Doppelganger or the Cut Direct?

A couple weeks ago (right in the thick of my crazy-busyness), I saw someone who looked like a boy I grew up with at a concert. He was the right height, the right age, the right style of dress—assuming he hadn’t changed his style too much in the 10 years since I had seen him—and the right face…or at least as close to it as the ten years between being 17 and being 27 can come. But I wasn’t sure. Because that face might have been the same face 10 years later, or it might have been the face of a stranger that coincidentally looked very close to that of an old friend.

I was standing behind him and to one side, and he turned his head every which way but toward me, which seemed strange. Had he seen me, recognized me, and determined to studiously avoid me? Or was I just in his “blind spot” and it was again nothing more than a coincidence?

Finally I couldn’t stand it. During the set break I tugged on his jacket. He turned around and gave no sign of recognition. “I’m sorry to bother you, but you look so familiar,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Doug.”

The guy I thought he was was named Doug.

I offered the last name of the boy I knew as a question, as if to say “[Doug] Surname?” But he just repeated “Doug” like I had tried to call him Brad or something. I asked where he was from, and he said "here"--which most of the time people who have only lived here a couple years don't say. I apologized for bothering him again, saying he looked just like someone I knew, and he said something polite like “Sometimes you see faces that look the same,” and that was that.

So…was this a crazy ass coincidence, that two guys who look so much alike could actually share the same name? Or was that my Doug intentionally choosing not to know me?

If it was you, Doug, old friend, then I tip my hat to you. You played your part perfectly, because obviously I am still in doubt as to whether that was really you or not. Moreover, that move took balls. Disavowing face to face someone you went to school with for five years? Balls of iron. You took that character and you meant it; you lived it. Mrs. C. would be so proud. I hope you tell her about it.

The Good, The Bad, and The Daiquiri

I went running for the first time in about a month yesterday, inspired by the grip of my bluedevils. It was both better and worse than I expected. On the one hand, being 10 pounds lighter apparently makes a HUGE difference in how it feels to have my full weight slamming down on my feet and jarring back up through my knees and hips. I felt light on my feet and truly enjoyed the sensation of running.

Unfortunately, between that enjoyment and my angry energy and the pump tunes on my Ipod, I ended up running way too fast. So fast that my occasional runner's asthma (which up to now has only ever manifested itself as a rattle in my throat that never seemed to interfere too much with my oxygen exchange) flared up into an actual pain in my lungs. It was worse than I've ever felt and kind of scared me. I might actually go see a doctor about it, to see if I need to carry an inhaler with me when I work out or something.

Undeterred from at least walking the rest of my loop, I was reminded as I did so of the last time I had been in the park--sipping a Big Gulp daiquiri with Bec while she was here. And, I mean, that same daiquiri shop that had the Cajun Eggnog flavor was right on my way home from the park, so, I mean, what was a bitch to do but stop and pick one up?

Yes, I stopped for a daiquiri on my way home from working out. If that doesn't say New Orleans, I don't know what does.

I Need to Re-Learn How to Write

I'm having a bit of a conniption fit this morning. I think I've forgotten how to write. All I've written in a good two months is reviewing or blogging. Any time I've tried to sit down and write something else I haven't been able to accomplish anything. My computer has become a negative space for creativity now, which is damned unfortunate because I can type so much faster than I can write by hand. But I almost think I need to go back to that just to get anything accomplished on one of my stories.

I also think I need to cut back on the amount of reviewing I'm doing. Not here, obviously, despite movie reviews being one of the only things I ever post here anymore. But I'm just getting overwhelmed with the amount of time I'm spending writing but not not writing. First up: blow through my stack of 13--yes thir-motherfucking-teen review copy books and then stop doing that. Fuck it, I can afford to buy any book that I want to read that badly. I am starting to hate reading because now it's an obligation to read it in a timely manner and not just when I feel like it. The fact that I'm finding little joy in reading is a bad, bad sign.

The question was also posed to me, what would be my price for giving up my dreams? Not in so many words, but rather in a "what would it take for you to take over everything on the site?" way. What it would mean, however, is giving up any pretension to writing. There would not be time. There isn't time now, apparently. But there really wouldn't be time then.

I don't know what to say. Can I put a price tag on that? And what does it say about me if I do? That my dad was right and this is just a phase I've never grown out of? That I'm one of those people who only talks about wanting to be a writer but can't actually get their shit together to write?

Delayed Review: Zombieland

The best romantic comedy of the year!

I am not being facetious. Okay, I am not being very facetious. But seriously, this movie is to rom-com’s what Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is to Jane Austen novels: it is a romantic comedy situation and story, but set in a zombie apocalypse. Straight up.

Was it funny? Gloriously so. The gratuitous violence was top-notch, and it enhanced the actual plays for humor tenfold. Gruesomely sidesplitting. (Maybe I should say “literally sidesplitting”?) Jesse Eisenberg redeems himself for making Adventureland by remaking it plus zombies, and he plays the part of the sociophobe who survives by luck and paranoia—the handicap of his irritable bowels notwithstanding—and a list of rules that include things like:
-cardio (because zombies, like vic romano, are total chubby-chasers, because they can’t run as fast)
-avoid bathrooms (because they can sense when you’re vulnerable)
-always double-tap (because that second shot is always fun, but you never know when it’s the difference between life and being eaten by a zombie)

Woody Harrelson as Florida/Tallahassee was profane, psychotic, and surprisingly relatable. His mama always told him he’d be good at one thing in his life; who’d’ve thunk it’d be zombie killing? But he revels in it. the scenes from commercials give you some idea, such as him playing “Dueling Banjos” in a supermarket to attract their attention and running over them in his hummer like he’s competing in the death race and every head that pops off like an exploding tube of toothpaste is 100 points.

Anyway, the basic premise of the movie is that these two guys team up and then get played by a pair of sisters (Jules from Superbad and Little Miss Sunshine herself) trying to reach California. They follow the girls, end up teaming up with them, and it turns out for Jesse that possibly literally being the last boy on the face of the earth still only gives him even odds at scoring with the hottie. Along the way they meet a zombie bill murray, decapitate too many of the infected to count, and somehow can’t seem to find Tallahassee a twinkie even though he’s the only person left who would possibly want to eat one…

So, this was a cute, hilarious, bloodspattered romp at the campy horror picture theme park. If you don’t mind body parts and flesh-eating zombies, it’s actually kind of a sweet movie. Maybe even too sweet, as few of the action sequences (by which I mean the times they are actively chased by zombies) are very tense, or even overwhelmingly populated with zombies. If there’s a serious flaw in the movie it’s that, that they didn’t nut up enough on their budget to get more than a few hundred zombies on screen at a time. Barring that, fun all the way around.

Basically, if you’re a couple looking for a good compromise movie, this one’s a winner—as long as she likes zombies…

Delayed Review: Shane Acker's 9

I really wanted to like this movie. And let me be honest: compared to so much of the other schlock out their aimed at its audience (older kids), like [insert a Michael Bay movie here], this movie kicked ass. The problem was, based on the previews and the advertisements—“This isn’t your little brother’s animated movie”—I expected something a little more profound. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

So. The premise of the movie is that in some vague post-apocalyptic future, the intelligent automaton Nine awakens and leaves his place of awakening for the world beyond. He is found by Two, who saves him from The Beast (a bad-ASS robotic demon cat) by sacrificing himself to it, and then Nine meets Five, who takes him back to the headquarters. Five and Nine embark on a mission to save Two, and Nine accidentally awakens a terrible power. He and his friends must find a way to stop The Machine before it destroys the world—again—and all of them with it…

First of all, this movie was awesome, straight up awesome, visually. One of my friends called it “patch-punk,” which I really liked, even though I think he meant it a little bit insultingly. The little automatons are made of burlap and mechanical parts, and they are adorable. The world itself is blasted and hollow, with gray and sickly yellow color palettes dominating the film. Where there is color, it is almost threatening—the red of the factory’s rekindled fires, the red of the evil machine cat’s eyes, the avada kedavra green of the soul-stealing talisman…

There was plenty of humor in the film, some of it aimed at adults—such as the big dumb lunk Eight using a magnet to get high, his eyes wobbling in bliss and his expression going slack every time he held it to his head—and also plenty of emotional punches. There are several members of the party who get taken by one of The Machine’s beasts, and just as many who ultimately get taken by The Machine. As far as having deaths and sacrifices, this movie is definitely not geared toward small children.

My problem was that the philosophy in the movie and the way events ultimately played out undercut (for me, at least) the emotional punch of those deaths and those choices and those sacrifices. It was pretty anti-technology, although I do give it credit for not also being anti-human; in the end it is the power of the human spirit which animates the 9 creations and which alone can overcome the unnatural power of The Machine. But I felt like the particular iteration of the idea was kind of cliché; nowhere near as original or striking as the frame of the movie deserved. So was the ultimate denouement of the story.

This movie to me seemed like a classic case of someone having a great idea but not knowing all the backstory when the idea comes to them, only instead of leaving well enough alone they go ahead and fill in the backstory…which devalued the initial idea.

This movie would have been much better if the reason for their creation had never been brought up, and if the main plot had been a simple kidnapping and rescue mission. Instead the movie got swept up in explaining what had happened and how the 9 came to be and them saving the world from the mess humanity left behind, and it was just…not that great a story. I vastly prefer something to be left unexplained than to be explained poorly. I would rather have been left to fill in on my own what happened to all the humans and why (and how) the scientist created the 9 rather than having the librarians (3 & 4) show clips of war and destruction and find some ancient scroll that prophesies the saving of the world.

But let me reiterate that this movie was not terrible, especially not as far as kids’ movies go. It was eminently watchable, if nothing else then for the visuals of it, and the voice-acting was great, as you’d expect from a cast that includes Crispin Glover, Christopher Lee, Elijah Wood, Jennifer Connelly, and Tim Robbins. Even if I thought the backstory was overdone and weak, I would watch this movie a thousand times before sitting down with Transformers 2, so if you’re looking for a flick to watch with your kids, this is going to be a much better choice than a lot of what’s out there.

I can’t go two thumbs up, but I can’t bring myself to go two thumbs down, either. Two thumbs it should’ve been better but wasn’t an epic fail. C.

Right. So That Initiative Was an Epic Fail

But never fear! Because after a very busy 2 weeks, I intend to get back on track with this little bitch of a blog. If you were wondering what's been keeping me so busy, see how these excuses fit:

First, my childhood (and still) best friend came in for our first Big Girl visit, literally the first time we've spent a weekend together that WASN'T at her dad's house since before we turned 21.

And I also had to scramble to get my application together to meet a November 15 deadline. I'm applying to a grant that would send me to graduate school for free, starting next semester (as in, January) if I get it.

Plus by now I expect y'all all understand I'm inherently inclined toward laziness, and, well, it's been a struggle to get my computer turned on most of these evenings lately. In the meantime, why isn't this real?

Delayed Review: Inglourious Basterds

We didn't rush out to see this movie on opening night, but we did manage to see it in the theater before it left. I'm just getting around to talking about it now, two months after the fact. Apologies that this is more a collection of thoughts than a formal (read: well-bridged and cohesive) review. It's been a while. :)

So, this was a movie where expectations interfered with the movie experience. When I first heard about this, essentially after Kill Bill came out and Tarantino said he was making a WWII movie next, because he'd always wanted to make a war movie, I took that as Tarantino making, you know, a war movie. Like Saving Private Ryan, except ten times as bloody and a hundred times more profane. So that was my expectation going into this movie.

WRONG! This was a wartime spy movie. Very different genre. Very different type of movie. Which is not to say that this movie was not violent or profane. It was both. But not more, and quite likely less, than most of Tarantino's other films.

While I did enjoy the movie overall, I don't think the genre of movie he was doing his usual "homage style" to really lent itself to an homage movie. It just seemed a second-rate war-spy movie rather than a loving tribute. And it made me sad to come out of a movie by a director I generally enjoy feeling like, "yes, I enjoyed it; yes, it was good; but it wasn't as good as it should have been."

There was certainly an aggressive edge to the actions of Lt. Aldo Raines and his company of Nazi hunters that the vengeful, bloodthirsty side of my genepool loved. The violence against Nazis was brutal and gore-spattered and graphic; everything I expected there.

The bad guy, the German officer who linked both plotlines was fabulous. He was fussy and dignified and cold as ice. Well-cast and well-played. Looking back he was probably the most memorable character. I mean, B.J. Novak was in a different turn from his Ryan on The Office, and Brad Pitt was swaggeringly ruthless as Raines. But really, the German stole the show on the men's side. The only significant female parts were both played very well, especially Diane Kruger. I think she did capture the spirit of an old movie star beautifully.

The actress who played Shoshanna simply played the part of an impassioned, vengeful, Jew-in-hiding with verve. Her sub-plot was really the heart of the movie. Her plan to assassinate the entire upper echelon of Hitler's officers and sycophants dovetailed with the ultimate suicide mission of Raines and co. One of my friends called it a "Jewish fantasy," and the ending was certainly that. It was perhaps the most unique feature of all the plot-to-assassinate-Hitler movies out there--that this one actually succeeded.

I actually felt kind of sorry for the young German officer who was trying to be so nice to the pretty French girl, until the last scene. Then I was pleased to see him get killed.

I loved the scene in the middle-of-nowhere bar. It was tense and funny, and it quivers back and forth between they're going to get away with it/no they're not. The last bit with the British officer was primo. After he blows his cover--"I'll go out speaking the king's, then, if you don't mind." Perfect sangfroid. Utterly hilarious.

The one death I didn't like was the actress, who survived the shootout only to get strangled just before the culmination of their plan. If the German officer knew already that he was going to let the plot to kill Hitler move forward, and knew that she was on the Americans' side, it didn't make complete sense for him to kill her. It was just sort of petty and cruel. I guess it was there to keep the audience from developing an actual sympathy for him, a balm to salve our conscience when Raines is carving the swastika into his forehead at the end.

Overall, I enjoyed the movie. It was well filmed, well acted, a tense and interesting story with at least a few really sharply defined characters. I think my hesitance to call it a great movie is just that...there was no war. It was a spy movie, and I wanted a bloodbath. Well, I guess it did end as one, but you know what I mean. I was thinking Braveheart and got The Lion in Winter. If you still haven't seen it, just go in with the right expectation. As for me, I will list it as probably the most serious of Tarantino's films but not really his best.

All the same, even Tarantino's worst (and I'm not saying this is) is leaps and bounds above Michael Bay's attempt at a WWII film, so let's just keep my criticisms in perspective....