switch to another movie? Get in?

I’m not too fond of horror movies and here’s why. There’s two categories for these type of films:

First. Very splattery and mostly aiming at you getting sick to your stomach, with blood geysers, black vomits siphoned around the screen and whatnot. Not that much horrific, just stupid, I mean what am I watching? Don’t get me wrong, one of my favorite directors is Quentin Tarantino, I got nothing against blood fountains, it just depends of what use you make of them. I once was so stupid as to agree to watch Silent Hill. Oh come on… The possessed nurses from a Lady Gaga video are supposed to be scary? The men without the heads, the big walking turkeys? What do I make of them? And don’t get me started on The Final Destination 3D. What was that even supposed to be? This guy’s interiors are splattered all over your third dimensional aura and pieces of a vehicle fly over your head, along with knives, nails, drills, snakes and shattered glasses. What is this, Disneyland? What am I, four? How in the world do adult people believe that that could be remotely scary for other adults? I won’t even go into the Saw franchise cause I’ve never seen one of those abominations and nor I plan to, ever.

Second. Dark and eerie, this type of movies plan to have you worried about the littlest swish in the room. They would like to mess with your head, but most of the times just fail miserably as even my couch can predict what’s behind that door, or around that next corner. The only good examples I have for this category are The Blair Witch Project, which I watched when I was 14 and in full hormonal swirl, and Scream, which was still predictable but nicely, ironically done. Other than that we face a full blown dullness. The Ring. What was scary about that? The dirty hair maybe. Should I be worried to answer my phone after I watch it? Yeah right.

Either way the point is these movies are not scary. They are either disgusting, in the first case, or boring, in the second.
I find a lot more adrenaline, and do get scared exponentially more (I’m really just a big chicken shit after all) by thriller movies. More so if they have a spiritual side to them. Let’s try with The Sixth Sense. Not much of an advertised scare but it slowly builds on you; sometimes even after all these years when I wake up in the middle of the night to go pee I’m afraid I’ll meet the dead lady playing with the thermostat in the hallway. Here’s another thing, I bought this cool App from iTunes that records any noise that occurs while you sleep. I have a teeth condition that I want to keep an ear on, also I’ve been told I talk a lot in my sleep and no one ever volunteered to tape me, so I decided I was going to do it myself. Anyhow, I bought the App something along the lines of 10 days ago and I have yet to use it because I’m afraid during the night it’ll pick up noises that I don’t want to ever know were whooshed in my room, like spirits talking, like in the movie.
I say if a story sticks with you for so many years and has you still a little conscious about stuff, than that was a scary story, nothing less.

Well the film I saw Sunday mostly belonged to the first category, kind of sugarcoated though, I mean just the right amount of blood was in it. It tells the story of a teenage girl vampire (not heavily made-up, greatly coiffed, super fit and sparkly) that develops a deep friendship with a troubled kid her same age. It wasn’t scary, not at all, but it was an interesting tale of friendship. Yes, the horror side of the film didn’t impress me, the relationship side did. It comes from Cloverfield’s director and it’s ok to pass a couple hours.

Which is exactly what I did. After that I was out to a bunch of press stuff. First Matt Reeves conferenced about making the movie, and being best friends with J.J. Abrams. I hate you am so happy for you.
Then walking around the Festival I saw Valeria was doing an interview show, so I went in, and ended up staying there for more than an hour.
Finally two well regarded Italian actors, Margherita Buy and Silvio Orlando, were doing a joint symposium to discuss their careers. I was curious about what they had to say, but they actually said close to nothing, except how lovely it was to work with one another. Cut the crap, I’m going home.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Acting it out

It’s the first lesson of a brand new year of acting class.
I do act on the side.
This will be my fourth year going steady. I’m switching to a new instructor, actor extraordinaire and affirmed film dubber (although I hate dubbed movies for the life of me I appreciate the hard work there is behind it and I ADORE his voice [he was Marshall Flinkman in ALIAS, I’ve said it all]) Franco regards groundbreaking theories on the lines of Stanislavskij and focuses his interest on energy, deriving muscular tension and movements. Very fascinating, not to mention life changing approach to Acting, capital “a”, for those in love with the stages of the world, like myself. I’m talking cutting edge stuff that would make Bob DeNiro pee in his pants. And my parents know nothing about it.

They do know I go. But that’s it. Earlier as I got back I hoped once again, to be once again disappointed, that they would be waiting to ask how it went, that they’d be interested. Not a word. I should be used to this by now but I’m actually not.
My parents love me and I love them, and they’ve never had me lack for anything. Except this one little thing. I blame it on their upbringing. We are said to breath our parents in. Theirs were not very good at expressing feelings, also let’s say not the most participative human beings, thus so are mine. It was right after the war when they were growing up and people back then had massive stuff to care for before even thinking of asking their children about their thoughts. But times have changed, we now have that luxury. What makes them not see that? It’s just habits I guess, worse yet character traits, are hard to lose. They probably are a little too conceited in their own bad days, or making plans for the upcoming ones, or just winding down after whatever amount of social activity they can endure, hence what happens around them sometimes fails to ring in. They don’t understand how important it is that they don’t just show me the money, supporting me financially in this endeavor, or in any of my other ones for that matter, but that they also do show me the interest.

Do we ever stop needing our parents’ approval?
It’s frustrating because I recognize a little of that in me too sometimes and I want to eradicate it with all my might. When I have kids I’d rather have some dirtier dishes or one more untaken-care-of crappy mood, but make sure I ask them how their day was every damn time they get back through the front door.
It’s sad because when I win my brush in front of the mirror I never mention them in my thank you speeches for being supportive, I thank them for being enablers. When I wrote my dissertation’s dedication I thanked them for the possibilities they offer me, not for their encouragement.

I feel so much accomplished right at this moment in history, but every time I get back home and my mama doesn’t show that she cares, and she is proud, a little bit of my triumphs are taken away from me.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Admit one

I understand off-side.

Rome Film Festival Diary - Saturday

I had no intention of waking up today, not at least in the spam of one-digit hours. The party for La scuola รจ finita went on till 3 am and that meant I had been up and running for 21 hours straight.

Just got too much of a glamorous packed day under my belt so with the new morning (afternoon really) I opted for a strictly-film streak. I started at 4 pm with The Freebie and 6 hours later I was sitting at my fourth consecutive screening. Two of them were also premieres, with cast and director attending: Made in Dagenham and Oranges and Sunshine. So I got my little share of razzle-dazzle out of it as well. The last one was an Iranian movie called Dog Sweat.
By the time the clocked ticked midnight I was out of the theatres and a little confused. That had never happened to me, but I was now roaming the dark, empty parking lot mashing up storylines from the different films, like I very much believed that that was the actual very bulky plot I had just seen. So all of a sudden a couple from Teheran decided to sleep with other people while she went on strike from a car factory and children were deported from England to Australia.
Maybe someone should look into this scenario. Just throwing it out there. Consider it a gift from me. And my deranged mind.

Possibly to blame is the fact that I ran this marathon solo. All alone.
I'm not sure about how I feel on going to the cinema by oneself. That has never happened to me outside of press screenings either now at the festival or before during year round previews. Is it somewhat nerdy? Or rather sad? Regular paying-moviegoer cinema I mean. I would think if you do that, it means you have no friends... But then again do you really need other people to enjoy a film? It's not like you can talk through it anyway...
I am personally becoming accustomed to it and I kind of actually like it. I am a solitary beast after all. I very much prefer shopping by myself for example. I feel free when I’m alone. The kind of freedom I only otherwise experience when I skip around the house naked. I would spend my birthday shopping alone, and have the time of my life. Maybe it’s fair I add going to the cinema on my own to the list of favorite fantasy birthday activities. And who knows, one day I might really do it to celebrate.

One thing is sure. I will never be satisfied with just one movie per night ever again. That splendid feeling you get when you come out of a screening and you know you will be immersing yourself in another totally different brand new world in just a while is extremely lushious. Like a big fat righteous asset you get because you’re too cool for no reason. Intoxicating!

The only downside, and this I did miss that night, is being able to discuss what you think about the movie right on the spot when it finishes, when you’re still permeated by its spell. That is most likely why journalists write reviews in the first place. Because they watch the films on their own and afterwards they need an outlet to unleash their thoughts on them. That’s my very poetic view on the matter for tonight (of course in the real world journalists get to know each other preview after preview as there’s always the same people in attendance, and thus the magic of this idea bursts)…
Chasing this train of thoughts though I had the insane idea of revamping my old review blog and starting writing Rome Film Festival pieces on it. It took me a whole day and I’m already behind on so much stuff but I am an instinct follower, what can I say. It’s in Italian and you may speak it or you may be happy to learn it through your reading, regardless, that’s where you’ll find my movie related opinions.

Veni. Vidi. Scripsi.
http://cricci-venividiscripsi.blogspot.com

I carved myself the outlet I needed, so when I do go watch a movie alone on by birthday there’s where I’ll be rambling from.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Rome Film Festival Diary - Friday

It was a busy pumpkin in Cricci Land.

Second day at the Festival started at a time which is not represented on my watch, namely 6.30. Usual hour underground ride to get there and 9 o’clock screening of John Landis’ new movie: Burke & Hare. Nothing & Special. The man himself was also there to share some of his undoubtedly fine but equally uptight sense of humor with us mortals. He was somewhat patronizing with the translator and his phone even rang during the conference. It was me calling to ask for a job. No. It was someone who got the wrong number. Swear to God. Imagine that, you dial your mom to make sure you got the right grocery list and you get a freaking Hollywood director. Still it was very unprofessional to keep the thing turned on, although he did mention he was out of it due to jet lag mayhem. He was also very crafty at making it look funny, as it was indeed kind of a smirky-ish situation. Plus he’s John Landis for Eddie Murphy’s sake, you can’t just go and overlook that. That’s to say that I’m largely still wondering if the episode, or the interview in its entirety, bothered me or not. Big questions in life.

John Landis talking to us, not the phone, on the left. John Landis taking picture of us like animals in a zoo on the right.
Day turned to night and it was time for the big “La scuola รจ finita” premiere. I got to meet with everybody from the crew after a year and a half and that would have been just about good enough. But the director had other plans and called the producer on the phone bequeathing him the pleasure of telling us to meet him at the top of the red carpet, because we were walking it down with the cast as a follow up to the previous day protest. Say what?! I wasn't prepared at all. When has the moment I was ever the least prepared for a red carpet been? That was precisely it!

But you know it’s a tough job and someone’s gotta do it. So we all unveiled our secret weapons and our biggest smiles and we started marching.
It was pretty fun. Nerve-racking but definitely entertaining. We were certainly not up front and personal with the engaging flash bulbs or the curious fans at the railings, whom I bet didn’t even notice we were there. But we were slowly pacing behind Valeria, donned in a dreamy moss green gown that truly belonged on the red velvety stream. And when I say Valeria I mean Valeria Golino, probably the most notable and productive Italian actress of the last two decades. She was in Rain Man, just to give you an idea. She is the sweetest, most educated, well spoken and elegant human being I’ve ever met. Totally weird from someone born in Naples, like my mom. If I were to pick one word for her it’d be grace. Graceful on the job, graceful with colleagues, graceful during lunch breaks when she would recount of that time she was being directed by Sean Penn or acting with Steve Buscemi, graceful with journalists and the public, graceful with me, whenever I meet her. I couldn’t have asked for a better debut actress-wise and she knows, I’ve told her.
So escorting her, or rather being escorted by her, in this brave new ride down the carpet was a big fat ruby cherry on top of a cupcake, with icing, and sugar, and a little chocolate chip sprinkle. Unstoppable artery clutching heart attack. That kind of sweet!

Starting the flood. Can you spot Valeria? 
Red Carpet face!
Once inside we got to our exquisite seats, couple of rows in front of the actors, one ahead of the Festival’s jury’s President (so I turned around a lot to have a look at his reactions during the screening. Some of them screamed "bored!" unfortunately), in the midst of the action, and of the clapping, and of the feeling very important for once.


I had already seen the movie the previous day so no surprises there. But it was nice to find out that the production had organized a little party afterwards. We had no choice. We danced the night away.