Friday, October 14, 2011
February 6th, 2011 - An Object of Beauty
An Object of Beauty by Steve Martin
yeah, THE Steve Martin, the same Steve Martin that manages to do something embarrassing in every film he's in. Unless Meryl Streep is in it? apparently?
My feelings about Steve Martin were once roughly the same as my feelings for "A Christmas Story: the movie" and pretty much for the same reasons. I take an active dislike to movies where someone does something embarrassing.
My parents hated me as a kid because I would throw a fit about all of their favorite movies. *Sidenote...no one hated me as a child because I was adorable and precocious, but I did get a bunch of eyerolls for these passionate dislikes*
But as a writer, Steve Martin rocks. I actually went and bought his book, Shopgirl , which I just found out was a movie, because of this book.
An Object of Beauty is about an art dealer/art historian in New York who's ethics slowly get really messed up. Favorite part: They reprint all of the pictures he talks about, in color, on fancy paper, throughout the book which is awesome sauce. Especially because I wanted to be an art historian before I realized I'd have to deal in all the genres of art I don't like all that much AND would spend a lot of time in school and interning and becoming more and more dependent on my parents/the government fairies who are quick to turn on you.
I might go back into it one day, when I can commit to it and travel and can afford to not have my morals so easily swayed as Lacey's were.
Anyway, Steve Martin is about a billion times smarter than I gave him credit for, and my feelings changed all because of this book. I decided he was awesome after seeing the play he wrote, PIcasso at the Lapis Agile performed at UofW. Which is being turned into a movie and again, I just found about that searching for a link for you.
Blogging is helpful. I'm so excited for this movie that I'm just going to finish now so I can go be internet obsessive about it.
<3s for Steve Martin!
Posted by Alex at 5:42 PM