The WETA Effect...

This author points out something I, perhaps didn't consider, when it comes to special effects in movies. I've tended to blame scripting for the holes I'm encountering when watch special effect-laden pictures, and, by-and-large, that still holds up. However, this gentleman points out, by animating the background, they're pushing the audience farther away from relatability.  Take a look...

What do you think?

Peace,
Roo

Pivot Questionnaire

As I start to blog just a bit more, I decided to, perhaps, just answer a few of Mr. Pivot's famous questions, made known via the famed television program, "Inside the Actor's Studio." The program, itself, is actually wonderful. A talkshow that actually deals with the art of creativity and creating.  At the end, after questions have been asked, Mr. Lipton asks these ten questions. So? Here we go....

1. What is your favorite word?

Peace.  I think that's self explanatory. I use it as a sign off, but, also, as a reminder. We only get one chance at this.

2. What is your least favorite word?

Hate. It's really noticeable this week. When Obama was elected, many of my friends of African American decent were estatic and rightfully so. And then, right there, on social media, others said some awful, awful things. They could have felt them, that's alright, but wait until the fervor had reduced. I look to this week, with it's wonderful announcements of marriage equality and, *boom*, the haters, like vultures, swoop in to make sure everyone shares in their created misery.
3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?

I have many, many muses and most of them are mundane. I look at a rushing brook and imagine a young boy caught in the current and being wisked off to horrors downstream.  I hear a clap of thunder and wonder about the pain it has caused. These things are immediate and without my control. However, they do tend to surface when I'm relaxed. I noticed my husband, when he's relaxed, suddenly is flustered with energy. God forbit we're in a Disney Park somewhere. But there is one muse that is always relied upon to keep my brain active and a-flurry. Him. My beloved. He takes me on those adventures, his statements challenge me to think even more. He reminds me to meditate; when I am sad, he brings my emotions back to where they should be. Him. He's my "turn-on."

4. What turns you off creatively, spiritually or emotionally?

I wish I could say, "hate" again, but that's also not very true. I mean, when I encounter hate, they, too, end up in a tale or causing me to post something or write a letter. So that doesn't work. I'm actually, well, going to go in a very normal direction here. Sleep. Sleep kills me. A long day of work, when I should be writing, when I should be digging into my soul? Bamm. Out.  I should be reading! Nah.  Laziness and staring at the television. That kills me, that turns off my creative mind. Probably good I said that. I kinda see that now. 

5. What sound or noise do you love?

Having worked with the hearing impaired for more years than I haven't, sound is a weird thing for me. I need it, but just because the silence is something I'm so accustomed too. Remember, too, when I look on social media, to me, taht has a sound-even if it's written word. But it rings in my head as audible, I respond to it like a heard noise. But there's one sound I totally imagined when I read this question just now. Laughter. True, unmitgated laughing. Not the kind that comes from the spoils of induced pain (that does have it's place, however), but the giggles and snorts that hit us and lift us. 

I remember once we had this shitty-ass movie in theater three. "Weekend at Bernie's."  Corpse humor that Family Guy would be proud of.  Crap. Empty houses when it played. Then? THis senior couple comes in, stormy night, needed something to do after ice cream, and they got tickets. I'm sitting in my office, working on payroll and I just hear this laughter. Not just laughing, but, like, deep breathing and unable to catch their breath. I sent in an usher and he brought me in. The couple was losing control on the whole thing. Just couldn't keep it in. And I elected to not stop them, they weren't bothering a single person. And my whole staff just loved it. They came out, smiles big, telling the concessions to go see it.

I see it at the exit of something like Space Mountain. Just smiles and laughter. 

We have such a limited time on this earth. You gotta laugh. And a deep, joyful one.

 
6. What sound or noise do you hate?

I want to say, "weeping," but that, too, has a place in this universe. We are entitled and must feel saddness every once and a while. 

No. The noise I hate? This is weird. 

Repetition. 

Repeating ourselves. When someone doesn't get it the first 8 times. Why does this create my ire? I know about the joyous haters that are celebrating marriage equality right now. Oh, you don't think they're celebrating? They are. This plays right to them. Now they can play that victim card again and again using the same tired words without improving their arguments. They have suffered. They're in pain. And everyone's against them. They're heading to Starbuck's they're so upset. 

7. What is your favorite curse word? (stars with pre and post indicators will suffice)

My mother blessed me with the wit and verve of a bookish Irishman. To ask me my favorite swear word is to ask me my favorite food. I love words, plain and simple. They compose so much of my life. However, if I were to really echo-locate one? The one that gets me going? F**k. It is so good. Happy. Sad. Verb. Adjective. Noun. Angry. 

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

Well, you're looking at it. What I would do to be a full time writer. Just writing. Screenplays. Teleplays. Or? Acting. I don't have the model looks, but I think I could be someone on the screen of some sort. I keep thinking a sitcom. Lastly? An Imagineer. I would love to create for a living, I'm thinking I'm saying. 

9. What profession would you not like to do?

Anything in the world of medicine. I don't think I could handle when my mistake kills someone. Or that I prescribe something and they end up a vegetable. No way.  

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

"You did well, my friend. You did right."

Well? Peace....

Movie Review: Jurassic World

My friend posted an article about there not being any leading men left in Hollywood.

I beg to differ.

The author points out the same arguement we in the entertainment business always love to make on slow writing days. "It's just not like it used to be." We'll watch a classic movie, like my favorite, Casablanca, and wonder who would take the place of Rick in a remake or something. We can never find that perfect person and then we'd quip, "yeah, there just isn't any star like that any more."

I've caught myself making the same comment on numerous times.

The fact is, that's just not true, folks.

When a performer is skilled, they take the written page and make it come alive, complete with the quirks and complexities that make a character become a person.

Case in point: Jurassic World.

I really wanted to hate this movie.

The world is a bad place right now. A really bad place.  We, the American people, are under the thumb of corporations. I know it sound like a manifesto, but hear me out. Everything is about making that bottom line and making money, for, like four white dudes who have so many houses, we'll never find them. They own the government and they own the media. And? It means that creativity is shafted for money making. Indie films exist. But if you want to see them, they have to go under the radar. The only movies that are greenlit have to make money. That means sequels or reboots. You can see it on Broadway. Tourists won't waste their dollars on the new musical. They know nothing about it. But if the musical was based on a movie they already saw? Sure!

Hollywood sees this. This summer's releases are all reboots. Or franchises. I want so badly to hate them all.

I really, really do.

But I can't?

Because of a leading man.

And the article states that there's just not any good men left.

I saw a brief clip from Jurassic World and, like my buddy, Joss Weadon, I saw it as sexist and deserving of derision.  I saw charicatures spouting dialogue that was cut from a Lee Majors film in the 70s. It hurt my heart.

See, I had seen the original movie in 1993 with a dude I was totally crushing on.  And I had read the original book as well. But I put those hopes and dreams to bed. And started the full-blown hating on this "World."

My love for filmgoing overcame me. Nothing has been playing. Everyone on social media was swooning over this movie. I laced up my popcorn and headed out to the multiplex.

A-hating I would go! A-hating I would go!

And then Chris Pratt zoomed onto the screen. I had noticed him prior in my beloved Parks and Rec.  He took a one-note character of schlub and made him into something zany enough that I was reminded of so many Marx brother zingers. Almost surreal, heady jokes, that he sold on his chrisma alone.

Guardians of the Galaxy came next. A majorly funded, big screen release that was not a sequel OR a reboot. And, here's the tic, he was still funny with the character, but there was a slight change there. A different character.

And I noticed something.

He was a leading man. Good looking, but able to sell a 'superheroes in space' saga with a certain kindness that the whole 'orphan' bit helped us connect with him. His range is a bit limited, but I'm slowly starting to realize there's something more there in his potential.

Jurassic World gives more credit to him.

You just watched that terrible scene. That poorly written scattershot, sexist sequence.

But it dries up as soon as it spews out. In fact, the spectacle of the movie really does carry the weight of this flick. Is it good? Sorta. It's fun and so very loud, you might even notice that you've been here before with the same characters yelling the same things. I've always pointed out that with the increase and ease of special effects, decent writing is paramount. There's no decent writing here. It's truly a B-movie.

Look at Chris' character, Owen. He was in the Navy. And now he's training dinos. Exactly WHY is he on Isla Nublar again? Does anyone know? Or do we care because he's just doing the things we need him to do for a variety of action sequences? Pretty much. But Mr. Pratt is talented enough to move above the wobbly presentation and make us want to go on the journey with him. This, my friends? This is what makes a leading man.

Is the movie? Very much so. Jolts and surprisingly little bloodletting, even though we see many, many redshirts get munched upon. Only one spews any kind of gore. Exactly how does that work? Oh, Universal needed kids to go see the movie, so, edit, edit, edit. But, yes, I did find myself tense. Not because I really cared if anyone in particular died (several should have), but because I had no idea how the complicated action sequences would pander out. That's okay. It's been the salt-and-pepper of every martial arts movie.

It does work on the big screen, where the dinos are comparable to their size and, well, since many of you, dear readers, don't live near a Universal Studios theme park, such things might fulfill the void of a roller coaster. Nothing really to see, just lots of ups and downs.

So, basically, Jurassic World is a very expensive B-Movie, built for the drive in. You cannot help but NOT like it. It's built to put butts in seats. But, in the end, no new ground has been covered.

My friend, who posted that original article did ask, "so, Roo, what do you think are the true American male leads, then?"

Here are some performers that are worth visiting every time they're on the screen.

Matthew McConnaughey
Denzel Washington
Channing Tatum
Robert Downey, Jr.
Vin Diesel (yes, I said it)
Tom Cruise (as much as I hate him, he is magnetic and can act...he just takes shitty roles)
Jim Carrey (an INCREDIBLE performer but Americans are too stupid to see him outside of anything but comedy)
Ben Affleck (he is something of a Masshole and tends to, like Tom Cruise, handle the press very poorly)
Matt Damon
Michael B Jordan
Miles Teller
Antonio Bandaras

The list goes on and on. And you have an opportunity to see one of these leading men as he rises. I hope his success continues. I'd like to see him do more.

Peace

It was Father's Day on Sunday

For years, I've been sneaky. Every year on Father's Day, I'd make a decent, but not grand, breakfast for the husOtter. I'd take him out to lunch. I'd give him one thing or another that he had remarked. I'd not wrap it; I'd not actually admit taht it was for Father's Day.

Then?

We moved to Florida.

I'm not sure what came over me. I finally added a card and some wrapping and the light bulb clicked. It was a good feeling before. It was like I always recognized him for who is and why, again, he's so important to me, my family, and this corner of the universe we call home.  I give him small gifts all the time; I give him kudos whenever the time allows. He never questioned it at any point.

And it took him until he got cards that he, truly, was a father-figure.

I don't mean that in any prurient manner, either. I know there's a huge "daddy" fetish that floats around; I know there's a huge crossover into the Bear sub culture. It meant that I valued his role in the family unit.

See, cause, I'd do the same on Mother's Day. It only became a big deal when I moved and gave a card for him on Father's Day. I noticed, for some reason, that when we got our puppy, and tacked it onto seeing him interact with others, kids, our cat, our other corg, that, yes, he was befitting a Father stereotype. No humor, no irony. Just something I noticed.

It was a wonderful Father's Day.

Something interesting, however, did happen this year that made me stand up and take notice of the holiday that I never had before. Now, understand, I buried the church-right-idiots long ago when they sang their, "you didn't have any strong father-figures" in your life eons ago. My Big Brother mentor was a cop and showed me how to shoot a gun. My stepdad taught me all the stuff about cars I like to think I needed to know. My older brother was enough of a fucknut that I learned wrestling at age 3 and how to be an assholic bully by age 10. Manly men shit came at me in a rapid pace-and I figured it out in a early point in my life. No. I"m gay because I was born that way. In my heart. In my head. Nothing to do with the men in my life. Or everything to do with the men in my life. Or something.

Being gay, I had also resigned that I wouldn't be a parent without a heavy dose of assistance.

Like a uterus.

Either a rental or a full out purchase of one.

And uteruses are parently expensive. I had accepted this as a possiblity and I was okay with it. I had to make my peace with it. For I came from an ethnic family and there was the ongoing stressors of family making that come with that. Kids means the family goes on. So even brief humor at the family Christmaskkah shindig carries a hidden weight that would always have to deal with. I made my peace with that too.

Then shit happens.

Florida hates gays. Most of the state is founded in the Deep South, who, about a week ago, figured out that the Civil War was a racist endeavor about a week ago and seems to be surprised.  So hating gays is about as simple as being a Southerner. So, moving here I knew, even if wanted kids, I couldn't. I was cool with that.

Since I had made my peace.

But they fucking removed the law.

So much for keeping an external locus of control.

It's easy to blame the government when they have a schmuck-ton of laws, but when it comes clear that all avenues are open and there really isn't any excuses.

And the floodgates opened. I started thinking again. I felt this inkling. This feeling deep down.

I went ahead and dragged out the checklist. I had found a job that I enjoyed that involved working with children.  I had only worked with middle school and high school before and that was painful enough to keep me away from the pines of parenthood. Now? the joys were in front of me. Secondly, time had passed me. I have more gray than black/brown hair. My husOtter's turning 50. Wait. I live in Florida. They keep having kids down here. 90 year olds. Thanks fertility. Luckily, my job keeps me in touch with many how are miserable. They'll have a kid with all A's in their classrooms and they'll wonder why they're not A+'s.

That part stuck in my head.

Hardly enough to not become a parent.

THat's when I realized, deep down, parenthood is inherent. It's like being gay, it happens deep in the noggin', an inkling, that is part of being. It's vital; it's hardwired into our existence.  We are born to make kids and keep the DNA a-flowing.

I doubt I'll ever have kids; I've raised enough in this lifetime. But I wanted to take this post to realize that, in the end, I guess I did really want to be a dad.  And I think I'd be a pretty good one, too.

Happy Father's Day. To me, my family, my husOtter and to anyone else, man or woman, capable of standing up for it.

Peace.

Five Things that They Need to Make Documentaries About:

As an educator, there might be one thing that bests standardized testing for totally antagonizing experiences in the classroom environs.

Public speaking units.

Kids are scared, they can’t write to begin with and they’re all voer the map. I try to lessen the pain by letting them pick their topics about things they love and adore. Of course, this is akimbo to asking them to rebuild Brooklyn Bridge.  They whine and kvetch and talk about how horrible of an educator I am by asking them to work on something they enjoy.

Gee, what was I thinking?

But, sometimes, just once and while, there is a cord that is hit. The one girl who loved the pop singer Usher so much that she actually created a powerpoint presentation that rivaled a VH-1 “Behind the Music” episode.

And I’m not a fan of Usher.

With her presentation? I was.

Another student elaborated on remote control cars. I could never get this student to turn in homework, let alone look up from his paperbacks.  Let him talk about his five RC cars?

Gold.

I, too, seriously contemplated buying such a toy after his presentation.

It was that good.

The fact is, when someone loves someone or something so much, if they can express their feelings correctly, even the diehard anti-something-or-other really can come to love it too. I really had little feeling about guns until I saw Bowling for Columbine,  or thought I knew all the stories of the Holocaust until I indulged in Shoah.

Documentaries, when done correctly, take you to much better places.  Now, there is one caveat I should implore you, Dear Reader, to recognize. All documentaries, no matter how much they look like a slick BBC production, all contend with horrible bias. Once a watcher is okay with the person’s opinion, go with the flow.

Now, my first list, as I was contemplating, I realized was truly graced with White Man’s Burden. Nothing of weight, nothing of heft. Seriously. The world might be falling apart around us, if you were listening to the media, and I was acknowledging none of it. So? I reconsidered my choices.

Then I saw this:

This is a fucking documentary about “Sounding Gay.” Fuck. I was riveted.

So, I guess, truly, it is the eye of the beholder, in this situation. It doesn’t matter what I pick as my documentaries. They will probably reflect me more-the depth comes from the filmmaker and the relevancy. Not by my choices.

If I were a documentarian? Here’s some things I would not mind seeing-

Education:  I refuse to watch the corporate shrill of Waiting for Superman, a pure self-justification for channeling money to private schools only the wealthy congressman can afford. I hate it when I hear of teachers watching it. Instead, I would love to see the powerful sway private industries have over congress. A large governing body that had no children in the fight. It needs to cover how we lag behind so many other countries in the world (in fact, we don’t), yet refuse to enact their successful systems.  Instead, publishers swayed the states to enactlonger, unvalidated (IE: the tests are measured on grade level appropriateness-they’re just….written) tests and then use that to judge the system and then, when failed (they wrote the tests, after all), remove money that can be channelled into, yep, their private coffers and for their private schools. There’s a huge conspiracy here. And it’s hiding in plain sight.

Deaf Smith:  I saw some posts recently about Caitlyn Jenner and it was bit upsetting. Not her coming out, that’s awesome. But the fact that many people decided to air their transphobia and talk about her not being a hero.

THAT bothered me.

A hero is defined in many, many ways, I hope people realize that. My mother, for all that she’s been through, is my hero.

And she’s never beat up anyone.

I’ve looked up to the legend of Harvey Milk, an out gay man who played the politics game and won.  A hero, yes, and never had to join the military.

So? WHen it came to this column, I pondered the concept of hero. I needed a hero that defied the norm and stood up by just being himself.

Deaf Smith: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deaf_Smith

A full-on Deafie who fought for Texas...and won! How cool is taht? I can’t help there are so many heroes out there that just aren’t getting noticed. Here’s one. Let’s see it happen.

When Gay was Okay:  Currently, I’m reading about the Gay Rights movement from before Stonewall. That, in and of itself, would be a great movie-there are several lines of importance in there-but they mention so many things that happened in ancient history in relation to homosexuality and no one seems to mention.

Gay sex was acceptable in Greece. In Samurai Japan. With the Huns. There was even symbolic marriages. I shit you not.

Then Christianity happened. They needed followers and babies to keep their business moving forward. So? Made anything that didn’t make babies illegal. No touching. No same gender coupling.

But there’s a history there. Even the History channel took a stab at it iwth the History of Sex, but, well, that tended towards the other end of the spectrum.

A Writer’s Life for Me: I find that everyone wants to read my stories, but, since they know me, they’re always trying to find links to my reality and the fictional accounts I create.

Then I diatribe about who is based on who follows.

But what about a series of authors writing their latest works? Following them on a daily excursion and then, alongside, having someone digitally animate their tales as they compose? I’d love to see if they run in parallel-or don’t!!!!

A Walk in the Park: A few people I used to hang with are starting up a documentary about themselves and their fandom, ala Trekkies and other movies about being addicted to something that isn’t immediately health impairing. It got me thinking, too, about there is something there-but what about those that make the magic happen?

I go to Disney much more than normal people should healthly should. I cannot stop. I read twenty blogs trying to get some step up, some moment in time that will keep the happy going for me. I don’t think it’s a bad thing and it says volumes about how my brain and personality works. Some are Jesusfreaks. Some like Star Trek to the point of costuming.

It’s all in how you use it.

But every once and awhile, there’s a moment, a blink into the open door behind the counter- and my brain starts to tick. Even as recently as this weekend, a light was left on while I was going to plunge to my doom on the Tower of Terror and I was transfixed. I couldn’t help leaning away fro the storyline that I had heard a gazillion times and wanted to know what was just beyond there. It ruined the magic, yes, but not for me. No one, I believe noticed.

And it got me thinking.  

What about a behind the scenes documentary, one of those 24 hours in the land of dreams and joy? I say, follow three families and three employees over a day at the Walt Disney World resort and see what all happens and the stress of making others happy.

Or? What about widening it to the world? Each one of the parks as it goes through one day. But, aha, there’s the rub, you can’t go anywhere else. Just the parks, all cameras activited on the same day, no excuses.  Personnally? I think it would expand just beyond the fans. It would talk about what the tourists don’t experience. That the smiling, minimum wage, job is oging through hell to keep you higher ups cheerful and not yelling at them. I think that’s saying something.

Abs of Steel (tales of the incurably healthy):  I go to the gym and it’s massively discouraging. Truly. I see men my age, who are blessed, drink their special kale protein shakes and have abs a person can rebound bullets off of. I’ve switched to heading over there in the morning, since my vacation has arrived and I noticed something. They’re still there. The little hottie McBeefwhistles are there, in the morning too.

Then I realized something. They are there constantly. And the gym is very, very expensive. What do they do for a living? I have noticed a trend. Some work for the gym directly. Some are service members like firepersons and cops. But, still, that amount of exercise they complete has to be incredible. And the diet to keep it.

The ponderances continue. How does having a six pack really change their lives? I look to my husband and he doesn’t have to do a thing about it. They just magically appear and he eats another 22 cookies. Rahrahpancakeeater chows down at a buffet and then wonders what speedo would look best for going into the tanning booth.

But such beautiful things are under a person’s shirt.

Surely, being so blessed must have a result in daily living. LIke being able to suddenly do four hundred crunches at the Starbuck’s.

I noticed, recently, since moving to Florida, that people still die. And their abs? It’s not usually on display, for some reason.  I guess I’m starting to wonder the purpose of such an endeavor? It is to conquer the limitations of society’s food craze? Like running a marathon, to prove something?

I want to know. And there’s a documentary in that. Please don’t make it pornographic, either. Just document.

So? Lemme get some popcorn....Lemme know what you think!