I haven't been sleeping very well lately. It's been especially hard to get my mind to quiet down at night, and when I do get to sleep I seem to be having an inordinate amount of awful dreams. It's starting to take its toll, as I'm getting tired in the afternoons all the time, and then taking naps, which only exacerbates the problem. The only thing that seems to help a little is the occasional drink, but I've got no desire to start self-medicating in any fashion to sleep better, which means I have to get to the root of what's stressing me out to begin with.
To start with, September and October are not traditionally good months for me. The prospect of football, cool weather, hoodies, apple cider and my birthday are outweighed by the seeming tendency to lose friends, either literally or figuratively during this time of year. Plus, this is the fifth anniversary of Dave's death this year, which is crazy. I can't believe it's already been five years; and that I'm more or less in the same spot I was back then when it happened. Granted, I've managed to have a couple of interesting experiences, moved down to Maryland, and am in a much better emotional place than I was when that all happened; but on some levels I can't help but feel like I'm treading water. So, I'm sure part of dealing with this will be trying to keep positive, and working hard to get things like appealing to Rutgers, applying for new jobs, and exploring transfers if Rutgers doesn't pan out on my radar. Getting those things done should be a boost to the self-esteem and the overall ability to sleep well.
Speaking of feeling better, while my neck is stiff as hell right now from lifting weights this morning, it's not an all-together terrible thing. I need to be a lot stricter with myself on food and exercise. I feel better when I'm eating well (to say nothing of the benefit it has on my wallet), and hitting the gym regularly really does wonders for my energy levels, disposition, and ability to sleep soundly. If I can keep a regular schedule of going 5 days a week, I should start seeing some serious progress for myself physically, and start being better rested and more energetic during the day.
Though, even with the added hours in the gym, I need to start doing something with the bulk of my free time (once the applications and such are done, mind). I'm not pursuing anything creative, and that always has a tendency to make me feel lousy. Whether I tune the bass and start playing regularly; get serious about putting together a story or screen play; or find a way to start building something without spending all my money, I need to find a good outlet. An hour or two of videogames and reading books is fun, but just not cutting it anymore.
Though maybe getting a second job would be smart for me. I'd want to try to find something that wouldn't drive me too crazy, but still; the extra money and the time would both be good things. Mostly, I want to spend the next six months saving up for a good deposit were I to find a new apartment, and paying down my bills. Even with Christmas presents, birthdays, and not become an ascetic monk, I should be able to salt away a good amount of cash. And having the freedom to get out of renting my Aunt's basement and finding a place of my own would be huge. Particularly if said place is open to the idea of friendly pets.
Lastly, though certainly not least, I need to figure out what's going on with the current romantic-standings of my life. Seeing Marie has been great; I really love spending time with her, and even though things have been (what seems to me) exceptionally rough lately, I'm happy with her, and really wish I could be doing more to help. But, I can't honestly say I know what she feels about us, or whether I'm just a pleasant place-holder until she gets to a better spot in life. I don't think that's truth, mind; but my neuroses sure like to point out the possibility. Probably doesn't help that I've been moodier and withdrawn lately, and a little stressed about being tight on funds because of a change in HR policies at work, but nevertheless... it's hard to not know whether someone you care about takes you seriously, or to really know how they see you at all. And I certainly haven't made things easier by not asking or talking about it (which I plan to do, asap), but it's definitely played a prominent role in the lack of sleep and bad dreams department. I don't think I need or want things to change, necessarily (though a return of our more amorous behaivor from the current sabbatical would be most welcome); it would be helpful to know what's going on.
So, that seems like a solid game plan to me. Step 1, get things done with school & job upgrades. Step 2, stick to a stricter dietary & work-out plan: it results in feeling better, looking better, and sleeping better. Step 3, save money and budget with an eye towards having enough money to move out with in six months time (approximately). Step 4, get serious about a creative outlet, be it music/writing/or building something. Step 5, talk with Marie and let her know where I am, and ask her where she is. No sense being a pussy about it and trying to nip around the edges.
so glad nobody reads this thing, so I won't have to worry about hearing about it. But still, it's a good way to enumerate it all for myself, and have something to look at to keep on track. Updates to follow, perhaps. We shall see.
13 September 2009
05 August 2009
A thoroughly incredible day
I know the word incredible has been watered-down in our everyday language. It's one of those adjectives that is so overused we forget what its original meaning and impact are. A quick definition looked up online defines incredible as: so extraordinary as to seem impossible; unbelievable.
So, with the full weight of the word's original meaning and intent in mind, I tell you that today really has been a thoroughly incredible day for me.
It started around midnight, when I was feeling profoundly nervous and convinced that things were not about to go well in a conversation I had been asked to go have. And while aspects of that conversation may have been sobering and pointed, with good cause, the end result was a moment of realized desires and happiness that I had not expected at all. Or, if I were to be less of a windbag about it, I went to go see a lovely woman who I thought was either about to put the brakes on hard, or simply kick me out of the car all together. What actually wound up happening was she said she'd by my girlfriend. So, that was an unexpected and pleasant surprise to say the least.
That alone had me feeling great this morning, as I woke up at 8am on a solid 5-6 hours of sleep, whistling a merry tune on the drive back to my place to get showered and ready for work. On a whim, I decided to step on the scale before I left, and see what if any effect my attempts at improved diet and exercise had bought. Now I can't give firm figures, but the last time I stepped on this same scale, I was weighing in a shade under 245. I believe my WiiFit corroborated that number as well, though I couldn't be certain. I do know I was walking around at 240 at the very least. So you can imagine my surprise and joy at finding I was down to 235. 5-10 pounds lost? Really? It's not like I've been 100% faithful to either the improved diet or going to the gym, but still: progress! I hadn't thought I could be in a better mood, but then there you have it, I was.
So, feeling energized and enthused, I strolled into work and made a few phone calls, including a personal one to finally set up a time to get the overgrown mop on my head trimmed (when you're terrified each morning that you may have crossed the threshold between shaggy & mullet in your sleep, things need to be taken care of). Lo and behold, not only is the person I had recommended to me working, but free to cut my hair after work today. Even better! (to say nothing of the pounds of hair that will probably get clipped off later). And so my work day continued to go well. Heck, I've only watched one teensy Daily Show episode while here today, as opposed to a movie and three episodes of Lost on some days. (kidding! If any of my lovely JHSPH colleagues are reading).
But wait, there's more. See, I heard back from a Dean at Rutgers I had written to seeking advice. He had been a great friend and mentor to me while I went through the self-destruction of my higher-education experience, and always gave me sound advice without false encouragement. I can't tell you how helpful he was to me, and now he'd written me back to offer advice once more on how I might be able to finally finish my undergraduate work at Rutgers. Even though it's an off-chance, his advice and encouragement (to say nothing of his offer to continue writing, and advising me no matter where this particular appeal leads) were not just energizing, but touching.
I was pleased to pass that info along to my parents; I called my Mom to let her know, and forwarded the e-mail to my Dad, who had done me the favor of proofreading the original message I sent seeking help. To then hear back the same kind of sober, thoughtful encouragement from him by itself would have been enough; but he also urged me to not let my communication with the Dean fall by the wayside. It seems to him like an offer of mentorship; and in a week where he'd lost a lifetime mentor of his own, he expressed his hope that it would work out well for me too.
Which brings me to the memory of Marshall. Marshall was a long-time teacher in North Jersey, and taught at Linden when both my parents went through that school. He was the only teacher who ever flunked my Mom, and not because she was at the bottom of the class; but because she hadn't worked up to what he knew was her potential. Not many teachers care enough to do something like that sincerely; and you almost certainly would never see one try something like that now. I don't have any specific anecdotes about his working with my Dad, but I know throughout all the roller-coaster that was my father's education, Marshall was there for him, trying to help him stay on track and get where he wanted to go.
When my Mom transferred to Seton Hall after a couple years of Bucknell, he took her in. He was as good as family to us, and was a cross between a grandfather and uncle to me. I can remember him coming over, when I was younger and he was healthier, and making me play my sax for him. I've played a lot of different pieces, in a lot of different venues in my short-lived musical career: from competing @ Giants Stadium with the marching band to jazz bands, sax quartets, and orchestral pieces; even a few punk shows at the various Jersey dives. But playing for Marshall easily felt as great as any of those other performances.
He was an amazing man, and I wish I could have spent more time with him... But since I can't thank him in person, I'll just do it here.
Thanks Marshall. For being there for me and my family for all those years. You were an incredible person, and made all our lives better by being in them. I'll miss you.
So, with the full weight of the word's original meaning and intent in mind, I tell you that today really has been a thoroughly incredible day for me.
It started around midnight, when I was feeling profoundly nervous and convinced that things were not about to go well in a conversation I had been asked to go have. And while aspects of that conversation may have been sobering and pointed, with good cause, the end result was a moment of realized desires and happiness that I had not expected at all. Or, if I were to be less of a windbag about it, I went to go see a lovely woman who I thought was either about to put the brakes on hard, or simply kick me out of the car all together. What actually wound up happening was she said she'd by my girlfriend. So, that was an unexpected and pleasant surprise to say the least.
That alone had me feeling great this morning, as I woke up at 8am on a solid 5-6 hours of sleep, whistling a merry tune on the drive back to my place to get showered and ready for work. On a whim, I decided to step on the scale before I left, and see what if any effect my attempts at improved diet and exercise had bought. Now I can't give firm figures, but the last time I stepped on this same scale, I was weighing in a shade under 245. I believe my WiiFit corroborated that number as well, though I couldn't be certain. I do know I was walking around at 240 at the very least. So you can imagine my surprise and joy at finding I was down to 235. 5-10 pounds lost? Really? It's not like I've been 100% faithful to either the improved diet or going to the gym, but still: progress! I hadn't thought I could be in a better mood, but then there you have it, I was.
So, feeling energized and enthused, I strolled into work and made a few phone calls, including a personal one to finally set up a time to get the overgrown mop on my head trimmed (when you're terrified each morning that you may have crossed the threshold between shaggy & mullet in your sleep, things need to be taken care of). Lo and behold, not only is the person I had recommended to me working, but free to cut my hair after work today. Even better! (to say nothing of the pounds of hair that will probably get clipped off later). And so my work day continued to go well. Heck, I've only watched one teensy Daily Show episode while here today, as opposed to a movie and three episodes of Lost on some days. (kidding! If any of my lovely JHSPH colleagues are reading).
But wait, there's more. See, I heard back from a Dean at Rutgers I had written to seeking advice. He had been a great friend and mentor to me while I went through the self-destruction of my higher-education experience, and always gave me sound advice without false encouragement. I can't tell you how helpful he was to me, and now he'd written me back to offer advice once more on how I might be able to finally finish my undergraduate work at Rutgers. Even though it's an off-chance, his advice and encouragement (to say nothing of his offer to continue writing, and advising me no matter where this particular appeal leads) were not just energizing, but touching.
I was pleased to pass that info along to my parents; I called my Mom to let her know, and forwarded the e-mail to my Dad, who had done me the favor of proofreading the original message I sent seeking help. To then hear back the same kind of sober, thoughtful encouragement from him by itself would have been enough; but he also urged me to not let my communication with the Dean fall by the wayside. It seems to him like an offer of mentorship; and in a week where he'd lost a lifetime mentor of his own, he expressed his hope that it would work out well for me too.
Which brings me to the memory of Marshall. Marshall was a long-time teacher in North Jersey, and taught at Linden when both my parents went through that school. He was the only teacher who ever flunked my Mom, and not because she was at the bottom of the class; but because she hadn't worked up to what he knew was her potential. Not many teachers care enough to do something like that sincerely; and you almost certainly would never see one try something like that now. I don't have any specific anecdotes about his working with my Dad, but I know throughout all the roller-coaster that was my father's education, Marshall was there for him, trying to help him stay on track and get where he wanted to go.
When my Mom transferred to Seton Hall after a couple years of Bucknell, he took her in. He was as good as family to us, and was a cross between a grandfather and uncle to me. I can remember him coming over, when I was younger and he was healthier, and making me play my sax for him. I've played a lot of different pieces, in a lot of different venues in my short-lived musical career: from competing @ Giants Stadium with the marching band to jazz bands, sax quartets, and orchestral pieces; even a few punk shows at the various Jersey dives. But playing for Marshall easily felt as great as any of those other performances.
He was an amazing man, and I wish I could have spent more time with him... But since I can't thank him in person, I'll just do it here.
Thanks Marshall. For being there for me and my family for all those years. You were an incredible person, and made all our lives better by being in them. I'll miss you.
17 July 2009
Another week gone by...
And another few interesting stories to tell, as I sit here on my couch in just a pair of basketball shorts, watching Season 5 of The Wire. The only reason I'm not on the road at the moment headed back home to Jersey is because I seem to have quite literally run out of clean clothes. So once this load's dry, I'm hitting 95 and get back perhaps before Saturday. As much as I would have enjoyed hanging out in Baltimore, and possibly hitting up Artscape, when the brother asks for a birthday trip to the track; it's time to ship it on back home for a day.
But enough blather about me: onto Justin's Exciting Interview Stories of the Week:
First story is about a woman who, sweet as she was, was slower than a turtle in molasses. I mean this girl would take at least 30 seconds to answer any question you asked her. Of course, I brought this on myself when I was asked if I'd take an extra interview with a little over an hour before my next scheduled one, and said "sure, things only take 50 min. for me anyway." Yeah...dumb move on my part. Took an hour to get through the first of three parts alone; I had to put the girl on the automated section so I could call the next interview I had. Almost 2 hours later, she just finished the automated part (which typically takes 15-20 min for the average participant) so I called back to finish the last two sections I had to lead her through. And in the middle of it, her mother starts yelling and picks up the phone to yell at me about how this is taking too damn long and what's wrong with me. Now, there were two ways this could go:
"Lady, it is not my fault your daughter is either too dumb or strung out to answer my questions in anything resembling a reasonable amount of time."
"Ma'am, I understand this is taking longer than usual, and typically our interviews only take an hour. But as I explained to your daughter, if she needs a break we can stop and finish later."
Yeah, I took the reasonable approach, and eventually got out (2 hours later than I should have) and took my ass to the bar for a crab cake sandwich and a beer.
Our next story is about a nice woman who had me over to interview her at her apartment. Now, for whatever reason, people never think to mention that they have pets until they're opening the front door. Luckily, I like dogs, so no harm no foul for me. But she seemed a little tweaked after both her dog and her cat decided to park on top of me to get petted, and wouldn't go back to her when beckoned. And then I got glared at by the hubbie when he rolled in after work. Really? Glare at the interviewer who's checking his phone trying to get the hell home so he can meet up with someone he'd actually like to spend time with? Oh well.
Those're the highlights for now; though I can say the constant reschedulings and cancellations are getting old. But, with time will come more stories. So until next time...
But enough blather about me: onto Justin's Exciting Interview Stories of the Week:
First story is about a woman who, sweet as she was, was slower than a turtle in molasses. I mean this girl would take at least 30 seconds to answer any question you asked her. Of course, I brought this on myself when I was asked if I'd take an extra interview with a little over an hour before my next scheduled one, and said "sure, things only take 50 min. for me anyway." Yeah...dumb move on my part. Took an hour to get through the first of three parts alone; I had to put the girl on the automated section so I could call the next interview I had. Almost 2 hours later, she just finished the automated part (which typically takes 15-20 min for the average participant) so I called back to finish the last two sections I had to lead her through. And in the middle of it, her mother starts yelling and picks up the phone to yell at me about how this is taking too damn long and what's wrong with me. Now, there were two ways this could go:
"Lady, it is not my fault your daughter is either too dumb or strung out to answer my questions in anything resembling a reasonable amount of time."
"Ma'am, I understand this is taking longer than usual, and typically our interviews only take an hour. But as I explained to your daughter, if she needs a break we can stop and finish later."
Yeah, I took the reasonable approach, and eventually got out (2 hours later than I should have) and took my ass to the bar for a crab cake sandwich and a beer.
Our next story is about a nice woman who had me over to interview her at her apartment. Now, for whatever reason, people never think to mention that they have pets until they're opening the front door. Luckily, I like dogs, so no harm no foul for me. But she seemed a little tweaked after both her dog and her cat decided to park on top of me to get petted, and wouldn't go back to her when beckoned. And then I got glared at by the hubbie when he rolled in after work. Really? Glare at the interviewer who's checking his phone trying to get the hell home so he can meet up with someone he'd actually like to spend time with? Oh well.
Those're the highlights for now; though I can say the constant reschedulings and cancellations are getting old. But, with time will come more stories. So until next time...
10 July 2009
Adventures in the City
I've gotten the feeling that I should be documenting my recent interview work, or at least the more interesting tidbits, so that I can remember them all later with some detail. Obviously this is mostly a self-indulgent exercise, as I haven't used this blog much at all for quite some time and would be surprised if anyone bothered to check it. But why start something new when you can just repurpose something old?
So anyway, names and locations are obviously removed to protect the privacy of the interviewees, and the name of my study/employer/etc. will also be withheld for the same reason. Nevertheless, here's a few of the highlights so far:
- Interviewed one person over the phone who was clearly smoking weed the entire time he was talking to me. I could hear his lighter in the background; friends in the background were laughing about it; he tried to speak while holding his breath; and if the types of answers changed he was at least 30 seconds behind me. I mean, kudos for pulling through the whole interview, but damn if it wasn't a little annoying for me. Though that may have been due more to the part where I was trying to decipher answers through the overwhelming static of what had to be a prehistoric cordless phone.
- Interviewed two people in the same day with little kids the same age; one of which was expecting a new one soon; not more than a few blocks from each other. It was eerie how similar these two were, from their hair to their faces to their houses to their speech, right down to the fact that apparently there is no orthodontist or dentist in their neighborhood. I mean seriously, these poor two were so bad they could star in a BBC historical production with the right accent.
- One interviewee thought to warn me he had a pit bull as he was opening his front door (luckily I couldn't care less, and the dog was a sweetheart) and then proceeded to tell me how he was late because he had $1,000 stereo system snatched from his car that morning. Nice enough guy, though I'm more pissed that he held onto a piece of paperwork I was supposed to bring back, and haven't been able to pick it up yet. Sucks for me.
- This one interview was pretty easy, the guy was real nice and easy to talk to, seemed a little down but nothing big. And at one point he hands me his business card (which was actually natural at the moment) and then reconsiders and hands me a stack, telling me he'd hook me up if I needed some car-detailing done, or any of the company's other services. I couldn't help but laugh, then had the dude come check out my car from the window: my POS little Chevy was in desperate need of some work; but you don't detail a mess like that. I did pass out a few of the cards though, since he was a cool guy.
That's it for the first two weeks, as best I can reckon. More to come, perhaps. And there's always the chance I'll think of something alltogether different worth writing on here. But I wouldn't bet on it.
So anyway, names and locations are obviously removed to protect the privacy of the interviewees, and the name of my study/employer/etc. will also be withheld for the same reason. Nevertheless, here's a few of the highlights so far:
- Interviewed one person over the phone who was clearly smoking weed the entire time he was talking to me. I could hear his lighter in the background; friends in the background were laughing about it; he tried to speak while holding his breath; and if the types of answers changed he was at least 30 seconds behind me. I mean, kudos for pulling through the whole interview, but damn if it wasn't a little annoying for me. Though that may have been due more to the part where I was trying to decipher answers through the overwhelming static of what had to be a prehistoric cordless phone.
- Interviewed two people in the same day with little kids the same age; one of which was expecting a new one soon; not more than a few blocks from each other. It was eerie how similar these two were, from their hair to their faces to their houses to their speech, right down to the fact that apparently there is no orthodontist or dentist in their neighborhood. I mean seriously, these poor two were so bad they could star in a BBC historical production with the right accent.
- One interviewee thought to warn me he had a pit bull as he was opening his front door (luckily I couldn't care less, and the dog was a sweetheart) and then proceeded to tell me how he was late because he had $1,000 stereo system snatched from his car that morning. Nice enough guy, though I'm more pissed that he held onto a piece of paperwork I was supposed to bring back, and haven't been able to pick it up yet. Sucks for me.
- This one interview was pretty easy, the guy was real nice and easy to talk to, seemed a little down but nothing big. And at one point he hands me his business card (which was actually natural at the moment) and then reconsiders and hands me a stack, telling me he'd hook me up if I needed some car-detailing done, or any of the company's other services. I couldn't help but laugh, then had the dude come check out my car from the window: my POS little Chevy was in desperate need of some work; but you don't detail a mess like that. I did pass out a few of the cards though, since he was a cool guy.
That's it for the first two weeks, as best I can reckon. More to come, perhaps. And there's always the chance I'll think of something alltogether different worth writing on here. But I wouldn't bet on it.
09 May 2009
Why I <3 Joss Whedon
I had big plans for this morning/early afternoon. I was going to explore the park here in Catonsville; go for a hike; clean up and do some laundry; maybe sit outside and read a book. But the first thing I had to do was eat. I was really, really hungry. Probably some combination of my stomach being empty and angry with me for all the alcohol I put in it last night, but either way I ended up making a sandwich and sitting down looking for something to watch while I ate. And then I remembered that being at the bar last night for all the carousing and watching various sporting events meant I missed an episode of Dollhouse. So, thanks to Hulu, I knew exactly what to do while I ate my tasty little ham & swiss wrap.
And now that I just finished this episode, I'm impressed to the point of needing to write down my thoughts about it, and about its creator. The rest of the plans are going out the window, because I don't think my brain will support me letting this slide; it'll just gnaw at me until I get it out, otherwise.
This whole thought process needs to start with an older, failed show of Whedon's that Fox let on the air for a little bit, and then butchered and yanked without the benefit of a full season's experience. I can't remember how I learned about Firefly, but the feedback I'd seen for it was all so overtly positive (then again Geek fans usually get that way) I ordered the season's DVDs and sat down to watch them. And I absolutely loved it; still do actually (and just finished rewatching it less than a week ago). I watched it in order, and had a deep appreciation for the depth of the characters, the dialogue, and the fact that Whedon seemed eager to mix a space-cowboy opera with some philosophical musings. I mean, having one of the most esteemed and respected professions be what amounts to a high-end call girl? Trying to discuss political questions of how much freedom is enough; and what do you do to get it? To say nothing of introducing Summer Glau (I'm still mildly uncomfortable with someone that attractive acting both crazy and bad-ass, and then doing it again in that Terminator series...it's unsettling). And I really couldn't fathom how this fantastic show had crashed and burned so badly.
Then I remembered it was owned by Fox. And Fox is awful, almost to a fault. I started reading to see if the show had a comeback in it, and saw that they'd been airing episodes out of order, yanked it halfway through, and never really gave it a chance to build a following (which it undoubtedly would have, as evidenced by how vehemently its small hardcore base was braying when it died).
And eventually I realized it was, in fact, dead and not coming back. And all that tasty character development and slow-burning plot was dead and gone, save for the seedy underbelly of *shudder* fan-fiction. But I kept an eye on Whedon's work, because I was impressed with it (and really had always enjoyed Buffy and later Angel, though never was absorbed in it the way others were). So when Serenity was finally released, I was stoked to see it in theatres, and while still a little let down that so many of the plotlines had to either be abandoned, or come to a rather abrupt end (Okay, cool, so we know what the Reavers were and where they came from, but what's the deal with Shepard Book? Aside from being, you know, corpseified) it felt like the best ending to the story I could get, so I liked it.
And of course when Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog came out last year during the strike, I was all over it. And once again, I really enjoyed it. It had some super-hero/super-villain action, goofy songs, NPH & Nathan Fillion, a cute red-head, and an evil-mastermind horse. (Plus an apparent organized labor structure for villainy. A union that robs others' pensions to fund its own? Brilliant!) What the Hell else could I ask for? Hell, I spent a month trying to put together a Dr. Horrible costume for Halloween, and ultimately gave up mostly because I couldn't find the right lab-coat, and it was wayy easier to buy some sunglasses and a hat and be Elwood Blues.
But I digress. So fast-forward to earlier this year, and I recall sitting in the break room at the old job reading a magazine (probably EW?) and seeing an article on this new Joss Whedon show starting on Fox called Dollhouse. And I thought "huh, that's awesome, I'll have to check it out." But the article seemed pretty down on it so far, and alluded to a recurring of old struggles between Whedon & Fox. They wanted more action, he wanted something more philosophical; and now apparently independently producing Dr. Horrible during the strike gave him a real taste for cutting out the middleman and having control over the whole deal. And as a result, it said the show seemed dischordant so far, and struggling to find its voice. But out of a bit of trust for Whedon's work, and some odd loyalty to writers I enjoy, I decided to watch it anyway. And you know what? The first couple episodes were pretty dischordant. The action was good, the snappy dialogue was there, but it didn't feel put-together yet. But hell, it was free and I could watch it online whenever I wanted, so I kept up with it.
Now I can't tell you when it started to happen (mostly because I don't feel like re-watching the whole season just yet) but at some point it started to come together. Maybe it was the kidnapping episode, where Echo finally wasn't just being gussied up to look sexy and kick ass. I mean she even had asthma in that imprint, I think. But the show started clicking, the characters started filling out, and I still felt like Whedon was getting to explore some deeper philosophical questions in the mix of it (which really only ever helps a story, if done right). And now that I've watched what I'm relatively sure was a season finale, which gets right into the thick of talking about the nature of self; of identity; and of personality, while simultaneously showing attractive people beating the crap out of each other in well-choreographed scenes. And all I can think after watching it is how fantastically glad I am that Fox is running it, and hopefully will renew it again for next year. This is the kind of thing that I want to see and consume; the kind of show that can spark great conversations between viewers, and really screw with your head while being entertaining. And it has a guy who uses Muay Thai, which is always sweet.
And I guess that's the gist of what my brain was trying to regurgitate. I'll confess, I'm feeling a nap coming on, and do have to at least finish cleaning up, so I'm less invested in this than I was at first (and it helps that I know nobody could possibly be following a stagnant blog by me anyway), but I'm not looking to delve into a reading of individual episodes or the series as a whole on here anyway. I'd need to watch it again to do that. I do think, though, that guys like Joss Whedon & J.J. Abrams and Aaron Sorkin have shown the real power of a TV series. Ultimately a movie is like a short story; you have to cram all of its characters, its introduction, its rise, its climax, and its conclusion in somewhere between 90 and 150 minutes (unless you're Peter Jackson, in which case you can get more like 240). And consequently, if you want to show deep characters, you need to limit the cast and focus on a few, and really limit your angles and plotlines as well so as to avoid congestion. But a good TV series? It's like a slowly unfolding novel. Each episode is a chapter, that can be used to focus on a particular thread of story; a couple of characters, or moving the central plot forward. You can take detours for an episode away from the main action to highlight some of your characters, or to explore or introduce a new angle. And the whole work slowly evolves as the episodes progress. It's really a brilliant format, and all the better recognized on channels like HBO & Showtime that allow for uninterrupted episodes, and fewer restrictions on content and language (though really you don't need boobs and swearing to make good TV, and we all know the FCC doesn't give a crap about violence; just sex and naughty words).
So, in closing, I would urge the hypothetical reader to get into Dollhouse now, because it's really been great so far, and if you liked any of Whedon's old work, or just like a good smart show, it's worth seeing. And if you haven't seen Firefly or Dr. Horrible before, I would similarly urge you to quit wasting time and do it. This is the kind of work that inspires me to write, and to work on telling stories. And I've run out of ways to praise it. Hopefully that's enough.
And now that I just finished this episode, I'm impressed to the point of needing to write down my thoughts about it, and about its creator. The rest of the plans are going out the window, because I don't think my brain will support me letting this slide; it'll just gnaw at me until I get it out, otherwise.
This whole thought process needs to start with an older, failed show of Whedon's that Fox let on the air for a little bit, and then butchered and yanked without the benefit of a full season's experience. I can't remember how I learned about Firefly, but the feedback I'd seen for it was all so overtly positive (then again Geek fans usually get that way) I ordered the season's DVDs and sat down to watch them. And I absolutely loved it; still do actually (and just finished rewatching it less than a week ago). I watched it in order, and had a deep appreciation for the depth of the characters, the dialogue, and the fact that Whedon seemed eager to mix a space-cowboy opera with some philosophical musings. I mean, having one of the most esteemed and respected professions be what amounts to a high-end call girl? Trying to discuss political questions of how much freedom is enough; and what do you do to get it? To say nothing of introducing Summer Glau (I'm still mildly uncomfortable with someone that attractive acting both crazy and bad-ass, and then doing it again in that Terminator series...it's unsettling). And I really couldn't fathom how this fantastic show had crashed and burned so badly.
Then I remembered it was owned by Fox. And Fox is awful, almost to a fault. I started reading to see if the show had a comeback in it, and saw that they'd been airing episodes out of order, yanked it halfway through, and never really gave it a chance to build a following (which it undoubtedly would have, as evidenced by how vehemently its small hardcore base was braying when it died).
And eventually I realized it was, in fact, dead and not coming back. And all that tasty character development and slow-burning plot was dead and gone, save for the seedy underbelly of *shudder* fan-fiction. But I kept an eye on Whedon's work, because I was impressed with it (and really had always enjoyed Buffy and later Angel, though never was absorbed in it the way others were). So when Serenity was finally released, I was stoked to see it in theatres, and while still a little let down that so many of the plotlines had to either be abandoned, or come to a rather abrupt end (Okay, cool, so we know what the Reavers were and where they came from, but what's the deal with Shepard Book? Aside from being, you know, corpseified) it felt like the best ending to the story I could get, so I liked it.
And of course when Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog came out last year during the strike, I was all over it. And once again, I really enjoyed it. It had some super-hero/super-villain action, goofy songs, NPH & Nathan Fillion, a cute red-head, and an evil-mastermind horse. (Plus an apparent organized labor structure for villainy. A union that robs others' pensions to fund its own? Brilliant!) What the Hell else could I ask for? Hell, I spent a month trying to put together a Dr. Horrible costume for Halloween, and ultimately gave up mostly because I couldn't find the right lab-coat, and it was wayy easier to buy some sunglasses and a hat and be Elwood Blues.
But I digress. So fast-forward to earlier this year, and I recall sitting in the break room at the old job reading a magazine (probably EW?) and seeing an article on this new Joss Whedon show starting on Fox called Dollhouse. And I thought "huh, that's awesome, I'll have to check it out." But the article seemed pretty down on it so far, and alluded to a recurring of old struggles between Whedon & Fox. They wanted more action, he wanted something more philosophical; and now apparently independently producing Dr. Horrible during the strike gave him a real taste for cutting out the middleman and having control over the whole deal. And as a result, it said the show seemed dischordant so far, and struggling to find its voice. But out of a bit of trust for Whedon's work, and some odd loyalty to writers I enjoy, I decided to watch it anyway. And you know what? The first couple episodes were pretty dischordant. The action was good, the snappy dialogue was there, but it didn't feel put-together yet. But hell, it was free and I could watch it online whenever I wanted, so I kept up with it.
Now I can't tell you when it started to happen (mostly because I don't feel like re-watching the whole season just yet) but at some point it started to come together. Maybe it was the kidnapping episode, where Echo finally wasn't just being gussied up to look sexy and kick ass. I mean she even had asthma in that imprint, I think. But the show started clicking, the characters started filling out, and I still felt like Whedon was getting to explore some deeper philosophical questions in the mix of it (which really only ever helps a story, if done right). And now that I've watched what I'm relatively sure was a season finale, which gets right into the thick of talking about the nature of self; of identity; and of personality, while simultaneously showing attractive people beating the crap out of each other in well-choreographed scenes. And all I can think after watching it is how fantastically glad I am that Fox is running it, and hopefully will renew it again for next year. This is the kind of thing that I want to see and consume; the kind of show that can spark great conversations between viewers, and really screw with your head while being entertaining. And it has a guy who uses Muay Thai, which is always sweet.
And I guess that's the gist of what my brain was trying to regurgitate. I'll confess, I'm feeling a nap coming on, and do have to at least finish cleaning up, so I'm less invested in this than I was at first (and it helps that I know nobody could possibly be following a stagnant blog by me anyway), but I'm not looking to delve into a reading of individual episodes or the series as a whole on here anyway. I'd need to watch it again to do that. I do think, though, that guys like Joss Whedon & J.J. Abrams and Aaron Sorkin have shown the real power of a TV series. Ultimately a movie is like a short story; you have to cram all of its characters, its introduction, its rise, its climax, and its conclusion in somewhere between 90 and 150 minutes (unless you're Peter Jackson, in which case you can get more like 240). And consequently, if you want to show deep characters, you need to limit the cast and focus on a few, and really limit your angles and plotlines as well so as to avoid congestion. But a good TV series? It's like a slowly unfolding novel. Each episode is a chapter, that can be used to focus on a particular thread of story; a couple of characters, or moving the central plot forward. You can take detours for an episode away from the main action to highlight some of your characters, or to explore or introduce a new angle. And the whole work slowly evolves as the episodes progress. It's really a brilliant format, and all the better recognized on channels like HBO & Showtime that allow for uninterrupted episodes, and fewer restrictions on content and language (though really you don't need boobs and swearing to make good TV, and we all know the FCC doesn't give a crap about violence; just sex and naughty words).
So, in closing, I would urge the hypothetical reader to get into Dollhouse now, because it's really been great so far, and if you liked any of Whedon's old work, or just like a good smart show, it's worth seeing. And if you haven't seen Firefly or Dr. Horrible before, I would similarly urge you to quit wasting time and do it. This is the kind of work that inspires me to write, and to work on telling stories. And I've run out of ways to praise it. Hopefully that's enough.
28 February 2008
This weekend, among other things, included an all-day experience at the AMC "Best Picture Showcase" in Times Square. While watching all 5 Best Picture nominees on Saturday, the esteemed Nicole Lyn Pesce of the New York Daily News and I corroborated on an attempt to review all five films and decide on which one we felt should win the pleasant little gold man on a pedastal. So, for the hell of it, even though the awards were given out last night (and, in all honesty, are pretty much ridiculous anyway) I'm going to indulge myself in write-up of my notes and scores for each of the films.
First, an explanation on the scoring system. Points were awarded based on five categories with varying values. The categories were:
Cinematography: This category has a total of 7 possible points, to be awarded on use of skill in the filmmaking process. Lighting, camera movement, editing, angles, and the like were all taken into account and graded accordingly. Slightly less value was given to this category because, while it's a good deal of fun for me, it's only a part of what matters and should be closely linked to the second category...
Sound: Only a total possible 3 points here, but mostly to round out the director's contribution to the film when coupled with cinematography. Both diagetic and non-diagetic sound is included, from music to effects, and even the use of silence.
Story: The screenwriter's slice of the pie, a possible 10 points can be awarded for the structure of the film's plot. The quality of the tale being told; any exciting uses of or deviations from convention; and the development of the film's characters are all components that were considered in this category (though not necesarilly the only ones).
Acting: Another possible 10 points for the work of the cast. Pretty self explanatory; how well the ensemble as a whole not only carries their individual roles but interacts together was considered when assigning points for this portion. Points to be deducted for hammy-ness, unbelievability, or negative impressions.
And last but not least, Fun: How much enjoyment did watching this film actually give me? Would I recommend it to friends and family? Would I want to buy it? Would I watch it again? Did it keep me excited and engaged? While the category means much more than just did it make me smile and happy, this last category strives to quantify how well the film worked on a whole. A film like Schindler's List, for example, while a weighty and powerful film, would not normally be considered something "fun" to watch. But it's power, quality, and the fact that I would insist everyone should watch it at some point in their lives would earn it a 10. On the other hand, Star Wars and Indiana Jones would earn a similar mark, for totally different reasons.
So, that's the rubric that was used, and the following (from lowest to highest) are the scores awarded to each of the five films. Nominees included the Coen Brothers' No Country For Old Men, Paul Thomas Anderson's There Will Be Blood, Joe Wright & Christopher Hampton's Atonement, Jason Reitman & Diablo Cody's Juno, and Tony Gilroy's Michael Clayton.
5th place: Atonement
Cinematography: 7
Atonement is nothing if not gorgeously filmed. Wright's camerawork is masterful. For example, the French beach sequence is a single long shot that follows each of the soldiers, and occasionally lets the camera follow points of interest independently, is a brilliant piece of work. Also, the scenes at the fountain have a beauty to them that is noteworthy. Little left to be desired on a technical aspect from this film, hence the maximum points.
Pesce's Peanut Gallery: While some of the scenes were absolutely gorgeous -- the long shot on the French beach and the flowering English countryside surrounding the elite estate were jaw dropping -- I need more than just a pretty face. I need some depth; evidence that there's some wheels turning behind that fair facade, and frankly, this film didn't deliver. I didn't care about the characters -- and I'm typically the sort of sap who can find a reason to get teared up watching anything from "Terminator 2" to "Bring It On." The only thing appealing about Keira Knightley's character was that dazzling green dress she was wearing on The Night That Changed Everything. I just wasn't rooting for the star-crossed lovers the way I pulled for her and Mr. Darcy in "Pride and Prejudice" -- SPOILER ALERT: their deaths put EVERYONE out of their misery, including the characters themselves. The only thing I watched with any interest through this manipulative pile of Oscar-grubbing manure was the time ...
Peanut Gallery: I was extremely disappointed. The perfectly-crafted pieces were there: the cinematography, the music and the acting were all top-notch. If only the storyline(s) could have been woven into the mix with more finesse. I recommend checking out "Blood" to learn why DDL scored his Oscar; as for what else you're supposed to get out of it ... well, oil barrons are bad, and televanglists aren't above getting their hands dirty, either, which can spark an interesting discourse on our country's political climate, I suppose, but is nothing incredibly original.
Peanut Gallery: I actually enjoyed this movie even more on a second viewing than I did on the first, which is a rare feat. The writers nailed the dialogue so naturally that it's downright eerie; "food baby" was already a staple in my friends' vocabulary before catching this flick, and those personalized touches like the hamburger phone and the orange Tic Tacs make the characters lovable and identifiable in a natural, effortless way that the other nominees tried so hard to emulate, but ultimately weren't as successful in. Similar to last year's "Little Miss Sunshine," you leave this movie just feeling GOOD - and in today's world, there's nothing wrong with that.
Peanut Gallery: I was still half asleep when we climbed into our seats to catch "Clayton," which was the first of the five films shown during the Oscar showcase last weekend -- but not even 15 minutes into it, I was already wide awake and gripping the arm rests on my chair. Clooney always delivers, but the rest of the cast easily kept up the pace in this fast-moving, thinking man's thriller. I already can't wait to see it again to try and pick up on the clues I may have missed the first time around.
Peanut Gallery: By far my favorite of the five. I went into the showcase convinced I was rooting for "Old Country" for best picture, and a second viewing solidified my opinion. The nail-biting suspence matched by Javier Bardem's creepy badass, Tommy Lee Jones' familiar sheriff and Josh Brolin's resourceful rogue all round out a really great story that's played out before the beautiful backdrop of what's left of the Old West. The scene between Bardem and Brolin in the hotel (seeing the shadow pause just before the shut door, and then the squeaky screech as the hallway lightbulb is unscrewed) is absolutely terrifying. Well done!
Final Score: 39/40
Well, that wraps it up. What I found interesting was that before I saw No Country again, I was convinced that I was going to be deciding between Juno and Michael Clayton for which was my best picture pick. But just seeing No Country really blew me away. It was an awesome day of movie watching, I only wish we had taken our dinner break during Atonement instead of Juno. Seriously, no more pretentious British crap, please! I just can't take any more.
First, an explanation on the scoring system. Points were awarded based on five categories with varying values. The categories were:
Cinematography: This category has a total of 7 possible points, to be awarded on use of skill in the filmmaking process. Lighting, camera movement, editing, angles, and the like were all taken into account and graded accordingly. Slightly less value was given to this category because, while it's a good deal of fun for me, it's only a part of what matters and should be closely linked to the second category...
Sound: Only a total possible 3 points here, but mostly to round out the director's contribution to the film when coupled with cinematography. Both diagetic and non-diagetic sound is included, from music to effects, and even the use of silence.
Story: The screenwriter's slice of the pie, a possible 10 points can be awarded for the structure of the film's plot. The quality of the tale being told; any exciting uses of or deviations from convention; and the development of the film's characters are all components that were considered in this category (though not necesarilly the only ones).
Acting: Another possible 10 points for the work of the cast. Pretty self explanatory; how well the ensemble as a whole not only carries their individual roles but interacts together was considered when assigning points for this portion. Points to be deducted for hammy-ness, unbelievability, or negative impressions.
And last but not least, Fun: How much enjoyment did watching this film actually give me? Would I recommend it to friends and family? Would I want to buy it? Would I watch it again? Did it keep me excited and engaged? While the category means much more than just did it make me smile and happy, this last category strives to quantify how well the film worked on a whole. A film like Schindler's List, for example, while a weighty and powerful film, would not normally be considered something "fun" to watch. But it's power, quality, and the fact that I would insist everyone should watch it at some point in their lives would earn it a 10. On the other hand, Star Wars and Indiana Jones would earn a similar mark, for totally different reasons.
So, that's the rubric that was used, and the following (from lowest to highest) are the scores awarded to each of the five films. Nominees included the Coen Brothers' No Country For Old Men, Paul Thomas Anderson's There Will Be Blood, Joe Wright & Christopher Hampton's Atonement, Jason Reitman & Diablo Cody's Juno, and Tony Gilroy's Michael Clayton.
5th place: Atonement
Cinematography: 7
Atonement is nothing if not gorgeously filmed. Wright's camerawork is masterful. For example, the French beach sequence is a single long shot that follows each of the soldiers, and occasionally lets the camera follow points of interest independently, is a brilliant piece of work. Also, the scenes at the fountain have a beauty to them that is noteworthy. Little left to be desired on a technical aspect from this film, hence the maximum points.
Sound: 3
The soundtrack to this film fits wonderfully. The classic score melded with accents like the typewriter keys at key moments do a fantastic job of accenting the film. Loved the music and little effect notes to this film, so a full compliment of points here as well.
Story: 7
Really, I felt the story here left quite a bit to be desired. Personally I could care less for the standard aristocratic, british, star-crossed lovers angle from the beginning. Couple that with the fact that after the first act the rest of the film makes little to no point, and the story is fairly weak. That being said, some of the bits of play with the chronology of the story were interesting. Playing a scene through once and then back again from a different perspective is interesting, though gets stale as its re-used again and again.
Acting: 8
The acting in this film often felt over the top to me. Keira Knightley and James McAvoy both felt hammy to me throughout the film. I cared little for either of them, and their characters just came across as flat and pretentious to me. Briony, in the 2 earlier stages of her life, felt equally plastic to me. The only bright spot was the work of Vanessa Redgrave as Briony the elder. Her emotions were the only ones that seemed genuine to me, and so she saved the cast from losing more than two points.
Fun: 6
I often caught myself wishing this movie was done already, or spacing out, or just really disliking what I was watching. The entire piece felt like a masturbatory pretentious british period piece designed to earn Oscar nominations, and little else. I really could have been just fine having never seen it; I would certainly not go see it again or ever buy it on DVD, and I would only recommend it to someone who had no real other options. The production values and the quality of cinematography were the film's only saving graces in this regard.
Pesce's Peanut Gallery: While some of the scenes were absolutely gorgeous -- the long shot on the French beach and the flowering English countryside surrounding the elite estate were jaw dropping -- I need more than just a pretty face. I need some depth; evidence that there's some wheels turning behind that fair facade, and frankly, this film didn't deliver. I didn't care about the characters -- and I'm typically the sort of sap who can find a reason to get teared up watching anything from "Terminator 2" to "Bring It On." The only thing appealing about Keira Knightley's character was that dazzling green dress she was wearing on The Night That Changed Everything. I just wasn't rooting for the star-crossed lovers the way I pulled for her and Mr. Darcy in "Pride and Prejudice" -- SPOILER ALERT: their deaths put EVERYONE out of their misery, including the characters themselves. The only thing I watched with any interest through this manipulative pile of Oscar-grubbing manure was the time ...
Total Score: 31/40
4th Place: There Will Be Blood
Cinematography: 7
PTA's camerawork is phenomenal. The establishing shots on the opening scene of the mountain range are phenomenal, as is the lighting used throughout the film. The cramped, dark scenes inside the holes they've dug; the brilliance of a firey oil derrick; and the composition of the shots in Daniel Plainview's mansion at the end are all amazing bits of camerawork. Really a beautifuly shot film, no doubt about it. No hesitation in all seven points here.
Sound: 3
Personally, I found the soundtrack to this film outstanding. The tension in the strings always fit perfectly; and the sound of the digging and of the beatings resonated perfectly. Nothing bad to say about anything in this category.
Story: 7
While individual scenes were able to really grasp my attention, on the whole the film's only real focus was on Daniel Plainview's character. So much of the film was left unresolved; the only real focus was on the man's villainy and greed. All the tensions of family; of his relationship with Eli; so much of these threads are just left loose and hanging at the end. There was little cohesiveness to the story, and that ultimately left me feeling a little unfulfilled.
Acting: 9
Now don't get me wrong; Daniel Day Lewis was phenomenal. His work alone was simply incredible, and felt genuinely creepy while maintaining notes of a kind of jealous affection for family, and that never-ending greed and urge to destroy all comers. Paul Dano was similarly masterful in his portrayal of Eli and Paul (mostly Eli, of course); the young would-be televangelist is brilliantly greedy and power-hungry himself, while still maintaining just enough pride and fear to make his actions with Plainview resonate. As for the rest of the cast, a solid performance to be sure. There was room for improvement on the rest of the cast, but the leads were fantastic.
Fun: 8
I enjoyed watching this film, and its gruesomeness and Daniel Day Lewis's performance were more than enough to keep me interested throughout. But ultimately, it felt a little flat. The story simply drops off with no real resolution, but nor does it leave any kind of contemplative or open-ended note of interest. It's not a film I would particularly care to see again, nor would I buy it on DVD; but I would recommend it to anyone who I thought would enjoy it. A good show, to be sure.
Peanut Gallery: I was extremely disappointed. The perfectly-crafted pieces were there: the cinematography, the music and the acting were all top-notch. If only the storyline(s) could have been woven into the mix with more finesse. I recommend checking out "Blood" to learn why DDL scored his Oscar; as for what else you're supposed to get out of it ... well, oil barrons are bad, and televanglists aren't above getting their hands dirty, either, which can spark an interesting discourse on our country's political climate, I suppose, but is nothing incredibly original.
Total Score: 36/40
Tied Second Place: Juno
Cinematography: 6
Jason Reitman does a lot of awesome little things throughout the course of this film. The _American Splendor_ esque drawing seques at the beginning of the film are a neat touch, to be sure. The slow zoom out at the last scene is amazingly poignant; the framing and the barely noticeable movement really add to the emotion of that scene, I think. Reitman also shoots the sequence when Juno pulls to the side of the road alongside the train tracks very well. Nothing particularly daring on the camera work here, but I really loved the attention to detail.
Sound: 3
A perfect soundtrack. The blends of diagetic and non-diagetic music work very well, and the choice of songs always have the right mix of quirk and cleverness to really compliment the film's tone. I can't think of anything I would change in this aspect, and it's a soundtrack I would own.
Story: 10
Where Atonement tries so hard to invoke an emotional response through what feels like manipulation, Juno succeeds and seems to do so effortlessly. The dialogue is quick, fun, and well written (reminds me of Kevin Smith). Add all that to a refreshing look at a subject that usually gets people's hackles raised, and you have a really brilliantly funny story. The fact that they manage to have a 16 year old girl pregnant; contemplate abortion; decide not to; and never be anything but supported by her parents and STILL keep you sympathetic towards the boyfriend without ever denouncing sex itself? Amazing.
Acting: 8
It's not that I can point to a poor performance on anyone's part; I really can't. It's just that the roles in general don't seem to be particularly challenging or exciting. Maybe it's more of a credit than anything to the actors that they seem so natural in their roles, but none of the characters seem to really push the ability of the actors, so I felt obligated to dock a couple points. Everyone was really good, just not blow-you-out-of-the-water good. Particular kudos to Ellen Page who manages to come across as fantastically sincere in Juno's lowest moments (the van on the side of the road, crying in bed, while Mark is being a jerk, etc.)
Fun: 10+
The plus has no numeric value here, but I just want to emphasize how much fun this film is. I was laughing out loud in the theatre even on my second viewing. Not only would I go see it again, buy it on DVD, and recommend it to just about everyone; this is the kind of film I could see buying the poster of and tossing up on a wall and putting the soundtrack in my CD collection. Seriously, this movie was just an amazing amount of fun to watch.
Peanut Gallery: I actually enjoyed this movie even more on a second viewing than I did on the first, which is a rare feat. The writers nailed the dialogue so naturally that it's downright eerie; "food baby" was already a staple in my friends' vocabulary before catching this flick, and those personalized touches like the hamburger phone and the orange Tic Tacs make the characters lovable and identifiable in a natural, effortless way that the other nominees tried so hard to emulate, but ultimately weren't as successful in. Similar to last year's "Little Miss Sunshine," you leave this movie just feeling GOOD - and in today's world, there's nothing wrong with that.
Total Score: 37/40
Tied Second Place: Michael Clayton
Cinematography: 6
Tony Gilroy does some really neat camera work in here. I'm glad he moved away from the shaky-cam motion-sickness inducing work he did on the last 2 Bourne films, but Michael Clayton has the same tension to it without making me nauseous. The lighting was always awesome; the editing while Arthur is chatting on the phone with Henry; the rotating camera on the end sequence on the escalator; all of those shots are composed and edited really well. My personal favorite sequence is the editing between Karen's preparation in front of her mirror and her live interview. Very cool work here.
Sound: 2
Nice use of music and effect, and good use of silence as well. Useful, but never mind-blowing or particularly memorable.
Story: 10
Love the chronological layout of the film. Readdressing the opening scene with new knowledge works really well (again, one major scene works well here; whereas Atonement's multiple uses of the technique get stale fast). The different threads of the story come together well; Michael's family tensions, his money woes, and the u-north case all flow together well without feeling like an artificial tie-up of loose ends. Gripping from beginning to end, and thankfully an ending that doesn't leave you wanting to tear your hair out. Great writing here.
Acting: 9
George Clooney and Tom Wilkinson are almost always gold when it comes to acting. Top-notch performance on both their parts, as well as by Sydney Pollock. But particular kudos have to go to Tilda Swinton for her work as Karen. The inner turmoil of the character; the alternate ruthlessness and crushing weight of anxiety and guilt; this is a beautifully nuanced and powerful performance. I'm really glad she won the Oscar for best supporting actress, because she earned it.
Fun: 10
It's a no-brainer for me here. I was on the edge of my seat for a lot of the film; I got into the story; I'm already planning to add it to my collection and want to watch it again; I've recommended it to anyone willing to listen to me...what else can I say? Not a funny-fun film, but an awesome ride and a fantastic piece of work.
Peanut Gallery: I was still half asleep when we climbed into our seats to catch "Clayton," which was the first of the five films shown during the Oscar showcase last weekend -- but not even 15 minutes into it, I was already wide awake and gripping the arm rests on my chair. Clooney always delivers, but the rest of the cast easily kept up the pace in this fast-moving, thinking man's thriller. I already can't wait to see it again to try and pick up on the clues I may have missed the first time around.
Total Score: 37/40
First Place: No Country for Old Men
Cinematography: 7
The Coen Brothers know what they're doing behind the lens. Look at the shot when Sheriff Bell is about to enter the motel room in El Paso, the way the light filters through the blown-out lock hole. Or the majestic shots in the desert; the use of light and of darkness in particular at the battleground in the desert; these are all just brilliantly crafted scenes and shots. The whole film embodies the brutal aesthetic of the story itself.
Sound: 3
One of the best things about this film is the total lack of soundtrack. Seriously, there's NO music here. Diagetic or non-diagetic. It's so tense at times that it does more than any screeching strings or frentic-percussion could to enhance the viewer's experience. Couple that with the sound effect of Anton's shotgun, the impact of the pneumatic-spike on skulls and doors, and you have a brutally efficient sound (and lack of sound) use.
Story: 10
This is an amazing story. The development of Anton's character; Llewelyn's self-sufficiency and hint of hubris; Sheriff Bell's fear; all these characters are not only beautifully developed but interact fabulously. The story keeps the viewer engaged and tense, but takes its time screwing with you. Even the ending, with Sheriff Bell's story of his father trying to tend a fire in the darkness and the cold, is powerful while not being completely dark. It's not that there's no hope left, it's more that there is great courage needed just to go out against these depths of darkness like Anton Chigurh.
Acting: 9
Don't get me wrong here. Javier Bardem is flat-out amazing. Same goes for Josh Brolin. Tommy Lee Jones is at his best here, though at teams his deadpan seems to clash with his supposed fear at the work of Anton. The rest of the supporting cast is solid, and certainly does a good job. Just not quite as good overall as some of the other films, and I could see room for improvement on the whole.
Fun: 10
I'm not really sure how to describe the kind of fun this film provided. There Will Be Blood often makes you wary of Daniel Plainview, but Anton Chigurh is flat-out terrifying. His insanity and his ruthlessness are amazing to watch; and really so is Llewelyn. The man's methodical nature and seeming coldness, only to explode in defense of his wife, is amazing to watch. And the scene at the motel? Really tears the rug right out from under you. Seriously, it's just an amazing film. Will buy it, will watch it many times, will recommend it to everyone, and wouldn't be surprised to see it make some film students' curriculum eventually.
Peanut Gallery: By far my favorite of the five. I went into the showcase convinced I was rooting for "Old Country" for best picture, and a second viewing solidified my opinion. The nail-biting suspence matched by Javier Bardem's creepy badass, Tommy Lee Jones' familiar sheriff and Josh Brolin's resourceful rogue all round out a really great story that's played out before the beautiful backdrop of what's left of the Old West. The scene between Bardem and Brolin in the hotel (seeing the shadow pause just before the shut door, and then the squeaky screech as the hallway lightbulb is unscrewed) is absolutely terrifying. Well done!
Final Score: 39/40
Well, that wraps it up. What I found interesting was that before I saw No Country again, I was convinced that I was going to be deciding between Juno and Michael Clayton for which was my best picture pick. But just seeing No Country really blew me away. It was an awesome day of movie watching, I only wish we had taken our dinner break during Atonement instead of Juno. Seriously, no more pretentious British crap, please! I just can't take any more.
09 January 2008
brain-pains
My head's been killing me lately.
I guess it's probably a result of the usual myriad of stresses in life. Fretting about law school apps; getting more caught up in my job than I always promise myself I will; freaking out about making sure I graduate this spring; trying to motivate myself to go run around the block or something; all of these things pile up in my head and could easily get cramped and cause the dull ache right between my eyes that doesn't seem to go away unless it's fed, beer-ed, or put to sleep.
Maybe though it's some sort of subconscious attempt to kick me in the ass. I'm not doing enough of what I want to, and that's pretty obvious. The bass is still picking up dust on the porch, even though every time I listen to "Music from Big Pink" or hear a good line in a Cake song I swear I'll pull it out and tune it up again. I don't write much of anything at all lately; and when I try to I often find my mind a total blank (for once). And the sedentary lifestyle I've developed certainly doesn't help anything.
Not that I'm complaining, mind. I know I'm drained from almost 4 straight weeks of overtime and only a few days off in between. The paychecks are useful, but the constant dreams of irate customers and Computers in need of work are less than soothing to my weary bones. The days off help, but usually they're mostly spent recharging, and before I know it, I'm back at work wondering where the time slipped off to.
Don't get me wrong though, I'm not complaining. Far from it. I've been really stoked to have gotten as much of my debt paid down as I have recently. To say nothing of the good times that I had on Christmas, new years, and the stolen days in between with friends and loved ones. I may be a bit weary, but I'm happy. Things are looking fairly good, with positive steps to be taken in the near future (hopefully). Nothing brightens the horizons like the prospects of a new frontier after all, and DC and Law School do shine pretty brightly in the distance.
Right now we're just talking about the headache. A dull little throb in the center of the forehead that seems to want to remind me of something, but has no interest in giving me any details. It's just going to throb until it gets what it wants, and that's my problem.
At least I've been back to the theatre recently. I'm too far removed from the films to write any semblance of a good review, but I can say that I really enjoyed both _Charlie Wilson's War_ and _Juno_. It was really something to see Aaron Sorkin writing well again, after the mess that was Studio 60 at times. And Juno was a real treat, with a surprisingly awesome cast. Both absolutely worth a $10 ticket and some of your time, if you're interested.
But I guess good films a couple of times aren't enough food for the beast in my frontal lobe. It's obviously craving something else. Is it Good Eats? Should my appreciation for Alton Brown's work be translating into more cooking? It's no secret I love to eat, so perhaps doing more on the supply side of that equation would give me some equilibrium. That seems vaguely plausible.
In the end though, I'm pretty sure it's just restlessness. This time in between is always difficult; waiting for the important stuff to start again, and feeling like the wheels are just spinning in the meantime. Maybe that's what this sensation is; tread marks on the inside of my skull while my brain does burnouts and waits for somewhere to race off to. Maybe it really would ease the pain to spend a couple hours sitting down with the 'ol 4-string and amp and tinkering out the line from "Lonesome Suzie," or "Italian Leather Sofa." Heck, I should break out the Alto and work on my chops, even if they'll squeak like Hell in the meantime. Others can deal with it; I miss the sound of a good horn reverberating through the house. To say nothing of my strong desire to play with other musicians again, and to have horns be involved in whatever project may arise.
But like I said, we're just talking headaches here. And it seems like a pretty good time for me to pop a couple aspirin and see if I can't shut mine up for the night. Maybe tomorrow I'll figure out what to feed it, but for now, I'll settle for forcibly shutting it the fuck up.
I guess it's probably a result of the usual myriad of stresses in life. Fretting about law school apps; getting more caught up in my job than I always promise myself I will; freaking out about making sure I graduate this spring; trying to motivate myself to go run around the block or something; all of these things pile up in my head and could easily get cramped and cause the dull ache right between my eyes that doesn't seem to go away unless it's fed, beer-ed, or put to sleep.
Maybe though it's some sort of subconscious attempt to kick me in the ass. I'm not doing enough of what I want to, and that's pretty obvious. The bass is still picking up dust on the porch, even though every time I listen to "Music from Big Pink" or hear a good line in a Cake song I swear I'll pull it out and tune it up again. I don't write much of anything at all lately; and when I try to I often find my mind a total blank (for once). And the sedentary lifestyle I've developed certainly doesn't help anything.
Not that I'm complaining, mind. I know I'm drained from almost 4 straight weeks of overtime and only a few days off in between. The paychecks are useful, but the constant dreams of irate customers and Computers in need of work are less than soothing to my weary bones. The days off help, but usually they're mostly spent recharging, and before I know it, I'm back at work wondering where the time slipped off to.
Don't get me wrong though, I'm not complaining. Far from it. I've been really stoked to have gotten as much of my debt paid down as I have recently. To say nothing of the good times that I had on Christmas, new years, and the stolen days in between with friends and loved ones. I may be a bit weary, but I'm happy. Things are looking fairly good, with positive steps to be taken in the near future (hopefully). Nothing brightens the horizons like the prospects of a new frontier after all, and DC and Law School do shine pretty brightly in the distance.
Right now we're just talking about the headache. A dull little throb in the center of the forehead that seems to want to remind me of something, but has no interest in giving me any details. It's just going to throb until it gets what it wants, and that's my problem.
At least I've been back to the theatre recently. I'm too far removed from the films to write any semblance of a good review, but I can say that I really enjoyed both _Charlie Wilson's War_ and _Juno_. It was really something to see Aaron Sorkin writing well again, after the mess that was Studio 60 at times. And Juno was a real treat, with a surprisingly awesome cast. Both absolutely worth a $10 ticket and some of your time, if you're interested.
But I guess good films a couple of times aren't enough food for the beast in my frontal lobe. It's obviously craving something else. Is it Good Eats? Should my appreciation for Alton Brown's work be translating into more cooking? It's no secret I love to eat, so perhaps doing more on the supply side of that equation would give me some equilibrium. That seems vaguely plausible.
In the end though, I'm pretty sure it's just restlessness. This time in between is always difficult; waiting for the important stuff to start again, and feeling like the wheels are just spinning in the meantime. Maybe that's what this sensation is; tread marks on the inside of my skull while my brain does burnouts and waits for somewhere to race off to. Maybe it really would ease the pain to spend a couple hours sitting down with the 'ol 4-string and amp and tinkering out the line from "Lonesome Suzie," or "Italian Leather Sofa." Heck, I should break out the Alto and work on my chops, even if they'll squeak like Hell in the meantime. Others can deal with it; I miss the sound of a good horn reverberating through the house. To say nothing of my strong desire to play with other musicians again, and to have horns be involved in whatever project may arise.
But like I said, we're just talking headaches here. And it seems like a pretty good time for me to pop a couple aspirin and see if I can't shut mine up for the night. Maybe tomorrow I'll figure out what to feed it, but for now, I'll settle for forcibly shutting it the fuck up.
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