speech pattern

happy birthday craig ferguson and dennis hopper

2008-05-17T23:18:00.000+01:00

What's funny about this is that back in June 2005, I was in the audience of a taping of "The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson" (2005-present) and Dennis Hopper was the first guest. I wonder if they knew at the time that they have the same birthday. How interesting.

something to look forward to

2008-04-24T11:07:00.002+01:00

I haven't posted in a very long time because I have been tremendously busy with school. Still am, in fact, and I won't be finished with all my schoolwork until I literally graduate in about a month. I cannot believe it's just around the corner. I still feel like a junior since I'd spent my third year with second-year British kids in England.

In general I am overwhelmed, also, with finding a job since the graduate school thing didn't work out. Oh, thanks, but it's OK. I've gotten over it. I'd wanted to actually post about the rush of feelings I had once I learned the news about three weeks ago, but I never got around to it. I've resolved to apply to different kinds of programs--programs--to start in fall 2009. In the meantime, I hope to do something worthwhile, something I am interested in, something that will make my application so much more appealing. I just don't know what that something is.

Anyway, I am really looking forward to graduation because it will mean that I have finished my thesis (it fascinates me but it is oh-so-tedious), completed all the other work I need to do for my two other classes, and it will mean I can relax. I've thought about this some, and I wanted to give a list of fun, leisurely things I want to do, starting as soon as I graduate. Because you know I hate to be idle.

Now, what I need to do:

1.) Go to NYC for a few days with Stephanie. Have fun. Take pictures.

2.) Read books you've wanted to read for a long time. This includes finishing The Story of French. Start with that and then move on to reading more of those transgender studies books. Also, read some art books so you can participate in lively discussions with Dad. Start with The Private Lives of the Impressionists, the book that instigated his quest to learn more about art.

3.) Use your intermediate-to-advanced French workbook to refresh. One of your lifetime goals is to be as fluent as possible in a language. Start here.

4.) Go to the movies! Determine whether or not you want to keep your Netflix account. You don't go through your queue very quickly, and you probably won't even once you finish school because hopefully you will find a job to occupy your time. You could just rent from the library for cheap.

5.) Blog! And create a separate blog that is only about movies. This way, you can show this to people for writing samples of your work about film.

6.) Edit your thesis and turn it into a book with self-publishing software.

7.) Try to meet people. You need friends, man.

I hope I haven't put too much pressure on myself.

my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

2008-03-10T21:16:00.002Z

I have yet to see There Will Be Blood (2007), but the buzz surrounding a certain line Daniel Day-Lewis's character, Daniel Plainview, utters has reached my ears. Actually, I should clarify something first: I have never heard DDL say, "I drink your milkshake. I drink it up." Not even in character. What I mean to say is that I've learned that this might be the next big cinematic catchphrase. 'Tis a shame, really, because it is so much better than "I see dead people" or "I wish I knew how to quit you!" I know this to be true despite the fact that my one reliable source about the film (read: Stephanie) has seen it but she can't even remember when Plainview says it, to whom he says it, and under what kind of conditions he says it. Oh, but that is neither here nor there.

Josh Ozersky's blog entry/rant/editorial/whatever on New York Magazine's website was pretty funny. It really inspired me to come up with a reason why we should repeat the line. Again, with what circumstances is quoting the film not just logical but also appropriate? Well, I think I stumbled upon the answer a few minutes ago.

First, a little background: I was just chatting through Gmail with Stephanie. She's been feeling under the weather for over a week now, so she was telling me about the latest developments with regards to her health and well-being. Anyway, turns out that she needs help applying some ointment and bandages to her first degree burn. (Don't ask, it's too embarrassing.) Lucky for her I will be arriving in L.A. in two days. Then again, she was lucky before, too, because I was already scheduled to help her clean her apartment.

You're wondering where this is headed? I'm getting there.

When she told me I'd be needed to fulfill this second favor, I said, "So I'm the cleaning lady and the cabana boy."

Stephanie then proceeded to, I think, do some variation of a line by Catherine O'Hara in Beetlejuice (1988): "You like it." (I presume this was her intention. Not only does she know I like to repeat the line "He likes it," I think she might also like to say it, too. Again, it's hard to tell because getting inflections across through typing is only ever moderately successful. Depends on the context of the situation.)

Here's the big deal: in response, I said, "You're right. I drink your milkshake. I drink it up." What I meant by this phrase is that Stephanie's treatment of me (making me her cleaning lady and her cabana boy) is, for lack of a better word, exciting. I bask in her glow. I make a toast to honor her dominance over me. Oh, this is not sounding like I want it to.

OK. So if we step back a bit, what I mean to show is that to drink someone's milkshake is to surrender something to them, to concede a point, if you will. For example, it could happen if there is a bet between two people. Person No. 1 says, "How much you wanna bet I can dunk this ball in that bin 100 feet away?" Person No. 2 then doubts No. 1 can achieve such a feat. But what do you know? Person No. 1 is successful. Now is the right time for Person No. 2 to use the phrase. "OK. OK. You did it. I drink your milkshake. I drink it up."

See, "milkshake" signifies essence, talent, idea, whatever. But it's got to belong to someone. It's a good thing when someone drinks your milkshake. I realize it can sound selfish, like someone's literally grabbing your strawberry milkshake out of your hand. Or it can sound menacing, as if the person who says it means to humiliate you even more, rubbing it in your face how bad you are at fill-in-the-blank.

No, no. This phrase must be positive, not even self-deflating or humbling. I doubt it is positive in the film, so let us rewrite the line and transform the film as its consumers. I drink your milkshake, There Will Be Blood. I drink it up.

these "spirits" are even showier!

2008-02-24T19:47:00.001Z

I only saw the second half of the Independent Spirit Awards last night, but I have a few observations I would like to share nonetheless.

1.) When Dustin Hoffman presented the award for Best Feature Film, was he on crack? Not only was he barely coherent, he made some ridiculous comments. For instance, before he got going with announcing the nominees, he stated that he fucked Javier Bardem and that Philip Seymour Hoffman was the product of that union. "Metaphorically speaking, of course." Everyone was howling with laughter, which made me feel so out of the loop. Is that funny, really? Even if it were possible for two men to make a baby, it wouldn't have been possible in this case. I mean, Javier's younger than Philip.

Dusty also said a vaguely anti-Semitic remark. Well, maybe it wasn't so vague. He wanted to point out something on the wall behind him that resembled, for him at least, the Star of David. He said something to the effect of: "That's there to remind us that not only do the Jews run Hollywood, they also run the Independent Spirit Awards. I'm not speaking metaphorically, either." Again, the crowd howled with laughter. Since I already dislike her, it was especially painful for me to watch Cate Blanchett laugh. Anyway, just imagine if a non-Jew had said that. Right?

2.) There was something about the first Robert Altman Award, which is handed out to the director, cast, and casting director of an exemplary ensemble piece, that struck me in a bad way. It was awarded to I'm Not There (2007). I agree that casting and this award is important, but I guess seeing the Blanchett standing behind director Todd Haynes, who was talking about independent film and casting, was a bit weird. I mean, of course big stars can transcend mainstream film and star in independent features (look at Angelina Jolie, for one, in A Mighty Heart [2007]), but the cast is filled with Richard Gere and Batman himself: Christian Bale. Just didn't sit right in my stomach.

3.) Speaking of A Mighty Heart, I absolutely hated how the Master of Ceremonies Rainn "Dwight" Wilson made fun of Michael Winterbottom's name. How lame can he get? (The film was nominated for Best Feature film and lost to the juggernaut called Juno [2007]).

4.) That leads me onto something else: the Ellen Page lovefest. More specifically, the waves of affection going back and forth between Page and director Jason Reitman. At one point, she even said, "I'm Ellen Page and I'm in love with Jason Reitman." I'm waiting to watch the story about their running off into the sunset together emerge in the headlines sometime soon. Keep your eyes pealed.

5.) Oh, and another thing that pissed me off about that Rainn guy. He wrapped up the show and then threatened Philip Seymour Hoffman with violence. He went into the crowd as soon as his "professional" duties were over and done with. Unfortunately for him, this gave Hoffman enough time to defend himself with his chair legs. Hoffman basically pummeled him, and I got to see the distinguished actor's plumber butt. I thought, "What is this? Some old Almost Famous (2000) rivalry?" (Remember, Wilson worked for Rolling Stone, and Hoffman was Lester Bangs of Creem Magazine.)

6.) Finally, Julian Schnabel, in case you did not know, is really weird. Awful acceptance speech, but at least it was entertaining. He won for Best Director, and his former lead actor Javier Bardem presented it to him. They hugged. Julian even thanked him, along with The Diving Bell and the Butterfly's (2007) screenwriter Ronald Harwood and producer Kathleen Kennedy. No thanking of anyone else, especially not Mathieu Amalric. Sorry, but as a fan of his work, I feel cut by all of the gliding over of his contribution to the work. Contrary to popular belief, his role was not all voiceover. There was a fair bit of discomfort, I imagine. Hell, even his voice work had to convey a lot about Jean-Do's sense of humor, personal struggle, depression, imagination, and uplift. And I think even his body--and by that, I mean Mathieu's--did a lot for that.

OK. I am done ranting.

and the nominees might be...

2008-01-21T14:36:00.000Z

Tomorrow morning, they will announce the nominees for the Academy Awards. And we still don't know if the show will go on. At least, we don't know in which form they may happen. Anyway, I thought I would predict the nominees for the "major" categories and choose the likely winners from my hypotheses. Below, I've also included some wishful thinking. (I'd wanted to predict the winners of the Golden Globes, but I only had the craving to post about that 30 minutes prior to the start of the glossy "press conference," which I didn't even watch. I favored Masterpiece Classic's airing of Persuasion [2007] instead. But that is neither here nor there.)

Best Adapted Screenplay:

1.) There Will Be Blood (2007) by Paul Thomas Anderson
2.) The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007) by Ronald Harwood
3.) No Country for Old Men (2007) by Joel and Ethan Coen
4.) Atonement (2007) by Christopher Hampton
5.) Into the Wild (2007) by Sean Penn

The Likely Winner: I think this category is a toss-up, really. I was not exactly impressed when the Brothers Coen won the Globe. I was expecting Atonement to win because it fabulously translated the "un-filmable" Ian McEwan novel to the screen. I think Atonement has a shot in this race despite the previous Old Men win(s). Would, however, like to see The Diving Bell win because it was my favorite film of the year (not that I saw so many movies this year) and, not to mention, it was apparently Harwood's idea that the film be shot largely from Jean-Do's point-of-view, to help the audience empathize with him for having the condition called "locked-in syndrome" following his stroke.

By the way, I debated a bit about who would fill the final slot: American Gangster (2007) or Into the Wild. I chose the latter because supposedly the fact that almost everything in American Gangster was fabricated for dramatic effect and bears almost no resemblance to the story of Frank Lucas, voters will not favor it. This is sort of stupid, because who says that the film story must be close to the actual story? A story is a story. Anyway, I figured Into the Wild would get it over Gangster because don't they love Sean Penn and American bestsellers?

Best Original Screenplay:

1.) Juno (2007) by Diablo Cody
2.) Michael Clayton (2007) by Tony Gilroy
3.) Ratatouille (2007) by Brad Bird
4.) The Savages (2007) by Tamara Jenkins
5.) Lars and the Real Girl (2007) by Nancy Oliver

The Likely Winner: Before I "announce" the Likely Winner, it's interesting to me that women dominate in this category. (Of course this means nothing since these are only my predictions.) Unfortunately, Juno seems like the most likely winner, but perhaps all that buzz will kill it stone dead. Clayton seems likely to be at least nominated because it was a "smart" movie for the thinking "grown-ups" among audiences. Plus it's a political thriller that hearkens back to some of the classics. Having said all this, I would like to see, among these nominees I've selected, Ratatouille win because that film is art all around, anchored by a fantastic script. The script itself elevates the animated film to a much higher level.

By the way, I should say that this category is much more difficult to predict than Adapted Screenplay because it seems like all the darlings of this award season are based on previously published material. This pretty much explains my choices for the fourth and fifth spots.

Best Supporting Actress:

1.) Amy Ryan for Gone Baby Gone (2007)
2.) Cate Blanchett for I'm Not There (2007)
3.) Saoirse Ronan for Atonement
4.) Vanessa Redgrave for Atonement
5.) Tilda Swinton for Michael Clayton

The Likely Winner: It's probably between Numbers 1 and 2. Would be extremely distressful (for me, at least) if Blanchett won because that would mean she has two Oscars for IMPERSONATING HISTORICAL FIGURES. I'm sorry, but in my opinion, that is not acting. Of course she does not always impersonate people, but she would go down in history as nothing but an impressionist. I don't think that it is likely she will win an Oscar for Best Actress ever, really. There, I said it. (Can you tell I am not exactly a fan of hers, either? I admit to some extreme bias.) I think perhaps both Ronan and Redgrave will be nominated. Choosing Redgrave, you may be thinking, is ridiculous, but Judi Dench won for what? 13 minutes of screen time in Shakespeare in Love (1998)? It's entirely possible. Plus, don't they love nominating the old and the ridiculously young? I don't have a personal choice to win. I'd be happy with anyone but Blanchett.

Best Supporting Actor:

1.) Javier Bardem for No Country for Old Men
2.) Tom Wilkinson for Michael Clayton
3.) Casey Affleck for The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)
4.) Hal Holbrook for Into the Wild
5.) Philip Seymour Hoffman for Charlie Wilson's War (2007)

The Likely Winner: Do I even need to say this? I bet it will be Javier. He's one of my favorite actors, and even though it's a "supporting role," it's definitely a good, meaty one to win for. In fact, I don't think there's a leading role in this film. It's very much an ensemble piece, which is why none are nominated for leading roles. His is possibly the biggest and the most important. It's practically because of Anton that everything else takes place.

Also, I want to add that this category is tough to pin down because I think Paul Dano could easily get nominated for his work in There Will Be Blood, but I don't know who he would knock off if he got nominated: Affleck, Wilkinson, Holbrook, or Hoffman (who will be nominated, I think, because he apparently stole the movie from Hanks).

Best Actress:

1.) Julie Christie for Away From Her (2007)
2.) Marion Cotillard for La Vie en rose (2007)
3.) Ellen Page for Juno
4.) Angelina Jolie for A Mighty Heart (2007)
5.) Keira Knightley for Atonement

The Likely Winner: Between Numbers 1 and 2, but I think the gong will go to Christie. That is, if she's actually nominated. (Ha!) I listed this set from the actress most likely to win to the actress least likely. Knightley is the dark horse in this race because I do not think her role was meaty enough to be classified as a leading role, but it was definitely meatier than a supporting one. In other words, Atonement is very much James McAvoy's film. Angelina Jolie will get the nomination, I think, over Blanchett's reprisal of Elizabeth I simply because Blanchett merely yelled out of frustration and modeled fancy sixteenth century dresses. Jolie at least sank into her role, taking it very seriously, and I think it paid off. Whatever. It doesn't matter because Christie will win.

Best Actor:

1.) Daniel Day-Lewis for There Will Be Blood
2.) George Clooney for Michael Clayton
3.) James McAvoy for Atonement
4.) Viggo Mortensen for Eastern Promises (2007)
5.) Emile Hirsch for Into the Wild

The Likely Winner: Day-Lewis.

Best Director:

1.) Joel and Ethan Coen for No Country for Old Men
2.) Julian Schnabel for The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
3.) Joe Wright for Atonement
4.) Sean Penn for Into the Wild
5.) Paul Thomas Anderson for There Will Be Blood

The Likely Winner: I think it's between Numbers 1 and 2, but maybe even Number 3 can edge his way in there. He should be able to because Atonement oozes in his style. Would prefer it if Wright or Schnabel won, honestly. Then again, I think it would be cool if Brad Bird were nominated for Ratatouille. Again, this nomination would demonstrate that some animated films are capable of rising above that "animated" stigma.

Best Picture:

1.) No Country for Old Men
2.) Atonement
3.) There Will Be Blood
4.) Michael Clayton
5.) The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

The Likely Winner: I've decided against predicting the winner among these five simply because I don't want to get my hopes up. And I don't even know which hopes I should be concerned about. I would love to see The Diving Bell win, but the truth is it's probably the dark horse among them. Yes, its recent nomination over at the Producers Guild of America Awards helps it. Since it cannot be nominated for Best Foreign Language Film (and France's pick Persepolis [2007] didn't even make the shortlist), this is its best shot.

Fingers crossed, yeah.

a change about me

2008-01-17T14:55:00.000Z

I'm thinking I should change the description of myself that lies just over to the right. I've been home from England for eight months. I'm not exactly experiencing counter shock anymore, but I am feeling more and more nostalgia for the life I led in Lancaster. Mainly the independence I reveled in. All those times I went to the movies by myself. I miss that kind of mobility. The enormous amounts of free time that generally bored me. I now see them as liberating. And the good, cheap food.

Anyway, I don't know what else to say about myself. "The musings, observations, and adventures of a cultural critic" is already taken. I'm not sure, so I am soliciting suggestions. Keep an eye out.

the subversion of an institution

2008-01-17T14:45:00.000Z

The story I have to tell that justifies this post isn't easy. And I'm not sure it even makes sense. I'm looking down at the blue post-it on my desk that serves as a note-to-self: "post about new Secretary discovery." I wrote that nights ago, after I had already gotten in bed to go to sleep. So, I had already been lying in bed for at least a couple of minutes when this "new" "discovery" about Secretary (2002) hit me. It's very strange, since I haven't seen the film in a long while. I really cannot explain why I was thinking about Secretary at that moment, whenever it was.

But I do remember what I meant by "new Secretary discovery." After all, in parentheses, I scribbled a reminder of what that "discovery" is: "perversion of marriage." But I am getting too ahead of myself. And if you don't want the film to be spoiled for you if you haven't yet seen it, please find something else to read. Spoilers lie below.

Secretary is the story of Lee Holloway, a young woman who has just been released from a mental institution. She mutilates herself for autoerotic pleasure, and pretty much everyone, especially her family, misunderstands her: they think she's suicidal. Anyway, Lee gets a job as the newest in a long line of unceremoniously fired secretaries for the eccentric lawyer E. Edward Grey. To cut a long story short, their already sexually tense relationship eventually develops so that they enjoy a sadomasochistic one during regular business hours. Lee wants more. He freezes up, fires her, but she is still devoted to him, convinced that she has found some sort of soul mate, someone who understands her, etc. etc. It's an unconventional love story. But in the end, they marry.

For the longest time, I absolutely hated this ending. For the record, most of the time I hate it in films whenever the story ends with a wedding. In these cases, the wedding/marriage is completely unnecessary. Apparently, films end with this kind of event as a way to show to the audience that the love between the characters is legitimate and long-lasting. That's a pretty stupid reason, isn't it? Considering the divorce rate in this country is almost 50 percent, if it isn't already 50 percent.

Anyway, I especially hated the capping of the story with the marriage of Lee and Edward. By all accounts, they're perverted (but toward the end, her family and friends attempt to understand her desire for her former boss). Why do they want to conform to heteronormativity all of a sudden? I just didn't understand why.

And then it hit me, a couple of nights ago. This is probably really obvious to most of you, but it took me so long to understand that their union perverts the institution of marriage. And it all begins with Lee's wedding dress.

Right before the lovers are reunited, Lee has accepted the marriage proposal of her boyfriend, Peter. Simply because she has no idea what to do with herself. Trying on her soon-to-be mother-in-law's wedding dress, Lee realizes she doesn't want Peter, that she wants Edward. She rushes over to Edward's office, passing by the new secretary. In short, she plops herself down behind his desk, and at his request, doesn't lift her hands from the surface until he returns (days later!). A media circus ensues, and Lee reluctantly receives visitors.

Now, about that perversion of marriage: Since Lee doesn't get up, she pees in the dress. Take that, sanctity of marriage! The scene that follows Edward's return further subverts marriage. He carries her over the marital threshold to the loft upstairs, which resembles the Garden of Eden... if Martha Stewart had designed it. She's wearing a wedding dress, but this is not their wedding night. And the Garden of Eden motif recalls the notion of Original Sin, which they ignore. As we viewers have already witnessed, neither Lee nor Edward are prudes, so it is not a shock that they have pre-marital sex.

But it doesn't end here. Because when they finally do get married, they wipe out the religious connotations, electing to be married by a Justice of the Peace. But I should say this is all related through Lee's voiceover. We do not see the ceremony itself. In this way, the filmmakers further subvert the institution of marriage, but also the institution that cinematic romances must end with a wedding because we do not see it. Moreover, Lee is decked out in something that resembles a wedding dress in every way, except for the fact that its color is black. You'd think she were marrying Dracula or Beetlejuice. Not only that, the scene in which we glimpse the dress features Edward and Lee fucking, her wrists tied around the trunk of a tree. No threshold here, just good, dark, sadomasochistic love.

Following this, Lee talks about their marital bliss. They're "just like any other couple you'd see." Unfortunately, the independence Lee enjoyed with a job does not continue, for as Edward rolls out of the driveway, off to work, she stays home. We assume she eagerly anticipates his return. After all, she has dropped a dead cockroach on their immaculate bed. Edward's going to come home and spank her.

Yeah, so a couple of nights ago, I realized that Secretary makes fun of the romantic comedy/drama's formulaic ending: that the characters should not only fall in love and remain together as a couple, they should also get married. While Secretary conforms to the model, I think it says a lot about the formula itself. The film points out how there can be a happily ever after for sadist and the masochist. (See The Piano Teacher [2001] for a comparison.) However, having said all this, I still lament that Lee does not exactly maintain her complete feminist figure status. I wish she didn't become a housewife, really.

By the way, there was actually a second discovery that I made about Secretary. It made me think about all those films that are named for a character's profession. Other films of this ilk are: Waitress (2007), Hitman (2007), Actrices (2007), and Rock Star (2001). Closely related are those films who fit the category, but have a definite article to accompany them. They include: Le Valet (2006), Il Postino (1994), The Piano Teacher/La Pianiste, and The Pianist (2002). Can you think of any others?

germans plotted to assassinate hitler? really?!

2007-12-25T21:05:00.000Z

I'm bored tonight. So I keep reloading the main page of IMDb. And then it occurs to me, as I glance over the screen to see if there is anything worth checking out, that I have never seen a trailer for Valkyrie (2008). You can guess what happens next.

I really had no preconceived notions going in. I mean, I remember the big hoopla they made about attempting to score access to some bases there for filming purposes. Mr. Cruise's "faith" kept the doors locked for quite a while. A ridiculous reason, if you ask me, but they are right. He is nuts. But so are many other people. And that is neither here nor there.

I must admit I was a bit surprised that everyone in the film speaks with his own accent (there is what, one woman?). This means Cruise stars as the German Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg (who knew he could play the ethnic card?!) with his own American accent. And all the Englishmen who round out his posse--you know, the other Germans who are plotting to kill Hitler during WWII--sound, well, English. This reminds me of the made-for-HBO film Conspiracy (2001) with Kenneth Branagh (who's also in Valkyrie) and Stanley Tucci. They were Germans with English and American accents, respectively. I should note, however, that some Germans do feature in the cast: Thomas Kretschmann and some lesser known stars (I don't even know who they are).

I know this makes me sound like some sort of modernist. But it's not as if the film is intentionally postmodern. Then maybe I would be more forgiving. It's also offensive because it is raping history. It's not as if I think this is a story only Germans should tell. Rather, I think that an attempt to be realistic would not only help the audience suspend their disbelief that Cruise, Branagh, my Bill Nighy, Terrence Stamp, and Eddie Izzard are the German masterminds behind this failed coup, it would also ground the history in its place. In other words, how is the audience supposed to appreciate what a select group of Nazis did to challenge their leader, the man who forever will be remembered as evil in the human form, if the coterie doesn't come off as German? Right now, with this film, they just come off as Cruise and his English group of friends playing at being heroic. Why is that story worth telling?

And another thing: I think having the actors maintain their own accents implicitly reinforces the Allied Powers' dominance in determining what Stephanie jokingly called "the mythology of Hitler." There are a lot of mediated representations of Hitler (and by extension, the Holocaust and in some cases, WWII), and they can all be collected in an archive. I would say that the story about him is always the same, with the exceptions of Max (2002), which depicted Hitler as a young artist, and Downfall (2004). Downfall is the most significant because not only does it try to humanize Hitler during his last days, it is also a German film--by a German director, in German, with German-speaking actors. (Bruno Ganz is Swiss-German.)

By eliding over German history in order to appeal to American audiences who want the film to be more action movie than historical thinkpiece, Valkyrie reclaims "Hitler" as belonging to an Allied history. For so long the Allies have had a grip on representations of WWII, the Holocaust (excepting Life is Beautiful [1998], I guess), and Hitler. For most of these films, Hitler--and by extension, his Axis "friends"--exist only to get beaten by the Allies, who have a monopoly, I think, on how he is remembered. Don't get me wrong. I am not suggesting that we reevaluate Hitler in order to make him sympathetic in order to induce empathy for him. I just wanted to point out how the Grand Narrative of WWII and Hitler is maintained by the Allies, who use him only to make themselves look good. Even when it's not their story, as is the case with Valkyrie.

happy birthday bill nighy

2007-12-12T22:35:00.000Z

I feel like a right shit. I mean, I knew it was Bill's birthday (he's just 11 days older than my dad), but I had forgotten it's also Tom Wilkinson's birthday. Oh well. Happy birthday to Tom, too.

I knew this day was coming, that I needed to have a bit of something prepared. I cannot let the final third of my triumvirate of favorite people to watch go without having a proper birthday post. Right?

Why is Bill fun to watch? Mostly because he's just funny. In all senses of the word. He's self-deprecating. Just look at him all awkward-like on any red carpet or in any photo shoot. He's funny-looking, not afraid to look ridiculous. He snorts for fuck's sake! It might as well be his trademark, as much as his lanky figure is, or his pursed lips, mumbling, or stuttering are. I mean, no matter the role, he does it all. Well, I guess except in some extreme cases. For instance, I doubt he mumbled, stuttered, or frowned nervously in The Constant Gardener (2005). Could be wrong, though.

He's also got an underestimated versatility as an actor. He can be a vindictive prick, as is evidenced by The Constant Gardener. He can be different kind of bad guy, like Davy Jones in the last two Pirates of the Caribbean installments, though I must say his Scottish accent seems inconsistent at some points. I've never seen them, but isn't he also a baddie vampire in the Underworld movies? (I try to forget he was ever attached to them.) And he's been a rock legend a couple of times. Compare his turns as Ray the insecure lead singer trying to recapture his youth in Still Crazy (1998) with his role as the candid and confidently sexy has-been Billy Mack in Love Actually (2003).

Ray is still one of my favorite characters of his, as is Lawrence in The Girl in the Cafe (2005). His performance erases the heavy-handedness of the message and the slowness of the pacing. And then there's his turn as James Mortmain in I Capture the Castle (2003). As the writer-patriarch who hasn't been able to provide for his family in years, he's growing more and more distant from them, and he's mad. But his gesturing is funny.

Oh! And he just makes you smile in Shaun of the Dead (2004) as the eponymous character's STEPdad Philip. "You've got red on you." He also delivers one of the best lines in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005): "Slartibartfast." It's his character's name, and I don't think anyone else could have played that part because no one could make a ridiculous, extraterrestrial name sound any funnier than Bill can. The shame he has for having such a name comes off so well because Bill is sheepish, embarrassed. He plays it like he has most of his other awkward, comedic roles. Which makes me wonder: is he at all like that in "real life"? Ah, but that is neither here nor there.

Speaking of embarrassment, I am going to admit to something absolutely goofy. I play a sort of game with Bill's name. I wait for someone, usually my sister, to say "Nighty night!" just before we part on the phone. Then I yelp, with a very high pitched voice, "Bill Nighy!" It just works. I mean for it to be cute, but I realize now that I'm just stupid. And nuts.

Anyway, by now hopefully it is clear why I think Bill is fun to watch. He is so interesting because he is a character actor, an anti-hero. And while he may choose some roles that I just have to pretend don't exist (Underworld, really? How expensive is your rent?), he can always make them memorable. He stands apart from the rest because he is a bit like a chameleon, but there's always something there that makes me see it's Bill Nighy. Even when he's CGI.

happy birthday mads mikkelsen

2007-11-22T23:19:00.000Z

I'm not even prepared to write about you just yet. Happy birthday, though.

cinematically grounded

2007-11-19T18:11:00.000Z

I watched Paris, je t'aime (2006) last night and loved it. And today I read in the Guardian critics' opinions about how major world cities have representationally "fared" on film. It's by no means an exhaustive collection of cities and films. In any case, together the film and the article have made me think about what sort of director I would be.

If you remember, I have always dreamt of being a filmmaker. And one of the biggest reasons for this, besides my passionate cinephilia, is what I call "my cinematical mind." Essentially speaking, I think of my life as a movie, and my glasses as the frame of a camera. I have an idea of what I would be like as a filmmaker. In the very least, I would want to make movies I would enjoy watching. But I think cinephilia--whether in the form of postmodern cineliteracy or through the narrative a la Cinema Paradiso (1988)--would figure prominently, and this is important because I also tend to think spatially, in terms of cultural production and consumption. That is why the Guardian article appealed to me so much, getting critics' opinions about how cities have been (mis)represented in film. Paris, je t'aime, which was not mentioned at all, is about space and cinephilia.

So the Guardian article made me think about what kind of director I would be, what geographical location or region I might be associated with. And since my life is a movie and I have spent much of the time "filming" this movie in suburban Maryland, I thought, "Clearly that is my cinematic place!" But it's not just suburban Maryland. Never mind the fact that I do have freedom as an artist to represent places and things that are not natural to my life. In other words, I could make a film in or about New York, couldn't I? It just wouldn't be as good as a Woody Allen picture, if you ask me.

My point of view as a director based in suburban Maryland, close to D.C., would be about this relationship between the suburbs and the capital. I don't know for sure if the discrepancy between the places is totally unique, completely unlike other major cities relationships to their suburbs. I find there is a dearth of films about D.C. Sure, the ones about the government may take place here but they're not filmed here. Capturing aerial shots of the National Mall may establish the scene, but it is a trite one, one that keeps non-Washingtonians from seeing D.C. apart from the monuments and "official" landmarks of national memory and history. Only two films "take place" in D.C. and go beyond this: Broadcast News (1987) and Thank You For Smoking (2005). I hesitate to call the latter a film about D.C. because it's not, and it's not really grounded here no matter how many shots of the Metro and government buildings it features.

I suppose my enthusiasm for this idea of myself as a potential suburban Maryland director comes from my recent dependence on the Metrobus system. For 21 years I'd never ridden the public bus, but now I have--and a lot. I have a deeper appreciation for those who ride it and drive it every day. But also being out of control of where and when and how often the bus stops ultimately exposes to me just how wide a space the length, for instance, of Georgia Avenue, is.

More than this though, I imagine that the frustration I feel (along with others) about how inconveniently located the Metro is from my house would figure prominently in my film(s). I mean, it already does in my life. There is this pull from the suburbs, this idea that the city is the place to find culture (museums, cinemas, concert venues, ethnic restaurants, etc.). My version of "disaffected youth" doesn't include drugs and violence; it's about wanting to have an urban experience.

And let's face it, we need someone to make films about what life is "like" just outside the capital of the world's only superpower (I hate to say it). The site needs to be demystified. A film needs to show that despite having the smartest population or whatever (San Francisco comes in second), D.C.'s majority population is of racial minorities and/or of the lower class(es). Immigrants punctuate this, too. I don't claim I can make this film because I don't know what that "life" is like, but even the acknowledgment of it would be something.

Then I think more broadly about Maryland directors. The two most famous Maryland directors are John Waters and Barry Levinson. (Can you name any other Maryland directors, period?) But their focus is on Baltimore, glimpsing it from different angles. Waters is informed by the working class "freaks" (I don't really mean they are, but he is interested in the grotesque), and Levinson is nostalgic for growing up in the 1950s. My point of view, of course, is completely different. And it is about place, too.

Now back to that Guardian article. I'm a bit disappointed that they did not mention Paris, je t'aime. Having been to Paris and seen some of the places depicted, I can't say I recognized everything. That's the fiction, the romance. But the writer-directors did consciously think about how their stories would fit into the arrondissements. Christopher Doyle's "Porte de Choisy" seemed the most grounded in its place, depicting the Chinese enclave while also staying true to his vision (as a cinematographer, he's worked with many an Asian auteur). But it's also the most outlandish, the one most like a music video, where the visuals and sounds are the feature, not so much the narrative.

The Brothers Coen's "Tuileries," while set entirely in the subway as if to position the subjects and audience in an underworld, is about stereotypes, and does nothing to challenge them. A tourist who ne comprend pas French, Steve Buscemi gets sucked into the idea that modern young romance is sexist, contradictory, confusing, and thus can be used against the unassuming when a young dude threatens violence and his girlfriend's response is to kiss Buscemi, only to let her dude beat up Buscemi. And then she leaves with her dude. See how easily the Coen sensibility can be transported to the Paris Metro? How it can be translated into French? See how cinematic Paris is as a stage?

Paris, je t'aime is about "Paris." While some people may think the film strives to represent "real life" in Paris through the eyes of a collection of internationally-renowned directors, it's not about real life. It's about romance, and no place personifies romance better than Paris.

So, what would my short be, since I am a suburban Maryland filmmaker (among other kinds of filmmaker!)? Maybe my section would try to trace the historical connection between Paris and D.C. Not just through urban planning, but maybe it could focus on L'Enfant. Anyway, I'm not quite sure what it would be, but all I can say is, "Paris, je t'aime."

in defense of cavemen

2007-11-16T20:59:00.000Z

I'm just going to come right out and say it: I love "Cavemen" (2007-present). I think it is one of the smartest shows on TV right now, a funny and engaging satire.

The show follows three cavemen roommates: Joel, the practical one with a homo sapien girlfriend and a job at an IKEA-like store; Andy, Joel's younger, impressionable brother; and Nick, a sarcastic grad student who's a bit of a separatist. Admittedly, Nick can be annoying, but he's the critical and cynical one of the group. Though he's sometimes wrong about other people, without his insights, you'd think cavemen really were stupid. He is, after all, the one who has to remind the others everything's about race, and without him it'd look like they never think about how they are treated in the media and in person-to-person interactions.

Now, about that controversy: I understand that the critics, who universally panned the show, reviewed a pilot that was not the same one that the general public saw when it premiered on October 2. I understand the makers, in response to the poor reception of the pilot, eliminated the racist jokes that implied the cavemen have experienced a history very much akin to that of African Americans. It didn't help that the original pilot set the scene in Atlanta. Now they're in sunny, Conservative-ladden San Diego. It's a good move, I think, though it sometimes feels more like LA than SD.

The critics didn't like this new refashioned show, from what I can tell, and no one I know besides my sister watches it. And I think the main reason why we like it is because it sophisticatedly engages in race studies, something we've explored due to being American Studies majors at university.

The four most recent episodes demonstrate this point best:

In "The Cavewoman," Nick dates an aggressive cavewoman called Heather who works in a frozen yogurt shop that resembles LA's Pinkberry chain. (Ah, but that is neither here nor there.) This episode is about masculinity caveman-style. Besides the fact that Heather is an utter bitch to everyone and completely dominates Nick, forcing him to put off breaking up with her as long as possible he's so scared, Heather makes the remaining two thirds of the trio feel less like (cave)men. She grills Joel on dating a homo sapien (something Nick does all the time), and she humiliates Andy for not calling her girlfriend for a date. Heather is the first cavewoman to be glimpsed in the show, appearing only in the third installment, and she stands in as a funny contrast to the cavemen, though presumably not all cavewomen are like Heather!

"The Mascot" is far more topical, as it relates to Nick's stint as a substitute teacher at a high school whose mascot is, you guessed it, a caveman. When he goes to the school's administration to explain why this is wrong and politically incorrect, he's met with, "Oh, yes, I know exactly what you mean." But the principal doesn't even care. In the end, Nick fights the oversized mascot, and in the process perpetuates the inaccurate stereotype by beating the guy with a (plush) log. Such a premise for this episode is meant to show how images of a (minority) group of people, accepted by the larger society, are at once challenged and reinforced by the minority group in question. What a vicious circle.

My favorite episode so far has been "The Shaver," which recalls narratives of racial passing (see either version of Imitation of Life [1934, 1959] for more info). While Joel becomes more and more under the influence of a crackpot motivational speaker, Nick and Andy seek to expose the crackpot as a hypocritical caveman because he has a strange all-over body stubble and protruding brow. Of course it all explodes at the end. The guy denies it and is caught saying something racist. He's a self-hating caveman! Plus, the trio's love of John Tesh, apparently the most famous shaver, and their willingness to forgive him for trying to pass as a homo sapien is just hilarious! "You really think they could let a caveman on TV?" Nick rhetorically asks Andy.

This past week's "Rock Vote" was about the guys trying to find an ideal candidate, the politician who will best represent them in the state assembly. Turns out Joel's ideal candidate was just using them to get votes from other cavemen. And Nick's candidate--a caveman himself--was a total wacko. Ah, but it all gets resolved in the end when they all vote for Witherspoon, who until the end was never considered by any of them. For Joel and Nick it's about their crush on Reese, and for Andy, who for so long followed in Joel and Nick's footsteps to find someone to vote for, it's because he knows Witherspoon has the best ideas for all people in San Diego.

I've heard the criticism that they do not look enough like cavemen. They aren't hairy enough, apparently. I think this is easy to write off because they've been around for thousands of years. Surely if they existed today they'd have adapted like the rest of us. They don't need such thick fur nowadays. Others have complained that the show is hard to watch simply because they're ugly and difficult to even look at. I disagree, but I must admit, however, that I wish they'd wash their hair once and awhile.

I really haven't done the show justice. It's far more nuanced. And I think the reason why the critics detested this one (what with the Chicago Trib going so far as to call "Cavemen" one of the 25 worst TV shows ever and all), is because they are not trained cultural critics. But then again, watching a TV show and recognizing the racial discrimination many people in contemporary society have historically faced isn't hard. It's so easy a caveman does it all the time.

american psycho nightmare

2007-11-16T20:08:00.000Z

This past week was very hectic. Chaotic even because having Stephanie here sent my routine into a sort of tailspin. See, the weekends are reserved for schoolwork. I don't have any other time during the week where I can get much work done. I prefer to get each thing done all at once, or at least as much as possible in one sitting.

In any case, I had a paper due Thursday for my race and nation in 20th century cinema class. I had written the better part of it on Saturday, and I sat down on Wednesday afternoon to rewrite it. (I'd read the draft before and hated it.) But I'm getting ahead of myself. It might help to explain what the paper is about.

Feeling uninspired by the films we've seen for the class, I chose to write about American Psycho (2000). And let me tell you I really resent that almost everyone I've talked to about the film with regards to the assignment did not think I could write about it, that race was not obvious. I had to tell them each time it was about whiteness. Patrick Bateman the Wall Street yuppie/serial killer has what I have vaguely called "a particular brand of whiteness," which is tied to his job, gender, sexuality, and conformity to yuppie culture. Through him, the point of my paper was to argue that the film (and Bret Easton Ellis's book on which the film is based) claim that capitalism is evil. His materialism has driven him mad; the only thing that fulfills him is his satiating his "nightly bloodlust." Just when you thought he was an oppressive bastard because of his job, he goes and KILLS people. The fucker.

Anyway, I rewrote the paper. Almost pulled an all-nighter, working till 3.15 am. (My friend tells me that it ain't an all-nighter till at least 5 am.) All night, I tossed and turned, thinking the paper was shit. I couldn't turn my mind off; I kept thinking of the teeniest, tiniest details to add but decided not to alter the paper in the morning, thinking such minutiae wouldn't help much. To make a long story short, I have been unable to stop thinking about this paper and its flaws.

I was so depressed I took a two-hour nap today after just being up for about two hours. During that nap, I realized the bit that would have--perhaps--greatly improved my argument. And it was something I had in my original draft: at the end of the film, after Bateman has realized that his identity as a serial killer is not going to be revealed (and probably never will be), then-President Ronald Reagan is on the TV, defending himself amidst the Iran-Contra Affair. If I had mentioned this in my paper, I could have linked the Reagan Administration's murderous hypocrisy. (The scandal revolved around the U.S. selling arms to enemy Iran and then using the profits to fund the Sandinistas in Nicaragua.) Bateman's conformity to what is expected of him as a rich, white, male yuppie and all-American boy and his secret homicidal crimes sort of mirror the Scandal. If only I had mentioned this in my paper; then surely I'd get more points for discussing the historical contexts of the film. Damnit.

By the way, thinking and writing about the film and considering the book throughout this process frightened me a bit when I went to bed Wednesday night in the wee hours of the morning. I haven't scared myself in a long while. The last time I really worked myself up to a fright was thinking about an old and decrepit Howard Hughes.

wish you were (t)here already

2007-11-04T17:57:00.000Z

Why does Netflix think I am going to hate Blame It On Fidel (2006)? It seems really cute!

I just added it to the top of my queue (it's getting released Tuesday) so that while Stephanie is here, we can watch it together. She is currently without Netflix, what with all her cross-country flying and all within the past couple of weeks. She actually requested this film, so I'm giving it to her. And I have to watch Falling Down (1993) for class. The third film we're getting, unless she says anything in a post-it, is A Good Year (2006). Thought she'd like it since she's such a romantic comedy nut and a sucker for anything that takes place in France.

I'm a member of the latter group myself.

happy birthday mathieu amalric

2007-10-25T23:51:00.000+01:00

Jesus. You'd think all I do is wish people happy birthday. To be fair, there isn't a day that goes by that isn't the birthday of someone. It just so happens that a lot of the people I want to wish a happy birthday are born round the same time of the year. But that really is neither here nor there.

Now, if you remember, Mathieu is someone I love to watch. He's not in my triumvirate, but he's pretty damn close. I mean, maybe it should be a club of four, a gang of four, not one of the big three.

Now, like all the rest, before I tell you why I love watching Mathieu, let me give a little historical context. I think the first film I saw him in was André Téchiné's Alice et Martin (1998). He played Benjamin, the gay actor roommate to Juliette Binoche's musician Alice. He's also the half-brother to Martin, the emotionally unstable model who falls in love with Alice. This relationship is more complicated than it sounds because Benjamin is jealous of Martin's relationship with Alice. Suddenly she shares an emotional intimacy that Benjamin was previously only privy to. Beyond this, Mathieu, in his intensity and sense of humor as an actor, just steals the fuckin' show.

Now, I might have seen him in something else before Alice et Martin. Though I doubt it. Mathieu has such a presence that Alice et Martin, which I came upon by accident YEARS ago on Cinemax in the wee hours of the morning, is so ingrained in my memory. It's damn near impossible to get a hold of a copy, and I want to see it again really badly. (Can you say desperate?)

That's just it: Mathieu's intensity and sense of humor. That's what makes him extremely watchable. When I say "intensity," I don't mean it in a De Niro or Day-Lewis sort of way. What I mean is that Mathieu is very expressive in terms of gestures. He's often playing a neurotic, too. I identify with this. I once thought that if Woody Allen did a movie in France with French actors (possibly in French?), Allen should cast Mathieu as his surrogate in much the same way Kenneth Branagh and Will Ferrell have played convincing Woody Allens.

The thing is, in most of his performances, you can't easily separate his intense expressiveness and sense of humor, which is sarcastic and sometimes ironic. I know what you're thinking: it's the writing. Hell, it could even be the direction, but to say this would completely elide the significance of the performance, of the performer. Sorry, but what is written on the page--whether it's the directions for expressiveness or the sarcastic tone--are nothing without the actor as the transmitter of these ideas. In other words, Mathieu personifies a wide variety of characteristics in a way that is singularly his. It's hard to describe, but you know what to expect when you pop in a film of his, and then he still manages to surprise you because of his versatility and obvious intelligence. Nothing is easy or simple if Mathieu is playing in the film. I really mean that.

Recommended viewing: Kings and Queen (2004). A tour-de-force. He makes this otherwise overly melodramatic and somewhat boring film fascinating. Because you can't look away when he is on-screen. He also might be the best thing about Munich (2005) other than bad actor Eric Bana's sexiness. The ambiguity of his supporting character is so textured that Louis could have a film all to himself. Also, the single best exchange (perhaps scene) in Marie Antoinette (2006) involves Mathieu. He scares King Louis XVI, saying he'd love to pop Marie's cherry since the king ain't doing it... It's a funny scene, but I find it especially funny because it's Mathieu.

Upcoming obligatory viewing: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007). He plays the late editor of French Elle, Jean-Dominique Bauby, in Julian Schnabel's new (semi-unconventional) biopic. Bauby suffered a stroke at the age of 43 and it rendered him completely paralyzed, save for one of his eyes. He went on to blink--that's right, blink--his memoir, which was published either a few days before he died or a few days after he died. Need to see this because I'm sure that Mathieu's qualities as an actor that I've just described are there despite Bauby's paralysis.

On a slightly different note, my father just popped in to say goodnight. He asked what I am blogging about. When I told him, he said, "Geez, you write about these people and they don't even know you exist!" Is that the point? I defended my act by saying that once "these people" have made something and put it out there for consumption, it doesn't matter that they don't who every consumer is. This really is just my way of expressing gratitude. I'm thanking people whose work I appreciate. It's the polite thing to do, innit?

happy birthday danny boyle

2007-10-20T10:14:00.000+01:00

The Master of Image & Sound. One of my favorite directors. You deserve a long post about what your work means to me, but I haven't the time right now. I am going to a radical bookfair in Baltimore today. I haven't been to B-more in years.

is drag always queer?

2007-10-19T16:03:00.000+01:00

I'm currently looking up books to add to the bibliography for my thesis. I typed in the keyword "drag" and the results are a combination of three things: what I am looking for (stuff about drag queens and kings), drag racing, and anything else that has "drag" or "dragged" in the title, such as "Look What the Cat Dragged In!"

Ironic, no? Drag queens and drag racing.

up-to-date randomity

2007-10-19T13:25:00.000+01:00

1.) Anyone else think The Primitives "Crash" should have played throughout the end credits of Crash (2004)? It'd have been funny, and perhaps we'd like something about the movie then.

2.) I just recognized there aren't many words with three Us in them. Isn't that unusual?

3.) Anyone else underwhelmed by the films currently out? Will the movie season get any better? Eh. I'm eagerly anticipating I'm Not There (2007) because you know how I hate the conventional biopic; Control (2007) because it's about Joy Division and I want to see how it compares to 24 Hour Party People (2002); and Atonement (2007) because... well, for obvious reasons.

4.) I came out as queer to a class I was teaching, about the diversity of LGBT people, cultures, and issues. My fellow Q&A panelists weren't expecting it, but I don't think they were shocked.

5.) I don't want to wait till next fuckin' summer for the second season of "Mad Men" (2007-present). Tuesday means the season finale of the other show I have been committed to watching since its premiere: "Damages" (2007-present). 'Bout time. It's a bit too drawn out. But I like it.

6.) "Pushing Daisies" (2007-present) is too cute for words. I want the complete series of "Wonderfalls" (2004) on DVD. Right now.

happy birthday steve coogan

2007-10-14T12:35:00.000+01:00

If you remember, Steve Coogan is in the triumvirate of people who I really like to watch. That makes me sound like a big fat voyeur, like a perv, but film is voyeuristic. I don't need to get into any psychoanalytical theories of cinema. It's neither here nor there.

Anyway, Steve Coogan is fun to watch because he's funny. This is probably one of the most obvious things someone can say about him. That is, if they even like him and/or what he puts out into the world. However, it's a bit more difficult for me to articulate why I think he is so funny. It just seems to me that his sense of humor is much more layered, textured, than we are accustomed to.

If we look at his most famous creation, Alan Partridge (who, it should be noted, may be the result of a collaboration among Coogan, Peter Baynham, and Armando Iannucci), we see a middleaged radio disc jockey who used to be famous and who still thinks he is famous. At least he wants more than what he's got following the cancellation of his talk show. We might see that he's an idiot, a fool, a bit of a social retard, a racist, a sexist. I understand he is hard to watch for some people because he is so inappropriate, offensive, and stupid. In fact, it is his ignorance that is most offensive.

More than this though, there is something else going on with Alan. He's middleaged. Divorced. His wife is sleeping with a new, young lover. He has a son called Fernando (big ABBA fan) that doesn't like him. He lives in a hotel off the motorway for fuck's sake. His personal assistant is his only real friend and it's never certain that she even likes him. She can't possibly like working for him. He doesn't need a personal assistant, really. She's filling another void for him. The staff of the hotel enjoy ridiculing him behind his back while just barely tolerating him when they're face-to-face. I am not suggesting that the staff is morally reprehensible for being so two-faced, so disingenuous. He probably deserves it. But on top of all of this, he wants more than to be a radio personality In Norwich. He's not really fit for that sort of work anyway; his taste in music is questionable. Elitists wouldn't approve of his easy-listening playlists. But Alan's not fit for TV, either. But he doesn't get it.

And then there is this show we're watching, what someone might call a sitcom, though I would disagree with that label. Yes, there may be a laugh track and perhaps the subplot in the grand scheme of Alan's narrative arc resolves itself in 22 minutes, but it's just that: his narrative arc which I briefly described in the previous paragraph already gives Alan more texture than most sitcoms, which are loosely tied together episodes in the characters' lives. "I'm Alan Partridge" (1997, 2002) is more like a mini-series in that way. Plus Alan isn't confined to a set.

In any case, I've described a character that doesn't sound like he belongs in a comedy. But he is. And there's something to be said for painting such a depressing portrait of a man and ridiculing him. It's easiest to laugh at his stupidity, but really you just pity him. Brilliant. Which other character on TV is so simple-minded given his dark, complex circumstances?

So obviously, when I watch that particular show or anything else that Steve has done, I see Alan. Perhaps what is so interesting about Steve is how his gift for impersonations and character development sort of serves as an impediment to understanding "the real Steve Coogan." What I mean is that we so often mistake his characters for the actor, the performer, himself. For instance, there have been some who believe his brilliant turn in 24 Hour Party People (2002) as the late TV personality/journalist Tony Wilson was just him playing Alan again. I'm not going to get into the reasons why this is not true (I don't want to write a comparative study of "Alan" and "Tony"). Of course there is the possibility of seeing Alan in Tony. They're both played by Steve. His physical appearance, despite the assistance of some makeup and wigs, doesn't change all that much. Some mannerisms might be the same because, again, it's Steve. Both men are usually misunderstood, too into their own heads (and egos).

I appreciate Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story (2005) mostly for its being a rumination on celebrity, performance, and authenticity. Steve, of course, is not the only actor playing "himself" here. Rob Brydon matches him, but I'm not sure Rob has a history of celebrity quite like Steve's, so Rob playing himself doesn't come off the same way. And why should it? They're two different people. And even if their on-screen personas in this film are nothing like who they really are, it doesn't really matter. Their on-screen dynamic works. (Of course I should admit that when I watch Tristram Shandy, I see the rivalry between Steve's Tony Wilson and Rob's Ryan Letts from Party People play out, as a sort of background to their performances as rivals.)

Tristam Shandy may be about a film crew trying to adapt Laurence Sterne's unfilmmable though highly cinematic novel into a film. But there is more to it because it's about "the actor Steve Coogan." It glimpses him through various lenses: Steve as the gossip rag fodder, the actor known for his previous performances, the aspiring family man, the comedic rival, the artist philosopher, the man approaching middle age who has body issues and sexually frustrating encounters. Of course not everything here is true. It's the engagement of these themes from Steve Coogan's life that makes the film so interesting. Listening to the audio commentary by Steve and Rob on the DVD only adds more layers.

This is why Steve is fun to watch. As a chameleon who never quite sheds his skin completely with each new role, he defies being pigeonholed. He constantly tries new things (see Happy Endings [2005] and Around the World in 80 Days [2004] for more information). He constantly pokes fun at himself (in addition to Tristram, there is Coffee and Cigarettes [2003], and his conversation with Alfred Molina is the best of the little vignettes). While engaging with the constant construction of his persona, he seems candid, but he also keeps you as the viewer at a distance.

As an enigma, he's fun to watch. So happy birthday to him.

he's got a lust for life

2007-10-02T00:36:00.000+01:00

Last week it was Hitchcock. Tonight it was Trainspotting (1996). Anyone else notice the very blatant references to that oh-so-favorite film of mine in the new, second episode of the very ridiculous "Chuck" (2007-present)? As if "Lust for Life" and running/chasing after someone (yeah, in the parking lot) weren't enough, they had to go and let Chuck fall back like Renton does in the very beginning. Only for Chuck it ain't heroin; it's the U.S. government's "secrets" that makes him fall back, straight down on his heels.

happy birthday communist china

2007-10-01T17:39:00.000+01:00

You're 58 years old today. Funny, you don't look a day over six milennia old.

it ain't no chick flick

2007-10-01T17:36:00.000+01:00

I understand it's been about four months since it hit theatres, but I finally saw Knocked Up (2007). In general, I liked it. It was very funny and made me feel warm and fuzzy. I do not think it is as hilarious as everyone (read: Stephanie) has told me. I really didn't like Judd Apatow's most recent effort as writer-director: The 40-Year-Old Virgin. But Knocked Up, I agree, is a whole lot better. It's believable, where Steve Carell as a virgin is not. But that is neither here nor there.

I wanted to post about Knocked Up because I appreciated its attempts to reinvent the romantic comedy genre. While I find it very successful in the ways which I will soon point out below, I still must refer to them as "attempts" because the film did not work to completely overhaul the genre. Not since Shakespeare in Love (1998) has there been a clever reworking of the romantic comedy.

These are what I picked out as nice little spices to the formula:

1.) The PREMISE itself. There have been some movies about one-night stands. Better Than Sex (2000) comes to mind. But I mean even more generally there is a very important plot point in films where a one-night stand figures prominently, as in: the guy finds out he's a dad sometime during the film. Such as Big Daddy (1999).

Anyway, this film starts with a drunken night of sex, an awkward morning-after, and then the decision to raise a kid together. After they've ruled out abortion, they go one step further in their plans: they figure they've seven months (at that point) to get to know each other. So that neither is raising the baby with a complete stranger. And they unexpectedly fall in love. I understand this "they unexpectedly fall in love" makes it sound like Pride & Prejudice (see any version), but I think using that wonderful convention and twisting it a bit because of the premise (an unwanted pregnancy) is very clever.

2.) There's NO CHASE. You know how much I hate those damn things. With less than five minutes left of the screentime, the guy or girl realizes he or she wants to be with the other so much they literally race against the clock--whether it's through traffic in downtown Manhattan or London or on the highway on a bridge--to get to his or her beloved. It's unrealistic, especially the ones where weddings are crashed. I especially hate the ones where they have to race to the airport before the lover boards a plane, usually out of the country! But I digress.

Knocked Up conforms to the formula in that they have a fight in the middle of their relationship. Seth Rogen as slacker-stoner Ben Stone doesn't chase after Katherine Heigl's TV-reporter Alison Scott. He just waits for them both to cool off a bit and then goes to her niece's birthday party with the hope of explaining himself to Alison. She rejects him again, but eventually they get together, when their baby comes.

3.) There's NO REAL LADYFRIEND SIDEKICK. At first I found it really strange and interesting that Alison, a successful young woman with her head on her shoulders, wasn't spending most of her on-screen time away from Ben with a group of girlfriends a la "Sex and the City" (1998-2004). You know, getting advice and talking about vibrators. Whatever. The usually multiracial circle of ladyfriends is really tired, and it is such an old convention that the ladyfriends really feel like a waste of time and energy, like they're always just standing in the background. None--aside from the show previously mentioned--are as well developed as the leading lady.

I know what you're thinking: what about Debbie (Leslie Mann), Alison's sister? Well, yes, she is Alison's friend and source of guidance, but she's got her own storyline, which is sometimes humorous and sometimes a bit heartbreaking. What is not advertised for the film is the meaty subplot revolving around Debbie's marriage to Pete (sexy Paul Rudd; wait till you see him in a suit!). Alison (and sometimes Ben) are often Debbie's sidekicks when she deals with her problems. There are reciprocities in their relationships that you don't often see between the leads and the supporting characters in romantic comedies. For that, Knocked Up gets some brownie points, especially since it made me like Leslie Mann (for more info, see: Big Daddy [1999] and The Cable Guy [1996]).

I'm sure there are other things, but I can't think of any others right now. I'm opening it up and asking for your observations: how does Knocked Up try to reinvent the romantic comedy?

But here are some of the bits I didn't like:

1.) Ben's slackerdom and slacker friends. I didn't find his roommates very funny. Crude humor isn't my thing, really, so I found other bits much more entertaining. Ben's being a pothead didn't endear me to him either. I sort of wish he hadn't been a stoner-slacker. Perhaps it would have been funnier if he actually had a job (not white collar) and fewer roommates who try to steal the attention with their crude jokes.

2.) It's really dated. There are so many references to very current pop culture (such as Spider-Man 3 [2007]) that Knocked Up will forever be placed in that 2007 time capsule of pop culture, in the context of the rise of the Apatow comedy entourage. However, I should say I LOVED the Back to the Future (1985) reference, especially since Alison didn't get it at the time.

3.) Its length. Is it really necessary to have a semi-gross out comedy that runs over two hours? Then again, perhaps this subverts the (romantic) comedy genre, too. I should note that Apatow is not the first to do this. The Brothers Farrelly did it first.

life as prosthetic memory

2007-09-10T23:47:00.000+01:00

I think I have mentioned before that I am behind in my reading for some of my classes. I've caught up for my "Race and Nation in Twentieth Century US Cinema" class, which is very good news. On the other hand, I have yet to receive from the on-campus bookstore my textbooks for my "Sexuality in the Cinema" class. But that is neither here nor there.

Today I started reading Alison Landsberg's Prosthetic Memory: The Transformation of American Remembrance in the Age of Mass Culture for the US Cinema course. Very interesting. Landsberg defines "prosthetic memory"--and I'm paraphrasing here--as the site where an individual comes face-to-face with an historical narrative that the individual did not directly experience or live through. These historical narratives can be from another time or even ones that mainly just affected people of another race, class, gender, nationality, etc. Anyway, at this moment of confrontation, the person does not just understand the moment's significance, she also absorbs it as a sort of past experience that occupies for her as equal a space in her memory as any event in her archive of actual personal experiences. This sort of memory is important not just because it allows for the historical narrative or event to shape the individual's outlook and "subjectivity," it also allows for empathy.

Landsberg argues that films and experiential museums are the sites where such memory-making moments occur. This is why we're reading it for the class; to see how films can physically and emotionally move audiences to believe they are experiencing an historical moment that they themselves never actually experienced. OK. An example: the Holocaust. There are numerous films about this important event in history, and certainly not all the people who saw Schindler's List (1993) or Life is Beautiful (1997) were Jewish. If these films are filed in a viewer's memory regardless of her race, ethnicity, religion, age, gender, and so on then she may later recall the events depicted in these films, for instance, and confuse them as real events she lived through or experienced. The realism of the cinematic medium can blur the line between what is real and what is imagined, what is "authentic" and what is "inauthentic." Of course, I don't mean that Landsberg actually thinks someone can feel themselves a Holocaust victim or survivor based on seeing one film; what I mean to say is that as viewers we may imagine a past historical event as how we remember seeing it enacted in a film. And because of this, we are more likely to empathize with those who actually experienced it. Not to mention, we're also likely to identify with people who had a similar experience watching the film; we recognize we're similar because we have new "prosthetic memories."

The book is fascinating, and it got me thinking a lot since Landsberg started to deconstruct what she meant by "prosthetic memories" through using modern sci-fi epics Blade Runner (1982) and Total Recall (1990). To start there simply because sci-fi as a genre allows for an imagined future where anything is possible and where memory plays a different role in forming people's identities--as is the case in these two films--wasn't enough of a sell for me. I tried to think of other genres and films where "prosthetic memories" play a central role. And I've thought of three.

The most obvious one being Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004). Without going into too much detail about the film because I assume you've seen it, recall how Jim Carrey is racing against the clock to salvage memories before they are taken away from him. To hold onto Kate Winslet, the crazy girlfriend he would rather not forget after all, he decides to take her to memories where she did not appear. In this way, she experiences his boyhood memories of being picked on, watching from under the table an attractive friend of his mother's, and bathing in the kitchen sink. Not only can this change his memory of these past events in his life (now boyhood isn't so lonely), she has also taken on memories of times when she didn't know him and these memories of his have become hers too, informing her perspective on him, her life, and love.

The next example I thought of was Before Sunset (2004). The one-time lovers Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy reflect during this chance meeting in Paris on their affair through Vienna nine years before, as chronicled in Before Sunrise (1995). They also explicitly discuss how this chance meeting can change their memory of the past. For instance, as Delpy's Celine points out, he can no longer go on thinking his return to Vienna was an awful experience. After all, it was fodder for his first bestselling novel. Let's face it: if they had met, perhaps his book would have a different ending. His not knowing what kept her led him to leave the book open-ended because he didn't even want to imagine what an ending to their romance would be like.

But, knowing her reason for not turning up to their planned reunion changes his memory of the event. For it's now likely that he will forever connect her not showing up in Vienna to their chance meeting in Paris where they were able to discuss all sorts of things.

More to the point, the realism and the unique narrative structure (just fly-on-the-wall views of a long, intimate conversation between two strangers-turned-lovers in Sunrise and one between two past lovers in Sunset) allow the viewer to develop a "prosthetic memory" of their rendezvous. More specifically, Before Sunset invites the audience to remember the prequel through splicing scenes from Sunrise into the moments where Hawke's Jesse recognizes Celine. Their conversation that stretches out along the winding backstreets of Paris and along the Seine returns again and again to the topic of their meeting and falling in love. I think that through their words it is possible to follow their love story even if the viewer has never seen Before Sunrise. Since I saw Sunrise before Sunset, every time I watch Sunset, as they talk about the night in Vienna, I am reminded of the actual events that took place in Sunrise. The acting and writing are so superb in each that the film can and does lead one to believe they are real people. This is an effect of "prosthetic memory," I think; Jesse and Celine are real lovers. I remember them meeting in Vienna and later in Paris.

My last example is Zelig (1983). I just saw it last night for the first time. I thought it was absolutely brilliant. It satirizes society through examining in the best mockumentary fashion a human chameleon (Woody Allen as Leonard Zelig). Not only is he present for many historical moments in the 1920s and 30s, hobnobbing with the rich and famous and the regular Joes, he also takes on their physical and emotional characteristics while he is with them. He is able to fool people into thinking he is Native American, for example, because he looks and he acts like he is. Talk about "authenticity"! Talk about extreme empathy! (It's not exactly sympathy because none of his identities is permanent and thus his identities can be thought of as transient, always changing. He has no permanent self from which he can be sympathetic to one group or another all the time as the groups he assumes may be in conflict with each other.)

Then a love interest enters the story in the form of psychiatrist Eudora Fletcher (Mia Farrow). She attempts to cure him of this psychological disorder, concerned he is being taken advantage of by the media. She also wants him to develop a personality of his own.

In any case, a fascination with this period of American history had to have been one of the contributing factors for Allen's making this film. Casting himself in the role of Zelig allows him to play around with history, to imagine how his infamously neurotic self would interact with the times. Of course the story is completely fictional; it is not as if he has transferred any real story or real experience of his to this time. But, fundamentally, the film shows what it is like to insert yourself into all the historical events you wished you saw, strung together by a seemingly ridiculous but ultimately insightful narrative. In other words, the film represents a reclamation of collective history and memory and illuminates how the collective memory of history is subjective and "prosthetic."

kick out your tv

2007-09-09T22:16:00.000+01:00

Well, I have gone and done it. After months of talking about it, after weeks of sitting on the fence about it and feeling ashamed that it never looked like I was going to, I have moved the TV out of my room.

What? Were you expecting me to say that I got a tattoo?

Feeling daunted by all the reading I have to complete this week and realizing this amount of work is only likely to continue, I decided the only way I was going to get done what I needed to was if I simulated as closely as possible my room in England. No, I didn't move around any furniture, but I figured that if I could live/survive without a TV for eight months, I could do it here, too. After all, there are TVs everywhere in this house and I happen to live with two people who like to keep them on especially when they are not in the same room as they TV they profess to be in control of. Yes, this means that their noises might hamper my plans on having quiet, reading-full days. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I have resolved to limit my hours of TV to no more than a couple hours a day. And I really shouldn't watch TV during the day. Evenings can be for relaxation if I am productive during the day. Hopefully these plans will go so well that I will feel motivated to work on studying for the GRE and preparing grad school applications. (Where am I applying, first of all?)

I'll keep you updated on my progress.

the worst toilet in ikea?

2007-09-08T22:22:00.000+01:00

I had the strangest dream last night.

It was winter. We were all in our heavy coats and sweaters. I was with my father, brother, and sister meeting family friends for lunch. This part of the dream was not the most important part. At least, the lunch started in medias res. So I don't know who exactly we were meeting. I didn't get a good look at their faces.

As we were getting in the car, I realized that I should probably use the restroom. It was a long ride home and we were likely to get caught in traffic. Instead of going to use the facilities at the diner, I decided to go to the furniture and housewares store next door. Knowing how much they hate it whenever I say I need to pee, I vowed to try to make their wait for me as quick and as painless as possible.

There is no name for this store because it doesn't actually exist. The best way I can describe it now is that it was unbelievably huge. It looked like an upscale IKEA, perhaps like Habitat only much, much bigger. And as I went through it trying to locate the bathroom, it unfolded and unfolded in a bizarre fantasy and adventure video game sort of way.

As soon as I entered, I looked about and found a place in the back of the main room where all the women were standing outside a door. "Women" was labeled on the door. I waited, chattering my teeth. When I finally got in, when a cubicle was available for me, I realized it was a shower. I looked around and saw that the bathroom was even bigger than I originally thought, with more stalls and even rows of women in black bathing suits getting pedicures. I ditched the room without really wondering why this sort of thing existed in a furniture and housewares store. I went about looking for the toilet again.

I climbed through themed room after themed room. I even asked employees where I could find it. I followed each one's directions to a tee, but each time I found nothing. It was like a maze. I felt like every room opened up into another, putting the toilet further and further out of reach for me. It was like being stuck in Harrod's. People everywhere. But no room was as garishly decorated and there weren't multiple levels. My search for the toilet took place on mainly one level, but sometimes it was split.

Eventually, after what seemed like thirty minutes to me (was this a lucid dream?), I asked the last salesperson, and she could sense the desperation in my voice. That and I think I was probably sweating. She took me directly to this really high white shelving unit. About two feet above my head was a toaster labeled "Women." That's seriously all I saw. I pushed the button down, the same way you would push the bread slices into the toaster and wait for them to pop up. Then a tall cabinet the size of an airplane toilet appeared inside the shelving unit. I didn't want to go inside. I mean, I couldn't even get up in it, for it was raised at least two feet off the ground.

And that's where my dream ends. Sort of. No, I didn't piss my pants. And I never got in the box. I must have blinked here. I don't remember what I did to relieve myself. All I can remember is walking back to the car as soon as I could find my way out of the store. My family was pissed I took so long. I didn't tell them I didn't even go.

What does this mean? Am I afraid of peeing? Of not being able to pee? Or, rather, not peeing able to find a toilet? This is not news to me. I have always felt this way, which is why I have always "gone before leaving home" without even the insistence of my mother.

Does the peeing stand in for something else?

which african tribe are you?

2007-09-04T00:56:00.000+01:00

I just wrote an email to a family friend and mentioned that I needed to watch The Birth of a Nation (1915) for a class this week. Flanking my message in Gmail were adverts for online counseling to help you trace your genealogy back to African tribes such as the Zulu, Hutu, and Berber.

in a couple of hours

2007-08-19T21:04:00.000+01:00

I will be on my way to California. It's nine o'clock and I have to be up by three to catch a plane at six in the morning. I hope I wake up in time. I know what you're thinking, but I'll just keep thinking: "I'll be in LA soon."

my eyes are ready to pop out

2007-08-17T22:05:00.000+01:00

I have cried so much today. All because of words.

I don't mean that my tears have challenged the whole "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" thing. I'm not talking about insults. Instead, as I chose my words very carefully and listened much more closely than I usually do (which is close), I couldn't help but notice the power of words. I called someone out on what he had said (and had not said) earlier in the day, when he did not come to my defense as I was being attacked by someone much more close-minded than I am.

I explained to this friend who "disappointed" me that just the utterances of words, though they are just a combination of sounds with meaning, carry extra weight, especially in situations where you want to hear someone as clearly as possible so as to better understand what is happening.

What has happened to me today--hell, even for the past couple of weeks--has made me cry, but it's the way everything is delivered with cutting words, a sharp tongue. Diction and the expanse of one's lexicon has never been so significant. They're so influential they have made me cry. Over and over. Because people continue to hurt each other with what they say whether or not what they say is what they mean.

if you can hear me, you're listening

2007-08-15T16:24:00.000+01:00

On Monday, I spent five hours in my local public library. I needed to get out of the house for the sake of my sanity. My happiness even. As you probably already know, the work round the house has been very time- and energy-consuming. I think it's about time it stopped. Others seem to disagree. That's one of the many reasons I had to get out of the house and find something more personally constructive to do.

Funny thing is, I worked at one of those cubicle desks. I mean, I've never been a fan of those. I always thought I would feel really claustrophobic, essentially boxed in on three sides. But I wasn't. And it was incredibly quiet in that room. So many people came and went but hardly made a peep. I only noticed them if they slipped into my peripheral vision.

I started the hours in the library by writing in my film journal about five films. Then I started looking over stuff about grad school. In the end, I did a lot of preliminary brainstorming for grad school applications, even with the help of the very basic chapters on grad school in my GRE review book. One bit of advice in that book inspired me to really think about "the accomplishments that best demonstrate [my] abilities."

Obviously, I wrote about being selected for the university exchange program and subsequently studying abroad at Lancaster University. But then I wandered onto thinking about something else I have done: host a radio program. I never reflected so much on that experience as I did on Monday, and quite articulately and eloquently, I must say. Now I'm just embarrassed. And I probably won't be able to use any of it.

In my stream-of-consciousness notes, I admitted that it was an unconventional accomplishment to demonstrate my abilities, but it allowed me to express myself in a new way--almost anonymously, with no idea of what impact it made on the days or lives of other people, with unfamiliar technology. More than this though, I recognized in hindsight just how the radio show represents the site where many of my interests converged: music, film, personal vs. collective history/memory, place. Not to mention, "I see [the show] as an extension of me that I put out into the world, and I'm so glad I did put myself out there--in at least one way."

At the top of the page, I wrote that these words that flew out of my mind and splattered on the paper constituted "the most surprising--and perhaps most useless--thing I did today." I wouldn't call it useless now. After all, it helped me see that often boring and tedious experience from my life in a new light.

happy birthday me

2007-08-11T23:59:00.000+01:00

Thought I should say something.

happy birthday kevin mckidd

2007-08-09T23:51:00.000+01:00

This is possibly the strangest celebrity birthday, as it falls two days before my own. Not only does Kevin share this day with a truckload of other famous people--from Whitney Houston to Eric Bana--he also shares it with my grandmother. She'd be 85 today if she were still alive. Please don't get me wrong: I've thought a lot about her today. I just don't have any vivid enough memories of her to recount here because she died when I was five. Kevin, on the other hand, I have plenty of memories of, and I don't even know him. Is that not the magic of the movies? People sweep into your life when you see them once or twice and then you follow their career. And you may not even follow them consciously.

Like many other people, I first saw Kevin in Trainspotting (1996), his first or second film role. And as you know, I have a very special and ineffable relationship with this film. I was ten when I first saw this picture about heroin junkies in Edinburgh. All the bad words (if you could understand them). All the sex. All the drugs. All the Iggy Pop.

I suppose the easiest way to define what I mean by "relationship" with this film is that it is the first that really made an impression on me. It was the strangest thing: I got the humor. I understood the accents. I understood what I thought to be the film's message. As I grew older and my appreciation grew and grew, I started to appreciate it for its cinematic qualities. And for that I tip my hat to Danny Boyle, to this day one of my favorite directors. I call him the Master of Image and Sound because of his poetic-like ability to couple the two so well.

OK, getting back to Kevin: Tommy was always my favorite character. People may prefer Renton because he is the one who is most sympathetic, the one whose eyes you see this universe through. Or Sick Boy because he's so charismatic. Or Spud because he's a bit aloof. Or Begbie because he's unpredictable, and even though an asshole: he's funny.

Me? I have always loved Tommy because he's so unlike them. He's a good guy. A nice, honest, and decent fellow. One of the mysteries of life is: "Why the fuck is Thomas McKenzie friends with the rest? Especially Begbie, who just scares the shit out of him." How can you not feel bad and embarrassed when he loses his girlfriend over Renton's invasion of privacy? And then it starts his downward spiral, starting from obsessive love, to drug addiction, to an AIDS diagnosis, and finally ending at death. Every time I cry because Tommy is the one whose loss is felt the most, the hardest.

Kevin, I recognize, has made plenty more films, and I have seen most of them. While I may be suggesting that his association with the character of Tommy is why I still pay attention to his career (that doesn't say much because I care about everyone's career, even the ones of people I don't like to watch), I pay attention to him because I like him. He's in that category of people I find fun to watch. He keeps such company as Steve Coogan, Bill Nighy, Mathieu Amalric, Mads Mikkelsen, Romain Duris, Rhys Ifans, Kelly Macdonald, Shirley Henderson, Michael Sheen, Alan Cumming, Marton Csokas, Tom Hollander, and Paul Rudd among others. These are people so fascinating with (almost) every character they play that I have to see everything they do. It's as simple as this: I will never turn down an opportunity to see any of these guys. Kevin is in this group, and he's at the top of the list.

There have been so many movies I have seen just because he is in them. Particularly Dog Soldiers (2002). As you know, I don't care for horror films, but because he was in it, I thought he could elevate it. He did. I mean, I enjoyed it enough. I don't particularly care for Douglas McGrath's adaptation of Nicholas Nickleby (2002), mainly because of the casting decision to give Charlie Hunnam the lead. But for those few moments Kevin (and Alan Cumming) are on screen, my face lights up.

But Kevin, I'm sorry to say, has made a few duds. I absolutely hated De-Lovely (2004), but this was not his fault. I mainly blame the writer, director, and star Kevin Kline. Thankfully, there have been more times that Kevin makes me smile (or smirk, as with "Rome" [2005-2007]) than there have been times where I want to turn the TV off.

When I watch him now, sometimes I am reminded of his Tommy performance. Or, rather, I am reminded of how my watching him started around then. But in general, I don't really think about Trainspotting too much. Which is hard to do, considering he has undergone a transformation a la Christian Bale. He once was a thin and lanky guy, now he's so buff he'll probably be cast as a superhero in whatever comic they're adapting for the screen next.

Which brings me to my next point. Kevin has been cast as the lead in an American TV series, "Journeyman" (2007-present). If you ask me, it looks a lot like "Quantum Leap" (1989-1993). But that is neither here nor there. I'll watch it. You know I will. Because I care.

Now, today, I was a bit surprised that the IMDb listed him on the front page as having a birthday today. Granted, he was the last in the list. But I wasn't too surprised because "Rome" was a sort of a hit for HBO and a lot of people bemoaned its demise. Looking at his filmography, I was then surprised by the message boards proclaiming so many fans. All of them seemed to have "fallen in love" with him because of the series. None really mentioned being introduced to him via Trainspotting so many years ago. Of course this made me feel good, as if I made the discovery earlier. But who cares, right?

I feel the need to respond indirectly to the comments on the message boards. Yes, I find him attractive, but it is strange because he is not traditionally my type. For starters, he is blond. And well, now he's huge and "fit as fuck," as one poster said. He's got beautiful blue eyes (who could resist those?). But for me, the most attractive quality is, well, I think he has the sexiest Scottish accent I've ever heard. I understand most find the Scottish brogue sexy, but his is unlike any other Scottish actor they all go goo-goo-ga-ga over. (I say this because these message board loiterers describe his being Scottish sexy in itself. These people probably think they all wear kilts everyday, too.) Plus, I know a shitload about Scotland. It's an obsession I have Trainspotting to thank for. More than this, it's his voice.

Yeah, so, I think my triumvirate of people I love to watch goes as follows: Steve Coogan, Bill Nighy, and Kevin McKidd. And you can put them in any order you like.

the little envelope that could

2007-08-07T21:28:00.000+01:00

I have no idea what marks I earned at Lancaster. I've been checking my unofficial transcript online everyday to see if they've been transferred and made available for my viewing. Nope.

So imagine my surprise today when I received an envelope in the mail from Lancaster University. Still no grades, but it was a check for £58.10. I have no idea why. I hope I can deposit it.

What cracks me up even more is the handwritten mailing address on the envelope. I just don't know how it got here when it only has my name, street address, town, and country labeled on it. No state. No zip-code. I imagine it took a long time to get here.

love means having to say you're sorry

2007-08-04T14:16:00.000+01:00

I fear my greatest passion is in jeopardy. As if it's slowly becoming extinct. It's still in full force in my life, but I just know that it's going to gradually slip away soon. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to start someplace else.

My greatest passion, as you know, of course, is film. Just look to the right. There are 63 posts about film in my archives.

Now, now, when I write that film is in jeopardy, I do not mean the industry is in jeopardy. (Some might disagree with me there.) What I mean is that I'm not so sure it's going to be a daily fixture in my life for much longer. And here's why:

I've already resolved to move my TV out of my room as soon as school starts. I want to take this measure so that I can concentrate on my schoolwork. This includes my regular assignments for my classes and all the reading, thinking, and writing I must do for my thesis. I figure getting rid of the TV means I won't be so distracted. Because, as you know, it's very easy for me to put in a DVD and sit back and relax. Or is it?

It's not that easy after all, I think. For me, anyway. I keep a film journal, where I write about my experience and interpretation of every film I see for the first time (or the first time in a long time). I have OCD. I must write about the movie. I know that the world will not end if I don't, but I can't not document something that important to me.

Usually, I give myself a day to write about it, but I haven't written about the last eleven movies I've seen, starting with Manhattan (1979) which I saw on July 22nd. I've penned in the films' names (in their original language), year of release, and director on the pages I hope to fill, but I have yet to write about them. And it's driving me crazy. So crazy that I want to slow down watching movies so that I don't end up with twenty movies to write about. Yes, that's right. I said, "I want to slow down watching movies."

But why am I going at such a speed, you ask? Well, I've been renting five to six movies a week from the library. I request online some of the most obscure shit in the catalogue so I hardly have to wait to pick them up at my local library. To make a long story short, before yesterday, I had fourteen movies waiting for me. I have to strategically rent them. This means I end up watching some movies first before I rent the ones I really want to see because they came in later and thus will be on hold for me longer.

In any case, with all the work going on at the house, I can barely get through all five or six movies a week. And the recent upsurge of movies available for my viewing pleasure has really annoyed not only my father but myself. He has requested that I "take it easy with the movies." I agreed that I won't request more for a long time. So this means that gradually the screening of new movies (to me) will die out.

This is perfect. It goes along with what I have planned about getting the TV out of my room. I just don't know which will happen first: the removal of the TV or the dearth of library movies available for me to rent.

I'm sorry.

yeah, i found it too

2007-08-04T13:30:00.000+01:00

do you see it, too?

2007-07-22T23:24:00.000+01:00

Just watched Time to Leave (2005). It was the first time Melvil Poupaud reminded me of Gavin Rossdale, my first rock star crush. I dunno how to describe it, but it's something in the shape of their mouths and jaws. In any case, as I have matured, my tastes in men have changed. Thus, I find Melvil much more attractive than I find Gavin now. I don't even think about Gavin anymore. Besides, it doesn't hurt that Melvil's also French.

happy birthday rhys ifans

2007-07-22T23:20:00.000+01:00

Stephanie's taken a page out of my book and has already gone and wished Albert Brooks a happy 60th birthday. Doesn't mean I can't, too, I know. So happy birthday, Alby.

Truth is, so many people were born today. And it hit me last night as I went to bed at two in the morning. "Franka Potente is 33 today. And a boatload of other people celebrate their birthday today, too."

My favorite, of course, is Rhys Ifans. He's too cool. Shame whenever I mention him to my dad, I have to describe him as Hugh Grant's roommate in Notting Hill (1999). I remember him for other things.

as corny as it sounds

2007-07-21T12:05:00.000+01:00

I wish someone would say to me, "We belong together. Like traffic and weather." Like traffic and weather.

the most uncinematic disaster movie

2007-07-20T19:25:00.000+01:00

Two nights ago, I watched World Trade Center (2006). Haven't written about it in my film journal yet, but I feel the need to elaborate here on how awful a movie it is.

I guess the way I want to approach this is to take its director Oliver Stone as a guide. Stone, as we all know, loves to court controversy. Even his Alexander (2004) was controversial. In any case, I think this flag-waving waste of celluloid is his least controversial film. In fact, it's not controversial at all. For this reason, maybe I should see United 93 (2006) to compare. While the films are not about the same thing, they deal with well-connected instances. But I digress.

What I am trying to say is that I couldn't believe Stone made this. And please don't take this to mean that I am a fan of his films. I'm indifferent to them; take them or leave them, I say. It's just kind of hard not to see that the (albeit light) cynicism exhibited in Platoon (1986) has been completely erased and replaced with hokey sentimentalism parading around as a "true story of courage and survival."

It has been suggested that it is too early to make films about 11 September 2001. There's not enough hindsight. There are so many perspectives out there (then and now) that any filmic treatment of that day's events really should be more sophisticated than a good vs. evil narrative. Oh, this movie avoided that. Instead, it just opted to tell a nationalistic and triumphalist narrative. Never too early (or too late) for ones of those, eh?

At the core, I had a problem. World Trade Center is based on the true-life accounts of Port Authority police officers John McLoughlin and Will Jimeno, two of the five cops from that station who went into the complex after the second plane hit the other tower. When the buildings collapse, all five get trapped under concrete and other heavy and sharp material. But only McLoughlin and Jimeno make it out alive. Just barely. In any case, they had not begun to save any lives when the towers crashed and buried them. And all of this happens within the first half hour.

I do not mean to make light of the situation, but I do not exactly consider McLoughlin and Jimeno heroes. Instead, they are metaphors for the country. (Oh, I guess the filmmakers did use hindsight!) They don't really know what is going on and why it has happened. They don't know if they'll make it (read: recover). In fact, McLoughlin, played by a heavily-accented mustache and a receding hairline called Nicolas Cage, very nearly dies just as he is being rescued. What gets him through it? His wife, who appears to him and says he has to survive because he hasn't finished refurbishing her kitchen. (Life must go on.) There were some lines, which I now forget, that really serve as proof of this theory that they are stand-ins for all Americans. The use of a lot of archive footage includes clips of then-NYC mayor Rudy Giuliani trying to bolster some patriotic spirit, too.

Another problem I had was with the subplot of an ex-marine from rural Pennsylvania or something. He watches the events unfold with his coworkers in the office. He is so angered that he storms off, saying something to the effect of: "They don't know it yet, but a war has just begun." Such an intensely delivered over-the-top statement only makes more sense once we viewers learn that he is a former marine. I cannot remember now, but I think this tidbit about him is revealed when he goes to church (the place he stormed off to). From there, he drives down to NYC and lends a helping--and creepy--hand. See what I mean? There are others who also contribute during the crisis. I do not mean to say it isn't wonderful that people came and helped, but please. The cheese is so hard to cut it's so thick.

In fact, the scene with the marine going to the church was the only scene that overtly reminded me of anything by Stone. Yes, he's dealt with recent American history before, but here he brought in religion. And religion played a large role in Platoon. The battle over Chris Taylor's soul. Elias's Jesus-like pose just before he dies. I point this out because before this scene, there was no religion talk or iconography. As I can recall from this time in my life, the discussion about religion only became more heated once fundamentalism was brought up, as it related to the identity of the perpetrators.

Other than these issues, the other major problem I had was that it was almost completely uncinematic. I admit that, not knowing about McLoughlin or Jimeno before seeing the film, I did not know who would make it. I didn't think both would. So in this way, it was a bit of a suspense. But it was boring, and watching their families react was just like watching any other melodrama. Other than the few moments when the filmmakers actually acknowledge that there are more than just two families in distress, the film never really seems monumental. And certainly not as monumental as that day was for those of us who remember it. It was just like any other disaster movie, but with bright red, white, and blue in the background.

As this is the narrative (and some would say, myth) that most Americans have accepted about 9/11--of all Americans banding together to survive and triumph against anyone who tried to destroy the American way of life--how could anyone call it controversial? It is totally mainstream, and the most mainstream movie Stone has ever made.

I ask myself: why did he make this? Hasn't hindsight convinced him even a little bit that there are connections between the Vietnam War and the American-led "War on Terror"? I mean, the triumphalism was missing with Vietnam and definitely from his three movies centered round it. Other than these guys fortunately surviving the attack, what is triumphal about 9/11?

oh well

2007-07-19T22:33:00.000+01:00

This post says nothing, means something.

Ooh, I can see the TV behind me reflected in my computer screen.

an historic day

2007-07-18T23:39:00.000+01:00

I got my first cell phone today. More on that later...

just a tiny little prick

2007-07-17T23:53:00.000+01:00

Unbelievable. I was just washing up. And I stabbed myself. With my own thumbnail. Twice. Once on the very tip of my left middle finger. And then on the top side of my left index finger. As they are bleeding profusely right now, I am typing this one-handed.

By the way, I didn't realize I had stabbed myself until I saw the blood on the paper towels I was using to dry the glasses I had washed. Oh, no, I felt each stab as it happened, but I didn't think it was that serious.

I'm thinking I should invest in an emery board.

hey

2007-07-17T23:17:00.000+01:00

I painted!

the poor man's eddie murphy isn't eddie murphy?

2007-07-16T23:14:00.000+01:00

I have known for a while that they're coming out with a sequel to Daddy Day Care (2003): Daddy Day Camp (2007). That's no biggie. But what I didn't know until seeing a commercial today was that Eddie Murphy, Jeff Garlin, and Steve Zahn are not returning.

This doesn't exactly surprise me. I admit that at first I figured that the sequel would just follow new characters. Not so. Instead, Cuba Gooding Jr. is replacing Murphy as Charlie Hinton. Cuba's career has been punctuated by Boyz n the Hood (1991), Jerry Maguire (1996), Pearl Harbor (2001), Snow Dogs (2002), and Boat Trip (2002). And now he's that guy they call when Eddie Murphy says no.

What else is surprising about Daddy Day Camp? Fred Savage (aka Kevin Arnold) is directing. Doesn't that just make you giggle?

if i were a number, what number would i be?

2007-07-15T22:49:00.000+01:00

Stephanie took the Enneagram test by OkCupid, so I thought, why not I? This test, which Stephanie found was spot on when it called her an EIGHT (aka "The Asserter"), proves that we are not exactly the same. I'm most of what this says a FOUR is. But I don't know why we're called romantics. I'm not romantic. Just because I like Jane Austen doesn't make me romantic, does it? By the way, I comment on my results in italics.

My score on The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test: 4 - the Individualist

My Enneagram type is FOUR (aka "The Romantic")

"I am unique"

Romantics have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive.

How to Get Along with Me

* Give me plenty of compliments. They mean a lot to me. Only when I deserve them, please. And yes, they do mean a lot to me. So much so that I won't forget even the littlest one.

* Be a supportive friend or partner. Help me to learn to love and value myself. Please.

* Respect me for my special gifts of intuition and vision. I guess this could refer to my hyper-observance?

* Though I don't always want to be cheered up when I'm feeling melancholy, I sometimes like to have someone lighten me up a little. True dat. I much rather laugh than cry, I think. I mean, I cry a lot. Whether it's because of a movie or just because I'm thinking about sad things.

* Don't tell me I'm too sensitive or that I'm overreacting! Why? Because I already know this.

What I Like About Being a FOUR

* My ability to find meaning in life and to experience feeling at a deep level. Uh, I haven't found the meaning of life. 42 didn't work out.

* My ability to establish warm connections with people. There's only a few.

* Admiring what is noble, truthful, and beautiful in life. I dunno if I do that.

* My creativity, intuition, and sense of humor. I don't consider myself creative or intuitive. I don't think I am funny, but I get things.

* Being unique and being seen as unique by others. I have to admit, this is pretty important to me.

* Having aesthetic sensibilities. I do like the aesthetics of things. I do.

* Being able to easily pick up the feelings of people around me. I'm not very intuitive, but I think I can tell when someone's feeling happy or shitty. Or uncomfortable.

What's Hard About Being a FOUR

* Experiencing dark moods of emptiness and despair. This is the worst of it all.

* Feelings of self-hatred and shame; believing I don't deserve to be loved. Or maybe this is the worst.

* Feeling guilty when I disappoint people. I do, yeah.

* Feeling hurt or attacked when someone misunderstands me. No. It's the other way round. I feel misunderstood when someone hurts or attacks me.

* Expecting too much from myself and life. I think this is how people close to me see me.

* Fearing being abandoned. Yeah, but I don't freak out too much when it happens. I get over it. Eventually. I'm used to it by now. But I still hate it when it happens.

* Obsessing over resentments. I obsess over everything.

* Longing for what I don't have. Not materialistically. And not spiritually. I just want to be happy.

FOURs as Children Often

* Have active imaginations: play creatively alone or organize playmates in original games. This is a tricky one. I don't think I had a particularly active imagination as a kid. Except I did and still do pretend my life is a movie. This, however, did remind me that I invented a stupid game based round a large circle with numbers 1-30 in it painted on the asphalt at my elementary school's playground. There was nothing we could do with it, so I invented a game. That almost no one played with me.

* Are very sensitive. True dat.

* Feel that they don't fit in. Uh-huh. Still feel this way. Probably always will.

* Believe they are missing something that other people have. I'm not a particularly jealous person.

* Attach themselves to idealized teachers, heroes, artists, etc. I don't hero worship.

* Become antiauthoritarian or rebellious when criticized or not understood. I dunno.

* Feel lonely or abandoned (perhaps as a result of a death or their parents' divorce). Yeah.

FOURs as Parents (If and when I become a parent...)

* Help their children become who they really are. Definitely.

* Support their children's creativity and originality. Absolutely.

* Are good at helping their children get in touch with their feelings. Always.

* Are sometimes overly critical or overly protective. Probably.

* Are usually very good with children if not too self-absorbed. Jury's still out.

From:
Renee Baron & Elizabeth Wagele
The Enneagram Made Easy
Discover the 9 Types of People
Harper
San Francisco, 1994, 161 pages

out of context

2007-07-15T14:23:00.000+01:00

OK. It doesn't look like I am going to do much work around the house today. This means I have time to concentrate on writing an argumentative blog post. The topic? I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry (2007).

There are several problems with this movie. I know, I know, can I or should I even complain since I haven't even seen it yet? I think I can.

The film is about two firefighters--friends Chuck (Adam Sandler) and Larry (Kevin James). According to the commercial, Larry is trying to ensure that his pension is passed along to his kids. The best way to do this, he figures, is to form a domestic partnership with his very straight friend, Chuck.

Now I don't know anything about pensions really, but some things are missing from this. It doesn't make sense. Where is Larry's wife/companion/mother of his children? Is he a widower? What about life insurance? You're a firefighter! (Then again, perhaps it's his high-risk job that prevents him from getting life insurance. This is not just.) More to the point, have the makers forgotten that same-sex marriage, while still a hot-button issue (that has cooled considerably), has not been resolved, for lack of a better word? I mean, I don't think in Brooklyn there are laws in place to protect the financial rights of gay couples. Perhaps it would make more sense if the movie were based in Boston?

Anyway, the film is apparently an "unauthorized" remake of the little Australian film Strange Bedfellows (2004). Now I don't know much about Australian politics or Australians' approach to gay marriage, but somehow it is more believable that Paul Hogan and Michael Caton would have more to gain from putting on the charade (which I do not advocate at all). In other words, I could see Australia having tax laws that finally include gay couples. I just don't see them here.

Another problem I have with the film derives yet again from the commercial I see all the time on TV. It sets up the premise. Understandable. Necessary. But it also introduces an unexpected setback in their plan. Looks like Chuck will fall for a case worker or lawyer or something. Anyway, he falls for Jessica Biel (surprise, surprise; and what's the age difference?). My point here is the commercial/trailer spelled out the whole movie. Heterosexuality gets in the way. It shows that the only reason to see this is to see them make fun of homosexuality because two masculine firefighters not all that secure with their sexuality are going to pretend to be homosexuals. Just for laughs. I may be wrong. It may be that the film has good intentions, to educate the usual Adam Sandler moviegoer about gay people (because let's face it, most of his other stuff is homophobic). In other words, the film may be more sympathetic, but I doubt it. If they wanted to do this, Sandler would play in earnest a gay character in a movie. (Shit. I can't remember the representation of the gay couple in Big Daddy [1999].)

I specifically take offense to the scene in the commercial where they're shopping together. Larry picks up a box of tampons or sanitary pads. Chuck reminds him: "We're gay! Not transsexuals!" This statement, while pointing out the difference, ultimately is just another joke, another gag. I can't explain it, but it doesn't sit well with me. Nevermind the fact that male-to-female transsexuals wouldn't need that kind of personal hygiene product.

Here's another thing that bothers me. Freaks me out, rather. And I just found out about it. Director Alexander Payne and his longtime co-writer Jim Taylor have co-written the script. Maybe this means it would be better than it looks, but I am just shocked that they wrote a fuckin' Adam Sandler movie!

OK. I think I've said my piece.

14 juillet

2007-07-14T21:20:00.000+01:00

Happy Bastille Day!

Nevermind the fact that as I write this it is already the 15th in France.

lofty dreams

2007-07-13T21:55:00.000+01:00

Today was a shorter day. But combined the last two days have seen a major overhaul of the house. To explain what has happened I would need to describe the layout of the house. And I don't particularly feel like doing that right now.

Let me just say that the house feels huge now. The living room echoes, as it is now void of almost all of its original furniture (only a blue reclining armchair remains, along with some furniture that will not stay permanently). Walking from room to room, I get the feeling I am living in a large loft. The effect the combination of the emptiness and the acoustics has is very, very surreal for lack of a better word.

I honestly can't believe we got here, and we have our handyman of a cousin to thank for it. (Thank you, Manny!)

What's left, you ask? There's a lot more recycling and organizing to do. We filled a 21-foot-long dumpster that's eight feet wide and five feet tall. It got dropped off at 7.15 this morning and it's getting picked up sometime tomorrow. Then we have to go about the house, painting the rooms. Then we'll refurnish the living room. Replace the refrigerator perhaps. Rejuvenate the beautiful hardwood floors. Recarpet the playroom-turned-storage room-turned-haven't-figured-it-out-yet room. Install blinds in my room and in the large room that used to be filled with all kinds of stuff (it has very little in it now, compared to what it was like before).

This is a very strange place to be. Yes, I do mean physically. Samson has found the building very disorienting himself. He had trouble sleeping last night because the sofas in the living room, his regular resting place at night, had been evacuated.

More than this though, I just can't believe it's happened. Finally, we just might be getting the house we deserve, the lifestyle we think we can aspire to. I mean, I have said for years that I want to clean up the house so we could actually invite people over. It never got done because no one would step up and help. And then I became lazy. I didn't believe people when they said they would help. And when the people I did believe said they'd clean up, I was in England. I guess it would only get done if I were here and had people on my side.

wild movies i have known

2007-07-12T10:49:00.000+01:00

Well, since it appears I have not seen many movies recently, I thought I should directly address this discrepancy. In fact, I have seen quite a few, and I would like to share with you some of my thoughts about (most of) the movies I've seen since returning to the States, in chronological order of my viewing them.

Abridged from my film journal:

1.) Factory Girl (2006): Quick-moving like Edie Sedgwick's life, so kudos for recreating that cinematically. Still, there was something lacking. I didn't care about any of the characters. Very flat despite the fullness of those dynamic relationships. (Actually, I saw this one on the plane from the UK.)

2.) Ocean's Thirteen (2007): Long and a bit boring, but at least they make fun of themselves, which is all you can (or should) expect from these films. Not enough George Clooney.

3.) La vie en rose (2007): Weaving three time periods of tragic French singer Edith Piaf's life does not mask the fact that you, Olivier Dahan, made a rather formulaic biopic about an artist/musician. Can we please see a movie about a famous person who got almost everything right, who didn't dapple in drugs and let fame go to his or her head?

4.) Two Days (2003): Never heard of it before Stephanie rented it from Netflix while she was here. Rather liked it. Funny and tragic, which gives it a rather uneven tone, but when the main guy is Paul Rudd, I won't complain too much. (Though, have you seen The Shape of Things [2003]?)

5.) Frida (2002): Had a craving to see this one since the end of my tenure in England. I still think it's too by-the-book.

6.) Matilda (1996): So sweet it made me cry.

7.) Tea and Sympathy (1956): Wasn't expecting a movie from this era to be completely about a "sissy," a boy who exhibits behavior way too feminine for his friends to feel comfortable with their own gender and sexuality. Lovely how it skirts round his ambiguous sexuality and in the end gives him heterosexuality, although the whole time he seemed so asexual to me.

8.) A Mighty Heart (2007): Everything you'd expect from a film based on "true events" as previously represented in a book by the real-life main character. And those events took place within the last five and a half years.

9.) The Mustache (2005): Funny and strange French thriller. Not enough Mathieu Amalric.

10.) A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints (2006): Almost completely uncinematic. Just 100 minutes of some new writer-director (Dito Montiel) blowing himself. Even Robert Downey Jr. can't make it interesting.

11.) Don't Move (2004): Misogyny as only the Italians can do, but still utterly gorgeous, well-written and well-acted. Despite the major flaw (why would a repeated rape yield a love affair?!) I really enjoyed everything else about this one.

12.) Ratatouille (2007): It's as awesome as everyone's been saying but not without its flaws.

13.) Keane (2004): Another tour-de-force performance overlooked. Still, the claustrophobic camera technique does not a movie make.

14.) Conversations With Other Women (2005): There's more than just the split-screen gimmick! I swear!

15.) A tout de suite (2004): Get over the French New Wave already!

16.) Yossi & Jagger (2002): In a word: hokey.

17.) 13 Tzameti (2005): A French thriller that actually thrills. Fantastic: it's to be remade in America. I thought it already was very American.

18.) Borat (2006): Grossly anti-Semitic and very gay. Dangerous because its wild popularity probably gives almost everyone who saw it the OK to make fun of anyone and everyone.

19.) Mysterious Skin (2004): "Uncomfortable" comes to mind, but it's so well-done in almost every way (especially since it tackles some very serious issues such as pedophilia, prostitution, and gay sex during the 1980s) it demands to be seen.

20.) Kings & Queen (2004): A lot going on. Very sad but also very funny. Another plus? It's got Mathieu Amalric.

21.) Jaws (1975): I know, I'd never seen it before. Second half (their hunt for the shark) drags. Don't understand how it could yield sequels. Who would sign up to see it? Isn't everything that can be done with shark attacks been covered by this one? By the way, I don't like the whole "eye for an eye" premise because it in effect tries to defeat nature. Sharks eat. Just stay away. It's nature. It's simple.

22.) Live Free or Die Hard (2007): "Firesale!" Compelling old school action movie. Probably why I liked it on the whole.

p.s. if you've got the time

2007-07-11T22:34:00.000+01:00

Watch cute comedian Demetri Martin act out "Selfish Jean," the new single from Travis. For me, the strangest thing about watching this video was that I once imagined a word-for-word interpretation of "Flowers in the Window" before I saw the band's actual video, the one of them stranded in a town populated only by heavily pregnant women. Yeah, I liked my idea better, too, but it's too difficult to describe. It's more difficult to describe than the band being "stranded in a town populated only by heavily pregnant women."

almost clean house

2007-07-11T22:27:00.000+01:00

I did some cleaning in the house today. (And just between you and me: I cannot believe how many cardboard boxes we've kept, and we haven't even tackled the "play room"-turned-storage room yet.) Will continue cleaning tomorrow. God, I hope this is not going to become just another excuse for my not writing.

bad dog day

2007-07-10T11:56:00.000+01:00

One year ago today, my 12-year-old dog Sandi died. We took her to the animal shelter where she was euthanized because she was experiencing the worst of old age. I don't want to get into details; it wasn't pretty.

The most tragic thing about it is that for years none of us really cared about her like we cared about Samson, who's always been treated like a king (doubly so now that he's the only dog in the house). I cried and cried in the car and at the animal shelter. I hate the way Sandi died.

ironic superheroes & villains

2007-07-09T13:38:00.001+01:00

These days, these days of the fanboy, there is a lot of talk of mythology. Each character--whether from a comic book, graphic novel, or other invented landscape--usually exists in his or her own "universe" (read: society). For this reason, we don't often see characters cross paths with each other. And we all know how powerful these literary creations are when adapted for film consumption. But apparently actors who perform in two different films in roles on opposite sides of the good/evil dichotomy can fuck up the mythology.

For instance, Sir Ian McKellan played Magneto, the bad guy in the X-Men movies. Then he played the supreme goodie Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Of course it's a testament to his acting abilities (or more appropriately, his ability to avoid being typecast). But still the fact remains: McKellan has played on both sides of the black-white divide. Some feared that his performance as Magneto would warp their reading of his playing the gentle giant Gandalf. Whether or not he did is not my point.

As for my point? I'm getting there.

I was just wondering if anyone has noticed that Jason Lee, who voiced baddie Syndrome in The Incredibles (2004), is now lending his voice to a new breed of hero, Underdog (2007). Is the mythology getting a bit tangled up? It may seem like I care because I've posted on this topic, but really, I don't. I just couldn't help but point out the irony.

figures

2007-07-08T12:01:00.000+01:00

Doesn't it just figure that I would somehow miss the opportunity to blog on 07.07.07? I was too busy watching movies and talking to Stephanie on the phone.

Eh, who cares about dates anyway?

mom is the new barbie doll

2007-07-06T21:19:00.000+01:00

Wednesday afternoon I had nothing better to do than watch a "Project Runway" (2005-present) marathon. Season three. It was all leading up to the two-hour season finale, which originally aired just after I left for England. Even though I knew the outcome, I wanted to see all four of the finalists' collections. But that is neither here nor there.

Watching TV, of course, it goes without saying that I have to contend with commercials. (I don't have TiVo.) One of the most popular ones I saw that day was for the Home Depot. You know, the one where the daughter tells her dad they need to get a new refrigerator and set of kitchen cabinets. And then it's revealed that the mother paid the daughter to say such things. We can almost assume the daughter could give a shit about the aesthetics of the kitchen.

Anyway, the mother character was decked out in that ubiquitous "soccer mom" outfit: the high-waisted and sometimes tapered khaki pant, the solid-colored knit top, and the button-down long-sleeve dress shirt. It's always unbuttoned, too. Drives me crazy. I was just using the Home Depot commercial as an example; these "soccer moms"/housewives types all look the same in commercials. During the eight months in England, I never saw such caricatures in the media. Seeing these women again once I got home made me realize how much I didn't miss them. They're so tired.

So where does "Project Runway" play into all this other than the fact that I saw these commercials throughout the marathon? Well, I came up with an idea for the show. If the producers and/or judges have made the designers reinvent the United States Postal Service uniform, for example, then why can't they redesign the "soccer mom" outfit? I know what you're thinking: the women on TV aren't necessarily representative of women in real-life. Oh, yes they are (in some cases). In any case, the designers could even interview mommies, ask them why they wear that sort of thing. Probably for comfort and to hide their tummies, I'm guessing. And they want to look casual. They could do it, but now that I think about it, it seems like Stacy and Clinton are better suited for this sort of transformation.

sexy bad boy

2007-07-05T18:52:00.000+01:00

Oh, this is so frustrating. It just figures that the blog I have wanted to post for days won't be posted after all. At least, not in the manner I would like it to be. I'm a perfectionist, but I should give you a little something.

OK. So I've seen commercials--a lot of them--for the fifth Harry Potter movie. I don't know what it's called. Harry Potter and the Scorching Money-Making Machine, perhaps? But that is neither here nor there. The point is, within these commercials I have glimpsed some extreme sexiness.

God no, I'm not talking about the little kid stars. I'm talking about Lord Voldemort. No, I don't fancy him in that black dress. I fancy him in that tight black suit he's wearing in the clip from the film in which Harry spots him at the train station. I understand that Voldemort doesn't have a (real) nose, and yes, that detracts from his looks, but Ralph Fiennes just keeps getting sexier and sexier. I used to not think of him. Now, I find him extremely attractive, and his random, well-publicized sexual escapades only make him more intriguing to me.

As you might have guessed, this blog post is incomplete because I could not furnish it with a photo of Ralph as Voldemort in that black suit. I looked everywhere for at least twenty minutes. How disappointing. You'd like it, too.

more later

2007-07-04T23:50:00.000+01:00

But until then, I'll just say it's pretty sweet that Johnny Knoxville's going to be single again. Then again, as I don't know much about him (I just find him attractive), I am sorry to hear that he's getting divorced from his wife of 12 years. I hope it ain't a second wave of rumors he was dating his The Dukes of Hazzard (2005) costar Jessica Simpson.

By the way, hope you had a happy fourth.

thank you dadd

2007-07-03T18:03:00.000+01:00

I'm in love with my new chair. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I should tell you how Chair and I met.

Well, ever since I got back, I've been complaining about my green folding chair from IKEA. I've had it for years. And remember, I think it's the reason why my legs hurt. So, since I returned from England I've been wanting another chair. I didn't even look for one when I went to IKEA to get a duvet and hangers. Stephanie said Staples was the place to go to bag a new chair, especially since they'll assemble it for five extra dollars. Yeah, I'd been fixating on this prospect for a long time. I mean, I really like Stephanie's chair because it is orange.

My father donated a cushioned (and ripped) folding chair to my cause, but the ripped seat also ripped my legs. And it didn't swivel, which hurts my neck whenever I turn round to face my TV. So I still needed something else.

Recently, we had been to Office Depot. Their selection sucked. But in the back of my mind I still thought Staples would be just the same because, let's face, they're the same in every other way.

Well, to cut a long story short, I finally made it to Staples today. Didn't intend to buy a chair. I just needed photo paper because I looked everywhere in my room for it yesterday morning and couldn't find it anywhere (which, I now realize, is because I sent it home in a box before leaving England). I figured, since my father agreed to take me to Staples so I could buy the photo paper, I would kill two birds with one stone. I could just look at chairs. But I found my new chair. I took it home, and we're in love.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

happy birthday ruth bognovitz

2007-07-02T22:26:00.000+01:00

I love you, Cutie.

the tourist gaze

2007-07-02T22:24:00.000+01:00

In writing a caption for the photo I plan to submit for the Post's travel photo contest, I mentioned in one of my drafts the concept of "the tourist gaze." I wanted to find a source that would help me write a succinct definition. So I remembered Lucy R. Lippard discussing it in On the Beaten Track: Tourism, Art, and Place. I looked it up in the index and found the page, where she attributed the term to John Urry. No wonder his name came up when I wikied "tourist gaze." John Urry also featured on my Spanish cultural studies exam.

I know what you're thinking: OK. Who cares? Well, at the time of that exam, I wasn't that surprised my professor asked us to respond to one of his ideas. He's a sociology professor at Lancaster. He might be the head of the department. And he's definitely interested in "mobilities." I've walked past his office dozens of times, too.

What a small world.

eavesdropping

2007-07-01T13:42:00.000+01:00

I saw a commercial yesterday for this sort of portable amplifying device. I don't know technically what it is or how it works, but the product is called Listen Up. When they first introduced its purpose (your reason for buying it), a senior-age couple was lying in bed together at night. She wanted him to lower the volume of the TV so she could go to bed, and he complained he wouldn't be able to hear it if he did that. The solution? Listen Up because he can plug into the device with headphones/earphones so only he would hear it (loudly). What I still don't understand is why they did not mention that she would still be able to hear it on some level. It's not as if it would work if he put the TV on mute. She would hear it, too. Is there that much of a difference, anyway?

In order to fully convince people that they should buy this thing, the makers advertised other venues where it's useful, such as on nature walks (you can better hear the birds chirping!) or at sporting events (you can hear what the players are saying to each other--if you're close enough already, right?).

I don't take issue with these, but I do take issue with their other suggestion: listening in on other people's conversations. They even demonstrated two examples! A guy was listening in on two women standing on the other side of the gym. He was grinning as they complimented his physique. And a woman picking up her mail at the end of her driveway listened as neighbors passed her because they were talking about her, the obvious "new nice neighbor." She grinned, too, happy to hear that they like her after all.

OK. So if you didn't buy the thing for nature walks or classical concerts, if you had the ulterior motive of eavesdropping, invading other people's privacy, their private space even, then this commercial not only acknowledges that you may choose to purchase it for this Big Brother purpose, it fucking suggests and condones it! In other words, I was shocked that it outright acknowledged why you're probably more likely to use the little electronic device.

In any case, what this means is that in addition to governmental intrusions of privacy, privacy is becoming a thing of the past on even more local levels between individuals and/or strangers. I'm surprised they didn't show someone listening in on his Middle Eastern (particularly Muslim) neighbors to find out if they're with Al-Qaeda or something.

What is the world coming to?

happy birthday marton csokas

2007-06-30T10:10:00.000+01:00

You sexy thang.

writhing

2007-06-29T20:55:00.000+01:00

I am in pain. Here's a list of the parts of my body that hurt. I'm interested in seeing how many there are, too.

1.) My head. Apparently because of a sinus headache because after Stephanie left, my cold really kicked in. I take Motrin to relieve the pain. Shame it doesn't really work on the other parts.

2.) My knees. I swear yesterday my left knee hurt more. Today it is the right. It is so difficult and painful to walk. I wish I had a wheelchair. I think it has something to do with my lying in bed all the time. Due to pain and boredom. In addition, I think my legs hurt because this chair I am sitting on at my desk has the most awkward seat. It is raised in the front, and with my short legs my feet do not lay flat against the ground. By the way, it hurts to go up and down stairs.

3.) My heels. I can't really explain this one, but I think it has something to do with my sandals that I wear everywhere. I know what you're thinking, just stop wearing the sandals. But the damage is done.

4.) My left wrist. It hurts the most whenever I wake up. What do I do in my sleep?

That might be it.

happy birthday cake?

2007-06-28T19:27:00.000+01:00

I just had a little bit of the birthday cake ice cream made by a popular brand available in stores. (You know me, I'm not going to advertise.) Doesn't even compare to the same flavor as developed by Bruster's (oops!). This version tasted like cotton candy. When I took my first bite to determine whether or not I wanted to continue scooping it, I yelped, "Eew! Gross!" But I ended up realizing it was edible, just not that good.

Beware of the mass-produced birthday cake flavor ice cream.

you say valet, i say valet

2007-06-27T17:34:00.000+01:00

I hadn't really watched a full episode of "The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson" (2005-present) in a long time before Monday night. Flipping through the on-screen TV Guide description of that day's show, I saw that he was going to have Timothy Spall on. I stuck around but instead it was Tina Brown. Promoting yet another book about Lady Di. Yeah, so I was disappointed. I am a fan of Spall's work, and to see him be interviewed on an American late-night chat show would have been, in the very least, interesting.

Last night, I was up round that time again. I saw instead that Tina Brown was listed as one of Craig's guests. I figured they must have done a switch-a-roo, so I stuck around to see Craig and Tim chitchat about Pierrepoint: The Last Hangman (2007). (Craig first interviewed Janeane Garofalo because she voices a character in Ratatouille [2007], but they failed to talk about how she put on Colette's French accent, a conversation I would have found interesting.)

In any case, I was left disappointed again. I imagine most of Craig's audience doesn't know who the fuck Tim is, and I would have preferred a conversation that consisted of more than just their discussing how Tim's actor-son Rafe, many years ago, accused Craig of stealing all the good chicken meat when Tim invited Craig to dinner at his family's house. What a cute anecdote they have, but really that doesn't educate anyone--including myself--about Tim as an actor. By the way, they spent a fair bit of time talking about Rafe--how he's come into his own as a supposedly handsome actor--but never once called him by name.

For the record, too, it's pronounced "Pier point." Not like the French. Crazy Brits.

yeah right

2007-06-26T23:17:00.000+01:00

If you thought I was going to write a proper post, then you are sorrily mistaken.

i didn't consent to this

2007-06-25T18:51:00.000+01:00

I just saw a commercial for the new wireless network. Instead of giving you the name of the company, I will just say that the one that was absorbed into the other lost its name but kept the Tucci. In any case, they used the instrumental of "Age of Consent." Made me cry. Not because the commercial was good, but because one of my favorite New Order songs was used in a commercial.

deja vu

2007-06-24T13:02:00.000+01:00

Right now, I have "Not Your Average Travel Guide" (2007-present) on. The host is in London. He's doing everything I did with Stephanie in London. He's gone to the British Museum and looked at the Rosetta Stone and the Egyptian mummies. He's gone to Buckingham Palace, but I admit he at least saw the changing of the guard. He's gone to the Portabello Road street market. He's gone to the Tate Modern. He's gone to the pub to tap into that culture [pun intended]. But I must say he said something that offended me. He said that going to the pub is "a very London thing." Right. Only people in London go to the pub. And what about the title of the show? This is the most average travel guide! And no, I've never pretended that Stephanie and I went off the beaten path while in London.

And to introduce Indian food, he interviews people on the street about how multicultural the London population is. Of course that isn't inaccurate. It's just, I've heard this before. I've experienced it myself. Combined, all of this constitutes the first time anything on the Travel Channel--aside from the shows that profile Disney World--has just regurgitated something I have already done.

Let's hope it continues.

all the news that's fit to print

2007-06-23T23:50:00.000+01:00

I now know how to copy.

ink out the prejudice

2007-06-22T19:18:00.000+01:00

I have been meaning to blog about this since Tuesday, when the third season of "Miami Ink" (2005-present) premiered. I have watched the show that follows the day-to-day of a tattoo parlor in Miami pretty much since its beginning. It profiles those who do the intricate designs--the five artists on staff--and those who walk in requesting them. Like any show that has a cast of colorful characters (seriously, no pun intended), I have a favorite. But that is neither here nor there.

Having established how far back I go with Ami, Chris N., Chris G., Darren, and Yogi (I miss Kat!), I must address something else about my relationship with the show. I dread the instances when my father may walk in on me watching it. I know. I feel like one of those kids who's embarrassed to be caught enjoying a porno. "Miami Ink" is no porno. It's just because every time my father sees the tattooed individuals, his voice has an immediate and very noticeable volume increase. He sort of whines, threatens to change the channel, and chastises me for wanting to watch the show because he finds tattoos appalling. I guess it doesn't help that long ago, I told him Stephanie and I were considering getting tattoos. (Oh, about that: I have since changed my mind, but not forever.)

I watch the show because, let's face it, it's ethnography. You hear the stories behind the tattoos, people's reasons for wanting to permanently mark their bodies. In this way, the show works to humanize the tattoo, which is an artform, I might add. The tattoo traditionally has been associated with "low-class," "dangerous," and maybe even "delinquent." Thus it once was taboo to have or even know someone who had a tattoo. Only recently has this perception of tattoos--and of those who wear them--changed. I wonder if the show is a part of this movement (for lack of a better word) or if the show is just jumping on the bandwagon of the tattoo being seen as acceptable, respectable, and admirable. And art.

The show even went so far in the opener to the third season to subvert another convention. An active 80-year-old woman who lives on her own went into the shop and asked for an "A" on her shoulder because her name is Annie. Her reason is a little bit wacky (with hurricane season coming, she says, she wants to make sure her body can be identified should anything happen to her), but she said that she has always wanted a tattoo. She doesn't care if her peers don't like it. To make a long story short, her "A" was more than just an "A." Ami added some color to it, red floating into yellow or yellow floating into red. She wanted some pizazz. So old people can get tattoos. I've seen old people with tattoos. Just reminds you they once were young.

A blind man even got a tattoo. An actor, he chose the masks of comedy and tragedy because that is what life is: a mixture of both. He brought along his daughter to act as his eyes, to judge whether or not the design was good, was placed properly on his body, and if it turned out well. His reasoning behind getting a tattoo was: Why should he not get a tattoo, even if he can't see it? He can't see a lot of things; how is this any different? Of course his oral narrative was much more eloquently put. I'm paraphrasing from memory here. From Tuesday, mind you.

So, no matter how much my father bitches and scritches, I will continue to watch the show. I won't let him change the channel. I will continue to try to convince my dad that tattoos are not disgusting. There's a story behind every one. And besides the joke of a man waking up with "Casey" engraved on his arm and his not knowing any Casey, there usually is a lot of thought that goes into the design process. Just watch the show and you'll see.

i miss my english life already

2007-06-21T23:15:00.000+01:00

Today was the first time I actually shopped in a grocery store since coming back. Because Stephanie was here for almost two weeks when I arrived, we ate out a lot and did take-away. I miss that; now that she's gone, I can only hope for a dining out event once a week. I didn't really want to go grocery shopping today. On our way into the store, I said to my father, "I hate this place. I have never liked going to the grocery store, but I didn't hate Sainsbury's. Probably because I would go to the movies before going shopping every time." He didn't know what Sainsbury's was, even though I talk about it an awful lot. But that is neither here nor there.

I'm writing about my first real trip to the grocery store because I experienced some pretty strong counter shock. It took longer than expected because I had to find things, and I didn't know where they were. This is not because I forgot. It's because that store must rearrange their stock all the time. I didn't know my way round it before I left, and I worked there at that time!

It also took forever because I couldn't find foods of as high quality as I would in England. Especially cheddar cheese. Which makes sense since cheddar cheese comes from England, but still. I was so afraid I would have to buy American.

But this is what was most shocking to find out: most of the foods I bought were cheaper in England, even with the conversion rate! For example, at Sainsbury's I would buy three kilos of pasta for 62p. I bought a one-pound bag of pasta for $1.29. The two pints of milk I would buy in England every week cost me only 66p. I bought a quart of milk today for $1.89. The bread is cheaper in England. The salami, too.

Where in the beginning of my tenure in England I couldn't help but double the prices of everything I saw, today I took just as much time to examine the price. But only this time I spent the time trying to find a cheaper, legitimate alternative. I could sometimes, but not all. The in-house brand just isn't as good as that of Sainsbury's. God, I sound like a fuckin' advertisement.

Our cashier looked familiar to me, but I couldn't place her until hours later. When I realized that she once was a bagger and often worked with me because I was a cashier there last summer. I hated that ill-paying job, so don't expect me to don that uniform anytime soon.

bor-ring

2007-06-20T23:20:00.000+01:00

I can't believe this. I had all day to post something longer than a few lines, something with some actual substance. I suppose this is the reason why one should never write daily in a blog. You end up writing about nothing at the very end of the day because you're too tired, even if something worth writing about has happened.

But I like to keep my promises.

back to normal

2007-06-19T22:01:00.000+01:00

I have good news and I have bad news. I'll give you the good news first: I am completely unpacked and my back, neck, shoulders, and head no longer hurt. The bad news is that Stephanie is gone, and I am afraid that her leaving (she's in the air as I write this) is the only reason I unpacked finally after having been home for more than one week.

C'est la vie.

not exactly a one-liner

2007-06-18T23:38:00.000+01:00

I know what you're thinking: if this post is just another one-liner, then what is the point? It's not as if you posted yesterday. Well, I want to apologize for that.

I'm sorry.

another one-liner

2007-06-16T23:26:00.000+01:00

The only reason to eat dinner is to seem "normal" because, let's face it, you only want dessert.

wishful thinking

2007-06-15T22:05:00.000+01:00

Like today is any different.

one of the many things i need

2007-06-14T23:03:00.000+01:00

Will someone please buy me a comforter? I am freezing.

oh what a night

2007-06-13T23:45:00.000+01:00

There's a funny story as to why I didn't blog yesterday. The day got off to a pretty slow start because Stephanie and I went to the Hirshhorn Museum and got lost trying to find our way there from the wrong exit at the metro station. We allotted a lot of time to explore there, do some shopping, and eat dinner before going to the advance screening of La Vie en rose (2007).

But my stiff neck (from lugging so much shit on Friday and Saturday) was so painful that we ended up taking it very slowly. We didn't shop. Instead we sat in the Museum's sculpture garden and dozed a bit. My neck hurt so much, but it only got worse right before the movie started.

I'm not going to get into all the details about how much my shoulders, neck, and head hurt. Let me just say that when my father picked Stephanie and me up from the metro station, they insisted on taking me to the emergency room. To make a long story short, we ruled out meningitis pretty quickly. Muscles in my shoulders were spasming, causing the pain to shoot up my neck and into my head. They hooked me up to an IV and sent an anti-inflammatory medicine and some Valium into my bloodstream before giving me a cat scan.

I really didn't want to go to the emergency room. For two reasons: 1.) George Clooney wouldn't be there and 2.) the last time I was in that exact emergency room was the night before my mother died. In any case, I am glad I went. I feel SO much better. I am no longer in pain. I can't remember much of what I said or did last night because of the Valium, but I know I was goofy and a bit delirious.

When I finally got out of the bed (took the nurses forever to come back and discharge me), I felt dizzy. Like I was going to throw up. Went to the bathroom to do it, but couldn't all of the sudden. When I got home, however, I puked. That's the second time I have ever vomited in my life.

Memories, memories.

Hey, maybe we'll finally get to Fallingwater tomorrow.

what is wrong with me?

2007-06-11T23:30:00.000+01:00

Uh, yeah, I still can't concentrate.

is this really home?

2007-06-10T23:16:00.000+01:00

I'm sitting in the middle of clutter. I can't concentrate to write a proper post. All I can say is: the state of my room has proved it was well-founded of me to not want to come home.

waiting to take off

2007-06-09T08:20:00.000+01:00

I've already been up and about for two hours. I couldn't sleep last night because I kept thinking about today. You know, if everything will run smoothly. Or, more specifically, if I will be able to manage carrying all my bags. If the people at the airline will accept my bag. I already know they'll charge me, but will my bag be over 70 pounds (because that's the absolute limit on excess baggage weight)? Will I be stuck between two people all the way to America? These are the kinds of things I have been and am worrying about.

My next-door neighbor decided to invite some friends over last night, and they were blasting music and talking really loudly (but I couldn't understand them because, being English, they do not speak English). I remember going to bed at 1.10 am and I didn't fall asleep until after 3.30 am. So I am running on only a few hours of (very light) sleep.

I am counting down the hours until I physically arrive at the airport where my father and Stephanie will pick me up. We're looking at 20 hours right now.

the beginning of the end (of the beginning)

2007-06-08T23:57:00.000+01:00

It's been the longest day. I've gotten a lot accomplished. I've sweat a lot. I've flexed my muscles throughout the day (realized I have them after all). I feel like I am on fire.

I'm exhausted, but I feel the need to write a little something because this is my last night in the UK. I've looked forward to this moment for so long, but now I don't want to go. I admit it's partly because I am tired right now and that I am afraid of Heathrow. But let's face it: I've gotten used to life here. Yes, I know I can adjust back to my life at home, but I wonder if it will be the same as before I left. I don't want it to be because that means that I really have learned nothing, done nothing.

If this experience living abroad has taught me anything about myself, it's that I'm never happy in any place and that I need to move around, see new things (almost constantly). I realize this seems really stupid. It supposes I will never find a place that will make me happy, make me want to stay, though I will act as if I am looking for "that place." I guess I just need to not expect so much.

happy birthday karl urban

2007-06-07T09:10:00.000+01:00

You're a shitty actor, but I like to look at you.

cannibalism for the stars: coming soon to your tv!

2007-06-07T09:06:00.000+01:00

In the celebrity news on IMDb, I just read "Affleck Feeds the Poor." A little disappointed it wasn't about how they chopped him up (in a wood chipper, maybe?) and featured him in a three-course meal. I would have loved to say Lindsay Lohan was the main course, but she's a bit bony. Like little chicken wings. She'd be a starter, for sure.

Who would be dessert? Someone sweet, but if someone is sweet, we really shouldn't eat them. Not because we're worried about cavities. But because we want to keep them around.

In any case, wouldn't this ridiculous and in no way serious story have been more newsworthy (and less cringeworthy) than Affleck's volunteering at a Boston food bank? Yay, you.

so close but yet so far

2007-06-06T16:39:00.000+01:00

It's all over. Well, almost. That's what I hate about this last week. I just finished my last exam (didn't go as focused as planned) but I still need to work on getting out of here. And the blasting of vintage Celine Dion from the room of the one neighbor I really can't stand is not making me feel any better. It's making me feel worse.

Friday--though it has no exam--is going to be one hell of a day. I've written many reminders/appointments in my diary. In chronological order, I have to shower (of course), have my room inspected so I can get back my £160 deposit (and then cash it at a specific office on campus), do the laundry, pack, meet a prof for a goodbye drink, hand over my printer to a friend/say goodbye, attend a housewarming party for another friend/say goodbye.

And somewhere in all this I am supposed to have a burger at one of the greasy joints on campus because I haven't had red meat in forever. That was the first reminder I penned in my journal. You can see it is very important to me. I just hope I get round to doing it. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow. Oh this reminds me: I need to buy British Mars bars and Milky Ways. And some sort of Lancaster University paraphernalia so I can announce via sweatshirt the existence of such a place as Lancaster University. And that I was there this past academic year.

long-term memento

2007-06-05T20:26:00.000+01:00

Today, in my boredom and procrastination from writing practice essays for my exam tomorrow ('The Idea of Europe'), I prepared some things for packing. I also weeded out things that I am not going to take. One of the things I am contemplating keeping/giving away is a combination lock. I know what you're thinking: keep it! But here's why I considered throwing it away:

When I went in early April to Manchester and stayed overnight, I brought the lock because I wanted to keep my things reasonably secure in that 10-bed hostel room. I had bought the lock when I went round the UK and to Paris with Stephanie over the winter holiday and never wrote the combination down. Yes, so that means when I got to Manchester, I couldn't open the lock. I thought I had remembered it, but I didn't. It was useless to me then, but isn't so much now.

When I picked it up today, I immediately entered "7-26-34." And it popped open. So, I suppose this means my long-term memory works best the longer the term. I might have a functional lock now, but it weighs a ton. Oh what the hell, I'll bring it home.

i don't wanna stop living like this

2007-06-05T10:22:00.000+01:00

Here are three more things I am going to miss:

1.) Taking long showers. Because my rent doesn't break down exactly what I am paying for in terms of what we collectively call the "utilities," I can take hot showers for as long as I like. I never see how much they're costing me. And it's not like my rent would be adjusted to how much water I use anyway.

At home, I can't really get away with that. I know my dad hates it when I am in there too long. The problem is I don't know how to take a shorter shower.

2.) Sleeping naked. That's right. I sleep in the nude. But I won't be able to at home because we do not lock our doors at night. And I can't allow the possibility of my father or brother walking in on me while I'm au naturale. It'd be too embarrassing. Like something out of a movie. But I wouldn't want to be in that movie.

3.) Reading the nutritional information pie charts/"traffic lights" on in-store products at Sainsbury's. On the front of the packaging, they always tell you how much fat, saturated fat, and salt and how many sugars and calories there are per serving. It's color-coded, too. Red means high (obviously), orange medium, and green low. It's easy to read and thus saves a lot of time.

But when I go home, I'm going to have to pick up the box and search for the nutritional information each and every time. It won't be staring me in the face anymore, calling attention to my health, and making me leave the product whose fat portion in the pie chart is red.

That's all I have for now. There will be more.

it's about saturday

2007-06-04T15:20:00.000+01:00

In the hallway just now, an American neighbor asked when I am going home because we were discussing our last exams. "Saturday," I said. Then she asked if I had been home at all since I left. "Nope," I shrugged. She called me "brave." I hadn't thought about being brave since before I left for eight months. I mean, how brave can I be if she's in a similar situation? So what if she hasn't been here as long. I don't think anyone in her position can call me brave.

But this exchange also represents something else. It was the first conversation that I've had where my answer to the question "When are you going home?" was a day of the week. It's not about June 9 anymore.

I'm so close, but it seems a bit far because I've so much to do before I go.

serial killer

2007-06-03T13:10:00.000+01:00

I play the Hangman widget a lot. Should I feel guilty that I didn't feel guilty when the word was "homicidal"? And I couldn't help but notice the connection when the word was "decapitate." Only the head is the last--not the first--body part to go in the game.

"officially" out of the closet: does it matter?

2007-06-03T12:48:00.000+01:00

Let's judge the news. This just in (courtesy, of course, of the celebrity news feature on IMDb):

Hyde Pierce Officially Comes Out
Former Frasier star David Hyde Pierce has revealed he is gay, after keeping his sexuality secret for decades. The actor, who played Dr. Niles Crane in the long-running sitcom, has always refused to talk about his personal life, despite rumo[r]s about his sexual orientation. But the 48-year-old has allowed his long-term partner Brian Hargrove's name to be mentioned in an interview on CNN.com. In a paragraph carefully buried in the article, the journalist writes, "Pierce got to Los Angeles in the early 1990s when his partner, actor-writer-producer Brian Hargrove, wanted to write for television." Pierce's spokesperson has since confirmed Hargrove is the star's partner.

This blurb is the fifth news story of Friday, June 1. After we learn that Lindsay Lohan "likes" rehab now. After we learn Paula Abdul is upset that there has been a video leak of her (most recent) meltdown. Stars dealing with being stars. That's what tops the celebrity news. Do I envy them? No. Do I care? Not really. (I say "not really" because if I said "no" that would be a lie; my posting shows that I at least consider whatever the media is telling me I should care about.)

But the reason why I am posting is because I am surprised David Hyde Pierce's "officially" coming out of the closet is so far down the list of important news clips. I mean, when Lance Bass, Neil Patrick Harris, and T.R. Knight came out, their stories topped the news. I understand Knight was practically forced out, and that audiences of "Grey's Anatomy" (2005-present) subsequently felt that they couldn't fantasize about his character anymore now that they know "the truth" about his sexual orientation. (That they don't think they can fantasize about him anymore is BULLSHIT, and another story.)

For all intents and purposes, these guys are has-beens. Knight really never has been (though it can be argued that perhaps the controversy of his costar's homophobic slur is what made Knight). Hyde Pierce was on a popular comedy show for years and now he mainly walks the floorboards of Broadway.

Here's what I am getting at: I think this barely made the news because we've assumed for years that Hyde Pierce is gay. "Oh you are? Congratulations to me because I've had money riding on this. Next bit of celebrity gossip, please." Honestly, I cannot wait until Nathan Lane "officially" comes out.

the rum tastes really bad

2007-06-03T11:26:00.000+01:00

As promised, here is the post about Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007). I was expecting it to be awful since the second was terrible, but I paid my £4 because I wanted to have the memory of seeing the last two in England. I spoil some things later on, so skip over the three paragraphs where the first of the three has "SPOILER" in its first sentence. I point this out because I do not want to ruin it for you if you are planning on seeing the film.

What can I say about the film that has not already been said? Yes, its special effects are among some of the best I have seen, but the film proves that special effects are not enough to sustain an entertaining movie experience. Yes, the thing is very confusing and hard to follow because they must have squeezed seven subplots in. And because the films in the franchise have already been established as moving very quickly through the action, they don't really give the audience enough time to catch up. Some parts I thought were in another language; I really had no idea what they were talking about. Others, I would have to wait ten minutes to figure out what someone ten minutes earlier had meant. On the whole, I understood the film, and they tied it up nice and tight so that we don't need a fourth installment (please no!). Just didn't understand everything as it happened.

It's a bit disheartening that the original scriptwriters Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio also wrote this one. All of the originality, creativity, and spunk of the first has gradually been replaced by pitiful pastiches of the original. Everyone comes off as a caricature of the character he or she played in the first one. The second one was bad, but this one--clocking in at 168 minutes--is much worse. At least you can follow Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006). My worry is that Elliott and Rossio turned in a script that had so much going on because they were afraid one or two or maybe even three understandable plotlines would not be enough to warrant a film. Yes, but this thinking has an inverse effect: too much makes producing it and watching it pointless.

More specifically, I found different parts very problematic. The first is what has become of Elizabeth Swann (Keira Knightley). I'm not going to complain that she has turned into a full-fledged pirate. No. That's OK for the story, but what I take issue with is just how much of a sex object they have turned her into. The novelty of course is that she is the only woman, really. The pirates in Singapore even have a hard time treating her like an equal. To make a long story short, Elizabeth becomes the desired of at least five men. I know what you're thinking, there's no cap on how many men can desire one woman, but because she is attacked or gives into them, she directly figures into any physical relationship the men want her for.

First up, you have Will Turner (the disgusting Rambo lookalike Orlando Bloom), her beloved and eventually her husband. This makes a bit more sense than the others since you have watched them grow together since the first film, but that through most of this film Will is very distrustful of her and then asks her to marry him in the middle of a battle, is really quite ridiculous. The captain of the Black Pearl, Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush, the only truly convincing pirate performance), marries them then and there like. (I have more to say about their relationship, but it comes as a spoiler later on.)

There's always been sexual tension between Elizabeth and Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp). Sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow. They kissed in the second film, and in this one they make fun of it. Because just as Elizabeth is leaving to copulate with Will on the beach (how romantic: a line of pirates seeing you off to probably watch from the ship!), she goes in to kiss him, and he says something to the effect of "Once is enough." Ouch!

Then there's Admiral James Norrington (Jack Davenport, the sexiest one in the film) who basically gets no screen-time. Just enough to say that he is on Elizabeth's side. He helps her escape from the custody of the British Navy/East India Trading Company. And then he dies, but not before Elizabeth gives into his fantasy and kisses him.

The pirate lord of Singapore, Captain Sao Feng (Chow Yun-Fat), is also enamored with her. He's convinced she is the human embodiment of the goddess Calypso. He says he wants to make her his mistress, that he hopes she gives herself willingly but if she doesn't, he will take her by force. And this is all after he sort of proved himself to be a good guy. He forces himself on her. To her credit, Elizabeth actually pushes him off her. When he dies, he bequeaths the captainship (no pun intended) to her. Thus she's now a pirate lord.

The fifth man who wants Elizabeth is Lord Cutler Beckett (Tom Hollander). Only he's a little more vague. And nothing develops between them, thank god.

So, they have made a character that was once a bit empowering into one who is trapped by men not taking her seriously because they only want her sexually. I understand that this actually makes it more realistic, but when one of the main characters of the franchise is reduced to being a plaything for the men after having experienced some corset-free action is anti-feminist. They give Elizabeth some room to be herself and explore, but then they strap her down. With all those plotlines, one thing remains consistent: Elizabeth's sex appeal. (Nevermind the fact that Keira Knightley is rather boyish in that she has almost no breasts. She's also got one terrible underbite and eyebrows that are way darker than her haircolor. All those days in the sun, eh?)

Here comes the SPOILER: In case you're not fully convinced by my argument, the bonus scene at the end of the VERY long credits cements this status of hers. But first, a little background info from the feature: Will Turner has become the new captain of the Flying Dutchman, the ship that Davy Jones (the Great Bill Nighy, who has been reduced to CGI) has controlled throughout the last two films. Will has become the captain because he killed Davy Jones. The Flying Dutchman is responsible for making sure all the souls that are lost at sea make it to the afterlife. Will, unless someone stabs his heart that is kept in the chest (hence the name of the second film where Davy's predicament was introduced), will carry this duty out for all eternity. And every ten years, he can come back up to the land (or sea) of the living so he can fuck Elizabeth. That is why the consummation of their marriage is a big deal. She won't be able to be with Will for ten more years.

Anyway, in the scene at the end of the credits, Elizabeth and a young boy are waiting on the same island where she and Will first had sex. He probably doesn't know that she's got a little son just dying to meet him. The scene only shows him pop up from the underworld; we don't see him get on the island and meet them. In any case, Elizabeth has merely become a way for Will and his legacy to stay alive. They have strapped her into becoming a mother. How does she continue to pirate? And do you see how there's no need for a fourth? It's wrapped up pretty nicely. Besides, if they were literally at the end of the world when they fought to keep piracy alive, what new challenge could really match that one? Aliens?

Elizabeth's becoming a mother also reminds me of something else equally misogynist. Elizabeth's treatment is very much like the treatment of Princess Isabelle (Sophie Marceau) in Braveheart (1995). Because Murron (Catherine McCormack) died in the first half and could not provide hero William Wallace (Mel Gibson) with some sons, the Princess carries out this requirement for the narrative, and their coupling even goes so far as to suggest that Wallace's kin will one day take the English throne. Such a shame.

The second problem of this film concerns Tia Dalma (Naomie Harris), who was introduced in the second film as a sort of voodoo guru. If you ask me, her representation is rather racist. She is black, speaks with a distinctly Caribbean accent that no one else does (is that Jamaican?), and is highly sexualized. She is a walking stereotype a la the TV psychic Miss Cleo. But she's also Calypso, Davy Jones's beloved who is trapped in the human form of "Tia Dalma." After the world's pirate lords meet and Barbossa sets Calypso free (their predecessors' council was also the one that put her under this spell in the past), she morphs into a 50-foot woman before escaping as millions of crabs. When the spell is first broken, Tia Dalma is wrapped up in rope as if she is nothing but an animal. And when she is the giant, her clothes are ripped, she screams at them down below but you can't understand her, and overall she looks very primitive but still sexy. I understand that in order for Tia Dalma to be mysterious and magical, she would have to be black. We don't really think of white people as being voodoo gurus, do we? But I just thought the filmmakers crushed her under so many stereotypes that she came off as no better than if she were a mammy.

My third problem is with the British military morphing into the East India Trading Company. This has gradually happened since the second film, when Lord Cutler Beckett was presented as evil because he took over the jurisdiction of Governor Swann (Jonathan Pryce, whose death scene is the only touching one in the third film). Nevermind the fact that they're actually in the West Indies. (Maybe I missed this; maybe they're called the East India Trading Company because they had previously been to the East and had made their fortune there, moving to the West Indies to make more. I really don't know. But they should rename themselves the West Indies Trading Company then.)

In any case, Beckett's more evil in this one because he wants to make pirates, who are bad for his business, extinct. This is the main plot, that all the pirates must learn to trust each other and fight off the EITC. But it really sinks under all the other plotlines so that when the last battle is fought, you almost forget what they are fighting for. It's rather anti-climatic to boot. Plus Beckett is a sort of Napoleonic character because--I love you Tom, but you know, you're, uh, short.

But my question is, what are the implications of turning the enemy that once was the British government into the enemy that is now the EITC? For such a huge blockbuster franchise, it's a bit hypocritical, don't you think, that at the center of the story is an anti-capitalistic message? More than this though, doesn't this imply how corporatized our world is becoming? Soon it's no longer going to be about governments or nations. Everything will be in the hands of the multinational/transnational corporations. Some might say it already is.

On the other hand, I wonder if pirates today use this film as a sort of manifesto. Johnny Depp and Keith Richards, who plays his dad in this one (and not very well, mind you), have hinted that rock stars are modern-day pirates. But I mean: do the film pirates in Asia and Canada, for instance, justify what they do with this wildly popular trilogy? In other words, does the film make it OK to pirate films, especially this one, since piracy is at the core of these sympathetic heroes who are fighting The Man?

There are so many problems with this film (franchise) that if I were to discuss them all, my arguments and explanations would become just as twisted as all the stupid plotlines.

This long blog post has been very unexpected. When Denise met Lisa and me for dinner (where I ate the aforementioned bangers 'n' mash), she asked us how the film was. I told her she definitely didn't miss anything. Later on, she asked again, and I said I need time to think about it, to process it. I didn't think I had much to say other than "it wasn't funny," "it was too long and boring," "it was just ridiculous." Turns out I was wrong.

why is the rum gone?

2007-06-02T23:59:00.000+01:00

Tired. Been out drinking and eating bangers 'n' mash. Will write on Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007) tomorrow.

it's the little things in life

2007-06-01T12:45:00.000+01:00

I was just thinking of some things that will be difficult for me to change once I return to the States in nine days (that includes the day I leave because I will spend most of it in the UK or in the air). Here's a preliminary list:

1.) It's instinctual now for me to walk on the left. Might bump into people more often than usual.

2.) Writing the date. Have to reprogram myself to write the month first, the day second. I think the US should just adopt this other way I have grown more than accustomed to. Everyone else in the world writes the date with the day first, the month second. Having said this, when I read a date I have to remind myself that in the US they mean November 6th, not June 11th by "11/06."

3.) I say "at the weekend" now instead of "over the weekend." Neither one makes any literal sense, but I like the sound of something occurring "at the weekend" in the past. Does it go over the weekend? Having said this, I do not use "fortnight." That's just stupid.

4.) I haven't seen American money in eight months. Because all the bills are the same color and size, I will have to pay extra attention when paying for anything in cash. Would hate to give 'em a twenty when I only mean to give a dollar. Having said this, I miss the quarter.

5.) When I see the prices of things, I have to remind myself NOT to double the number. That is the price. It will no longer be worth twice as much to me. Having said this, I will miss that the VAT is included in prices. I will no longer be able to go up to the register with the exact change unless I calculate and add the tax beforehand, which is not likely to happen. Ever.

I'm sure there is more. I'll keep 'em coming.

the dark side

2007-06-01T11:05:00.000+01:00

I feel as if a vampire has bitten me. No, that doesn't make sense. Vampires come from fantasy land (and not the one at Disney World). For this reason, we don't actually know what it would feel like if a vampire bit us on the neck. I'm sure people bite each other there all the time, but do they have fangs? And if they do, then it's probably some sort of gothic S&M thing. But that is neither here nor there.

So let me explain what I mean by "I feel as if a vampire has bitten me." For the past couple of weeks, my face has experienced having some pretty nice skin. The pimples have been fading away because I finally put Neosporin on them. (God, just talking about my skin has never been this easy.) But a few days ago, two giant mounds appeared near my jawline on the right side of my face, about a quarter of an inch apart. I know what you're thinking, if they are the markings of a vampire bite, then that vampire has got a small mouth.

It's because the dots are perfectly parallel to each other that I thought of a vampire bite. It really is as if one with a small mouth punctured my skin. But I don't feel woozy. I don't feel like drinking someone else's blood, and I'm pretty sure that if I walk over to my mirror, I will see myself. I just feel angry that these have come to haunt me now, just when everything was getting to be so good.

seeing, smelling, feeling

2007-05-31T14:16:00.000+01:00

Men make me giggle. Here are some examples of why they do:

1.) At the cafe yesterday where I enjoyed some Earl Grey and a white chocolate fudge-covered biscuit, the Turkish man behind the counter asked which size I wanted for the tea: large or small. I asked to see them both to gauge the difference.

"This is large."

"OK. And what is small?"

And then he smiled, "Me." I immediately thought, he's not advertising himself well. English is not his first language I am guessing, but I would think in every language a man would rather be large.

2.) I smell like men's perfume. Some call it cologne. But let's face it, the guys who do not spray Axe/Lynx all over their bodies but spray something on them nevertheless like to smell pretty. I wouldn't call it musk.

Anyway, the guy next to me on the bus smelled a bit fruity. And just a half hour ago, a neighbor who is leaving today hugged me (shocker!) and basically smeared it all over me. I smell like him now. What a souvenir.

3.) On an episode of "Rome" (2005-2007) that I watched last night, Lucius Vorenus (Kevin McKidd) was complaining to friend Titus Pullo (Ray Stevenson) about how his wife won't let him "couple" with her. Is she just angry at him? Is she not satisfied? To summarize, Titus suggested Lucius find the g-spot. But, as this is ca. 50 BC, there wasn't an exact word for it.

What is the best bit is the look Lucius gives Titus. "How do you know this about my wife?"

"Chill, Lucius, all women have them. Trust me."

happy birthday cillian, colm, and colin*

2007-05-30T23:12:00.000+01:00

Here is a totally stupid observation I made today:

At least three stars of the little Irish comedy Intermission (2003) have their birthdays within a week of one another. And within this past week to boot. First, last Friday Cillian Murphy turned 31. Today Colm Meaney turns 54. And tomorrow Colin Farrell will be 31.

I need to find something to occupy my time so that I don't end up making only trivial connections for the rest of my days. That logic--that slippery slope--is absurd, I know. Oh but you know how I love birthdays.

*I asterisk this not only because it's funny that all their names begin with a 'C' but because they're all so... Irish. (Then again Colin is actually very Scottish, too.)

this spanish history chapter is closed

2007-05-30T22:47:00.000+01:00

It happened again today. I first wrote only an "OK" essay and then wrote a "great" one by comparison. I wonder if they would have been different if I had tackled them in the opposite order. I wonder because the order I answered them was a sort of strategy, the second question first. But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me step back.

Today was my Spanish film exam. I knew that there would be two sections, the first being a scene analysis and the second being more comparative. I decided that since the comparative/more thematic essay would probably take more conceptualization/planning, I would start with that one first because I would have liked to have more energy for it. Turns out I just don't work like that. The longer and the harder I work, it seems, the better the results.

In this comparative essay based around a quotation, I suggested that the statement from Todo sobre mi madre (1999) that the character Huma Rojo as Blanche DuBois in the play A Streetcar Named Desire says ("I have always depended on the kindness of strangers") can be applied to the friendships formed in that film as well as the ones developed between strangers in Flores de otro mundo/Flowers from Another World (1999) and El espiritu de la colmena/The Spirit of the Beehive (1973). Yeah, OK. But it's not very interesting. I like that I used three films, though. One more than the required minimum.

But then I only picked up steam.

For the scene analysis essay, there was one from each of the five films we studied, and I chose the one from Soldados de Salamina/Soldiers of Salamina (2003). I linked how the particular scene (that my professor chose) is extremely important for the overall message of the film: that the younger generations today in Spain owe it to themselves and to those who fought in the Civil War (1936-9) to seek out stories from both sides to reconcile the past. In other words, the main character, Lola, a journalist/novelist, after losing her father (who was probably just a kid during or after the war), represents the younger generation(s) and was once apathetic toward understanding the war. But by the end of the film she sees its importance in her life and how people (like her) should never forget it. After all, the generation that was around during and/or after the war is starting to die off.

If this quick summary was confusing, just keep in mind I was much more articulate throughout my essay. Proud of it. It was another one of those "organic" essay-writing moments where I never lost track of my thoughts and never veered toward contradicting myself.

Before the start of the exam, my professor wished me luck and said that she hoped I would have fun with it. I wouldn't go that far, but it was one of the more pleasant exam-taking experiences I have had here.

Six down. Two to go!

P.S. In their efforts to anonymize the exams for "blind marking," they give us seat numbers and we're required to record our number on the exam booklets. Then later on they can match the number on our notebooks with our number on the master list of names. Today I was number seven. Yeah, I thought that might make me lucky. As in "lucky number seven." But it was a sort of a thrill to write "007" on my exam booklets, let me tell you. Bad ass, really.

what's up, duck?

2007-05-30T21:50:00.000+01:00

For weeks now two ducks have called the courtyard of my building home. They don't really hide themselves but they're still antisocial. In fact, they sit very near the wooden lunch tables during the day, but only when they're empty. They curl up inside their chests and look as if they're ceramic.

But they come alive at night. They quack and quack and quack. I'm not complaining. I rather like the sound. It's really quite cute, but what isn't cute is when the drunkards rumble home in the wee hours of the morning and imitate the ducks, pestering them and those of us who aren't yet asleep.

What I don't understand is how the ducks can live here. There is no water. No pond or anything. Are the puddles enough for them? I guess so. And what do they eat? Do they depend on bread bits for sustenance?

I think I might miss them.

spoiled little rich girl

2007-05-29T21:46:00.000+01:00

This just in, from the celebrity news outlet on IMDb:

Lohan Loses Sponsors for 21st Birthday
Vodka company Svedka has reportedly pulled out as sponsors of Lindsay Lohan's 21st birthday party in Las Vegas this summer. The Mean Girls actress, who has attended Alcoholics Anonymous in the past, had teamed up with the drinks company for her glitzy two-day bash on July 2, but it appears Svedka has had second thoughts about their involvement in the celebrations, according to the New York Daily News. Other sponsors for the landmark birthday celebrations include Pure nightclub, Caesars Palace and the Social House restaurant at Treasure Island.

This leaves out the bit that they probably pulled out of sponsoring her birthday because she was arrested under the suspicion that she was driving under the influence in the wee hours of Saturday morning. But that is not why I post this. I merely want to know why ANY companies would sponsor a birthday for ANYONE like it's a sporting event. I have never seen anything like this before, and quite frankly, I find it very stupid. Who can I get to sponsor my 21st birthday, eh? I can't even think of a brand. My father will do just fine.

my clothes made it home before i did

2007-05-29T20:58:00.000+01:00

On Friday, I shipped three packages of clothing, each weighing in at two kilograms (that's a little over four pounds). Just got word that at least one of them arrived today at my house.

Not only is this exceptional in general, it is extraordinary because I shipped them via sea. The woman at the post office on campus said that with this cheapest option, it would take between four and six weeks to reach its destination. To be safe, she said ten weeks at most. In addition to its being cheap, I also chose this option because I wasn't in dire need of the clothes. I thought I could live without them for a week or two after getting home. I mean, I sent tweed pants. I won't need those in Maryland during the summer.

Anyway, it only took a few days. Isn't that incredible? Why do they overestimate themselves by so much, anyway? Why is Royal Mail (aka the British Postal Service) so quick compared to its American counterpart? Is it because the UK has fewer people (and thus, perhaps, less mail)? Or did I just time it right when a ship was leaving? Actually, I bet it took a plane because I unknowingly timed it right. I mean, I was warned that it could take a plane and not even a boat. What service! And service elsewhere sucks (at the grocery store, in the restaurants, at the airports, etc.).

icehouse isn't just the name of a band

2007-05-28T21:22:00.000+01:00

It's almost June and I am sitting in my room, watching Todo sobre mi madre (1999), wearing my winter coat and socks. I think the heater is turned all the way up. I've tried turning the knob all the way in the other direction but I don't notice a difference. I just hope it gets warmer and sunnier here soon. This is uncomfortable. And I've taken so many naps in the past couple of days; it's easiest to keep warm in that iron lung for a bed that I have. I've become lazy because of it, too.