Aw Damn. After all that Karate Kid discussion (thanks for the shoutout, OMD, by the way), I totally reversed my stance and took the wards to a mall showing (complete with an awesome trip to Hot Dog On A Stick) of the film. I know, I know. No integrity.
A girl gets desperate when she is hanging out with bored kids and the temp is going to get close to 100 degrees. Have a little pity.
Anyway. It's not bad. The worst parts are actually all the nods to the original. I wish that they had just made a kung fu film with Jackie Chan and Jaden Smith and had forgotten about the fly/chopstick bit, the dead wife, the evil sensai, and the hopping at the competition. That was all the weakest stuff. (Well, that and one performance, which I will discuss further in a moment.)
The film is actually pretty beautiful to watch. I could have used even more scenes in the urban playground. (I love the ping pong dude!) The festival scene and the location training scenes are also beautiful. The highest praise I can give the film is that it made me yen to go to China myself--something that not even America's Next Top Model has been able to do.
Watching Jaden Smith is like watching a tiny version of Will Smith. They are charming in EXACTLY the same way. They move in EXACTLY the same way. It would be creepy if it were not so adorable. Also. That little kid is ripped. How does that even happen? It was impressive. (One of my wards rushed home and immediately started to do push ups with his feet up on one of the living room chairs. He also was impressed by J. Smith's awesome upper body.)
On the down side: I COULD NOT STAND the woman who played Smith's mother. Which is weird, because I really wanted to like her. But she was annoying. And she took away from every scene she was in. It was frustrating.
As I predicted, the age of the young Smith is a little bit of a problem. The romance between Smith and the freaking adorable Wenwen Han would have been more successful if they were both just a little bit older. I was also a little weirded out by the fact that Smith's character seemed significantly younger than any of his kung fu opponents. (In fact, one of them looked like he could be 20. What is a 20 year old doing trying to beat up a 12 year old?!) Listen, William Zabka was a lot bigger than the Macchio, but he didn't seem to be a whole lot older. It is a totally different scenario.
Bottom line? If you can think of this film as NOT part of the orignal franchise, you can certainly be entertained by this film.
Stay tuned for discussions about my summer obsessions: Tasty Planet, white chocolate mac nut Luna bars and audio books! (Do not judge, dear readers.)
Showing posts with label film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label film. Show all posts
12 July 2010
16 November 2009
Down a Hole
Several people have asked me to comment on this.
These are people who know that I am a minor expert on All Things Alice (no, really. it is something that I legitimately know a lot about. That is what happens when you write your undergraduate and Masters theses on the same thing. And then become a bit of a collector.) AND also a pretty big Tim Burton fan. (Although I wouldn't necessarily call myself an expert.) I think that these well-meaning people are thinking that I am excited about this film.
I am not.
Don't get me wrong. I will have to see it as soon as it comes out (March 5, 2010). But I have low, low, low expectations. It's going to be amazing looking. Burton doesn't make anything that isn't. This is why I love his films. But, generally, and boy does it pain me to say this, I would just as soon watch his films with the sound off. Because Tim Burton has NO talent for storytelling (Edward Scissorhands notwithstanding). Seriously. He ruins just about every film he makes by not being able to pace or satisfyingly conclude narratives. I don't necessarily hold this against him. He's much more interested in creating something visual than he is in storytelling.*
But I actually care about All Things Alice. And I do not need to see Burton reconceive Alice as he did Sleepy Hollow (which, again, was beautiful, but certainly made Washington Irving turn in his dark, dank, gothic-y grave).
My fears have NOT been allayed by this trailer, because if I am reading it correctly, it looks like Johnny Depp's Mad Hatter might be narrating the film. This does not bode well. First of all, the Mad Hatter is the most annoying and over-remembered character Lewis Carroll created. (The Doormouse really steals the unbirthday tea party scene, after all.) Also, I, for one, am somewhat tired of the Burton/Depp lovefest. Johnny Depp is not the best actor to play every character that Burton has ever wanted to feature. He wasn't the right choice for Willie Wonka. NOR Sweeney Todd. And certainly not Icabod Crane. (He was, certainly, the right choice for Edward Scissorhands, and was an inspired casting choice as Ed Wood.) I anticipate hating this character.
That said, the visuals will make it watchable, as will performances by Alan Rickman, Christopher Lee, Stephen Fry (! YAY ! As the Cheshire Cat!) and Crispin Freakin' Glover.
*This is actually something that a lot of my favorite directors have in common--an overriding interest in one aspect of filmmaking that leads him (usually him) to under-develop most other aspects. SO, for instance, Kevin Smith is so much more interested in dialogue than almost anything else that his movies tend to look like crap. Strangely, this does not make me like him any less.
These are people who know that I am a minor expert on All Things Alice (no, really. it is something that I legitimately know a lot about. That is what happens when you write your undergraduate and Masters theses on the same thing. And then become a bit of a collector.) AND also a pretty big Tim Burton fan. (Although I wouldn't necessarily call myself an expert.) I think that these well-meaning people are thinking that I am excited about this film.
I am not.
Don't get me wrong. I will have to see it as soon as it comes out (March 5, 2010). But I have low, low, low expectations. It's going to be amazing looking. Burton doesn't make anything that isn't. This is why I love his films. But, generally, and boy does it pain me to say this, I would just as soon watch his films with the sound off. Because Tim Burton has NO talent for storytelling (Edward Scissorhands notwithstanding). Seriously. He ruins just about every film he makes by not being able to pace or satisfyingly conclude narratives. I don't necessarily hold this against him. He's much more interested in creating something visual than he is in storytelling.*
But I actually care about All Things Alice. And I do not need to see Burton reconceive Alice as he did Sleepy Hollow (which, again, was beautiful, but certainly made Washington Irving turn in his dark, dank, gothic-y grave).
My fears have NOT been allayed by this trailer, because if I am reading it correctly, it looks like Johnny Depp's Mad Hatter might be narrating the film. This does not bode well. First of all, the Mad Hatter is the most annoying and over-remembered character Lewis Carroll created. (The Doormouse really steals the unbirthday tea party scene, after all.) Also, I, for one, am somewhat tired of the Burton/Depp lovefest. Johnny Depp is not the best actor to play every character that Burton has ever wanted to feature. He wasn't the right choice for Willie Wonka. NOR Sweeney Todd. And certainly not Icabod Crane. (He was, certainly, the right choice for Edward Scissorhands, and was an inspired casting choice as Ed Wood.) I anticipate hating this character.
That said, the visuals will make it watchable, as will performances by Alan Rickman, Christopher Lee, Stephen Fry (! YAY ! As the Cheshire Cat!) and Crispin Freakin' Glover.
*This is actually something that a lot of my favorite directors have in common--an overriding interest in one aspect of filmmaking that leads him (usually him) to under-develop most other aspects. SO, for instance, Kevin Smith is so much more interested in dialogue than almost anything else that his movies tend to look like crap. Strangely, this does not make me like him any less.
09 June 2009
"Did you see THAT?"
Lest someone should beat me to it---
On Friday night, Mikey J. encouraged me to see The Hangover with him. The motivation, for me, was not the film, which I was not AT ALL interested in. Rather, it was the opportunity of spending time with Mike, and the very real possibility that I could talk him into a drink or two after. My expectations actually sank when we got into the theatre, where we were surrounded by 110 guys in their 20s and 30s, all of whom clearly failed out of college because they were more committed to their frat houses than their relatively undemanding state school course schedules. But Mike said to stick it out. He said that this was JUST the audience we wanted to see this film with. He told me, with glee, that THIS was going to be a really funny movie.
Oh boy, was he right.
Now, before I talk about this movie, I want to make it clear that my conscience will not allow me to actually recommend this film to anyone. Instead, I can only tell you my experience of it. Make of this what you will:
I have only one other time ever had the feeling I had when I walked out of the theatre after this film. Remember Sin City? When I left that film, I felt shell shocked. I had been completely assaulted by violence. I couldn't tell you why that film seemed overwhelming violent to me (although I have a few ideas, which I would tell you over a beer, if you asked). But I remember feeling exhausted after it, and like I could NEVER see another film with any violence ever again.
I never could have thought that I could be equally assaulted by comedy. But I was. In this film.
There was a point in the film (and I won't tell you what that point was, so as to avoid any spoilers), when I started laughing uncontrollably and didn't stop until at least 5 minutes into the next scene. I thought I was going to be sick. It wasn't so much that the scene itself was so funny--it was more that so much horrible, horrible comedy had been heaped upon me up to that point that I lost it. And by "it" I mean both reason and control.
Don't get me wrong. I was completely offended. Particularly by one scene that actually involves a baby and physical humor. (You know, the lowest form of humor--Marx Bros humor. Where you watch someone get hurt and then laugh. But A BABY gets hurt. A BABY, people.) I did not laugh at his. I was shocked and amazed.
And yet.
I don't know.
It was still funny. Funnier than anything else I can remember. Funny, people.
To add insult to injury, this film actually has sort of a smart narrative structure, and a particularly pleasing gimmick ending--an ending, which, by the way, had me wondering what a film has to do these days to be given an X rating. Because, friends, this is not your parents' R-rated movie. (Thanks to you, Kevin Smith, for taking on the MPAA--twice--and helping to almost single-handedly assure that male full frontal will be de rigueur in dude comedies for the foreseeable future.)
I know that this is not a very detailed discussion, but I don't want to ruin the experience for anyone. Should anyone choose to see this film. Which I'm not recommending. But if you do, call me. We'll compare notes.
On Friday night, Mikey J. encouraged me to see The Hangover with him. The motivation, for me, was not the film, which I was not AT ALL interested in. Rather, it was the opportunity of spending time with Mike, and the very real possibility that I could talk him into a drink or two after. My expectations actually sank when we got into the theatre, where we were surrounded by 110 guys in their 20s and 30s, all of whom clearly failed out of college because they were more committed to their frat houses than their relatively undemanding state school course schedules. But Mike said to stick it out. He said that this was JUST the audience we wanted to see this film with. He told me, with glee, that THIS was going to be a really funny movie.
Oh boy, was he right.
Now, before I talk about this movie, I want to make it clear that my conscience will not allow me to actually recommend this film to anyone. Instead, I can only tell you my experience of it. Make of this what you will:
I have only one other time ever had the feeling I had when I walked out of the theatre after this film. Remember Sin City? When I left that film, I felt shell shocked. I had been completely assaulted by violence. I couldn't tell you why that film seemed overwhelming violent to me (although I have a few ideas, which I would tell you over a beer, if you asked). But I remember feeling exhausted after it, and like I could NEVER see another film with any violence ever again.
I never could have thought that I could be equally assaulted by comedy. But I was. In this film.
There was a point in the film (and I won't tell you what that point was, so as to avoid any spoilers), when I started laughing uncontrollably and didn't stop until at least 5 minutes into the next scene. I thought I was going to be sick. It wasn't so much that the scene itself was so funny--it was more that so much horrible, horrible comedy had been heaped upon me up to that point that I lost it. And by "it" I mean both reason and control.
Don't get me wrong. I was completely offended. Particularly by one scene that actually involves a baby and physical humor. (You know, the lowest form of humor--Marx Bros humor. Where you watch someone get hurt and then laugh. But A BABY gets hurt. A BABY, people.) I did not laugh at his. I was shocked and amazed.
And yet.
I don't know.
It was still funny. Funnier than anything else I can remember. Funny, people.
To add insult to injury, this film actually has sort of a smart narrative structure, and a particularly pleasing gimmick ending--an ending, which, by the way, had me wondering what a film has to do these days to be given an X rating. Because, friends, this is not your parents' R-rated movie. (Thanks to you, Kevin Smith, for taking on the MPAA--twice--and helping to almost single-handedly assure that male full frontal will be de rigueur in dude comedies for the foreseeable future.)
I know that this is not a very detailed discussion, but I don't want to ruin the experience for anyone. Should anyone choose to see this film. Which I'm not recommending. But if you do, call me. We'll compare notes.
26 May 2009
Thoughts on Star Trek
So, as is usual for me, I'm not going to be providing you with a review, per se, of Star Trek. Instead, I have a few observations about the film. I'm not going to say that there aren't any spoilers here, but I'm trying to be fairly vague, and, frankly, most of the stuff I thought was interesting is actually about fairly minor details. If you are someone who enjoys something less if you have heard anything about it--then read at your own risk.
1. I am not a big Winona Rider fan. I think that Qwanty could probably attest to that. But I thought that she looked rather lovely in the film. I do think that the decision to cast a woman who looks like she could be a Vulcan herself as the full-human mother of a half Vulcan/half human child is strange. It would have been MORE interesting if they had chosen someone more like Jennifer Morrison (who, by the way, if I have not mentioned it before, is much less pretty as a blonde. Could someone get word to her about that? It makes her look older, and harder).
2. I was VERY skeptical about the casting of Simon Pegg as Scotty. And he doesn't look ANYTHING like he could grow into Jame Doohan. But when he started talking, I was TOTALLY amazed. Because he sounded, spot on, like Scotty. I thought he was brilliant.
3. What was with the obvious nods to Top Gun? I mean, I almost expected McCoy to start calling Kirk "Maverick" and for there to be some space-volleyball scene where the Enterprise Crew plays the Romulans, set to "Playing with the Boys." And if you haven't seen the film, and you are doubting me, then just wait for the scene where Kirk rides up to the transport vehicle on his motorcycle. Seriously, it is ripped directly from TG. (Not to mention the whole flight simulation scene--c'mon!)
4. Speaking of music, I am glad to hear that in the future, kids will still want to drive fast while cranking "Sabotage"--I have long been of the opinion that this is a song best listened to, really loud, in the car.
5. I don't get why, in space movies, the ships belonging to the "bad guys" always look like a crack den in space. Seriously. Am I really to believe that the Romulans are cruising around in space in a ship that has bad lighting, a sewer system running through it, and no discernible living or recreation quarters?
Evaluation: This was a much more entertaining film than I expected. I thought it was REALLY, REALLY funny and smart, and I was almost universally pleased with the casting and the acting. I am not a huge fan of the franchise, but I have seen all of the episodes of the original series, and probably most of the episodes of The Next Generation (Which was quite popular when I was in college). And we saw the films as kids. But I, admittedly, didn't walk into this film with any kind of expectations about the plot content. With all that said, I did have one critical question nagging me while I watched the film. (And I should add that previews for both the GI Joe film and Transformers II sort of put me in the frame of mind to think about this:)
Critical Question: As I was watching this film, I couldn't help but wonder what the deal is with origins films? Although the casting was REALLY good (in general) for this film, it does seem like a tremendous risk to go back in time with a narrative and have to cast the original characters with younger actors. There are so many ways that that can go badly. There are also ways in which it is very dangerous to have actors trying to recreate roles which are now culturally iconic. Why is there an impulse to go back in time, instead of going forward? As I hope I've intimated, this seems to have worked here, but I wonder why no one has learned the lesson from the second Star Wars trilogy? Are American audiences so lacking in imagination that we have to be fed the same story and group of characters over and over? Certainly this seems to be the attitude of Hollywood, who wants to give us origin films, remakes of television shows and films (Land of the F'ing Lost? Who thought THAT needed a film at this point in time?), and sequels.
I also saw the new Jarmusch film The Limits of Control this weekend. I want to write about that too, but I'm still gathering my thoughts. But here is a film that treats its viewers with a great deal of respect--that assumes that we can deal with silence, subtitles, complexity, ambiguity, new characters and situations, a slower pace. As much as I enjoyed the experience of seeing ST, it does make me a little sad to think about the new art and entertainment that isn't produced.
1. I am not a big Winona Rider fan. I think that Qwanty could probably attest to that. But I thought that she looked rather lovely in the film. I do think that the decision to cast a woman who looks like she could be a Vulcan herself as the full-human mother of a half Vulcan/half human child is strange. It would have been MORE interesting if they had chosen someone more like Jennifer Morrison (who, by the way, if I have not mentioned it before, is much less pretty as a blonde. Could someone get word to her about that? It makes her look older, and harder).
2. I was VERY skeptical about the casting of Simon Pegg as Scotty. And he doesn't look ANYTHING like he could grow into Jame Doohan. But when he started talking, I was TOTALLY amazed. Because he sounded, spot on, like Scotty. I thought he was brilliant.
3. What was with the obvious nods to Top Gun? I mean, I almost expected McCoy to start calling Kirk "Maverick" and for there to be some space-volleyball scene where the Enterprise Crew plays the Romulans, set to "Playing with the Boys." And if you haven't seen the film, and you are doubting me, then just wait for the scene where Kirk rides up to the transport vehicle on his motorcycle. Seriously, it is ripped directly from TG. (Not to mention the whole flight simulation scene--c'mon!)
4. Speaking of music, I am glad to hear that in the future, kids will still want to drive fast while cranking "Sabotage"--I have long been of the opinion that this is a song best listened to, really loud, in the car.
5. I don't get why, in space movies, the ships belonging to the "bad guys" always look like a crack den in space. Seriously. Am I really to believe that the Romulans are cruising around in space in a ship that has bad lighting, a sewer system running through it, and no discernible living or recreation quarters?
Evaluation: This was a much more entertaining film than I expected. I thought it was REALLY, REALLY funny and smart, and I was almost universally pleased with the casting and the acting. I am not a huge fan of the franchise, but I have seen all of the episodes of the original series, and probably most of the episodes of The Next Generation (Which was quite popular when I was in college). And we saw the films as kids. But I, admittedly, didn't walk into this film with any kind of expectations about the plot content. With all that said, I did have one critical question nagging me while I watched the film. (And I should add that previews for both the GI Joe film and Transformers II sort of put me in the frame of mind to think about this:)
Critical Question: As I was watching this film, I couldn't help but wonder what the deal is with origins films? Although the casting was REALLY good (in general) for this film, it does seem like a tremendous risk to go back in time with a narrative and have to cast the original characters with younger actors. There are so many ways that that can go badly. There are also ways in which it is very dangerous to have actors trying to recreate roles which are now culturally iconic. Why is there an impulse to go back in time, instead of going forward? As I hope I've intimated, this seems to have worked here, but I wonder why no one has learned the lesson from the second Star Wars trilogy? Are American audiences so lacking in imagination that we have to be fed the same story and group of characters over and over? Certainly this seems to be the attitude of Hollywood, who wants to give us origin films, remakes of television shows and films (Land of the F'ing Lost? Who thought THAT needed a film at this point in time?), and sequels.
I also saw the new Jarmusch film The Limits of Control this weekend. I want to write about that too, but I'm still gathering my thoughts. But here is a film that treats its viewers with a great deal of respect--that assumes that we can deal with silence, subtitles, complexity, ambiguity, new characters and situations, a slower pace. As much as I enjoyed the experience of seeing ST, it does make me a little sad to think about the new art and entertainment that isn't produced.
06 May 2009
How Did I Not Know About THIS?
Alright. I'm losing whatever claim I ever had to being a cognoscenti. Clearly.
While listening to the Rick Emerson show this morning on my way to work, I heard a discussion of this.
Um. I was JUST in Bend over the weekend. No way now that I can't be one of those lookie-loos [by the way, I can't quite figure out how to spell that term correctly] that goes to take a look at this trainwreck.
Emerson's take on it is that THIS is exactly why Oregon is so weird. Maybe.
It also reminds me of this story that I've been telling a lot lately that seems to relate to a lot of what is going on in the world around us.
A few years ago I went to the Alamo (for those of you non-Austinites, the theatre--not the actual monument) with my cousin to see David Schmader do his now legendary commentary of Showgirls. David Schmader's whole perspective on the film can be boiled down to this: what is amazing about the film is that there are SO many people involved in the making of a movie with that kind of history and budget. And not ONE of those people, at any level of involvement, at any stage of the process said, "wow. This is a truly awful, awful film. We really shouldn't make it." It passed through hand after hand after hand, and it was STILL unleashed on world audiences. How can it be that not one person (and not everyone involved can be a complete idiot or totally crazy. That is just statistically improbable.) showed any sort of common sense at all?
It's that completely profound? Think of all the things around us that are examples of the Showgirls phenomenon: the reality shows on Vh1, the Pinto, the US involvement with the Contras, New Coke, the credit crisis. I mean, there are Showgirls (and Bend Shires) all around us.
While listening to the Rick Emerson show this morning on my way to work, I heard a discussion of this.
Um. I was JUST in Bend over the weekend. No way now that I can't be one of those lookie-loos [by the way, I can't quite figure out how to spell that term correctly] that goes to take a look at this trainwreck.
Emerson's take on it is that THIS is exactly why Oregon is so weird. Maybe.
It also reminds me of this story that I've been telling a lot lately that seems to relate to a lot of what is going on in the world around us.
A few years ago I went to the Alamo (for those of you non-Austinites, the theatre--not the actual monument) with my cousin to see David Schmader do his now legendary commentary of Showgirls. David Schmader's whole perspective on the film can be boiled down to this: what is amazing about the film is that there are SO many people involved in the making of a movie with that kind of history and budget. And not ONE of those people, at any level of involvement, at any stage of the process said, "wow. This is a truly awful, awful film. We really shouldn't make it." It passed through hand after hand after hand, and it was STILL unleashed on world audiences. How can it be that not one person (and not everyone involved can be a complete idiot or totally crazy. That is just statistically improbable.) showed any sort of common sense at all?
It's that completely profound? Think of all the things around us that are examples of the Showgirls phenomenon: the reality shows on Vh1, the Pinto, the US involvement with the Contras, New Coke, the credit crisis. I mean, there are Showgirls (and Bend Shires) all around us.
30 March 2009
Quick Thoughts
Make of them what you will:
1. My current favorite song is the acoustic version of "Overkill" by Men at Work (actually, originally by Men at Work. This version just by the lead singer guy, Colin Hay.). I'm listening to it on repeat over and over. I think it might be brilliant, but I'm not sure what it is supposed to be about. What I get from it is that it is a discussion of thinking about something (I think a relationship) obsessively. And Colin Hay has a totally beautiful, weird voice. This song was also randomly part of a Scrubs episode from a couple of years ago. Listen to it. Or wait until January--this one will end up on my 2009 year-end mix.
2. In the midst of all the exciting things in my life (?), I totally forgot that Tricky was performing in town on Friday night, and I didn't get tickets, and I didn't go. I'm sort of sad about this. On the other hand, my experience with Tricky shows is kind of like that fairy tale in which the girl puts on those shoes and can't stop dancing and dances right to her death. Or like the Pied Piper leading all the children out of Hamlin. It's hypnotic. And I'm not easily suggestible.
3. I went and saw I Love You, Man today. It was disappointing, which is saying something, because I had super low expectations. What I realized is that I don't want to watch Paul Rudd play some milquetoast straightman for 2 hours. Paul Rudd without edge is just pretty. That is not enough, particularly when I know the edge is there to be had. Also, it is weirdly a romantic comedy, and that is, hands down, my least favorite genre of film. Yuk. I will say this though--I find humor centered on Rush fairly effective, as well as any running gag in which someone tries to do impressions/accents and always sounds the same. I do not, however, find Lou Ferringo humor funny in the least.
4. I am really angry that I am going to be forced to watch that X-Men Wolverine Origins nonsense film. I don't like comic-films (second least favorite film genre--after romantic comedies), but Liev Schreiber I love. And he's going to be all cat-like. So I have to see it, but I don't have to like the fact that I have to see it.
5. The Space Room is not the same since the smoking ban. It still has the best jukebox, cheapest drinks, and most accurate day-glo wall mural of the Portland skyline in town, but it isn't the same. How am I going to remember that I was even there in the morning if I can't smell the sin in my hair when I wake up?
1. My current favorite song is the acoustic version of "Overkill" by Men at Work (actually, originally by Men at Work. This version just by the lead singer guy, Colin Hay.). I'm listening to it on repeat over and over. I think it might be brilliant, but I'm not sure what it is supposed to be about. What I get from it is that it is a discussion of thinking about something (I think a relationship) obsessively. And Colin Hay has a totally beautiful, weird voice. This song was also randomly part of a Scrubs episode from a couple of years ago. Listen to it. Or wait until January--this one will end up on my 2009 year-end mix.
2. In the midst of all the exciting things in my life (?), I totally forgot that Tricky was performing in town on Friday night, and I didn't get tickets, and I didn't go. I'm sort of sad about this. On the other hand, my experience with Tricky shows is kind of like that fairy tale in which the girl puts on those shoes and can't stop dancing and dances right to her death. Or like the Pied Piper leading all the children out of Hamlin. It's hypnotic. And I'm not easily suggestible.
3. I went and saw I Love You, Man today. It was disappointing, which is saying something, because I had super low expectations. What I realized is that I don't want to watch Paul Rudd play some milquetoast straightman for 2 hours. Paul Rudd without edge is just pretty. That is not enough, particularly when I know the edge is there to be had. Also, it is weirdly a romantic comedy, and that is, hands down, my least favorite genre of film. Yuk. I will say this though--I find humor centered on Rush fairly effective, as well as any running gag in which someone tries to do impressions/accents and always sounds the same. I do not, however, find Lou Ferringo humor funny in the least.
4. I am really angry that I am going to be forced to watch that X-Men Wolverine Origins nonsense film. I don't like comic-films (second least favorite film genre--after romantic comedies), but Liev Schreiber I love. And he's going to be all cat-like. So I have to see it, but I don't have to like the fact that I have to see it.
5. The Space Room is not the same since the smoking ban. It still has the best jukebox, cheapest drinks, and most accurate day-glo wall mural of the Portland skyline in town, but it isn't the same. How am I going to remember that I was even there in the morning if I can't smell the sin in my hair when I wake up?
13 March 2009
Thoughts for Today
1. With the rather unexpected news that Mike Bellotti is stepping into his new role as AD at University of Oregon sooner rather than later, the big question everyone is asking is this: will Bellotti's first piece of business be to fire basketball coach Ernie Kent? The consensus before this announcement today seemed to be that Bellotti would wait until after current AD Pat Kilkenny had made a decision about the future of Oregon's men's basketball. This is an especially important time in the history of that program, given the fact that construction is starting on the new Phil Knight-sponsored arena. (It sounds like it is going to be an amazing facility.) Anyway--it will be an interesting situation to watch unfold. Everyone seems excited about new football coach Chip Kelly, who has been a fairly successful offensive coordinator, but who has never been a college-level head coach.
2. I was at Borders this morning in the 'Couve and I saw one of the strangest pieces of marketing. They had a feature table that was full of manga. OK, not weird in and of itself. BUT, the table was also laden with Japanese candy and boxes of Pocky! Now don't get me wrong, I love me some Pocky. But I don't think of Borders as my main Pocky outlet. It kinda freaked me out. Also, did you know that Pocky dipped in DARK chocolate is called (I kid you not) "Man's Pocky." Um. Why? The ladies can't handle dark chocolate? That is certainly not true.
3. I am confused. Am I supposed to LOVE Russell Brand, or HATE him? I don't think that trying to answer this question should send me into existential crisis, yet it almost does . . .
4. For the record, I think that it is totally weird that Anthony LaPaglia is in So I Married an Ax Murderer. How do you go from that to Murder One to Without a Trace? And how does Lantana fit into that trajectory?
2. I was at Borders this morning in the 'Couve and I saw one of the strangest pieces of marketing. They had a feature table that was full of manga. OK, not weird in and of itself. BUT, the table was also laden with Japanese candy and boxes of Pocky! Now don't get me wrong, I love me some Pocky. But I don't think of Borders as my main Pocky outlet. It kinda freaked me out. Also, did you know that Pocky dipped in DARK chocolate is called (I kid you not) "Man's Pocky." Um. Why? The ladies can't handle dark chocolate? That is certainly not true.
3. I am confused. Am I supposed to LOVE Russell Brand, or HATE him? I don't think that trying to answer this question should send me into existential crisis, yet it almost does . . .
4. For the record, I think that it is totally weird that Anthony LaPaglia is in So I Married an Ax Murderer. How do you go from that to Murder One to Without a Trace? And how does Lantana fit into that trajectory?
02 February 2009
Crazy und Crazier
Saturday night I accompanied Mikey J to view the Werner Herzog film My Best Fiend, about Herzog's relationship with Klaus Kinski. I should say, first off, that I have only seen a couple of Herzog films, and Nosferatu was the only thing that I'd ever seen Kinski in. (Although, for the record, Kinski's vampire is, by far, the greatest portrayal of a bloodsucker ever. He is so sad, so lonely, so awkward. Edward Cullen should have skipped all the LONG explanations to Bella about the sacrifices of eternal life and should have just rented Nosferatu. Then maybe the 2000 pages of the Twilight series could have been slimmed down to more like 500.)
But here's the thing--you don't have to know ANYTHING about Kinski, or about Herzog, to watch this film. You just have to love crazy people. And watching crazy people tell stories. And seeing crazy people freak out and yell "lick my ass" when they are not happy with the offerings of craft services. And it helps if you find any of the following entertaining: 1) German understatement 2) nihilistic descriptions of nature 3) possible animal abuse 4) extreme examples of egomania. It turns out, by the way, that I find all of these things amusing.
Herzog is a confounding fellow. I'm not sure that I believe ANY of the stories he tells in the course of the film. And yet, I'm not sure that I believe that HE doesn't believe those stories. He is a man who always seems completely un-ironic, while also appearing completely insincere. How can that be? I am tempted to chalk it up to German-ness, but I'm not sure that my sense of German-ness is not based (almost entirely) on a ridiculously exaggerated caricature. And by that, of course, I mean Mike Meyers's Dieter. So I'm not sure what to think about Herzog. Nor about Kinski.
The greatest mystery of all is WHY IN THE WORLD Herzog made this film. Mikey suggested that he made it because he was tired of answering the question, "what was it like to work with Klaus Kinski?" Maybe. But I'm not convinced that I really understand what it was like to work with Kinski after seeing the film. Herzog does interview a couple of other people who knew and worked with Kinski, but since these interviews are conducted and edited by Herzog, they serve mostly to support Herzog's own interpretation of events, rather than to flesh out the man.
But this isn't really a criticism. And the confusion inherent in the film should not be a deterrent to seeing it. You all should see it. You'll like it. If nothing else, the film offers a surprising suggestion about how to quickly silence a raving maniac. The technique involves chocolate. Go figure.
But here's the thing--you don't have to know ANYTHING about Kinski, or about Herzog, to watch this film. You just have to love crazy people. And watching crazy people tell stories. And seeing crazy people freak out and yell "lick my ass" when they are not happy with the offerings of craft services. And it helps if you find any of the following entertaining: 1) German understatement 2) nihilistic descriptions of nature 3) possible animal abuse 4) extreme examples of egomania. It turns out, by the way, that I find all of these things amusing.
Herzog is a confounding fellow. I'm not sure that I believe ANY of the stories he tells in the course of the film. And yet, I'm not sure that I believe that HE doesn't believe those stories. He is a man who always seems completely un-ironic, while also appearing completely insincere. How can that be? I am tempted to chalk it up to German-ness, but I'm not sure that my sense of German-ness is not based (almost entirely) on a ridiculously exaggerated caricature. And by that, of course, I mean Mike Meyers's Dieter. So I'm not sure what to think about Herzog. Nor about Kinski.
The greatest mystery of all is WHY IN THE WORLD Herzog made this film. Mikey suggested that he made it because he was tired of answering the question, "what was it like to work with Klaus Kinski?" Maybe. But I'm not convinced that I really understand what it was like to work with Kinski after seeing the film. Herzog does interview a couple of other people who knew and worked with Kinski, but since these interviews are conducted and edited by Herzog, they serve mostly to support Herzog's own interpretation of events, rather than to flesh out the man.
But this isn't really a criticism. And the confusion inherent in the film should not be a deterrent to seeing it. You all should see it. You'll like it. If nothing else, the film offers a surprising suggestion about how to quickly silence a raving maniac. The technique involves chocolate. Go figure.
01 December 2008
Thanksgiving Films
OK, so last week the time off afforded me the opportunity to see 2 movies. I made one really good choice, and one really bad one. Actually, I didn't make the first choice (since it was Mikey J's idea), so I really just ultimately chose badly.
Zack and Miri was the good choice (credited to Mikey J). It is a very, very funny movie. We both laughed a lot. Since I know you people do not care enough to read a long review, just let me make the following observations:
1. Jason Mewes is a babe. I didn't just start thinking this. I have always even thought that Jay was really hot (which is weird, cuz that guy would NOT be my type in real life. AT ALL). But I swear that he's actually getting better looking as he gets older.
I don't like to think too much about what is behind my attraction to Jason Mewes, because, if I am honest with myself, it is for all the kinds of reasons that reflect badly on my gender. He is really screwed up. His characters are really screwed up, but Mewes himself is also really screwed up. He is also, from all accounts, a dog (with regard to his dealings with women). But, and this is where I sort of start to hate myself, he seems super, super vulnerable. It is my understanding that he lives with Kevin Smith more than he lives anywhere else--because he needs to be watched over a little, and Smith and his wife provide some sort of stability for him. The point is this--it is that mixture of bad boy/vulnerable boy that makes him sort of irresistible. I know that this is messed up thinking, and part of the reason that we don't have a woman in the White House (because, let's be honest, Bill is an older, puffier, better-educated, Southern Jason Mewes).
All rationalization aside, Jason Mewes is hot.
2. We are getting really old. It is hard to tell from looking in the mirror, but seeing certain other people age makes it impossible to deny. Traci Lords looks OLD. Part of it is hard livin'--I get that. But it still made me feel old.
3. This film requires me to write a sentence that I never expected/wanted to. That sentence is: "Justin Long is a great comedic actor." Seriously. His character is--by far--one of the funniest things in the film. Seth Rogan's reactions to him are equally priceless.
4. It is very, very strange, but also very, very pleasing, when Seth Rogan opens his mouth and Kevin Smith comes out. It's almost too much of a good thing, if you know what I mean.
5. I love Kevin Smith THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS much. I don't care how many unwatchable films he makes. When he makes a good film, I just love him THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS much more.
Zack and Miri was the good choice (credited to Mikey J). It is a very, very funny movie. We both laughed a lot. Since I know you people do not care enough to read a long review, just let me make the following observations:
1. Jason Mewes is a babe. I didn't just start thinking this. I have always even thought that Jay was really hot (which is weird, cuz that guy would NOT be my type in real life. AT ALL). But I swear that he's actually getting better looking as he gets older.
I don't like to think too much about what is behind my attraction to Jason Mewes, because, if I am honest with myself, it is for all the kinds of reasons that reflect badly on my gender. He is really screwed up. His characters are really screwed up, but Mewes himself is also really screwed up. He is also, from all accounts, a dog (with regard to his dealings with women). But, and this is where I sort of start to hate myself, he seems super, super vulnerable. It is my understanding that he lives with Kevin Smith more than he lives anywhere else--because he needs to be watched over a little, and Smith and his wife provide some sort of stability for him. The point is this--it is that mixture of bad boy/vulnerable boy that makes him sort of irresistible. I know that this is messed up thinking, and part of the reason that we don't have a woman in the White House (because, let's be honest, Bill is an older, puffier, better-educated, Southern Jason Mewes).
All rationalization aside, Jason Mewes is hot.
2. We are getting really old. It is hard to tell from looking in the mirror, but seeing certain other people age makes it impossible to deny. Traci Lords looks OLD. Part of it is hard livin'--I get that. But it still made me feel old.
3. This film requires me to write a sentence that I never expected/wanted to. That sentence is: "Justin Long is a great comedic actor." Seriously. His character is--by far--one of the funniest things in the film. Seth Rogan's reactions to him are equally priceless.
4. It is very, very strange, but also very, very pleasing, when Seth Rogan opens his mouth and Kevin Smith comes out. It's almost too much of a good thing, if you know what I mean.
5. I love Kevin Smith THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS much. I don't care how many unwatchable films he makes. When he makes a good film, I just love him THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS much more.
***
And then I saw the new Charlie Kaufman film Synecdoche, New York. I should not have done this. I always WANT to like Charlie Kaufman films, both because I sort of believe it is a thing-to-do, but also because, in theory, I like the idea of Kaufman. But in reality, I always either end up mildly disappointed (Being John Malkovich) or downright horrified (Eternal Sunshine*). S, NY is a horrifying movie. If you haven't seen the press, here is the story in a nutshell. Philip Seymour Hoffman plays a theatre director who decides to stage an epic piece of avant-garde theatre after his wife leaves him and he receives a MacArthur genius grant. The idea of the theatre piece is to recreate reality--and to that end he casts someone as himself, and as the people (women) in his life and makes art until it kills him (and everyone around him). This takes a very, very long time. Long enough that I seriously considered walking out of the film, and long enough that 3 (smarter) couples actually DID.
Here's the thing. The idea behind the film is cool. The casting is interesting (except for Catherine Keener. I hate her. What is everyone's thing with her anyway?) and Hoffman is really, really wonderful, which is weird, given the fact that I hated his character so much that I wanted him to die, die, die (and the faster the better). Kaufman is smart, and he tries to make smart movies. But I can't stand them.
And I think that I've figured it out. Kaufman is a smart guy who is tortured by the kind of thoughts and the kind of knowledge that smart people are always tortured by. He's aware, self-conscious, thoughtful. And, like people who are these things tend to be, he is miserable because of it. His films are all about the pain of feeling and thinking deeply, about the tedium of obsessive thinking, about the hopelessness of insight.
I don't think I'm as smart as Charlie Kaufman, but I am familiar enough with the challenges of having a critical mind that I don't want to relive it in my art. The cyclical, obsessive thinking of Kaufman's characters only serves to irritate (and perhaps even trigger) my own cyclical, obsessive thinking. This is not therapeutic, nor does it offer any sort of escape. It is an irritant.
Imagine that you are walking around all day with a blister. Worse yet, it is a blister that you have had since you began walking at 11 months. You spend most of your days trying to manage the blister. You baby it--rotate your foot as you walk so as not to aggravate it. You think about ANYTHING other than how much your blister is bothering you. And then once every few years you walk by a store that sells pebbles. And you think to yourself, "I like the look of those pebbles", so you walk in and buy yourself one and then stick it down your shoe. Now you have a pebble in your shoe (and YOU put it there). With every step, you are reminded of the pain you are currently in, the pain that you are ALWAYS in (because even without the pebble you have that damn blister), and the fact that you are to blame for the increased pain you are feeling, because you bought the pebble and stuck it in your shoe.
That's what it feels like to sit through a Charlie Kaufman film.
*I don't get what people LOVE about this movie, by the way. It's nightmarish.
Here's the thing. The idea behind the film is cool. The casting is interesting (except for Catherine Keener. I hate her. What is everyone's thing with her anyway?) and Hoffman is really, really wonderful, which is weird, given the fact that I hated his character so much that I wanted him to die, die, die (and the faster the better). Kaufman is smart, and he tries to make smart movies. But I can't stand them.
And I think that I've figured it out. Kaufman is a smart guy who is tortured by the kind of thoughts and the kind of knowledge that smart people are always tortured by. He's aware, self-conscious, thoughtful. And, like people who are these things tend to be, he is miserable because of it. His films are all about the pain of feeling and thinking deeply, about the tedium of obsessive thinking, about the hopelessness of insight.
I don't think I'm as smart as Charlie Kaufman, but I am familiar enough with the challenges of having a critical mind that I don't want to relive it in my art. The cyclical, obsessive thinking of Kaufman's characters only serves to irritate (and perhaps even trigger) my own cyclical, obsessive thinking. This is not therapeutic, nor does it offer any sort of escape. It is an irritant.
Imagine that you are walking around all day with a blister. Worse yet, it is a blister that you have had since you began walking at 11 months. You spend most of your days trying to manage the blister. You baby it--rotate your foot as you walk so as not to aggravate it. You think about ANYTHING other than how much your blister is bothering you. And then once every few years you walk by a store that sells pebbles. And you think to yourself, "I like the look of those pebbles", so you walk in and buy yourself one and then stick it down your shoe. Now you have a pebble in your shoe (and YOU put it there). With every step, you are reminded of the pain you are currently in, the pain that you are ALWAYS in (because even without the pebble you have that damn blister), and the fact that you are to blame for the increased pain you are feeling, because you bought the pebble and stuck it in your shoe.
That's what it feels like to sit through a Charlie Kaufman film.
*I don't get what people LOVE about this movie, by the way. It's nightmarish.
25 November 2008
I'm Not Mean, or, a Considered Twilight Review
Friends, I tread lightly. This is not going to be a no-holds barred review of the new Twilight film. Which, for the record, I wasn't crazy about. Instead, I am going to try to stick to some general comments about the interesting conditions that surround the film and would have made it hard to produce a film that was somehow more satisfactory to me. I will try not to give away any spoilers, and I will try REALLY hard not to do further damage to my friendship with J-Bro.
First, some context. I went to see Twilight Friday night with my 13-year-old cousin, who was so excited that she could hardly contain herself. We would have gone to one of the midnight shows on Thursday, but she had that whole pesky middle-school thing going on Friday morning, so we waited. We went to the last show of the evening, which took place in a 300 seat theatre that was only about a third full. Most of the audience consisted of women between the ages of 20 and 40. There were a few teenagers--but ones clearly old enough to have driven themselves. There were also a couple of boyfriends, and maybe a gay-best-friend or two as well. There was one awesome 30-something guy flying solo as well--clearly he has nothing better to do on Friday nights until The Hobbit finally comes out. I had to admire his moxy.
For the record, I have read the first three books of the series. Scratch that. I've read books 2 and 3. I listened to the first one on CD driving through Utah and Idaho this summer. (It seemed somehow fitting to listen to a story about Mormon vampires living in the PacNW while driving through Mormon country on the WAY to the PacNW!) I don't love these books. But I see the appeal and I don't, ultimately, find it surprising that they have really struck a nerve.
Now--the film itself. Although Stephenie Meyer says that she could see each of the books cinematically as she wrote, upon watching the film, it occurred to me that there are sort of insurmountable problems attached to the translation of this written text to film. This is interesting. And so I'm going to talk about this, instead of talking about the aspects of the film that I did not like that are going to get me into trouble with a friend I actually really respect and value.
1. The Jane Eyre Conundrum. Historically one of the problems of illustrating, staging, or filming Jane Eyre is Jane's own description of her physical self. If we are to believe her, Jane is, literally, a "plain Jane". Throughout the text she refers to herself as unexceptional looking, and compares her looks unfavorably to those of other women. There is a critical tradition that suggests that Jane is an unreliable narrator and that her description of herself might be based on a distorted image formed by childhood trauma. Whatever. The practical result of this is that it confronts artists/directors with a dilemma, given that Jane is the heroine (and lead character) of her own story: represent her visually as she describes herself (not very pretty), or make a conventional choice by casting (or otherwise representing) her as the most attractive woman in the production. One decision is clearly more in keeping with the spirit of Jane's narrative, the other is more likely to please audiences who like seeing love stories featuring attractive characters.
The director of Twilight faces the same choice. Bella also does not describe herself as a particularly attractive girl. And despite her popularity with the other guys at Forks High School (which can easily and plausibly be explained by the fact that she is an outsider in a place that doesn't often get transfusions--excuse the pun--of new blood in the student body population), readers do not necessarily have a reason to doubt her assessment of her own attractiveness. (Evidence for this--she was not nearly as popular in AZ as she is in WA--a fact made abundantly clear by her lack of experience with boys, love, etc.) While I do not think much of her acting, I do believe that Kristen Stewart is a much-better-than-average looking girl. This is a particularly a problem because of the next hurdle:
2. The Un-humanly Attractive Conundrum: In the fictional world that Meyer has created, one of the natural endowments of Mormon vampires is that they are unnaturally attractive. More attractive than a normal human. This is a difficulty on screen because Mormon vampires are, unfortunately, played by normal human actors. This was a concern in casting, apparently, because the casting of Edward Cullen took the consideration of 1000 actors. Unfortunately, Robert Pattinson is not un-humanly attractive (I don't care HOW attractive you might THINK he is--he doesn't look like a god). Nor are any of the other actors/actresses playing vampires in this film. Worse yet, they are not necessarily more attractive than Stewart herself. Especially troubling is the casting of Nikki Reed as Rosalie Hale. Reed is not stunningly beautiful, perhaps not even more beautiful than Stewart herself. This makes the awe of the student population of Forks HS and Bella's intimidation much less believable on screen than in the novels.
3. The Perils of First Person Narrative: Twilight, the book, is narrated in the first person by Bella herself. This is important for many reasons, not the least of which is that she controls the perspective and tone of the narrative. Bella is a detached, disaffected, emotionally flat character. As annoying as I have sometimes found this as I have read the novels, I realize after seeing the movie that her voice is essential to the consistency and success of the tone. The books seem very, very serious to me. There is a feeling of dread, danger, and melancholy that is pervasive throughout the series--which I think accounts for much of the romantic tension between Bella and Edward. It is one of the few things that makes Edward, or Bella's unhealthy obsession with him, remotely believable.
While screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg has given a nod to Bella's narration with some strategically placed voiceover, the camera (and director) necessarily becomes the narrator of this story when it is translated to film. Through the camera lens the perspective widens and the audience sees that Bella's world contains a far more wide-ranging emotional landscape than the novel suggests. The humor in the first half of the film (almost all of which emanates from Bella's peer group at school) is a result of the fact that the camera captures the reality of a high school experience that Bella herself cannot convey because she is either self-absorbed (in the first part of the novel), or preoccupied with Edward (in the second half). This myopic picture of Bella's world is actually more conducive to the suspension of disbelief because the dark and weighty tone allows the reader to enter a world in which eternal love and noble vampires might exist. The injection of "reality" provided by the perspective of the camera only serves to remind the viewer that Edward and his kind (not to mention the all-consuming, yet virginal, passion between Edward and Bella) cannot possibly exist in our world.
These were jarring problems for me, and made it impossible for me to fully enjoy or get lost in this film (something which, in the most ideal of circumstances, is not easy for me to do).
There is one element I'd like to praise the film for though. I did not even realize myself how specifically I had pictured the setting of the story. This probably should not be so surprising, given the fact that it is one of those rare narratives that takes place in my backyard. But I was pleased that so much of the background of the film looked exactly like I had imagined (with only one notable exception). They did get the feel of the NW--particularly the more rural NW--down beautifully. And there are a couple of stunningly beautiful (dark and rainy!) shots of Multnomah Falls.
Ultimately none of my thoughts about the film matter much, since, as J-Bro has commented, I wasn't the audience for this film in the first place. The people it was produced for--my teenage cousin and Jamie, who is a self-professed fangirl--loved it. Fair enough. Truly satisfying things in this world are few and far between--I'm glad that they loved it.
See. Not mean.
First, some context. I went to see Twilight Friday night with my 13-year-old cousin, who was so excited that she could hardly contain herself. We would have gone to one of the midnight shows on Thursday, but she had that whole pesky middle-school thing going on Friday morning, so we waited. We went to the last show of the evening, which took place in a 300 seat theatre that was only about a third full. Most of the audience consisted of women between the ages of 20 and 40. There were a few teenagers--but ones clearly old enough to have driven themselves. There were also a couple of boyfriends, and maybe a gay-best-friend or two as well. There was one awesome 30-something guy flying solo as well--clearly he has nothing better to do on Friday nights until The Hobbit finally comes out. I had to admire his moxy.
For the record, I have read the first three books of the series. Scratch that. I've read books 2 and 3. I listened to the first one on CD driving through Utah and Idaho this summer. (It seemed somehow fitting to listen to a story about Mormon vampires living in the PacNW while driving through Mormon country on the WAY to the PacNW!) I don't love these books. But I see the appeal and I don't, ultimately, find it surprising that they have really struck a nerve.
Now--the film itself. Although Stephenie Meyer says that she could see each of the books cinematically as she wrote, upon watching the film, it occurred to me that there are sort of insurmountable problems attached to the translation of this written text to film. This is interesting. And so I'm going to talk about this, instead of talking about the aspects of the film that I did not like that are going to get me into trouble with a friend I actually really respect and value.
1. The Jane Eyre Conundrum. Historically one of the problems of illustrating, staging, or filming Jane Eyre is Jane's own description of her physical self. If we are to believe her, Jane is, literally, a "plain Jane". Throughout the text she refers to herself as unexceptional looking, and compares her looks unfavorably to those of other women. There is a critical tradition that suggests that Jane is an unreliable narrator and that her description of herself might be based on a distorted image formed by childhood trauma. Whatever. The practical result of this is that it confronts artists/directors with a dilemma, given that Jane is the heroine (and lead character) of her own story: represent her visually as she describes herself (not very pretty), or make a conventional choice by casting (or otherwise representing) her as the most attractive woman in the production. One decision is clearly more in keeping with the spirit of Jane's narrative, the other is more likely to please audiences who like seeing love stories featuring attractive characters.
The director of Twilight faces the same choice. Bella also does not describe herself as a particularly attractive girl. And despite her popularity with the other guys at Forks High School (which can easily and plausibly be explained by the fact that she is an outsider in a place that doesn't often get transfusions--excuse the pun--of new blood in the student body population), readers do not necessarily have a reason to doubt her assessment of her own attractiveness. (Evidence for this--she was not nearly as popular in AZ as she is in WA--a fact made abundantly clear by her lack of experience with boys, love, etc.) While I do not think much of her acting, I do believe that Kristen Stewart is a much-better-than-average looking girl. This is a particularly a problem because of the next hurdle:
2. The Un-humanly Attractive Conundrum: In the fictional world that Meyer has created, one of the natural endowments of Mormon vampires is that they are unnaturally attractive. More attractive than a normal human. This is a difficulty on screen because Mormon vampires are, unfortunately, played by normal human actors. This was a concern in casting, apparently, because the casting of Edward Cullen took the consideration of 1000 actors. Unfortunately, Robert Pattinson is not un-humanly attractive (I don't care HOW attractive you might THINK he is--he doesn't look like a god). Nor are any of the other actors/actresses playing vampires in this film. Worse yet, they are not necessarily more attractive than Stewart herself. Especially troubling is the casting of Nikki Reed as Rosalie Hale. Reed is not stunningly beautiful, perhaps not even more beautiful than Stewart herself. This makes the awe of the student population of Forks HS and Bella's intimidation much less believable on screen than in the novels.
3. The Perils of First Person Narrative: Twilight, the book, is narrated in the first person by Bella herself. This is important for many reasons, not the least of which is that she controls the perspective and tone of the narrative. Bella is a detached, disaffected, emotionally flat character. As annoying as I have sometimes found this as I have read the novels, I realize after seeing the movie that her voice is essential to the consistency and success of the tone. The books seem very, very serious to me. There is a feeling of dread, danger, and melancholy that is pervasive throughout the series--which I think accounts for much of the romantic tension between Bella and Edward. It is one of the few things that makes Edward, or Bella's unhealthy obsession with him, remotely believable.
While screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg has given a nod to Bella's narration with some strategically placed voiceover, the camera (and director) necessarily becomes the narrator of this story when it is translated to film. Through the camera lens the perspective widens and the audience sees that Bella's world contains a far more wide-ranging emotional landscape than the novel suggests. The humor in the first half of the film (almost all of which emanates from Bella's peer group at school) is a result of the fact that the camera captures the reality of a high school experience that Bella herself cannot convey because she is either self-absorbed (in the first part of the novel), or preoccupied with Edward (in the second half). This myopic picture of Bella's world is actually more conducive to the suspension of disbelief because the dark and weighty tone allows the reader to enter a world in which eternal love and noble vampires might exist. The injection of "reality" provided by the perspective of the camera only serves to remind the viewer that Edward and his kind (not to mention the all-consuming, yet virginal, passion between Edward and Bella) cannot possibly exist in our world.
These were jarring problems for me, and made it impossible for me to fully enjoy or get lost in this film (something which, in the most ideal of circumstances, is not easy for me to do).
There is one element I'd like to praise the film for though. I did not even realize myself how specifically I had pictured the setting of the story. This probably should not be so surprising, given the fact that it is one of those rare narratives that takes place in my backyard. But I was pleased that so much of the background of the film looked exactly like I had imagined (with only one notable exception). They did get the feel of the NW--particularly the more rural NW--down beautifully. And there are a couple of stunningly beautiful (dark and rainy!) shots of Multnomah Falls.
Ultimately none of my thoughts about the film matter much, since, as J-Bro has commented, I wasn't the audience for this film in the first place. The people it was produced for--my teenage cousin and Jamie, who is a self-professed fangirl--loved it. Fair enough. Truly satisfying things in this world are few and far between--I'm glad that they loved it.
See. Not mean.
13 September 2008
Teaser
True story. Last night I got a text message from J-Bro that consisted of the word blog typed over and over again. This is not the first time she has pressured me. My recent writing hiatus has also prompted promptings from other readers.
The good (?) news is that I have a list of things that I have been needing to blog about. (And I use the term "need" very loosely.) Now that part of my employment picture is settled for the next few months, I have the time/energy to devote to the Make-Ready.
However, at this very moment, I have limited time--so I'll just provide this little nugget and promise you more to follow.
Earlier this week I went to see Vicky Cristina Barcelona with Keri T. I thought the film was totally delightful (maybe more on that later). But something really funny happened while we were there. When we entered the theater, we were the only patrons. But by the time the film started there were about 4 other parties seated. The most interesting of these was a group of 4 seemingly straight guys in their mid-twenties. As soon as they walked in, I started to wonder about how THAT came about. How did this group of guys decide to see this movie together on a Tuesday night? Weird, right?
As I was puzzling it out, the trailers started. The second or third trailer was for that remake of The Women. You know, the one with every female actress in the world in it. This is not a film that I am going to see. And I would bet that it isn't a film that Keri T. is going to see either. But we sat quietly and patiently during the trailer. At the end of it, however, one of the 4 guys in front of us said, a little too loudly, "I'd rather slit my wrists . . . "
The other guys laughed kind of quietly, but I laughed not quietly at all. Because that is funny. Not funny because it was really witty or anything. But funny because this guy apparently is the kind of guy who WOULDN'T see The Women, but WOULD come see V C B with 3 of his buddies on a Tuesday night.
I appreciated the unintentional irony.
(And before I get a bunch of comments that make this point--I sort of figured out the motivation eventually. These guys clearly expected the film to have significant girl on girl action--involving Scarlett Johansson and Penelope Cruz. Hmmm. That had to be sort of a disappointment.)
The good (?) news is that I have a list of things that I have been needing to blog about. (And I use the term "need" very loosely.) Now that part of my employment picture is settled for the next few months, I have the time/energy to devote to the Make-Ready.
However, at this very moment, I have limited time--so I'll just provide this little nugget and promise you more to follow.
Earlier this week I went to see Vicky Cristina Barcelona with Keri T. I thought the film was totally delightful (maybe more on that later). But something really funny happened while we were there. When we entered the theater, we were the only patrons. But by the time the film started there were about 4 other parties seated. The most interesting of these was a group of 4 seemingly straight guys in their mid-twenties. As soon as they walked in, I started to wonder about how THAT came about. How did this group of guys decide to see this movie together on a Tuesday night? Weird, right?
As I was puzzling it out, the trailers started. The second or third trailer was for that remake of The Women. You know, the one with every female actress in the world in it. This is not a film that I am going to see. And I would bet that it isn't a film that Keri T. is going to see either. But we sat quietly and patiently during the trailer. At the end of it, however, one of the 4 guys in front of us said, a little too loudly, "I'd rather slit my wrists . . . "
The other guys laughed kind of quietly, but I laughed not quietly at all. Because that is funny. Not funny because it was really witty or anything. But funny because this guy apparently is the kind of guy who WOULDN'T see The Women, but WOULD come see V C B with 3 of his buddies on a Tuesday night.
I appreciated the unintentional irony.
(And before I get a bunch of comments that make this point--I sort of figured out the motivation eventually. These guys clearly expected the film to have significant girl on girl action--involving Scarlett Johansson and Penelope Cruz. Hmmm. That had to be sort of a disappointment.)
16 August 2008
"I'm a lead farmer"
Although my goal when I left the house this afternoon was to find someplace where I could be productive and get some work done, I was undone by a phone call from Mikey J, who invited me to see an afternoon showing of Tropic Thunder with him and his new squeeze. My work was not fun. Tropic Thunder, on the other hand, sounded really fun.
And it was.
But maybe not for the reasons that I thought. Because, it is my opinion--and before I write this I just want to say that this is perhaps the most unlikely sentence to ever issue forth from my fingertips--that the performances by Matthew McConaughey and Tom Cruise are reasons enough to see this film.* Because these performances are very, very strange. And they would suggest that both actors have a sense of humor, something I don't tend to attribute to either of them. There is one moment in particular, when McConaughey deeply interrogates his conscience, that I think might be my favorite McConaughey moment of all time. (Of course, there aren't a lot of other moments in the running, but still.) Again, I can't believe that I'm actually writing this, but I'm ultimately very glad that Owen Wilson went all nutty and the McConaughey had to take his place. I think that it was smart of the studio to keep Cruise and the un-shirted one out of the previews. Too often the best jokes end up in the previews, ruining the few really good comedic moments in the film.
Um. Yeah. And that's all I really have to say about it. The thing that made me laugh the hardest I can't really write about, because it would give something worthwhile away. So, that's it.
Oh yeah, and did anyone else think that Downey looks strangely like Jude Law with the weird blue contacts and blonde hair? Cuz that is who he looked like to me . . .
*And, for the record, I am not primarily talking about the dancing, which is more disturbing than anything else.
And it was.
But maybe not for the reasons that I thought. Because, it is my opinion--and before I write this I just want to say that this is perhaps the most unlikely sentence to ever issue forth from my fingertips--that the performances by Matthew McConaughey and Tom Cruise are reasons enough to see this film.* Because these performances are very, very strange. And they would suggest that both actors have a sense of humor, something I don't tend to attribute to either of them. There is one moment in particular, when McConaughey deeply interrogates his conscience, that I think might be my favorite McConaughey moment of all time. (Of course, there aren't a lot of other moments in the running, but still.) Again, I can't believe that I'm actually writing this, but I'm ultimately very glad that Owen Wilson went all nutty and the McConaughey had to take his place. I think that it was smart of the studio to keep Cruise and the un-shirted one out of the previews. Too often the best jokes end up in the previews, ruining the few really good comedic moments in the film.
Um. Yeah. And that's all I really have to say about it. The thing that made me laugh the hardest I can't really write about, because it would give something worthwhile away. So, that's it.
Oh yeah, and did anyone else think that Downey looks strangely like Jude Law with the weird blue contacts and blonde hair? Cuz that is who he looked like to me . . .
*And, for the record, I am not primarily talking about the dancing, which is more disturbing than anything else.
09 August 2008
Young @ Heart
So, as many of you know, I am lucky to have marvelously fabulous parents. Tonight I went out on the town with them--to see a film (Young at Heart) and out for a bite to eat at the always satisfying Doug Fir. How many of you have ever gone to eat and drink somewhere with your parents where they were asked to present their inner right wrist for a stamp? I appreciate that I have parents who are up for that sort of thing.
Young at Heart is a documentary about a senior citizen's choir based in Northampton, MA. Their repertoire consists of punk, rock and r & b hits, with some gratuitous Talking Heads songs thrown in for good measure (apparently the choir's director, Bob Cilman, is a big David Byrne fan. Go figure). They give concerts in Noho, and tour Europe yearly, wearing jeans and white tuxedo shirts, reinterpreting popular music, and even performing a little choreography. The film follows the group for six weeks, as they prepare for a spring concert and learn new music that includes James Brown's "I Feel Good", Allen Toussaint's "Yes We Can", "Fix You" by Coldplay, and--inexplicably--Sonic Youth's "Schizophrenia". Filmmaker Stephen Walker profiles a half dozen of the members, letting his audience get close to them through interviews, home (and hospital) visits and long scenes in the rehearsal hall. There are also 3 or 4 music videos featuring the group peppered throughout the film.
It may be true that I am much more forgiving--nay--even welcoming--of schmaltz in non fiction films than in fictional ones. This film is poignant, sweet, funny and, ok, I'll admit it, inspiring. What becomes very clear over the course of the film is that these committed men and women live, often literally, for this music and for this group of people. It's a movie about the love of performance, about friendship, about growing old, and about people who find a way to live up until the last moments of their lives. It made me cry, my mother clap and exclaim out loud (often), and my father grin from ear to ear. It's a great doc.
Young at Heart is a documentary about a senior citizen's choir based in Northampton, MA. Their repertoire consists of punk, rock and r & b hits, with some gratuitous Talking Heads songs thrown in for good measure (apparently the choir's director, Bob Cilman, is a big David Byrne fan. Go figure). They give concerts in Noho, and tour Europe yearly, wearing jeans and white tuxedo shirts, reinterpreting popular music, and even performing a little choreography. The film follows the group for six weeks, as they prepare for a spring concert and learn new music that includes James Brown's "I Feel Good", Allen Toussaint's "Yes We Can", "Fix You" by Coldplay, and--inexplicably--Sonic Youth's "Schizophrenia". Filmmaker Stephen Walker profiles a half dozen of the members, letting his audience get close to them through interviews, home (and hospital) visits and long scenes in the rehearsal hall. There are also 3 or 4 music videos featuring the group peppered throughout the film.
It may be true that I am much more forgiving--nay--even welcoming--of schmaltz in non fiction films than in fictional ones. This film is poignant, sweet, funny and, ok, I'll admit it, inspiring. What becomes very clear over the course of the film is that these committed men and women live, often literally, for this music and for this group of people. It's a movie about the love of performance, about friendship, about growing old, and about people who find a way to live up until the last moments of their lives. It made me cry, my mother clap and exclaim out loud (often), and my father grin from ear to ear. It's a great doc.
07 August 2008
Lest you think I have just been sitting around pouting about the fact that I am a bad writer, let me tell you about the TV I watched yesterday.
1. The whole current season of Project Runway thusfar. Hey, you know what, that Suede guy needs to stop referring to himself in the third person. Seriously. I also have to admit that Blayne is growing on me. I mean, he's ridiculous and I hate all of his designs, but the guy does sort of make me laugh. And I get a kick out of his interactions with Tim.
2. Two episodes of Shear Genius. That show is AWFUL. But I saw the Charlie's Angels challenge, and I thought that Kate Jackson looked amazing. She has always been my favorite Angel. (And I've mentioned before my fondness of Mrs. King, as well.) I think maybe Bruce also likes her . . .
3. Half of Agnes of God. OK. I have a couple of questions suggested by this film. A) Why is it that certain films become late-night cable staples? I'm thinking of A of G, but also True Believer (a film that I cannot ever pass up if I come across it), A Few Good Men, An Officer and a Gentleman, The Accused. I've seen each of these films at least 5 times each. At least. But why do these films make good late-night fodder? I don't get it. B) What the hell is A of G about. In spite of the fact that I've seen it a number of times, I don't know what it is about at all. I just don't get it. I think I continue to watch it because I'm always sure that I've never finished it, and thus never got to the heart of the film. But last night I realized that I just don't understand it. C) Why do I like that scene between Anne Bancroft and Jane Fonda in the gazebo so much? I think that this scene is the other reason I can't not watch the film. D) Am I crazy to think that, if I could look like anyone in the world, I might choose Jane Fonda? The thing that is awesome about Jane Fonda is that she is very, very pretty, but in a perfectly normal kind of way. I mean, she could be just some woman that you could see in the grocery store or something. That appeals to me.
4) Three episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter. I suppose I should be wicked ashamed of how much I love the Dog. But I've decided to embrace it. Also, I have a big crush on Duane Lee, his least-badass looking son.
That's about it. If it seems like this is a lot of TV for one girl to watch in one day, you are right. But I stayed up very late in order to accomplish it, and I was doing lots of other stuff while the TV was on--so it wasn't quite the waste of time it could have been . . .
1. The whole current season of Project Runway thusfar. Hey, you know what, that Suede guy needs to stop referring to himself in the third person. Seriously. I also have to admit that Blayne is growing on me. I mean, he's ridiculous and I hate all of his designs, but the guy does sort of make me laugh. And I get a kick out of his interactions with Tim.
2. Two episodes of Shear Genius. That show is AWFUL. But I saw the Charlie's Angels challenge, and I thought that Kate Jackson looked amazing. She has always been my favorite Angel. (And I've mentioned before my fondness of Mrs. King, as well.) I think maybe Bruce also likes her . . .
3. Half of Agnes of God. OK. I have a couple of questions suggested by this film. A) Why is it that certain films become late-night cable staples? I'm thinking of A of G, but also True Believer (a film that I cannot ever pass up if I come across it), A Few Good Men, An Officer and a Gentleman, The Accused. I've seen each of these films at least 5 times each. At least. But why do these films make good late-night fodder? I don't get it. B) What the hell is A of G about. In spite of the fact that I've seen it a number of times, I don't know what it is about at all. I just don't get it. I think I continue to watch it because I'm always sure that I've never finished it, and thus never got to the heart of the film. But last night I realized that I just don't understand it. C) Why do I like that scene between Anne Bancroft and Jane Fonda in the gazebo so much? I think that this scene is the other reason I can't not watch the film. D) Am I crazy to think that, if I could look like anyone in the world, I might choose Jane Fonda? The thing that is awesome about Jane Fonda is that she is very, very pretty, but in a perfectly normal kind of way. I mean, she could be just some woman that you could see in the grocery store or something. That appeals to me.
4) Three episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter. I suppose I should be wicked ashamed of how much I love the Dog. But I've decided to embrace it. Also, I have a big crush on Duane Lee, his least-badass looking son.
That's about it. If it seems like this is a lot of TV for one girl to watch in one day, you are right. But I stayed up very late in order to accomplish it, and I was doing lots of other stuff while the TV was on--so it wasn't quite the waste of time it could have been . . .
16 July 2008
What I Consume
My mother and I are having a good-natured competition to see which one of us will read the greatest number of books in this calendar year. So far we are neck and neck. She reads more consistently than I do, but I read faster. I am also keeping track of my total number of pages, but I don't think that she does. Right now I'm trying to read through things that I've been half done with for a long time. I figure that I can't really transport the next-to-my-bed stack of books. As a result, my reading list has been particularly schizophrenic recently. Here are the things that I've read in the past two weeks:
1. A best seller that mixes the Dracula legend and academic mystery/thriller.
2. A popular history of GIN.
3. A book of negative reviews of "classic" albums.
4. A collection of short stories about psychotherapy, based on actual cases from the therapy career of the author.
5. A "comic" novel about a British royal couple who try to reclaim the U.S. for the Crown.
6. A parenting book. (Don't ask.)
7. A terrible book of short stories about a 20-something chick who moves to Austin with her cousin. Most of the stories are about trying to get into Tom Waits shows. I hated it.
8. A thriller by Eric Ambler--the "father" of the modern political thriller. He's awesome.
I'm halfway through (and will finish tonight) a novel about an Indian (from India) myth about a princess with five husbands. It's actually pretty good. Normally I have a rule against reading anything that takes place in India (long story) but this one is making me rethink the rule a little. (Have I mentioned before that I also have rules against a) books that begin on a boat b) leisure activities that require renting shoes and c) films that star Angelina Jolie--except for Hackers, but that is because the presence of the fabulous Johnnie Lee Miller trumps all other rules. I'd also bowl or ice skate with him.)
I've also been watching a lot of rented movies while I pack. They include:
1. Cleaner.
2. Shopgirl.
3. Charlie Bartlett. (Liked it a lot. It felt like an old-fashioned teen flick. AND I couldn't love Robert Downey Jr. more. More on this film later.)
4. The Hammer. (Adorable, actually.)
5. Sleuth. (Not as good as the original, but Harold Pinter wrote the screenplay, and gets interviewed in the extras. I love Harold Pinter.)
I have the first season of Hill Street Blues to keep me company for the rest of my packing. More on that coming.
1. A best seller that mixes the Dracula legend and academic mystery/thriller.
2. A popular history of GIN.
3. A book of negative reviews of "classic" albums.
4. A collection of short stories about psychotherapy, based on actual cases from the therapy career of the author.
5. A "comic" novel about a British royal couple who try to reclaim the U.S. for the Crown.
6. A parenting book. (Don't ask.)
7. A terrible book of short stories about a 20-something chick who moves to Austin with her cousin. Most of the stories are about trying to get into Tom Waits shows. I hated it.
8. A thriller by Eric Ambler--the "father" of the modern political thriller. He's awesome.
I'm halfway through (and will finish tonight) a novel about an Indian (from India) myth about a princess with five husbands. It's actually pretty good. Normally I have a rule against reading anything that takes place in India (long story) but this one is making me rethink the rule a little. (Have I mentioned before that I also have rules against a) books that begin on a boat b) leisure activities that require renting shoes and c) films that star Angelina Jolie--except for Hackers, but that is because the presence of the fabulous Johnnie Lee Miller trumps all other rules. I'd also bowl or ice skate with him.)
I've also been watching a lot of rented movies while I pack. They include:
1. Cleaner.
2. Shopgirl.
3. Charlie Bartlett. (Liked it a lot. It felt like an old-fashioned teen flick. AND I couldn't love Robert Downey Jr. more. More on this film later.)
4. The Hammer. (Adorable, actually.)
5. Sleuth. (Not as good as the original, but Harold Pinter wrote the screenplay, and gets interviewed in the extras. I love Harold Pinter.)
I have the first season of Hill Street Blues to keep me company for the rest of my packing. More on that coming.
15 May 2008
I'm Woman Enough
to explain J-Bro's last comment. She sent my brother this you tube clip of scenes from The Notebook set to the the song "Right Here Waiting" and then he sent it to me and to Mikey J. I didn't watch it for awhile, but when I did, it made me cry.
Ok, listen, I'm not proud of that. But the song came out my freshman or sophomore year of high school and it reminds me of being 13 and of dances (because I still went to school dances then--it was before I "graduated" to hanging out at Red Robin after games with friends who drove). And it is a truly emotionally manipulative song to boot.
Also, for the record, I have never seen The Notebook, because I have sort of a policy against films made from NYT bestsellers. It's almost never a good idea. BUT, Ryan Gosling also makes me cry. As J-Bro is well aware, I couldn't even watch the end of Half Nelson because I was so upset and disturbed by it. I saw Lars and the Real Girl 3 times in the theater. But the thing that really gets me is The Believer--in which he plays a self-hating Jewish neo-Nazi. (If you know me well enough you probably understand why this is one of my favorite movies ever.)
Bottom line: I can't take Richard Marx AND Ryan Gosling at the same time.
And, really? Blake actually likes G. E. Smith? For all these years I thought he was being ironic. When we were kids we'd watch SNL and he'd get really excited when they would show G. E. Smith playing on the outros. He'd get even more excited if G. E. Smith was actually in a scene (which would happen every now and again).
God, we are a family of people with really bad taste.
Ok, listen, I'm not proud of that. But the song came out my freshman or sophomore year of high school and it reminds me of being 13 and of dances (because I still went to school dances then--it was before I "graduated" to hanging out at Red Robin after games with friends who drove). And it is a truly emotionally manipulative song to boot.
Also, for the record, I have never seen The Notebook, because I have sort of a policy against films made from NYT bestsellers. It's almost never a good idea. BUT, Ryan Gosling also makes me cry. As J-Bro is well aware, I couldn't even watch the end of Half Nelson because I was so upset and disturbed by it. I saw Lars and the Real Girl 3 times in the theater. But the thing that really gets me is The Believer--in which he plays a self-hating Jewish neo-Nazi. (If you know me well enough you probably understand why this is one of my favorite movies ever.)
Bottom line: I can't take Richard Marx AND Ryan Gosling at the same time.
And, really? Blake actually likes G. E. Smith? For all these years I thought he was being ironic. When we were kids we'd watch SNL and he'd get really excited when they would show G. E. Smith playing on the outros. He'd get even more excited if G. E. Smith was actually in a scene (which would happen every now and again).
God, we are a family of people with really bad taste.
01 May 2008
Reply to Uncle Moo
Ok Marcus. I could swear that I told you to shut your trap about If Lucy Fell. I'm not SJP's greatest fan or anything, but I love that film. Get over the fact that you watched it on my recommendation and hated it. That Eric Shaeffer guy is interesting. I like the stuff he does. And I do think that Bwick Elias is a good Ben Stiller character.
Now that I am done being pissy with you--one thing that is interesting about your comments on my blog is this: you often challenge my own sense of what the editorial policy of The Make-Ready is and should be. #1: you asked me to write on a specific topic (that piece of crap movie Legends of the Fall). Do I take requests? I have decided that I do. This has proven to be a hard post to write, because I have come around to your way of thinking on the matter. I am going to have to watch the film again in order to do the topic justice. And that is NOT something that I look forward to. Additionally, Qwanty has registered some mild objections to this topic, because she knows that I can't talk about the film without talking about her. The writing that I have already started on this subject does indeed discuss the circumstances under which I saw it, which does implicate Qwanty. I'm still working through this. But rest assured that I have not forgotten the request, and I will fill it at some point in the future.
Challenge #2: This has been brought up by your last post. Do I allow comment-ers to plug their own sites or posts? I've decided that, yes, I do. But I will also state here, for the record, that I have not yet read Marcus's contest blogs, and thus cannot recommend them. So, while I will allow you to drum up interest, I will not authorize or legitimize the product. I think that this is a reasonable policy going forward. (Of course, I will indeed read these gems. We are family, after all.)
In closing, Secretary as Christian allegory? Hmm. I may not think about that too hard. It sort of ruins the effect for me. Is that what you were trying to do? Is this some kind of perverse psychology trick? If so, you are a bad, bad preacher man. I invoke the voice of Beavis here (and I do think it is both apt and appropriate) when I ask, "Butthead, why do you have to ruin everything that is good in my life?"
(By the way--I'm TOTALLY in "training" and I hope that by the end of the summer I'm up to actually taking a run with you. I finally finished Bowerman and the Men of Oregon and it totally inspired me. Have you read it yet? If not, borrow my dad's copy and read it. It will make you proud to be a freaking Oregonian!)
Now that I am done being pissy with you--one thing that is interesting about your comments on my blog is this: you often challenge my own sense of what the editorial policy of The Make-Ready is and should be. #1: you asked me to write on a specific topic (that piece of crap movie Legends of the Fall). Do I take requests? I have decided that I do. This has proven to be a hard post to write, because I have come around to your way of thinking on the matter. I am going to have to watch the film again in order to do the topic justice. And that is NOT something that I look forward to. Additionally, Qwanty has registered some mild objections to this topic, because she knows that I can't talk about the film without talking about her. The writing that I have already started on this subject does indeed discuss the circumstances under which I saw it, which does implicate Qwanty. I'm still working through this. But rest assured that I have not forgotten the request, and I will fill it at some point in the future.
Challenge #2: This has been brought up by your last post. Do I allow comment-ers to plug their own sites or posts? I've decided that, yes, I do. But I will also state here, for the record, that I have not yet read Marcus's contest blogs, and thus cannot recommend them. So, while I will allow you to drum up interest, I will not authorize or legitimize the product. I think that this is a reasonable policy going forward. (Of course, I will indeed read these gems. We are family, after all.)
In closing, Secretary as Christian allegory? Hmm. I may not think about that too hard. It sort of ruins the effect for me. Is that what you were trying to do? Is this some kind of perverse psychology trick? If so, you are a bad, bad preacher man. I invoke the voice of Beavis here (and I do think it is both apt and appropriate) when I ask, "Butthead, why do you have to ruin everything that is good in my life?"
(By the way--I'm TOTALLY in "training" and I hope that by the end of the summer I'm up to actually taking a run with you. I finally finished Bowerman and the Men of Oregon and it totally inspired me. Have you read it yet? If not, borrow my dad's copy and read it. It will make you proud to be a freaking Oregonian!)
In the interest
of full disclosure, I feel like I should admit that I went to see Baby Mama with Nikki last weekend. She had good reasons for wanting to see it--particularly in terms of wanting to see how the film dealt with race. I had no such critical curiosity. I just went because she suggested it, and it looked sort of funny.
Now, I'm not going to spend a lot of time really "reviewing" this film, but I thought that I would share with you some of the impressions/experiences that accompanied seeing the film.
1. What is truly great is about this film is seeing 2 women who have serious on-screen chemistry and are funny. This is a very, very rare thing. I read a review that suggested that this was a "chick flick" which actually surprised me. I didn't think of it as such when I saw the trailer, although I can understand that categorization now that I've seen the film. That said, I think that it does Fey/Poehler a disservice as a comedy team because I'm pretty sure that they can make dudes laugh. And everyone (guys and lesbians alike) seems to understand that Tina Fey has that smart/sexy thing going on. (Like someone I know who occasionally reads this blog, so I will not call her out, but I think that most of us know who I am talking about. OR like a certain short, brunette, bespectacled and nervous PSU prof--)
2. I found too much of the humor in the beginning of the film uncomfortable because I realized I was laughing because it felt true. In one scene, Tina Fey, who now knows that her t-shaped uterus is not conducive to conceiving and bearing a child, coos and waves to a baby looking at her over its mother's shoulder. Then she leans in and actually makes contact with the baby. I have done this. I have, for my own gratification, talked to, made eyes at, and even touched, some stranger's baby. It's disturbing, I know, but it's like I can't help it. (And apparently I am not the only woman to have done so.) Anyway, I can assure you that this is not a comfortable thing to see reflected back to you in a film.
3. The film makes fun of Whole Foods. And that is funny. Steve Martin is integral to the humor surrounding this storyline, and that makes it even funnier.
4. This was much more of a romantic comedy than either of us expected. I don't know if that is good or bad. Since I generally hate romantic comedies (except Secretary--which I know some of you don't consider a romantic comedy, and If Lucy Fell--shut your damn trap, Marcus), I suppose that is mostly bad.
5. (And this is actually the thing that I most want to say about the experience of this film.) The worst part of Baby Mama, for me, was having to buy my ticket to it. Because I had to say the name of the film. Out loud. And that turned out to be a problem. There are two issues here: first, I think that I was a little embarrassed to be seeing the film in the first place. And I am somewhat concerned about my "cool" in that I DO, on occasion, worry that the book or music that I am buying, or the film that I am renting or seeing somehow makes me not look at all cool. I am guilty of trying to pass some of this consumption off as "ironic". It is because I do actually care what people who work around these particular cultural products think about me. It's lame. I know it is lame. I know that people who work at bookstores aren't all that cool (given the fact that I have worked at bookstores myself, and know lots of other people who have too), but I'm still weirdly worried about it.
This, of course, all goes back to the horrible over-identification I (and many others--c'mon, a lot of you do this too) have with my "things." I know in my head that I am not my CD collection, my library, my DVDs (oh god, I wonder what 8 seasons worth of Charmed really says about me--), my jewelry and barrettes, but part of me does believe that these things are who I am. And, frankly, there are some possessions that do, in fact, seem to stand in for me to the world outside. (I am thinking specifically about my hello kitty traveler's mug, which I am starting to develop a bit of a complex about.) What all of this means is that I am quite susceptible to the judgment of others about these things, particularly to the judgment of those who pedal the crap with which I surround myself.
But maybe that is a bit of a digression. The second reason that buying the ticket pained me was that I had to utter the phrase "baby mama" aloud, to a stranger. I am not linguistically daring. This is part of the reason why I suck at foreign languages. I don't like to sound stupid. And saying a phrase like "baby mama", which has no business coming out of my mouth, ever, for any reason, makes me feel stupid. And, frankly, I can't say it without sounding really uptight and awkward and, well, white. The phrase sticks in my mouth, I feel and sound self-conscious using it, and it ends up sounding that much more ridiculous. It is very much like when I try to say something in French, which also comes out sounding really uptight, awkward, and, well, American.
Ultimately it is probably good for me to have to use language that I am not comfortable with and that I don't own. But I couldn't help thinking that someone was out there laughing at me for doing it--and paying to do it--in this case--
Now, I'm not going to spend a lot of time really "reviewing" this film, but I thought that I would share with you some of the impressions/experiences that accompanied seeing the film.
1. What is truly great is about this film is seeing 2 women who have serious on-screen chemistry and are funny. This is a very, very rare thing. I read a review that suggested that this was a "chick flick" which actually surprised me. I didn't think of it as such when I saw the trailer, although I can understand that categorization now that I've seen the film. That said, I think that it does Fey/Poehler a disservice as a comedy team because I'm pretty sure that they can make dudes laugh. And everyone (guys and lesbians alike) seems to understand that Tina Fey has that smart/sexy thing going on. (Like someone I know who occasionally reads this blog, so I will not call her out, but I think that most of us know who I am talking about. OR like a certain short, brunette, bespectacled and nervous PSU prof--)
2. I found too much of the humor in the beginning of the film uncomfortable because I realized I was laughing because it felt true. In one scene, Tina Fey, who now knows that her t-shaped uterus is not conducive to conceiving and bearing a child, coos and waves to a baby looking at her over its mother's shoulder. Then she leans in and actually makes contact with the baby. I have done this. I have, for my own gratification, talked to, made eyes at, and even touched, some stranger's baby. It's disturbing, I know, but it's like I can't help it. (And apparently I am not the only woman to have done so.) Anyway, I can assure you that this is not a comfortable thing to see reflected back to you in a film.
3. The film makes fun of Whole Foods. And that is funny. Steve Martin is integral to the humor surrounding this storyline, and that makes it even funnier.
4. This was much more of a romantic comedy than either of us expected. I don't know if that is good or bad. Since I generally hate romantic comedies (except Secretary--which I know some of you don't consider a romantic comedy, and If Lucy Fell--shut your damn trap, Marcus), I suppose that is mostly bad.
5. (And this is actually the thing that I most want to say about the experience of this film.) The worst part of Baby Mama, for me, was having to buy my ticket to it. Because I had to say the name of the film. Out loud. And that turned out to be a problem. There are two issues here: first, I think that I was a little embarrassed to be seeing the film in the first place. And I am somewhat concerned about my "cool" in that I DO, on occasion, worry that the book or music that I am buying, or the film that I am renting or seeing somehow makes me not look at all cool. I am guilty of trying to pass some of this consumption off as "ironic". It is because I do actually care what people who work around these particular cultural products think about me. It's lame. I know it is lame. I know that people who work at bookstores aren't all that cool (given the fact that I have worked at bookstores myself, and know lots of other people who have too), but I'm still weirdly worried about it.
This, of course, all goes back to the horrible over-identification I (and many others--c'mon, a lot of you do this too) have with my "things." I know in my head that I am not my CD collection, my library, my DVDs (oh god, I wonder what 8 seasons worth of Charmed really says about me--), my jewelry and barrettes, but part of me does believe that these things are who I am. And, frankly, there are some possessions that do, in fact, seem to stand in for me to the world outside. (I am thinking specifically about my hello kitty traveler's mug, which I am starting to develop a bit of a complex about.) What all of this means is that I am quite susceptible to the judgment of others about these things, particularly to the judgment of those who pedal the crap with which I surround myself.
But maybe that is a bit of a digression. The second reason that buying the ticket pained me was that I had to utter the phrase "baby mama" aloud, to a stranger. I am not linguistically daring. This is part of the reason why I suck at foreign languages. I don't like to sound stupid. And saying a phrase like "baby mama", which has no business coming out of my mouth, ever, for any reason, makes me feel stupid. And, frankly, I can't say it without sounding really uptight and awkward and, well, white. The phrase sticks in my mouth, I feel and sound self-conscious using it, and it ends up sounding that much more ridiculous. It is very much like when I try to say something in French, which also comes out sounding really uptight, awkward, and, well, American.
Ultimately it is probably good for me to have to use language that I am not comfortable with and that I don't own. But I couldn't help thinking that someone was out there laughing at me for doing it--and paying to do it--in this case--
21 February 2008
5 Ways I've Been Spending 2008, So Far
You are going to think that this is just an excuse, and maybe it is, but I have been experiencing writer's block due to my anxiety over MY OWN influence. Seriously. You might also think that this assertion is crazy, but I have had it in my mind that the story about the guy eating a hunk of cheese is actually the best story of all time, and that nothing so interesting will ever happen to me again in my life.
Also, I'm trying to write a dissertation.
But I have decided to push my deep fears to the side, and contribute yet again to the world of digital solipsism, because, you know, the world needs my 2 cents like it needs a hole in the head.
So here goes. This is what I have been up to for the past 7 weeks or so.
1) Worrying about when my sister-in-law is actually going to give birth to baby what's-his-name. His due date was February 29th, which would suck for the little tiger since it would mean that he'd only have his fourth birthday on the year of his sweet sixteen. (It's like being a person in dog years.) But signs have been good for the past week that the little guy isn't going to wait that long. SO at first it was a matter of being worried that he would be born on the birthday of someone whose birthday I would rather forget. That sucked. But the cusp came and went and NOW, I am worried that he's going to be a perverse little thing (much like his father) and show up on my special day. I know that I am going to be 33 this year, and that I should be mature enough to share this day with others. But I'm not. So--anytime now little Jesus/Beauxcecil/Indiana/Cid/Merle/Hank/Trucker. We're waiting.
2) Having my mind blown by Crispin Glover. I had to go alone to see Crispin Glover, since I didn't think that it was fair to force anyone to go see a movie about a man with cp having sex with women (one underage and two with disabilities of their own) and then killing them. But I have to say, the experience was one of the most intense I've ever had in an "art" context. His film (It's Fine. Everything is Fine) did exactly what he meant for it to do. It made me feel horribly uncomfortable, and then it made me have to struggle with why it made me feel that way, and what that says about my prejudices, and my aesthetics. I honestly felt convicted by the film, which rarely (almost never?) happens to me when I'm looking at/experiencing art of any kind. So, that blew my mind.
But then there was the celebrity part of the experience. J-Bro best summed this up for me when she said that it was like sitting in a theatre, and a spaceship lands, and Crispin Glover walks out and talks to you for 3 hours and then he gets BACK in the spaceship and takes off, only to return to Earth for his next performance. I would add to that by saying that you should really think about what it is like to see a spaceship land and to see an alien walk out of it who CLEARLY is an alien, but turns out to speak English, and to say really pretty smart things, and who seems to be just a hell of a nice guy. EVEN WEIRDER. What I realized when I saw him is that I have been thinking, all these years that I have been interested in him and in his work, that somehow he doesn't really live in my world. I know that George Clooney and the Dalai Lama and Brit Hume (I don't know, this is a random list--you know what I mean) and even Chuck--yes, even Chuck Klosterman--are just dudes walking around in the same world that I am walking around in. They may have more interesting lives, and know more important people, and do things that will have great effect on the world than I, but they are still just dudes. But I think that I never really thought that Cripsin Glover was a real dude. It's like finding out that there actually IS an Incredible Hulk. Or Batman.
This is all, of course, just another way of saying what J said.
3. Driving between Little City and Flightpath. I mention this because I spend a lot of time driving to and fro and then hanging out at these two places. Sometimes I get a lot of work done, and sometimes I don't. I drink a double Americano at Little City, preferably with soy milk. Sometimes I eat a bagel there too, but I always end up regretting it, because I really want a bagel from Flightpath. With olive cream cheese. And I try to keep myself to only one bagel a day. I drink triple iced espressos at Flightpath. And then, sometimes, beer. I need the decisions about what I am going to order to be automatic, since I spend so much time deciding which coffeeshop I'm going to go to, and when, and for how long I am going to stay. This is where higher ed has ultimately led me. It's no good, people.
4. Becoming a groupie. But only for this guy. http://www.myspace.com/raisedbypandas. Listen to the song "Where the World Stands Still" (Jen refers to this as "the Superman song") and tell me that this guy can't write a great song.
5. Watching The Tudors. OK Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I am soooo onto you. You are NOT actually a good actor. You distract us with your ridiculously defined arm muscles. AND you choose parts in which we may mistake your overacting for a reasonable interpretation of a particular character. (No one can deny this. I direct your attention to the characters Bryan Slade in Velvet Goldmine, Steerpike in Gormenghast, and Henry VIII in the aforementioned Tudors as representative examples.) In particular I suggest watching the scene in which Anne Boleyn and Hank finally get it on. (You know, after she survives the plague and all). JRM/Henry has a complete hissy fit--in his ridiculous royal undies--when Anne doesn't let him, well, complete, the act. (Note: I was describing this scene to Dr. Awesome the other day and could hardly get through it due to my hysterical laughter. This is probably the funniest scene that has ever aired on Showtime.)
Also, I'm trying to write a dissertation.
But I have decided to push my deep fears to the side, and contribute yet again to the world of digital solipsism, because, you know, the world needs my 2 cents like it needs a hole in the head.
So here goes. This is what I have been up to for the past 7 weeks or so.
1) Worrying about when my sister-in-law is actually going to give birth to baby what's-his-name. His due date was February 29th, which would suck for the little tiger since it would mean that he'd only have his fourth birthday on the year of his sweet sixteen. (It's like being a person in dog years.) But signs have been good for the past week that the little guy isn't going to wait that long. SO at first it was a matter of being worried that he would be born on the birthday of someone whose birthday I would rather forget. That sucked. But the cusp came and went and NOW, I am worried that he's going to be a perverse little thing (much like his father) and show up on my special day. I know that I am going to be 33 this year, and that I should be mature enough to share this day with others. But I'm not. So--anytime now little Jesus/Beauxcecil/Indiana/Cid/Merle/Hank/Trucker. We're waiting.
2) Having my mind blown by Crispin Glover. I had to go alone to see Crispin Glover, since I didn't think that it was fair to force anyone to go see a movie about a man with cp having sex with women (one underage and two with disabilities of their own) and then killing them. But I have to say, the experience was one of the most intense I've ever had in an "art" context. His film (It's Fine. Everything is Fine) did exactly what he meant for it to do. It made me feel horribly uncomfortable, and then it made me have to struggle with why it made me feel that way, and what that says about my prejudices, and my aesthetics. I honestly felt convicted by the film, which rarely (almost never?) happens to me when I'm looking at/experiencing art of any kind. So, that blew my mind.
But then there was the celebrity part of the experience. J-Bro best summed this up for me when she said that it was like sitting in a theatre, and a spaceship lands, and Crispin Glover walks out and talks to you for 3 hours and then he gets BACK in the spaceship and takes off, only to return to Earth for his next performance. I would add to that by saying that you should really think about what it is like to see a spaceship land and to see an alien walk out of it who CLEARLY is an alien, but turns out to speak English, and to say really pretty smart things, and who seems to be just a hell of a nice guy. EVEN WEIRDER. What I realized when I saw him is that I have been thinking, all these years that I have been interested in him and in his work, that somehow he doesn't really live in my world. I know that George Clooney and the Dalai Lama and Brit Hume (I don't know, this is a random list--you know what I mean) and even Chuck--yes, even Chuck Klosterman--are just dudes walking around in the same world that I am walking around in. They may have more interesting lives, and know more important people, and do things that will have great effect on the world than I, but they are still just dudes. But I think that I never really thought that Cripsin Glover was a real dude. It's like finding out that there actually IS an Incredible Hulk. Or Batman.
This is all, of course, just another way of saying what J said.
3. Driving between Little City and Flightpath. I mention this because I spend a lot of time driving to and fro and then hanging out at these two places. Sometimes I get a lot of work done, and sometimes I don't. I drink a double Americano at Little City, preferably with soy milk. Sometimes I eat a bagel there too, but I always end up regretting it, because I really want a bagel from Flightpath. With olive cream cheese. And I try to keep myself to only one bagel a day. I drink triple iced espressos at Flightpath. And then, sometimes, beer. I need the decisions about what I am going to order to be automatic, since I spend so much time deciding which coffeeshop I'm going to go to, and when, and for how long I am going to stay. This is where higher ed has ultimately led me. It's no good, people.
4. Becoming a groupie. But only for this guy. http://www.myspace.com/raisedbypandas. Listen to the song "Where the World Stands Still" (Jen refers to this as "the Superman song") and tell me that this guy can't write a great song.
5. Watching The Tudors. OK Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I am soooo onto you. You are NOT actually a good actor. You distract us with your ridiculously defined arm muscles. AND you choose parts in which we may mistake your overacting for a reasonable interpretation of a particular character. (No one can deny this. I direct your attention to the characters Bryan Slade in Velvet Goldmine, Steerpike in Gormenghast, and Henry VIII in the aforementioned Tudors as representative examples.) In particular I suggest watching the scene in which Anne Boleyn and Hank finally get it on. (You know, after she survives the plague and all). JRM/Henry has a complete hissy fit--in his ridiculous royal undies--when Anne doesn't let him, well, complete, the act. (Note: I was describing this scene to Dr. Awesome the other day and could hardly get through it due to my hysterical laughter. This is probably the funniest scene that has ever aired on Showtime.)
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