these "spirits" are even showier!

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.

it ain't no chick flick

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.

mom is the new barbie doll

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.

the dark side

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.

what's up, duck?

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.

i'll wear my earphones from hair on out

I fuckin' hate those headphones in the media resource centre of my department. They've messed up my hair beyond repair (unless I wash it again today). But wait, I am getting ahead of myself. [Pun intended.]

Today, in preparation for my French film exam that will take place Saturday morning at half past nine of the clock in the morning, I watched Lacombe Lucien (1974) AND Les Quatre cents coups (1959) aka The 400 Blows. I like The 400 Blows. I think it's poignant and sometimes pretty funny, but Lacombe Lucien has to be one of the most boring films I have ever seen. It takes way too much time to tell the story of a somewhat dim-witted country boy who almost inadvertently joins the French collaborators of the German Occupation during WWII. He enjoys the authority he has by being a member of the German police and uses it to take advantage of a Jewish tailor and his pretty daughter. There isn't a score, so every scene moves by so slowly. And there's very little talking, and when they do talk, it's--you guessed it--very slowly. Ah, but this is neither here nor there.

Getting back to my original argument: the headphones have made an impression on my hair. My hair is generally fuzzy and a bit fluffy (it ain't a fro, though, at least not yet), but there is a strip from ear to ear that is depressed. No matter how much I try to fluff out my hair, other parts continue to stick up but this strip does not budge. I look like I have a double-bumped camel on my head.

Shaving my head solved so many problems I had with my hair. It wasn't until I shaved it that I started to forgive bed head's unruly behavior, but this is just ridiculous.

when harry met sally, did people think they were a couple right off the bat?

I wasn't going to say anything about this. I was going to try to forget it. But obviously I haven't been able to, so I feel the need to blog about it.

This evening, a male friend of mine came over to where I live. He had applied to live in my college, and since he'd never seen the kind of interiors he almost got, I thought it was about time he see an example. So I showed him the communal bathroom (he's got his own), the kitchen (which he shares with only 5 other people, as opposed to my sharing it with 20-25), and my room.

When he left, he followed me into the kitchen, where I was going to start making my dinner. (I had to go to the kitchen for this reason, you see.) In there were three guys, two of them Americans. They must have been really bored because they were obnoxious, trying way too hard to make my friend feel welcome. That is very nice, but it all seemed rather lazy and forced to me. They were overdoing their manliness by doing some sort of stupid, awkward handshake with my friend and then telling him he was welcome back anytime.

As soon as my friend left, one of them started teasing me about my having a guy over. "Hey, that looked like a guy." He even went so far as to recite that stupid "K-I-S-S-I-N-G" song. I interrupted him with, "What is that [the "that looked like a guy" comment] supposed to mean?"

I should tell you the guy who teased me is also the same American who called me Harry Potter. Yeah, he really shouldn't open his mouth. I told him that I don't think he knows me well enough to talk about me like that. I understand now he must think I am a lesbian for sure. I don't care anymore.

Before I left, someone--it might have been him--brought it up again. Then he apologized for offending me. I cannot remember who said it first, but the three guys kept passing around the word "degrading." I think the offender said, "I wasn't trying to degrade you" or something to that effect. Then someone else said, for sure, "No one should degrade Allie. Or is it no one can degrade Allie?" I said, "Saying my friend is my boyfriend is not degrading. But no one should try [to degrade me]."

I write this because I understand this guy was just trying to have fun and thought I would enjoy it, too, but I didn't appreciate it because he really knows nothing about me and shouldn't presume that he can poke fun at my always being alone and for once having a friend over (who just happens to be male).

I've said this before, but one of the cultural differences I have noticed between the youth in the US and in the UK is that men and women can easily be friends in the UK without anyone (including themselves perhaps) assuming they are a couple. For instance, whenever I see a guy and a girl walking together, chatting, laughing, smiling, I cannot assume that they are an item because there are many couples like this walking around. It really is rather freeing to see that people count as individuals here first and that it isn't everyone's natural tendency to pair people off. Of course it had to be an American who would assume that my friend and I are an item. I guess he hasn't noticed this difference between our cultures, but I have, and I can't easily wipe away this new perspective I've learned about human relations.

let's not see how the others will live

Get this: maybe I won't even need to bother seeing The Lives of Others (2006). By the time I can, I'm sure this idea for a movie, which I've read about at IMDb, will already be in theatres:

German Oscar Winner Set for Hollywood Remake

The Oscar-winning Best Foreign Film is to be remade as a Hollywood movie. German espionage drama The Lives Of Others will be revamped as an English-language film with moviemakers Sydney Pollack and Anthony Minghella coming together for the project. Pollack tells trade paper Daily Variety, "We would just desperately love for that film to be something that reaches more people. We haven't gotten locked into making it yet, but we're working hard at trying to get it going." The film's writer/director Florian Henckel Von Donnersmarck claimed Oscar gold for the film in February.

Now I understand they're just toying with the idea of adapting it, but will they transport the story elsewhere? The fuckin' historical context is what makes this movie interesting. Without that, you have something else, so don't talk about "remaking" it. Anyone who knows me knows that there is nothing in film I dislike more than the remaking of perfectly good foreign-language films so that they supposedly see a wider audience. (People don't like to read movies, after all.) The originals don't reach wider audiences because English-language filmmakers have "culturally appropriated" these films so that viewers don't realize the "adaptations" are remakes and thus are less likely to see the point in viewing the original. There just needs to be a campaign or something to better advertise foreign-language films. It would be a lot cheaper than remaking a whole film, scene by scene, with more recognizable faces. (See this for more information.)

STOP LAUGHING

There is something truly lacking in these residence halls. While I never spent much time in the lounges of my former building on the university campus back home, I did park my ass for hours on end in the lobby on the first floor of the building just to read. These moments were punctuated by anything from quick chitchats to long discussions with people as they came and went. I spent so much time there that my friend Cassie and I were convinced that my favorite chair was something like a companion or boyfriend for me. We called him Alfred. I miss Alfred.

I can't do such a thing here. There aren't lounges on any of the floors. The kitchens compensate for any room where social activity outside the bedroom can take place. I don't count the pubs on campus because often there are so many people that you cannot hear each other well enough to have a conversation without shouting into each other's ears. Plus it's so smoky you can't even breathe. That's not as comfortable as sitting in Alfred's smoke-free arms.

It is not in me to spend time in a kitchen. A kitchen is for cooking. I recognize this is not so for others. But I don't particularly like the smell or look of my kitchen so the less time I spend in there the better. Other people, however, I'm convinced spend more time in there than they do in their own rooms. They like to gather, play beer pong, laugh, and generally have a good time. That's wonderful, but their laughing is annoying.

I know, I just said something as strange as "laughing is annoying." How can laughing be annoying, you ask? Well, when they are laughing ALL THE TIME, it is annoying. It is annoying because it is loud. It's like a symphony; they know each other so well they know when to chime in. They laugh so much I know exactly which laugh belongs to whom. They have no idea how iconic their belly laughs are. (This blog post only cements that iconic status.) But what is most annoying is that it is so loud and so incessant you can't hear WHAT they are laughing at. Without knowing this, what is the point? Do they even know what they are laughing at?

So, next time you laugh, ask yourself, "Why am I laughing?"