Is It Still Vidding?

Is it still vidding if one is actually watching a dvd? Eh, who cares?

Recently watched two movies: Because I Said So and Music and Lyrics.

Because I Said So was a serious disappointment. While I wasn't necessarily expecting to be bowled over, I didn't expect to be so actively and aggressively turned off by the characters. Diane Keaton is far too effective as the interfering mother, and Mandy Moore is too much of a useless pillow for the comedy to be appreciated. The situation just isn't funny, admittedly perhaps because the shoes fit too well. Tom Everet Scott, so likable in That Thing You Do, is neither sufficiently evil nor sufficiently desirable for his role. Seriously, what's wrong with being wealthy and urbane? Sure. Gabriel Macht's character is the stereotypical perfect knight errant, but his turnaround is hardly credible, more wish fulfillment. About the only thing I enjoyed was the history that Stephen Collins and Diane Keaton bring, and that's not the responsibility of the script writers, who absolutely suck. I hate when a good cast is discovered in a really bad or badly butchered final cut of a movie.

, on the other hand, was actually better than I expected, probably because I watched it with such low expectations. While I love Hugh Grant movies in general, Drew Barrymore's work often leaves me cold. I tend to find her performances puerile and too old school, as in overacted. This time around, however, she was fairly well restrained, almost to the point of being comatose. She needs to strike that happy medium silly, as soon as she catches up with him...) Hugh Grant was a lovely parody of an 80s has-been. He does seem to have been taking pleasure in shaking his hips on-screen since they first got loose in Bridget Jones' Diary. The biggest problem with this film, I think, was the insipidity of the song on which the protagonists work throughout the film. Ah well... Kinda like Studio 60, the product under examination (show and song) is not up to the caliber of the vehicle in which it is discussed. Ah well...

Gotta find me something good to watch.

Did see Jim Carrey's The Majestic on television yesterday, which is a movie I dearly love. The mistaken identity is handled beautifully, with assumptions nicely balanced against inherent honesty on both personal and public scales. Now that's a script worth writing, reading, and producing. I'm just grateful someone did all three.

Tail

Some dumb blonde, too old to qualify as a bimbette, too flat to be categorized as a bimbo, felt an evidently irresistible urge to tailgate me this morning as we passed through a school zone. She didn't even have the excuse of being preoccupied by a cell phone conversation to explain (not justify) her attitude. Perhaps she had a hard morning getting out of her house. Perhaps someone else had been pushing her around recently. We still each of us have the ability to choose consciously whether or not we allow inertia to pass through us and on to others.

Harumph!

The incident did have the positive effect of reminding me that I actually prefer to drive alone and in silence. There's a meditative aspect to driving that way that actually causes me to be a trifle resentful when I have a chatty cathy in my vehicle, much as I also take pleasure in the insanity of a road trip with convivial companions.

Breathing Lessons

One of the many homepages I have set up has daily lessons on esoteric topics. Today it wants to teach me how to breathe. More precisely, it provides instructions in the execution of exercises designed to expand lung capacity. That's all well and good, I'm sure, but as I have spent much of my life attempting to breathe less deeply in order to avoid certain inevitable odors that shared living spaces make inevitable, the suggestions seem counterintuitive. The final flurry of suggestions includes joining and participating in a marching band as the player of a wind or brass instrument. Unfortunately, the opportunity for such an activity seems to be past for such a one as I. Ah well... Playing trumpet always did leave me feeling light-headed and winded anyway...

Gotta Go

One more summer, and then I must go. I think I'll close down these blogs when I do, for I do not anticipate having either time or easy access. It has been fun, but now, I fear, I must be done.

Rough Out There

Traffic's rough out there today. Another semi has flipped over, though this time no bridge or overpass has been destroyed, even though another truck was taken down in the flipping. Should we feel grateful that there was merely a traffic snarl for half the working day? Should we wonder that there have been major traffic jams on three separate primary arteries this morning? Can there be any correlation or is it all just coincidence?

A couple of years ago I would have hypothesized that the drivers here just aren't used to so much sunlight, and that may still be true for some, but surely there are other, better explanations for such widespread poor driving.

- A local story broke yesterday regarding the bribing of student workers to change grades at a respected community college. Have workers at the Department of Motor Vehicles been similarly tempted?

- Now that the days are lengthening, are people being tempted to stay up later, get up earlier, and thus suffer from increased sleep deprivation as they continue to drive longer and longer commutes to jobs that pay well enough for them to participate in the lifestyle to which they wish their children to become accustomed? (Good luck navigating that sentence.)

- Now that colleges and high schools are in full swing in the graduation season, are those celebrations spilling over into the roadways with late night party-goers mixing with early morning commuters?

- Or is this all a consequence of a well-coordinated conspiracy, to be milked for maximum political gain?

Whatever the reason(s), traffic is rough out there.

Drive safely. Ride safely. Arrive safely.

Adjectival Differentiation

Yesterday's news kept featuring this teaser about an article out of Chicago addressing the advancement of pornography into mainstream American society over the past thirty years. Both television and several Internet news sources featured the lead prominently amongst their leads. Ultimately, it became a story I could not avoid reading.

One question that struck me as I read was the difference between sexiness and blatant sex. That's a line that seems to have become blurred in the minds of many young women in particular, (not that it was ever really clear to everyone). When I was growing up in sex-repressed America, sexiness was easy to identify. It everything to do with titillation and the tease. Today sex seems to be served up on a platter as an appetizer-free entree. Where, pray tell, is the appeal? I know very few people who enjoy a meal without either an appetizer or a dessert. Even tv dinners included both, paltry though they were.

Without the tease, there can be no sexiness, only a kind of sordidness that may or may not satisfy one party, but surely not two, and is not the act of sex intended as a duet that is at its best when all participants are satisfied?

Danger Will Robinson

Danger, danger, everywhere I turn. Today the FDA in its infinite wisdom has posted a warning against any and all toothpaste manufactured in China. Earlier this year Peter Pan peanut butter and its generic Wal-Mart counterpart, products of the fine U.S. state of Georgia, were recalled. Prior to that and since then there have been ongoing recalls of domestic pet foods containing tainted ingredients, all ostensibly originating in China, though many brands were processed in Canada. I guess it wasn't enough that our food supplies have been undergoing genetic engineering; now good old fashioned foods are being tainted as well. It's enough to put a person off food and to restart the whole anorexia nervosa and anorexia bulimia trends, which should make those warring against obesity happy enough. Is it any wonder that some people can get so very obsessed with the subject of consumption?

Of course, ignoring the topic doesn't seem very intelligent either. After all, willful consumption of materials with the potential to rot the brain or simply kill seems foolish in the extreme. Remember ignorance? Now there was a blissful time. People grew food, cooked, ate, lived, and died. It was all a cosmic cycle, all part of a Great Design. Now there are so many masters of their own destinies that there's a veritable traffic jam of life as people try to navigate uncharted waters following neon billboards filled with pop wisdom in lieu of trusted road maps, the latter of which have fallen into disrepute and therefore by the wayside).

Ah, come on, give me a chance - I know I can fit another cliche in there somewhere.

The National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) is now addressing the language of teens: text messaging. In the same newsletter is noted the fact that Shakespeare and other classics of literature are getting less class time as teachers shift curriculum emphases in a desperate attempt to stay relevant. So not only is the next generation receiving validation for the new forms of communication they are creating, they are also being denied exposure to older ideas, thus guaranteeing a newer, wider generation gap, in addition to the cultural, economic, and educational gaps duly noted within contemporary American society.

I'm just saying...

S3 Revisited

Been thinking about Shrek as a trilogy since Sunday evening, which is interesting in itself, since I would have thought that Pirates offered more food for thought - or not. Ogres, after all, are like onions...

Just had to watch the original Shrek when I came home, partly because of the movie critic who stayed up late, then didn't much like what he saw. As I rewatched the first installment, I was forcibly reminded of just how awesome and inventive it was and still is. The original is a throwback to the early days of animation when all sorts of social and political commentary was slipped in for attentive adults, much like the original fairytales and folktales. Those were razor-edged tales, meant to give offense in return for offenses that had been taken by the writers. Such tales were later watered down and sanitized in order to please the masses and offend as few folk as possible, defanging them, if you will. (The same has been done to virtually all creative manifestations of rebellion, the most recent example of which is the co-opting of rap music.) But I digress, as usual...

The first Shrek was a classic love story coupled with commentary on self-esteem and self-confidence, even as it mocked the classic conventions. The second installment continued the development of the protagonist's self-image and extended the lesson to include trusting in the power of love. There were lovely riffs on in-law relations as the characters moved from the single life to wedded bliss. This third episode continues the original ideas of self-esteem and self-confidence, though this time the focus moves away from a fairytale character, albeit to one who has achieved animation stardom. It's a bit of a rehash, even as it reflects the passing of the baton from one generation to the next, arguably a new idea for this vehicle.

I've always liked all the allusions slipping in and out of the Shrek movies, but I have to agree that this third turn is only almost as delightful as its predecessors. Maybe I just don't like the whole high school scene, or maybe Charming just doesn't hold his own as a villain for me. I do like the idea of laughing him off as a good way to deal with him, but somehow that left him a little more than short of oomph.

Still, I like the idea that Lord Farquaard was short, Fiona's father was a frog prince, and Cousin Arthur was once a boy nicknamed "Wart", at least according to T.H. White. There's a certain symmetry to it all...

Still thinking...

Movie Madness

Ah, I do enjoy turning a doubleheader! This morning started out bright and early, or foggy but early, as the case may be. Be that as it may, though it started slowly, this has been a good weekend for watching movies.

First up was Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End. Now, I'll be the first to confess that I lack the visual acuity of virtually everyone I know, including the blind dog down the street, but I do have an eye and ear for inside jokes and casual allusions, as well as an appreciation of character development and narrative geometry. My overall impression of PotC3, then, is that a relatively slow start eventually picked up speed and actually did a beautiful job of bringing many seemingly casual bits full circle through the trilogy. I particularly love the use of language and vocabulary as part of characterization and sly digs. Visually, there were some awe-inspiring moments and an amazing attention to detail. Some might suggest that the narrative detail provided was more than the pacing could handle, but I don't see the need for everything to be a headlong rush, except that that is what we as audience have been conditioned to expect from any Bruckheimer production.

Next on the docket was Shrek the Third. Offhand I'd guess that the target audience for ST3 is actually perhaps five years older than that of PotC3. The latter is, after all, still courtship, whereas the latter is post-marriage mentoring in preparation parenthood. In each film the older though still youthful mentor gives way for the next generation, sacrificing glory and the limelight for the greater good. In each case the honor is dubious: becoming the immortal captain of the Flying Dutchman vs. becoming the high profile ruler of the fairytale land of Far Far Away. The difference, of course, is that Jack Sparrow yields reluctantly whereas Shrek actively seeks to sidestep the honor. It's actually kind of fun to think of the parallels as Mike Myers vs. Johnny Depp and Justin Timberlake vs. Orlando Bloom. For the females, of course, Keira Knightley is the clear winner over Cameron Diaz in terms of significance to the plot and in screen time. As far as characters go, Fiona is delivered of three babies, a numerical triumph over Elizabeth's one child. Mathematically, Fiona produces in one round the most Elizabeth will be able to produce, ever, given that she only gets one swiving per decade. Kinda daunting, that thought... Still, both films were fun romps, each in their own way.

A third film that has recently come my way is another Chow Yen Fat vehicle: The Curse of the Golden Flower, a historical drama set in the Tang dynasty that inspects and dissects the black corruption concealed beneath the opulent facades of the royal court. Gong Li is as gorgeous as the rest of the scenery. Chow Yen Fat, in contrast, is such a dark and villainous looking fellow beneath his makeup that it took me awhile to recognize him. Together they epitomize the point of the narrative. The narrative skein is as intricate and complex as the chrysanthemums woven by the royal ladies, and as multi-layered. You want corruption, this film has it: infidelity, incest, bribery, betrayals, polygamy, poisonings, plots within plots within plots. I only wish I could understand more of the Chinese being spoken, as that always adds yet another layer to the subtitled films I watch.

More, I want to see more.

Toast the Roast

What's the good of a fun title about which one has nothing to say? Hm...

This is, in fact, the converse of the old adage, "Out of the frying pan into the fire," for this is out of the fire and into the frying pan, as it were:

The pleasure of slow roasting a shoulder of pork butt in an outdoor smoker can be enhanced by adding the shredded pork to a pan of sake-simmered cabbage and grated ginger, thus making kalua and cabbage, an island favorite. The toasting part involves including the shredded pork in the frying pan for a quick round or two of stirring and simmering. When corn tortillas are toasted in the emptied pan, the flavor is stretched even further, leading to a gastronomic pleasure that must be experienced to be properly understood.

Of course, it was under the influence of this dish that I took my recent trip, but there is no cause and effect connection here, merely coincidence.


Because everything is connected, I cannot help but notice that the trips I have been taking home are very much along the order of toasting the roast. There is the long, slow heat that has been applied over the past several years; the smoke that is frequently thrown in various eyes, obscuring facts and perpetuating fictions,; and the fact that unless things get straightened out before it is too late, someone's going to be toast, possibly a couple of us. Auwe!