Frustration^3

I get frustrated when people get frustrated over the things I'm frustrated about.

Let me explain.

I say I don't like something, or something bothers me, and then someone else is upset or offended that I feel that way. That sucks. I'll dislike what I want to dislike. And I'll be as convinced as I want to be that I'm right.

I'm thinking mainly of the fact that certain people (who I love, but sometimes frustrate me--if you're reading this, you know who you are) are offended that I openly and rigidly state that New Moon is a bad movie. It's not well-acted, designed, shot, directed, edited, or written. Those things are true. You can disagree all you want, and that's fine. But don't be offended when I won't concede that this film might be "good" by some other definition. I don't think that it's good in any way, and I will not be upset if you disagree. I promise.

The thing is, it's at least possible that those who take offense at my opinions are more or less acting, ironically, defensively. They know it's a bad film, and they're ashamed to like it. I say, DON'T BE ASHAMED. I like some bad movies, and I don't care if people think I have poor taste because of it. You can still be a good, useful, intelligent human being and like a really terrible movie here and there. It's OK. But don't be upset when I frankly state that the movie you love sucks, because I'm certainly not upset about it.

In other news...

...well, no. That's actually all I really wanted to say.

Oh, but before I go, I need to mention how awesome and cool YNAB is. I've never used any other budgeting software because everything else I've seen looks too complicated and expensive. Yes, both. But since I've started using YNAB, I'm at least a little bit smarter with my money. And I found out that a little bit smarter goes a long way with cash. I'm mainly writing this for a chance to get the newest version for free, I'll be honest. But it's also a product I feel like I can honestly and enthusiastically endorse. Here, again (in case you missed it) is the link: YNAB (You Need a Budget)

Sometimes, you just gotta

BLOG.

Listen. I'm sorry. Not for the fact that I haven't blogged in a million years (six weeks), but that I don't really have anything to say right now. Just a desire to say it.

My life is absurdly, profoundly, obscenely busy, and I'm barely keeping up with the weekly commitment I've made to Rhombus. Poor them. Because I'm awesome.

I DO have good news. A week and a half ago, we finished shooting "One Item or Less." That means that it's at least possible it will be done (meaning ready to SCREEN) in December. That's the goal. And if not that, then January. JANUARY. I'm not sure how, um...good...it is, but I think that it will be engaging to some degree. The footage is really pretty, and some of the concepts we've come up with for sound design and transitions are very, for lack of a better word, neat.

Can I say how incredible this has all been? By the way? Writing a screenplay, organizing a crew, taking the script through pre-visualization and pre-production, casting it, finding a place to shoot it, getting everything pulled together...and then shooting it! It's quite wonderful. And completely, consumingly addictive. I want to do this forever.

I would talk a little bit about the films I've seen recently, but why? You can read my reviews on Rhombus.

What WON'T be on Rhombus is that I watched (with a group of very attractive people) Nacho Libre again last night. If you haven't seen it, fix that. And if you have seen it, but only once, and you didn't like it too well, then watch it again. If you have seen it at least twice...it's pretty great, isn't it? Jared Hess is the man.

And speaking of him, Gentlemen Broncos comes out this weekend in Salt Lake, at the Broadway Theater. That's the most important information I have to share, assuming you didn't already know it. Critics almost universally hate it, and I can't wait to see it.

Anyway.

On a parting, unrelated note, I (and I'll provide no context for this statement at all) love girls. Women. Female human beings. They're awesome.

That is all.

Rhombus

Friends, family, people who I don't know but are no less beautiful for it,

I have just agreed to start writing for a new online magazine called Rhombus. It's local--BYU students run it. It's also striving desperately to replace another local publication called Square Magazine, which was a little bit like Watchtower, left at your door, only vaguely interesting, and suffocatingly self-aggrandizing.

I have a review of the film 9 posted as of yesterday, so go check it out.

The sad part of this tale is that I probably won't be spending much time at all posting on this here blog as long as I'm writing for Rhombus. I want to see that online magazine succeed, so I'll be focusing all of my efforts and sweet skeeels in marketing toward getting that title out there.

Every once in a while, I'll probably throw up a post about something Rhombus probably doesn't care about. But my reviews, and my political views, and my thoughts about important things (of which I have SO many), have now all found themselves a new home.

So go there. And read my review. And then read other stuff too. Cause they got pretty good writers over there, and other pretty cool stuff.

One Item or Less

It's official, I'm making a movie.

Last Thursday, I and my fledgling crew had our first production meeting for the short film "One Item or Less." I wrote the screenplay, and I'm going to direct the film. Wyatt Strain will be producing, and A. Todd Smith is my cinematographer, which means this little movie's gonna be PRETTY.

Here's the short synopsis I wrote for IndieGoGo, and which I don't feel like rewriting. Ever. (Do you know how difficult it is to write a decent synopsis? I'll tell you: very.)

A mysterious caller gives a man a choice. What one thing would he save if his house was burned to the ground? It is an important question because the caller has promised to do just that.

And the tagline: "What one thing is more important than anything else?"

How cool is that? Right? Eh...? EH? (I'll tell you...)

Here are three links that are important:

Facebook Group

Facebook Page

IndieGoGo Page

This little film, as insignificant as it is in the grand scheme of anything, is nevertheless a bit of a big deal for me. I've never directed anything beyond the one to three minute exercises we do in our film classes. In other words, I don't know what I'm doing. All I've got is about fifteen hundred pounds of theory packed into my skull and an absurd belief in my own abilities. It's bound to turn out badly, but if I can create a short film that even some people enjoy, then I will feel encouraged to continue on in my aspirations to become a bona fide director. If not...I suppose I'll...well, I'll probably keep trying.

"Never give up! NEVER surrender!" (Name that film and you get a candy bar. It's true--just ask Kelsie. Right Kelsie? How was your Reeses?)

Mudbison

I'm not huge into the local music scene. Let's be honest with each other. Most of the local bands in Provo are...not very good. Certainly, there has occasionally passed through some very talented artists, but there seems to be an overall aesthetic of drab unoriginality to most of what passes for homegrown music here. Everybody is an acoustic-guitar-playing, Jack Johnson wannabe. Or they're...I don't know, Relient K? I mean, I have nothing against Relient K, but you really only need one of them. And the same goes for Mr. Johnson.

Anyway, there's one band that blows me away. Well, two, but one of them isn't quite local anymore. These two bands are RuRu (Isaac Russell), and Mudbison (Spencer Russell). These boys are TALENTED. I'm not talking clever or charismatic--they have serious talent. They are musicians of the highest order and songwriters to be reckoned with.

Isaac has gotten himself signed with a major label, and no longer qualifies to be considered part of the local scene.

But Spencer (of Mudbison) is just getting warmed up. You can still see him locally on a pretty regular basis. I tell you this with some urgency, noting that they probably won't stick around small time for long.

Here's an important article.

And here's a sweet song (which also happens to be a Youtube video):



I'll admit that the reason I know about these guys is because they are the sons of one of my favorite (FAVORITE) professors, Tom Russell, who teaches many important film classes.

Mudbison is a big deal. Go see them, if you can, on the 25th of this month at the Velour. They're wonderful.

NEW!

First, here's a quick review of a movie I saw last November (the Third in my Netflixing series.) No, hang on, even before that, I feel like I should admit that I won't be reviewing every movie that has come into my house from that intrusively marketed company (I really feel like once I sign up for the service, I should stop getting pop-up advertisements for it). I'll just go over the good to great ones I missed.

Shotgun Stories. I really, really enjoyed this one. It's naturalistic and slow, which is something that's very difficult to pull off well. The characters are all southern, white trash types. They hold dead end jobs or no jobs at all, and they barely get along with each other. But the story is powerful, and the themes it illustrates are extremely meaningful and complex.

On the outside, it's about a family feud, hence the title. But it ends up being about transcending the baser instincts of revenge and pride. The ending is beautiful. I recommend this film. It's not for everyone, being as slow as it is. And it's definitely gritty and heavy. There's not a lot of joy in this film. But I still, very highly, recommend this film.

So what's "NEW": I'm going to only be posting once every week in the coming months. School started and I no longer have time to just blog away all the time (much as I love it). So that means cutbacks, people. Don't blame me. Blame life.

Books (also J names)

This is a movie/media blog (which technically encompasses books as well, but...), so here's a movie review:

Julie and Julia is both a book and a movie. You probably knew about the movie. And the book. Probably. But MORE probably, you knew about the movie, cause it's out in theaters right now, and that's where I saw it on Wednesday night.

I'm beginning to suspect that Meryl Streep is mentoring Amy Adams. It's a good match--they're both absolutely brilliant actresses, but very different in style and range. I think Streep can probably do anything, and Amy Adams has this ability to cause every single person in the world to fall in love with her, and believe completely in her sweetness. She gets her audiences thinking, "Well, if she's really that wonderful, then I guess the world can't be that bad after all." (It is--but she certainly makes it better.)

All I need to say to qualify my deep approval for this endearing film about French cooking is that it was adapted and directed by Nora Ephron (You've Got Mail, Sleepless in Seattle, When Harry Met Sally). Also, not for the sake of redundance but in spite of it, Amy Adams and Meryl Streep are really, really grand (see: Doubt).

But this post is really about books.

I went walking through the library today (BYU has one of the largest and most awesome libraries this side of anywwhere), shopping for a new stockpile. I like to have two or three books out at a time so that if I finish one, I can go ahead and just start on another that same day or the next. Or, if I don't end up liking one of them, I can switch with terrible swiftness.

I just finished the 2nd book in the Rigante series by David Gemmell (whom I love), and now it's time for a change of scenery. So I went through my Goodreads account and picked out a handful of titles that sounded good--"No Country for Old Men" by Cormac McCarthy (an author I've been meaning to read for over a year now), "A Scanner Darkly" by Philip K. Dick, and "Embraced by the Light," which is an I-died-and-came-back book by Bettie J. Eadie (and Curtis Taylor, who happens to be the father of one of my very good friends.)

Libraries are magnificent structures. They are deep repositories of human knowledge, collected, refined, and utilized over the thousands of years of our recorded history. Granted, the vast bulk of it all has been written, printed, and distributed within the past few hundred years, but even so, all of the words we write and the thoughts we think are at least subtley influenced by the countless generations that have spanned the preceding millenia. Walk into a library, and you have entered a sacred place where knowledge and understanding have been worshipped since recorded time began.

There is a trend, in the rush to modernization, toward perfect efficiency and absolute convenience. In a digital age, we welcome the steady decline of wasted paper that creates mounds of transiently useful printed material. We think, all of us, even if we forever refuse to admit it, that hard copied, flesh and blood books will eventually die out. To look out over the world at production management and streamlined industry, the printing, sale, and reading of actual, physical books does seem to be an increasingly dated artifact of an older society. We'll keep them around for a while as a memory. We'll put them on shelves and never read them (much like we do already). The ones people actually read will go into museums before they've had a chance to turn to dust, a right to which all living things are ultimately entitled.

We know they'll die. We know it. Things like the Kindle are a meager beginning to what our immediate future surely holds. Eventually, a la the iPhone, we will all purchase some brand of some device that really does do it all, including store every book we could ever read or possess in a lifetime.

And why not? It's more efficient that way. Cheaper. More sure. Once something gets saved digitally and globally, it's forever. The data of our public consciousness is backed up and then backed up again. The words of this blog might not ever really die--who knows?

In this line of thinking, however, lies our greatest misunderstanding about ourselves. We built computers to increase our productivity, and thank the heavens for it. But we are not like what we've built. We have not created computers in our own image, we have created them in the likeness of machines, without aspirations, dreams, or comprehensions. Once we built them, however, we somehow began to worship their god: Efficiency. Not all of us, but an ever-expanding number of us. And even those who do not bow to this god believe in its existence and omnipotence. The older generations meekly accept that this god will one day cow the world. "Every knee shall bow...even if I don't, my kids, or their kids, will."

Maybe. But it will be a false god, and will only shrink and diminish us. We are physical creatures. Efficiency can be a virtue, like fire, but it must be used, not worshipped. Our bodies must be in motion, and our hands must be at work, no matter the power and utility of our machines, or we will die by becoming less than what we've built.

Pull a book from a shelf. Open it. Read it. Turn its pages and let it speak to you as only it can. Have you ever noticed how silent the words on a screen are? Those words are not meant for hands. They are aritifices, illusions, unfiltered information. They have they're use (as I, sitting here and typing my thoughts, obviously believe), but they are more limiting than we usually realize.

Reading a book is somewhat sedentary, but it is natural and powerful. When we read something projected into our eyes, nothing else moves. Our bodies are captive. The orbs in our heads flick back and forth almost imperceptibly, but our flesh is motionless. What happens after several hours in front of a screen? You fidget. Your body shifts, stretches, writhes. These are the motions of attempted escape.

Of course it is far from impossible to read too much, whether it be from a computer or from bound sheets of paper--either way, an excess of physical inactivity is supremely unhealthy. But books are better for your soul, and by that I mean the combination of body and spirit (or mind, if that suits you). We are dual, composite creations. Books are good, and not only because they have assisted us in our intellectual evolution--not just as a stepping stone toward perfect efficiency. They must endure because we need them in order to remember who we are.

It's nothing new to say that we've lost as much wisdom as we've gained knowledge. We know so much, but the stature of our minds seems to be shrinking. How much of what afflicts us as modernized human beings could be amelioratedo mended by the simple action of picking up a book in your hands? And opening the cover. And turning the pages....

And reading.

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime

In English: I've Loved You So Long.

This is a movie most of you probably haven't heard of. It's French, so made and so written. And it's a bit of an arty film about two sisters who are reunited after 15 years.

And it's excellent. They marketed this film brilliantly:













That is the face of Kristin Scott Thomas. She is wonderful in basically every way. There is not, to my knowledge, a more elegant, beautiful, and supremely talented actress alive--she sells the film better than anything else could have.

I don't want to give too much of the plot away, because it's much better unraveled slowly, carefully, with the artistic precision intended by the filmmakers. It is a story about immense pain and suffering that took place in the past--outside of the frame. But the past events, even cloaked in mystery for so much of the film, provide a profoundly dynamic and compelling foundation for everything that happens within the story we see.

The acting was all-around incredible. There wasn't a weak spot in the cast. But, of course, Thomas steals the show with the impenetrable depth behind her eyes. You may never have seen anyone communicate so much with so little expression. Her performance is understated to a degree that is extremely rare in today's Oscar-grabbing climate.

In order to truly impress me, however, a film must display humanity with grace and power. That means believable, redeemable characters. I have little patience for "bad guys" in films. I understand their utility in melodrama, but the truth is that most of us don't know many truly bad people. And no one in this film is bad. Some of them are weak, but only sometimes. Some of them are wrong, but not always. There's intolerance, but only temporarily. Most of all, there is love, in abundance and in all shades. And the love carries the story and the characters. By the end, the message is clear: Terrible tragedies visit the best of us, and it is only love and compassion of others that can help us through. We need other people, and sometimes desperately.

I'll Garden YOUR State!

Why do I always feel compelled to mess with titles that way? I think that somewhere, deep down, I'm afraid that someone will think I'm being pretentious by giving one of my dumb little movie review blog posts the same title as the actual movie. Plus, I love messing with words.

Garden State (Zach Braff, Natalie Portman, Peter Sarsgaard) was the second DVD I ever got in the mail from Netflix. It was one of those movies that had been roundly recommended by a lot of people whose opinions I respect. It seemed like this was the Generation Y movie to see. Edgy, emotional, touching, funny...you know. The kind of movie kids like me could connect to.

When asked if there was anything in it that would seriously offend me, my friends would respond that it had a lot of language, but nothing else to speak of.

Ironically, that was my primary problem with this film. It's about a TV actor who returns home for his mother's funeral after nine years of being away. He reconnects with old friends, meets a girl...etc. The acting is good, and the writing is quirky and unique. So it mostly works OK.

But the whole thing is absurdly self-conscious in that "look how deep I am" way that makes you cringe. It moves slowly and thoughtfully, but never misses an opportunity to point out its own thoughtfulness. This core problem with the film, its story, and the way its told, is unexpectedly illustrated by the sheer number of F-bombs shot through the dialog. By the end, the way the characters have expressed themselves feels much less like real life and much more like a smug, inexperienced new writer.

So the film was OK. It didn't leave much with me other than mild irritation and a slight haze of sadness.

Here's an alternative: Elizabethtown (Orlando Bloom, Kirsten Dunst). I know, weird that I'd offer an alternative. Well, it's good, and it's a very similar movie. Guy goes back home after the death of his father, reconnects with people, meets a girl yadda yadda yadda. But it's a more effective comedy, has better feel-good moments, and, as far as I'm concerned, pulls off quirkiness in a much more satisfying way. I really enjoyed it. A lot. I wouldn't call it a GREAT movie, but I would certainly say it's worth watching. There are scenes that will stick with you for quite some time.

But there's another problem with both of these movies, both of them written and directed by men (Zach Braff and Cameron Crowe). It's the story of boy meets girl, girl saves boy. This dynamic, the way these kinds of stories are so often told, is this: one day, a guy will meet this perfect girl who will save him from all of his problems. The romance is grand and mystical, and the ending is much like a fairy tale, except with the girl in the shining armor (not that there's anything wrong with girls wearing shining armor).

I realize neither of these stories rigidly stick to this model, but that underlying theme is predominant. People who consume and accept these kinds of stories are damaged by them. Men gain an impossible, idealistic expectation that they will one day meet the girl of their dreams who will make everything better somehow, and women are presented with examples that they cannot possibly match. The whole system is based on fantasy--particularly the fantasy of the writer/director.

But we can't judge these guys too harshly. They are simply working with and expressing themselves through a model that society gave them. And it's a nice story. It does feel good. I would simply suggest that as you see films like these, you notice and understand the dramatic difference between what they're telling you, and what real life is really like.

By the way, if you agree or disaggree with me in any way, I would love some feedback in the comment section. Don't be shy. Comments are like pizza, in that I like them both a whole lot.

Holla fo Olla

I have some friends who are working on a "no budget" feature. That means that they're making a film (of the comedy-action variety) for no money whatsoever. These guys are pretty talented film students, so I'm confident that the end product will be pretty entertaining.

Today, they showed me this:



There, now you are among the first handful of people to see this first manifestation of their efforts. It's sort of an amorphous, viral marketing video sort of thing. It's place in and connection to the film they are making probably won't be clear for quite some time, but I think it's pretty fantastic all by itself. Also, I'm basically certain Bil (the muscly man in the video) doesn't eat Easy Mac.

Ode to Regina Spektor

I've been thinking a lot about Regina Spektor, because I love her, and decided to therefore mention a very neat preview of this film that's been out for a little while now bearing the hip title (500) Days of Summer. [In my mind, that title would fit well for a sequel to 300. But my opinion doesn't matter. I DON'T MATTER!!! ("I matter plenty." - The first person who can name that movie gets a treat!)] The music for the trailer is the song "Us" by Regina. It's not my favorite song by her, but I do like it very much.

As of now, if the speakers on your computer are on and functional, you should be hearing this very song. If you wait around a while, you should also hear other songs that I like very much by this very same talented artist. (I'm trying to increase my use of the word "very," because it's a very, very important word.)

I am a terrible person. In other, less self-deprecating terms, I don't buy music very often (and now secret record-label police are going to hunt me down and stick ice picks into my ears--a fate I admittedly deserve.) I don't download a lot of music, but I do get it, and a lot of it, from friends.

The only reason I'm sharing this crime with you is so that you understand the weight of what I'm about to say.

I BOUGHT Regina Spektors latest album, "Far," for full price, off of Amazon.com. It's important to me that I adequately communicate how much I love and appreciate this wonderful woman and her wonderful music.

This is one of my favorite tracks off "Far." The video's not quite so compelling, but listen to the words. (Also, you might want to pause the music player at the bottom of this page before you hit play. I'm just sayin.)



The song is called "Laughing With," and it so beautifully captures the bredth and depth of human suffering with a simplicity and poignancy that is remarkable. And, somehow, throughout, stays light and happy. There are few songs with so rich a perception of God's personality.

And, to close out my ode to Ms. Spektor, here is a VERY awesome video that you've probably seen before. I show this to the film class I TA every semester. They love it, and so do I.

Avatar...DONE!

This girl named Laura, who is now spending a small portion of her life in a facility that is training her to become an unstoppable, Russian-speaking missionary, was obsessed with this show called "Avatar: The Last Airbender." She persuasively insisted that I give it a try.

So I did.

Thanks to Netflix, I have now finished all three seasons of this enormously enjoyable cartoon. And let me tell you something about this cartoon--it is ENORMOUSLY enjoyable.

I have friends who hate anime, and I sympathize with them, because, and let's be honest, what's NOT to hate about anime? My exceptions are very limited: anything by Hayao Miyazaki (I definitely had to look that up)--Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, My Neighbor Totoro, Howl's Moving Castle, and so on--and now, beautifully, Avatar.

Of course, Avatar isn't really anime. It's an American-made, anime-loving cartoon. It's influences (this from our beloved Wikipedia) are East and South Asian, and Western animation, so it ends up being more interesting and culture-rich than any of them.

I can't even really tell you why I loved it so much. The animation is great, I suppose. It's beautiful and exciting. But the writing is often corny, the humor almost unendurably silly, and most of the dramatic dialog is definitively on-the-nose. It's moralistic, and the characters barely escape being flat.

But the story is fantastic. It's not so crazy that you never know what's coming next, but it's deeply imaginative and moves along at a really excellent pace. Each subplot is satisfyingly fun or touching, depending, and the overall story arch--the one that stretches over all three seasons--is really, really cool.

And the characters are actually quite lovable, once you've got half a dozen episodes under your belt. And the humor succeeds just often enough at being incredibly funny.

Crap, everyone, I love this show. I couldn't wait to dig into each disc as it got mailed to my apartment. If I had to go a couple of days without seeing it, I felt like dying. But here's the best part, now that it's over, I'm OK. I'm happy with it. There's no enduring ache that there are no more episodes to watch. The story is finished, everything happened that needed to happen, and I'm satisfied. It's a great feeling.

Want to know what the show's actually about? Well I won't tell you. You can find out more about it here, or buy it here (if you have Netflix, you can watch the whole first season online), or get excited about the movie adaptation Shyamalan is doing here.

Man, I wish I could bend stuff.

Netflixing

I have a subscription to Netflix and I love it.

I use the $14/month plan, which is the 2-at-a-time unlimited deal, along with access to the "Instant" library of movies and TV you can watch online. I might downgrade to the 1-at-a-time plan come Fall semester, as I will no longer have time to breathe, let alone watch a movies two or three times per week, but I digress.

I looked over my rental history, and discovered that within the past eleven (almost) months, I've had just shy of 100 DVDs mailed to my apartment. Now, that number has been somewhat bolstered by multi-disc seasons of TV on DVD, but it's still an impressive figure. And that's not counting the films I've seen in the theaters or on my computer (via that "Instant" library I just mentioned).

Point is: I've got a lot of fuel to burn. So what I'm going to do is go through that list and, one by one, pass along a short review.

Here's my first.

The date is roughly the 22nd of September, and it is the first of many syndicated movie nights. My friend Jon had a very sweet big screen, HD TV, and the surround sound system it deserved. So we decided to set up movie nights where the attendees would be expected to sit quietly as the movie played, respecting the art as much as enjoying each other's company.

There Will Be Blood was our maiden voyage. I think there might have been four of us. Or three. A slow start to a long tradition.

But the film was pretty incredible. Daniel Day-Lewis was often described as a tour de force, and it was true, absolutely. The man devoured us whole from the screen. He was a self-described oil man, but really, he was a typhoon.

I probably don't need to fill you in on the plot because it was nominated for eight Oscars and won two of them the same year No Country for Old Men came out (a film that will get a much broader treatment sometime on this blog in due futurity.) But if you don't know, it was about a man named Daniel Plainview and his hand in the oil industry when it was still very young.

The performances were nothing short of spectacular, which Daniel Day-Lewis won the Oscar for Best Actor. And the cinematography was supernaturally good. The film was stunning every second, and for that it also won the Oscar for Best Cinematography.

After all that, however, I don't feel like I can fully endorse this film because it was perhaps one of the more depressing films I've seen. The culminating moment between the two most important and powerful characters unfolded with such depravity, brutality, and raw human rage that I felt personally injured when it was over. The film wasn't rated R for anything graphically depicted. It was for the hate so meticulously painted on the screen.

To say that I wasn't moved, that this film didn't leave a lasting impression upon me, would be utterly disingenuous. I can't help but admire this kind of craftsmanship and artistry. But it was a dark, dark film. You might hear people quote it--"I - drink - your - MILKSHAKE!"--and laugh. I've joined in. But that laughter, I believe, very often hides the troubling aftermath of this film in the minds of those who watched it. It's sort of the same as laughing at cancer. It's an ugly thing. Humor is a coping mechanism.

***PS: There is a new post on my new blog - That Hideous Strength

Check It Out

I just started a new blog. I mentioned that this one will now be entirely dedicated to movies and TV. Well, you knew I would, and I did: I now have a political blog titled "That Hideous Strength." If you want to know what the title means, well, you'll just have to check it out :-)

Locker Demons

When I go back through old posts to figure out when and where I said stuff, I'm sure this post's title will be really helpful. But what's done is done (as I refuse to click on the field one inch above where I'm typing to simply change it).

Two short pieces of news:

1. The "Only Good Movies Blog" recently linked to my review of The Pianist in a list of films they called "75 War Movies to See Before You Die." I have no idea how they came accross my humble blog, but there you go. I'm pleased.

2. I started a new blog called "That Hideous Strength." Its purpose is to fulfill my insatiable desire to blog about politics without alienating those of you who would prefer never to think about the subject. I haven't posted in it yet, but when I do, you can put money on my letting you know.

[gonna try these new things called section breaks]

OK, I've seen two movies since my last post.

Angels and Demons was just about as good as I hoped it would be. My hopes weren't outrageously high, but I'd heard good things, such as, "It was way better than Da Vinci Code," and "I really enjoyed this one, as opposed to the first one...what was it called?" and "The Da Vinci Code sucked." The last wasn't really praise for Angels, I recognize, but I included it because as far as word-of-mouth goes, that's about as true as it gets.

I mostly hated the "first" one because it was anti-Catholic propaganda. And while I am not Catholic, I very much respect the church. And I will not tolerate film that is designed to specifically tear down a Church or any other benevolent institution. I hate it when people make and watch anti-Mormon filth, and it would therefore be hypocritical of me to endorse something like the Code.

But Angels and Demons was NOT anti-Catholic, or anti-religious. In fact, it was only with that assurance that I consented to see it. As it turns out, many of the most dignified, respectable, good people in this film are deeply, devoutly religious. The film turned out to be one of the more powerful advocates for the cooperation of religion and science that I've seen. As such, it can't help but win my respect.

But I'll put aside my feverish biases for a moment and focus instead on the quality of the film as a film, and not a piece of propaganda. As entertainment, it also far surpassed its cumbersome predecessor. The acting was better, the characters were richer, but most of all, it was paced FAR better. It wasn't and didn't need to be an adrenaline driven thriller, but it did need to be compelling, and those bones it had in spades.

The plot was servicable. I won't say anything about it because I think that the twists are half the fun. Suffice it to say that nothing really turns out to be what they set it up to be, and they pull it off rather well. If you've read the book, of course there won't be any surprises. But the film stands on its own just fine. I would know--I haven't read the book.

[see, section breaks are super-def-way cool]

Last night, I saw the best film about the war in Iraq that I've seen yet. And, I would bet, the best that's been made up to this point.

The Hurt Locker was not about the politics of the war. Not at all. It was about the war itself. Jeremy Renner played the protagonist, and did it with a style that helps men understand that they'll never be that tough. He's the real deal, the "wild man," hardcore, crazy, unstoppable. Here's his secret: he's addicted to war.

The film was powerful on many levels. On the surface, it was a gripping war movie, with all of the action and suspense any war movie merits. But the deeper you go, the sadder it gets. We all understand, at least academically, that war brings out the best and worst in men. What we don't as often consider (though we also probably understand it), is that it brings out the best and worst in every man. What the Locker shows us in its main character is a man who men instinctively wish they were. Tough, committed, capable, and instinctively generous. He's a leader, and he knows it. He doesn't have to spend time proving it, he just leads.

But he's also deeply flawed. He takes on danger not because he has to, but because he wants to. At the very beginning, the words, "war is a drug" are effectively burned into the minds of the audience. The rest of the film illustrates that principle. By the end, it's almost not about the war in Iraq at all. It's about someone we've come to love succumbing to a destructive addiction.

CJ7 and the Reformation of a Blog

You probably didn't notice, but that's OK. I forgive you. I'll point it out to you in a minute.

CJ7 is a good movie. In a spasmodic fit of enthusiasm, I gave it five stars on Netflix directly after finishing it. What I'm saying is that it was good, but maybe not, objectively, five-stars good.

But who's being objective? I certainly never am. So, YEAH. It's five-stars good. And I won't say much about it except that it's from China, and it's touching and funny and ridiculous and stupid in all the right ways.

The short: A father finds what turns out to be an alien artifact and gives it to his son. Said artifact turns into a super-high-tech-weird-futuristic toy dog, which delivers a great performance as an overwhelmingly serviceable plot-device.

The skinny: All of the acting was superb, especially from Dicky, played by the 10-yr-old Jiao Xu, who has a far cooler name than I do. The special effects were as good as they needed to be to keep the film entertaining, and the little alien toy dog was way less annoying than it should have been. And near the end, I cried. Everybody's gonna start to think I only review movies that make me cry well it's NOT TRUE! Remember my review of Transformers 2? Neither do I, but I definitely didn't cry during that film. I wanted to (for entirely different reasons) but I didn't.

Anyway.

The thing you probably didn't notice is that my blog changed. Not dramatically, but definitely. And more so in spirit than in style.

This blog will now focus almost exclusively on the making and watching of movies and TV. Which means it will mostly be reviews, but if there are other film-related things I feel like talking about, I won't hold back.

That doesn't mean that I won't talk about other things every once in a while. I might even do so often, but there will now, and this I promise, always be something about movies (or TV) in my posts.

I'm stepping this blog away from politics, for the most part. And from other miscelaneous, non-film-related (but still usually awesome) junk. Things might change down the road, but for now, I'm attempting an exercise in consistency. I decided that it's time for my blog to grow up and become a describable entity.

...now leaving Neverland...

The Pianist, TRON, JCVD, and...

This post is going to be long and full of many delicious things. Two things are responsible:

1. I forgot to post on Monday (my deepest apologies), but I had stuff to post on Monday, so I'm making up for it.

2. I'm leaving for northern California tomorrow night and won't be back until Tuesday. If I can post, I will, but it's at least as unlikely as it is possible. So this post will hopefully hold you over until next week.

First off, I felt extremely compelled to discuss my recent experience with a very great film. This is what I was primarily going to talk about on Monday: The Pianist. I had this film from Netflix for a few days before I got around to watching it, and I ultimately decided Sunday afternoon was a good spot. See, it's a Holocaust film, and I consider the subject matter somewhat sacred.

If Sundays are for emotional experiences, then it was a good decision. I cried almost all the way through. I'm not the sobbing sort, as I've mentioned before, but I'm sure my eyes weren't totally dry from about ten minutes in to about thirty minutes after.

And here's the thing--cheap sentimentality doesn't work at all for me. What's remarkable about this film is that the deep sadness it invokes is absolutely earned, and absolutely real. A great film will stand you next to its characters and help you live through them vicariously, and it will make sure that those experiences are genuine, realistic, and powerfully meaningful.

I don't want to summarize this film beyond telling you its about a pianist who lived through the Holocaust in Warsaw.

Lately, I've been obsessed with WWII, the Holocaust, and Nazi Germany. The primary impetus for this obsession has been the fact that I'm right in the middle of reading The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, a book which I very much recommend, and which I'll probably talk much more about later.

For now, I'll move on...

...to TRON! As it turns out, there's a new film coming out next year called Tron Legacy. I've heard rumors about this for a while, but yesterday, finally, I watched the preview. Oh man oh man oh man. Seriously, you must watch this trailer, just for the sheer NEWness of what this film is going to be, visually. Very, very slick. I haven't seen the original TRON for years and years, but the film definitely left its indelible mark upon my young mind. And it is exactly the kind that deserves some heavy modernization.

Gosh golly, everyone...TRON! Ha.

Here's one more film review before I move on to the final, mystery topic of this here exhaustive post.

I recently watched JCVD, which is about, you [may or may not have] guessed it! Jean-Claude Van Damme. I saw a trailer for this film maybe a year ago, and I was immediately intrigued. I'm not a huge fan of this B-list action star, but the film was clearly not typical Van Damme.

What it really is: a post-modern story about the man himself, Jean-Claude Van Damme playing Jean Claude Van Damme. And where do we find Msr. Van Damme? Fighting custody battles in court. Knee deep in legal debt. Struggling to find real work in legitimate films.

And...caught up in an amateurish but brutal hostage situation inside of a post office.

The film is funny, scary, and unexpectedly, profoundly moving. By the end, you cannot help but fall in love with the man--in all of his dignity, shame, strength and weakness--as a real person. There is a monologue somewhere about halfway through the film in which our 'hero' describes, in a surprisingly personal way, his life. The man, not the actor, is moved to tears by what he has to say. They are tears of regret, of confusion, of lonliness, and, finally, tears of an overwhelming sense of love and comradery with people and the person who comprises them.

I loved it. I was pretty sure I'd enjoy the film, but I loved it.

**As an aside, I'm not going to talk much about ratings. Some of the films I have reviewed and will review are rated R, and I've spend some time in the past talking about the reasons for such ratings, or the reasons I chose to see the film. From now on, I'll provide links to descriptions, reviews, or trailers for films, and the rating will be apparent, but I won't promise to discuss in any detail the motivation behind those ratings. I believe very strongly that the choice of which movies we should and should not watch is personal and very important. Just because I have chosen to watch a particular film does not mean that I believe everyone should watch it. And there are certainly plenty of films close and respected friends choose to see that I choose to avoid. My only constant and unchanging advice is that you research the films about which you feel at all unsure. If the R rating is a problem for you, that should be your first consideration, and I won't put forth a lot of effort to justify any particular movie. K, end of aside.**

The last item on today's overly long dispatch is mostly a link. The post to which I just linked is an abstract and commentary on an article entitled: Scientists Worry Machines May Outsmart Man.

This article is not a joke. It was published by the New York Times under "Science." For those of you who actively fear a cyborg revolution, well...here's some more fuel.

It's not that I don't think we already have enough to worry about. Obama proves every day that he is more willing and able than most other forces to ruin our lives, and there exist entire nations dominated by people who are passionately convinced that the eradication of America and those who live therein would be a great blessing to the world. Also, there's disease, famine, poverty, hopelessly corrupt governments, and astonishing, endless human stupidity and ignorancce.

In short, we're just about primed to be taken over by computers.

Really, though, read the article and the post. They're very interesting. (All humans must be warned.)

Sixth Month Anticipation

I see most previews before anyone else. All you have to do is watch for them online, but most people aren't nearly as obsessive as I am about it.

When it comes down to it, I'm not sure why I do that. Inevitably, I end up dealing with the pain of anticipation to a much greater degree than most other people. It could easily be considered a form of self-abuse.

Such is life. I'm not going to change any time soon. Instead, I'll try to drag you down with me.

Denzel Washington is wonderful. We all know this. I've either liked or loved pretty much every film in which he's been at all involved.

So how could I not go a little bit nuts when I find out that he's going to be a post-apocolyptic action hero in his next film? In my world, there are few things over which to get more excited. And I hope that your world is at least a little bit like mine.

Here are some facts about the film:

- It is called The Book of Eli.

- It also stars Gary Oldman, who is awesome.

- It was written by Gary Whitta, who apparently has no other writing credits, which is either a very good sign, or a very bad one. It's a good sign if it means that the script was just so good that it didn't matter that he had nothing else in his portfolio. Seriously, his IMDB page has got nothing.

- It's being directed by a pair of brothers--the Hughes--who's only other notable film was From Hell, which received lukewarm ratings.

- You can watch a high-def preview here.

- For those of you too lazy or slow (meaning your Internet connection) to watch it in HD, here's an embedded YouTube trailer:

Reagan on Healthcare

This is a lazy post day. I just wanted to share something I listened to yesterday. It looks like a video, but it isn't. It's just a recording of Ronald Reagan talking about nationalized (socialized) medicine. It's pretty powerful stuff. For some reason, you don't hear politicians talking like this much anymore. Reagan says it strong and says it straight. And he's right. I really recommend listening to the whole thing.

I'll Never Be an Astronaut

Not because I'm unimportant, not a pilot, not athletic, and have no stake in or possibility of entering our or any other space program (though all of those things are true.)

But because we don't go there anymore.

When I was little, space was the great, mysterious beyond. It's where dreams and nightmares both were born. Here's the thing, though--it still is. It's still mysterious and great. It is still, and will always be, the ultimately unconquerable frontier.

Today is the anniversary of the first time we landed on the Moon. It was a big day, though most of us probably didn't recognize the anniversary. I didn't, until a little bit ago.

The fact that so many of us are unaware is proof enough that we have abandoned our extra-terrestrial aspirations. In my estimation, this is one of the primary things that marks a society in decline. We don't have time anymore. We don't have resources. Our goals are more complex and frightening. Nope. We don't have the heart for it. We used to, but we lost it somewhere in the last few decades.

The inspiration for my sad diatribe is an article by Charles Krauthammer called "The Moon We Left Behind." Please read it, and do it in honor of one of our greatest and most noble achievements.

A Day Late, and Still Sexy (The Harry Potter Review)

Not me. I'm only sexy when I'm on time.

I didn't see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince on Tuesday night at midnight. I would have, but the 17 showings in my favorite theater were all sold out.

So I went Wednesday at midnight.

It was good. Not as good as the fifth, but good. I was entertained throughout, and there was more and better humor from start to finish in this one, which was wholly unexpected. Harry Potter humor is only occasionally funny in my experience, but somehow, in the sixth installment, they hit it almost every time.

The acting was, of course, phenomenal. That's due mainly to the cast. Virtually every major British actor has made an appearance in these movies, and it shows. The collection of talent is immense. And each of the "child" actors are improving remarkably. Even Daniel Radcliffe was marginally less annoying this time around, which is saying a lot. As an aside, I don't believe he's an actor that will go very far beyond this franchise. That's my prediction--we'll see what it's worth in five or ten years.

Here's a fascinating addendum: Draco Malfoy has become, in my sophisticated opinion, a more sympathetic, dynamic character than Harry Potter himself (that, on the other hand, isn 't saying much at all). Tom Felton has given the character the very complexity, depth, and inner turmoil that Harry Potter's character frustratingly lacks. I would never want to work with Radcliffe, but if I was in the position to do so, I would cast Tom Felton in significant roles in the future and expect (and get) great things.

All that said, the film is slow. Not unbearably, or unredeemably, but very definitely slow. I'm certain the film could have been thirty minutes shorter and remained virtually unchanged. But this is what I think happened: Half Blood Prince was beautiful. It's at least possible that the filmmakers couldn't bear to cut more out than they did. In fact, you got that feeling. This shot could have been shorter, but look how pretty it is! We can't let go of it and move on quick enough. So the dialog scenes drag. The moments of contemplation stretch. The problem isn't terribly uncommon, but it is a little frustrating. When you start a movie at midnight, you prefer to get home before 3am. And you should never stop to wonder halfway through when it is eventually going to end.

But let me reiterate this point--I did really enjoy the film. Go see the new Harry Potter flick. It's worth it.

Or, if you've seen it already, share your thoughts. [That was a plug for comments]

He's Come to Save the Day

As a rule, I hate JibJab. I'm sorry if this offends anyone, but it seems like the only people who get a kick out of it are those with severely underdeveloped senses of humor.

"Look, it's my face (or my friend's face) doing something I (or my friend) didn't actually do! OMG LOL Random!"

...

But, this is from JibJab--by way of self-promotion--and it's actually very funny. Please keep in mind, creating something this sophisticated is not a service Jib-Jab offers to its typical users.

Activism and Hot Friends

I hope to eventually be largely responsible for devastatingly attractive children.

Daniel and Kristin are two people with whom I played matchmaker some time ago. Their relationship has budded nicely, I think, and they'll both be very uncomfortable that I injected this information into the unpredictably visible medium of the Internet. But so things go. I'm happy about it and decided to say something.

They recently had a bunch of modeling pictures done for free (a photographer-friend wanted some practice), and the results are so hot they're almost a joke. I would link to some examples, but Daniel's busy photoshopping some of his favorites, and hasn't posted any of them online.

So, yeah, anyway. There's that.

AND, I recently discovered a new website called "The People Decide." Check it out. You can either Google it, or click here. The concept of the website is to get people to be more aware of what kinds of things Congress is doing. What bills they're voting on, and how all of the different representatives in each state are voting. The ultimate goal is to eventually establish whether or not the elected officials of the country are actually representing their constituents.

Of course, the only way this site will ever reach its full potential is if an ENORMOUS number of people start to utilize it. There are a good number already, but it's still new, and it looks as though the number of subscribers is still the barest fraction of what it really needs to be. So I heartily, strongly, actively suggest that you visit the site and look around. Sign up. Vote. It's pretty quick, extremely easy, and definitely qualifies as good citizenship.

Most emphatically, I mean that last part. So many of us are at least concerned about the state of the country, the problems we face domestically and internationally, and the bloated and corrupt government. But what can we do? That's always the concluding, despairing question--posed both by the people at the wrong end of my verbose political diatribes, and myself, at the end of the day.

To get informed is an important and necessary start. It's something in place of the typical nothing that we do as modern, lethargic, ignorant, seemingly helpless citizens of this country. But it's not enough. We must be ACTIVE. We've got to vote, obviously, and we've got to be informed enough to do so. But what about the other three hundred and sixty four days out of the year? Do this. Of course there are other ways to get involved, but that website could be one of the simplest, quickest, and most effective ways of becoming politically active.

Clearly, the title of this post vs. it's contents were a little backward, but oh well. If that bothers you a lot, you'll hate me for this--here's something that wasn't even mentioned in the title:

Another plug for my "dumber" blog! You should visit it (Lasers, Bagels, and Other Abstractions), and click on only one of the links. Please trust me, and ONLY CLICK ON ONE OF THE LINKS you find there.

Okgoodbyenow.

After a Break, I Say This

Any and all of you who keep up with this here blog I made (using software that transforms blog-making into a process which would bore a reasonably intelligent toddler) know that I shy away from talking much about my personal life.

But I recently discovered that I'm crazy.

In light of this discovery, I want to share some experiences from the past few days, not because they're important, or exciting...or at all meaningful to anyone who isn't, specifically, me. But because I'm at least a little bit convinced that telling all of my (several) readers about what's going on in Jordan Petersen's life will be fun for me.

Also, I have evidence of me = crazy. Here's the story.

I produced this film called Spit, as most of you know. It's an advanced student short film that is now finished shooting, and is in the process of editing. Anyway, on Wednesday, I, the other producer, and the director went through all of the art for the film to see what should go where, what we wanted to keep, and what should get thrown away.

In a moment of supreme obsessive compulsiveness selflessness, I offered to take a bag full of playing cards (about 20 pounds worth) home and sort them into full decks. I got home a little before 9pm and then got straight to work. Why? Because I was eager. I couldn't wait to get started on this Herculean task of exquisite tedium.

A couple of my friends who I very much love came over to just hang out, goof around, and pretend to do homework while I plowed through about seventy decks of unsorted playing cards.

It was after midnight the first time I paused to check what time it was. That was weird. But it was weirder when it was after two.

And then at about four o'clock in the morning, we all decided to go to Ihop. No, I had not developed multiple personalities disorder by then--my two good friends were still with me. Why? Because they're just cool people. And that's what cool people do.

After a hearty breakfast, I took my devotees home so they could sleep for a several hours before they each had to get up for work in the morning. Then I went home and finished the task to which I had so insanely committed myself. It was after 7am when I finally finished.

Then I saw to the laundry I had started the previous evening, studied my scriptures, made my lunch, and arrived for work on the sixth floor of the BYU library at about 8:30am.

This was yesterday. My faculties were comparable to someone who had been drinking heavily, so I don't remember much about the day. I do know I didn't sleep until 7pm, when I was with one friend waiting for another friend to show up at my apartment. In the middle of a conversation of which I remember nothing, I blacked out for about fifteen minutes and then woke up when friend dos showed up.

Here's what I learned. We've all been duped into sleeping for EIGHT WHOLE HOURS every day! You only need like 15 minutes every thirty or so hours to survive feel GREAT!

Don't worry, I did eventually get to bed around 12:30 and slept for over ten hours. Now it's today and all's back to normal. Well, except for my concern over the mentality that would allow me to work for over seven hours without pausing to sort out over seventy decks of face cards.

17 Again

Everybody's always hatin'.

Yes, I've been made fun of a lot for saying things like, "Wow, Zac Efron turns out to be a really good actor!"

But he is. And 17 Again was a downright entertaining film. The cast was great, the writing was almost never dull, and the story was surprisingly satisfying.

I'll admit that this isn't the kind of movie I normally pay any attention to at all, but, well...I blogged recently about this person that always gives golden recommendations. Here's to another spot-on suggestion.

For a better review, go here.

And for a beautifully awesome video I just posted, go here.

On a parting note, I hope that you take a few seconds to click on the links in my posts. I try to make them pertinent and cool, for the edifying pleasure of all of my readers, so.... Anyway, just a thought.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

AAAAAHHAhahahahahahahaha...!!!

*gasp*

HhhhaahaHAAHAHAHAHhaahahaha

hahaha

HAA...

ha.

I wanted to write a review, I really did, but--pffffaahhahahahahahHAHAHAahahaHAHAHAHAHAahahahaHAHAHAHAhaahaaaaa...

*sigh*

K, just go read this: Roger Ebert's Review.

Knowing

I avoided Knowing because of Rotten Tomatoes. Well, turns out that lovely, useful aggregate of movie reviews isn't always lovely or useful.

Roger Ebert, on the other hand, is much more dependable. Not that I always agree with him, but he's not the fickle masses. He's an extremely intelligent critic--biased, unique, and personal. And, I often do agree with him. About a week ago, he posted a list of movies to which he gave 3 1/2 or 4 star reviews. Can you guess one of the films that received four stars from this particular critic?

His review was downright glowing. So, of course, I reconsidered. Watched it this past Saturday night.

I loved it. There were minor issues with the writing, but nothing too terrible. And there were some plot holes and assumptions that could have been annoying if I'd strained at them. But what dwarfed all of that was how incredibly ambitious this film was. This ambition that so impressed me manifested itself in two ways:

1) The story. This narrative was willing to go places and say things that I don't normally expect filmmakers to have the guts to go. It had BIG things to show, and it didn't pull punches. Any film that tackles the apocalypse, God, faith, and aliens all in the same text deserves at least a modicum of respect.

2) The special effects. This was a gorgeously shot film, and the bangs were sophisticated, thrilling, and moving. I was constantly surprised by where the really explosive effects were placed. It didn't open with some thrilling sequence, and never did the film rely on the bells and whistles of FX to arbitrarily spice up an inherently dull sequence. Nor were the grandest and most overwhelming sequences reserved for the climax, which was shocking. The story was finished before we got to see the stuff that probably took the longest for those industry computers to render--one of the most spectacular special effects sequences I've ever seen was reserved for the denouement. Ambitious and risky. Phew.

The performances were all better-than-necessary. We don't typically expect really profound acting from our crazy sci-fi thriller/disaster movies. But this one was a whole lot more emotionally spot-on than it should have been.

I guess I can best sum up my experience by saying I'm convinced once again that one of the most pleasant ways to receive a film is to go in with low expectations and be proven wrong on almost every point. So go ahead, read some of the reviews that caused Rotten Tomatoes to squeeze out a shameful 14% for this movie. Then go watch it. It's pretty grand.

Home Movies

Last night, I became reacquainted with Home Movies, one of the greatest achievements of Cartoon Network's Adult Swim, which is something I haven't watched for years.

I borrowed the first season from a friend, but here, for your glorious viewing pleasure, is one of my favorite episodes from a later season. If you have twenty minutes, DEFINITELY watch the whole thing.

From an Iranian

What follows is important. I want to make reading the whole thing as easy as possible, so I'm going to paste it all below.

Here, also, are some important links.

- Photos of the protests and riots.

- A Washington Post article about Obama's reaction to the situation in Iran.

- An NY Times article on the frightening possibility of what's going on under the surface.

Now, from Tehran:

I left my home in Tajrish along with my family at 3 p.m. We went down Valiast Street which is the main northern-southern avenue in Tehran and entered the Evin Exp'way which leads to Enghelab Street. We knew that people are supposed to gather in Enghelab Sq. (Revolution Sq.) at 4 and march toward Azadi Sq. (Freedom Sq.). From Gisha Bridge onwards, we saw people walking down. Cars were blowing their horns and people were showing victory sign. We went to Navvab Street and parked our car at the end of the street. Then we took a taxi to bring us back to the Enghelab Street. On our way, near Jomhouri Sq. (Republic Sq.), I saw a group of about 20 militia with long beards and batons on motorbikes. My hand was out of the car window with a little green ribbon (the sign of reformists) around my finger. One of the militia told me to throw that ribbon away. I showed him a finger. All of a sudden, about 15 people attacked me inside the car. They beat me with their batons and wanted to pull me out. My wife and my daughter who were sitting in the back seat cried and hold me tight. I also hold myself tight on the chair. They wanted to shatter the car windows. The driver went out and explained that he is a taxi and we are his passengers and he has no fault. After about 5 minutes,they left. My elbow hurts severely. Then, a young man from their group came and kissed my elbow! I told him: You know, I don't hate you. I am like you with the only difference that I know more and you are ignorant. He apologized and left. We joined the crowd in Enghelab Street.

Read carefully: What I saw today was the most elegant scene I had ever witnessed in my life. The huge number of people were marching hand in hand in full peace. Silence. Silence was everywhere. There was no slogan. No violence. Hands were up in victory sign with green ribbons. People carried placards which read: Silence. Old and young, man and woman of all social groups were marching cheerfully. This was a magnificent show of solidarity. Enghelab Street which is the widest avenue in Tehran was full of people. I was told that the march has begun in Ferdowsi Sq. and the end of the march was now in Imam Hossein Sq. to the further east of Tehran while on the other end people had already gathered in Azadi Sq. The length of this street is about 6 kilometers. The estimate is about 2 million people. On the way, we passed a police department and a militia (Baseej) base. In both places, the doors were closed and we could see fully-armed riot police and militia watching the people from behind the fences. Near Sharif University of Technology where the students had chased away Ahmadinejad a few days ago, Mirhossein Mousavi (the reformist elect president) and Karrubi (the other reformist candidate spoke to people for a few minutes which was received by cries of praise and applause. I felt proud to find myself among such a huge number of passionate people who were showing the most reasonable act of protest. Frankly, I didn't expect such a political maturity from emotional Iranians who easily get excited. My family and I had put stickers on our mouths to represent the suppression. Placards that people carried were different; from poems by the national poet Ahmad Shamlu to light-hearted slogans against Ahmadinejad. Examples include: " To slaughter us/ why did you need to invite us / to such an elegant party" (Poem by Shamlu). " Hello! Hello! 999? / Our votes were stolen" or " The Miracle of the Third Millenium: 2 x 2 = 24 millions" (alluding to the claim by Government that Ahmadinejad obtained 24 million votes) , "Where is my vote?" , " Give me back my vote" and many other. We arrived in Azadi Square where the entire square was full of population. It is said that around 500,000 people can be accommodated in this huge square and it was full. Suddenly we saw smoke from Jenah Freeway and heard the gunshot. People were scared at first but then went forward. I just heard the gunshots but my sister who had been on the scene at that part told me later that she saw 4 militia came out from a house and shot a girl. Then they shot a young boy in his eye and the bullet came out of his ear. She said that 4 people were shot. At least one person dead has been confirmed. People arrested one of the Baseeji militia but the three others ran away when they ran out of bullet. At around 8 we went back on foot. On the way back people were still in the street and were chanting Allah Akbar (God is Great). I was coming home at around 2 a.m. In parkway, I saw about ten buses full of armed riot police parked on the side of the street. Then I saw scattered militia in civil clothes with clubs in hand patroling the empty streets. In Tajrish Square, I saw a very young boy (around 16) with a club who was looking at the cars to see if he can find something to attack. I don't know how and under what teachings can young boys change into militia. I came home. Tomorrow, people will gather again in Valiasr Square for another peaceful march toward the IRIB building which controls all the media and which spreads filthy lies. The day before Yesterday, Ahmadinejad had hold his victory ceremony. Government buses had transported all his supporters from nearby cities. There was full coverage of that ceremony where fruit juice and cake was plenty. A maximum of 100,000 had gathered to hear his speech. These included all the militia and the soldiers and all supporters he could gather by the use of free TV publicity. Today, at least 2 million came only relying on word of mouth while reformists have no newspaper, no radio, no TV. All their internet sites are filtered as well as social networks such as facebook. Text messaging and mobile communication was also cut off during the demonstration. Since yesterday, the Iranian TV was announcing that there is no license for any gathering and riot police will severely punish anybody who may demonstrates. Ahmadinejad called the opposition as a bunch of insignificant dirt who try to make the taste of victory bitter to the nation. He also called the western leaders as a bunch of "filthy homosexuals". All these disgusting remarks was today answered by that largest demonstration ever. Older people compared the demonstration of today with the Ashura Demonstration of 1979 which marks the downfall of the Shah regime and even said that it outnumbered that event. The militia burnt a house themselves to find the excuse to commit violence. People neutralized their tactic to a large degree by their solidarity, their wisdom and their denial to engage in any violent act. I feel sad for the loss of those young girls and boys. It is said that they also killed 3 students last night in their attack at Tehran University residence halls. I heard that a number of professors of Sharif University and AmirKabir University (Tehran Polytechnic) have resigned. Democracy is a long way ahead. I may not be alive to see that day. With eyes full of tear in these early hours of Tuesday 16th June 2009, I glorify the courage and bravery of those martyrs and I hope that their blood will make every one of us more committed to freedom, to democracy and to human rights. Viva Freedom, Viva Democracy, Viva Iran

p.s.: If you find this report of any value, please share it with as many people as possible. Facebook is filtered and internet is very slow in Iran. Please somebody put this on facebook.

These are weighty days. Please pay attention. Please stay aware.

Iran Making History

You may not have heard quite yet. I'm sure you will.

Iran had its elections three days ago, on the 12th. The term "elections," here has an unfair connotation, because instead of letting the democratic process run its course, the sitting government staged a massive farce to keep Ahmadinejad and his crew in power. The Iranians turned out in better numbers than we probably muster here in America to exercise their democratic freedoms--to vote. And then their votes were thrown away.

The sitting government is run by extremists. Their policies are violent, tyrannical, selfish, and disinterested in the welfare of their people. I've spoken out before against Iran, and I made it clear that the problem rests with its leaders. It is now clear that the citizens of that country agree with me.



Thousands upon thousands of people are protesting in the streets. Why? Because they voted against the sitting government. They voted for change, just as we did (thanks to an overwhelmingly effective Obama campaign) several months ago. The difference? We got who we voted for.

This is an extremely important moment in the history of the Middle East. How all of this plays out will set big things in motion, for better or for worse.

Read this article. I don't have the facts or time to adequately describe what has happened this weekend, but it's vital that we all become aware.

A Post about YouTube

I subscribe to a blog that I rarely read [insert gasps of shock here] called Studio Daily. It's often much too technical to be of any real use to me, but some things occasionally slip through that I find fascinating and/or informative.

HERE'S ONE FOR YA:

24 HOURS of video added to YouTube every MINUTE.

I encourage you to read the post to which I linked.

Now, some thoughts.

First of all, I can't accept that more than fifteen seconds, on average, of that material is something ANYONE should or would want to watch. My coworker/friend/fellow film student and I were tossing out possible common tags for all of this bilge that gets saved somewhere in a warehouse full of harddrives.

First one - "cat sleeping"
[A YouTube search yields over 13 thousand results.]

Next - "ball rolling"
[Nearly 32 thousand results]

Here, my dear friends, is one of the top hits:



What does this mean? It means that at least 30 thousand people should probably be beaten to death.

On the Sunset Strip

I recently finished a TV show. No, I didn't finish making a TV show, I finished watching one. The title of this blog is only obscure enough to hide the identity of the show from those who have never heard of it, so here's the big reveal:

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip

It was probably the smartest show I've ever watched. A friend recommended it to me--let me stop there and elaborate.

I take recommendations only occasionally. I, like everyone, have a busy life. I work and play and work and sometimes sleep. I don't like to waste my time reading bad books or watching mediocre (or bad) TV shows, or seeing tasteless films. People recommend stuff to me all the time. Often, I take those recommendations with a sincere grain of salt. I care that people love the things they see, but... Anyway. You get the point.

But I have a friend who consistently recommends good things. Movies and TV, specifically. She speaks, I listen. And so it was that in a totally unrelated conversation, she mentioned this show that was too smart and too inside to stay on the air. She was right. It was so smart it made my head spin. And so inside that I couldn't believe it stayed on the air for as long as it did (by "inside," I mean there were constant entertainment-industry references.)

AND (here's the real surprise) it was meaningful, and resonant, and heart-warming, and incredibly, unbelievably compassionate to both its characters and the audience. It took me about a week to burn through the only 22 episodes of this show there will ever be.

The show is liberal. It has to be--almost every shred of entertainment media these days is. But it was also superbly thoughtful. It represented the issues it tackled fairly, honestly, and thoroughly. There were NO straw men, which is, as I think about it, probably the most remarkable thing I've seen in anything remotely political for...well, I can't remember.

Oh hey, wanna know what the show's about? Short answer: It's 30 Rock, but an hour long, smarter, and more of a drama than a comedy. Don't know what 30 Rock is? Long(er) answer: A show about a show like SNL, but fictional. It's about the writers, producers, and actors in that show, with very little shown from the (fictional) show itself.

So there you go. I can't give a higher recommendation to a TV show. If you watch it, and it ends up being too esoteric, that's fine. You not liking it will in no way diminish my esteem for this incredible televised accomplishment.

Oh Yeah! That Terminator Movie

I realized with sudden horror today that I have completely neglected to post a post-watch review of Terminator Salvation.

Humph.

When a movie gets 25% on Rotten Tomatoes, I necessarily go into it with low expectations. It was hugely disappointing to discover, one week early, that the film was getting such bad reviews. My worst fears, it seemed, were actualizing themselves in the most anti-climactic way.

Still, finding out the film won't be much good before actually going to see it is better than the bitter agony I was sure to sustain without the warning.

Conclusion? Well...I guess it wasn't that bad.

Crap! What was the point? It was supposed to be GREAT. What does it matter if it wasn't "that bad," which, incidentally, is about the language this film evoked from the most positive of its many reviews. What a complete waste.

I gave McG a chance. Sure, the only memorable thing he had directed before this project was Charlie's Angels (and Full Throttle...yep), but give the guy a break, right? I mean, Hollywood is tough stuff. It's hard to get good material as a commercial director.

He even said this to Bale. [I paraphrase] "This is my big break. C'mon, let me prove myself, Christian. I can DO this! Trust me..."

Well, he did. And since Christian Bale trusted him, so did a gaggle of other talented actors and filmmakers. Jonathan Nolan wrote a script that could have been made to sing, I believe, in better hands. But it was in McG's talentless hands that it was given life. And so people say it was poorly written. It wasn't. Sure, the writing could have been better, but it could have been much, MUCH worse. (See: Wolverine)

So how do I know? You can know that a film was directed poorly when the following things are true: The cinematography was beautiful; the cast was enormously talented; the writing was good enough to keep the audience from laughing at the wrong places; there was no shortage of cash (never once you cross that magical $100M mark); the movie still sort of sucked.

The thing that was so wrong with this film was the same thing that was so incredibly, brilliantly right with Star Trek. Pacing. The highs, lows, and emotional tone of each scene need to fit together in a somewhat mystical way to make the whole machine of the film...work. In the new Trek film, the audience was never lost. The emotional and kinetic tone and speed of the film was pretty much perfect all the way through. It worked as the ideal thrill-ride.

But Terminator loses its audience over and over again. The emotional tone almost never seems quite right. Why is he yelling so loud right now? Why do they seem like they're not sure what's going on? Wait, she loves him?

Everything is arbitrary. One scene tacked on right after the other. By the end, I noticed something very tragic: I didn't care at all. That, my good friends, is the kiss of death for any film.

As for McG, I think I've got him pegged. He's the poor man's Michael Bay. As for the magnitude of that insult...well, you either get it or you don't, I suppose.

Anyway, if any of YOU saw it, let me know what you thought.

Dragged Up (Plus, a Blogging Plan)

Two short reviews:

1. Up was grand. The opening sequence was sheer, unmitigated brilliance, and the rest of it was warm, funny, entertaining, and memorable. Pixar is what every other multi-billion dollar production company should be: Endlessly talented, good-hearted, and shamelessly unsatisfied with anything less than greatness. Pixar will fill my children's shelves with great works of cinematic art.

Go see Up. It hasn't been, and still is not fair to think of this film as a "for kids" movie. You know the kind. Movies with talking animals and formulaic, predictable plots. Preachy, stupid movies that are immediately forgettable and probably make the kids to whom they speak dumber with each viewing. Up, in true Pixar form, is a movie "the whole family can enjoy." It's about an old man who attaches tens of thousands of balloons to his house and floats to South America. And it has a fat little boy trying to earn merit badges. There are, in short, no reasons not to see this film.

2. I went to see Drag Me to Hell last night. I'm not a horror movie kind of person. The genre is typically replete with the kind of pornographic violence and gratuitous sex that mature adults (one of which I hope to eventually become) should routinely and gleefully avoid. But then it was rated PG-13, which means that the sex and violence would necessarily be truncated at least to some degree, and then it got over 90% on Rotten Tomatoes. And it starred Alison Lohman (Matchstick Men, Big Fish, White Oleander), who I sort of love very much.

So I saw it. And it was silly. And stupid. And gross. And really, really fun. Of course, it helps to have a delightful, attractive girl clinging to you during the scary parts. But even if I hadn't been fortunate enough to be in that particular circumstance, I'm sure I would have had a good time.

ALRIGHT.

As far as this lil' blog goes, I think I've decided, finally, how I want this thing to run (this may not mean much--I have a bad habit of gross inconsistency when it comes to blogging, but...anyway).

There will be a new post every Monday and Friday for sure. Wednesdays will be up in the air. I may or may not post. But you can put money on Mondays and Fridays (please do not use actual money).

Also, I update Lasers, Bagels, and Other Abstractions fairly regularly, so check that one out when you get a chance. It's fun, I promise. I refuse to set a schedule for it, though, since I think that would fly in the face of its principles (yes, it has its own.)