The Power of Film: 10 Films that Influenced My Life....

I guess the first statement out of the box is the most, most obvious.

I mean, really. Only 10?

As a true cineast, I only watch entertainment news; movies have been my life for so long, they seem to outlive my love of Disney in many, many respects. There's is nothing like the conundrum that I suffer from when I ahve to choose between a new release and a day at the Parks. There's really something in there. However, there's nothing nicer than having two wonderful choices before me. I can't lose.

Movies have always been there for me. I've gone alone, gone with friends, gone with people I appreciated and people that I've detested. But the movies, even the truly bad ones, they were always there. And I cannot stop thier impact on me.

10.  sex, lies, and videotape  I'd already known I was a cineast. Years of managing a videotape store had shown me I could always find something. I looked them like I would a decent library. Sometimes you'd ahve something under your ability, that one book or movie that provided comfort; the other titles, both movies and books, that really challenged you.

I had already seen several art movies. There was one of my employees/coworkers and he was a swimmer and an artist. Fine as a statue. And he loved the art movies. He'd return htem with his shift, knowing full well they'd not be rented. He'd mention why this art film or that foreign title was worth it. So? I'd wait until the end of my shift and watch it on the store's big screen television with the lights out.

By the time I saw sex, lies, and videotape, I had a decent understanding of the difference between an arthouse independent movie and a full blown blockbuster.

Big C was the female lead across from me in the play Present Tense, the first play I ever had to do shirtless in. It was weird, she played my girlfriend.

Yeah, I know, I was that good of actor.

I felt I needed to act like I liked this girl and told her that I read about this art movie in Film Comment magazine and, strangely, that it had opened, of all freegin places, in Fargo (!) North Dakota.  I knew if we didn't go see it, it'd close and they'd never bring an art movie back into the town again. This was the spring of 1989, so the independent movie craze was about to get underway. So? A date was born and we went.

The subject matter was massive mature, but strangely, the presentation was so digestable, there was zero discomfort from either of us. We even had coffee at the Ember's, the only place still open on that hour and, for the first time in my college career, in my fucking life, heck, I had a mature conversation about symbolism, nuance, purpose, and message.

How did it influence me? Like that first toke of a decent drug, I was hooked, my head swimming with thoughts and feelings that were complete and very, very enjoyable. For the first time, my addiction was shared with intelligence and I knew, from there, that I loved independent movies.

I probably could link it to the moment when someone starts a drug habit and gets that first hit.

9.  The Crying Game.  By the time I rolled around to this movie, my movie addict was going full bore. I'd not earned enough money to support that habit, so I started to moonlight managing a movie theater. It came with specific perks, in his case, free movie tickets.

I did my best to attend any movie with a GBLT theme, so make sure that my dollars communicated that those movies were worth merit and that Hollywood should look inot making more and more of those titles.

Believe it or not, I did not realize this was a GBLT movie, but, that wasn't real reason it influenced me. It influenced me in the area of writing. See, this was the first time, ever, that I noticed that the gay guy didn't die. He wasn't swishy. He even had a straight guy fall for him (if you've not seen the movie, that's kinda a spoiler).  It's an amazing piece of motion picture. 'Whoa,' I remember thinging as I picked my jaw up off the floor, 'the gay guy was the good guy and survived everything.'

I could write stories like that. I don't have to have the guy die because he had the kind of love I have.

8.  Brokeback Mountain.  Of course, this movie did have a death onscreen, and it devasted so many of my gay male friends. You have to remember my colleagues and my peers, we had grown up in a time of AIDS where those came out of the closet to find themselves quickly interred from a deadly disease. Now? Here was a mainstream movie and for many of my friends, the sobs didn't stop after the credits rolled.

But how did it influence me? Well, watching my adult friends turning into blubbering messes, well, that was something. We'd never seen our love and our aches personified on the big screen before, as heroes, as protagonists. I'd watched Casablanca so many times and wept in the right spaces, but, well, they were straight. I could only relate to them on some love, but I don't think I could totally understand.

Then I saw this movie.

And I cried too. For there, before me, was why everyone cried in Romeo and Juliet and every other heterosexual tragic love story.  It wasn't in my skull. I didn't have to figure out why people in the audience were crying when I watched this Brokeback. Instead? My heart cried for me. For the first time, I got it.

8.  Clerks.  This was it. Up until this point, art movies were unreachable. Beautiful people speaking poetry and making us Think Deeply.

But this movie changed the game. An arthouse movie. Jokes that were about penises and farts and Star Wars.

And it was an art movie.

It had no Deep Thoughts. The message was direct and not hidden behind symbolism and vague analogy.

Fart jokes.  In glorious black and white.

Here's the thing? I'm not into comedies. At all. I'd spent so much time with the art stuff, I think I closed that part out of me, I was becoming a hipster before becoming a hipster was annoying. How did that work? The movie was such a unique experience, I realized that, true art is, at it's core, just expression.

And sometimes, taht's with fart jokes.

It influenced me on that, well, just do it. Write what you want to write. Create your art. Let the chips fall where they may.

7.  Hunchback of Notre Dame.  Too deep and too obscure to really find a niche on the Disney canon, I rarely mention this title, but it did, basically, have an influence on me on a way that, literally, has nothing to do with the movie itself and EVERYTHING to do with the timing of this Disney flick. See? I had left my boyfriend/husband/douchebag of 3 and a half years. Three and half years of an abuse laden daily existence. I hated myself, gorged myself and rarely found the good. He did so many drugs, so many horrid things, I would steal away to the movies, all I had left. He hated the movies because he couldn't bring alcohol in and, then, he'd tell me how fake everything was.

He'd have his affairs, usually under the guise of working late at his bank, and I would, as usual, be left alone to keep his house clean and feed our dog, my only friend. He discouraged me visiting with friends, mentioning the drug use and his possible incarceration.

I had such low self-esteem, so brow beaten to a pulp, that it took me forever to leave the schmuck. I didn't even unpack when I left him. I just dropped off everything at the studio apartment, all I could afford. I had no money left by that point. I left him my television. I left him my furniture.

And, with that remaining dollars in my pocket, I put a salve on my wounds. I went to see a Disney movie. A Disney movie about a man who thought he was misshapen, but it was the world around him that was so wrong.

Thanks, Quasi!

7.  The Adventures of Baron Munchausen-My imagination is okay. Here was one of those movies where my daydreams were finally summed up.

I can be weird and, well, someone might make a movie out of my stories. Or make a movie about me making up stories.

Never had a film shown me that the creative impact has on the world around me. Remember, you're looking at one of the two people in the universe that happens to adore Journey into Your Imagination. It's the world I live in, I believe in the power of creativity and it's impact.

And here's a movie about it. The influence? Be crazy-wonderful. Tell your tale, I'm going to tell mine.

I started my first book, about a young man coming out of the closet. Not because he was merely gay, but, because, well, there were literal monsters in it and it was too crowded. And a certain Baron said, "this is the story."

6.  Singles-I hated dating when I first came out of the closet. This was before the interwebs, so I was unable to meet people when I was interested. We tended to hang out in special bars. That was about it. Oh, and classified ads.

I hated it. Detested it.

And then I saw this movie.

Seems like the straight folk were having the same problem.

I wasn't alone. I was alone, physically, thinking I was going to die, slowly, alone. But, with this movie influencing me, I guess I wasn't. They were going to die alone too. We were all rallying against the dying of the light.

5.  Link.  I was trying to get into his pants. He was the center lineman of the Overland Blazers winning football team. He was built like a brick shithouse.

We had math together. He was in a military family and they didn't have much towards cash. He weightlifted so frequently, his saw-offed jeans slowly became daisy dukes and he was a bit too dim to notice. I'd invite him over and we'd work on his car together and he'd always take off his shirt.

And I'd buy him lunch. Feed him dinner. Anything to keep his attention on me.

It was sad, really, because I didn't realize what I was doing. And he didn't realize I was doing it either.

Link had a beautiful blonde lead. He wanted to see her. So? Sure. Whatever. Let's go see a movie.

And I watched him get happy and enjoy the movie, I realized...I'm queer. Of all movies! This isn't what I thought it was. He wasn't becoming my best friend. I wanted more from him-and so, that movie ended my attention to him.

After I convinced him we should jump in my parents' hot tub.

4.  Fun With Dick and Jane.  A shitty little movie about poverty and how it encourages crime. But, well, it had a powerful influence over me as well. See, when those houselights dimmed, I was hooked.



It was the first movie my memory tells me I had seen. I was really, really impressed. It was like a television show where they didn't have commercials. There were jokes. People rolling up the lawn.

It made me love these galloping tintypes called the movies.

3.  My Big Fat Greek Wedding.  I know I've talked about his picture before, at length, elsewhere here, but the fact remains, this movie was a huge influence on my life. It showed me that the horrible stereotypes my family were in reality weren't so bad in some respects, and the traditions they had lauded over me for so long were with deep purpose and love. I was, again, as mentioned in this very column, not alone.

And that marriage is very much about love. But it's also about a family and their very definition. And, gay or straight, every wedding redefines that marriage as it should be.  Powerful stuff.

2.  Farenheit 911-Okay, yeah, it was a piece of propoganda, and I admit, the bias was so profound, I could not avoid it. I thought, going in, that it was going to be a comedic piece of X-Files conspiracy about the 9/11 attacks, but, and here's the thing-

it wasn't. It did not reinforce what I already believed, nor did it knock down any ivory towers my heart and mind had built. Instead? It gave me a different perspective that changed the way I've voted since. Before, I used to really tow the middle line and look to both sides (luckily, one side was totally yahoo, so that helped) to decide where to voite. But not after this. Privativation of everything. The war machine built to benefit the few. Sending other people's children off to war.

It creeped me out. It was further elaborated on with Capitalism: A Love Story. I got it. And I didn't want to.

No more commercialism from this point onwards.

1.  The Insider-This movie? This one hit me on a level that I could not believe would hit me. I had contemplated smoking, but, hey, I didn't drink any more and had way too little vices left in my world. I am sure there was a great amount of fiction here. However, if even the premise is true, about a man who blew the lid off of the smoking industry and was threatened for it, I thought-this is not someone I want to give my business to.


As I reread this list, this is probably the most personal list I've ever posted here. As such, I'm not going to mention it over on FB. But I'm seeing a lot about my suffering here, and how movies cured it. Amazing stuff and, well, I guess with news as of late, I'm a bit vunderable right now and that's saying something. Whoa. Read at your peril. I'm one messed up dude.

Movie Review: The Martian

Ah, the Attack of the Nadir.

Every kid back in school; Hollywood waiting for all the summer production schedules to wind down. When they do? The voting academy, aka Oscar, will have a bit more living room time to pop in their DVDs the promo videos and start looking for the next Best Picture.

Whcih means what for us?  It's the Attack of the Nadir. A Cusp of orphaned films.

"Bob? What do we do with this picture?"

They release it in October. Truly, these are the movies that are very hit-or-miss and do well as counterprogramming against the Hollywood slasher types that come out at this time of year.

And I think I found a hit.

Yes, it stars Matt Damon. Matt's one of those actors who really had made good on his career and tries really hard to use his star vehicles to his advantage. He was Bourne. Jason Bourne.

And he's a good actor, to boot.

Good looking, ability to match, he's something of the old school Hollywood types, who keeps cranking out movies.  His latest endeavor is this appealing The Martian based on the self-published book of the same name.

And you can see why it was orphaned.

The film was made, first, by Ridley Scott. He's a very, very unique director, one of the few that has the vision and scope to take a big budget and make it shine on the screen. If you believe autheur-theory, he tends towards books and prewritten materials and marries them a production representation that literally bursts at the seams. I mean it. Most movies have several characters, shit-ton of special effects, but must follow formula that can be a predicted hit. Scott doesn't do that. All of his tales rely, heavily, on a source material and IT MUST BE EPIC.

We're talking David Lean and Sir Richard Attenbourough productions. Shots with thousands of people in period costumes. Movie sets that blot out the sun. Actors that are mere specks on the landscape.

Ridley came to my notice in the late 70s with the horror movie Alien. Not a positive picture. It was based on the source material of Giger, an artist. It was Ridley's last foray into space, and, well, knowing that picture, I figured that The Martian would have the same bleak outlook on space and beyond. In Alien, you had basic space-truckers that are mauled to death for being working class and the corporations just wanted to have their possible weapon. He was the one who also made Blade Runner (again, source material by Phil K. Dick), which showed a future where being human isn't really being human.

Not exactly family fare nor adult fare. Heavy topics shot in sequences that show how small we are.

But I have applauded him for his approach. Speilberg works with large components, but he tends to fawn and lull over topics, hence the term, 'Spielbergian.'

Not with Ridley.

But he has gone and done something that even I was shocked to see.

He made a big budget family film. Okay, I can't say a children's film, due to some language issues and shots of Damon's eggplant, but done in a manner that's approachable and mature. The movie is true joy.

Let me put it to you this way.

There's no punching.

There's no violence.

See, as an English teacher, we have to discuss conflicts in fiction. There are five.

And my students? They would always name the easiest one and could never, if ever, find an example of the others. Take a look and follow my thinking:

Person v person
Person v self
Person v nature
Person v society
Person v technology

Now, take a wild step, with all the public violence happening on campuses today, which on my students always could understand and identify?

Person vs. a person. Wars. Light saber battles. Star ships. Aliens bursting out of chests.

But what about a person vs themselves? The kids had a hard time with that one. How can you be in conflict with yourself?

I finally found that motion picture.

In "The Martian," Matt plays Mark Whatney, a effable botanist working on Mars when a storm hits and the crew has to abandon the mission. He gets left behind, ala Robinson Crusoe, and the movie starts. Here's the thing-the movie fills up with his humor and posititve vibes so much, it becomes evident that he won't die by suicide, that's for sure. We start to root for him.

Not only that, Ridley changes gears here. Even the bad guy, easily seen as the government and embodied by the extremely talented but massively underused Jeff Daniels as NASA director Teddy Sanders, is not really bad. He's doing his job and not wasting billions of tax payers' budgets by sending a mission back (of course, he does change his mind, or we'd not have a picture).  The film is like a Robert Altman piece, bursting with star talent, even in smaller, two-line roles. However, this is one of the smaller faults. Ridley is used to grand scale.  Unlike Altman, many famous names are pretty much wasted for, like, well, two lines.

But I enjoyed it, a reason to go to the movies and fill like you've been satisfied. It rekindled a certain sense of wonder, lost by going to Disney World too many times over and over again. It's so massively approachable, that I cannot think of anyone who would not enjoy such a piece.

That includes you.

Movie Review: Don't Be Afraid of the Dark/Red State

Has it been so long? Have I really not written? That says something-oh, yeah, school started. And, as such, focus has been directed elsewhere.

Like lesson plans and my upcoming novel. I need to get that puppy done so I can start a new one with National Novel Writing Month.

And I have to do lesson plans before, well, everything.

That being the case, I have been still been on the case. I needed something, a spark, a fire to get me to write here again. I've been watching movies, to be sure, but, really, Don't Be Afraid of the Dark was...not worthy of a full review.

Outside of seeing that Katie Holmes got a job outside of her psycho husband, there was nothing to report. Sure, yes, I saw the original television movie as a kid and it scared the living crap out of me. Part of me migth have been  the fact that I was a kid, but the details I remembered were pretty potent. Scared lady, small door in the new house, strange noises from behind said door. Good stuff. The fact is, the house this family lives in is TOO LARGE. It would never, ever, ever been built.

So don't waste your Netflix queue.  If that's the only thing I remember from this movie, that's saying volumes.

Red State, however, you might want visit. Written and directed by auteur Kevin Smith, I've followed his career very closely.  I was there and fell in love with his sense of humor, his creativity, and his ability to make dialogue that was witty and profound at the same time. I noticed a trend in his filmmaking, as he grew as a storyteller between film to film. His own daughter's plight shined in the much aligned Jersey Girl, but I could see what he was trying to do.

He was maturing (I think the film is highly underrated and it's shame).  You can see him work with someone else's script with the terrible Cop Out. I watched him even act, wonderfully so, in the cute Catch and Release.  You can see the artist in him grow and try different approaches and concepts and grow. You can even hear him narrate it on his SMODradio and various podcasts. He even ventured into television with the successful Comic Book Men (which, after a strong start, didn't do much else and started dying).

So it would come to pass that he would arrive at trying a different genre. This is not out of the ordinary, given today's slate of directors and the ability to be exposed to a variety of media to process.  Look at Ron Howard. Actioners. Dramas. Comedies. Many are hits-more are misses. But each is unique and I like them all. Same with Rob Reiner. A very, very funny man, it shined through his creation of When Harry Met Sally; and then there was his uber horror, Misery.  However, as a review and proponent of auteur theory, you have to find what makes the films the same to see what the strengths are.

Let me give you a terrific and very evident example. Alfred Hitchcock made only one movie. Again, his tales involved a loss of identify, humanity being small and impotent against the world around them (protagonists seen against huge monuments; reoccuring themes of mistaken identify), and, given some of his movies were true horror, some were pure comedy, some were actioners.

If I look at Rob Reiner, I see the same thing.  Strong women who men learn to understand. Toxic relationships that take forever to resolve. Characters not understanding their immediate surroundings. You see that in all of his movies.

Kevin does it too. His so-called slackers as they appear, aren't lazy at all. They are smart, but caught up in an unbending system.  Dogma's characters have to run through a prophecy.  Clerks? They're all smart but cannot seem to get out of the rut their in. The conflicts tend to be hilarious, but there's a serious undertone with their undertakings.

Then there's this movie.

I cannot tell if I have pause because he isn't following his own rules or if, basically, he abandoned them.  He has protagonists who have made bad hygiene choices and are throughly unlikeable. Their destruction isn't heartfelt, much like the deaths in such torture porn of Saw and Hostel.  Bodies pile up in the corners of the film, but, by the fifth death, I'm not scared, nor do I feel I have any vested interest in doing so.

Is this disgust born out of his not following his own artwork? Maybe, possibly. But he didn't have to. Look at the movie Match Point by Woody Allen. His movies tend to be about the same interactions, slight, realistic comedies with soft edges. Then he made a drama about murder. It worked. Eeriely so. Smith could have left the comedy out and still had a strong picture.

The pacing is quick, and taht's good, but, again, everytime someone shows up on screen, they seem to be more target practice.

Where the films works? Because of his fame, he picked top talent. Michael Parks is something akimbo to Hannibal Lector.  Melissa Leo plays his wife-and gives a character where there is a few lines. He can tell as story and, well, being able to write it as well helps.

Also? There's a potent themetic element here. Saw? Hostel? Dead teeenagers make no statements.  But Kevin's intelligence on what makes headlines is profoundly evident. There are shades of the Branch Davidians and every other gun spouting church.  This is topical in the horror department and a profound statement.

However, again, the pendulum swings back-and he pulls a deus machina.  Have you ever seen Psycho? Movie starts strong, but then, for some reason, has a cop stand there and talk to us in the audience explaining everything-without using the camera to tell the rest of the story. Odd and a huge critique of the famed movie. Mr. Smith does the same thing here.  It was too clean and there was a huge chunk of the movie that was avoided for some reason.

It was...weird.

And massively abrupt.

So? This movie plays to the middle of the road. You'll have to go and watch and tell me what you think. For me? I think Tusk might be slightly better... as a dark comedy.

Peace....

Movie Review: My Dog Tulip

Okay, so there's a movie out right now, called,"Max".  You know the story, heck, you can probably figure out the entire plot by just watching the trailer. Obviously, it's designed for children, warmongers, Cheneys and GOP members, but you get the gist. Military good. Dogs good. Mix well.  No names in the credits, save money and you have counterprogramming.

But here's the thing. If you look into the eyes of law, a dog is not a person. They are not the military hero the movie portrays.

They are a glorified gun, in reality.

Sorry, I hate to break it to. Dogs exhibit many human traits, and we, wanting so badly to see them as kin, acknowledge it. But the fact is, they are, in the end, an animal.

An animal with severe compassion for our stupid selves.

Hey, dudes, trust me, I'm addicted to my corgis. I see them as people, but my point is-we probably shouldn't. The more we see the dog under the fur, the better we can understand who they are and what they do.

Glorifing them is fun-a great movie can be born of it.

But has there ever been a movie made about the life of a dog that is, truly, about the life of a dog?

I have found one.

My Dog Tulip is nothing more than a facinating creation of an audiobook of the literature by the same name. In it, J. Ackerly, here played wonderfully by Christopher Plummer, talks about his life with his own German Shepard, from her adoption to her passing. He interjects himself as the protagonist and the experiences and ancedotes about their time together.

The film is brilliantly animated, and, from that, the coarse realities of dog rearing and husbandary are a bit more digestable. See, unlike Max, mentioned prior, this is an English point of view. The delicious language details, ad naseum at points, their life together-but that's the point. This man is living through his dog, in his twilight years. And as age slows him, his interests in enhancing her life becomes paramount.

A symbolism that would be wasted on a live action film.

Plus, Americans? We'd be sad there's not cute meeting, no cute romance, no wicked humor. Surely, there is dry humor, but it comes from Plummer's enhanced reading more than the situation. The tale is massively character based and that's also part of it's charm.

A charm that I acknowledged on social media with the comment...."it's a writer thing." The words in his movie are short of Shakespearean in approach and dictation, a love for words that shines through.

Because there's some no so pretty things that this man talks about. Tulip's getting sick; her dating habits and how to get her to breed. Not funny.

There's something genuine here and I appreciated it

I am sure, however, that not many will. You could almost choose to download it to a mp3 player and get the same wonderful experience.

See what you think. Just understand, it's not for everyone. Especially if you found the trailer for "Max" exhilirating.

Peace,
Roo

Movie Review: the Babadook

I was just reading somewhere, in that dark corner of the internet (mostly likely Reddit.com) about why, really, horror movies seem to be the only original works left in Hollywood. And it makes sense. Small cast, don't even need brand name performers, everything happens in the dark, and you can kill most of them off, so the most desparate actors will work for half the price.

And the payback will be huge, sometimes earning 100 times more than the budget.

We've seen tasty tidbits like the Blair Witch Project and Insidious. Even the Conjuring, which was incredibly true to the book and didn't have one death on screen, played to packed houses when it opened.

Now, me, I'm not an addict to horror movies like some in the realm of fandom. My cousin goes to conventions; another colleague has themed nights where he teaches people about the joys of horror movies. Heck, I've never even attended the nearby Universal Horror Nights.

However, like many, a decent scare is just as cathartic as a ride on a good rollercoaster.

That's if they are successful.

My most recent foray in horror films was one, again, recommended by a teenager friend.

If it scares a teenager, it should be decent. Of course, it might also contain graphic nudity and really bad jokes about farts.

But they insisted I try out the Babadook.

And I discovered something.

Either I'm getting old or the definition of what is scary must be changing.

Because, like the Ring before this, this wasn't very good.

Look at that adverb there, "very." The reason I'm adding it? It's because it's not too bad either. I was also drawn to this movie because it had a rare component. Jennifer Kent, a woman director. I detest I had to point that out. I should say a novice director, but, culture being what it is now, women directors are excellent-but too garldarn few. My interest was piqued.

Since this was the director's only cut so far, I cannot lay comment on her auteur abilities. If this what we are going to see from her?

She is going to make a great movie; most likely sooner than later. This film is ripe. It has a fantastic production value, taking place in a tight, darkened home with a bad lawn care. Tropes, yes, but it makes sense given the characters' depression. She rotates the camera around so all four walls are seen in a given seen. Furniture is consistent, continunity is powerful.  Also, probably because she is so new, her budget was micro. But her monster was evident, even if it was shot in shadow.

The flashes of brilliance are evident. And gives me hope with her movies.

LIke the next one.

The fault lies in the storyline and pacing.  Writing is the backbone of any horror piece and the monster, however ominious, is not given a mythos. At times, it is a mere suggestion that this might be just happening in the protagonist's head; others it seems there's a demon of sorts loose in the woodworks. But even at the end of the tale, I wasn't really sure what the threat was. We'd go from truly monsterous attacks, but the suspense would be dropped as, get this, characters just go back to bed.

Huh?

Here's the other thing. Kids today are strong than we think. In this story, a single woman, Amelia (played by Essie Davis), is raising her emotionally disabled son. However, the filmmaker makes the disabilty just a screaming kid. No complexity or reality is interjected. Heck, after a while, I started to want the monster to him. No compassion for him whatso ever. As the tale increases, she read to him a book he finds on a shelf and the monster from the book arrives to eat them.

Her husband who died in a car accident then arrives and asks for the child. The child's what? Soul? Heart? Hair? Is it the Babadook?

Without a structure to the mythology, the audience was dropped.

With imagery so vivid I could not look way. I was torn.

Hence, the term "very" good. Somewhere almost-good.  Watch it and tell me what you think.

Peace,
Roo

Movie Review: The Road

I am unsure of what brought this film to my attention; I had not read Cormac McCarthy's book by the same name. Strangely, I have read some of his shorter fiction, and his terrific use of language did not go wasted.

But they, too, in their presentation, was quite bleak.

You might want to get used to that word. It's the adjective today.

I like to think of myself as a happy person, a positive, likeable individual. Diplomatic, approachable. And, because of that, perhaps, I seek out the dark, the forced corners of rooms, to balance my manner of being. I read and write horror fiction; I love the Haunted Mansion over any postive future that Future World in EPCOT can bring.

I think by exercising such demons, I'm able to keep myself a bit more together than most. It's a risk I take, I'm sure, and one day I may just snap. But perhaps that why I found myself really into the movie based on Cormac's text.

No matter how bleak.

The tale unfolds after some kind of apocolyse. It is never detailed, never elaborated upon, nor should it have to be. It merely establishes the setting.  And the filmmaker, Joe Hillcoat, emphasizes it with an elaborate use of shades of gray-probably the best I've seen in use since Speilberg's Schlinder's List.  Darkness abounds, hope is lost and all that is left is a basic shade of a newspaper.

Into this landscape, the author and filmmaker toss two souls, Man and Boy. No proper nouns at all. That's telling us, in the audience what we are to read into the tale.

This is an allegory, folks. By not having a name, we can go ahead and inject our own fears and desires onto the protagonists. And what a journey they are taking. Whatever killed off the world, killed off all animals and all plants. Food doesn't exist. Roving bands of bandits caputure travelers and devour them.

Man is played by Viggo Mortensen, who, as I see him on screen more and more, is becoming something of a working man's Johnny Depp. Both take strange and fantastic roles whenever possible, juicy parts that are just outside of expectation and it works. Here? A doctor (it's hinted at) and his son. He cannot kill himself, but he does wish to. He cannot bring himself to kill his living son, in his case played by up and coming Kodi McPhee (he'll be the new X-Men as Nightcrawler), who, since he is a child, only sees good.

The drawback of young actors? He is a bit too clueless. Surely a child would even learn the threat of people with guns and no food, if that's the only existence you've had most of your life. But this is a quibble, for his role is nto particularly elaborate.

For all it's bleakness, it is a good movie, but I'm not using the word, "good," correctly. Good as in a sturdy movie that conveys a themetic enterprise to a conclusion.  There's a full story here, excellent imagery and strong symbolism.  It is very worthwhile.

But, understand, this is not a horror movie.  Even though the tale is horrific and the elements wherein, this isn't designed to scare you or play with supernatural elements in any way. Nor is this a piece on science fiction, a meditation of life after a disaster. It is, and this is it's strong point, a rumination of concepts of hope and dreams. They are part of our nature, just as sure as the bare necessities. These character wish to live, even when there's no reason to do so.

It is played out in a very different manner in shows like The Walking Dead, but here, the story is the thing, the drama the medium to carry out the message. Wereas I would recommend it, it would be with trepidation. This is a movie for art houses and the ilk, so taht folks can head to the coffeehouse and discuss their feelings about what they saw. This isn't one to scream and yell.

Let me know what you think?

10 OnScreen Crushes

Because I take movies so seriously, I have to, on occasion, give myself over to the fun stuff. Sometimes, movies are just eye candy, really, something for Tom Cruise or Will Smith to blow up stuff with and have us get that large popcorn. Sometimes, too, they are to move us on a level inaccessible through everyday interactions.

And, sometimes, they make us all hot and bothered.

Today is a hot and bothered day. Sure, yes, I gave these hotties some numbers, but, yeah, they're really not in any kind of heirarchy. Personally? I think this might be the perfect psychological exam to see what I like in my men, what makes me all gaga over the masculine form.

Grant you, I'm no idiot. I am so much like that famous quip from Beth, yes, I can call Elizabeth, Beth, but from Beth Taylor-"No, I don't like men. I LOVE men! I want to hold them and squeeze them!"

So here's to the silver screen and those wonderful men that make me, and maybe some of you, swoon. Maybe I'll surprise you.

10. Peter Dinklage-I first noticed this gentleman in The Station Agent, a profoundly obvious star vehicle to get him noticed, and, well, it worked.

Believe it or not, I have not seen Game of Thrones, but I don't doubt it. I have noticed him in titles like Death at Funeral, and, moreso, in 30 Rock. There, I noticed, yes, his voice and style. This is a man who oozes personality. He's the moody poet in the corner, that bad boy, that you just HAVE to sit by and hope he notices you. He has a sense of humor, but it's all of that ironic stuff that you're not sure you should laugh at. The camera is kind to him as well.

Personally? It's his freegin eyes. He could melt sunglasses.

9. Harrison Ford-My first crush. Hairy chest. Wizened deameanor. Can do action. But strong stage presence is evident. Part of the so many great movies because, well, he is a real man. The funny thing? He's not particularly macho, either. So many action stars, like Arnold, were other worldly.  Biceps too big for this reality. But Mr. Ford? He is shy when off camera. He smiles, but it's only a half smile, like he's embarassed by his abs of steel.  If he's in a title, I will do my best to pay it a visit.

8.  Jackie Chan-cute as a button, an action star who kicks ass, and hilarious in person. A sense of humor that literally boils over, even if you can't understand his accent. I will learn Chinese just to be in a movie with this man, he's that good. He's one of the few on this list I can honestly say I have seen all of his movies more than once. His smile is omnipresent, too. Watch when he appeared on the Oscars.

He's just so proud to be there. And me? I was furious when I saw him, for, basically, he's one of the largest movie stars in the world, and here? He's introducing "Live Action Short." How does that work? The dude is AWESOME. I've noticed, too, what I really like about him, what makes him so appealing is, in every fight, he makes a mistake. He is never the bad ass in the movie, even when he's the hero. If he's fighting with a female cohort? She'll land every punch; he'll muck it up and make her life difficult. The big finale only lasts so long as he keeps making mistakes like falling onto hot embers.

That makes him the fool, but it also makes him much more accessible than the Bruce Willises of the world.

And, yes, he's cute.

7.  Mark Wahlberg-you remember this scene? When Tina goes to a guy she met at work?

Yeah. Right there. You saw her looks. Now Mark is, truly, a leading man. And we're not talking the seriousness of Gregory Peck, the versatility of Jack Lemmon, or the openness of Paul Newman (btw, see below, ahem). But there's something classic about Mark. He knows his body is part of his charm. But I have never felt him to be one note. He's more like a Douglas Fairbanks. Where the action hero is evident, but the comedy is also relevant. I see him change characters and try different kinds of movies. He's played bad guys (Fear), understated teachers (the Happening), cops (The Departed), and yet finds time to even play this charmer, walk-on cameo.

And he has a chest.

He elected, too, to not go the way of the Arnold, chiming out hit after hit, either. Instead, he knows his strengths and then plays to them in a variety. I find myself wanting to see him more (and more, and more). The camera is kind to him, but there's something very basic about him-like you'd know someone like him.

I know I want to know him.

6.  Paul Newman/Robert Redford-Yeah, a two parter. Lemme start with the basics. Paul. One of the first celebrity, fudge, he was never a celebe. he was always and actor. Seriously, an actor. His wife has the same birthday as me. Anyhows, I was writing a college paper on good old Tennessee Williams. Talk about an American playwright, if ever there was one. And, as part, I had to read Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

Yes, I admit it. I was a closet case and it gave me an opportunity to read about a famous closet case who wrote a play about being closet cases without ever giving away the secret.

If you've seen the play, the male lead had a fling with the star of the football team. It's never stated, but everyone is messed up about it in the regal South, but no one says it. That being the case? Paul played the famed male lead, shirt open in the fifties, leg in a cast (read the play, that's not what this column is supposed to be about), limping about pining for the man he loved.

On a sidenote, his character was married to Beth Taylor (there she is again), which makes him REALLY gay, when you think about it.

But his intensity and angst oozed out of every poor. Not only was a great actor, he was willing-to-do-it part, no holds barred.  And we know how hot the summer nights get in the Deep South and he made it just as steamy. It was awesome and my little closeted heart had to watch that movie, twice.

Then? I was watching Indecent Proposal with a Robert Redford. Yeah, Sundance to Mr. Butch Cassidy, played by Paul Newman, in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The movie sucked, but on one reason only.

How, in the world, would someone like Bob Redford have to pay someone to go on a date with him?

This came up recently, as I watched him play the villian in Captain America: Winter Solider.

And my heart skipped a beat. That vegetarain is still got it and he's the same age as my mom. Maybe it's my living in Florida and hanging around so many seniors, but, dang, he looked great.

He's such a good actor, too, I had to fight to hate him, er, his character.

5.  Daniel Craig-I know, I'm cheating, most likely, again. I mean, seriously. Ever since my Brit Lit II teacher allowed me to read Ian Fleming's book and report on their contributions to British literature worldwide (surprise, surprise, they really have..), I have been in love with Mr. Bond, repeatedly. Moreso, I think it's the debonair, the intrigue, and the style, but, what have you.

Then there was Daniel Craig.

I first noticed him after we went to see Tomb Raider. I do love me so actioners, that I do, and Anjelina Jolie is freegin' awesome with a gun. And her male sidekick in this one?

Let's just say he hopped out of the shower in one scene and I was quickly googling who the heck Mr. Abstastic was.

Daniel Craig.  Here's the thing. This dude is like hiring a Shakespearean actor for a kid's flick. He actually has some decent acting chops to support flimsy scripts.

Example:  Cowboys and Aliens and Quantum of Solace.

And some decent abs chops. The dude helped make Dame Judi Dench keep her awesomeness.  And if you can keep your own against the best M in the film series, you're good.

4.  Idris Elba-His eyes. His eyes tell a story. I came across this Thespian when I heard his name being tossed around for the role of Balder in the first Thor movie. Everyone was up in arms about the role of his being black in a Nordic tale.

Oh please. People work with me. It's a story. And a good one.

So, when I saw the movie, and saw this huge man with the stage presence that, in 15 lines, outshone the actual lead protagonist in the movie, I was more than impressed. He even impressed me by outshining the villian as well.

I was smiten. I had to see more. Lately, he was discussed as a possible Bond, as well.

I would see that movie, please.

Here's the thing, the man has an authoriative presence that cannot be denied.

And he's a bit easy on the eyes as well. Everytime I hear him in something, I have to find out more. I want to see this performer more. Even in the shitty actioners.

He does suffer from the same problem as Daniel Craig and many other British Thesps.

Comedy. To me, that sells the performance a bit more. Daniel Craig seems to suffer the same.

3. Marlon Brando-no, not the fat one. The older one. Specifically, the one that showed up in a Streetcar Named Desire.

Showed the movie to my husband, probably the 100th time I'd watched it and even my stoic husOtter said, "well, then, hello youth."

Yes, I blame that blasted paper I wrote in college. Curse you Tennessee Williams! However, I'm noticing a trend here, by now. These men moved to the top of my lists when I was required to work with the literature they were tied to, as if, in my own way, I'd gotten to know them personally. That could be saying something of why several of these men have played such classical character.

And Marlon was one of them.

Talk about raw. One of the few performers, really, ever, to talk about the New Wave of acting (being instead of facing, as it were), of the Lee Strasberg school of acting, he was more than true to the character. He was, truly, THERE.

Not only that, he played the antagonist. The raw sexuality the other character were not understanding. He was, by all definitions, the villain. But he played it with a bit of sentiment. He actually made you pity the slug. I hated him, but I understood him and his pain on a level that was unspoken and unwritten.

That's a testament to the actor and, well, let's just look at that photo again, before time and stress tore it apart.

2. Brad Pitt-what can I say about dear Bradly? I mean, I noticed him, first off, in Thelma and Louise. A terrific movie and he did something that women had done for ages. Played the dumb blonde.

And he didn't care. This is a man who left his first wife for his second due to her sheer philantropic works. He's still with her and has acted twice with her.

That's the thing. He knew he was a pretty face. And he used it to get choice, juicy roles that did not play to it. Inglorious Basterds. 12 Monkeys. World War Z (I mean, really, a Peace Corps doctor? But then I saw the movie...).

Bradley reminds of, also, the classic Hollywood. A face that the camera is kind to, but really takes envigorating roles. It's evident he rotates parts with his ever-awesome wife, and is willing to go to many, many public events with her. He raise money with her and not afraid to be seen with her in public.

Dude. Please, please, please, play a gay character. Or don't. I don't know if my heart can take it.

1.  Chris Evans-I admit it. I put him at number one for one specific reason.

I don't care if he can act. I know. All my professionalism *foom* out the window. I knew something was up when I found myself going to see the outstanding piece of crap known as Push. Two hours of my life I may never get back, a piece of craptacular.

And yet he glorified the screen. I couldn't turn away.

However, he did do something that many should be proud of. He played Captain America to the hilt and didn't turn him into a stereotype, but something worthwhile and approachable. One of the move beloved characters in the Marvel pantheon and he's made it into something that doesn't look stupid in uniform.

In fact, his sequel, The Winter Solider?  Became a "Bourne Identity" thriller with a certain amount of symbolism about how the government has been purchased from private industry and war mongers. d

Heavy shit for an actioner.

But he does it.

And doesn't take off his shirt every 15 minutes, either.

Not that I would mind.

I saw him also in several other titles and, well, he is young, but each role gets a bit better and better, and I have hope that he'll continue to stay on the big screen long beyond his character. I learned, later, as well, that he has a younger brother who is gay. And, because of that, he knows to play to that crowd as well-and look at that impact.

Let's see Mr. Evans do a bit more. I know he's worthwhile.

Movie Review: The Eagle

Have you ever gone to a unique restaurant that was so good, you wanted to scream it from the mountaintops-and then realized that your friends hated that style or ethnic cuisine? Have you ever heard an awesome album, but can't share it with your partner because they hate pop music?

This is my current dilemma. I saw a really bold movie just this past weekend, and it was delicious, a rare treat. And I know no one would go see it. It was called The Eagle, and I only came across it due to it's Irish and Celtic overtones.

It even stars Channing Tatum. And he's acting. He's shirtless, something about his contract, I'm sure, but he's asleep and he has a blanket over him. So there's that negative, if that turned your crank. But, without the nods to his pecs, he was forced to act and, you know what, if he keeps picking titles like this, he might actually have something to go on. In this tale, he plays a Roman solider, a man who's father died in the vast wilderness of Britian.

Stop laughing. around 100AD, when this story takes place, England, Scotland, and Wales were considered untameable by the Roman Empire. So much so, Roman Emperor Hadrian built a wall dividing the country (parts still stand today) so that no Roman would venture out and be killed by those crazy Britons and Celts.

See why I was interested?

Those beserker Brits basically used guerilla tactics and the Romans were ill suited to fight such random attacks. And they killed Marcus'(Tatum's character) father and stole the family standard, a large golden Eagle emblem.  Determined to get it back, he requests to be stationed at a nearby fort and is mortally wounded when those wilders attack. He's carted back to Rome and begins to heal himself. He encounters a Briton slave, played by the completely underused Jaime Bell-and when I say underused, I mean, this kid needs to be in more movies, he's magnetic-a saves his life in a gladiator ring. Here's the tic, and it defines the movie. Does Marcus jump into the ring to save this young man and there's a huge fight scene? No. He encourages the audience to vote to let the man live.

Whoa. Reality-ish.

In fact, there's no love story. Okay, well, maybe Marcus dabbled with his slave, Erca, a bit, but it's not shown at all. In fact, there's not forced love story at all-there are no women at all in this movie. There's not one cliche, one predictable moment, not one soaring piece of music to cue us in on how we are to be feeling. Nothing is fabricated. This movie is more like it was in Rome than Russell Crowe's Gladiator ever was.

And that's why it was good. Marcus heals and uses his slave as a translator into the wilds to see if he can ge back his family's standard. In the process, he encounters the Celts of old.  They were tribal, vicious, not yet used to farming, and violent, as well as, unorganized. As the two men encounter more and more, Erca translaning the Gaelic more and more, we take the journey with them and feel the pulse of a countryside that has danger.

But not like in a horror movie or a suspense film. This is high drama and it works on a different level, as if we're watching a docudrama.

And, by now, you could see why I liked it.

And why it would be terrible for the masses in any form. Is it Oscar material? Not really. Doesn't have that scope. Everything is in poor light, costumes are muted and dirty, and the script is novel but not particularly creative in the language department.

So, like, I saw this great movie this weekend that I really enjoyed. But I doubt anyone really will ever know.

Shucks.

Peace,
Roo

In Loving Memory: Ann Rule

Memorial Day weekend of 1998. Nope, no husOtter in sight yet, and that's why I remembered it. I was solo in those days, a competiting mix of wanting to be in a relationship and fighting off loneliness; and just wanting to be left alone so I can read a book for more than an hour.

I was so single that when my mother invited me to go for a day hike and picnic in Boulder, Colorado for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I said yes.

Now, understand, I was not any kind of outdoorsy kinda guy. It's kinda the reason I eventually left Colorado. So? I did what any guy would do before the invention of ereaders and wifi. I took a radio, a stack of magazines, wore a swimsuit, and found a cheap paperback at the library.

I was looking for something spooky. I'd already conquered all the Clive Barkers I could ahve found by that point, Stephen King was already exasperated. But the librarian selling books saw me eyeing the book "The Stranger Beside Me."

"You've not read that yet?"

"No, is it good?"

"You mean, you've never read of Ann Rule?"

From breakfast to sunset and driving down from the mountains, I turned pages of this bestseller. It was exactly what I was looking for. The tale of a nice young lady who was planning to become a cop and who was volunteering at the local suicide hotline in the meanwhile. She sat next to a really hot guy, too, by the name of Ted Bundy.

Yes. That Ted Bundy.

The serial killer.

She would eventually go beyond being a cop to a police reporter for Seattle-Tacoma, and recall the tale of having a friendship with one of the most creepy killers in American history. Not only that, she wrote the book with such honor towards her friend and with a sense of suspense-she doesn't link the killer with the murders until much later in the book, when she, herself figured it out.

It's a real life horror story.

If you're interested....

I started hitting that library more and more. Her strength, however, I realized was in the smaller, singular homicides that populated her older texts, but her words were sharp. She realized she was not writing a mystery, so her observational eye was that as a cop.

And we, in turn, also became one.

I'd come across true crime before, in high school, when I read In Cold Blood. Again, excellent writing, and probably the book that started the genre. I admit, my interest was slightly purient. I had heard there were gay subtexts between the author and one of the killers and since I was massive closeted at the time; it allowed me to read that gay book without anyone questioning it.

But I was hooked. The presentation, the topics. This was no newspaper story; this was a You Are There.

I still seek out the True Crime section of bookstores.

And I still read her books, several worn paperbacks adorn my office shelves. Good stuff.  It's like she was my drug dealer!

I bring this up because my beloved author has passed. No more stories. No more making me want to become a cop or Fed.

I noticed I've been gorging today, seeking candy.

Yes, I guess it is effecting me. I noticed it with Joanie Rivers passed; and Robin Williams.  I try not to acknowledge it. But they don't know me, they've never met me.

But their work, their art, touched me on an emotional level. Ann carried me through a real life monster story and carried me out on the other side.

And with her passing, I have to acknowledge that. We lost a great author today, and, now that I'm seeing myself more and more as a writer, I have to admire that. I can only hope that one day, I can touch someone with a tale, a story, or a dream.

Peace be with you, Ms. Rule...you did right by this world.
Full report...

Movie Review: Chef

Whoa. Just whoa. A good movie that was worth watching that didn't have violence or sex.

Hollywood? Are you paying attention?

I had been meaning to watch this title for some time. The thing is, I live out in the middle of no where. To get to any of the good movies, I have to hike. That's okay, but remember, hiking takes money and time. So, sadly, I gotta see the popular stuff.

And I missed out on Chef.

A simple and direct picture.  And, like the best of them, can be interpreted several ways-as all good movies really can be. Is the Matrix an actioner or another Jesus story?  Get it? On the surface, we have the artist, or, in this case, a chef, played wonderfully smooth by Jon Favreau.  Yes, that one. The dude who made all of those big super hero movies referred to as Iron Man. After the Avengers, the creative genius Joss Whedon made a small art house Shakespeare piece, Much Ado About Nothing, a calm, direct film with terrific nuance and temperment. And now you have Favreau doing the same.

Here, the chef wishing to change and try new things. He gets his opportunity to do so when a famed critci comes to his restaurant, but the owner insists on keeping things tried and true. And the critic, played by someone who needs to make more movies, Oliver Platt, pans the place and kills his artistic spirit.

Or sparks it.

So? And this is where the film really moves away from the mold. The chef is still friends with his ex wife and totally cool terms with her. It does leave a bit of a loophole-as in, why did they separate, but, okay, whatever, she arranges for him to have a food truck. And she's also played by media's current it-girl Sofia Vergara.  With movies being so white bread these days, I am totally happy with seeing her. She's at great risk of being overexposed these days, but I don't care. This woman is hilarious, looks great onscreen, and has a personality that is magnetic. She's kinda overtly shilling for rental companies, but hopefully that will pass.

Okay, okay, back to the story.

She buys him a food truck. He travels, changes the menu with each location and--well, watch the movie. I don't think you'll need much of a stretch of the imagination to see what's going to happen. But that's okay. It's all in the display of foodie inspired passions.

Seriously, eat before you watch this movie. I'm telling you. In fact, that might be what's biasing my opinion of the piece, I mean, really. My family is ethnic. We're all about the foods. And cooking is how we show love.  So to watch two hours of a man relearning how to express love through cuisine hits me right in the heart.

I can't recommend the movie enough. It really worked for me.

Here's the part that upsets me, too. If I had seen it in the theaters, the money counters would have seen it and we'd have less reboots and more original titles. Dangnabit Roo. In that way, I'm mad.

Please people, support good movies. If you want to see somethign that no one is talking about, get to that theater.

And here's the thing. The movie makes a strong argument (one of those myriad of messages tucked away) about the need to pay attention to social media.  There's also messages and themes about being lovable when you're in your milieu. And about we're better people when we have passions. And that food is, truly, love. And we are the families we make.

See? That's a lot of ground to cover.

Or? It's a simple movie about cooking.

Your call. But watch it. And tell me what you think!

Peace,
Roo

Movie Review: The Raven

What if they threw a movie that none one really cared about?

I just spent a semi enjoyable afternoon watching the DVD selection for the movie, The Raven, and I have to say, I'm not sure why it's a bad movie, it just is.  You have good actors, a well versed script, and a very interesting premise.

But it didn't gel.  It didn't gel in the theaters; it didn't really connect for me either.

And I'm not sure why.

The idea is wholly creative.  And we know taht audiences are kinda fickle douchebags these days. Unless it's a reboot or a sequel, they won't risk seeing a new movie that might have original concepts. But that's the reason why it was coming together correctly. I'm not sure what it is.

Okay, so here's the conceit. Imagine, if you will, someone so impressed with Edgar Allen Poe that they act out his famous homicides in 1849 Baltimore. The design is great, any kid who survived reading any of his stories in high school should nod in unison when they see the set pieces of each murder. There's "the Pit and the Pendulum"; "Tell Tale Heart"; "The Cask of Amatiado".  Each story is woven together, as the serial killer hopes to get the famed author to start writing again-it is evident he is into his drink by this point and broke. The murders abound and the old school mystery unwinds.  I'm reminded of Castle on television, where the writer works with the cops to find out those details that we in the audience pretty much already are aware of.

I am mad at myself for not listing John Cusack as one of those actors who should be more famous. He pines but doesn't devour the scenery here; being I'm an author and know several gazillion, his types are very evident and I felt that he was morose enough to pull off an interesting portrayal. They play with him fast and loose, and, like his stories, the plot is the thing. This is not meant to be terrifically acted; this is not an Oscar piece or a summer movie. This is the kind of movie that is used as counterprogramming or to fill that void between Christmaskkah and summer blockbusters.

It does what it's supposed to do. It goes from clue to clue with earnestness, but, like I said, the parts just don't seem to make the whole. I think it's more of that high school memory hitting the audience. Fuck going to see a movie you had to slave through when you were 15.75 years old. No need to try to stomp through it again.

Maybe?

I'm grasping at straws. I have no idea why it didn't go over. It works. It's not exciting. It's not bad. It's sorta there If you like murder mysteries, you'll be fine. But? Beyond that?

Nada.

Peace, Roo

10 Performers with a Set of Pipes

Wow, that does sound kinda dirty, that idiom for a title, doesn't it? I mean, really.

If you're not familiar with the idiom, "a set of pipes," you're probably not going to get that much from this article. RahrahPancakeEater, another blogger, pointed out the musical talent so many in Hollywood are starting to illustrate and I realized, believe it or not, this is a long, long tradition.

Heh. Another innuendo.

So he and I started the discussion about the need for music talent, not only on the big screen, but for students all over. As Big Government does it's best to gut schools and channel their money into their private coffers, music is usually slashed first and thrown into the trash.  Which is sad, because research has illustrated, repeatedly, that, when we look at the brain, there is a truly activate portion of the intelligence that warrants recognition. Now, it varies in degees from person to person-just like visual arts and the ability to interact with others. But it's there, and it's vital.

And it's showing itself in many a performer in Hollywood.

This tradition is born, in part, from the fact that the first talkies meant that words had to be written for the big screen. Playwrights from New York hopped onto a train and headed due west. They brought their performers who had really cut their teeth on the stage-the Broadway star. if you look to a more modern pattern, every school has a school musical. Again, that aspiring performer is going to have to learn to belt out a song and dance. That analogy works for those who look to performing arts in college.

Recently, there has been a spate of performers who really have the skills that could open up a show just off of Times Square. Jake Gyllenhall is wonderful and has done numerous shows, but none them deal with a soft shoe. I'm talking about those men and women like James Cagney, who personified masculinity in a series of gangster titles, but then danced away in Yankee Doodle Dandy. He was classically trained to perform, stage or screen.

And I'm not including Babs Streisand. She's a goddess, to be sure, and, well, cheating. I'm trying to get you to find the beauty in so many voices here and to reconsider these performers and their abilities. So I'm striving for those that don't hit you right away.

Really, I elected to not number these guys. No competition here at all.

Nicole Kidman-With a brief review of her wiki entries, I cannot find any mention of her excelling in the areas of music or musical theater, but the evidence is there. Now, let's be realistic. She's classically trained and one of the few performers that can act AND model. However, her performance in Moulin Rouge! Is dynamic, powerful and, well, lyric. She takes a role we've seen hundreds of times (the hooker with the heart of gold! You'd think it'd be legal by now!) and belted it...herself. I was impressed. Do more singing, my friend! It was awesome!

Neil Patrick Harris-closeted, but liking his acting career, good ole Neil did the right thing. Finishing off Doogie Howser, he slipped, quietly, to the New York stages and honed his skills and persona for public consumption. What ended up happening is he came back, swinging, with all the theatrical wit of Oscar Wilde, while dancing and singing with a top hat. Yes, his approach to the Oscars his past season was a bit restrained, and that was understandable. Movies really hit many audiences in the heart and it's hard to please them. Tony Awards crowds are just as difficult to appease, but they also have a general understanding of the business; Emmy Awards crowds are more personal and you can take a bit of a lighter touch and tone.

In other words, I'm saying-don't use his Oscar stint to judge him. He's fantastic. I've watched him do a reading for Christmaskkah, aka The Christmas Processional, at EPCOT and he was a pro. Off book and covering the crowd. And, yes, when he sings at the Tonys, I'm all ears. He's really got a set of pipes.
(opening number from the Tonys)

Hugh Jackman-jumped onto the stage with Wolverine in 2000. But, secretly, I knew him before that with a massive crush. Yeah, Oklahoma in London which was televised.

Oh. My. Garsh.

The dude was fantastic. Has the body of Harrison Ford, the machoichmo of Arnold, and the voice of an angel.  James Cagney was reborn, right there, in front of me. He uses that stage presence to work us in the audience, and, really, it's sad. People seem to only like him being Wolvey. But he got a nomination for Les Mis. And he was incredible. Better? He, too, hosted the Oscars and I give him credit. I really felt like I was watching on of those movie stars from the 40s when he was on the stage. He had that vaudevillin approach that you don't see on the boards these days. Come back! Do the show with Neil!

Gwynth Paltrow-supposedly, she had a hit single with Huey Lewis over in Australia, but, hey, whatevs. I think Gwynth, kinda of like acting royalty (she's the daugther of Blythe Danner, who I truly love-and also has a hefty theater pedigree), has been trained in all the good things that make a stage performer great. She may be terrible at handling the press (I think because of her royal lineage, she's never really had a good reality check), but when she's onscreen, she's fantastic. She turned a one note role as Pepper Potts, a secretary, into a Gal Friday in several movies and then, ultimately, the turning point in Iron Man 3.

That has nothing to do with singing. I came across that with her wonderful turn on the television show Glee. Movies are one thing, television is another. But she had a grace and voice poise to sell the the wonderful absurdity of the quirky musical program and I was impressed. Get thee to the neon lights of Broadway!

Cher--Yeah, I went there. Okay, in my book, Cher is not a true singer, I hate to admit. She sang pop, an easy target in the 60s and 70s. And, better, her husband was a firebrand marketer and got her to be famous.
But watch her in movies. She has been handed glorious scripts and she really takes her time with her acting choices. Mermaids? Suspect? Okay, she can be forgiven fo the star vehicle, Burlesque, but otherwise, watch her in Moonstruck. There's a breeze about her that shows she's a true performer, completely relaxed in front of an audience.

And the costumes at the Oscars...completely with sly jokes and winks. But then she remade pop songs all over the airwaves and they are terrific Pride float parade footstompers.  Good stuff that made us give her, also an Oscar.

She's got singing ability, but her strength? Acting.

I'm seeing a trend here with the singers and performers...awards. That should say something.

Ewan McGregor--See Nicole Kidman. Moulin Rouge was a mixed bag of production, but it gave a chance for some beautiful singers to really shine.  Ewan has consistently risen above any material he's cast in (I'm looking at the Star Wars movies and I Still Love You) and has a unique Scottish broque that makes his voice easily recognized. So, I knew, exactly, when he started belting out the post modern tunes. So? Give him another musical!

Anna Kendrick--One of the fun things I love to do is see as many of the Oscar nominees when they are announced every year. And one year, Up In the Air, and this teenager looking young lady showed up. Short and waif appearing, she came on like a powerhouse and garnered a nomination. I had no idea about her singing ability until freakin' "Cups" hit the airwaves. Couple that with an onstage singing with Neil at the Oscars and an appearance in the Pitch Perfect movies, as well as, Into the Woods, she's really someone who should be onstage instead of onscreen. Anyone who can sing anything by Sondheim is worthy of respect.

Anne Hathaway--sang at the Oscars wtih Hugh; got an Oscar for singing in Les Mis (yes, I cried with her and wanted to just hand her the award right there).  Had stage wit comedic timing and is great onstage and onscreen. She's a fucking goddess. I mean, she even did Catwoman in The Dark Knight Rises. This is someone who deserves equal pay and should be a marquee name.

Jaime Fox--talk about a powerhouse. The dude can open movies, has musical training since 5 years of age and still wows them in the rows. He even did the arthouse gig with Django Unchained. Impressive. His Oscar was for Ray. That should say enough.

Kelsey Grammar -Sang his own credits, for Frazier, and has openly admitted his preferrence fo stage over screen. He has rarely done movies, as television tends to be more like theater with a stage and rehearsals.  He practially sings when he speaks!!!

Peace out
Roo

Movie Review: Ant-Man

Superhero movies are weird. If we see people walking around in our world with such zany costumes, we either figure they're on their way to a convention or some sort, or that they're nuts and loving breaking society's norms.  But superhero movies are the wave right now, the Most Popular Thing. And people are buying tickets. There's sequels and interconnected storylines, bad baddies and do-gooders with great abs.

It's wonderful.

But it's weird.

And, until Deadpool opens, we'll have to satisfy our realization that this world doesn't really work within the rules of reality with such wonderful schlock as Ant-Man.

Instead of explosions, we have a brief and sincere tale of a thief hired to heist a piece of superhero equipment-the MacGuffin, if you will-and, of course, he'll become the hero he was meant to be. Of course, we've been down this road before. I'm not giving any spoilers by giving you that one sentence encapsulation.

This time around, it's Paul Rudd, who, in all honesty, one of the best actors out there, but, for some reason, likes his mumble comedies. I guess they pay the bills and keeps his fans happy, and this movie actually plays to them, as well as, all of those comic book fans who rarely venture beyond Big Bang Theory.  Paul Rudd plays Scott Lang, and, in desparate need for cash upon release from the slammer, steals the suit the hero the Ant-Man, once owned by Dr. Frank Pym, played by Michael Douglas.

If you shiver at bugs, well, yes, they are on the table there...and every where with a bloody title like Ant-Man!

I'm telling you, you've seen this movie before. There are no surprises.

In terms of the plot that is.

See, you have really good performers here and they take the familiar story and play with it, and with a certain sincerity. In effect, this movie is very aware of how weird this whole Marvel Cinematic Universe is. They have running gags about the Ant-Man's name, size jokes, whistling "It's a Small World," stuff that make this focus very different from the bruiser-fests that end up on the screen as in the Avengers and Age of Ultron.

Don't get me wrong, those movies are good too, and the perfect ending to a summer's evening.  Drive-in spectatulars, if you will.

But this film's lighter tone is, by far, more approachable and the giggles are much needed. The pace is still that of an actioner, with ticking clocks and deadlines. But it seems the characters are aware of what they're doing and work to that happy end. Easter eggs permeat the works as well, so that all the fans of the comic books won't walk out after their popcorn's bag is empty.

Should you go see it? Why wouldn't you? It was made for mass consumption without my help. Enjoy.  It's good stuff.

I liked it. Sorta like drinking a large, ice-cold Coke. Refreshing and sweet, but, ultimately, just another drink.

Peace,
Roo

Wait, it's a choice?

I just stumbled across this. I say "stumbled" because I don't read the news, I tend towards what's posted on other people's blogs.

This is a person running for the Presidency.

I just gotta say, "wha?"

I can assure him, it's not a choice.

ARTICLE (Click to read, video there too)

But, really? I would love to know, from my non-gay friends (they seem to be a majority by this point), when, oh when did they choose to be straight? When were they tempted to go gay? Cause I never was tempted. It was just...what I was. I fought it, yes, but there was no choice.

Oh dear Fate, this is a concern.

Peace,
Roo