Friday, January 1, 2010
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Film Review: Your Friends and Neighbors
The Joylessness Of Sex
Over it’s brilliant opening credits, Your Friends And Neighbors reveals it’s intent and subject matter immediately and perfectly. Behind some staid Alex Katz paintings of highbrow cocktail party-attending professionals wearing pastel-colored suits plays Metellica’s Enter Sandman performed by a group using only four cellos. The piece’s classical nuance is, almost subliminally, subverted and made slightly disturbing by its underlying anarchy. Eventually, after we see how awful most of the cast treats each other, all is made clear: no amount of civility and usage of 35 cent words can ever hide souls as black as these. Yes friends, we’re back in writer/director Neil LaBute’s dark forest and even those who’ve already squirmed their way through his In The Company Of Men haven’t seen anything nearly as nihilistic, as condemning of our modern human condition as Your Friends And Neighbors (this movie, which contains no violence and almost no nudity, was originally given an NC-17 rating by the MPAA. On appeal, it was reduced to an R). And just as its title suggests, these monsters may only be a hair’s breadth away.
The film jokingly lists its six characters’ names in the final credits as Mary, Barry, Terri, Jerry, Cheri and Cary but no one in the film ever calls anyone by name (they don’t have nearly enough respect for each other to go to the bother). This nameless name-calling also lends the screenplay some hard-earned authenticity. It’s jarring to find yourself halfway through a film and still only able to identify the characters by description but it also sounds incredibly natural, it sounds real. Think of the last person you talked to. How many times did you have to say their name out loud? You didn’t because that’s only a theatrical device, a “helper” for the slower people in the audience.
One last clever gimmick employed in this film is that no one other than its six characters has any speaking roles whatsoever. No waiter ever asks for their order, no doorman offers a “Good day,” and no stranger ever approaches them asking for the time. These characters exist in a vacuum of their own discord. The input and opinions -- hell, the very existence of the entire outer world, is moot to them as they only believe that their gripes, their problems, their selves is the only thing that matters.
In a nutshell, the film is a simple sexual roundelay between six people, four of which are in a relationship. Aaron Eckhart (please Mr. LaBute, continue to cast this great actor in all of your films) and Amy Brenneman are married but they’re troubled by some unspoken tensions, some powerful undertow that keeps pulling them further and further apart. We know some things need fixing when Eckhart admits to a coworker fairly early on that he’d rather masturbate than have sex with another human. Reminds me of that old Woody Allen line “Don’t knock masturbation. It’s sex with someone I love,” but his admission clearly indicates either a loss or fear of intimacy.
Ben Stiller and Catherine Keener are lovers but seem to be disgusted by each other from their very first scene. And that they’re having sex in that first scene while openly displaying those feelings doesn’t bode well for their future. Frustrated in that relationship, Stiller initiates an affair with Brenneman but when their first rendezvous doesn’t turn out to be the joyous experience they both expected, tensions are ratcheted even higher and malicious endeavors are increased. Just halfway through the film, these people’s selfish and hateful attitudes are pulled so tight we almost fear that their intense inner anger could, when combined, tear the very planet apart.
Nastassja Kinski is the somewhat innocent outsider unlucky enough to get herself involved with this group. A gallery employee with the misfortune of meeting each of these art-loving psychopaths as they each separately peruse her museum supplies this film with one of its few honest laughs. Each character, looking at the same exact painting, asks her if it’s crooked and she continually tells them No, that’s the way it’s supposed to be presented. Again, these four characters are so self-involved that their first inclination is that it’s the world that’s out of whack, not them.
In a class by himself is actor Jason Patric, who also produced this film. His character, a single friend of the others working in some capacity in the medical field, is so predatory, so vicious, that he seems completely able to sustain himself on only the misery and fear he causes in others. The fact that his victims are mostly of the opposite sex (but not always) makes him even more disturbing than Eckhart’s Chad in In The Company Of Men. In that film, LaBute’s first, Chad set out to destroy “only” one single woman as payback for all the wrongs he imagined females have perpetrated on men. But in this film, Patric is a vampire who seems to see the whole world as his for the taking. In one of the most chilling, most disgusting scenes I’ve seen in my 40 years, the three men sit in a steam room and tell each other of the best sex they ever had. That Patric’s story revolves around a homosexual rape and, even worse, obviously feels no remorse about it at all is something I wish I could remove from my memory. Forget all the monster movies you’ve ever seen, LaBute seems to be saying, the truest evil in this world can’t be found under the bed or in a closet in the dark but by simply asking someone if they’re free tonight; dealing with the opposite sex, and sex itself, makes monsters of us all.
This deadly intelligent and articulate film isn’t all perfect. Unlike In The Company’s double twist at the end, Your Friends And Neighbors doesn’t seem to know where to land at its conclusion. With no complicated or surprising plot machinations to mull over, one walks away from it dazed and weary. While there’s no fake happy ending, there’s no comeuppance for any of the characters, either. One assumes they’ll just go on as they have until they eventually implode from their own misbehavior. Aside from wanting to take a shower, I didn’t know quite what to do with myself after seeing it; it disturbed me that much.
Brilliant, but only for viewers with iron stomachs.
3.5*'s out of 4 (Very Good)
Over it’s brilliant opening credits, Your Friends And Neighbors reveals it’s intent and subject matter immediately and perfectly. Behind some staid Alex Katz paintings of highbrow cocktail party-attending professionals wearing pastel-colored suits plays Metellica’s Enter Sandman performed by a group using only four cellos. The piece’s classical nuance is, almost subliminally, subverted and made slightly disturbing by its underlying anarchy. Eventually, after we see how awful most of the cast treats each other, all is made clear: no amount of civility and usage of 35 cent words can ever hide souls as black as these. Yes friends, we’re back in writer/director Neil LaBute’s dark forest and even those who’ve already squirmed their way through his In The Company Of Men haven’t seen anything nearly as nihilistic, as condemning of our modern human condition as Your Friends And Neighbors (this movie, which contains no violence and almost no nudity, was originally given an NC-17 rating by the MPAA. On appeal, it was reduced to an R). And just as its title suggests, these monsters may only be a hair’s breadth away.
The film jokingly lists its six characters’ names in the final credits as Mary, Barry, Terri, Jerry, Cheri and Cary but no one in the film ever calls anyone by name (they don’t have nearly enough respect for each other to go to the bother). This nameless name-calling also lends the screenplay some hard-earned authenticity. It’s jarring to find yourself halfway through a film and still only able to identify the characters by description but it also sounds incredibly natural, it sounds real. Think of the last person you talked to. How many times did you have to say their name out loud? You didn’t because that’s only a theatrical device, a “helper” for the slower people in the audience.
One last clever gimmick employed in this film is that no one other than its six characters has any speaking roles whatsoever. No waiter ever asks for their order, no doorman offers a “Good day,” and no stranger ever approaches them asking for the time. These characters exist in a vacuum of their own discord. The input and opinions -- hell, the very existence of the entire outer world, is moot to them as they only believe that their gripes, their problems, their selves is the only thing that matters.
In a nutshell, the film is a simple sexual roundelay between six people, four of which are in a relationship. Aaron Eckhart (please Mr. LaBute, continue to cast this great actor in all of your films) and Amy Brenneman are married but they’re troubled by some unspoken tensions, some powerful undertow that keeps pulling them further and further apart. We know some things need fixing when Eckhart admits to a coworker fairly early on that he’d rather masturbate than have sex with another human. Reminds me of that old Woody Allen line “Don’t knock masturbation. It’s sex with someone I love,” but his admission clearly indicates either a loss or fear of intimacy.
Ben Stiller and Catherine Keener are lovers but seem to be disgusted by each other from their very first scene. And that they’re having sex in that first scene while openly displaying those feelings doesn’t bode well for their future. Frustrated in that relationship, Stiller initiates an affair with Brenneman but when their first rendezvous doesn’t turn out to be the joyous experience they both expected, tensions are ratcheted even higher and malicious endeavors are increased. Just halfway through the film, these people’s selfish and hateful attitudes are pulled so tight we almost fear that their intense inner anger could, when combined, tear the very planet apart.
Nastassja Kinski is the somewhat innocent outsider unlucky enough to get herself involved with this group. A gallery employee with the misfortune of meeting each of these art-loving psychopaths as they each separately peruse her museum supplies this film with one of its few honest laughs. Each character, looking at the same exact painting, asks her if it’s crooked and she continually tells them No, that’s the way it’s supposed to be presented. Again, these four characters are so self-involved that their first inclination is that it’s the world that’s out of whack, not them.
In a class by himself is actor Jason Patric, who also produced this film. His character, a single friend of the others working in some capacity in the medical field, is so predatory, so vicious, that he seems completely able to sustain himself on only the misery and fear he causes in others. The fact that his victims are mostly of the opposite sex (but not always) makes him even more disturbing than Eckhart’s Chad in In The Company Of Men. In that film, LaBute’s first, Chad set out to destroy “only” one single woman as payback for all the wrongs he imagined females have perpetrated on men. But in this film, Patric is a vampire who seems to see the whole world as his for the taking. In one of the most chilling, most disgusting scenes I’ve seen in my 40 years, the three men sit in a steam room and tell each other of the best sex they ever had. That Patric’s story revolves around a homosexual rape and, even worse, obviously feels no remorse about it at all is something I wish I could remove from my memory. Forget all the monster movies you’ve ever seen, LaBute seems to be saying, the truest evil in this world can’t be found under the bed or in a closet in the dark but by simply asking someone if they’re free tonight; dealing with the opposite sex, and sex itself, makes monsters of us all.
This deadly intelligent and articulate film isn’t all perfect. Unlike In The Company’s double twist at the end, Your Friends And Neighbors doesn’t seem to know where to land at its conclusion. With no complicated or surprising plot machinations to mull over, one walks away from it dazed and weary. While there’s no fake happy ending, there’s no comeuppance for any of the characters, either. One assumes they’ll just go on as they have until they eventually implode from their own misbehavior. Aside from wanting to take a shower, I didn’t know quite what to do with myself after seeing it; it disturbed me that much.
Brilliant, but only for viewers with iron stomachs.
3.5*'s out of 4 (Very Good)
Film Review: Lost Highway
Secrets Travel Fast
To this film's detractors who are accusing it of not making any sense, I ask: Except for one character inexplicably turning into another at two points in the film, what exactly don't you understand?
Fred Madison (Bill Pullman) is a sax player who doesn't trust his wife. She doesn't answer the phone when he calls from the club, is friends with unsavory pornographers and patronizes him during sex. To make matters worse, someone is leaving videotapes on their doorstep, someone who obviously has access to their house and likes to tape them while they sleep. When Renee is brutally murdered, all evidence points to Fred. Despite his claims of not remembering committing the crime, he's imprisoned and sentenced to death. In his cell one night, Fred transforms into teenager Pete Dayton which results in his release from prison. Back at work, Pete befriends local gangster Mr. Eddy and is slowly drawn into an affair with his lover Alice (who, wouldn't you know it, looks just like Renee). Is Pete destined to make the same mistakes as Fred or can he change his cosmic lot in life once and for all? Come to think of it, are Fred and Pete the same person? Is the Renee/Alice persona a spirit determined to haunt this one soul throughout all of time? Is any of this happening outside of Fred's mind? And what's the deal with the Mystery Man?
Director David Lynch has never been interested in merely telling a straightforward story and tends to lose his way when asked to; just check out Dune, the second season of Twin Peaks or it's film follow-up if you doubt that. Instead, he masterfully creates worlds in which explanation and reason exist just outside our peripheral vision. Like a great painter, his aim is to invoke pure emotion and then let the viewer interpret the work from there. I don't know what love is but, after listening to This Mortal Coil perform Song to the Siren over a key scene at the end of this film, I know what it sounds like. When was the last time a filmmaker gave such a gift?
One of the pleasures of the film is watching elements from Fred's world slowly creep into Pete's: A sax solo on the radio gives Pete a crippling headache, minor characters from one pop up in the other and mention the same locations, Mr. Eddy's offering of videotapes. And no discussion of this film would be complete without mention of the character referred to only as the Mystery Man (Robert Blake, eyebrow-less and in white Kabuki makeup). His first meeting with Fred early in the film is eerie, mysterious and refreshingly silly all at the same time. It's the high point of the film and instantly one of Lynch's best scenes to date.
This film's production values are all excellent. Gone are the cringe-inducing elements from Blue Velvet and Fire Walk with Me that us fans had such trouble defending him from. In fact, one would be hard pressed to label anything in this film gratuitous or exploitative and the restraint on display here suits Mr. Lynch just fine. Sure, there's still the occasional death by coffee table and throat slashing now and then but there's nothing here that isn't appropriate to the milieu. Considering how difficult the material is, all of the actors do excellent jobs. Specifically Gary Busey and Lucy Butler as Pete's parents, who manage to be clueless without being annoying, and Robert Loggia's Mr. Eddy, who manages to be monstrous without making the same over-the-top mistakes Dennis Hopper made in Blue Velvet. Sound-wise, Lynch continues to experiment and evolve. Yes, Angelo Badalamenti's beautifully lilting melodies can still be heard here and there but the majority of the soundtrack consists of Goth and Industrial with the occasional classic (Lou Reed's This Magic Moment) thrown in for good measure. One only has to listen to a few moments of the song over the opening credits (David Bowie's I'm Deranged) to get an idea of what exactly they're in for.
And as for the Fred-to-Pete transformation that has so many people crying foul: A psychogenic fugue is a mental condition in which a person completely forgets his past identity and replaces it with a brand new one. Also, in musical terms, a fugue is a piece that starts off one way, takes off in another direction and then returns back to it's original form. You figure it out...
To this film's detractors who are accusing it of not making any sense, I ask: Except for one character inexplicably turning into another at two points in the film, what exactly don't you understand?
Fred Madison (Bill Pullman) is a sax player who doesn't trust his wife. She doesn't answer the phone when he calls from the club, is friends with unsavory pornographers and patronizes him during sex. To make matters worse, someone is leaving videotapes on their doorstep, someone who obviously has access to their house and likes to tape them while they sleep. When Renee is brutally murdered, all evidence points to Fred. Despite his claims of not remembering committing the crime, he's imprisoned and sentenced to death. In his cell one night, Fred transforms into teenager Pete Dayton which results in his release from prison. Back at work, Pete befriends local gangster Mr. Eddy and is slowly drawn into an affair with his lover Alice (who, wouldn't you know it, looks just like Renee). Is Pete destined to make the same mistakes as Fred or can he change his cosmic lot in life once and for all? Come to think of it, are Fred and Pete the same person? Is the Renee/Alice persona a spirit determined to haunt this one soul throughout all of time? Is any of this happening outside of Fred's mind? And what's the deal with the Mystery Man?
Director David Lynch has never been interested in merely telling a straightforward story and tends to lose his way when asked to; just check out Dune, the second season of Twin Peaks or it's film follow-up if you doubt that. Instead, he masterfully creates worlds in which explanation and reason exist just outside our peripheral vision. Like a great painter, his aim is to invoke pure emotion and then let the viewer interpret the work from there. I don't know what love is but, after listening to This Mortal Coil perform Song to the Siren over a key scene at the end of this film, I know what it sounds like. When was the last time a filmmaker gave such a gift?
One of the pleasures of the film is watching elements from Fred's world slowly creep into Pete's: A sax solo on the radio gives Pete a crippling headache, minor characters from one pop up in the other and mention the same locations, Mr. Eddy's offering of videotapes. And no discussion of this film would be complete without mention of the character referred to only as the Mystery Man (Robert Blake, eyebrow-less and in white Kabuki makeup). His first meeting with Fred early in the film is eerie, mysterious and refreshingly silly all at the same time. It's the high point of the film and instantly one of Lynch's best scenes to date.
This film's production values are all excellent. Gone are the cringe-inducing elements from Blue Velvet and Fire Walk with Me that us fans had such trouble defending him from. In fact, one would be hard pressed to label anything in this film gratuitous or exploitative and the restraint on display here suits Mr. Lynch just fine. Sure, there's still the occasional death by coffee table and throat slashing now and then but there's nothing here that isn't appropriate to the milieu. Considering how difficult the material is, all of the actors do excellent jobs. Specifically Gary Busey and Lucy Butler as Pete's parents, who manage to be clueless without being annoying, and Robert Loggia's Mr. Eddy, who manages to be monstrous without making the same over-the-top mistakes Dennis Hopper made in Blue Velvet. Sound-wise, Lynch continues to experiment and evolve. Yes, Angelo Badalamenti's beautifully lilting melodies can still be heard here and there but the majority of the soundtrack consists of Goth and Industrial with the occasional classic (Lou Reed's This Magic Moment) thrown in for good measure. One only has to listen to a few moments of the song over the opening credits (David Bowie's I'm Deranged) to get an idea of what exactly they're in for.
And as for the Fred-to-Pete transformation that has so many people crying foul: A psychogenic fugue is a mental condition in which a person completely forgets his past identity and replaces it with a brand new one. Also, in musical terms, a fugue is a piece that starts off one way, takes off in another direction and then returns back to it's original form. You figure it out...
Obama to speak to gay rights group at fundraiser
Gays to Obama: When can we expect to be treated as equals?
Obama: I'm giving a speech to you guys tonight, I'll let you know then.
Gays: By the way, those domestic partner benefits for federal employees sucked.
Obama: Yeah, I know but I had to... make it look like I was doing *something* for you all.
Gays: Whatever.
Obama to speak to gay rights group at fundraiser
LA Times -- "Reporting from Washington - President Obama will speak tonight to the nation's largest gay advocacy group, on the eve of a major demonstration in the capital by activists who are irate at what they say is his failure to meet campaign promises to the gay community..."
Friday, October 9, 2009
What HAVE You Actually Done For Us Lately?
Lately, I've been plagued with this vague suspicion that things aren't really changing or improving as much as they could. Not regarding myself or my life, mind you; the suggestion that I've done absolutely nothing of meaning this year is a stone cold fact that I've completely accepted and am comfortable with. I'm talking about today's Nobel Peace Prize announcement and Obama's first ten months as a whole.
Now, since I don't feel like doing any actual work or research here, I'm just writing off the top of my head. Anyone that can fact-check this for me and leave corrections in the comments below would be much appreciated (I'd also like an "Obama Score Card" in Excel format when you get a chance).
Obama Cons:
* Didn't prosecute any of the Bush administration for war crimes.
* Does not wish to pursue or prosecute the people who ordered, okayed or performed the Gitmo torture.
* Will not close Gitmo by the promised January 2010 date.
* Has not repealed "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
* Health insurance benefits still not extended to gay partners.
* And that Health Care Reform thing where poor people no longer need to die for stupid reasons isn't looking too umm, healthy.
And now this Nobel Peace Prize win. The nominations deadline for this year's award was February 1st, when Obama hadn't been in office even two weeks. Even assuming they judged him on his work after the fact, you're still giving one of the world's most prestigious awards to someone based on promise and intent, not actual accomplishment. You know, kind of like how Hugh Jackman keeps getting nominated for Golden Globes.
Did Obama deserve this award more than Sima Samar, Dr. Denis Mukwege or the Handicap International and Cluster Munition Coalition? I dunno, you tell me.
There's a fine line between "full of promise" and "full of promises" and I don't think people are wrong to start being tougher on the guy and asking some hard questions, starting with "If not now then when?"
On the flip side, a quick trip to True / Slant suggests that "Obama has poured unprecedented funding into alternative energy ($15 billion) and alternative transportation, launched high-speed rail, exercised the power to declare carbon dioxide a pollutant, sought a low-emissions zone for 200 miles surrounding our coasts, enacted the toughest auto-emissions standards in U.S. history, and begun converting the auto industry to electric vehicle production. He’s preserved two million acres of wilderness and a thousand miles of rivers."
Again, I'm not double-checking any of that because well, I don't feel like it, but I do know for a fact that everyone agrees that Obama is a god damned ecco-warrior about this country's present habits and future and has enacted some amazing regulations this year. And I read that car law thing in Rolling Stone when Michael Moore was on the cover so I'm pretty sure at least that's true.
So paint me as still hopefully cautious for now but I'm going to start keeping a list of the things he reneges on and how the wording of his vows keep changing on the White House web site from here on out. So get to work, sir; there's still lots to do and we're going to be watching closer than ever during your sophomore year.
Now, since I don't feel like doing any actual work or research here, I'm just writing off the top of my head. Anyone that can fact-check this for me and leave corrections in the comments below would be much appreciated (I'd also like an "Obama Score Card" in Excel format when you get a chance).
Obama Cons:
* Didn't prosecute any of the Bush administration for war crimes.
* Does not wish to pursue or prosecute the people who ordered, okayed or performed the Gitmo torture.
* Will not close Gitmo by the promised January 2010 date.
* Has not repealed "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
* Health insurance benefits still not extended to gay partners.
* And that Health Care Reform thing where poor people no longer need to die for stupid reasons isn't looking too umm, healthy.
And now this Nobel Peace Prize win. The nominations deadline for this year's award was February 1st, when Obama hadn't been in office even two weeks. Even assuming they judged him on his work after the fact, you're still giving one of the world's most prestigious awards to someone based on promise and intent, not actual accomplishment. You know, kind of like how Hugh Jackman keeps getting nominated for Golden Globes.
Did Obama deserve this award more than Sima Samar, Dr. Denis Mukwege or the Handicap International and Cluster Munition Coalition? I dunno, you tell me.
There's a fine line between "full of promise" and "full of promises" and I don't think people are wrong to start being tougher on the guy and asking some hard questions, starting with "If not now then when?"
On the flip side, a quick trip to True / Slant suggests that "Obama has poured unprecedented funding into alternative energy ($15 billion) and alternative transportation, launched high-speed rail, exercised the power to declare carbon dioxide a pollutant, sought a low-emissions zone for 200 miles surrounding our coasts, enacted the toughest auto-emissions standards in U.S. history, and begun converting the auto industry to electric vehicle production. He’s preserved two million acres of wilderness and a thousand miles of rivers."
Again, I'm not double-checking any of that because well, I don't feel like it, but I do know for a fact that everyone agrees that Obama is a god damned ecco-warrior about this country's present habits and future and has enacted some amazing regulations this year. And I read that car law thing in Rolling Stone when Michael Moore was on the cover so I'm pretty sure at least that's true.
So paint me as still hopefully cautious for now but I'm going to start keeping a list of the things he reneges on and how the wording of his vows keep changing on the White House web site from here on out. So get to work, sir; there's still lots to do and we're going to be watching closer than ever during your sophomore year.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Frighteningly Appropriate Fall Films
Until I sign this off as complete, I am just thinking out loud here.
I'm not trying to make a standard SCARE list here. I want unusual, psychological, emotional, eerie, unnerving, wrenching or even just vids that celebrate that fall feeling. I will elaborate on this criteria as the week goes on...
No torture porn.
My Goal:31 films for 31 days of October. 100 films for 100 fall nights.
1) Good Old Fashioned Scares
Halloween (1978)
Suspiria
American Psycho
28 Days Later
Night of the Living Dead
Day of the Dead (1985)
Dawn of the Dead (2004)
Land of the Dead
The Wicker Man (1973)
The Haunting (1963)
The Fog (1980)
The Grudge (2004)
The Ring
The Omen (1976)
Ginger Snaps
Ginger Snaps II: Unleashed
The Mist
Cat People (1982)
Poltergeist
The Descent
House on a Haunted Hill (1959)
A Tale of Two Sisters
Jaws
Malice
3) Emotional / Psychological Torture
Seven
Shallow Grave
Blood Simple
The Hitcher (1986)
Hard Candy
A Clockwork Orange
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer
Funny Games
Blue Velvet
In The Company of Men
Your Friends and Neighbors
The Shining
Cujo
The Crow
Let the Right One In
Audition
Sisters
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)
Play Misty for Me
Dressed to Kill (1980)
The Minus Man
Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me
The Strangers
Antichrist
Mr. Brooks
Manhunter
The Silence of the Lambs
Hannibal
Red Dragon
Hannibal Rising
3) "Um, would you mind sleeping over tonight?"
The Vanishing (1988)
The Blair Witch Project
Eraserhead
Repulsion
The Others
Don't Look Now
The 6th Sense
The Orphanage
The Devil's Backbone
4) Hip Scary
Scream
Scream 2
The Lost Boys
The Craft
Jennifer's Body
Night of the Comet
5) Scary for Kids
The Witches
The Worst Witch
Bonus Suggestion:
Twin Peaks TV show (watch one ep a day during all of October)
I'm not trying to make a standard SCARE list here. I want unusual, psychological, emotional, eerie, unnerving, wrenching or even just vids that celebrate that fall feeling. I will elaborate on this criteria as the week goes on...
No torture porn.
My Goal:
1) Good Old Fashioned Scares
Halloween (1978)
Suspiria
American Psycho
28 Days Later
Night of the Living Dead
Day of the Dead (1985)
Dawn of the Dead (2004)
Land of the Dead
The Wicker Man (1973)
The Haunting (1963)
The Fog (1980)
The Grudge (2004)
The Ring
The Omen (1976)
Ginger Snaps
Ginger Snaps II: Unleashed
The Mist
Cat People (1982)
Poltergeist
The Descent
House on a Haunted Hill (1959)
A Tale of Two Sisters
Jaws
Malice
3) Emotional / Psychological Torture
Seven
Shallow Grave
Blood Simple
The Hitcher (1986)
Hard Candy
A Clockwork Orange
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer
Funny Games
Blue Velvet
In The Company of Men
Your Friends and Neighbors
The Shining
Cujo
The Crow
Let the Right One In
Audition
Sisters
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)
Play Misty for Me
Dressed to Kill (1980)
The Minus Man
Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me
The Strangers
Antichrist
Mr. Brooks
Manhunter
The Silence of the Lambs
Hannibal
Red Dragon
Hannibal Rising
3) "Um, would you mind sleeping over tonight?"
The Vanishing (1988)
The Blair Witch Project
Eraserhead
Repulsion
The Others
Don't Look Now
The 6th Sense
The Orphanage
The Devil's Backbone
4) Hip Scary
Scream
Scream 2
The Lost Boys
The Craft
Jennifer's Body
Night of the Comet
5) Scary for Kids
The Witches
The Worst Witch
Bonus Suggestion:
Twin Peaks TV show (watch one ep a day during all of October)
Thursday, October 1, 2009
At a Mamet Play, a Real-Life Story
At a Mamet Play, a Real-Life Story
I'll be there for the Oct. 17th show with "outgoing “Law & Order: Criminal Intent” star Kathryn Erbe."
Umm, who is Kathryn Erbe?
---
And when I tried to post this article link on Facebook, it rejected it and gave me this message:
"Warning: This Message Contains Blocked Content - Some content in this message has been reported as abusive by Facebook users."
Because you know, talking about art or plays or David Mamet is so fucking offensive.
I'll be there for the Oct. 17th show with "outgoing “Law & Order: Criminal Intent” star Kathryn Erbe."
Umm, who is Kathryn Erbe?
---
And when I tried to post this article link on Facebook, it rejected it and gave me this message:
"Warning: This Message Contains Blocked Content - Some content in this message has been reported as abusive by Facebook users."
Because you know, talking about art or plays or David Mamet is so fucking offensive.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Afraid of Fonts
What fonts worry you?
Book Antigua. Concealing millennia of madness and mayhem underneath that staid British-librarian surface.
Symbol. Mocking me in a dialect I’ll never understand.
Wingdings. Festive and jolly symbols I’ll never have reason or occasion to use:(
Arial. You can tell that beneath the seemingly normal exterior beats the cold black heart of a serial killer.
Arial Narrow. So repressed but never brave enough to come out of the closet.
Book Antigua. Concealing millennia of madness and mayhem underneath that staid British-librarian surface.
Symbol. Mocking me in a dialect I’ll never understand.
Wingdings. Festive and jolly symbols I’ll never have reason or occasion to use:(
Arial. You can tell that beneath the seemingly normal exterior beats the cold black heart of a serial killer.
Arial Narrow. So repressed but never brave enough to come out of the closet.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Anatomy Of A Joke
This morning, someone tells me that Pia Zadora was born in Hoboken, NJ but is disappointed at my lack of interest. Other than complete indifference or utter despair, what other response would be appropriate??
Discarded earlier versions of the line went something like:
...I had at that moment such a complete absence of thought or interest on the matter that I imagined at the moment that my current frame of mind was something akin to the negative anti-energy found at the center of a black hole.
...the fact created in me a momentary peaceful void that was so utterly lacking in thought or stimuli that for a moment I thought I had accidentally discovered some kind of ethereal Zen meditation technique.
It was getting late and I had to jump in the shower so I picked the one with the shortest words.
Marriage For No One
Just a thought: if we outlawed marriage for EVERYONE, how much would this country save in wedding and lawyer fees?
Without marriage, we would then demonstrate our undying love for each other in still profound but less expensive ways. With matching t-shirts, for instance. Or possibly branding.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Siskel & Ebert on YouTube
Once in a while, I stumble across something on the Internet that's such a perfect fit for the medium, just such an utter joy to lose oneself in, that I wonder if I'll ever move on to something else.
Siskel & Ebert reviews on YouTube, taken from their television show At the Movies, broken up into bite-sized film-by-film bits.
Siskel & Ebert reviews on YouTube, taken from their television show At the Movies, broken up into bite-sized film-by-film bits.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Non-Fiction: Movie City Boos
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such reprehensibly juvenile behavior by three “professionals” on a public blog as I did last Friday night.
The place was The Hot Blog, singlehandedly run by David Poland. Poland is a “Hollywood insider,” which in blogosphere terms means he doesn’t have the discipline or inclination to write a few film reviews each week but instead writes whenever and whatever he wants. Poland is a mostly innocuous writer not terribly concerned with proper grammar or spelling who during the past few years seems to drone on about only two subjects: how fellow blogger Nikki Finke’s dishonesty and low character are destroying the film industry and the minutiae of box office gross. Neither topic is very interesting to begin with and Poland’s uncreative presentation and his articles' 1,000+ word counts make them even less so.
It was Poland who initiated this Friday night fracas by posting a devastatingly distasteful joke about the recent death of DJ Adam Goldstein. VERY recent as the case may be as the joke was posted mere hours after his death was first announced at east coast supper time.
Not going to reprint the joke here because it sucked and Poland sucked for posting it. And his readers wasted no time in telling him so in that joke’s comments section. Poland began trying to defend himself at once with comments along the line of “The only reason this guy is a news story is who he slept with and a crash he survived. I don't have a lot of sympathy for people abusing drugs, f-ing it up, and then being treated like they were innocents.”
Then things got weird.
Hot Blog reader Joe Leydon asked “So David, I'm curious: At what point did you decide you needed to sink to Jeff Wells' level?”
For those not in the know, Jeffrey Wells is another Hollywood insider who runs his own film blog called 'Hollywood Elsewhere.' It’s similar to Poland’s site and covers much the same material but whereas Poland is just a lousy boring writer, Wells is quite batshit insane.
Wells is a misanthrope. That’s a pretty melodramatic word but there exists no better description of the guy. Unlike Poland, who has actually done something and created the film portal 'Movie City News' which now employs many writers, Wells hasn’t done much of anything these past fifteen years except bounce from job to job before finally opening his own site called 'Hollywood Elsewhere.' Wells is the kind of guy that will ask for donations for his site and then dive into his own readers’ comments and attack anyone questioning his tact in doing so. I remember one of Wells’ retorts as something along the lines of “They’re called 'donations,' asshole. Not 'asking for a hand-out.'”
Anyways, Jeffrey Wells hates people and frequently writes all kind of attacks on the people who harshed his mellow that day. Women, the overweight, slow NYC walkers, red state republicans, waterdogs, the foreigners who live above him and people who wear low thread count clothing are just some of the groups he’s taken aim at this year. Perhaps some of these attacks could have been amusing in a Seinfeld meets Andy Rooney kind of way if they didn’t drip with such venom.
Just last June, Jezebel.com ran a story criticizing a Wells' article entitled “Just Hot Enough” in which he stated "Life would be heavenly and rhapsodic if women had the personality and temperament of dogs -- forever loyal, non-judgmental, constantly affectionate." You get the idea what kind of guy he is.
So back to last Friday night at the Hot Blog. Leydon makes an offhand remark accusing Poland of sinking to Wells’ level and 10 hours later, Wells comes barreling over and posts a five ‘graph attack on Leydon. Somewhat humorously, Wells makes the mistake of double-posting his reply, making himself look more like an ass. Another reader picks apart Wells’ Leydon attack and Wells comes back for one more hateful reply that ends in “God, I hate internet scum.”
Back to the topic of Goldstein's death, the back and forth between Poland and his readers continued for a bit, with the majority of them basically asking "What's wrong with you" and Poland trying in vain to defend himself.
"Come on David... you're better than this."
~Mr. F.
"I will save my sad solemnity for people who have BEEN abused, like the little girl who was kidnapped, raped, and kept by a lunatic for over a decade."
~David Poland
"Wow-could you pick a bigger polar opposite to defend your point? You consider DJ AM to be a 'minor' celebrity, or you wouldn't dare post that poll. Would you ever have had a similar poll about Heath Ledger following his death?"
~Jack Walsh
"This is one of the stupidest, shallowest and most revealing things I've ever read on your blog, David."
~boltbucket
"At first, The Over-Reactors go all end-of-the-world on a crude, but topical joke... I can't defend this as the best or most sophisticated joke in the world. But it's not about DJ AM... it's about the media culture. Suddenly, this blog entry has turned into a Bruno conversation..."
~David Poland
~David Poland
Then film critic Glenn Kenny showed up and things just got surreal.
Kenny was one of the lead film critics for Premiere magazine and had, in my view, a pretty sterling reputation up until this incident. He's mostly just run his own film blog, Some Came Running, which is smaller, more niche and more personal than either of Wells and Poland's larger offerings, while contributing articles to other high class sites and magazines. Kenny recently received some acclaim for a small but pivotal role in Steven Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience.
And the first comment he made on this topic was mostly fine:
"Poland, your whole LIFE is a Bruno conversation. And remember, chief, DJ AM had parents...just like you. You tough-minded, call-it-like-you-see-it, ethics arbiter, and cheap (not to mention unoriginal) joke concocter, you."
Sort of snarky and kind of arrogant but basically echoing what most of the other readers had been telling Poland all along: You were WRONG. Poland immediately replies in an even nastier tone which then brings a reply from Kenny in which he attacks Poland's looks that was shocking in it's childishness and malice.
Kenny was one of the lead film critics for Premiere magazine and had, in my view, a pretty sterling reputation up until this incident. He's mostly just run his own film blog, Some Came Running, which is smaller, more niche and more personal than either of Wells and Poland's larger offerings, while contributing articles to other high class sites and magazines. Kenny recently received some acclaim for a small but pivotal role in Steven Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience.
And the first comment he made on this topic was mostly fine:
"Poland, your whole LIFE is a Bruno conversation. And remember, chief, DJ AM had parents...just like you. You tough-minded, call-it-like-you-see-it, ethics arbiter, and cheap (not to mention unoriginal) joke concocter, you."
Sort of snarky and kind of arrogant but basically echoing what most of the other readers had been telling Poland all along: You were WRONG. Poland immediately replies in an even nastier tone which then brings a reply from Kenny in which he attacks Poland's looks that was shocking in it's childishness and malice.
The threats between the two degenerated quickly into:
"...I just hope I never end up in the same room with you."
~Glenn Kenny
"Boo, mutherfucker. Boo hoo."
~Poland
"Just one thing: watch the way you throw around the word "motherfucker." Seriously."
~Kenny
Eventually, everyone got tired of the bullshit and drifted away but not before all three leads revealed their staggeringly low character. I can't even use the cliche of being drawn to a car wreck here. The whole thing was ugly and petty and I just wanted to get away.
At it's best, the Internet can bring people together, especially during times of grief. When director John Hughes died this past summer, Alison Byrne Fields shared a heartfelt personal experience she'd had with him and over 1,300 readers stopped by her blog in not only consolation for her loss but also to share how they themselves felt touched by the films Hughes had made.
On the night Poland's grudge match was taking place, there was an enormous outpouring of affection for Adam Goldstein on Twitter, both from the people that knew him intimately and others who were only close to someone who did. The comments I read there into that night were genuine and respectful and humane. People did love Adam Goldstein and felt great loss as a result of his passing but that sense would have been lost to you if you happened to be in the midst of the Hot Blog's shenanigans on that night. Instead, visitors and guests got to experience that host's rude jokes and an eventual shoving match between three industry "professionals" which diminished everyone that stood by and watched.
Disgusted. Deal-breaker. Game-changer. Bookmarks to all three sites deleted. And thanks guys, for lowering the bar on Internet writing everywhere. All three of you should be ashamed of yourself.
Anyone with further questions on why life would be easier if women behaved more like dogs can reach Jeffrey Wells on his current cell # at 310.279.7696. Your welcome.
CC: David Poland
CC: David Poland
CC: Jeffrey Wells
CC: Glenn Kenny
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