Thinkin' 'Bout Sherpas

A Merry Christmas to All!

I'll Give You Banter

Repo Man

Why don't I own this movie?

Sub-thought: I'm pretty sure that Alex Cox doesn't know that this movie is as funny as it is. Maybe that's why it's so funny.

Shitty Writing 101

What they're doing here? Don't do this.

Unless it's the first movie, in which case, carry on-- but since I'm talking to a man in the past, you should really help Judy out with her pill problem. It's the right thing to do, hypothetical time travelling writer.

The Bitch Went Nuts

I'm saving the substantive stuff regarding Black Swan for a podcast that I'm doing with my friend Joe (titled "White Guys, Square Glasses," and I wish I came up with that title, thanks for asking). I'll try to be as brief as I can:

Black Swan is my favorite film of 2010. I almost loath to say it like that or even say it at all, because I kind of feel like I'm elevating it to an Important Picture as opposed to a good, fucking movie. I think part of the reason I don't take to some pictures is because They're Really Very Important and Touch Upon the Human Condition and that's a terribly obnoxious way to sell a movie. Black Swan is good. What's more is it's fun. After walking out of the movie, I realized something, which is that if Hitchcock were alive, instead of making half-assed thriller copycats, he'd probably end up making a movie like this. So, when I say fun, I do mean fun in the I'm-going-to-kill-my-wife-and-use-a-psycho-body-double kind of a way.

Which is a very specific kind of a fun, rarely found in nature.

Despite the risks of all three of you readers being sold a bad bill of goods, I'll keep on typing, because I'm pretty decent at it and Black Swan is worth sounding like a blowhard over.

I saw about six movies in theaters this year, so saying that it was my favorite doesn't count for a whole lot. Off the top of my head they were (in reverse chronological order) The Social Network, The Girl Who Played with Fire, Inception, Micmacs, and Avatar (in 3d!). They were all pretty good movies for wildly different reasons, ranging from wanton taser-centric violence to amazing feats of quantum cross-cutting to me not having to pay to see it (and in some cases, more than one of these reasons apply). So, for what it's worth Black Swan is better than Avatar.

Getting back to my concerns about over-hyping the movie and why I'm only just writing about it now is that I think one of the reasons I didn't like The Wrestler quite as much as everyone else seemed to (which is another discussion for another day) is that I had to hear people blabbering about how The Wrestler is the greatest movie of the decade and will redefine how I look at the wrastlin' circuit. I'm allergic to that kind of hyperbole. I think like most people I'm about as apt to avoid something or not like it because of the hype train driving it as I am to give an underdog a chance when everyone maligns it.

I can't say that was my entire reasoning for not being a huge fan of The Wrestler, but it's something that's been in the back of my mind for quite some time. It's not something that I want to happen to Black Swan, because I really do feel strongly about it. It deserves the chance to be great on its own without being obscured by public opinion one way or the other.

I think my experience with Black Swan definitely benefited from going into it with a completely blank slate. I knew what the basic premise was and I had seen the first trailer, but other than that, this movie was completely off of my radar. I honestly think this is the best way to see a movie, so the best thing I can say about the movie is this: Stop faffing about and go and see it post-fucking-haste. You won't be sorry.

And if you are, fuck you.

WA few last points before I shut the fuck up:

Black Swan isn't a perfect film, by any means. It's got a few hiccups along the road and some very questionable bits of dialogue, along with one of the most poorly judged jump scares of all time (send me a message if you can guess the exact scene I'm talking about). Though the movie, like all movies, I guess, is bigger than the sums of its parts and overcomes all of the small problems to create a surprisingly compelling story about Padme going cookoobananas.

Yes, it is better than The Wrestler. While it can be said that the two are companion pieces (at best) or "the same story, but with tutus" (at worst), it really is more than that. If you liked The Wrestler, you'll like this movie, and if you hated The Wrestler, that's cool, I won't judge you, you should still like Black Swan.

No, you don't need to give a shit about ballet to like it. I went with three other guys to go see it and we all had a pretty good time, despite knowing about as much about ballet as I know about baseball. The mere spectacle of ballet is entertaining enough for a non-dance fan to appreciate it and the drama isn't limited to backstage bitchfests (though there is plenty of that). I'm sure most people who saw The Wrestler don't care about wrestling at all, but still enjoyed it (or, in Pi's case, give a damn about Hasidic math). I imagine the same would hold true for this picture, with the added benefit of ballet being a much sexier subject.

I gotta say, I don't like either of the posters for different reasons. I thought the first one was a teaser poster because of the fact that Natalie Portman wasn't in it. I thought they were just using a stand-in to get the basic tone across (which is done for a lot of movies). Then I realized no, wait, that is her, how fucking weird is that? I mean, if you have one of the most beautiful women on screen in your movie, don't you want people to recognize that's her? I don't like the second poster because it's just kind of bleh. It's the one you see above, but I put it up because, I guess, it does get the basic premise across better than the abstract boner-killer that the last one was.

And, finally, yes, I do realize that my opinion is not significant enough to ruin Black Swan in your mind, but I want to be seen as a Negative Nancy about as much as the "Oh My God, You Gotta Listen to This Band" Guy. Those people are terrible.

Merry Christmas!

Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy with Will Ferrell & John C. Reilly from Will Ferrell

Gay, Occupied Paris

Click here if you want to see full color photos of Paris during the German occupation (or one of them, anyways).

This looks like the singularly least fun New Wave film that ever was.

The color on those is rather amazing. Not that color photos during WWII surprises me (color footage does, though, I mean, come on, that's amazing), but the variety of color is strange. It reminds me of Kodak Kodachrome. That's probably because of each stock's respective age (and subject matter) and not because of their actual visual qualities. It's just amazing to see one color version of the past look so different from another version of the past, when each subject, each time over laps. I guess it's like seeing Technicolor versus black and white. Each film stock gives off a different feeling that I really can't put my finger on.

Either way, I'm stealing all of this for the WWII comic. This you can be assured.

. . .

This needs to be shared.

My Average Saturday

Bronson.

"I had a very bad experience on the plane in from California yesterday. There was a man on the plane, sitting across from me, and they were showing an old Greer Garson movie. He said, Hey, why aren't you in that? The picture was made before I even became an actor. I said, Why aren't you?"
--Charles Bronson.

(via Roger Ebert.)

This is My Jam

This is what gets me going.

This is what I'd be blasting from the speakers if I were going to be mounting an attack on somewhere.

Cinecult and the Code of Conduct

Mark Kermode has to be one of my greatest influences when it comes to film.

Recently he released a Cinema Code of Conduct, which, even if you don't want to read the rest of this blog entry, you should read. Don't hold me against him.

The Code of Conduct is a Geneva Convention of how we should act at movie theaters. It's a line in the sand and, as I think about it, it's long over due, isn't it?

My love of Dr. Mark Kermode isn't a particularly proud declaration, it's just fact. I like the man. I think he's a fairly smart individual and I think when he isn't right, he's making a good argument for why he belives what he believes. In my mind that's what makes a good critic, not a person who always agrees with your all of the time (which is impossible and an insane thing to wish for), but someone that can make a compelling argument as to why they believe what they do. I've run into an innumerate amount of people who disagree with me on this and that and the other, but it's a rare few who can actually make a compelling argument regarding what they believe.

I know a lot of weinies and I know a lot of morons who put up an argument about as strong as Sudetenland's. It's sad and it's frustrating. I want a fight. I want to have a discourse with someone, even if I disagree with them. I mean, speaking, talking about ideas is the entire point of being human, right? So, yeah, I guess in this analogy, I am Hitler, but don't hold that against me. I just get perturbed when people fold like second-hand lawn furniture when encountering a philosophy different than their own. I mean, it isn't as though I'm that abrasive. I'm not so hostile that those who disagree with me melt before me. I am friends with and respect plenty of people who disagree with me on far more important issues than movies, so I don't think it could possibly be all on me.

Mostly on me, probably. I do love a good argument. If I was built any better, I'd feel the same way about a good fight.

Anyways, I love Mark Kermode. Kermode kept my head above water when all of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies were coming out. I didn't much care for the first one and I cared even less for the second one, but, at the time, I was alone among my friends and comrades. I was the one nail sticking out.

I guess that sounds like I was a martyr or something, but I just hated those movies. And I've always been critical of the crappier bilge that's been forced on us through the cinema. I don't know how I ever stumbled upon Mark Kermode, but I'm glad that I did. I like him. I like his style. I think he's funny and, unlike a lot of critics, I think he balances between acrimony and celebration in a rare way. He loves movies like Twilight, but he rails against QT's (because that's how he deserves to be referred to as) because of their ugliness. I like that. I like that a person can make an argument for things like that and not sad like a mad man.

And what I really appreciate is that even if you disagree with him (as I often have), you don't feel like a moron for doing so, because it's all fun. It's all art. There are very few things that are worth serious derision in Mark Kermode's world, but it's never the listener. I like that. That's what critics should be. There's a lot of things that Mark Kermode has in his lock box-- words like synethesia and phrases like mis en scene and comparisons like Bunuelian and songs like "Das Capital"-- but before he brings up all of those wonderful and difficult ideas, he's your friend.

He's your rather snooty British friend that has a sense of humor and he wants to watch good movies with you. And he's got Simon Mayo-- the friendliest man in all of England-- with him, which doesn't help.

Hello to Jason Isaacs.

I Feel Like I Already Know About This

Oh well.

Fake Criterions. Still as clever as the first time I might have posted it here.

Obviously some of these are better than others, but, as far as the quality parodies are concerned, they've got the tone down pat.