It is with great sadness that I must update yesterday's flying pig story with the news that the pig has been found in two tattered halves a few miles from the festival site. The two people whose yards the pig wound up in will be splitting the reward. Good for them, sad for Roger Waters and everyone who thinks two-story pig balloons are just plain awesome.
:(
I am very put out.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Everything's an Inspiration
I've always been a bathroom reader. This may be why I tend to come up with my best ideas while, um, you know. Anyways, I recently picked up for that most essential of rooms a trade paperback of the complete works of Shakespeare, because Chapters was practically throwing it at me. It would have cost more to rent two new releases at Blockbuster than to own every single play and sonnet. And Corey mentions every so often how great Shakespeare is, so I thought it was something he'd really enjoy. But, when I'm stuck in the bathroom with no other literature, no crossword, nothing, I've been turning to Shakespeare because hey, it was there, and I had nothing else to occupy my mind while my body does its thing. Pardon me, I need to go talk down the horde of British academics at my door calling for my head.
I must confess, I've become interested in the Bard myself as of late. Up 'til now I've read only four of his plays, for high school's sake - Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Merchant of Venice, and Hamlet, and only have fond memories of Hamlet. Plus, I remembered reading Shakespeare for being a lot of work, and reading shouldn't have to feel like work.
Turns out, the secret to reading Shakespeare without it being a struggle is to just watch some performers who know how to act it properly. Recently ending its presentation on TVO was a superb British documentary called "In Search of Shakespeare", written, presented, and hosted by historian Michael Wood, and featuring key locations, primary-source documents, and touring with the Royal Shakespeare Company. The entire documentary was extremely interesting, educational, and impressive - Mr. Wood was a fabulous host, and the British keep records like no one else - but probably the most useful thing I took away from the series was seeing snippets of the RSC performing Othello and Henry the VI part II. Hearing people who understand the stories and intent speak Shakespeare's words made everything perfectly clear and sensible, and now, as I work my way through his works in chronological order (I'm currently enjoying Henry the VI part 1), I read it hearing the phrasing and expressions demonstrated by the players of the RSC...and finally realize just how fantastic Shakespeare is. I never saw how great and interesting his work is.
So, if you've always felt Shakespeare to be more than a little inaccessible, the remedy is to be exposed to even five minutes of an actor who really knows what they're doing with the material, and poof! instant happiness! I should mention here that I have seen Kenneth Brannagh's Hamlet and found it very inaccessible - the Royal Shakesepeare Co.'s phrasing and delivery made much more sense to me. But Brannagh works for a lot of people, so see whatever clicks for you. Or just wait for TVO to repeat In Search of Shakespeare - it'll come back on eventually.
Me, I'm just happy because a whole new world has been opened to me, and I'm enjoying Henry the VI so very much.
I must confess, I've become interested in the Bard myself as of late. Up 'til now I've read only four of his plays, for high school's sake - Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Merchant of Venice, and Hamlet, and only have fond memories of Hamlet. Plus, I remembered reading Shakespeare for being a lot of work, and reading shouldn't have to feel like work.
Turns out, the secret to reading Shakespeare without it being a struggle is to just watch some performers who know how to act it properly. Recently ending its presentation on TVO was a superb British documentary called "In Search of Shakespeare", written, presented, and hosted by historian Michael Wood, and featuring key locations, primary-source documents, and touring with the Royal Shakespeare Company. The entire documentary was extremely interesting, educational, and impressive - Mr. Wood was a fabulous host, and the British keep records like no one else - but probably the most useful thing I took away from the series was seeing snippets of the RSC performing Othello and Henry the VI part II. Hearing people who understand the stories and intent speak Shakespeare's words made everything perfectly clear and sensible, and now, as I work my way through his works in chronological order (I'm currently enjoying Henry the VI part 1), I read it hearing the phrasing and expressions demonstrated by the players of the RSC...and finally realize just how fantastic Shakespeare is. I never saw how great and interesting his work is.
So, if you've always felt Shakespeare to be more than a little inaccessible, the remedy is to be exposed to even five minutes of an actor who really knows what they're doing with the material, and poof! instant happiness! I should mention here that I have seen Kenneth Brannagh's Hamlet and found it very inaccessible - the Royal Shakesepeare Co.'s phrasing and delivery made much more sense to me. But Brannagh works for a lot of people, so see whatever clicks for you. Or just wait for TVO to repeat In Search of Shakespeare - it'll come back on eventually.
Me, I'm just happy because a whole new world has been opened to me, and I'm enjoying Henry the VI so very much.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
You CAN make this stuff up!
Remember that old Simpsons episode where Homer joins the Hullabalooza tour with the Smashing Pumpkins? And there's that joke with Peter Frampton having problems with his giant pig balloon?
Well, I evidently do, so you can imagine how hard I laughed when I caught this article off CNN.
AWESOME!!!
Well, I evidently do, so you can imagine how hard I laughed when I caught this article off CNN.
AWESOME!!!
Monday, April 28, 2008
Flies and the undead go together like bullets and guns
Aaaah. I have now completed my film education. Yes, I have finally seen the The Lost Boys!
I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed, as I thought that it was about surfer vampires. Turns out that's the sequel. This one's about a vampire motorcycle gang, and motorcycle vampires are so passe.
Of course, I kid. The lack of surfers was the only dent in Lost Boys' supreme 1987 awesomeness. What with the epic meeting of the Coreys (Haim and Feldman) and Bill S. Preston, Esq. (Alex Winter) as a vampire biker goon, flying vampires, and perhaps the greatest grandpa on film (who also provides a truly perfect ending), it's one fun night in. Okay, the lack of surfers wasn't the only impediment to true awesomeness: director Joel Schumacher did a great job of neutering all of the badassedness cultivated by Kiefer Sutherland only a year before in Stand By Me. How can Kiefer as the leader of a vampire motorcycle gang not be the least bit intimidating? Ask Joel Schumacher, because he figured it out. It's almost impressive.
But hey. Kiefer's still in it. Combine him with the Coreys and Bill of Bill and Ted fame, and one awesome grandpa, and it's 80's fun at it's (almost) finest. Looking forward to the surfing sequel, featuring most of the original cast but especially Feldman.
I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed, as I thought that it was about surfer vampires. Turns out that's the sequel. This one's about a vampire motorcycle gang, and motorcycle vampires are so passe.
Of course, I kid. The lack of surfers was the only dent in Lost Boys' supreme 1987 awesomeness. What with the epic meeting of the Coreys (Haim and Feldman) and Bill S. Preston, Esq. (Alex Winter) as a vampire biker goon, flying vampires, and perhaps the greatest grandpa on film (who also provides a truly perfect ending), it's one fun night in. Okay, the lack of surfers wasn't the only impediment to true awesomeness: director Joel Schumacher did a great job of neutering all of the badassedness cultivated by Kiefer Sutherland only a year before in Stand By Me. How can Kiefer as the leader of a vampire motorcycle gang not be the least bit intimidating? Ask Joel Schumacher, because he figured it out. It's almost impressive.
But hey. Kiefer's still in it. Combine him with the Coreys and Bill of Bill and Ted fame, and one awesome grandpa, and it's 80's fun at it's (almost) finest. Looking forward to the surfing sequel, featuring most of the original cast but especially Feldman.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
I've got all five senses and I slept last night, and that puts me six up on the lot of you.
Q: What do you call a film with no target audience?
A: A film for film buffs!
Brick (2005) is a classic-style film noir set in a contemporary high school starring rich kids, average kids, and their drug habit. Starring Joshua Gordon-Levitt (The Lookout) in yet another role that makes you wish we saw more of him, Brick soars on the strength of its excellent editing, beautiful and sharp camera work, and a script that makes excellent use of anachronism by having high school seniors talk like characters out of a Dashiell Hammet novel. It sounds like a gimmick, but in these hands it's anything but.
(Dashiell who? Look him up; I guarantee you've heard of his work.)
And for those of you who still think that because film noir is an old style it must be pretty tame, be assured that the only reason you'll see things in Brick that you wouldn't see in a classic noir is only because it couldn't get past the censors fifty years ago.
I, film geek, proclaim that Brick is brilliant, and hope that all involved with it know just how good they are at their jobs.
A: A film for film buffs!
Brick (2005) is a classic-style film noir set in a contemporary high school starring rich kids, average kids, and their drug habit. Starring Joshua Gordon-Levitt (The Lookout) in yet another role that makes you wish we saw more of him, Brick soars on the strength of its excellent editing, beautiful and sharp camera work, and a script that makes excellent use of anachronism by having high school seniors talk like characters out of a Dashiell Hammet novel. It sounds like a gimmick, but in these hands it's anything but.
(Dashiell who? Look him up; I guarantee you've heard of his work.)
And for those of you who still think that because film noir is an old style it must be pretty tame, be assured that the only reason you'll see things in Brick that you wouldn't see in a classic noir is only because it couldn't get past the censors fifty years ago.
I, film geek, proclaim that Brick is brilliant, and hope that all involved with it know just how good they are at their jobs.
Friday, April 25, 2008
James Mason + Herbert Lom = Michael Emerson?
Normally, I don't bother dabbling in theories about Lost. I prefer to sit back and just enjoy letting the show unfold and play out without wracking my brain for maybes - and this season, that's more enjoyable than ever. They've really stepped things up. As a tight sci-fi serial, it's 100% back on track, and I haven't enjoyed it this much since the first half of season 2. That's not to say I don't think about it as it unfolds; there are an awful lot of apparent subtexts to Lost that shape and strengthen the tale.
But something hit home during last night's episode, "The Shape of Things to Come". As villain/hero/mastermind Ben Linus (the fantastic Michael Emerson) was sitting at his piano, I had an epiphany (maybe) that may (or may not) have been under my nose all along: Ben is Captain Nemo!
Think about it, and use the Nemo from both 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and The Mysterious Island. There are lots of parallels here. The Nautilus is Nemo's dream machine, his utopia that can't be trusted in anyone else's hands. He and his crew of fiercely loyal escaped slaves will do anything to prevent it from falling into those hands. Nemo is calculating and thoughtful, but it is the murder of his wife and son (Rousseau and Alex?) at the hands of slavers, and the memory thereof, that drives him mad. He abhors violence, but he will kill to preserve the Nautilus and he isn't afraid to get his hands dirty (the nightstick Ben carries in London as his weapon of choice is one of the least bloody ways to kill a man, and it is also an extremely personal weapon as it requires getting right up close). Nemo's life is the preservation of the Nautilus and, later, the preservation of his mysterious island - and we see him sacrifice his life to finally gain each. The shape of things to come?
The fun and frustrating thing about Lost is, of course, the possibility that this is entirely meaningless, that there really aren't these subtexts. I suppose it all depends how much trust and skill you attribute to Cuse, Lindelof, and Abrams, and whether your enjoyment of art is based on what the artist is really saying or how you read it personally. For those of you who do enjoy (conspiracy?) theories, I've stumbled across something quite enjoyable, Doc Jensen's Entertainment Weekly Lost column. The Doc doesn't seem to leave any theory unturned, so if that sort of thing floats your boat, this should be plenty fun.
But something hit home during last night's episode, "The Shape of Things to Come". As villain/hero/mastermind Ben Linus (the fantastic Michael Emerson) was sitting at his piano, I had an epiphany (maybe) that may (or may not) have been under my nose all along: Ben is Captain Nemo!
Think about it, and use the Nemo from both 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and The Mysterious Island. There are lots of parallels here. The Nautilus is Nemo's dream machine, his utopia that can't be trusted in anyone else's hands. He and his crew of fiercely loyal escaped slaves will do anything to prevent it from falling into those hands. Nemo is calculating and thoughtful, but it is the murder of his wife and son (Rousseau and Alex?) at the hands of slavers, and the memory thereof, that drives him mad. He abhors violence, but he will kill to preserve the Nautilus and he isn't afraid to get his hands dirty (the nightstick Ben carries in London as his weapon of choice is one of the least bloody ways to kill a man, and it is also an extremely personal weapon as it requires getting right up close). Nemo's life is the preservation of the Nautilus and, later, the preservation of his mysterious island - and we see him sacrifice his life to finally gain each. The shape of things to come?
The fun and frustrating thing about Lost is, of course, the possibility that this is entirely meaningless, that there really aren't these subtexts. I suppose it all depends how much trust and skill you attribute to Cuse, Lindelof, and Abrams, and whether your enjoyment of art is based on what the artist is really saying or how you read it personally. For those of you who do enjoy (conspiracy?) theories, I've stumbled across something quite enjoyable, Doc Jensen's Entertainment Weekly Lost column. The Doc doesn't seem to leave any theory unturned, so if that sort of thing floats your boat, this should be plenty fun.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Yesterday's News
Ah, the Toronto Star - that bastion of daily life in the GTA, and my favourite source of very old information trying to be passed off as new and relevatory.
The Star's had some real doozys of "well, THAT's nothing new!" before (a recent full-page headline exposing how strip mining is bad for the environment comes to mind), and Wednesday's paper was no exception. The entertainment section front page features an article about a new documentary called Passages, regarding Sir John Franklin's ill-fated late 19th-century expedition to discover the Northwest Passage. Sounds all well and good so far; the story of Franklin's final expedition is a fascinating one, and should make a good documentary subject, no?
I'm sure the film is fine, but that article was, for lack of a better word, ignorant, as columnist Martin Knelman tried to expose the findings of the film as new and a "stunning revelation". The controversy surrounding Franklin's expedition is that, for over a hundred years, Britain maintained that his voyage was successful - there's a monument in Westminister Abbey to that effect - and that he and his crew were murdered and eaten by the Inuit. Passages chronicles the adventure of Hudson's Bay employee John Rae, who eventually did find the Northwest Passage, and early on discovered the truth of Franklin's fate. When he returned to Britain, imperialism was at peak levels and no one would believe this upstart outsider spewing heresy about the noble Sir John and his men going mad and eating each other.
My point is, due to how well-preserved bodies are in the Arctic, the world at large has had proof for a very long time that Franklin's expedition, trapped in ice, died from a combination of lead poisoning (from the cans their food was packed it) and scurvy, and the ones who didn't die quickly from poisoning suffered the other key effect of lead poisoning, being insanity, and started killing each other and eating them in desperate last-ditch attempts at survival. And some, as was unfortunately common with failed expeditions, probably started committing cannibalism before madness set in.
But what really caught my indignant disbelief at Mr. Knelman and his editor trying to pass off the Inuit innocence in the Franklin deaths as stunning and new is the fact that, around the age of 9 or so, I had a Scholastic book that combined a dramatization of the voyage with photos of the exhumation and investigation of the bodies, and clearly explained that they had all died of a combination of scurvy, lead, and starvation. Being a Scholastic one, they left out the cannibalism part, but my point is, I knew 15 years ago as a little girl that the Inuit didn't murder the Franklin expedition, and many other people knew earlier than that. It's not news. It's possible to convey information and write a good article about a past event without trying to be sensational and, dare I say it, false.
And I wish the Star would get off its lazy arse and print some real information for once. Or, at least, print it properly, without the bells and whistles that teeter dangerously across the line of hack journalism. The editor is just as much to blame as the columnist.
The Star's had some real doozys of "well, THAT's nothing new!" before (a recent full-page headline exposing how strip mining is bad for the environment comes to mind), and Wednesday's paper was no exception. The entertainment section front page features an article about a new documentary called Passages, regarding Sir John Franklin's ill-fated late 19th-century expedition to discover the Northwest Passage. Sounds all well and good so far; the story of Franklin's final expedition is a fascinating one, and should make a good documentary subject, no?
I'm sure the film is fine, but that article was, for lack of a better word, ignorant, as columnist Martin Knelman tried to expose the findings of the film as new and a "stunning revelation". The controversy surrounding Franklin's expedition is that, for over a hundred years, Britain maintained that his voyage was successful - there's a monument in Westminister Abbey to that effect - and that he and his crew were murdered and eaten by the Inuit. Passages chronicles the adventure of Hudson's Bay employee John Rae, who eventually did find the Northwest Passage, and early on discovered the truth of Franklin's fate. When he returned to Britain, imperialism was at peak levels and no one would believe this upstart outsider spewing heresy about the noble Sir John and his men going mad and eating each other.
My point is, due to how well-preserved bodies are in the Arctic, the world at large has had proof for a very long time that Franklin's expedition, trapped in ice, died from a combination of lead poisoning (from the cans their food was packed it) and scurvy, and the ones who didn't die quickly from poisoning suffered the other key effect of lead poisoning, being insanity, and started killing each other and eating them in desperate last-ditch attempts at survival. And some, as was unfortunately common with failed expeditions, probably started committing cannibalism before madness set in.
But what really caught my indignant disbelief at Mr. Knelman and his editor trying to pass off the Inuit innocence in the Franklin deaths as stunning and new is the fact that, around the age of 9 or so, I had a Scholastic book that combined a dramatization of the voyage with photos of the exhumation and investigation of the bodies, and clearly explained that they had all died of a combination of scurvy, lead, and starvation. Being a Scholastic one, they left out the cannibalism part, but my point is, I knew 15 years ago as a little girl that the Inuit didn't murder the Franklin expedition, and many other people knew earlier than that. It's not news. It's possible to convey information and write a good article about a past event without trying to be sensational and, dare I say it, false.
And I wish the Star would get off its lazy arse and print some real information for once. Or, at least, print it properly, without the bells and whistles that teeter dangerously across the line of hack journalism. The editor is just as much to blame as the columnist.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
McRomance! Want some fries with that shake? Spoilers!
Let make one thing perfectly clear: I don't hate surrealism. In fact, I'm quite fond of it; it can be very interesting. What I do hate is when people use surrealism in lieu of content, and that is what I think writer Charlie Kaufman and director Michel Gondry did with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Think of this movie as a mash-up between Garden State and a reverse version of or Total Recall or Strange Days. The bare bones of the plot involve Joel (Jim Carrey) suffering a vicious break-up with his girlfriend of two years, Clementine (Kate Winslet). Clementine is, amongst other negatives, extremely impulsive, and immediately decides to undergo a procedure to erase all memories of Joel from her mind so that she can literally forget about him and move on. When Joel, still mourning the fresh loss, accidentally finds out what she's done, pain and revenge drive him to do the same. Most of the film takes place in Joel's mind during his mind-wipe, and as he relives some of the good memories of Clementine he decides that he doesn't want to lose them. Unfortunately, being heavily sedated and in the process of having his brain damaged (as Tom Wilkinson's doctor character admits in the film's best line), there's no way for him to communicate this. All he can do is cling to his memory Clementine, and try to hide her somewhere the mind-wipe can't go...
There are several interesting and mostly tragic issues in play here. The primary one is that Kate Winslet's physical beauty is the only thing remotely attractive about Clementine. She is thoroughly impulsive, narcissistic, addicted to "the moment", doesn't think before she speaks, an alcoholic, and probably some form of drug addict as, several times when we see her agitated, she complains that she feels like her skin's crawling off. With all the other negatives this girl's racked up, I'm inclined to not believe this is a figure of speech. Jim Carrey's Joel has his own issues - he's emotionally stunted when it comes to making human connections (not just love connections), uses sarcasm as his weapon of choice, and suffers from a long history of humiliation in various forms. In terms of character, he's fairly quiet and gentle, and likes to keep things simple and not rock the boat. All this to say that Joel and Clementine are completely incompatible - but Joel finds her exciting (at first), and what attracts Clementine to Joel is never really explained. Maybe she likes the attention, maybe she gets a thrill from getting boring people to be impulsive, maybe, as Joel accuses her in the fight that causes her to get her memory wiped, she really does just sleep with people to get them to like her. Because we are shown such potent negative aspects of their relationship, and the only cause we are given for them having lasted two years is that Joel found her exciting, it feels like a very weak basis for a story. When one of Joel's neighbours, noting that he hasn't made any Valentine's plans with Clementine yet, jokes that he'll wind up having to take her for fast food and having a "McRomance", he's not far off the mark.
After that biggie, I also felt the film got bogged down a lot by too much surrealism and not enough substance - at an average 108 running time, this film feels long. I suppose the point of having the technicians who do the actual mind wipe be completely irresponsible, unethical, stoners was to emphasize the inherent irresponsibility of having ones memory wiped in the first place, but their significant amount of screen-time made it irritating and overdone. But hey, it was pretty surreal, having stoned people wander around Joel's apartment eating his food and drinking all his booze while he was trapped in his mind!
Okay, I'm bashing the over-use of surrealism a lot here, so for the sake of fairness I should point out that as a film, it's probably the most skillful surrealism you'll ever see. Michel Gondry is known mostly for directing music videos for Bjork and Radiohead, and it shows. The visuals and editing are sheer genius and without fault. They're almost (for some people, absolutely) enough to make the film worth sitting through and even watching again. I have to wonder how much of the deep love and gushing feedback for this film has to do with the visuals.
Other pluses include Jim Carrey using his supreme control of his face and body for good and not evil. He dipped his toes in the dramatic pond with The Truman Show, proved himself a big fish with Man on the Moon, and he does not disappoint here.
But overall, for a script from a writer who expresses great interest in exploring the human psyche (Kaufman also penned Being John Malkovich and Adaptation), this story doesn't do a whole lot of exploring. This tale has a lot to do with the idea that people don't change. Joel and Clementine didn't succeed in changing each other while they were together, and, as evidenced by their immediate re-attraction, didn't change by forgetting each other either. Earlier in the film, we see someone else unaware of a prior memory wipe make the same mistake that led them to forget in the first place - in other words, a leopard doesn't change his spots. Which is an idea that pisses me off, because there is sufficient evidence in both secular and religious psychology (and everyday life) that people can change - a lot of them just refuse to. Asserting that they can't just isn't going to help anyone. But none of this really matters, because Kaufman never gets into the meat of these matters anyways - he makes a few direct statements and then lets the visuals do the talking, but the visuals are speaking a whole other language. It kind of winds up being an extreme perversion of the idea that love covers a multitude of sins. I can't help but compare Kaufman's work to Joel and Ethan Coen, whose scripts have universally dealt with the issue of whether or not people can or should change. Same essential theme of Eternal Sunshine, but name any Coen-written film and the theme will have been executed in a far more effective and interesting manner.
I think this movie is a mess of could've-beens and sloppiness. Plus, the fact that the woman being pined after is about as unappealing as a person can get makes me not care in the slightest about Joel's quest for her. A lot of people, like the very enthusiastic Blockbuster clerk who rang it up for me and any critic within 200 meters, love this movie, and a lot of them would probably say that I didn't get it. I suppose they'd be right.
Think of this movie as a mash-up between Garden State and a reverse version of or Total Recall or Strange Days. The bare bones of the plot involve Joel (Jim Carrey) suffering a vicious break-up with his girlfriend of two years, Clementine (Kate Winslet). Clementine is, amongst other negatives, extremely impulsive, and immediately decides to undergo a procedure to erase all memories of Joel from her mind so that she can literally forget about him and move on. When Joel, still mourning the fresh loss, accidentally finds out what she's done, pain and revenge drive him to do the same. Most of the film takes place in Joel's mind during his mind-wipe, and as he relives some of the good memories of Clementine he decides that he doesn't want to lose them. Unfortunately, being heavily sedated and in the process of having his brain damaged (as Tom Wilkinson's doctor character admits in the film's best line), there's no way for him to communicate this. All he can do is cling to his memory Clementine, and try to hide her somewhere the mind-wipe can't go...
There are several interesting and mostly tragic issues in play here. The primary one is that Kate Winslet's physical beauty is the only thing remotely attractive about Clementine. She is thoroughly impulsive, narcissistic, addicted to "the moment", doesn't think before she speaks, an alcoholic, and probably some form of drug addict as, several times when we see her agitated, she complains that she feels like her skin's crawling off. With all the other negatives this girl's racked up, I'm inclined to not believe this is a figure of speech. Jim Carrey's Joel has his own issues - he's emotionally stunted when it comes to making human connections (not just love connections), uses sarcasm as his weapon of choice, and suffers from a long history of humiliation in various forms. In terms of character, he's fairly quiet and gentle, and likes to keep things simple and not rock the boat. All this to say that Joel and Clementine are completely incompatible - but Joel finds her exciting (at first), and what attracts Clementine to Joel is never really explained. Maybe she likes the attention, maybe she gets a thrill from getting boring people to be impulsive, maybe, as Joel accuses her in the fight that causes her to get her memory wiped, she really does just sleep with people to get them to like her. Because we are shown such potent negative aspects of their relationship, and the only cause we are given for them having lasted two years is that Joel found her exciting, it feels like a very weak basis for a story. When one of Joel's neighbours, noting that he hasn't made any Valentine's plans with Clementine yet, jokes that he'll wind up having to take her for fast food and having a "McRomance", he's not far off the mark.
After that biggie, I also felt the film got bogged down a lot by too much surrealism and not enough substance - at an average 108 running time, this film feels long. I suppose the point of having the technicians who do the actual mind wipe be completely irresponsible, unethical, stoners was to emphasize the inherent irresponsibility of having ones memory wiped in the first place, but their significant amount of screen-time made it irritating and overdone. But hey, it was pretty surreal, having stoned people wander around Joel's apartment eating his food and drinking all his booze while he was trapped in his mind!
Okay, I'm bashing the over-use of surrealism a lot here, so for the sake of fairness I should point out that as a film, it's probably the most skillful surrealism you'll ever see. Michel Gondry is known mostly for directing music videos for Bjork and Radiohead, and it shows. The visuals and editing are sheer genius and without fault. They're almost (for some people, absolutely) enough to make the film worth sitting through and even watching again. I have to wonder how much of the deep love and gushing feedback for this film has to do with the visuals.
Other pluses include Jim Carrey using his supreme control of his face and body for good and not evil. He dipped his toes in the dramatic pond with The Truman Show, proved himself a big fish with Man on the Moon, and he does not disappoint here.
But overall, for a script from a writer who expresses great interest in exploring the human psyche (Kaufman also penned Being John Malkovich and Adaptation), this story doesn't do a whole lot of exploring. This tale has a lot to do with the idea that people don't change. Joel and Clementine didn't succeed in changing each other while they were together, and, as evidenced by their immediate re-attraction, didn't change by forgetting each other either. Earlier in the film, we see someone else unaware of a prior memory wipe make the same mistake that led them to forget in the first place - in other words, a leopard doesn't change his spots. Which is an idea that pisses me off, because there is sufficient evidence in both secular and religious psychology (and everyday life) that people can change - a lot of them just refuse to. Asserting that they can't just isn't going to help anyone. But none of this really matters, because Kaufman never gets into the meat of these matters anyways - he makes a few direct statements and then lets the visuals do the talking, but the visuals are speaking a whole other language. It kind of winds up being an extreme perversion of the idea that love covers a multitude of sins. I can't help but compare Kaufman's work to Joel and Ethan Coen, whose scripts have universally dealt with the issue of whether or not people can or should change. Same essential theme of Eternal Sunshine, but name any Coen-written film and the theme will have been executed in a far more effective and interesting manner.
I think this movie is a mess of could've-beens and sloppiness. Plus, the fact that the woman being pined after is about as unappealing as a person can get makes me not care in the slightest about Joel's quest for her. A lot of people, like the very enthusiastic Blockbuster clerk who rang it up for me and any critic within 200 meters, love this movie, and a lot of them would probably say that I didn't get it. I suppose they'd be right.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Marriage is an adventure
Having married young, a lot of people ask me Elly, what's it like being married? And I tell them, it's half wild adventures of love and companionship, and half Trapped in the Drive-Thru.
The Legend of Drunken Master
Do you like clowns? Comedic drama? International superstars setting themselves on fire? Than this is the film for you!
This take on Wong Fei-Hung, Chinese national hero and leader of the Boxer rebellion, comes courtesy of first-rate clown Jackie Chan. Chan plays Wong as a young man who, for no particular reason and against his father's wishes, dabbles in the extremely odd martial-arts style known as drunken boxing. Since alcohol loosens the limbs and inhibitions, and dulls the body to pain, drunken-style is a bit of a fringe curiosity, but it's extremely impressive to watch, and Chan is great at it - these being the only reasons I can discern that he made a whole film about Wong Fei-Hung using it. But as far as gratuitous comedies go, this is a good one! Jackie Chan is a strong comedic actor and excellent martial artist/stuntman, and his Jackie Chan's Stuntman Club join him for this outing, with what's probably the best mob stuntwork around. Plus, the blooper reel for the end credits shows that he really did fall on and crawl across a bed of flaming coals, and deliberately catch on fire several other times. Most insane stunt ever. Plus, the supporting cast is strong, especially the final-fight villain who demonstrates why Chun-Li of Street Fighter fame isn't actually as ridiculous a character as she looks. Yes, people really can kick like that. Boy, can they ever kick.
Otherwise, it's a pretty typical Chinese comedy, with all slapstick, chronic liar characters, good-natured rivals, and gags that to us last way too long but to the Chinese are just right. Also, the final-fight villain looks like the Chinese version of a Korean pastor I know, so that was kind of weird. Look for a blink-and-you'll-miss-him appearance from Andy Lau of Infernal Affairs, and if anyone can tell me why the final-fight villain's young accomplice is so familiar, that would be greatly appreciated.
The bottom line is, if you want a good, silly night at home packed with impressive martial arts and flaming stars, this is a good pick. Be warned, there were two Jackie Chan films released in the U.S. as The Legend of Drunken Master - one from 1978 and one from 1994. I watched the 1994 film; couldn't tell you what the older one is like.
Next on the list: Intolerable Cruelty.
This take on Wong Fei-Hung, Chinese national hero and leader of the Boxer rebellion, comes courtesy of first-rate clown Jackie Chan. Chan plays Wong as a young man who, for no particular reason and against his father's wishes, dabbles in the extremely odd martial-arts style known as drunken boxing. Since alcohol loosens the limbs and inhibitions, and dulls the body to pain, drunken-style is a bit of a fringe curiosity, but it's extremely impressive to watch, and Chan is great at it - these being the only reasons I can discern that he made a whole film about Wong Fei-Hung using it. But as far as gratuitous comedies go, this is a good one! Jackie Chan is a strong comedic actor and excellent martial artist/stuntman, and his Jackie Chan's Stuntman Club join him for this outing, with what's probably the best mob stuntwork around. Plus, the blooper reel for the end credits shows that he really did fall on and crawl across a bed of flaming coals, and deliberately catch on fire several other times. Most insane stunt ever. Plus, the supporting cast is strong, especially the final-fight villain who demonstrates why Chun-Li of Street Fighter fame isn't actually as ridiculous a character as she looks. Yes, people really can kick like that. Boy, can they ever kick.
Otherwise, it's a pretty typical Chinese comedy, with all slapstick, chronic liar characters, good-natured rivals, and gags that to us last way too long but to the Chinese are just right. Also, the final-fight villain looks like the Chinese version of a Korean pastor I know, so that was kind of weird. Look for a blink-and-you'll-miss-him appearance from Andy Lau of Infernal Affairs, and if anyone can tell me why the final-fight villain's young accomplice is so familiar, that would be greatly appreciated.
The bottom line is, if you want a good, silly night at home packed with impressive martial arts and flaming stars, this is a good pick. Be warned, there were two Jackie Chan films released in the U.S. as The Legend of Drunken Master - one from 1978 and one from 1994. I watched the 1994 film; couldn't tell you what the older one is like.
Next on the list: Intolerable Cruelty.
Who needs experts when we've got EXPERTS?
Here are excerpts from an article in today's National Post:
As well, it just seems like common sense that users of a potent drug, especially a hormonal drug, should be required to speak to a pharmacist before using it. Ms. Cooper and Dr. Soon, quoted in the article above, are absolutely right to be concerned that unrestricted access to Plan B is in no way in women's best interests. Sure, it increases the feeling of freedom, and no one likes the discomfort of discussing intimate medical matters with a pharmacist (or anyone, really), but common sense says that unfettered access to potent hormonal medications, especially when the patient is at risk for an underlying sexual disease, is not going to be beneficial for women's health. It's asking for more women, especially young ones, to drift further under the radar as they become free from advice and referrals to sexual health clinics and counseling, and taking morning-after contraceptives too late, as many users have tried to, can be detrimental to the woman's health and disastrous for the fetus.
Silly, silly, silly.
In other silly news, Edmonton is full of snow. Boy, am I not looking forward to moving. One thing about southern Ontario doesn't suck: snow isn't much of an issue here. Especially not at the end of April.
An expert advisory committee has urged that the single-dose version of Plan B be available off the shelf at pharmacies, without women having to consult a pharmacist first. The recommendation would mean people could buy emergency contraceptives much the way they can Aspirin or vitamins.The "expert advisory committee" in question is the National Drug Scheduling Advisory committee, which recommended the change of rules for Plan B to the National Association of Pharmacy Regulatory Authorities (who make the final decision regarding how drugs are sold in pharmacies) after an application from Paladin Labs Inc., who manufactures the drug. It's not exactly a well-kept secret that pharmaceutical companies don't generally push for less restrictions on access out of concern for their clients. Case in point, the assorted manufacturers of AIDS medications who continue to influence more restrictions on their products, which have led to a disastrous lack of access to medicine in Africa and assorted third-world nations. Increased access for third-world clients doesn't equal more profits; increased access for Canadian clients does. So I'm not inclined to believe the best of Paladin Labs' motives for application.
A women's group has applauded the recommendation as a way to increase access to the [morning after] pill, but pharmacists are objecting, saying Plan B customers would miss out on the invaluable information and advice druggists currently provide.
[Janet Cooper of the Canadian Pharmacist's Association] said pharmacists now counsel Plan B consumers on obtaining regular contraceptives and practicing safe sex and sometimes refer them to sexual health clinics. Pharmacists also find that about a third of potential customers do not need the pill because their regular birth control would have protected them, or they are too late for it to work, Ms. Cooper said.
Others, though, say easier access would get the pill to more women who need it. Advocacy groups have long complained that some pharmacists are effectively scaring off women by asking overly intimate questions of Plan B buyers.
[Dr. Judith Soon of the University of British Columbia] said there is no evidence yet that requiring a woman to talk to a pharmacist before buying the pill does, in fact, deter some from taking advantage of the drug. [...] In fact, the most important benefit of Plan B may be in introducing women to the health-care system, she said. No research has yet shown the pill reduces the number of abortion or teen pregnancies, as advocates have long hoped...
As well, it just seems like common sense that users of a potent drug, especially a hormonal drug, should be required to speak to a pharmacist before using it. Ms. Cooper and Dr. Soon, quoted in the article above, are absolutely right to be concerned that unrestricted access to Plan B is in no way in women's best interests. Sure, it increases the feeling of freedom, and no one likes the discomfort of discussing intimate medical matters with a pharmacist (or anyone, really), but common sense says that unfettered access to potent hormonal medications, especially when the patient is at risk for an underlying sexual disease, is not going to be beneficial for women's health. It's asking for more women, especially young ones, to drift further under the radar as they become free from advice and referrals to sexual health clinics and counseling, and taking morning-after contraceptives too late, as many users have tried to, can be detrimental to the woman's health and disastrous for the fetus.
Silly, silly, silly.
In other silly news, Edmonton is full of snow. Boy, am I not looking forward to moving. One thing about southern Ontario doesn't suck: snow isn't much of an issue here. Especially not at the end of April.
Monday, April 21, 2008
If I ain't broke, don't fix me
Caught this article on CNN about a new TV movie exploring the controversy in the deaf community surrounding cochlear implants. Normally, I can't be bothered with TV movies, but this caught my eye because of the underlying "don't fix me" issue. While many deaf people see cochlear implants - an in-ear device that helps hearing - as a welcome opportunity and a joy, many others, especially those who were born deaf, see them as a rejection of deaf culture, and an insulting statement that they are broken and not normal and need fixing.
I've cruised a few deaf bloggers commenting on this film, but none of them have answered my main questions. First, I wonder what people who reject cochlear implants think of people born with missing or underdeveloped limbs who get prosthetics - are those people being unethical and untrue to themselves? Should they be told to reject the opportunities prosthetic limbs provide?
And what about transsexuals? It's been quite some time since gender identity disorders were removed from the DSM-IV. Now, our culture affirms people who believe they were born in the wrong body. We are told to confirm to them that they are freaks of nature, that they are mistakes, but that with surgery we can fix them and make them the way they were meant to be. I think this affirmation is one of the most tragic consequences of tolerance.
As neither deaf nor and amputee nor having had a gender identity disorder, I can't speak for either group, or pass judgment on how they view the ethics of treatment. But I can be confused, and a little depressed. I'd love to hear from someone with an intimate knowledge of these lives, and where they stand on the issue of "fixing".
I've cruised a few deaf bloggers commenting on this film, but none of them have answered my main questions. First, I wonder what people who reject cochlear implants think of people born with missing or underdeveloped limbs who get prosthetics - are those people being unethical and untrue to themselves? Should they be told to reject the opportunities prosthetic limbs provide?
And what about transsexuals? It's been quite some time since gender identity disorders were removed from the DSM-IV. Now, our culture affirms people who believe they were born in the wrong body. We are told to confirm to them that they are freaks of nature, that they are mistakes, but that with surgery we can fix them and make them the way they were meant to be. I think this affirmation is one of the most tragic consequences of tolerance.
As neither deaf nor and amputee nor having had a gender identity disorder, I can't speak for either group, or pass judgment on how they view the ethics of treatment. But I can be confused, and a little depressed. I'd love to hear from someone with an intimate knowledge of these lives, and where they stand on the issue of "fixing".
Saturday, April 19, 2008
woof woof, bang bang
Had a very surreal experience at blockbuster this evening. It's not uncommon for me to witness someone renting an extremely kid-unfriendly film for their kids (I once saw a grandma let her little tyke get Sin City; when I bought Pan's Labyrinth the clerk lamented to me how people were trying to rent it for their five-year-olds), but this was the first time I got to see the other side of the story.
As I was paying for my most fabulous rentals (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Intolerable Cruelty, and The Legend of Drunken Master), two boys got in line behind me who couldn't have been more than twelve years old. And they were talking about how they play Assassin's Creed and Medal of Honor, a far too common and always a depressing conversation to overhear. But - and this was the surreal part - the movie they wanted to rent that night was....Underdog. Out of all the movies at Blockbuster that don't have an 18+ sticker, which is most - those kids could've rented Alien, Shaun of the Dead, or even one of the many soft-core porn titles snuck into the drama section - these kids playing extremely adult first-person shooters wanted to see a kid's flick.
It was a startling and potent reminder that, regardless of whatever influences in our society encourage (like video games) or force (like child labour in Britain 100 years ago) kids to grow up too fast, they're still just children. They think like children, they act like children, they desire things that children desire, like to be entertained by a flying, talking, superhero dog. This experience was jolting and it gave me lots of hope to be reminded that kids haven't changed as much as I think they have.
And I'll let you know what I thought of those films.
As I was paying for my most fabulous rentals (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Intolerable Cruelty, and The Legend of Drunken Master), two boys got in line behind me who couldn't have been more than twelve years old. And they were talking about how they play Assassin's Creed and Medal of Honor, a far too common and always a depressing conversation to overhear. But - and this was the surreal part - the movie they wanted to rent that night was....Underdog. Out of all the movies at Blockbuster that don't have an 18+ sticker, which is most - those kids could've rented Alien, Shaun of the Dead, or even one of the many soft-core porn titles snuck into the drama section - these kids playing extremely adult first-person shooters wanted to see a kid's flick.
It was a startling and potent reminder that, regardless of whatever influences in our society encourage (like video games) or force (like child labour in Britain 100 years ago) kids to grow up too fast, they're still just children. They think like children, they act like children, they desire things that children desire, like to be entertained by a flying, talking, superhero dog. This experience was jolting and it gave me lots of hope to be reminded that kids haven't changed as much as I think they have.
And I'll let you know what I thought of those films.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Indiana Jones and the Monkey King?
Here's a fun little interview from Entertainment Weekly with Spielberg and Lucas in the same room, discussing the upcoming Indiana Jones film. Say it with me: May 22!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
The Lookout
Fox Searchlight sure is a weird studio. They've handled stateside distribution for some really solid, interesting films - Once, In America, 28 Days Later, and much more - but, with the exception of 28 Days and Little Miss Sunshine (which I didn't include on the "solid, interesting" films list because it is neither), don't spend a lot of money promoting them. Raise your hand if you've heard of The Lookout. Yeah, I thought so.
The Lookout is a smart, honest, thoroughly engaging project. Chris "Slapshot" Pratt (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Brick) is a small-town high school hockey hero whose life is transformed by a devastating car accident on his last night of school. The resulting massive head trauma causes Chris to lose his ability to sequence. Sequencing is something most people give no thought to - it simply refers to how we string actions together. Loss of sequencing means Chris needs to be told how to do everything, not because he can't do it, but because he can't figure out how. For example, when his roommate (Jeff Daniels) can't make it home in time to prepare supper, he leaves Chris a message that goes something like this: take a can of tomatoes off the shelf. Open it using the can opener. Pour it into the pot. Turn on the stove....all the things that used to come naturally.
Four years after the accident, Chris keeps his life in order with a notebook. He attends a life skills class every afternoon to help him re-gain his sequencing. At night, he holds a janitorial job at a bank. Though an awkward terms with his family since the accident, Chris is not isolated. He gets along well with his roommate Lewis, an older blind man who takes an active role in encouraging him in his recovery. Every night at the bank, a cop stops by to check up on Chris, bring him a snack, and hang out and talk for a bit. But even though he stops in for a non-alcoholic beer at the local bar every night, Chris is no longer able to carry out casual conversations, and so has no friends his own age - thus setting the stage for his vulnerability to being taken advantage of, as cocky bad boy Gary (Matthew Goode - not the singer) approaches Chris and enlists his help in robbing the bank he works at by both playing to and taking advantage of his feelings of powerlessness. On the night of the robbery, Chris gets scared and tries to back out, which is when Gary turns mean, and everything starts getting really bad...
The Lookout shines on the strength of the normal dialogue and behaviour of its characters, and the natural skill of its actors. I don't know what Joseph Gordon-Levitt wants from his acting career, but with a more aggressive agent I believe he could be the next Leonardo DiCaprio; he's that good. Matthew Goode's villain is beautifully restrained, and I'm really looking forward to seeing him as Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias in the upcoming screen adaptation of Watchmen. Even the supporting actors, and the way their characters are written, are strong. Especially standing out is Sergio Di Zio as Deputy Ted, a good-natured, kind of goofy guy, who is delivered from caricature by showing himself later in the film to actually be competent as a cop.
The Lookout is available for rent, but well worth the buy. We found it for $6.99 in the cheap bin at Blockbuster; you should all be so lucky.
The Lookout is a smart, honest, thoroughly engaging project. Chris "Slapshot" Pratt (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Brick) is a small-town high school hockey hero whose life is transformed by a devastating car accident on his last night of school. The resulting massive head trauma causes Chris to lose his ability to sequence. Sequencing is something most people give no thought to - it simply refers to how we string actions together. Loss of sequencing means Chris needs to be told how to do everything, not because he can't do it, but because he can't figure out how. For example, when his roommate (Jeff Daniels) can't make it home in time to prepare supper, he leaves Chris a message that goes something like this: take a can of tomatoes off the shelf. Open it using the can opener. Pour it into the pot. Turn on the stove....all the things that used to come naturally.
Four years after the accident, Chris keeps his life in order with a notebook. He attends a life skills class every afternoon to help him re-gain his sequencing. At night, he holds a janitorial job at a bank. Though an awkward terms with his family since the accident, Chris is not isolated. He gets along well with his roommate Lewis, an older blind man who takes an active role in encouraging him in his recovery. Every night at the bank, a cop stops by to check up on Chris, bring him a snack, and hang out and talk for a bit. But even though he stops in for a non-alcoholic beer at the local bar every night, Chris is no longer able to carry out casual conversations, and so has no friends his own age - thus setting the stage for his vulnerability to being taken advantage of, as cocky bad boy Gary (Matthew Goode - not the singer) approaches Chris and enlists his help in robbing the bank he works at by both playing to and taking advantage of his feelings of powerlessness. On the night of the robbery, Chris gets scared and tries to back out, which is when Gary turns mean, and everything starts getting really bad...
The Lookout shines on the strength of the normal dialogue and behaviour of its characters, and the natural skill of its actors. I don't know what Joseph Gordon-Levitt wants from his acting career, but with a more aggressive agent I believe he could be the next Leonardo DiCaprio; he's that good. Matthew Goode's villain is beautifully restrained, and I'm really looking forward to seeing him as Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias in the upcoming screen adaptation of Watchmen. Even the supporting actors, and the way their characters are written, are strong. Especially standing out is Sergio Di Zio as Deputy Ted, a good-natured, kind of goofy guy, who is delivered from caricature by showing himself later in the film to actually be competent as a cop.
The Lookout is available for rent, but well worth the buy. We found it for $6.99 in the cheap bin at Blockbuster; you should all be so lucky.
Hold me.
There comes a time in every woman's life when she wakes up one morning, reads the news, and says, why? Why this? Why now? Hold me, darling. I don't know if I can bear it.
Seriously, don't you love it when people spend a lot of time and money on things that are pointless? I don't doubt Spielberg can do something good here, but still.
*Clarification: I'm distressed not because I think Ghost in the Shell is pointless - I love it. It's absolutely brilliant. What I'm distressed about is that there's no need for a live-action version. It's almost as useless as the upcoming official re-make of The Seven Samurai - one of the greatest films ever made. As they say, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
(FROM VARIETY) – DreamWorks has acquired rights to the Japanese manga Ghost in the Shell and plans to develop it into a live-action feature. Steven Spielberg, who took personal interest in the property, is said to have played an integral role in the deal. The story is about a member of a covert ops unit of the Japanese National Public Safety Commission that specializes in fighting technology-related crime. Masamune Shirow's Ghost in the Shell was first published in 1989 and has gone on to spawn two additional manga editions, three anime films, an anime TV series, and three videogames. The second anime, Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence, was released in the U.S. by DreamWorks in 2004.
Seriously, don't you love it when people spend a lot of time and money on things that are pointless? I don't doubt Spielberg can do something good here, but still.
*Clarification: I'm distressed not because I think Ghost in the Shell is pointless - I love it. It's absolutely brilliant. What I'm distressed about is that there's no need for a live-action version. It's almost as useless as the upcoming official re-make of The Seven Samurai - one of the greatest films ever made. As they say, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Look, I need to know what I stand to win.
Warning: the following post is more commentary than review. So if you haven't seen No Country For Old Men, reading this may mean little and spoil much. The ending will be discussed in detail.
Joel and Ethan Coen's latest outing has all the trademarks we've come to expect from their work: an opening narration, thoughtful dialogue, the pursuit of money, little or no soundtrack, gorgeous camera work, a conclusion rather than an ending, and the foundational philosophy that this world we live in is thoroughly SNAFU...but we could change that, if only we weren't so blind.
It's 1980 in west Texas, and only five years since the Vietnam War irreversibly changed America's psyche. Llewellyn Moss (Josh Brolin) is a veteran with two tours under his belt and a seemingly new way of looking at the world. When he stumbles upon the massacre of a drug deal gone wrong, he also stumbles upon a suitcase with two million dollars, which he picks up and brings home - and promptly hides under the house, not telling his wife. Having left no traces of himself at the crime scene, it seems Moss will get away clean until, in the middle of the night, he wakes up and remembers that a dying man at the scene had begged him for water, which he didn't have at the time. Knowing that the man is probably already dead, but having the burden of conscience, he fills a jug and drives back out...and, in true Coen fashion, this good act of conscience and kindness sets in motion a course of events that will lead to blood and despair.
At first, I found Moss to be one of the Coen's more incomprehensible characters - I couldn't see his motive for clinging to the money, even when it put his life and his wife in jeopardy. The love of money, and its being the root of all kinds of evil, is a staple theme of Coen films, but such a love, or greed, or desperate need, isn't present in Moss. What is present, as my husband pointed out, are Moss's two tours in 'Nam, a war that was characterized by men not knowing why they were in that jungle, but that they were there, and as such they were going to see it through. That mentality of "seeing it through", whether or not it was in Moss before the war, is certainly in him now, and it is evident in him right from his character's introduction. It is a new reason for someone in a Coen film to follow the money, and it is as effective as it is tragic. Moss's Vietnam connection isn't a big deal in the script itself - it's barely mentioned - but it is an essential theme of his story, as we don't even see him die. His murder is impersonal, off-camera, not even given a confrontation or lead-up, and doesn't even involve Chiurgh - three quarters through the film, it just happens, and then we see his body - but not his dead face.
Rounding out the cast are Javier Bardem as psychopathic serial killer/hitman Anton Chiurgh and Tommy Lee Jones as Sheriff Ed Bell, who feels adrift in a world that seems new and incomprehensible to him. Bardem's Oscar win was well-deserved; Chiurgh is the most terrifying villain in my recent memory. Floating through life with dead eyes (except in four very significant instances, which I'll get to later) and killing men with a weapon used to slaughter cattle, Chiurgh is a man who's convinced himself that there are no decisions, only fate, and this philosophy is what justifies who lives and who dies. Fate is what Chiurgh clings to; as far as he's concerned, it does not fail him. Even at the end of the film, when another driver accidentally T-bones him, he makes no display of anger or violence: it was an accident. It was fate. It's not the driver's fault. He is consistent, and allows nothing and no one to shake that consistency. It is not permitted. Twice we see him insist on a coin toss to decide whether someone lives or dies - the first person wins, and Chiurgh walks out leaving him unharmed. The second refuses to call heads or tails, refuting the killer's insistence that "the coin decides" by saying that "the coin don't have no say. It's just you" - to which Chiurgh replies that he got there the same way the coin did, that is, by chance. Fate. We don't seem him kill this person, but the film suggests that they do not survive the encounter.
This is one of the times where life comes into Chiurgh's eyes, in the form of offense and anger at his worship of fate being challenged. A second time is similar, when a woman refuses to tell him where Moss works because of tenant confidentiality - he is visibly angered at being denied, but does not kill her as fate does not require it. A third time, we see him briefly in pain when he is cleaning buckshot out of his leg; a fourth time, which is really the first as it happens at the start of the film, we see him filled almost with ecstasy as he strangles the deputy to death, because who knows how long it's been since he actually killed a man the way one kills men, in such a personal, human fashion?
Chiurgh is a true psychopath - he is Dexter without the obedience training (and writers screwing with the symptoms of psychopathy to make Dexter more sympathetic by doing things like questioning his actions). Watching the scene where he catches up to Moss in a hotel, stops in front of Moss's door, than moves on only to turn the lights off in the hall...when that light went off, let's just say it was a good thing I'd recently used the washroom. I can't remember the last time I was so scared watching a movie.
Sheriff Bell (Jones) is a Coen staple, the lawman who can't comprehend motivation for evil. Having held his post since just before the end of the Korean war, following in the footsteps of his dad and granddad, Bell is a man lost in the idea that somehow, the world has changed, that things didn't used to be this bad. That dad and grandpa didn't have to deal with this kind of death and depravity. He is as trapped by his blindness as Moss is trapped by his insistence on "seeing it through", and that blindness feeds a despair that weighs quiet but heavy on his shoulders. He is a man who believes that the current mess of things is new, having started with, essentially, the beatnik and hippie movements - to quote him, "it starts when you begin to overlook bad manners." He is old-fashioned in the most constraining of ways. But he is a good man and a good sheriff.
Much has been made over Bell's final lines of dialogue, which end the film. He has just retired, and is eating breakfast with his wife, and tells her of his dreams the night before. In the first dream, he is meeting his father (many years dead) in town and asks him for some money, which he loses. In the second dream, he's riding horseback with his father through the snow, and his father is ahead of him wrapped in a blanket with his head down and carrying fire in a horn the way people used to do long ago - Bell can see the glow of the flame through the glossy horn. In the dream, Bell knows his father is going on ahead of him to light fire "somewhere out there in all that dark and cold", and knows that whenever he (Bell) catches up, his father will be there waiting for him. And the he wakes up. And the film ends.
As far as this being a bad or confusing ending for a film, that just crazy talk, by which I mean ignorance. For one thing, most Coen brothers films don't end - they conclude. Which I think is a sign of a good storyteller. It's also a familiar trope to anyone familiar with Asian dramas, which tend to start and stop rather than begin and end. Any rate, this ending shouldn't frustrate anyone familiar with their work - I can't think of a single one that really wraps up at the end. They tell stories not in one, two, three acts, but as wholes - the beginning connects to the end connects to the middle and back again...or something like that. This particular ending is just brilliant. A lot of people have also written about how this movie is completely depraved and void of hope. I disagree, and you'll see why below.
But let's talk about those dreams. Earlier on, Bell is visiting with an old friend who retired from the force after being paralyzed by a bullet. He shares his frustrations with the state of the world, and tells his friend that as he got older, he always thought God would come into his life. He waited, but God never came.
How does this connect to the dreams? Maybe in several ways, maybe in none. I can't speak for what the Coens got out of it. But from my worldview, which is that of a Christian, this dialogue and the dream - and the whole of the story itself - are highly connected. Bell speaks of waiting of God - but not of searching for him. He was been waiting to understand, waiting for things to get better - but not making an effort towards those ends, only living with what's around him. My interpretation of the dreams is that they are of God. In the first dream, where Bell's father gives him the money and he immediately loses it, I think of what the New Testament says about God's inheritance. God will give us what we need, he will give us the tools, but we must choose to use them or they will be wasted. Bell has been given a position of authority and physical health, and the time he needs to seek - but has chosen to use it to wait, fruitlessly. He has wasted the time he has been given. But the second dream points to hope - his father has gone ahead to make a warm fire in the middle of the cold and dark. Bell can't see where he was gone, and in the dream wakes up instead of following him, but the promise is there that when he does arrive, the fire will be waiting. If Bell can understand his mistake - losing the money, wasting his inheritance, waiting and not seeking - if he seeks, he will find.
All the accolades this film has received are very well-deserved. The Coens have always been strong filmmakers, and as they age and progress they maintain their quality, but make less mistakes. They especially deserve kudos for making such a coherent story out of Cormack McCarthy's novel of the same name, which I read of a bit of at Chapters, and is complete gobbledygook. It's basically an entire novel, free-written. Ever had to do those creative writing exercises where you just start writing whatever pops into your head? That's No Country for Old Men, the book. Once upon a time that was called "lazy", now it's "art" and "deep"...my point is, the Coens took this tangled mess of feelings and turned it into a masterpiece.
And that's not even saying anything about the cinematography and production design. Wow.
If you've been turned off from this film because you think or have heard that it's hopeless, it's not. It's a complex yet accessible tale of the contrast between mindless action and pensive waiting, and why man cannot live by fate alone.
Joel and Ethan Coen's latest outing has all the trademarks we've come to expect from their work: an opening narration, thoughtful dialogue, the pursuit of money, little or no soundtrack, gorgeous camera work, a conclusion rather than an ending, and the foundational philosophy that this world we live in is thoroughly SNAFU...but we could change that, if only we weren't so blind.
It's 1980 in west Texas, and only five years since the Vietnam War irreversibly changed America's psyche. Llewellyn Moss (Josh Brolin) is a veteran with two tours under his belt and a seemingly new way of looking at the world. When he stumbles upon the massacre of a drug deal gone wrong, he also stumbles upon a suitcase with two million dollars, which he picks up and brings home - and promptly hides under the house, not telling his wife. Having left no traces of himself at the crime scene, it seems Moss will get away clean until, in the middle of the night, he wakes up and remembers that a dying man at the scene had begged him for water, which he didn't have at the time. Knowing that the man is probably already dead, but having the burden of conscience, he fills a jug and drives back out...and, in true Coen fashion, this good act of conscience and kindness sets in motion a course of events that will lead to blood and despair.
At first, I found Moss to be one of the Coen's more incomprehensible characters - I couldn't see his motive for clinging to the money, even when it put his life and his wife in jeopardy. The love of money, and its being the root of all kinds of evil, is a staple theme of Coen films, but such a love, or greed, or desperate need, isn't present in Moss. What is present, as my husband pointed out, are Moss's two tours in 'Nam, a war that was characterized by men not knowing why they were in that jungle, but that they were there, and as such they were going to see it through. That mentality of "seeing it through", whether or not it was in Moss before the war, is certainly in him now, and it is evident in him right from his character's introduction. It is a new reason for someone in a Coen film to follow the money, and it is as effective as it is tragic. Moss's Vietnam connection isn't a big deal in the script itself - it's barely mentioned - but it is an essential theme of his story, as we don't even see him die. His murder is impersonal, off-camera, not even given a confrontation or lead-up, and doesn't even involve Chiurgh - three quarters through the film, it just happens, and then we see his body - but not his dead face.
Rounding out the cast are Javier Bardem as psychopathic serial killer/hitman Anton Chiurgh and Tommy Lee Jones as Sheriff Ed Bell, who feels adrift in a world that seems new and incomprehensible to him. Bardem's Oscar win was well-deserved; Chiurgh is the most terrifying villain in my recent memory. Floating through life with dead eyes (except in four very significant instances, which I'll get to later) and killing men with a weapon used to slaughter cattle, Chiurgh is a man who's convinced himself that there are no decisions, only fate, and this philosophy is what justifies who lives and who dies. Fate is what Chiurgh clings to; as far as he's concerned, it does not fail him. Even at the end of the film, when another driver accidentally T-bones him, he makes no display of anger or violence: it was an accident. It was fate. It's not the driver's fault. He is consistent, and allows nothing and no one to shake that consistency. It is not permitted. Twice we see him insist on a coin toss to decide whether someone lives or dies - the first person wins, and Chiurgh walks out leaving him unharmed. The second refuses to call heads or tails, refuting the killer's insistence that "the coin decides" by saying that "the coin don't have no say. It's just you" - to which Chiurgh replies that he got there the same way the coin did, that is, by chance. Fate. We don't seem him kill this person, but the film suggests that they do not survive the encounter.
This is one of the times where life comes into Chiurgh's eyes, in the form of offense and anger at his worship of fate being challenged. A second time is similar, when a woman refuses to tell him where Moss works because of tenant confidentiality - he is visibly angered at being denied, but does not kill her as fate does not require it. A third time, we see him briefly in pain when he is cleaning buckshot out of his leg; a fourth time, which is really the first as it happens at the start of the film, we see him filled almost with ecstasy as he strangles the deputy to death, because who knows how long it's been since he actually killed a man the way one kills men, in such a personal, human fashion?
Chiurgh is a true psychopath - he is Dexter without the obedience training (and writers screwing with the symptoms of psychopathy to make Dexter more sympathetic by doing things like questioning his actions). Watching the scene where he catches up to Moss in a hotel, stops in front of Moss's door, than moves on only to turn the lights off in the hall...when that light went off, let's just say it was a good thing I'd recently used the washroom. I can't remember the last time I was so scared watching a movie.
Sheriff Bell (Jones) is a Coen staple, the lawman who can't comprehend motivation for evil. Having held his post since just before the end of the Korean war, following in the footsteps of his dad and granddad, Bell is a man lost in the idea that somehow, the world has changed, that things didn't used to be this bad. That dad and grandpa didn't have to deal with this kind of death and depravity. He is as trapped by his blindness as Moss is trapped by his insistence on "seeing it through", and that blindness feeds a despair that weighs quiet but heavy on his shoulders. He is a man who believes that the current mess of things is new, having started with, essentially, the beatnik and hippie movements - to quote him, "it starts when you begin to overlook bad manners." He is old-fashioned in the most constraining of ways. But he is a good man and a good sheriff.
Much has been made over Bell's final lines of dialogue, which end the film. He has just retired, and is eating breakfast with his wife, and tells her of his dreams the night before. In the first dream, he is meeting his father (many years dead) in town and asks him for some money, which he loses. In the second dream, he's riding horseback with his father through the snow, and his father is ahead of him wrapped in a blanket with his head down and carrying fire in a horn the way people used to do long ago - Bell can see the glow of the flame through the glossy horn. In the dream, Bell knows his father is going on ahead of him to light fire "somewhere out there in all that dark and cold", and knows that whenever he (Bell) catches up, his father will be there waiting for him. And the he wakes up. And the film ends.
As far as this being a bad or confusing ending for a film, that just crazy talk, by which I mean ignorance. For one thing, most Coen brothers films don't end - they conclude. Which I think is a sign of a good storyteller. It's also a familiar trope to anyone familiar with Asian dramas, which tend to start and stop rather than begin and end. Any rate, this ending shouldn't frustrate anyone familiar with their work - I can't think of a single one that really wraps up at the end. They tell stories not in one, two, three acts, but as wholes - the beginning connects to the end connects to the middle and back again...or something like that. This particular ending is just brilliant. A lot of people have also written about how this movie is completely depraved and void of hope. I disagree, and you'll see why below.
But let's talk about those dreams. Earlier on, Bell is visiting with an old friend who retired from the force after being paralyzed by a bullet. He shares his frustrations with the state of the world, and tells his friend that as he got older, he always thought God would come into his life. He waited, but God never came.
How does this connect to the dreams? Maybe in several ways, maybe in none. I can't speak for what the Coens got out of it. But from my worldview, which is that of a Christian, this dialogue and the dream - and the whole of the story itself - are highly connected. Bell speaks of waiting of God - but not of searching for him. He was been waiting to understand, waiting for things to get better - but not making an effort towards those ends, only living with what's around him. My interpretation of the dreams is that they are of God. In the first dream, where Bell's father gives him the money and he immediately loses it, I think of what the New Testament says about God's inheritance. God will give us what we need, he will give us the tools, but we must choose to use them or they will be wasted. Bell has been given a position of authority and physical health, and the time he needs to seek - but has chosen to use it to wait, fruitlessly. He has wasted the time he has been given. But the second dream points to hope - his father has gone ahead to make a warm fire in the middle of the cold and dark. Bell can't see where he was gone, and in the dream wakes up instead of following him, but the promise is there that when he does arrive, the fire will be waiting. If Bell can understand his mistake - losing the money, wasting his inheritance, waiting and not seeking - if he seeks, he will find.
All the accolades this film has received are very well-deserved. The Coens have always been strong filmmakers, and as they age and progress they maintain their quality, but make less mistakes. They especially deserve kudos for making such a coherent story out of Cormack McCarthy's novel of the same name, which I read of a bit of at Chapters, and is complete gobbledygook. It's basically an entire novel, free-written. Ever had to do those creative writing exercises where you just start writing whatever pops into your head? That's No Country for Old Men, the book. Once upon a time that was called "lazy", now it's "art" and "deep"...my point is, the Coens took this tangled mess of feelings and turned it into a masterpiece.
And that's not even saying anything about the cinematography and production design. Wow.
If you've been turned off from this film because you think or have heard that it's hopeless, it's not. It's a complex yet accessible tale of the contrast between mindless action and pensive waiting, and why man cannot live by fate alone.
Monday, April 7, 2008
About that video...
I have a hard time giving Letterman's writers the benefit of the doubt - ie., that they were actually making an insightful comment - but #1 on the list is really interesting. Because BSG seasons 1 and 2 (have yet to see season 3) had some pretty blatant, damming comments on the Iraq war...but at the end of season 2, when the people demanded and were granted an exit from the Cylon war, everyone got totally screwed! So there's some pretty intriguing stuff going on in what was probably just a flippant, overused anti-Bush joke. Think about it.
Top 10 Reasons to Watch Season Battlestar Galactica Season 4
The following video has some crass humour, but no spoilers!
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Charlton Heston: 1924-2008
Many of my generation will remember Charlton Heston only from the lead roles in Ben-Hur and The Ten Commandments - that is, if you either grew up in a Christian home, or your parents just liked classic film regardless of theology. Unfortunately, many others of the same generation probably only remember him from being slandered and mocked in Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine. Equally unfortunately, many young people may also remember him only as a joke in movies they've never watched but assume are lame because pop culture spoofs their climaxes so much, like Planet of the Apes and Soylent Green.
It's that last one I'd like to talk about today in Heston's honour, because while many know the secret/climax of the film, few in their 20s today have actually seen it. Heck, when I first saw it, it was because my husband and I thought it would be a good companion on a double-bill with Escape from New York - something so bad, it's good. Well, we got two surprises for the price of two - turned out Escape from New York isn't actually a bad movie - it has a clear purpose and does it well, and is tons of fun to boot - and Soylent Green isn't bad at all.
Set in "the near future" (dum dum duuuuuum!) in New York City, Soylent Green is an apocalyptic (but not quite post-apocalyptic) tale of overpopulation and the subsequent food crisis. Organic food is all but extinct and only available in tiny quantities to the very rich. The rest of the population subsides on water rations and a mysterious food called Soylent The Soylent Corporation makes all sorts - red, orange, purple, yellow - but the tastiest, most nutritious, most popular version is Soylent Green.
How does Heston figure into all this? As NYPD homicide detective Robert Thorn, he's called to investigate the murder of a Soylent corporate official, which quickly degenerates into a warrant for his own arrest when he winds up on the tail of a conspiracy within Soylent Co. that leads to the discovery of a horrific secret...which, unfortunately, most of you have heard. I say unfortunately because this movie is good; it's well-written, well-acted, and well-paced, and the lead-up to the secret is fantastic and so effective. Heston was a great actor, but mostly known for larger-than-life historical roles. In Soylent Green, he shines in an understated, matter-of-fact environment, with flawless support from Edward G. Robinson as Thorn's elderly researcher/roommate.
"Understated" is really the word for this picture - one of the earliest to paint a dirty picture of the future. Being as a detective doesn't mean Thorn is living the high life - the apartment he shares with Sol (Robinson's character) is tiny, grubby, and he has to climb over a staircase full of sleeping homeless people to get to it. The few "wealthy" areas we see in the film aren't 70's future-flashy - they're just moderately high-end 70's. And this film has some of the best use of music I've ever witnessed, especially during Thorn and Sol's dinner scene.
As well as churning out some really good work, Heston was also known in the industry for crediting and promoting writers and directors for his success, and a passion for discussing the daily grind and realities of the movie business...in short, a really down-to-earth guy.
Today's lesson is, don't judge a film by its spoofs. R.I.P Charlton Heston, survived by his wife of 64 years, Lydia, and their two children.
It's that last one I'd like to talk about today in Heston's honour, because while many know the secret/climax of the film, few in their 20s today have actually seen it. Heck, when I first saw it, it was because my husband and I thought it would be a good companion on a double-bill with Escape from New York - something so bad, it's good. Well, we got two surprises for the price of two - turned out Escape from New York isn't actually a bad movie - it has a clear purpose and does it well, and is tons of fun to boot - and Soylent Green isn't bad at all.
Set in "the near future" (dum dum duuuuuum!) in New York City, Soylent Green is an apocalyptic (but not quite post-apocalyptic) tale of overpopulation and the subsequent food crisis. Organic food is all but extinct and only available in tiny quantities to the very rich. The rest of the population subsides on water rations and a mysterious food called Soylent The Soylent Corporation makes all sorts - red, orange, purple, yellow - but the tastiest, most nutritious, most popular version is Soylent Green.
How does Heston figure into all this? As NYPD homicide detective Robert Thorn, he's called to investigate the murder of a Soylent corporate official, which quickly degenerates into a warrant for his own arrest when he winds up on the tail of a conspiracy within Soylent Co. that leads to the discovery of a horrific secret...which, unfortunately, most of you have heard. I say unfortunately because this movie is good; it's well-written, well-acted, and well-paced, and the lead-up to the secret is fantastic and so effective. Heston was a great actor, but mostly known for larger-than-life historical roles. In Soylent Green, he shines in an understated, matter-of-fact environment, with flawless support from Edward G. Robinson as Thorn's elderly researcher/roommate.
"Understated" is really the word for this picture - one of the earliest to paint a dirty picture of the future. Being as a detective doesn't mean Thorn is living the high life - the apartment he shares with Sol (Robinson's character) is tiny, grubby, and he has to climb over a staircase full of sleeping homeless people to get to it. The few "wealthy" areas we see in the film aren't 70's future-flashy - they're just moderately high-end 70's. And this film has some of the best use of music I've ever witnessed, especially during Thorn and Sol's dinner scene.
As well as churning out some really good work, Heston was also known in the industry for crediting and promoting writers and directors for his success, and a passion for discussing the daily grind and realities of the movie business...in short, a really down-to-earth guy.
Today's lesson is, don't judge a film by its spoofs. R.I.P Charlton Heston, survived by his wife of 64 years, Lydia, and their two children.
Friday, April 4, 2008
News! News! News!
I love my friends. But I'm shocked, appalled, and disappointed on a near-daily basis by how few of my peers (that is, college- and university-age people or students) have any idea what's going on outside of their schools. Even the most significant current events seem to fly blissfully under the radar. The most common excuse I hear for not keeping on top of world (or even local) affairs is, "the media is biased". To which I respond, "Duh. So are you. Everyone has an opinion. But you can still glean the basics of what's happening in the world around you through the midst of a reporter's take on events." The facts are always (mostly) there. Media bias is nothing new, and no excuse for ignorance.
With that rant out of the way, there are two very different stories that have caught my attention this week, both available in the Toronto Star: one, the re-opening of last year (and the year before's) debate on a re-vamping of Ontario's homework system, and two, the surfacing of a 16-year-old video, taken at a private discussion at Saskatchewan's Conservative party election headquarters, involving a slightly drunk MP making derogatory remarks about homosexuals.
First, the homework. This issue is baffling to me. What Ontario parents are claiming are that the standard formula of 10 minutes of homework per grade is too much and prevents children from having play or family time. They are claiming an increase in assignments that "require extensive parental help and have little educational value" (Dave Barry's classic article about the papier-mache ant comes to mind). They also claim that there is no evidence that homework improves academic achievement in elementary school, and thus is useless and should be abolished at this level.
I'd love to hear from people who attended elementary school in Ontario, because I can't speak for this province's system. I can say that when I was in elementary school in Montreal, from 1990-1996 (we go from grades 1-6), the alleged problems in the current Ontario school system were not an issue. I remember having simple assignments, like spelling, grammar, and basic math, and always being given time in class to being those assignments. I was always able to complete all if not most of my homework in class, for the simple reason that I actually worked during class time instead of wasting that time chatting and goofing off. I would suggest to many parents that bad behaviour in the classroom, and not using class time properly despite the teacher's best attempts to make children do so, is the reason so many kids are "burdened" by so much time spent doing homework at home. I also can't help but wonder what free time parents are championing so hard for their kids to have, as I'm pretty sure my generation is the last that was actually allowed to play outside in the street - not to mention the glut of GTA monster homes that have no backyard, so where do these parents expect kids to go? To organized sports that we also hear parents complain about to the news every few years as being "too structured" and taking up too much family time? A little long division never hurt anyone.
And don't even get me started on last year's Toronto District School Board decision to abolish due dates at the elementary and secondary levels and remove all penalties for remitting homework late - or not doing it at all.
The second big news story of the week is even more ridiculous. Sixteen years ago, Saskatchewan Conservative MP Tom Lukiwski (who did not hold a position in the House of Commons at the time), was caught on tape at a private gathering, which involved beer, making offensive remarks about homosexuals. Someone mysteriously decided to pull this tape out only now out of the woodwork, and you can bet that gay communities and MPs of both orientations are calling for his resignation.
Yes, his resignation. Over comments made in private, and seemingly somewhat drunkenly, sixteen years ago. I tell you, this new "tolerant" society, is really piss-poor when it comes to forgiveness. No bad deed goes unpunished here. Whether you made a mistake, or your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents did, the tolerant vigilantes want your blood, and won't stop 'til you've been publicly humiliated and lost your job, your reputation, and your social standing. Even an apology is no longer enough - the moment the defendant makes one publicly, they are accused of insincerity. Doesn't matter what you say, nothing's good enough until you've been kicked to the curb. You intolerance is unforgivable.
I've watched the video. Mr. Lukiwski said some pretty stupid things all those years ago - they really were ignorant and offensive. But consider this: we haven't heard his name in conjunction with a scandal or verbal misstep before, so I think it's safe to assume that there is truth to his assertions that what he said then is not a part of who he is now. If what he said after a beer or two sixteen years ago was an opinion he continued to hold every day, surely we'd have heard by now about something else offensive he's said about homosexuals, especially during the recent gay marriage debate and subsequent legalization - but we haven't. Not a peep. Rien.
So, all you angry, self-righteous tolerators out there, why not try something radical for a change: forgive Lukiwski and move on.
And you! Kid who's reading this blog instead of doing your homework! Go do your homework!
With that rant out of the way, there are two very different stories that have caught my attention this week, both available in the Toronto Star: one, the re-opening of last year (and the year before's) debate on a re-vamping of Ontario's homework system, and two, the surfacing of a 16-year-old video, taken at a private discussion at Saskatchewan's Conservative party election headquarters, involving a slightly drunk MP making derogatory remarks about homosexuals.
First, the homework. This issue is baffling to me. What Ontario parents are claiming are that the standard formula of 10 minutes of homework per grade is too much and prevents children from having play or family time. They are claiming an increase in assignments that "require extensive parental help and have little educational value" (Dave Barry's classic article about the papier-mache ant comes to mind). They also claim that there is no evidence that homework improves academic achievement in elementary school, and thus is useless and should be abolished at this level.
I'd love to hear from people who attended elementary school in Ontario, because I can't speak for this province's system. I can say that when I was in elementary school in Montreal, from 1990-1996 (we go from grades 1-6), the alleged problems in the current Ontario school system were not an issue. I remember having simple assignments, like spelling, grammar, and basic math, and always being given time in class to being those assignments. I was always able to complete all if not most of my homework in class, for the simple reason that I actually worked during class time instead of wasting that time chatting and goofing off. I would suggest to many parents that bad behaviour in the classroom, and not using class time properly despite the teacher's best attempts to make children do so, is the reason so many kids are "burdened" by so much time spent doing homework at home. I also can't help but wonder what free time parents are championing so hard for their kids to have, as I'm pretty sure my generation is the last that was actually allowed to play outside in the street - not to mention the glut of GTA monster homes that have no backyard, so where do these parents expect kids to go? To organized sports that we also hear parents complain about to the news every few years as being "too structured" and taking up too much family time? A little long division never hurt anyone.
And don't even get me started on last year's Toronto District School Board decision to abolish due dates at the elementary and secondary levels and remove all penalties for remitting homework late - or not doing it at all.
The second big news story of the week is even more ridiculous. Sixteen years ago, Saskatchewan Conservative MP Tom Lukiwski (who did not hold a position in the House of Commons at the time), was caught on tape at a private gathering, which involved beer, making offensive remarks about homosexuals. Someone mysteriously decided to pull this tape out only now out of the woodwork, and you can bet that gay communities and MPs of both orientations are calling for his resignation.
Yes, his resignation. Over comments made in private, and seemingly somewhat drunkenly, sixteen years ago. I tell you, this new "tolerant" society, is really piss-poor when it comes to forgiveness. No bad deed goes unpunished here. Whether you made a mistake, or your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents did, the tolerant vigilantes want your blood, and won't stop 'til you've been publicly humiliated and lost your job, your reputation, and your social standing. Even an apology is no longer enough - the moment the defendant makes one publicly, they are accused of insincerity. Doesn't matter what you say, nothing's good enough until you've been kicked to the curb. You intolerance is unforgivable.
I've watched the video. Mr. Lukiwski said some pretty stupid things all those years ago - they really were ignorant and offensive. But consider this: we haven't heard his name in conjunction with a scandal or verbal misstep before, so I think it's safe to assume that there is truth to his assertions that what he said then is not a part of who he is now. If what he said after a beer or two sixteen years ago was an opinion he continued to hold every day, surely we'd have heard by now about something else offensive he's said about homosexuals, especially during the recent gay marriage debate and subsequent legalization - but we haven't. Not a peep. Rien.
So, all you angry, self-righteous tolerators out there, why not try something radical for a change: forgive Lukiwski and move on.
And you! Kid who's reading this blog instead of doing your homework! Go do your homework!
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Here in 60 Seconds
Came across this article in today's Toronto Star, mourning the loss of the Polaroid in general, but focusing on particular on its effect on the fashion industry. Now, I don't give a hoot normally about the fashion industry, but as I read this article, and learned what sort of a function Polaroids have in that industry, I started to wonder what sort of effect this will have on the film industry.
I've worked a lot on film sets, where Polaroids are an essential tool. Primarily, and most importantly, they're used as records of continuity: the costume masters and mistresses, set decorators, and the all-important continuity director, amongst many others, are all constantly taking Polaroids and pasting them either on walls or in these massive binders, with notes on the white strip of the photo, as their instant visual record of who is wearing what/what prop is where/how much snow is on the ground/etc. at any given moment. No matter what arguments you want to make for "convenience", the fact is that until we all have those nifty direct-download pieces of paper a la Minority Report, you will have nothing more convenient or instantaneous for the film industry's usage than the Polaroid. Digital photos have to be downloaded, and even with those nifty little photo-only printers, that adds two more steps to a process in a business where time is major money.
I haven't seen the financial reports for Polaroid, but I wonder how the elimination of Polaroid film can be an issue of it no longer being lucrative, when I think about how much of it is used on just one film set ever day.
I really wonder what will replace it...
I've worked a lot on film sets, where Polaroids are an essential tool. Primarily, and most importantly, they're used as records of continuity: the costume masters and mistresses, set decorators, and the all-important continuity director, amongst many others, are all constantly taking Polaroids and pasting them either on walls or in these massive binders, with notes on the white strip of the photo, as their instant visual record of who is wearing what/what prop is where/how much snow is on the ground/etc. at any given moment. No matter what arguments you want to make for "convenience", the fact is that until we all have those nifty direct-download pieces of paper a la Minority Report, you will have nothing more convenient or instantaneous for the film industry's usage than the Polaroid. Digital photos have to be downloaded, and even with those nifty little photo-only printers, that adds two more steps to a process in a business where time is major money.
I haven't seen the financial reports for Polaroid, but I wonder how the elimination of Polaroid film can be an issue of it no longer being lucrative, when I think about how much of it is used on just one film set ever day.
I really wonder what will replace it...
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
10 Things I Hate About You (Ontario Sucks)
Today, more things suck in Ontario than usual. I was going to make a list of those 10 things I hate, but then I realized that, if I boil it down to the crux of the matter, every item on that list would be, "Ontario". Plus, though the rant would have actually been related to public and provincial policy, and thus eligible for an all-media blog, as I wrote it out it quickly degenerated into a purely subjective exploration of how much Ontario sucks. So, instead, in the interests of promoting harmony between Upper and Lower Canada, I've decided to go rent a French movie and leave you to enjoy this delightful short from British animator Simon Tofield.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
At last, I can start suffering and write that symphony.
One of the most enjoyable diversions of Entertainment Weekly is their lists. This week alone we have Top 50 Most Evil Movie Villains, Top 17 Memorable Dolly Parton Quotes, Top 17 Anti-War Films, Top 20 Scariest Movies, and, the subject of this post, 25 Best Movie Musicals Ever. So, now I'll do to their list what all good bloggers do: judge them! You'll get yours, Entertainment Weekly! Ha!
The ones on the list I've seen, in EW's order, and minus a few otherwise this post would be far too long and I'm trying to cut back:
25. Once
My Grade: A++. True, honest, beautiful. You won't miss the lack of spontaneous dancing, I promise.
My Ranking: Top 5
24. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
My Grade: Is there anything below F? You'd be hard-pressed to find a hammier, more poorly acted and staged, creepier movie musical than this gaudy celebration of the joys of Stockholm Syndrome.
My Ranking: This film doesn't deserve to live, and whoever put it on EW's list above Once should be forced to watch it every day for the rest of their lives.
21. Beauty and the Beast
My Grade: My husband hates this musical. He thinks it perverts little girls' concepts of love because the Beast's true form is a handsome prince. Then again, he says that about all Disney love stories. Me, I don't think there are any serious concerns with this one - plus the score is top-notch, the voice acting stellar, and there rich watercolour animation almost makes me cry for being so lovely. A+.
My Ranking: Top 10.
19. The Sound of Music
My Grade: A+++! The extra + comes from the documentary on the DVD - it's really fascinating. Did you know that Christopher Plummer knew Maria Von Trapp? Wild!
My Ranking: Top 5.
17. Chicago
My Grade: A+. Solid satire, steamy, gritty, brilliant staging, and let's not forget the inspired decision by director Rob Marshall to stage all musical numbers in a night club.
My Ranking: Top 10.
14. Grease.
My Grade: D. The score is pretty infectious, yes, but I hate this show, from its trite, unlikeable characters right down to its ridiculous little ending.
My Ranking: bottom 100.
7. A Hard Day's Night
My Grade: A. And kudos, EW - the presence of this on a Top 25 musicals list is a wonderful surprise. Enjoy the Fab Four at the height of Beatlemania as they do their acting-singing thing in that dry British manner; Richard Lester's Ed Wood-ian turn as the frazzled, fuzzy sweater-loving director of a variety show is the icing on the cake.
My Ranking: Top 20.
5. Mary Poppins
My Grade: A++. Can Julie Andrews ever do wrong? The answer, by the way, is no. I had such a crush on Bert as a kid, and now that I'm all grown up I'm in love with his and Mary's subtle, downplayed, thoroughly sweet and unconventional love story amidst all the singing and FX glory.
My Ranking: Top 5.
3. Singin' in the Rain
My Grade: A++...+. The extra plus is for the actress who plays Lena. Funny, sweet, and featuring some of the best dancing in the history of film.
My Ranking: #1. Even with the disconnected, revue-style "we need one more number!" sequence ("Gotta Dance"), I think this show epitomizes the purpose and nature of the American musical.
2. West Side Story
My Grade: I'm going to be objective here and give it a B, because the songs are strong and the dancing really is incredible. But I always have, and always will, find Romeo and Juliet and all versions thereof to be stupid, so my subjective ranking is a big fat F. Somewhere, my mother-in-law is crying.
My Ranking: A grudging top 30.
1. The Wizard of Oz
My Grade: C. The greatest movie musical of all-time? Really? I think this is nostalgia talking - I've never felt nostalgic about this show, and hence have also found it to be little more than average. The songs are pretty basic, as is the dancing. Looks pretty, though.
My Ranking: Between 50-40.
Now, I'm pretty sure this list is based on shows that were screen productions before hitting Broadway - how else to explain the absence of, say, Les Miserables, when South Park: Bigger Longer and Uncut came in at #8? - and yet, Chicago WAS a musical stage show before it went to film....so I'm confused. And if being a film first is the criteria, then how can anyone justify the absence of....
Fiddler on the Roof
My Grade: A++. I saw it for the first time in 2002 and was absolutely blown away by the singing and dancing, especially where Tevye is concerned - and that's not even touching on the honest, lovely, wrenching story. Plus, the dream sequence is one of the wierdest, funniest, smartest I've ever seen. Plus, it's interesting to me historically, as I've Jewish blood from my father's family, and on my mother's side my grandma was from a Polish noble family who was displaced by the Cossacks, who counted my great-grandfather as one of their officers....it's all quite long and fascinating, the bottom line is, the pogroms are a very strange part of my family history. And the fiddling is....um.....wow. I mean, really. Wow.
My Ranking: Top 5.
Well, commentators? What's missing from EW's list? What should never be considered by anyone to be among the Top 25?
The ones on the list I've seen, in EW's order, and minus a few otherwise this post would be far too long and I'm trying to cut back:
25. Once
My Grade: A++. True, honest, beautiful. You won't miss the lack of spontaneous dancing, I promise.
My Ranking: Top 5
24. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
My Grade: Is there anything below F? You'd be hard-pressed to find a hammier, more poorly acted and staged, creepier movie musical than this gaudy celebration of the joys of Stockholm Syndrome.
My Ranking: This film doesn't deserve to live, and whoever put it on EW's list above Once should be forced to watch it every day for the rest of their lives.
21. Beauty and the Beast
My Grade: My husband hates this musical. He thinks it perverts little girls' concepts of love because the Beast's true form is a handsome prince. Then again, he says that about all Disney love stories. Me, I don't think there are any serious concerns with this one - plus the score is top-notch, the voice acting stellar, and there rich watercolour animation almost makes me cry for being so lovely. A+.
My Ranking: Top 10.
19. The Sound of Music
My Grade: A+++! The extra + comes from the documentary on the DVD - it's really fascinating. Did you know that Christopher Plummer knew Maria Von Trapp? Wild!
My Ranking: Top 5.
17. Chicago
My Grade: A+. Solid satire, steamy, gritty, brilliant staging, and let's not forget the inspired decision by director Rob Marshall to stage all musical numbers in a night club.
My Ranking: Top 10.
14. Grease.
My Grade: D. The score is pretty infectious, yes, but I hate this show, from its trite, unlikeable characters right down to its ridiculous little ending.
My Ranking: bottom 100.
7. A Hard Day's Night
My Grade: A. And kudos, EW - the presence of this on a Top 25 musicals list is a wonderful surprise. Enjoy the Fab Four at the height of Beatlemania as they do their acting-singing thing in that dry British manner; Richard Lester's Ed Wood-ian turn as the frazzled, fuzzy sweater-loving director of a variety show is the icing on the cake.
My Ranking: Top 20.
5. Mary Poppins
My Grade: A++. Can Julie Andrews ever do wrong? The answer, by the way, is no. I had such a crush on Bert as a kid, and now that I'm all grown up I'm in love with his and Mary's subtle, downplayed, thoroughly sweet and unconventional love story amidst all the singing and FX glory.
My Ranking: Top 5.
3. Singin' in the Rain
My Grade: A++...+. The extra plus is for the actress who plays Lena. Funny, sweet, and featuring some of the best dancing in the history of film.
My Ranking: #1. Even with the disconnected, revue-style "we need one more number!" sequence ("Gotta Dance"), I think this show epitomizes the purpose and nature of the American musical.
2. West Side Story
My Grade: I'm going to be objective here and give it a B, because the songs are strong and the dancing really is incredible. But I always have, and always will, find Romeo and Juliet and all versions thereof to be stupid, so my subjective ranking is a big fat F. Somewhere, my mother-in-law is crying.
My Ranking: A grudging top 30.
1. The Wizard of Oz
My Grade: C. The greatest movie musical of all-time? Really? I think this is nostalgia talking - I've never felt nostalgic about this show, and hence have also found it to be little more than average. The songs are pretty basic, as is the dancing. Looks pretty, though.
My Ranking: Between 50-40.
Now, I'm pretty sure this list is based on shows that were screen productions before hitting Broadway - how else to explain the absence of, say, Les Miserables, when South Park: Bigger Longer and Uncut came in at #8? - and yet, Chicago WAS a musical stage show before it went to film....so I'm confused. And if being a film first is the criteria, then how can anyone justify the absence of....
Fiddler on the Roof
My Grade: A++. I saw it for the first time in 2002 and was absolutely blown away by the singing and dancing, especially where Tevye is concerned - and that's not even touching on the honest, lovely, wrenching story. Plus, the dream sequence is one of the wierdest, funniest, smartest I've ever seen. Plus, it's interesting to me historically, as I've Jewish blood from my father's family, and on my mother's side my grandma was from a Polish noble family who was displaced by the Cossacks, who counted my great-grandfather as one of their officers....it's all quite long and fascinating, the bottom line is, the pogroms are a very strange part of my family history. And the fiddling is....um.....wow. I mean, really. Wow.
My Ranking: Top 5.
Well, commentators? What's missing from EW's list? What should never be considered by anyone to be among the Top 25?
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