The Castle

Awhile back--oh, three or four months ago--a regular reader of this space wrote to me privately, with the undeniable intent of taking me to task for being 'too harsh and critical' of the fare that often excretes from the bowels of the Hollywood Machine.

You are burnt out, this reader wrote. You have to be to be so cynical toward the films and movies today, many of which, contrary to what you suggest in your capacity as reviewer and critic, are quite good.

Let me say something in response to this. Something that amounts to my own defense:

I am not burnt out. I go to great lengths to prevent such things. Further, contrary to what YOU suggested and explicitly said in your note to me I am not wrong in my assertions with regards to the quality of fare offered up by the Hollywood Machine. YOU are wrong to think that what passes for entertainment today is even close to being acceptable.

Now. This said let me add something that, superficially, is contradictory to what I just said: I am wrong to be so critical of the films and movies made today. Instead of regularly grumbling and growling about the wetwork that makes millions of dollars I should, instead, focus on the good stuff--albeit the rare stuff--that is about. Those few films and movies worth laying down coin for.

Still with me? Not too shocked and surprised by this revelation? Haven't fallen off your chair, have you, as response?

Good. Come with me, now. I have something I want to share with you. Something that brought joy and delight to my life. Something that will bring joy and delight to your life.

It is said a man's home is his castle. How true. I could not quantify this particular truth any better. But there comes a point when it--home--goes from being a castle--a place of safety and family--to something resembling a funny farm of sorts.

That said, let me say this: Better a funny farm to call home than no home at all.

Which, basically, long way around, here and there, to and fro, with frequent side trips into eccentricity, is the premise of the film "The Castle".

The Kerrigan family--Darryl, Sal, his wife, their children, Tracey, Dale, Steve, and Wayne--live in a house located at 3 Highview Crescent in Melbourne. It is a nice home, this place, this castle, but it has its problems: It is so close to the airport that the house and everything within vibrates when planes landing and taking off pass by, inches from the property line.

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