When I see a movie, there's a part of me of course that dissects the movie, that criticizes it. But I could never be a film critic because those criticisms are for me, so that I can become a better filmmaker hopefully by understanding what worked and didn't work for other filmmakers. I don't see the point of publishing my criticisms, particularly when the chances of the filmmaker seeing them is zero to none. Why should I criticize if not to be constructive?
When I see a movie, there's a part of me of course that has a gut reaction, that likes or dislikes the films for a variety of reasons that likely aren't technical. They can turn technical quickly, though. Liking the Keira Knightley Pride and Prejudice because it is so pretty ends up a compliment to the art direction and the fluid cinematography. Finding Twilight hilarious when it isn't supposed to be derides a bad story, bad acting, and so on and so forth.
When I see a movie, I want to enjoy it for whatever reasons. I never go into a movie wanting to hate it. Sometimes I'll go in expecting to not find it a good movie, but that doesn't matter because I still want to be entertained, which is why I've seen all three Twilight films despite holding no love for the franchise - they entertain me even if I don't think they're good.
It does matter to me if I think a movie is good or bad, but it matters equally if I think a movie is entertaining or not. As a movie-goer, I am an expert in neither, but in constant practice of deducing both.
Which one is more important to me? Well, that depends who I am watching that movie. If I am Sarah the Aspiring Filmmaker, it probably matters more to me if the movie is well-made or not. If I am Sarah the Amateur Movie-Lover, I don't really care about any faults of Tron: Legacy because I'm enjoying the ride so much. So I'll miss them, I won't discuss them, and I won't care.
These two sides overlap, of course. There's no helping letting them get in the way of one another, but that's good, because my favorite movies - maybe not the best movies ever made, but my favorite movies - fulfill both sides.
And I will criticize movies that people will roll their eyes about and tell me that it's not a "thinking" movie or that it doesn't deserve analysis or that I should shut up and just enjoy the ride, though honestly I don't do that to the extent several people I know do. To that I say it doesn't matter what the intention of the film was, it's what I take away that matters. If I take away from Tron: Legacy that lightcycles are badass, that's fine. If I take away from The Twilight Saga: Eclipse that Bella faces a common, old choice in fantasy fiction of choosing between the fantasy and the normal world in having to choose between her suitors, that's fine too. It's a selfish cause for me, to criticize films, because it gives me more to understand, helps me become better at my craft.
So what's the point of me rampantly denouncing the Twilight series as atrocious all over the internet? Sure, I do think they are bad movies, but who the hell is it going to help for me to criticize? Sure, some people have to do it as their careers and I don't deride them for that because they tend to be higher-profile, people listen to them (I amongst them) and listen to their advice based on their criticisms of films. That's great, because that can keep me from having a movie-going experience I might have regretted. Or, perhaps, it might keep me from having a movie-going experience that I would've enjoyed just the same, though it's likely hardly a life-ending dilemma if I miss out on Sucker Punch since the reviews came back bad.
It's the role of some to do that. It's not my job. Nobody's paying me, and even if they did, I don't want to. I don't like tearing down people's work for an invisible audience.
It always comes back to Ratatouille for me any time I breach these topics. Anton Ego knows where it's at. Even "bad" art takes effort, takes time, takes skill. Somebody wanted to do this and, likely, someone wanted it to be good. I'm sure there are the cases where it's ALL marketing, but honestly, there is something to this superhero trend - superheroes are interesting, fascinating, and sure, marketable - more than just some fat cat producer-type thinking it'll be a cash cow. That's part of it, but considering the things we see that work in these big budget flicks, even they have parts that stand up and shout "I WANT THIS TO BE GOOD." Everyone's definition of good might be a little different though. Put your cynicism aside, I'm not talking about one of those definitions being "it made money" - the definition I think would be most similar to that is "those explosions were so well-done the audience loved them." And sure, it takes some work to make good explosions, let's not pretend otherwise.
Whether it's a "bad" Hollywood blockbuster or a "bad" independent production, someone wanted to do something they thought would be good/entertaining. And why should we begrudge them that? We don't have to buy the tickets to see the movie if we don't want to, and if your cynicism is right, and in this case I imagine it is, not buying movie tickets will hurt all of these productions more than some scathing reviews. Saying "this is shit" will only go so far. Word-of-mouth is still powerful. For instance, I saw a rather terrible musical production on my college campus recently. What was I going to do to make sure none of my friends suffered the unfortunate fate of wasting their time seeing it? Not writing a nasty review in the school paper - I just told them it wasn't worth their time. Obviously, they'd make up their minds in the end if they were determined to see it, but it was one of those cases where it was so truly bad, I had to tell people it wasn't worth it. But my defense wasn't "well, the art direction was bad and the sound levels were rough and the script was jumbled" even though it was all true. My defense was "it's bad. It's boring. It's not worth it." Simple and still true.
Anyway, I'm going off on about fifteen tangents right now, so I will leave it at this. I think film criticism is, at a professional level, a generally good idea. However, as an aspiring filmmaker, criticism to me is important but a subject that must be handled well. When it comes to criticism, that's where we get into the specifics, complimenting and deriding different aspects. But if you criticize my film and you don't offer any suggestions, why should I listen to you? If you could make it better, then tell me how and I'll take your advice to heart. And if you have a gut reaction, an emotional reaction, a reaction that doesn't fit nicely into a proper critique, that's probably more important to me. I don't care as much if these small factors are good - if you liked my piece, or it made you feel something, that's important to me.
One of my classmates recently said that the best thing she ever heard from our professor was that her piece was doing what she had been trying to get her piece to do.
That's a pretty awesome feeling to know you're doing it right.
Showing posts with label film class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label film class. Show all posts
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Putting on The Red Shoes
Recently, I watched The Red Shoes for the first time. Not because it was recently released, not because anybody told me I had to see it, and not for a class. I watched it in part as a responsibility as a screener for Bard Film Committee but mostly because I was intrigued. I had first heard about The Red Shoes from A Chorus Line, where the girls sing about what inspired their love for ballet. Of course, everyone had seen The Red Shoes.
But I hadn't. And I haven't seen a lot of movies, a constant reminder I need to hash out at people when they assume that, being a film major, I've seen everything, from Raging Bull to Casablanca to The Room (which I also recently finally watched) to whatever random movie you can dream up. I can guarantee, I haven't seen a lot of movies. Just browse iCheckMovies.com. People there have seen way more movies than I have.
Back to The Red Shoes. It is a beautiful movie, a movie I would watch again, a movie that is both inherently similar and extremely dissimilar to Black Swan, another ballet movie only the one this generation will think of more often than a 1948 masterpiece like The Red Shoes. You can tell it is older. There are no gross-out moments, the psychology present inspired by the ballet The Red Shoes for our female protagonist is very different from the psychology inspired by the ballet Swan Lake for our female protagonist in Black Swan. The people in their lives are very different.
But I didn't write this blog post to compare and contrast two very different movies that both happen to follow a similar idea of a ballet affecting a ballerina's personal and professional life so strongly.
There is a moment in The Red Shoes that I kept wanting to bring up in my Aesthetics of Gaming class yesterday that stuck with me but I could never find the right moment, particularly because we were discussing something that the medium of film just wouldn't have fit in comfortably with. We were talking about narrative and games, the debate over whether games are narrative or if they merely share elements of narrative because games are so inherently different. We have spoken in the past about game logic and we spoke today about gameplay and about what are the characteristics of games, a question we have been approaching all semester.
In any medium's logic, there are things we would take for granted or that we do not question because of the medium. There are plenty of moments like that in every film. Film is interesting, not unlike most mediums in this way though, because people do expect different things of film logic. Sometimes we expect films to make sense linearly. Sometimes we expect films to test our suspension of disbelief. It doesn't matter whether it makes sense because it is in the film and that is how the film goes along.
The moment in The Red Shoes that stuck with me is not one of those more grand special effects moments come into play, like when the waves crash onto the stage or when the newspaper turns into a person and back into a newspaper again. The moment I am thinking of is when Vicky jumps, literally, into the red shoes on the stage. It is a moment of editing that has been used for a long time and a technique to signal a sudden appearance or disappearance. It is not new, it is not revolutionary, and yet I couldn't help but think "if this were not a film, if this were a real ballet, how would she get the shoes on? Would she sit down, pull off her normal ballet shoes, and put the red ones on? Would she go into the shoemaker's shop and emerge wearing them?" It too a while before it hit me - this isn't a ballet, it has no reason to be a ballet, and the logic that would fit into a ballet or some other form of live theater does not apply to film. This is a problem when people compare film and theater too literally, because the logic is so different. We don't need to see what we see in theater - we can see something much different. Both will make sense in their homes, but if we were to see theater logic in a film or vice versa, what we would see instead would be even odder, I think. If we had seen Vicky sit down and put on the red shoes, I would have thought "oh, well, she's performing a ballet in the film so of course they need to show the ballet logic she would actually be performing." But that would not fit in with the rest of the special effects we see throughout Vicky's performance of The Red Shoes. The film chose to use film logic in a way that we would understand that this is not how a ballet would go, but this is how the film goes.
This made me think, amidst our class discussion yesterday, about the way in which different mediums interact with each other and whether viewers or players are aware of those differences, if we just accept them, or alternatively, if using one medium's logic in another medium's would not be bothersome or noticeable at all. Many elements can cross between different mediums, as our discussion of elements of narrative fitting in with games proves, but there are techniques, there are greater pictures that are specific in their way to their medium, I believe. And it is odd to think about them, and jarring to imagine them cross-pollinating.
In the end, my main point is that I would encourage further observation for moments like that. That, and I think everyone should go see The Red Shoes.
But I hadn't. And I haven't seen a lot of movies, a constant reminder I need to hash out at people when they assume that, being a film major, I've seen everything, from Raging Bull to Casablanca to The Room (which I also recently finally watched) to whatever random movie you can dream up. I can guarantee, I haven't seen a lot of movies. Just browse iCheckMovies.com. People there have seen way more movies than I have.
Back to The Red Shoes. It is a beautiful movie, a movie I would watch again, a movie that is both inherently similar and extremely dissimilar to Black Swan, another ballet movie only the one this generation will think of more often than a 1948 masterpiece like The Red Shoes. You can tell it is older. There are no gross-out moments, the psychology present inspired by the ballet The Red Shoes for our female protagonist is very different from the psychology inspired by the ballet Swan Lake for our female protagonist in Black Swan. The people in their lives are very different.
But I didn't write this blog post to compare and contrast two very different movies that both happen to follow a similar idea of a ballet affecting a ballerina's personal and professional life so strongly.
There is a moment in The Red Shoes that I kept wanting to bring up in my Aesthetics of Gaming class yesterday that stuck with me but I could never find the right moment, particularly because we were discussing something that the medium of film just wouldn't have fit in comfortably with. We were talking about narrative and games, the debate over whether games are narrative or if they merely share elements of narrative because games are so inherently different. We have spoken in the past about game logic and we spoke today about gameplay and about what are the characteristics of games, a question we have been approaching all semester.
In any medium's logic, there are things we would take for granted or that we do not question because of the medium. There are plenty of moments like that in every film. Film is interesting, not unlike most mediums in this way though, because people do expect different things of film logic. Sometimes we expect films to make sense linearly. Sometimes we expect films to test our suspension of disbelief. It doesn't matter whether it makes sense because it is in the film and that is how the film goes along.
The moment in The Red Shoes that stuck with me is not one of those more grand special effects moments come into play, like when the waves crash onto the stage or when the newspaper turns into a person and back into a newspaper again. The moment I am thinking of is when Vicky jumps, literally, into the red shoes on the stage. It is a moment of editing that has been used for a long time and a technique to signal a sudden appearance or disappearance. It is not new, it is not revolutionary, and yet I couldn't help but think "if this were not a film, if this were a real ballet, how would she get the shoes on? Would she sit down, pull off her normal ballet shoes, and put the red ones on? Would she go into the shoemaker's shop and emerge wearing them?" It too a while before it hit me - this isn't a ballet, it has no reason to be a ballet, and the logic that would fit into a ballet or some other form of live theater does not apply to film. This is a problem when people compare film and theater too literally, because the logic is so different. We don't need to see what we see in theater - we can see something much different. Both will make sense in their homes, but if we were to see theater logic in a film or vice versa, what we would see instead would be even odder, I think. If we had seen Vicky sit down and put on the red shoes, I would have thought "oh, well, she's performing a ballet in the film so of course they need to show the ballet logic she would actually be performing." But that would not fit in with the rest of the special effects we see throughout Vicky's performance of The Red Shoes. The film chose to use film logic in a way that we would understand that this is not how a ballet would go, but this is how the film goes.
This made me think, amidst our class discussion yesterday, about the way in which different mediums interact with each other and whether viewers or players are aware of those differences, if we just accept them, or alternatively, if using one medium's logic in another medium's would not be bothersome or noticeable at all. Many elements can cross between different mediums, as our discussion of elements of narrative fitting in with games proves, but there are techniques, there are greater pictures that are specific in their way to their medium, I believe. And it is odd to think about them, and jarring to imagine them cross-pollinating.
In the end, my main point is that I would encourage further observation for moments like that. That, and I think everyone should go see The Red Shoes.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Thoughts on Children's Lit
It's been a while since my last post hasn't it been? Well, not to get too personal, but I've been having a rough semester and a very busy one at that. My film production class has left me wondering how I managed to even make it into the film department, my screenwriting class is kicking my butt at this exact moment with too much homework, and even my hundred-level religion class resulted in a shittily graded paper.
But do you want to know what is going pretty freakin' well this semester? My Children's Lit class.
I was just rereading my earlier blog post about The Girl Who Owned a City and thought that I would like to revisit my thoughts from that post about children's literature. I know, this is more of a movies and television blog and I certainly could rant about how this season of Dexter has been so slow or say how I've given up on House for now or commend Community on doing what it does best. I could rave about The Social Network or get unnecessarily excited over going to the new Harry Potter movie midnight release on Thursday night, but I'd much rather discuss the real shining beacon in my life right now, which is, surprisingly, this lit class.
Not that it's perfect. My first paper wasn't great, I haven't had time to do more than a general outline for the paper due this Wednesday, and I'm close but not quite at A level. I've finished some of the reading a bit after it was technically due and I've still yet to cover Twilight in the class, but there are so many interesting things to take away from this class, none of which I can do justice in a blog post at 1:30am, but I can give you a quick survey of the genius that is this class and this subject and my own personal relationship with children's texts.
We kicked off the semester with an excerpt from Alice in Wonderland, but not the whole text (originally on the syllabus, but, amongst a few others such as The Giver, Alice in Wonderland was cut in the end). The Wind in the Willows was next in all its episodic glory (my favorite being Rat's interactions with the traveling Rat he meets). The Secret Garden introduced me to Dickon and re-introducing me to creepy crushes on children (this would continue with Will Parry as I was inspired to reread The Subtle Knife during my "free time"). I even ventured into the world of fan fiction veer so briefly before realizing that writing Dickon's manner of speech accurately removed any sexiness. My desires for attractiveness and accuracy conflicted. Peter and Wendy told me that I really just didn't like the story of Peter Pan very much after all. The Twins at St. Clare's reminded me of my childhood addiction to series like The Boxcar Children and The Babysitter's Club: basic children's books that nobody really takes seriously after a certain age. The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe told me that, no, I don't like Narnia and The Last Battle that The Amber Spyglass did religion better. Also, we approached The Problem of Susan, and I started to get my ideas for my coming paper, wanting to approach my gender's role in all of this. What's so wrong with wanting invitations and nylons? On the flipside, we went over to The Golden Compass, one of my favorite books ever, and I was reminded how great the characters were and how one of my future cats should be named Iorek. The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm showed me another female character, though not the main protagonist, that I had originally written off but embraced by the end. Howl's Moving Castle was brilliant and I wonder how I'd never read it as a child. Officially decided another future cat shall be named Howl. I was also reminded that I am a sucker for a good literary romance - what's so wrong with Sophie and Howl having a happily ever after? Many of my classmates contested. Perhaps it's best we only read The Golden Compass and didn't introduce my beloved Will Parry. The Devil's Arithmetic brought me back to my middle school reading habits: American Revolution or Holocaust children's literature. How depressing! Magic made a comeback and time travel and another female protagonist, how fantastic! Finally, most recently, we've come to a collection of picture books and Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes. I don't remember ever reading any of the books: Where the Wild Things Are, Pat the Bunny, Goodnight Moon, Harold and the Purple Crayon, William's Doll, or Princess Smartypants.
Just take a glimpse through my notes from class sometime and you'll see a crazy amalgamation of ideas and concepts because in examining children's literature, it's not unlike examining adult's literature - there's quite a bit of everything. Adults have serialized literature that may not be brilliantly written, adults have historical drama and stories steeped in gender roles and fantasy and religion and science fiction. But when examining a whole group of literature, I never want to stop reading. I realized that today as I sat in the library, reading from our Oxford companion, filled with interesting essays on different topics in children's literature, we'd only read seven chapters of sixteen. I wanted to read them all! In fact, I want to read the gender roles chapter in time for my paper. I want to read the other dozens of books referenced.
Literature feels like a much more endless supply than movies or television. Not that one could watch the entirety of cinematic or televised history in a lifetime, but those mediums are so different from novels and poetry and essays and everything in-between. Children's movies are interesting and all, but there's something so much narrower about that library than the library of children's books. For exampls, film versions of these stories. Howl's Moving Castle was completely redefined and centered around a tale Miyazaki wanted to tell rather than the actual book's plot. The Narnia movies were even more ridiculous than the books, in my opinion. The Golden Compass, while well-cast, was watered down. I still have yet to see The Secret Garden. Peter Pan, the animated version, tries to simplify a simple story. Peter Pan, the live-action 2003 film, takes a completely different approach to the material, one which I might even like more than the book. And while Where the Wild Things is a good movie, in my opinion, it is an elongated version of the picture book from which the title hails. And that movie wasn't really made for kids so much as nostalgic adults.
There's a much more stream-lined narrative and style for "children's movies" than for children's books. Some of the worries centered around children's literature are much more apparent in movies for kids. Whereas some books are overly instructive or didactic, most movies for children are built around some life lesson moral that is hammered into the audience. Even in well-made features, such as Howl's Moving Castle, there is no escaping something so very clear. And gender roles are even worse in film, generally speaking.
I've always thought to myself which movies I would want to show my non-existent kids, being mostly a movie person. But I'm more interested now in understanding what books I also want them to read. The television I want them to watch. The games and toys I want them to enjoy. There is so much to learn, but even more to simply observe, to enjoy conflicting narratives that teach different lessons, allowing my kids their own agency of decision-making. It's easy to forget that kids aren't people too, but I'm still somewhat young enough to remember how intensely I thought about certain things and how not-intensely I thought about others.
Now is different. Now I see anything and I'm almost afraid I might over-analyze it. Everyday conversations involve some semblance of intellectualism. Ahh, college students, how they converse and interact. How they drag in the challenging of the concept of canon based on their children's lit reading from a couple weeks ago. But it feels so good to talk about those things, to have that perspective. Some might call it snobbery or elitism or silly to waste time learning about children's lit but there are so many ways to understand children, a huge part of this world, and one of which is to observe what goes into these texts and what comes out, whether it be in a college classroom or a child's bedroom.
My apologies for making this blog post so inherently steeped in my personal life. Unfortunately, I really don't have strong opinions about any movies or television I've watched lately (well, maybe except that the last few episodes of Glee have been a huge step up since the back nine, which were sometimes essentially unwatchable). Oh, well, I guess there's one big announcement: amidst my personal ~drama, I've started watching The Wire, which I am understanding to be one of the best television shows ever? Well, I'm certainly liking it. Liking it enough to start the second season rather than read the screenplays I need to for Tuesday.
But do you want to know what is going pretty freakin' well this semester? My Children's Lit class.
I was just rereading my earlier blog post about The Girl Who Owned a City and thought that I would like to revisit my thoughts from that post about children's literature. I know, this is more of a movies and television blog and I certainly could rant about how this season of Dexter has been so slow or say how I've given up on House for now or commend Community on doing what it does best. I could rave about The Social Network or get unnecessarily excited over going to the new Harry Potter movie midnight release on Thursday night, but I'd much rather discuss the real shining beacon in my life right now, which is, surprisingly, this lit class.
Not that it's perfect. My first paper wasn't great, I haven't had time to do more than a general outline for the paper due this Wednesday, and I'm close but not quite at A level. I've finished some of the reading a bit after it was technically due and I've still yet to cover Twilight in the class, but there are so many interesting things to take away from this class, none of which I can do justice in a blog post at 1:30am, but I can give you a quick survey of the genius that is this class and this subject and my own personal relationship with children's texts.
We kicked off the semester with an excerpt from Alice in Wonderland, but not the whole text (originally on the syllabus, but, amongst a few others such as The Giver, Alice in Wonderland was cut in the end). The Wind in the Willows was next in all its episodic glory (my favorite being Rat's interactions with the traveling Rat he meets). The Secret Garden introduced me to Dickon and re-introducing me to creepy crushes on children (this would continue with Will Parry as I was inspired to reread The Subtle Knife during my "free time"). I even ventured into the world of fan fiction veer so briefly before realizing that writing Dickon's manner of speech accurately removed any sexiness. My desires for attractiveness and accuracy conflicted. Peter and Wendy told me that I really just didn't like the story of Peter Pan very much after all. The Twins at St. Clare's reminded me of my childhood addiction to series like The Boxcar Children and The Babysitter's Club: basic children's books that nobody really takes seriously after a certain age. The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe told me that, no, I don't like Narnia and The Last Battle that The Amber Spyglass did religion better. Also, we approached The Problem of Susan, and I started to get my ideas for my coming paper, wanting to approach my gender's role in all of this. What's so wrong with wanting invitations and nylons? On the flipside, we went over to The Golden Compass, one of my favorite books ever, and I was reminded how great the characters were and how one of my future cats should be named Iorek. The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm showed me another female character, though not the main protagonist, that I had originally written off but embraced by the end. Howl's Moving Castle was brilliant and I wonder how I'd never read it as a child. Officially decided another future cat shall be named Howl. I was also reminded that I am a sucker for a good literary romance - what's so wrong with Sophie and Howl having a happily ever after? Many of my classmates contested. Perhaps it's best we only read The Golden Compass and didn't introduce my beloved Will Parry. The Devil's Arithmetic brought me back to my middle school reading habits: American Revolution or Holocaust children's literature. How depressing! Magic made a comeback and time travel and another female protagonist, how fantastic! Finally, most recently, we've come to a collection of picture books and Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes. I don't remember ever reading any of the books: Where the Wild Things Are, Pat the Bunny, Goodnight Moon, Harold and the Purple Crayon, William's Doll, or Princess Smartypants.
Just take a glimpse through my notes from class sometime and you'll see a crazy amalgamation of ideas and concepts because in examining children's literature, it's not unlike examining adult's literature - there's quite a bit of everything. Adults have serialized literature that may not be brilliantly written, adults have historical drama and stories steeped in gender roles and fantasy and religion and science fiction. But when examining a whole group of literature, I never want to stop reading. I realized that today as I sat in the library, reading from our Oxford companion, filled with interesting essays on different topics in children's literature, we'd only read seven chapters of sixteen. I wanted to read them all! In fact, I want to read the gender roles chapter in time for my paper. I want to read the other dozens of books referenced.
Literature feels like a much more endless supply than movies or television. Not that one could watch the entirety of cinematic or televised history in a lifetime, but those mediums are so different from novels and poetry and essays and everything in-between. Children's movies are interesting and all, but there's something so much narrower about that library than the library of children's books. For exampls, film versions of these stories. Howl's Moving Castle was completely redefined and centered around a tale Miyazaki wanted to tell rather than the actual book's plot. The Narnia movies were even more ridiculous than the books, in my opinion. The Golden Compass, while well-cast, was watered down. I still have yet to see The Secret Garden. Peter Pan, the animated version, tries to simplify a simple story. Peter Pan, the live-action 2003 film, takes a completely different approach to the material, one which I might even like more than the book. And while Where the Wild Things is a good movie, in my opinion, it is an elongated version of the picture book from which the title hails. And that movie wasn't really made for kids so much as nostalgic adults.
There's a much more stream-lined narrative and style for "children's movies" than for children's books. Some of the worries centered around children's literature are much more apparent in movies for kids. Whereas some books are overly instructive or didactic, most movies for children are built around some life lesson moral that is hammered into the audience. Even in well-made features, such as Howl's Moving Castle, there is no escaping something so very clear. And gender roles are even worse in film, generally speaking.
I've always thought to myself which movies I would want to show my non-existent kids, being mostly a movie person. But I'm more interested now in understanding what books I also want them to read. The television I want them to watch. The games and toys I want them to enjoy. There is so much to learn, but even more to simply observe, to enjoy conflicting narratives that teach different lessons, allowing my kids their own agency of decision-making. It's easy to forget that kids aren't people too, but I'm still somewhat young enough to remember how intensely I thought about certain things and how not-intensely I thought about others.
Now is different. Now I see anything and I'm almost afraid I might over-analyze it. Everyday conversations involve some semblance of intellectualism. Ahh, college students, how they converse and interact. How they drag in the challenging of the concept of canon based on their children's lit reading from a couple weeks ago. But it feels so good to talk about those things, to have that perspective. Some might call it snobbery or elitism or silly to waste time learning about children's lit but there are so many ways to understand children, a huge part of this world, and one of which is to observe what goes into these texts and what comes out, whether it be in a college classroom or a child's bedroom.
My apologies for making this blog post so inherently steeped in my personal life. Unfortunately, I really don't have strong opinions about any movies or television I've watched lately (well, maybe except that the last few episodes of Glee have been a huge step up since the back nine, which were sometimes essentially unwatchable). Oh, well, I guess there's one big announcement: amidst my personal ~drama, I've started watching The Wire, which I am understanding to be one of the best television shows ever? Well, I'm certainly liking it. Liking it enough to start the second season rather than read the screenplays I need to for Tuesday.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Ego: Anton Ego and yours.
When I think about which Pixar movie is my favourite - and believe me, as a clear lover of everything Pixar, I think about this often enough - Ratatouille usually isn't at the top of my list (though it is never at the bottom). But that isn't because I don't love it - I truly do. Ratatouille was a grand experience - my first real foray into appreciating animated "kids" movies as, well, not an adult, but a seventeen-year-old, who might normally think they're too good for an animated movie and fully capable of seeing every movie at that age (three years later, I still get thrown off when I get carded 'cause I'm just so used to seeing everything regardless of rating, something my thirteen-year-old self would be jealous of). I'd seen most of the other Pixar movies, I'd lived through the Disney renaissance, but not like this.
The main thing I take away from Ratatouille is not the beautiful main message of the film, the one whose slogan rings throughout - "anyone can cook" - and translates into a tale of rising above one's circumstances based on talent and drive. The most beautiful and meaningful message any film has given me is also the most grounding of them - Anton Ego's stunning review of his meal at Remy's hands.
"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more."
One reason I admire film critics and all people who love film is how they love finding something new to share with everyone else. It's such a pleasure to ask a friend, "have you seen ___?" and to hear them reply in the negative. Then, you are granted the opportunity to open their eyes to that world.
But it is that same admirable quality that I also can't stand in film critics, people who love films, and oftentimes even in myself. Because, as much as I love film myself, most people do not care nearly as much as people like me and people who dedicate themselves to a life of loving, understanding, and analyzing film.
We all have different opinions. Like everyone else, I fall prey to being upset when someone disagrees with something I feel so strongly about - people who refuse to see Star Wars or people who avoid animated movies because they're "for kids" or people who are too stuck up to appreciate the badassery of Death Race or people who are too bored with film to listen to my recommendations. But all of those people exist and I'd be a fool to hate all of them for those reasons. I love film, but people who only like it or don't like it at all are not any worse or better than me by that mere characteristic.
Ego's speech from Ratatouille, particularly the first few sentences, often give me the swift kick in the rear I think everyone involved in film (other fields too, I'm sure, but the entertainment and art fields in particular fall prey to this most, I feel) really needs. We all need a reminder that our opinions, what we say and what we write and all the time and energy we dedicate to our field isn't the be all and end all. So many people simply do not care about what we have to say or what we do. Saying that one movie sucks or one movie is awesome doesn't really matter at all, because we're all going to make up our own minds, and so many people won't even bother to do as much as they simply don't care enough to see the movie. You might praise some obscure title non-stop, but that won't it an instant classic. You might get a few more viewers, but there's no guarantee, no matter how influential your position is. Even Oprah doesn't reach everyone.
Our dedication and love for our craft matters to us, but not to everyone, so we shouldn't get frustrated or try to change the world to fit our style. I would never discourage anyone from doing what they love - considering my life as a film student, this is not news - but I would recommend not obsessing over it to the point where you simply cannot accept a contrary point of view.
Now, where does this all come from? Of course, it comes from a combination of Ego's speech always being with me and from the few negative reviews Toy Story 3, which I previously reported brought me to crazy-ass tears. There are two ways I can spin this little speech of my own. Firstly, I can say that it is totally the opinion of the reviewers to say what they will. As much as I may be prejudiced against and frustrated by the reviews, they're just opinions and they don't change how the movie made me feel.
The other thing to take away, though, is where the reviews are coming from. I won't dare to presume that these couple reviews come from anyplace unnatural or forced, but I know there are critics in the world who do enjoy being mean or contrary for the sake of their own enjoyment and to be different in some way or another. Or they choose to only look at a movie or other work of entertainment/art from a certain perspective so as to find the negative angles. To those critics, I say shame on you. Let your opinions come from your heart as well as your head. We can praise the technical achievements or complain about ordinary dialogue, but what really matters is what the film does for you, personally, and that's all we can take away. Each review is individual to the person who writes it and we might agree or we might not. We all appreciate different works for different reasons, and that's fine by me. I mean, my love for Toy Story 3 comes from somewhere deep in my heart, though I'd also defend most other aspects of the film. Other films, though intelligent and well-made and good in so many respects, may still leave me wanting more or totally emotionless.
I want to be involved in a movie I watch, not detached and watching it for the sake of observing it. As a film student, I do plenty of observing and, though it's useful, it's also work. Some films take work and it pays off, but others don't give me anything. And I like films that can absorb me and fill me up - there are good films that give and good films that take.
Anyway, I'm rambling. My point, simply enough, is that first and foremost, no man is an island and no one should ever assume that what they love would capture anyone else in the same way. As a film major with so few film major friends, I am reminded again and again that my friends really don't want to talk about movies 24/7, although I most certainly could. We lovers of cinema shouldn't be so full of ourselves... and believe me, plenty of us are that full of ourselves.
Second and final point: Within that larger scope of life on Earth in general, there is the smaller scope of the film world. Within it, none of us are the same. There are those who make film for entertainment and those who make it for art. There is plenty of success and plenty of failure in both categories. Let's not be snooty or untrue to our own tastes. I won't pretend I like something because other people do, but I also won't trash on something other people like just to be different. I wish more people lived by that.
The main thing I take away from Ratatouille is not the beautiful main message of the film, the one whose slogan rings throughout - "anyone can cook" - and translates into a tale of rising above one's circumstances based on talent and drive. The most beautiful and meaningful message any film has given me is also the most grounding of them - Anton Ego's stunning review of his meal at Remy's hands.
"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more."
One reason I admire film critics and all people who love film is how they love finding something new to share with everyone else. It's such a pleasure to ask a friend, "have you seen ___?" and to hear them reply in the negative. Then, you are granted the opportunity to open their eyes to that world.
But it is that same admirable quality that I also can't stand in film critics, people who love films, and oftentimes even in myself. Because, as much as I love film myself, most people do not care nearly as much as people like me and people who dedicate themselves to a life of loving, understanding, and analyzing film.
We all have different opinions. Like everyone else, I fall prey to being upset when someone disagrees with something I feel so strongly about - people who refuse to see Star Wars or people who avoid animated movies because they're "for kids" or people who are too stuck up to appreciate the badassery of Death Race or people who are too bored with film to listen to my recommendations. But all of those people exist and I'd be a fool to hate all of them for those reasons. I love film, but people who only like it or don't like it at all are not any worse or better than me by that mere characteristic.
Ego's speech from Ratatouille, particularly the first few sentences, often give me the swift kick in the rear I think everyone involved in film (other fields too, I'm sure, but the entertainment and art fields in particular fall prey to this most, I feel) really needs. We all need a reminder that our opinions, what we say and what we write and all the time and energy we dedicate to our field isn't the be all and end all. So many people simply do not care about what we have to say or what we do. Saying that one movie sucks or one movie is awesome doesn't really matter at all, because we're all going to make up our own minds, and so many people won't even bother to do as much as they simply don't care enough to see the movie. You might praise some obscure title non-stop, but that won't it an instant classic. You might get a few more viewers, but there's no guarantee, no matter how influential your position is. Even Oprah doesn't reach everyone.
Our dedication and love for our craft matters to us, but not to everyone, so we shouldn't get frustrated or try to change the world to fit our style. I would never discourage anyone from doing what they love - considering my life as a film student, this is not news - but I would recommend not obsessing over it to the point where you simply cannot accept a contrary point of view.
Now, where does this all come from? Of course, it comes from a combination of Ego's speech always being with me and from the few negative reviews Toy Story 3, which I previously reported brought me to crazy-ass tears. There are two ways I can spin this little speech of my own. Firstly, I can say that it is totally the opinion of the reviewers to say what they will. As much as I may be prejudiced against and frustrated by the reviews, they're just opinions and they don't change how the movie made me feel.
The other thing to take away, though, is where the reviews are coming from. I won't dare to presume that these couple reviews come from anyplace unnatural or forced, but I know there are critics in the world who do enjoy being mean or contrary for the sake of their own enjoyment and to be different in some way or another. Or they choose to only look at a movie or other work of entertainment/art from a certain perspective so as to find the negative angles. To those critics, I say shame on you. Let your opinions come from your heart as well as your head. We can praise the technical achievements or complain about ordinary dialogue, but what really matters is what the film does for you, personally, and that's all we can take away. Each review is individual to the person who writes it and we might agree or we might not. We all appreciate different works for different reasons, and that's fine by me. I mean, my love for Toy Story 3 comes from somewhere deep in my heart, though I'd also defend most other aspects of the film. Other films, though intelligent and well-made and good in so many respects, may still leave me wanting more or totally emotionless.
I want to be involved in a movie I watch, not detached and watching it for the sake of observing it. As a film student, I do plenty of observing and, though it's useful, it's also work. Some films take work and it pays off, but others don't give me anything. And I like films that can absorb me and fill me up - there are good films that give and good films that take.
Anyway, I'm rambling. My point, simply enough, is that first and foremost, no man is an island and no one should ever assume that what they love would capture anyone else in the same way. As a film major with so few film major friends, I am reminded again and again that my friends really don't want to talk about movies 24/7, although I most certainly could. We lovers of cinema shouldn't be so full of ourselves... and believe me, plenty of us are that full of ourselves.
Second and final point: Within that larger scope of life on Earth in general, there is the smaller scope of the film world. Within it, none of us are the same. There are those who make film for entertainment and those who make it for art. There is plenty of success and plenty of failure in both categories. Let's not be snooty or untrue to our own tastes. I won't pretend I like something because other people do, but I also won't trash on something other people like just to be different. I wish more people lived by that.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Theatre, Life, Movies, and Bloggin'
Hello movie world!
You may have noticed my dismal absence from this blog (if you're one of the zero people who reads this, anyway) and there are a few excuses. First and foremost, computer problems are the main cause, I suppose. I was without internet for over a week as my computer was having some serious issues. All is fixed now, though. Goody!
Suspect number two is THEATRE. No, worry not, I'm still planning on living out a life of movies and movie related shizz (I am moderating into Film and Electronic Arts this semester... hopefully...), but I am taking a theatre class entitled Directing Seminar this semester that is joyfully eating my life. I'm quite pleased to say that this is probably my favourite class this semester. Currently, I am directing a scene from A Doll's House with two lovely actors as Nils Krogstad and Christina Linden. We have six hours of rehearsal a week. I'm also directing/co-directing/performing in a Disney Musical Revue, so that's going to tack on an additional eight hours of rehearsal a week, at minimum, starting this week (directing meant that I had to be involved in auditions and casting and blah blah blah). But the directing seminar is great fun. The book is incredibly useful (for film directing in many respects as well, in my opinion) and rehearsals have been productive. I love making lists and organizing, and planning for rehearsals like that is fab. I've got stuff to prepare for my rehearsals this weekend for the Disney thing too.
But even though I may not have been blogging, I have been seeing movies and doing plenty of reading about the awards season. I finally saw Crazy Heart this past weekend. I also made my first video project (which kinda blew) and the second one is due next Tuesday. Personal life just keeps creeping up in here doesn't it? Well, that does make sense, since I hope my personal life eventually equates the lives I love discussing in this blog.
In the television realm, I finally managed to catch up on Caprica when I was home this past weekend. Good, good show. Very smart. Great characters. I'm really looking forward to more. I'm not as into it as I am, say, into Chuck or even True Blood, but I do watch it with a great interest for the moment, until it furthers my attention (I'm sure at some point it will truly captivate me, but for now, I'm enjoying the ride nonetheless). Chuck has been continuing to be fantastic this season. Chuck is my new favourite show to recommend to everyone. Unlike the other NBC show I used to watch, Chuck has a trustworthy team of writers and showrunners behind it and they haven't let me down for two and a half seasons. For the moment, they have my complete trust. Josh Schwartz knows what he's doing.
In the Oscar race, you can't believe how pumped I am with all that The Hurt Locker's accomplished. The night the DGAs happened, I had two dreams, one in which Kathryn Bigelow won and the other in which James Cameron won and I was so relieved when I woke up to find out that Bigelow was the winner. She deserves it. The Hurt Locker is the best of those movies nominated for Best Picture (even though I put Up above it in my favourite movies list, that doesn't reflect what I think is the best movie of the year, just my personal taste).
There have been several other revelations to me. Like how much The Blind Side annoys me as I think about it more. Not that it's a bad movie, but it's so simplistic and complacent. Maybe Invictus would've been better as a nominee. But The Blind Side is more popular, which is really the only reason I give it a leg up in my mind. Also, how much I want Star Trek to grab the sound award, how I feel it was robbed for a Best Pic nod, and how its subtle-yet-stunning special effects are better utilized than Avatar's mind-blowing-but-everywhere CGI. Best Visual Effects? Avatar, I suppose. But Best Use of Visual Effects? Star Trek. The District 9 snub for make-up hurts more everyday. As for Sharlto Copley's snub. I saw it coming a mile away, but he SO deserved a spot on that list. He'd have been my winner, even after watching Jeff Bridges go all loose-belted in Crazy Heart.
I know Sandra Bullock is popular with the industry and she's not likely to be nominated again with her usual line of work, but I still would rather see any of her competitors win (I haven't seen The Last Station yet, so I'll count Helen Mirren out for the moment, but I'm sure she earned her place). But Meryl, Gabby, and Carey were all fantastic. My personal favourite is Meryl although I'd also definitely give Gabby my major props. She's been overshadowed by Mo'Nique this awards season to an extent, when it comes to winning that is, but her performance was really great. Overall, I've come to appreciate Precious more and more as time goes on. I think I left it off my top 16 list and I sort of regret that now. Well, if I did. I might not have and I might just be forgetful right now.
As I go on in my life as an avid movie lover, I never question why I love it, and I think that's how I know how much I care about everything. From watching the awards season to the bloggers to the Yahoo! posts about random shizz to the need to check off all the movies I see on icheckmovies.com to watching video art in my Video class to looking at directing from the theatre perspective, everything I do just reminds me how much I love it.
Well, maybe aside from Philosophy and Film. We watch good movies, we have interesting discussions, but boy oh boy does that class assign way too much reading. And weekly prompts like asked for don't come as easily as, say, my documentary class' prompts last year. Blargh. I like film. But philosophy... not quite as much. Not always. Sometimes. This is my trouble class this semester. I just can't get into it.
But anyway, the point of this post is the ramble as usual to help prove that I'm still alive and kicking, that I am not here for lack of caring about the movies, but for a distinct love that keeps me distracted from being here and instead relegated to making short tweets about movie stuff. I've got most of my Oscar predictions set, although I'm still debating about original screenplay and, of course, the shorts. I'll be sure to share once I feel fully set. 'slaters.
PS: I do not approve of many of the things they are planning to do with the Oscars. I sincerely hope I am proven wrong when I watch the telecast... but we'll see. *shiver*
You may have noticed my dismal absence from this blog (if you're one of the zero people who reads this, anyway) and there are a few excuses. First and foremost, computer problems are the main cause, I suppose. I was without internet for over a week as my computer was having some serious issues. All is fixed now, though. Goody!
Suspect number two is THEATRE. No, worry not, I'm still planning on living out a life of movies and movie related shizz (I am moderating into Film and Electronic Arts this semester... hopefully...), but I am taking a theatre class entitled Directing Seminar this semester that is joyfully eating my life. I'm quite pleased to say that this is probably my favourite class this semester. Currently, I am directing a scene from A Doll's House with two lovely actors as Nils Krogstad and Christina Linden. We have six hours of rehearsal a week. I'm also directing/co-directing/performing in a Disney Musical Revue, so that's going to tack on an additional eight hours of rehearsal a week, at minimum, starting this week (directing meant that I had to be involved in auditions and casting and blah blah blah). But the directing seminar is great fun. The book is incredibly useful (for film directing in many respects as well, in my opinion) and rehearsals have been productive. I love making lists and organizing, and planning for rehearsals like that is fab. I've got stuff to prepare for my rehearsals this weekend for the Disney thing too.
But even though I may not have been blogging, I have been seeing movies and doing plenty of reading about the awards season. I finally saw Crazy Heart this past weekend. I also made my first video project (which kinda blew) and the second one is due next Tuesday. Personal life just keeps creeping up in here doesn't it? Well, that does make sense, since I hope my personal life eventually equates the lives I love discussing in this blog.
In the television realm, I finally managed to catch up on Caprica when I was home this past weekend. Good, good show. Very smart. Great characters. I'm really looking forward to more. I'm not as into it as I am, say, into Chuck or even True Blood, but I do watch it with a great interest for the moment, until it furthers my attention (I'm sure at some point it will truly captivate me, but for now, I'm enjoying the ride nonetheless). Chuck has been continuing to be fantastic this season. Chuck is my new favourite show to recommend to everyone. Unlike the other NBC show I used to watch, Chuck has a trustworthy team of writers and showrunners behind it and they haven't let me down for two and a half seasons. For the moment, they have my complete trust. Josh Schwartz knows what he's doing.
In the Oscar race, you can't believe how pumped I am with all that The Hurt Locker's accomplished. The night the DGAs happened, I had two dreams, one in which Kathryn Bigelow won and the other in which James Cameron won and I was so relieved when I woke up to find out that Bigelow was the winner. She deserves it. The Hurt Locker is the best of those movies nominated for Best Picture (even though I put Up above it in my favourite movies list, that doesn't reflect what I think is the best movie of the year, just my personal taste).
There have been several other revelations to me. Like how much The Blind Side annoys me as I think about it more. Not that it's a bad movie, but it's so simplistic and complacent. Maybe Invictus would've been better as a nominee. But The Blind Side is more popular, which is really the only reason I give it a leg up in my mind. Also, how much I want Star Trek to grab the sound award, how I feel it was robbed for a Best Pic nod, and how its subtle-yet-stunning special effects are better utilized than Avatar's mind-blowing-but-everywhere CGI. Best Visual Effects? Avatar, I suppose. But Best Use of Visual Effects? Star Trek. The District 9 snub for make-up hurts more everyday. As for Sharlto Copley's snub. I saw it coming a mile away, but he SO deserved a spot on that list. He'd have been my winner, even after watching Jeff Bridges go all loose-belted in Crazy Heart.
I know Sandra Bullock is popular with the industry and she's not likely to be nominated again with her usual line of work, but I still would rather see any of her competitors win (I haven't seen The Last Station yet, so I'll count Helen Mirren out for the moment, but I'm sure she earned her place). But Meryl, Gabby, and Carey were all fantastic. My personal favourite is Meryl although I'd also definitely give Gabby my major props. She's been overshadowed by Mo'Nique this awards season to an extent, when it comes to winning that is, but her performance was really great. Overall, I've come to appreciate Precious more and more as time goes on. I think I left it off my top 16 list and I sort of regret that now. Well, if I did. I might not have and I might just be forgetful right now.
As I go on in my life as an avid movie lover, I never question why I love it, and I think that's how I know how much I care about everything. From watching the awards season to the bloggers to the Yahoo! posts about random shizz to the need to check off all the movies I see on icheckmovies.com to watching video art in my Video class to looking at directing from the theatre perspective, everything I do just reminds me how much I love it.
Well, maybe aside from Philosophy and Film. We watch good movies, we have interesting discussions, but boy oh boy does that class assign way too much reading. And weekly prompts like asked for don't come as easily as, say, my documentary class' prompts last year. Blargh. I like film. But philosophy... not quite as much. Not always. Sometimes. This is my trouble class this semester. I just can't get into it.
But anyway, the point of this post is the ramble as usual to help prove that I'm still alive and kicking, that I am not here for lack of caring about the movies, but for a distinct love that keeps me distracted from being here and instead relegated to making short tweets about movie stuff. I've got most of my Oscar predictions set, although I'm still debating about original screenplay and, of course, the shorts. I'll be sure to share once I feel fully set. 'slaters.
PS: I do not approve of many of the things they are planning to do with the Oscars. I sincerely hope I am proven wrong when I watch the telecast... but we'll see. *shiver*
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Because Nobody Likes a Total Snob.
Two things.
One - I hate film snobs. I love movies. I love good movies. I love bad movies. I love commercial movies. I love experimental/artsy/etc. movies. Not all of any of those categories... but I can't help that. There are good movies I dislike (Let the Right One In... that's supposed to be a good movie, right?). There are bad movies I dislike (...this list would be much longer, but let's limit it to a piece of trash like You Don't Mess with the Zohan. Yeah, I wasted money on that movie). There are commercial films I dislike (er, again, this would make a long list, but I think Zohan fits here too). There are experimental/artsy/etc. movies I dislike (I don't see a lot of these, to be frank, but film class helps expose me to them and some just are not my style). But no matter what movie I see, even if I go in thinking I will hate it or like it or whatever, there's still a clear opinion that I cannot deny myself. Like Avatar, which I went into expecting to not be impressed, determined to not be impressed and was... impressed. Like Let the Right One In, which I'd heard was awesome, which people told me was great, but I walked away not really enjoying it. Like Twilight, which actually had some awesome moments for so bad a movie I will happily admit to (and honestly, with such shitty material, snaps to Catherine Hardwicke for doing it any decency).
So, pretty much, I just really hate people who rip on commercial films because of the industry. Or people who rip on foreign language films because for whatever reason people hate subtitles (honestly, I love me some subtitles; I used to watch movies in English with subtitles for kicks). Or people who rip on independent filmmaking because they think it's too snobby (unfortunately, too often, they're right). I dislike the pressure some people put on me as a socially conscious individual to avoid commercial filmmaking, to avoid Hollywood, to avoid supporting the big guy. And y'know what? I would love to focus in on independent fare. And I love independent fare. But you know what else? There are some major pretentious jackasses over there, just like there are some obnoxious full-of-themselves douchebags in commercial filmmaking. Wherever you go, there will be jerks. So I might as well watch and make movies that I like, whether it be through a big distributor or a small one. 'Cause, really, in the end, we can generalize all we want about each field, but there's no right or wrong way to make a movie. And I tend to prefer movies made for art rather than money, but there are some SHITTY movies made for art rather than money too.
To all you film snobs out there determined to hate big movies, to diss on The Dark Knight because it's too commercial to like, like my former college film advisor, who complained about the Hollywoodization of Milk: shut the fuck up and just enjoy the movies. You can criticize the roots separately, but the movie itself is something worth approaching and appreciating without major critique to where it is coming from. Just enjoy the experience without the jadedness while you're watching it. Relive that innocence within you. It's refreshing, believe me.
On that note, yes, I do like Juno. No, I do not think it is the bee's knees, I think it is wildly overrated but still a good movie. Yes, I do have something against Diablo Cody and it's not just her "dress" she wore when she won an Oscar. Although I appreciate where her attitude of "I'm so awesome" comes from, I dislike what she does with it, promoting the most crappy eclectic things as she can and being the ultimate hipster goddess. Jesus H. Christ.
I can get a bit snobby about movies, but believe me, I like my fair share of crappy movies, commercial products, and movies from many walks of... production. I rented Maid in Manhattan like once a week when I was 12. I LOVED that movie. I still think it's kind of cute. >.>
Two - I am seeing Up in the Air tomorrow. I am excited.
One - I hate film snobs. I love movies. I love good movies. I love bad movies. I love commercial movies. I love experimental/artsy/etc. movies. Not all of any of those categories... but I can't help that. There are good movies I dislike (Let the Right One In... that's supposed to be a good movie, right?). There are bad movies I dislike (...this list would be much longer, but let's limit it to a piece of trash like You Don't Mess with the Zohan. Yeah, I wasted money on that movie). There are commercial films I dislike (er, again, this would make a long list, but I think Zohan fits here too). There are experimental/artsy/etc. movies I dislike (I don't see a lot of these, to be frank, but film class helps expose me to them and some just are not my style). But no matter what movie I see, even if I go in thinking I will hate it or like it or whatever, there's still a clear opinion that I cannot deny myself. Like Avatar, which I went into expecting to not be impressed, determined to not be impressed and was... impressed. Like Let the Right One In, which I'd heard was awesome, which people told me was great, but I walked away not really enjoying it. Like Twilight, which actually had some awesome moments for so bad a movie I will happily admit to (and honestly, with such shitty material, snaps to Catherine Hardwicke for doing it any decency).
So, pretty much, I just really hate people who rip on commercial films because of the industry. Or people who rip on foreign language films because for whatever reason people hate subtitles (honestly, I love me some subtitles; I used to watch movies in English with subtitles for kicks). Or people who rip on independent filmmaking because they think it's too snobby (unfortunately, too often, they're right). I dislike the pressure some people put on me as a socially conscious individual to avoid commercial filmmaking, to avoid Hollywood, to avoid supporting the big guy. And y'know what? I would love to focus in on independent fare. And I love independent fare. But you know what else? There are some major pretentious jackasses over there, just like there are some obnoxious full-of-themselves douchebags in commercial filmmaking. Wherever you go, there will be jerks. So I might as well watch and make movies that I like, whether it be through a big distributor or a small one. 'Cause, really, in the end, we can generalize all we want about each field, but there's no right or wrong way to make a movie. And I tend to prefer movies made for art rather than money, but there are some SHITTY movies made for art rather than money too.
To all you film snobs out there determined to hate big movies, to diss on The Dark Knight because it's too commercial to like, like my former college film advisor, who complained about the Hollywoodization of Milk: shut the fuck up and just enjoy the movies. You can criticize the roots separately, but the movie itself is something worth approaching and appreciating without major critique to where it is coming from. Just enjoy the experience without the jadedness while you're watching it. Relive that innocence within you. It's refreshing, believe me.
On that note, yes, I do like Juno. No, I do not think it is the bee's knees, I think it is wildly overrated but still a good movie. Yes, I do have something against Diablo Cody and it's not just her "dress" she wore when she won an Oscar. Although I appreciate where her attitude of "I'm so awesome" comes from, I dislike what she does with it, promoting the most crappy eclectic things as she can and being the ultimate hipster goddess. Jesus H. Christ.
I can get a bit snobby about movies, but believe me, I like my fair share of crappy movies, commercial products, and movies from many walks of... production. I rented Maid in Manhattan like once a week when I was 12. I LOVED that movie. I still think it's kind of cute. >.>
Two - I am seeing Up in the Air tomorrow. I am excited.
Friday, November 20, 2009
On FlashForward, TV this season, New Moon, The Blind Side, Film Class, and Precious (granted, Precious got one sentence...)
Last night's FlashForward was quite good, wasn't it? And I am really liking V as well as it progresses. Although I started off the season more focused on the new comedies (Modern Family, Community, and Glee), I find myself slinking more toward the sci-fi dramas because, well, they're awesome (nothing against the other shows; they're quite good as well). Although I am loathe to admit that I am not as passionately crazy about Glee as I was in the beginning, I still am a big Gleek at heart, downloading the music and episodes as soon as I can. But last night's character-driven FlashForward? So freakin' GOOD. I am really excited to see more of Keiko; she seems like such a great character.
In other news, you may all have heard of a little movie coming out today called New Moon (which, if I even bother to pay money to see, won't be for another month when the fangirl numbers coming en masse to theatres have dropped considerably), which I am psyched to see being critically smashed to pieces. The funny thing is, the worse the reviews are, the more I want to see the movie. If it was just a snooze-fest of "eh, blegh" I would be disappointed. But hearing about the poor effects, the funny camera angles, and the hilarity of it all (thank you TWoP) just makes me interested in having a few laughs. Twilight made me crack up consistently, for example, so I have a feeling New Moon can entertain appropriately as well. Unfortunately, New Moon will kick ass at the box office. Blargh.
I am seeing Precious a week from tomorrow. I am excited!
And I have finally discovered the art of editing. I mean, my editing may be shit for all I know, but hey! I have now edited three approx. three minute projects. Booyah. This weekend is "get shit done for film class" weekend, which also means I need to shoot my fifth project. Fun fun times! Next weekend is internship weekend, the first weekend of December is jazz class weekend, and the last weekend of the semester is "oh hay, final paper for lit class!" weekend. Yeah. Fun fun times.
And on a final note, you have no idea how glad I am that The Blind Side has been getting reasonably good reviews. It makes me feel like less of a total loser for genuinely wanting to see that movie.
In other news, you may all have heard of a little movie coming out today called New Moon (which, if I even bother to pay money to see, won't be for another month when the fangirl numbers coming en masse to theatres have dropped considerably), which I am psyched to see being critically smashed to pieces. The funny thing is, the worse the reviews are, the more I want to see the movie. If it was just a snooze-fest of "eh, blegh" I would be disappointed. But hearing about the poor effects, the funny camera angles, and the hilarity of it all (thank you TWoP) just makes me interested in having a few laughs. Twilight made me crack up consistently, for example, so I have a feeling New Moon can entertain appropriately as well. Unfortunately, New Moon will kick ass at the box office. Blargh.
I am seeing Precious a week from tomorrow. I am excited!
And I have finally discovered the art of editing. I mean, my editing may be shit for all I know, but hey! I have now edited three approx. three minute projects. Booyah. This weekend is "get shit done for film class" weekend, which also means I need to shoot my fifth project. Fun fun times! Next weekend is internship weekend, the first weekend of December is jazz class weekend, and the last weekend of the semester is "oh hay, final paper for lit class!" weekend. Yeah. Fun fun times.
And on a final note, you have no idea how glad I am that The Blind Side has been getting reasonably good reviews. It makes me feel like less of a total loser for genuinely wanting to see that movie.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
A Stroll Down (Movie) Memory Lane: Rashomon and Do the Right Thing
Isn't one of the most fun parts about watching movies seeing how they unfold? No matter if it's a romantic movie or an actual mystery, a horror film or a dramedy, there is a want for some sort of resolution. That doesn't mean everyone needs to have a happy ending, of course, or even a proper ending. As much as the "end" of Broken Flowers, as uninformative and useless as it is, frustrates me, it's still some sort of end as we see Billy Murray knocking on the door; presumably there is an ending beyond the "ending" we see. Although many movies refuse to find resolution, very few dare to take the Rashomon step and absolutely refuse to endorse any ending to the story. Part of me is very glad of this, as I am a huge fan of endings. I am one of those people who totally did not mind in the LEAST the zillion endings of Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. But then, I'd also be lying if I said I did not genuinely enjoy the twister that is Rashomon.
Possibly incomparable, I also think that Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing is, in many ways, lacking resolution. Sure, it ends, life goes on beyond the deeds of that day in the movie, but there is, once again, never a real endorsement for any character's path. They all tried to do the "right thing" and audience members walk away differing in their opinion as to who did the right thing (at least, kids in my film class definitely had varied opinions) or if anybody did at all or even if they intended to or not. But without going beyond any knowledge aside from having watched the film itself, I would make a guess that that is part of the film's premise, not telling us who is right or who is wrong.
But am I saying that Akira Kurosawa and Spike Lee are soulmates? Hardly, especially since this bizarre lack of commentary is used in different ways by the two films. The story within Rashomon is never resolved, but there is a clear story in Do the Right Thing, rather, it's the meaning of the actions, not the actions themselves that are difficult to discern.
Is this making any sense? Perhaps not. I was simply revisiting my old film journals from my History and Aesthetics of Film class from last fall and, although I have thought about this before, I was really bringing it back. This isn't to say that there aren't other films that behave in this way, as I'm sure I've seen plenty, but these are two films that stick with me with their "messages" that aren't the typical message, telling us that sometimes you can't resolve things, sometimes it's impossible to figure out who did the right thing or who is telling the truth, and there is a great beauty in that that I deeply appreciate in both films.
To maybe help make some more sense, here are excerpts from my original film journals for the two films. The parts cut out, about half of each journal, have to do with the visual style (it was a class about the history and aesthetics of film) of each film, which isn't really pertinent to the subject at hand.
Rashomon:
"Plot-wise, from the very beginning, we are told that this is an unsolvable tale, but like the man listening in, we too believe we can determine the truth of it all. So we, like the man on screen, hear the four different tales. But how can we know which one is true? Do any of them have any truer elements than the others? They all share common aspects: the same characters, the same location, the same props and costumes, and sometimes similar or the same dialogue. From the bits of evidence we have, shouldn’t we be able to deduct who is telling the truth and who is lying? But then, how could we? There is nothing more honest in one of the stories than the other and none of the characters is painted as trustworthy. Like the listening man, we are left disappointed in our inability to solve the mystery in the end, and like the depressed monk, we too are left with a little less faith in humanity. But the epilogue was a comfort, and although the mystery remains unsolved, that doesn’t mean every mystery cannot be solved or that every person is untrustworthy."
and then here we have...
Do the Right Thing:
The title of the film is perfect as it is near impossible to really say that anybody did the right thing. Maybe the audience ought to do the right thing rather than any of the things we saw the characters do. Or maybe each character thought they were doing the right thing. Nobody really wanted trouble, but they all seemed to find it unavoidable throughout the day. Sal was trying to do the right thing by serving the neighborhood. Buggin’ Out thought he was doing the right thing by protesting the hall of fame, which he saw as racist. Mookie thought he was doing the right thing by enacting some kind of revenge on Sal’s for the atrocity of Radio Raheem’s death. Nobody really tried to do things wrong. But people don’t really know what the right thing to do is. They just try.
Possibly incomparable, I also think that Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing is, in many ways, lacking resolution. Sure, it ends, life goes on beyond the deeds of that day in the movie, but there is, once again, never a real endorsement for any character's path. They all tried to do the "right thing" and audience members walk away differing in their opinion as to who did the right thing (at least, kids in my film class definitely had varied opinions) or if anybody did at all or even if they intended to or not. But without going beyond any knowledge aside from having watched the film itself, I would make a guess that that is part of the film's premise, not telling us who is right or who is wrong.
But am I saying that Akira Kurosawa and Spike Lee are soulmates? Hardly, especially since this bizarre lack of commentary is used in different ways by the two films. The story within Rashomon is never resolved, but there is a clear story in Do the Right Thing, rather, it's the meaning of the actions, not the actions themselves that are difficult to discern.
Is this making any sense? Perhaps not. I was simply revisiting my old film journals from my History and Aesthetics of Film class from last fall and, although I have thought about this before, I was really bringing it back. This isn't to say that there aren't other films that behave in this way, as I'm sure I've seen plenty, but these are two films that stick with me with their "messages" that aren't the typical message, telling us that sometimes you can't resolve things, sometimes it's impossible to figure out who did the right thing or who is telling the truth, and there is a great beauty in that that I deeply appreciate in both films.
To maybe help make some more sense, here are excerpts from my original film journals for the two films. The parts cut out, about half of each journal, have to do with the visual style (it was a class about the history and aesthetics of film) of each film, which isn't really pertinent to the subject at hand.
Rashomon:
"Plot-wise, from the very beginning, we are told that this is an unsolvable tale, but like the man listening in, we too believe we can determine the truth of it all. So we, like the man on screen, hear the four different tales. But how can we know which one is true? Do any of them have any truer elements than the others? They all share common aspects: the same characters, the same location, the same props and costumes, and sometimes similar or the same dialogue. From the bits of evidence we have, shouldn’t we be able to deduct who is telling the truth and who is lying? But then, how could we? There is nothing more honest in one of the stories than the other and none of the characters is painted as trustworthy. Like the listening man, we are left disappointed in our inability to solve the mystery in the end, and like the depressed monk, we too are left with a little less faith in humanity. But the epilogue was a comfort, and although the mystery remains unsolved, that doesn’t mean every mystery cannot be solved or that every person is untrustworthy."
and then here we have...
Do the Right Thing:
The title of the film is perfect as it is near impossible to really say that anybody did the right thing. Maybe the audience ought to do the right thing rather than any of the things we saw the characters do. Or maybe each character thought they were doing the right thing. Nobody really wanted trouble, but they all seemed to find it unavoidable throughout the day. Sal was trying to do the right thing by serving the neighborhood. Buggin’ Out thought he was doing the right thing by protesting the hall of fame, which he saw as racist. Mookie thought he was doing the right thing by enacting some kind of revenge on Sal’s for the atrocity of Radio Raheem’s death. Nobody really tried to do things wrong. But people don’t really know what the right thing to do is. They just try.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Stealing From My Livejournal Part XXVIII
As I use my livejournal for little else except for movie rants and decided to switch over here, I thought I'd recruit some older posts so as to show a history. I'll bother with new ones as they come to me.
From February 26, 2009:
"So I was just writing my weekly report for Intro to Documentary Media and we're doing WW2 based propaganda films this week, so I just read comments by Andre Bazin on Why We Fight where he writes about the appeal of making documentaries based off of wars. Because of this, I thought it would be nifty if I wrote about the documentary No End In Sight as we are supposed to be watching a documentary a week outside of class (but not really; more like we're supposed to relate a documentary we've seen outside of class to the readings/discussions/other films we're watching) and write about said documentary. As it is about the Iraq War it certainly says something about the appeal of war-based documentaries, also the use of editing in No End in Sight is really poignant and it presents a particular viewpoint about from "hey guys, here's the Iraq War going on."
And then just as soon as I finished that and printed it out, I go to check my e-mail, and the Yahoo News story is: Iraq Withdrawl Gets Date.
This is weird because I said in my weekly report that there was still no end (I didn't add the "in sight" part because I knew that it was something Obama planned to work on, thank goodness). But what timing to have this announced at the same time I'm writing this!
Oh also I feel very proud; I did almost all of my documentary reading this week. I have all of it done except for the bit I have to read in one of our books I'm going to go do now; I just wanted to write my weekly report before I forgot about my idea. I just hope that my professor isn't like "well, ACTUALLY" about my comment on there being no end.
One more thing about documentary. So, today in our screening, we watched Listen to Britain and Triumph of the Will. The latter got kind of long and repetitive (its point, but as the Nazi regime isn't really one to be enthused about anymore, it got a little boring). So my film pal Molly and I ended up just fooling around 'cause the professor left at the beginning of the screening; staff meeting. There was this funny shot of this guy hanging on a pole during Hitler's visit to the Hitler Youth (I think that was the segment anyway) and Molly and I found this really funny and for some reason we started saying all these famous movie lines but adding pole at the end. Like, "I don't know how to quit you, pole!" and "You complete me, pole!" It was quite hilarious so we were laughing a lot. Also at the fact that Hitler's pants and belt, as well as most SS members, made his ass look really big. We also made up, based on the "awkward turtle" the "awkward German" where you do the awkward turtle, just where a moustache would grow (like Hitler's!) Then Molly was texting with her friend about the upcoming Spiderman the Musical and naming a bunch of funny song titles, and I started performing some of them. We found this all incredibly hilarious, including some other random stuff. And I couldn't control my laughter (I was really low on sleep last night), so I kept repeating, like "I know this isn't a comedy! But I can't stop laughing anyway!" Oh and I also had this awesome deja vu moment where I told Molly that I was writing in my notes about "check out the bitchin' Nazi flags!"
Anyway, I am not some idiot who would dare undermine the horrors that the Nazi party committed and all the shit that went down because of stuff like Triumph of the Will and the strength and power of Nazi Germany.
However, some lame kid in our class, disagreed.
After the screening ended, he came down to talk to me and Molly and he asked "You... you guys know that wasn't a comedy, right?" he said condescendingly. I gave him this look and responded with a "Yeah..." with a facial expression that said "duh." Apparently Molly has another class with him or else has heard more about him; apparently he's a douche; said he does a lot of playwriting and thinks he's the next Chekov. We bitched about him for a while until we parted. What a nosy little condescending bastard. Yeah, we're totally assholes who don't understand what that documentary was about or the impact of it and its featured star."
From February 26, 2009:
"So I was just writing my weekly report for Intro to Documentary Media and we're doing WW2 based propaganda films this week, so I just read comments by Andre Bazin on Why We Fight where he writes about the appeal of making documentaries based off of wars. Because of this, I thought it would be nifty if I wrote about the documentary No End In Sight as we are supposed to be watching a documentary a week outside of class (but not really; more like we're supposed to relate a documentary we've seen outside of class to the readings/discussions/other films we're watching) and write about said documentary. As it is about the Iraq War it certainly says something about the appeal of war-based documentaries, also the use of editing in No End in Sight is really poignant and it presents a particular viewpoint about from "hey guys, here's the Iraq War going on."
And then just as soon as I finished that and printed it out, I go to check my e-mail, and the Yahoo News story is: Iraq Withdrawl Gets Date.
This is weird because I said in my weekly report that there was still no end (I didn't add the "in sight" part because I knew that it was something Obama planned to work on, thank goodness). But what timing to have this announced at the same time I'm writing this!
Oh also I feel very proud; I did almost all of my documentary reading this week. I have all of it done except for the bit I have to read in one of our books I'm going to go do now; I just wanted to write my weekly report before I forgot about my idea. I just hope that my professor isn't like "well, ACTUALLY" about my comment on there being no end.
One more thing about documentary. So, today in our screening, we watched Listen to Britain and Triumph of the Will. The latter got kind of long and repetitive (its point, but as the Nazi regime isn't really one to be enthused about anymore, it got a little boring). So my film pal Molly and I ended up just fooling around 'cause the professor left at the beginning of the screening; staff meeting. There was this funny shot of this guy hanging on a pole during Hitler's visit to the Hitler Youth (I think that was the segment anyway) and Molly and I found this really funny and for some reason we started saying all these famous movie lines but adding pole at the end. Like, "I don't know how to quit you, pole!" and "You complete me, pole!" It was quite hilarious so we were laughing a lot. Also at the fact that Hitler's pants and belt, as well as most SS members, made his ass look really big. We also made up, based on the "awkward turtle" the "awkward German" where you do the awkward turtle, just where a moustache would grow (like Hitler's!) Then Molly was texting with her friend about the upcoming Spiderman the Musical and naming a bunch of funny song titles, and I started performing some of them. We found this all incredibly hilarious, including some other random stuff. And I couldn't control my laughter (I was really low on sleep last night), so I kept repeating, like "I know this isn't a comedy! But I can't stop laughing anyway!" Oh and I also had this awesome deja vu moment where I told Molly that I was writing in my notes about "check out the bitchin' Nazi flags!"
Anyway, I am not some idiot who would dare undermine the horrors that the Nazi party committed and all the shit that went down because of stuff like Triumph of the Will and the strength and power of Nazi Germany.
However, some lame kid in our class, disagreed.
After the screening ended, he came down to talk to me and Molly and he asked "You... you guys know that wasn't a comedy, right?" he said condescendingly. I gave him this look and responded with a "Yeah..." with a facial expression that said "duh." Apparently Molly has another class with him or else has heard more about him; apparently he's a douche; said he does a lot of playwriting and thinks he's the next Chekov. We bitched about him for a while until we parted. What a nosy little condescending bastard. Yeah, we're totally assholes who don't understand what that documentary was about or the impact of it and its featured star."
Stealing From My Livejournal Part XIX
As I use my livejournal for little else except for movie rants and decided to switch over here, I thought I'd recruit some older posts so as to show a history. I'll bother with new ones as they come to me.
From January 3, 2009:
"Saw The Reader today.
Gonna keep this short and sweet:
Another movie (see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Twilight, as Luba so rightly quoted Harrison's statement) with pedophilia. Mmmm, who knew Kate Winslet liked fifteen-year-old boys?
(oh and it was good, but considering like the first hour is filled with sexsexsex that was kind of the reigning thought in my head for a good chunk of the movie)
And I got a fucking B+ in History and Aesthetics of Film. >.<"
From January 3, 2009:
"Saw The Reader today.
Gonna keep this short and sweet:
Another movie (see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Twilight, as Luba so rightly quoted Harrison's statement) with pedophilia. Mmmm, who knew Kate Winslet liked fifteen-year-old boys?
(oh and it was good, but considering like the first hour is filled with sexsexsex that was kind of the reigning thought in my head for a good chunk of the movie)
And I got a fucking B+ in History and Aesthetics of Film. >.<"
Stealing From My Livejournal Part X
As I use my livejournal for little else except for movie rants and decided to switch over here, I thought I'd recruit some older posts so as to show a history. I'll bother with new ones as they come to me.
From September 10, 2008:
"This is why I love Entertainment Weekly.
I'm really not much of a magazine reader. I'm just too lazy to bother with subscriptions and the only reason I got them when I was younger was so that I could have the pretty pictures and also just to get mail. I started reading my brother's old copies of Entertainment Weekly he had lying around the house about a year or so ago and every week, they would come in the mail for him, even though he wasn't at home, and I'd read them, since I usually was the one to get the mail anyways. And I started getting really into the magazine, reading it essentially cover to cover, sometimes skimming over articles, sometimes not.
The magazine really catches my perspective, I feel. It's smarter than a lot of the pop culture it covers, and it knows that, but it can still appreciate these things because it understands their importance in our current time. Sometimes I'm less happy about this, when I got a copy of EW with two huge articles about Twilight (one of which I read anyways), or when Diablo Cody writes her obnoxiously condescending and snobbish articles (which, unfortunately, I sometimes agree with, like in the case of her newest one, which I'll get to later). Regardless, EW is smart, a bit condescending at times, but they still bother with pop culture because, no matter that life isn't going to be solved by listening to the Jonas Brothers, it is still appealing (although not really to me).
I've been feeling really good about the magazine ever since I started really reading it attentively about a year ago now and I finally managed to get my own subscription now that I'm away at school. I received my first copy in the mail... and the cover was ripped. And it had Gossip Girl on the cover. I thought to myself, dammit, and I was hoping I could milk more than twenty minutes out of this.
But I managed to. And not because I read the Gossip Girl column anyway, but because of the other stuff. Because of Diablo Cody's actually interesting and relatable article (for once, for me), essentially about how The House Bunny is culturally important (I saw that movie and it was exactly what you expect it to be, but the best part about that is that it is still funny and Anna Faris is great in it). Because of the review for College which, instead of actually talking about the movie beyond maybe two paragraphs, instead talked about the cultural importance of Animal House, but that was totally appropriate in my opinion. Remaking Animal House isn't going to happen. College movies suck, and Animal House is fucking ridiculous, but in a way that I can't imagine being duplicated for all of the reasons the reviewer listed in the review for a different movie, which isn't nearly as good or culturally significant.
Because of the Heroes poster that was waiting for me inside, which I ripped out and is now on my wall, featuring Nathan, Peter, Angela, Claire, Noah, and Matt. Because of everything in it, really.
Entertainment Weekly embodies my perspective on the entertainment world. It's absolutely wonderful to enjoy deep, meaningful things in the entertainment world, like The Visitor or whatever novel that isn't by Stephanie Meyer or Jo Rowling that is topping the charts this week. But it's also fine to talk about the fashion at the Oscars (like how Diablo Cody looked like trash when she won one, and how Helen Mirren always looks fabulous, not playing it as if she's old or as if she's twenty, but playing it just beautifully). It's fine to drool over Christian Bale as Batman. It's fine to cheer The Dark Knight on as it hits the $500 million mark. All of which I do.
That is to say, I don't always agree with the magazine. I mean, I wonder how the hell Diablo Cody got on staff. Of course, sometimes I worry when they put High School Musical 3 on a two page spread when talking about the fall movie preview. But The Brothers Bloom got a blurb and a little picture of Adrian Brody and Mark Ruffalo, and there are some smart people working on that magazine. The cultural references they bring up make me smile and their reviews always leave me thinking, whether or not I've seen the movie/tv show/read the book/listened to the music/etc.
It's really nice to find a connection like that. It isn't perfect. Entertainment Weekly and I don't always get along. But considering that I still read it cover to cover, even if I don't find all the topics interesting, but because I have faith in the magazine to maybe surprise me by making me think about something I hadn't before, that still makes this a pretty tight connection. Yeah, it's just a magazine. And it's a magazine about pop culture and the entertainment world at that. It doesn't spend as much time covering things that are maybe more deep and meaningful. But pop culture is meaningful, even if the stuff in it isn't. EW and I get that. We're both smart, a bit condescending, but we're okay with being worried about who's going to win which Oscar.
In other news, we had our first film screenings for my History and Aesthetics of Film class. We watched The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans. The former is German Expressionism. The latter involves a drunk pig. I KNOW, RIGHT?
And now I must run off and do my reading for when that class meets in the morning. Oh joy. A ten page pdf and fifty-ish more pages in my textbook. The funny part of this chapter is how the author is writing about the importance of make-up in Speed. Ahahahaha."
From September 10, 2008:
"This is why I love Entertainment Weekly.
I'm really not much of a magazine reader. I'm just too lazy to bother with subscriptions and the only reason I got them when I was younger was so that I could have the pretty pictures and also just to get mail. I started reading my brother's old copies of Entertainment Weekly he had lying around the house about a year or so ago and every week, they would come in the mail for him, even though he wasn't at home, and I'd read them, since I usually was the one to get the mail anyways. And I started getting really into the magazine, reading it essentially cover to cover, sometimes skimming over articles, sometimes not.
The magazine really catches my perspective, I feel. It's smarter than a lot of the pop culture it covers, and it knows that, but it can still appreciate these things because it understands their importance in our current time. Sometimes I'm less happy about this, when I got a copy of EW with two huge articles about Twilight (one of which I read anyways), or when Diablo Cody writes her obnoxiously condescending and snobbish articles (which, unfortunately, I sometimes agree with, like in the case of her newest one, which I'll get to later). Regardless, EW is smart, a bit condescending at times, but they still bother with pop culture because, no matter that life isn't going to be solved by listening to the Jonas Brothers, it is still appealing (although not really to me).
I've been feeling really good about the magazine ever since I started really reading it attentively about a year ago now and I finally managed to get my own subscription now that I'm away at school. I received my first copy in the mail... and the cover was ripped. And it had Gossip Girl on the cover. I thought to myself, dammit, and I was hoping I could milk more than twenty minutes out of this.
But I managed to. And not because I read the Gossip Girl column anyway, but because of the other stuff. Because of Diablo Cody's actually interesting and relatable article (for once, for me), essentially about how The House Bunny is culturally important (I saw that movie and it was exactly what you expect it to be, but the best part about that is that it is still funny and Anna Faris is great in it). Because of the review for College which, instead of actually talking about the movie beyond maybe two paragraphs, instead talked about the cultural importance of Animal House, but that was totally appropriate in my opinion. Remaking Animal House isn't going to happen. College movies suck, and Animal House is fucking ridiculous, but in a way that I can't imagine being duplicated for all of the reasons the reviewer listed in the review for a different movie, which isn't nearly as good or culturally significant.
Because of the Heroes poster that was waiting for me inside, which I ripped out and is now on my wall, featuring Nathan, Peter, Angela, Claire, Noah, and Matt. Because of everything in it, really.
Entertainment Weekly embodies my perspective on the entertainment world. It's absolutely wonderful to enjoy deep, meaningful things in the entertainment world, like The Visitor or whatever novel that isn't by Stephanie Meyer or Jo Rowling that is topping the charts this week. But it's also fine to talk about the fashion at the Oscars (like how Diablo Cody looked like trash when she won one, and how Helen Mirren always looks fabulous, not playing it as if she's old or as if she's twenty, but playing it just beautifully). It's fine to drool over Christian Bale as Batman. It's fine to cheer The Dark Knight on as it hits the $500 million mark. All of which I do.
That is to say, I don't always agree with the magazine. I mean, I wonder how the hell Diablo Cody got on staff. Of course, sometimes I worry when they put High School Musical 3 on a two page spread when talking about the fall movie preview. But The Brothers Bloom got a blurb and a little picture of Adrian Brody and Mark Ruffalo, and there are some smart people working on that magazine. The cultural references they bring up make me smile and their reviews always leave me thinking, whether or not I've seen the movie/tv show/read the book/listened to the music/etc.
It's really nice to find a connection like that. It isn't perfect. Entertainment Weekly and I don't always get along. But considering that I still read it cover to cover, even if I don't find all the topics interesting, but because I have faith in the magazine to maybe surprise me by making me think about something I hadn't before, that still makes this a pretty tight connection. Yeah, it's just a magazine. And it's a magazine about pop culture and the entertainment world at that. It doesn't spend as much time covering things that are maybe more deep and meaningful. But pop culture is meaningful, even if the stuff in it isn't. EW and I get that. We're both smart, a bit condescending, but we're okay with being worried about who's going to win which Oscar.
In other news, we had our first film screenings for my History and Aesthetics of Film class. We watched The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans. The former is German Expressionism. The latter involves a drunk pig. I KNOW, RIGHT?
And now I must run off and do my reading for when that class meets in the morning. Oh joy. A ten page pdf and fifty-ish more pages in my textbook. The funny part of this chapter is how the author is writing about the importance of make-up in Speed. Ahahahaha."
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