Pop Culture Nerd – Page 26 – Pop Culture Nerd

Nerdy Mad Libs!

Over Thanksgiving, I played Mad Libs™ with some friends and laughed my stuffing off at the results. I’d forgotten how fun it is, how much I enjoyed it as a child, playing with my siblings. So I thought I’d try doing it here. Today, I’m going to ask for a list of words. You leave them in the comments, and when I have all the words I need, I’ll post the result.

Your words will be inserted into a fake book review I wrote, so keep that in mind. Weird, provocative, absurd, could-be-dirty words are encouraged, but no blatantly profane or boring ones, please. Leave words in the order I’ve asked for them, and number them so the people after you know where they are on the list. Example: first commenter should write: 1. [adjective], second commenter 2. [verb], and so on.

Feel free to contribute more than one word, but perhaps not a bunch all at once. Think going back for seconds at the buffet table after others have had a chance to go through the line first.

Have fun, and let’s see your fabulous words!

adjective
verb
decade/time period
place/location
adjective
girl’s name
adjective
noun
mythical creature
verb
ridiculous boys’ name
verb
plural noun
verb
adjective
noun
noun
body part
verb
adverb
adjective
verb

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Seussian Thanksgiving

For the past two decades, I’ve most often spent Thanksgiving with my dear friend Mari, who hosts a theme dinner every year. She never fails to make my jaw drop in wonderment at her creativity and how completely she transforms her house into a different universe.

This year, it was Dr. Seuss’s world, and it all started with this invitation Mr. PCN and I received in the mail, depicting the Grinch’s heart growing in size.

The rest of it unfolded as follows.

When we arrived, we were greeted with this.

And our host, Sam I am (aka Mari) with the green eggs and ham.

And all the other wonderful creatures and things.

Truffula trees!

Her whole yard looks animated, doesn't it?

The Lorax and Fox in Socks

The beautiful table...

...featuring Dr. Seuss quotes throughout

Two Cindy Lou Whos & Foxy

Horton, Mayor of Whoville, Sally, and a Sneetch

This night shot is grainy, but how many characters can you make out?

Oh, the places we went! There was fun to be done!

Hope your holiday was magnificent.

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Thank You, Universe

I have so many reasons to be thankful—the most loving family, friends more generous than I deserve—but luckily those have been true my whole life. This year, I thought I’d mention my thanks to the universe, for sending me a special, unexpected message.

I’ve worked in the arts for many years, as an actress, writer, and editor. I love everything I do, and have had great times and hard times, due to the nature of being a freelancer and subjecting myself to regular bouts of rejection. There’s no job security, but never a shortage of reasons why I’m too this or too that or not enough whatever for some gigs. And that’s when people would actually tell me why. Often there’s just silence.

But then this happened two months ago. Read it if you haven’t already, or the rest of this post won’t make sense.

Are you back? OK. When I recently shared that story with someone who also works in a creative field, she started crying in front of me. I was somewhat surprised, since it’s a very personal story and I thought I would be the only one weeping.

But after wiping her eyes, she said, “We choose certain paths in life and often wonder, ‘Am I doing the right thing? Should we be somewhere else?’ The universe just sent you a very clear sign that you were exactly where you were supposed to be in that moment. Do you know how lucky you are? Some people wait their whole lives and never get an answer.”

I will pause while you absorb that.

Yes, exactly.

I was struck speechless by that statement, and really can’t express it any better. So I’ll just stop here and say thanks to the universe for revealing some of its magic to me.

Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you find the answers you seek.

Photo: Sarah G.

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Movie Review: HITCHCOCK

Hitchcock (out Friday, Nov. 23), which takes place during the making of Psycho, should be called Hitchcock and Alma. Yes, we get to peek behind the shower curtain to see how the iconic movie was made, but the focus is more on the relationship between the legendary director, played by Anthony Hopkins under layers of latex, and his wife, portrayed by the indomitable Helen Mirren. The veteran actress has the best role in the film, showing quiet strength, fierce intelligence, and vulnerability as she stands by her man and smiles while he basks in his glory.

Hopkins does a somewhat credible job, but it feels more like impersonation than transformation. I was always aware of the heavy makeup, and his voice is 20% Hopkins and 80% Hitchcock. Sometimes his belly protruded more than other times, making me wonder if he had differently sized fake bellies.

All this was distracting, as was casting other name stars like Scarlett Johansson and Jessica Biel as Janet Leigh and Vera Miles, respectively. When Johansson first appeared, I thought, “Oh, that’s Scarlett Johansson in a retro wig.” The actress eventually won me over, especially in the shower scene when she looks truly terrified, but I shouldn’t have to get over the hurdle of seeing Johansson before I saw Leigh up on screen.

Biel can never be convincing to me in a period piece because she has modern-day Chiclets teeth—seemingly veneered, perfectly even and white. I kept thinking teeth did not look like that more than 50 years ago. This may sound trivial, but anything that makes a performance less believable is a problem. On the flip side, James D’Arcy is very effective as Anthony Perkins, even if the role is small. I had no idea who D’Arcy was so I totally bought him as a young, jittery Perkins.

Director Sacha Gervasi, working from a script John J. McLaughlin wrote based on Stephen Rebello’s book Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho, never clearly defines the movie’s tone. It seems he was unsure if it should be an exploration of the troubled personal life of a director many considered to be genius, of Alma’s loneliness and feelings of neglect, or if it should be a collection of Hollywood anecdotes and wink-wink moments, inviting the audience to laugh along at things we already know about Psycho and Hitchcock’s oeuvre. It ends up straddling the line, which leaves story lines stranded, such as Leigh being seemingly terrorized by Hitch during the shower scene, but then acting friendly toward him as if nothing happened.

One could argue the movie is like the man himself, wanting to be commercially entertaining but also wishing to be taken seriously. While Hitchcock’s work is revered now, he never won a competitive Oscar, and this movie will also probably not garner much respect from the Academy.

Nerd verdict: Hitches in Hitchcock

Photos: Fox Searchlight

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Weird Casting Conversation

Some of you know Mr. PCN is a casting director. I sometimes help answer phones. Yesterday, I had this conversation.

Man on the line, in heavy accent: “Yes. I have Japanese ladies. You looking for Japanese ladies?”

Me: “Um, not at this time.”

Man (after whispering in Japanese to someone): “Can I still send to you?”

Me: “You can email us pictures and resumes.” (In case he wanted to send actual women to our door.)

Man (after another rush of Japanese whispers): “Oh. Thank you.” Click.

What just happened?

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Movie Review: SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK

I still have to see many more awards contenders, but Silver Linings Playbook is an early favorite. It’s laugh-out-loud funny, charming, moving, wacky, and…well, you’ll have to see for yourself.

Bradley Cooper plays Pat, a bipolar former teacher newly released from a court-ordered stay at a psychiatric facility, eight months after an incident had made him turn violent. He moves back in with his parents (Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver), determined to rebuild his life and win back his wife, Nikki, despite everyone telling him she’s moved on.

He meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), whose cop husband recently died, and rumor has it she’s dealing with her grief by turning into the town slut. Their lack of social skills and edit buttons make others wary, but the two form a tenuous bond that lead to surprising discoveries about themselves.

The biggest surprise for me was finding that Cooper could act. I’ve never been a fan because I’ve never been able to sympathize with any of his characters (this includes Will on Alias). Not only is he sympathetic here, he takes on mental illness, one of the two hardest conditions to portray convincingly—the other is drunkenness—because the inclination is to overdo it.

But Pat desperately wants to show how well he’s coping post-treatment so Cooper suppresses the crazies, keeping his character grounded while allowing us to see that the cracks are right beneath the surface and could reappear any moment. Pat is not so much unhinged as someone who’s passionate and idealistic and doesn’t understand why the rest of the world doesn’t feel the same way.

Lawrence is even more impressive as the only person who does understand Pat. She has never been more alluring and self-assured than she is here. She goes toe to toe with De Niro in one scene and comes out on top (it’s written that way but still takes a skilled thespian to pull it off). She’s not a girl but a woman on fire; this is a mature, full-blooded performance from a young actress who keeps getting better. I think a long career is ahead of her if she wants it, and an Oscar nomination is almost certain for this role.

In adapting Matthew Quick’s novel, director-writer David O. Russell, a gifted but inconsistent auteur, has crafted his most mainstream, uplifting movie yet. Among its pleasures is its unpredictability. The story takes odd turns, making me ask at times, “Where is this going?” and “How did we get here?” The answer is by Russell throwing out the playbook of Hollywood cliches.

Nerd verdict: Silver Linings has a shot at Oscar gold

Photos: The Weinstein Company

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ANNA KARENINA Review + Notes from Q&A with Joe Wright & Keira Knightley

I attended a Variety screening Monday night of Anna Karenina, and stayed afterward for the Q&A with director Joe Wright and Keira Knightley. It’s the kind of movie that benefits from such a chat.

For the latest adaptation of Leo Tolstoy’s novel about a married woman who falls in love with another man and is destroyed by her affair, Wright and company decided to take the highly stylized, theatrical route, placing many of the scenes on an actual stage with props and matte paintings in the background, revealed by velvet curtains. Everything is heightened, and how much you like it will depend on how willing you are to forgo realism. If you’re a Baz Luhrmann fan, you’ll probably love this.

I respect Wright for undertaking this bold experiment, and parts of it are engaging. Aaron Taylor-Johnson (Kick Ass) and Keira Knightley, in opulent costumes, have potent chemistry as Anna and Count Vronsky, making us yearn for them to be together almost as much as they do. Jude Law needed to be dumbed down quite a bit to play the dull, cuckholded Karenin, but his subtle performance is convincing and sympathetic.

Wright is clever in using the stage setting to convey the idea of a much bigger space, and to transition between scenes. Anna goes from a ballroom to her home by simply climbing a set of stairs. She sits down in a chair in her drawing room, but parts the curtains and the scenery outside indicates she’s on a moving train. Because of the stylization, punctuated by a rhythmic score, the actors’ movements—Knightley’s most of all—are precisely choreographed, but the cast makes the “dance” look like second nature, performing what Wright calls “a ballet with words.”

The energy can’t be sustained, though, and once the passion cools between Anna and Vronsky, I started to lose interest in the movie.

After the screening, the director explained that he was trying to get closer to “the expressive interior landscape of the characters” and felt he couldn’t do it with realism. Setting most of the action on an actual stage seemed appropriate, since Russian society at the time “was performing their lives…they wanted to be French.” The people spoke French, wore French fashion, so when Anna gets up in the morning, Wright shows her getting dressed like an actress about to step in front of the footlights.

During the Q&A, Knightley came across smart, funny, articulate, and passionate in her defense of Anna. When the moderator asked how the actress approached playing a character some readers find loathsome, Knightley said, “I didn’t like her. I loved her.” She explained that she’s in no position to judge a woman who’s flawed by her humanity, who hurts those she loves most, because Knightley herself is sometimes guilty of such behavior. She added, “How can you not feel for a creature who’s suffering?”

Wrights wrapped up the evening by admitting this movie is an experiment, saying “filmmakers have an obligation to experiment.” It may not have been a complete success, but I appreciate Wright and his team giving the text a daring new interpretation.

Nerd verdict: A bold—if not entirely successful—experiment

Photos: Laurie Sparham/Focus Features

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Nerdy Special List November 2012

Here are the November titles we enjoyed:

From Jen at Jen’s Book Thoughts:

The Right Hand by Derek Haas (Nov. 13, Mulholland Books) is an action-packed spy thriller. Haas introduces his American spy, Austin Clay, in the first of what will hopefully be a continuing series. Clay is a traditional loner, but a character readers will quickly embrace as a genre favorite. With fully realized characters, well-timed plot twists, and subtle humor, Haas keeps his readers invested until the very end. And then he leaves them wanting more Austin Clay.

From Jenn at The Picky Girl:

In A Royal Pain by Megan Mulry (Nov. 1, Sourcebooks Landmark), Bronte Talbott is a flourishing ad exec in New York, trying to prove her worth to her dead father, whose intellect and self importance always got in the way of a father-daughter relationship. After a move to Chicago and heartbreak, Bronte is hesitant when she meets Max, a handsome Brit she runs into at a bookstore. Telling him up front that all she wants is something casual, Bronte keeps Max at a distance. But Max, confident and persuasive, wants more, which could be difficult as he’s not just a Brit…he’s also a duke who must uphold the family title.

My responses while reading: “I love Bronte!” “I hate Bronte!” “I love Bronte!” “I LOVE Max.” Though at times this book made me roll my eyes with the typical women’s fiction “barrier” to the romance and the need of the heroine to constantly deny her feelings, I must admit this was a fun read, especially for a woman who dreams of meeting a handsome man in a bookstore…

From Danielle at There’s a Book:

Diverse Energies edited by Tobias S. Buckell and Joe Monti (Oct. 1, Tu Books) This new YA dystopian sci-fi anthology, Diverse Energies, edited by Tobias S. Buckell and Joe Monti (Oct. 1, Tu Books), features an incredible list of authors. From Paolo Bacigalupi to Malinda Lo to Cindy Pon and more, there’s bound to be an author in the group readers will have heard of, if not read previously. Each brings a rich and diverse cast of characters to their individual story within the collection, making this the perfect read for anyone looking for a great dystopian and/or sci-fi read. For me, not only was the genre a huge draw, but the anthology factor played a huge part. During this busy time of year, with activities and holidays coming practically every day until after the new year, it’s nice to have a book filled with fantastic stories by talented authors that you can pick up and read when you have ten or fifteen minutes to spare. Diverse Energies is a quick, well-written and -edited anthology that I’m certain will be just the book for those of us who love to read, but may be rushed this time of year!

Ed.’s note: This ARC had a November pub date, but the book was moved up to October.

PCN’s recommendation:

While some people like to peek in others’ bathroom cabinets when they visit their homes, I like to peruse their bookshelves, which I think are good indicators of how a person thinks, what their interests are, perhaps even their dreams. (If they don’t have any bookshelves, I judge them harshly and leave immediately.)

My Ideal Bookshelf, by Thessaly La Force and illustrated by Jane Mount (Nov. 13; Little, Brown), allows me to look at some well-known people’s bookshelves right from my reclining sofa. It’s a thrill to see what books have shaped them, to learn tidbits such as Michael Chabon reads Sherlock Holmes, James Franco’s shelf is overflowing with classics, David Sedaris’s collection is full of sad stories because he believes “humor needs some aspect of tragedy in order to be memorable.” It was also fun to see the shelf of one of my favorite authors, Robert Crais, without having to climb up his drainpipe and peek through his window, and though I don’t read James Patterson’s books, I applaud his placing Thomas Harris’s Red Dragon and Don Winslow’s California Fire and Life on the list of books he reveres.

Note: Check out the Pinterest sweepstakes going on right now to win a painting by Jane Mount of your ideal bookshelf, or autographed books. You can also chat with the authors and some of the contributors on Twitter tomorrow, Nov. 13, by using the hashtag #myidealbookshelf.

Once again, I really like the diversity of this month’s list. Hope you find something to your liking. Which November releases are you looking forward to reading?

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Movie Discussion: SKYFALL

The AFI Fest started last week (wrapping up today) and for the third year, I’ve been attending as a press member. Last night was the annual “Secret Screening,” revealed at the last minute as Skyfall. Guess who fell out of her chair when she read that announcement?

Mr. PCN and I hustled down to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, and following are our reactions to the 23rd James Bond movie, directed by Sam Mendes and starring Daniel Craig, Dame Judi Dench, Javier Bardem, Ralph Fiennes, and Naomie Harris. The spoiler-free plotline is that things get personal for M.

Mr. PCN: I love the title sequence. Reminds me no one else does it like that.

PCN: It was gorgeous and hypnotic. I can’t hum Adele’s tune, though.

Mr. PCN: As with most Bond movies, the opening action was awesome.

PCN: It was intense. Love how the audience cheered when he first appeared.

Mr. PCN: Craig is wonderful, but he looks a little more beat-up than usual. It makes sense in context of the plot, but was still startling.

PCN: Like you said, he had to look like that, considering all that happens to him in just the first fifteen minutes. Makes him more human. But then he puts on those Tom Ford suits and all is right with the world again. I was obsessed with those suits! They could cut you, they were so sharp. They fit him so well, in silhouette he looked naked.

Mr. PCN: *rolls eyes*

PCN: These are astute observations. Costumes are an important part of cinema.

Mr. PCN: Uh-huh. Moving on to Bardem. It’s no surprise he shines as the villain. His performance is flawless, and the flirtation scene between him and Bond is hilarious.

PCN: Bardem is mesmerizing. He’s so unpredictable; I could never tell when he was going to smile at someone or kill them. He doesn’t overdo the villainy, but instead exudes charm and humor, which makes him even scarier, a la Hannibal Lecter. And his introduction via that one long take in which he does the monologue while walking slowly toward the camera is well done. What’s with him and ugly character hairdos, though?

Mr. PCN: Ha! What I want to know is: Why is Bérénice Marlohe getting so much press when her Sévérine is so underwhelming?

PCN: I agree. Naomie Harris, though, is sexy because she’s smart and competent.

Mr. PCN: She’s more of a driving force. Q is bit of a conundrum. He’s not as fun as John Cleese or Desmond Llewelyn. And Q’s gotta have fun with Bond and his gadgets.

PCN: And he’s not that smart. Makes mistakes, and is kind of slow to realize things that seem obvious to viewers. Not Ben Whishaw’s fault, though, more the way the role was written. What did you think of the action sequences?

Mr. PCN: The opening train-and-crane is the best.

PCN: Yeah. Supposedly, most of the stunts were real, not CGI’d. Craig had to fight on a moving train, tethered to a safety line, and told not to look down.

Mr. PCN: Komodo dragon was good, too. Short and snappy.

PCN: The Shanghai fight was nicely shot, against the neon lights and shadows.

Mr. PCN: But it was kind of confusing.

PCN: Yes! I wish some of the fights were filmed in two-shots so we could see the choreography more. As is, there are a lot of fast cuts and closeups. I couldn’t see the moves or tell what was going on sometimes.

Mr. PCN: I enjoyed the nods to early Bond films, like the Aston Martin DB5.

PCN: With the original plate from Goldfinger! And when Q gives Bond simple gadgets and says, “Were you expecting an exploding pen? We don’t really go in for that anymore.”

Mr. PCN: I don’t think this breaks any new ground, but harkens back to vintage Bond.

PCN: I think it’s both old and new. Several important elements were reinvented, but with reverence to what’s gone before.

Verdicts: Mr. PCN—Skyfall floats, but doesn’t rise; PCN–Skyfall‘s a solid soldier

Note: Besides the AFI Fest, the Variety Screening Series has also begun. Check back soon for reviews of Anna Karenina, Hitchcock, Silver Linings Playbook, and Life of Pi.

Photos: Francois Duhamel/Columbia Pictures

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Literary Conversation Starters

When you read in public, do people often come up to you wanting to discuss your book? It doesn’t always happen to me, but it did tonight while I was at a cafe reading Michael Connelly’s new Harry Bosch, The Black Box (Little, Brown; Nov. 26). It made me remember that the last two times I read a Connelly novel while sitting among people, someone also approached me to say he/she was a fan. I realized that the author and his protagonist are conversation starters among readers.

This past summer, I noticed that if I had Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl with me while doing errands, people would comment on it. So I thought I’d pose a random poll here: Which books/authors spark conversation with strangers when you read in public? Why do you think that is? What’s the most surprising encounter you ever had because of a book?

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Book Review: THE SECRET KEEPER by Kate Morton

Kate Morton is one of the few authors I think can get away with writing fat, 500-page novels because she fills up those pages with a lot of story. I was a bit surprised, then, to find The Secret Keeper overly long, and not as gripping as it could be if it were tighter.

The story moves back and forth between 2011 and 1941 in England, after an initial scene in the ’60s that sets up the mystery. Sixteen-year-old Laurel witnesses her mother, Dorothy, do something horrific to a stranger and then lie to the police about it. This is especially shocking since Dorothy is a kind, decent woman by all accounts.

Fifty years later, Dorothy is dying and Laurel wants to know the truth behind what she saw and why her mother did it. Laurel digs into Dorothy’s past via letters and books and a photo, and arrives at a startling discovery.

Morton is skilled at developing her characters, and several of them here are memorable, Jimmy and Vivien in particular. Dorothy is interesting for her mercurial qualities—she seems to transform from good girl to reprehensible woman to loving mother. She made me consider how much I’d be willing to forgive someone for a destructive mistake if that person is truly remorseful and manages to turn her life around. And what if that person were my mother?

At times, though, the author goes into too much detail about too many characters, some of whom are tangential, such as Laurel’s sisters. They don’t really contribute to the story because they don’t know anything about The Event (Laurel was the sole witness besides her brother, who was only a baby) so I didn’t need to learn about their personality quirks or wonder whether one had gotten plastic surgery.

There’s also a section going way back to 1929 Australia that relays the background of Vivien, someone who knew Dorothy in 1941. Vivien’s story is tragic, but I think it could’ve been somewhat synopsized instead of being shown in detail. Jimmy, another friend of Dorothy’s from the ’40s, also had a sad past, but Morton managed to convey it succinctly without having to devote a whole chapter to his childhood.

Keeper is most effective when focusing on the story between Laurel and her mother, and the plot line involving Jimmy and Vivien and Dorothy. It loses momentum when it digresses, and there’s a revelation that doesn’t quite explain what the stranger says to Dorothy in the opening scene, but it’s still worth checking out for Morton completists.

Nerd verdict: Secret could’ve been kept tighter

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You Will Not Believe This Story

As some of you might know, I’ve been doing a play called Year of the Rabbit at Ensemble Studio Theatre LA for the past couple months. The experience has been more rewarding professionally and personally than I could’ve possibly imagined. After I share the following story, you’ll probably agree that no one could have imagined it.

One Saturday last month, a man approached me after a performance with kind words to say about the show. His name was Rob, and he said the play made him recall his time in Vietnam in the army during the war.

“Oh, my grandfather worked with the army as a translator,” I said.

“What was his name?” Rob asked.

I told him. His eyes went wide. “No. You…you’re joking. You’re his granddaughter?”

My breath caught and I started shaking. “What are you saying?”

“I knew your grandfather.”

I repeated my ong ngoai‘s name a couple times to make sure Rob heard me correctly, and that we were talking about the same man. Rob said he had worked with him from 1968 to ’69. They’d started a school together to teach English. Rob shared stories with specific details about my grandfather and called him “an honorable man.”

I was openly crying at this point, but still found the situation almost impossible to believe. Ong Ngoai passed away fifteen years ago so it wasn’t as if I could ask him. Then Rob said he would return with photos.

I called my mother when I got home that night even though it was near 1 a.m. her time. She was amazed but said she’d wait for photographic evidence because she didn’t want to be disappointed.

Two weeks later, Rob, who lives on the East Coast and was only visiting L.A., came back to the theater. As he approached, I braced myself for the possibility that he’d show me photos of a stranger, that somehow this was all a case of mistaken identity.

But he proceeded to share images of my handsome ong ngoai, which Rob had taken 43 years ago with his Nikon. Not only had I never seen my grandfather that young, I don’t have any pre-1975 photos of him at all. My family had to leave almost everything behind when we left Vietnam. Rob had ordered a set of 5×7 prints and one 8×10 for us. Again, my tear ducts unleashed.

Rob said, “There’s more.”

“How can there be more? This is already too much.”

He handed me a bag with a carefully wrapped present inside. I untied the ribbon slowly, trying to breathe. Inside was a small statue of a goddess, looking almost as good as new.

“Your grandfather gave that to me when I left Vietnam. He picked it out himself. I think you and your family should have it now.”

“I…but…can’t…he gave it to you so it belongs to you,” I managed to say.

“No, I think he’d want you to have it.”

I don’t have words to describe how I felt in that moment. Even when my mind had reassembled itself after being completely blown, I didn’t know how to thank Rob properly. He said our encounter provided him with closure since he’d long wondered what had happened to my grandfather.

I went home and emailed the photos to my mother. She declared herself in a state of disbelief. How to make sense of the fact that never-before-seen pictures of her father were delivered by a stranger?

And then she saw the image of the statue. She sent me back a photo of a similar statue she’s had in her house for fifteen years. She had brought it home from my grandfather’s place when he died, but didn’t know how old it was or where it came from. My sister took to Google and discovered the two are apparently companion pieces. We assume Ong Ngoai had bought the pair around the same time, and now they can be reunited.

I’m not sure I’ve fully processed all this yet. So many things had to fall into place before Rob and I could cross paths that September evening. A gift went from my grandfather’s hands to Rob’s, from Vietnam to America, then traveled from the East Coast to the West to make its way back to my family more than forty years later. What are the chances of that? What were the odds of a girl from Saigon ending up in a play in Los Angeles that led to her meeting a friend of her grandfather’s from back home and so long ago?

One of the themes in Year of the Rabbit is how people are connected to each other through time and space, but they often don’t recognize those connections. Characters have seemingly random encounters with each other, not knowing the other person is not really a stranger but someone who could have a profound effect on their lives. (Did I mention I play a character who coincidentally—or maybe not—has my grandmother’s name?)

Rob said he almost didn’t say anything to me that first night; I was chatting with friends who had come see the show. We could’ve been like some of the people in the play, but luckily this isn’t a case of life imitating art.

It’s a story of life being more spectacular than fiction.

Me and Rob

Ong Ngoai, photo by Rob circa 1969

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