and the nominees might be...

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

Best Adapted Screenplay:

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

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

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

Best Original Screenplay:

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

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

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

Best Supporting Actress:

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

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

Best Supporting Actor:

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

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

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

Best Actress:

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

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

Best Actor:

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

The Likely Winner: Day-Lewis.

Best Director:

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

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

Best Picture:

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

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

Fingers crossed, yeah.

happy birthday bill nighy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

happy birthday mads mikkelsen

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

cinematically grounded

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wish you were (t)here already

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

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

I'm a member of the latter group myself.

happy birthday mathieu amalric

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

happy birthday steve coogan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he's got a lust for life

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

kick out your tv

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

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

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

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

I'll keep you updated on my progress.

my eyes are ready to pop out

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

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

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

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

if you can hear me, you're listening

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

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

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

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

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

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

happy birthday kevin mckidd

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

love means having to say you're sorry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm sorry.

do you see it, too?

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

as corny as it sounds

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

an historic day

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

bad dog day

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

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

bor-ring

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

But I like to keep my promises.

back to normal

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

C'est la vie.

archivists are going to have a field day with me

I'm a diarist. I have been for years, and as the years rage on I have become a much more detail-oriented documentarian. I think my diary as it stands now evolved from the free agenda books I would get at the start of every year in middle school. In them, I would only remind myself of daily homework assignments and the dates of any upcoming assessments. When I reached high school, I added more snippets of my daily routine. Gradually, I have added what I eat, what I wear, and more generally what I do or should be doing. With either the exact times that I do them or estimates marked with "ish" or "?" so that I know years from now it was just a guess.

This is how big a collectionist I am. I do it because I don't want to forget anything. Must admit, for example, that I started writing down what I wear so that I don't wear the same things two days in a row. I know. How could I forget what I wore the day before? You would be surprised. But that is neither here nor there.

But today, just when I thought it couldn't be packed with more info, I thought of a new thing to add: some code for categorizing my overall feeling about the day. Smiley face for "good, happy." Frowning face for "bad, unhappy." A face with a straight line for a mouth for neither good nor bad, just "shrug." Since many things influence my mood, the criteria that I evaluate before marking each day now with a smile or a frown run the gamut of possible factors. I consider everything, such as my productivity, attitude towards others, level of diversion (aka how much fun I had), intellectual stimulation, etc. You know, everything a day entails.