The Importance of Punk Part 1

The general populace of this country has a nasty habit of self-medication. But in this case I'm not referring to pain relievers and narcotics. I mean people have a habit of turning their brains off and sliding into a state of comfortable numbness. Life is stressful, so the most restful thing a person can do sometimes is turn of their brain. But many people refuse to snap out of that cozy veil; they choose to live with their brains set on snooze. And that is something that mainstream media is all to happy to help with.


Whether it be film, TV, or music, most branches of media are full of meaningless drivel. They just work to keep your mind in a state of sedation. The clearest example of this is in action is the standard Hollywood style of editing. That is to say Hollywood works to keep everything flowing smoothly and not cause the audience to question anything. For example, if a man was to walk into a store, it would show him walking through the door from the outside and then cut to the inside of the store to show him complete his entrance. Everything in the Hollywood style of editing makes visual sense, so the audience winds up shifting their brains to idle. And as I've said in other posts, that's when dangerous things can be slipped into the subconscious.

So, considering the towering mountain of media that's trying to abuse us, I've come to respect those branches that aren't. And near the top of that list is punk rock. Sure, the anti-establishment lyrics giving the man the middle finger found in the genre are nice, but that alone does not an awakening make. After all, if the lyrics are just the opposite of what is found in mainstream music, then that's playing the same game but for the other team. What is necessary is to change the style of the music; not just the substance. And punk rock also delivers in this.

Breaking away from the soupy guitar soloists found in the early 70s, John Holmstrom, the founding editor of Punk magazine, said punk rock was seen as the genre for musicians that weren't very talented but still felt the need to express themselves through music. This resulted in a shift from the very orchestrated music at the time to a more raw, frenetic style.


This uprising of untrained musicians perfectly embodies the Do-It-Yourself ethic that is at the heart of punk. And it is that DIY ethic that truly fights back against the mainstream media. Instead of allowing those who are trained in the field to do a job for you, you rise to the occasion and take action yourself. After all, with a little bit of know how and effort, what's to stop you from doing as good of a job, if not better? Most of the public loves the idea of having others do stuff for them, which is exactly why businesses like fast food chains do so well. It's quick and easy and there's no fuss. But as a result, you clog some arteries, raise your cholesterol and blood pressure, and, well, generally become less healthy.  And that's exactly what I think most of mainstream media does to your mind.

So, over the course of the next few weeks I'm going to be highlighting and thanking a director, a TV show creator and a musician for their work in pushing forward the DIY ethic and trying to free our minds of the filth so many others try to jam in there. So, stay tuned!

Top Five Wrestler Movies

Well, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson has a new movie coming out soon. In it, he plays a Tooth Fairy. The movie is called "Tooth Fairy." This reminds me of something: Professional wrestlers have a habit of embarrassing themselves when they cross the line from sports entertainment to film. Steve Austin, John Cena and Kane all had films that were shown on the silver screen and bombed, and a handful of others had been in straight-to-DVD releases (surely nothing to be too proud of). Despite all the failures, wrestlers keep coming back for more. But really? The Rock as the Tooth Fairy. That's too much.

However, not all wrestlers have been doomed in the realm of film. Actually, some of them have been in truly good movies, and that's what should be remembered. So please, ignore "Tooth Fairy" and just keep in mind the following films.

5. "Ready to Rumble" (2000) Alright, when I said that some wrestlers were in truly good movies, this was not one I was thinking of. It is, however, funny, and that's better than nothing. It centers around two huge WCW fans who believe wrestling is real, so when their favorite wrestler, Jimmy King, gets thrown out of the business, they make it their quest to put him back on top. Never refraining from making a joke about wrestling fans or the business alike, this film hit close to home for me. I was one of those rabid fans who would get wrapped up in wrestling's artificial world. But as opposed to being offended, I was able to relate to many of the jokes and that made the entire experience that much richer. Considering its premise, you know it has to feature a hefty amount of wrestlers. Most prominently, though, you'll notice Diamond Dallas Page as the film's antagonist.  He did a decent job playing a jerk, but that hardly stretches a person's acting limitations.

   

4. "Southland Tales" (2007) Despite his upcoming film, Dwayne Johnson is one of the better wrestler / actors out there. "The Rundown" was a fine action film, and he was pretty funny in "Be Cool." But when it comes to his best film, and also his best role, "Southland Tales takes the cake. Directed by the man who did "Donnie Darko," "Southland Tales" is a Philip K. Dick book on hallucinogens. The original cut screened at Cannes was seen as so incoherent and rambling that it was almost universally hated by the audience. The re-cut version, though, is amazing. To attempt to sum it up in one sentence, the movie is about the end of the world. Of course, if the movie was as simple as that it wouldn't be very interesting. In fact, the movie focuses on the impending energy crisis, the government impeding civil liberties to maintain security, the evolution of reality television and a dozen other themes. Johnson stars in it as Boxer Santaros, an amnesiac action star whose role in the end of times is of the utmost importance. Still, as much as I like Johnson in this movie, Justin Timberlake stole the show for me.


3. "The Princess Bride" (1987) While I have problems with this movie as far as Princess Buttercup is concerned, the rest of it is fantastic. The land of fantasy portrayed in the film is pretty middle of the road, but that doesn't matter thanks to the amazing characters written in every scene. The stalwart Westley, the honorable Inigo, the maniacal Vizzini and treacherous Prince Humperdinck make the movie as great as it is. Perhaps obviously, the wrestler in this movie is Fezzik, played by Andre the Giant. His penchant for rhyming and overall gentleness helped him find a way into viewers' hearts, and I think it's safe to say that without Andre, this movie wouldn't be quite the same.


2. "Predator" (1987) This movie is something of an oddity. Not one, but two of the actors in this film went on to become governors. Of course, there is Arnold Schwarzenegger who has been running California since Gray Davis was kicked out. But secondly is Jesse Ventura, a former wrestler with the WWF, who went on to govern Minnesota. Known as Jesse "The Body" Ventura, he never accomplished much in the world of wrestling beyond being a great color commentator, but I suppose his political achievements make up for that. In "Predator" he plays Blaine, a musclebound man with a minigun. Next to the Colonel Miles Quaritch in "Avatar," Blaine is one of the biggest badasses in film history all thanks to one line. Perhaps in some cinematic timeline the two characters are actually related to each other. One can only dream.


1. "They Live" (1988) John Carpenter is a director that has managed to garner my affection in a way that not many others have. I mean, he's that man to bring us "Halloween," "Escape from New York," "The Thing" and "Big Trouble in Little China." How can I not love the guy? Especially when he also made "They Live." Possibly my favorite meld of science fiction and social critique, "They Live" delivers an interesting view of our world. In it, aliens have furtively placed themselves in our society disguised as the elite and powerful. In this position, they've began planting humans' minds with subliminal messages of "Obey" and "This Is Your God" in our advertisements and entertainment. The aliens also encouraged the expenditure of fossil fuels because pumping carbon dioxide and methane makes our atmosphere more like theirs, therefore more habitable. The hero to lead the charge against these aliens is George Nada, played by "Rowdy" Roddy Piper. With a pair of special sunglasses he can see the aliens for what they really are and help stop them. Possibly the most famous of the movie's scenes is one of the best / worst fights ever filmed.  But beyond that, Piper does a great job as the hero, and will be remembered in sci-fi film history.


It really shouldn't be surprising that professional wrestlers can be good actors. What they do on a weekly basis is live drama with fairly complicated choreography. Sure, I don't expect Dwayne Johnson to take home an Oscar any time soon, but just because a wrestler is featured in a movie I don't think it should automatically be considered trash. And, perhaps in time, others will join me in this open-mindedness. But movies like "Tooth Fairy" sure aren't helping the cause.  

From the Hut

There aren't a lot of celebrities that I look up to. Most of them are fine enough, but not many actually do anything worthy of admiration. Jason Statham, for example, seems like an awesome guy but beyond starring in kickass action flicks, what worth does he have? Haitian-American musician Wyclef Jean, though, is somebody I can respect.

A 7.3 earthquake hit Haiti on Tuesday, followed by two strong aftershocks. This seismic occurrence was the largest the island has experienced in 200 years. Its destruction was so immense that the presidential palace, the house of parliament and a myriad of other government buildings all collapsed in Port-au-Prince, a city of 2 million people. This isn't even mentioning the mass destruction that people in the rest of Haiti experienced. In total, the Red Cross believes that as many as 3 million people were affected by this natural disaster.

Today saw Jean returning to his homeland to help where he can. As Jean said, "I cannot stress enough what a human disaster this is, and idle hands will only make this tragedy worse. The over 2 million people in Port-au-Prince tonight face catastrophe alone. We must act now." And beyond his immediate physical return to Haiti, he was quick to set up means of donation to help combat the wreckage through texting and yele.org.  

And while I respect Jean's actions during this sad time, he's had my admiration long before now. Showing that he hasn't forgotten where he came from, Jean has been running the Yele Haiti Foundation since 2005. This organization has been helping feed hungry women and children, providing scholarships to thousands of Haitian students, and creating employment opportunities that help support agricultural production. Jean said, "Our mission is to create small-scale, manageable and replicable projects to contribute to Haiti’s long-term progress." With an 80 percent unemployment rate, restoring Haiti was quite the feat for Jean before the earthquake but now seems like one of the labours of Hercules. But through his passion, Jean continues on.

This pride in his homeland has existed through Jean's work, starting from his first solo effort The Carnival. The last three songs on the 1997 album are sung in Haitian Creole, and the 2004 Welcome to Haiti: Creole 101 was performed completely in the language. Most artists in the American hip-hop market would be too nervous to do something so different, but Jean embraced it. He's true to himself and to his culture.

And now he's in Haiti, trying to help rebuild a country that nature tried to snuff out. If everybody in the world had a tenth of his passion, Earth would be an amazing place. 

You can donate to help Haiti in their time of need here.  

Lilith or Eve?

Megan Fox, generally speaking, strikes me as an anti-feminist. She's nothing more than a brunette Barbie. I mean, imagine her on the set of either of the "Transformers" movies. Michael Bay's directions probably didn't expand beyond, "Megan, baby, arch your back more. Really push out those breasts. Great, now trying running slower and...bouncier." The entire last half of "Transformers: Rise of the Fallen" was her running toward the camera in slow-mo, with the camera of course centered on her massive mammaries. With roles like that, how can I not question her position on gender equality? But after watching "Jennifer's Body" I'm beginning to suspect that there's a hidden layer to Ms. Fox.

"Jennifer's Body," written by "Juno" scribe Diablo Cody, is the story of the popular girl at school. You know the one I'm talking about. The one who won't give you the light of day unless she feels she can use you for something. It's about her (played by Megan Fox) and her plain-Jane friend Needy (not her real name, but considering even her boyfriend calls her that, it's what I'll call her, too), and a night gone wrong. 

They live in a small town called Devil's Kettle and decide to drive out to a country bar to see visiting indie band Low Shoulder. Jennifer's plan is to hook up with the lead singer. Unfortunately, the bar catches fire, killing many of the occupants and ruining the show. After barely escaping with their lives, Needy and Jennifer are offered a ride by Low Shoulder in their spooky van. Jennifer being in shock from the trauma agrees to go with them, leaving Needy by herself. The problem is that the band planned on sacrificing Jennifer to Satan in order to gain musical success. As the lead singer, Nikolai, says, "Do you know how hard it is to make it as an indie band these days? There are so many of us, and we're all so cute and it's like if you don't get on Letterman or some retarded soundtrack, you're screwed, okay? Satan is our only hope." 

Things didn't go as planned, though. The ritual required a virgin, which Jennifer was not. As a result, Low Shoulder got their wish, but Jennifer's body was possessed by a boy-hungry demon. So, she goes on a sort of killing spree (a spree involving only four victims) until Needy catches on and stops her. 

Here's my reading of the film, though. Jennifer represents a woman in tune with her sexuality. She is in control of her own sexual nature, and the world is in balance. Low Shoulder, on the other hand represents men. Not just "men" per se, but men who wish to exploit women's sexuality for their own goals. In real life this happens constantly. Just look at most TV shows, commercials, movies and video games. Big busted women are everywhere because the people in power (generally men) know it will earn them money. Likewise, Low Shoulder wanted to be famous musicians. So they used her and tossed her aside when she had nothing else to give them.



However, men tainted the sexually confident woman. Thanks to their efforts, Jennifer was transformed into the lustful man-eater that mothers warn their boys about instead of the relatively harmless sexual entity she once was. This causes Needy, who represents the more stereotypical feminists, to turn on her and eventually kill her. This equates to the death of women being able to use their sexuality and remain feminists (a view often taken by naive junior feminists). Men caused women to turn on each other, but Needy never forgot Low Shoulder's role in the matter. The movie ends with Needy getting revenge on the band for making her turn on her best friend.


This movie, and Megan Fox in general, reminds me of Atom Egoyan's "Exotica." The film is centered on a stripper, and even though she is on stage dancing for men, she's put in the position of power. She takes their money. They can't touch her. She's in control. That's kind of how I see Megan Fox now. And all this reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend about the Wonderbra. The product isn't inherently feministic or anti-feministic; it's all about how it's used. I think the same thing can be said about sexuality. After all, Megan Fox is probably a millionaire by now thanks to the dollars spent by drooling males. 

Now, I'm not saying I like Megan Fox. I'm not saying that she is in fact a good feminist, or even a feminist at all. I'm simply stating that this movie complicates my view of her and caused me to rethink some things. Still, if there's another "Transformers" film I'm going to vomit.   

We Opened the Box

When I first saw a trailer for "Avatar," I had no idea what I saw. Not because it blew me away but because I literally didn't know what I just watched. There was so little information I couldn't put anything together. And then the hype-storm hit. Everywhere I went people began talking up James Cameron's newest movie. Somebody in one of my film classes said it was going to revolutionize films. That seemed like a stretch, but you never know. So, the movie finally hit theatres and people began raving about it. Once I realized it didn't suffocate on its own hype I got excited. I finally watched it (twice now), and it didn't disappoint.

I had a lot of friends who fell in love with the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. With each movie clocking in at more than three hours and being full of walking, I wasn't as impressed. However, even I can admit that they were epic on a scale not often seen in film. The massive battles, colossal towers and in-depth lore all made the movies what they were. "Avatar" is the first movie since that I can say captures that kind of tremendous feeling. The build up throughout the first two-thirds of the movie established characters we actually cared about and a plot that was actually interesting, and in the third act all hell broke loose. Infantry wearing robotic battle suits fought hammer-nosed rhinos. Helicopters and bombers were in dog fights against dragon-looking beasts. It was magnificent.

And it shouldn't be overlooked that the movie had underlying ideologies. There was the whole "global warming" and "humans are destroying Earth" message, which while I whole-heartedly agree with, I am getting a little bored of it. I guess Hollywood will just keep sending the same message until we listen, though. At least "Avatar" sent the message in a more articulate way than M. Night Shyamalan did in "The Happening." Most of the argument is visible by the films usage of props. The marines in the film need face masks in order to go outside on the alien planet Pandora. This serves as a literal as well as a metaphoric symbol for how we humans aren't capable of adapting to live in an untarnished ecosystem. The main villain, who I will talk about later, tries to muscle his way into the world without protection from time to time, but he always ends up needing a mask to breathe. This is the weakness of humans. And that's not to mention that our species is constantly in search of some unobtainable substance and are willing to destroy whatever it takes to get it.


But, the unspoken theme I appreciate more in "Avatar" was the questioning of identity. The main character, Jake Sully, was enlisted in the avatar program because his twin brother who was already a part of the program had been killed. Since they were twins and avatars were gene-specific, Jake was the only person who could operate the avatar. So, when Jake plugs into his avatar, it's not even his, really. It's his brother's. And when he is plugged into the avatar, where is Jake Sully? Is he in the bed with his eyes closed, or is he in the avatar running through the forest?

But by far, my favorite part of "Avatar" is the main antagonist, Colonel Miles Quaritch. This man is the epitome of all things masculine, human and American. I'm betting he snorts whiskey and opens beer bottles with his eye socket. The is a true testament to his manliness: at one point during the film his shoulder catches fire, and he doesn't care. He doesn't do a thing about it. Then, a couple of minutes later he remembers that a part of him is burning and puts it out. He doesn't extinguish the flame because he's in pain; he does it because the flame annoyed him. Also, when he realized Jake was working with the aliens, he was so angry that he chartered a helicopter to take him miles away to the scientists' camp, kicked in the door, unplugged Jake while he was connected to the avatar, punched him in the face and left. If I ever get to the point where I am willing to travel 50 miles just to punch somebody, and my anger remains present throughout the entire trip, then my life will be complete. 


So while I wouldn't call "Avatar" revolutionary in terms of narrative design (many people have commented on how the story is just a rehashing of other films, such as Disney's "Pocahontas"), I do think it was one hell of an experience. It didn't change me as a person, or give me a better outlook on life, but it kept me entertained for three hours, and really, that's a feat all on its own. 

A Small Victory

I give the Disney princesses a lot of grief. Whenever I want an example of how movies affect people I usually list a movie like "Sleeping Beauty" or "Snow" White" and talk about how they encourage passivity in little girls. With the exception of "Beauty and the Beast" I can't think of a single princess film that supports feminism (I would count "Enchanted" but Disney refuses to put Giselle in the category of other princesses because they don't want to pay royalties to Amy Adams for using her likeness). So, my curiosity was piqued when "The Princess and the Frog" was released in all of its hand-drawn glory. I wanted to know if this was a princess movie that would break the pattern of passivity. 

In short, the answer is yes. There was never a time where she slept waiting for somebody to rescue her, nor was there ever a time where her voice was taken away so that she could be seen as human. She was an active, determined, strong-minded woman throughout the film. 

The story of Tiana is as follows (there'll probably be spoilers). When she was a little girl growing up in New Orleans, she and her father had a dream of opening a restaurant together. However, he was called into duty for WWI and never made it back. Tiana kept the dream alive, though, and worked two jobs and sacrificed her personal life in order to save the money necessary to start her business. When she first meets the prince, she doesn't even care about him. 

But due to the direction of the plot, she and the prince wind up in a mess together when they're transformed into frogs. They go on a journey together to the one person who could change them back while helping each other out on the way. There are times when the prince rescues Tiana, but there are times when Tiana rescues the prince. You have to keep in mind that feminism isn't women having power over men; it's about equality between the sexes. This movie showed that.

And when Tiana and the prince fall in love, it doesn't revolve around the prince choosing her a la "Cinderella." In fact, they almost don't get together. The prince was going to propose to Tiana, but she seemingly only cared about her restaurant. So, the prince was going to marry another woman to get the money Tiana needed. Tiana realized how much she actually cared for the prince, so even though it meant sacrificing her restaurant and staying as frogs, Tiana choose to be with the prince instead. Of course, though, everything ends happily ever after with them both becoming human again and Tiana getting her restaurant.

But while I feel as though I can appreciate this movie for its feminist qualities, it's less than stellar in other fields. There wasn't a single memorable song throughout the film, although there were many songs. Too many songs, in fact. I was so interested in the story that whenever a mediocre song began I got frustrated. Actually I began to sing more memorable songs in my head just to liven things up. And, more importantly, it lacked any kind of meaningful commentary on race or culture. Sure, it showed that Tiana grew up poor and that she was treated differently at times, but it failed to create any kind of argument. Still, I suppose it's better than previous Disney films.

And I'd be remiss if I left out the best part of the movie: the art direction. In one scene, the art work transforms from the classical Disney style to that of an expressionistic poster without flaw. And the vibrant neon colors used throughout helped to capture a magical ambiance. The side characters were all likable enough with my favorite being the trumpet playing alligator Louie. And the villain, voiced by Keith David, was intimidating although less so than other Disney villains. The fact he was voiced by Keith David was 80 percent of the character's scare factor.

So, there you have it. A Disney princess movie that had an active woman lead for the first time since 1991. I am happy about that, but I'd be lying if I wasn't let down by it's failures. In the world of race relations, Disney has a lot to make up for.  

Right to Power

For those of you who aren't in the know, there was a clandestine superhero group in Marvel comics called the Illuminati that banded together to make decisions regarding the world's future. This group was made up of Reed Richards, Namor, Tony Stark, Professor X, Black Bolt and Dr. Strange. Together they felt as though they had a representative of each of Earth's main demographics. For example, Dr. Strange represented the world of magic, Namor the people of the oceans, Professor X mutantkind, etc. Nobody on the planet knew they created this team, not even their other teammates. 


The group only came together when there was a massive threat looming in Earth's near future. In one adventure Reed Richards had the team assemble so they could gather the Infinity Gems. When placed in the Infinity Gauntlet, these gems have the power to destroy time, space, reality and consciousness. There have been several universe-wide adventures in Marvel's history where all of the heroes on Earth would try to defeat anybody who gathered the gems. But the Illuminati felt as though it was a good idea to bring the gems together to make them easier to protect. And as a result they almost destroyed time, space, reality and consciousness.



Beside the arrogance of their plan, it just felt dirty to me. Who were they to decide the fate of the planet and, at times, the universe? I have enough of a problem trusting regular superheroes let alone superheroes who are keeping their comrades in the dark. The Civil War saga showed us the extent to which superheroes can make mistakes, so where is my incentive to entrust them?  The general answer is typically something to the effect that they know what's best for us, but that isn't exactly satisfying.



The "Watchmen" graphic novel also dealt with this problem. Ozymandias, a superhero, killed millions of people in order to save billions. To do this, he gave the world a common enemy to band together against, and as a result there was a feeling of unity across the globe. But again, what gives him the right to do that? Rorschach's answer was that nothing gave him the right, and that's why he was going to tell the press. And that's why he got exploded by Dr. Manhattan. But while Rorschach may be in pieces, the question he represented still remains.


I think I have finally found the answer I was looking for. Thomas Hobbes argued that without a government controlling its people, the lives of men and women would be "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short." That's why he argued for a powerful, Leviathan-like monarchy. And in the world of Watchmen, and even present day real life, the planet is a world community. The geographic distances that separate us are now meaningless. MacLuhan's global village is almost upon us. So, without a powerful world government controlling its people, it was just a matter of time until chaos broke out (a nuclear holocaust was the likely outcome in Watchmen). So, who better to become the Leviathan than superheroes? 


Anybody who believes in utilitarianism (the ends justify the means) would agree that the actions taken by Ozymandias and his co-conspirators was the right thing to do. After all, a billion lives are more valuable than a million lives. And in order to do what they did, the heroes had to make some ethical decisions. Whether their choices were moral or not doesn't matter because they are the ruling class. They are the monarchy. Rorschach was a rebel who questioned their power, so he had to be done away with.


And, essentially, I believe this argument works for the Illuminati in the Marvel universe. They only flex their Leviathan power when the entire world is at stake, not just when the U.S. or New York city is in trouble. And most every other superhero from Spider-man to Luke Cage can be seen as the Leviathan of a microcosm in the world. 



Sometimes I wonder if humans are as bad as Hobbes believed. Rousseau didn't think so. His entire belief in the social contract depended on it. But when I look at the daily news and see what goes on in the world, I join Hobbes. People, generally, are terrible. Maybe we need a Leviathan to rule us.

Top Five Favorite Films of 2009

If you were to gauge the quality of a year's movies by their financial success, I would say that 2009 did pretty good. During the summer there were blockbusters like "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" and "The Hangover" (those two movies together grossed nearly $1.3 billion). And the winter yielded "The Twilight Saga: New Moon" which has earned well over half of a billion dollars since its release less than a month ago. However, I'm not the type of guy to judge the year's movies that way. I take overall quality as the most important factor. I'm kind of weird that way.


Like most years, I did not get to see every movie I wanted to. I missed Sam Rockwell's "Moon" as well as "The Men Who Stare at Goats" to name a couple. And, of course, there are still movies coming out later this year such as "Sherlock Holmes" that I am eagerly awaiting. But one movie isn't worth postponing my list. So, here is the list of my top five favorite movies of 2009 (of the ones I got to see, anyway):

5. "The Hurt Locker" I typically don't like war movies. The genre seems stale to me, and most of the time it's just a way for Americans to relieve their glory days from WWII. However, "Hurt Locker" is not an ordinary war movie. This film follows the deployment of an Explosive Ordnance Disposal unit in Iraq with the focus being on Jeremy Renner's character, William James. Not only does the movie concentrate on a team that is often overlooked in times of war, but James is a different type of war hero. He doesn't rush into danger to save the day, and he doesn't give eloquent speeches. What he does is disarm bombs, and he does it because it's the only thing he knows he loves (or is it the adrenaline fix that he loves?). Now, I don't agree with all of the ideologies present in the film, but I can't deny good acting when I see it, and Renner's performance was better than most actors' who take home Oscars.


4. "Coraline" I'm tired of children's movies handling their audience with kid gloves. Kids can take a lot more than we usually give them credit for, and filling their brains with nauseating princess stories just works to dumb them down. With that said, "Coraline" is the type of children's movie that children actually deserve. It deals with dark subject matter (I'll remain vague to not spoil anything) but manages to keep a child-like feeling over the entire film. It's like a true, present-day Grimm's Fairy Tale. So, match the emotional maturity with the unique stop-motion and 3D design, and you have what I would consider a fantastic film for both kids and adults alike. 


3. "Inglourious Basterds" Tarantino, the sponge that he is, has the ability to absorb film techniques and style throughout film history and squeeze them out into a style his own. I fell in love with "Reservoir Dogs" for that reason, and he hasn't given me any great disappointments yet. "Inglourious Basterds," though, may just be his best film to date. Aside from New Wave elements throughout the movie and the great performances from Brad Pitt, Melanie Laurent and Christoph Waltz, what's most important about "Inglourious Basterds" is that it gave us the ending to WWII that we all wanted (or perhaps it's the ending we all imagine considering how much we celebrate the damned war).


2. "Funny People" I can't put anything about this movie better than Roger Ebert did, so I'll use his words. "The thing about 'Funny People' is that it's a real movie. That means carefully written dialogue and carefully placed supporting performances -- and it's about something. It could have easily been a formula film, and the trailer shamelessly tries to misrepresent it as one, but George Simmons learns and changes during his ordeal, and we empathize." Oh wait, one more thing, this movie has one of the best cameos I have ever seen in a film. Perhaps even better than "Zombieland's."
 

1. "Crank: High Voltage" This was the most fun I've had in a theatre ever. "Iron Man" was full of nostalgic joy that made me feel like a kid on Christmas morning, but "Crank: High Voltage" was something else. It was visual speed. It was like a video game, a movie, a music video and a junkie all rolled up into one. And, honestly, I don't think I understand it yet. The cinematic style is too out of the norm for me to figure out. The only other movies to give me this kind of puzzle is Godard's work. And, frankly, I like the brain food.

Dreams and Ideals

“The American Dream has run out of gas. The car has stopped. It no longer supplies the world with its images, its dreams, its fantasies. No more. It's over. It supplies the world with its nightmares now: the Kennedy assassination, Watergate, Vietnam...” - J. G. Ballard

           

The idea of the American Dream, reasonably, has been ingrained in this country since its genesis. The Declaration of Independence says it all by saying that all men are born with the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The term “American Dream” didn’t exist until 1931 when James Truslow Adams used it in his book “The Epic of America” where he described it as each man and woman having the ability to make what they want of their own lives. Since then the idea of the dream has been reshaped by those who are doing the dreaming. As a result, authors like Truman Capote and F. Scot Fitzgerald and musicians like John Cougar Mellencamp and Les Claypool have put their own twist on the idea, many of which are dark and cynical. John Schlesinger’s Midnight Cowboy is another morose interpretation of the American Dream as evidenced in the film’s cinematography.

To put it succinctly, the film is about Joe Buck, a naïve and attractive cowboy from Texas who is on his way to New York to become a male prostitute. However, his plan to please rich, lonely women gets derailed quickly by the harsh reality of the Big Apple. After spending all of his money, Joe takes shelter with the greasy swindler Ratso Rizzo and continues to try and live his own American Dream. The only hitch is that Joe doesn’t seem to be operating in the actual world but an artificial one.

The Greek philosopher Plato put it best in his allegory of the cave. In the cave were inhabitants chained to a wall so they could not move or turn their heads. And behind the prisoners was a great fire which cast shadows of themselves on the wall. The shadows were the only things they could see, so to them the shadows were real people. This situation perfectly sums up how Joe Buck was created.

The first shot of the film is a close-up of a drive-in theater screen with the non-diagetic soundtrack of a Western playing complete with galloping horses and gun fire. The shot of the screen is so close, in fact, that it’s difficult to decipher what it is until the camera steps back. And when it does, what is revealed is a child in a cowboy costume riding on a toy horse in the theater’s playground with an actual horse in a corral behind him. The young Joe Buck contently plays on his fake horse paying no attention to the creature within a few yards of him.

The setting of the bare theater screen serves as Joe’s cave wall, as does the television screen that acted as his parent when he was a child, which we see during numerous flashbacks. On these screens Joe watches images that represent reality without being real. However, being strapped in his own cave, Joe mistakes what he sees as being real and tries to replicate it. This means that Joe’s idea of a cowboy is a flashy Hollywood costume as opposed to actual ranch hands. And on top of that, his entire life view is something suitable for a raunchy soap opera.

Of course, his trip to the East Coast is not entirely based on misrepresented images. He also wants to run away from himself. Multiple flashbacks throughout the movie show that Joe once had a decent life with a beautiful woman until one night they were both raped by the local town boys. The event pushed Joe’s girl over the edge and she mistakenly blamed Joe for what happened. This type of tragedy would be enough for anybody to pick up and move across the country. As Claudia Rankine puts it in her essay Don’t Let Me Be Lonely, “…We should all change our names when we don’t like what we see in the mirror. It’s an easy way to distance the self from the self….” Sometimes changing your life is the best way to forget what it once was.

             When the time comes for Joe to take the trip to New York, he still attempts to focus on his cave wall by listening to his transistor radio. He has no TV or movie screen with which to put his attention, but he cannot yet let himself get acclimated to reality. The radio works as a good replacement and during the course of the film it begins to represent both Joe’s last shred of optimism and the last shackle holding him in his cave.

            During the last bus ride of the film where Joe is attempting to take a dying Ratso to Miami before he dies, Joe has a very different experience. Here he is without any kind of artifice to take him out of reality and is anchored down to the real world due to Ratso’s grim presence. It’s here that Joe redefines his American Dream to suit the real world. Instead of becoming a big-time, cowboy hustler in New York he comes to the decision of being a physical laborer in Miami. And he’s happy with that prospect.

            In his essay on Blue Velvet, Richard Schickel said, “It could be argued that Lynch’s most basic business is to deny us the falsifying nostalgia that exposure to the cultural artifacts of the past so genially evoke, to deny us false comforts of falsified history, in the process denying us that ‘Golden Age’ we so often use to measure - and deplore - contemporary reality.” Essentially, Schlesinger aimed to do the same thing in Midnight Cowboy, except instead of denying us a perfect past he is shooting down an impossible future the American Dream seems to promise.  The grittiness the camera took so often accompanied by its bleak subjects caused a powerful message. Film critic Roger Ebert, however, disagrees about the quality of the film’s photography. In his 1994 revisit of the 1969 film he said, “He took those two magnificent (Jon Voight’s Joe Buck and Dustin Hoffman’s Ratso Rizzo) performances and dropped them into a trendy, gimmick-ridden exercise in fashionable cinema. The ghost of the Swinging Sixties haunts ‘Midnight Cowboy,’ and robs it of the timelessness it should possess.”

Of course, one man’s gimmick is another’s treasure as evidenced in Desson Howe’s review for the Washington Post of the same year, “But the fact is, in these unsentimental '90s, the movie's unrelenting grimness holds up very nicely. Beyond the toils and troubles of Joe Buck and Ratso (that's Enrico Salvatore Rizzo), the world itself is lost in hopeless isolation, wallowing in a poverty of money, morality and love.” Elsewhere in the article Howe compliments the film on the very same scenes for which Ebert attacked it. Specifically, what they refer to as the Warhol-esque party. Ebert felt as though the party had little narrative value, was already a trite scene at that point in time and was unrealistic in regards to Joe and Ratso even getting invited. Howe considers the surrealistic scene as cutely quaint.

While I tend to appreciate Ebert’s opinion more than Howe’s, if only for the reason it’s more fleshed out, I think both critics miss the mark. The setting of the party served as platform to give Joe the kind of attention that propelled him to New York in the first place. The documentary style footage present in the scene put Joe in the middle of his own shows. Instead of being a real person, he became yet another representation of reality, much like most of the other guests at the party. Joe enjoyed the taste of the artificial world and even got his first real gigolo job there. However, Ratso’s decreasing health brings Joe back to reality.

Ebert also said, “They exist apart from the movie, outside of it. Their lives have nothing to do with Andy Warhol parties, or escort services, or hard Park Avenue dames. And who can really believe they would ever find themselves on that bus to Florida?” What would Ebert have said if the story had taken an even more surreal approach, such as in 8 ½? Instead of one scene of a hallucinatory party, what if it had been as erratic as Fellini’s film? As Dwight MacDonald said in his essay on the film, “There are three kinds of reality in 8 ½, and the film proceeds with a constant shifting of gear between them. There is Guido’s real present….There are his memories of his boyhood and of his dead parents. And there are his Walter Mitty daydreams of a harmonious realm of luxe, calme, et volupte in which all his problems are magically solved: the artist’s world of creative fantasy.” Midnight Cowboy already reaches the first two in relation to Joe Buck. As for that last one, the closest we come to is Ratso’s fantasy about owning his own resort in Miami. Granted, there is a difference between supplying numerous fantasy scenes and creating ridiculous places of reality, but it isn’t a big one. In Fellini’s film, reality and fantasy were separated and the film transitioned from one to other and back again. In Schlesinger’s film, reality and fantasy were blended together, and considering Joe’s journey that seems like the perfect residence. He is a man that can’t distinguish the two, so the film can’t either. It works to complicate our understanding of reality along with the underlying theme of the American Dream. 

But in the end we are left without the unreal world and are placed on a bus with Joe and Ratso heading to Florida. Here we see the evolution of both characters. In the beginning the difference between Joe and Ratso was big and small at the same time. They both had dreams and they both lived a harsh reality. The difference being that Joe was chained is his cave for most of the film whereas Ratso was embedded in reality. He fantasized about going to Miami, sure, but his day to day routine was focused on survival. The two are similar to the sisters in Donal Mosher’s essay Desiree, Daneal and the Devil. In it, both sisters have gone through a rough life, but deal with it differently. The older sister, Daneal, who was molested by her father, is embittered towards men and speaks openly about the harshness of reality. “Desiree however is not made of the same tough fiber. She bounds her world with cartoons, video games, and all the dense, sparkling décor of young girlhood.” But that last bus ride has Ratso attempting to live in the fake world for the remainder of his life and has Joe face reality. This means Joe has to give up his great dream and find something more realistic, which he does. He’s gone from a fragile Desiree to the toughened Daneal, finally punctuated by the death of Ratso on the bus.

 The road to the American Dream is a dangerous one for many people. And for Joe Buck that path was even more hazardous due to him not living in the real world. However, he survived his journey and while he may not have reached his dream at the end of it, he did accomplish something better. He woke up to reality. Let’s just hope that Joe didn’t wake up from his dream to find himself in a nightmare.

Film and You!

I'm sorry. I've done wrong. I've been writing for who knows how long presuming everybody has the same knowledge I do regarding film theory. However, recently, I realized this isn't true. So, in order make up some lost ground, here's a quick lesson:


A movie is never just a movie. 


If that isn't enough for you, here's a longer lesson. There are two things that control society: written laws and ideology in the form of cultural traditions and customs. Laws, because they are written into a physical form, can be reacted against. For instance, the speed limit of freeway 50 is 65 mph. To show the man what's what, many people go 80 mph. Likewise, it is against the law to spray paint the side of a building, but it's a great way to stick it to the establishment. Because of the transparency of laws, they aren't very effective. Sure, we usually obey them because we don't want to get in trouble. But that isn't as good as obeying something because we want to.

That's where ideology comes into play. These encompass social norms that most people don't think about. For example, why do baby boys get dressed in blue and baby girls in pink? Some might say, "It's always been that way," and that's 1.) intellectually lazy, and 2.) wrong. The habit began around the 1940s. Why did it happen? As far as I can tell, nobody knows. But it's tradition now, and with the exception of some liberals out there, it's still a popularly held belief. Similarly, the phrase "under God" wasn't placed into the Pledge of Allegiance until 1952. But, of course, most people would just say "It's always been that way" and think no more of it.

What would happen if a law was written to officially designate that all baby boys must wear blue, and pink for baby girls? People would fight it. But since nobody is making it visible, everybody just consumes and accepts it. And that's why movies are dangerous.

Movies, primarily classical Hollywood movies, thrive on this point. The cutting to continuity that makes progression through a film so smooth passes on hidden ideologies that audience members usually don't pick up. My go-to example for this is Disney princess movies. Those films time and time again feature passive, White women that wait for a man to rescue them. The film doesn't show flash cards saying "Women are helpless" because women would get pissed off. But when you have it written in the character, it isn't visible enough for the general audience member to notice. So, they consume it. 

Of course, some people would argue that just because they see something on a movie screen doesn't mean that they incorporate it into themselves. I would disagree, as would most psychoanalysts. See, there is this old French guy named Jacques Lacan who came up with the theory of the mirror stage. Babies as early as six-months old can recognize themselves in mirrors, however are still dreadfully uncoordinated. The conflict that arises because of the complete image the baby sees and the uncoordination he or she feels creates a rivalry between the two. Two squash this aggression, the baby identifies with the image, and the Ego is created. 

This relates to film in this way. The movie screen takes the place of the mirror, and instead of our own reflection on the screen we see actors and actresses. We feel the same conflict that a baby has with its reflection, and we end up viewing ourselves as the protagonist in the film. This process is augmented when the gender of the protagonist matches the viewer. This explains why it's usually girls that take after princesses in Disney films whereas boys try to be the courageous, active princes.

There are tons of other ways ideologies are passed onto audiences. For instance, as I stated in my "Iron Man" review years ago, that film perpetuates the idea of Middle Eastern people as terrorists. Since there is no substantial counter argument in the film, we are to believe that if you are Middle Eastern, then you are a terrorist. The movie could have easily been changed to have a militia group stateside abduct Tony Stark, but opted to feed us the fearful impression of the Other. Also, in "Rebel Without a Cause" the only character to die was the guy who was alluded to being gay. Hopefully I don't need to spell out what that one means.

My point is that movies aren't just movies. If you believe they are, that's when they get you. Of course, if you are fine with that, then that is your prerogative. Be comfortably numb. Give yourself over to Hollywood for hours at a time. Let them do whatever they'd like to your mind. I, on the other hand, don't want to be worked on. I want to be in control of what gets into my brain. 

Just do me one favor. Think about this for me. When Alex was tied down and forced to watch violent and pornographic images in "A Clockwork Orange," what do you think that was really about?  

With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

When "Twilight" came out last year, I let it come and go without comment (on this blog at least). Yes, it was terrible, and I could have had a lot of fun tearing it apart. However, I decided the best course of action was to ignore it. I figured if I didn't acknowledge it then it might disappear, and I'd never have to think about it again. Well, I was as wrong as the U.S. was when trying to ignore World War II. Now the sequel, "New Moon," is out and breaking box office records. Much like how Spider-man let the thief go who went on to kill Uncle Ben, I have seen that my passivity has yielded dreadful results. So, it's time to do my job.

"New Moon" begins with Bella having a nightmare that she'll grow old while Edward will remain eternally youthful. Of course she's worried about that. After all, we men only care about looks. And let's face it ladies, with all of the make-up and cosmetic surgery available, you have no reason not to look perfect. I mean, living a fulfilling and happy life with somebody you love only matters as long as you look good doing it, right?

So, the next day is Bella's birthday and her dream has her freaking out about her future. She talks to Edward about this and tries to get him to change her into a vampire. Edward, being a man, can't deal with her feelings and breaks up with her. He tells her it's for her own good, but clearly he's just a scoundrel who can't deal with the responsibility and commitment that a relationship takes. Of course, very few of us men can. Bella reasonably responds to the break-up by ending her life.

I don't mean she kills herself, but she apparently spends months doing nothing but staring out her window into the rain and trees. Killing herself comes later. See, she can't live without a man and figures out that every time she enters a dangerous situation she sees Edward. So, in order to feel complete she needs to be with Edward, and the only way to do that is to straddle death....That sounds fair. I mean, women can't have meaning without men, so it makes sense that her choices are to be with Edward or die. Just try to name one strong, independent woman.

But as the narrative progresses, Bella kind of begins a relationship with Jacob, the friendly neighborhood werewolf. Regular guys clearly have nothing to offer this woman. However, even though Jacob was there for her after Edward bailed on her, he isn't good enough for her. See, Jacob isn't white, so he's automatically inferior to the ubermensch known as Edward. So, Bella uses Jacob as a replacement until she can be with her pale man again.

This temporary relationship between Bella and Jacob is a little rocky, though. See, Jacob soon starts brushing Bella off and avoiding her. Again, here's Bella being tossed aside by a man. Clearly she's left with only one choice of action: grovel for an explanation. After confronting Jacob, she realizes that he's been hanging out with the other non-whites and that's why he hasn't been calling her. Hasn't she ever heard the phrase "Bros before hos?" I guess not because she goes up to his buddies and slaps one of them in the face. The accosted man, being less civilized than his lighter skinned counterparts, snaps and tries to eat her (turns out he's a werewolf, too). Jacob saves her for one reason or another and the movie goes on. Yay.

Since the incident, Bella and Jacob reignited their pseudo-relationship and were doing pretty well until Alice (Edward's..."sister") returned. In one of the clearest displays of racism I've seen in any film, Alice kicks Jacob out of the house so she and Bella can talk. Then things happen and the story goes to Italy and...it's not worth it. I'm skipping to the end.

Edward returns and vows never to leave Bella again. Knowing a good thing when she sees it, Bella takes Edward back and tosses Jacob aside. It was really the smart decision looking at the long term. I mean, Edward can get a better, higher paying job based on his skin color alone. And that's ignoring the fact that the Cullen family are obviously a part of the elite whereas Jacob and his family are blue-collar workers. And the film ends with something so trite and obnoxious that I won't repeat here for fear of tainting my blog. Just think of the most stereotypical ending you can, and you probably got it.

This movie was appalling. It was sexist. It was racist. And, really, it was just bad film making. The fact that girls across the country are looking up to Bella as some sort of role model scares me. She takes the passivity of Disney princesses and combines it with every whiny, emotional teen stereotype you could imagine. I mean, she may even be worse role model than Hannah Montana. But the country spoke last weekend and screamed for more. I can't wait to see what the next movie brings.

 

Me Versus Ebert

After the stream of celebrity deaths this year, I figured I had better get any grievances I have with the Hollywood elite off my chest while they are still alive. Of course, an article listing every problem I have with certain stars would take an excruciatingly long time. So, I'll just start with the top of the list for now and gradually make my way down. And at the top is Roger Ebert.

I know, he isn't a star, but he is certainly related to the world of cinema. Plus, the bone I have to pick with him is a particularly large one. See, ever since I was a kid I've known of Roger Ebert. I didn't have much of a context as to who he was or what he did, but I always knew the name. Then, with thanks to the Animaniacs and "The Critic," I discovered he reviewed movies. Being a movie fanatic for as long as I could remember, I placed Ebert on a pedestal because he was the first film critic I've ever heard of. He was like a demigod to me. But it wasn't until the last year or so that I started reading his reviews. And while he and I agree on many things, I think he's written a good portion of his reviews while out of his mind.

Exhibit A: "Fighting." Ebert gave this film three stars out of four. The general synopsis is that Shawn (Channing Tatum) is a struggling street vendor approached by Harvey (Terrance Howard) to join the leagues of underground fighting. Ebert's reasoning for his score is that he likes how the actors are the film's focus as opposed to the worn out narrative. Ebert says that the director met the requirements of making a genre film and then put the rest of his efforts in making the characters interesting. 

I will concede that the characters, specifically Harvey, were more fleshed out than in other action films, but that isn't enough for me. The narrative itself is dead. As I said when it was first being released, its story is a rehashing of "Lionheart" with minimal chages here and there. So, if you are going to make an action film with a recycled plot, you might as well make sure the action is good, right? Not in this film. Shawn doesn't even win his first fight; the other guy defeats himself. And every subsequent fight gets a little bit better, but, really, watching Adam Sandler and Eric Bana fight in "Funny People" was more entertaining. What I'm trying to say is that if you are going to make an action film that focuses on the characters as opposed to the action, then you had better be sure the characters are damned compelling, which, for me, they weren't. I'd give the movie two stars out of four.

Exhibit B: "Blue Velvet." Ebert gave this film one star out of four. His argument for scoring one of Lynch's most-hailed films a measly one star is that he believes that the film is two-sided. On one hand it shows powerful emotional depth and disturbing sexual imagery that can make almost any audience member cringe. And on the other hand it is a parody of a "Leave it to Beaver"-type small town and is full of satirical in-jokes. The combination of the two takes away from both of their strengths and results in a convoluted, insincere experience.

Again, I disagree. I think the comparison of the seedy underworld with all of its demented attributes and the too-perfect town of Lumberton feed off of each other rather than hurt each other. There are some things you can only define in comparison to their opposites. "Good" would not exist without "bad;" they are dependent on each other for existence. To me, that's what this kind of film does. In order to define how terrible Dennis Hopper and his gang are, we are given the reference point of well-tended lawns and white picket fences. And the fact that the small-town coziness never disappears also works for me because it shows that despite the realization that heinous activities are occurring, the citizens of the town remain oblivious or they just don't care. They are living in a sort of consensus reality where nothing bad happens...even though it does. I'd give the film a minimum of three stars.

Exhibit C: "Knowing." Ebert gave the film four out of four stars. After reading his review, I want to say that Ebert likes this film in theory more than he actually likes it in practice. He commends the film on bringing an ancient debate to the surface (Is the universe deterministic or random?) and making an argument for one of the sides. That is where the greater part of his praise lands. He does mention things like special effects, the musical score and editing, but those received a line of note whereas the general premise of the film and related debates took up paragraphs. Still, whatever his reasoning, he did award it a perfect score.

Now, when scoring something 100 percent, I take things very seriously. After all, a perfect score means nothing could be done to make the film better. I've maybe seen one or two movies I'd give that accolade to, and neither of them is "Knowing." Sure, I like the premise, too, but the film falls flat in other respects. Really, I'd say the film reaches a level of incoherence by the end thanks to its vague randomness. Also, I feel as though Nicolas Cage is only half-trying to act, but maybe that's because I don't like how the character is written. Either way, it's a bad thing. One part of the film Ebert and I agree on is the effects. During certain scenes I was darned impressed with what computers could conjure up. But beyond that, the movie was ok at best. I'd give it a max of three stars, maybe just two and a half.

Now, I am just a lowly film student and Ebert has been studying and reviewing films since before I was born, but I am convinced Ebert is losing it in his old age. Sure, different people have different opinions, but this is too much. "Knowing" getting a perfect score is unnatural. I actually thought somebody hacked his website and wrote a fake review when I first read it. But nope. That's just Ebert. 

Oh well, at least he hated "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen."