7/18/2010

I Am Home Again: A Play In One Act

(THOMAS and DAD sit watching BOO, a cat, play with the plastic portion of the string on a window curtain.)

THOMAS: Silly Boo-Boo! Silly Boo-Boo! Whatchoo doin' with that string? Huh? (to DAD) Is he allowed to do this?

DAD: As long as he doesn't chew on the plastic parts. He likes to chew on the balls.

(THOMAS and DAD look at each other. Neither can realize if the other person realizes the full implications of what has just been said.)

CURTAIN.

7/17/2010

Oh Hi, Movie

I saw a midnight screening of The Room at the Music Box Theater yesterday. It was something like the fifth or sixth time I've seen the movie, but the first time I've ever seen it in a theater. And let me tell you: it was an experience.

The house was packed and rowdy. Apparently there's a whole Rocky Horror-esque subculture devoted to The Room, which I guess means (among other things) shouting out little jokes when you see certain scenes. For instance, every time a shot of San Francisco appears, a significant portion of the crowd burst into the Full House theme. Whenever Denny entered a scene, the crowd alternated between shouting "Oh hi Denny!" and applauding like we were on the set of some fucked up sitcom. And let's not forget the spoons. Every time Johnny and Lisa's infamous framed photographs of framed spoons appeared in a scene (maybe one of the most mystifying things about the movie, if you ask me), the audience happily shouted "SPOONS!" and tossed plastic spoons at the screen.

The most bizarre thing about the whole experience would have to be the general vibe. It was somewhere between reverence for the film and the desire to tear the thing apart, Lisa. I'm reminded of the first moment that Tommy Wiseau appeared onscreen. The crowd burst into applause in laughter, a reaction somewhere between "Thank you for making this movie!" and "Your movie fucking sucks!"

The only two gripes I have was the fact that it was a little difficult to hear some really wonderful lines over the crowd's shouting. There was also a group of high school kids who were kind of on the annoying side. But I think that's a small price to pay for one of the most bizarre experiences I've ever had in a movie theater.

7/16/2010

The Art Question

I saw the movie Dogtooth last night. It was really good, but, frankly, the weirdest film I've ever seen. On top of that, it has to be one of the most twisted I've ever seen, too, though it did have its moments of (intentional) levity.

It was the first time I've ever gone to see a movie by myself. That was probably a good choice. It is one of those movies that is best processed via stunned silence rather than discussion with a friend.

Nevertheless I still heard other people chatting amongst themselves as they left the theater. Common reactions included, "Uh...", "Well." and, "So that just happened." But there was one couple that was having a particularly intense discussion. They both seemed pretty shocked by the film, so much to the point that they were questioning whether or not it was a work of art.

The question "What is art?" is one I've given a lot of thought to over the past few years of my life, between my creative work and my (albeit brief) time at Shimer. And a few months ago I finally came up with an answer to the question that satisfies me.

Q: What is art?
A: I don't give a shit.

It seems glib, sure, but let me explain a little bit more.

I believe that the question "what is art?" is vague and nebulous at best. Though it has a tendency to spawn some interesting discussions, any possible attempts at answers also tend to be vague and nebulous in turn.

But it's not so much the unanswerability of the question that bothers me. Don't get me wrong there; I like unanswerable questions. That's one of the reasons I like to read and make stuff. What really turns me off about the art question is that it hasn't really helped me creatively. Though I've had a number of great dialogues, internal and external, about the nature of what makes a piece of art a piece of art, I can't recall ever using them in any creative process I've undergone.

A better question, I think - that is, if you're looking for a question that will enhance your creative process - is: what makes a [THING YOU'RE WORKING ON] great? (And you'd best not replace "thing you're working on" with "piece of art"; that'll just take you back to square one.)

Asking the art question, to me, is like recreational hunting. I understand why people do it and I suppose I can respect their reasons for it. But I don't really have any interest in doing it myself.

Who knows? Maybe I'm jumping the gun here. Maybe I'll have or overhear some discussion that causes me to radically rethink my position on the whole matter of the art question. I'm certainly not adverse to that. Just kind of skeptical.

7/15/2010

Something I Witnessed Recently

There are a lot of dog owners near my apartment. Lots of them like to go on walks.

On my way back from class a couple of days ago I saw a man walking his bulldog. The man was pretty normal looking. Maybe "normal" isn't the right word. (I think "unremarkable" would be better.) The bulldog seemed pretty happy.

Some people say things to their dogs as they go on walks. Stuff like, "Who's a good boy?" or "It's hot out here, isn't it?" Ditto with this guy. And he was looking down at his dog and saying stuff like:

"...so my buddy's getting a divorce from his wife, but she wants custody of the kids. Can you believe that? Given how she's always working? And I mean, that's one of the reasons they got into all this trouble. Because she's always at work. I just feel bad for the kids, you know? So anyway, he called his lawyer and he said..."

And the dog was saying stuff like:

"[PANT PANT PANT SNORT PANT PANT]"

It wasn't until after I walked past the man that I realized he had a Bluetooth headset. Which was both reassuring and disappointing.

7/11/2010

Something I Have Been Thinking About Lately

On the El the other day, I saw a sign in front of a laundromat. The sign was advertising the new washers they had just got - "55 lbs!" the sign bragged.

My question: does washer weight indicate how effective a washer is? Or does it indicate something else entirely? Is 55 pounds heavy or light for a washer? If it's light, does that mean that it's more energy efficient?

I guess what I'm trying to ask is: did knowing the washer weight cause people to patronize that laundromat?

Forgive me if this seems banal or silly. Maybe my knowledge about washing machines isn't as comprehensive as yours.

7/02/2010

Films of June 2010

Last month I posted about my summer goal to watch at least fifteen movies a month, which is roughly a movie every other day. My rationale is that I feel like I haven't seen as many movies as the average person. On top of that, I feel like there are a lot of pop cultural gaps that I've got that could use some filling.

In May I managed to make it just above my minimum of fifteen films. This month I did a heck of a lot better than before, tallying up about twenty five films. Without further ado, here's a rundown of them all.

A quick note about the order so I don't get into digressions like last time. The rankings here represent how much I enjoyed the film. Not how great the film is considered by scholars or the AFI to be - it's all a matter of enjoyment. Number one is the one that I liked the best, while the bottom indicates…well, the bottom. Numbers that are close to one another have a good chance of being interchangeable, though.

1. Twelve Angry Men - It's been a while since I've seen a five-star film. You know. The kind of movie that leaves you feeling afterwards like watching any other is going to be a waste of time compared to what you just saw. The plot of the film is pretty basic - twelve guys arguing about whether or not a kid is guilty - as is the direction and cinematography. But the acting and the script is anything but. One of my new favorites.

2. Strangers on a Train - Alfred Hitchcock has still got it. I don't mean that literally of course. He's dead. What I mean is that his films still hold up. They're still thrilling, clever, and very very funny. Case in point: this movie. And on top of that, you've got one of Hitchcock's most frightening and charming villians and some of his best shots ever.

3. The Day the Earth Stood Still - The one from the early 50s. Not the one with Keanu Reeves. I have no desire to see the latter. And frankly, I was surprised that this one was made so early. For one thing, the special effects are pretty good for their time. And for another, the film's main theme - that humanity might be too strong for its own good - manages to hit so hard today that I can only imagine what sort of reaction it got from audiences not long after the wake of World War II.

4. Up In The Air - Jason Reitman, the man responsible for directing Thank You For Smoking and Juno, is now officially three for three. I'm not sure if he can get a Pixar streak going on - you know, getting to a point where he never ever makes a bad movie - but so far he's doing a really damn good job. Up In The Air might be the best of his work so far. It more or less epitomizes the kind of moments he creates. Scenes are tender without being sentimental or schlocky; moments are witty without being insincere or overly cynical. Reitman is damn good at balancing.

5. The Informant! - From the first ten minutes I didn't think I was going to like this one very much. "Oh, hey. It's Matt Damon playing a naive idiot who likes to make believe he's a secret agent." But I gotta admit: the character grew on me. And just when I was really staring to like him, the film takes a surprising turn - and everything you thought about Damon's character just flips. A wonderful film about greed and the relativity of goodness. And keep on the lookout for a cameo by a bizarrely sedate Patton Oswalt.

6. Toy Story 3 - Is it better than Toy Story 2? Hell no. Is it better than the first Toy Story? Probably not. Well, maybe. But probably not. But is it better than any other "family" film out there right now? I'd put money on that. Let me make something clear, though: don't let the hype sweep you up too much. This is a great movie - and yes, I can name at least two moments in which I started to tear up - but Pixar has done better than this.

7. Where The Wild Things Are - I think this one is supposed to be a family film, too. But it's really, really dark. I can't remember ever seeing a family film about what happens when you realize that your parents aren't infallible, nor can I remember seeing a family film with an affixation on the notion of mortality. Okay, okay. I'm making this sound like a gloom and doom fest. But it's really not. It's a wonderful movie. Props to Dave Eggers for writing dialogue that embodies the spirit of a rambunctious kid to a T.

8. Knocked Up - My expectations were low for this one. I thought that The 40 Year Old Virgin was okay, but by no means great. Maybe that's why I ended up enjoying this one so much. A nice combo of tenderness and gross-out humor. And also: Judd Apatow is really good at capturing many twenty-something guys in their natural element, which is to say gleefully immature.

9. Modern Times - I've never been a huge Chaplin fan. But this film is making me turn around. As far as plot or story goes, there's nothing groundbreaking going on here. But as far as comedic moments go, well…it's pretty damn amazing. And the goofiness and joy of Chaplin's Nonsense Song scene is totally infectious.

10. The Jerk - I watched the first twenty minutes of this one a few years ago and wasn't a fan. But I was younger and more serious then. (A weird phrase, I know. But trust me.) Now that I've loosened up a bit more, I really enjoyed this one. There is some sublime goofiness going on. And the scene in which Steve Martin's character sings "Tonight You Belong To Me" with his girlfriend while playing the ukelele is more than just the setup to a bizarre joke. It's an adorable scene in its own right.

11. An American Werewolf In London - For a John Landis comedy, there's some pretty heavy shit going on here. The protagonist becomes a werewolf and is haunted by the ghost of his dead best friend. And the solution to allowing his friend's soul to finally rest? Let's just say it's morbid and very dark. But still - this is a very enjoyable film. Great soundtrack and amazing special effects work. And the ending is one of the most "HOLY SHIT" moments I've had watching movies in a long time.

12. Lost In Translation - Critics gushed all over this film. It was good, sure, but I couldn't find a whole lot to like about it beyond some very entertaning vingettes regarding the absurdities and frusteration that comes from living in another country. Worth checking out.

13. Cars - I still believe that Pixar can do no wrong. But this is probably the closest they've ever come to that. It's by no means a bad film, but it's not brilliant, either. It's very, very "eh." Probably the most "eh" film Pixar has made. Again, though, it's a hell of a lot better than most of the so-called family films out there.

14. Bad Boys - I can't say that I expected to like this one as much as I did. Yes, the film has its share of cliches and cop/buddy/action movie tropes. But it's still a hell of a lot of fun, not to mention funny. And intentionally funny, too. By the end it succumbs to standard let's-blow-shit-up fare, but the ride that leads up to it is pretty damn enjoyable, at least.

15. Run Lola Run - Speaking of rides: Run Lola Run. Exciting? Yes. Funny? At times. Interesting? Generally. Style? Lots. Substance? Well, not so much.

16. Wayne's World - Of all the genres, comedy is probably the one that ages the worst. But Wayne's World still works pretty well. It's by no means brilliant, but the running time is perfect and the gags still hold their own.

17. The Evil Dead - Much in the same way that Bad Boys is a prime stereotypical action/cop/buddy movie, The Evil Dead is a prime stereotypical horror film. Teenagers in a cabin in the woods. No-names playing lead roles. And massive amounts of gross-looking food repurposed as gore. And it's still fun to watch, especially in a group.

18. This Film Is Not Yet Rated - I think I expressed my qualms about documentaries trying to persuade you of an opinion in my last movie post. Whenever I watch them, I always get the impression that I'm not getting the full story and just what the director wants me to see. The same sort of thing applies here. While there are certainly some valid points made throughout the film (and actually caused the MPAA to make some changes in the way they rate films), my same qualms apply here.

19. Being There - There's a particular type of comedy that requires a lot of suspension of disbelief. It's that kind of movie that has hundreds of happy coincidences - characters who happen to be at the right place at the right time, characters who happen to speak just ambiguously enough so that these coincidences can continue to flourish. When all is said and done it's up to the viewer as to whether or not these happy coincidences all work. While this is a fine movie - and Peter Sellers is sublime as Chance the gardener - there are a LOT of happy coincidences in this movie.

20. Harvey - And somehow those happy coincidences are even more frustrating in Harvey. I really wanted to like this film a lot, but the first two thirds are a little too goofy and happy coincidence-y for my taste. The last third, though, is pretty poignant, albeit saccharine filled. And James Stewart is amazing here.

21. Fantastic Mr. Fox - There's something about Wes Anderson's movies that don't quite do it for me. After I watch a Wes Anderson movie, I feel a little unfulfilled; not like I've just wasted my time, but like I could have had a fine film-viewing life without seeing that movie he'd just made. Same thing applies here. Beautiful animation and some clever lines of dialogue, but all in all, things just seem…empty.

22. American Psycho - Speaking of empty: Christian Bale does a fine job as a psychopathic yuppie, but behind all of the shock and gore, the film's message isn't handled all that deftly. On top of that, there's not a whole lot of depth to the film's protagonist. Compelling portraits of psychopaths have been done much better from A Clockwork Orange to Dexter. Maybe there's more to the book - and I'm still willing to check that out, by the way - but the movie just feels a little incomplete.

23. There's Something About Mary - I'm sure this is a fine gross-out comedy. But I learned something while watching this one: I don't like gross-out comedies. Nor did I like this one. The gags just didn't do it for me, and when you get rid of the gags, this movie doesn't have a whole lot going for it, aside from some wonderful work by Jonathan Richman. Then again I'm a little biased when it comes to all things Richman.

24. Birdemic: Shock and Terror - This is not a "so bad it's good" film like The Room. It's just a bad movie, plain and simple. There's only one way to really enjoy this movie: remove any ounce of sobriety from your body and shout things at the screen with a few friends.