Thursday, December 24, 2009

Movie of the Week XVII

First, I AM HOME! I am home, I am home, I am home. FOR GOOD. I have never been so thrilled to be back in America and back at home.

I will write more about our ski trip to Italy in December, my last weeks in the Czech Republic, and my return home, but not until after Christmas. Right now I am just enjoying being home!

But I could not let Christmas come and go without this movie:

White Christmas (1954)
Despite the title, it really is not a "Christmas movie" in the usual sense. In fact, the only reason it is called "White Christmas" is because the Irving Berlin song by that title appears a few times in the film, crooned by Bing Crosby. The finale of the movie takes place on Christmas Eve, too, but there is not the typical overt "Christmas lesson" about the importance of family or sharing or being thankful that appears in other holiday films. So my urgency about posting this before Christmas is not entirely justified...It is not so much the holiday as the fact that this is one of my favorites and I can't wait to do a blog entry about it.

The movie starts with Bob Wallace (Bing Crosby) and Phil Davis (Danny Kaye) performing in a makeshift Christmas Eve show in the middle of the war zone in Europe in World War II. (The man in the middle is a general. He becomes important later.)

Phil saves Bob's life and they become pals, and after the war ends they pair up to make a successful theatrical team and then very successful producing partners.

While producing and performing a show in Florida, they receive a letter from an old Army buddy asking them to go see his sisters perform and give them some advice. They aren't very excited about the prospect, but they go and are very impressed with the Haynes Sisters. Smitten, even.

And with fans like that, who wouldn't enjoy the show? They sing the song "Sisters, Sisters" which naturally my sisters and I were obsessed with and performed at our school talent shows.

Anyway, Bob likes Betty (Rosemary Clooney), and Phil likes Judy (Vera-Ellen.) The women reciprocate. It is fortunate that they do not both fall for the same sister or the same man. That would make it a very different kind of movie.

Phil and Judy begin conspiring almost immediately to get Betty and Bob together. Phil wants the workaholic Bob to get married so that Phil can get a vacation, and Judy wants Betty to get married so that Judy can be more independent. Betty is sort of a "mother hen" to Judy's "chick."

Phil and Judy have a fabulous dance number on the nightclub patio. Which strangely includes an elevated gazebo, a bridge, a short building with a very danceable roof, and various other spaces and objects which work themselves into the choreography. Oh, and every surface is made of a smooth grey material which is, coincidentally, just perfect for dancing.

Vera-Ellen is an incredible dancer, and Danny Kaye ain't too bad, either. It is a great number to a great song: "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing." (All the songs are Irving Berlin.)

Edith Head designed the costumes, and she made sure that Danny's socks and shoes matched the grey-blue of his suit perfectly; consequently, his legs look long since the line from pant to foot is uninterrupted.

All the gowns are beautiful, though you may notice that Vera-Ellen is always wearing a high neck. Even her pajamas have a stiff mandarin collar. You may also notice her teeny tiny skinny legs...Vera-Ellen was anorexic and the disease made her neck, especially, look bad. I guess it looked much older or really, really thin or something. I don't know, because you never see it in the movies. Sad trivia.

Vera-Ellen was a dancer, so she gets lots of dancing time. Rosemary Clooney, not so hot as a dancer, was a singer, so she gets lots of singing time later on in the movie. It is sort of amusing to watch knowing the actresses' strengths (and weaknesses). Vera-Ellen's voice is dubbed in the film, and Rosemary Clooney only does the simplest dance steps and usually just stands still while Vera-Ellen pivots and dips around her.

Everything is going great at the nightclub until the sheriff shows up and claims that the Haynes Sisters owe money to their landlord. Phil thinks of a plan that will stall the sheriff and allow Betty and Judy to escape the nightclub. Phil gives Judy two train tickets (meant for he and Bob) and begins the rather difficult task of convincing Bob to go along with his scheme. And this is his plan:

They lip synch the "Sisters" song so that the sheriff (in an office in the nightclub) thinks the girls are performing. It is an amusing scene.

Bob and Phil barely get away and catch their train. Phil begins trying to convince Bob to go to Vermont instead of New York City. (The Haynes Sisters are booked at a ski resort in Vermont over Christmas.) The sisters are on the same train: they meet the men in the gorgeous club car, sing a fun song about snow, and Bob is convinced that Vermont is where they should go.

But there is no snow in Vermont! And guess who runs the ski resort? The general from WWII! But since there is no snow, the resort is just about bankrupt. The sisters and the buddies must concoct a plan to save the resort and therefore save the general. Naturally, their plan is to put on a show! On Christmas Eve! Hurray!

The rest of the movie is a lot of wonderful song and dance scenes (rehearsals, ostensibly, and some less extravagant "private" numbers):

Bob, Phil, and Betty sing, and Vera dances in the super-random "Mandy" song.

I always wanted red sequined gloves like she has...And her train detaches!

She was a remarkable dancer. Acrobatic, she does loads of flips down the stairs, very quick, if you blink you might miss her turns and taps, and also balletic and graceful. She could do it all.

They sing about being in the Army:

Danny Kaye makes fun of modern choreography and Vera-Ellen does a frenetic dance with a male dancer who steps in to do more intense dancing when Danny Kaye won't quite do.

Bob and Betty sing to each other.

There is a lovely romantic subplot between the two couples, funny, funny bits, especially between Vera-Ellen and Danny Kaye, and then a dramatic schism which seems to threaten everything...A fake engagement, a colossal misunderstanding about Bob's motives for the show, a blow to the General's dignity...oh my. And still no snow!

This is a serious discussion. But I am always distracted by Rosemary Clooney's bright red lipstick. Wouldn't it get all over her pillow?

Not important.

One of my favorite scenes is Rosemary Clooney singing "Love, You Didn't Do Right By Me" in a New York City nightclub. Her black velvet dress with the scalloped neckline and mermaid silhouette, never mind the enormous diamond brooch pinned to her butt, is fabulous.

Add silver, sparkly gloves, a pink draped backdrop, white horse statues with feathered headdresses (it is the Carousel Club), and lots of odd, expressionless young men in black turtlenecks doing odd, expressionless motions around her, and you have a classic scene.

Bing Crosby does not actually sing with her in this part of the movie, but it is a nice picture.

Rosemary Clooney (yes, she was George Clooney's aunt) and Bing Crosby were good friends in real life and often sang together. They are great onscreen, too.

So for the Christmas part. The show is on Christmas Eve, and the finale is a Christmas-y number with a bunch of random kids dressed in Santa Claus inspired outfits or tutus. Not sure why the tutus and toe shoes...but I like it.

Surprise--they sing "White Christmas." Interestingly, Bing Crosby had made that song famous in an earlier film, Holiday Inn (1942). It could be a bit redundant--Bing singing "White Christmas" is heavily featured in both films. But he does sing it beautifully, and it is sort of his signature song.

A classic end to a classic musical. Great actors, great songs, great costumes, great plot, and great director (Michael Curtiz, who also directed Casablanca).

Merry Christmas!

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Ras al Khaimah--Resort 2

This is the last Dubai post, I promise. After a few days at the first resort we moved to the Hilton Resort and Spa. Beachfront, all-inclusive, beautiful pools, our own cottages. Pretty nice.

When the air was clear we could see the mountains. But usually it was pretty hazy. Rows and rows of cottages...
Here is our "villa." Typical chaos.
It was wonderful having a yard, however small. Hotel rooms become claustrophobic fast with little kids.

Look right:
Look left, towards the main hotel complex.
This would have been a nice photo if that woman hadn't run into it. Darn it.
The main part of the resort reminded me of Mesa Verde: cliff dwellings updated and moved to the United Arab Emirates. The hotel called it modern traditional Arabic architecture.
Lots of cool pools.
As you can see, the resort is lovely. But I was usually too overwhelmed and exhausted to enjoy it as I might otherwise have done. Usually I am only working 6-8 hours a day. But in Dubai, and on the other trips we have taken, my workday turns into 12 or 13 hours. Especially in Dubai, since I didn't have my own room. To get a little break, I would wake up an hour or two earlier than everybody else, including the baby, and sneak out to get breakfast. This might surprise those who know that I am definitely not an early riser. It also proves how desperate I was for some quiet time by myself. Since Eva was determined to keep the kids on Prague time, three hours before UAE time, they didn't go to bed until 9 or 10 at night, so my evenings were shot. The alternative was getting up early. Quite early. So I did.

Breakfast became my favorite part of the day. I took a book and ate outside by this pool. Peaceful, serene, quiet, stress-free. Ahh. I wished for better coffee, but you can't have everything.
One morning I was seated near a woman and a five or six year old boy. They were British, and not much is cuter than a small child with a British accent. The little boy was asking him mum about how they were going to get home. He summarized her answer like this:
"So we will go to the airport and then go to a different place. Like South America? How long does that take?" Cute cute cute.

The resort has its own little lagoon. This spit of land juts out in front of our villa.
Once when the baby was sleeping and the boys were with their grandmother I took a stroll along the beach and walked to the end of the isthmus. Can I call it an isthmus?Here is the view back at the beach.
Ras al Khaimah is trying to emulate Dubai with its big, tall, shiny buildings. There are a little behind, but hey, at least they are making an effort.

Our villa was about a five minute walk from the main restaurant. Here we are leaving:
And posing on the way:
The lobby was beautiful. Here is the big dome in the center:
After the kids were asleep I usually took my computer and tried to get some internet in a quiet corner. You would think that at a really nice resort like this wireless internet would be included, or at least free in the lobby. Not so. It was quite pricey and annoying. You had to buy internet cards in half hour or hour increments from the reception desk. When I actually wanted to take the plunge they had no more cards, and when I finally did get a card the internet was so slow I barely got anything accomplished. So that was disappointing.

Behind the reception desk they had portraits of the UAE rulers and the ruler of Ras al Khaimah. Their pictures were everywhere. I am quite confused about how the government works. It is a hereditary democracy? Or something?Most of the other guests at the resort were European; Czech, German, or English. And a few Italians, I think. I did not see many other Americans. Which sort of makes sense; it is an awfully long way to go for a beach vacation. I am sure there were many more Americans in Dubai or Abu Dhabi, but with Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean, and America's own excellent beaches, why would flocks of Americans fly 15 hours to the UAE for the beach?So that was my trip to the UAE. I feel very fortunate to have been able to go there. Now, I want to learn more about the Emirates, especially since some pretty drastic stuff has happened within the financial system in Dubai.

We returned home at about midnight on a cold, cold night in Prague. I did love wearing shorts and flip flops in Dubai...

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Dubai--The City

I had one day to myself to explore the city of Dubai. Eva booked a spot on a tour for me, and on Monday I was ready and excited to board the bus. (I am not sure if I was more excited to get a break from my job or to see Dubai...)

I was the only person from our resort on the tour and the bus made several stops along the way to pick up other people from nearby hotels. Add these stops to the not inconsiderable distance of Ras al Khaimah from Dubai and it took us three hours to get to Dubai. We parked in an IKEA parking lot on the outskirts of the city to wait for another bus. I was on the English tour, obviously, but with me on the bus from Ras al Khaimah were several Czechs and some Germans and they had to switch buses to get on their tours. It was a little crazy.

We finally got started. On my tour were a dozen other people, mainly British. And quite reticent. I could barely get a "hello" out of them as they boarded the bus. I was hoping someone would be friendly so I wouldn't be all by myself all day, but no one showed any interest in the little girl sitting by herself. Ahh, woe is me.

Our first stop was by the creek to get photos of the Dubai bank. Here it is in the middle. They are all about sail-shaped architecture, as you will see.
Then it was a thirty minute stop at the Dubai Museum. This was quite helpful as I knew nothing about the city. After being surrounded by thousand year old history for months, it was rather shocking to learn that the Dubai we know is only about 50 years old. There have been small settlements in that area for centuries, but electricity and telephones only arrived in the 1950s. The creek was too shallow and full of shifting sand bars to allow for big boats, so trade and travel was only possible after the creek was dredged like crazy in the 1950s. The sheiks have essentially re-shaped the landscape and designed the city from scratch. (It is an interesting experiment, certainly.) The city really began to grow when oil was discovered in the 1960s, which caused a big boom. Now, oil revenues account for only 6% or so of the economy. The rest comes from tourism, real estate, and financial services. Or it did, before everything got a little shaky about a week after we returned to Prague. Not my fault, though.

So the city is quite new, even by our short American standards. The museum is in an old fort of some kind, or maybe the fort was built to look old. I can't remember.
Highlights of the very child friendly museum included rooms full of tableaus showing traditional suks, pearl diving, desert living, and camels. Lots of fake people sitting and standing around. It gave me the creeps. They were awfully real looking. And I am not a wax museum person.

The main goal of the museum, at least in my opinion, was to wow the visitor with fake people and display how much the city has grown into the awesomeness it now is. There was an emphasis on the "traditional" lifestyle of tents and camels juxtaposed with the incredible modernity, shiny-ness, tall-ness, and overall ridiculous consumption of Dubai today. It is rather amazing since according to the models of the city, there was really nothing there but a few tents in the early 1950s. And now...

My favorite moments in the museum had little to do with the exhibits. I almost started clapping when I heard a small child singing "Row, row, row your boat," and then I remembered that his song was not such a big deal since he is American. I get so excited when one of my charges says anything in English that I forget that for native speakers it is not quite as amazing.

(Lukas does love nursery rhymes, so he is constantly chanting "Five little monkeys jumping on the bed..." except he changes the last one to "Momma called the doctor and the doctor said, 'Yes, please, monkeys jumping on the bed,'" I guess since he likes the idea of a monkey on a bed. He also substitutes my name for monkeys, so it becomes "Five little Camerons jumping on the bed" and he also enjoys changing bed to table or jumping to eating or whatever. He also likes "Heads, shoulders, knees and toes." It is a great way to get him speaking, but a bit annoying on long car rides.)

Anyway, back to the museum. I somehow became entangled with another group of what sounded like American tourists. I would bet they were from a cruise ship since they were a bit on the older side. I was behind an elderly woman with her pure white hair cut in the cutest pageboy. She looked like an older version of June Allyson, and she reminded me of my grandmother in Minnesota. She was dressed in a white polo shirt and white slacks (which is the only appropriate word for those pants) and she was all done up with jewelry and makeup.
She was with an equally old man named Jack. It made me smile: Grandma and Grandpa do Dubai. Awesome.

I stuck with them through the museum just to hear their comments. And to hear English. And because I felt like I was their honorary granddaughter for a few minutes. As we passed the cannon in this picture, the woman said:
"Jack, look at those balls!"

Her comments throughout the exhibits were slightly irreverent and silly and a pleasure to hear. She kept calling for Jack to come and look at things, and exclaiming over various objects in a loud, un-self-conscious voice.

In the gift shop I was looking at books and she came over to the shelf and started browsing, too. She said something like "There are so many!" and I nodded and smiled and agreed. She leaned forward conspiratorially and said, "I want to ask which is their best book but the line is so long!" "That would be helpful to know," I said.

So she barreled her way nicely to the front of the line and asked the man behind the counter, loudly, "Which is your best book?"

Love it.

I hated to leave her behind but I had to get back to my bus. I crossed the street and felt like all the male drivers were staring at me. I don't know if they were since I didn't want to look, but I I felt very conspicuous and a bit vulnerable all day. It was being alone, being a young woman, being a pale, blonde young woman, and not really knowing what the plan for my day was. Eva just handed me the receipt for the tour (which was very nice of her to get for me, don't get me wrong,) but I had no idea where the tour was going or when it stopped or if I needed to change buses again at some point or how I was getting back to my hotel. Which was not a great feeling for a control freak like me alone in a foreign land.

The bus took us to the creek which we crossed in a traditional, flat bottomed boat. Another wild juxtaposition between the somewhat shabby wooden boats and the skyscrapers lining the creek.
The ride took about five minutes. Very touristy but cool.
The dhows, bigger traditional boats, were lovely to look at as we crossed the creek. They are quite intricately carved and painted in nice colors.
Then it was off to the spice suk. I am not a very knowledgeable cook but it was still interesting to see the spices in their big sacks and jars. Weird, though, since next to the picturesque spice stalls with their saffron spilling out of burlap bags and dried dates and cinnamon resting in the sun...were stalls of cheap cheap cheap plastic toys, toasters, floaties, gaudy, thin beach towels, tacky clothes...Weird.

Next to the gold suk. Like the Ponte Vecchio in Florence, this covered outdoor market is lined with gold and jewelry shops.
There were some beautiful things. I didn't buy anything or even look very seriously, though, since you have to haggle with the merchants. And I don't haggle well. I needed my father!

While gazing at the emeralds and diamonds in a window you were constantly approached by men shouting about "Water! Pashminas! Juice! Chanel! Shirts! Fendi! Sunglasses!" I don't like being yelled at like that. So I didn't get a fake Chanel purse or a bottle of water.

Back to the bus. The tour was fine but they kept taking us to stores where they clearly had deals with the owners. I don't like being so blatantly herded into tourist traps. We spent more time waiting in jewelry stores and rug shops than we did seeing Dubai. They justified these stops and the ensuing delays by telling us that we had to wait for the bus to turn around...right.

We did stop by a Haagen Dazs which is conveniently across the street from a mosque.
Not just any mosque--the Jumeirah Mosque, which is the biggest one in Dubai. Although this mosque does allow non-Muslims inside, (it is the only one to do so in Dubai) we did not go in since the non-Muslim tours are only offered once or twice a week in the morning.
Here is a detail of one of the minarets. You can see the speakers for sending out the call to prayer. From our resort we could hear the call of a nearby mosque, especially the noon one. It was beautiful. From the same point by the Haagen Dazs we had a nice though hazy view of the Burj Dubai, the tallest building in the world. I don't know what makes the air so hazy. Heat? Pollution? Sand?The Burj Dubai will be 2, 684 feet when it is completed in January. It has 160 floors, and was only begun in 2004. It cost 4.1 billion US dollars: office space was selling for $4,000 per square foot, and residential was $3,500 per square foot.

Nice little chart. Thanks, Wikipedia.
The construction in the city is really incredible. Look at all the cranes! These are all buildings near the Burj Dubai. Ten years ago there was nothing there.
At this point in the tour I switched tour groups to a German one. I think the English tour was going to have lunch somewhere but Eva had not paid for that part. So I got on the bus with German speakers and tried to figure out what was going on. We stopped at the Burj Al Arab, the tallest hotel in the world. (Everything in Dubai is the tallest or the newest or the fastest.)

This is the sail-boat shaped hotel you may have seen. It is one of the most expensive hotels in the world, and is unofficially the one and only 7-star hotel. There are seven or eight staff per guest room, I think. Crazy. It stands on its own man made island, which is near the Palm Island. We didn't see that, but we did drive by the world island, which has artificial islands in the shape of the continents. It is not quite finished yet.
There is a heli-pad, just in case driving there is not cool enough for you.
Back on the bus and a short drive to the Mall of the Emirates. It seems that Europe and Dubai are a little crazy for malls right now. And there are some lovely ones. It is interesting, though, since in my limited experience I think that America is moving away from the gigantic malls towards more mixed-realty, "community" shopping centers. As though the US has already done the huge mall thing and is ready for something else.

The Mall of the Emirates was quite nice. Very upscale. A lot like the Mall of America, but more marble. And you are supposed to cover your shoulders in the Mall of the Emirates. But not a lot of people did, which surprised me. There are signs everywhere asking people to dress respectfully, but tourists walk around in tank tops just the same.

I got some lunch at Hardee's in the food court. Amusing, I know. The girl at the cash register was really nice and asked me how I liked Dubai. It was a sweet, unexpected conversation.

After lunch I wandered around. I saw the indoor ski slope...neat, but why? I sifted through racks of sequined tops next to women in burkas, which made me wonder what they wear underneath those voluminous black robes...

All the stores were the same as in European cities. Mango, H & M, Zara, Ralph Lauren, Bata, etc. I went into a department store which was filled with Christmas decorations (interesting) and saw the running outfits that conservative Muslim women can wear to work out in. It is like a burka--long sleeves, long pants, even hand coverings, but made of brighter, stretchier material. It comes with a matching head scarf and veil. I don't know about bathing suits, but there are women-only beaches and clubs in Dubai where women can go swimming since they can't unveil with men around.

After some fruitless shopping I parked myself at a Starbucks near where the bus was parked. My home away from home...

I watched the cars pull up to the valet parking. Lots of Range Rovers, Porsche Carreras, Mercedes, and an intriguing matte black BMW sedan. I have never seen a matte car before. I liked it. It glowed instead of shimmered.

The level of wealth in Dubai is really staggering. And who knows how much of it is real and how much is just a display. But pretty amazing. Also a bit strange since the gulf between haves and have-nots is immense. Dubai imports a lot of South Asian workers, for instance, and driving through the city you have the Burj Al Arab on one side and seedy looking, sad streets on the other.

My main impression of Dubai was "artificial." The land and water is artificial and the growth has been artificially, astronomically fast. It seems that a sheik decides to build a new highway or another huge man made island or the tallest building in the world and it just happens. I guess when you have a lot of money you can do that, completely manipulate your surroundings and your reality. But when I was there I wondered what would/will happen when the money disappears. When another city is the tourist hot spot, the chic place to go, or when another place has the tallest hotel in the world. You can't keep building the tallest ____ or have the newest _____. Well, I guess you can, but that isn't a sustainable plan long term. Right now the attraction of Dubai is that it is so ridiculous. Everything is taller, bigger, newer, more expensive, more luxurious. But I am not sure that that can last. The novelty wears off. Also, it felt like such a man's city. Not to be totally sexist, but I don't think a woman in charge would place such an emphasis on taller, bigger, higher. Like in Shrek, when the short king builds the tallest castle. Compensating for anything?

Dubai also reminded me of Venice. But most things do. Anyway, like Dubai, Venice is an artificial city. It was build on marshes and the land was reclaimed from the sea by hammering millions of tree trunks into the water and putting reed mats on top and hauling in soil until there was some semi-stable land to build on. Venice in the 14th and 15th and 16th centuries was one of the most powerful city-states in the world. It was a tourist haven even then because of its wealth and its insane architecture and attractions. But as the world shifted it gradually lost power, mainly because it was no longer the entrance to the East. I wonder if in a hundred years we will look at Dubai the same way we look at Venice. An interesting place to go, but a bit sad, too, to see something so beautiful and extraordinary and powerful decay, though ever so slowly.

I was a bit surprised that my mind kept going to what I perceived as the inevitable fall of Dubai...I kept imagining it as a ghost town, and wondering what aliens or our human descendants would think of the city. Hmmm. Especially interesting given the sobering financial tidings that came out of Dubai a few weeks ago.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Beach Time, Baby

We switched resorts after two days and finally saw the beach! Here are some pics. The ones with me in them were taken by the grandmother. I am so thankful to have them since I don't have a lot of pictures of me with the boys.

Honzik
Naked Lukas and Honzik building a sand castle. They didn't know how to do that before I showed them! They were amazed at the moat and towers I built. (For some reason, Honzik liked to keep his socks on when he played in the sand...okay.)
At first, Vojtisek (Voy-tea-sheck) was not crazy about the sand. He didn't like how his feet sank when he walked in it. He would look at me pitifully and stretch his arms out and do little jumps. If Lukas was there he would say, "Cameron, Vojtisek 'Lift me up, please!'" I have been working on that phrase with Lukas. Next step is getting the word "says" in there. "Vojtisek says 'lift me up, please!'"

Since Baby didn't like sitting in the sand, we sat on this float for the first day or so.
Then we moved to the sand. It was a big moment. He does wear clothes, occasionally. And I made sure he was sunscreened. Though it would have been nice to have one of those sun suits that Rachel and Carson used to wear. And a sun hat. And an umbrella I could attach to his sun suit.

He liked sand sledding.
And photo shoots.
Strike a pose.
Some beach reading.
And a little bit of swimming. Every day we went a little bit farther into the ocean. At first just his toes, then his little knees, then his tummy, and finally on the last morning he went all the way in! And he giggled the whole time.
Hurray for the beach! Beautiful, yes. Lovely soft sand, yes. Refreshing water, yes. No slippery tile and no concrete edges just waiting for a baby to fall off of into five feet of water, YES.