I am seriously in love with Bayar, that Mongolian kid from Babies. I told you! That kid is awesome. What he does to a roll of toilet paper is simply EPIC. And the Mongolian swaddling technique is to be studied and learned from. A baby goes in, and does not come out. For about 12 months.
For a good review with nice slideshow and audio bit, I recommend the New York Times’ A.O. Scott piece, here.
I will not editorialize much on Babies, either you will like it or not. There are some movies that are review-proof for me. I made fun of this thing for three months, and then got sucked it. I simply had to see…the Mongolian baby. When I say I won’t editorialize, I mean about the differences between the African/Asian babies and the U.S. counterpart. Either you can deal with the hippy-dippy earth mother type parenting or you can’t. A nice bag of popcorn and a Coke make it go down easier.
A big plus: With the exception of cute African baby (who has lots of bush dogs), all the babies have CATS. Babies and CATS. It was simply too much for me. My head exploded.
Today I stood in line at the Dollar Store behind someone getting 102 items. Now, my first thought was: Why the fuck do I have to get in line behind the hoarders every damn time? Seriously? My second thought, voiced by the person in front of me, was: isn’t there a 100 items or less line?
It is what it is. We are hurtin’ for certain for money (and yet I went to see a matinee — don’t rub it it, I used the change box for money) and I get beans and soap products at the Dollar Store. There was a woman in line with open facial sores and a shirt that read,” You can’t have a Dynasty without the NASTY!” I wanted you all to know.
The woman in line behind told me she was stocking up because she just got a job after 11 months. I told her I was on my 15th. I congratulated her and asked if I could rub her body for luck. Not really.
We will see what tomorrow brings.