Rubber Dolls Part III: A Bicycle and a Breakup

Maintaining a healthy lifestyle was nearly a religion for Mila. Early on, she figured bipolar was challenging enough, so she did everything in her power to minimize the risk of other problems like heart disease and cancer which ran in our family. But there was more, she frequently reminded me. The lithium to control her bipolar illness could take a toll on her kidneys, and doctors in San Francisco warned she had early markers of diabetes and macular degeneration. 

 

I admired the way she tried to protect her health. Mila took her meds regularly, and steered clear of anything like tobacco, alcohol, or pot, to avoid the risks they might pose. She drank cranberry juice to protect her kidneys, switched to a sugar substitute called Stevia to keep diabetes at bay, and always wore sunglasses to avoid blindness in later life. She also drank green tea and cooked vegan, including tasty meals of lentil soup, kale salads, and other veggie delights. Spinach became a staple of her diet. And her knowledge of medical breakthroughs, nutrition, and miracle supplements in the news was impressive, but would later make her more vulnerable to expensive multi-level marketing schemes. 

 

Although she stayed fairly focused on her physical health, one of the downsides to Mila’s bipolar illness was a lack of organizational skills, on full display during the move Dan and I orchestrated from San Francisco. 

After her furniture was unloaded in San Diego, she was so despondent from fatigue and the episode with the homeless guy, I had to set up her kitchen, unpack and organize her clothes, and take her shopping for new supplies. My hope was that she’d be able to maintain it once we finished. Despite my repeated attempts through the early years, disorganization won, and a new person would eventually enter the scene to raise that bar.

In the meantime, there was another challenge Mila took on with gusto. Now settled in her new home with the warmer San Diego climate so much to her liking, she felt a void, and was eager to share her life with a man. Besides, "married people live longer," she said, like it was part of her healthy diet. Within weeks, she’d scoured the dating websites to identify someone who might fit the bill. One day she called to report she’d be having coffee that afternoon with someone she met online. Her voice rippled with excitement. My enthusiasm peaked, too, but so did a red flag. I reminded her not to give him her address until she got to know him better, and she assured me she knew the rules of online dating, so no worries.  

 

All night long, she didn’t answer her phone, so I went to bed with wild scenarios in my head. The next day, the phone rang early afternoon and it was Mila. My tight chest could relax now. The new beau surprised her with a bicycle because he knew she didn’t have a car, and delivered it to her house. I held my breath and waited for the rest of the story. Afterwards, he made dinner for her at his house. Within a week, he was staying with her most nights, and within a few months, he revealed he’d met someone new online. Mila was shocked. He told her like it was no big deal, she said, with her pulling the information out of him.

 

Naturally, she was devastated. And I was disappointed, too. After the three-year fiasco with a homeless man Mila somehow thought she could help, she should meet someone responsible and caring. The new beau seemed like a decent guy, and they appeared truly devoted at family events. 

 

The result was disturbing. Mila soon became confused and spiraled downward, calling paramedics daily for a ride to the ER. First, she couldn’t remember if she’d taken her meds or not, then she feared she was having a stroke, and finally, she sent an email to her ex-beau stating she wanted to kill me and take my husband. It would be weeks before she stabilized again. Even months later, as we drove to a doctor’s visit, she confessed she’d also called a suicide line for help after the breakup. I was saddened to recognize she wouldn't call us for help, and was unlikely to confide in us. I wondered if her therapist even knew the details. She presented a cavalier front for us, proclaiming she’d find another candidate online.

 

Even though she lived nearby, we couldn’t save Mila from herself, and she wouldn’t necessarily share her true feelings. Dan reminded me I wasn’t her mother and I couldn’t keep tabs on her. But I’d been looking out for her since I was fourteen years old. It was tough during those high school years. When we both left Kentucky as adults, it became easier to manage by phone with hundreds or thousands of miles between us. I could go on with my life and put her problems aside, at least temporarily. It was much harder now, with her living close by again. 

Rubber Dolls Part II: Life in California

For thirty-three years, Mila lived in the bustling Richmond District of San Francisco, not far from Golden Gate Park. When I traveled north to visit, we’d walk to dinner a few blocks from her apartment on 12th Avenue to revel in Chinese cuisine on Clement Street, a trendy section of the city that’s been coined the New Chinatown in recent years. Afterwards, the brightly lit shops were perfect for browsing everything from paintings of Oriental landscapes to jewel-colored silk pajamas, their cord buttons shaped like flowers. We might take an early morning stroll the next day along the pond on Lake Street, a soft wind inviting us to join the parade of locals jogging, pushing baby strollers, and sprinting to catch a bus, their purses and briefcases swinging. One time we visited the vineyard-drenched hillsides of Napa Valley to sample the region’s riches and purchase a favorite for washing down crusty bread and cheese on the lawn of the winery. Heading home in the hot afternoon, Mila took a page from the hippies’ playbook of the sixties and discarded her t-shirt to ride shotgun in her bra, next to the boyfriend who served as our driver. A tad more conservative, I cringed in the back seat and hoped I didn’t have to play along. Mila had definitely followed her dream after watching stories about the Summer of Love in San Francisco on TV to claim her city by the sea. Other than momentary exceptions, I was more than happy to share it with her. 

Mila (L) and me in Napa Valley in the early '80s.

Meanwhile, I lived in five different neighborhoods that were home in Southern California, four in the San Diego area, and one in a charming beach town near LAX. Mila visited once or twice a year, sometimes by motorcycle when she was married to John. I recall one visit when they never arrived at the designated time. I couldn’t sleep, waiting for a phone call to dispel my worst fears. The next day they pulled into our driveway on the motorcycle late morning. “The freeway was backed up for miles,” Mila said. “We were stuck for hours, and it was past midnight before we could exit and check into a motel room. We wanted to call, but there wasn’t a phone, so we collapsed on the bed and fell asleep.” I didn’t know whether to hug them or kill them for putting us through such torture. I could almost forgive the night before, but why didn’t they phone that morning? 

Years later, during a long and tangled divorce, John was diagnosed with advanced Parkinson’s Disease and admitted to a VA nursing home, a sad ending to their 16-year marriage. And Mila soon lost her job at City Hall. I’d been asking to visit for three years, but she refused, one excuse after another. I’d already determined there was a homeless man living with her, which led to patches of anxiety and sleeplessness for me. She denied it repeatedly, but with the job loss, Dan and I concocted a plan. I called her, my antenna flaring when she went to the bathroom and closed the door to talk. “Hey Mila, I was looking at houses in a mobile home park for a friend, and thought you could probably afford one if you ever wanted to move to warmer weather and be closer to all of us.” There was a brief pause before she replied. “Oh no. I’m staying in San Francisco, Vicki.” Two days later, she called back and expressed interest in the “double-wide.” When she flew to San Diego to check out two manufactured houses I’d previewed, the homeless man had already been arrested for a second or third time, charged with trying to break her arm. I asked why she never came to us for help. Her response was quick.  “I was afraid of him. And I never had a plan to get away until you gave me one.” 

Mila couldn’t stop thanking us for her “witness protection program,” which became our joke. Now we could enjoy her without worrying about a dreaded report that something terrible had happened. After getting settled, and changing all her accounts and passwords (he used her ATM for cash), she signed up to volunteer with NAMI (National Alliance for Mental Illness), joined the KnitWits, her church’s knitting group, and became a regular swimmer at the local gym where we occasionally ran into each other. And she was eventually recruited as social director for her homeowners’ association. At our annual Kentucky Derby parties, the social butterfly greeted guests with her gorgeous smile and a famous Kentuckian name tag. I wanted to cry tears of joy, for Mila and me. She’d blossomed from an abusive cocoon into a sunny garden full of family and new friends. 

Mila (L) and me at 2013 KY Derby Party.

Now we met for lunch, perused farmer’s markets, and cruised beach shops. For the first time in our adult lives, we lived within minutes of each other. Thanks to newer medications lending greater stability, Mila was grateful to be clear-headed and living a full life. It had been far too long with me in the role of a mother looking out for my sister when the stress and disappointments of life brought on bipolar depression, confusion, and delusions. Hospitalizations and new drug regimens over the years had resulted in periods of medication fog, and recoveries took months, even a year or so in some instances. Now we were in a relationship of equals. How thrilling for both of us. I had my sister back. We could help her avoid the stress and poor judgements that led to breakdowns. At least that’s what I hoped.

Rubber Dolls Part I: Early Days

I haven't written a lot about my growing up years in Louisville, other than a piece a few years ago about our family history with the Kentucky Derby. However, my sister and I collaborated on a draft memoir a few years ago that is about her life as a person living with bipolar, and my role as a family member. It's on hold now, but I want to share a preview of our story, which I'll post in four parts. This is the first.

My sister Mila is eleven months older than me, but we were about the same size as young girls growing up in Louisville, so it wasn’t unusual to be asked if we were twins. As preteens, our acrobatic ballet teacher introduced us as The Rubber Dolls when we performed onstage for holiday and hospital shows around town. Adding to the good times of our youth were festive gatherings with extended family at our grandparents’ house, blocks from Churchill Downs. The annual Kentucky Derby party was one of the highlights as we watched racegoers parade on sidewalks and cars crawl along the parkway from our seats on the front porch swing. 

Vicki (left) and Mila

The joyful memories of those early days were disrupted, however, when an unwelcome guest entered our world and never left. Mila was in the tenth grade and I was in the ninth as we sat at the kitchen table for a snack of cookies and milk with our mother, and my sister’s eyes glazed over in panic. She relayed a story about a boy at school who’d chased her with a knife, forcing her to run outside and hide. Then her eyes darted toward the window, and she pointed to a truck rolling down the street, urgently warning us that the men inside were government agents searching for her. The terror etched in her face was that of a mad woman. Chills rippled over my skin. 

The hallucinations and delusions haunting Mila were a preview of coming attractions, a serious illness that led to months of severe depression. I was the bolder of the two of us, but the chain of events unfolding before my eyes rendered me helpless, my emotions swaying between grief, compassion, and fear. My parents’ reactions, heightened anxiety one moment, reassurance the next, added to my feeling of doom and despair.

Schizophrenia was the initial diagnosis, but there were no voices, so manic depression, now known as bipolar illness, was the one that stuck. It was Type I, which means the onset was in youth (like Type I diabetes). Despite lifelong medication and weekly therapy, the illness would cycle into periodic psychotic breakdowns, which meant family support during Mila’s early career in Louisville, and much more support from me and my family when we both moved west. The roller coaster of this brain disorder would offer few thrills and ample sideshows.

But like the Rubber Doll of her youth, Mila always bounced back, time after time, fortunate to achieve a life that’s been both tragic and full. By the time she moved to her “city by the sea,” she’d already secured impressive jobs with Naval Intelligence and Social Security Appeals judges. Additional positions would include work with more Social Security judges, patent attorneys, and the Real Estate Office at City Hall; and producing a Youth Government Day with Mayor Diane Feinstein for the San Francisco Jaycees.

To be continued: Life in California 

Serving People in Distress in the Age of Covid

About ten years ago, I joined a voluntary board at Vista Community Clinic to support the clinics and community programs that serve vulnerable groups with little or no health insurance. While millions more people were able to purchase insurance or qualify for Medicaid (MediCal in CA) for the first time under the Obama administration, millions more are still left out or can't afford to buy it or cover co-pays. 

Vista Community Clinic serves nearly 70,000 patients in three counties with nine clinic locations, and many more community members through dozens of outreach programs. As a board member, I am always impressed at our monthly meetings when a staff person shares yet another program or clinical innovation that ensures families can live safer, healthier lives. 

Now that Covid-19 has turned our whole society upside down, with a lot of  people laid off and losing health benefits, Community Health Centers have become even more critical. Their role in testing and treating Covid cases, and supporting families in need is more vital than ever. Take just five minutes to watch this 2020 Report to the Community and learn more about the great work being done. Be sure to  pass the information along if you know someone who needs help. 

2020 Report to the Community

 

 

On Pause in the Age of Covid

In January and February, as reports from China trickled through American media about another virus transmitted from animal to humans, Dan and I were packing suitcases for a trip to Florida. We'd heard about pandemics before, in years past. There was the swine flu, various bird flus, and SARS. They seemed to come and go without affecting most of us, our economy or health. Would this be different?

 

With hand sanitizers and masks in tow for flying, we went to Florida mid-February and were greeted with warm reunions on four stops throughout the sunshine state. Lucky timing! Special treats were a designer home tour in Palm Beach and the elaborate Imagine Museum of glass in St. Petersburg. But best of all were the close connections with people we love, nearly absent with Covid-19 

 

At home in Southern California, my scheduled shoulder surgery on March 2nd was in an OR next door to my grandson's, under the knife for the second of 15 surgeries on his leg, foot and shoulder. He was the victim of a tragic incident of random violence the day before, just two months from college graduation. After five weeks in the hospital and months of home care, on June 23rd he took steps on the injured foot, thanks to amazing perseverance, a stoic attitude and dream team of surgeons. The good news meant we could all breathe easier and walk lighter, too. 

In the meantime, my recovery proceeded with minimal stress as Covid-19 percorlated around the globe. From a perch on the couch, I tracked daily reports channeling through social and news media indicating the rest of the world was hunkering down, too. Little did I know beforehand what lucky timing my surgery was, since hospitals were canceling elective procedures in order to make room for Covid care. Trauma patients like my grandson were relocated time and again as floor plans were reconfigured to isolate Covid cases. I cringed to think what might happen, or not happen, if someone had another serious illness or injury in our new normal environment.

Early on, some said Covid descended without warning, but there were alerts in the world of public health. They came in the form of HIV, bird and swine flus, and SARS, all raising red flags at the CDC, with responsibility for pandemic preparation. But an unexpected blow hit the CDC three years ago, with major funding and staff cuts, and waning interest from Washington in a pandemic too illusive to consider. But still, we do live in the United States, which has the best medical research and treatment in the world. We would surely tackle this intrusion to our former way of life quickly. And yet, we still lead the world in the number of cases diagnosed. The rest is history, with plenty of fodder for nightly news, political cartoons, late night TV, ZOOM debates, Twitter, radio talk shows, and policymakers. The loss has been heartbreaking -- dying souls without the comfort of family, and survivors who may be dealing with recovery for months or years. The burden has been daunting -- frontline workers with minimal protective equipment and treatment options, forced to prioritize care and hold the hands of dying patients while they put their own lives at risk. 

The Covid era has given all of us an extended pause, and presented a painful reality of what should've happened but didn't and doesn't. So, with a heavy heart put aside, I want to pause and count the  silver linings, because there have been some. Perhaps you also can find some: 

• 
  
• Taking a break from the merry-go-round of life, with the gift of time
• An adorable adopted tabby cat, Butterscotch 
• Great advice from Pluto Living
• Shopping for cat stuff -- condo, string toys and outdoor playpen
• Long walks around the hood with Dan (before the golf course reopened)
• Daily walks with my neighbor buddy and new faces on the streets and trails at Carrillo Ranch 
• Baking, home improvements, and gardening to give new life to pots and succulents 
• Block party Bingo from driveways on Thursday night with music, treats, and winners
• An outdoor office with rugs, umbrellas, fresh paint, my laptop and Alexa 
• Lovely dinners on the patio with friends at the opposite end of the table 
• ZOOM to keep in touch and actually see HS friends and others near and far
• A short trip to Oregon to revel in family time, gorgeous gardens, and farm to table dining
• Outdoor family celebrations and visits
• Huge laughs with Sarah Cooper 
• TV Shows -- Homeland, Succession, My Brilliant Friend, Ray Donovan, Hamilton, etc.
• Movies -- Vitus, The Next Three Days, Battered Bastards of Baseball, etc.
• Fire Stick thanks to a neighbor's expertise setting us up
• Sewing projects, some done, some waiting for weeks or months
• Window visits and appointments with my sister
• A relaxed recovery with new PT exercises for my daily routine
• A return to yoga after a three-year hiatus -- Yoga with Adrienne Home

   

Wishing all of us safety, health and compassion toward one another💜 

 

Dia De Los Muerta

San Diego County websites have posted a flurry of celebrations starting in October and running through Sunday, November 3rd for Dia De Los Muerta, Day of the Dead, which remembers and honors loved ones who have departed. A candlelight parade next Saturday night in Old Town will wind its way through local streets to a cemetery where families have adorned gravesites with flowers, candy, photos and other mementos from the lives of those who have passed. Altars called ofrendas are created in homes as well as public venues for all to enjoy. Anyone inclined to dress for the occasion can choose a festive costume in a wide range of black (what else) options, including skirts, jackets and hats decorated with black lace and colorful flowers. The afterworld theme is repeated in ghostly white and multi-colored skulls and lanky skeletons, with artistic flair and humor on full display in the creative outfits and face paintings. Unlike more somber memorials following funerals, annual Day of the Dead events incorporate music, crafts, dance, tailgate ofrendas and joyous gatherings to celebrate the full cycle of life.

The holiday tradition originated in Mexico and South America. Official dates are October 31-Novermber 2nd. I was inspired by friends in Northern California who wanted to visit San Diego during Day of the Dead to create my own ofrenda to honor my parents whose portraits were recently completed by Amy’s husband, Dustin. Flowers, candles and tissue paper cutouts in the orange color associated with Day of the Dead make up the basic elements, along with jewelry, coins and other mementos from their lives. 

Check out this National Geographic Article  and images for more information on the holiday.
Here’s a sampling of celebrations in San Diego County:  San Diego Day of the Dead Events

An ofrenda for Marvin and Norma Hale, parents of Mila, Vicki, Gary and Lary Hale.

Winners and Losers to Catch

If you missed the big night for the 91st Academy Awards, or didn't see many of the movies, I can fill you in on who won and what stood out. At least some of these films are still in theaters and many appear on various smart TV options like On Demand, Netflix, etc.

Green Book, winner in the Best Picture and Original Screenplay categories, was a truly worthy choice but not the blockbuster I expected for Best Picture. It's the historical tale of Don Shirley, a pianist and composer played by Mahershala Ali (Moonlight) who's part of an all-black trio performing in the deep South in the early '60s. Shirley and his white driver, Tony Lip, portrayed by Viggo Mortensen, are polar opposites, the former an accomplished, sophisticated musician with a doctorate, and the latter an Italian bouncer from Brooklyn who needed a job. The pair  begins to bond when the slurs and slights fly like arrows in local venues and towns. Heartfelt portrayals by Ali and Mortensen carry the weight of the story, based on true events and people, for a powerful message about prejudice, and friendship that grows from mutual understanding and respect. The film's title is taken from The Negro Motorist Green Book, published from 1936 to 1967 as a guide for African American travelers who sought a "vacation without aggravation." Ali's exemplary film and TV resume is impressive for a guy with an understated dignity. He picked up the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor and will surely be an Emmy nominee for his role in the HBO TV series, True Detective. Check out Green Book. It's a movie you don't want to miss.

The blockbuster I was rooting for is Bohemian Rhapsody, a nominee for Best Picture at the Academy Awards, but winner at the Golden Globes for best Drama Motion Picture. Rami Malek, as lead singer Freddie Mercury in the British rock group Queen, won best Actor in a Leading Role after picking up similar trophies at the Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild events. I knew next to nothing about Queen except that Freddie Mercury died of AIDS in the 80's. As Mercury, Malek embodies the performer's effusive style and command of the audience, and with fellow actor musicians recreates the playlist of electric, high-powered songs from Queen's 1985 Live Aid concert. Everyone agreed Queen stole the show. It was completely unexpected at the time since they'd been relatively dormant for several years and were scheduled between two much bigger acts with worldwide fan bases -- U2 and Elton John. While the movie ends with that explosive performance, it's the tangled history of the band and Mercury's own story arc that infuse so much heart and get under your skin. In addition to Malek's Oscar for an over-the-top portrayal of Mercury's troubled life, the film picked up additional Oscars for Film Editing, Sound Mixing, and Sound Editing. It's a must see movie even if you don't know a thing about Queen. You just might recognize some of the songs, like We Will Rock You, I Want to Break Free, Ay-Oh, and Another One Bites the Dust. 

If Beale Street Could Talk did not receive a nomination for Best Picture, unfortunately, but Regina King (Netflix Seven Seconds) took home the Oscar for best Actress in a Supporting Role. The film is based on a novel by James Baldwin and is directed by Barry Jenkins. Gorgeous cinematography casts a spell for an intimate portrayal of two shy black youth in New York's Beale Street neighborhood as they fall head-over-heels in love. The tenderness of the young couple floats off the screen in lush impressionistic images as we get to know their world and families, in which some viewers may find similarities to their own. But love, peace and harmony are disrupted by circumstances and a crooked cop who turns the sweetness sour. As Sharon, the unflinching mother of the girl, King exhibits the same steely determination of her character in Seven Seconds. Beale Street exudes a poignancy that builds slowly in shades of romantic love that may leave you wishing for more.



British actress Olivia Colman (wonderful in Broadchurch BBC America) received the Oscar for best Actress in a Leading Role as a disheveled, childish and mercurial queen unworthy of her crown in The Favourite. The competition was stiff, with Glenn Close (The Wife), Lady Gaga (A Star Is Born), Yalitza Aparicio (Roma), and Melissa McCarthy (Can You Ever Forgive Me?) in contention. Colman was flustered yet winsome in accepting the award. She gazed down from the stage at Glenn Close in the front row to apologize: "....you've been my idol for so long, and this is not how I wanted it to be, and I think you're amazing." As for the film, it's a wacky and frequently humorous behind-the-curtain take on the top royal and her pet people who fall in and out of favor on a whim. Sound familiar? Not my cup of British tea, but critics and others loved it to pieces.

The movie with arguably the highest decibel of hype (full page Netflix ads in newspapers and magazines) was Roma, which received Oscars for best Directing, Cinematography and Foreign Language Film. A charming Alfonso Cuaron wrote and directed the autobiographical story based on his childhood. It's told from the perspective of the live-in housekeeper and nanny, Cleo, played by Yalitza Aparicio, who provides care, affection and support for his family, especially the children. I found the depictions of daily tasks, family dinners, marital disharmony, car trips, and unexpected trauma to be authentic and dialogue spare. With little fanfare, disappointment and chaos descend upon Cleo as the family deals with their own problems. Shot in black and white, the Spanish-language film with subtitles feels like a documentary unfolding layer by layer. While it tugs at the heart, it's never quite clear where the story is headed, perhaps an intentional device that reinforces the situation of the indigenous population in Cuaron's native Mexico. He says they are cast in the shadows, but provide the backbone for so many who rely on their loyalty. The progression of the autobiographical film is so gradual that I may need to view it again to fully appreciate the director's unadorned style which reflects on family, class and culture. The critics embraced it universally as a "masterpiece."

Black Panther, BlacKkKlansman, A Star is Born and Vice were all nominated for Best Picture, but took home awards in other categories.

Costume Design, Original Score and Production Design Oscars went to Black Panther, the first superhero film to showcase an all black cast. I'm not usually the first in line for action movies but I didn't want to miss this one after reading initial reviews. It was a treat from beginning to end with lavish sets reminiscent of yesteryear movies like Ben Hur, Cleopatra and Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit. Chadwick Boseman as T'Challa and Michael B. Jordan as Erik Killmonger deliver earnest portrayals as leads in a strong cast, but it's the tribal territory of Kawanda and its people that capture the imagination. The awards were well deserved. The production is expansive in scope, with technicolor sets, exotic lands and costumes, and a musical score to match.



Spike Lee jumped into the host's arms onstage to accept an Oscar in the category of best Adapted Screenplay for BlacKkKlansman, a true story about Ron Stallworth, the first black policeman in Colorado Springs, portrayed by John David Washington. When Stallworth decides to infiltrate the local Ku Klux Klan with the help of his white colleague, Flip Zimmerman, a Jewish cop played by Adam Driver, the masquerade and tension builds. It's a hoot of a tale with lively action and an unlikely scenario. Lee and some critics expressed dismay that the picture lost the top award to Green Book, making the snub  reminiscent of 1989 when Driving Miss Daisy won and Spike Lee was overlooked for Do the Right Thing, not even a nominee. The New York Times called Klansman Lee's "best non-documentary feature in more than a decade and one of his greatest." It was thoroughly enjoyable, with characters and storyline nearly preposterous, and the journey down memory lane via the Ku Klux Klan next to unbearable.

A Star Is Born, Bradley Cooper's directorial debut in which he plays the lead with co-star Lady Gaga, took the top award for original song, "Shallow." Written by Gaga and collaborators, the soundtrack won a Grammy, Golden Globe and BAFTA in addition to the Oscar. The Academy Awards spotlighted Cooper and Gaga singing a cozy duet at a piano onstage. Their passionate performance hinted at the movie's storyline, a remake of the classic film about a has-been singer who propels an unknown artist to stardom, but can't overcome his own demons. It's a touching story with the same ending we've seen before, but it could be argued the chemistry that ignites between these two takes the remake to a whole new level. Rumor has it Clint Eastwood turned down the directing job because he felt Cooper would be better. I can't disagree given the wallop this movie carries.

Vice landed Christian Bale (The Big Short and The Fighter) a nomination but not the Oscar for best Actor in a Leading Role. However, he claimed the Golden Globe for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture. Makeup and Hairstyling was awarded the Oscar for turning Bale into a remarkable resemblance of Dick Cheney and Amy Adams (American Hustle) into a believable Lynne Cheney, perhaps her best role yet. Bale is a fascinating chameleon who always morphs into whatever physical characteristics the role demands, as he did for The Fighter and for the Cheney character, which required substantial weight gain. We witness former Vice President Dick Cheney's career from an undirected college dropout who favors booze over books and works a mediocre job until he meets Lynne, who pushes him for the rest of his life to do better. He follows her lessons and climbs up the ladder of Republican White House staff jobs to eventually land the Vice Presidency with George W. Bush. The offer is depicted in the film as a lighthearted, comical deal between the two men that ultimately leads down the road to abuses of power and morality. Part historical, biopic and farce, Vice is highly entertaining with a strong liberal gut punch.

Free Solo beat RBG for best Documentary Feature. Both were captivating but for entirely different reasons. It's fascinating but disturbing to watch champion rock climber Alex Honnold scale the 30,000-foot face of El Capitan in Yosemite, which comes at the end of this enthralling film. First, we watch Honnold undertake painstaking preparations over a period of months for multiple practice climbs, entering detailed notes on each in his journal. He pays close attention to his diet, sleep, clothing and the weather to ensure an optimal chance of reaching his goal -- the top of El Capitan without the aid of ropes and equipment. If it sounds harrowing, it is! Along the winding trail of this dream, he meets a lovely young woman whose heart resides in the wilderness as well. They set up house in Honnold's small RV camper and the relationship flourishes during the lengthy training period. His achievement is exhilarating to witness, yet I couldn't help but wonder why he'd take such a high risk that threatens his life. His mom describes a young boy who had the drive and focus to climb rocks, and others attest to his expert skills, but we're still reminded of the many who failed and met their deaths. In fact, the fear hovers in every climb the camera captures. If you're in the mood for adventure, and admire people who challenge themselves to impossible feats through the sheer power of the human spirit, this is the movie for you. If you're a tamer breed, don't skip it. Just close your eyes when it gets too scary.

RBG was nominated for best Documentary Feature but came up empty-handed. However, it's such a gem, as is the subject of the film, that IMHO it deserves recognition. As you must already know, Ruth Bader Ginsberg is a Supreme Court justice and cultural icon. What you may not know is that her Notorious RBG nickname was inspired by the rapper Biggie Small's Notorious B.I.G. nickname -- read how that happened here. The film is a romp through the life of this petite powerhouse of a woman who blazed the trail for gender equity laws in the United States (On the Basis of Sex tracks that historical triumph with Felicity Jones as a determined Ginsberg). RBG, on the other hand, follows Ginsberg through a five-star legal career and family and personal challenges, including her bouts with cancer over the years and her young husband's battle with cancer when they attended law school and had a baby at home. But it's not the health issues, rather her spunk, accomplishments and common sense talk that infuse the film with sparkle, wit and gravitas. Turning 86 on March 15, Ginsberg is a long-serving liberal on the Court. Appointed by Bill Clinton in 1993, she's gained the respect of her colleagues, especially the conservative Justice Antonin Scalia with whom she shared a close friendship until his death in 2016. Her infamous workouts, dissenting opinions on Court decisions, devotion to family and career, and the birth of RBG T-shirts and buttons make for a delightful film about a cultural icon we can all admire.