When singer/songwriter Rachael Yamagata was growing up, she went to all-girls school that she says warped her into the relationship-obsessed woman she’s become, at least in the lyrics of her songs. She began singing with a funk-crazed dance band called Bumpus while she was in college studying theater. While touring and recording with Bumpus, she was also writing confessional, deeply emotional songs that didn’t fit the band’s format. Happenstance, her first solo album, was a folk/pop charmer. Her tunes have appeared on The O.C., The L Word, Grey’s Anatomy and Alias, and Ray LaMontagne, Ryan Adams and Conor Oberst all expressed admiration for her vocal style. Having just issued Chesapeake (Frankenfish), Yamagata will be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our brand new Q&A with her.
Yamagata: Under The Tuscan Sun, The Notebook, Kill Bill, Charlie’s Angels, Castaway. These are movies that for some reason just do it for me in terms of inspiration when it comes to getting back on one’s feet. Mind you I attempt them after several rounds of The Way We Were to truly let all the tears of love lost flow, followed by repeated episodes of Sex In The City and Project Runway—the first to remind me how one can triumph through several breakups and still stay optimistic, the other to remind me that, gosh darnit, I can make something if I really put my mind to it.
But back to the movies. Under The Tuscan Sun lets you be the brokenhearted one in all of its tear-stained glory—permission to be a mess if you will. Of course, it would be nice to be as sexy as Diane Lane, but hey there are a few scenes where she’s a bit rumpled so one can almost relate on a human/non-goddess level. The story is the dream: off to Italy to heal and then the house and then the fixing up of said house and then the everything falls into place life/love story. I eat it up everytime. Maybe it’s because I just learned to use a drill and can picture fixing up a house in Italy, but on the whole the basic lessons are great: Work on your house and forget about everything else. The ladybugs will come, and they always do.
The Notebook: the most perfect movie to indulge in when you don’t want to stop believing that your perfect grand love is out there and will prevail. Romance. Romance. Romance. All the way with frosting on top. Ladies, tell me you can’t quote this movie. I dare you. “We fight—that’s what we do.” Anyway, watch that and keep hope alive.
Kill Bill. I know this is a slightly strange choice, but I’m gonna put it up with Charlie’s Angels (whichever one) because all remind about the kick-ass women taking the reigns and being empowered. The physical aspect of it goes into also take-some-martial-arts–and-get-fit territory because one cannot help but be inspired by the amazon beauty wearing a banana cat suit or the three ladies looking hot and retro and doing coordinated stunts to rescue and defeat. Everytime I watch either I want to go for a run or chop down trees and such.
And, finally, Castaway. I’m a sucker for a stranded-on-an-island movie and make the choice—give up or make do with what you’ve got and get you out of an isolated situation (a.k.a. off the damn island). Here’s a guy ruled by time and protocol who gets back to basics, finds spiritual comfort in a volleyball, reconciles the beauty of lost love as a gift because he is alive everyday and loses a ton of weight in the process. Ultimately, when I’m getting through or over something, I’m hoping for the same outcome. (Replace volleyball with cats.)
Video after the jump.
