Actress Melanie Griffith has given her New York apartment a design overhaul as she adjusts to single life again following her split from Antonio Banderas. The Working Girl star, 56, filed for divorce to end the couple's 18-year marriage last month (Jun14) and she has been focusing her attentions on revamping the luxury Big Apple pad the former couple bought in 2004.
Griffith, who also shares homes in Los Angeles and Aspen, Colorado with her estranged husband, admits she loves to spend time in New York City when she can and she has been finding solace following their break-up in redecorating.
She has opened up her home, which boasts views of Central Park, for People magazine and reveals she got rid of the previous 1940s feel in favour of an Old Hollywood glamour vibe.
Her longtime friend and interior designer, Kari Whitman, says, "She loves red, so everything has a splash of red."
Griffith continues, "It's elegant and wild at the same time. It's got more pizzazz... I never thought I would be excited about decorating."
Discussing her love for the home, she explains, "For a long time we used to do Thanksgiving here because we could watch the (holiday) parade and cook everything."
The actress also keeps two bedrooms strictly for her daughters Dakota Johnson, 24, and Stella Banderas, 17, for when they visit, adding, "There's lots of family, so it's nice to have everybody come and chill out."
However, Griffith insists the pad still needs a little work: "I don't think it's completely finished yet. But it's a happy place."
The home redecoration is not the only way the star has been trying to take her mind of her broken marriage - she is also undergoing laser removal procedures to erase Banderas' name from a large heart inking on her arm.
Lions Gate via Everett Collection
When we last left our heroes, they had conquered all opponents in the 74th Annual Hunger Games, returned home to their newly refurbished living quarters in District 12, and fallen haplessly to the cannibalism of PTSD. And now we're back! Hitching our wagons once again to laconic Katniss Everdeen and her sweet-natured, just-for-the-camera boyfriend Peeta Mellark as they gear up for a second go at the Capitol's killing fields.
But hold your horses — there's a good hour and a half before we step back into the arena. However, the time spent with Katniss and Peeta before the announcement that they'll be competing again for the ceremonial Quarter Quell does not drag. In fact, it's got some of the film franchise's most interesting commentary about celebrity, reality television, and the media so far, well outweighing the merit of The Hunger Games' satire on the subject matter by having Katniss struggle with her responsibilities as Panem's idol. Does she abide by the command of status quo, delighting in the public's applause for her and keeping them complacently saturated with her smiles and curtsies? Or does Katniss hold three fingers high in opposition to the machine into which she has been thrown? It's a quarrel that the real Jennifer Lawrence would handle with a castigation of the media and a joke about sandwiches, or something... but her stakes are, admittedly, much lower. Harvey Weinstein isn't threatening to kill her secret boyfriend.
Through this chapter, Katniss also grapples with a more personal warfare: her devotion to Gale (despite her inability to commit to the idea of love) and her family, her complicated, moralistic affection for Peeta, her remorse over losing Rue, and her agonizing desire to flee the eye of the public and the Capitol. Oftentimes, Katniss' depression and guilty conscience transcends the bounds of sappy. Her soap opera scenes with a soot-covered Gale really push the limits, saved if only by the undeniable grace and charisma of star Lawrence at every step along the way of this film. So it's sappy, but never too sappy.
In fact, Catching Fire is a masterpiece of pushing limits as far as they'll extend before the point of diminishing returns. Director Francis Lawrence maintains an ambiance that lends to emotional investment but never imposes too much realism as to drip into territories of grit. All of Catching Fire lives in a dreamlike state, a stark contrast to Hunger Games' guttural, grimacing quality that robbed it of the life force Suzanne Collins pumped into her first novel.
Once we get to the thunderdome, our engines are effectively revved for the "fun part." Katniss, Peeta, and their array of allies and enemies traverse a nightmare course that seems perfectly suited for a videogame spin-off. At this point, we've spent just enough time with the secondary characters to grow a bit fond of them — deliberately obnoxious Finnick, jarringly provocative Johanna, offbeat geeks Beedee and Wiress — but not quite enough to dissolve the mystery surrounding any of them or their true intentions (which become more and more enigmatic as the film progresses). We only need adhere to Katniss and Peeta once tossed in the pit of doom that is the 75th Hunger Games arena, but finding real characters in the other tributes makes for a far more fun round of extreme manhunt.
But Catching Fire doesn't vie for anything particularly grand. It entertains and engages, having fun with and anchoring weight to its characters and circumstances, but stays within the expected confines of what a Hunger Games movie can be. It's a good one, but without shooting for succinctly interesting or surprising work with Katniss and her relationships or taking a stab at anything but the obvious in terms of sending up the militant tyrannical autocracy, it never even closes in on the possibility of being a great one.
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