Film Review: THE BURIAL

Spoiler alert: There's no burial in The Burial, now streaming on Amazon Prime .... just in case you start wondering. Instead, there is a long courtroom drama -- the film runs just over two hours -- about a lawsuit stemming from a contract dispute between a small-town funeral home director and a large, evil conglomerate of nationwide funeral homes. (They both also sell burial insurance, hence the title.)

But what this film really is is a tour de force by Jamie Foxx. My husband thinks tour de force is hackneyed and pretentious and suggests I just say he was "amazing" instead. But I will stick to my guns and risk sounding pretentious because his performance is so powerful. And I don't even particularly like the guy, or I didn't until this movie. Now I want to have a Jamie Foxx filmfest at home.

I won't tell the whole story; why ruin it? But there are some things you should know beforehand:

1. Tommy Lee Jones, an actor I have long adored in every movie he's ever been in, looks about 100 years old in this one, but he's supposed to be 75. (He is really 77.) His face looks like a leather catcher's mitt and his nose appears about to fall off. (Perhaps the make-up artists were on strike when this was made?) Still he delivers his character perfectly: a shy and reserved funeral parlor director, highly principled, father of 13 and grandfather of 24. Oh, and he's white.

2. Jamie Foxx is a black, snazzy, in-your-face lawyer who hasn't lost a case in 12 years and emulates Johnnie Cochran (of O.J. fame). He and Tommy have a bromance wherein black and white earn mutual respect, ebony and ivory and all that, like we've seen before in many other movies. But Jamie Foxx is in this one, and he makes it all seem brand new.

It's worth mentioning that while Foxx turns in an Oscar-worthy performance, the script, and so the movie, is at times sort of hackneyed. It's saved from being too hackneyed by the fact that it's a true story. And it's funny, too. You'll want to watch it twice.

Happy "Jihad Day"

A former Hamas leader has called for today to be a "Day of Jihad" for all Muslims the world over.  I'm not sure what that means but it can't be good. So far today a high-school teacher in France has been murdered by a former student, a loyal Muslim who one can assume was just following orders.

Some Jewish schools and synagogues in New York and other large cities will be closed today, just to be safe. I plan to celebrate by staying home, closing all the shutters and blinds, bolting all the doors, and then baking little Hamas gingerbread men cookies and chopping off all their heads.

It's literally the least I can do.

Don't Worry, Be Happy?

My husband keeps reminding me that life is part good and part bad. Puppies and kittens are good, the war in Israel is bad. He tells me to focus on the good. So instead of reading the newspaper, turning on the TV news or logging on to my computer, I should be brushing my cat or playing with my puppy. 

My cat is 15 and wants to sleep all the time and I don't have a puppy. Still, I get his point: My crying doesn't make anyone in Israel feel better or be safer. But what are we supposed to do? And considering it's not just Israel -- there's still that pesky war in Ukraine that until recently made us all feel bad -- it's a quandary.

Several years ago I saw a therapist who doled out platitudes as medicine. She told me that whenever I have a negative thought, I should just say to it, "Sorry, I'm not going to think about that right now. Maybe later." I stopped seeing her because she was so silly and ineffective. But maybe that piece of advice will work for me during this time.

I Pledge Allegiance to the Flag

Thus far, several of our Christian friends have contacted my husband and me, asking "How are you doing during this difficult time?" As if, because we are Jewish, it's worse for us that Israel is engaged in a brutal war with Palestinian terrorists. 

I wonder -- aren't gentiles deeply affected by reports of the murder of innocent civilians, the raping of young girls, the abduction of Holocaust survivors and the beheading of infants? Does the fate of the hostages cause worry only among Jews? Does one have to be Jewish to actually have a heart? I'm beginning to think so. 

But what about all those "bleeding-heart" liberals? How can an American Democrat, like Michigan Rep. Rashida Tlaib, still have a Palestinian flag hanging outside her senate office door? Oh right, she thinks Israel started it.

Beheaded Babies -- My Favorite Thing!

The smiling young woman shown at right has come out publicly and enthusiastically in favor of Hamas and what they are doing in Israel, posting an open letter detailing her feelings on her Facebook page.

NYU Law School Student Bar Association president Ryna Workman, who identifies as nonbinary and uses "they/them pronouns," issued a statement on the front page of the group's newsletter declaring her "unwavering and absolute solidarity with Palestinians in their resistance against oppression toward liberation and self-determination." 

Ryna went on to say the current war is all Israel's fault and that Palestine will prevail. Surely Ryna knows about the 40 dead babies, some beheaded, reportedly found at a kibbutz near the Gaza border. Possibly she eats baby heads? (These days anything is possible and what the heck -- why not start that rumor?)

A prestige international law firm bent on employee diversity had offered her a job upon graduation but has since rescinded the offer. Boo-hoo, poor Ryna! But hold your tears -- considering she's black, female and LGBTQ+, she qualifies for a cabinet position in the Biden administration. They love all that downtrodden shit.

Hamas: The Lowest of the Low

Several friends have texted my husband and me asking how we are doing in light of the bloody war taking place in Israel. While they mean well, I find it odd that just because we are Jewish we likely feel worse than someone who is not a Jew. They're misguided.

A typical Hamas member.

Anyone with a heart and the capacity for empathy feels exactly like anyone else at this time: A war in which uninvolved civilians are ripped from their homes and killed -- including babies, toddlers and elderly survivors of the Holocaust -- is unspeakably repulsive. The shocking murder of 260 concertgoers, most of them in their teens or early 20s, is depressing enough to make one stay in bed all day, no matter their religious beliefs. 

The added insult of innocent American hostages being held in unknown locations -- starved, terrified and soon to be dead -- increases the unimaginable horror of it all.

For people like myself who suffer from hyper-empathy, it's almost impossible to bear. My being Jewish is not a factor. Human beings are human beings. Except of course Arab terrorists, who are a genus far below animals.

There's Never A Grim Reaper When You Need One

The situation in Israel is dire. Evil people are on the loose and neither God nor Bibi Netanyahu has smite them yet. They continue to kill innocent women and children, and men too of course but they always get mentioned last. (See, now why would any woman in her right mind choose to transition? She-turned-he wouldn't have gotten into one of those lifeboats on the Titanic, that's for sure.) Now they are threatening to execute a hostage -- they have taken several hundred and some are Americans -- for every Palestinian killed in Gaza by an Israeli rocket.

My very own unique plan for the area would never pass either the House or the Senate, which is why I haven't bothered to run for office. I suggest we nuke the entire Middle East and after the dust settles, build a new Disney theme park there. There could be a roller coaster called The Wailing Wall and a House of Horrors called Old City Jerusalem, with scary Arabs jumping out of darkened stalls who grab your arm and twist it a little, whispering, "Come inside my shop and see what I have for you. I promise you'll like it." Oh wait, that's what they already have now. Okay, then something along those lines but maybe a bit less threatening.

I cried many tears yesterday and again today over the deadly attacks by Hamas in Israel. I've been so depressed I've eaten half a jar of Super Crunchy peanut butter and a bagel with hummus and some ice cream, and that's not including breakfast and lunch, and now I'm still depressed but also nauseous. That's what happens when food is your go-to drug and your president is a feeble old man who refuses to address what's going on and instead hosts a barbecue for members of his staff and stays off the TV, offering no plans for how to help or what to do or even sending his prayers, which means nothing we all know but at least it's something.

My husband points out that over time the fallout from several nuclear bombs would get to all of us. So be it -- it's time, really, for all of us to go. I know, I know, there are plenty of fine people here on Earth, it's not just evil-doers like Ilhan Omar and that Rashida Tlaib, but alas -- considering everything, we need to start from scratch.

Disease du Jour

I probably should find it comforting that everything once condemned is now condoned -- from smashing a storefront window and grabbing as much merchandise as you can carry to mutilating your God-given body parts -- but I don't. Instead it's unnerving, making me wonder when cold-blooded murder of your mother will become acceptable because after all, who does she think she is telling you to "Put on a coat, it's cold outside." 

These days, nothing is anyone's fault. Fat people don't overeat, they have a genetic predisposition to stuffing their faces. Alcoholics aren't lacking in self-control, it's their disease that makes them pour liquor down their gullets. Sex addicts, gamblers, rapists and petty thieves all suffer from traumatic childhoods, so pity them, don't judge. 

What's got me thinking this is the latest woke excuse for bad behavior: Drug addicts are afflicted with "opioid use disorder." It's not their fault that they want to avoid working, take no responsibility for their actions, escape reality and get high all the time. They can't help it, it's that damn disease.

Food Fight in the House

Sadly, it seems the Republicans can't even play nice among themselves, forget getting along with the Democrats. That smarmy Rep. Matt Gaetz from Florida, who looks like a porn star and according to some women behaves like one too, went on the warpath against his own party's elected leader and somehow managed to get him thrown out. So now the little lost lambs we call our "leaders" don't have a Speaker of the House and are having to waste our money and their time trying to get a new one.

Hopefully, after they clean up all the tar and feathers flung at Kevin McCarthy and finish repainting Nancy Pelosi's old office they'll find someone to be their new boss and actually do some legislating. Here are just a few of our country's problems, and none of them have the words Hunter or Biden in them:

1. Rampant crime in all of our major cities, with little punishment.

2. Extensive homelessness in all of our major cities, involving public urination, defecation and possibly the next plague.

3. Illegal drug dealing in all of our major cities, causing thousands of overdose deaths.

4. The incredible ignorance of most public school students in all of our major cities, leading to numbers 1, 2 and 3 on this list.

 

Indigenous Peoples Summer

Last week here in Maine was glorious: chilly and overcast, temps in the 60's and even a few high 50's, with nary a mosquito in sight. I was in Heaven. We had to turn on the heat and even bring out the sweaters and wooly socks from storage on a few of those gray days. I ventured outdoors without fear and without slathering on bug repellent first.

That was then. Two days ago, suddenly and without warning, it was hot. Like 82 degrees hot. People went back to wearing tank tops, shorts and flip-flops. As if that wasn't bad enough, the mosquitos returned, from where God only knows but it couldn't have been very far. My late-blooming geraniums and dahlias slumped in the unexpected heat and everything needed watering again. The dreaded You-Know-Who summer had arrived, and here it remains: temps today are expected to hit 82 degrees.

The worst thing about it is that we can't call it "Indian Summer" anymore, which had such a nice, descriptive, almost nostalgic ring to it. No, now it's Indigenous Peoples summer, which is just plain ridiculous but somehow not offensive to Native Americans, formerly known as Indians. 

It's just not the same. I wonder, do little kids now play Cowboys and Indigenous People?

Old Age Isn't Funny

Today's New York Times contains an article entitled, "It's No Joke, Old Age." I could tell by the accompanying illustration that it was supposed to be humorous but I never laughed, although I did smile once. That author says right up front that he is 83, so maybe in the next six years I will lose my sense of humor like he apparently has. But I still have mine and so will try to write a post about aging that is actually funny.*

My husband, a much younger 66, says, "It's not going to be funny; you're going to try too hard." I hope to prove him wrong, which is my strong suit so fingers crossed!

Here is a list of things about being old that are funny:

1. You're much closer to death yet no more prepared for it.

2. You can still walk and talk but have gained a new skill: you're invisible to others.

3. You're wiser than people younger than you yet they rarely seek your advice.

4. You look old in the mirror but still think you're young.

5. Everyone you went to high school with looks way older than you, except for the dead ones.

* When I said "funny" I didn't mean haha-funny, I meant peculiar-funny.