Movie Review: The Producers

Before I complete this review, I gotta explain some things. See, I was raised a child of the theatre. My mom was a dancer as I grew up and she continued to dance until I was like 12. I remember finishing homework offstage right while my mom put chorus girls through their paces. It was a world in and of itself.And I have to explain it--not many people understand it for one and for two--it makes me biased to this movie.I've seen bad theatre and boy, I can be more sympatheic then most people. I know what it's like to flub lines, to miss cues to come on during wrong scenes. It's truly what makes theatre what it is. So where does the the movie review begin? Well, it doesn't when it comes to a movie like The Producers. Take an actor and put them on stage, they have to emote wide, make those gestures big, or, like with my ma so long ago, smile so wide that the lobby can see it without opera glasses. Take that same actor and slap him on the big screen. He blinks during a close up on an IMAX movie and, that's like, what, a six foot wink. No need for extra emphasis. YOu don't need to project to the back seats.And people think that acting is easy. No really. There are subtle differences.So what about the movie, Roo?!With The Producers, last year's hit Broadway show--they took the play and put it on the big screen. LITERALLY. Every movement is big, every song is belted, every nuance smeared to the sky. Broadway shows can make it to the big screen. Look at Chicago. But they altered the show enough to make it work. I know, I know, it's a musical, so who cares about reality? I know I don't, that's why I went to see this flick. But the fact remains, like my explainations at the front of this article, that many people might see The Producers and just not get it. You'd wonder why everyone is over-emoting. You'd wonder why Matthew Broderick's face looks like it's made of rubber. But if you know theatre, you might appreciate it a wee bit more. You'd understand the humor in sequences like, "Make It Gay." Or you'd clap when Ulla does a show stopper. Is the movie good? You can see I say both yes and no. I liked it, but I doubt many others will. It's got the typical quips of any Mel Brooks work--risque commentary on stereotypes and broad, physical humor. Do you think you can appreciate that? Then go. But remember, this is theatre folks. I couldn't help wondering if it might just have been a wee bit better onstage.

Movie Review: A Home at the End of the World

I just read an article about Colin Farrell, just this very morning. It talks about how he is sueing an ex who is threatening to sell a sex tape that the two had made in private many moons ago. That wild man Colin! Who knew he could even make porn!

I bring this up because it is a piece of the overall puzzling movie that is A Home at the End of the World. Seriously.

It's the dramatic story about the redefinition of family in the seventies and the eighties. In it, a young man named Bobby (played by Colin Farrell), orphaned as a teen, who befriends Jonathan (played by Dallas Roberts). As the two grow, Jonathan steps out of the closet and moves to the East Villiage. Bobby, listless, follows and complicates things for Jonathan's plans. This being twenty years ago, of course, Jonathan must contract an HIV infection and Bobby, being ever so hippie-like, must be open about sex. It's an interesting premise that technically should work.

Based on a book by the same name and recreated by the author Michael Cunningham--this shows that books and screenplays are very, very different mediums. I've not read the book, but that doesn't mean much in a critical review. Here, the movie's topic is smart enough, but not very exciting. There is zero conflict, really, and what there is always resolved in a minute or two. They complain about not having money *poof* in two pages they open a cafe. An older brother character talks about being taken away and *poof* he dies in the next minute and a half. I don't doubt Cunningham's ability to write. I was VERY impressed with his creation of the film/book The Hours. But I think the success there led him to this movie. And he obviously doesn't have the skills of a dramaturge. If he did, he would have noticed that this should not have been a film.

But it's not for lack of trying. The cast works with what it can, given so little to do. I forgot the Jonathan character, so important to the plot, kept disappearing from view/given such little screen time. And Sean Penn's wife, the excellent Robin Wright Penn, is given so little to do, she practically screams for the short times she finds herself on camera. No literal screaming, mind you, but a busting out of a personality that wants to do something, anything, then be crapped on by this sad song.

So why did I bring up the porno thing at the beginning of this article then? It shows something about the lead. Colin Farrell does a excellent job as Bobby. But the only reason why I say that is because I know Mr. Farrell from the articles written about him. He's something of a powerhouse, given to hard partying and delicious anti-celebrity behavior that has the tabliods watching his very Irish personality. So to see him in a role that is so extremely sullen and withdrawn is to see the change--and be impressed. But therein lies the problem with his performance. Had I not know of him prior, I would of thought his acting as placid, if not bored. I would have not realized what kind of a stretch this really is for him.

So a droll script but excellent acting leads to a movie that really doesn't add up to much. It just sorta sits there and makes you say, "well, that's nice, is the mac and cheese ready?" Surely, the single people watching might have something to talk about at the coffee house, but I have found that the movie just isn't big enough for that.

If there is something to talk about, it's that Mr. Farrell does deserve a bit of fame. No, not for his filming his love making, tho I'm sure that might be impressive too, but that he is an extremely capable performer, regardless of his personality offscreen. With that, you can watch a leading man emerge in the next few years. I look forward to what he might do next.

Continued: Books and Literature

9. The Fallen Angels by Micheal Saharra. I was exposed to this text by accident. My uncle, who went to seminary in Gettysburg, bought this for me when he went to get some paperwork from the college. We drove out and as he ran through the streets of this famed city, I started asking questions. He realized we had major time before heading back to my grandparents that summer after the eighth grade and so we hoped on a tour bus of this town. But it wasn't enough. Soon the questions became more complex. Why did they send the men, in full face of guns, across an open field? Why did they need to have control of this place called 'Devil's Den?' He realized, after years of attending college in the area, he didn't have all the answers. So he grabbed this book, a text he had read and said, try this. I was glued to the pages. After a while, he had me keep a notepad nearby, so I could list ALL of the people involved--my brain may have been able to grasp the concepts, but not totally--and I learned that history was just as good as reality, when it comes to the story department.

8. Immortal Poems edited by Oscar Williams: We've all had a teacher, that one who made the world for us, right? For me, it was my 12th grade, AP British Literature teacher. He was our theatre teacher, but this was the one English course he worked on, and you could tell. He was so excited everyday, he once blurted out, "my goal is make you either love Shakespeare or love poetry." A loft goal, but his excitement only added to my previous interest (Ian Fleming's Bond was already in my repetoire, as were Paddington and CS Lewis). His coup de grace was when I invited him to my own graduation party (I invited most of my senior year's teachers) and he was the only one who showed up. And this book was his gift. I took it with me to college the following year and when I needed it, I would read and use it to inspire journal entries. And I still use the book when I need it.

7. A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams: Look everyone, a play! I knew I wanted to include a play on this list, and this was the first one that came to mind. From there, it was easy--I had written a biography of the playwright in my junior year in college for my American Literature course. He has written better plays, but this was the one, I felt that lept off the page, that I could envision in my mind's eye more then the others. He was exact in his detail. Frankly, I think he was in love with Stanley Kowlowski. And it showed! The playwright, hung up on his own homosexuality, was creating characters to fill his personal voids. But he was conflicted, and those characters destroy each other. A theatrical piece that is an amazing read.

6. Night Shift by Stephen King: Let's just say, my writing when it comes to creating a novel sucks; but because of this author, my short stories shine right through. I know, a bit of boasting on my part but the only thing I have confidence in is writing. Not to say my writing is any good, but I enjoy the act in and of itself. And I love to write short stories. I knew my soul twin would be on this list, somewhere. But what book? Pet Semetary is probably my favorite book of his, but I don't believe it played to his strengths like this title did. After reading this, I was encouraged to write. A collection of his magazine submissions, it varies as much as our personalities, and with that, it worthy of mention. I can only wish to create like he does.

5. Autumn Lightening by Dave Lowry: I stumbled across this title in a used bookstore and I've not been the same since. A story of an American learning martial arts hit me on two levels. First, it drew me in--I love martial arts. I was engaged from the start. But the message became stronger as I saw a theme that the tale of every martialist goes through, that for the quest for knowledge of something. We are responsible, we seek the teachers in our life. I ran into an old student who told me, 'your stupid school taught me nothing.' Having read this book, I realized, it was because 'you were not ready to learn, I guess.' (I offered to have him return to the school and teach what we had missed and he gawked--see what I mean?) Such is the profundity of this text. As a teacher, as a learner, I was marked.

4. Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger: I had long thought that "The Catcher in the Rye" would have ended up on this list, but when I couldn't find enough copies to use in my own classroom, I stumbled across this title. I sat down and read it over the weekend (9 short stories) and found this work was actually BETTER. Surely, the swear words due to return and there are weird moments that had me questioning the author's sanity, but isn't that what reading Salinger is about? This is his far better works, more direct in their publication. And yes, at least for me, more inspiring in their short story form.

3. Writing Down the Bones/the Wild Life by Natalie Goldberg: A writing text by a Jewish Buddist author. I found this book when I was student teaching. I found that I had nothing to do, literally, in that small apartment above the infirmary at the Deaf school where I was doing my practicuum. I kept a journal, because I didn't have a television or a kitchen. It was awful. After a while, with zero friends and a semester to go, I found this book in the self help section of a New Age bookstore. It had journal ideas. But it also had ways of self development. Like killing the critic in my head, meditation through writing, and feeling good about the act of creating. I still read it today. I can see a copy of it from where I sit. And I cannot thank her enough. If only I could write full time.

2. The Tao of Inner Peace by Diane Dreher: I asked my friend to think of another text than the Bible for his list. I should have said the same for myself, relating to this book. Surely, this has, in a way, become like a Bible for me. It takes the works of Lao Tzu's poetry-the workings of Tao--and gives you suggestions on how to apply them into your life. It was like an instruction booklet for a religious text. One of the problems I've always had of the Bible is that it's too open, too many opportunities to self-interpret the meanings. So people tend to lean on 'the professionals' or the church, as it were, to tell them what it means. They rarely read it themselves--which is very dangerous, when you think about it. This book lets the READER make the decisions on what is important within the poetry. And saved my life several times. I still look to this book in times of troubles.

1. The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule: How can not mention this book? I read it, all 300+ pages in two hours. It was reviting and since I read it, I've not been able to put down the world of nonfiction writing. It's the true crime tale of a cop/reporter who's friend, Ted Bundy, may or may not be a serial killer. She reports items from her standpoint, and never really gives in to the wisdom that he was doing said horrid deeds. I worked like a horror/thriller and I couldn't put it down. Why is it at the top of the list? Because she had become what I inspire to be. Not a serial killer, you dolts, but an author, using experience to create a tale so reveting, you'd read it in one night.

HONORABLE MENTION: As I reviewed my notes this morning, I realized I missed one text, so there really was 20 titles. The book, which should have been listed today was the two parter "Mouse Tales and Mouse Tales II by David Koening" They are horribly written, not a single name is given to protect the witnesses, tales about the goings-on in Disneyland. Surely, they are the secrets the company doesn't want us to find out, and they do come off as a bit tantalizing and yellow. But the author is having sheer joy over his topic, a Disney fan not unlike myself, and you can tell, even tho he's reporting the bad, it's because he wants to know everything about our favorite place. This is a fanbook, through and through. And I keep rereading it everytime I find myself in California or Florida. Ya know, just to give myself and my friends to talk about while waiting on line for Space Mountain for four hours.

Peace.

Another Listing: Books and Literature

Again, my colleague and I have elected to do a listing of our top something-or-other, in this case, literature. I feel the need to explain these books are not the best books in the world. On the contary, these are books that explain US. Like the movie listing prior to this post, it's merely the books we have read and loved, regardless of the quality found in them. Me, a critic, saying 'regardless of quality.' Start laughing.

But really, there is no denying the power of cheap music, as the saying goes from Noel Coward. Look at this way. The television show COPS, is, without a doubt, some of the worst television there is. But it's been on the air since I was in high school. What does that mean? It means that sometimes, good and quality doesn't go hand-in-hand. That being said, here's 19 books that some how made a mark on little-ole-me...(I only brainstormed 19, so no, you didn't count incorrectly)

19: Shakespeare. Okay, I'm cheating, he's an author not a book. But having read him and finding I'm still reading him says something. I kept him high on the list, because I figured everyone would mention his name. Plus there's that British thing. I'll explain later. But he's the dude. All sex and violence. Want to woo someone? Quote this guy.

18: The Idiot's Guide to ___________/___________ for Dummies. They say you never stop learning. Well, in this world of deadlines, government requirements and nasty customers, that's sorely open for debate. Then came these books. Highly comprehensive (almost to a fault! Sometimes there's little explaination beyond listing of facts), these books have kept me informed on so many things. It started with my general curiousity about the American Civil War, lead to Eastern Philosophy and kinda flew from there. I love these books, sometimes reading ones I've no intention of using! I knew I had to list it here.

17: Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing/Superfudge. I know, I'm listing two books, but let's think about it, they are the same book, really. I read these titles in SECOND GRADE and I learned more then improving my reading. That books can deal with heavy topic issues alone, when no one was around. That you can love an author and their style and want to read more of it; that action can be internal on the part of the characters and, well, sometimes, you will find yourself laughing out loud when you read. My mother started a tradition when I was boy that still lives on today--I could read for 30 minutes if I wanted to stay up late. I still do that today. And here's the reasons why. (see also #13)

16: A Perfect Storm. I know, they made a decent title for a movie from this, but, well, as the saying goes, the book was better. Made to sound like an action novel, I read this in about 8 hours. I was glued to the pages, forgoing eating while I passed pages. This, like COPS, was bad writing, but presented in such a way, I kept turning those pages, kinda like rubbernecking an accident as it happened. This also links to my love of nonfiction. I've always picked nonfiction over fiction and it still bothers me--I'm a freegin English teacher!

15: Abnormal Psychology textbook. I was rummaging through a book bin in college when I came across this particular title. It was in the dollar bin, a broken cover. But I sat on the floor outside of the bookstore and started reading about all these wonderful items. Yes, I said wonderful. You see, I was in the midst of a creative writing course, and I noted a penchant for writing short, creepy stories. What a boon! Here was a listing of bad behaviors, any of which could become a tale of grotesque and abraesque! I grabbed it and it's still on my shelves today, ya know, in case I need some inspiration for why Johnny axed Malinda slowly.

14: Unoffical Guides. My love for nonfiction continues. I usually buy new copies of these texts every year for Disneyland and Disney World. They don't accept advertisments or pictures, so I find their blunt honesty refreshing. It makes me want to go more not less; even tho they are so critical. I use them whereever I travel. I just used New York City's with great success--how else did I understand that blasted subway!

13: Paddington Bear. I should have known that my most favorite class in history would have been my British Literature course! My uncle, an elementary school teacher growing up, gave me 3 of this series around the same time as SuperFudge by Judy Blume. I read them all, my mom passed the word and by Christmas time, all 22 books were in my possession. Not particularly deep books like Judy's, these books were British samples of life and I loved comparing them to American lingo and existences. I still can't see marmalade and not think of this little bear and his adventures. A great way to start reading.

12: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. More Brit Lit. That freegin little island over there has produced some of the best wordsmiths I've ever encountered. Here, again, having picked up the book from my big brother (the mentor program. My older brother would not have done something so noble) after watching the movie together one Sunday night, I was hooked. I rediscovered the book after taking that Brit Lit course and my teacher taught me about allegory. Suddenly, the book took on a deeper significance, just as Mr. Lewis had hoped. And yes, I am totally stoked about the movie opening for Christmas.

11: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. A travel murder book? True Crime? Nonfiction? This little mixing of genres is surprisingly well written, even the complexity of the storyline. It starts off as a travelouge, one of those on-the-spot journalist thingies, where the author rents an appartment and sees the town, giving advice. But when one person he meets kills another, and we're talking, like page 150 here, the book suddenly takes a whole new direction, using the locale we have been exposed to. It's facinating to see the genesis of story. Wisely, too, the author leaves his name out of the work, but keeps the whole thing in first person, so we begin to feel that the tale is happening to us. It gives the story further weight. And I couldn't put it down. From literary rumor, I hear he has, finally, finished a second tale, about Los Angeles. I'm curious to read it to see if it this book was a fluke, there really is talent there or that he's just rehashing to pay for his kids' college.

10. the Sano Ichiro series. Starting with Shinju and still going strong after seven books, I discovered Sano-san after reading the New York Times Book Review on an airplane many moons ago. The critic totally panned the book, but after reading the description, I knew I would like it. It, too, is mixture of genres. It's historical fiction meets mystery meets martial arts. Is that not me or what? The characters are predictable, the politics are a bit melodramatic, and for sheer fun, this is what I read. I can't put them down, sorta like drinking beer or smoking a cigarette. You know it's doing nothing for you, but it's such fun! Plus, I get a brief examination of Japanese culture in the 18th century. It's about a samurai who works for the Emperor as a detective. He's amazingly progressive, looking at dead bodies (a no-no for practitioners of Shinto) for clues, waging war against people supporting the shogun. Facinating to a fault. And the only series I wait eagerly for the next book. (the books' titles are Shinju, Bundori, the Way of the Traitor, The Black Lotus, the Perfumed Sleeve, The Samurai's Wife and the Dragon King's Palace)

Alright, I got you this far. I'll finish up the next nine tomorrow or Monday. Take care and keep reading!

Movie Review: Saved!

I had a sad falling-out with my own church about two years ago. I was pretty much a regular church goer prior to that. Seriously. Stop laughing. I've always labeled myself as 'spritual.' I was brought up in a multi-faith home, so I was not only into God, but also I knew the concept of religious tolerance better than most. It was truly a boon when I went to a Lutheran college.

Yes, I went to a Christian college.

What happened?

Well, after coming out, I did ALOT of reading and slowly reconciled what I believed with who I am. It actually strengthed my links to religion and gave me more hope then ever before. I could ignore the inane, uninformed banter of churches as they politically maneuvered to get in the White House. I could turn another cheek when churches did not practice what they preached. But when someone in my congregation said to me, "can't you celebrate Christ?"

I was crestfallen. My own church, an MCC, had pushed me away. Understand, this was a minister who said this. She was noticing I didn't dance in the aisles like so many others; I didn't sing as loud as the others, I guess, and it bothered her. For so long, I felt I was okay in the church, had fixed the previous problems and now the church was alienating me again.

It was with this, I came to the Christian movie, Saved! I guess, in my own way, I was hoping that it was a critical picture of the church that had pushed me away. But it wasn't. Well, not totally. It's the story of the usual "churchie," named Hillary Fae (played, quite well by Mandy Moore. Who knew she actually could do something in the acting department!), who embodies everything that Christian churches do but shouldn't. She alienates those who don't fit her image of Godly-ness, she plays politics and lies when it suits her.

Against her are the usual church rejects. A Jewish girl between the parochial school and juvie hall; the wheelchair bound older brother, the pregnant teen make the core--and what the church rallies against to gain votes and cash. The film dramatizes their conflict as all search for respect versus Hillary and her minions.

This is a good movie. But that's about it. It's not the critical piece I had hoped for, but it does have some symbolic characters showing agreeing with what I believe. That church followers tend to be elitist. But it never becomes scathing, as if afraid that the church would picket the movie should it cut too close to the bone. Surely, it mentions the usual church assumptions--the by sheer right of being a Christian, certain entitlements are permitted. For example, one girl believes if she has sex with her possible gay boyfriend, God will restore her virginity and his straightness; Hillary believes that by converting the Jewish girl, her place will be ensured in both heaven and the school.

Sounds most church goers I've sadly encountered.

But the movie just mentions these issues. It doesn't critize them or pull them out. Nor does it go the other way, showing that Christian belief systems might be right.

With that, the movie, really goes no where. It's not a particularly funny piece, unless, of coruse, you've gone to a Christian college, I suppose; it just sorta sits there. In the end, everything works out, but nothing really changes. The rejects stay oucasts, the diehards stay diehards.

I don't know, but I wanted something more, maybe, 'biting?' A movie to tackle these issues, instead of plodding along nicely to make sure no toes get stepped on. Surely, I'll rate this as middle of the road.

Movie Review: War of the Worlds

Okay, lemme start with telling you about this book I'm in the process of reading. I know, I know, it may seem I'm all over the map with this one-but hear me out. See, I'm reading this book called the New Work of Dogs and it talks about how, in this ever-changing society, the responsibility of dogs has changed. And it doesn't mean, like, they have to change babies or things like that. It means, as society becomes more individually oriented and the definition of a family unit changes, the role of the dog takes on a different, if not more important part of our lives. There's nothing wrong with this and trust me, I'm abbreviating the concepts here to make a point.

In the book, the author, Katz, uses psychoanalytical theory of attachment and bonding to prove his points and supports his own thesis (the crux of the book, that dogs have different meanings in our lives) with quotes from Psychology Today, New England Journal of Medicine and Marriage and Family.

The creepy bit? I'm not a psychologist, but almost all of his examples of application, I recognize and can see either in myself in relation with my pup or with family members. I remember one family member, having survived a particularly brutal divorce, having a complete meltdown when her dog, the creature that helped her through the toughest experience in her life for that point, died. All of these theories, however complicated, made sense to me in their basic principles.

I mention all this because I'm going to use it to bash Tom Cruise. I'm glad he made a movie like War of the Worlds because, literally and metaphorically, he has found himself in the midst of a war. A war, like the the Bay of Pigs, that doesn't have a whole lot of hope.

No, really, I'm glad he made the movie. I, like most predators, have been looking for a reason to lamblast the schmuck for years. And I wanted to say thank you to him for giving me the opportunity to do so.

First off, we all pretty much know he is the biggest star around. But as I watched his recent antics, I began to realize that it was a show, both on and off screen. I lost some respect for him with sueing someone for calling him queer. I lost more when he had the word 'gay' exorcised from the movie Interview with a Vampire. Didn't see Brad Pitt flinch, just him.

But then there are those moments he brought me back into his respect. Like when he was nailed with water walking the red carpet at his London premiere. Deftly, he didn't get upset, he managed it like a true pro.

He then sank in the interview with Lauer on Today; his bizarre rants with Oprah and his strange marriage with Katie Holmes. And then, the coup de grace, his major fuck up--dissing psychology as a pseudoscience.

I know what you are thinking--when am I going to start talking about the movie? I hate to tell you this, dear reader, but I believe the cult of celebrity is part of the movie going experience, frankly. They go hand in hand, since the Golden Age. Just hang in there and see where I'm coming from.

Back to the Tom Cruise thing. His acting is strong, very much so. I still flinch at the Days of Thunder choice, but hey, I figured it a fluke. As of late, he's been playing the press like a fiddle. Why? Did he know the movie was bad already and knew he had to balance the crap with some talked about moments on television?

Like the psychological comments he made about Brooke Shields. Him. Saying it's a pseudoscience, and that he's read about it. I have too. The book I just mentioned. But I noticed it's profuse applications in my own life and others. How could he read about psychology and think it's not a help for those with need?

Unless, of course, he's a misguided idiot.

Thank you, thank you, Mr. Cruise, for finally giving me a reason to diss you.

The way I figure it, the only things he can make comment on would be acting. I've heard nothing else about his background, other then this penchant for calling the press mere moments after a life passage. Other then that, he needs to shut up and talk about his movies. See--if I become famous, I think I have the right to make comment about teaching as well as writing, Disney, acting and yes, education. I've worked with or in these fields. I like to think that I have the background in them.

And we all can make comments about politics.

The only background he had with psychology is that he needs to see a mental health professional, badly. If he had 'read about these things' he'd see, even from a cheap, small trade paperback like the New Work of Dogs that psychology does make sense on so many levels.

He uses his own church as the reason for this. Now let's step back for a moment and think about the relationship a church has with any science, shall we?

His using the church to prove a science wrong is becoming something of a joke these days. The church saying homosexuality is curable; the church saying creation is a theory. Ha!

Tom, your crediblity just got a bit smaller.

The movie? Man, oh man, his spotlight just got dimmer. Why on Earth did this remake happen? It's as if Mr. Cruise said, "crap, Steve? I gotta make a hit, I really do." And poof this was the result. A star vechile (or vanity project) if ever there was one.

First off, Cruise is something of an action hero. His characters and acting styles lend himself to punching bad guys. A family guy who reacts to a world gone haywire around him? Give that to someone more reflective. Where's Johnny Depp? Where's any European actor?

That failing permeats the feeling of the film. He just sorta stands around alot and looks like Tom Cruise with mud on his face. He starts out strong enough. But this leads to the second (or third, if you count Mr. Cruise's freaky outbursts in public) problem with this title. It's written weird. Not bad, but weird.

It has a terrific opener but even then, it has these gimmers of bad choices that show up more readily in the latter part of the film. For example, he loves his kids, right? That's why, when the aliens attack, he stands there. He doesn't go running to make sure his tykes are okay, he just stands there. Perhaps shock, but it just doesn't work with what was already established. This happens several times in the movie. He doesn't do anything. Repeatedly.

Other loopholes? How does a city, with water mains (they burst when the machines arrive after centuries underground major locales) and sewer systems not touch any of the martian robot tanks buried underground? Koepp, who I'm surprised wrote something this bad (must have been pressured by Tom), has done well before...like Jurassic Park. He even establishes Tom as hating his wife and his need for space--and then has the character spend the entire movie getting his kids back to her.

Huh?

And her location? She's at her mother's in Boston. And, from the looks of it, is perfectly intact, which is surprising with the alien tanks moving on the horizon. There are only a few branches here and there. Looks like it does around here after a hailstorm.

So, I guess the message here is that when aliens attack, move to Boston.

Dakota Fanning? Considering this is the first real movie I've seen in her in, I'm guessing, like this movie, she starts strong but then basically screams for an hour. She's ten folks. Can't expect more I guess.

I'm just surprised, really, that Speilberg, normally very good with kids in his pics, would just have her do that. But he seems totally uncomfortable to make the picture ( more pressure from Cruise?). When the movie slows down a bit, giving time to try to do something with the characters, he just sorta sits there. We have Tom and Dakota on a couch. The music surges and we're supposed to feel.....something. But I felt I needed more coffee to stay awake.

The only good I can see from this movie is the title. Really. And even that was stolen from a far superior book and 50's movie. See, the war mentioned in the title isn't the one between martians and humans. It's between Hollywood, with it's psycho superstar and tired director, and an apathetic audience (ANOTHER remake? Did originality die with election of Republicans? Oh wait, I guess the republicans wanted this nation to be a thrown back to more boring times...well, they have their results).

And Mr. Cruise? Lie low. Seriously. Or come out. Do an art film.

Segment 1.5: Top Titles

SOmeone was nice to point out that numbers 19 and 20 were missing. I'm not sure why I didn't post them. Probably a test. So here they are!

20. The Seven Samurai (drama/martial arts)--I've long believed that movies can do 2 things--be a specticle or teach. This movie taught me that isn't all. Movies can be an ascetic, as well. For so long, I had studied European films and American films. This was my first glimpse into the concept that art reflects life. I'd never been to Asia; I've no idea what Japan is truly like. And along comes this movie, and I watch it, and the world is so wholly different from my own, I cannot take my eyes away from the screen. The story is strong, but realistic in it's unfolding (yes, it's very long). The images are not in your face, but amazingly subtle. I mean, in one part, the director had fans blowing the reeds behind the actors, first one way, then the other. Why? Does it matter? He felt it should be that way. That is, by far, more concern an American would put on the screen. And I loved it. What an education.

19. The Secret of Roan Inish (children)--I stumbled upon this movie from a chat I had with a dear friend about my wish to do more with my Irish heritage. She recommended this tale. It starts smartly enough (tho I doubt kids could sit still until the good parts in the end) and I felt, like the Seven Samurai, that I was transported to different world with different rules I'd not been informed over. There are people telling stories and telling stories and telling stories. But then the film cuts to flashbacks that go further and further down the pike and the overall arc is visible. And I found myself totally hooked.

Segment 2: Top Titles

11. Civil War (documentary)-I learned the second segment of film with this series of films. As I arrived to college, I still believed strongly in the spectcle of movies--loud, brash and with lots of pyrotechnics. But as this was aired on PBS (but I heard about it from the Telluride Film Festival), I realized that power to educate and enlighten is also one of the principles of film. It doesn't have to be made solely for entertainment. The depth of these movies captured me and I was hooked on documentaries.

10. Adventures of Baron Munchausen (comedy)--I experienced this title in our then, one art house in Denver, furthering my love of art movies. I had been following the tale in the newspapers and rags and expected to see crap on the screen. Instead, I found a story that believed in some of my own core values-that the power to dream is by far more important than the power to do. Yeah, it was a crappy title in the end, but because of this singular focused theme, I had to watch it again and again. And yes, the power to dream is the most important.

9. Addams Family Values (comedy)--Remember what I said about dark comedy? Well, here's the darkest of the them, disguised as popular culture. And that's what I loved about it. Pulp Fiction and other dark comedies alienate, it's inherent in their nature. Dark comedy is making fun of the most inappropiate titles. But this movie picked items from the nation's concerns and mocked them (art reflecting life?), openly. I mean, the right wing soars about the importance of moral values--this movie showed them in a new different light. Let's look at this way. The right thinks that the straight family unit is the only important thing in America today. The Addams family is just that, only with axes and nooses and bad flooring. They have straight sex at the drop of a hat, they are so in love with one another. Is that what the right meant? No--hence, delicious sarcasm. And to wit, they had an ace cast of individuals to pull it off.

8. Children of a Lesser God (drama)--If ever there was a movie that inspired me to do something, this would be it. I don't know why, but I was learning ASL when this movie came out and when I saw it, I could not only understand the signing in the picture, I could understand the complications of the characters better then my hearing friends. I knew I could do what James Leeds was doing on screen--as a profession. And now I teach.
7. Clerks (comedy)--More dark comedy. I mean a comedy made in a convience store? Where every single line is quotable? It emphasized the beauty of writing in it's own way (because it wasn't the acting, that's for sure!) and I can't help thinking this was the kind of movie I would most likely end up making.

6. Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow (adventure)--this film tagged my Disney streak, if it wasn't a Disney movie. Again, the dream of the director was right up there on the screen and you know me and dreams. Plus, remember my love for the old movies? Well, this was retelling of those serials...you could practically see where the commericals would break in.

5. Birdcage (comedy)--The era between the years of the summer of 93 to the spring of 95 are something of a blur. I was, you see, in some kind of a marriage. I say some kind, due to the fact that I believed I was in deeply in love and the person I was with felt that they were deeply connected to my pocket. So we lived, hand to mouth, a deliciously abusive relationship where he stole and I let him. We didn’t go see a whole lot of movies. Why? I wasn’t allowed. Oh, sure, I could go, but I either had to go by myself (while he sat on the couch and did drugs) or I could pay for him and all of his friends (where he sat in the bathroom or the car and did drugs). This is the only movie that I saw that during that time period to make it to this list. It was the only time I had a smidgen of happiness during that dark time. And, what’s more, now that I’m married in a real relationship, the couple here has a new meaning on partnership. It’s dang funny too-quotable to the extreme.

4. Silence of the Lambs (horror/thriller)--I watched this again last night and I'm still picking up details. This film was a first for me in many ways. I used to joke that I wanted to make the first horror movie to win Best Picture. This movie did. Secondly, I had read the book long before the movie and still liked it. Thirdly, this was my second movie review--and I had to watch it at 2 am to get it to the presses by morning. Let's just say that I didn't have a problem with staying up all night--I was frightened out of my wits. It did what it was supposed to do--scared me. And I've been respectful ever since.

3. Cinema Paradiso (drama)--a metamovie for movielovers. I think there is a more of a plot, for people who don't love movies, but I didn't pay attention to it. But here was a movie, not unlike this list, that shows how, for many people, movies are the soundtrack to our lives. I can tell you where I saw this one and at what age (the summer between my junior and senior years of college; the Mayan theatre in downtown Denver; with Linda and Dauria) and that's just the point. Movies are part of our culture to the point where they cannot be separated. Knowing that, we all can name movies that hit us at specific times. THis movie is about a young boy's journey through life and the movies that coincided with him to the end. It's amazing.

2. Cyrano De Beregac (drama)--Ahh, romance. I can't deny I'm a romantic. I may have a bevy of horror and dark comedy, but they are much higher on this list. But the top two, you see, aren't what you'd expect. It's the issue of love that really gets me going, I guess. Here is a tale I watched after just coming out of the closet. I felt hideous and small, not unlike Cyrano. I felt, just like him, that I would never find the love of my dreams, so I should stick to doing the other things that make me feel better. But alas, Cyrano truly is loved and just never could open his eyes to it. I'm writing this with the assumation you know this oft-repeated story. I watched it again with a class and I was surprised at the power of this lush production, with a portrayal of the leads by some of the best leads ever.

1.Casablanca (drama)--Must I say more? I watch it whenever I feel really good or really bad. What does that mean? But this story really hits me a place that I cannot explain. Is it the romance? The well written banter? No matter, quality is quality and you can't help but notice. It's long and boring, if you've never experienced romance, but the theme of true love will go on is undenable. Enjoy.

Segment one: Top titles

I know, I know, folks, I got sick, then took a class and I've just been wiped out. But I've been slowing creating this list for those interested--here's the first segment. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it until I can finish it.


18. James Bond flicks (action/adventure)--Yes, I lumped them all into one. Because, if you think about the Bond formula, it’s merely repeated. But I discovered Bond two ways. One, my babysitter was a total sixties child. Not only did she teach me all the words to the Beatles; she made me watch Bond flicks on afternoon television. I didn’t think anything of it until I got to high school and took a Brit Lit class. Falling in love with poetry (should have known I was gay then!), Shakespeare and then Brit works, I did an indie study of Ian Fleming’s texts. I figured I had seen the movies, why not see if they correlate. They do and don’t, btw, but I don’t need to go into detail here. But I did, however, fall for Britain, and most of all, for Mr. Bond, James Bond, and his movies.

17. Night of the Living Dead (horror) --As I review this list of my faves, I’m realizing there isn’t a lot of horror movies. I some how thought there would be more. I guess I enjoy the feeling of being scared more then the movies themselves. But here is one movie, first encountered after work during the summer at my video store job, that made me NOT sleep. Bringing home old black and white movies was the norm, having seen all the new releases, and my mom and I would indulge in a late night flicka watch. But this night, she had gone to bed and I was all alone. And I was really, really scared. The symbolism of the picture, a microcosm of life attacked from a mystery force, gave the picture a huge weight, even if it was made with a seemingly shoestring budget. The zombie movie, a subgenre for years, started right here.

16. Westside Story (musical)-Every Sunday, for four hours in high school, I worked at a video store, just like Quentin Tarintino. Only our rentals, due to the large farm community, had a special deal--you rent on Saturday, you don’t have to return them until Monday. The public ate that deal up. And we would have to clean the whole store on Sundays. So I’d pick out movies that had a huge rewatch-ability, so I could do my chores and not keep stopping to catch up on the movies. I usually did a StarWars title of some sort and a musical, something I could sing along with. But after a few weeks, I realized, this was the one I played the most. I had hated the play we did at my local high school, which I did lights for (and did have a cast of really cute dudes), but I think I really hated it because I kept comparing it to this tasty morsel of a movie.

15. Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (mystery/animation)--is there any movie that captures the weirdness in my head better then this title? I mean, I like to think I have a severe dark quality (I tend towards Halloween, reading mysteries and true crime and love horror movies) and a lite, contradictory style (does the word Disney mean anything? Heck, they even have their own list!). Such yin/yang sensibilities show up right here in this movie. On one hand, you have a zany cartoon character, and on the other hand, he’s wanted for homicide! How more screwed up is that!

14. North By Northwest (thriller)--Undergraduate college was some of the best experiences of my life. I remember my mom’s best friend saying, “it’s so much more than just the books.” I learned who I was and what I wanted in four short years. But I also spent the entire time smiling through it all. I wish I could go back. But, alas, reality is the here and now. I mean, I have to pay for everything myself these days. Back then, I paid for everything by being a staff projectionist. And yes, one of the things I learned about myself was that I loved art films and cinema. One of the things I got to show movies for was film appreciation class. The teacher did a retrospective for a month on good old Alfred Hitchcock and I was glued to the lecture, even if I wasn’t taking the class. I learned volumes (and realized I knew more then the average joe-movie-goer!). So I knew I had to name a movie from this era that I am more than willing to watch again and again and really shows what I love about Hitch’s movies. Pay this one a visit and make sure you take no breaks--this one is a long-ass chase scene and is best experienced in one take.

13. Beetle juice (comedy) Ha! I may not have a lot of horror here on my list, but I do notice something else I do have. Dark comedies galore. I guess it’s something inside, the ability to laugh at the inappropriate--again playing on my yin/yang brain. I saw this with someone I had a huge crush on, and promptly forgot he was there, I was giggling so much. Then I realized, I was the only one laughing. And I didn’t care. I have always believed that the absurdity of horror movies is, in and of itself, humorous. I mean, scary dudes running around in a mask killing sex starved teens? Not something you see in the news, so it shouldn’t be something we’re afraid of. So we should be laughing. Like we do here. I also like the concept of heaven/hell being something of a business and a bad one at that.

12. Kill Bill vols 1 & 2 (martial arts)--Ha! Speaking of dark comedies. If you’ve been reading this list, you’ll see my mention of watching old black and white movies from the video store I worked at as a teen. Well, I also found the wonderful world of Hong Kong action cinema. I watched them all. Twice, I think. And how nice of Quentin to go ahead and combine all their best aspects in one watchable title. I’m surprised these two movies (really one) did so well, because their clichés of old martial arts movies were so profound, that I doubt that anyone could have picked them up. And the comedy was severe, but again, no one was laughing. But this stuff kicks butt--the only real reason to watch the first half and then, after starting to like “the Bride” you really want to see her succeed, so you watch the second half. Total cool, man, total.

Journal: The Beauty and the Beast

"You rang?"

Roger looked at his computer to see if one of his interoffice chat windows opened.

"Up here, big guy," Roger hated that comment, created by straight men to keep in touch with one another. But when Josh said it, it didn't seem as bad. Roger looked over the PC at Josh staring down at him. "Lunch hour bum rush. Julie sent an email saying you needed help?" That was Josh. No interoffice chat. Right down to business.

Roger had hoped the fake email would work. It apparently did.

"Yeah, I mean, yes, yes, I do. I, yes, ahh," Roger had been focused on his work and allowing himself to daydream about what would happen if Josh came over. There was little opportunity to think of much else when Josh honestly did come over. "yeah, I mean, yes, I can't get my own email to open. I didn't want to walk downstairs to get the tech guy. You know how they are."

"I know, so full of personality. Here, scooch back and I'll take a look," Roger did as he was told.

And now Josh was standing in front of him, slitghly bent over on Roger's keyboard. He irons his pants, Roger noticed. His shirt is pressed to. And look, he's wearing a tank top underneath! Not a beater either, one of those shoestring jobbies that leaves the shoulders exposed to the neck! He must be gay!

"Password?"

"What?"

"What's your password?" Josh leaned to his left to allow Roger to type. Only Roger couldn't. He had to reach his left arm around Josh's frame and that didn't work either, but Roger liked the symbolic hugging. "Here, I'll move..."

Roger typed in the info and the email application came up.

"Oh. Well, it seems to be working now."

Josh leaned back around the monitor. "Yeap." With the ease of a cat he looked at Roger's face, now only about a foot away. "Need me for anything more?"

And he shaves using a razor! "No, no, we're good here."

Josh began to exit out the office door.

"Josh?"

Roger turned back around with a sigh. "Yes?"

"Thanks," Roger picked up the phone and tried to make it look like he was going to be on the phone and that Josh's visit was not as exciting as it was. "See ya." He acted like he was dailing the phone.

"No prob, sport," and then turned the corner.

The email program sat on his desk open and Roger closed it and reopened it with Julie's password.

Dear Josh,

Rog just called saying how nice it was for you to take time out for fixing his computer. You know how those techheads are downstairs. Form this, form that, even though you are trying to get your work done! Good job. Roger has been here for quite awhile, so a complement from him is a big deal.

I'm stuck in this meeting all afternoon, on break right now with the wi-fi--hey, are you doing anything tonight? I was wondering if you would want to head over to the Student Union for a cup of coffee. I have this paper due next week and I was thinking we could discuss it. It's up to you. It's going to get done either way.

Something to think about. I'll be working late as it is.

Julie

Roger then blind carboned it to Julie, so she could see it on her monitor at the meeting.

He smirked at his handiwork. He had just helped his best friend, the guy he has a crush on and his got his own computer program to work. It was going to be a good Tuesday afternoon.

Movie Review: Y Tu Mama Tambien

It's a curious state we live in here, a country sans an identity. I read, recently, about how Barbara Walters mentioned her discomfort with a woman breast-feeding her baby on an airplane next to her and how, when she landed, "lactivists" picketed her office at ABC in New York. This would be the same nation that got upset of Janet Jackson's flashing of her breast during the Super Bowl.

Um, what is it we want?

I'd heard two different reviews of this movie going in. Some really recommended it, saying it was an exploration of sexuality and some panning it, saying it was a stoner road movie.

And like our confused nation, I'm going to add to the problem. I agree to both.

I think the reasons some people put this movie down is because, sadly, they think like Americans. Since joining Netflix last year, I have seen more foreign films they I thought was possible. Before, I had only been exposed to England's cinema and France. Now I've been to India, Japan, China, Brazil, Italy, Greece and Russia. And with each film has opened up a horizon. I could see a world that was so like our own and yet, so vastly different on a fundamental level. Americans, ever scared of sex and sexuality (see a nation that wants equality for all--except those with sexual differences/the breast issue listed above) will see a stoner sex movie.

They will see two boys, lost in a world of falsivity, get stoned and pork everything in sight and it's wrong.

But if you pull back a little, and see this is something a bit more. Two boys, on their way into college and process of becoming men, exploring sex and all its facets. Americans would be and will be put off by the frankness of the images this movie portrays-and give it a negative rating. I, too, found I occasionally had to gasp.

But upon further meditation, I realized that the director, who went on to create the best of the Potter films (so far) had a huge grasp of the young men in this picture and no fear of showing that.

I don't believe a picture like this could have been made in America. Americans still haven't ironed out their issues with sex like the Old World has. Americans would have made the same movie but had the lads go on a killing spree instead of a sexual exploration. I hear that the current movie, Mr. And Mrs Smith is doing just that. Instead of illustrating a couple who lacks intimacy, they supplant it with the two doing violence to one another and everything they own.

How American, no?

The plot concerns these two boys, about to go off to college and the summer prior. They meet a beautiful woman and take her on the road to the beach. The plot is merely a device, illustrated by novice writers and a novice director, to have interactions of these characters. But the strength of the movie is it's bluntness, it's directness of it's presentation.

The same bluntness and directness that would scare off the average American.

But it is a novice film and this is where I hedge. The script has some glaring cliches I've seen in other movies. Of course the young lady's husband has an affair, giving her movitavtion to move on with these young men. Of course the car breaks down to give them time to be in one place and experience each other.

And when the film breaks away from the cliche--it's never fully realized or explored. The young mens (spoiler alert) kiss each other one night AND THAT'S IT?

The woman, we find, has been dying all along. Why didn't we learn eariler? These are great departures and neither the director or writer use them to what they could. Therein lies the drawback and why I only give this movie a partial vote.

But I'll err on the side of recommendation. I think a person should watch this movie and then discuss with themselves/others what it is that bothered them and if they liked it or not. I think it would be very telling in many ways.

Journal: A funeral

I had not wanted to attend. When I had heard the news that my Mom-mom (yes, even at this age, I still referred to her as such) has moved on, I knew I didn't want to attend. For years, I had been writing her, reconnecting on a level that I only knew how...writing. But I was never honest with her about who I was and where I was going and doing with my life.

Then she was dead.

Forget all the 'she's in a better place' stuff, I already knew that and it wasn't a concern. But when a man comes out of a closet, he has to turn his back part way on parts of his past. It's not his choice. There are just those in the family who the mere sentence, "I am gay" will not suffice. The explanation has to be longer and deeper. And for my grandparents, that would have been the case. So with every letter about tales of my students and the adventures of my dog, there was nothing about the love of my life and the family I had created and worked so hard to maintain. The smiles on my face were strangely false.

So when she died, Lord help me, my heart snapped in two. I couldn't go but had to. The letters did foster a connection that I could not deny, no matter how false.

But I had to go. Unlike my brother, I could handle this. He had completely dissolved at the whole event and so I knew that I had to go, a representative of my grandmother's oldest son. It was eerie too. Talk about burying the past. People kept mentioning how I looked like my long past father. They spoke to my mother about things I'm sure she's buried for different reasons.

And I realized it was good to be there.

Just two months prior, I had flown out to New York and noticed how much of my past was still there. To go was something of a gift for my partner, he could experience the world that made my character. But what I didn't think would happen was how it inspired me to reconnect with my history once more. And now, with Mom-mom's moving on, I had opened a door.

And I could handle it.

I didn't want to, but I could. And I can.

I do miss her, even if the letters missed the truth. But as I sit here writing about it, I realize, I never did lie, either.

It was her birthday this weekend. I wonder what she did.

God, that felt good to get out.

Movie Review: Billy Elliot

It's that time of the year again, the reason Netflix was created. I've been waiting for an opportunity to finally sit and watch the movies established in my queue for some time now. Their presence at my coffee table blew pangs of guilt my way whenever I reached for my glass.

But the guilt was not motivating enough to pick up the blasted DVDs and slap them into the player. I guess I felt that there was much more to do then watching movies--that guilt was stronger. Perhaps it's something my mother taught me...there's always something that needed to be done.

But now that summer vacation is here, the guilt has taken form in the opposite.

I have to watch these movies and broaden my horizons.

Guilt is not the only gift of my family's matriarch. Growing up, she had a dancing school--so a movie like Billy Elliot takes on a new, more profound meaning then it would for the average Joe. I've seen a gazillion movies about dancing growing up--and my perspective is far different. I've never once interpreted dancing men as effette or gay; my images were that of womanziers surrounded by the world's most impossibly lithe and beautiful women.

I don't see Just Jack doing ballroom, I see Patrick Swazye and Fred Astaire. That says something when I came to this movie as well.

It's a story we've heard time and again, so there were no surprises there. A young boy likes dance, his working class family (in this case, devoid of a mother, also seen elsewhere [think Disney movies] says no, it's not for men. They come to their senses and try to get him into a dancing school.

The reviews all scream, "this is feel good," or "a dancing Rocky."

And they are correct, in many ways. I've seen a crapload of dancing movies and musicals. This is the same as everyone of them. But I didn't mind.

There are some outstanding performances here that make me want to watch. As the 11 year old ( I had a hard time with that, his maturity as either and actor or person shone through that he was much older then the numbers the script gave him) Billy Elliot, Jamie Bell's expressions and intensity made me want to watch the screen. His father seemed to share that intensity to an extent that I wanted to see what happened next.

That's good. For rehashes tend to get bogged down in the motions of actors who know better.

It is my belief, like women in the late 60's, that men are undergoing a profound change in their role. The Old School is holding on as best as it can, pouring cash into Right Wing idiocy and churches, trying to keep what they percieved as the correct mannerisms for musculinity. But men's needs are changing. In a world of growing comfort, where war is more invention then need, men don't have to kill the bear and bring home the hide anymore. Technology has made the world an easier place and it's requiring that families are restructured.

In the last few years, the term metrosexual has surfaced and I believe it is a sign that the men of the world are truly having to give up everything they own. That's why they are so pissed all the time. THat is why they are running to Promise Keepers meetings and supporting a Marriage Amendment to the Constitution. It's a way of holding on something that is disappearing. Their power; their recongintion to what they feel is important.

They fail to realize that change is undying and the tide cannot be held back.

Which brings me to a symbolism I noticed in this picture that I don't believe was intentional but something that appeared to me. The men in this picture won't let Billy be who he is, prefering to hold onto the Old School image of masculinty. But then they realize, that Old School is not paying the bills or doing anything for themselves or the boy and change.

It brings Billy's message a bit further into the here-and-now and gives the picture more weight. No wonder it was a minor hit. Inside, everyone knew the message and could understand it.

So, yes, it's a good movie, even if it's a rehashing. If you like dancing, sure, watch it, but it's truly middle-of-road stuff, fluff and decent.

Journal: More Beauty and the Beast

Roger sat down at his PC and wondered where to start. He was always the anal retentive type and it bothered him when work piled up on him faster then he could get it out to the appropriate people at the college. He ran his left hand down the yellow tan folders looking to make sure they were all marked with the correct sticky colored note.

All the greens, yellows and reds were there. But the their flicking noise awoke his memory and he reached back to his plastic lunch bag and unzippered the bottom portion. THere was his paperback, dogeared but otherwise clean, and on it's front, a yellow note from Josh. He had to contact Josh. That would stall the day's work for a few moments and open his mind to the work he had to do for the afternoon.

He wheeled himself into position and moved the keyboard forward. He reached beside the monitor and grabbed his antibacterial hand gel and scrubbed away. The smell gave him a touch of energy.

Josh was new to the offices at the college but not new to the job. He had worked for a computer engineering firm for many years until his wife passed away from items related to cancer. He had worked out of his home for years and when his wife passed away, he had decided on a total shift. He moved to his hometown and found a job that did not require his degree. He continued to exercise and train for various sports, but he never played any of them. He read viciously, opting to sit alone most lunches. And people respected that. He was not much of conversationalist, but when he did speak it was of imagined importance and such authority, most of the staff listened. He shared an office with Julie, would she actually stay in one place.

Roger and Julie had been at the college's administrative offices for both over six years. Their lives there were uneventful, and so the introduction of Josh into their mix was healthy for them. They listened to his every word and his every movement. But they would never say anything untowards him.

"What?" Roger had degrees in English and Adminstrative Management.

But not one in computer science.

He smacked the computer's monitor. Twice.

Then he reapplied the hand gel.

"Come on, come on," it wasn't that the computer was slow. It was dead. It let him log onto this email and then stopped.

He tried again.

His brow furrowed and his lips pursed.

"Dangit."

Without thought, he typed into Julie's password and nickname. It worked without a problem. Roger was upset-it meant it was his email that was having problems and not hers.

He looked back at the folders and sneered. He wondered if he should move to a different desk and see what he could do. But the image of Josh sitting at his desk, his tie neat and his shirt still pressed reduced his frustration. He began to type Josh and email.

Josh,

Thanks for the note about the copier. Go ahead and head over to Accounting. You'll probably meet their head secretary named Margie. Give her the papers and tell her the code is 717 and it's from

Roger realized he was still under Julie's email and not his own. He smiled and decided it would be easier just to go ahead and finish writing.

and it's from me. The copiers are on the same line--hers and my office.

And if you get a chance, stop by and say hey to Roger. He's having a bad day--seems his email is on the fritz and needs your computer engineering degree.

Thanks, I'll be back after 2.
Julie

Roger paused before he hit send. He was single too, and nothing makes one's day when someone cute says hello once and a while. He turned and starting find the folders that he could attend to without email's involvement.

Journals: Do you believe in aliens?

Humph.

I've always been iffy about this topic. I can believe in ghosts, heck I investigate them, write and read about them and sometimes think I see them.

But UFOs?

I guess there is a difference between the two topics, and I need to recognize that. I was addicted to X-Files, too, but that doesn't mean I think they are real.

I'll tell you what I believe. Other then God, peace and enlightenment.

There are aliens.

But I don't believe that they fly a gazillion miles to flit about in machines and stare at us like some kind scientific experiment. If they have the smarts to make such a machine that can bring them here, they can have the common decency to stop by and say hello. Or do something other then probing our heinies. I just think that something that smart can be so dumb.

But then again, Republicans still exist in this society, so I probably should rethink that. A smart society and those yahoos still exist.

I know, for show there has to be life somewhere out there. Can't not be. To think that we are alone is pure avarice.

But I wonder about their visiting us at all. I just can't work that part out for some reason. Area 51 is a great idea, really, for scifi stories and whatnot, but I doubt it's anything other then really cool spy planes. The inventions of overactive minds.

That's my story for now.

Here's the good part. I'm pretty opinionated, that's for sure. But I am more then willing to change on this one. I can adapt. If someone's got evidence, I'm sure to flip to the other side.

In other words, I want to believe.

Journal: Three Musicians

If I could meet and talk to any three musicians, I have to say my main concern would be not who they were or what we would talk about, but more along the lines of what to serve them. My mother has taught me the art of entertaining, and yes, there is some personal reward watching people be full on food I serve and whatnot. Screw Martha Stewart, I have my own style. But the request today is who would I invite and what would be the three questions. I'm guessing this can be very telling, psychoanalytically.

First, I'd go with historical. I listen to classical music nearly constantly on a radio I just leave on in the living room. It adds a certain peace to the atmosphere. It also helps where I teach. And since there as been a movie and whatnot based on him, I believe we already have a powerful interest in W.A. Mozart. His music, I've noticed, I've been able to identify by ear and that says something. My three questions for him would be more along the lines of self-application. I don't play an instrument, but I do have much vocal training from when I was kid. But I think I'd ask, "tell me of the times in which you lived." Secondly, I'd query," from where is your inspiration borne?" and lastly, I'd ask, " to what did you hope from your legacy?" I think all of these items would make for delicious conversations.

Music has always had a profound impact on my life. Like a soundtrack to our existence, when I hear a certain tune, I'm transported. I'm thinking of the 80's weekends a local radio station sometimes plays. I remember this lyric and that. When I first saw a given video. So it's very important, if not in the forefront already.

Besides, I was born a Pieces. And they are known for their love of the arts--especially music. Their open ways make them adept at creativity. So music, I like to think, is hardwired into my systems.

The second musicians I would invite would probably, again, be of historical signifcance. I'd invite the whole pool of the Beatles. My old babysitter would like that I said that. In fact, if it weren't for her, I would probably never have discovered this group. When I was a mere child, she would play their songs over and over, over and over and over again.I never noticed their impact until, one night, at the gym, their music played over the speaker system and started singing along. I knew all of the words but couldn't tell you the name of the song. And the questions I would pose for these guys would be the same as Mozart's.

The last musicians I'm kinda hung up on. I want to say John Williams, the Gershwins or Cole Porter. Their music was destined to go with another art form. They created music for theatre and/or the movies and that meant the tunes took another role. The questions would be the same as the Beatles and Mozart, but instead of asking about the time period, I would replace the question about their life styles. Especially Mr. Williams and Mr. Porter. I would ask it because I believe it had a profound impact on their ability to present their creations and would like to know to what extent. I think, since this is my journal, I'm going to just leave that last little bit up in the air. You tell me what you think.

Journal: A person who doesn't like me

I didn't like today's topic, so I rolled back the calender and picked another.

It should be easy. The request is to write about myself from the perspective of someone who doesn't like me. Who likes themselves? Surely, the guy with the white beater at the gym last night likes himself. But underneath, I'm sure he's got the issues. Probably hates to cook and stares at porno all day and feels dirty about it.

I'll switch to third person.

He's weird. Plain and simple. He has this strange facination with Disney. But it's broader than that. He's like a big kid. And with that he carries a huge imagination with him. Because of that, he's a daydreamer. He keeps imagining worlds and places that aren't fit for the situation at hand.

He also tends to do the masculine thing and turn all conversations into something about himself. When a coworker complains about a student, he'll immediately list what he's done and not, regardless of the discussion. It's not about him!

He's so damn out! Not everyone wants to know about him being gay. I suppose it's the only way he sees the world, but there are other things going on. It's pitiful.

Crybaby too. Feel too damn much.

Obsessive? Does that work? Like the Disney thing. Or his husband. He's only got, like, five topics and the world revolves around it. He apppears pretty openminded to new things, but you have to wonder. With only five topics to work with, how can he be?

Creepily involved in spirituality and mortality. Always reading religious texts and wondering about the great beyond. And when he does read and talk about it, it's always depressive or scary. Not a single moment of in-between.

Tends to dote on his partner, which is also one of his five topics. The weirdness here is he doesn't like to be touched or be physically close to anyone. So what kind of relationship do they have?

He's fat, plain and simple. But he works out constantly. He doesn't see that it isn't working--the exercise regiment. He goes anyway. What kind of person doesn't just look down and see they are losing the battle?


There, a perspective of not liking me. The weird thing is, I thought that would be easy, and it wasn't. Perhaps, after a few years, I've learned to love what I've got and not hope beyond it? Maybe so. Good thing, too.

Journal: The Sun

I have a love/hate relationship with the sun, I really do. I still can't freegin make up my mind about it. I love to sunbathe, I really do. I know it's risking cancer. I believe it's part of my own poor body image. I joking like to say that 'tan fat is better than white fat,' as if this some how justifies risking skin cancer, but I believe it's more potent then that. I've noticed over the years a huge jump in body modifications. Piercings and tattoos galore. And forgive me for this gross generalization, but I can't help thinking that the world at large hates their bodies and that's why we see so many tatts out there. It's not a question of if a body is too fat or too thin. It's people hate their physical forms of themselves and tatts, piercing and tans are ways of controlling the uncontrolable. Outside of genetics, we are all suffering.

And I like to tan, I really do. Maybe this is the reason? Yes I have tattoos and piercings as well. And yes, I've seen them on the beautiful people too, totally blowing my theory out of the water. But doesn't even the most beautiful male, blessed with a six pack abs wish that they were an 8-pack?

It's a vicious cycle.

But that is not the purpose of this writing. I'm supposed to be writing about the sun.

My partner and I haven't been feeling well at all this week. The weather has been crappy for some time now--and he blamed the weather last night.

I think he might be right.

For as much as I sunbathe, I hide from the great outdoors. I'm not outdoorsy, never really have been. I do like camping in tents. See what I mean about love/hate? But it goes to show you the profound impact this nearest star has on our lives. If it's gone, you notice. I do love the beach, but hate the heat. I love to travel to Florida and the like, but can only handle it so much.

I'm torn in my love for the sun. Kinda like eating healthy, right? You have to like it and respect it, but it never really tastes as good as an eclair.

There's no denying the sun gives us life.

But I live for the night life. I'm a night person. Recently, as I try to diagnose some sleeping problems--my therapist recommended my staying up later then usual so I sleep more through the night.

Not a problem. I can stay up all night.

So the sun plays with us some more. For me? It defines my personality. Like a vampire, I guess.

A vampire with decent color.

Movie Review: Star Wars, Episode Whatever, Revenge of the Sith

I really wanted to like this movie, I really did. I felt my heart leap when I was standing on line on the cold Memorial Day morning--it felt so much like lining up for Disneyland before the sun rose. I found myself talking fast and watching the teen behind the counter at the ticket booth's every move. 'Did she fill her drawer?' and 'Is she opening the window?' Zipped in and out of my head. Such attention is unbefitting someone who meditates daily. I was ready for some light sabre action!

I tell you this, fair reader, so you know that you won't post hate notes here on my blog.

But I gotta say something.

As fear racks my body, I have to say I didn't really like this movie.

Yes, I'm hesistant to give a full "I HATED THIS CRAP" for there are redeeming qualities. But I don't want to waste your time. There are those people who it wouldn't matter what the critics said, they are going to like this movie. This movie was made for them. Of course, they already knew what happened in this movie, probably been chatting it up since the invention of the blogosphere, but it doesn't matter.

But I'm hurt by what Lucas has done on the big screen. When he launched himself from college, he created movies like a true autuer. He made American Graffiti. He relished his independence. His heart for creativity was right up there on the screen--he didn't care if he made money on it or not. A true indie, as they were starting up, he made the movies he wanted to see, audiences be damned.

That was then.

But Lucas changed, like Mr. Hyde. The movies' sequels became more and more popular. He earned enough to buy a small nation. Forays didn't come easily to him. One, the Indiana Jones titles, did very well (and IMHO, were better throwbacks to old Hollywood), but he had Spielberg on his side. When he took the titles over himself--like the television series--it tanked.

Spielberg, a classmate of Lucas, grew up and matured in his filmmaking. He became more and more auteur. Sure, he too had the blockbusters, but you can see, especially after Schlinder's List, he created exceptional pieces not created for the masses. Look at Catch Me If You Can and the Terminal.

But what happened to Lucas? You can see it in this movie. Nothing. Why go back to the first three titles? To explore more fully the story line? For closure? I doubt it. It's becasue the fans were banging at his door and maybe he had some kids to put through college.

There was no heart in this movie. It's all technical.

The movie fails on several counts. The writing is not unlike politics, where there's interesting stuff going on, but nothing's actually being spoken. Each actor speaks in a monotone except for Anakin Skywalker--he's yelling in monotone. Humor is absent. The storyline was established in 1977 and hasn't changed. I learned that Tom Stoppard was called in to help with the writing. I don't think he was let in enough. I think I'd heard every single line prior in another Star Wars movie. Could become a drinking game, when the DVD comes out. Stoppard's presense can be felt having an effect on the plot. A small opening gambit is delightful and a strong opener. But as soon as the normal storyline takes effect, nothing more happens. Damn! I guess being an author myself, this hits me on a level few can relate to.

But again, it doesn't matter what I say, the fans will love it, regardless.

The writing, however has a profound impact on the title, unfortunately. It goes on and on, but never really goes any place new or exciting. For exampel, Padme (stuck the entire movie looking pretty and staring off into space...another fault of Lucas...he has yet to write stronger women other then to make them Senators or Princesses) goes to her love, Anakin, and they talk about the baby. And then she yells, "you've changed."

Huh?

My thought? No. He hasn't. He's been a prick for the last two movies. You just noticed? Was it your being preggers? The storyline didn't have him changed outside of his clothing! Oh wait, those were the same too!

And this is just a detail. The rest of the movie was like that.

I almost want to see it again, just to make sure I didn't like it. It just doesn't seem right.

There are some very good things happening too. I mentioned it earlier. LIke the visuals. My gosh. If ever there was a defintion of state-of-the-art, this is it. Frankly, maybe the reason I didn't get into the picture was because I was drawn beyond their faces to the images floating around them. I wanted to see the flying cars, the Wookie ships, not the talking heads. So maybe I missed some. Maybe if it were written better, it would have held my interest on the human level.

Another strong point is something the average critic wouldn't have noticed but is something I love. There are some cool ass martial arts going on here. Grant you, they are poorly filmed (remember the special effects? They took presidence over watching some serious fights); they zoom in and out so we can't see clearly what is going on. But what we do see, yo baby! I've seen a buttload of Hong Kong movies. It's obvious he grabbed someone from there to create these numbers. That I did like.

And I like the CG characters. Why couldn't Anakin become Grevious, instead of Darth? He was, by far, more interesting. And Yoda? He was magnetic, for he had some major decisions to come across. But I don't think this was the point of Lucas, was it? For me to admire the villians and green dude?

If I were to give this pile of ins-n-outs a grade, it would be a C. You have the good and the bad. If Lucas was a new filmmaker, it might be higher. But he should have known better. And now you do to.

Journal: Wrapping Paper

*) Important safety tip. I journal everyday in a standard, spiral bound notebook. I've been doing it for years, even when I travel. But I think this summer, I'll try something different. I think I'm going to keep a majority of it here, online. I have a little book of ideas to journal about. I'm going to use it as a warmup to writing other items, some I'll publish here (like critiques) and some I'll keep to myself. You've been warned.

I have to admit, I can't wrap gifts. I can't. I've got two degrees, enough credits for a probable third and yet...I can't wrap gifts. And it's not for lack of trying. I've been taught by the best of them. Mrs. Material, aka MotherUnitPrime, buys gifts beyond the need to. She'll give gifts to people I didn't even know I was related too. Heck, I think she once boasted that she gave out 42 gifts one holiday. Of course, I only got one out of the deal--I'm only her second born. And like Prince Harry, I would have to create a ruckus if I wanted more.

But I digress.

I can't wrap gifts. You know those freegin girlie gift bags? The world felt my pain and invented those buggers for me. If I wrap it, it's duct tape city, baby. My partner? He can wrap a gift so well, you don't want to open it. YOu want to set it aside and invite people over to stare at it. YOu take photos. You call relatives and find a use for the camera on the cell phone. You forget why you were giving gifts.

In other words, the pressure is on. So I give better gifts. It lessens the pain. And I have my partner wrap the stuff.

It's not the only thing that causes undue stress in my life, but it's a quirk that I have to mention here on SquirrelVision. I also can't pack the bags at the end of the conveyer belt at the super market.

Seriously.

I would tip the kid if I got paid more, no matter how bad his acne is. But when I arrive at the lane on Thursday nights, I breathe a sigh of relief that I have my hubbie with me. He used to do it when he was younger. But in those days of singledom? I either had to walk through the mall to have the cheerleaders at their little booth wrap, like 20 items for Christmas; and if I shopped at Cub Foods, I would invent diseases of the fingers and palms (I got it caught in the car door) to have them bag for me.

Only once did I bag with aplomb. When "Ace" the star basketball player from high school was my cashier at a Cub Foods in Denver. I had such a crush on him. He had a free ride to any college of his choice and if he took off his shirt, any guy or girl. But seeing him as a cashier helped my bruised ego. I smirked, and watched him turn back to the next schmo in line. And I started packing my paper bag, letting my mind wander that I might have risen above my torrid high school years.

So there you have it folks. My torture, my pain, right out there where all can see.

I can't wrap or pack. Go figure.

Top Ten DISNEY movies

10. FREAKY FRIDAY (both titles) I can't understand my animosity towards comedies. We went to see "Meet the Fockers" yesterday and yes, I did laugh, but it was outshined by the amount of squirming I did at watching Barbra Streisand as a sex therapist. Same goes for many of the comedies I watch. Their humor is borne out of a protagonist that is put in absurd, difficult situations and we laugh due to our own misplacements.
Which brings me to this picture. But the message of understanding is so emphasized, I didn't cringe. I mean, the end of the movie is positive--but it comes about in a direct route, not some weird circumference designed to make you weep or have a positive American ending.

9. SPIRITED AWAY--And talk about your American ending. This is, like, the anti-Disney movie. The characters are far from cute, but the heart, the emotion underneath carries the tale in a new direction. It was new to me and I wanted to see more 'manga,' afterwards. It captured a culture that Americans have never known (and would gleefully love to supress) about life in the Shiinto realms. I was totally engaged.

8. SWORD AND THE STONE-I had an opportunity to meet Bill Peet, when his college buddy, Mrs. Prokop, my second grade teacher, invited him to speak. Little did I know the power of such a moment, until, when forced to take "Kiddie Lit" in my own college courses, I was required to visit his texts. They were amazing pieces of art and the written word, right up there with Silverstein and The Pokie Puppy. It was only a matter of time before Disney grabbed him by the throat. But before you could say, "the book was better," the artwork was maintained as Walt merged the items into a seamless whole. I remember treating myself to watching it on Sundays when I had to clean the entire video store. It’s memories will be tied to second grade and vacuuming.

7. MONSTERS, INC.-- I knew that I wanted to have something from the wunderkinder Pixar on here, and I am still tempted to say "the Incredibles." I read a review of this movie and it said it best when it mentioned, 'how about a kid's movie that is so mature, you send your kids to get popcorn so you don't miss anything?' That described the beautful creations of Pixar. Incredibles was mature and still action packed--it was totally unexpected up until the end. But I just could not see myself reflected in it's eyes. I'm the scary movie lovin' dark comedy spewing kinda person. I'm seen in Monsters, Inc.

6. THE RESCUERS--My mom remembers me telling her how this was my favorite movie upon leaving the movie theatre. You have to give Disney credit. How many adults, way back when, were willing to see movies with their kids? I still am shocked when I saw Jurassic Park 2 with a row of school age youngsters watching it utterly alone…and not being scared. Yep, those halcyon days of family are surely gone. But not because of Disney, mind you. But that is another article. Here? My mother and I saw the movie together. I was mesmerized. She was as well. And that bonding was important. When we saw the book, I remember her asking if I wanted to read it. When Part two came out, we thought back. It was a very personable experience I’ll always remember.

5. PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN-I know, I know. I don’t ever rate this at my best ride when I go to Florida or California, but I do actually ride it, no? My favorite is the Haunted Mansion, but the movie for that pretty much sucked. With this movie, the loopholes are large enough for a galleon to sail through, but the details are so succinct, you could see the screenwriter riding the boats at Disneyland again and again just find how much to tie together. And it has. It was a summer movie through and through, with a performance by Johnny Depp that was worth the nomination it earned.

4. WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT?--Okay, here ya go. The legend. This is the only film that makes it to both of my top ten all time lists this year. I loved this movie from the start, when it debuted at the top of my list. I saw it the day it came out, bought tickets early, knowing the buzz was right up my alley. For me, it was perfect. It was a forties gumshoe (I love mysteries), film noir (ditto), had animation (hello? Why are we here?). I was so there. I still get taken away when I watch it.

3. HUNCHBACK of NOTRE DAME-This movie, like Mulan, hit me at a point in my life that it hard for me to review. Not hard, as in "I was having a swinging good time and don’t remember," but in the other direction…I remembered too much. I had just gone through leaving my assholic partner for several years and wasn’t sure where I wanted to go, I just knew I couldn’t stay where I was. I was single, more or less, for the first time in my life. I was single before I met my ex, but I was scared, fat and afraid, so I jumped on the first gravy train heading my way--him. But after him? When I realized I could do more, BE more, I left. I remembered how hard it was to get him to see a movie or get out away from his precious cannabis. And how he was begging me to come back and be with him. Yet he couldn’t see this movie unless he had four of his friends with him. So I went alone. In it, a hideous man learns he can be out in the world, alone, just as I was doing. It struck chord at the right time. The music was surely theatrical; the image was pitch perfect. And talking gargoyles? Oh how creepy, and very Joe. I was on the right course. I had found sanctuary in Disney.

2. TARZAN--I had always joked about the day some guy takes me to a Disney park and wants to be there with me is the guy I would surely marry. Well, one day that happened. Someone read my most subtlest of hints (Christmas gifts of Disney books, posters of maps on the walls, stuffed animals as surprises) and took me there without my prompting. And I married him. So it seemed only natural that the first Disney movie we saw together would become our theme song and set the tone for the relationship from there on out. A romance movie, Tarzan was also considered by many critics to be the best Disney movie ever made. It used all of the pieces of the repitoire at Disney’s disposal and didn’t go into gaga mode or cutest marketing for kids. What ended up was a family action movie that kept the soul of the book while going in its own creative direction.

1. MULAN--My husband is going to kill me for this, but I can’t help it. I like to think that we had Tarzan together, but in order to get to that place, that space in my life where I could accept someone else, well, there had to be this movie. A movie about being yourself and helping yourself. A movie with a dragon in it. It was quintessential modern Diz, with a musical action (you don’t see any successful live action pulling that stunt, do you?) overload, feminism abounding and gay subtext. This is what I go to see Disney for.

DVD review: The Cooler

You ever just have one of those days?
I mean, really, you wonder what was written in the stars or perhaps your past life decided to recall your charmic debt all at once? Like 18 different bad things happen at the same time? I like to think it’s because I’m Irish that I put so much stock into things like fate and luck, but the fact of the matter is--crap happens--period. There’s very little much you can do about it.
My last trip to Las Vegas was to see what all the hubbub was about. I had heard and seen all the new contraptions there were being built during the boom of later Clinton years. I was very impressed. This was not the world I had seen when I had first turned 21 and disposable cash was becoming a possible option for me. Instead of the ruff and tumble, gangster world from the previous visit, I saw Disney-lite, with a tangible, underlining of sin thrown in, in case the family wasn’t looking.
It’s from these two standpoints that the movie The Cooler was created. The old Las Vegas, the one I saw at 21 is slowly dying off in this film. That world still has some of it’s creators, hanging around on the fringes as opposed to being the center of Las Vegas world, as they once were. They still believe in things as luck and chance and still have to take matters into their own hands. It’s the discussion of the moment for many in America--I’ve seen articles in Time and Newsweek related to the place over this sort of thing. The place is growing and it’s face is changing seemingly daily. And with September 11th changing the face of travel--no one goes anywhere via plane anymore--Las Vegas is changing again.
This movie was a nice change of pace, that’s for sure. I believe in luck, as I said before, so on that level, I could relate. The concept of a ‘cooler’ is someone who is such a sad-sack, they suck the life out of any poker, craps or slot machine. Whomever is winning, stops. And what a perfect person to play that character then William H. Macy. I mean, I don’t want to say he’s depressing to look at, but he isn’t exactly someone who cracks a joke and you believe. His own face has so many lines, you would think he worked on the Kerry campaign. Couple it with Macy’s ability to be the perfect character actor (non lead) and his ability to be a decent judge of indie scripts and-well--you have this movie.
It’s a good movie. Not a great movie, it doesn’t have that scope. There’s no spectacle; no outlandish situations. A wonderfully small piece, it works and several levels. You have Alec Baldwin, nominated for a Supporting Actor Oscar in this role, playing a tangible casino owner. Frankly, Mr. Baldwin is the most talented of the Baldwins, and his ability outweights many actors in Hollywood. Why isn’t he working more, people? His story, however presented in short manner, is really what the theme of the movie is--the Old Guard against the New Las Vegas--and he has enough ability to carry it and convey it.
It’s all very well written. Calm in parts and yes, violent in others. This isn’t Scorese’s Casino, in that the art of the film overshadows the tale. It’s well written enough that when characters’ fates begin to play out, you feel for them and want them to come out on top.
I do believe in luck, and I was lucky to find this tasty little film. I do recommend it. You’ll feel better after you’ve had one of those days, knowing you aren’t alone.