Robot & Frank

So I went to see a late night showing of this film slightly inebriated with a hipflask of more booze. My drinking habits are not nearly as bad as this blog makes out, I just tend to drink when I want to talk about my life or blog about things, go figure. I have to say, it feels like I've just been watching bloated Hollywood Oscar bait massively long films lately at the cinema; it was almost a relief to sit through a standard tightly paced film which clocked in at just under 90 minutes. That's my initial reaction anyway, plus the other reaction was, well I need a robot in my life, the third was, that's a damn good looking family even by Hollywood standards... But I'll elaborate. As it's painfully obvious that it's very hard for me to be critical about anything as I spend most of my time rambling, these reviews after all, are but mere reactions; I have to say I genuinely liked this film. Go figure, I go to the cinema and see a film I like. I would find it hard to fault this film largely because I felt such a strong liking for it, I liked the story, the characters, the brisk pace, the emotional beats, the reality of the near future and heartbreaking experience of old age finally catching up with you.

Robot & Frank is a simple film, the basic premise is, old man gets given robot nurse to take care of him as his Alzheimer's is starting to become an issue and his kids are busy with their own lives and he's alone. It's an incredibly close to home for a lot of people and an identifiable situation, caring for an aging parent, or painfully losing grasp of your independence. As it's set in the near future, the possibility of robot nurses is a reasonable stretch of the imagination, Robot (who throughout the film remains unnamed - but everyone refers to as Robot) is a likelihood in the future, at least that's what the end credits would have you believe when you see all the different robots capable of menial tasks already. Frank used to be a cat burglar, mostly precious jewels, the more money per pound, and when he notices his robotic nurse seems amenable to his exploits, they become a team. He doesn't really corrupt Robot, Robot's aim is to keep Frank active and healthy; he believes that Frank's 'project' is doing him some good, so he seems happy to go along with the lock picking and safe cracking as long as Frank has something to concentrate on. The pair become more acquainted and Frank begins to accept his buddy as he learns more about him and the robot responds to his cutting insults with calm chirpy responses and takes good care of him all the while. Damn it's just so nice to see an curmudgeon and his mechanical nurse just getting along once in a while.

This is going to be an incredibly short blog I fear, because I don't want to give much away, it's a film I think people should see, mostly because it's not your standard popcorn fest, but it's a genuinely moving and humorous piece of cinema. Plus Frank Langella has Liv Tyler and James Marsden as his children (who look frighteningly close to siblings and are devilishly attractive) and he is wooing the dazzlingly unaged Susan Sarandon, it's a damn good looking cast. Fine I got a bit teary at the end, and it wasn't because of Robot which I was expecting, it was the perfectly human and real prospect of growing old and accepting it, the film doesn't explicitly spell it out, but it's still incredibly heart breaking... Actually, that's all I really wanted to say. The film is well paced, it doesn't outstay it's welcome, the developments and emotional beats feel earned, there are some laughs, there are some sad smiles, a couple of tears, it's just a really well structured film. I just thought it was great, and the fact that no one has heard of it saddens me because it's quite a little gem that should be enjoyed.

Interactions

So, have a social engagement with a friend, he brings some friends with him. We go for a drink. I leave and come home to drink more, now am sufficiently soused. Going to the cinema for a late night showing of Robot & Frank. Probably will have nothing interesting to say about it because I will be too drunk to stay awake through the whole thing. We shall see...

Rage

So guy at work came in today and kept pestering me if we served steak. I calmly explained that we were mostly just a sushi restaurant and to go to a steak house for steak, I know I shouldn’t be encouraging people to eat elsewhere but if he wanted steak he had come to come the wrong place. Went over again, he asked again for steak and I just responded with ‘why?’. He showed me an advert on his phone, ‘Steak and BJ day.’
Him: ‘Well if I can’t get one, any chance of the other?’
Me: ‘Feel free to take this personally, you’re an arsehole.’ Stomped away.

Ineptitude

I am the clumsiest person on the planet lately, I have no idea why. I thought it was a chemical imbalance, like perhaps my drinking had led me to this sorry state but to be honest... I haven't drank an alcoholic beverage in about four days, and I haven't been actually drunk for a couple of weeks now. Wait... No, I've always been clumsy but lately it's been more apparent. I always have bruises on my shins and knees and I have no idea when they happened.

So here's a list of the accidents I've had in the past couple of weeks.

• Hands are covered in scratches from shifting and moving boxes during deliveries and arranging chopsticks. My hands are the roughest least feminine hands ever, I have never moisturised them consistently and I have done a lot of heavy work with them... Currently I have about five unexplained scratches between my hands. 
• Speaking of which I broke my nail shifting boxes, managed to rip it down to size with painful results.
• Dropped a bottle of wine on my ankle.
• Kicked coffee table, that was a hangover incident but I still have a massive cut on toe.
• There was the miso soup tray incident I'm still getting laughs about. Fine, I cried, sure the customers were surprised, I made a right ole bloody mess. Apart from one person at work everyone else, even people who weren't on shift, asked me if I was ok the proceeding days because it had been such an event/scene.
• Smashed some glasses at work, obviously you can drop the damn things on the floor and they bounce right back, but you accidentally tip them over on the counter and they smash into a zillion pieces - irritating.
• Burnt my hand on the pan when I was making an omelette. Didn't realise until later and there was a perfect curve across my hand from where I pressed it against the pan. Omelette was burnt too...
• The broom/dustpan thing spontaneously broke in my hands... Or I kicked it. I can't recall what happened first, but it's definitely dead.
• Dropped my keys down the elevator shaft. Silly me carelessly dropping my coat, picking it up, the keys fall, it was all in slow motion, like I didn't think it would happen so had delayed reaction... Oh and to retrieve the keys I would have to pay over £500 to get the chaps in to do fish them out, it's a tough two man job and the charges would amount to way too much money - told the concierge her humour was extremely dark. Paid £30 instead to replace keys and fob.
• Spilled tea all over computer at the Citizen's Advice Bureau. Such charitable people of course were more concerned that tea was getting all over my scarf I had carelessly left on the floor... The keyboard did not come out of the situation so well, neither did my carefully collated paperwork for my assessment. It now has a nice 'vintage' feel, at least that's what I told my supervisor, she admired my wit, although previously I had been hiding under the computer desk and had to be coaxed out; if anything I keep them entertained there.
• I burnt my mouth on my pizza...

Ok I ran out of examples at the end. Although my mouth really hurts. I'm done being useless. Now I think about it, all my statements about not being allowed in the kitchen near hot/sharp objects are completely justified, luckily people just laugh at me when I tell them this, except I'm not joking. I'm shit at cooking too.

Trinity

Writing a blog is so frustrating lately. I've written about five drafts and refused to publish them because they make absolutely no sense and my life is so dull there is no way to inject any wit or excitement into it. Words fail me. Writing is hard for me, I love talking to people, or at least summing things up to them in a funny way. Once the words are written down I have to keep editing myself, I think what I've said is useless or boring so I delete it. When I'm at work I speak without thinking, I can inject a pause, a smile, some awkward hand movements, I can create a persona, an appearance of jolly idiotic waif. I used to be a ghost because I barely said anything to anyone, I had no discernible traits about myself and something I've learnt over the past few months is that embracing my faults and my oddities makes me a much more interesting person; if self-deprecating. I'm quite happy having no direction, I'm fine being rubbish at things, I'm happy to be unfit and a bit confusing and lost. At least it's something, at least I can admit these things, I don't mind being imperfect as long as I know this and I have something to say. Which is annoying because when I write a blog I feel like nothing I say is remotely worth acknowledging. So there's something to add to my list...

So here's a quick sum up of the three posts I never actually got round to posting, fun? No?

Of course not!

Plea

I wrote this when I was upset because in the grand space of two days I had two prospective job offers, then two weeks later I had heard nothing. Of course this led to me drinking and tossing and turning and wondering what exactly I could possibly have done to warrant this ignorance, cue drunken rambling entry. As it turns out my current job status is still a bit up in the air, but there is a solid ground rapidly approaching, I only hope I land on my feet. The blog ended with me asking myself, why I thought I was special, of course this is not the case, I am not special. Oh and if anyone cares, I shall not be leaving the waitressing world just yet, my degree is still gathering dust and my volunteer work is giving me confidence and a desire to actively do something charitable with my life, but for now a waitress is all I will be.

Fervour

This was another one where I wrote about my religious beliefs. I was looking at cathedrals, remember that? I ranted about how nothing lasts in this world, none of us will leave anything tangible behind for history to remember us. The reason I still cling to religious belief is because as a history student I find comfort in the great span of tradition, sure it's outdated, pointless and unnecessary in our modern world, but a thread of the past stays with me, and with it a respect. It feels like most people are so concerned with themselves, their futures, they don't acknowledge the millions of others who have lived out the same petty existences. I went on to describe how no one is unique, but that something that connects me to that grand history of anonymity keeps me safe. I was sad when I wrote that too... But I have an admiration for tradition, and a respect for the past and for those who have experienced it. At 22 it's probably a bit lame to say, I respect my elders ho-ho-ho but I do, even if talking to old people tends to make me sad inside, I still have a great affection for someone who has simply gone about living their life and is still here to happily tell their tale; my point being, I don't mind listening. It was an odd blog, hence why I didn't really want to post it.

First Love

Oh man, this was a fun one. I was a teenager, like fourteen going on sixteen, I fell for a guy who could play bass, who wore a coat because it made him look like The Doctor (ten at the time), he was detached and cool and all those things I found interesting about a guy, he had the floppy brown hair and eyes... Well I have an affection for eyes in general. I pined for him for ages, he had his own attentions pinned to someone else. Time happened and we eventually ended up somehow 'going out'. It didn't last two weeks, but the we would go to the park and lie on the grass and stare at the sky and the trees, we would chastely kiss but I discovered we had literally nothing to say to each other. We just talked lamely about the weather... So I dumped him... Go figure.

This in turn led to me discussing how I was ghost back then, I had no discernible personality I was just an agreeable happy wall with no thoughts or opinions or feelings of my own. I just followed what everyone else was doing; I was nothing. Oh yes, we're back to that. It has taken me a long time to carve an identity out what I've got but I'm getting somewhere. I feel better for it. Watch this space...