EL SEGUNDO HERALD November 25, 2021 Page 5
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Entertainment
Film Review
In C’mon C’mon, Joaquin Phoenix
Sees Life Through a Child’s Eyes
By Morgan Rojas for Cinemacy
Watching a Mike Mills film is always a
very intimate experience because he draws
inspiration from his own life. Beginners was
for his dad, 20th Century Women was for his
mom, and his new film, C’mon C’mon, is for
his kid. Acting as a time capsule of childhood
innocence, viewed from the perspective of the
young at heart, C’mon C’mon is an earnest
and delicate relationship drama that reflects
on the importance of human connection.
Johnny (Joaquin Phoenix) is a middle-aged,
single man who is consumed with his job as
a field radio journalist in NYC. His current
project is interviewing young people about
their candid thoughts on the future. His ability
to connect with these kids is a foreshadowing
of what the universe has in store for him next.
Johnny has a semi-estranged relationship
with his sister, Viv (Gaby Hoffmann), so it’s
a little surprising that she calls him asking
for a favor. Viv is desperate for him to watch
her young son Jesse (Woody Norman) for
the few days she will be gone. Hesitant at
first, Johnny sees this as an opportunity to
re-connect with the nephew he barely knows.
What becomes revealed as Johnny and Jesse
spend time together is the epiphany that,
despite being generations apart, they are
actually more alike than they know.
In addition to being a touching tribute to
his own nuclear family, C’mon C’mon is an
ode to the overall challenges of parenting in
the 21st Century. It’s easy to see the Mills’
school of thought here – the uncertainty and
amazement of raising a human being while
you yourself are still figuring out how to
co-exist in the world.
Joaquin Phoenix gives a phenomenal performance
as Johnny (a man who Mills admits
is partly based on himself). Phoenix’s organic
embodiment of the character and emotional
translucency is on full display. British-born
Woody Norman is the film’s biggest revelation;
with his mop of messy hair, charming
doe-eyes, and precocious sensibilities, his
ability to hold his own against a Hollywood
heavyweight like Phoenix is not only admirable
but downright amazing.
Shot by cinematographer Robbie Ryan (The
Favourite, American Honey), black & white
gives C’mon C’mon an obvious “cinematic
fairytale” look that is more intentional than
simply for aesthetic purposes. Life, as well
all know, is never black or white. We live in
the grey. C’mon C’mon also lives in that grey,
tackling philosophical issues that have no clear
answer and proposing hypothetical questions
that receive varied reactions. What Johnny
and Jesse navigate throughout the course of
the film is a whole lot of greyness–and it’s
Sacred Cows and Curries—
Dining Out (or Not!) in India
Article and photos
by Ben & Glinda Shipley
It will either infuriate you or endear them
to you, but the British, with their astonishing
tin ear for foreign languages, have left a trail
of odd monikers everywhere they’ve ventured
on the globe. Venice, Florence, and Naples
instead of Venezia, Firenze, and Napoli. Frogs
for French, Jerries for Germans, Eyeties for
Italians. Bombay and Mysore for Mumbai
and Mysuru.
In the 19th century Indian Raj, one favorite
culinary mangling gave us the term “curry”—
from the Tamil “kari”, which means nothing
more than “sauce” or “stew”. Even today,
tikka masalas are all the rage in England, but
the word “masala” means nothing more than
“mixture”. Neither of these terms, in fact,
says a thing about the ingredients in a dish.
But they do key in on one timeless bit
of foodie serendipity, which is that roasted
and ground spices are the key to Indian cuisine—
just like sauces to the French, pasta to
the Italians, broiling to the Americans, and
chopping and dicing to the Chinese. Every
venerable Indian amah guards her secret
masala recipe, passed down and augmented
through Lord knows how many generations.
And at the opposite extreme from fast food,
every Indian meal you consume will be a
unique product of that chef’s family, culture,
religion, personal tastes, and mood.
After five years of traveling in India, we no
longer buy pre-mixed powders, but roast, grind,
and mix our own. We still blend something
you’d recognize as curry powder, but only for
western and Jamaican dishes (deviled eggs,
anyone?). For Indian food, there’s nothing
like the aroma that greets the visitor when
you throw together a five-course meal with
that morning’s fresh spices. And it’s really
not that ambitious.
The possibilities are mathematically endless,
but savory Indian dishes start in two
basic directions:
Coriander—cumin—turmeric (in the Indian
shops: dhanya—jeera—haldi). Mix in a variety
of other spices, and you have something
you’ll recognize as western curry powder.
Cardamom—cumin—cinnamon (elaichi—
jeera—daalacheenee). Start here, and
eventually you’ll arrive at garam masala.
To these bases, Indian chefs and amahs
add saffron (kesar), peppercorns (kalimirch),
chili (laal mirch), fenugreek (methi), fennel
(saunf), cloves (laung), nutmeg (jaiphal),
anise (chakri phool), dried bay and curry
leaves (karee pattee), and the seeds of celery
(ajavaayan), caraway (shah jeera), poppy
(khas-khas), sesame (til), and black mustard
(raai). Not to mention asafoetida (don’t ask).
Not to forget garlic, ginger, onions, tamarind,
and tomatoes. Not to neglect ghee (butter),
coconut, and yogurt.
Like any other cuisine, there are distinct
regional variations in Indian cuisine. On the
west coast of America, you’ll most likely be
familiar with Punjabi, from Northwest India,
Kashmir, and Pakistan (think lamb, tomatoes,
marinade, Tandoor). The British started out
in Bengal in Eastern India, so that tends to
Cmon Cmon, courtesy of A24.
See Travel, page 20
See Film Review, page 6
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