A few movies that I've seen recently that I really, really liked:
Before the Devil Knows You're Dead - Two brothers decide to knock off their parent's jewelry store, and their mom gets killed in the process. The whole "start the movie in the middle then go back to the beginning then go forward then back again" thing is starting to seem tired to me, but I don't see any other way this movie could have worked. I've only seen one other movie by Lumet, "Dog Day Afternoon," but I'm now definitely a fan. Watch how Ethan Hawke's character's life is presented: short and utilitarian. We are introduced immediately to his problems. Juxtapose this with his brother's scenes: Quiet, mysterious, and procedural. The writing in this movie is great, but I was truly amazed at how the director was able to add characterization through simple aesthetic choices, rather than strict dialogue. The violence is handled well, though I wish the movie didn't devolve into rampage-mode. What's up with Ethan Hawke growling and grunting like a cat when he's scared? You'll see what I mean.
The Orphanage - Scary and sad. Extremely tense scene in the middle involving a medium and night vision cameras. Good ending with two extra scenes tacked on that reek of studio tampering and audience pandering. People would have gotten it without being beaten over the head! Too bad. Self-congratulatory side note: I understood about 37% of this movie without having to glance at the subtitles. Go me.
Iron Man - This movie rules. Special effects are phenomenal. A long while back I remember reading an article about how Frank Miller was writing a Batman story in which Bruce Wayne goes to Afghanistan and lays pipe to terrorist anus. I never saw these books, and there seems to be a general fear about sending Superhero-types into real world situations. I can't quite remember who said it, but I seem to recall a director of a recent superhero flick saying that it would be unfair to our soldiers to show his hero going in and cleaning up a mess that they couldn't. Iron Man says fuck that. He fucks up Afghan terrorists. There is a clever way that John Favreau gets around the whole "one-upping the military beef": Tony Stark is a narcissist. He's obsessed with how he's affected the world. He doesn't build the Iron Man suit so he can combat AIDS in Africa. He goes to Afghanistan to destroy his legacy of enabling murderers. It all goes back to cleaning up his own mess. Not the military's. Robert Downey Jr. : fucking great. Gwenyth Paltrow: America-hating, Coldplay fucking, self-serious cow. But she's okay in this. Go see it at Warren! All digital! All THX!
Indiana Jones trailer - Tears of joy, a little bit? Yeah. I choked up when I saw this. There was no boner of joy, because this movie will transcend boners. This is deeper than sex. It moved me.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
street kings was fucking awesome
Warren Theaters in Moore, Oklahoma, is the single best theater I've ever been to in my life. All-digital. All-THX. $7 for the poor seating, $12 for the balcony. I paid the $12. You walk in and it's like a fucking Joel Schumacher version of a '50s movie theater. Batman Forever and shit. Neon lights and a million-dollar marble floor. Nice attendants in monkey suits tore our tickets.
Jimmy and I ascended the stairs to the balcony area. A life size Yoda sat on the bar. I got a 32 oz. mug of Bud Light. I was set. The walls have classic movie shit all over them: King Kong, Star Wars, etc. Between the bathrooms there's a huge signed Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade poster.
The place cost $32 million, and it looks it.
The balcony area in the actual auditorium is fucking class. Eight pairs of seats across and four rows deep, with enough room between rows so the motherfuckers behind you can stretch out without kicking the back of your chair. You can order off the menu sitting at the table in front of you. All you have to do is press the red call button. If you're cold, by the way, this other little button will warm your chair up. The padding is straight NASA. Plush as fuck.
It's about a ten-minute drive from my house. I'm going to see everything there.
The picture is fucking gorgeous. The sound is immense. And it helps that the movie we saw was tits, also.
"Street Kings" is the fucking shit. It's directed by David Ayer, who wrote "Training Day" and "Harsh Times". This flick almost pulls him out of the shit for co-writing "The Fast and the Furious" and "touching up" "SWAT". I understand, dude, you had to get paid. But I still have a chip on my shoulder about "Dark Blue". Because that was Ellroy, and your screenplay fucked it up, bad. But it was Kurt Russell and that guy who gets butcher knifed in Gangs of New York's fault, too. Goddamn they were bad in that movie. So basically at this point I'm willing to say that you're cool. You're on shaky ground, though.
The original screenplay for "Street Kings" is by James Ellroy, whose nuts most of you know I will ride, much like a cowboy, into the sunset. It was "touched up" by a couple Hollywood monkeys, but the Ellroy comes through, cheese and all.
The action is well shot in a kind of Hype Williams, "Belly" kind of way. I dug it. Lots of blood.
Keanu Reeves does alright. He's a "racist" cop who dresses kind of like an anime nerd. It's bizarre, him being part Chinese and whatnot, spitting the vile, racist, extremely Ellroy dialogue at the beginning, and then having some Koreans kick his ass and call him "white-boy". Then after the first fifteen minutes, he doesn't say or do anything racist at all. Weird.
The rest of the actors are fucking top notch. Common is great, Hugh Laurie is great, and Forest Whitaker is great. I feel like a scene between those last two can perfectly sum up the tone of the movie. Laurie and Whitaker hate each other. Laurie's trying to get dirt on Reeves cause he doesn't play by the rules, and Reeves is on Whitaker's Vice squad. It's kind of like a kid lighting a school on fire, and the kid's mom comes and yells at the principal for punishing her baby.
Anyway, here's how the scene goes:
Forest Whitaker: (walks into Laurie's office) Hey, motherfucker.
Hugh Laurie: Fuck you.
FW: (close up) I got somethin' for you.
HL: Fuuuck you.
FW: (takes his balls out and slaps them on Laurie's desk) What do you think of that, motherfucker?
HL: Eat shit. (takes his balls out and palms them and kind of shrugs. his balls are massive)
FW: Those are some pretty big balls, motherfucker.
HL: Go to hell.
FW: Oh, yeah? Go to hell? (FW begins pissing all over Laurie's office) I'm gonna piss on your blinds, bitch. I'm pissing in your fern right now. Cheap fake shit. Watering your plants, bitch.
HL: (begins pissing on Keanu Reeves) I'm pissing on your butt-boy. Your left ear looks like a Dorito that got left out in the rain.
(Keanu Reeves begins drinking heavily)
KR: We are all so hard-boiled.
(they stop pissing)
FW: I'll see you in hell.
HL: I'll fuck your mother in hell.
Whitaker and Reeves leave. Laurie straightens his tie and calls for a hooker, preferably one who's addicted to crack.
If that doesn't get you hard, I don't know what will. Go see it.
Jimmy and I ascended the stairs to the balcony area. A life size Yoda sat on the bar. I got a 32 oz. mug of Bud Light. I was set. The walls have classic movie shit all over them: King Kong, Star Wars, etc. Between the bathrooms there's a huge signed Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade poster.
The place cost $32 million, and it looks it.
The balcony area in the actual auditorium is fucking class. Eight pairs of seats across and four rows deep, with enough room between rows so the motherfuckers behind you can stretch out without kicking the back of your chair. You can order off the menu sitting at the table in front of you. All you have to do is press the red call button. If you're cold, by the way, this other little button will warm your chair up. The padding is straight NASA. Plush as fuck.
It's about a ten-minute drive from my house. I'm going to see everything there.
The picture is fucking gorgeous. The sound is immense. And it helps that the movie we saw was tits, also.
"Street Kings" is the fucking shit. It's directed by David Ayer, who wrote "Training Day" and "Harsh Times". This flick almost pulls him out of the shit for co-writing "The Fast and the Furious" and "touching up" "SWAT". I understand, dude, you had to get paid. But I still have a chip on my shoulder about "Dark Blue". Because that was Ellroy, and your screenplay fucked it up, bad. But it was Kurt Russell and that guy who gets butcher knifed in Gangs of New York's fault, too. Goddamn they were bad in that movie. So basically at this point I'm willing to say that you're cool. You're on shaky ground, though.
The original screenplay for "Street Kings" is by James Ellroy, whose nuts most of you know I will ride, much like a cowboy, into the sunset. It was "touched up" by a couple Hollywood monkeys, but the Ellroy comes through, cheese and all.
The action is well shot in a kind of Hype Williams, "Belly" kind of way. I dug it. Lots of blood.
Keanu Reeves does alright. He's a "racist" cop who dresses kind of like an anime nerd. It's bizarre, him being part Chinese and whatnot, spitting the vile, racist, extremely Ellroy dialogue at the beginning, and then having some Koreans kick his ass and call him "white-boy". Then after the first fifteen minutes, he doesn't say or do anything racist at all. Weird.
The rest of the actors are fucking top notch. Common is great, Hugh Laurie is great, and Forest Whitaker is great. I feel like a scene between those last two can perfectly sum up the tone of the movie. Laurie and Whitaker hate each other. Laurie's trying to get dirt on Reeves cause he doesn't play by the rules, and Reeves is on Whitaker's Vice squad. It's kind of like a kid lighting a school on fire, and the kid's mom comes and yells at the principal for punishing her baby.
Anyway, here's how the scene goes:
Forest Whitaker: (walks into Laurie's office) Hey, motherfucker.
Hugh Laurie: Fuck you.
FW: (close up) I got somethin' for you.
HL: Fuuuck you.
FW: (takes his balls out and slaps them on Laurie's desk) What do you think of that, motherfucker?
HL: Eat shit. (takes his balls out and palms them and kind of shrugs. his balls are massive)
FW: Those are some pretty big balls, motherfucker.
HL: Go to hell.
FW: Oh, yeah? Go to hell? (FW begins pissing all over Laurie's office) I'm gonna piss on your blinds, bitch. I'm pissing in your fern right now. Cheap fake shit. Watering your plants, bitch.
HL: (begins pissing on Keanu Reeves) I'm pissing on your butt-boy. Your left ear looks like a Dorito that got left out in the rain.
(Keanu Reeves begins drinking heavily)
KR: We are all so hard-boiled.
(they stop pissing)
FW: I'll see you in hell.
HL: I'll fuck your mother in hell.
Whitaker and Reeves leave. Laurie straightens his tie and calls for a hooker, preferably one who's addicted to crack.
If that doesn't get you hard, I don't know what will. Go see it.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
drunk ramble
Today Rios left for an adventure in New Orleans. I'm missing out on V-day, and all the things that go along with it: fierceness, rampant militant lesbianism, Salma Hayek, pregnant Jessica Alba (she's SPAWNING), and Common.
Leaving me at home. With pooch.
I dropped Rios off at her friend's house in Elgin. Went to visit Mom then realized I'd left the door locked at home, meaning Jimmy couldn't get in because he lost his key. This meant a drive back to Norman. So now I'm here, and lonely.
Lonely?
Yes, lonely. For the first time in a long time, I feel lonely.
Perhaps you'd like a beer?
No, I couldn't.
C'mon. It's Bud Light. It'll love you. You don't even have to deal with excess calories.
Okay, fine.
Loneliness = taken care of.
Kahlua is in love with her Kong. It's a rubber toy in which I squeeze peanut butter paste. Special Kong-brand peanut butter, of course, to promote a healthy coat and teeth. She chews on it even when there's nothing in it. She wakes me up by dropping it on my face. It smells like a horny peanut's used condom.
I also bought her grown up dog food for the first time. She's growing up. Soon she'll be going to soccer practice and loading up my computer with porn and beating someone nearly to death and videotaping it and putting on Youtube.
Y'all hear about that? Google: 6 on 1, bitches, beating, teenager, youtube, crime.
You might find what I'm talking about.
It's stormy outside. Storms equal tornadoes, but you just learn to ignore it. It was raining this morning. I was sweeping in the back at Kirkland's where the rain hits the tin of our roof and gets loud. I'd pop the back door to check it out every once in a while. I like sweeping.
So I was back there and Bill O'Reilly is on. I like Bill O'Reilly, I think I've explained this before. I haven't seen his TV show in a long while, but on the radio O'Reilly is articulate and analytical, and doing his best to be unbiased (though he is).
His callers, however, are butt-fucking retarded.
"I heard that in college Michelle Obama wrote socialist papers."
"I heard that Barack Obama refuses to pledge allegiance to the United States of America."
"I saw Barack Obama on Oprah and he said he had Parkinson's."
And on and on. And O'Reilly debunks them and degrades all of them, all the time championing not necessarily Obama, but his own fairness.
Some of you may think that O'Reilly is using these callers to show his "true point of view." Or to just get these rumors radio play so that they disseminate regardless of fact. And there may be truth to that. O'Reilly knows that people will only hear what they want to, and many people will take this woman's statement, "Barack Obama will not pledge allegiance to the flag", and run with it. But at the same time there's that Dennett quote: "There's nothing I hate more than a poor argument for a stance I hold dear" or something. A part of me thinks O'Reilly is not only trying to quell some of the more ridiculous rumors, he's also sending a subliminal message: I'm a conservative, but I'm not one of these people.
Or he's doing a little bit of all of that. That's probably it.
Hola, senor. Somos los cervezas de Easter que tu se olvido. Tome una bebida. Permaneceremos contigo y te haremos no solo.
Oh, Coronas. How could I forget you? Donde estan mis limons?
Is there a better Spanish word for lonely?
A lady came into Kirkland's the other day. Didn't speak ANY English. So I was going to tell her about our backdoor pickup, because she had a lot of bags.
And I choked. No words came out. I just started signing like an idiot. She said, "Sorry, my ingles is no good." And Tiffany was like, "Choke."
As soon as she left I thought of a million things I could have said. I said them over and over in my head, burning them into my memory. I won't choke next time.
I need some real world Spanish. Entiendo mas que yo hablo.
I did the same shit when I lived in Germany. Three years I lived there. Picked up a lot of German. NEVER SPOKE IT. Too scared. Cold feet. Erschrocken.
Fuck.
Maybe I should move to Mexico City. Force myself to speak the shit.
Tapout clothes are gay. If you don't fight, don't wear Tapout. Don't put the decal on your car. Don't get your Tapout hoodie. You're sending a message with that shit. You know it, and I know it, so let's cut the "I'm just a UFC fan" horse shit. Same with the Fox racing gear, people. All of you don't own bikes, or race. So quit frontin'. If you are fat as fuck or skinny and weak, you are not using Tapout gear except in this one occasion.
If you're a badass, however, you can wear whateverthefuck.
Has anyone made a Tappedthat hoodie yet? In the Tapout letters? You know that shit's coming. Or the Jesus version? Like how they took the Orange County choppers logo and put Jesus shit on it? It doesn't have to make sense. It can just say "Prayer" in the Tapout letters and people will buy it.
There's something about driving in the rain with the wipers going and your lights reflecting off the puddles and the frame of your car rattling at 90 mph that makes you want to listen to an angry Evangelical preacher on the radio. When the light glows under a storm cloud and illuminates the sky and there's a pissed-off white man screaming about hell-fire in radio-voice over the sound of the storm, it just gives you this fear. This awesome apocalyptic fear that makes you feel badass just being there to feel it.
I heard this chick preacher on the radio. I was scanning and I stopped because you don't hear it every day. She was preaching about shopping. She said something like, "I was shopping with this lady friend of mine, and we were in a mall, and we passed a store, and she said, 'I could never shop there.' Ladies, am I right? Have you been there? I couldn't help but think, why couldn't this woman turn this into something faith-positive? Why couldn't she say, "I could shop in that store any day I wanted to, but I choose not to today.'"
I laughed until I cried. Kahlua sat dutifully next to me and stared out the window and I scanned until I found a preacher screaming about dying women in Africa and Bertrand Russell.
It's really getting going out there. Goodnight.
Leaving me at home. With pooch.
I dropped Rios off at her friend's house in Elgin. Went to visit Mom then realized I'd left the door locked at home, meaning Jimmy couldn't get in because he lost his key. This meant a drive back to Norman. So now I'm here, and lonely.
Lonely?
Yes, lonely. For the first time in a long time, I feel lonely.
Perhaps you'd like a beer?
No, I couldn't.
C'mon. It's Bud Light. It'll love you. You don't even have to deal with excess calories.
Okay, fine.
Loneliness = taken care of.
Kahlua is in love with her Kong. It's a rubber toy in which I squeeze peanut butter paste. Special Kong-brand peanut butter, of course, to promote a healthy coat and teeth. She chews on it even when there's nothing in it. She wakes me up by dropping it on my face. It smells like a horny peanut's used condom.
I also bought her grown up dog food for the first time. She's growing up. Soon she'll be going to soccer practice and loading up my computer with porn and beating someone nearly to death and videotaping it and putting on Youtube.
Y'all hear about that? Google: 6 on 1, bitches, beating, teenager, youtube, crime.
You might find what I'm talking about.
It's stormy outside. Storms equal tornadoes, but you just learn to ignore it. It was raining this morning. I was sweeping in the back at Kirkland's where the rain hits the tin of our roof and gets loud. I'd pop the back door to check it out every once in a while. I like sweeping.
So I was back there and Bill O'Reilly is on. I like Bill O'Reilly, I think I've explained this before. I haven't seen his TV show in a long while, but on the radio O'Reilly is articulate and analytical, and doing his best to be unbiased (though he is).
His callers, however, are butt-fucking retarded.
"I heard that in college Michelle Obama wrote socialist papers."
"I heard that Barack Obama refuses to pledge allegiance to the United States of America."
"I saw Barack Obama on Oprah and he said he had Parkinson's."
And on and on. And O'Reilly debunks them and degrades all of them, all the time championing not necessarily Obama, but his own fairness.
Some of you may think that O'Reilly is using these callers to show his "true point of view." Or to just get these rumors radio play so that they disseminate regardless of fact. And there may be truth to that. O'Reilly knows that people will only hear what they want to, and many people will take this woman's statement, "Barack Obama will not pledge allegiance to the flag", and run with it. But at the same time there's that Dennett quote: "There's nothing I hate more than a poor argument for a stance I hold dear" or something. A part of me thinks O'Reilly is not only trying to quell some of the more ridiculous rumors, he's also sending a subliminal message: I'm a conservative, but I'm not one of these people.
Or he's doing a little bit of all of that. That's probably it.
Hola, senor. Somos los cervezas de Easter que tu se olvido. Tome una bebida. Permaneceremos contigo y te haremos no solo.
Oh, Coronas. How could I forget you? Donde estan mis limons?
Is there a better Spanish word for lonely?
A lady came into Kirkland's the other day. Didn't speak ANY English. So I was going to tell her about our backdoor pickup, because she had a lot of bags.
And I choked. No words came out. I just started signing like an idiot. She said, "Sorry, my ingles is no good." And Tiffany was like, "Choke."
As soon as she left I thought of a million things I could have said. I said them over and over in my head, burning them into my memory. I won't choke next time.
I need some real world Spanish. Entiendo mas que yo hablo.
I did the same shit when I lived in Germany. Three years I lived there. Picked up a lot of German. NEVER SPOKE IT. Too scared. Cold feet. Erschrocken.
Fuck.
Maybe I should move to Mexico City. Force myself to speak the shit.
Tapout clothes are gay. If you don't fight, don't wear Tapout. Don't put the decal on your car. Don't get your Tapout hoodie. You're sending a message with that shit. You know it, and I know it, so let's cut the "I'm just a UFC fan" horse shit. Same with the Fox racing gear, people. All of you don't own bikes, or race. So quit frontin'. If you are fat as fuck or skinny and weak, you are not using Tapout gear except in this one occasion.
If you're a badass, however, you can wear whateverthefuck.
Has anyone made a Tappedthat hoodie yet? In the Tapout letters? You know that shit's coming. Or the Jesus version? Like how they took the Orange County choppers logo and put Jesus shit on it? It doesn't have to make sense. It can just say "Prayer" in the Tapout letters and people will buy it.
There's something about driving in the rain with the wipers going and your lights reflecting off the puddles and the frame of your car rattling at 90 mph that makes you want to listen to an angry Evangelical preacher on the radio. When the light glows under a storm cloud and illuminates the sky and there's a pissed-off white man screaming about hell-fire in radio-voice over the sound of the storm, it just gives you this fear. This awesome apocalyptic fear that makes you feel badass just being there to feel it.
I heard this chick preacher on the radio. I was scanning and I stopped because you don't hear it every day. She was preaching about shopping. She said something like, "I was shopping with this lady friend of mine, and we were in a mall, and we passed a store, and she said, 'I could never shop there.' Ladies, am I right? Have you been there? I couldn't help but think, why couldn't this woman turn this into something faith-positive? Why couldn't she say, "I could shop in that store any day I wanted to, but I choose not to today.'"
I laughed until I cried. Kahlua sat dutifully next to me and stared out the window and I scanned until I found a preacher screaming about dying women in Africa and Bertrand Russell.
It's really getting going out there. Goodnight.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
the new mars volta album is quite good...
...but I'm still not used to Omar's in-your-face style of production. Most of these songs are little armies, full of personality and life, that are constantly bombarded by some fire breathing alien life form, smashing drums and squealing horns.
Clarification, maybe: every single song on this album is great. It's a wonderful album. But my brain kind of works like this:
Put album in CD player. Start car. Wish I had a good sound system besides the one in the car. Begin to drive. HOLY SHIT music. This is loud. And it's kind of...okay, it's definitely loud. I like it, it's nifty. I wish there was a song here...oh there it is. And it is MIGHTY FINE. Yes this is good, keep going with the...ah, it's loud again. Man, this guy pounds the shit out of his drums. He's fucking good. Okay, whenever the song does this, I'm gonna listen to the drums because this guy is fucking great. Okay...here comes the noise...wow. I wish I wasn't wasting so much gas. I saw a funny T-shirt today that said "Some Blood for Oil." Haha. It's so true. I love having gas in the car. Hey this sounds different. Check CD player. Oh, this is song two. Wow, that was SEAMLESS. And it's still noisy. Hm hm hm. Tap fingers on the steering wheel. Air drum. This guy just keeps going, does he do this live? Cedric's voice is good. Oh music I can understand again. Alright, sweet.
And on and on. Cedric talking in a robot voice makes me sit up and pay attention. The mad grooves on this album, they make me giddy. I like them. And most of the album is this way. I have a feeling that after a few more listens I'll be able to sift through that strange manic alien sound machine that keeps coming down to fuck with the songs. Find out maybe that there's a lot of interesting and unique things going on there, too. Or maybe not, whatever. Point being: "The Bedlam in Goliath" is really very good, their best since "De-loused", and it will maybe take up more time in my CD player than Lupe Fiasco's "The Cool" and Unkle's "War Room". Maybe.
Currently reading: "Tree of Smoke" by Denis Johnson
Clarification, maybe: every single song on this album is great. It's a wonderful album. But my brain kind of works like this:
Put album in CD player. Start car. Wish I had a good sound system besides the one in the car. Begin to drive. HOLY SHIT music. This is loud. And it's kind of...okay, it's definitely loud. I like it, it's nifty. I wish there was a song here...oh there it is. And it is MIGHTY FINE. Yes this is good, keep going with the...ah, it's loud again. Man, this guy pounds the shit out of his drums. He's fucking good. Okay, whenever the song does this, I'm gonna listen to the drums because this guy is fucking great. Okay...here comes the noise...wow. I wish I wasn't wasting so much gas. I saw a funny T-shirt today that said "Some Blood for Oil." Haha. It's so true. I love having gas in the car. Hey this sounds different. Check CD player. Oh, this is song two. Wow, that was SEAMLESS. And it's still noisy. Hm hm hm. Tap fingers on the steering wheel. Air drum. This guy just keeps going, does he do this live? Cedric's voice is good. Oh music I can understand again. Alright, sweet.
And on and on. Cedric talking in a robot voice makes me sit up and pay attention. The mad grooves on this album, they make me giddy. I like them. And most of the album is this way. I have a feeling that after a few more listens I'll be able to sift through that strange manic alien sound machine that keeps coming down to fuck with the songs. Find out maybe that there's a lot of interesting and unique things going on there, too. Or maybe not, whatever. Point being: "The Bedlam in Goliath" is really very good, their best since "De-loused", and it will maybe take up more time in my CD player than Lupe Fiasco's "The Cool" and Unkle's "War Room". Maybe.
Currently reading: "Tree of Smoke" by Denis Johnson
Sunday, January 27, 2008
1/27/08
I'm pretty sure watching SNL play worldless on a tiny TV screen was a defense mechanism. Until I acclimated I kept my eyes on a steady track, float down to the TV screen, up to the poster on the wall, down to Rios, say something, look at Shelly saying something, look at Katie saying something, back to Rios, back to the TV. My throat was closed, the music was loud, I'd have to raise my voice to be heard so I just smiled. The crowd of people shoved their asses into crotches and danced and danced and threw their hands up and went 'oh.' Rap music is loud. Rios had a drink that was green-blue and smelled like Everclear. We asked for no Everclear. When we asked Shelly what it was, she explained that it was Mountain Dew and Everclear. Rios traded it for a red drink with Tequila in it. I had a Keystone Light or Lite, I can't remember. It was cold.
People danced and Rios and I noticed that as soon as a group of girls would start dancing, a young man with shaggy hair would appear out of nowhere, all face and alcohol, and he'd be in the middle of everything, grabbing booty, tits, hips, whatever, and holding his beer in one hand, always.
There was a walkie talkie hanging from the wall and I asked about it and Katie told me, That's random. Random. If you knew the girl who lives here it'd make more sense. Later on that evening, she had a dance off with a black guy that could pop his ass and move over the carpet like it was ice. I was impressed and laughed and I only had two beers the entire time. A group of Air Force guys were there, and one of them had a bluetooth and seemed very small for his clothes and talked how a select group of young white people seem to think young black men talk and sometimes, inexplicably, he would lift his shirt as he was talking, as an exclamation point, almost.
There was beer pong which I did not play. I almost did, for a second, someone needed a partner and I said "okay" and threw one ball before an alpha male in a horrible green shirt that was opened slightly at the top yelled that it was his beer and he and his friend, a young black man who dressed handsomely and who earlier had high fived me and explained that he was smashed son, fuckin smashed, nigga, were going to play. So I sat in one of those fold out camping chairs, made from the kind of material that makes you shiver if you scratch your fingernails over it, and I watched and listened to Rios and Shelly talk and then Rios and I left. We were there for two hours, and this party was like no other one I'd been too. I've been to bigger ones, but never with so many good looking people, so few (that is, none) punks, and no fights or aggressive activity. It was polished, loud, fun, and there were tons of drunk bitches. And it was hot, let me tell you.
People danced and Rios and I noticed that as soon as a group of girls would start dancing, a young man with shaggy hair would appear out of nowhere, all face and alcohol, and he'd be in the middle of everything, grabbing booty, tits, hips, whatever, and holding his beer in one hand, always.
There was a walkie talkie hanging from the wall and I asked about it and Katie told me, That's random. Random. If you knew the girl who lives here it'd make more sense. Later on that evening, she had a dance off with a black guy that could pop his ass and move over the carpet like it was ice. I was impressed and laughed and I only had two beers the entire time. A group of Air Force guys were there, and one of them had a bluetooth and seemed very small for his clothes and talked how a select group of young white people seem to think young black men talk and sometimes, inexplicably, he would lift his shirt as he was talking, as an exclamation point, almost.
There was beer pong which I did not play. I almost did, for a second, someone needed a partner and I said "okay" and threw one ball before an alpha male in a horrible green shirt that was opened slightly at the top yelled that it was his beer and he and his friend, a young black man who dressed handsomely and who earlier had high fived me and explained that he was smashed son, fuckin smashed, nigga, were going to play. So I sat in one of those fold out camping chairs, made from the kind of material that makes you shiver if you scratch your fingernails over it, and I watched and listened to Rios and Shelly talk and then Rios and I left. We were there for two hours, and this party was like no other one I'd been too. I've been to bigger ones, but never with so many good looking people, so few (that is, none) punks, and no fights or aggressive activity. It was polished, loud, fun, and there were tons of drunk bitches. And it was hot, let me tell you.
Friday, January 25, 2008
is daniel plainview really evil?
2007 has given me two of my favorite movies.
There Will Be Blood was fucking awesome. Excellent. Among many things, including the music, the cinematography, the first appearance of that one guy from "The Mummy" since "The Mummy", Day-Lewis absolutely killed it and turned Daniel Plainview into my new hero. Sorry, Captain Planet.
MEGA SPOILERS FROM HERE DOWN.
I like Rotten Tomatoes, even though their Beta version looks like shit. However, I can't for the life of me understand why their synopsis for this movie calls Plainview "a consummately evil man."
Why was he evil?
Because he hated people? There's nothing inherently evil about misanthropy. It's a preference.
Because he bought up poor farmer's land to use for oil drilling? That's business, people. He never strong armed anyone that I can remember, though he did pay people significantly low sums of money. Which is business. Don't hate the man, hate capitalism, you pussy.
Because he developed a drinking problem? People with drinking problems are evil?
Because he killed the man pretending to be his brother? I'd've popped that fool too.
Because he sent his deaf son away when the kid lit shit on fire? He doesn't know how to handle people, he panicked, and he regretted it. Evil?
Because he called his son a "bastard in a basket"? Come on, the kid was leaving him to start his own business. He was watching maybe the one person he loved become the kind of person he hated most: a competitor. He reacted with alcoholic rage.
And finally, because he murdered that preacher? That tension had been simmering the whole flick. And that little bastard was easily more crooked than Plainview was.
I don't buy him as an evil man. I'm thinking of the scenes where he shows love to his son. The scene where he promises to cut the throat of the man who "tells him how to run his family".
You see his regret at having a brother he never knew. You see his sadness through the annoyance at the revival scene, where the preacher makes him say that he's abandoned his son.
And finally you see it in what I think is the pivotal scene in the movie. The key to understanding his character. Or at least where it dawned for me. When he's in the bar and the important oil men walk in, watch it very carefully. It demonstrates how Daniel's love for his son parallels that of his business, and how the two go hand in hand.
If you take the first scene between Plainview and the oil men, where they are offering to buy his land and where he subsequently turns them down, you'll notice that he becomes enraged at two things: that they feel that he is not capable of building the pipeline, and that he is not capable of dealing with his son.
By the time of the scene in the restaurant, Plainview has successfully built the pipeline, and has brought his son back from exile. He succeeded in one endeavor but not the other. Though he regrets it, he has failed as a father. However, notice as he goes to the oil men's table to gloat about the pipeline, he repeats the line about "telling him how to run his family". That is his focus. Even though his son is bitter toward him, his success as a father is what he brags about. This means many things. One, it shows himself almost trying to convince himself of his worth as a father, and on that note is quite sad. Secondly, and most importantly, it shows that his son is really inseperable from his success at his job. The two are interchangable, both things he wishes to succeed at. Finally, it shows that, as is also demonstrated in the final scene between him and his son, that his son is the face of his success. The cute face that sells his business and makes him successful. And it makes you wonder if that's not why he loves his son so much in the first place.
Yeah.
Go up to the City and watch it. It's awesome.
There Will Be Blood was fucking awesome. Excellent. Among many things, including the music, the cinematography, the first appearance of that one guy from "The Mummy" since "The Mummy", Day-Lewis absolutely killed it and turned Daniel Plainview into my new hero. Sorry, Captain Planet.
MEGA SPOILERS FROM HERE DOWN.
I like Rotten Tomatoes, even though their Beta version looks like shit. However, I can't for the life of me understand why their synopsis for this movie calls Plainview "a consummately evil man."
Why was he evil?
Because he hated people? There's nothing inherently evil about misanthropy. It's a preference.
Because he bought up poor farmer's land to use for oil drilling? That's business, people. He never strong armed anyone that I can remember, though he did pay people significantly low sums of money. Which is business. Don't hate the man, hate capitalism, you pussy.
Because he developed a drinking problem? People with drinking problems are evil?
Because he killed the man pretending to be his brother? I'd've popped that fool too.
Because he sent his deaf son away when the kid lit shit on fire? He doesn't know how to handle people, he panicked, and he regretted it. Evil?
Because he called his son a "bastard in a basket"? Come on, the kid was leaving him to start his own business. He was watching maybe the one person he loved become the kind of person he hated most: a competitor. He reacted with alcoholic rage.
And finally, because he murdered that preacher? That tension had been simmering the whole flick. And that little bastard was easily more crooked than Plainview was.
I don't buy him as an evil man. I'm thinking of the scenes where he shows love to his son. The scene where he promises to cut the throat of the man who "tells him how to run his family".
You see his regret at having a brother he never knew. You see his sadness through the annoyance at the revival scene, where the preacher makes him say that he's abandoned his son.
And finally you see it in what I think is the pivotal scene in the movie. The key to understanding his character. Or at least where it dawned for me. When he's in the bar and the important oil men walk in, watch it very carefully. It demonstrates how Daniel's love for his son parallels that of his business, and how the two go hand in hand.
If you take the first scene between Plainview and the oil men, where they are offering to buy his land and where he subsequently turns them down, you'll notice that he becomes enraged at two things: that they feel that he is not capable of building the pipeline, and that he is not capable of dealing with his son.
By the time of the scene in the restaurant, Plainview has successfully built the pipeline, and has brought his son back from exile. He succeeded in one endeavor but not the other. Though he regrets it, he has failed as a father. However, notice as he goes to the oil men's table to gloat about the pipeline, he repeats the line about "telling him how to run his family". That is his focus. Even though his son is bitter toward him, his success as a father is what he brags about. This means many things. One, it shows himself almost trying to convince himself of his worth as a father, and on that note is quite sad. Secondly, and most importantly, it shows that his son is really inseperable from his success at his job. The two are interchangable, both things he wishes to succeed at. Finally, it shows that, as is also demonstrated in the final scene between him and his son, that his son is the face of his success. The cute face that sells his business and makes him successful. And it makes you wonder if that's not why he loves his son so much in the first place.
Yeah.
Go up to the City and watch it. It's awesome.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
cloverfield first impressions
I don't like writing reviews, I more just ramble. Sorry. If you haven't seen it, don't read this.
"Cloverfield" is sort of clever, and sort of very scary, at least in the beginning. It has no climax really.
The special effects, I hate to say, need improvement. While some of it is great (the night vision bugs, the monster getting bombed, etc.) other scenes look ridiculous (the monster up close).
The acting in any other movie would be considered terrible. So I won't pretend like it's not. It's soap acting and soap panicking and soap running. Okay maybe I made the last part up, but this chick runs from monsters in her heels, I mean come on.
What's good about it is the sense of terror you get watching it. If you suspend the disbelief for even a second, this shit is scary. There were scenes where I had my mouth open.
The black guy next to me informed me that he thought it was wack. I disagreed, but could see where he was coming from.
The bugs look like Starship Trooper bugs.
Nobody said "fuck" once the whole movie. There was some R gore, though, for sure. How they got away with the soldier's open chest cavity and the chick exploding I'll never know.
Who would have thought that the only survivor would be the brother's girlfriend?
What did you guys think?
"Cloverfield" is sort of clever, and sort of very scary, at least in the beginning. It has no climax really.
The special effects, I hate to say, need improvement. While some of it is great (the night vision bugs, the monster getting bombed, etc.) other scenes look ridiculous (the monster up close).
The acting in any other movie would be considered terrible. So I won't pretend like it's not. It's soap acting and soap panicking and soap running. Okay maybe I made the last part up, but this chick runs from monsters in her heels, I mean come on.
What's good about it is the sense of terror you get watching it. If you suspend the disbelief for even a second, this shit is scary. There were scenes where I had my mouth open.
The black guy next to me informed me that he thought it was wack. I disagreed, but could see where he was coming from.
The bugs look like Starship Trooper bugs.
Nobody said "fuck" once the whole movie. There was some R gore, though, for sure. How they got away with the soldier's open chest cavity and the chick exploding I'll never know.
Who would have thought that the only survivor would be the brother's girlfriend?
What did you guys think?
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