This was not a very good weekend for movies. I spent most of Saturday waiting for my crochet teacher and fixing Daniel's '70s pants. I can't even remember what, if anything, I saw yesterday, with the exception of "Burning Bad." But that's TV, so it doesn't count.
The only movie I saw this weekend was "Shut Up & Sing," a documentary about the Dixie Chicks made over the course of three years while they were on tour and while they were making their last CD.
This movie did three things: 1) it helped me remember how much I like the Dixie Chicks' music; 2) showed me that not all music studios are fancy and glossy like they show on regular TV and 3) it made me regret not being able to play an instrument with a lot of passion--passion that's expressed through something that looks like an artistic stare or the pensive look (get that look by closing your eyes and looking like you're in slight pain). I played percussion in high school and a little bit of cello later, but all I ever did was tap my foot and bob my head a little--no artistic stares or blinding pains. That's why I have a regular job.
2 comments:
I loved Shut Up & Sing. It made me so angry at how one media company can make a mountain out of a molehill and stir up controvery over nothing. It also made me feel happy that although I'm not rich and famous, at least I don't get death threats. That's the trade-off.
I loved this movie. I'm with Jenny - thank goodness I'm not rich and getting death threats. Ok, well - I don't think I'd mind being rich.
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