In an effort to make my film watching more legit and academic, I've started a film journal. For now, it's on the blog, but I may move it to paper if updating the blog becomes a hassle. It's a simple way for me to record each film I see, when I see it, and where, and also a little bit of what I thought. We'll see how this works out. You can read it if you want. There's only one entry so far...
habdashcine.blogspot.com
Monday, October 27, 2008
Readers, Dad... They're Called Readers...
I dunno how this is possible. I felt okay about the post below, but not great. I felt like I'd intellectualized the world to pieces, making it all seem so sour and full of angry, angry puss (the pimply kind, not the blister kind), that I felt vindicated and above all "correct" (look at me! A hypocrite, I say), and then I get a nice burst of wonderful, courtesy of a friend's wife and her blog that I kinda sorta stalk (he, my friend, rarely writes on it, and I don't really know his wife too well, so it's mildly awkward to reference her blog, and the fact that I read it, here, but it did quite a number on me...).
While I can spout all kinds of philosophies and ideals and how I feel the world cannot simply be run on the choices of fallible humans, I should never forget the wonderful-ness humanity can bring when channeled in the proper direction. I think that's why politics really infuriate me; not because of their freedom-imposing choices, but because of their hateful speeches and the dirty tactics often employed in order to push one's agenda to the forefront. It all seems so slimey and forced, as opposed to honest and truthful. But, in spite of it all, I believe that no matter what freedoms are destroyed, humanity will always be able to find joy.
Life sucks. It's pretty much as cut and dried as that, but it cannot suck the entire life out of what we have come to enjoy. In pursuing our own self-interests, we have the right to find happiness and joy, and hopefully we can all be altruistic human beings, and make our own joy the joy of others as well. There are many people out there who make it their mission to serve those around them, and to make the lives of others great, while at the same time finding joy in their service. I know I have never served someone without feeling unbelievably good about it. Selfless service, it seems, is the answer to humanity's woes. A society based on service and overall caring of one another is one I can attach myself to.
So, read the below post with caution. I'm trying to answer some questions that I feel are still relatively unanswered in my own life in regards to my understanding of the world outside of my own belief system, and so it rambles, side-tracks and probably confuses more than anything. Just know this: it's more of an attempt at understanding than a soap-box.
That's all....
Oh, and P.S. - Life is Beautiful. Of that I am most assuredly sure...
While I can spout all kinds of philosophies and ideals and how I feel the world cannot simply be run on the choices of fallible humans, I should never forget the wonderful-ness humanity can bring when channeled in the proper direction. I think that's why politics really infuriate me; not because of their freedom-imposing choices, but because of their hateful speeches and the dirty tactics often employed in order to push one's agenda to the forefront. It all seems so slimey and forced, as opposed to honest and truthful. But, in spite of it all, I believe that no matter what freedoms are destroyed, humanity will always be able to find joy.
Life sucks. It's pretty much as cut and dried as that, but it cannot suck the entire life out of what we have come to enjoy. In pursuing our own self-interests, we have the right to find happiness and joy, and hopefully we can all be altruistic human beings, and make our own joy the joy of others as well. There are many people out there who make it their mission to serve those around them, and to make the lives of others great, while at the same time finding joy in their service. I know I have never served someone without feeling unbelievably good about it. Selfless service, it seems, is the answer to humanity's woes. A society based on service and overall caring of one another is one I can attach myself to.
So, read the below post with caution. I'm trying to answer some questions that I feel are still relatively unanswered in my own life in regards to my understanding of the world outside of my own belief system, and so it rambles, side-tracks and probably confuses more than anything. Just know this: it's more of an attempt at understanding than a soap-box.
That's all....
Oh, and P.S. - Life is Beautiful. Of that I am most assuredly sure...
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Bouquets of Sharpened Pencils...
C - Kelly Clarkson. I don't know why, but she popped into my head. Maybe it's her panache for stylish pop/rock attire, or her cute accent, coupled with a raspy bedtime voice that makes Kathleen Turner nervous... Whatever it is, she's managed to make it to my head, and considering the barren womb that has been these past few furlongs, that's quite the feat.
L - 19th Century England, specifically in Northamshirington....
O - A pair of ruddy sunglasses. Blimey!
S - The Luddite movement. You know, something relevant for today...
A - Taking half an UltraDorm, and not waking up with the slightest hangover.
T - I tried to have cybersex once, but I kept getting a busy signal...
Pardon my CLOSAT... It's a bit on the fritz. I've found that my ability to wax witty has been diminished by about 5/11ths since I've been hammering away at the abode of my fore-bearers... I blame the coconut oil.
Still, lately I've found little reason to actually be witty. The world seems to be falling into a state of utter insanity, and we're all left to try and make sense of it all. It's a shame Lion-O isn't around when you need him.... You know, to kick some Deceptecon butt, and take some surnames.
I've grown increasingly impatient with television lately. It seems one cannot escape political ads of all varieties. They all spout their jargon, their beliefs, and always accompanied by somber music. No longer are we looking to the future with hope and sobriety; instead its all about fear tactics and shame spirals. "How can we make Judge Soandso Johnson look more awful today, Mr. Senatorman? Oh, I found this awesome music loop in Soundtrack today. It should scare even the most liberal of Republicrats!" What makes this all the more pathetic and sad is how much the American man (and woman) gets off on this. Americans love a battle, whether it be civil or foreign. Our own political fervor seems to be the root of our inevitable downfall as a country. No longer are we being asked to compromise for the good of a whole; instead we must battle it out, name call, throw stones, mud, thumbtacks and the occasional horseshoe all in the name of Democracy, or rather, our own political party. Our bi-partisan system works because there are always (seriously, always) two sides to every issue. Always. While we could get all Biblical and call one side good and the other evil, we'd ultimately realize the greyness of it all.
I remember reading an article about Atheism where the professed Atheists denounced God fearing believers as "evil". My mind was blown, as I was astounded that someone who didn't believe in God (and naturally, his lovely nemesis) would use a decidedly religious word. It made me realize that to him, Christians, Muslims, etc were "evil", or the opposite of "good", a relative "good" and a relative "evil". So, even in the debate between Good and Evil there are two sides. This man believes ever so strongly that Christians are awful people who deserve no rights, because they bomb things and put chrome fish on their cars, while any Christian would tell you that this man's influence on the world is also "evil". So, who's evil? Are we all evil, both the believers and those who do not? This is that grey area, the area where subjectivity is king.
The problem with politics is that subjectivity rules, and objectivity is impossible. We all believe something. We all feel one way or another about something. Does that make either one of us evil? By the above definition, yes. We're all evil people, because there is inevitably someone out there who despises the very idea of our existence. That someone is also a voter, a passionate person, represented by a council man or congressman, and their vote is what seems to decide who and what is deemed "evil". That's the problem with politics, and it's why I shy away from it in all regards: it places labels on people who simply are expressing their right to believe in something, and ultimately to choose. It doesn't make them evil, or awful, or stupid to believe that stem cell research should move forward, or that gay's should have the right to marry. That's their belief. That's their understanding of their world that surrounds them. It's subjective, and that subjectivity, on both sides of the political arena, is what is bringing down our country, and making it into quite the mess.
I've recently been incredibly interested in the philosophies of Ayn Rand
(pronounced Eye-n, for those curious... I know I was...), the renowned developer of Objectivism. Most of this interest was stemmed from a rather fantastic video game (of all places) entitled Bioshock. 
The game features the exploits of a man named Andrew Ryan, who has come to foster Ms. Rand's belief that man's own happiness is gained through the pursuit of their own self-interests. He creates this underwater city called Rapture, where he houses the greatest minds of the world, in order to establish a higher order. These great thinkers would in turn pursue their own careers with great fervor, hopefully spawning a utopia of perfect ideals and perfect people. Of course, all of this goes down the tubes, once the self-interests of these great minds begin to clash, creating a rather disastrous dystopia, filled with genetically enhanced citizens, brainwashed little girls called Little Sisters, and their deadly bodyguards called Big Daddies. It's all very dramatic and nice, but at the heart of it is this idea of choice, and the difference between being a slave and being free. Agency and the ability to choose is something I hold so dear to me I can't even begin to express it. It is the greatest thing we have in our lives, and anything that takes away our ability to choose is morally wrong (see, there's that subjectivity again... It's quite a beast.... Quite a human beast...). We are endowed with the wonderful ability to be agents unto ourselves; to act as we see fit in a world lacking in answers by the millions. We're all trying to make sense of something we may never fully comprehend, and it creates a lot of confusion. With this agency comes choice, and with that choice comes consequences, and those consequences often destroy the agency of others. So, how can anyone who so adamant about choice be so against the idea of politics, an establishment that lives and dies by the "choices" of others. Well, to put it simply, because by encouraging the choices of others, I no longer feel free.
In the game, you play as a man who has been denied choice. He is a killing machine, responding to the voice of his "master", who repeats the phrase "Would You Kindly" over and over again, in order to move his slave forward. As the game progresses, you learn how it was only through the choices of others, namely Andrew Ryan and Frank Fontaine, another pivotal character in the game, that led the Hero to this point of complete slavery. The conflicting self-interests of these two great minds led to the slavery of hundreds of people, including the main character. How can that be a wonderful thing? This game seems to be a cautionary tale, as most dystopian stories tend to be, but the parallel's to our own world are impeccable. The choices of the older generation could very well make slaves of their progeny. Slaves not to a human master, but slaves to ideals they can no longer choose whether to accept or deny. No compromise seems possible in the cases of human choice, because it is our right and privilege to live as we will, and choose as we will. But, in a society where the choices of so few affect the freedom of so many, how can we continue to believe in the idea that we cannot choose compromise? Is that choice beyond our understanding? Is it a choice that impedes on our own beliefs? Maybe. And some would say that compromise is the seed of Communism, and that's a fair statement, but really? No qualified precedent has been set when it comes to worthwhile communism, so it's impossible to really say anything like that.
EDIT: One thing to note about Bioshock is that ultimately, the message is of hope (well, depending on certain choices that you are capable of making). Throughout the game, you are required to kill the Big Daddies, in order to get to the Little Sisters. Why? You could leave the Big Daddies alone, because they only harm you if you attack them, but because of what these Little Sisters are capable of. They contain within them an element called Adam, which allows the bearer of this element the ability to genetically modify themselves. When you rescue a Little Sister from a Big Daddy, you are given a choice, a very clear choice: you can either Harvest the Little Sister for all of her Adam (which equals a lot of precious Adam), or you can Save them (which gives you some Adam, but not a lot). You are encouraged to save them by another character pivotal to the game's story, Dr. Tenenbaum, and she rewards you for making the correct choice. And so does that game. By choosing to save every Little Sister, you in return are rewarded with the true ending to the game, which is a positive one, and a hopeful one. Why do I mention this? Well, because it emphasizes the fact that in spite of our own slavery in regards to the choices of our fore-bearers, we are still free to choose to make the next generation free. These Little Sisters are indeed young girls, slaves to a system. But you can free them, and let them live a normal life outside the corrupt walls of Rapture. This, I suppose, is the reason for our political system: to allow many to choose to make our future generations capable of living as free a life as is humanly possible.
So, I don't know. I'm rambling. I'm usually one to not take a stance on politics publicly, but this recent election season has made me afraid of the choices that will affect my freedoms. However, I simply cannot believe that even my choices are for the good of anyone, including myself. I make stupid mistakes everyday, some of which I regret more than others, so who am I to make choices like this? I'm as fallible as the next guy, incapable of choosing which show to watch on a Thursday night, or which fast food restaurant to clog my arteries with.... I'm not fit to choose the freedoms of others. I'm not fit to know what's best for everyone. What I do know is that I cannot stand by a system that places freedom in human hands, for man has historically been incapable of keeping freedoms free. We pursue our self-interests with a fury like no other, and we knock down several people on our way. I'm not ready to my faith in that system. I'm not ready to be a part of that.
And so, I'll leave you with that, Blog-O-Friends. Choice. Consequences. Freedoms. Quite the philosophical mess....
- Side Question for Thought - If subjectivity rules our own perception of reality, then wouldn't certain freedoms also be considered subjective? I'll let you discuss that one yourself, as I'm sure it's a doozy...
**Blog posting has been paid for by The Irresponsible Voters of America**
L - 19th Century England, specifically in Northamshirington....
O - A pair of ruddy sunglasses. Blimey!
S - The Luddite movement. You know, something relevant for today...
A - Taking half an UltraDorm, and not waking up with the slightest hangover.
T - I tried to have cybersex once, but I kept getting a busy signal...
Pardon my CLOSAT... It's a bit on the fritz. I've found that my ability to wax witty has been diminished by about 5/11ths since I've been hammering away at the abode of my fore-bearers... I blame the coconut oil.
Still, lately I've found little reason to actually be witty. The world seems to be falling into a state of utter insanity, and we're all left to try and make sense of it all. It's a shame Lion-O isn't around when you need him.... You know, to kick some Deceptecon butt, and take some surnames.
I've grown increasingly impatient with television lately. It seems one cannot escape political ads of all varieties. They all spout their jargon, their beliefs, and always accompanied by somber music. No longer are we looking to the future with hope and sobriety; instead its all about fear tactics and shame spirals. "How can we make Judge Soandso Johnson look more awful today, Mr. Senatorman? Oh, I found this awesome music loop in Soundtrack today. It should scare even the most liberal of Republicrats!" What makes this all the more pathetic and sad is how much the American man (and woman) gets off on this. Americans love a battle, whether it be civil or foreign. Our own political fervor seems to be the root of our inevitable downfall as a country. No longer are we being asked to compromise for the good of a whole; instead we must battle it out, name call, throw stones, mud, thumbtacks and the occasional horseshoe all in the name of Democracy, or rather, our own political party. Our bi-partisan system works because there are always (seriously, always) two sides to every issue. Always. While we could get all Biblical and call one side good and the other evil, we'd ultimately realize the greyness of it all.
I remember reading an article about Atheism where the professed Atheists denounced God fearing believers as "evil". My mind was blown, as I was astounded that someone who didn't believe in God (and naturally, his lovely nemesis) would use a decidedly religious word. It made me realize that to him, Christians, Muslims, etc were "evil", or the opposite of "good", a relative "good" and a relative "evil". So, even in the debate between Good and Evil there are two sides. This man believes ever so strongly that Christians are awful people who deserve no rights, because they bomb things and put chrome fish on their cars, while any Christian would tell you that this man's influence on the world is also "evil". So, who's evil? Are we all evil, both the believers and those who do not? This is that grey area, the area where subjectivity is king.
The problem with politics is that subjectivity rules, and objectivity is impossible. We all believe something. We all feel one way or another about something. Does that make either one of us evil? By the above definition, yes. We're all evil people, because there is inevitably someone out there who despises the very idea of our existence. That someone is also a voter, a passionate person, represented by a council man or congressman, and their vote is what seems to decide who and what is deemed "evil". That's the problem with politics, and it's why I shy away from it in all regards: it places labels on people who simply are expressing their right to believe in something, and ultimately to choose. It doesn't make them evil, or awful, or stupid to believe that stem cell research should move forward, or that gay's should have the right to marry. That's their belief. That's their understanding of their world that surrounds them. It's subjective, and that subjectivity, on both sides of the political arena, is what is bringing down our country, and making it into quite the mess.
I've recently been incredibly interested in the philosophies of Ayn Rand
(pronounced Eye-n, for those curious... I know I was...), the renowned developer of Objectivism. Most of this interest was stemmed from a rather fantastic video game (of all places) entitled Bioshock. The game features the exploits of a man named Andrew Ryan, who has come to foster Ms. Rand's belief that man's own happiness is gained through the pursuit of their own self-interests. He creates this underwater city called Rapture, where he houses the greatest minds of the world, in order to establish a higher order. These great thinkers would in turn pursue their own careers with great fervor, hopefully spawning a utopia of perfect ideals and perfect people. Of course, all of this goes down the tubes, once the self-interests of these great minds begin to clash, creating a rather disastrous dystopia, filled with genetically enhanced citizens, brainwashed little girls called Little Sisters, and their deadly bodyguards called Big Daddies. It's all very dramatic and nice, but at the heart of it is this idea of choice, and the difference between being a slave and being free. Agency and the ability to choose is something I hold so dear to me I can't even begin to express it. It is the greatest thing we have in our lives, and anything that takes away our ability to choose is morally wrong (see, there's that subjectivity again... It's quite a beast.... Quite a human beast...). We are endowed with the wonderful ability to be agents unto ourselves; to act as we see fit in a world lacking in answers by the millions. We're all trying to make sense of something we may never fully comprehend, and it creates a lot of confusion. With this agency comes choice, and with that choice comes consequences, and those consequences often destroy the agency of others. So, how can anyone who so adamant about choice be so against the idea of politics, an establishment that lives and dies by the "choices" of others. Well, to put it simply, because by encouraging the choices of others, I no longer feel free.In the game, you play as a man who has been denied choice. He is a killing machine, responding to the voice of his "master", who repeats the phrase "Would You Kindly" over and over again, in order to move his slave forward. As the game progresses, you learn how it was only through the choices of others, namely Andrew Ryan and Frank Fontaine, another pivotal character in the game, that led the Hero to this point of complete slavery. The conflicting self-interests of these two great minds led to the slavery of hundreds of people, including the main character. How can that be a wonderful thing? This game seems to be a cautionary tale, as most dystopian stories tend to be, but the parallel's to our own world are impeccable. The choices of the older generation could very well make slaves of their progeny. Slaves not to a human master, but slaves to ideals they can no longer choose whether to accept or deny. No compromise seems possible in the cases of human choice, because it is our right and privilege to live as we will, and choose as we will. But, in a society where the choices of so few affect the freedom of so many, how can we continue to believe in the idea that we cannot choose compromise? Is that choice beyond our understanding? Is it a choice that impedes on our own beliefs? Maybe. And some would say that compromise is the seed of Communism, and that's a fair statement, but really? No qualified precedent has been set when it comes to worthwhile communism, so it's impossible to really say anything like that.
EDIT: One thing to note about Bioshock is that ultimately, the message is of hope (well, depending on certain choices that you are capable of making). Throughout the game, you are required to kill the Big Daddies, in order to get to the Little Sisters. Why? You could leave the Big Daddies alone, because they only harm you if you attack them, but because of what these Little Sisters are capable of. They contain within them an element called Adam, which allows the bearer of this element the ability to genetically modify themselves. When you rescue a Little Sister from a Big Daddy, you are given a choice, a very clear choice: you can either Harvest the Little Sister for all of her Adam (which equals a lot of precious Adam), or you can Save them (which gives you some Adam, but not a lot). You are encouraged to save them by another character pivotal to the game's story, Dr. Tenenbaum, and she rewards you for making the correct choice. And so does that game. By choosing to save every Little Sister, you in return are rewarded with the true ending to the game, which is a positive one, and a hopeful one. Why do I mention this? Well, because it emphasizes the fact that in spite of our own slavery in regards to the choices of our fore-bearers, we are still free to choose to make the next generation free. These Little Sisters are indeed young girls, slaves to a system. But you can free them, and let them live a normal life outside the corrupt walls of Rapture. This, I suppose, is the reason for our political system: to allow many to choose to make our future generations capable of living as free a life as is humanly possible.So, I don't know. I'm rambling. I'm usually one to not take a stance on politics publicly, but this recent election season has made me afraid of the choices that will affect my freedoms. However, I simply cannot believe that even my choices are for the good of anyone, including myself. I make stupid mistakes everyday, some of which I regret more than others, so who am I to make choices like this? I'm as fallible as the next guy, incapable of choosing which show to watch on a Thursday night, or which fast food restaurant to clog my arteries with.... I'm not fit to choose the freedoms of others. I'm not fit to know what's best for everyone. What I do know is that I cannot stand by a system that places freedom in human hands, for man has historically been incapable of keeping freedoms free. We pursue our self-interests with a fury like no other, and we knock down several people on our way. I'm not ready to my faith in that system. I'm not ready to be a part of that.
And so, I'll leave you with that, Blog-O-Friends. Choice. Consequences. Freedoms. Quite the philosophical mess....
- Side Question for Thought - If subjectivity rules our own perception of reality, then wouldn't certain freedoms also be considered subjective? I'll let you discuss that one yourself, as I'm sure it's a doozy...
**Blog posting has been paid for by The Irresponsible Voters of America**
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Chills, Glorious Chills...
Do not watch if you're not caught up with LOST. However, if you are, watch... Enjoy... Bask in the awesome that'll be season 5.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Awesome...
Monday, September 29, 2008
The Return
Thanks to Spencer's blog, and John August and several other unknown people, I now have a new and improved Scrippets to try out...
Here it goes.
INT. DISCOTHEQUE - NIGHT
Hogarth, a frail man in his 20s enters the neon lit floor of the discotheque. Surrounding him are fools and tramps, each dancing more atrociously and vivaciously than the next. Hogarth stands, anxious. He spies a beautiful woman across the room, hair feathered to perfection, platforms 9 and 3/4 inches tall. He approaches.
HOGARTH
I want you to know how beautiful you look this evening.
WOMAN
(Russian accent)
Thank you. I cherish your compliments, tiny man.
Hogarth blushes.
WOMAN
Would you like to dance?
Hogarth stands, silent, thinking. Then, he pounces, grabbing her neck, and pulling her head towards his lips. Awkwardly, he kisses her eye, snatching off her fake eyelashes.
The woman, shocked, stares back at Hogarth, Then she pounces, grabbing him by his long hair, and kissing him square on the mouth. It was love.
Let's see if this worked...
Nice....
Here it goes.
INT. DISCOTHEQUE - NIGHT
Hogarth, a frail man in his 20s enters the neon lit floor of the discotheque. Surrounding him are fools and tramps, each dancing more atrociously and vivaciously than the next. Hogarth stands, anxious. He spies a beautiful woman across the room, hair feathered to perfection, platforms 9 and 3/4 inches tall. He approaches.
HOGARTH
I want you to know how beautiful you look this evening.
WOMAN
(Russian accent)
Thank you. I cherish your compliments, tiny man.
Hogarth blushes.
WOMAN
Would you like to dance?
Hogarth stands, silent, thinking. Then, he pounces, grabbing her neck, and pulling her head towards his lips. Awkwardly, he kisses her eye, snatching off her fake eyelashes.
The woman, shocked, stares back at Hogarth, Then she pounces, grabbing him by his long hair, and kissing him square on the mouth. It was love.
Let's see if this worked...
Nice....
Monday, September 22, 2008
It Hurts When I Smile...
I tend to steer clear of reviewing films here (I'm not a fan of placing any sort of rating on a film. Either I like it, or I don't. No stars, thumbs, or letters for me), but I want to give this particular film a push, since it performed pretty terribly this past weekend, and it's not because it's a bad film:
The previews can't sell the humor of this film. If any of you have seen either The Office (BBC edition) or Extras, you'll understand the humor of Ricky Gervais and why it's all about the moment, and that's not easy to sell in montage form, no matter what Beatles song you put under it. I mean, this is the man who originated Michael Scott*, and helped to redefine awkward in comedy, so you can expect much of the same in this film. Gervais plays charming and slimy like the best of 'em, and he does it in spades in this film. Yes, it's a romantic comedy, but it's of the best kind. Yes, the story smells (okay, reeks) of films like The Sixth Sense, Ghost, or even Topper, but as Carl Jung would say, they are simply a part of a similar consciousness... Overall, it's a fantastically funny film, with a winning cast and some nice moments of genuine sentiment (it had me, and I'm not an easy get). I want it to do better this next weekend, even though, realistically, it won't. But, even if it continues to flop at the box office, at least you'll have seen a good film, and in the broad scheme of things, the film got made, and it made me and possibly you happy, so job (well) done; Mission: Accomplished.
*Yes, technically, he didn't, but any discerning viewer would say that he and David Brent (Gervais' role) were cut from the same cloth, and since Ricky did it first, well, you get the point...
The previews can't sell the humor of this film. If any of you have seen either The Office (BBC edition) or Extras, you'll understand the humor of Ricky Gervais and why it's all about the moment, and that's not easy to sell in montage form, no matter what Beatles song you put under it. I mean, this is the man who originated Michael Scott*, and helped to redefine awkward in comedy, so you can expect much of the same in this film. Gervais plays charming and slimy like the best of 'em, and he does it in spades in this film. Yes, it's a romantic comedy, but it's of the best kind. Yes, the story smells (okay, reeks) of films like The Sixth Sense, Ghost, or even Topper, but as Carl Jung would say, they are simply a part of a similar consciousness... Overall, it's a fantastically funny film, with a winning cast and some nice moments of genuine sentiment (it had me, and I'm not an easy get). I want it to do better this next weekend, even though, realistically, it won't. But, even if it continues to flop at the box office, at least you'll have seen a good film, and in the broad scheme of things, the film got made, and it made me and possibly you happy, so job (well) done; Mission: Accomplished.
*Yes, technically, he didn't, but any discerning viewer would say that he and David Brent (Gervais' role) were cut from the same cloth, and since Ricky did it first, well, you get the point...
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Honest to Blog...
Here's why* I love Diablo Cody so much. I've mentioned her several times, mostly in passing, but I've come to respect her rise to the top as being genuine and rather entertaining. Most people seem to have a problem with her quick rise to fame, but I see it as a wonderful Cinderella story with a stripper twist. She's big. Steven Spielberg's working with her big, and apparently, many people have a problem with that. So, here's her response to the nay-sayers, and frankly I have to applaud her for this. The blog world is one that I've been incredibly critical of ever since I joined my first forum and felt the fire from raging lunatics bent on proving to me why the Xbox was better than a Gamecube, or why Empire of the Sun is Spielberg's most childish filmmaking effort; I've had my fair share of mud slung (is that right? slung, sling, slinged....) in my direction, so I feel her pain (in a very tiny, "I'm not an Oscar winner" way). I've been a huge advocate of her's since I saw Juno back in December of last year, because I recognized something incredibly rare in her script, and in the film: raw talent. Yeah, the film was plagued with hipster slang, and the usual glut of indie comedy quirkiness, but I just adored it for being the debut screenplay that it was. It's always fun for me to see someone like her make it big.
I remember watching the special features on Romancing the Stone (its good, so yeah, whatever), and there was a feature specifically dedicated to the film's screenwriter, Diane Thomas. Stone was her first produced screenplay as well, and it was absolutely genre-defining (romantic-comedy-adventures were not that common), and it brought her tons of success. Sadly, she passed away in a car accident before her career could really take off, but that's not the point: she created something special her first time out, and that's commendable.
The same goes for Ms. Cody. She proved that you didn't need a film degree to make a great script. I envy that. I'm honest with myself when it comes to my ability as a writer; I'm not that good. I try to be, every time I open Final Draft and begin something, but what I've been able to accomplish has been through tons of classes, and long, hard workshopping sessions. I do not believe I have all of the talent she possesses, and I'm okay with that. But to be so viciously jealous of that to the point of empty hatred strikes me as absurd and rather 3rd Grade. She's got talent. Deal with it. And that's why I love this post. It shows that she can mingle words together to create something that very effectively brings down those who seek to gain "stature" by bringing her down. She's honest about her success. She's honest about Juno's success, and she doesn't care what you have to say. Well, she does, or else she wouldn't say it, but in all honesty, that's what I love about her. She still blogs. She still posts regularly on her Twitter. She still goes on ridiculously awesome 5-day roller coaster vacations with regular people, none of whom subscribe to Variety.
She's a woman after my own heart. And while I'll never be a stripper (Hot Cops!), or a phone sex operator, I will hopefully be a screenwriter. She's proof that talent outshines anything else in this biz, no matter what people say. You see it time and time again. I hope I have talent. People tell me I do, and that's nice and all, but I still don't buy it. I struggle everyday to put words on the page, and make something of my free-time, and part of that has to do with my fears that this business can ruin even the best. I watch shows like "Entourage" and "The Comeback" (Lisa Kudrow, 2005... IMDb it) and I wonder how anyone can manage to live in LA and not want to completely lose their mind. But, the only thing that gets me by, and the small glimmer of hope I have for this industry lies in people like Diablo. Hate her style, hate her films, or whatever, but admire her tenacity. Give credit where credit is due: she's a published writer and a produced screenwriter, and while same may say it fell in her lap, well, they just weren't paying attention. She's got it. And by it, I mean talent... Really...
*WARNING: Diablo's language is EXTREMELY colorful, and probably offensive to a lot of people. You've been warned. If you aren't super offended by language, scroll down a bit past the roller coaster picture and start with the paragraph beginning "I am not Charlie Kaufman..." Again, you've been warned... In fact, don't read this... It's a bit much... I shouldn't even read it. I'll summarize for the class:
I remember watching the special features on Romancing the Stone (its good, so yeah, whatever), and there was a feature specifically dedicated to the film's screenwriter, Diane Thomas. Stone was her first produced screenplay as well, and it was absolutely genre-defining (romantic-comedy-adventures were not that common), and it brought her tons of success. Sadly, she passed away in a car accident before her career could really take off, but that's not the point: she created something special her first time out, and that's commendable.
The same goes for Ms. Cody. She proved that you didn't need a film degree to make a great script. I envy that. I'm honest with myself when it comes to my ability as a writer; I'm not that good. I try to be, every time I open Final Draft and begin something, but what I've been able to accomplish has been through tons of classes, and long, hard workshopping sessions. I do not believe I have all of the talent she possesses, and I'm okay with that. But to be so viciously jealous of that to the point of empty hatred strikes me as absurd and rather 3rd Grade. She's got talent. Deal with it. And that's why I love this post. It shows that she can mingle words together to create something that very effectively brings down those who seek to gain "stature" by bringing her down. She's honest about her success. She's honest about Juno's success, and she doesn't care what you have to say. Well, she does, or else she wouldn't say it, but in all honesty, that's what I love about her. She still blogs. She still posts regularly on her Twitter. She still goes on ridiculously awesome 5-day roller coaster vacations with regular people, none of whom subscribe to Variety.
She's a woman after my own heart. And while I'll never be a stripper (Hot Cops!), or a phone sex operator, I will hopefully be a screenwriter. She's proof that talent outshines anything else in this biz, no matter what people say. You see it time and time again. I hope I have talent. People tell me I do, and that's nice and all, but I still don't buy it. I struggle everyday to put words on the page, and make something of my free-time, and part of that has to do with my fears that this business can ruin even the best. I watch shows like "Entourage" and "The Comeback" (Lisa Kudrow, 2005... IMDb it) and I wonder how anyone can manage to live in LA and not want to completely lose their mind. But, the only thing that gets me by, and the small glimmer of hope I have for this industry lies in people like Diablo. Hate her style, hate her films, or whatever, but admire her tenacity. Give credit where credit is due: she's a published writer and a produced screenwriter, and while same may say it fell in her lap, well, they just weren't paying attention. She's got it. And by it, I mean talent... Really...
*WARNING: Diablo's language is EXTREMELY colorful, and probably offensive to a lot of people. You've been warned. If you aren't super offended by language, scroll down a bit past the roller coaster picture and start with the paragraph beginning "I am not Charlie Kaufman..." Again, you've been warned... In fact, don't read this... It's a bit much... I shouldn't even read it. I'll summarize for the class:
Diablo hates haters. She's successful, so deal with it. Try her job for a day, and then tell me if you like it... All in all, it's not easy, and she's good at what she does. Hate Juno, hate her, but respect the talent... The End... There.... No vulgarity, no worries!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Scripts-Mini
INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY
Charlie, a man in his mid thirties, walks in casually through the door. He stops short of the counter, and looks straight into the eyes of the cashier.
CHARLIE
What's up, sweet cheeks. I see your hair line fracture has healed rather nicely since the last time we spoke.
His manner is crass and vulgar.
This was a test of the Scrippet plug-in developed by John August and Friends. It doesn't quite work as nicely as it does on his site, but oh well...
WWLDD?*
If you haven't seen this already, then shame on you, because it's quite possibly the funniest thing SNL has created since D**k in a Box (or that Surprise Party sketch, but anything with Kristen Wiig is bound to be a cut above):
See? I guess I'm not the only one who saw the connection... And if her miming the shotgun isn't enough to just love Ms. Fey all over the place, then I don't know what is.
Tell me if this is sad or not: I watched a re-run of 30 Rock last week, and seriously just smiled the whole way through. Naturally, I laughed a lot, but man I just can't get enough of her! Seeing her next to Amy Poehler was a treat, and I hope so desperately that she continues to do Gov. Palin well into the election...
*Look to the right...
See? I guess I'm not the only one who saw the connection... And if her miming the shotgun isn't enough to just love Ms. Fey all over the place, then I don't know what is.
Tell me if this is sad or not: I watched a re-run of 30 Rock last week, and seriously just smiled the whole way through. Naturally, I laughed a lot, but man I just can't get enough of her! Seeing her next to Amy Poehler was a treat, and I hope so desperately that she continues to do Gov. Palin well into the election...
*Look to the right...
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Get Rid of the Seaward...
So, I headed out to West Beverly Hills High today for the first time in over 10 years... It was glossy, musically hip, and appropriately teen-friendly, which means it is exactly what I should not be watching.
Buuuut...
There is one good reason to watch:
My dear Lucille... or Jessica Walter, for purists.
Now, it's important, if you are going to watch the show for her, that you have some sort of DVR set-up, whether that's a TiVo of some FauxVo from your local cable or satellite carrier. The reason for this is because, in all honesty, the only good scenes are those that feature Lucille (Tabitha in this case), and so it is extremely necessary (please note the extreme nature of this warning) that you fast-forward through the dreck that is 90210: The New Class (not the real title, just my harsh, judging title for the show, which references another beloved teen show that went awry with fresh blood).
For those returning to West Beverly (like myself), you can stop on the scenes that feature Jennie Garth, Shannen Doherty or that dude from the Peach Pit, but really, there's not much else to see or care about.
Keep in mind that while Ms. Walter does indeed channel Lucille Bluth in her portrayl of drunk 70s movie star Tabitha Mills, her character is extremely one-note, and incredibly flat (at least in the pilot). Still, it's pretty amusing to see our favorite matriarch portraying someone else for a change, even if the performance varies little... I'm all for her continuing to please AD fans by giving us a new weekly dose, so bring it on... Here's hoping she gets more to do... but I find that highly unlikely, considering the 2 hour premiere already felt over-crowded and weighed down by shallow attempts at nostalgia. The show's about the teens, and it will always be about them... Whatever, I say, but I'm not this show's demo at all, so I'll just shut my mouth, grab my TiVo remote, and enjoy what little is left of the Bluths on television.
Buuuut...
There is one good reason to watch:
My dear Lucille... or Jessica Walter, for purists.
Now, it's important, if you are going to watch the show for her, that you have some sort of DVR set-up, whether that's a TiVo of some FauxVo from your local cable or satellite carrier. The reason for this is because, in all honesty, the only good scenes are those that feature Lucille (Tabitha in this case), and so it is extremely necessary (please note the extreme nature of this warning) that you fast-forward through the dreck that is 90210: The New Class (not the real title, just my harsh, judging title for the show, which references another beloved teen show that went awry with fresh blood).
For those returning to West Beverly (like myself), you can stop on the scenes that feature Jennie Garth, Shannen Doherty or that dude from the Peach Pit, but really, there's not much else to see or care about.
Keep in mind that while Ms. Walter does indeed channel Lucille Bluth in her portrayl of drunk 70s movie star Tabitha Mills, her character is extremely one-note, and incredibly flat (at least in the pilot). Still, it's pretty amusing to see our favorite matriarch portraying someone else for a change, even if the performance varies little... I'm all for her continuing to please AD fans by giving us a new weekly dose, so bring it on... Here's hoping she gets more to do... but I find that highly unlikely, considering the 2 hour premiere already felt over-crowded and weighed down by shallow attempts at nostalgia. The show's about the teens, and it will always be about them... Whatever, I say, but I'm not this show's demo at all, so I'll just shut my mouth, grab my TiVo remote, and enjoy what little is left of the Bluths on television.
**For those of you who are completely confused, this post in in reference to the new 90210 show, which premiered this past week on The CW. Next time, come to class prepared... I don't want to have to explain myself all the time...**
Friday, September 05, 2008
I Wish I Could Draw Her Nose...
I figured someone would have to come around and poop on the party, but I never thought it'd be George Michael...
Read it and taste the sad...
Read it and taste the sad...
Thursday, September 04, 2008
You Stay Classy...
C - Sarah Palin... not because I may or may not vote for her and John McCain this November, or because she's the GOP's answer to Hilary Clinton (?) and Obama's ability to capture the coveted 18-49 demographic, but because she looks like Tina Fey... Yeah, I'm that superficial...
Honorable mention goes to Paul Rudd. Why? Cause he's just cool...
L - Rancho Peñasquitos, or The Ranch of the Little Rocks in Espanol. It's my new home, and also my prison. Interpret that as you will. Shouldn't be too hard.
O - My TiVo. I'm rekindling my love for it, especially while using my parent's awful DVR from Time Warner Cable.
S - Embracing unemployment by doing absolutely nothing...
A - Finally finishing the first disc of Alias Season 4. Not super great, but Kelly Macdonald guested, and it was magically delicious...
T - Don't leave good friends, no matter how tempting the HDTV your parents has is.
Update! So far, so bad. I'm pretty miserable. Not much else to say.
I don't even know what to write about. I'm in a permanent state of arrested development (hey! that's the name of the show!), trying desperately to figure out the next four months (at least). I figure I need to probably take advantage of my time here in SD, you know, to become a true San Diegan and wear my colors with pride. I spent so much time here before wallowing in my inability to be elsewhere that I'm pretty sure I missed out on a lot of cool things. But, what makes those things better is when you have people to share it with, and as of this moment, I have none of that.
So, here's a call for all of my single lady friends: You wanna get hitched? I'm pretty sure I could be happily married to most of you, so why not, right? As long as you bring the funny, I'm good to go...
But no, seriously... I'm really only half kidding, so... think about it?... Please? *wink*
I dunno. Marriage looks cool and all, from an outsiders perspective, but is it really all that and a bag of chips? Really? Constant companionship from the one companion you get to choose? Always having someone to sleep next to, cuddle with, and talk to? Can't be THAT awesome, can it?
....
No, that's not a sniffle... It's a cold.....
.....
........
...........
................
..................................
Okay, there's no need to make the obvious known....
ANYway, enough of the wallowing... On to the next!!
..
...
*sniff*
Honorable mention goes to Paul Rudd. Why? Cause he's just cool...
L - Rancho Peñasquitos, or The Ranch of the Little Rocks in Espanol. It's my new home, and also my prison. Interpret that as you will. Shouldn't be too hard.
O - My TiVo. I'm rekindling my love for it, especially while using my parent's awful DVR from Time Warner Cable.
S - Embracing unemployment by doing absolutely nothing...
A - Finally finishing the first disc of Alias Season 4. Not super great, but Kelly Macdonald guested, and it was magically delicious...
T - Don't leave good friends, no matter how tempting the HDTV your parents has is.
Update! So far, so bad. I'm pretty miserable. Not much else to say.
I don't even know what to write about. I'm in a permanent state of arrested development (hey! that's the name of the show!), trying desperately to figure out the next four months (at least). I figure I need to probably take advantage of my time here in SD, you know, to become a true San Diegan and wear my colors with pride. I spent so much time here before wallowing in my inability to be elsewhere that I'm pretty sure I missed out on a lot of cool things. But, what makes those things better is when you have people to share it with, and as of this moment, I have none of that.
So, here's a call for all of my single lady friends: You wanna get hitched? I'm pretty sure I could be happily married to most of you, so why not, right? As long as you bring the funny, I'm good to go...
But no, seriously... I'm really only half kidding, so... think about it?... Please? *wink*
I dunno. Marriage looks cool and all, from an outsiders perspective, but is it really all that and a bag of chips? Really? Constant companionship from the one companion you get to choose? Always having someone to sleep next to, cuddle with, and talk to? Can't be THAT awesome, can it?
....
No, that's not a sniffle... It's a cold.....
.....
........
...........
................
..................................
Okay, there's no need to make the obvious known....
ANYway, enough of the wallowing... On to the next!!
..
...
*sniff*
Friday, August 15, 2008
Higgins!
As I'm writing this, my tragically hip new "roommate" (the quotes are mostly there to emphasize the short time with which he and I will share this house) is moving in. Now, I've "met" him before, in passing mostly, but there's one thing that I cannot get over about him. Now, mind you, this is completely a superficial judgement, but it's something that has boiled up inside of me for some time now, and frankly, I can't take much more... Anyway, back to the subject at hand... My new "roommate" has one of those mustaches... you know, the creepy pedophile, Tom Selleck-circa-1986 mustaches. And, I dislike them. A lot. Why do I dislike them so? Probably because of the mouths they find themselves attached to... Traditionally, these mustaches find themselves on the faces of individuals who fancy themselves hip. So hip, in fact, that they feel it is necessary to be ANTI-hip, meaning, they counteract any semblance of decency, and go for borderline grotesque.
I don't know how many times I've seen these folks out and about, sporting vintage tees (often tank tops), and short shorts, along with their mustaches. They often have cut-offs (thankfully, not of the Never Nude label) and slip ons, and their hair is often windswept or just poorly cut. Again, all of this appears to be an attempt to be the exact opposite of appealing. I guess, maybe, I'm simply out of touch/whack/place, but if that were the case, I'd see this trend on more than just a select few, and certainly elsewhere besides the lovable city I call college home.
Anyway, this house I live in currently, seems to be like a bug light for people of this variety. Not long ago, our house was the famed "30 Minute Dance Party" house, and again, in an effort to appear more than awesome (?), several folks sporting these creepy mustaches would show up, dance awkwardly for 30 minutes, and then hang out, sweaty and repulsive outside on the front lawn. This lasted for about a year, which was long enough for me, because I sadly became rather annoyed with these shindigs, mostly because of the crowd they attracted: this dingy, creepy, anti-hip scenester crowd that was simply "too cool for school."
Anyway, long story short, I hate mustaches, of almost any variety. Tom Selleck can get away with one, because he's Thomas Magnum. He can pull off the short shorts, and the bushy mustache look. This trend was never meant for a revival, people. Certain things disappear for good for a reason, and sadly, the 80s is full of 'em.
I can only pray that this trend will end, like flared jeans and aviator sunglasses... In general, I dig the vintage aesthetic, specifically in regards to men's clothing (suits, in particular), but I draw the line at the things that require one to shop only at vintage clothing stores. Let's leave some things in the past, clothing included, but especially our facial hair.
I don't know how many times I've seen these folks out and about, sporting vintage tees (often tank tops), and short shorts, along with their mustaches. They often have cut-offs (thankfully, not of the Never Nude label) and slip ons, and their hair is often windswept or just poorly cut. Again, all of this appears to be an attempt to be the exact opposite of appealing. I guess, maybe, I'm simply out of touch/whack/place, but if that were the case, I'd see this trend on more than just a select few, and certainly elsewhere besides the lovable city I call college home.
Anyway, this house I live in currently, seems to be like a bug light for people of this variety. Not long ago, our house was the famed "30 Minute Dance Party" house, and again, in an effort to appear more than awesome (?), several folks sporting these creepy mustaches would show up, dance awkwardly for 30 minutes, and then hang out, sweaty and repulsive outside on the front lawn. This lasted for about a year, which was long enough for me, because I sadly became rather annoyed with these shindigs, mostly because of the crowd they attracted: this dingy, creepy, anti-hip scenester crowd that was simply "too cool for school."
Anyway, long story short, I hate mustaches, of almost any variety. Tom Selleck can get away with one, because he's Thomas Magnum. He can pull off the short shorts, and the bushy mustache look. This trend was never meant for a revival, people. Certain things disappear for good for a reason, and sadly, the 80s is full of 'em.
I can only pray that this trend will end, like flared jeans and aviator sunglasses... In general, I dig the vintage aesthetic, specifically in regards to men's clothing (suits, in particular), but I draw the line at the things that require one to shop only at vintage clothing stores. Let's leave some things in the past, clothing included, but especially our facial hair.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Now That's What I'm Talkin' 'Bout!
For all those who disliked Hancock, or even for those who liked it, and can't understand why people like myself couldn't stand it, you should read this. But, if you haven't seen it, don't read it, as it's loaded with spoilery-bits. On the other hand, if you didn't see it because it looked dumb, then, rejoice knowing you have $8.50 more in your pocket book, and then read it...
If Hancock Was 10 Times Shorter And 100 Times More Honest
This pretty much sums up why this movie just didn't work. For me, anyway. But, as it appears from this, I'm not alone.
If Hancock Was 10 Times Shorter And 100 Times More Honest
This pretty much sums up why this movie just didn't work. For me, anyway. But, as it appears from this, I'm not alone.
Friday, August 01, 2008
The Choice of a New Generation
So, here I go, once again pointing my blog-o-friends in the direction of some of my favorite media pieces, but alas, media is my life, my obsession and my passion, so that's what you get here at the Haberdashery, so deal with it.
If you haven't seen or heard of Mad Men, the brilliant drama on AMC, then I hope that this post will only encourage you to finally partake of the amazing piece of television.
The show's pedigree is unparalleled. The show's creator, Matthew Weiner, basically went from writing for and producing the most talked about, and critically praised shows of the new millennium, The Sopranos to creating the equally as subversive and brilliant Mad Men. As the story goes, Mr. Weiner's original pilot script for this show was what caught Sopranos exec producer David Chase eye, inspiring him to hire him on. While this little factoid has little bearing on whether or not the show is actually watchable, the good news is that Mr. Chase wasn't wrong in spotting a talent like Weiner, and now because of this, we have the privilege of experiencing Mad Men.
The show's setting is the 1960s world of Madison Avenue advertising, taking its title from a phrase coined at the time to describe these Ad Men, or Mad(ison) Men. Clever, yes, but the title also (naturally) refers to our mad men's state of mind, something that most certainly describes the "hero" of the show, Don Draper, played by relative unknown (to me, anyway) Jon Hamm. He's an unbelievably complex character, who never quite reveals his true colors to us, let alone those he loves. Hamm's nuanced performance is just one of the many highlights of the acting pool of this stellar cast. John Slattery who plays Don's boss, nails the cynicism of a man at the end of his rope, facing death head on, as well as coming to terms with his sad marital life. Christina Hendricks, known by many as Saphron from another fantastic piece of television, Firefly, plays the head secretary (her name escapes me). She too delivers week in and week out, and her fiery sexuality helps give the show an edge that is much more sensual than erotic. It's wonderfully appropriate, given the time period's infamous Puritanism, and she is a stellar example of the beginnings of a more sexually liberated woman.
What I find the most fascinating about the show is that its period setting does not necessarily lend itself to be seen as quaint or as a nice way for the elderly to remember a bygone era. Instead, Weiner picked a time when America was changing fast. The show's first season was peppered with references to the Nixon/Kennedy election, and season 2 begins well into Kennedy's administration. This youthful president was the beginning of dramatic shift in consumer culture, where the emphasis of many people's ad campaigns became the youth of America. Women also were on the cusp of moving past the house-wife tendencies of the 1950s and into a more independent realm. The mousy character played by Elisabeth Moss is a fine example of both how men treated women, but also how women were able to rise above. The conflict in Vietnam lay on the horizon, and that pre-existing knowledge affects the show's eerie atmosphere, as most of us realize the modern gloss of this swank ad agency will soon become superfluous fluff in contrast to the war. All in all, the 1960s was a time when the façade of the 50s was beginning to fade. The gilded men of Sterling Cooper (the ad agency of the show) are beginning to show their true forms, something that society had let settle below the surface for so long. This a group of people who will become the most affected by the change to come, as it'll signal the end of the world they have come to inhabit, and this fact lends to the show's ever-present melancholy.
On a lighter note, the production design and the overall look of the show is impeccable. I cannot get enough of the show's opening credits, as well as the set design. As simple as it may seem to decorate and costume a period drama, for some reason, this stands above the rest as just having that vintage, 1960s feel, without feeling like a set. The actors feel right for the location and the time, and one never get's the sense that we're seeing modern players playing dress up.
I've included an embeded portion of the show's season 2 premiere. Don't worry about it spoiling season one, as there's very little revealed in these first minutes that'll really affect your viewing of the first season. If you are serious about waiting, then at least check out the opening credits, and then the first few minutes or so. Spectacular work.
The show is nominated for a butt-load of Emmy's, and frankly, despite my unabashed love for Lost, I can't help but hope that Mad Men takes it this year. Watch the clip below. Bask in it. Savor it. It's pretty fantastic.
Clip courtesy of Hulu
If you haven't seen or heard of Mad Men, the brilliant drama on AMC, then I hope that this post will only encourage you to finally partake of the amazing piece of television.
The show's pedigree is unparalleled. The show's creator, Matthew Weiner, basically went from writing for and producing the most talked about, and critically praised shows of the new millennium, The Sopranos to creating the equally as subversive and brilliant Mad Men. As the story goes, Mr. Weiner's original pilot script for this show was what caught Sopranos exec producer David Chase eye, inspiring him to hire him on. While this little factoid has little bearing on whether or not the show is actually watchable, the good news is that Mr. Chase wasn't wrong in spotting a talent like Weiner, and now because of this, we have the privilege of experiencing Mad Men.
The show's setting is the 1960s world of Madison Avenue advertising, taking its title from a phrase coined at the time to describe these Ad Men, or Mad(ison) Men. Clever, yes, but the title also (naturally) refers to our mad men's state of mind, something that most certainly describes the "hero" of the show, Don Draper, played by relative unknown (to me, anyway) Jon Hamm. He's an unbelievably complex character, who never quite reveals his true colors to us, let alone those he loves. Hamm's nuanced performance is just one of the many highlights of the acting pool of this stellar cast. John Slattery who plays Don's boss, nails the cynicism of a man at the end of his rope, facing death head on, as well as coming to terms with his sad marital life. Christina Hendricks, known by many as Saphron from another fantastic piece of television, Firefly, plays the head secretary (her name escapes me). She too delivers week in and week out, and her fiery sexuality helps give the show an edge that is much more sensual than erotic. It's wonderfully appropriate, given the time period's infamous Puritanism, and she is a stellar example of the beginnings of a more sexually liberated woman.
What I find the most fascinating about the show is that its period setting does not necessarily lend itself to be seen as quaint or as a nice way for the elderly to remember a bygone era. Instead, Weiner picked a time when America was changing fast. The show's first season was peppered with references to the Nixon/Kennedy election, and season 2 begins well into Kennedy's administration. This youthful president was the beginning of dramatic shift in consumer culture, where the emphasis of many people's ad campaigns became the youth of America. Women also were on the cusp of moving past the house-wife tendencies of the 1950s and into a more independent realm. The mousy character played by Elisabeth Moss is a fine example of both how men treated women, but also how women were able to rise above. The conflict in Vietnam lay on the horizon, and that pre-existing knowledge affects the show's eerie atmosphere, as most of us realize the modern gloss of this swank ad agency will soon become superfluous fluff in contrast to the war. All in all, the 1960s was a time when the façade of the 50s was beginning to fade. The gilded men of Sterling Cooper (the ad agency of the show) are beginning to show their true forms, something that society had let settle below the surface for so long. This a group of people who will become the most affected by the change to come, as it'll signal the end of the world they have come to inhabit, and this fact lends to the show's ever-present melancholy.
On a lighter note, the production design and the overall look of the show is impeccable. I cannot get enough of the show's opening credits, as well as the set design. As simple as it may seem to decorate and costume a period drama, for some reason, this stands above the rest as just having that vintage, 1960s feel, without feeling like a set. The actors feel right for the location and the time, and one never get's the sense that we're seeing modern players playing dress up.
I've included an embeded portion of the show's season 2 premiere. Don't worry about it spoiling season one, as there's very little revealed in these first minutes that'll really affect your viewing of the first season. If you are serious about waiting, then at least check out the opening credits, and then the first few minutes or so. Spectacular work.
The show is nominated for a butt-load of Emmy's, and frankly, despite my unabashed love for Lost, I can't help but hope that Mad Men takes it this year. Watch the clip below. Bask in it. Savor it. It's pretty fantastic.
Clip courtesy of Hulu
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
My Name is Judge...
Normally, I find earthquakes to be unbelievably creepy and unsettling, but this just made me laugh, mostly because of the situation...
The Status is Not Quo
Sorry to hit you ad nauseum with this Dr. Horrible stuff, but I've become such of huge fan of not only the show, but the idea that has driven the show to the success it has had: putting the creativity in the hands of the creatives, and allowing a niche market to spread the word. I recently read Joss' interview (along with Nathan, Neil and Felicia) in Entertainment Weekly, and they discussed this very issue. While the Writer's Strike accomplished very little (at least in my eyes), it did however manage to change how a lot of writers saw the Internet. Fighting for their new media residuals seemed to have simply ignited their excitement for the power of the Internet. Another favorite of mine, John August, also has contributed to this new trend, but his product has yet to see any light (as far as I know), but I'm sure it will. The Internet makes it possible for anyone to post anything, and it's about time we move above and beyond the YouTube crowd, and let the big boys play. Having Joss' show be such a success will only fuel other star writers/directors to flex their Internet muscle, and create original material for the Net. This is what makes me excited.
So, yeah... The reason for this post is to simply point you in the direction of hulu.com, where you'll be pleased to find Dr. Horrible, in its entirety, and for free. So please, if you haven't indulged quite yet, do so now, and enjoy.
Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
I'd embed it here, but it'd probably take a toll on this page's load times, so thank me for sparing you the agony of dial-up like speeds in today's high-speed world...
So, yeah... The reason for this post is to simply point you in the direction of hulu.com, where you'll be pleased to find Dr. Horrible, in its entirety, and for free. So please, if you haven't indulged quite yet, do so now, and enjoy.
Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
I'd embed it here, but it'd probably take a toll on this page's load times, so thank me for sparing you the agony of dial-up like speeds in today's high-speed world...
Friday, July 18, 2008
Joss is Boss
Have you watched it yet? All Three Acts are now up at www.drhorrible.com. Or, in order to further the notion of choice and our unique ability to have one, you can choose to click the above button, which will whisk you magically away from this blog, and into the world of Joss Whedon and Friends...
The show is too much fun to pass up, and with the fact that all that is free will vanish Sunday the 20th at midnight, I would expect all of you blog-o-friends to seriously consider your loyalties to Joss and Friends, and take the most appropriate action.
Things like this don't pop up often, so enjoy it now.
Really.
The Dark Screen
Guess who just saw 9/10ths of The Dark Knight?
Yeah, I know... Talk about poor timing. I get up for a 3:10am showing of quite possibly the most anticipated film of the year, only to have the finale cut short by some sort of "power failure" on the part of the IMAX projector that so deliciously entertained me for about two hours. Not only did I have to sit in line for 2 and a half hours, outside, surrounded by drunks and stoners, but we then had to sit in the theatre and wait for the freakin' thing to start for an extra half an hour (at least, I think it was that long). Finally, the film began, and boy did it begin. Full IMAX glory, bank robbery scene. Seen it before, but it was a good refresher. Anyway, the movie rocked. Or, at least 9/10ths of it rocked. I'm pretty sure the last bit was awesome too, but I cannot judge until I see it. We got free tickets, of course, but no refund (the line to get one was super long). Honestly, two tickets would have sufficed.
Anyway, that's the short story. A lot more tomfoolery went down (drunken beach ball poppers, drunk screamers, someone lighting up a blunt while we waited for the movie to come back, etc.). All it all, save for the awesomeness of the film, it was a pretty reprehensible experience. Which sucks.
Oh well, right? Not really. I'm still a little pissed, and rightfully so, right?
Oh, update: I'm esteemed frère has just informed me that per his sources, there was at least a half an hour left. So, let's readjust our fractions: 9/10ths, which is, you know, not too much, has now become 4/5ths, which is, um, redonkulous? Yeah, that's it. Re-freakin'-donkulous.
Ugh. Ugh times 5, hours, of my life, practically wasted.
Ugh times 17, dollars, which is what I spent to see the darned thing on the IMAX screen.
Ugh a million times over.
I'm done here. No one spoil the end. I may see it today. Who knows. Still, I can really say wholeheartedly that this is the best superhero flick I've ever seen, bar none. Spider-man 2 ain't got nothin' on this sucka. Nor Iron Man. Nor X-Men 2. None of 'em. Not even close. See why I'm pissed?
Yeah, I know... Talk about poor timing. I get up for a 3:10am showing of quite possibly the most anticipated film of the year, only to have the finale cut short by some sort of "power failure" on the part of the IMAX projector that so deliciously entertained me for about two hours. Not only did I have to sit in line for 2 and a half hours, outside, surrounded by drunks and stoners, but we then had to sit in the theatre and wait for the freakin' thing to start for an extra half an hour (at least, I think it was that long). Finally, the film began, and boy did it begin. Full IMAX glory, bank robbery scene. Seen it before, but it was a good refresher. Anyway, the movie rocked. Or, at least 9/10ths of it rocked. I'm pretty sure the last bit was awesome too, but I cannot judge until I see it. We got free tickets, of course, but no refund (the line to get one was super long). Honestly, two tickets would have sufficed.
Anyway, that's the short story. A lot more tomfoolery went down (drunken beach ball poppers, drunk screamers, someone lighting up a blunt while we waited for the movie to come back, etc.). All it all, save for the awesomeness of the film, it was a pretty reprehensible experience. Which sucks.
Oh well, right? Not really. I'm still a little pissed, and rightfully so, right?
Oh, update: I'm esteemed frère has just informed me that per his sources, there was at least a half an hour left. So, let's readjust our fractions: 9/10ths, which is, you know, not too much, has now become 4/5ths, which is, um, redonkulous? Yeah, that's it. Re-freakin'-donkulous.
Ugh. Ugh times 5, hours, of my life, practically wasted.
Ugh times 17, dollars, which is what I spent to see the darned thing on the IMAX screen.
Ugh a million times over.
I'm done here. No one spoil the end. I may see it today. Who knows. Still, I can really say wholeheartedly that this is the best superhero flick I've ever seen, bar none. Spider-man 2 ain't got nothin' on this sucka. Nor Iron Man. Nor X-Men 2. None of 'em. Not even close. See why I'm pissed?
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