Movie Review: Stuck on You

I have to admit to I rarely go see comedies in the theatre. For me, they are the provence of stage work, where the laughter helps the performance and enhances the interactions. I've noticed over the years that I rarely attend movies that could be defined as 'comedy.' I'll go see if I'm with a group who insists or it's mixed with another genre, like a musical comedy, but rarely upon it's own.

Okay, yes, I'll go see Disney cartoons...those could be thought of as comedies, I suppose.

So I rent movies, like this one, Stuck on You, by the Farrelly Brothers.

I gotta give it to the Farrelly Brothers. They have an amazing ability to protray people with exceptional circumstances in a manner that is humanizing as it is humorous. I mean it. Really. I noticed it here and in There's Something About Mary. People with special needs are shown as they are, warts and all, but are surrounded by an entourage that truly is the scum of the Earth--making them seem all the more real. Mary's younger brother was obviously a man with a severely limited intellectual capacity, but he was the only normal one, it seemed, in the bunch in that he never was softed to the eyes of the audience.

Same goes for the tale of Walt and Bob (?) Tenor. They are conjoined twins of distinct personalities and woes. But the world around them seems to be the one with the real problems, through it's lack of acceptance or inability to understand.

Now don't get me wrong. There is severe juvenile humor placed throughout the movie and it gives it the R rating it deserves. If you saw There's Something About Mary, you know what kind of bathroom humor I'm talking about.

I give credit also to Matt Damon and Greg Kinnear. They work well as a team and come off as understanding each other. I really am impressed with Matt. He really has outdone himself in avoiding the pitfalls that have befallen his compatriot, Ben Affleck. Instead of trying to become a marquee name, he's done parts that have expanded his repetoire and his ability. Like this movie. It's not bombastic; it wasn't a hit. It was simple and sweet. Bravo for both.

Overall, a decent movie. No complaints.

Movie Review: Chuck and Buck

I love watching these art movies this summer! It's just one nice surprise after the next.

Damn. I spoke too soon.

Then, Chuck and Buck arrived in the queue.

I am still wondering why on Earth this movie is made. I kept thinking of that reason for pop art, Andy Warhol, who, in his own way, said that art is pretty much anything. A can of soup. A movie of a person sleeping all night.

I could only wish this movie had as much reason for existing. I've not a clue what I watched. I rented it on a recommendation from Entertainment Weekly's reviews. I tended to agree with them.

It's good to see I've developed my own mind apart from their critics. There is no amount of acting, writing, directing or spectacle that makes this movie worth watching. It's an interesting premise that might have looked good on paper but the finished product does not do a thing.

It's the tale of two childhood friends that briefly reconnect after years of growing apart. One has matured and grown up (Chuck, looking like a photocopy of Matt Gibson from Dharma and Greg) the other is still stuck in his formative years, those being the best days of his dismal life (Buck).  Buck begins to stalk his former friend even after several obvious communications that they are not to be in contact.

But here's the thing, people would have called the police at the amount of involvement Buck invests in his stalking. No one seems to do this, no matter how intelligent they are protrayed. I started to think that perhaps there was some kind of underlying reason, like they felt pity for Buck or something--which would be completely contrary to what's presented, for Buck is a throughly dislikable character. In fact, I hated all these people, I did not care if they lived or died and that's not a good thing.

Really, I'm almost angry at watching the movie, and I don't believe that was their intention. In fact, I doubt they had an intention at all. So why make it? Was it, like Warhol's can of soup, so we can watch art? Screw it, the soup can was more interesting in so many ways.

Not a good movie at all.

Movie Review: Taboo

Okay, I give up. I'm moving to Asia, I'm thinking.

Combine these last two movies (Fleeing By Night and this one, Taboo) and what my research suggests, I can think it might be  a better place for people of my persuasion.

This latest movie, Taboo, plays directly into that. It is a gbl film that isn't afraid of itself and doesn't reduce itself by having stereotypes or swishes for a less sophisticated audience. In it, a young, handsome man and excellent swordsman joins a local militia in support of the shogunate. He is incredibly beautiful in comparison to his more hardcore brethren in the army. He begins an affair with another soldier and soon the men begin to argue who shall have a date with him. The jealousy runs unabated and becomes a concern for the commanders.

Where the movie works is in that the homosexuality is treated as a part of life. Texts I have read (most notably Male Colours by Gary Leupp, Comrade Loves of the Samurai by Ihara Saikaku, and the Love of the Samurai by Tsuneo Watanbe and Jun'ichi Iwata) show, while not as prevalent as in Greek culture, homosexuality was accepted as a normal part of everyday life. It was even encouraged, (as it is slightly in this movie), for a man may wish to protect his lover moreso then an average compatriot. Even in the book and miniseries Shogun, when the main character becomes stranded in Japan, they offer him women and he refuses, so they offer him a man. He becomes furious and the Japanese look on confused.

It's as if the Japanese had never see homosexuality as a bad thing--not until they came in contact with the gaijin.

Asian movie making, aside from martial arts films, I've noticed have a completely different feel then European and American films. It seems, at least to me, that American films really emphasize plot; European films really emphasize character. For example, in a movie like Pulp Fiction or Citizen Kane, the movie toys with the storyline, bouncing about itself in flashbacks and sudden changes in direction. European movies take their time to let an individual grown before our eyes. Life is Beautiful has the narrator gradually understand the sacrifices his father is making, and truly, it becomes a beautiful, character driven work.

Then there are Asian films. I'm beginning to notice a sense of the ascetic. It's as if the image itself is what is important. The main protagonist in this movie, Kano, is always shot in profile to highlight his smoldering looks. The grounds are manicured. It's as if the wind blows on the director's command. There's an inherent beauty and a nice change from the heavy pacing and hurried attitudes we see here in America. This movie is no different.

Now, yes, I'm fully aware of my bias here. You've seen me mention my books above; you should already know my love for martial arts. So it really should be no surprise that I liked this movie. Is there martial arts? A little and it is used very well. Kano is shown as being an incredibly adept fighter. But when asked to fight his lover, his skill falters, and the commanders see. What a way to use fighting as part of a story. The fighting does, however, peter out by the end of the film.

I really do recommend this film, if it is something that remotely interests you. It was a sleeper/surprise and well constructed.

 

Meditation: Sleep

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 person, I know that. Look at me now. I'm here writing while my beloved is snoozing away. But even after I finish my nightly writing, I still lie there at night and worry.
 
About work. About what's going to happen with the next elections. What's going on with my friends. Sleep doesn't come quickly.
 
Even my meditation (not this daily writing, but the actual sitting down and letting go) has been interupted. My mind wanders and cannot focus this summer. Last summer? Not a problem. I sat everyday without incident. This year? Nada.
 
What am I so worried about? I feel fine, damn good, if you were to ask me. Been exercising everyday and finally doing some creative writing. I have time to cook and clean. Walk the dog. Even lost a few pounds.
 
I can honestly say I am well.
 
Then bed time comes. I lie there everynight and stare at the dark, hearing every noise and whatnot. Is such maliase the sign of something bigger going on? Am I attuned to something just beyond human existence? A listlessness that is all pervasive?
 
I will survive, of this I can be sure. I will eventually sleep. The benefit too, of summer is that I can sleep in, which I do. I even treat myself to naps when my chores are done for the day.
 
Poe once said, "sleep. Those little slices of death. How I loathe them."
 
Perhaps I'm merely suffering for my art, the problem with having a creative mind. Anyone else experience this?
 
So I keep writing. Maybe one day, I'll sleep well. I miss it too. There was a time when i would keep a sleep journal, complete with a dream annotation. Maybe I should try again. Just like Joseph in the Bible. I could interpret dreams.
 
*I know this is not a movie review, but there's something I've noticed these last few days. I write my movie review and then I'm geared up to write creatively. It's as if I warm-up to writing, so that's why I'm here and back to my Zen meditations and poetry book. Thanks for you time. I think I'm ready now. I'm not, after all, ready for bed.
 
 

Movie Review: Fleeing By Night

I have this good friend, someone I have every trust in the world with--except on one topic. We have wholly different tastes in movies. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. We still go see movies on occasion together.
 
Besides, when did Siskel and Ebert agree?
 
But one thing was for sure, when those two agreed, it most have something pretty good, eh? Something worth buying a ticket for.
 
So when my colleague suggested this Chinese film, I was figuring it wouldn't be something I liked.
 
It started simply, a tale about an arranged marriage. A young cellist, living in America, comes back to China to meet his fiance. Through the meeting he sees a performance of an outstanding opera singer and becomes smitten. The fiance recognizes thi growing love between the two men and steps back. The actor, however, is in a liason with a wealthy patron. Rumors fly. The young man returns to America broken hearted and alone, but maintains contact with his once fiance.
 
The actor continues to feel for the young man and begins his own journey to be with him again.
 
My friend was right. I loved this movie.
 
What I loved was that it didn't fall into the American trap of having 1)yelling in a public place, 2)crying and hissy fits 3)all the gays swish, so the audience can find them in a crowd, 4)violence of any sort and 5)love born out of sheer beautiful people.
 
The young protagonist falls for the actor, because his performance is so full and rich-not because he's a blonde or running around all stunning-like. The girl doesn't storm out because her betrothed doesn't love her, but understands the force of their growing love. And the homosexuality isn't the issue, the availability of that love is.
 
Wow. That's nice to see and a rare treat, just like this movie. I really recommend it.
 
And there wasn't a single drag queen or self hating queen in the bunch. America has so much to catch up on.

I will tell you, however, I am going to listen very closely to what my friend recommends from here on out.

Movie Review: Dahmer

Ahhhhh, the beauty that is True Crime. Really, the province of yellow rags and celebrity gossip, I have to admit to this guilty pleasure. It all started with the book, The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule. Couldn't put it down. Proof that truth can really be more exciting than fiction.
 
And I was a fan.

I found I really did have an affinity for the serial killer. Not to say I wanted to act out their deeds or promote them to some kind of anti-establishment t-shirt. No, I used them for fuel, really, for my own creative writings. There's nothing like scaring the bejabbers out of yourself with such horrific prose, analyzing  it in your head for a few days and then spitting it back out as a tale.
 
It was such a path that lead me to the tale of Dahmer. Trust me, it wasn't like I hadn't already heard about the guy. I even had read two books about him. One, the piece by his father was actually very well written.
 
Dahmer's story is interesting in that he is a minority, not the mainstream profile for a serial killer. He had some traits common to the serial killer...other than the excessive body count...like hurting small animals and severe social isolation. But he was gay. I can only think of that happening three other times in the brief history of serials. Lee Wournos was a woman; Wayne Williams was black; John Wayne Gacy was also gay.
 
Secondly, as I had read more and more, Jeffrey was also surprisingly guilt ridden by the killings. Most killers boasted and wanted attention, but Jeffrey wanted to be caught. He looked as his spree like one would look at a disease, something to cure and rid.
 
Please, understand, I offer no sympathy for the devil. In fact, my readings have proven that these men and women are the reason for capital punishment. Humanity knows of no predators; perhaps this is nature's way of filling that vacuum.
 
Serial killers are a fascinating subject, pure and simple. The mind it takes to kill, repeatedly, with intelligence and cunning is the stuff suspense is made of.
 
And good movies. Most recently, Monster, with which the tale of Lee Wournos was elaborated on, contains, most probably, the most complete performance of a woman in modern history. The Oscar could not do justice to the acting in that motion picture. Charlize Theron brings the horrors this woman committed into perspective. She does create sympathy for this creature and a certain pathos.
 
The reason why I compare this movie to Monster, is because there is something going on I did not expect. I felt sympathy her, for Jeffrey Dahmer. I do not know if that was the intended result of the filmmakers, but it was certainly evident.
 
Now Dahmer is no Monster, as it were. The scope of the movie is wholly different. This movie comes off as one act play, with one major setting--Jeffery's apartment. But as the film unraveled, I went from expecting to be frightened to a remoted curiosity. There's an inherent fright factor in the stories of serial killers (see: Red Dragon, Silence of the Lambs), rarely do you expect a dramatic interpretation of the suffering of a young man that motivates him to commit murder.
 
Yes, Jeffrey is the protagonist in this story. You don't want to like him, but here is something in his plight that we can, again remote, relate to. He comes off as so lonely (and a tight performance by Jeremy Renner, all the more human) that he kills to maintain a control over a totally un-extravagant life.
 
It's surprisingly deep and sickeningly rewarding. I felt dirty at my reactions to it, but I cannot deny it's impact.
 
Now, I have mentioned I knew of Jeffrey long before the movie, and there are many inaccuracies in what what happens within the plot of this movie. What people fail to realize is that filmmaking is a medium. That is, a way of perceiving the world. A book has thousands of pages as an option to explain something. A movie has a camera and two hours. I believe that the audience needs to appreciate the fact that sometimes items are discarded for dramatic effects. It's a sad sacrifice but sometimes necessary.
 
So if you are interested in what really happened, this isn't the movie to watch. If you want to see a riveting character development piece, then fine. I really found this to be a bit of a sleeper.

Movie Review: My Beautiful Laundrette

Wow. What can I say? For once, a queer movie where the gayness was not a detriment, not a foible. No one ends up dead because they are gay. No one is self-loathing because they like men. In fact, one character improves himself by his own acceptance. There are no drag queens or bars or men who swish into very shot.

And this was made in 1986? Back when Reagan was doing his best to deny that gay people existed? Impressive.

My Beautiful Laundrette is an interesting, rare piece of indie filmmaking. It's the starting point for Stephen Frears, who later create the great Dangerous Laisons and Daniel Day-Lewis prior to his Oscar turn in My Left Foot.

As for Day-Lewis, he's reduced to a secondary role, which is interesting. The dude is so intense with his energy, you watch him instead of the leads. You can see the future. And you can see it in every film since. Maybe it's because he's Irish. They aren't exactly known as a subtle people.

But the film does lack a certain guidance. It introduces it's credits in spin cycle, complete with bubbling noises, hinting it as a comedy, but it's far from it. It's very dramatic, but the depth is not moving, with no deep themes about changing worlds or changing minds. It's best defined as a character study. You have a character and watch what happens. It's not long enough that it becomes boring.

I actually recommend it for anyone into curio movies, but really, you aren't missing much.

And a Laundrette? I guess in the UK, that's what we would call a Laundromat. Those Brits. How they mangle English, no?

That's a joke, people.