Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Out out brief Replicant
From Blade Runner:
I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I've watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.From Macbeth:
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrowCan there be anything more tragically beautiful than Shakespearean nihilism? Charlie Kaufman tries his hand at Shakespearean nihilism in Synecdoche, New York. Go check it out.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Blade Runner: 2/5
My beef with Ridley Scott's Blade Runner:
1. The Characters. I did not connect to any single character. Not Deckard, not Roy Batty, not Tyrell, not even Rachael. Nor did I care for Roy Batty's arc. "Look! Even our genetically engineered pets aren't as horrible and destructive as we are!" That kind of theme ranks right up there with "You know, communism works on paper" in terms of originality and freshness. I don't even want to engage that line of thought. To me, the characters are the most important part of the story, and they fail to do anything for me here.
2. The Music. The music in Blade Runner hasn't aged very well, imho. The synthesizers instantly tell me the movie is stuck permanently in the 1980s. I don't hold that against Scott (how could he have known how quickly synthesizers would go out of vogue?), but it really interfered with my suspension of disbelief. Are you trying to tell me that in 2019, we have gone full circle and are back into synth pop? Maybe we will be, but watching the movie in 2010, I couldn't help but realize I was watching a movie made in 1982.
3. The Visuals. I don't care for cyberpunk. I know a lot of people love it, but it just isn't my cup of tea. I can't say much more about that.
My tea with Ridley Scott's Blade Runner:
1. It's right in the sweet spot at 117 minutes long.
2. I appreciate the contemplation on morality throughout.
1. The Characters. I did not connect to any single character. Not Deckard, not Roy Batty, not Tyrell, not even Rachael. Nor did I care for Roy Batty's arc. "Look! Even our genetically engineered pets aren't as horrible and destructive as we are!" That kind of theme ranks right up there with "You know, communism works on paper" in terms of originality and freshness. I don't even want to engage that line of thought. To me, the characters are the most important part of the story, and they fail to do anything for me here.
2. The Music. The music in Blade Runner hasn't aged very well, imho. The synthesizers instantly tell me the movie is stuck permanently in the 1980s. I don't hold that against Scott (how could he have known how quickly synthesizers would go out of vogue?), but it really interfered with my suspension of disbelief. Are you trying to tell me that in 2019, we have gone full circle and are back into synth pop? Maybe we will be, but watching the movie in 2010, I couldn't help but realize I was watching a movie made in 1982.
3. The Visuals. I don't care for cyberpunk. I know a lot of people love it, but it just isn't my cup of tea. I can't say much more about that.
My tea with Ridley Scott's Blade Runner:
1. It's right in the sweet spot at 117 minutes long.
2. I appreciate the contemplation on morality throughout.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Less Is More
So today I'm reading about movies, as I tend to do a lot these days, and I stumble across this:
[Orson] Welles would have loved [The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford], were it not for it being over his two hour maximum comfort zone[.]It seems Mr. Welles and I have something in common (other than mastering deep focus cinematography and the low-angle shot). As I (too) frequently tell The Missus, there is a spectrum to movie running times:
- Less than 90 minutes: something terrible happened to cut the movie short (e.g., the creators didn't realize the idea wouldn't pan out until way too late in the process). They feel like TV episodes run too long. Classic example: The Ex (89 minutes). When I see a less-than-90 running time, I expect holes and dissatisfaction.
- 90 to 120 minutes: the sweet spot, especially in the 100-110 zone. These movies are long enough to develop storylines and characters but still short enough to watch repeatedly. Classic example: The Graduate (105 minutes). When I see a 90-to-120 running time, I get excited about watching a director who understands less is more.
- 120 to 150 minutes: you're pushing it. Every minute past 120 better be important. The creators are on the verge of author appeal. But, if done right, those extra minutes don't feel extra. Classic example: The Empire Strikes Back (124 minutes). When I see a 120-to-150 running time, I check the director. If it's Quentin Tarantino, OK. Anybody else, I am pre-planning a bathroom break.
- 150 minutes to infinity: 9 times out of 10, the director has gone too far. The movie ceased being about communicating with the audience and started being about the director "expressing himself or herself"---only the audience doesn't know it. By the time the movie ends, almost any kind of tacked on ending will seem amazing because the audience has put so much effort and time into watching it. But when you sit back later and talk it out, the truth comes out. (See, e.g., Stephen King's It.) Classic example: Avatar. When I see a 150-plus running time, I put it back on the shelf until I have an entire afternoon free.
Listen, directors, if it's too long for Orson Welles, it's too long for me. Do like the Coen Brothers (average running time of 107.2 minutes, ranging from 94 (Raising Arizona) to 122 (No Country for Old Men---their only 2-hour-plus-er)), and not like James Cameron (average running time of 140.1 minutes, ranging from 94 (Piranha II---the only one less than a hundred and one of only two less than two hours) to 194 (Titanic)). A friend of mine likes The Godfather. I like The Godfather, too, but I refuse to watch it again. I don't have that much free time.
Who really wants to sit still for 2 hours and 55 minutes?
Mirrors freak me out
Since it's mid-July and time to start ramping up the scary movies, I spent an hour and a half this weekend watching Oren Peli's Paranormal Activity. And---I can't lie---I spent another hour and a half tossing in bed trying to escape my nightmare. The movie slithered into my subconscious, exploited a random nightmare I had in fourth grade, and held me in its grip for about half a day (until I fell back asleep and had a nightmare that I got way too deep into the drug industry).
I prefer my scary movies to slip just a little bit inside my head. I'm not really scared of people, so movies that use people as the main scare (e.g., Saw, The Silence of the Lambs, Hostel) may be entertaining, but they don't scare me. I prefer my scares with a hint of the supernatural.
My favorite scary movie ever is The Exorcist. It's creepy at parts, frightening at others, and satisfying in the end. I also like The Shining, but I don't find it very scary. But for the scariest movie ever? For the movie that stuck with me for days and weeks afterward, not letting me sleep? For the movie that found a fissure in the dam of my subconscious and turned that moon into a space station?
The Ring. The American version. Yep. I'm lame. In my defense, you have to admit that the washed out colors, the girl whose face hides behind a curtain of straight black hair, and---most importantly to me---the shot where the woman looks into the mirror and there's no effin camera. Oh and the end? When she takes the fly off the TV screen? F r e a k y. If Paranormal Activity scared me for 12 hours, The Ring scared me for 12 weeks. Like I said: fissure in the dam of my subconscious.
I prefer my scary movies to slip just a little bit inside my head. I'm not really scared of people, so movies that use people as the main scare (e.g., Saw, The Silence of the Lambs, Hostel) may be entertaining, but they don't scare me. I prefer my scares with a hint of the supernatural.
My favorite scary movie ever is The Exorcist. It's creepy at parts, frightening at others, and satisfying in the end. I also like The Shining, but I don't find it very scary. But for the scariest movie ever? For the movie that stuck with me for days and weeks afterward, not letting me sleep? For the movie that found a fissure in the dam of my subconscious and turned that moon into a space station?
The Ring. The American version. Yep. I'm lame. In my defense, you have to admit that the washed out colors, the girl whose face hides behind a curtain of straight black hair, and---most importantly to me---the shot where the woman looks into the mirror and there's no effin camera. Oh and the end? When she takes the fly off the TV screen? F r e a k y. If Paranormal Activity scared me for 12 hours, The Ring scared me for 12 weeks. Like I said: fissure in the dam of my subconscious.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
In Defense of The Seven Year Itch
Three questions.
1. Is The Seven Year Itch an exercise in wish-fulfillment fantasy or a character study of thesix-months seven-years-later phenomenon? It seems to me that the driving question is not whether Richard will get together with The Girl but whether Richard will remain true to Helen. As evidence, I point to his jealousy when he finds out Helen went on a hayride with Tom MacKenzie. I further point to the fact that all his fitful wandering begins from the point when he imagines Helen laughing off his claims that he appeals to other women. This isn't a story about boy-meets-girl, this is a story about boy-figuring-out-how-to-stay-true-when-the-excitement-of-boy-meets-girl-has-worn-off.
And don't compare it to the play. The film and the play are two separate pieces of art. Take each for what it's worth.
2. Is Richard Sherman a wandering husband or a lost child finding his way into adulthood? Given his powerful imagination and his ineptness at wooing The Girl, I tend toward the latter.
3. Is The Girl an innocent, dumb blonde or a conniving seductress? I point to the major plot point of her kissing him on the lips and telling him not to wipe away the lipstick: "If she thinks that's cranberry sauce, tell her she's got cherry pits in her head." What she doesn't say, but we hear nonetheless, is, "And if she thinks you've been kissing other girls and asks for a divorce, I'll be upstairs all summer."
Watch the film again, ask yourself these three questions, and let me know what you conclude.
1. Is The Seven Year Itch an exercise in wish-fulfillment fantasy or a character study of the
And don't compare it to the play. The film and the play are two separate pieces of art. Take each for what it's worth.
2. Is Richard Sherman a wandering husband or a lost child finding his way into adulthood? Given his powerful imagination and his ineptness at wooing The Girl, I tend toward the latter.
3. Is The Girl an innocent, dumb blonde or a conniving seductress? I point to the major plot point of her kissing him on the lips and telling him not to wipe away the lipstick: "If she thinks that's cranberry sauce, tell her she's got cherry pits in her head." What she doesn't say, but we hear nonetheless, is, "And if she thinks you've been kissing other girls and asks for a divorce, I'll be upstairs all summer."
Watch the film again, ask yourself these three questions, and let me know what you conclude.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
The Seven Year Itch: 4/5
So I have this pet peeve about people using well-known phrases ignorantly. Here is just another example:
Long live Marilyn Monroe!I'm just sayin.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Invictus: 4/5
***SPOILER ALERT***
First, the important characters are not flat. People think that since Morgan Freeman was (finally) cast as Nelson Mandela that he must be the main character. Or maybe it's Matt Damon---he's a big name. People are wrong on both points. The main character in the story is the people of South Africa. The motivating question isn't whether Mandela and Pienaar will accomplish their goal, but whether the South African people can figure out how to get along. Just think about how much time we spend watching nameless characters develop trust in each other. Think about the security guards who start off hating each other and end up playing rugby together. Or think about the poor kid who starts off refusing a free Springbok t-shirt and ends up listening to the game on the radio with two white men he doesn't know. South Africa wanted to figure out how to live as a nation, and the 1995 Rugby World Cup gave them a glimpse of national unity.
Second, Invictus heavily features a sport, but the game is used to show it's impact on the characters. If I wanted to watch a rugby match, I could have found one on TV. Instead, I wanted to watch a series of characters go through an ordeal and come out on the other side. This movie did exactly that. The most important aspect of the game is its impact on the important characters (i.e., South Africa). That's why Eastwood doesn't tell us how rugby works; that's why he only cuts to the game clock once; and that's why the winning points are scored with "minutes" to go in extra time. The movie isn't about the game or its players; it's about the spectators.
I think the best compliment you can give a director on seeing a movie is to say that it makes you want to watch more of his or her stuff. This is the third Clint Eastwood-directed film I've seen (fourth, if you count Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, which I don't, because I was high on Novocaine after having my wisdom teeth removed). Changeling didn't do it for me, but Gran Torino is one of those movies I keep thinking about. I think Invictus will be more like Gran Torino than Changeling. And I also think I'm going to watch some more of his stuff.
Starting with Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
The Matrix: 4/5
"There is no spoon." Keanu Reeves really should have said that about a dozen times in The Matrix. How great would it have been if, after Agent Smith empties a clip in Neo, Neo opens his eyes, looks Agent Smith in the eye, and quoth, "There is no spoon." Crowning moment of awesome!!
I first saw The Matrix almost ten years ago. I had been told how it was awesome, mind-bending, spectacular, and all the other meaningless adjectives we use. "Dude. It is sooooo crazy. It. Will. Change. Your. Life." Unfortunately for my expectations, I had just finished reading a bit of Descartes for school; the idea that we might be living in The Matrix was something I had just gotten through processing. (I applaud the Wachowskis for introducing a generation of young men to the philosophical dilemma of reality without making it a boring exercise in linguistics.) When I watched it today, I wasn't looking for mind-bending awesomeness; I was actually watching to hone up for potentially forthcoming philosophical debates.*
*Wittgenstein cured me of the desire to understand and explore ontology one fine Saturday afternoon, but I seem to be the only dab of paint who has given up on trying to see the painting. Still, everyone else seems to care about it, seems not to be conversant in Cartesian philosophy, and seems to be conversant in the philosophy of The Matrix. When in Rome and all that.
And in the process of philosophical edification, I got caught up in the story. How will Neo figure out whether he is The One? And what will that mean? How will Neo save Morpheus? How will Agent Smith be thwarted? By what miracle will the bad guys get what's coming? That, my friends, is good storytelling.
And this time, it gave me pause, asking a more interesting philosophical question than that of ontology: What is my place in the Universe? Am I Thomas Anderson---someone special for whom the rules don't really apply---or am I the homeless guy at the subway station---just another (expendable) brick in the wall? To go one step further: Who decides?
I first saw The Matrix almost ten years ago. I had been told how it was awesome, mind-bending, spectacular, and all the other meaningless adjectives we use. "Dude. It is sooooo crazy. It. Will. Change. Your. Life." Unfortunately for my expectations, I had just finished reading a bit of Descartes for school; the idea that we might be living in The Matrix was something I had just gotten through processing. (I applaud the Wachowskis for introducing a generation of young men to the philosophical dilemma of reality without making it a boring exercise in linguistics.) When I watched it today, I wasn't looking for mind-bending awesomeness; I was actually watching to hone up for potentially forthcoming philosophical debates.*
*Wittgenstein cured me of the desire to understand and explore ontology one fine Saturday afternoon, but I seem to be the only dab of paint who has given up on trying to see the painting. Still, everyone else seems to care about it, seems not to be conversant in Cartesian philosophy, and seems to be conversant in the philosophy of The Matrix. When in Rome and all that.
And in the process of philosophical edification, I got caught up in the story. How will Neo figure out whether he is The One? And what will that mean? How will Neo save Morpheus? How will Agent Smith be thwarted? By what miracle will the bad guys get what's coming? That, my friends, is good storytelling.
And this time, it gave me pause, asking a more interesting philosophical question than that of ontology: What is my place in the Universe? Am I Thomas Anderson---someone special for whom the rules don't really apply---or am I the homeless guy at the subway station---just another (expendable) brick in the wall? To go one step further: Who decides?
How exciting!
The Lakers and Celtics are in the NBA Finals for the first twelfth time ever! I was a little surprised that they've only met in the Finals twelve times. Between them, they have 32 championships (out of 64 total), and I was under the impression they had met every year in the 1960s and 1980s. I guess I was wrong.
Side note to American sports: this is a bad year for the home team. The Yankees are reigning champions of MLB, Duke reigns in college basketball, and now the Lakers or Celtics will reign in the NBA. Is it any wonder the NFL is America's most popular league?
I wash my hands of this.
Side note to American sports: this is a bad year for the home team. The Yankees are reigning champions of MLB, Duke reigns in college basketball, and now the Lakers or Celtics will reign in the NBA. Is it any wonder the NFL is America's most popular league?
I wash my hands of this.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
NBA Playoffs: Part Trois
By the way, these playoffs are lame. I'm no longer really interested in who wins or loses. Brief picks:
Celtics beat Magic in 5. Lakers beat Suns in 4. Celtics beat Lakers in 6.
Because sometimes the NBA sucks.
Celtics beat Magic in 5. Lakers beat Suns in 4. Celtics beat Lakers in 6.
Because sometimes the NBA sucks.
Sunday, May 02, 2010
NBA Playoffs: Part Deux
The first round is over, and the second round is just beginning. How'd I do? Let's see:
Right-o
Right-o
- EC-1 Cleveland Cavaliers beat EC-8 Chicago Bulls in 5 - This was actually a lot closer than I think anybody expected. I think we all expected a sweep.
- EC-2 Orlando Magic beat EC-7 Charlotte Bobcats in 4 - This was actually a lot less close than I think we all expected. The Magic pulled out the only sweep in the First Round.
- WC-7 San Antonio Spurs beat WC-2 Dallas Mavericks in 6 - This was one "upset" I think about 2/3 of people predicted. Good games with good results.
- WC-5 Utah Jazz beat WC-4 Denver Nuggets in 6 - Hate to say I told you sooooooo---aight.
Wrong-o
- WC-1 Floss Angeles Lakers beat WC-8 Oklahoma City Thunder in 6 - Who can stop the purple machine??
- EC-3 Atlanta Hawks beat EC-6 Milwaukee Bucks in 7 - Just add another log to the fire of Milwaukee's hatred of Atlanta. This series was a lot closer than I expected.
- WC-3 Phoenix Suns beat WC-6 Portland Trail Blazers in 6 - I love watching the Suns lose. This was a disappointing series for me.
- EC-4 Boston Celtics beat EC-5 Miami Heat in 5 - Who saw this coming? Not me. I'm not saying the Celtics are back; I'm saying the Heat never showed up (except in Game 4).
So by my count, I am sitting even at 4-4. Biggest surprises: Celtics beating the Heat and Bucks taking Atlanta to Game 7.
Modified Predictions
- WC-1 Haymakers v. WC-5 Jazz - Rematch from last year's First Round. I like how the Jazz have been paying, and I hate the Rakers, so you know my vote. Jazz in 6.
- EC-1 Cavs v. EC-4 Celtics - These Celtics are old. Both teams won their first round in 5 games, but the Cavaliers seemed less hesitant. I pick the Cavs in 5.
- WC-3 Suns v. WC-7 Spurs - I'm hoping for a replay of 2008's first round, complete with a Tim Duncan three and everything. But the Suns have given us some heck this year, winning the season series 2-1. I still pick the Spurs in 6.
- EC-2 Magic v. EC-3 Hawks - This is a good old-fashioned regional rivalry (or should be). Maybe this round will make it one. I doubt it, though. The Magic were the only team to sweep in the first round, and the Hawks were the only team to go 7 games. The Magic also won 3 of the 4 regular season matchups. So . . . Magic in 5.
Random Notes
First, the lowest ranked team at this stage is the Spurs at # 7. It's not so much that their beating the Mavs was an upset as it is that the Western Conference is just a very even playing field right now.
Second, speaking of even playing fields, the Western Conference First Round featured two "upsets" (the Jazz were the other), while the Eastern Conference First Round went straight by seeding. It seems there are two powers in the East, and it's not the two from the early 1960s.
Third, all four of this year's pairings are (or should be) storied rivalries.
- Lakers-Jazz: these two teams are geographically close enough and culturally opposite enough that they should be (and probably are) a great rivalry. Two historically strong West Coast teams like this? I like it.
- Cavs-Celtics: I don't know anything about this, but apparently the Cavs and Celtics have hated each other since the 1960s. If they haven't, oh well.
- Spurs-Suns: I'm not an authority, but I know that there are three teams I love to watch lose more than any other: the Lakers, the Mavericks, and the Suns. To me, that spells good rivalry.
- Magic-Hawks: These two teams are close geographically, share a division, and while the Magic have dominated for a couple of years, the Hawks are historically the strongest team in this division.
So these could be a few good series. I'll update in a week or so.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Match Point: 4/5
***SPOILER ALERT***
The basic plot of Woody Allen's Match Point can be summarized thusly:
It's not a particularly original story, but no story really is. Many critics and viewers love or hate this movie based on the plot and its twists and tricks. The plot is interesting, and the idea is interesting (even if not original), but the originality, and the quality, of Match Point lies in its execution.
Poetry is more than rhyming words. Poetry uses the rhythms of speech to express a meaning deeper and more profound than the denotations and connotations of the words themselves. Similarly, a film is more than moving pictures with a sound track. A film uses the power of images, the power of sound, and the combined power of both to tell us something more profound than the plotpoints.
Let me give you an example. For about the first 2/3 of Match Point, Nola wears spikey heels and sexy outfits while Chloe wears ballet flats and "cute" outfits. The last time we see Nola, however, she is wearing low, almost kitten-style, heels and a knee-length, flared skirt. The point: Nola has lost the sexual sway she held over Chris.*
*I'm not trying to say that kitten heels and a knee-length skirt can't be sexy (though I despise kitten heels). I'm just trying to say that they connote much less sexually than do spikey heels and a tight or short skirt.
Similarly, in almost every scene with the whole family, Chris is apart somehow. In one scene, he literally stands in a different room. In another, he merely stands a few feet apart from a close quasi-group hug. And in one of my favorites, he is physically in the group, but, while everybody else is wearing white, he is wearing black. He is there, but he is not; he is a part of the family, but we know it is only because he makes Chloe happy.
Which may explain one of the most important idea in the movie. In one scene, Chris is about to tell Chloe about his relationship with Nola. He gets as far as admitting that he feels guilty, but can't go any further, can't give any details. She accuses him of infidelity, but he denies it. He turns the conversation to their travails getting pregnant. Fast forward to the haunting penultimate scene: Chris tells the ghost of Nola, "I didn't know if I could do it. It was hard. But when the moment came, I could pull the trigger." Put the two scenes together, and you have a striking juxtaposition: We had been led to believe Chris loved Nola more than Chloe, but he could only "pull the trigger" with Nola. It was easier for him to kill Nola than to break Chloe's heart.
Which makes it a difficult question: Does he love Chloe too much to hurt her feelings, or does he love his comfortable life so much that he would kill to keep it?
The basic plot of Woody Allen's Match Point can be summarized thusly:
- Chris Wilton wants to have it all: a comfortable life and passionate love.
- So Chris marries into a super-rich London family and cuckolds his brother-in-law.
- But you can't always get what everything you want, and Chris picks the comfortable life.
It's not a particularly original story, but no story really is. Many critics and viewers love or hate this movie based on the plot and its twists and tricks. The plot is interesting, and the idea is interesting (even if not original), but the originality, and the quality, of Match Point lies in its execution.
Poetry is more than rhyming words. Poetry uses the rhythms of speech to express a meaning deeper and more profound than the denotations and connotations of the words themselves. Similarly, a film is more than moving pictures with a sound track. A film uses the power of images, the power of sound, and the combined power of both to tell us something more profound than the plotpoints.
Let me give you an example. For about the first 2/3 of Match Point, Nola wears spikey heels and sexy outfits while Chloe wears ballet flats and "cute" outfits. The last time we see Nola, however, she is wearing low, almost kitten-style, heels and a knee-length, flared skirt. The point: Nola has lost the sexual sway she held over Chris.*
*I'm not trying to say that kitten heels and a knee-length skirt can't be sexy (though I despise kitten heels). I'm just trying to say that they connote much less sexually than do spikey heels and a tight or short skirt.
Similarly, in almost every scene with the whole family, Chris is apart somehow. In one scene, he literally stands in a different room. In another, he merely stands a few feet apart from a close quasi-group hug. And in one of my favorites, he is physically in the group, but, while everybody else is wearing white, he is wearing black. He is there, but he is not; he is a part of the family, but we know it is only because he makes Chloe happy.
Which may explain one of the most important idea in the movie. In one scene, Chris is about to tell Chloe about his relationship with Nola. He gets as far as admitting that he feels guilty, but can't go any further, can't give any details. She accuses him of infidelity, but he denies it. He turns the conversation to their travails getting pregnant. Fast forward to the haunting penultimate scene: Chris tells the ghost of Nola, "I didn't know if I could do it. It was hard. But when the moment came, I could pull the trigger." Put the two scenes together, and you have a striking juxtaposition: We had been led to believe Chris loved Nola more than Chloe, but he could only "pull the trigger" with Nola. It was easier for him to kill Nola than to break Chloe's heart.
Which makes it a difficult question: Does he love Chloe too much to hurt her feelings, or does he love his comfortable life so much that he would kill to keep it?
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Story within a story
Paul Mariani's sentence from The Broken Tower: A Life of Hart Crane does a great job telling the story with its structure:
The natural way we read a sentence, our (inner) voice goes up and up all the way to the comma after "along," then our voice starts falling. Try reading it again but imagining that the comma after "along" is a period. You will find a very interesting effect.
In the poem -- one he had the good sense finally to abandon -- he pictured himself as a blind moth raised among butterflies, which for a brief moment had found itself rising upward into the empyrean to behold "Great horizons and systems and shores all along," only to find its wings crumpling and itself falling -- like Icarus -- back to earth.
The natural way we read a sentence, our (inner) voice goes up and up all the way to the comma after "along," then our voice starts falling. Try reading it again but imagining that the comma after "along" is a period. You will find a very interesting effect.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
It's that time again! The time for me to wow you with my fantastically accurate sports playoffs picks.* What playoff picks? The NBA Playoff Picks!! Woo!! We got next!!
*I think I scored a cool 12/64 in March Madness.
How do I make my picks? I have a very strict process. First, I look at their overall records. Then, I go with my gut.
Alright. Let's get started.
The Cavs are the NBA's winningest team this year, racking up 61 wins. (That's 5 fewer than last year, but still second-best in team history.) The Bulls fought tooth and nail to pull 41 wins and make sure everybody still playing is at least .500.* So the Cavs have got a 20-game advantage.
*For the sake of my own interest, I find it interesting that if the playoff teams were chosen from the whole Association and not just the conferences, Houston would be in and Chicago out.
What does my gut tell me? The Bulls hang tough, but the Cavs will eliminate them. I think it might take 6 or 7 games.
We all know that the Thunder are on a roll* and the Lakers are on a stroll. Was that just because the Thunder were trying to make the playoffs and the Makers were bored? I don't know. I just know the Nakers finished up with a best-in-the-West 57 wins and the Thunder crossed the finish line with a meager 50 wins, good only for 4th in the Northwest.
*C'mon . . . gimme credit gimme credit. That's a good one.
So I style this series: Kobe v. Kevin. And I pick Kevin. Because I hate the Bakers. I call a sweep.
The Magic only got 59 wins . . . because they lost to Los Spurs. The Bobcats set a franchise record with 44 wins. Defense wins championships, so why do we have two of the three best defenses going at it in the first round? Because life sucks. And as much as I want the Michaelcats to beat the Magic, I'm eventually going to predict a black-on-black championship, so I have to pick the NBA's 4th best offense over its 24th best.
*I think I scored a cool 12/64 in March Madness.
How do I make my picks? I have a very strict process. First, I look at their overall records. Then, I go with my gut.
Alright. Let's get started.
First Round
EC-1 Cleveland Cavaliers v. EC-8 Chicago Bulls
The Cavs are the NBA's winningest team this year, racking up 61 wins. (That's 5 fewer than last year, but still second-best in team history.) The Bulls fought tooth and nail to pull 41 wins and make sure everybody still playing is at least .500.* So the Cavs have got a 20-game advantage.
*For the sake of my own interest, I find it interesting that if the playoff teams were chosen from the whole Association and not just the conferences, Houston would be in and Chicago out.
What does my gut tell me? The Bulls hang tough, but the Cavs will eliminate them. I think it might take 6 or 7 games.
WC-1 Los Angeles Clippers v. WC-8 Oklahoma City Thunder
We all know that the Thunder are on a roll* and the Lakers are on a stroll. Was that just because the Thunder were trying to make the playoffs and the Makers were bored? I don't know. I just know the Nakers finished up with a best-in-the-West 57 wins and the Thunder crossed the finish line with a meager 50 wins, good only for 4th in the Northwest.
*C'mon . . . gimme credit gimme credit. That's a good one.
So I style this series: Kobe v. Kevin. And I pick Kevin. Because I hate the Bakers. I call a sweep.
EC-2 Orlando Magic v. EC-7 Charlotte Bobcats
The Magic only got 59 wins . . . because they lost to Los Spurs. The Bobcats set a franchise record with 44 wins. Defense wins championships, so why do we have two of the three best defenses going at it in the first round? Because life sucks. And as much as I want the Michaelcats to beat the Magic, I'm eventually going to predict a black-on-black championship, so I have to pick the NBA's 4th best offense over its 24th best.
WC-2 Dallas Mavericks v. WC-7 San Antonio Spurs
I read recently that the Mavericks are one of only two teams to beat the Spurs in the postseason in like 106 years.* So there's that. And there's the Mavericks' 55 times being ahead at the buzzer compared to the Spurs' 50 dominating and merciless vanquishings. More importantly, there's last night.
*The other is the Pittsburgh Condors.
Seriously, objectively. The Spurs had more Pythagorean wins (55.2 to 48.7) and win the SRS matchup, 5.07 to 2.67. The Spurs have the NBA's 9th best offense, just ahead of the Mavericks' 10th best offense (110.0 to 109.2, if you're counting). The Spurs have the 2d-best defense in the West (3/4 of a point behind the Flakers), and the Mavericks are 12th (overall, 5th in the West), nearly two whole points behind (104.5 to 106.3). But the Mavericks were 4th-best in attendance, compared to the Spurs' 10th (819,770 to 741,676). So there's that.
Anything can happen in 7 games, but I'm picking Los Spurs because it's my blog.
EC-3 Atlanta Hawks v. EC-6 Milwaukee Bucks
The City of Milwaukee has every reason to hate the City of Atlanta. So the 53-29 Hawks better keep their eyes peeled* when the 46-36 Bucks gallop into town. I have a feeling Brandon Jennings is better than whatever the Hawks have got. Last year, the Hawks were my team in the East, but this year, I'm pulling for the Bucks.
*Pealed? Pilled?
WC-3 Phoenix Suns v. WC-6 Portland Trail Blazers
So the Suns think they're all that, setting* on a 54-28 season during which the Trail Blazers only found their way to an even steven 50. Still, the Blazers have got heart, even if the Suns have got sol**, and I hate the Suns almost as much as I hate the Mavericks and the Cakers. I love watching the Suns lose.
*You know you like that one.
**I am freakin' awesome!!
EC-4 Boston Celtics v. EC-5 Miami Heat
The Celtics have limped into the playoffs. Dwayne Wade The Heat have limped into the playoffs. I mean, really, what's the difference between 50-32* and 47-35? I dislike Vince Carter and Stan Van Gundy, so I'm picking the Heat.
*First, does anybody else remember Rasheed saying they'd win 70 this year? And second, did anybody else notice that the Celtics had the worst record among division winners? The Jazz were next, at 53-29.
WC-4 Denver Nuggets v. WC-5 Utah Jazz
I gotta say, I like the Jazz this year. Continentaling in with 53 wins to slip past the Blazers and tie the Nuggets. I'm feeling the music this year. I'm not feeling the rocks.
Conference Semifinals
I hope that wasn't too confusing about who won each round. Maybe this will help: snapshot predictions for the rest of the playoffs.
EC-1 Cleveland Cavaliers v. EC-5 Miami Heat. Remember last year, when the Cavs beat the Hawks beat the Heat? I fear it'll happen again. Cavs in 5.
WC-8 Oklahoma City Thunder v. WC-5 Utah Jazz. Tough call. These teams are both doing really well and really aren't that far apart in the standings. But I think I like Malone & Stockton more than Kemp & Schrempf. Jazz in 7.
EC-2 Orlando Magic v. EC-6 Milwaukee Bucks. Brandon Jennings is good, but he's not that good. I hate Vince Carter, but he might pull this one off. Magic in 5.
WC-7 San Antonio Spurs v. WC-6 Portland Trail Blazers. Do you really have to ask? Pythagorean wins: Spurs, 55.2 to 50.6. SRS: Spurs, 5.07 to 3.18. Offensive rating: Trail Blazers, 110.8 to 110.0. Defensive rating: Spurs, 104.5 to 107.1. Season series: Trail Blazers, 3-0. It looks like matchups might be a problem, but you already know whom I favor.
Conference Finals
EC-1 Cleveland Cavaliers v. EC-2 Orlando Magic. Ho hum. Rematch of last year, when the Magic pulled 4 wins out of a 6-game hat. This year, they split the season series, the Magic have 2.2 more Pythagorean wins, almost a full point higher SRS, and play 0.2 points better on offense and nearly a point better on defense. It kinda sounds like Dwight will put the hurt on Shaq. And maybe quicker than last year's 6 games.
WC-5 Utah Jazz v. WC-7 San Antonio Spurs. Let's be objective. Pythagorean wins: Jazz by 0.3. SRS: Jazz by 0.26. Offense: Jazz by 0.7. Defense: Spurs by 0.5. And the Jazz swept the season series.*
*Very interesting thought I just had: the Jazz may be the objectively best team in the West.
But I said a long time ago I wanted a black-on-black finals, and the Jazz's colors are purple and green.
NBA Finals
EC-2 Orlando Magic v. WC-7 San Antonio Spurs. This will be the defensive matchup David Stern's been dreaming of. I predict scores like 67-53, 81-80/3OT, and 36-14. We'll probably forget what championship we're watching.
But this, my friends, is where amazing happens.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Passengers: 2/5
As part of my quest to see all of Anne Hathaway's* movies, I watched Rodrigo Garcia's Passengers last night. It had a neat---but poorly executed---premise. Extremely well acted, rather well written, very poorly put together.
*All the most beautiful actresses are brown-eyed brunettes.
Ms. Hathaway plays Claire Summers (the name sounds meaningful but isn't), a therapist (who is either seeking a Ph.D. or already has one) trying to help the survivors of a plane crash deal with their guilt. There's a twist, but I won't ruin it for you because the movie depends so heavily on it.* Basically, it's a confusing 92 minutes that are supposed to be cleared up in the last 3.
*I read a great article recently about how it's the How of a story and not the If that keeps us coming back, but I can't seem to find it. Something to think about when you're writing your next graphic novel.
And that's fine. It worked for Shyamalan and countless others, so I don't begrudge Garcia going for it. I do, however, begrudge the poor editing. It's a bit like a brilliant philosopher who finds the meaning of life but can't put a sentence together in a meaningful way. No matter how brilliant he or his ideas are, I'll spend so much time figuring out the trees that I'll miss the forest.
I don't want to lambast Thom Noble too much, but he's been doing this since 1966. He ought to know that when I see two people talking in a car followed by a cut to what looks and sounds like a car driving on a street, I expect it to be the same car. Or that I need some kind of visual clue about where I'm at (i.e., is this Claire's apartment or Shannon's or Eric's?). Or that I get really confused when Shot 1---a daylight shot of one character saying to another "Hey, come check this out"---cuts to Shot 2, a nighttime shot of the same two characters getting on a motorcycle. Is the motorcycle what she was supposed to check out? Or is the director keeping something hidden from us?
It's not that my expectations ought to rule the movie. Instead, when little expectations---like a noun coming at the beginning of a sentence---aren't met, I have to stop and think about what's being said. I have to translate the visual sentence into something meaningful. I spent so much of this movie translating the trees that I would have missed the forest if Garcia hadn't burned the whole thing down in a Shyamalanian bonfire.
And I felt played at the end. What began as a mystery thriller turned into a paranormal thriller in the last act before phasing into a family drama for the epilogue. I'm just saying.
*All the most beautiful actresses are brown-eyed brunettes.
Ms. Hathaway plays Claire Summers (the name sounds meaningful but isn't), a therapist (who is either seeking a Ph.D. or already has one) trying to help the survivors of a plane crash deal with their guilt. There's a twist, but I won't ruin it for you because the movie depends so heavily on it.* Basically, it's a confusing 92 minutes that are supposed to be cleared up in the last 3.
*I read a great article recently about how it's the How of a story and not the If that keeps us coming back, but I can't seem to find it. Something to think about when you're writing your next graphic novel.
And that's fine. It worked for Shyamalan and countless others, so I don't begrudge Garcia going for it. I do, however, begrudge the poor editing. It's a bit like a brilliant philosopher who finds the meaning of life but can't put a sentence together in a meaningful way. No matter how brilliant he or his ideas are, I'll spend so much time figuring out the trees that I'll miss the forest.
I don't want to lambast Thom Noble too much, but he's been doing this since 1966. He ought to know that when I see two people talking in a car followed by a cut to what looks and sounds like a car driving on a street, I expect it to be the same car. Or that I need some kind of visual clue about where I'm at (i.e., is this Claire's apartment or Shannon's or Eric's?). Or that I get really confused when Shot 1---a daylight shot of one character saying to another "Hey, come check this out"---cuts to Shot 2, a nighttime shot of the same two characters getting on a motorcycle. Is the motorcycle what she was supposed to check out? Or is the director keeping something hidden from us?
It's not that my expectations ought to rule the movie. Instead, when little expectations---like a noun coming at the beginning of a sentence---aren't met, I have to stop and think about what's being said. I have to translate the visual sentence into something meaningful. I spent so much of this movie translating the trees that I would have missed the forest if Garcia hadn't burned the whole thing down in a Shyamalanian bonfire.
And I felt played at the end. What began as a mystery thriller turned into a paranormal thriller in the last act before phasing into a family drama for the epilogue. I'm just saying.
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
Definitely Penny's Boat
One of the greatest challenges of filmmaking must be casting. Whoever picked these two deserves an award.
Just look at the way they share a boat seat.
All I know is that every time those two are together on screen, it reminds me how lucky I am that The Universe didn't conspire to keep me and The Missus apart.
Just look at the way they share a boat seat.
All I know is that every time those two are together on screen, it reminds me how lucky I am that The Universe didn't conspire to keep me and The Missus apart.
Saturday, April 03, 2010
I have
This is, quite possibly, my favorite commercial ever.
If you can find a better one, drop a comment.
If you can find a better one, drop a comment.
Friday, April 02, 2010
It Was HIs Sled
SPOILER ALERT
Jekyll is Hyde. Norman did it. I see dead people.
When I first read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I already knew the twist. Since then, I've re-read it at least twice and watched several film adaptations.
When I first saw Psycho, I already knew the twist. Since then, I've watched it a few times, and I'm actually watching it right now. (Dadgummit, Arbogast, don't go up the stairs.) I asked for (and got) the DVD for my birthday.
When I first saw The Sixth Sense, I already knew the twist. I watched it to see the little tricks Shyamalan pulled to keep the twist secret. I haven't sat down and watched it since.
Another weird pattern. I enjoy each Stevenson book as its own piece of art. I enjoy each Hitchcock film as its own piece of art. But I watch each Shyamalan movie hoping to recapture the magic of The Sixth Sense.*
*For my money, The Village came closest.
Jekyll is Hyde. Norman did it. I see dead people.
When I first read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I already knew the twist. Since then, I've re-read it at least twice and watched several film adaptations.
When I first saw Psycho, I already knew the twist. Since then, I've watched it a few times, and I'm actually watching it right now. (Dadgummit, Arbogast, don't go up the stairs.) I asked for (and got) the DVD for my birthday.
When I first saw The Sixth Sense, I already knew the twist. I watched it to see the little tricks Shyamalan pulled to keep the twist secret. I haven't sat down and watched it since.
Another weird pattern. I enjoy each Stevenson book as its own piece of art. I enjoy each Hitchcock film as its own piece of art. But I watch each Shyamalan movie hoping to recapture the magic of The Sixth Sense.*
*For my money, The Village came closest.
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