2002-12-30 | 7:39 p.m.

corduroy licorice's mom was known for coining a phrase. she'd charge corduroy a nickel every time he used foul language.

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my holiday vacation was quite a pleasant one. full of food, friends, merrymaking and movies. here are my christmas season cinematic findings:

morvern callar was a movie that daysleeper requested that i see since he doubted it would make it to his town. thanks for the tip, e! it was a great film that took the audience on a nonlinear road trip with a girl coming to grips with her boyfriend's suicide. in many ways, it reminded me of one of my favorite movies of the year, what time is it there? both have a real-to-life pace that did so much to absorb me. both directors let scenes unfold with amazingly natural pacing and rarely rely on dialogue. speaking of minimal chatter, samantha morton, who was so terrific as sean penn's mute love interest in sweet and lowdown, turns in another breathtaking performance. she truly has the face of an angel with dirty wings. my favorite line in the movie is when morvern says that the best parts of her journey have been the quiet places. i feel the same way about this lovely film. the quiet places feel much more real.

talk to her is the story of two men who meet through female coma victims. i know, i know, such a hackneyed premise. pedro almodovar has made a lush tribute to the love of women in this touching, thoughtful and warmly amusing story. even though i loved the hijinks of his early film women on the verge of a nervous breakdown, this movie shows an artist who has burnished his style until it glistens from within. this one is definitely going on my top 10 of the year list (appearing at a diaryland page near you soon).

adaptation. is like a friend who i enjoy on some levels, but who really annoys me on others. the pretentiousness of the period in the title says it all. overall, it's a fun two-hour-plus ride into the feverish writer's block nightmare of screenwriter charlie kaufman. in real life, he also penned being john malkovich (which makes a fun cameo appearance as a film set-within-a-film). i admire the movie's chutzpah and sly wit, but loathe it's self-congratulatory, duct-taped-together storytelling. while many have raved about the performances, only nicolas cage impressed me. he taps into his sensitive schmuck style in hilarious and charming fashion.

about schmidt won't make my top ten list, but i would give it the "best movie poster" award. i love the image of the salt-and-pepper chinned nicholson under his everpresent cloud. he is terrific in the role of a retired insurance man who is struggling to find the silver lining in life. his sweet letters to the african boy he sponsors through one of those sally struthers-type charity organizations provides a terrific way for us to get to know him. the scenes with schmidt and his wife are the best. hearing their all-american slang was comfort food for my ears. and you can't beat jack. unless you're lara flynn boyle.

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2002 is almost ghost, yo. so here's wishing you a fantabulous 2003, my darlinks. i raise my glass of cristal to you and your boo.

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