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.
Friday, November 16, 2007
american psycho nightmare
This past week was very hectic. Chaotic even because having Stephanie here sent my routine into a sort of tailspin. See, the weekends are reserved for schoolwork. I don't have any other time during the week where I can get much work done. I prefer to get each thing done all at once, or at least as much as possible in one sitting.
In any case, I had a paper due Thursday for my race and nation in 20th century cinema class. I had written the better part of it on Saturday, and I sat down on Wednesday afternoon to rewrite it. (I'd read the draft before and hated it.) But I'm getting ahead of myself. It might help to explain what the paper is about.
Feeling uninspired by the films we've seen for the class, I chose to write about American Psycho (2000). And let me tell you I really resent that almost everyone I've talked to about the film with regards to the assignment did not think I could write about it, that race was not obvious. I had to tell them each time it was about whiteness. Patrick Bateman the Wall Street yuppie/serial killer has what I have vaguely called "a particular brand of whiteness," which is tied to his job, gender, sexuality, and conformity to yuppie culture. Through him, the point of my paper was to argue that the film (and Bret Easton Ellis's book on which the film is based) claim that capitalism is evil. His materialism has driven him mad; the only thing that fulfills him is his satiating his "nightly bloodlust." Just when you thought he was an oppressive bastard because of his job, he goes and KILLS people. The fucker.
Anyway, I rewrote the paper. Almost pulled an all-nighter, working till 3.15 am. (My friend tells me that it ain't an all-nighter till at least 5 am.) All night, I tossed and turned, thinking the paper was shit. I couldn't turn my mind off; I kept thinking of the teeniest, tiniest details to add but decided not to alter the paper in the morning, thinking such minutiae wouldn't help much. To make a long story short, I have been unable to stop thinking about this paper and its flaws.
I was so depressed I took a two-hour nap today after just being up for about two hours. During that nap, I realized the bit that would have--perhaps--greatly improved my argument. And it was something I had in my original draft: at the end of the film, after Bateman has realized that his identity as a serial killer is not going to be revealed (and probably never will be), then-President Ronald Reagan is on the TV, defending himself amidst the Iran-Contra Affair. If I had mentioned this in my paper, I could have linked the Reagan Administration's murderous hypocrisy. (The scandal revolved around the U.S. selling arms to enemy Iran and then using the profits to fund the Sandinistas in Nicaragua.) Bateman's conformity to what is expected of him as a rich, white, male yuppie and all-American boy and his secret homicidal crimes sort of mirror the Scandal. If only I had mentioned this in my paper; then surely I'd get more points for discussing the historical contexts of the film. Damnit.
By the way, thinking and writing about the film and considering the book throughout this process frightened me a bit when I went to bed Wednesday night in the wee hours of the morning. I haven't scared myself in a long while. The last time I really worked myself up to a fright was thinking about an old and decrepit Howard Hughes.
In any case, I had a paper due Thursday for my race and nation in 20th century cinema class. I had written the better part of it on Saturday, and I sat down on Wednesday afternoon to rewrite it. (I'd read the draft before and hated it.) But I'm getting ahead of myself. It might help to explain what the paper is about.
Feeling uninspired by the films we've seen for the class, I chose to write about American Psycho (2000). And let me tell you I really resent that almost everyone I've talked to about the film with regards to the assignment did not think I could write about it, that race was not obvious. I had to tell them each time it was about whiteness. Patrick Bateman the Wall Street yuppie/serial killer has what I have vaguely called "a particular brand of whiteness," which is tied to his job, gender, sexuality, and conformity to yuppie culture. Through him, the point of my paper was to argue that the film (and Bret Easton Ellis's book on which the film is based) claim that capitalism is evil. His materialism has driven him mad; the only thing that fulfills him is his satiating his "nightly bloodlust." Just when you thought he was an oppressive bastard because of his job, he goes and KILLS people. The fucker.
Anyway, I rewrote the paper. Almost pulled an all-nighter, working till 3.15 am. (My friend tells me that it ain't an all-nighter till at least 5 am.) All night, I tossed and turned, thinking the paper was shit. I couldn't turn my mind off; I kept thinking of the teeniest, tiniest details to add but decided not to alter the paper in the morning, thinking such minutiae wouldn't help much. To make a long story short, I have been unable to stop thinking about this paper and its flaws.
I was so depressed I took a two-hour nap today after just being up for about two hours. During that nap, I realized the bit that would have--perhaps--greatly improved my argument. And it was something I had in my original draft: at the end of the film, after Bateman has realized that his identity as a serial killer is not going to be revealed (and probably never will be), then-President Ronald Reagan is on the TV, defending himself amidst the Iran-Contra Affair. If I had mentioned this in my paper, I could have linked the Reagan Administration's murderous hypocrisy. (The scandal revolved around the U.S. selling arms to enemy Iran and then using the profits to fund the Sandinistas in Nicaragua.) Bateman's conformity to what is expected of him as a rich, white, male yuppie and all-American boy and his secret homicidal crimes sort of mirror the Scandal. If only I had mentioned this in my paper; then surely I'd get more points for discussing the historical contexts of the film. Damnit.
By the way, thinking and writing about the film and considering the book throughout this process frightened me a bit when I went to bed Wednesday night in the wee hours of the morning. I haven't scared myself in a long while. The last time I really worked myself up to a fright was thinking about an old and decrepit Howard Hughes.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
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?
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?
Saturday, October 20, 2007
happy birthday danny boyle
The Master of Image & Sound. One of my favorite directors. You deserve a long post about what your work means to me, but I haven't the time right now. I am going to a radical bookfair in Baltimore today. I haven't been to B-more in years.
Friday, October 19, 2007
is drag always queer?
I'm currently looking up books to add to the bibliography for my thesis. I typed in the keyword "drag" and the results are a combination of three things: what I am looking for (stuff about drag queens and kings), drag racing, and anything else that has "drag" or "dragged" in the title, such as "Look What the Cat Dragged In!"
Ironic, no? Drag queens and drag racing.
Ironic, no? Drag queens and drag racing.
up-to-date randomity
1.) Anyone else think The Primitives "Crash" should have played throughout the end credits of Crash (2004)? It'd have been funny, and perhaps we'd like something about the movie then.
2.) I just recognized there aren't many words with three Us in them. Isn't that unusual?
3.) Anyone else underwhelmed by the films currently out? Will the movie season get any better? Eh. I'm eagerly anticipating I'm Not There (2007) because you know how I hate the conventional biopic; Control (2007) because it's about Joy Division and I want to see how it compares to 24 Hour Party People (2002); and Atonement (2007) because... well, for obvious reasons.
4.) I came out as queer to a class I was teaching, about the diversity of LGBT people, cultures, and issues. My fellow Q&A panelists weren't expecting it, but I don't think they were shocked.
5.) I don't want to wait till next fuckin' summer for the second season of "Mad Men" (2007-present). Tuesday means the season finale of the other show I have been committed to watching since its premiere: "Damages" (2007-present). 'Bout time. It's a bit too drawn out. But I like it.
6.) "Pushing Daisies" (2007-present) is too cute for words. I want the complete series of "Wonderfalls" (2004) on DVD. Right now.
2.) I just recognized there aren't many words with three Us in them. Isn't that unusual?
3.) Anyone else underwhelmed by the films currently out? Will the movie season get any better? Eh. I'm eagerly anticipating I'm Not There (2007) because you know how I hate the conventional biopic; Control (2007) because it's about Joy Division and I want to see how it compares to 24 Hour Party People (2002); and Atonement (2007) because... well, for obvious reasons.
4.) I came out as queer to a class I was teaching, about the diversity of LGBT people, cultures, and issues. My fellow Q&A panelists weren't expecting it, but I don't think they were shocked.
5.) I don't want to wait till next fuckin' summer for the second season of "Mad Men" (2007-present). Tuesday means the season finale of the other show I have been committed to watching since its premiere: "Damages" (2007-present). 'Bout time. It's a bit too drawn out. But I like it.
6.) "Pushing Daisies" (2007-present) is too cute for words. I want the complete series of "Wonderfalls" (2004) on DVD. Right now.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
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.
Monday, October 1, 2007
happy birthday communist china
You're 58 years old today. Funny, you don't look a day over six milennia old.
it ain't no chick flick
I understand it's been about four months since it hit theatres, but I finally saw Knocked Up (2007). In general, I liked it. It was very funny and made me feel warm and fuzzy. I do not think it is as hilarious as everyone (read: Stephanie) has told me. I really didn't like Judd Apatow's most recent effort as writer-director: The 40-Year-Old Virgin. But Knocked Up, I agree, is a whole lot better. It's believable, where Steve Carell as a virgin is not. But that is neither here nor there.
I wanted to post about Knocked Up because I appreciated its attempts to reinvent the romantic comedy genre. While I find it very successful in the ways which I will soon point out below, I still must refer to them as "attempts" because the film did not work to completely overhaul the genre. Not since Shakespeare in Love (1998) has there been a clever reworking of the romantic comedy.
These are what I picked out as nice little spices to the formula:
1.) The PREMISE itself. There have been some movies about one-night stands. Better Than Sex (2000) comes to mind. But I mean even more generally there is a very important plot point in films where a one-night stand figures prominently, as in: the guy finds out he's a dad sometime during the film. Such as Big Daddy (1999).
Anyway, this film starts with a drunken night of sex, an awkward morning-after, and then the decision to raise a kid together. After they've ruled out abortion, they go one step further in their plans: they figure they've seven months (at that point) to get to know each other. So that neither is raising the baby with a complete stranger. And they unexpectedly fall in love. I understand this "they unexpectedly fall in love" makes it sound like Pride & Prejudice (see any version), but I think using that wonderful convention and twisting it a bit because of the premise (an unwanted pregnancy) is very clever.
2.) There's NO CHASE. You know how much I hate those damn things. With less than five minutes left of the screentime, the guy or girl realizes he or she wants to be with the other so much they literally race against the clock--whether it's through traffic in downtown Manhattan or London or on the highway on a bridge--to get to his or her beloved. It's unrealistic, especially the ones where weddings are crashed. I especially hate the ones where they have to race to the airport before the lover boards a plane, usually out of the country! But I digress.
Knocked Up conforms to the formula in that they have a fight in the middle of their relationship. Seth Rogen as slacker-stoner Ben Stone doesn't chase after Katherine Heigl's TV-reporter Alison Scott. He just waits for them both to cool off a bit and then goes to her niece's birthday party with the hope of explaining himself to Alison. She rejects him again, but eventually they get together, when their baby comes.
3.) There's NO REAL LADYFRIEND SIDEKICK. At first I found it really strange and interesting that Alison, a successful young woman with her head on her shoulders, wasn't spending most of her on-screen time away from Ben with a group of girlfriends a la "Sex and the City" (1998-2004). You know, getting advice and talking about vibrators. Whatever. The usually multiracial circle of ladyfriends is really tired, and it is such an old convention that the ladyfriends really feel like a waste of time and energy, like they're always just standing in the background. None--aside from the show previously mentioned--are as well developed as the leading lady.
I know what you're thinking: what about Debbie (Leslie Mann), Alison's sister? Well, yes, she is Alison's friend and source of guidance, but she's got her own storyline, which is sometimes humorous and sometimes a bit heartbreaking. What is not advertised for the film is the meaty subplot revolving around Debbie's marriage to Pete (sexy Paul Rudd; wait till you see him in a suit!). Alison (and sometimes Ben) are often Debbie's sidekicks when she deals with her problems. There are reciprocities in their relationships that you don't often see between the leads and the supporting characters in romantic comedies. For that, Knocked Up gets some brownie points, especially since it made me like Leslie Mann (for more info, see: Big Daddy [1999] and The Cable Guy [1996]).
I'm sure there are other things, but I can't think of any others right now. I'm opening it up and asking for your observations: how does Knocked Up try to reinvent the romantic comedy?
But here are some of the bits I didn't like:
1.) Ben's slackerdom and slacker friends. I didn't find his roommates very funny. Crude humor isn't my thing, really, so I found other bits much more entertaining. Ben's being a pothead didn't endear me to him either. I sort of wish he hadn't been a stoner-slacker. Perhaps it would have been funnier if he actually had a job (not white collar) and fewer roommates who try to steal the attention with their crude jokes.
2.) It's really dated. There are so many references to very current pop culture (such as Spider-Man 3 [2007]) that Knocked Up will forever be placed in that 2007 time capsule of pop culture, in the context of the rise of the Apatow comedy entourage. However, I should say I LOVED the Back to the Future (1985) reference, especially since Alison didn't get it at the time.
3.) Its length. Is it really necessary to have a semi-gross out comedy that runs over two hours? Then again, perhaps this subverts the (romantic) comedy genre, too. I should note that Apatow is not the first to do this. The Brothers Farrelly did it first.
I wanted to post about Knocked Up because I appreciated its attempts to reinvent the romantic comedy genre. While I find it very successful in the ways which I will soon point out below, I still must refer to them as "attempts" because the film did not work to completely overhaul the genre. Not since Shakespeare in Love (1998) has there been a clever reworking of the romantic comedy.
These are what I picked out as nice little spices to the formula:
1.) The PREMISE itself. There have been some movies about one-night stands. Better Than Sex (2000) comes to mind. But I mean even more generally there is a very important plot point in films where a one-night stand figures prominently, as in: the guy finds out he's a dad sometime during the film. Such as Big Daddy (1999).
Anyway, this film starts with a drunken night of sex, an awkward morning-after, and then the decision to raise a kid together. After they've ruled out abortion, they go one step further in their plans: they figure they've seven months (at that point) to get to know each other. So that neither is raising the baby with a complete stranger. And they unexpectedly fall in love. I understand this "they unexpectedly fall in love" makes it sound like Pride & Prejudice (see any version), but I think using that wonderful convention and twisting it a bit because of the premise (an unwanted pregnancy) is very clever.
2.) There's NO CHASE. You know how much I hate those damn things. With less than five minutes left of the screentime, the guy or girl realizes he or she wants to be with the other so much they literally race against the clock--whether it's through traffic in downtown Manhattan or London or on the highway on a bridge--to get to his or her beloved. It's unrealistic, especially the ones where weddings are crashed. I especially hate the ones where they have to race to the airport before the lover boards a plane, usually out of the country! But I digress.
Knocked Up conforms to the formula in that they have a fight in the middle of their relationship. Seth Rogen as slacker-stoner Ben Stone doesn't chase after Katherine Heigl's TV-reporter Alison Scott. He just waits for them both to cool off a bit and then goes to her niece's birthday party with the hope of explaining himself to Alison. She rejects him again, but eventually they get together, when their baby comes.
3.) There's NO REAL LADYFRIEND SIDEKICK. At first I found it really strange and interesting that Alison, a successful young woman with her head on her shoulders, wasn't spending most of her on-screen time away from Ben with a group of girlfriends a la "Sex and the City" (1998-2004). You know, getting advice and talking about vibrators. Whatever. The usually multiracial circle of ladyfriends is really tired, and it is such an old convention that the ladyfriends really feel like a waste of time and energy, like they're always just standing in the background. None--aside from the show previously mentioned--are as well developed as the leading lady.
I know what you're thinking: what about Debbie (Leslie Mann), Alison's sister? Well, yes, she is Alison's friend and source of guidance, but she's got her own storyline, which is sometimes humorous and sometimes a bit heartbreaking. What is not advertised for the film is the meaty subplot revolving around Debbie's marriage to Pete (sexy Paul Rudd; wait till you see him in a suit!). Alison (and sometimes Ben) are often Debbie's sidekicks when she deals with her problems. There are reciprocities in their relationships that you don't often see between the leads and the supporting characters in romantic comedies. For that, Knocked Up gets some brownie points, especially since it made me like Leslie Mann (for more info, see: Big Daddy [1999] and The Cable Guy [1996]).
I'm sure there are other things, but I can't think of any others right now. I'm opening it up and asking for your observations: how does Knocked Up try to reinvent the romantic comedy?
But here are some of the bits I didn't like:
1.) Ben's slackerdom and slacker friends. I didn't find his roommates very funny. Crude humor isn't my thing, really, so I found other bits much more entertaining. Ben's being a pothead didn't endear me to him either. I sort of wish he hadn't been a stoner-slacker. Perhaps it would have been funnier if he actually had a job (not white collar) and fewer roommates who try to steal the attention with their crude jokes.
2.) It's really dated. There are so many references to very current pop culture (such as Spider-Man 3 [2007]) that Knocked Up will forever be placed in that 2007 time capsule of pop culture, in the context of the rise of the Apatow comedy entourage. However, I should say I LOVED the Back to the Future (1985) reference, especially since Alison didn't get it at the time.
3.) Its length. Is it really necessary to have a semi-gross out comedy that runs over two hours? Then again, perhaps this subverts the (romantic) comedy genre, too. I should note that Apatow is not the first to do this. The Brothers Farrelly did it first.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
