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.
Showing posts with label rants and raves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants and raves. Show all posts
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Friday, November 16, 2007
in defense of cavemen
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.
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.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
out of context
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.
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.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
wild movies i have known
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.
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.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
eavesdropping
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?
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?
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
you say valet, i say valet
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.
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.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
deja vu
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.
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.
Friday, June 22, 2007
ink out the prejudice
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.
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.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
i miss my english life already
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
this is why i go to the cinema every week
I just read an article in the NY Times about a new electronic product that hopes to take the living room by storm: Vudu. Unlike Apple TV, it blocks out the middle man (meaning your computer) and makes movies available for purchase via your TV so that you may view them directly on your TV. Sounds like pay-per-view to me, but I understand that once you've bought the film--from any number of the major participating studios--it's saved in the box for repeated viewing later on.
I have to say that I don't like that technology is becoming more and more personal and mobile. You see this with people glued to their iPods and YouTube and Myspace and Facebook. You see this as they download movies and TV shows and music online, most notably via iTunes. Netflix is different because I have always seen it as an alternative to renting from a video store, especially the evil Blockbuster. But don't get me wrong, Netflix has its problems, too.
The point is, as entertainment becomes more attainable through the Internet, pretty soon we will not buy the physical DVDs (hi-def or not) and CDs. I for one really enjoy having the tangible product, especially since with CDs, they generally come with liner notes and artwork. Will movies purchased through the Internet come with all the extras? Remember that's one of the features that got us excited about DVDs in the first place. And I still think people prefer to explore them if they like a movie enough to know about its production, for example, through an audio commentary. As for music, pretty soon we won't know what our favorite bands look like unless they're big enough to have music videos played on MTV. Nevermind. There's always YouTube and/or their own websites, but this is not enough.
I haven't even touched on how this affects the movie-going experience itself. I don't really need to because we all know that the box office has suffered a lot these past few years. Piracy, YouTube, Myspace, Facebook have all captured young people's attention and they're going less and less to the theatres. This summer promises to be packed with blockbusters that will bring people back, which is unfortunate for me because I could care less about all of them. What will I watch instead?
I've said this before, but film is an experience, and to share stories with friends and strangers in a dark room is probably one of the most bizarre things one can do, but we're all so used to it. Why give that up?
What about those movies that are released (almost) simultaneously in the theatres, on something like pay-per-view, and on DVD? I hate to say this but I am more inclined to rent those on DVD than pay more money for either of the two other options. I understand this is a way to get people to see a movie the way they want, but I think it damages a film's integrity. Call me old-fashioned but movies are supposed to come out in theatres and then enter the home. If I were interested enough in a film, I would go see it in the theatre. For instance, I would see Diggers (2006) in the theatre if it weren't coming to DVD as well. I understand others are not like me, but who says we have to cater so much to this "me me me" culture? Oh right. It's all about money, but it's cutting people off from each other (sorry, but networking sites prove you don't need to know someone in real life in order to call them your friend).
Isn't this something to lament about?
I have to say that I don't like that technology is becoming more and more personal and mobile. You see this with people glued to their iPods and YouTube and Myspace and Facebook. You see this as they download movies and TV shows and music online, most notably via iTunes. Netflix is different because I have always seen it as an alternative to renting from a video store, especially the evil Blockbuster. But don't get me wrong, Netflix has its problems, too.
The point is, as entertainment becomes more attainable through the Internet, pretty soon we will not buy the physical DVDs (hi-def or not) and CDs. I for one really enjoy having the tangible product, especially since with CDs, they generally come with liner notes and artwork. Will movies purchased through the Internet come with all the extras? Remember that's one of the features that got us excited about DVDs in the first place. And I still think people prefer to explore them if they like a movie enough to know about its production, for example, through an audio commentary. As for music, pretty soon we won't know what our favorite bands look like unless they're big enough to have music videos played on MTV. Nevermind. There's always YouTube and/or their own websites, but this is not enough.
I haven't even touched on how this affects the movie-going experience itself. I don't really need to because we all know that the box office has suffered a lot these past few years. Piracy, YouTube, Myspace, Facebook have all captured young people's attention and they're going less and less to the theatres. This summer promises to be packed with blockbusters that will bring people back, which is unfortunate for me because I could care less about all of them. What will I watch instead?
I've said this before, but film is an experience, and to share stories with friends and strangers in a dark room is probably one of the most bizarre things one can do, but we're all so used to it. Why give that up?
What about those movies that are released (almost) simultaneously in the theatres, on something like pay-per-view, and on DVD? I hate to say this but I am more inclined to rent those on DVD than pay more money for either of the two other options. I understand this is a way to get people to see a movie the way they want, but I think it damages a film's integrity. Call me old-fashioned but movies are supposed to come out in theatres and then enter the home. If I were interested enough in a film, I would go see it in the theatre. For instance, I would see Diggers (2006) in the theatre if it weren't coming to DVD as well. I understand others are not like me, but who says we have to cater so much to this "me me me" culture? Oh right. It's all about money, but it's cutting people off from each other (sorry, but networking sites prove you don't need to know someone in real life in order to call them your friend).
Isn't this something to lament about?
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
who the fuck is smoking in my room?
I just popped in Girl with a Pearl Earring (2003) because my friend and I were discussing Black Book (2006), the Dutch movie we're going to see on Thursday. I suddenly got the craving to see something that takes place in Holland. I couldn't wait until Thursday, apparently.
In case you are wondering, my posts are bland these days because I want to refrain from focusing on the negative. But I will say that I had a bizarre cross-cultural experience today, receiving feedback on my essay in front of eight others from the class. He did the same to them, too, and I think he was incredibly condescending and humiliating to these girls. But I'm sure his intentions were good, or at least he hoped they would come off that way...
I will say I wasn't happy with the mark I received. It's not the end of the world. But I honestly thought he didn't understand me because his main criticism about my paper was that I concentrated too much on subjective, personal history instead of collective history. The paper was about how our individual memories/interpretations of the past are a part of our identity and how we view the past depends a lot on who we are. For the benefit of everyone else in the room, he read out my title first, "History as I Remember It: The Intersection of History, Memory & Identity." Then he started to nitpick at my choosing the first person. I had to explain that I didn't mean for "I" to reflect me, Alexandra. Rather, it's just better than the detached, impersonal "one." It is meant to stress the individual's uniqueness. In any case, I thought he was a postmodernist and would understand where I was coming from, thinking my essay was just a continuation of the discourse in class. Did I really have to re-hash everything about collective memory given the word limitations?
Tomorrow, I go to a lecture on the representation of women and femininity in contemporary Brazilian cinema. The visiting lecturer is only going to focus on two films. Wow. She's really running the gamut there, eh? Well, I suppose it's probably just a chapter for a book manuscript. Nevertheless, I'll let you know what I think.
I guess I couldn't resist the negative.
In case you are wondering, my posts are bland these days because I want to refrain from focusing on the negative. But I will say that I had a bizarre cross-cultural experience today, receiving feedback on my essay in front of eight others from the class. He did the same to them, too, and I think he was incredibly condescending and humiliating to these girls. But I'm sure his intentions were good, or at least he hoped they would come off that way...
I will say I wasn't happy with the mark I received. It's not the end of the world. But I honestly thought he didn't understand me because his main criticism about my paper was that I concentrated too much on subjective, personal history instead of collective history. The paper was about how our individual memories/interpretations of the past are a part of our identity and how we view the past depends a lot on who we are. For the benefit of everyone else in the room, he read out my title first, "History as I Remember It: The Intersection of History, Memory & Identity." Then he started to nitpick at my choosing the first person. I had to explain that I didn't mean for "I" to reflect me, Alexandra. Rather, it's just better than the detached, impersonal "one." It is meant to stress the individual's uniqueness. In any case, I thought he was a postmodernist and would understand where I was coming from, thinking my essay was just a continuation of the discourse in class. Did I really have to re-hash everything about collective memory given the word limitations?
Tomorrow, I go to a lecture on the representation of women and femininity in contemporary Brazilian cinema. The visiting lecturer is only going to focus on two films. Wow. She's really running the gamut there, eh? Well, I suppose it's probably just a chapter for a book manuscript. Nevertheless, I'll let you know what I think.
I guess I couldn't resist the negative.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
narcolepsy in the uk
Here's another thing: I attract so many narcoleptics. During Flamenco (1995), the girl that had slept through my presentation on Guggenheim Museum Bilbao sat next to me and slept pretty much through the whole film. Why come to something--whether it's class or a film showing--if you're just going to sleep?
Today, I had to share a handout with a girl in my French cinema class. And as soon as slid my paper between us, she started to nod off. She would wake only when I made the slightest of movements. I was never even trying to wake her. How rude it is to fall asleep/sleep during class! If I were the prof, I would never tolerate such a thing.
Is it the plastic bags you all carry around that make you so sleepy?
Today, I had to share a handout with a girl in my French cinema class. And as soon as slid my paper between us, she started to nod off. She would wake only when I made the slightest of movements. I was never even trying to wake her. How rude it is to fall asleep/sleep during class! If I were the prof, I would never tolerate such a thing.
Is it the plastic bags you all carry around that make you so sleepy?
i'm the queer one
This is nothing new. (See this for more information.) And it's not surprising either that my queerness comes up in Spanish class.
Someone presented a scene/song from Flamenco (1995), that awful film I had to watch for the class. "Fandangos de Huelva" was the one she chose to discuss, and I still don't know what a "fandango" actually is. I mean, how is it different from the other styles? But that's neither here nor there.
The scene basically consists of an old man sitting at the head of a long table, singing about how much he loves someone. Then the camera moves over to look at the opposite end, over all the heads of the people sitting at the table keeping the rhythm. At the other end is another old guy singing the same kind of thing, something about crying so much he collected a full glass of water/his tears. How melodramatic. Anyway, the presenter kept saying that they're crying over a woman.
I asked, "Do you think they are lamenting about the same person?"
"It's unclear."
"And do you think it can be interpreted that they are in fact singing to each other, about each other?"
She laughed, as did many others in the class. "No, I didn't think it [flamenco] was homosexual in the past." (Flamenco is an old tradition, and this song is traditional.)
"Were there no gays in the past?"
La profesora chimed in that some famous flamenco singers during the 40s and 50s were gay, and of course they weren't broadcasting that part of their lives.
Someone else said, "Flamenco is conservative, so I find it hard to believe it could be homosexual."
They miss the point: the song could very well be about repressed love between men. There's no indication that who they are singing about is a woman. I am just too postmodern for these people.
I should note that the prof's reaction to my question/comment was pretty funny. She must think I wanna queer everything up because she knows about my thesis on transgender sexuality in film. (And I do wanna queer everything up.)
Here's the other reason I am queer to these people:
I am the only American. And during another student's presentation on Semana Santa in Seville, she explained that the Klu Klux Klan stole the idea for their pointy hats and capes from the costume of the processional figures, the nazarenos, who lead the way for the heavy floats depicting biblical scenes through the streets.
During the Q & A portion of the presentation, the teacher pointed at me and started talking about the KKK, as if I know all. At first, I made a joke that I mumbled for the girl sitting next to me: "Yeah, I'm a member." In turn, I asked the presenter if she knew why the KKK adopted the costume, considering they're certainly not Catholic. The teacher suggested I research it since the presenter didn't know. Yeah right. The instructor then said "it's still a prominent group." I thought, "Not where I live."
What vision of the U.S. are people receiving?
Someone presented a scene/song from Flamenco (1995), that awful film I had to watch for the class. "Fandangos de Huelva" was the one she chose to discuss, and I still don't know what a "fandango" actually is. I mean, how is it different from the other styles? But that's neither here nor there.
The scene basically consists of an old man sitting at the head of a long table, singing about how much he loves someone. Then the camera moves over to look at the opposite end, over all the heads of the people sitting at the table keeping the rhythm. At the other end is another old guy singing the same kind of thing, something about crying so much he collected a full glass of water/his tears. How melodramatic. Anyway, the presenter kept saying that they're crying over a woman.
I asked, "Do you think they are lamenting about the same person?"
"It's unclear."
"And do you think it can be interpreted that they are in fact singing to each other, about each other?"
She laughed, as did many others in the class. "No, I didn't think it [flamenco] was homosexual in the past." (Flamenco is an old tradition, and this song is traditional.)
"Were there no gays in the past?"
La profesora chimed in that some famous flamenco singers during the 40s and 50s were gay, and of course they weren't broadcasting that part of their lives.
Someone else said, "Flamenco is conservative, so I find it hard to believe it could be homosexual."
They miss the point: the song could very well be about repressed love between men. There's no indication that who they are singing about is a woman. I am just too postmodern for these people.
I should note that the prof's reaction to my question/comment was pretty funny. She must think I wanna queer everything up because she knows about my thesis on transgender sexuality in film. (And I do wanna queer everything up.)
Here's the other reason I am queer to these people:
I am the only American. And during another student's presentation on Semana Santa in Seville, she explained that the Klu Klux Klan stole the idea for their pointy hats and capes from the costume of the processional figures, the nazarenos, who lead the way for the heavy floats depicting biblical scenes through the streets.
During the Q & A portion of the presentation, the teacher pointed at me and started talking about the KKK, as if I know all. At first, I made a joke that I mumbled for the girl sitting next to me: "Yeah, I'm a member." In turn, I asked the presenter if she knew why the KKK adopted the costume, considering they're certainly not Catholic. The teacher suggested I research it since the presenter didn't know. Yeah right. The instructor then said "it's still a prominent group." I thought, "Not where I live."
What vision of the U.S. are people receiving?
Monday, February 19, 2007
it's not irony that divides us
I've been wanting to post about some strange differences I've observed between the species homo sapien americanus and homo sapien britannicus. Here is a rough sketch of some instances:
1. The Americans know nothing of Britain, and the British think they know everything about the U.S. that they don't ask, they just assume they "know." For instance, the Americans over here know nothing about British pop culture beyond Top Gear. Apparently I am the only American in this corridor (there are quite a few) that knows Robbie Williams was formerly of Take That. And I have come across two Brits that admitted they do not know exactly where California is. One thought it was in the southeast, i.e. Florida.
2. You may think when visiting here that the hottest fashion accessory is the thick acrylic scarf, but you're fooled. The hottest fashion accessory is in fact the plastic shopping bag from places as wide ranging as Tesco and Selfridges. Almost all the girls carry one in addition to their bookbag and/or handbag. They carry library books in these bags, among other things such as that thick and heavy scarf. One girl I talked to even made a fashion statement with her bag, which I assume she must have chosen from the heap of all others in her collection simply because it is from a boutique shop in Edinburgh. By the way, they use a new plastic bag everyday. Couldn't be seen with the same one two days in a row. It's either that or it ripped.
3. Before coming here, I had no idea that in British English, one simply "takes" decisions. You do not "make" them.
4. The English are very hard to get to know, especially when you do not like spending every waking hour in the pub. They value their privacy, too, but sometimes there are blatant contradictions, such as the frequent male streaking that occurs outside in the courtyard. (I always miss the front, but I've seen many a pale ass.) And today, someone from my Spanish film class last term asked if the grade I received on my paper was OK. A bit confused by this question because it is not polite to ask/discuss grades with fellow students where I am from, I said, "Yeah, it's OK." I moved along, and thinking that it would be polite to show an interest in her, I went back and asked, "And you?" "Yeah." Glad that's sorted.
5. The English queue all day long. They queue at cash machines and at Greggs, and I hate watching them eat whatever meat breakfast sandwich they picked out as they walk around. It's so unflattering.
I think that is all for now. Feel free to ask me any questions about this fantastic species, homo sapien britannicus, as I have studied it well over four months now.
1. The Americans know nothing of Britain, and the British think they know everything about the U.S. that they don't ask, they just assume they "know." For instance, the Americans over here know nothing about British pop culture beyond Top Gear. Apparently I am the only American in this corridor (there are quite a few) that knows Robbie Williams was formerly of Take That. And I have come across two Brits that admitted they do not know exactly where California is. One thought it was in the southeast, i.e. Florida.
2. You may think when visiting here that the hottest fashion accessory is the thick acrylic scarf, but you're fooled. The hottest fashion accessory is in fact the plastic shopping bag from places as wide ranging as Tesco and Selfridges. Almost all the girls carry one in addition to their bookbag and/or handbag. They carry library books in these bags, among other things such as that thick and heavy scarf. One girl I talked to even made a fashion statement with her bag, which I assume she must have chosen from the heap of all others in her collection simply because it is from a boutique shop in Edinburgh. By the way, they use a new plastic bag everyday. Couldn't be seen with the same one two days in a row. It's either that or it ripped.
3. Before coming here, I had no idea that in British English, one simply "takes" decisions. You do not "make" them.
4. The English are very hard to get to know, especially when you do not like spending every waking hour in the pub. They value their privacy, too, but sometimes there are blatant contradictions, such as the frequent male streaking that occurs outside in the courtyard. (I always miss the front, but I've seen many a pale ass.) And today, someone from my Spanish film class last term asked if the grade I received on my paper was OK. A bit confused by this question because it is not polite to ask/discuss grades with fellow students where I am from, I said, "Yeah, it's OK." I moved along, and thinking that it would be polite to show an interest in her, I went back and asked, "And you?" "Yeah." Glad that's sorted.
5. The English queue all day long. They queue at cash machines and at Greggs, and I hate watching them eat whatever meat breakfast sandwich they picked out as they walk around. It's so unflattering.
I think that is all for now. Feel free to ask me any questions about this fantastic species, homo sapien britannicus, as I have studied it well over four months now.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
figured it out
Now I know why I cannot use hyperlinks in my text: I use Safari as my web browser, and such text formatting features don't work in Safari, only in Internet Explorer and Mozilla Firefox. I would use Firefox as I did at home, but it does not work on my network here in England. Fuckin' piece of shit.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
the f word
I have had enough.
I have had enough of people coming in my room, noticing the poster on my wall, quickly turning their heads, and never addressing the fact that I have a giant picture of a woman's bare chest on my wall. The novelty, of course, is that she has "Obsession" scribbled across her chest, her nipples substituting the O's in the word. I got the poster at the Design Museum (the only cool thing in London, if you ask me), and it is an old advertisement for a play entitled Obession and Fantasy.
I understand it makes me look like a lesbian. (And the poster on the opposite wall from the Gay and Lesbian Archives doesn't help either.) And it is polite not to ask someone about their sexual orientation. But why wouldn't someone, who probably knows I am straight, say, "Hey! What a poster you've got here!"? What are they afraid of?
The meaning the poster has for me is best explained in relation to a particular visit to my room. Last week, my misanthropic college residence officer (he's a bit like a landlord, but there's more bureaucracy I have to deal with than just him) and his assistant came in my room for a "room check." Basically making sure I haven't broken anything. I was not expecting THEM to do this; I thought this petty task had been contracted out. And I knew there was a possibility that my room would be checked (the selection was random, I am told).
Oh, they noticed the poster. Of course they didn't say anything. I understand they were there under official business, and that whenever they see me, they might remember "lesbian" in relation to my room number, but their not looking at it after noticing it proves my point: as I can assume they're straight, the poster is addressing their obsession and fantasy about the female body. What better way to say this than have it written on some (small) breasts? Can't you look your fantasy in the eye? What is there to be ashamed of?
Therefore, you can see where I am going with this. I see the poster in a very feminist light. And so that I am not misunderstood and taken for a lesbian, I have edited the poster. Oh, no, the tits still show in all their glory, but I have written in block capitals (a la the title credits of Dr. Strangelove) "FEMINIST." So dirty.
I should add that I merely want to stop being interpreted as a lesbian. (This is not new to me.) I do not think it is fair that someone with an interest in queer issues, comfortable enough in her own sexuality, should be thought of as something she is not. And I understand that I just add fuel to the fire with a poster from the Gay and Lesbian Archives especially, but I am also challenging stereotypes. And for the record, being a lesbian--or even called one--is not a bad thing, but it is not me.
I have had enough of people coming in my room, noticing the poster on my wall, quickly turning their heads, and never addressing the fact that I have a giant picture of a woman's bare chest on my wall. The novelty, of course, is that she has "Obsession" scribbled across her chest, her nipples substituting the O's in the word. I got the poster at the Design Museum (the only cool thing in London, if you ask me), and it is an old advertisement for a play entitled Obession and Fantasy.
I understand it makes me look like a lesbian. (And the poster on the opposite wall from the Gay and Lesbian Archives doesn't help either.) And it is polite not to ask someone about their sexual orientation. But why wouldn't someone, who probably knows I am straight, say, "Hey! What a poster you've got here!"? What are they afraid of?
The meaning the poster has for me is best explained in relation to a particular visit to my room. Last week, my misanthropic college residence officer (he's a bit like a landlord, but there's more bureaucracy I have to deal with than just him) and his assistant came in my room for a "room check." Basically making sure I haven't broken anything. I was not expecting THEM to do this; I thought this petty task had been contracted out. And I knew there was a possibility that my room would be checked (the selection was random, I am told).
Oh, they noticed the poster. Of course they didn't say anything. I understand they were there under official business, and that whenever they see me, they might remember "lesbian" in relation to my room number, but their not looking at it after noticing it proves my point: as I can assume they're straight, the poster is addressing their obsession and fantasy about the female body. What better way to say this than have it written on some (small) breasts? Can't you look your fantasy in the eye? What is there to be ashamed of?
Therefore, you can see where I am going with this. I see the poster in a very feminist light. And so that I am not misunderstood and taken for a lesbian, I have edited the poster. Oh, no, the tits still show in all their glory, but I have written in block capitals (a la the title credits of Dr. Strangelove) "FEMINIST." So dirty.
I should add that I merely want to stop being interpreted as a lesbian. (This is not new to me.) I do not think it is fair that someone with an interest in queer issues, comfortable enough in her own sexuality, should be thought of as something she is not. And I understand that I just add fuel to the fire with a poster from the Gay and Lesbian Archives especially, but I am also challenging stereotypes. And for the record, being a lesbian--or even called one--is not a bad thing, but it is not me.
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