So normally I don't post personal stuff here that's too distant from pop culture or the entertainment industry or film or movies or whatever, but this is an identity thing and as someone who identifies herself by her relationship to the arts more than probably anything else, I thought this wouldn't be too out of place. It's a letter/essay I wrote on the War Against Women happening right now in the dear ol' U.S. of A. and you can find it here on tumblr: http://jackrosejackrose.tumblr.com/post/19470050879/the-war-on-womens-identities

Enjoy, I hope. Critique or share if you like.

On Film Criticism and the Ways I Watch Films

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.

Dither, Dather, Teen Lit, Blah, Blah...

on top of being a sucker for dystopian/utopian/post-apocalyptic fiction of all varieties, I think there are several good reasons why I got so addicted to The Hunger Games, I finished all three books in the past two days.

a) MYTHOLOGICAL THIRTEENTH TRIBE, ANYONE?

Oh hey there, Battlestar Galactica, that's right, you're all about a mythological thirteenth tribe too. The way the thirteenth tribes are handled is very different, but the set-up is similar. Twelve colonies/districts formed out of the shambles of the past. I guess maybe the First Cylon War might equate the Dark Days? But BSG's history is sort of wonky on me, I can never figure at what exact point the twelve colonies officially band together. Then, shit happens to both the colonies and the districts, which leads me to...

b) REBELLION.

Maybe why I can't like Gale very much is that he reminds me of the role of Marius in some versions of Les Miserables. Funny thing is, I kinda like Marius. But Gale, not quite so much. He's okay. I just feel as if the Peeta/Katniss/Gale love triangle is too contrived. It feels so obvious to me that Katniss and Peeta are perfect for each other and the only thing ruining Katniss realizing this is President Snow being all "CONVINCE ME" and nonsense. But regardless, I love a good rebellion story. Maybe that's why I love Star Wars so much. Beneath the typical story and the well-worn science fiction turf, it IS about a rebellion. Particularly Empire Strikes Back, which I think we can all agree is the bestest.

c) STRONG LEAD CHARACTER.

I can get criticism over Gale, and maybe even over Peeta, though I think both are clear in their characterizations even if I think Gale's just kinda meh in general, but Katniss is obviously a well-crafted and interesting character. In many ways, it's hard not to compare her to Bella Swan, because she is, in many ways, if Bella Swan were a more fully-formed character ... and had a plot independent of romance. And was awesome. Katniss is flawed, fabulous, and interesting. She reminds me more of Harry Potter's best moments, particularly once we're on to the rebellion phases, where she's learning and planning and becoming this leader she didn't know she was, not unlike Harry turning into a leader he didn't know he was with the DA and further.

d) EVEN THOUGH IT'S DUMB, I CARE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS IN THE LOVE TRIANGLE.

Well, maybe not Gale. But whereas the only time I can take the Edward/Bella/Jacob love triangle even slightly seriously is when I break it down into ideas, ideas that also apply to the Peeta/Katniss/Gale love triangle, but more effectively probably because everyone in the Hunger Games is more likable. Although, shockingly, depending on my mood, I could argue Jacob's more interesting to me than Gale. God, I'm sorry Gale, I feel like I'm hating on you so hard. But the idea that centers around both is the female protagonist's choices - who she could be, and who she is. Had Katniss not competed in the Hunger Games, she says it herself, she and Gale would've been right. But I knew as soon as Peeta was the only one who could help her nightmares in Catching Fire that Katniss and Gale could never work because she's not that girl anymore. However, in Twilight, it's just literal and dumb and Bella has both worlds and godihatethatseriesitsdumb. Phew. What I mean to say is that ideas or not, the characters in The Hunger Games actually interest me. The major "love triangle" characters as well as pretty much all of the minor characters. Cinna. Rue. Finnick. The way even passing characters become beloved. Darius. Boggs. I have such mixed emotions about most of the characters, but the positive ones tend to win out. And I'm glad they're mixed - instantly loving certain characters makes me wary as to why I love them. Instantly hating characters bores me.

e) THE ENDING LEAVES ME SURPRISINGLY SATISFIED.

When I asked my friend who'd finished the books recently if I'd be satisfied, she was hesitant. Because as amazing as everything is in and logical as the ending is for His Dark Materials, I can never finish those books with satisfaction. It just rips my goddamn heart, even if it's a fairly happy ending. And I think we can all agree that the ending of the Harry Potter series hardly ties up the loose ends satisfactorily enough. Let's not even get into that Epilogue. Book series frequently leave me with something to be desired in their ends. The Giver trilogy's third book was incredibly weak, IMO. Don't even get me started on how much I can't take The Last Battle (though I'm hardly a Narnia fan at large). The only one I've read that works is Lord of the Rings for obvious reasons, like, Tolkien would never write an unsatisfying ending. I'd rate Mockingjay somewhere between HDM and HP. It's more satisfying than either, but HDM is still generally better IMO. Sorry, Peeta, I may be a little in love with you, but Will Parry is my wallpaper. And I'd rather be Lyra than Katniss, even though I like them both plenty. Anyway, my point is, the books end in a place that works for me, that doesn't rub me the wrong way, though I feel as though surely there could've been more; obviously the last few chapters are a bit rushed. But it's okay.

I could've sworn I had more points relating elements of The Hunger Games to other popular culture things that have fascinated me, but I'm blanking beyond the Harry/Katniss talk and the Thirteen/Twelve Districts/Colonies. Bah, well, I'll just have to make a second installment when it comes back.

so the end point is that I really enjoyed these books.

They were all interesting, all good, fit together well, worked well enough separate (as is not uncommon in trilogies, I find, the first book works better on its own than any of the others), provided me with moments that made me sad, made me laugh, made me roll my eyes (though mostly delightedly... mostly). God now watch the movie be a hot mess. Although, not gonna lie, Josh Hutcherson seems visually perfect for Peeta. Even if I'm like "WTH Miley Cyrus' ex-boyfriend for Gale? Are you trying to make me like him LESS?"

Last note: how on hell is the movie going to get away with a PG13 rating without sacrificing the brutality that makes the books so engrossing?

okay, lengthy ramble over.

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.

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.

Glee: The Rachel Problem & More

Been a little busy with the kick-off of the semester, but I'm going to try for a minor new blog post.

So. Glee.



Sometimes cute. Often talented. And also quite often a piece of gooey, unkempt, poorly-defined messes.

I like Glee for some reasons, I really do. The cast is talented, there have been some stronger episodes (particularly toward the beginning of the first season), the musical numbers are usually quite entertaining, and lately when the show just gives in to its messes (i.e. Power of Madonna and last night's Brittany/Britney) it is quite enjoyable in that format. I mentioned earlier to a friend that if Glee just devolved into incoherent musical numbers (which, to an extent, it already does) I'd still watch it and truly enjoy it for the variety/cabaret like quality it could be and is best at.

There are also many problems with Glee. The writing is often weak, continuity is crap, the "realism" is pathetic, and the treatment of minorities often stumbles off the fine-line between embracing and exposing stereotypes, not to mention giving heavy-handed speeches hand-in-hand with satirical nonsense. It's these weaknesses that make me think Glee could be just as successful and twice as entertaining if it abandoned plot all together and just played with its cast of characters as is and ran it like the best, most epic variety show/cabaret. I've always wanted cabarets to make a comeback though...

Amongst my many issues with Glee, I'd probably say the biggest one right now has a name: Rachel.



Sure, many of the characters are mishandled, underused, overused, given too much credit for their lack of abilities (I'm looking at Finn's singing AND dancing), etc.... but Rachel really takes the cake for me.

The thing is, Lea Michele is undeniably talented. She's got a great voice. I'm not sure if it's my favorite voice, but it's definitely good. Clearly, it makes sense that Rachel is often the lead. She's assertive and talented. The problem? She's an unrestrained diva who never learns from her many mistakes. Rachel is not only annoying, she is often insufferable. All together, these two episodes in the second season, I think I may have liked her for all of about ten seconds, in the latest episode, when she tells Finn that she'll stop being controlling since she's discovered her own empowerment. AWESOME. GREAT. ...and then, she goes back to her crazy, dramatic ultimatums. And I think to myself, WHO DOES THIS? What kind of crazy pills is this girl on?

Rachel has no redeeming qualities. Her personality is horrible. She is controlling, obnoxious, rude, self-centered, and displays somewhat sociopath-like behavior (her "I'm doing this because I love you" shtick in the season opener, much?). Rachel also has an obsessive personality, which means when she gets on about something, she harps on about it incessantly, because she's also a loud-mouth. Sure, she "owns up" to her mistakes, sometimes, but then she goes and does another horrible thing next week. And whoops, again, and then another thing, and then she's got a clean-slate again. Seriously, I used to wonder what Rachel saw in Finn, but what the hell does Finn see in Rachel? She's pretty and talented, and that's about it.

And the show exploits this. The show is convinced that Rachel is our hero, that Rachel really does mean well, and that Rachel is worth loving despite her flaws... because why? Because she sings really, really well, and here, let's demonstrate by having her sing a big, dramatic number at the end of the episode (the modus operendi for this season thus far, and used a bit last season as well - Episodes 2, 17, and 18). We're led to believe that Rachel is redeemed because she sings a heartfelt song, but she still resorted to crazy-ass, selfish means to keep Sunshine out of the club, and she still gave Finn a crazy-ass, selfish ultimatum. I don't see how being talented makes up for being a shitty person.

Rachel is the center of Glee's problems for me, because Glee has disillusioned itself into seeing her as someone that she really does not come off as: a victim. In the first season, somewhat, when Finn was actively ditching her, I could see it, but now she's only a victim of her own behavior. Likewise, Glee has disillusioned itself into seeing its show as a well put-together, honest, real show, when it's really just a fun hot mess. The problem is that Glee has got an epic fanbase, a great appeal, lots of merchandising, and the ratings to keep going for years.

It reminds me of the second season of Heroes, however. I knew Heroes wasn't the strongest show, but I was in love with it anyways, in love with its possibilities and its conceits. Heroes too was a huge hit when it started, if anyone can remember that a few years back. But Heroes too lost itself in numerous characters, bad writing, weird plotting, and stock in unchanging characters (including, also, an unlikable heroine with Claire). Heroes fell off ratings-wise, however, killed by the writer's strike. Heroes also didn't have built-in merchandising. It was, however, also hailed for its originality. Heroes brought superheroes to network television, Glee brought the musical. Neither were first, exactly, but they were hailed as successes moreso than others, though. It seems odd, because Heroes and Glee are nothing alike in actual context, but I simply see a lot of similar problems. Glee is so in love with itself, so doting on its fanbase, and so inconsistent, doubting that it could ever go wrong. Maybe Glee will improve; I think it has the possibility, but I doubt it will.

I'll just keep on watching Glee until it's too much of a train wreck to stand anymore (give it another season). It's still enjoyable and has its moments, but I'm not recommending it to anyone anytime soon. I learned my lesson about corrupting my poor friends when Heroes was in a downfall. There I thought it would get better and was wrong. Maybe if I expect Glee to keep on descending in quality, it will actually get sharper.

And so ends my mega-long ramble on Glee. g'night folks. I'm off to watch No Ordinary Family! I also hope that is better than Heroes. >.>

Objectification of both genders versus the objectification of just women - more or less progressive?

Is the entertainment industry the only place where it's OK to objectify men and women?

The argument that, if Hollywood and the entertainment industry at large objectify women, this is okay would be that those in the industry put themselves out there for judgment - their entire lives are defined by the opinions of other people. Those opinions may center on their appearance, but actors are also admired for their talent, wit, personality, and poise. Actors (both male and female) are hired for many reasons and attractiveness is amongst these reasons.

This is, of course, something that would not stand in pretty much any other profession. But at the same time, I wonder, is the entertainment industry's objectification of both women AND men something that makes it more or less progressive than other industries?

Men, sit down and shut up because this is for the women. Honestly, when was the last time any man felt like they were being judged by their appearance for a job interview? I don't want to hear men complaining about being objectified or judged by their appearance because, believe me, women have it worse. Luckily, at the tender age of twenty, I haven't experienced a job interview where I've been judged based on my appearance, probably because my jobs have been mostly minimum wage based professions (i.e. cashier, hostess, tour guide). But that doesn't mean I haven't felt the brunt of judgment about my appearance.

Let me break it down for you. I've had big boobs since I was 12 years old and I'm a natural blonde. I'm also 5'3. How many people do you think look at me and take me seriously, especially since I have a goofy, outgoing personality and a liking for feminine clothing? Men, how many of you have felt the judging eyes because you're short or fat? I apologize to anybody who is a minority because I know that race is another huge judgment point for people.

But women have been objectified for ages. What's the image that comes to mind when you think stripper? It's always going to be a girl, a skimpily dressed young woman. Porn stars, sex tapes, anything raunchy, you're probably going to be thinking about girls.

Celebrities and others within the entertainment industry who aren't necessarily defined as celebrities, on the other hand, are judged for their appearance no matter which gender. It's easy to make the argument that judging someone based on their appearance is wrong no matter what and I don't disagree. On the other hand, it's foolish for anyone to go into the entertainment industry thinking that their appearance won't be a part of their image. Whether it's the typical actor, that wants to be recognized for his or her work within their films or television series or other projects, or the more celebrity-based actor whose personal life is the center of attention, it's all about the appearance. In the former case, how well does the appearance of the actor fit the role? That's why actors get a lot of cred when they shake things up majorly for a role, say, gain or lose a lot of weight or drastically change their appearance so as to be unrecognizable. In the latter case, it's still about appearance, but about the actual, natural appearance outside of the movies and videos. Either way, actors are putting out their entire selves to be judged, and that includes their appearance.

So is it really unfair to then go ahead and deem someone attractive or unattractive? More often, people deem those in the entertainment industry attractive. Nobody really writes posts or articles about how unattractive someone is, and I doubt you'll find any genuine, credible source talking about the attractiveness/unattractiveness of celebrities or actors in the first place, save if it's about a role transformation.

I understand the harm of basing opinions of someone solely on their appearance, I really do. Nobody wants to be seen as just a pretty face - actors want to be taken seriously as actors and though appearance is a part of that, it's the praise for the talent that matters more than the praise for the appearance. My counter-argument, however, is that there is a line between playful "s/he's so hot" and derogatory comments like "s/he's just a pretty face." Is it really so wrong to drool over a Google image search of certain actors, so long as they're acknowledged as something more?

Well, I'll bring it back to me because I'm a selfish ho and I know myself pretty well and can't speak for everyone else. I love getting compliments on my appearance. I love getting comments on my talent as a filmmaker/musician/good person more, but I would never begrudge someone for thinking me attractive, so long as they know there's more to me than that.

Back on the sexism track, sometimes it's tough for me to think that people actually do see more to me than blonde hair and a big rack. I don't know, but, men, do you have the same problem? Do you feel as if women look at you and they only see what you look like and could never see you as something more than a man?

Historically speaking, though I know men also face objectification, men have always been more than just their appearance though. Men have always held jobs or positions or some role in the public world. Women, on the other hands, have been defined for centuries based on our womanhood and nothing else, because we didn't work, we didn't hold positions - all we were good for was being a woman (which entails: looking pretty, having kids, being present, etc.).

Do I feel for actors who are judged entirely on their appearance, regardless of their gender? Yes, I do. However, I feel a lot more for the women, to this day, who suffer from their gender in the workplace. Nobody would dare to call a man who worked as an office manager "just a secretary" but they would dare to call my mother that because she's a woman - she, as a woman, is a secretary and any other title is a joke, whereas it would be an insult for a man to ignore his actual title. God, what is this, Mad Men?

It may not be entirely right to judge actors based on their appearances, but it is part of their job. It is in no way, shape, or form part of an office worker's job to be judged on their appearance (well, maybe outside of their outfit; I'd judge a dude who wore a scuba suit to work, because that's just inappropriate - there is a certain dress code to working in the professional world). And though this may sound cruel, at least the entertainment industry is a bit more fair, ogling both men and women as attractive. Women definitely have a tougher time and are more scrutinized, but at least it's a bit more fair than the rest of the world.

Just keep on the right side of the line and don't cross over to pure appearance judgment and I don't see what's so wrong about appreciating beauty. It's not everything, it shouldn't be everything, but an appreciation is acceptable. I appreciate Alexander Skarsgard, for instance, both as a very attractive man and as a fantastic actor in his current role as Eric Northman in True Blood. He embodies the wit, slyness, and power of Eric very well. But, at the same time, I very much like the way he looks. Am I wrong?

I'm sure some might think so, but whatever.

(Inspired in part by a conversation had with a chap in the comments section of this EW.com post.)

So You Think You Can Dance? (I know I can't.)

This summer was dedicated to Lost early on, but I have strayed toward So You Think You Can Dance since then. My interest and dedication to SYTYCD has gone so far as to make a chart of the genres each contestant has performed in and how many times. Now, as the finale is only six days away, anyone who has talked to me knows my preference lies with either Robert or Lauren. I like Kent, don't get me wrong, but he is not my favorite contestant now or ever, even though he has had some really good routines. But you know who else had good routines? Billy and Alex and Ashley and Cristina and AdeChike and they're all kaput (I personally loved both of Cristina's routines before she was cut; she really should've made it a week longer than Melinda).

My main problem with Kent is that, though he has certainly grown as a dancer and as a person, the growth is much more apparent in his competitors at this stage. I've always liked Robert and his goofiness never bothered me, but his goofiness has become less of his personality and more of an occasional quirk as time has gone on. He has proven himself a serious, beautiful, and talented dancer. If AdeChike had learned how to let himself go more, he could've been the strongest looking partner on the show, but since he didn't, that honour goes to Robert, in my opinion (also, if Alex had lasted longer he might've taken that crown). Lauren has always been freakin' talented. We didn't get to see too much of Ashley to know how talented she was, but the other three girls were no rival for Lauren's skill (even though I will consistently remind the world that Cristina surprised me hugely in her two weeks on the show, but alas, we only got two weeks of her). But Lauren seriously has tackled so many genres and conquered them. She never looks uncomfortable or awkward and she's gotten really good at getting into character. Not to mention that the package when the other top six described each other and Lauren was pegged as the weirdo she became my hero. Also, the zillion and a half activities she does? I don't care that she's two years younger than me; I want to be Lauren when I grow up.

Comparing the remaining dancers, I can go on and on about how Robert's disco was better than Kent's and how Robert's hip hop was better than Kent's or how more physically stronger Robert comes across in all his ballrooms where Kent still looks like a kid, but I think that it's fruitless at this point to really hope for a Robert victory (as much as I want it). Robert's had a journey making it out of the bottom 3 the times he has (WHY? WHY did it take so long for the audience to wise up to the fact that AdeChike, despite all his strength and talent, just couldn't bring the it factor to most of his routines save three - contemporary with Kent, hip hop with Lauren, and lyrical hip hop with Comfort). I am so freakin proud of Robert for making it this far because he has been surprising me since the first week and winning my love over the course of the show.

But even Kent's greatest routines leave me unwilling to vote for him. Maybe it speaks to personal preference, but I'll take Robert's goofiness over Kent's rambling messes of speech anyday. I just don't get Kent, I guess. Talented, yes. Appealing to younger audiences, yes. But he is not the strongest contender on the show, he has not been the most attractive on the show, he has had some really stellar routines, but he makes the same consistent mistake week after week (as Mia will happily point out, the pulling of the faces) and that still didn't lose him any steam, although apparently it did for AdeChike eventually (his lack of connection and looseness in many of his routines).

It's kind of disappointing that the dancers who've grown the most have been the ones who've been in the bottom more. Lauren overcame her "girlishness," Robert overcame his goofiness, and Billy overcame his own problems with partnering as shown in his freakin' gorgeous contemporary with Ade last week. But Billy's gone and Robert was at risk of departing the competition several times and even Lauren's been in the bottom. But it took three weeks to give Melinda the boot when she wasn't growing, it took way too long to give Jose the boot after he'd stopped growing, and if Kent's got more growth to show, he is taking his sweet-ass time.

For this reason, I'm really glad Kent got disco. I'm glad Jose got that Broadway. Because choreographers can hide a contestants weaknesses all they like and get praise (a la Jose's pretty Sonya contemporary routine with Allison, which was pretty but really didn't need much skill from Jose), but it's important that a dancer's weaknesses are shown too. If the audience ignores them, whatever, but it's important to see them nonetheless. Through this we can understand what the problem with the dancer is. The problem with Jose, for instance, was that he was all personality and very unrefined talent. The problem with Kent is that as adorable as he comes across, there is a lack of strength there too. The problem with Melinda was that, even with a partner as talented and gorgeous as Pasha, she still didn't even bother to connect with him either time she danced with him, though it was very clear HE was trying.

I am happy with the finale three we've got, though, because as much as I complain about Kent, it's not because I don't think he's talented. I just think he would've deserved his potential win if he'd have auditioned in a couple seasons, when he he could actually exude more maturity, especially outside of the dance. Because when he dances, it is possible to forget the "farmboy" he is (well, in his best routines, like his contemporary with Lauren, or with AdeChike, or with Neil). But once the dance is over, I remember why I am not a Kent fan.

If only Alex Freaking Wong were still around! If it was Alex, Robert, and Lauren in the top three my dreams would've come true. But next season! Next season, dearest Alex will be back and the judges better get Anthony Burrell into the top 10/20 next season. I was annoyed enough when he didn't make it this season. :(


PS: I saw Despicable Me. It was pretty darn cute.

My Thoughts on Eclipse. Let Me Give Them To You.

I have to give credit where credit is due. I may not have wanted to face it, but I admit that The Twilight Saga: Eclipse is probably the most tolerable Twilight movie. There were fewer moments than the earlier installments where I just wanted to scream it was so bad, but there are several reasons for that and there is one in particular, near the end, that stands out.

As much as I can't stand Bella as a character, she does give an interesting speech that I think relates to a lot of fantasy stories, the central idea being that, only in said fantasy world does she really belong. Now, I don't know if that stems from the actual book or if it's a movie only thing because I've never read the book, but it was interesting. I'm not sure if I like it, though, because it is a question that I feel is important to consider in any fantasy landscape.

The Hero's Journey, as written about in a book I recently read on screenwriting entitled The Writer's Journey (by Christopher Vogler), has a step near the end called "The Road Back." Such a grand example could easily be found, say, in The Lord of the Rings where it is a literal road back to the shire. The literal road back leads our four dear hobbits back to their homeland. Whether the book version or the movie version (because The Scouring of the Shire chapter is not in the movie), the shire is (or is eventually) a proper home for three of the four again. Sam, Merry, and Pippin, despite their wild adventures, can find home in this place. Frodo, on the other hand, does not belong in this world anymore. Bilbo, also, in The Hobbit can be said to have gone on the road back to the shire and he lives comfortably there for a long time after his adventures outside of his home.

One reason I think it is very easy for Bella to not go on the road back is because she doesn't really go on a road to the vampire world. To be quite fair, I read an article recently comparing the Harry Potter and Twilight franchises and stating that one obvious advantage Harry Potter has over Twilight is the fantasy world. Comparisons aside, there really isn't a lot of definition over the vampire world. Vampires are described, sure, but there isn't a lot of fantasy involved and Bella isn't really transported into a whole new environment, unlike in Harry Potter where Harry is constantly learning the crazy differences between the muggle and wizarding worlds. But, like I said, this is comparison aside. The world of Twilight is very normal and, honestly, not very interesting. I like my mortality most of the time, however, and unlike Bella, I feel as if I can achieve things in a mortal life, as if I do belong here, even when it's uncomfortable, awkward, or stunted, which it often it.

Even on The Road Back, however, there really is no going back, especially because The Road Back is not the last stop. There is still "Resurrection" and "Return with the Elixir." To be quite honest, Twilight follows this Hero's Journey outline well in the end. Bella clearly goes under a resurrection when she is transformed and boy oh boy, does superstar model and wicked talented vampire!Bella have an elixir. The road back isn't about returning to an old life as much as it is returning to an old home as a new person. There is no spontaneous "Happily Ever After" and then fade to black, because we are always growing beyond the end, which is clear in the last sections of the journey. I think the problem here with Twilight is that it assumes a happily ever after and there is an eternity where neither Bella nor Edward nor the other Cullens will ever grow. It is as Rosalie says in Eclipse, how they are frozen in time.

So while it is easy to say other literary characters such as Bilbo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin return to their old lives, it is also wrong. They all return to their old homes as completely changed persons/hobbits, leading their old lives into new realms. That is their resurrection (well, if we're ignoring The Scouring of the Shire, which could be cited as the real zone off a resurrection) - upon their return, they resurrect their old lives with new spirits and lessons.

Even in Harry Potter, as much as we may criticize the Epilogue of Deathly Hallows, it does prove interesting to observe what happens after the final battle, what happens after Harry goes back. Not to his old life as a wizard stuck in the muggle world, no, but back to being a generally normal kind of life, but after some very abnormal experiences. We see Harry as a new person, as a father and husband and man changed by his adolescent ordeals. It is important to understand this, even if its execution leaves something to be desired (I mean, Albus Severus? Really? Poor kid, poor poor kid...), because we see Harry resurrected into his future self. This is kind of a double resurrection though, as only a chapter earlier did Harry undergo a semi-literal resurrection after Voldemort supposedly kills him but he doesn't actually die and has that beautiful conversation with Dumbledore in "King's Cross." Oh how I love that chapter. But that resurrection is a figurative one as he comes back not so different than he was beforehand - he still has a battle to fight and he has not really gone on the road back yet; he hasn't finished his job just yet, but he's nearly there.

I think the reason Breaking Dawn split fans was that it presented a shitty conclusion to a mildly interesting premise. Bella gets to live in both the ordinary and fantasy world in the end, which is not right and downright selfish of Stephanie Meyer to grant her protagonist that. She gets to have a child, something to propel her forward, as well as remain in the fantasy world forever. It's gross and one of the many reasons I absolutely hate the introduction of "teethbaby" (aka Reneesme or however it's spelled). The debate between Team Jacob and Team Edward, the debate between life as it should be and life as it is (as Bella phrases it in the movie), is destroyed in the final chapter as totally irrelevant, which is appalling to me.

But Eclipse gets credit as probably the most interesting installment in the franchise. Bella and Edward, though still Mary Sues and lacking personality to the point of painfulness, have grown as a couple and are not totally disgusting when they're together (as a perpetually single girl surrounded by her perpetually dating friends, I know the difference between a sickening couple and a couple who has grown into their affection for each other, which sometimes takes a really long time and sometimes no time at all, but my personal life aside...). While the action is still horrible, the dialogue cheesy, and most of the characters pointless or annoying, there is something appealing in the actual story of Eclipse. I don't like what Bella chooses, and I hate how it turns out thanks to that atrocious author, but I relish the decision that has to be made and the options and the weight of it all. I can respect Bella's choice for one reason: namely the way she phrases it as how life "IS" rather than how life "SHOULD BE." That is such a mature and great phrasing that I can forgive her other nonsense about not fitting into a normal world, which, though understandable, just makes me dislike her more and more because it never feels like she deserves that special world. She never earns her keep, to me, which makes her such a dull character. But that aside, I have to give it to the three leads, their acting was totally watchable and occasionally, OCCASIONALLY, engrossing. Mostly, though, I live for Charlie, because he gets the only good dialogue in any of the movies.

I still can't stand Twilight for the many reasons I have brought up in the past and will bring up in the future, but I respect the movies more than the books. It helps that it would be even stupider to describe on film CONSTANTLY Edward's beauty and perfection. Actually, it's quite tamped down in this installment, which I liked a lot. On some occasions, I could almost even spot a personality. Granted, when he said things like how he'd let Bella go if he chose Jacob, I also felt like he was thinking to himself "...and then I'd kill myself." But I might blame that on the Eclipse 8-bit game of AWESOME where I know there's at least one scenario where Edward dies of a broken heart. Regardless, I feel as if some of the major flaws in the books are fixed in the movies. But the story is still rather crappy, so there's really no fixing that, no matter how many unintentionally interesting premises come into play.

For instance, I wonder to myself if Stephanie Meyer actually caught that Jasper had filled the same shoes as Riley once. I know the film noticed it, but it wasn't particularly direct, though clear to any intelligent moviegoer (which, I think it is safe to say, many Eclipse viewers cannot claim upon their viewing of the film. NOT THAT THEY ARE STUPID PEOPLE, but fangirls will be fangirls and when you are drooling over your fave hunks, you are not paying attention to plot details). I have no faith in Stephanie Meyer's writing abilities though, to be quite honest, and I feel that it may have been an unintentional thing. She MAY have realized it later, but I'll be a wee bit surprised if she had intended such a connection.

All in all, I can say that there were parts of Eclipse I genuinely liked (more than Twilight, where the only elements I liked for real were the vampire baseball and the soundtrack/score... and New Moon, where the only elements I liked were nothing). It was still bad overall, but I can understand the appeal more than ever. But then, that's me. Sexy vampire romance? Eh, not my thing exactly. Topics that raise a question that every fantasy story tackles in one way or another? I'm totally sold. That's what Eclipse has going for it, in my opinion, and that is where Eclipse surpasses the previous two films (not that it's too hard to do that).

I could go on for ages about the "ordinary world" and the "special/fantasy world" and the Hero's Journey and fantasy stories at large, but I'll hold onto that for another time because this post is long enough.

The Girl Who Owned a City

Call me obsessed with revisiting my childhood and I probably wouldn't call you wrong. I mean, I just saw Toy Story 3 for the second time yesterday, I just finished the final installment in the Confessions of Georgia Nicolson series that I first picked up in my early teens by the suggestion of a friend, and I just reread The Girl Who Owned a City for the first time in nearly ten years.

When I first read The Girl Who Owned a City, I was 11 years old and in sixth grade. We read it for class, although I don't remember the why. I loved the book but it terrified me as well. I mean, I was eleven and the book depicts the story of an adult-less world where the oldest people still alive are twelve. I would've been the older generation. Not to mention that as much as my parents sometimes frustrated me, I didn't want them to die. I remember, after finishing the book, going up to my mother, crying and hugging her and telling her that I didn't want a plague to kill her.

Well, luckily it hasn't and now being well over the age of twelve, if the plague came true, I'd be dead. I expected this to be a reassuring thought, but honestly, the book still struck me just as much as it did when I was eleven. I won't be crying and hugging my mother not to die, but... wow, what a depressing book.

There were two major thoughts that ran through my head after I finished it. Firstly, where was the sequel??? I mean, what a cliffhanger! Lisa is returned to power in her city of Glenbard, but only after provoking a far-away army who is off to join the King of Chicago and his army of roughly 5,000. Even Lisa acknowledges that the army of Chicago was bound to come after them sooner or later at the end of the book. I'm just left there wondering what the hell happens next in this post-apocalyptic world.

The second, of course, was how much I want this book to be a movie. It would be such a glorious failure. The problem, of course, is that it is such a dark book, really. Dead bodies are never explicitly stated to be anywhere, but their presence is implied. Not to mention small children learning how to fire weapons and make molotov cocktails. Tom Logan gets oil burned down his face, Lisa gets shot, and Jill has to remove the freakin' bullet. The Girl Who Owned a City is an R-rated movie, but all of its characters are children. The thing is, not a one of them is innocent.

Which is simply twisted and hard to forgive. I love the story and, though it isn't the best-written thing in the universe, I think it is fascinating and I want to read it again and again. Not everyone, however, can appreciate children being violent and doing adult things. Just take a peek at the uproar over Hit-Girl in Kick-Ass and multiply that times a thousand because The Girl Who Owned a City is full of hundreds of Hit-Girls, all trained to kill and torture. I mean, they literally mention torture in the book! Children torturing each other for information!

The Girl Who Owned a City reminds me of The Road, unsurprisingly. I mean, they're both these post-apocalyptic stories of the fight between "good" and "evil" but the lines are really blurred. The only thing that truly separates The Man and his son from the rest of the survivors is their refusal to turn into cannibals. Aside from that, they are equally violent when need be. All the children in The Girl Who Owned a City have to turn violent, whether it is for attack or defense. And though The Girl Who Owned a City gives a supposedly brighter future, the last page is so depressing that I can't help but wonder how long the city of Glenbard can last before the world turns into a world not unlike The Road where civilization is too far gone for anyone to even dream of rebuilding it the way Lisa does and instead all they can do is what the gangs do - steal and kill to survive. Both tales are incredibly depressing and though The Road is much more wonderfully written and definitely more depressing and incredibly inappropriate for children, The Girl Who Owned a City also tells a compelling take and is still quite depressing and is a bit inappropriate for children. Granted, I heartily appreciate having read it when I was young enough to fit myself into the story.

I don't normally dedicate this blog to books because, not going to lie, I do not do a lot of book-reading anymore. I was a much more avid reader when I was younger (although, to be fair, I did just read three books in less than twenty-four hours). But, my goodness, do not make the mistake of thinking that I don't love them. The Girl Who Owned a City does not need to be a movie, of course. My only inclination to bring it in that direction is to make up for some of the weak writing in the book. And I love the book so much, I would just want to work on a project with it, whether it be a sequel or a movie, because I simply want to continue to live within that sad, awesome world.

Again, that brings me back to my earlier point, about how a movie version would be a total failure. I cannot see an audience who would want to watch children suffer and toil in a world with no help and little hope. They would call it insensitive and cruel and depressing. But this is one of those moments when I really feel like a filmmaker, like an artist rather than an entertainer. I don't care about the audience, to be frank. I'd want to make this movie because it is a beautiful story, whatever you say, and it deserves to be told over and over again.

Lisa, for all her bossiness, never would have made me think of myself when I was younger. I was whiny and did not want to live in her world - most of the time. Maybe it was after reading the book, maybe it was before, but I tried to imagine a harder world where I would have to fight to survive. What if my parents died? What if we had a fire and lost everything in our house? What if I lost my voice or my hearing or my sight? All these "what if"s and more plagued me and I would make secret loots in case of anything. A "just in case" bag filled with things if I needed to run away. Hotel shampoo bottles that had been cleaned out and filled with water hidden around the house "just in case." And Lisa's attitude, her beautiful, brilliant attitude, that if she can toughen up then everyone can toughen up, reminds me so painfully of myself that it hurts. It is not an uncommon flaw, but it is a harsh one, to forget that it is hard work to grow and some people just have not gone through it. It is also not uncommon and just as harsh to forget that no matter how much we've grown, there is so much more growing to do. Both of Lisa's major flaws are ones I see in myself which, though I am nearly twice her age, make me feel like a child again.

Sure, I may be revisiting my childhood, but what is so wrong there? There are so many beautiful lessons and important messages to be found and reminded of. Only just a few days ago was I listening to Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone on audiobook, listening to the chapter, "The Mirror of Erised" and Dumbledore's conversation with Harry toward the end of the book when I remembered why I fell in love with Harry Potter all those years ago. It was for the wonderful things J.K. Rowling had to share about life and death and friendship and courage and fear and so on and so forth. I am so excited for my Introduction to Children and Young Adult Literature class this coming fall where I will get to read literature supposedly for children and young adults, but really for all of us.

After all, many animated movies aren't just for children either, even if they can be - thank you Pixar and DreamWorks.

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.

Toy Story 3

This is a comment I posted on awardsdaily.com on this newspost.

"I need to see this again. I was too emotionally crazed to really be able to tolerate anyone saying it was less than perfection. But I was in tears from the beginning, when we saw how many toys had disappeared over the years (not unlike my own storage units in the family garage, which are missing most of my old childhood toys), and barely held it together in the end when Andy played with his toys one last time with Bonnie. I was afraid I was going to audibly sob I couldn't stop crying.

Toy Story 3 may not be the best storytelling of some of the other films, but it is also clearly an installment in a franchise, which makes it different from most of the films. It is, indeed, its most emotional though. I have never been more touched by a movie in my life, but that's something my generation, who were kids when Toy Story first came out, and Toy Story 2, and now are coming back for thirds having been in Andy's exact place, is bound to experience. But I think it's something all adults can relate to and all kids will dread relating to (if I were young enough to still have toys in my room, you know I'd have gone home to instantly play with them for hours). Watching Woody, Buzz, and the gang go through all their trials is like watching what happens to your childhood, hoping that it doesn't get destroyed, but knowing it will never be the same as it was before, which is just as heart-breaking.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to rationally discuss Toy Story 3 because it just touched a place in me I'd forgotten I had. The first two feel so quaint and sweet these days, but this movie just feels too real, almost too personal, though I was never as cool a kid as Andy was, and I didn't love my toys quite the same way he did. But I think that just proves all the more what a fantastic movie it is, that it strikes a cord so strong that everything else beyond the tears and laughter is creates, doesn't really matter. It reminds me of Ego's review in Ratatouille, like all brilliant things do, and how technicalities and hard-hearts and reality aside, beauty is beauty and there are some things that are simply beyond proper criticism."

It'll be a long time before I can sum up my feelings on Toy Story 3 (I only left the theater about two hours ago), but I think the first reaction matters almost as much as the last. And, boy oh boy, have I got a first reaction. I know it's still soon after, but this was just one of those movie-going experiences where I feel like I'm a different person on the other side and I have no idea how I've changed, but I just feel it, but it could also be the emotional overload from the past few hours... it's too confusing.

But I do know that I dug my stuffed animals out of a trash bag in my brother's room, gave them a talking to about how much I love them, and set several of them around my room, including my poor, mistreated American Girl dolls.

The Cultural Importance of Harry Potter and the Lack Thereof of the Twilight Saga.

I've never been a Twilight fan and I doubt I ever will be. This is unlike my initial distaste for Harry Potter when it first exploded onto the scene, because I've actually read parts of Twilight, I've seen the movies, and I still can't stand it. After I watched the second Harry Potter movie, I actually quite liked it and decided to give the books a shot and fell in love.

But the main thing that bothers me about Twilight is the fan culture, and I'm not talking about the rabid Taylor Lautner/RPattz fans. I'm talking about some of the major differences between the tiny generational divide of my age group, which grew up with Harry Potter, and the tween/teens now, who are growing up with Twilight.

The Harry Potter craze brought us fans who invented a musical genre, who helped kick off a renewed interest in reading and writing, and brought the famed sport of the books to life. Whereas the Twilight fans seem only capable of adorning their rooms with as much memorabilia as they can hunt down. Thanks to Harry Potter, I decided that I had wanted to be a writer, I actually ran a freakin' Harry Potter website for eight months (while having been a member of said site for nearly four years now), I downloaded albums of wizardrock (The Remus Lupins! Draco and the Malfoys!), and I have the guidebook to Quidditch because my school added a Quidditch team and I hope to bother to join soon enough.

It doesn't matter that, in my opinion, the Harry Potter books are much more well-written than the Twilight books (not sure I'd call them masterpieces, but they introduce interesting themes, well-rounded characters, and tell a classic, fascinating story) - what really matters to me in the debate of Twilight versus Harry Potter is the fandom. The question: What do these books contribute to the world?

Honestly, what can we say Twilight has contributed to the world? Heightened expectations in women of their perfect men that create FML stories like this one. Not to mention what a creepy-ass "guy" Edward Cullen is and how it's disappointing to see women of all ages wishing they had a man like him. Twilight has also spawned totally crazed fans that frighten me to death far more than the most rabid Harry Potter fan.

Sure, it's easy to say this now, three years after the final Harry Potter book was released and now that the storm has calmed, but even in my tween years, when I was one of those crazy Harry Potter fans, I was not adopting Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, or Tom Felton as my future lovers. Nor was I wishing that I could meet a man like Harry Potter. Why was that? Oh, because Harry isn't perfect - he's human, so to speak. A young man who spends paragraphs yelling because his hormones are out of whack and with a hero complex to shame... someone else with a huge hero's complex. J.K. Rowling treats her characters with enough respect to make them real.

Stephanie Meyer, however, has created Edward Cullen as a complete object. He is a dreamboat of perfection, of riches and chivalry and beauty. Bella is not much different with her Mary Sue flaw of clumsiness and beautiful individuality that attracts EVERYONE. Of course Harry gets attention; he's famous! What's Bella's excuse? And she hates it (whereas there is that beautiful moment in the sixth Harry Potter movie where Harry says defensively to Hermione, "but I AM the chosen one" and receives a thunk on the head), can't stand being who she is, is never comfortable with herself.

What kind of lessons can anyone take away from a story about a girl who has caring parents, is popular with girls and boys, beauty, and a bright life ahead of her but cannot be happy with any of it unless she has her man. It's worse than a Disney Princess! At least Jasmine gets pissed at Aladdin for lying to her, but Bella mopes and cries and tries to kill herself when Edward isn't around.

Harry Potter, on the other hand, teaches lessons of appreciating all those things in your life. Harry would be nothing without the strength of his friends, mentors, and everyone in his life. Harry is happy with himself most of the time - though being famous is hard work and he isn't pleased to be an orphan, even when he lives under the tyrannical rule of his aunt and uncle, he doesn't complain about it, merely makes the best of it with his wit and knowledge that life goes on. Seriously, we start off the first book with Harry pleased to look forward to going to a different school than his cousin so he could develop his own life. Even the much-hated epilogue of the final book provides that message: life goes on and it's worth living.

Twilight? Nothing's worth living for except hunky vampires and immortality.

Lessons aside, I've already listed the other cultural implications Harry Potter brought along. It has spawned so many excited and participatory fans that it is incredible. I met Harry and the Potters - I bought one of their freakin' T-shirts. I've dreamed of remaking the Harry Potter movies one day (though I doubt I'd bother nor would I probably be let to; it'll be too soon and the movies, for all their faults with continuity aren't bad). Harry Potter inspired me to do great things. I doubt Twilight could ever encourage such spirits. Musical genre? Collegiate sport? Literacy? Well, considering that Twilight is written the way that I wrote when I was thirteen...

Sure, I'm mean to Twilight, I'm hard on its fans. I can't blame people for liking the series; I'm sure that the right readers enjoy such tales. But there is nothing beneficial to take away from the books, and that they have succeeded Harry Potter as the "it" books is depressing because it is such a huge step down.

Oh popular culture. How interesting you are and how much I hate you until the Twilight movies are all made and freakin' over with.

...btws, rant was inspired by this interesting post over on incontention.com.

We have enough damsels in distress; how about we try some knights in need?

From the April 23/30, 2010 double issue of Entertainment Weekly:

"'In the original script, there was a huge sequence where Edwin Salt saves his wife, who's in danger,' says [director, Phillip] Noyce. 'And what we found was when Evelyn Salt saved her husband in the new script, it seemed to castrate his character a little.'"

...I'm sorry, but are you saying that it is completely okay for a woman to be a damsel in distress but that it is in no way okay for a man to need a woman to save him? I'm calling shenanigans. I know that women have traditionally been cast as more damsel in distress roles and I know that I feel confident enough in my gender and sexuality to admit that I am okay putting my ego aside. I am not asking that women never be cast as damsels in distress, because it happens; everyone needs saving. But it's just that; EVERYONE needs saving, including men.

I do not think that there is anything wrong with a man playing the role of a "damsel" in distress - let's call him a "knight in need" if we want to keep with alliteration. Knights in need happen because, sorry guys, but you need us probably more than we need you. And I think that it is a horrible message to send to men to tell them that they cannot be vulnerable creatures. We are slowly coming to a time where we can see women as tough creatures, tougher than men, able to kick just as much ass. We are complex.

Men are complex too. The problem with an approach like this, however, is that it is training men to go to the old standby - they always have to be tougher than the women. Maybe the woman is the center of attention, like Evelyn Salt in the upcoming movie, Salt. But the man still needs to be just as tough, if not tougher, than the woman. She can take the spotlight, but he's still the MAN, you know?

No, actually, I don't. I don't presume to know how this will play out in the actual movie, but the way that this article was phrased, the way the director put it, it just riled me up. Being a woman is fucking hard because if we want to be more than the damsel in distress we have to prove it daily and if we are the damsel in distress then we're dragging down those women who don't want it. Men can be vulnerable and women can be tough and there is nothing wrong with either of those options. There is nothing wrong with a woman saving a man, and yet, it makes men uncomfortable.

Well, I'd honestly love to see a few men squirm to see that because that's exactly how I feel when I see silly women having to be rescued by the most masculine of men. It doesn't make me uncomfortable, however, when it makes sense, when it isn't about the gender and it's about the characters. When a female character ends up in harm's way and a male character has the ability and the will to rescue her, that's not always a painful thing for me to watch. And it would be equally comfortable if I were to watch a man end up in such a dire situation where a female protagonist would need to take charge.

Now, I have the feeling that the end product of the film will still prove that Angelina Jolie's Evelyn Salt is a badass and capable of saving her husband and that, perhaps, she will still come out being shown to be the tougher of the pair. But I also have the feeling that the original draft placed Edwin Salt's wife in a much more embarrassing situation because it could because women can be placed in more embarrassing damsel in distress scenarios. Only that's wrong.

We women may not understand quite how being kicked in the balls feels, but that doesn't mean that being kicked in the vagina doesn't hurt.

I don't define myself as a feminist, not that there's anything wrong with empowering women. When I read things like this, I realize that women still need empowering. We are not equal to men and we are not interchangeable. Sure, genders have their differences, but not like this. I hope that Evelyn Salt will prove that women can be tough too. And it'll probably be better for the story if her husband is not a total damsel in distress. But it would have been nice for men to see what we women get to see on a regular basis.

And believe me, the pain it strikes through me and the damage it does to my life as a woman lasts a lot longer than getting kicked in your balls does.

Sequels, Threequels, Franchises, oh my!

Last night, as I was trying to sleep, a thought kept coming into my head. And that thought was no, not about Anton Yelchin or Alexander Skarsgard you fools, but about sequels and threequels.

Now, it has become a long-standing fear of fans of something quality that a mediocre or bad sequel will come of it. However, ever since 1972 and The Godfather, Part II, this fear has been ruled with some notable exceptions. However, there have been over the past several years, particularly in recent years with the heightened popularity of franchises, several examples of sequels that are considered to be nearly as good as, as good as, or better than the original film on which they are based. For example, there is the aforementioned Godfather, Part II; Empire Strikes Back; Terminator 2: Judgment Day; I-haven't-seen-it-but-have-been-led-to-believe-it-fits-here Aliens; Toy Story 2; Shrek 2; Spider-man 2; The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers; The Dark Knight; X2. To name a few, that is.

Obviously, this is a totally non-scientific manner in which I am determining whatever the hell I am rambling on about.

Sequels have been proven to not simply be a marketing ploy for Disney to sell a bunch of Direct-to-VHS/DVD movies (although, in its defense, The Lion King 2 is actually quite enjoyable... moreso than most of its sequel counterparts via Disney). There are loads of bad sequels or sequels that incredibly disappoint.

But I remember seeing both Shrek the Third and Spider-man 3 and easily disliking the both of them. Shrek the Third had its moments and Spider-man 3 had James Franco being the only good thing about the entire movie, but overall, they were far cries from the first two movies. Even the unsteady X-Men franchise had a decent opening film, an improved second film, and then a blah third film. Other franchises start off with a strong first film and then settle into two mediocre sequels (Pirates of the Caribbean and The Matrix, for example).

Even Return of the Jedi and The Godfather, Part III, while both being good films in their own rights, are still mere shadows of the brilliance of their first two installments. The third Terminator movie was only mediocre. And while Lord of the Rings: Return of the King should disprove this theory that threequels nearly always never measure up, it's an unfair comparison, as all three Lord of the Rings films were made in a grouping, all principal photography done together during the same stretch of time, a nearly identical team of production and post-production for the three films, and the like. And the James Bond franchise also doesn't count in my book, like the Harry Potter franchise (although, it is my personal opinion that Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is rather poor), because the two although in the same franchise, really seem to differ between the films. Which is one of my main beefs with the entire Harry Potter film franchise. Keeping the same cast does not unite films. Look at James Bond! You've got to settle on a unified, continuous plot, filming style, and set design. But, alas, this isn't the place for my Harry Potter film rants.

Besides that, however, when a franchise like James Bond has made as many films as it has, each "sequel" tends to differ based on its own natural merits and not on its relation to the past film(s). But, in this vein, yes, both From Russia with Love and Goldfinger are good "sequels."

While I have gotten over the understandable fear of sequels to good material, because there are so many excellent exceptions, many of which are some of my favourite films of all times, it is difficult for me to think of many threequels that have really stood up well. I suppose I could argue that Ocean's Thirteen was a good threequel, after the okay sequel of Ocean's Twelve, but it feels odd comparing Ocean's Eleven to The Godfather or Star Wars, even if it is a fun romp.

Mostly, I am hoping that Pixar might help eliminate my fear of threequels with Toy Story 3. Pixar hasn't disappointed yet, but the odds seem more against them than ever, in my opinion. Other people were pleasantly surprised by the quality of Ratatouille, WALL-E, and Up, but Pixar has been making odd concepts into great films ever since Toy Story. And they made a brilliant sequel to one of those films. But a threequel? Pixar has earned my trust, but threequels haven't. I've met very few threequels I've really liked. I suppose Return of the Jedi and Ocean's Thirteen might be saving graces, but it's hard to get over Sofia Coppola's poor acting in The Godfather, Part III, or everything but James Franco in Spider-man 3.

In conclusion, there really isn't much that can be got out of this roundabout ramble. My point is simply that the fear of sequels has been calmed a bit, despite the annoyance of clear box office bait that is a sequel to The Hangover, Sex and the City 2, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, and so on and so forth. There are some great cinematic experiences that are sequels. However, few threequels have ever risen to any form of glory. I'm hoping Pixar disproves that and then Christopher Nolan makes an assist by making that third Batman movie and making it awesome.

At least in the meantime we've got Inception.