I just had to go to this conference in the mountains this past week, and I was alright with going. Sure, I was alone, but the drive was through some of the most beautiful terrain, so I had zero concerns as the roads twisted and turned, attempting to make me barf with motion sickness.
See, I hate driving. Three hours stood between me and the meetings. I stacked up on CDs and the portable DVD player for when I got there.
One hour in, I looked over and saw what I referred to in the past as a 'creamer truck. A long, silver cylinder being hauled by a Mack or a Peterbilt through the narrows of I-70. Behind it, I knew for sure, a bright red Mack followed.
And my mind flew back to seeing this title last week, when a Mack truck was doing the same thing...only making faces in the rear end of the silver cylinder.
Yes, after seeing this movie once, I memorized everything.
You see, in our neat little nation of ours, the car-culture rules. That is why this gas problem hits us so profoundly; this is why Europe giggles at us so.
We cannot help it, we love our cars. I hate driving. I LOVE my truck. My family's heart orders like this: my partner, my dog, my truck. Why is this?
The debate would be long on the philosophical, but I will point to this little movie that could. Cars exists because of our car culture; Cars streamlines that love into something just as magicial as every other Pixar title.
Pixar. As you know, Disney imploded it's feature animation unit and bought out this tiger of a studio. Six pictures later, the energy has not waned, keeping Disney in the limelight--and will probably keep doing so. Disney's older studio was just as good. With it's feature animation unit, Disney chose famed tales of different cultures, tooled and edited them and gave them a zing and spit them back out for the masses. The masses did not mind, for the stories were streamlined and highly creative on various levels.
Pixar was formed outside of their jurisdiction, and as such, was given a creative leeway that the feature animation unit could not enjoy. Not that it mattered--the themes picked by then-enfant studio were just as deep and meaningful as the main features. They each had a deep felt theme (some amoung them? Toy Story's undying friendships, the use of creativity in A Bug's Life, the famed 'quest' of yore becoming the focus of Finding Nemo) that was conveyed through the audiences ability to relate to the characters on screen. How does a human relate to bugs, toys, monsters and in this case, cars?
Damn good writing, that's how.
Remember that car culture comparison I noticed before hand? The authors of the screenplay must have noticed it too, for the people watching this film really do relate to the talking vehicles onscreen. In this Pixar outing, a young hotshot racer pulls a three way tie with an old retiring machine and another upstart. Having to move the race to California, the three board their trucks and head west on the Interstate. Our hero, with nods to Steve McQueen, is named Lightening McQueen accidently finds himself on the old Route 66 passage--and in the old town of Radiator Springs. He destroys the cities main throughofare and is sentenced to fixing it. The forced time forces him to slow down and realize that life in the fast lane does pay off as much as he wishes.
Okay, that's pretty deep for what has become, for many, a kids format for film. But Pixar pulls us in by starting first with a slam-bang opening sequence that, to my brain and eyes, was so photo realistic, peeling my eyes from the silver screen was not an option. From there, it, as Disney has trained them to do, relies on the actor's to truly act their parts--and by having big names this becomes the result in their entire bevy. Paul Newman came out of retirement to play a Hudson Hornet, dangnabit, he really does look like car, I'm afraid to say. Poor guy. His voice, all gravelly, even carries the sound of engine dying. Whoa.
The only drawback is that by showing what life is like 'in the slow lane,' the picture also slows--and with all the high energy in pictures beforehand, the audience loses that spark for a bit. It does return, but the pace is uneven.
Lastly, even the credits are good. Yes, entertainment even pops up during the credit. But with movies this satisifing, why would you want to leave? No one does, so they even give you fun stuff to watch then as well.
If we had more movies like this, boring summers would not exist.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Friday, June 16, 2006
Movie Review: X-Men 3
I read an interesting article in the Advocate a few days before seeing this movie. It talked about why people like my partner and myself have such a liking to comic books and their many facets of television and movies. It was an editorial, but it made a good point--super heroes tend to live a double life like many gays and lesbians.
Not mention, they are hot, but we don't need to elaborate there.
Still, that's why so many of my kin ran to the movies when "X-Men" opened up. The whole story line of being 'different' and having to survive in a discriminatory world was profoundly (and sadly) too easy to relate to. I took "X-Men" probably more strongly than most.
I knew I was going to see this movie. I was nervous, being a cineast and knowing from my sources some of the changes they were making (Juggernaut as a mutie? Where's Bryan Singer's style? Why did James Marsden leave?). But I had no choice in those matters.
This film, like others I've seen this summer--is slightly better than most, but really doesn't have the power or skill of the first two. First off, as mentioned, characters are toyed with. They show up, like friends at a graduation party, but don't do much else then eat the dip and leave early. The first storyline involves the return of Jean Grey. Only now, she's evil. So evil that she destroys things. ALot. Why? I'm not sure, other than she's angry.
See what I mean? The story isn't quite right. The main protagonists flit between all the violence but don't become anything more by the end of the story. No one changes in their attitudes.
And they are given such great opportunities to send a message during this movie. A second storyline involves finding a cure for all of mutantkind. Imagine that and the impact it has on gay culture. How many of us hear the tales of 'ex-gays?' How many of my friends have wanted to not be what they are born to be? That's heady stuff and gives this film some gravitas.
But it is not played out. Merely mentioned to give both sides action sequences as they fight over it. So the concept is there, but the execution is not.
I so wanted to like this movie, and, in many ways, it is decent--but far from the end of a trilogy. I am very open to adaptations--I totally understand the need to play with storylines. But I have a problem when the plot detracts from the overall theme of a piece. There's a great message here, a way for nongays to understand something that they might not experience. It is as if the filmmakers did not have confidence in the message they were sending and decided to go for the gut with one more fight scene.
Unfortunate. So, yeah, it's good. But my heart kinda ached a wee bit after seeing it.
Not mention, they are hot, but we don't need to elaborate there.
Still, that's why so many of my kin ran to the movies when "X-Men" opened up. The whole story line of being 'different' and having to survive in a discriminatory world was profoundly (and sadly) too easy to relate to. I took "X-Men" probably more strongly than most.
I knew I was going to see this movie. I was nervous, being a cineast and knowing from my sources some of the changes they were making (Juggernaut as a mutie? Where's Bryan Singer's style? Why did James Marsden leave?). But I had no choice in those matters.
This film, like others I've seen this summer--is slightly better than most, but really doesn't have the power or skill of the first two. First off, as mentioned, characters are toyed with. They show up, like friends at a graduation party, but don't do much else then eat the dip and leave early. The first storyline involves the return of Jean Grey. Only now, she's evil. So evil that she destroys things. ALot. Why? I'm not sure, other than she's angry.
See what I mean? The story isn't quite right. The main protagonists flit between all the violence but don't become anything more by the end of the story. No one changes in their attitudes.
And they are given such great opportunities to send a message during this movie. A second storyline involves finding a cure for all of mutantkind. Imagine that and the impact it has on gay culture. How many of us hear the tales of 'ex-gays?' How many of my friends have wanted to not be what they are born to be? That's heady stuff and gives this film some gravitas.
But it is not played out. Merely mentioned to give both sides action sequences as they fight over it. So the concept is there, but the execution is not.
I so wanted to like this movie, and, in many ways, it is decent--but far from the end of a trilogy. I am very open to adaptations--I totally understand the need to play with storylines. But I have a problem when the plot detracts from the overall theme of a piece. There's a great message here, a way for nongays to understand something that they might not experience. It is as if the filmmakers did not have confidence in the message they were sending and decided to go for the gut with one more fight scene.
Unfortunate. So, yeah, it's good. But my heart kinda ached a wee bit after seeing it.
Movie Review: The DiVinci Code (warning: spoilers)
Sorry it took so long to post, friends. The blogsite's been having troubles uploading my posts and I decided to just write at home. Hopefully, we're back in business--especially since I sent some of you all emails!
Like answering a question with a question, I'm going to start this review with a book review. I hated the Divinci Code book by Dan Brown. I'm really surprised I read it cover to cover. Complicated and completely devoid of adjectives, Mr. Brown's text reads like a Grisham novel---it reads like a movie adaptation. 'You've seen the movie, now read the book!' is it's attitude at the time, even tho there was no film yet. You could practically see the camera angle comments and editing remarks between the dialogue. He wanted to make a movie. Worse, he deals with art for goodness sakes, but lacked the ability to create said art in the reader's brain. I had to keep running to the internet to see exactly what he was describing.
So, as I read, I believed that it would make a good movie.
I was right.
The glaring drawbacks of the hack job of a book are greatly reduced on the big screen. The tale is a complicated one, but luckily, also facinating. Seems that the Holy Grail of old was really not an object but a secret. The secret being that Jesus of Nazareth was more mortal then we can ever think--to the point that he got married and fathered children. It also seems that a secret cabal knew this and did their best to hide the lineage from the church. The church, if this information got out, would be called a liar and might collapse--so they intend on keeping it as quiet as possible.
Enter Tom Hanks character, a symbolgist from Harvard. He has the skills to decipher hidden clues created by DiVinci and others in their works and possibly open this story wide. Hard to make a bookish professor exciting, isn't it? You do what you can, but it's another blow to the tale. At least his cohort was a cop. A small, geeky cop with no gun. Go figure.
Sounds complicated, right? It is and that is the problem. If I were to tell you, merely just tell you these secrets, you'd be asleep after the first paragraph, even if you were pious. But if, as Mr. Brown probably thought, I hid it in a work of fiction, well, you might be more interested. Most likely. But the fact of the matter is, this is heady stuff. Good stuff, but not for the faint-of-brain, for lack of a better discription.
If you like to think during your tales, this might be for you. It's also a fairly passive story. The protagonists merely move from situaition to situation, reacting instead of acting on what is happening around them. It's as if they are kidnapped the entire time by the legend floating about them. Such passivity doesn't make for engaging work. If either of them were shot, I wouldn't care, for they weren't all that interesting to begin with.
Actually, I think the film did so well by the very church that snubbed it and asked others not to see it. YOu would think a church after so many years would have learned the ins-and-outs of the movie machine. There is no such thing as bad publicity. Remember Mr. and Mrs. Smith of last year? Medicore film propelled to the top of the heap due to the well-timed romance of it's beautiful leads? Same goes for this movie. The mere fact that this title was repeated again and again from various pulpits made individuals take note and want to find out what the big deal was. Aint' nothing better for Hollywood then a request for a boycott. Many crappy films have found power this way.
But DiVinci, like Over the Hedge is better than average, but not great. Seems to be a reoccuring theme this year. Last year, the movies were just bad. This year? A step up, slightly.
Please, dear God, bring me a good movie! This is a start, but I'm still waiting for more.
Like answering a question with a question, I'm going to start this review with a book review. I hated the Divinci Code book by Dan Brown. I'm really surprised I read it cover to cover. Complicated and completely devoid of adjectives, Mr. Brown's text reads like a Grisham novel---it reads like a movie adaptation. 'You've seen the movie, now read the book!' is it's attitude at the time, even tho there was no film yet. You could practically see the camera angle comments and editing remarks between the dialogue. He wanted to make a movie. Worse, he deals with art for goodness sakes, but lacked the ability to create said art in the reader's brain. I had to keep running to the internet to see exactly what he was describing.
So, as I read, I believed that it would make a good movie.
I was right.
The glaring drawbacks of the hack job of a book are greatly reduced on the big screen. The tale is a complicated one, but luckily, also facinating. Seems that the Holy Grail of old was really not an object but a secret. The secret being that Jesus of Nazareth was more mortal then we can ever think--to the point that he got married and fathered children. It also seems that a secret cabal knew this and did their best to hide the lineage from the church. The church, if this information got out, would be called a liar and might collapse--so they intend on keeping it as quiet as possible.
Enter Tom Hanks character, a symbolgist from Harvard. He has the skills to decipher hidden clues created by DiVinci and others in their works and possibly open this story wide. Hard to make a bookish professor exciting, isn't it? You do what you can, but it's another blow to the tale. At least his cohort was a cop. A small, geeky cop with no gun. Go figure.
Sounds complicated, right? It is and that is the problem. If I were to tell you, merely just tell you these secrets, you'd be asleep after the first paragraph, even if you were pious. But if, as Mr. Brown probably thought, I hid it in a work of fiction, well, you might be more interested. Most likely. But the fact of the matter is, this is heady stuff. Good stuff, but not for the faint-of-brain, for lack of a better discription.
If you like to think during your tales, this might be for you. It's also a fairly passive story. The protagonists merely move from situaition to situation, reacting instead of acting on what is happening around them. It's as if they are kidnapped the entire time by the legend floating about them. Such passivity doesn't make for engaging work. If either of them were shot, I wouldn't care, for they weren't all that interesting to begin with.
Actually, I think the film did so well by the very church that snubbed it and asked others not to see it. YOu would think a church after so many years would have learned the ins-and-outs of the movie machine. There is no such thing as bad publicity. Remember Mr. and Mrs. Smith of last year? Medicore film propelled to the top of the heap due to the well-timed romance of it's beautiful leads? Same goes for this movie. The mere fact that this title was repeated again and again from various pulpits made individuals take note and want to find out what the big deal was. Aint' nothing better for Hollywood then a request for a boycott. Many crappy films have found power this way.
But DiVinci, like Over the Hedge is better than average, but not great. Seems to be a reoccuring theme this year. Last year, the movies were just bad. This year? A step up, slightly.
Please, dear God, bring me a good movie! This is a start, but I'm still waiting for more.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Movie Review: Over the Hedge
You know, it has been a long time since I published anything on this blog. Seriously, it's not that I've not wanted to write; oh you have no idea how much I've wanted to write--but situations being what they are, life gave me a hand this past school year. Not only a hand, but one, very strong, finger. How did it happen after being a teacher for 13.5 years and a writer all my life did both things go to pot so quickly? Luck, perhaps. Situational ethics, maybe.
Whatever the situation, movies and weekend escapes of that sort took on a new meaning this school year. Now they weren't merely 'diversions.' Now they carried a weight to them, a weight that made mistakes appear more profound; a consequence that made successes even more joyous. I was cursed with very few 'awake' hours with my significant other. So those few hours became precious. When I went to the movies; I WENT TO THE MOVIES.
The school year had ended and, quite thankfully, so has my partner's vicious employment. So when the summer films opened, I could see the light of relief just out-of-touch, if only I could reach it...
It was from this standpoint that I attended my first summer movie, Over the Hedge. You don't have to read all of my previous reviews to know my feelings of animations and why I selected this title to celebrate with. I, for one, detest TomKatt and secondly, Disney and offhandedly, animation--is where I met my partner. So cartoons, if you will, are something I needed to survive. And since I was going to have hold onto until the dog days of summer arrived, this picture won the cointoss.
Not that it gave me much to hold onto. Disney may have perfected the art of animation, but others, most likely animators who once worked for Disney, have caught on. Adults like animation as much as the tykes, if it's done well. Since cartoons can be created with a computer at home, that means that something of substance has to be up there on the screen.
A story. Not just any story--a story that is universal enough that both children and adults can enjoy it, but specific enough that every single audience member feels like it is a personal experience. Look at Shrek for an example. Those jabs at the Disney Parks? Classic and something none of the youngsters could understand, but every adult could. Wallace and Gromit? No child in England or America is going to get horror movie stereotypes--
--oh wait, considering how many kids are permitted to see R movies, I should probably take that back.
It's with this tidbit that Over the Hedge misses the boat. Without the political commentary, it becomes a standard kid movie. That's alright, I suppose, but even then, the tales misses some really good opportunities to let the movie fly. The story is about Raccoon, voiced by Bruce Willis, who finds he is in debt to a very large bear, voiced by Nick Nolte, for gallons of food. Nature being what it is, food is scarce--so the Raccoon, working on a timetable, tricks the local fauna into action. They are a bit dimwitted, it seems, since their interactions have only been with each other. They are taken for a con job and collect food for the Raccoon and the bear.
As directly as I tell you here, that is the long and the short of it. It was mildly entertaining, but there was zero risks involved. They have a great list of voice over work--but not once is the cork pulled out for these performers. Don Bluth (An American Tail, Titan A.E.) learned from Disney some time ago that you have to let actors act...and from there, develop your storyboards and animation. You can see it up there on the screen, for each character is given a vivacity you can feel.
But the filmmakers here, it felt like, told the performers to stick to the script. There are zero zingers; nothing feels alive in the movie. Since there is nothing to connect to--the characters become mere computer creations. I didn't find them cute, cuddly or want them to succeed. I kept thinking I was watching a Warner Bros. short. Fun--but not really deep.
So, I suppose, I'm glad it was short. The kids will like it, I'm sure, but I'm sad it was the first 'big movie' I had to see this summer. For if this is what they plan on opening with--I wonder what the rest of the summer is going to be like.
Yeah, I might be putting to much weight on this, like I started this work with--but seriously, I have seen many movies carry that weight without burden. And yes, it IS a good movie, that was somewhat evident. But I might recommend renting a video instead for now.
Whatever the situation, movies and weekend escapes of that sort took on a new meaning this school year. Now they weren't merely 'diversions.' Now they carried a weight to them, a weight that made mistakes appear more profound; a consequence that made successes even more joyous. I was cursed with very few 'awake' hours with my significant other. So those few hours became precious. When I went to the movies; I WENT TO THE MOVIES.
The school year had ended and, quite thankfully, so has my partner's vicious employment. So when the summer films opened, I could see the light of relief just out-of-touch, if only I could reach it...
It was from this standpoint that I attended my first summer movie, Over the Hedge. You don't have to read all of my previous reviews to know my feelings of animations and why I selected this title to celebrate with. I, for one, detest TomKatt and secondly, Disney and offhandedly, animation--is where I met my partner. So cartoons, if you will, are something I needed to survive. And since I was going to have hold onto until the dog days of summer arrived, this picture won the cointoss.
Not that it gave me much to hold onto. Disney may have perfected the art of animation, but others, most likely animators who once worked for Disney, have caught on. Adults like animation as much as the tykes, if it's done well. Since cartoons can be created with a computer at home, that means that something of substance has to be up there on the screen.
A story. Not just any story--a story that is universal enough that both children and adults can enjoy it, but specific enough that every single audience member feels like it is a personal experience. Look at Shrek for an example. Those jabs at the Disney Parks? Classic and something none of the youngsters could understand, but every adult could. Wallace and Gromit? No child in England or America is going to get horror movie stereotypes--
--oh wait, considering how many kids are permitted to see R movies, I should probably take that back.
It's with this tidbit that Over the Hedge misses the boat. Without the political commentary, it becomes a standard kid movie. That's alright, I suppose, but even then, the tales misses some really good opportunities to let the movie fly. The story is about Raccoon, voiced by Bruce Willis, who finds he is in debt to a very large bear, voiced by Nick Nolte, for gallons of food. Nature being what it is, food is scarce--so the Raccoon, working on a timetable, tricks the local fauna into action. They are a bit dimwitted, it seems, since their interactions have only been with each other. They are taken for a con job and collect food for the Raccoon and the bear.
As directly as I tell you here, that is the long and the short of it. It was mildly entertaining, but there was zero risks involved. They have a great list of voice over work--but not once is the cork pulled out for these performers. Don Bluth (An American Tail, Titan A.E.) learned from Disney some time ago that you have to let actors act...and from there, develop your storyboards and animation. You can see it up there on the screen, for each character is given a vivacity you can feel.
But the filmmakers here, it felt like, told the performers to stick to the script. There are zero zingers; nothing feels alive in the movie. Since there is nothing to connect to--the characters become mere computer creations. I didn't find them cute, cuddly or want them to succeed. I kept thinking I was watching a Warner Bros. short. Fun--but not really deep.
So, I suppose, I'm glad it was short. The kids will like it, I'm sure, but I'm sad it was the first 'big movie' I had to see this summer. For if this is what they plan on opening with--I wonder what the rest of the summer is going to be like.
Yeah, I might be putting to much weight on this, like I started this work with--but seriously, I have seen many movies carry that weight without burden. And yes, it IS a good movie, that was somewhat evident. But I might recommend renting a video instead for now.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Movie Review: Brokeback Mountain
(WARNING: THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS)
I'm having a rough time with writing the review of this one. On one hand, as you can see, I think the movie is well made and comes together on several levels as a whole. But on the other hand, I'm not sure I like it.
It's hard for me in that I'm an author who is gay--and my bias comes right up as I watched this movie. I mean, for the first time EVER, I saw a movie where I could walk away and relate to the characters on more than one level. Previously, I could watch my favorite Casablanca and understand the concept of giving it all up for the love of your life. But now? I didn't realize that I could feel such a deep connection with the characters played on the screen on such a visceral level. Is this what the straights have been doing for years? You lucky dogs you.
And they say there's no such thing as discrimination against gays.
Let me elaborate by completing the rest of this review. The movie is just like the rest of Ang Lee's repetoire. There's good news and bad all over the screen but, if you've ever seen Lee's films, even his comedies, you know that there is a pall, unseen but most certainly detected, that comes through. You might call it brood or darkness, but it's there, hiding in the corners of his films and this is no different--and that's okay. This film needs to have a bittersweet message and it works here.
I'm reminded of the doomed lovers in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. In the first three minutes of that film, you can see how Michelle Yeoh's face lights up when Chow Yun Fat enters for the first time in many moons and you know that they are doomed to not flesh out that love. Same goes here with the emotional level. Jack Gyllenhall prances in the first few seconds and you smile because you know he's flirting with Heath Ledger's Ennis character but the sadness has already been established with long shots of beautiful but empty exteriors and majestic mountains without human's oogling over them.
I've seen hundreds of lesser known gay flicks (thanks Netflix and Logo) and know that there have been very few major players really have played homosexuality well. I cannot relate to humor of The Birdcage or the epic of Angels in America. They may very well be very good and accurate in their portrayal, but for some reason, these two young men resonate with me. We have to remember, Jake and Heath grew up ina world where Will and Grace were commonplace; that gays and lesbians' fights for equal rights has been televised nightly. They aren't afraid to be a gay characters. And with that, they truly embody the characters. I was able to believe these were real men because of it.
What also pulled me in was that Mr. Lee shot totally on location, giving the flick a better feel of desolation. There were not in a set, I don't believe. There are no overhead shots. There were real houses and apartments. You can see the paneling of the indigent home of Ennis' and the space between the floorboards of Jack's childhood home. The paint on these buildings is in a constant fade; the dust was not put there with purpose.
Couple the decent acting with the art production--you can move onto camerawork. The mountains stay in focus whenever the actors are in the foreground. Welcome to digital people. It works in conveying a sense of isolation that propels the title. These men are physically alone whenever they are with each other--meaning also they are alone in their hearts. Their love can only exist, it seems, behind the curtain of these mountains.
Okay, three good things. I saved writing for last, because that, to me, is the heart of the piece. I loved the The Last Picture Show. That was Larry McMurtry at his best. You can tell that his skills have not waned. He is a man of the West and his dialogue enhances a sense of ruggedness by being curt and direct in it's manner. There's some terrific lines too, like (I'm going from memory here, folks, so forgive me I misquote):
"Now come on Jack, you know the only traveling I have ever done is around the coffeepot to find the handle."
The mere fact that lines like this stayed with me says something--something worth hearing.
But Mr. McMurtry and his wife has committed something grave against this reviewer and this is so major, it really gives me pause. Even the original writer, Ann Proulx committed this sin.
One of the homosexuals dies. Yep. Gotta kill off a queer to make the story fuller.
I HATE THAT and I'M TIRED OF IT.
From my childhood to my adulthood, this is what I've seen of gays in the movies a majority of the time. Sure, it may not be a physical death, perhaps a allegorical death, but it's there. I've had to deal with it again and again. It worked it's way into my subconscious--meaning that at some point I will die as a gay person.
And this story is no different. Why? Well, of course, it had to be the happy one too, the one who gets fed up with his partner's inaction and decides to pursue a life else where. Now my partner points out a few things I need to mention. One, that even in movies like Love Story so long ago, and Dying Young so recently, this is a common theme in romances tales. And that two, that the screenwriters did add something onto the original tale at the very end to show that life does go on and that things do change.
But for me, this is a pretty profound message of an otherwise excellent piece of filmmaking and it holds me back from making a perfect review of the title. It also makes me want to say to people, "hey, this is the kind of movie where you just need to go and see it and decide for yourself."
So did I like the movie? As I reread my words, I'm going to say yes, overall, I liked the movie. Interestingly, I noticed the audience was mostly nongay, but that just probably means I wasn't paying attention. Lots of cowboy hats, but then again, look where I live folks. Did I cry? Sobbed. But also remember, this was the first time I could really relate to what was happening on the big screen.
My biggest hope, sadly, is that this movie makes oodles of cash. For me, that means I can go to the movies again and see more stuff that moves me on a visceral level. Media has been very good to me this year. I never watched television until Logo and now, with Brokeback Mountain, I found out--I've never really been going to the movies either.
I'm having a rough time with writing the review of this one. On one hand, as you can see, I think the movie is well made and comes together on several levels as a whole. But on the other hand, I'm not sure I like it.
It's hard for me in that I'm an author who is gay--and my bias comes right up as I watched this movie. I mean, for the first time EVER, I saw a movie where I could walk away and relate to the characters on more than one level. Previously, I could watch my favorite Casablanca and understand the concept of giving it all up for the love of your life. But now? I didn't realize that I could feel such a deep connection with the characters played on the screen on such a visceral level. Is this what the straights have been doing for years? You lucky dogs you.
And they say there's no such thing as discrimination against gays.
Let me elaborate by completing the rest of this review. The movie is just like the rest of Ang Lee's repetoire. There's good news and bad all over the screen but, if you've ever seen Lee's films, even his comedies, you know that there is a pall, unseen but most certainly detected, that comes through. You might call it brood or darkness, but it's there, hiding in the corners of his films and this is no different--and that's okay. This film needs to have a bittersweet message and it works here.
I'm reminded of the doomed lovers in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. In the first three minutes of that film, you can see how Michelle Yeoh's face lights up when Chow Yun Fat enters for the first time in many moons and you know that they are doomed to not flesh out that love. Same goes here with the emotional level. Jack Gyllenhall prances in the first few seconds and you smile because you know he's flirting with Heath Ledger's Ennis character but the sadness has already been established with long shots of beautiful but empty exteriors and majestic mountains without human's oogling over them.
I've seen hundreds of lesser known gay flicks (thanks Netflix and Logo) and know that there have been very few major players really have played homosexuality well. I cannot relate to humor of The Birdcage or the epic of Angels in America. They may very well be very good and accurate in their portrayal, but for some reason, these two young men resonate with me. We have to remember, Jake and Heath grew up ina world where Will and Grace were commonplace; that gays and lesbians' fights for equal rights has been televised nightly. They aren't afraid to be a gay characters. And with that, they truly embody the characters. I was able to believe these were real men because of it.
What also pulled me in was that Mr. Lee shot totally on location, giving the flick a better feel of desolation. There were not in a set, I don't believe. There are no overhead shots. There were real houses and apartments. You can see the paneling of the indigent home of Ennis' and the space between the floorboards of Jack's childhood home. The paint on these buildings is in a constant fade; the dust was not put there with purpose.
Couple the decent acting with the art production--you can move onto camerawork. The mountains stay in focus whenever the actors are in the foreground. Welcome to digital people. It works in conveying a sense of isolation that propels the title. These men are physically alone whenever they are with each other--meaning also they are alone in their hearts. Their love can only exist, it seems, behind the curtain of these mountains.
Okay, three good things. I saved writing for last, because that, to me, is the heart of the piece. I loved the The Last Picture Show. That was Larry McMurtry at his best. You can tell that his skills have not waned. He is a man of the West and his dialogue enhances a sense of ruggedness by being curt and direct in it's manner. There's some terrific lines too, like (I'm going from memory here, folks, so forgive me I misquote):
"Now come on Jack, you know the only traveling I have ever done is around the coffeepot to find the handle."
The mere fact that lines like this stayed with me says something--something worth hearing.
But Mr. McMurtry and his wife has committed something grave against this reviewer and this is so major, it really gives me pause. Even the original writer, Ann Proulx committed this sin.
One of the homosexuals dies. Yep. Gotta kill off a queer to make the story fuller.
I HATE THAT and I'M TIRED OF IT.
From my childhood to my adulthood, this is what I've seen of gays in the movies a majority of the time. Sure, it may not be a physical death, perhaps a allegorical death, but it's there. I've had to deal with it again and again. It worked it's way into my subconscious--meaning that at some point I will die as a gay person.
And this story is no different. Why? Well, of course, it had to be the happy one too, the one who gets fed up with his partner's inaction and decides to pursue a life else where. Now my partner points out a few things I need to mention. One, that even in movies like Love Story so long ago, and Dying Young so recently, this is a common theme in romances tales. And that two, that the screenwriters did add something onto the original tale at the very end to show that life does go on and that things do change.
But for me, this is a pretty profound message of an otherwise excellent piece of filmmaking and it holds me back from making a perfect review of the title. It also makes me want to say to people, "hey, this is the kind of movie where you just need to go and see it and decide for yourself."
So did I like the movie? As I reread my words, I'm going to say yes, overall, I liked the movie. Interestingly, I noticed the audience was mostly nongay, but that just probably means I wasn't paying attention. Lots of cowboy hats, but then again, look where I live folks. Did I cry? Sobbed. But also remember, this was the first time I could really relate to what was happening on the big screen.
My biggest hope, sadly, is that this movie makes oodles of cash. For me, that means I can go to the movies again and see more stuff that moves me on a visceral level. Media has been very good to me this year. I never watched television until Logo and now, with Brokeback Mountain, I found out--I've never really been going to the movies either.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Movie Review: King Kong
Okay, so this guy, Kevin Jackson, makes three movies about his most favorite book and they give him an Oscar. Frankly, I don't want to review that movie, for I hate fantasy tales, but I have to say something. I've read Lord of the Rings etc. and you know what? Those are boring books. Really long and they encouraged me to hate the genre more. But still, when I bought those tickets to see what everyone was talking about--wow, just wow. It was obvious to this reviewer that the film maker really loved those titles. He must have, for he took a fanboy tale and made it something for the masses.
So, for his next run, seeing he's already got an Oscar, they gave him the pick of what he wanted to do next. And he, like his favorite book, goes with one of his favorite movies--King Kong. And really, was what great and wrong with the Lord of the Rings was what was great and wrong about King Kong.
Folks, this is the reason we go to the movies. Huge monsters, depth of characters and ongoing action. The concept of spectacle goes one better here, even though Kong is an animal, a CGI one to boot, I felt for him and that only means that the creature was created with enough expression and interaction that I could connect. I found myself cheering and weeping at the right places, so that's all a good sign.
But there are things people won't tell you about this movie. It started long and I knew, hearing from tabloids, that it was threatened to be edited. The studio execs, however, decided not to touch it. Which is, really, one of the things they probably should have. Every sequence is milked for one last CGI shot, as if the director was bragging about his bag of tricks. A three Rex/King Kong sequences just KEEPS GOING, to the point where the casual viewer literally falls from exhaustion at it's completion. Is there a denouement after that? Nope, he then has a bug fight sequence that also keeps testing the patience of it's audience.
It's as if the screenwriter, which I believe is Jackson and his wife, went to the James Cameron School of Egocentric Authorship. Cameron's movies go on and on, and you can practically hear the producers' meetings with Cameron arguing, "no, no, no--You HAVE to keep that part, because..." Same goes here. Dear filmmakers, if you have to explain it, it means that the sequence is not coming across as you are planning, cut the blasted thing and move to a more direct mode of communication.
Since screenwriting is so essential and so key to the film, that takes it's toll on this movie, but really, it survives because so many other important elements take place. I mean, the acting is impecable. Jack Black, an excellent but underused performer, is perfect. I'm unsure if I'm supposed to like him or not--he's a jerk for so long that when he entones the famous final lines, they fall flat. Again, a problem with the writing. Naomi Watts? Perfect, if only given most of her screen time to screaming (more problems with writing). And Adrian Brody? Also well cast--an actor of his talent almost dropped off the screen in some really bad pics, so it's good to see him back.
Now comes the major issue for Mr. Jackson. What next? Without satisfingn his need to elaborate on his fanatic adoration of movies and books...will he try something totally original?
So, for his next run, seeing he's already got an Oscar, they gave him the pick of what he wanted to do next. And he, like his favorite book, goes with one of his favorite movies--King Kong. And really, was what great and wrong with the Lord of the Rings was what was great and wrong about King Kong.
Folks, this is the reason we go to the movies. Huge monsters, depth of characters and ongoing action. The concept of spectacle goes one better here, even though Kong is an animal, a CGI one to boot, I felt for him and that only means that the creature was created with enough expression and interaction that I could connect. I found myself cheering and weeping at the right places, so that's all a good sign.
But there are things people won't tell you about this movie. It started long and I knew, hearing from tabloids, that it was threatened to be edited. The studio execs, however, decided not to touch it. Which is, really, one of the things they probably should have. Every sequence is milked for one last CGI shot, as if the director was bragging about his bag of tricks. A three Rex/King Kong sequences just KEEPS GOING, to the point where the casual viewer literally falls from exhaustion at it's completion. Is there a denouement after that? Nope, he then has a bug fight sequence that also keeps testing the patience of it's audience.
It's as if the screenwriter, which I believe is Jackson and his wife, went to the James Cameron School of Egocentric Authorship. Cameron's movies go on and on, and you can practically hear the producers' meetings with Cameron arguing, "no, no, no--You HAVE to keep that part, because..." Same goes here. Dear filmmakers, if you have to explain it, it means that the sequence is not coming across as you are planning, cut the blasted thing and move to a more direct mode of communication.
Since screenwriting is so essential and so key to the film, that takes it's toll on this movie, but really, it survives because so many other important elements take place. I mean, the acting is impecable. Jack Black, an excellent but underused performer, is perfect. I'm unsure if I'm supposed to like him or not--he's a jerk for so long that when he entones the famous final lines, they fall flat. Again, a problem with the writing. Naomi Watts? Perfect, if only given most of her screen time to screaming (more problems with writing). And Adrian Brody? Also well cast--an actor of his talent almost dropped off the screen in some really bad pics, so it's good to see him back.
Now comes the major issue for Mr. Jackson. What next? Without satisfingn his need to elaborate on his fanatic adoration of movies and books...will he try something totally original?
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Movie Review: The Producers
Before I complete this review, I gotta explain some things. See, I was raised a child of the theatre. My mom was a dancer as I grew up and she continued to dance until I was like 12. I remember finishing homework offstage right while my mom put chorus girls through their paces. It was a world in and of itself.And I have to explain it--not many people understand it for one and for two--it makes me biased to this movie.I've seen bad theatre and boy, I can be more sympatheic then most people. I know what it's like to flub lines, to miss cues to come on during wrong scenes. It's truly what makes theatre what it is. So where does the the movie review begin? Well, it doesn't when it comes to a movie like The Producers. Take an actor and put them on stage, they have to emote wide, make those gestures big, or, like with my ma so long ago, smile so wide that the lobby can see it without opera glasses. Take that same actor and slap him on the big screen. He blinks during a close up on an IMAX movie and, that's like, what, a six foot wink. No need for extra emphasis. YOu don't need to project to the back seats.And people think that acting is easy. No really. There are subtle differences.So what about the movie, Roo?!With The Producers, last year's hit Broadway show--they took the play and put it on the big screen. LITERALLY. Every movement is big, every song is belted, every nuance smeared to the sky. Broadway shows can make it to the big screen. Look at Chicago. But they altered the show enough to make it work. I know, I know, it's a musical, so who cares about reality? I know I don't, that's why I went to see this flick. But the fact remains, like my explainations at the front of this article, that many people might see The Producers and just not get it. You'd wonder why everyone is over-emoting. You'd wonder why Matthew Broderick's face looks like it's made of rubber. But if you know theatre, you might appreciate it a wee bit more. You'd understand the humor in sequences like, "Make It Gay." Or you'd clap when Ulla does a show stopper. Is the movie good? You can see I say both yes and no. I liked it, but I doubt many others will. It's got the typical quips of any Mel Brooks work--risque commentary on stereotypes and broad, physical humor. Do you think you can appreciate that? Then go. But remember, this is theatre folks. I couldn't help wondering if it might just have been a wee bit better onstage.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Movie Review: A Home at the End of the World
I just read an article about Colin Farrell, just this very morning. It talks about how he is sueing an ex who is threatening to sell a sex tape that the two had made in private many moons ago. That wild man Colin! Who knew he could even make porn!
I bring this up because it is a piece of the overall puzzling movie that is A Home at the End of the World. Seriously.
It's the dramatic story about the redefinition of family in the seventies and the eighties. In it, a young man named Bobby (played by Colin Farrell), orphaned as a teen, who befriends Jonathan (played by Dallas Roberts). As the two grow, Jonathan steps out of the closet and moves to the East Villiage. Bobby, listless, follows and complicates things for Jonathan's plans. This being twenty years ago, of course, Jonathan must contract an HIV infection and Bobby, being ever so hippie-like, must be open about sex. It's an interesting premise that technically should work.
Based on a book by the same name and recreated by the author Michael Cunningham--this shows that books and screenplays are very, very different mediums. I've not read the book, but that doesn't mean much in a critical review. Here, the movie's topic is smart enough, but not very exciting. There is zero conflict, really, and what there is always resolved in a minute or two. They complain about not having money *poof* in two pages they open a cafe. An older brother character talks about being taken away and *poof* he dies in the next minute and a half. I don't doubt Cunningham's ability to write. I was VERY impressed with his creation of the film/book The Hours. But I think the success there led him to this movie. And he obviously doesn't have the skills of a dramaturge. If he did, he would have noticed that this should not have been a film.
But it's not for lack of trying. The cast works with what it can, given so little to do. I forgot the Jonathan character, so important to the plot, kept disappearing from view/given such little screen time. And Sean Penn's wife, the excellent Robin Wright Penn, is given so little to do, she practically screams for the short times she finds herself on camera. No literal screaming, mind you, but a busting out of a personality that wants to do something, anything, then be crapped on by this sad song.
So why did I bring up the porno thing at the beginning of this article then? It shows something about the lead. Colin Farrell does a excellent job as Bobby. But the only reason why I say that is because I know Mr. Farrell from the articles written about him. He's something of a powerhouse, given to hard partying and delicious anti-celebrity behavior that has the tabliods watching his very Irish personality. So to see him in a role that is so extremely sullen and withdrawn is to see the change--and be impressed. But therein lies the problem with his performance. Had I not know of him prior, I would of thought his acting as placid, if not bored. I would have not realized what kind of a stretch this really is for him.
So a droll script but excellent acting leads to a movie that really doesn't add up to much. It just sorta sits there and makes you say, "well, that's nice, is the mac and cheese ready?" Surely, the single people watching might have something to talk about at the coffee house, but I have found that the movie just isn't big enough for that.
If there is something to talk about, it's that Mr. Farrell does deserve a bit of fame. No, not for his filming his love making, tho I'm sure that might be impressive too, but that he is an extremely capable performer, regardless of his personality offscreen. With that, you can watch a leading man emerge in the next few years. I look forward to what he might do next.
I bring this up because it is a piece of the overall puzzling movie that is A Home at the End of the World. Seriously.
It's the dramatic story about the redefinition of family in the seventies and the eighties. In it, a young man named Bobby (played by Colin Farrell), orphaned as a teen, who befriends Jonathan (played by Dallas Roberts). As the two grow, Jonathan steps out of the closet and moves to the East Villiage. Bobby, listless, follows and complicates things for Jonathan's plans. This being twenty years ago, of course, Jonathan must contract an HIV infection and Bobby, being ever so hippie-like, must be open about sex. It's an interesting premise that technically should work.
Based on a book by the same name and recreated by the author Michael Cunningham--this shows that books and screenplays are very, very different mediums. I've not read the book, but that doesn't mean much in a critical review. Here, the movie's topic is smart enough, but not very exciting. There is zero conflict, really, and what there is always resolved in a minute or two. They complain about not having money *poof* in two pages they open a cafe. An older brother character talks about being taken away and *poof* he dies in the next minute and a half. I don't doubt Cunningham's ability to write. I was VERY impressed with his creation of the film/book The Hours. But I think the success there led him to this movie. And he obviously doesn't have the skills of a dramaturge. If he did, he would have noticed that this should not have been a film.
But it's not for lack of trying. The cast works with what it can, given so little to do. I forgot the Jonathan character, so important to the plot, kept disappearing from view/given such little screen time. And Sean Penn's wife, the excellent Robin Wright Penn, is given so little to do, she practically screams for the short times she finds herself on camera. No literal screaming, mind you, but a busting out of a personality that wants to do something, anything, then be crapped on by this sad song.
So why did I bring up the porno thing at the beginning of this article then? It shows something about the lead. Colin Farrell does a excellent job as Bobby. But the only reason why I say that is because I know Mr. Farrell from the articles written about him. He's something of a powerhouse, given to hard partying and delicious anti-celebrity behavior that has the tabliods watching his very Irish personality. So to see him in a role that is so extremely sullen and withdrawn is to see the change--and be impressed. But therein lies the problem with his performance. Had I not know of him prior, I would of thought his acting as placid, if not bored. I would have not realized what kind of a stretch this really is for him.
So a droll script but excellent acting leads to a movie that really doesn't add up to much. It just sorta sits there and makes you say, "well, that's nice, is the mac and cheese ready?" Surely, the single people watching might have something to talk about at the coffee house, but I have found that the movie just isn't big enough for that.
If there is something to talk about, it's that Mr. Farrell does deserve a bit of fame. No, not for his filming his love making, tho I'm sure that might be impressive too, but that he is an extremely capable performer, regardless of his personality offscreen. With that, you can watch a leading man emerge in the next few years. I look forward to what he might do next.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Continued: Books and Literature
9. The Fallen Angels by Micheal Saharra. I was exposed to this text by accident. My uncle, who went to seminary in Gettysburg, bought this for me when he went to get some paperwork from the college. We drove out and as he ran through the streets of this famed city, I started asking questions. He realized we had major time before heading back to my grandparents that summer after the eighth grade and so we hoped on a tour bus of this town. But it wasn't enough. Soon the questions became more complex. Why did they send the men, in full face of guns, across an open field? Why did they need to have control of this place called 'Devil's Den?' He realized, after years of attending college in the area, he didn't have all the answers. So he grabbed this book, a text he had read and said, try this. I was glued to the pages. After a while, he had me keep a notepad nearby, so I could list ALL of the people involved--my brain may have been able to grasp the concepts, but not totally--and I learned that history was just as good as reality, when it comes to the story department.
8. Immortal Poems edited by Oscar Williams: We've all had a teacher, that one who made the world for us, right? For me, it was my 12th grade, AP British Literature teacher. He was our theatre teacher, but this was the one English course he worked on, and you could tell. He was so excited everyday, he once blurted out, "my goal is make you either love Shakespeare or love poetry." A loft goal, but his excitement only added to my previous interest (Ian Fleming's Bond was already in my repetoire, as were Paddington and CS Lewis). His coup de grace was when I invited him to my own graduation party (I invited most of my senior year's teachers) and he was the only one who showed up. And this book was his gift. I took it with me to college the following year and when I needed it, I would read and use it to inspire journal entries. And I still use the book when I need it.
7. A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams: Look everyone, a play! I knew I wanted to include a play on this list, and this was the first one that came to mind. From there, it was easy--I had written a biography of the playwright in my junior year in college for my American Literature course. He has written better plays, but this was the one, I felt that lept off the page, that I could envision in my mind's eye more then the others. He was exact in his detail. Frankly, I think he was in love with Stanley Kowlowski. And it showed! The playwright, hung up on his own homosexuality, was creating characters to fill his personal voids. But he was conflicted, and those characters destroy each other. A theatrical piece that is an amazing read.
6. Night Shift by Stephen King: Let's just say, my writing when it comes to creating a novel sucks; but because of this author, my short stories shine right through. I know, a bit of boasting on my part but the only thing I have confidence in is writing. Not to say my writing is any good, but I enjoy the act in and of itself. And I love to write short stories. I knew my soul twin would be on this list, somewhere. But what book? Pet Semetary is probably my favorite book of his, but I don't believe it played to his strengths like this title did. After reading this, I was encouraged to write. A collection of his magazine submissions, it varies as much as our personalities, and with that, it worthy of mention. I can only wish to create like he does.
5. Autumn Lightening by Dave Lowry: I stumbled across this title in a used bookstore and I've not been the same since. A story of an American learning martial arts hit me on two levels. First, it drew me in--I love martial arts. I was engaged from the start. But the message became stronger as I saw a theme that the tale of every martialist goes through, that for the quest for knowledge of something. We are responsible, we seek the teachers in our life. I ran into an old student who told me, 'your stupid school taught me nothing.' Having read this book, I realized, it was because 'you were not ready to learn, I guess.' (I offered to have him return to the school and teach what we had missed and he gawked--see what I mean?) Such is the profundity of this text. As a teacher, as a learner, I was marked.
4. Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger: I had long thought that "The Catcher in the Rye" would have ended up on this list, but when I couldn't find enough copies to use in my own classroom, I stumbled across this title. I sat down and read it over the weekend (9 short stories) and found this work was actually BETTER. Surely, the swear words due to return and there are weird moments that had me questioning the author's sanity, but isn't that what reading Salinger is about? This is his far better works, more direct in their publication. And yes, at least for me, more inspiring in their short story form.
3. Writing Down the Bones/the Wild Life by Natalie Goldberg: A writing text by a Jewish Buddist author. I found this book when I was student teaching. I found that I had nothing to do, literally, in that small apartment above the infirmary at the Deaf school where I was doing my practicuum. I kept a journal, because I didn't have a television or a kitchen. It was awful. After a while, with zero friends and a semester to go, I found this book in the self help section of a New Age bookstore. It had journal ideas. But it also had ways of self development. Like killing the critic in my head, meditation through writing, and feeling good about the act of creating. I still read it today. I can see a copy of it from where I sit. And I cannot thank her enough. If only I could write full time.
2. The Tao of Inner Peace by Diane Dreher: I asked my friend to think of another text than the Bible for his list. I should have said the same for myself, relating to this book. Surely, this has, in a way, become like a Bible for me. It takes the works of Lao Tzu's poetry-the workings of Tao--and gives you suggestions on how to apply them into your life. It was like an instruction booklet for a religious text. One of the problems I've always had of the Bible is that it's too open, too many opportunities to self-interpret the meanings. So people tend to lean on 'the professionals' or the church, as it were, to tell them what it means. They rarely read it themselves--which is very dangerous, when you think about it. This book lets the READER make the decisions on what is important within the poetry. And saved my life several times. I still look to this book in times of troubles.
1. The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule: How can not mention this book? I read it, all 300+ pages in two hours. It was reviting and since I read it, I've not been able to put down the world of nonfiction writing. It's the true crime tale of a cop/reporter who's friend, Ted Bundy, may or may not be a serial killer. She reports items from her standpoint, and never really gives in to the wisdom that he was doing said horrid deeds. I worked like a horror/thriller and I couldn't put it down. Why is it at the top of the list? Because she had become what I inspire to be. Not a serial killer, you dolts, but an author, using experience to create a tale so reveting, you'd read it in one night.
HONORABLE MENTION: As I reviewed my notes this morning, I realized I missed one text, so there really was 20 titles. The book, which should have been listed today was the two parter "Mouse Tales and Mouse Tales II by David Koening" They are horribly written, not a single name is given to protect the witnesses, tales about the goings-on in Disneyland. Surely, they are the secrets the company doesn't want us to find out, and they do come off as a bit tantalizing and yellow. But the author is having sheer joy over his topic, a Disney fan not unlike myself, and you can tell, even tho he's reporting the bad, it's because he wants to know everything about our favorite place. This is a fanbook, through and through. And I keep rereading it everytime I find myself in California or Florida. Ya know, just to give myself and my friends to talk about while waiting on line for Space Mountain for four hours.
Peace.
8. Immortal Poems edited by Oscar Williams: We've all had a teacher, that one who made the world for us, right? For me, it was my 12th grade, AP British Literature teacher. He was our theatre teacher, but this was the one English course he worked on, and you could tell. He was so excited everyday, he once blurted out, "my goal is make you either love Shakespeare or love poetry." A loft goal, but his excitement only added to my previous interest (Ian Fleming's Bond was already in my repetoire, as were Paddington and CS Lewis). His coup de grace was when I invited him to my own graduation party (I invited most of my senior year's teachers) and he was the only one who showed up. And this book was his gift. I took it with me to college the following year and when I needed it, I would read and use it to inspire journal entries. And I still use the book when I need it.
7. A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams: Look everyone, a play! I knew I wanted to include a play on this list, and this was the first one that came to mind. From there, it was easy--I had written a biography of the playwright in my junior year in college for my American Literature course. He has written better plays, but this was the one, I felt that lept off the page, that I could envision in my mind's eye more then the others. He was exact in his detail. Frankly, I think he was in love with Stanley Kowlowski. And it showed! The playwright, hung up on his own homosexuality, was creating characters to fill his personal voids. But he was conflicted, and those characters destroy each other. A theatrical piece that is an amazing read.
6. Night Shift by Stephen King: Let's just say, my writing when it comes to creating a novel sucks; but because of this author, my short stories shine right through. I know, a bit of boasting on my part but the only thing I have confidence in is writing. Not to say my writing is any good, but I enjoy the act in and of itself. And I love to write short stories. I knew my soul twin would be on this list, somewhere. But what book? Pet Semetary is probably my favorite book of his, but I don't believe it played to his strengths like this title did. After reading this, I was encouraged to write. A collection of his magazine submissions, it varies as much as our personalities, and with that, it worthy of mention. I can only wish to create like he does.
5. Autumn Lightening by Dave Lowry: I stumbled across this title in a used bookstore and I've not been the same since. A story of an American learning martial arts hit me on two levels. First, it drew me in--I love martial arts. I was engaged from the start. But the message became stronger as I saw a theme that the tale of every martialist goes through, that for the quest for knowledge of something. We are responsible, we seek the teachers in our life. I ran into an old student who told me, 'your stupid school taught me nothing.' Having read this book, I realized, it was because 'you were not ready to learn, I guess.' (I offered to have him return to the school and teach what we had missed and he gawked--see what I mean?) Such is the profundity of this text. As a teacher, as a learner, I was marked.
4. Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger: I had long thought that "The Catcher in the Rye" would have ended up on this list, but when I couldn't find enough copies to use in my own classroom, I stumbled across this title. I sat down and read it over the weekend (9 short stories) and found this work was actually BETTER. Surely, the swear words due to return and there are weird moments that had me questioning the author's sanity, but isn't that what reading Salinger is about? This is his far better works, more direct in their publication. And yes, at least for me, more inspiring in their short story form.
3. Writing Down the Bones/the Wild Life by Natalie Goldberg: A writing text by a Jewish Buddist author. I found this book when I was student teaching. I found that I had nothing to do, literally, in that small apartment above the infirmary at the Deaf school where I was doing my practicuum. I kept a journal, because I didn't have a television or a kitchen. It was awful. After a while, with zero friends and a semester to go, I found this book in the self help section of a New Age bookstore. It had journal ideas. But it also had ways of self development. Like killing the critic in my head, meditation through writing, and feeling good about the act of creating. I still read it today. I can see a copy of it from where I sit. And I cannot thank her enough. If only I could write full time.
2. The Tao of Inner Peace by Diane Dreher: I asked my friend to think of another text than the Bible for his list. I should have said the same for myself, relating to this book. Surely, this has, in a way, become like a Bible for me. It takes the works of Lao Tzu's poetry-the workings of Tao--and gives you suggestions on how to apply them into your life. It was like an instruction booklet for a religious text. One of the problems I've always had of the Bible is that it's too open, too many opportunities to self-interpret the meanings. So people tend to lean on 'the professionals' or the church, as it were, to tell them what it means. They rarely read it themselves--which is very dangerous, when you think about it. This book lets the READER make the decisions on what is important within the poetry. And saved my life several times. I still look to this book in times of troubles.
1. The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule: How can not mention this book? I read it, all 300+ pages in two hours. It was reviting and since I read it, I've not been able to put down the world of nonfiction writing. It's the true crime tale of a cop/reporter who's friend, Ted Bundy, may or may not be a serial killer. She reports items from her standpoint, and never really gives in to the wisdom that he was doing said horrid deeds. I worked like a horror/thriller and I couldn't put it down. Why is it at the top of the list? Because she had become what I inspire to be. Not a serial killer, you dolts, but an author, using experience to create a tale so reveting, you'd read it in one night.
HONORABLE MENTION: As I reviewed my notes this morning, I realized I missed one text, so there really was 20 titles. The book, which should have been listed today was the two parter "Mouse Tales and Mouse Tales II by David Koening" They are horribly written, not a single name is given to protect the witnesses, tales about the goings-on in Disneyland. Surely, they are the secrets the company doesn't want us to find out, and they do come off as a bit tantalizing and yellow. But the author is having sheer joy over his topic, a Disney fan not unlike myself, and you can tell, even tho he's reporting the bad, it's because he wants to know everything about our favorite place. This is a fanbook, through and through. And I keep rereading it everytime I find myself in California or Florida. Ya know, just to give myself and my friends to talk about while waiting on line for Space Mountain for four hours.
Peace.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Another Listing: Books and Literature
Again, my colleague and I have elected to do a listing of our top something-or-other, in this case, literature. I feel the need to explain these books are not the best books in the world. On the contary, these are books that explain US. Like the movie listing prior to this post, it's merely the books we have read and loved, regardless of the quality found in them. Me, a critic, saying 'regardless of quality.' Start laughing.
But really, there is no denying the power of cheap music, as the saying goes from Noel Coward. Look at this way. The television show COPS, is, without a doubt, some of the worst television there is. But it's been on the air since I was in high school. What does that mean? It means that sometimes, good and quality doesn't go hand-in-hand. That being said, here's 19 books that some how made a mark on little-ole-me...(I only brainstormed 19, so no, you didn't count incorrectly)
19: Shakespeare. Okay, I'm cheating, he's an author not a book. But having read him and finding I'm still reading him says something. I kept him high on the list, because I figured everyone would mention his name. Plus there's that British thing. I'll explain later. But he's the dude. All sex and violence. Want to woo someone? Quote this guy.
18: The Idiot's Guide to ___________/___________ for Dummies. They say you never stop learning. Well, in this world of deadlines, government requirements and nasty customers, that's sorely open for debate. Then came these books. Highly comprehensive (almost to a fault! Sometimes there's little explaination beyond listing of facts), these books have kept me informed on so many things. It started with my general curiousity about the American Civil War, lead to Eastern Philosophy and kinda flew from there. I love these books, sometimes reading ones I've no intention of using! I knew I had to list it here.
17: Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing/Superfudge. I know, I'm listing two books, but let's think about it, they are the same book, really. I read these titles in SECOND GRADE and I learned more then improving my reading. That books can deal with heavy topic issues alone, when no one was around. That you can love an author and their style and want to read more of it; that action can be internal on the part of the characters and, well, sometimes, you will find yourself laughing out loud when you read. My mother started a tradition when I was boy that still lives on today--I could read for 30 minutes if I wanted to stay up late. I still do that today. And here's the reasons why. (see also #13)
16: A Perfect Storm. I know, they made a decent title for a movie from this, but, well, as the saying goes, the book was better. Made to sound like an action novel, I read this in about 8 hours. I was glued to the pages, forgoing eating while I passed pages. This, like COPS, was bad writing, but presented in such a way, I kept turning those pages, kinda like rubbernecking an accident as it happened. This also links to my love of nonfiction. I've always picked nonfiction over fiction and it still bothers me--I'm a freegin English teacher!
15: Abnormal Psychology textbook. I was rummaging through a book bin in college when I came across this particular title. It was in the dollar bin, a broken cover. But I sat on the floor outside of the bookstore and started reading about all these wonderful items. Yes, I said wonderful. You see, I was in the midst of a creative writing course, and I noted a penchant for writing short, creepy stories. What a boon! Here was a listing of bad behaviors, any of which could become a tale of grotesque and abraesque! I grabbed it and it's still on my shelves today, ya know, in case I need some inspiration for why Johnny axed Malinda slowly.
14: Unoffical Guides. My love for nonfiction continues. I usually buy new copies of these texts every year for Disneyland and Disney World. They don't accept advertisments or pictures, so I find their blunt honesty refreshing. It makes me want to go more not less; even tho they are so critical. I use them whereever I travel. I just used New York City's with great success--how else did I understand that blasted subway!
13: Paddington Bear. I should have known that my most favorite class in history would have been my British Literature course! My uncle, an elementary school teacher growing up, gave me 3 of this series around the same time as SuperFudge by Judy Blume. I read them all, my mom passed the word and by Christmas time, all 22 books were in my possession. Not particularly deep books like Judy's, these books were British samples of life and I loved comparing them to American lingo and existences. I still can't see marmalade and not think of this little bear and his adventures. A great way to start reading.
12: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. More Brit Lit. That freegin little island over there has produced some of the best wordsmiths I've ever encountered. Here, again, having picked up the book from my big brother (the mentor program. My older brother would not have done something so noble) after watching the movie together one Sunday night, I was hooked. I rediscovered the book after taking that Brit Lit course and my teacher taught me about allegory. Suddenly, the book took on a deeper significance, just as Mr. Lewis had hoped. And yes, I am totally stoked about the movie opening for Christmas.
11: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. A travel murder book? True Crime? Nonfiction? This little mixing of genres is surprisingly well written, even the complexity of the storyline. It starts off as a travelouge, one of those on-the-spot journalist thingies, where the author rents an appartment and sees the town, giving advice. But when one person he meets kills another, and we're talking, like page 150 here, the book suddenly takes a whole new direction, using the locale we have been exposed to. It's facinating to see the genesis of story. Wisely, too, the author leaves his name out of the work, but keeps the whole thing in first person, so we begin to feel that the tale is happening to us. It gives the story further weight. And I couldn't put it down. From literary rumor, I hear he has, finally, finished a second tale, about Los Angeles. I'm curious to read it to see if it this book was a fluke, there really is talent there or that he's just rehashing to pay for his kids' college.
10. the Sano Ichiro series. Starting with Shinju and still going strong after seven books, I discovered Sano-san after reading the New York Times Book Review on an airplane many moons ago. The critic totally panned the book, but after reading the description, I knew I would like it. It, too, is mixture of genres. It's historical fiction meets mystery meets martial arts. Is that not me or what? The characters are predictable, the politics are a bit melodramatic, and for sheer fun, this is what I read. I can't put them down, sorta like drinking beer or smoking a cigarette. You know it's doing nothing for you, but it's such fun! Plus, I get a brief examination of Japanese culture in the 18th century. It's about a samurai who works for the Emperor as a detective. He's amazingly progressive, looking at dead bodies (a no-no for practitioners of Shinto) for clues, waging war against people supporting the shogun. Facinating to a fault. And the only series I wait eagerly for the next book. (the books' titles are Shinju, Bundori, the Way of the Traitor, The Black Lotus, the Perfumed Sleeve, The Samurai's Wife and the Dragon King's Palace)
Alright, I got you this far. I'll finish up the next nine tomorrow or Monday. Take care and keep reading!
But really, there is no denying the power of cheap music, as the saying goes from Noel Coward. Look at this way. The television show COPS, is, without a doubt, some of the worst television there is. But it's been on the air since I was in high school. What does that mean? It means that sometimes, good and quality doesn't go hand-in-hand. That being said, here's 19 books that some how made a mark on little-ole-me...(I only brainstormed 19, so no, you didn't count incorrectly)
19: Shakespeare. Okay, I'm cheating, he's an author not a book. But having read him and finding I'm still reading him says something. I kept him high on the list, because I figured everyone would mention his name. Plus there's that British thing. I'll explain later. But he's the dude. All sex and violence. Want to woo someone? Quote this guy.
18: The Idiot's Guide to ___________/___________ for Dummies. They say you never stop learning. Well, in this world of deadlines, government requirements and nasty customers, that's sorely open for debate. Then came these books. Highly comprehensive (almost to a fault! Sometimes there's little explaination beyond listing of facts), these books have kept me informed on so many things. It started with my general curiousity about the American Civil War, lead to Eastern Philosophy and kinda flew from there. I love these books, sometimes reading ones I've no intention of using! I knew I had to list it here.
17: Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing/Superfudge. I know, I'm listing two books, but let's think about it, they are the same book, really. I read these titles in SECOND GRADE and I learned more then improving my reading. That books can deal with heavy topic issues alone, when no one was around. That you can love an author and their style and want to read more of it; that action can be internal on the part of the characters and, well, sometimes, you will find yourself laughing out loud when you read. My mother started a tradition when I was boy that still lives on today--I could read for 30 minutes if I wanted to stay up late. I still do that today. And here's the reasons why. (see also #13)
16: A Perfect Storm. I know, they made a decent title for a movie from this, but, well, as the saying goes, the book was better. Made to sound like an action novel, I read this in about 8 hours. I was glued to the pages, forgoing eating while I passed pages. This, like COPS, was bad writing, but presented in such a way, I kept turning those pages, kinda like rubbernecking an accident as it happened. This also links to my love of nonfiction. I've always picked nonfiction over fiction and it still bothers me--I'm a freegin English teacher!
15: Abnormal Psychology textbook. I was rummaging through a book bin in college when I came across this particular title. It was in the dollar bin, a broken cover. But I sat on the floor outside of the bookstore and started reading about all these wonderful items. Yes, I said wonderful. You see, I was in the midst of a creative writing course, and I noted a penchant for writing short, creepy stories. What a boon! Here was a listing of bad behaviors, any of which could become a tale of grotesque and abraesque! I grabbed it and it's still on my shelves today, ya know, in case I need some inspiration for why Johnny axed Malinda slowly.
14: Unoffical Guides. My love for nonfiction continues. I usually buy new copies of these texts every year for Disneyland and Disney World. They don't accept advertisments or pictures, so I find their blunt honesty refreshing. It makes me want to go more not less; even tho they are so critical. I use them whereever I travel. I just used New York City's with great success--how else did I understand that blasted subway!
13: Paddington Bear. I should have known that my most favorite class in history would have been my British Literature course! My uncle, an elementary school teacher growing up, gave me 3 of this series around the same time as SuperFudge by Judy Blume. I read them all, my mom passed the word and by Christmas time, all 22 books were in my possession. Not particularly deep books like Judy's, these books were British samples of life and I loved comparing them to American lingo and existences. I still can't see marmalade and not think of this little bear and his adventures. A great way to start reading.
12: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. More Brit Lit. That freegin little island over there has produced some of the best wordsmiths I've ever encountered. Here, again, having picked up the book from my big brother (the mentor program. My older brother would not have done something so noble) after watching the movie together one Sunday night, I was hooked. I rediscovered the book after taking that Brit Lit course and my teacher taught me about allegory. Suddenly, the book took on a deeper significance, just as Mr. Lewis had hoped. And yes, I am totally stoked about the movie opening for Christmas.
11: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. A travel murder book? True Crime? Nonfiction? This little mixing of genres is surprisingly well written, even the complexity of the storyline. It starts off as a travelouge, one of those on-the-spot journalist thingies, where the author rents an appartment and sees the town, giving advice. But when one person he meets kills another, and we're talking, like page 150 here, the book suddenly takes a whole new direction, using the locale we have been exposed to. It's facinating to see the genesis of story. Wisely, too, the author leaves his name out of the work, but keeps the whole thing in first person, so we begin to feel that the tale is happening to us. It gives the story further weight. And I couldn't put it down. From literary rumor, I hear he has, finally, finished a second tale, about Los Angeles. I'm curious to read it to see if it this book was a fluke, there really is talent there or that he's just rehashing to pay for his kids' college.
10. the Sano Ichiro series. Starting with Shinju and still going strong after seven books, I discovered Sano-san after reading the New York Times Book Review on an airplane many moons ago. The critic totally panned the book, but after reading the description, I knew I would like it. It, too, is mixture of genres. It's historical fiction meets mystery meets martial arts. Is that not me or what? The characters are predictable, the politics are a bit melodramatic, and for sheer fun, this is what I read. I can't put them down, sorta like drinking beer or smoking a cigarette. You know it's doing nothing for you, but it's such fun! Plus, I get a brief examination of Japanese culture in the 18th century. It's about a samurai who works for the Emperor as a detective. He's amazingly progressive, looking at dead bodies (a no-no for practitioners of Shinto) for clues, waging war against people supporting the shogun. Facinating to a fault. And the only series I wait eagerly for the next book. (the books' titles are Shinju, Bundori, the Way of the Traitor, The Black Lotus, the Perfumed Sleeve, The Samurai's Wife and the Dragon King's Palace)
Alright, I got you this far. I'll finish up the next nine tomorrow or Monday. Take care and keep reading!
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Movie Review: Saved!
I had a sad falling-out with my own church about two years ago. I was pretty much a regular church goer prior to that. Seriously. Stop laughing. I've always labeled myself as 'spritual.' I was brought up in a multi-faith home, so I was not only into God, but also I knew the concept of religious tolerance better than most. It was truly a boon when I went to a Lutheran college.
Yes, I went to a Christian college.
What happened?
Well, after coming out, I did ALOT of reading and slowly reconciled what I believed with who I am. It actually strengthed my links to religion and gave me more hope then ever before. I could ignore the inane, uninformed banter of churches as they politically maneuvered to get in the White House. I could turn another cheek when churches did not practice what they preached. But when someone in my congregation said to me, "can't you celebrate Christ?"
I was crestfallen. My own church, an MCC, had pushed me away. Understand, this was a minister who said this. She was noticing I didn't dance in the aisles like so many others; I didn't sing as loud as the others, I guess, and it bothered her. For so long, I felt I was okay in the church, had fixed the previous problems and now the church was alienating me again.
It was with this, I came to the Christian movie, Saved! I guess, in my own way, I was hoping that it was a critical picture of the church that had pushed me away. But it wasn't. Well, not totally. It's the story of the usual "churchie," named Hillary Fae (played, quite well by Mandy Moore. Who knew she actually could do something in the acting department!), who embodies everything that Christian churches do but shouldn't. She alienates those who don't fit her image of Godly-ness, she plays politics and lies when it suits her.
Against her are the usual church rejects. A Jewish girl between the parochial school and juvie hall; the wheelchair bound older brother, the pregnant teen make the core--and what the church rallies against to gain votes and cash. The film dramatizes their conflict as all search for respect versus Hillary and her minions.
This is a good movie. But that's about it. It's not the critical piece I had hoped for, but it does have some symbolic characters showing agreeing with what I believe. That church followers tend to be elitist. But it never becomes scathing, as if afraid that the church would picket the movie should it cut too close to the bone. Surely, it mentions the usual church assumptions--the by sheer right of being a Christian, certain entitlements are permitted. For example, one girl believes if she has sex with her possible gay boyfriend, God will restore her virginity and his straightness; Hillary believes that by converting the Jewish girl, her place will be ensured in both heaven and the school.
Sounds most church goers I've sadly encountered.
But the movie just mentions these issues. It doesn't critize them or pull them out. Nor does it go the other way, showing that Christian belief systems might be right.
With that, the movie, really goes no where. It's not a particularly funny piece, unless, of coruse, you've gone to a Christian college, I suppose; it just sorta sits there. In the end, everything works out, but nothing really changes. The rejects stay oucasts, the diehards stay diehards.
I don't know, but I wanted something more, maybe, 'biting?' A movie to tackle these issues, instead of plodding along nicely to make sure no toes get stepped on. Surely, I'll rate this as middle of the road.
Yes, I went to a Christian college.
What happened?
Well, after coming out, I did ALOT of reading and slowly reconciled what I believed with who I am. It actually strengthed my links to religion and gave me more hope then ever before. I could ignore the inane, uninformed banter of churches as they politically maneuvered to get in the White House. I could turn another cheek when churches did not practice what they preached. But when someone in my congregation said to me, "can't you celebrate Christ?"
I was crestfallen. My own church, an MCC, had pushed me away. Understand, this was a minister who said this. She was noticing I didn't dance in the aisles like so many others; I didn't sing as loud as the others, I guess, and it bothered her. For so long, I felt I was okay in the church, had fixed the previous problems and now the church was alienating me again.
It was with this, I came to the Christian movie, Saved! I guess, in my own way, I was hoping that it was a critical picture of the church that had pushed me away. But it wasn't. Well, not totally. It's the story of the usual "churchie," named Hillary Fae (played, quite well by Mandy Moore. Who knew she actually could do something in the acting department!), who embodies everything that Christian churches do but shouldn't. She alienates those who don't fit her image of Godly-ness, she plays politics and lies when it suits her.
Against her are the usual church rejects. A Jewish girl between the parochial school and juvie hall; the wheelchair bound older brother, the pregnant teen make the core--and what the church rallies against to gain votes and cash. The film dramatizes their conflict as all search for respect versus Hillary and her minions.
This is a good movie. But that's about it. It's not the critical piece I had hoped for, but it does have some symbolic characters showing agreeing with what I believe. That church followers tend to be elitist. But it never becomes scathing, as if afraid that the church would picket the movie should it cut too close to the bone. Surely, it mentions the usual church assumptions--the by sheer right of being a Christian, certain entitlements are permitted. For example, one girl believes if she has sex with her possible gay boyfriend, God will restore her virginity and his straightness; Hillary believes that by converting the Jewish girl, her place will be ensured in both heaven and the school.
Sounds most church goers I've sadly encountered.
But the movie just mentions these issues. It doesn't critize them or pull them out. Nor does it go the other way, showing that Christian belief systems might be right.
With that, the movie, really goes no where. It's not a particularly funny piece, unless, of coruse, you've gone to a Christian college, I suppose; it just sorta sits there. In the end, everything works out, but nothing really changes. The rejects stay oucasts, the diehards stay diehards.
I don't know, but I wanted something more, maybe, 'biting?' A movie to tackle these issues, instead of plodding along nicely to make sure no toes get stepped on. Surely, I'll rate this as middle of the road.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Some Things Are Just Disturbing
I mean, like, why? Why does such crap and drivel like The Human Centipede exist. Well? It's probably like porn. Where everyone tires t...
-
I still have problems sleeping. Here I am, enjoying my summer vacation and still, it takes me forever to unwind at night. I'm a night pe...
-
Yeah, the old DJ here is playing requests. One of my fans seems to have asked me, in my grand and infinite knowledge to list three really go...
