tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82717526895110697852024-03-14T03:11:04.436-05:00Lisa's Film Archive"Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops." - Cary Grant in Arsenic and Old Lace
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"A good reason for writing one's autobiography is that it may prevent some jerk from writing one's biography." - Preston Sturges
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"I find a woman's point of view much grander and finer than a man's." - Katharine HepburnLisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.comBlogger221125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-60506211355585786842010-02-21T22:45:00.007-06:002010-02-21T23:16:03.824-06:00Hail the Half-Blood Prince<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">Happy 64th birthday, Alan Rickman!</span></b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">I would call and leave you a message, but I think your answering machine is full:</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f6s6A1tsavo&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f6s6A1tsavo&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">Anyway, you rock, Professor. Way to make villainy oh-so-cool. And thank you for your first line in this clip, which may be my favorite line reading of all-time:</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YlIKLLkvulY&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YlIKLLkvulY&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">I love you, you sexy old man, you.</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-41147260603473277392010-01-18T14:57:00.009-06:002010-01-19T19:15:49.637-06:00Golden Gabbing<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">I was a total cinematic slacker in 2009. I admit it. But it was a really, really, really tough year for me. 2009, I'll see you in hell. Anyway, back to the matter at hand... I didn't see much last year, so maybe I have no business yakking about the Golden Globes and the fairness or unfairness of it all, but guess what? I'm going to shoot my mouth off regardless.</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">I don't know much about the workings of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, which is responsible for choosing the winners of the Golden Globes. What I do know is that it's a relatively small, "exclusive" (less than 100 members) group of foreign journalists who cover Hollywood for the rest of the world. These journalists/members are based out of the United States but write for foreign audiences, and they themselves are not native to the United States. I could be wrong about all of this, and please feel free to correct me if I am, but this is what I've gathered from my admittedly very rushed researching. For your consideration, here's a </span></b></span><a href="http://www.goldenglobes.org/hfpa_members/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">list</span></b></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"> of the members, the people you either want to praise or blame for the winners.</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">So, when it comes to movies, there are blockbusters, and there are...non-blockbusters. I know it might be over-simplifying, but that's essentially how it breaks down all year long. There are those that are made to make money and those that are made to win awards...sometimes, a movie does both and gets the audiences AND awards (<i>Titanic </i>and, apparently, <i>Avatar</i>). There's mainstream, and there's not. Just because something bombs at the box office doesn't automatically put it into the non-blockbuster category, though...if it looks like a blockbuster, clucks like a blockbuster...you get the picture. But just because something is artsy doesn't mean it can't also be mainstream, and just because something is mainstream doesn't mean it can't also be artsy. I kind of feel like I'm digging my own grave right now, so I'm going to try to stop babbling. (Sheesh, can you tell I haven't done this in awhile? Yikes...) In conclusion, the movies I'm calling non-blockbusters, in the context of this piece, are what I would consider typical awards fodder (generally end of the year releases, but not exclusively), stuff with substance that deserves to be seen but generally doesn't find the biggest audience or a ton of money, "the good stuff" if you want to be snotty, or independent or arthouse or whatever...basically, you're not going to find <i>Transformers 2</i> in this category. </span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">Now, all that being said, I don't ever remember there being such a distinct division between blockbusters and non-blockbusters at the Globes as there was this year. I've already been having a blast discussing this on various Facebook status messages (I LOVE talking about this stuff!), but it's especially fascinating and disconcerting this year. There's just such a rift. The 67th Annual Golden Globes was a total popularity contest. I know, I know, people are going to say that it's always a popularity contest, but I don't necessarily agree with that. My point is that it's painfully obvious this time around. If there was the option to go with a commercial choice, the Hollywood Foreign Press took it and ran with it. This is like high school; it could very well be an episode of <i>Glee</i>! Take the Best Actor in a Comedy/Musical category: there's the jock (Robert Downey, Jr., <i>Sherlock Holmes</i>), and then there's the geek (Michael Stuhlbarg, <i>A Serious Man</i>). On what planet would Michael Stuhlbarg NOT deserve this award? Well, this one, apparently, if you ask the HFPA. The cool kid won out. But really, doesn't it make sense when you think about who's voting? Would foreign, globally-conscious voters vote for the flashy Downey, Jr. in a holiday blockbuster or the seriously subtle Stuhlbarg in an under-the-radar gem? Hmm. Downey, Jr. is the more familiar choice, the safe choice and, I propose, the cowardly one.</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">But I never really thought about this or felt so cynical about it until this year. Have the members of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association been blinded by the bling? This show just seemed so glaringly commercial. I mean, I have a love/hate relationship with awards season (don't we all? We love to hate them!), and whether I agree with the winners or not, I have always LOVED watching the Globes (something about celebrities and booze...). It's maybe my favorite out of all the shows - I love the combination of film and television. Anyway, I feel like the Globes have gotten it right a LOT over the years, so I'm not going to let this year's show muck up its reputation overall. But yeesh...what happened tonight? Well, the box office owned it. The wins for Robert Downey, Jr., Sandra Bullock (I'm sure she's lovely in <i>The Blind Side</i>, but really?? Best Dramatic Actress over all those others?), <i>The Hangover</i>, and <i>Avatar </i>prove that. The box office told credibility and artistry to suck it. That may be a little harsh, but it's how I see it. Since <i>Avatar </i>is a global phenomenon, and the Globes promote, for lack of a better term, global-ness, it makes sense that <i>Avatar </i>won Best Motion Picture Drama. Why would the foreign press care about a film about the Iraq war (<i>The Hurt Locker</i>, which I would have called a lock to win)? Hollywood proper will care when it comes time for the Academy Awards. But globally? Nah. To put it simply, this year's Golden Globes ceremony was a slave to the box office. Or maybe whore is more apt...</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">Now, some other random thoughts on the show in a segment I'm calling "Things I learned from watching the 67th Annual Golden Globes" (I'm not going to list all the winners or nominees; for a comprehensive list, go </span></b></span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/features/rto/2010/globes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">here</span></b></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">):</span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Evidently, I need to start watching <i>Glee </i>and <i>Dexter</i>. I'm not being facetious either.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Neil Patrick Harris and Jane Krakowski talked about not being suited for drama because of their enormous foreheads...um, Quentin Tarantino's is still bigger. Than both combined. Sorry, guys.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I still hate the combo Musical/Comedy category. The only reason <i>Nine </i>got nominated is BECAUSE it's a musical - it certainly didn't deserve it otherwise. I think the "musical" label should be cut out completely, and musicals should be placed into whichever category is the most fitting, be it dramatic or comedic. <i>Nine </i>would be a drama. <i>Ray </i>was considered a musical, and thus Jamie Foxx robbed Paul Giamatti of his Golden Globe for <i>Sideways</i> because he was unfairly placed in the same category as Giamatti. Jamie Foxx's portrayal of Ray Charles is not a comedic/musical performance - it is dramatic. And just because the movie is about a singer and has songs in it, that doesn't make it a musical! See also: <i>Walk the Line</i>. At least <i>Nine </i>actually IS a musical, even though it's not a very good one. But where would the brilliant <i>Chicago </i>land - comedy or drama? It's a very dark comedy, certainly, but I would probably come down on the side of drama. Any thoughts on this?</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">If I'm going by the nominees for Best Comedy (or Musical - arg!), then 2009 was a very, very bland year for comedies. I guarantee you that no one would have even given <i>It's Complicated</i> or <i>Julie & Julia</i> a second thought, much less any nominations, if not for the prestige that Meryl Streep brings with her everywhere she goes. Don't get me wrong, I love her with a fiery passion, but they'll nominate anything she does. <i>Nine</i>, by default, had to be in this category, <i>(500) Days of Summer</i>, from what I hear, is worthy of its nomination, but is <i>The Hangover</i> really all that? What about the brilliant and hilarious <i>Zombieland</i>?</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Apparently, <i>The Hangover</i> IS all that, as it racked up yet another award - Best Motion Picture, Musical or Comedy. Well, okay then. I guess I have to see it.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The standard for nominated comedies seems to have plummeted. I can't imagine something like <i>The Hangover</i> being nominated any other year. Why wasn't <i>Superbad</i> nominated in its year? What, that was too low-brow for the Globes, but <i>The Hangover</i> isn't? No, I'm not bitter...</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Combining adapated and original screenplays into one category is stupid. And Quentin Tarantino should have won for <i>Inglourious Basterds</i>. Just saying.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Ricky Gervais rules. I especially liked his jab at Mel Gibson. While holding a beer, he introduced Gibson, "I like a drink as much as the next man...unless the next man is Mel Gibson." Ba-zing.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Alec Baldwin needs to go away and give someone else a turn (namely, Steve Carell).</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The more time that passes, the less I like <i>Up</i>.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The more often that ludicrously long subtitle to <i>Precious </i>pops up, the more ridiculous it sounds, and the more it, unfortunatly, hurts the credibility of the film. Let. it. go.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Mo'Nique's well-deserved win tonight brings her one step closer to the Oscar. She gave a beautiful speech, too.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Christoph Waltz's well-deserved win tonight brings HIM one step closer to the Oscar.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I love Colin Farrell more every day. His Best Actor (Musical/Comedy) Globe win last year for <i>In Bruges</i> was one of the most wonderful and unexpected surprises that the show has ever given me. It might just be my favorite Globe win of all time. Farrell was back tonight, as a past winner, to present an award. I don't remember exactly what was said verbatim, but Ricky Gervais talked about how film brings people together and shatters stereotypes, something like that. He solemnly segued, "One stereotype I hate is that all Irishmen are just drunk, swearing hellraisers." Without skipping a beat, Gervais promptly introduced Colin Farrell. Farrell came out and took it like a champ. He even hugged Gervais. He then said, in a playful sing-songy voice, "Oh, I once was a cliché." He continued, "I heard Ricky had specifically asked to introduce me, and I thought...'Oh, balls.'" It was glorious.</span></li></ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And finally, speaking of glorious, or inglourious to be precise...I absolutlely LOVE Christoph Waltz's thematic, custom-tailored-for-the-occasion acceptance speeches. It's really rather marvelous. The other night at the Critics' Choice Awards, he spoke of the series of "choices" that brought him to that moment and that award. Last night, at the Golden Globes, because it was a global award involving our whole planet, he went with an astronomical theme (and I don't mean "astronomical" in the sense of being huge, I mean it literally, as in pertaining to astronomy). Waltz talked about his "globe," being exposed to the gravitational forces of Quentin Tarantino, and being a part of the bigger constellation of this film...oh hell, just watch it, it's great:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/W--68X30ubA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/W--68X30ubA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I think his approach to these speeches is so adorable and totally refreshing. Most people just recycle the same thing over and over; Waltz is actually thoughtful enough to recognize and appreciate each honor in its own right by expressing his gratitude in terms of the award itself. I think that's just extraordinary. What a sweet, humble, gracious, beautiful man. Christoph Waltz, you're a hell of a guy, you deserve every bit of this, and I can't wait to hear what you do with your Oscar speech.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-59189927028195242022009-11-16T21:04:00.006-06:002010-01-27T01:52:55.381-06:00Blood Lust, Caution<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-vqVy10BW9Cjvyx2GuYYzMEMmLFbUF_C33OJxBtSsABoyoOaB06otwgzA8uxZz0Z_3dAdnTegE2AoIkxmQbiWhPjNmKjyQWMn08jToyZJJ4cbzHMoWofZaj42gJD3kXJtTfF5ucLM5DD/s1600/3240618820_8324753e06.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-vqVy10BW9Cjvyx2GuYYzMEMmLFbUF_C33OJxBtSsABoyoOaB06otwgzA8uxZz0Z_3dAdnTegE2AoIkxmQbiWhPjNmKjyQWMn08jToyZJJ4cbzHMoWofZaj42gJD3kXJtTfF5ucLM5DD/s400/3240618820_8324753e06.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404908027456491426" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>“So the lion fell in love with the lamb,” vampire Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) tells Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart). “What a stupid lamb,” the smitten Bella pants at him. Edward wryly and tenderly counters with a half-chuckle, “What a sick, masochistic lion.” Ladies and gentlemen, behold the wonderful awfulness of </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. Funny, I felt kind of stupid and masochistic for watching it. I always knew that I would watch it, though. I haven’t been consciously avoiding it (hmm, maybe I have been a little - I‘m a </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> girl, so I think there‘s a little spite there), but it took me awhile to get around to it. But what perfect timing! I took the plunge less than a week before the next installment hits theaters. I (masochistically, perhaps) signed up to review </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>New Moon</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> for a site I’ve been writing for, so this was my necessary homework. I mean, I’m sure I could have managed the sequel without seeing this one first, but alas, it was just my time for </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. It was just my time. I’m not going to lie or make excuses - I’ve been dying to see it. Part of me is always going to be a squealing teenage girl. I’ve been so curious about the phenomenon. Signing up to review </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>New Moon</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> was no accident; it was my motivation, my way in, at long last.</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> isn’t a great movie by any means. In fact, the more I think about it, the more glaring the problems become. In the moment, though, I enjoyed it quite a bit. For sheer, mindless entertainment - and let me stress the mindless part - it’s good stuff. Her mom wants to go on the road with her new husband, so Bella Swan, a high school junior, decides to leave Phoenix and go live with her dad in middle-of-nowhere Forks, Washington, a rainy, dreary place (ideal if you’re a vampire). The town is very small, so the new girl is exotic and instantly popular, even though Bella doesn’t particularly give people any real reason to like her. She’s pretty bland, actually, but I‘ll talk more about that later. Bella is intrigued by the independent Cullen clan, especially broodingly gorgeous Edward. You know from the instant she sees him that the two are destined to fall in love. They’re partnered up in biology class, but it seems like Edward can’t stand the smell of her. Bella thinks that she repulses him. It turns out that her scent was just too intoxicating to him. He craved her blood more than he had ever craved human blood before. She was irresistible to him; he even calls her “my own personal brand of heroin.” Insert eye roll here. Even after saving her life superhero-style (he has super-strength and super-speed), he insists that they stay away from each other, but of course, that’s not going to happen. She won’t let it.</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Bella is fascinated by Edward; he’s a mystery, and she needs to solve him. We know that Edward is a vampire, but it takes Bella about half of the two-hour running time to figure it out. Once it was out in the open, I enjoyed the movie a lot more. I just found their interactions much more interesting when they could talk about it. Overall, I think </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> is a bit long. It was a little too slow on the set-up, and since this is the first in a series, there’s a ton of set-up. Oh, before I forget, there’s a lot more going on plot-wise: Edward‘s vampire family (I found them delightful - they have some great scenes, including a very awkward, refreshingly unconventional, and funny dinner visit with Bella at their home), rival vampires who actually do kill humans (Edward’s family sustains on animal blood), Bella’s developing relationship with her estranged father, and Native Americans with an ancestral connection to wolves who have a legendary beef with Edward’s kind (one young man named Jacob, played by Taylor Lautner, is especially interested in Bella - cue impending love triangle!). The other plot elements aren’t superfluous, per se; it’s just that nothing else matters except the love story between Bella and Edward. Director Catherine Hardwicke doesn’t care about anything else, and consequently, neither do we. But it’s okay, because the swooning love story is the best part.</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>I haven’t read the books by Stephenie Meyer, and I’m not sure if I ever want to. I think the movies (yes, that’s plural - it’s a visual potato chip, you can’t watch just one) will be enough for me. I suspect that the books might make me want to throw things, that her flowery, seemingly aimless prose would grate on me. More importantly, I’m really angry with Meyer for wasting a critical opportunity to give the young masses a female character with strength and substance. There’s nothing strong or substantial about Bella whatsoever! Instead, Meyer has given young girls a simpering heroine whose identity is totally and inextricably linked with a man. Edward IS her identity. And he’s all protective of her, which sounds sweet, but it’s just his way to control her. He owns her, and she seems fine and dandy with being a possession. Bella also rather easily makes up her mind that she wants to become a vampire so that she can live forever with Edward. Is that all that she aspires to, really? Doesn’t she want anything else out of life? I know that not every book or movie has an obligation to be a shining beacon of powerful womandom, but come on, Bella is absolutely ridiculous. She’s weak and pitiful. And what makes the whole thing even more abominable is that this is a movie directed by a woman, written by a woman, and based on a book by a woman…tsk tsk, ladies. Way to represent. I feel sorry for all of the young girls who are undoubtedly looking up to Bella as a role model. They deserve better. Shame on you, Ms. Meyer. </b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Not only does Bella make me ashamed to be a woman, she’s not even interesting as a character. I don’t get why people like her, and I certainly don’t understand Edward’s instantaneous, undying devotion to her. What does she have to offer? What does she bring to the table? She’s totally devoid of personality, but she’s pretty, so therefore she has value, and everyone fawns all over her. Great message. I think Meyer and screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg have confused mopiness with depth. Seriously, why are we supposed to care about her? Edward doesn’t have much going on other than constant brooding and good looks either, but he’s not the protagonist, Bella is. Bella being so boring is unforgivable. Ugh. She kind of makes me sick.</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> and </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> don’t really have much in common, but they’re definitely compared, and it annoys me, because </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> doesn’t deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. They’re both global phenomenons aimed at a certain age group and dealing with the extraordinary (magic, vampires), but the similarities end there. I’ve always asserted rather emphatically that </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>, in whatever incarnation, is far superior to </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>, and after finally exposing myself to </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>, I was right. </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight </b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>is nothing compared to </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. For starters, the target demographic is obviously totally different. I can’t imagine many young males picking up a copy of </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. In fact, I don’t see many males reading </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> at all, no matter what age. Actually, I don’t even think </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> would appeal to women over a certain age (what that age is, exactly, I’m not sure - I’m a writer, not a sociologist). </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> is smut (tame smut, but smut nonetheless) for teenage girls. </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>, while maybe more popular with females and younger readers, is kind of a gender leveler that appeals to all ages. Also, with </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>, what you see is exactly what you get. There’s absolutely nothing else going on there, no subtext or deeper meaning, nothing at stake (ha, pun totally intended). And even though </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> takes place in a more fantastical world, the way the material is written in the books (J.K. Rowling is a genius/goddess) and approached in the films makes it feel relatable and real, way more than anything in </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. Both series also deal with growing up and the angst that process entails, but </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> does it far more successfully, with intuitiveness and intelligence and resonance. I could go on and on about this subject forever, possibly even in a thesis, so I have to stop myself now. In short: yay </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Harry Potter</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>, boo </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. </b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>As far as the filmmaking in </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> goes, it’s a mixed bag. The special effects are cringe-inducingly awful, pedestrian really, but the cool cinematography (cool as in lots of blue) by Elliot Davis is quite striking. The film has a gorgeous look to it, but the script is abysmally cheesy. Granted, I haven’t read the book, so I don’t know how much of it is simply adapted cheese versus organic (my gut tells me the onus falls primarily on Meyer). The score by frequent Coen-collaborator Carter Burwell (what are you doing, man?!) is ominously beautiful, but the directing by Catherine Hardwicke (capable of insight and greatness, i.e. </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Thirteen</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>) is negligible at best. The acting is decent but nothing terribly special. Some performances are definitely better than others. For instance, I found the supporting actors comprising the Cullen clan vibrant and engaging (especially the earnest Peter Facinelli and the spunky Ashley Greene). Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson…eh, what can I say? To be fair, they’re not required to do much except for heave at each other and brood, and I guess they do that well enough. They both have a strong presence, for sure, and they look good on screen, but that’s about it. I don’t foresee a whole lot of growth in their performances throughout the rest of the series, which is probably largely due to the fact that their characters are so glaringly one-note. Still, I don’t think these two young actors will be challenging themselves much here. It’s a shame, because I know both are capable of better, especially Stewart.</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>The vampire lore is so ludicrous. I thought vampires were supposed to burst into flames in the light, not sparkle like diamonds. It’s truly Vampire Lite. And for all of its smuttiness, </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> is actually pretty tame. There’s a lot of heavy breathing but very little follow-through. It’s all talk, all foreplay with no consummation. It’s really kind of juvenile. So…why did I like it so much?What’s wrong with me?! I’ve talked forever and a day about all of its problems, but when it comes down to it, I was really, really into </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. It got under my skin, deep, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I even dreamt about it! Logic be damned, I enjoyed the smut, the absurd melodrama, and the swooning romance. Oh, it’s so achingly, unabashedly romantic! I was enraptured by Bella and Edward, sucked in by the intensity of their heaving, whimpering, creepily dependent love. Stewart and Pattinson have smoldering chemistry, and it’s dizzying, hot even. And I never thought I would say this, but I thought Robert Pattinson was positively dreamy! I feel like I’ve gone into arrested development or something. As a woman, I’m affronted by its misogynistic, anti-feminist implications; as a person with a brain, I’m appalled by its idiocy. But so help me…I liked this silly, stupid movie…a lot. On some sick level, I might even love it. I feel like a hypocrite, and I kind of hate myself for it, but there it is. </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> is mesmerizing nonsense, the guiltiest of all guilty pleasures. I was intoxicated by it. </b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>I can’t wait to see the sequel. I need more. </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b> has become my own personal brand of heroin, I guess. In voice-over, Bella says about Edward, “I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.” Well, that’s how I feel about </b></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Twilight</b></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>. I’m in now…unconditionally and irrevocably. Sigh. What have I done?</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><b>Rating: ***1/2 (out of 5)</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#666666;"><b><br /></b></span></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-48139216395816100022009-10-07T15:46:00.018-05:002009-10-07T20:50:51.751-05:00Reviewland<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Over the past five months, I’ve seen a handful of films in theaters: <span style="font-style: italic;">Up</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">Public Enemies</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">Cold Souls</span>, and<span style="font-style: italic;"> Inglourious</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span style="font-style: italic;"> Basterds</span>. With each one, I was determined to make a comeba</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >ck. And then, one by one, they all faded away. It’s not that they </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >weren’t memorable (quite the contrary, actually); I just failed i</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >n my attempts at writing. Too much time passed, and I was con</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >vinced that the next film would be the one, and so on. Well, I’m not reviewing any of those films today. The film that has brought me back from the dead (so to speak, of course) is…drum roll, please…<span style="font-style: italic;">Zombieland</span>. My first review of a 2</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >009 release and my first blog post in over 6 months, and I’m talking about zombies? Go figure. As unexpected as this review is, though, I'm embracing it. </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >I don’t know why this film is the one, it just is. <span style="font-style: italic;">Zombieland </span>is a t</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >hrilling surprise. I thought I would like it and that it would be a lot of fun, but I had no idea just how phenomenal the experience would be.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfkhatApArp4hedcJb6OHSeE5ZdnflCMv959MCHNq-yggRyr-akw7pjGVxZD7eGWjnpHDw0SqOF_Dg_WzT-pQtloo_WMMD8B8IyRp0Rym7YbCyI778aFdXRpBnPdnMqZlj97cKtWCDf3c/s1600-h/6556_6014511098.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfkhatApArp4hedcJb6OHSeE5ZdnflCMv959MCHNq-yggRyr-akw7pjGVxZD7eGWjnpHDw0SqOF_Dg_WzT-pQtloo_WMMD8B8IyRp0Rym7YbCyI778aFdXRpBnPdnMqZlj97cKtWCDf3c/s400/6556_6014511098.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389967812451593154" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">Zombieland </span>is a fantastic film from start to finish. I would even call it a masterpiece. It’s so much more than just a zombie movie. In fact, I wouldn’t even put it in that genre. This is a coming-of-age comedy, and a witty, exhilarating one at that. The apocalyptic story centers around Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg), a college-aged loner with phobias and issues galore, as he survives in what he dubs “Zombieland.” Basically, humanity has been ravaged by a virus (some advanced form of Mad Cow, hilariously enough) that turns people into zombies. Columbus is one of the few humans left on the face of the earth, and he has survived this long because, well, he was never much of a people person to begin with, so it was easier for him to remain uninfected. He also has a set of rules that he follows obsessively (these include: “don’t be a hero" and “beware of bathrooms"). He meets up with Woody Harrelson’s Tallahassee, a zombie killing machine, and the resourceful Wichita and her little sister Little Rock (they‘re all given geographical names). The four of them become bonded together, reluctantly and inextricably.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />Everyone is on a quest for something (that‘s great screenwriting): Tallahassee wants to find a Twinkie and destroy as many zombies as possible (he has an understandable chip on his shoulder), Wichita wants to keep Little Rock safe and to bring her to an amusement park in California so that she can be a kid again, Little Rock wants to stick with her sister and go to said amusement park, and Columbus is initially searching for his parents and his home, but when he meets Wichita, he starts looking within himself and embarks on a journey of romantic/sexual awakening and self-discovery. They all find home in each other. Isn’t that sweet? I’m not being sarcastic either, I really mean it. <span style="font-style: italic;">Zombieland </span>is wonderfully sweet without ever being sappy.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />All sweetness aside, there is a TON of violence and blood in <span style="font-style: italic;">Zombieland</span>. It works as a parody of zombie flicks, as well as a zombie movie on its own terms. It’s uncompromisingly gory and unabashedly silly. The visual effects are astounding, from the zombies themselves to the stunts to Columbus’ rules intermittently popping up on the screen and moving around. Michael Bonvillain’s cinematography is gorgeously muted and at the same time vibrant and visceral. David Sardy’s score really got under my skin, in a really good way. It’s very insistent and powerful, and at times seriously beautiful, especially during the climax of the film. The only problem I have with it, actually, is that it isn’t available to the public to buy or download. That needs to be fixed immediately. The production design by Maher Ahmad and set decoration by Gene Serdena are exquisite. The world is so amazingly believable. I was especially blown away by the look of the amusement park. The running time is perfect; it doesn’t overstay its welcome, and it doesn’t waste any time getting into the story. Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick’s script is impeccably brilliant, and Ruben Fleischer’s direction is relaxed (he lets the actors explore their characters), yet purposeful and confident, with great flair. <span style="font-style: italic;">Zombieland </span>is pretty much the total package.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />The cast is incredible. I loved seeing Abigail Breslin holding Woody Harrelson at gunpoint and then later describing Hannah Montana to him. She really holds her own here and challenges herself by doing something different. I’ve been a fan of Emma Stone since Superbad, and I think she’s poised to become a big star. She has an ease about her that instantly elicits the viewer's empathy. And she’s a strong, kickass female presence. Her performance as Wichita is multi-faceted and memorable. Jesse Eisenberg is similar to Michael Cera in persona and acting style, I don’t think anyone will deny that, but Eisenberg is more likeable, doesn’t seem as needy, and has more going on than just the persona (I'm not sure that Cera does, though he does do his shtick extremely well). I think Eisenberg has significantly more depth and range than Cera. He’s adorably loveable as neurotic, geeky Columbus, and he has that quality that just makes you want to root for him. Even though this is totally an ensemble effort, Woody Harrelson stood out the most for me. He’s hot (really? did I just say that?), hilarious, and moving - he's just awesome. There’s also an epic cameo, but I’ll let you discover that on your own. *wink*</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><br /><br />I absolutely LOVED <span style="font-style: italic;">Zombieland</span>. I honestly can’t find a single thing that I didn’t like about it. It does exactly what it sets out to do. It’s funny as hell, smart, sweet, suspenseful, romantic, touching, exciting, exuberant, and emotionally engaging - it’s perfect. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Well played, <span style="font-style: italic;">Zombieland</span>. And thank you.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Rating: ***** (out of 5 stars)<br /><br /></span>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-91692567995630548552009-03-16T12:23:00.022-05:002009-03-16T14:11:08.480-05:00Question: Would a Rose by Any Other Name Smell as Sweet?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjwUHE7a9sCy4fXyVmEbmyFBFs2mxUG4Py-nDiroIfTuRLJD4DGDFHK0et_lNWOvBaJCEQefNjfyzurdBWRgZ67M5U8rjDnnLgbtQmlg6uRqXsRY-lQbtXfVwDaPfGSffpTBc7yrNiDby/s1600-h/sears%2520tower.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313858568877311410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjwUHE7a9sCy4fXyVmEbmyFBFs2mxUG4Py-nDiroIfTuRLJD4DGDFHK0et_lNWOvBaJCEQefNjfyzurdBWRgZ67M5U8rjDnnLgbtQmlg6uRqXsRY-lQbtXfVwDaPfGSffpTBc7yrNiDby/s320/sears%2520tower.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Answer: When the rose is an iconic building, no. No, no, no. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! NO!!!! No.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Le sigh.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Chicago is experiencing an identity crisis, courtesy of the egomaniacs at Willis Group. Who? Exactly. Our beloved Sears Tower is soon to become the Willis Tower. And I thought the British stopped colonizing a long time ago...</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I'm very much of the opinion of this editorial piece from the Daily Herald (originally </strong></span><a href="http://www.dailyherald.com/story/?id=279181"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>here</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>):</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>"Let this be a lesson to whomever buys Wrigley Field. The name matters.<br /></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Apparently, Willis Group Holdings of London thought they could just march across the pond and rename an iconic building and no one would notice or care.<br /></div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Granted, we in the Chicago area don't have as much history as England boasts, but, hey, three decades of calling the tallest building in the United States the Sears Tower means something to us.<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>'With the Sears Tower name having international cachet, you could argue that imposing a new name might be kind of cheeky on their part,' Tim Samuelson, Chicago's cultural historian, told The New York Times.<br /></div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Perhaps Willis should have done a little homework first and talked to some Chicagoans. Instead, their chief executive told the Chicago Tribune he was surprised at the uproar. And its spokesman told our reporter Jamie Sotonoff that 'This is a new day, and over time, Chicagoans may come to embrace the Willis name.'<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>We wouldn't count on it. And we wouldn't count on most of us ever calling the building anything but Sears Tower.<br /></div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>As Sotonoff detailed in a story Saturday, we cling to the name we know even when politicians or business execs try to foist new monikers on us.<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Granted, United had an easier time getting buy-in on the new United Center because the old Chicago Stadium was demolished. The same could have been said for U.S. Cellular Field, but even tearing down the old Comiskey Park has done nothing to get regular usage of the new name.<br /></div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Politicians think it's honorable to rename our tollways for politicians and do-gooders. And that's well and good. But the directionally challenged or those who like using numbers for their roads still are in the majority, so the Reagan Tollway, for example, is still the East-West Tollway or I-88 to most of us.<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>We know Willis has every right to rename the building. They paid $2 million for 140,000 square feet of office space for 500 employees and got the naming rights thrown in. Normally, that would be great news, especially in these trying times. And most of it is.<br /></div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>But as noted earlier, the name counts. Nothing against Macy's really, but it's still hard for many to embrace the store that took over Marshall Field's. That's probably not as evident in the stores Macy's built since they came to town, but it certainly is for the venerable department store building they took over on State Street.<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Macy's has had to spend a lot of money overcoming those obstacles in Chicago. But Willis, a global retail insurance broker, has no direct dealings with consumers. They have no image to build up. So why?<br /></div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>'It's ego,' Bob Killian, CEO of Chicago-based Killian Advertising, told Sotonoff.<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Yes, we can hear them denying that all the way from London: 'Whatchoo talkin' 'bout Willis,' they might say.<br /></div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br/></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Hmmm. We might say that too."</strong></span></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><br/></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"></span></strong></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313863474642832658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim6vy31cFOSPVpwhJuB58uawJFpajMvy79Jr7Kqy0-S-Tuwc8ydBIjeQN2caHF_21_H6JJTEUnTRdASwEdWmfRTDsDjhAvhL1_AIk4Q1Mc4HNWd4usYU32EYFtYoMJ501s4S0Oy7qgb-ds/s400/101_2145.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Step off, Willis. When you mess with Chicago, you mess with Chicagoans. We're bloody pissed. And not like you'd care, but our rich history is full of much more than just buildings...perhaps you've heard of Al Capone? I'm just saying...</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Readers, please help preserve Chicago's heritage and sign the petition at: </strong></span><a href="http://www.itsthesearstower.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>http://www.itsthesearstower.com/</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>.</strong></span></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-66478492328085260872009-03-12T14:00:00.009-05:002009-10-07T20:04:06.966-05:00Disorder of the Phoenix<p><object width="432" height="266"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uz-TeBocm20&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uz-TeBocm20&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="432" height="266"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><strong>Is it performance art? Is it mental illness and/or drug addiction? You decide!</strong></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><strong><br /></strong></span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><strong>Whatever it is...wow. I...I'm just...speechless. Holy hell, Joaquin...</strong></span></p><p><strong><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:Trebuchet MS;" ><br /></span></strong></p>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-72222053588670826232009-03-06T00:19:00.035-06:002010-07-15T18:18:22.349-05:00A Knight's Tale<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"I'm not good at future planning. I don't plan at all. I don't know what I'm doing tomorrow. I don't have a day planner and I don't have a diary. I completely live in the now, not in the past, not in the future.” - Heath Ledger</em><br /></span></strong></span></div><strong></strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><div align="left"><br />Hey folks, remember this? </div></strong><div align="left"><strong><br /></strong></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><div align="left"></div></strong><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309961371985873266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8LbX5eHLW2myqp5QHUWGFCSQiLllBClurq-Hemtf1USCY4YquY0w-_DbPjJVXeuI5CTZr1BuKPSpHvbkOKtGpP-6Pf8AZMYLIlWb6QeFmOLdkLZ6b5nUQlaygaWU-hns4aq47IV4oAi_/s400/101_2327.jpg" border="0" /><br />And then my full-blown homage for the midnight screening? (Taken in the bathroom by myself, thank you very much.)<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309961378603083698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixOitjtVA4_S-mirbOhK9X0SLi5b6gLnFXjDaA-foetCKNSgw9R0-sk2XX8R9Rz1WPAQfQkXxmfBhUioszF5Ea4fE81e8MijBDs2ZpRU3QTz-C_v7JweYBYqApOZpLWXknBBHTpE_u2YgN/s400/101_2350.JPG" border="0" /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5KuZgofGgyRWwfSzHajIiiQ_i3K5tevZekYfBCfJvIADPRlgiBUwRs3nNIB5U8Icwatioi5tuBqZogQZDCSu3p3FStanOgUFfwh7vYFr2lHL6WeGgP7AvqnYspdPiOBK9lmLryJ8DUlT/s1600-h/101_2361.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309961381726650594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5KuZgofGgyRWwfSzHajIiiQ_i3K5tevZekYfBCfJvIADPRlgiBUwRs3nNIB5U8Icwatioi5tuBqZogQZDCSu3p3FStanOgUFfwh7vYFr2lHL6WeGgP7AvqnYspdPiOBK9lmLryJ8DUlT/s400/101_2361.JPG" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br />Newcomers to my blog, that is me. Maybe it’s not the best first impression, but oh well. I embraced my inner freak in honor of Heath Ledger. This is me before the midnight screening of <em>The Dark Knight</em>, some time during the 11 p.m. hour on July 17, 2008. I was, surprisingly, one of very few people who dressed up or otherwise made themselves really visible in a crowd for the sake of the film. I was damn proud, though. And I looked good. In fact, I believe I was the only female with Joker make-up on at all. I was certainly the most drastic. How cool of a chick am I?<br /><br />It’s over 7 months later. In that time, <em>The Dark Knight</em> became the second highest-grossing film of all time and an instant classic (check its prestigious place on the IMDB Top 250), and Heath Ledger posthumously OWNED awards season, capping it off with his much-deserved Oscar on February 22nd (exactly 13 months from this death). And…we get to the heart of this ridiculous review postponement…literally. When I typed out Heath Ledger’s name, my heart skipped a beat, and it feels like a bunch of bats are flapping around in my stomach. I had to accept that he was really gone a long time ago. I did it in the form of a written tribute, which you can check out <a href="http://lisaonfilm.blogspot.com/2008/03/heath-ledger-unfinished-life-priceless.html">here</a>. It took me awhile to write that after he died, but nowhere near as long as it’s taken me to write this review. To write this review, I would have to face it all over again…rip off the still-fresh scab and mourn him once more in a major way. Every letter I type is a knife to my heart. Once you see how long this review is (and maybe that’s your warning to get out now if you’re not up for it), you’ll understand why my heart has more holes than Shia LaBeouf.<br /><br />I saw <em>The Dark Knight</em> a few times in theaters (once in IMAX - it was I-MAZING). No review. And then time passed. Well, it had to be totally fresh in my mind, so I wanted to wait until I could see it again before writing about it. I owed it to the film and to Heath. So, I waited until December, when it was released on DVD. I watched it again. No review. I saw more movies and didn’t believe I could write the review and do it justice until I sat down and watched it AGAIN. It continued this way for awhile. I wanted to watch it on the one year anniversary of Heath Ledger’s death, which, incidentally, was also the day he was nominated for an Oscar for his role in <em>The Dark Knight</em>. I thought it would be perfect to post my review that day. But it didn’t happen. At the very least, I wanted to post something, even just a picture of him and a few words saying how much we still missed him a year later, that he had never left my thoughts or my heart, to congratulate him on his achievement, and to thank him for being him. I couldn’t even do that. I couldn’t even put up a simple post. I regret it so much. I feel like I failed him. I’m sorry, Heath.<br /><br />I don’t know how many times I’ve seen <em>The Dark Knight</em> at this point. Almost ten maybe? Like Rachel Dawes and her legal briefs, I know this film backwards now. I kept insisting that I couldn’t write my review unless I had JUST watched it, so I was able to procrastinate for a long time. I really wasn’t doing it consciously. I sincerely believed that it couldn’t be done any other way. I still believe that my multiple viewings will help this review, but I probably could have done it just as well long ago. Who knows? It doesn’t matter. And I HAVE, incidentally, watched it recently (most of it anyway), just before the Oscars. I haven’t finished it, but you know what? I think I’m ready anyway…if the tears will only stay out of my eyes long enough. I was mainly re-watching it so that I could document Heath Ledger’s performance as vividly and with as much detail as he brought The Joker to life. But honestly, every second of Heath Ledger in <em>The Dark Knight</em> was indelibly burned into my very being on that first viewing at midnight over 7 months ago. Well, this one’s for you, Heath. Now, a deep breath, and here…we…go.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16jNywtjkU2zSrGvXAv84xBuJOqotMv3Cdow6HPekqTabf6QmsNt733vXFPKVxaMV71ZoI9SE184q4CJai08djIZ1SLe73Tn8FkR-4lJ8c3h2yxYXBHaHceMTXU8pwMBlLms4OnEL-FmC/s1600-h/thedarkknight_logo.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309961367633509954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 152px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16jNywtjkU2zSrGvXAv84xBuJOqotMv3Cdow6HPekqTabf6QmsNt733vXFPKVxaMV71ZoI9SE184q4CJai08djIZ1SLe73Tn8FkR-4lJ8c3h2yxYXBHaHceMTXU8pwMBlLms4OnEL-FmC/s400/thedarkknight_logo.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /><em>The Dark Knight</em> is not a “superhero movie”; it is a film drama that contains action and suspense and just happens to have a superhero in it. It is a transcendently perfect, and dare I say the only, example of the fusion of blockbuster and art. <em>Titanic</em> had the numbers but not really the elements of a blockbuster. <em>The Dark Knight</em> looks like a blockbuster, sounds like a blockbuster, and continues to have the success of a blockbuster, but it also has serious artistic credibility. You’re a wizard, Christopher Nolan. Tim and Joel who? Nolan’s Batman films are THE definitive Batman films, and <em>The Dark Knight</em> easily surpasses the didn’t-think-it-could-get-any-better superbness of <em>Batman Begins</em>. As for a third film…well, it will be hard for Nolan to top <em>The Dark Knight</em>, let me just put it that way. I don’t know if he should even try, but that’s a discussion for another time and place. In <em>The Dark Knight</em>, the stakes are higher. People and things matter, souls are bruised, damaged, and constantly at risk, and there’s enough pathos and neuroses to fill, nay, overflow Lake Michigan. It is worthy of what is perhaps my favorite adjective to describe a film. It is…wait for it…delicious.<br /><br />Initially, I thought the plot was unnecessarily convoluted and a tad boring. I am no longer of this opinion. When you see a midnight screening, or any packed screening but especially the midnight one, you have to be prepared to miss about 55% of the dialogue due to boisterous audience reaction. And it’s okay, it’s just part of an experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Usually, though, this necessitates a second viewing. If you care enough to see the midnight showing, you’re probably not just going to see the movie once in theaters anyway. <em>The Dark Knight</em> has a lot of dialogue that explains the plot, so if you miss a significant portion of it, you have a problem. You‘re bored, lost, or screwed. On that note, I have to congratulate Nolan and company, yet again, for making a blockbuster in which the story challenges you and rewards diligent watching. They so could have been lazy about it. The story could have been total crap, and the film would have made just as much money. I appreciate the effort so much, and with each subsequent viewing, I’ve only admired the story more and more. Everything clicks together in gloriously labyrinthine fashion.<br /><br />Since everyone has seen <em>The Dark Knight</em> (I heard Osama bin Laden got a Blu-Ray player just to watch this film) and given my description of the plot as “labyrinthine,” I’m going to do something that is against every fiber of my being as a critic and NOT summarize the plot. Stop it, nagging stomach monster! I just think my time is better utilized elsewhere in this review. The themes that are explored within the plot are epic, timeless, and rooted in the deepest literary traditions: good versus evil, sanity versus insanity, law versus anarchy, order versus chaos, morality (“Know your limits, Master Wayne”), corruption, greed, mortality, honor…just to name a few. I love how deep this film goes, and how brazenly it does so. See? It IS possible for a summer blockbuster to make you think.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG56TP1k2fuln5q9msxgdBYnfTB1LXHZDWtvQpgaep6SOY__1M7jyx0UMTe3blPCmJ1UxG436w0HwfJyfPPx2cwAxzG8cQo0hX7Nnp1ECZgPLlcx25_LekL8gghX9ABBVsXYeOlXwJm6qZ/s1600-h/darkknight_city.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309959844020222626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG56TP1k2fuln5q9msxgdBYnfTB1LXHZDWtvQpgaep6SOY__1M7jyx0UMTe3blPCmJ1UxG436w0HwfJyfPPx2cwAxzG8cQo0hX7Nnp1ECZgPLlcx25_LekL8gghX9ABBVsXYeOlXwJm6qZ/s400/darkknight_city.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br />I think Chicago is the greatest city in the world; the fact that it also doubles as Christopher Nolan’s Gotham City is simply icing on the cake. <em>The Dark Knight</em> utilizes Chicago to previously untapped awesome potential. I don’t think anyone has ever captured its essence on film better than Christopher Nolan. I practically burst with pride knowing that I can look at the film and go, “That’s MY city.” I recognize the landmarks. I’ve seen those views. I’ve been to those places. Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Gary Oldman, Aaron Eckhart, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Christopher Nolan…they were HERE. My feet have walked the same ground. I’ve probably stood in some of the very same spots. I remember stalking this one desolate shooting area a couple summers ago for HOURS, taking more laps than a NASCAR driver, waiting oh-so-hopefully for someone to emerge from a trailer, and being okay with it when no one did because I could feel them there. I was a part of it, even for the smallest moment in time. What a rush. Christopher Nolan, director of photography Wally Pfister, production designer Nathan Crowley, set decorator Peter Lando, and a team of art directors turned Chicago into a Gothic Gotham wonderland worthy of F.W. Murnau or the most Expressive Germans. Sweet home Chicago, baby.<br /><br />If the film didn’t look good enough already, check out the visual effects. The chase scene with The Joker (in a semi), Batman (in the Batmobile-turned-Batpod), and Harvey Dent (in an armored police truck) is one of the best action sequences ever. Period. It’s SO exciting and masterfully choreographed. The seamless blending of visual effects trickery and actual stunt work (That’s a real truck that flips over! And I KNOW that street!) is mind-blowing. This is the power of moviemaking, its ability to inspire awe and create magic. The truck flipping over and barreling down the street at the screen is the Lumière Brothers’ 1895 film <em>The Arrival of the Train: Redux</em>. You can witness the history of cinema unfolding as you watch <em>The Dark Knight</em>, and it’s thrilling.<br /><br />The editing looks effortless (though I know it couldn’t have been easy!), the sound design is impeccable (the sounds of Gotham penetrate the darkest recesses of your mind), the script by Christopher Nolan and his brother Jonathan Nolan (with story by Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer) is marvelous and should have been nominated for an Oscar, just like Christopher Nolan (especially) should have been for his directing. Let’s be real - <em>The Dark Knight</em> got the shaft at the Oscars (<em>The Lord of the Rings</em> but NOT <em>The Dark Knight</em>? Come on, people!). Christopher Nolan is present in every frame of the film, and his command of this massive project is nothing short of Herculean.<br /><br />For me, though, the most egregious Oscar snub against <em>The Dark Knight</em> was the random disqualification of Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard’s brilliant and innovative score from contention. It wasn’t even eligible to be nominated! I don’t know what stupid reason the Academy came up with this time, nor do I care. They’re idiots no matter what reason was given. This score should have been recognized. It’s dark, twisted, and ominous at times, heroic and soaring at others, and always a powerful driving force that is integral to the film’s overall success. The track they created as The Joker’s theme had to do Heath Ledger and his performance justice, and it does. Man, does it. Listen:</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-QjuEWsdgEc&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-QjuEWsdgEc&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />They got it so right. All of it. What magnificent work from two amazing composers.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2SrAnGZLS66yBZET8MbnLMQXgq1AbJ8iAN61yFpbwg_lYN8LNVKLdwrWUilCHSuOebRxNruA-_Bvn1ek1VCBYTuIU9kreFPr3LJkcwGDhc3cjLasAr5hEQmkoMBWKplIpjYCAGtIdmx7/s1600-h/heath_ledger2.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309959844266965410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2SrAnGZLS66yBZET8MbnLMQXgq1AbJ8iAN61yFpbwg_lYN8LNVKLdwrWUilCHSuOebRxNruA-_Bvn1ek1VCBYTuIU9kreFPr3LJkcwGDhc3cjLasAr5hEQmkoMBWKplIpjYCAGtIdmx7/s400/heath_ledger2.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br />Acting: the final piece of the astounding puzzle that is <em>The Dark Knight</em>. Now, I need to make it clear that Heath Ledger is the focus of this review. For me, it can’t be any other way. I apologize to the other cast members (main and supporting); this is not a slight on you by any means. This cast has electrifying chemistry and is one of the strongest and best ensembles of the year. I don’t want to dismiss the significance and brilliance (some more significant and brilliant than others, but I’ll get to that) of their performances. I’m sorry, but the enormity of Heath Ledger and his work as The Joker eclipses the cast, crew, and the entire film. That’s where I’m at with my review, and I honestly don’t think his “<em>Dark Knight</em> family,” as Gary Oldman called them, would have it any other way either.<br /><br />So, let me try to run through the other performances as non-dismissively as possible. Eric Roberts admirably and smarmily steps in for Tom Wilkinson as slick, charming mob boss Salvatore Maroni (Never fear, Mickey Rourke! Eric Roberts IS getting work!), Cillian Murphy (love him!) makes the psychotic most of his far-too-brief cameo as The Scarecrow. Maggie Gyllenhaal...ugh. You ARE the weakest link. Goodbye. Seriously, she sucks. She normally doesn’t, so I don’t get what happened here, but she really is terrible. Way to represent for the ladies, Mags. But Gotham is a man’s world, right? And I’m okay with that.<br /><br />I feel a bit sad for Christian Bale because I think Batman is sort of a thankless role. Don’t get me wrong, in Nolan’s films, Batman/Bruce Wayne is a trillion times better than the shmuck in the other movies (especially Michael Keaton - LORD, is that man dull…). He’s a compelling character, and we got really involved in his evolution in the stellar <em>Batman Begins</em> (an impressive origin story, indeed), but <em>The Dark Knight</em> is back to being all about the villains. It’s inevitable, perhaps. Anyway, Bale’s Batman is pissed all the time (after the release of his tantrum on the set of <em>Terminator: Salvation</em>, maybe it wasn‘t a stretch). He punches really hard and growls more than Clint Eastwood in <em>Gran Torino</em>. But his rage is palpable, ferocious, and utterly believable. He’s equally good when he’s self-doubting, tormented Bruce Wayne. Bale’s worthy of being called the Dark Knight.<br /><br />Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman are, well, Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman. They’re great, of course! Both are sassy and sincere in their roles. Caine brings such a dignified, compassionate, melancholy gravity to Alfred, and Freeman is commanding and noble as the smart as hell Lucius Fox. If I can be superficial for a moment (and I think I’ve done enough analysis to earn it!), could Aaron Eckhart BE any more good-looking? What a dreamboat. He has the most genuine, trustworthy face, and to play Harvey Dent, it's ALL about the face...right? The casting of Eckhart as Gotham’s White Knight is spot-on (I can’t see anyone else in the role). He can disarm you as soon as look at you (I mean, swoon! Who WOULDN’T believe in Harvey Dent?), but watch out when he dabbles with his dark side. He’s downright frightening (and he has to compete with Heath Ledger‘s terrifying-ness, so it‘s even more impressive). But Harvey struggles with his choices and morals, and Eckhart makes us care deeply about the character. Eckhart undergoes a startling transformation with Harvey Dent that is something to behold. His character has, without question, the biggest and most dramatic arc. Aaron Eckhart easily could have gotten nominated for Best Supporting Actor. He hasn’t gotten enough credit.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX6mXQgGZJuvRUNOLRJ1HtWBH-Zh7X_hg3vlaqjRj23jEJoB1u0HWjjozdlemzKdg24cmHlnLOBg-C9WJzp8ndlxLujpnBLKxRF1vlNi8tP45tg0UIBBVS5o6Wzo-rEGQnrv1i8h_ygQCv/s1600-h/darkknightoldman.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyhEDfNrTzseCEd_jOg0_47KIORZxiVO3SAKE7MwuK2A6P2p30isWDt-Z4cszz8Cmzqledkri72YZKRRYMsqoe3T64QCGzp_gJw6V5tMbSRMEmXyaoEwjfhYWiZ4dlumUBMJ-6-K8NF0C/s1600-h/darkknighthd.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></a></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2sliZkhatFYIqPlnKxWAB63E7uMna_jXUkXo_oSuIExJfBTbYVJ-12FyxxF5NsTOhC4cWgLqRBzA8u0E-wr-7jR7obvDX9d8e7L26PRgrFBQBV0rvyhk9SNvmNeYUvoOcal8hFfEqmGr/s1600-h/darkknightoldman.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309997477134596066" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2sliZkhatFYIqPlnKxWAB63E7uMna_jXUkXo_oSuIExJfBTbYVJ-12FyxxF5NsTOhC4cWgLqRBzA8u0E-wr-7jR7obvDX9d8e7L26PRgrFBQBV0rvyhk9SNvmNeYUvoOcal8hFfEqmGr/s200/darkknightoldman.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_DsLEbx6WlXr90gr1gLNiWXt5fnM5TsqilRaFbHtAIPEmiSKyJH_C3rMcKOX0h2reDyBeS4GuVYSuNroJjSYEnVQAhFIn3QzWNxfoKJIZTJj8xNuvo9D6K7ZlGYgPLNks3W7jIL5ast6/s1600-h/darkknighthd.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309997481363362162" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_DsLEbx6WlXr90gr1gLNiWXt5fnM5TsqilRaFbHtAIPEmiSKyJH_C3rMcKOX0h2reDyBeS4GuVYSuNroJjSYEnVQAhFIn3QzWNxfoKJIZTJj8xNuvo9D6K7ZlGYgPLNks3W7jIL5ast6/s200/darkknighthd.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Speaking of not getting enough credit, I want to hug Gary Oldman for his work in <em>The Dark Knight</em>. What he does with Jim Gordon is nothing short of a miracle. And he totally NAILS that Chicago accent. Oh, to hear him say, “Da Bears,” just one time… I adore him. Even more than Aaron Eckhart (marginally, though - it’s a tough call), Oldman does award-quality acting in this film. I would even argue that Gary Oldman SHOULD have gotten a nomination for Best Supporting Actor. He takes my breath away in <em>The Dark Knight</em>. He’s the ultimate good guy, but he's never a wimp. I totally agree with Peter Traver‘s assessment that he "is so skilled that he makes virtue exciting." He’s the film’s moral backbone and a pillar of strength every step of the way. Gary Oldman is so amazing that he makes me want to weep. Seriously. He infuses Gordon with such earnestness, integrity, and hope that he made my heart swell and actually did bring tears to my eyes. I just wish I could bottle Gary Oldman’s goodness in <em>The Dark Knight</em> and carry it around in my pocket. Is that creepy? I don’t care. He’s SO wonderful! Apparently, he’s that wonderful in real life, too: </strong></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sNy2vl7ZiqU&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sNy2vl7ZiqU&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />How moving and lovely. He rocks. Gary Oldman, will you marry me?<br /><br />I’m going to continue my unorthodox approach to this review by finishing the review of the film before the review as a whole is actually over. How’s that for labyrinthine? Basically, I want to conclude my thoughts on <em>The Dark Knight</em> as a film before I move on to Heath Ledger (gulp). Please, I don’t want this to be interpreted as me dismissing the film. I mean, go back and read, it’s all there! <em>The Dark Knight</em> is not one of the ten best films of all time (as IMDB users seem to think), nor is it even the best film of the year (although it’s up there). It is, however, the best superhero film/film about a superhero ever made, and a masterpiece in its own right. It lived up to the hype…and then some. Now that’s super. </strong></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></p><strong></strong><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH4J91qdSJS9n6cuw5ItvJt3Or2paXFxXh_57-j4z_AfCKNumvTw1SeG6id35k7Jx1eCl4v-I_O8xXrnhI2zc-sdEZkydsMUVLY_xc9ecauaEWrBtDQM9SR3wzcNOcaYO-M2VjnurCIONb/s1600-h/darkknight7.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309959072051851890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH4J91qdSJS9n6cuw5ItvJt3Or2paXFxXh_57-j4z_AfCKNumvTw1SeG6id35k7Jx1eCl4v-I_O8xXrnhI2zc-sdEZkydsMUVLY_xc9ecauaEWrBtDQM9SR3wzcNOcaYO-M2VjnurCIONb/s400/darkknight7.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br />Heath Ledger, it’s your turn now, sweet prince.<br /><br />I think this short clip of an interview done with Heath Ledger shortly before his death is a good starting point. I’m not sure why. It feels right. It’s about how his daughter changed his life and how he feels about death. He displays remarkable sensitivity and wisdom (far beyond his years), and it’s so eerily cryptic…it just blows me away.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tXhxzPaBi44&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tXhxzPaBi44&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Heath Ledger…sigh…cinema is in your debt forever. His Joker is already being hailed by many, and rightfully so, as the best movie villain of all time. Before Ledger redefined what a villain was, Anthony Hopkins’ Hannibal Lecter topped many lists (including the, um, illustrious AFI list of villains). Strike me down if you must, but I have always thought that <em>The</em> <em>Silence of the Lambs</em>, Hopkins, and the character of Hannibal Lecter were WILDLY overrated. The top 5 of the AFI list of best villains continues as follows: 2) Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates in <em>Psycho</em> (this is Heath’s time now, but let me just say that I could probably write a dissertation about the inaccuracies or, as Norman would say, “falsities,” of that categorization in which I would tear apart that haphazard, reductionist labeling of a character as complex as Norman Bates - ugh, you test me, AFI); 3) Darth Vader in <em>Star Wars</em> (I get that); 4) the ever-creepy Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch of the West in <em>The Wizard of Oz</em> (I TOTALLY get that, and so does my childhood); and 5) Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher) in <em>One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest</em> (meh, okay, but I wouldn’t put her that high).<br /><br />Here are a couple of the criteria that the AFI used when compiling their list: </strong></span><br /></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Cultural Impact: Characters who have a made a mark on American society in matters of style and substance. </strong></span></li><li><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Legacy: Characters who elicit strong reactions across time, enriching America's film heritage while continuing to inspire contemporary artists and audiences.<br /></strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Maybe Heath Ledger doesn’t have the longevity yet, but he will. In terms of cultural impact, well, he truly created a monster. Here’s what the AFI thinks of villainy: “For voting purposes, a ‘villain’ was defined as a character(s) whose wickedness of mind, selfishness of character and will to power are sometimes masked by beauty and nobility, while others may rage unmasked. They can be horribly evil or grandiosely funny, but are ultimately tragic.” Despite their grammatical ineptitude, I think they’ve got something there. The Joker’s wickedness of mind, selfishness of character, and will to power definitely rage unmasked. He is, at times, grandiosely funny, but ALWAYS horribly evil. Heath Ledger is mesmerizing and terrifying in <em>The Dark Knight</em>. Just like he owned awards season, he completely owns this film. He didn’t hold anything back with his performance, a performance that, ultimately, MAY have led, in some way, to his far-too-premature death. </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I figured now would be a good time to take a little breather (there's a lot coming up still) and listen to Heath talk about playing The Joker, in his own words. I love this clip so much. I think it's quite poignant, and I simply adore hearing and watching him talk.</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3FFJLCrs4ko&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3FFJLCrs4ko&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Before Heath Ledger died, people were already geeking out about his work in this film. This was a side of Heath Ledger that no one had EVER seen. You can say that about all of his work (and I love that), but this was a doozy. The first non-teaser trailer set the internet (and myself) ablaze with anticipation. Check it:</strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /><br /></strong></span></p><strong></strong></span><p><strong><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aT7lVb1VfH4&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aT7lVb1VfH4&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></strong></p><strong></strong></span><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I still have the urge to squeal with cinematic glee when I watch that. And I STILL get chills when Heath growls, “Come on, hit me!“ Soon after (god, so soon…too soon), he died, and expectations skyrocketed. His death shook pop culture to its core. <em>The Dark Knight</em> would now be, officially and unequivocally, the biggest movie event ever in the history of cinema. It was a phenomenon long before it was released, and now, 7 months later, phenomenon is too weak of a word to describe it. Honestly, I don’t know how things would be if Heath Ledger hadn’t died. I think about it a lot, even though I hate doing it. Would the movie still be as big? Not quite, I don’t think. Would he still have cleaned up during awards season, won the Oscar and, in fact, been the surest thing the Oscars have ever seen? I have to believe that the reaction to his work in this film would have been exactly the same. I have to believe in the raw purity and brilliance of his performance. He deserved the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. I don’t understand how anyone can say otherwise. It’s insanity. If you disagree, bring it. I’m ready for you. </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>There were some stunning performances this year, and I’m not going to pit Heath Ledger against the Best Actor contenders. It’s just not fair or productive. But in the broader scheme, in terms of impact on pop culture and cinema, 2008 belongs to Heath Ledger. He took us by storm, and oh, what a ride.</strong></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>This is so hard for me to write. If you want to get an idea of how hard, please read the <a href="http://lisaonfilm.blogspot.com/2008/03/heath-ledger-unfinished-life-priceless.html">tribute </a>I wrote to Heath Ledger a year ago. I have wrestled for seven long months with how I would write about his performance in <em>The Dark Knight</em>. I’m not ready to do it. To wrap it up. To close it. I’m actually about to cry right now, but I have to keep going. Ledger is the most primal of forces in this film. I’m a HUGE fan of <em>Buffy the Vampire Slayer</em> (the TV show), and in one season (fittingly, the last), Buffy must grapple with The First. The first what, you ask? The first EVIL ever, dating back to the beginning of time. THAT is Heath Ledger as The Joker. There is no good in this character. He is only evil and darkness. What guts Heath had to take it so far (sorry, calling him “Ledger” feels cold and weird). I’m so inadequate as a writer to describe his revolutionary work in <em>The Dark Knight</em>. This isn’t just faux-modesty; I really am. I can type and type until my fingers fall off, and I still wouldn’t come close to capturing his genius. And that’s what I fear I’m in danger of doing - typing forever. The best way to appreciate Heath Ledger as The Joker is to watch him as The Joker. Here are two clips that give you the glorious idea (I don’t want to give away too much for anyone who might not have seen it, otherwise I would TOTALLY be including a clip of the hospital scene, as well). The quality of these videos is not worthy of Heath’s talent, but it was unbelievably difficult to find embeddable clips from this film. Anyway, please watch them. They speak volumes. Plus, they’re two of the best acted and most intense scenes of this year or any other. </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>(Update, July 15, 2010: Since I posted this, these specific videos have been removed or disabled. I couldn't find an embeddable version of the first clip, so click <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=36a95X7NAAc">here </a>to watch it. The second clip can't be watched embedded, but if you click on it, it'll take you to YouTube to watch it. Do it!)</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5C0_jDBxJ8w&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5C0_jDBxJ8w&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />This is the kind of method power that would make even Marlon Brando stand up and cheer….or curl up on the floor and weep…or both. This is unparalleled acting. The depths he plumbs, the heights he climbs, from one moment to the next…it gives me goosebumps. Heath Ledger is unquestionably one of the greatest actors of this or any generation, but the potential he shows here makes my heart shatter. In my tribute, based on only the trailer, I said that he was acting out of every pore. It’s more than that; he’s acting out of every atom. Just look at these next two pictures and you can see it. From the core of his soul to the top of his head to the ends of his crazed hair follicles to the tips of his fingers and toes…he IS The Joker.</strong></span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309958575778267986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 295px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3bKuqqJOi-_V6X6xP6HGv66OqgU7j_kCuTcPQN3q3mUpkvUxjFZ1rSdTxp2W1gG7GDMCpFUXhF5dDxGL6Bfhjdzd1M7Y1R0jhS5ueUjnC_AmuaStPtQqxBIaFRC1avT4w0rNr2FrKEFS/s400/darkknightsuit.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYWD3Ns4JwIyxfXims21cgngmgXSRjQHpgo6kCzWO3Q8N1ePKxP38gHvuxsoMOvvcsnKM2fimwlm4sIwgalM6_EGZ5WsJ8Yqr8MMOrdMmiboFQoggo0uXGTICdISOB86ep0y3SRuUbj17v/s1600-h/darkknight.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309958579451130802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYWD3Ns4JwIyxfXims21cgngmgXSRjQHpgo6kCzWO3Q8N1ePKxP38gHvuxsoMOvvcsnKM2fimwlm4sIwgalM6_EGZ5WsJ8Yqr8MMOrdMmiboFQoggo0uXGTICdISOB86ep0y3SRuUbj17v/s400/darkknight.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br />The facial tics, the vocal inflections, his piercing eyes, the erratic mood swings plastered on his face along with the sloppy, devil-may-care make-up, the total disregard for sanity or goodness in every word and in every gesture, and the dazzling myriad of other things that comprise his acting IN ANY GIVEN SCENE, IN ANY SHOT…tell me he doesn’t deserve the Oscar. Go on. TELL ME. Sentimental, shmentimental! He EARNED that Oscar. Come on, hit me. I dare you. Ahem… Anyway, even though my heart continues to break for him, it also soars because I am so immensely proud of him. And that’s what I want to cling to - my overwhelming awe and pride, not my sorrow.<br /></strong></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309957473212018290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQ9v23qlewHpljH28h2wzIeZDOi0jBkmvOf20sGrxQEio64faJ2k2Me1da90rKO0yQsabryUCOFipzhPeyIDZyFzz_cI8drKNGq6U9W-aLcz6CFvUQ7h92HoE5VIMueMUSxQgokMsGAsC/s400/darkknight5.jpg" border="0" /><br />Heath Ledger still has one film coming out (hopefully), Terry Gilliam’s <em>The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus</em>, but he died before shooting was finished. <em>The Dark Knight</em>, then, is essentially Heath’s last role. I’m not dismissing his work in <em>Dr. Parnassus</em> AT ALL, so don’t mince words with me. You know what I mean. It’s unspeakably tragic that he died, but if he had to go, man…what a way to go out. To say that this is one of the greatest performances of all time (not just in cinema) is like saying that William Shakespeare kind of liked to write or that the <em>Harry Potter</em> franchise is a little popular or that people sort of need oxygen to live; it’s a gross understatement the likes of which my hyperbolically-inclined mind can’t even begin to fathom. His Joker is the stuff legends are made of, and even if his mortal light was extinguished painfully early, his star will continue to burn brightly as long as people watch movies (so, forever). He is a supernova, and he will be with us always. He is in my heart every second of every day. I’m sorry he wasn’t around to bask in the praise and accolades he so richly deserves. Somewhere, I know he’s been watching, and he is humbled and grateful. I imagine him looking down shyly, a small, sheepish, stunning grin on that gorgeous face. He might even jest, “Why so serious?” Because we miss you, Heath. I miss you and love you so much and can never thank you enough for enriching my life, the lives of so many others, and cinema. Alas, this has been my attempt. I did the best I could, and while I can’t ask for more than that, nothing will ever be enough to thank him. Even so, I want to say the words: Thank you, good sir. Thank you. And congratulations.<br /></strong></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Oh, and you didn't think I'd leave this clip out, did you?</strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong> </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><br/></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jrt2xoy5UHo">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jrt2xoy5UHo</a></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><strong>Heath, what would we do without you? I hate that we’ve had to find out. Why so serious? Because you…complete us. And like The Joker says to Batman, so I say to Heath Ledger: “You’ve changed things…forever.”</strong></span></strong></span></p><strong></strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>So, in honor of Heath Ledger, his little angel Matilda, who I know still feels his love every single day and who will be so proud of her daddy once she‘s old enough to understand, and this beautiful monster of a film called <em>The Dark Knight</em>, let’s put a smile on that face. Cheesy? Maybe. But how could I end this any other way?<br /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309957482233215570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZQb_EazdSFzh-ljePqwKfRnGfjfMiUf9p0DkRs8iYCWG0hoSDrxWtEGpSe6WLDhR_-ZIMq_mdjL7NWN5dChLRidgf0EQSBJARtxmXIG6ds_9CkgYd2Jqrf9RtLfqDoffpGbEQL_K_9MSt/s400/002614232990.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><em>The Dark Knight</em>: ***** (out of 5)<br />Heath Ledger: Priceless</strong></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309956289103386770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOGiypzfSQB7lidb0UKxHQwFKhTPZPl_S1vreAkzULaye8lNekxJplriugPl112sn_fO2m4jr-jwPucxwUM4QSEgsGUnNISOxZ9fanvOUp9BVoJt-m6rKivW4_r5J564NlGzlU58N0WAOB/s400/n32606314_31115263_9818.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309956285478255986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDq3n8-9mNH60bqGZX7wL2OE4f2e98f2UKjGj9n6KuANS3F45U51Q59UZmMN0c71mivxhk8XLSDVbVe98gYUIDf-keXlqxyAbmPn-SXNs9fnsXeMGuAbwzWq-sTM0Udo2raTfn_A3Tpm8E/s400/heath-ledger-matilda-rose.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309956295601397442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbPooqRYUWhpx6yZUrV-G0F-qeUF3D6rpgedXSa7qlXwqEkp0XbF9PdB87d9iz3-WetFOw0FASxvk1gjeNJ_M5P36QH6zcoy2GKPqWEt8ahiVSDVO8vAdQ-EYq1AIJSgXm-BDCwonToDO/s400/normal_0071pp.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309956290589031490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLzcvQbpiKWSmz4likDCIzxThL1-YkZZGFMu0qDHBqer534poIJv9vyUUm5DRyfxdJu-qiJQbg_JqwmfdJV7jAzlxUcEfO9Iifwl1GhI6yUpKOWbrQMfcFHG7yFPj23uNxWkQacRjfxhV/s400/normal_0054pn.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifICyKo985Oq7sH-a4kBqkFK2NF9MdWaeOMa9x_3W0dJEtXLnxvE4R_7TbhY0pwu76SiTrjEcFcyRPt1qr1bmdARoBQrq8ai18htOy9m6VEJaq-ZQKITW7_JsZ8nSQzeVIPX3VOhoB_7-X/s1600-h/normal_0108dw.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309957498012095762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 330px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifICyKo985Oq7sH-a4kBqkFK2NF9MdWaeOMa9x_3W0dJEtXLnxvE4R_7TbhY0pwu76SiTrjEcFcyRPt1qr1bmdARoBQrq8ai18htOy9m6VEJaq-ZQKITW7_JsZ8nSQzeVIPX3VOhoB_7-X/s400/normal_0108dw.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309957489993976162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMsS37qj9RgNHOnRLSoQSX8LWk3QahvmOl2MbdnGjnepDrWyAcQPSviMf7S57chyphenhyphenG47QSlcvFrYIYb3FSZ4GN8Dn2Uj1XE-aE6i39Gvh7GoR1gPnDMtKg-wTH_5_PVi4w1LGwgslIcYr6/s400/normal_10085_Heath_Ledger_by_Ben_Watts_nBs0001_122_526lo.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309957493326244050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDbZP8ypfHR56jI47UsTgylbXsnOKinqzlkPMQfn76UtkpaGt6NC5onNkaYsE3liAJKofCQekICKG1ay3Lr2KAMTkEe-zdYiws3SHuYrAIShJurPGiAEK1R0AwN_pjs9hxgNDT3I5useQY/s400/normal_0133ur.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309956277583745586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbSyjAF1h9OKROLjWhGaggop337_EnLoZrYauKqrO5lKTAOhOOtIdjk7gyYXlynkzReOCv-AzqbDwrcdAIfI_0pUMzD3QnSIqIxyFqF7rnz3aoUi2fki_yNj8u9Di3L3HgAMGQ8gozN90/s400/0000262767-18418L.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br/></strong></span></p>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-19473774464953500412009-03-02T07:09:00.009-06:002009-10-07T20:42:21.084-05:00Ocular Misadventures<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><strong>I've been looking for this clip online for SO long. Finding it was something that I desperately needed on this cold and lonely Monday morning in Chicago.</strong><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Check out the clip </span><a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);" href="http://www.funnyzombie.com/videos/Cartoon_Videos/Family_Guy_Willie_Black_Eye_Griffin">here</a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><strong>That...is...perfect. Thank you, <em>Family Guy</em>.</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><strong>P.S. "That's pie."</strong></span><br /></span>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-90151324166723652762009-02-24T22:12:00.014-06:002009-02-24T22:36:26.872-06:00Year of the Ram<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9fRN_3hz1qYWsXtiqqyC8eVuhGDFlpL_qrFPNDHocBpmTGnR3m9WjydN8ACFWVEUrNHcYpAXpJL2jmvb3_mnxPafh5Q7562uPPcdvNnat4aOzpwTx9C9baXrwtNUGKKGhwrTqzZELIYt/s1600-h/7525_3748251004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306583346009712546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9fRN_3hz1qYWsXtiqqyC8eVuhGDFlpL_qrFPNDHocBpmTGnR3m9WjydN8ACFWVEUrNHcYpAXpJL2jmvb3_mnxPafh5Q7562uPPcdvNnat4aOzpwTx9C9baXrwtNUGKKGhwrTqzZELIYt/s400/7525_3748251004.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">I don’t know why everyone is so surprised that Darren Aronofsky was able to make a subdued character study like <em>The Wrestler</em>. Is this so different from <em>Requiem for a Dream</em>? Not really. Think about it. They’re both about people, their addictions, loss, pain, regret, and loneliness. Okay, so his films are kind of depressing, but give me depressing, aesthetically innovative, and emotionally engaging over happy-go-lucky, artistically bankrupt, and forgettably vapid any day. If you have any semblance of a heart whatsoever, <em>The Wrestler</em> will break it. It will make you sad. This is a tough film. But it will also make you cheer: for the spirit of Randy “The Ram,” for Mickey Rourke’s glorious victory, and for the beauty of filmmaking at its finest. <em>The Wrestler</em> is a film that is not easy to shake. It’s easily one of the year’s very best. </span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><br /></div></span></strong><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">I came away from <em>The Wrestler</em> with a huge amount of respect and appreciation for professional wrestling. Aronofsky is so meticulous in his recreation of this world. The details are painstaking and fascinating. In fact, I’m not sure there IS another sports-based film that honors its subject so well. There is so much skill and planning involved, and the wrestlers are so dedicated to the sport and to each other. I was incredibly moved by the overwhelming sense of camaraderie that Aronofsky captures in the wrestling community.<br /></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><em><br /></em></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><em>The Wrestler</em> is the ultimate underdog film: it immortalizes the comeback of fallen and, arguably. past-his-prime actor Mickey Rourke playing (BEING) the comeback of fallen and past-his-prime wrestler Randy “The Ram” Robinson. I can’t think of another role that is so inspiringly autobiographical, or if one exists at all. Randy works weekdays at a grocery store and weekends in the ring. Even though he is still wrestling, and the other wrestlers respect and admire him tremendously, it’s clear that his time has past. 20 years ago, he was on top of the wrestling world. Now, he does shows, but he also appears at fluorescent-soaked, echo-y community centers for autograph signing sessions with a bunch of busted old-timers in which barely any fans attend (but those that do adore him - see why this film is so interesting?). He takes all the wrestling work he can, and while he still has skills, I wonder if he’s being included in these events partly out of pity.<br /><br /></div></span></strong><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Randy gets the chance of a lifetime when he is offered to headline a major upcoming wrestling bonanza in a re-match of his career-defining defeat of his arch-nemesis, The Ayatollah. Randy enthusiastically, and gratefully, accepts, but in the meantime, after a particularly brutal match involving a staple gun, Randy has a heart attack in the dressing room and requires bypass surgery. He wakes up in the hospital to his doctor telling him that his life is essentially over. His body, ravaged by steroid use and the very real blows in the ring for so long, just can’t wrestle anymore. Hopelessly alone, Randy seeks comfort in Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), a stripper at the club he frequents, and Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), the daughter he estranged. He gives up wrestling for as long as he can, but it’s in his blood. He fights the big fight at the end. How could he not? A lot of stuff, surprising and wonderful, happens in this film; I promise I’m not giving anything away. But just in case, I’m going to refrain from doing any more plot regurgitation so that I don’t ruin the purity of the experience for you. </span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Darren Aronofsky confounded many people with his incomprehensible-yet-beautiful film <em>The Fountain</em>, including myself. But with <em>The Wrestler</em>, he, like Rourke, is back on top. He is truly one of the greatest filmmakers we have and, I would wager, THE most visceral. Even if you don’t understand <em>The Fountain</em>, you feel it. Then there’s the wrenching <em>Requiem for a Dream</em>, an emotional anvil of a film, and one of the greatest masterpieces in cinematic history. God, I love this man. He brings such a visual vibrancy to this story. His style is bold and distinct, he constantly takes risks, and he never compromises his startling and unique vision. He uses the camera as a character to create a sense of claustrophobic isolation. There’s this authentic, documentary-style aura about the film that transcends aesthetics. You are an active part of this world. The aesthetics, though, are astounding: the gritty and gripping cinematography by Maryse Alberti, the powerfully naturalistic and humanistic writing by Robert Siegel, the intricate and essential sound design (Aronofsky utilizes sound as well as Paul Thomas Anderson), and the soul-piercing melancholia of Clint Mansell’s score…when you factor in the acting…it all adds up to perfection.<br /></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">So, let’s talk acting. WOW. Evan Rachel Wood is intensely moving as Randy’s daughter. She is one of the most gifted young actresses out there. Marisa Tomei should have won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. She is divine. Her performance is so brave. She’s an aging actress in Hollywood portraying an aging stripper that no one desires anymore. Talk about tough. This is one of the best women’s roles I’ve seen in years. Cassidy is such a strong, compassionate character, and the fearless way Tomei throws herself into this part is mind-boggling. She has to do all of these scenes nude or mostly nude (and she looks fabulous), playing a woman who is being rejected and humiliated by scum whose money she needs. That is some SERIOUS stuff. Women today are under more pressure than ever to maintain a certain (unrealistic) body image, and I admire Marisa Tomei more than I can express for doing such a beautiful job, for the confidence and class she exudes, and for exposing much more than just her body.</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Mickey Rourke. What can I say that could possibly be adequate? He’s officially back, and he IS this film. He is its throbbing, beating, bleeding heart. I could see his soul in that weary face. Like Tomei, he is brave and totally fearless. He is utterly unflinching in his commitment to this role. He’s so many different superlatives that there’s no point in me just rattling them off. They’re not good enough, even if they’re all true. The only word that I hope can come close to describing his work is “heroic.” It’s rare to care this much about a character…or an actor. Rourke IS “The Ram.” He’s so astonishingly real that I often felt physically uncomfortable, like I had to turn away from the excruciating loneliness and humiliation that he personifies so relentlessly. Mickey Rourke is primal; he almost looks like an animal. He's got this sexual aura, this rawness, that actually unnerved me at times. He's almost off-putting in the way he looks, but then he's also just a big, adorable teddy bear that I wanted to rock in my arms. I think I kind of fell in love with Mickey Rourke while watching <em>The Wrestler</em>. He made me weep with the beauty and genuineness of his performance. When Rourke enters the arena at the end for the big fight, I got chills all over that were so intense, it felt like my whole body was on fire. I can pay no higher compliment than that.<br /></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">I’m outraged that he didn’t win the Oscar. A great injustice has been done. Years from now, people will have forgotten all about Sean Penn in <em>Milk</em>, but future generations will always remember and cherish Mickey Rourke in <em>The Wrestler</em>. Perhaps that’s his real award, and the greater one at that.<br /><br /></div></span></strong><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Rating: ***** (out of 5)</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-56041955836004818252009-02-21T22:15:00.006-06:002009-02-21T22:25:16.646-06:00Thunder Blunder<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEaDVFzR_gMH7zr-ywKjmkyUv8PTVDqtAILDwEYZ1sVHDP-CQK7aIigG56by9Uhfx6gVZqybOsX065US-Ed7TMVRkDnN0H5VbfRiXw2y5TP_xdeTkpiE7k9Emzlrttkrd_0-jaPW894te/s1600-h/7670_7824743237.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305472151171086626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 285px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEaDVFzR_gMH7zr-ywKjmkyUv8PTVDqtAILDwEYZ1sVHDP-CQK7aIigG56by9Uhfx6gVZqybOsX065US-Ed7TMVRkDnN0H5VbfRiXw2y5TP_xdeTkpiE7k9Emzlrttkrd_0-jaPW894te/s400/7670_7824743237.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><em>Tropic Thunder</em> is a movie about a group of self-congratulatory assholes MADE by a group of self-congratulatory assholes. This alleged comedy has been nearly universally lauded by critics and audiences. Everyone seems to think it’s the funniest thing since a kick to the groin (which, by the way, is akin to the maturity level of this movie’s “humor”). Merely imitating, or imitating with a bit more raunch, is NOT satire. If you’re looking for a humorous skewering of the big-budget war movie, skip <em>Tropic Thunder</em>. I mean, skip it anyway, but see <em>Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse</em>, the documentary chronicling the making of <em>Apocalypse Now</em>. No, in all seriousness, <em>Tropic Thunder</em> is not the brilliant satire that everyone seems to think it is, and which IT thinks it is, and certainly its filmmakers and cast think it is. Ugh. Let me say this loud and clear: <em>Tropic Thunder</em> is NOT good, and it’s NOT funny. </strong></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><div><br />Honestly, this movie isn’t worth much of my time, so I’m going to rip off the critical band-aid as quickly as possible. <em>Tropic Thunder</em> is about the making of the making of the making of a war movie, or something like that. At any given point, it’s various levels of real for random characters. It gets old really fast. This painfully unironic macho fest (no, this is not just because I’m some man-hating feminist) is the immature mind ejaculation of writers Etan Cohen and Justin Theroux and writer/director Ben Stiller. The predominantly male cast includes: Ben Stiller (who is actually pretty good), Jack Black, Brandon T. Jackson, Robert Downey, Jr., Jay Baruchel (he‘s so annoying that I wanted to smack him), Nick Nolte (redefining “grizzled” and reprising his mug shot, though not unfunny), Danny McBride, Steve Coogan (wasted and irritating as Damien Cockburn - get it? teehee), Bill Hader (always funny), Matthew McConaughey (Ben Stiller’s character’s agent, goes by “Pecker” - oh, how droll), and Tom Cruise, who I will not say one snide word about, because he rocks this movie in surprising and unrecognizable fashion as chunky, angry, crude studio head Les Grossman.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So, it’s not all bad. I’ll make some concessions. The movie LOOKS good. It looks like it cost a lot of money, so that equals good, right? Sorry, that was snarky. It does look good. And the selection of music is pretty rocking. It was mildly funny and even very funny sporadically. Tugg Speedman (Stiller’s character) and <em>Simple Jack</em>? Hilarious. Tom Cruise is a RIOT. He should have gotten the Oscar nomination if anyone from this movie was to get one, and even then, no one deserved to get one. The cast is decent, some much better than others (Stiller, Cruise…um, thought there would be more…I guess Downey, Jr. and Black), but there are definitely some talented comedians here. However, they know it, and it’s obvious. I could appreciate the concept. I got where they were trying to go with it. And it did work occasionally. The experience wasn’t a totally miserable one. There were fleeting moments of brilliance (SO fleeting, though), which made me even more disappointed because I saw that it had potential. Too bad Stiller and company (I’m looking at you, RDJ) couldn’t put their egos aside for the greater good. They just think they’re really cool.<br /><br /></div><div>And come on, really? An Oscar nomination for Robert Downey, Jr.? Like that guy needs his head inflated any more. Yes, he’s a great actor, and yes, he’s really darn good here, but this performance is ultimately nothing. It’s not memorable or special. It’s cheap and wrings the hell out of a joke (Kirk Lazarus is SO method…how method is he? He’s so method that…you get the idea…GAG) that isn’t very funny to begin with. The whole movie feels that way. Everything is drawn out to the brink of insanity - MY insanity for having to endure it. Also, Jack Black is so randomly used in this movie as a heroin addict. I laughed at his scenes more out of disbelief than anything else. If all that wasn’t enough, the movie is too long, the pace is often agonizingly slow (like that insufferable climax), the narrative is disjointed, it’s one of the most self-indulgent things I’ve ever seen, and oh yeah, it’s NOT FUNNY.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The movie is a totally self-serving project. It left me completely unsatisfied. <em>Tropic Thunder</em> is impotent. Sorry, fellas.<br /><br /></div><div>Rating: ** (out of 5)</div><div><br /></strong></span></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-61559924789868758212009-02-21T14:43:00.006-06:002009-02-21T15:02:17.255-06:00A Tale of Two Men<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKD4ryLtfK93p6dWIJkEWhLKrIePiC7GCzLLxQUzBmJ-pVleOLDFARrJ3VkklVyFqtZMMnF3Ym_CFBbumbeao9ZtSI2ghTHY6e598-f9-xkqYNFz-6_l5ImHsB9FyfGw4eq1ElMSLALEhN/s1600-h/7013_5614272819.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305358182461253746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKD4ryLtfK93p6dWIJkEWhLKrIePiC7GCzLLxQUzBmJ-pVleOLDFARrJ3VkklVyFqtZMMnF3Ym_CFBbumbeao9ZtSI2ghTHY6e598-f9-xkqYNFz-6_l5ImHsB9FyfGw4eq1ElMSLALEhN/s400/7013_5614272819.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Just when you thought you had seen everything about Richard M. Nixon, along comes Ron Howard with <em>Frost/Nixon</em> making the subject all fresh and topical and, well, brilliant. I think <em>Frost/Nixon</em> is THE quintessential Nixon film. I scoffed when it was nominated for Best Picture, but I humbly retract. It deserves to be nominated. It’s probably the most solid piece of throwback filmmaking of 2008. When I say that, I mean that it’s just good old-fashioned storytelling of the highest order. There’s nothing particularly fancy about it; it’s just a well-made studio product. But don’t let that fool you - <em>Frost/Nixon</em> is one helluva film.</strong></span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>The decision to focus on the interviews between recently-disgraced Richard Nixon (Frank Langella) and desperately-seeking-fame British talk show host David Frost (Michael Sheen) was a stroke of genius, both on the part of screenwriter Peter Morgan (who adapted his own stage play, which had also starred Langella and Sheen) and Ron Howard. I don’t know about the general public, or at least my generation, but I didn’t know these interviews existed before this film. </strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /> </div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>There were four televised interviews that took place in 1977 between these two psychically similar (the connection is gloriously Shakespearean) men, both with nothing and everything to lose. Richard Nixon had just resigned the Presidency after the shame of Watergate. After he received a full pardon from Gerald Ford, people were outraged. He had gotten away with it on a legal level, and on a moral level, he slickly never admitted fault. David Frost, a British talk show host who had fallen from grace in his own way (his career was floundering; he longed for his former fame in the U.S.), marveled at the ratings for Nixon’s resignation and decided that he could revive his career by doing an in-depth interview with Richard Nixon. His producer, and most everyone else, thought he was insane. What could he, a mere “performer,” do? No one took him seriously, not even his inner circle. He didn’t have the chops or the credibility to get this project going.<br /><br /></div></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>And yet, somehow he did, hiding his struggles beneath a trained emcee’s gleaming smile, raising the funds at any cost, using his own money, never knowing if the interviews would ever be aired and all of his efforts would be for naught. He would have been worse off than ever had these interviews failed. David Frost wanted to elicit a confession from Tricky Dick. Richard Nixon wanted to set the record straight, to remind people that more happened during his administration than Watergate, to regain the public’s acceptance and to enter political life again. These interviews with Frost were viewed by him and his camp to be nothing more than fluff, an easy opportunity to get back into the limelight. It was a chance, the last chance, for both men. That's good drama.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>The Nixon in this film is unlike any other portrayal of Nixon I have ever seen. Frank Langella plays him as half god/half mortal, a smooth operator, very powerful and intelligent and charming and funny, but also as someone who is deeply bitter and full of pain, anger, regret, and guilt. I just couldn’t believe how much I liked Richard Nixon when I was watching it. I was almost cheering for him. Both men are sort of equal parts relatable and pitiable, which makes the experience so rich. You can identify with them, and I did. The parallels between the two men are striking. It seems like their livelihoods are almost inextricably linked. They’re inversely proportionate: as one rises, the other falls, and that’s the only way it can be. This is a duel to the death. And it’s so thrilling to watch! I was riveted the entire time. It’s epically engaging.<br /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><br /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I’m not quite sure why, but <em>Frost/Nixon</em> reminds me a lot of one of my favorite movies ever, Howard Hawks’ fast-talking <em>His Girl Friday</em> (1939). I think it’s the really great balance between humor and tragedy, and the frank tone. I just love it.<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><em>Frost/Nixon</em> is the perfect example of how a good script serves the film, the story, its characters, and its actors. <em>Milk</em> could have been this good, maybe, with a better script. Peter Morgan’s witty and insightful script for <em>Frost/Nixon</em> is nothing short of astounding. It brings you inside the minds of these men like few things I’ve ever seen. Sean Penn can only do so much work on his own, you know? With <em>Frost/Nixon</em>, EVERYTHING comes together, and it’s spectacular.<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>The acting in <em>Frost/Nixon</em> is universally amazing, from the supporting cast (Kevin Bacon, Sam Rockwell, Oliver Platt, an underused Rebecca Hall) to the main giants (Sheen and Langella). Michael Sheen has gotten a bum rap with this film. His fantastic performance has been so overlooked that it’s ridiculous. He makes smarminess seem genuine, and he guides his character through a remarkable arc that is always believable. His face is an ever-changing canvas of emotion and likeable humanity.<br /></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>And speaking of canvases of emotion, Frank Langella is like Leonardo da Vinci, and his face the <em>Mona Lisa</em>. Holy crap is he good in this film! It’s unreal. His Oscar nomination was a given. I actually think, at this point, that he should take home the trophy. I have to see a couple performances still, but it’s going to be damn hard to top him. He’s in a league of his own. The turning point in the film is a killer scene in which Nixon makes a late night phone call to Frost. He’s a little drunk with a lot of candor. We know that these are Nixon’s deepest-buried feelings. Every word Langella utters of what is basically a ten minute monologue is palpable and rich. It’s one of the best acted scenes in the history of cinema. Frank Langella practically redefines nuance with this role.<br /></div></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>There’s a moment near the end of the film, in the last interview, when Frost asks Nixon about the American people, and before he answers, there’s about twenty seconds of silence as we stare into Langella’s face in close-up….it’s like we’re looking into Nixon’s very soul. Watching his face in those moments of silence, I actually got chills. There is so much going on that we can read his subtle and skillful face like a map. <em>Frost/Nixon</em> made me want to bow down in awe of Frank Langella. It’s a mind-blowing performance for the ages.<br /></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><em>Frost/Nixon</em>: the little movie that could…and did. Outstanding.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Rating: ***** (out of 5)</strong></span></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong></div></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-32535218900842458042009-02-19T19:43:00.007-06:002009-10-07T20:40:20.350-05:00I dropped a Peanut M&M, and it rolled over here...<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><strong>I love you, Christian Bale, but this is too funny. And you,<em> Family Guy</em>, you complete me.</strong></span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PcEsII0vlRI&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PcEsII0vlRI&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br/>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-48710946726592974922009-02-14T20:44:00.003-06:002009-02-14T21:07:44.415-06:00A Sunshine Valentine<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>For as sensitive as I am, you'd think I'd be more into Valentine's Day. I'm not terribly, and yet somehow, I find myself brimming with romantic sentiment. Shrug, I say. Shrug.<br /><br />I can solve a bit of the mystery, as I know I was definitely inspired by the lovely Missa's cinematically-inclined V-Day <a href="http://thriftcandy.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-valentines-day.html">shout-out </a>on her amazing <a href="http://thriftcandy.blogspot.com/">blog</a>. It doesn't get much more real, beautiful, or romantic than Jesse and Celine in <em>Before Sunrise</em>/<em>Before Sunset</em>.<br /><br />And speaking of real, beautiful, and romantic, it just doesn't get any better than Joel and Clementine in <em>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</em>. This is the film that immediately popped into my head after the wheels o' love were set a-spinnin' after seeing the clip of <em>Before Sunrise</em>. Joel and Clementine...swoon.</strong></span><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tKN0VFCZB9w&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tKN0VFCZB9w&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Happy Valentine's Day, my lovelies.</span></strong>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-20129767806527096672009-02-12T10:06:00.012-06:002009-02-16T20:29:44.596-06:00War, Tarantino-Style<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>We finally got our first look at Quentin Tarantino's war epic (four words I never thought I'd string together, but hey, why not?),<em> Inglourious Basterds</em>. It looks like so much campy fun. <em>Saving Private Ryan</em>, it is not, but war often gets taken too seriously in films. To me, <em>Inglourious Basterds</em> (the snobby speller in me cringes every time I type that title, but I sort of dig the unconventional spelling in this case) is reminiscent of Paul Verhoeven's campy, brilliant, and emotionally engaging <em>Black Book</em>, which I absolutely adore. I'm not sure how emotionally engaging <em>Basterds</em> will be, but I'm hoping it's a true return to form for the egomaniacal auteur, meaning that we will actually care about the characters doing the nutty things, unlike the vapid <em>Death Proof</em>. So, bring it on, I say!<br /><br />Kudos to Tarantino for having the longest teaser trailer ever, clocking it at almost 1:45. The more I watch it, the more intrigued I get. I feel the cinematic adrenaline rushing through my body. To put it simply, it looks seriously badass. And oh, Brad Pitt, how do I love thee? He gets better all the time. This, for sure, is going to be the iconic performance that Coen-lite <em>Burn After Reading</em> should have been for him. Brad Pitt is going to end up being known as one of the greatest actors of all time by the end of his career. You'll see.<br /><br />Anyway, the trailer:<br /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><p align="center"><object height="270" width="440"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pel3GE97evA&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pel3GE97evA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="440" height="270"></embed></object></p><p align="left"><br /></p><p align="left">You've got Eli Roth, Ryan from <em>The Office</em> (B.J. Novak), the only<em> Freaks and Geeks</em> alum yet to make it big (Samm Levine), Brad Pitt rocking a 'stache and a redneck accent (and still looking damn good, may I add) while delivering this killer monologue and OWNING the entire 1 minute and 43 seconds, Nazis, Hitler (in a hilarious trailer cameo), war, and violence galore.<br /><br />I'm not sure how it will all add up, but I eagerly and glouriously await the final result. Quentin Tarantino, you basterd, you. </p><p align="left"><br /></strong></span></p></span>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-79479056362393836382009-02-10T12:07:00.009-06:002009-02-12T11:35:56.586-06:00Grindhouse/Dollhouse<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I hope everyone is getting pumped up for Joss Whedon's new show, <em>Dollhouse</em>, starring long-time muse Eliza Dushku and premiering Friday the 13th on Fox at 8 pm central. I know I sound like a TV promo, but a new Whedon project is like nerd crack. And as Joss Whedon is a muse of MINE, I owe it to him to do my part to get the word out.<br /><br />I don't want to jinx the show, but I have a bad feeling about the decision to air it on Friday night (TV wasteland) after the already-struggling <em>Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles</em>. In fact, I'm surprised you can't already pre-order the DVD set with all of the unaired episodes. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>However, I feel hopeful as I am LOVING the new grindhouse-y ad campaign. I think whoever thought it up (I'm betting Joss had a hand in it) really knows and understands the target audience. It's spot-on.<br /><br />They're going with the "double bill of hot babes" angle, and it rocks. Check it out:<br /><br /><object height="270" width="440"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OinD4UZgZaM&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OinD4UZgZaM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="440" height="270"></embed></object><br /><br />Brilliant. Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino would be proud (though the commercial is already better than Tarantino's <em>Death Proof</em>...).</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Support Joss Whedon. Please watch <em>Dollhouse</em>. Let's give it a fighting, ass-kicking chance.</strong></span>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-10823101945242915142009-01-26T02:07:00.016-06:002010-04-17T05:24:59.386-05:00Old Car, Old Star<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvG908yJUwdfrZjR0Zj8tds6g4jl5IZD2-N66eixvY1jR36KzaSma0b2guCbHQetfmsZtmoEMCaMbUM6WIoPlIzRPtz_YmNCkpMSsKDXatAaZy9Sl6t1UgVK4BGKSgPnpi0KxxMaXBSnPo/s1600-h/8492_4671397993.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295513417113227538" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 214px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvG908yJUwdfrZjR0Zj8tds6g4jl5IZD2-N66eixvY1jR36KzaSma0b2guCbHQetfmsZtmoEMCaMbUM6WIoPlIzRPtz_YmNCkpMSsKDXatAaZy9Sl6t1UgVK4BGKSgPnpi0KxxMaXBSnPo/s320/8492_4671397993.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>The success of <em>Gran Torino</em> has left me totally angry and bewildered. Critics and audiences rarely agree so enthusiastically, but such is the curious case of <em>Gran Torino</em>. The Metacritic critics give it an average rating of 72 out of 100. According to Rotten Tomatoes, <em>Gran Torino</em> is 76% fresh. You can find it on the IMDB Top 250 at position 82. That means that viewers have ranked it as the 82nd best film of all time. Some of the films that <em>Gran Torino</em> is, apparently, better than: Billy Wilder's 1960 masterpiece <em>The Apartment</em> (#89), Stanley Kubrick's polarizing-yet-undeniably impressive <em>Full Metal Jacket</em> (#93), the Coens' Best Picture winner <em>No Country for Old Men</em> (#95), Orson Welles' trippy <em>Touch of Evil</em> (#94), the exquisite <em>Life is Beautiful</em> (#87), a little film called<em> 2001: A Space Odyssey</em> (#84), and, most egregious to me, Charlie Chaplin's <em>The Great Dictator</em> (#98). It's creeping up way-too-quickly, like within the next ten, on comedic milestone <em>Some Like It Hot</em> (#81), <em>Singin' in the Rain</em> (#79), Charlie Chaplin's <em>Modern Times</em> (#78), <em>Metropolis</em> (#77), <em>All About Eve</em> (#75), and yet another brilliant Chaplin film, <em>City Lights</em> (#71). What is this? Is Clint Eastwood trying to pick a fight with Charlie Chaplin?</strong></span><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Two weekends ago, <em>Gran Torino</em> went wide (couldn't it have stayed narrow?) and took in $30 million at the box office to become the number one movie in America. Last weekend, it fell to number two but still scooped up over $20 million more. This weekend pushed the total gross all the way up to $97 million! I can't believe this movie is going to pass the much-coveted $100 million mark! <em>Gran Torino</em> has also been named one of the best films of the year (National Board of Review). It has been nominated for awards and even won a couple (Best Original Screenplay and Best Actor - the screwy Board of Review again). I'm so grateful that the Academy shut it out, but still, all the accolades and the overwhelming public and critical love... Okay...how do I put this...</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD?!</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Seriously! What kind of topsy-turvy hell is this? Is this a cosmic joke? Am I part of an experiment, à la <em>The Truman Show</em>? Alas...no. This is reality. Welcome to it. And yes, the melodramatics WERE necessary.</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>So, just in case people don't know, Clint Eastwood actually released two films in 2008 - prestige project <em>Changeling</em> starring Angelina Jolie and <em>Gran Torino</em>. Oh, how I WISH all the hullabaloo was about <em>Changeling</em>, but it's not. It should be, though! <em>Changeling</em> is an astronomically better film and one that has been horribly passed over and forgotten. But hey, who cares about substance and pesky things like "plot" when you can see an almost 80-year-old Clint with a gun? I was surprised that he was releasing two films in the same year again, but as the two projects were unrelated (no <em>Flags of Our Fathers</em>/<em>Letters from Iwo Jima </em>here), I suspected that the SECOND one, <em>Gran Torino</em>, would suffer from hasty production (it did) and fade away (it didn't). I saw the trailer for <em>Gran Torino</em> for the first time, oddly enough, right before <em>Changeling</em>. It was the last trailer before the film started. I laughed heartily on the inside. It looked so absurd and, well...bad. Certainly no one would take it seriously. And putting it immediately before <em>Changeling</em> made it look even more ridiculous. A couple months later, <em>Gran Torino</em> came out of nowhere and starting getting rave reviews and awards buzz. I remained skeptical for as long as I could until my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to give it a shot. I kept my mind wide open, though my instincts proved correct.</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>I know I sound really livid, and don't get me wrong, I definitely am in the broader scheme of things, but the movie itself doesn't especially anger me. It's really too inconsequential to let it be that significant. What does anger me, however, is that I watched it two and a half times in preparation for this review. Anyway, here's the thin plot: Clint Eastwood is Walt Kowalski, disgruntled Korean war vet, the last white guy holding his ground in a neighborhood that has become a melting pot of Asians, Hispanics, and other random minorities that Walt doesn't like. So, Walt is old, and he's angry. And he has a 1972 Gran Torino. A Gran Torino is a car.</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>The movie begins with Walt at his wife's funeral. Walt scowls and growls at his ungrateful, estranged, and incredibly annoying family. Walt growls a LOT. His family wants to put him away in a home (naturally eliciting a growl from Walt) because they're afraid he'll get into trouble in the "old neighborhood." Well, yeah, seeing as how Walt has a loaded shotgun (a throwback weapon? connection to the past and his roots and such?) on hand at all times, I'd be concerned, as well. His family members are such one-dimensional monsters, though, that all they really care about is their inheritance and the eternal question: who will get the Gran Torino when the old bastard croaks? Walt is more insistently pestered by possibly the most irritating character of the year, a barely legal baby-faced priest who babbles on and on about how he was close with Walt's wife (why? isn't that odd to anyone? and does Walt seriously think that she would be cool with the vigilante stuff?) and that she made him promise to watch out for Walt after she died. Walt, of course, scoffs...until he doesn't anymore. Do you doubt that they become pals?</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Right on cue, an Asian family (of Hmong origin) moves in next door to Walt. As he's insanely racist, especially toward Asians (Korea, ya know), this isn't good. The teenage lad next door that Walt will inevitably mentor is Thao, a sensitive introvert who washes dishes and gardens and doesn't do the manly things his family expects of him. His gang member cousin wants to recruit him. So, Thao is standing on the precipice of life: will he succumb to gangbanging or transcend his social status and make something of himself? Gee, I wonder.</strong></span><br /></div><div><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Thao gets pressured into giving the gang a try. To prove his worthiness and his manhood to the other gang members, they give him an initiation task: steal the old man's Gran Torino. He tries, gets foiled by Clint with a gun, and flees. The gang comes to Thao's home to rough him up, and the brawl spills over onto Walt's lawn, prompting the catchphrase du jour, grunted down the barrel of a shotgun: "Get off my lawn." Because of this, the neighborhood hails Walt as a hero. He wants none of it. Thao's sister Sue drags him into their lives. Thao is forced to pay penance for his attempted robbery by working for Walt (by his maternal figures, one of several instances of Walt being conveniently guilted into doing something by Asian customs).</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>After an hour of excruciating build-up, <em>Gran Torino</em> turns into <em>Tuesdays with Morrie</em>. Walt and Thao (or Toad as Walt ignorantly calls him) hang out and fix things, Walt teaches him how to be a man, and they form a bond that Walt doesn't have with his own sons (I don't blame him, they're awful). In the third act (the script structure is embarrassingly visible), Walt cares enough about Sue and Thao that he wants to make sure that they can live in peace without the influence of gangs (isn't this futile? won't more keep moving in indefinitely?). This is Walt's penance, his big redemption (for being a nasty foul-mouthed SOB and killing people in Korea). Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that Walt periodically coughs throughout the movie? That's cinematic code for fatal illness. Ugh, it's so painfully obvious. If you can't see the ending coming, this is probably your first movie ever. I will concede that while the ending is wildly and messianically predictable, I was surprised by the WAY the final events went down. Ultimately, it doesn't matter. It doesn't make the movie better, just slightly less boring.</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>The first hour of <em>Gran Torino</em> is some of the worst cinema I've ever seen. I was laughing hysterically at its badness. It's basically just Eastwood growling and spewing racial slurs amidst terrible dialogue, appalling acting, and atrocious pacing. I wouldn't say it gets "good" in the second hour, it just gets less bad. It becomes tolerable and mildly amusing. I couldn't pinpoint what I was feeling until my fellow viewer likened it to watching your kid in a school play. "Oh, bless his little heart." I knew I had this dumb smile plastered on my face, as if I had been lobotomized. Clint Eastwood gives a decent performance, but it's nothing special. The National Board of Review awarded him Best Actor for this movie. That is royally fucked up. Pardon my language, but I guess Walt's constant cussing wore off on me. Eastwood claims this is the last acting he'll ever do, which is like catnip to critics and awards voters who will want to bestow what I call a "nostalgia award" upon him. He's old, he's had a long career, and he's paying homage to the badass persona he created decades ago. I would have been furious if he had gotten an Oscar nomination.</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><br />That being said, he IS a badass. I fully admit that. He's almost 80 and has his slacks hiked up, but no one is going to mess with him. I guess there's this primal part of all of us (correct me if I'm wrong) that gets an adrenaline rush from that type of machismo. It's just...cool. And I can get into it, although I do have some feminist guilt about it. Anyway, Clint does a good enough job, but the character is so pitifully developed that by the time you're supposed to care about him, you're still ten steps behind where the screenwriter wants you to be in the arc of identifying with this character, and you don't. At least, I didn't care. How can you care about a cartoon in an allegedly real world?</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>And then there's the racism. I have never heard the word "gook" more in my life, and I've taken two semester-long classes on Vietnam and read tons of literature and saw lots of films. There's a line that separates a character being racist from the movie as a whole being racist. <em>Gran Torino</em> crosses that line. The racist remarks are so putridly pervasive that it just gets obscene. Feel free to disagree, but I think <em>Gran Torino</em>, and by association Eastwood, come off a bit racist.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span></div><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em>Gran Torino</em> is so messed up. Everything is skewed; nothing happens as intended. The tone is inconsistent. Is this a shoot 'em up? Is this a Lifetime movie? Is it a redemption drama? It's kind of all of those, but also none of those. The cliché-riddled script by Nick Schenk isn't even palatable enough to qualify for remedial screenwriting; it's that awful. Bee Vang is actually really good as Thao, but all of the other acting is misery personified. Special awards go to the actors playing Walt's family (not even worth mentioning their names), Ahney Her (Sue) with her awkward over-enunciation, whiny screechiness, and memorably terrible recitation of the inherently hideous and stupid line "Booga booga booga," and the abysmal, perpetually dumb-looking, flatter than all holy hell Christopher Carley (the priest) for making Stanislavski roll over in his grave and weep with their assaults on the craft of acting. Carley is the worst, though. You shouldn't want to punch the priest.<br /><br />I have a huge problem with the ending (I won't reveal, but if you've seen it and want to discuss it, I'd be happy to do so). The ending, and again this is Walt's influence on my language, pussies out. <span style="font-style: italic;">Gran </span><i>Torino</i> is exorbitantly self-indulgent, but Eastwood pushes it beyond that, and what you get is pomposity. Not digging it, Mr. Eastwood. Not digging it.</strong></span><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>And then there's the song. Oh, the song. The theme song of <span style="font-style: italic;">Gran </span><i>Torino</i> is "Gran Torino." How creative. The song, sung by Jamie Cullum, is overall pretty lame. But the special part of its use in the film is that we are graced by the heavenly, dulcet tones of Clint Eastwood's 80-year-old voice. And if you haven't figured it out, I'm being totally sarcastic. Eastwood's singing sucks! I have spent so much time trying to come up with an apt description for his sound that someone else hasn't already said, and this is the best I've got: When he sings, Clint Eastwood sounds like a Muppet with emphysema.<br /><br />Now, for your visual/aural pleasure, I've assembled three video clips to give you an idea of what his singing sounds like. I implore you to watch all of them in their entirety, as I believe it will make this experience more rewarding, and it means a lot to me, but if you really can't watch them all the way through, watch at least 30 seconds of singing, enough to get a good feel for it.<br /></strong></span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z1SiSUrvUnk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z1SiSUrvUnk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BovQyphS8kA&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BovQyphS8kA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HdUeVAkzEas&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HdUeVAkzEas&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, I hope that was informative as well as fun. It was a happy trip down memory lane for me. Hey, a good way to travel down memory lane is in a </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;">Gran </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;">Torino! Ahem. Anyway, his voice is kind of an amalgam of those three voices.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;">And now, prepare yourself for the real thing. Luckily, Eastwood only croaks the first verse. Break out the cotton balls and </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HEXF7U5TYV8">enjoy</a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;">!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;">That pretty much says it all, doesn't it?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Clint Eastwood shot <span style="font-style: italic;">Gran </span><em>Torino</em> in 32 days. In 37 days, Alfred Hitchcock shot <em>Psycho</em>. Clint Eastwood is no Alfred Hitchcock.</strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Rating: ** (out of 5 stars)<br /><br /></strong></span></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-25716830529751288542009-01-22T01:32:00.003-06:002009-01-22T02:14:55.309-06:00Last Minute Predictions<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Okay, so it's 6 hours before the Oscar nominations are being announced, and I'm so stoked and high on a rush of adrenaline that I decided to post my predictions for the nominees. I seriously live for this time of year. I love it! I made this list really fast purposefully so that my gut feelings would guide me, and my choices would be pure and free from second-guessing. I want to be clear that these are the films/people that I believe WILL be nominated, not necessarily the ones that I personally think SHOULD be nominated. That being said, here are my predictions for the Oscar nominees in the six major categories:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Best Picture:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>The Dark Knight</strong></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Milk</strong></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Revolutionary Road</strong></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Slumdog Millionaire</strong></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>The Wrestler</strong></span></em><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Best Director:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Darren Aronofsky, <em>The Wrestler</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Danny Boyle, <em>Slumdog Millionaire</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Sam Mendes, <em>Revolutionary Road</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Christopher Nolan, <em>The Dark Knight</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Gus Van Sant, <em>Milk</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Best Actor:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Leonardo DiCaprio, <em>Revolutionary Road</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Frank Langella,<em> Frost/Nixon</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Sean Penn, <em>Milk</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Brad Pitt, <em>The Curious Case of Benjamin Button</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Mickey Rourke, <em>The Wrestler</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Best Actress:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Anne Hathaway, <em>Rachel Getting Married</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Sally Hawkins, <em>Happy-Go-Lucky</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Kristin Scott Thomas, <em>I've Loved You So Long</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Meryl Streep, <em>Doubt</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Kate Winslet, <em>Revolutionary Road</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Best Supporting Actor:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Josh Brolin, <em>Milk</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">James Franco, <em>Milk</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Heath Ledger, <em>The Dark Knight</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Dev Patel, <em>Slumdog Millionaire</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Philip Seymour Hoffman, <em>Doubt</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Best Supporting Actress:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Amy Adams, <em>Doubt</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Penelope Cruz, <em>Vicky Cristina Barcelona</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Viola Davis, <em>Doubt</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Marisa Tomei, <em>The Wrestler</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Kate Winslet, <em>The Reader</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Ta-da! Yikes, I'm really putting myself out there. This could be disastrous, but I really hope I made some good and maybe unorthodox or unexpected calls. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Super Special Bonus Prediction: <em>Slumdog Millionaire</em> will receive the most nominations with 12.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Fingers crossed! I'm so excited! And a little nervous! But mostly excited! </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Man, I love what I do.</strong></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><br/></span></strong>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-68186911905247790612009-01-09T18:39:00.003-06:002009-01-09T19:05:06.360-06:00Quaffable, but uh...far from transcendent.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>This post exists for no reason other than that I adore<em> Family Guy</em> and think this is one of the funniest and most random parodies I've ever seen. Hopefully it'll bring you a chuckle.<br /><br />The original:<br /></strong></span><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aMS0O3kknvk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aMS0O3kknvk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><em>Family Guy</em> greatness:</span></strong><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ETXJNHhwJeY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ETXJNHhwJeY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>That makes me so happy.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Oh, and pop quiz: What's the origin of the title of this post?</strong></span>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-86009931293946884882009-01-09T02:44:00.005-06:002009-01-09T02:50:38.081-06:00Bitch Wars<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LDcT24Z53dO0tgaemkEzb_N4RKHX9HpqF_X5PbCfnRVs_iefLXLhvQgi93ZIkBiXZ2ZbYzKnNUcg1OYrqR4XrbRo7dVGIirUFqzwAeLFMXp14MmMvt0gF0MwsfhBMPlxVQEaJ5JdAFmA/s1600-h/8830_388815170.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289213413493599026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LDcT24Z53dO0tgaemkEzb_N4RKHX9HpqF_X5PbCfnRVs_iefLXLhvQgi93ZIkBiXZ2ZbYzKnNUcg1OYrqR4XrbRo7dVGIirUFqzwAeLFMXp14MmMvt0gF0MwsfhBMPlxVQEaJ5JdAFmA/s400/8830_388815170.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>The end of the year spoils us, movie-wise. Even if you don't put much stock in awards season, you can't deny the quality of the Oscar bait films. It's a sweet time...a better time.<br /><br />Alas, welcome to January, where cinema goes to die. And with <em>Bride Wars</em>, it looks like we're right on schedule. In this nauseating-looking exercise in female bitchery, Anne Hathaway, determined to erase any cred she earned with <em>Rachel Getting Married</em> (think Halle Berry with <em>Catwoman</em> and Eddie Murphy with <em>Norbit</em>), and Kate Hudson, who hasn't done anything worthwhile since <em>Almost Famous</em> over eight years ago, star as childhood best friends who have always dreamt of having their weddings at the Plaza and, of course, being the other's maid of honor. But oh no, their weddings accidentally get booked on the same day. Whatever will they do?<br /><br />Since they're women, they'll have an epic catfight, naturally. As you know, we women are totally irrational and WILL shatter a lifelong friendship and turn into shrieking, backstabbing, tantrum-throwing, superficial she-beasts at the drop of a hat, especially if you mess with our weddings. We'll resort to calling each other fat, we'll dye each other's hair blue and ensure the other gets a bad orange tan, and we're willing to throw feminism and our self-respect out the window. What decade IS this? GAG.</strong></span><br /><object height="240" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bjsA0_arKtk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bjsA0_arKtk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="420" height="240"></embed></object></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I'm not the only one who finds this appalling, right? Worse yet, <em>Bride Wars</em> has a PG rating, so every little girl can aspire to being this petty and bitchy when she grows up.<br /></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I hope I speak for all women when I say:<br /></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Ladies, please, you're embarrassing us.</strong></span></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><br/></span></strong></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-37345544006732624022009-01-02T21:38:00.013-06:002009-01-02T23:16:55.179-06:00Guy Ritchie Killed RocknRoll<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRyA7IU80hko2YNPJh0aqARaObJAhj_poGfD14xWPvuqAy9JPv1C-leEttZdbKh_qd9iWZrcSPgPGoVqtm2cU4DfwxvdEEqIOUDP7FaBuQ_REt9BQs5pCXmnhsXERaUQXFKZLMO-PtZ2Eh/s1600-h/9470_11492910668.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286923628598559266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRyA7IU80hko2YNPJh0aqARaObJAhj_poGfD14xWPvuqAy9JPv1C-leEttZdbKh_qd9iWZrcSPgPGoVqtm2cU4DfwxvdEEqIOUDP7FaBuQ_REt9BQs5pCXmnhsXERaUQXFKZLMO-PtZ2Eh/s320/9470_11492910668.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I think it's safe to say that Guy Ritchie has a pretty decent following, some ardent defenders, and has received considerable, if cultish, acclaim. Can anyone tell me why? His body of work is so small and the quality in that tiny quantity is so poor that I'm left bewildered and a bit angry.<br /><br />Ritchie's <em>RocknRolla</em>, a British crime caper, is one of the worst movies of 2008. It's atrocious. Absurdly, almost impossibly bad. Watching it was pure misery. And I paid $10 to see it! My only defense is that I was duped by this awesome-looking trailer:</strong></span><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GSZ7S_FqQxM&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GSZ7S_FqQxM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><br/></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">See? Deceptive! Looks cool, right? It's not. There's nothing interesting, exciting, or comprehensible about <em>RocknRolla</em> (ugh, it's annoying to type that stupid title - I die a little on the inside each time). The plot is just awful. It's rambling, nonsensical, and dull as all bloody hell. <em>RocknRolla</em> is unnecessary, overcomplicated, and self-indulgent. It's a hideous waste of good actors (Gerard Butler, Jeremy Piven, and Ludacris) and an egregious waste of a great one (Tom Wilkinson). </span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Butler and Wilkinson are the only two things separating <em>RocknRolla</em> from a zero star rating. Wilkinson for his mere presence, really, but Butler is actually charming and quite funny (the only humorous aspect of this glaringly UNfunny alleged comedy, aside from its laughable wretchedness, of course - although, there isn't much laughter as it's honestly too bad to derive even that simple pleasure granted by terrible movies). Gerard Butler is like a way less interesting and talented version of Colin Farrell in <em>In Bruges</em>, but he's the best thing in this assault on cinema and humanity, so I'm grateful to him. He's very entertaining and, to be superficial, he's really hot. Still, there's no compensation, no relief, and no excuse. I loathe this movie.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">2008 saw some serious duds in the action/thriller department, but <em>RocknRolla</em> really bites the bullet.</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Rating: 1/2* (out of 5)</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-1029601351319168632009-01-02T13:46:00.015-06:002009-01-06T14:23:43.142-06:00You Gotta Give 'Em Hope<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4KKCbVc37nukz7eU1ms-370AJ812pnWK-bhbyU9CBkqf4ll7gISBBvJPcLHjhA6MsAGXr2-7BkSVhUxncdSh_9i83RtZvSHCxpymWbyPa4VbKCNLB_AawWH2SX-kifG2eFoTt1egVMl4/s1600-h/9296_4809232864.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286837794424957986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4KKCbVc37nukz7eU1ms-370AJ812pnWK-bhbyU9CBkqf4ll7gISBBvJPcLHjhA6MsAGXr2-7BkSVhUxncdSh_9i83RtZvSHCxpymWbyPa4VbKCNLB_AawWH2SX-kifG2eFoTt1egVMl4/s320/9296_4809232864.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><em>Milk</em> is a disappointingly conventional biopic about a gloriously unconventional man. Harvey Milk (Sean Penn), based in San Francisco, crusaded tirelessly for gay rights and became the first openly gay public official (City Supervisor) in the late 70s. Harvey Milk is an inspiration, and his story blew me away. The film itself is uninspired. <em>Milk</em> could have been great, and it's a tragedy that it's not.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong><em>Milk</em> is basically a series of vignettes highlighting different periods of Harvey's life during the 70s - numerous failed attempts to win public office, romantic relationships with men, his eventual triumph, and the shocking and tragic events that followed it. The film never flows together in any cohesive way. There's an ongoing narration by Penn (Harvey's cryptic tell-all into a microphone at his kitchen table) that appears and disappears at random. The structure of the film is so disjointed that I think it could have been disastrous without the heavyweight acting of the ensemble. <em>Milk</em> jumps around so much that the result, narratively, seems surface. There should have been less quantity and more quality. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Most of this is the fault of Dustin Lance Black's painfully amateurish, formulaic, and repetitious script. He was in way over his head on this project, which was his first screenplay. He will get an Oscar nomination, but he won't deserve it. The script is a mess. The subplot involving one of Harvey's two main lovers, Jack Lira (Diego Luna), is annoying and superfluous. Jack is selfish and terrible for Harvey, but Harvey just can't resist him. This storyline screams, "Look, Harvey has flaws and weaknesses!" It's a pitiful attempt to add more dimensions to the character. We don't need to be TOLD that; Sean Penn makes us feel and believe that Harvey is fully human, someone who makes mistakes and suffers from self-doubt as much as he triumphs and perseveres. He is not meant to be a messiah (although I think the film leans that way at times). There's the random introduction of some random kid in a wheelchair calling Harvey as he's about to commit suicide. Things happen too conveniently (life-summation phone calls before pivotal plot moments, one boyfriend exiting and another entering almost instantaneously, a terrible, cliché oversymbolization of opera), the film lingers too long, and it was even a bit boring here and there. It's frustrating, because Harvey Milk and all the actors who are working their method butts off deserve a better screenplay.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>It's interesting to see Gus Van Sant going the mainstream, traditionally narrative route. This is a total departure from mood outings like <em>Paranoid Park</em> (and thankfully light years away from the atrocious <em>Psycho</em> remake - shudder). I'm happy that he's getting such widespread recognition. His directing is quite good, and the story is obviously coming from a very personal place. I believe he did the best job possible with the script he had, but I think he was more concerned with the message than the structure. Pity, because the message would have been stronger if the film had been stronger. <em>Milk</em> is a sprawling epic of sorts, and Van Sant manages to hold it all together. It's a lot to keep under control, and I admire his efforts and his passion for the project. I've certainly come a long way from despising him for desecrating Alfred Hitchcock.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>None of the aesthetics of the film are particularly noteworthy. The film has a nice grainy 70s-ish look to it (cinematography by Harris Savides) and is interspersed with some stunning real footage from the past. Only Danny Elfman's brilliant score really stands out. He just keeps on proving that he's one of the best composers we've ever had, and one of the most versatile. There's an operatic, powerfully emotional, and swooningly gorgeous quality about his layered melodies. It's a knockout. And it does precisely what a score should do, which is complement the film and elevate it to another level.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I'm not sure if <em>Milk</em> has THE best ensemble of the year (<em>The Dark Knight</em>,<em> In Bruges</em>, and <em>Slumdog Millionaire</em> come to mind), but it's definitely a top contender. Diego Luna - the poor guy - does what he can to make an annoying caricature charming. Allison Pill is fantastic as tough and cool Anne, Harvey's campaign manager and the lone female in his universe. Josh Brolin is just exploding off the radar lately, and I'm thrilled for him. He's getting a lot of acclaim for his role as Dan White, Harvey's nemesis on the supervisory committee. He's great here, bringing humor, gravity, and emotional nuance to a character who could have been a stereotypical mustache-twirling baddie (if he had a mustache, that is), but his best work this year was in <em>W.</em> as the titular fool. Emile Hirsch impresses me more all the time. He's equal parts hilarious and intense as Cleve Jones, a wayward teen who joins Harvey's crusade.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I don't know what happened to James Franco, but somewhere between <em>Spider-Man 3</em> and now, he turned into a really amazing actor (yes, I know he apparently did good work on <em>Freaks and Geeks</em>, but his film career has been dismal at best). His performance in <em>Milk</em> is so sensitive and beautiful that it makes my heart skip a beat and a few tears come to my eyes just thinking about it. He has the most heart-melting and sincere smile and such a gentle disposition that it's no wonder Harvey is so in love with him. He plays Scott Smith, who I firmly believe was Harvey's one true love and soul mate. Franco deserves a Best Supporting Actor nomination. This is his best performance to date, and I'm excited to watch him in the future. He also sort of reminds me of Heath Ledger in this film. I can't really explain it, maybe it's how he looks or just his spirit, but it's lovely.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Sean Penn is stunning as Harvey Milk. He IS Harvey Milk. It's a staggering, electrifying, profoundly touching performance. He's riveting from start to finish, whether he's giving powerful Barack Obama-style speeches or breathtakingly and exquisitely exposing Harvey's heart and soul to us. He draws us so completely into Harvey's life that script problems seem trivial compared to his awesome talent. It feels like he's speaking to only you and to the whole world at the same time, and always intimately and passionately. Honestly, I think this is the best work of Sean Penn's career. Who knew it was possible for him to get better? Well, here's the proof. He's one of this year's strongest and most deserving Oscar contenders.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>With Proposition 8 still looming over us, <em>Milk</em> is more relevant than ever. It's a serious film about a serious issue, gay rights, that has somehow broken into the mainstream, and I think that's amazing. I'm sure his story will inspire revolutionaries of today to continue and hopefully one day finish his work. <em>Milk</em> has more than its share of flaws, and I can't dismiss them (I wish I could), but the acting is so transcendent, the </strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>story is so moving and inspirational, and the message of perseverance, tolerance, and hope is so potent and so essential to the advancement of society and humanity that it deserves to be seen and celebrated. </strong></span></div><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>After Harvey Milk was elected City Supervisor in 1977, he asserted, "It's not my victory, it's yours and yours and yours. If a gay can win, it means there is hope that the system can work for all minorities if we fight. We've given them hope." And, after all, as Harvey says in the film, "Without hope, life's not worth living."</strong></span></p><p><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"></span></strong><br /></p><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Rating: **** (out of 5)</strong></span></div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><div> </div><div><br /></span></strong></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-30637605433162751522008-12-16T23:56:00.007-06:002008-12-17T09:18:41.771-06:00Are You There, Blog? It's Me, Lisa<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I don't know how to start this, my 200th post on this blog and my big comeback, other than to say that I have no clue how to start it. I haven't written anything on here or at all since that Sarah Palin post on October 13th, and that was nothing more than snarky fluff. So, it's been well over four months since I've written anything substantial with any regularity. And for the majority of that time, I barely saw any movies. I never wanted to take a break from writing or film (especially not film), but it just turned out that way. The universe had me in a choke hold. So much happened during my time away that I don't even recognize myself or my life anymore, and I'm still trying to work out if that's a good thing or not. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I don't want to get all melodramatic; this isn't a pity plea. But I do feel a sense of loyalty to this blog and to my readers, and you deserve to know what's been going on to keep me from being here. So, I'm just going to rip off the band-aid and give you a list. Here goes, in no particular order: moving out of the home that I'd lived in for over twenty years for the first time and dealing with the accompanying trauma and the constant missing, moving a second time after only one month in the new place, leaving behind family, leaving behind my beautiful dog Molly (one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make), finding new homes for my sun conure Buster and my darling rats, getting new pets, life with a puppy, relationships ending and beginning, isolation from friends, futile job hunting (the hours I spent...), getting and losing two potentially awesome, though not related to my career, jobs (SO complicated), health issues, not being able to find a job ever, being jerked around in the job search, severe psychological distress, financial woes (like, being broke all the time), losing faith in myself, losing faith in my ability as a writer, feeling like I'll never make it or fulfill my dreams, reevaluating my dreams, chronic Writer's Block, feeling like a stranger in my own body, and deciding that things needed to change. See? Painless.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>In a way, I feel like I've been buried alive (but barely alive), and I'm only now trying to claw my way out of the grave. But it's still a long way up. I got proactive about a month ago by hurling myself full throttle back into cinema. I saw 10 films in the first two weeks of this catch-up project, and then I saw some of those again, bringing the total of individual showings in two weeks to 15. After that, I saw some more, but it dwindled considerably. I was exhausted. I still have a list of about 10 in theaters now that I have to see, and Santa is bringing us like a dozen more films on Christmas Day, most of which look really good. And then there are all the reviews I still need to write, from mid-summer on. It's overwhelming. And I haven't been able to write worth a damn. I didn't know if I would ever be able to write again, and I wasn't sure that I should even try. It's been terrifying.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Then, I wanted to come back to the blog so badly and write anything, just to get the gears moving again, but I felt the need to write an "explanation post" first, and thus I agonized over that process. The self-imposed pressure was suffocating. I wanted it to be perfect, but nothing ever is. As I'm writing now, it feels awkward. I'm rusty, I know it. But I had to do an explanation post of some significance, so here it is. And here it will stay. I don't want to read this ever again. I want to leave all of the negativity behind and start fresh from this very moment. I just needed to get it out - not all of it, but enough to be able to move forward and be meaningful and do meaningful things again. I know emotions and catharses aren't particularly professional, but if I can't do it on the internet, where millions of people could, in theory, read my private thoughts, than where else can I do it, right? </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Before I end this, let me say that I'm really, really sorry that you had to see that horrid Sarah Palin picture every time you came here for the past two months. Please forgive me. </strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Oh, and hey, President Barack Obama - how about them apples? :) It's nice to be proud to be an American for once. And I'm extra proud to live in Illinois! Well, except for that whole "most corrupt state in the nation" thing and the illegal shenanigans of our buffoon's ass of a governor...that's not so good. Not surprising either. But I'm still going hold my head up high as an Illinoisan. It's the Land of Lincoln, and now it's the Land of Obama. Hell to the yeah.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Anyway...I'm not where I want to be yet, but I'm eager to start the journey again. Giddy up, boys and girls.</strong></span><br /><strong><span style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></strong>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-51482839606016939392008-10-13T00:17:00.013-05:002008-12-16T23:59:16.556-06:00Killer Body Barbie<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTOZLS8TdQYIeuMpmdw-obfJCaXzmTD80-SYK2en0OULMC5Jj2eBFOZr5vk3qDqL-yhCNcNpHiNi-rzRhwJy1RubgvktK-JtJBnQpN-cqZ49GKLp3jZTw7YPWRpZRWLtqarNXZEDE6SPE/s1600-h/palin"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256506530280175762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTOZLS8TdQYIeuMpmdw-obfJCaXzmTD80-SYK2en0OULMC5Jj2eBFOZr5vk3qDqL-yhCNcNpHiNi-rzRhwJy1RubgvktK-JtJBnQpN-cqZ49GKLp3jZTw7YPWRpZRWLtqarNXZEDE6SPE/s320/palin" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Kathlyn and Gay Hendricks' BRILLIANT </span><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kathlyn-and-gay-hendricks/body-politics-sarah-palin_b_132785.html"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">article</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">, "Body Politics: Sarah Palin's Body Language And Why It Should Worry You," from <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Huffington Post</span> totally made my day. It tickled me, and I hope it tickles you, too.</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"> </span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><br /></span><div style="FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">**<br /></span></div><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;" >Since our last post</span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">, we've been asked many times to comment on Sarah Palin's mannerisms. Her Body-Talk is not as blatant as her running mate, probably because she has a background as a performer in beauty pageants and television. She has learned to conceal the smirks and clenches that play so openly across the countenance of John McCain.<br /></span><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" ><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">In our work we call body language the Five Flags, because there are five major ways human beings react when they're not speaking the authentic truth. Twitches and jaw-clenches are examples of Flag #1, Body-Flags. To understand Sarah Palin, though, you need to understand Flags #2 and #3, Voice-Flags and Attitude-Flags. The English word 'personality' comes from two Latin words, per and sona, "through sound." The Romans knew that the personality comes through in the tone of voice and other vocal aspects. </span></span><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms" face="trebuchet ms"><br />From thirty-five years of clinical experience, we can tell you a lot about Sarah Palin's real personality and why it makes many people even more nervous that John McCain's.</p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms" face="trebuchet ms"><br />Attitude-Flag #1: The Aggressive Confidence Of The Con-Person</p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms" face="trebuchet ms"><br />Sarah Palin has mastered one fundamental requirement of a Republican president: she can smile and look you directly in the eye while telling an outrageous lie. At least when John McCain lies, his body screams his discomfort by putting on an eye-catching display of twitches, phony smiles and robot moves. McCain's body language is so strange that it's easily observable; he appears to be operated by a puppeteer who is a couple of triple-espressos over the line. That's a good thing, though. We'd much rather have a presidential candidate who reads like a comic book when he's lying than one who conceals those whoppers under a grin and a wink. Sarah Palin belts out her deceptions and distractions with a radiant confidence we usually only see in sociopaths and infomercial pitch-persons. The last public figure we saw who could grin and lie with that kind of sunny confidence was O.J. Simpson. </p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms" face="trebuchet ms"><strong><br />Voice-Flag #1:</strong> <strong>The Exaggerated Folksiness Of The Huckster</strong></p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)" face="trebuchet ms"><br />Our partisan colors may peek through subtly from time to time, but we do our best to be non-partisan lie-catchers. We cringed when Bill Clinton did his famous "I did not have sex..." line. We immediately looked at each other and said "uh-oh," because his body language let us know loud and clear that he did indeed have sex with "that woman." About ten minutes after Clinton's declaration, our phone started ringing from producers of talk shows wanting us to comment on Clinton's body language. They knew they'd seen something, but they couldn't figure out exactly what.</p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)" face="trebuchet ms"><br />More recently, we cringed when we heard Sarah Palin start using more of those pseudo-folksy expressions such as "You betcha" and "doggone-it." She was droppin' so many g's on-stage at last week's debate that the janitorial staff may have had to work over-time pickin' 'em up, by gum. The last eight years have taught us all a sobering lesson: you don't have to be smart to be the President of the United States. However, we hope that America is smart enough to see Palin's exaggerated folksiness for what it is, a cheap trick to cozy up to us so they can sell us four more years of Bush Lite. We hope America will hear those "You betchas" and send Mc Cain/Palin a message right back: Just because you pretend to be dumb and folksy, you don't automatically get to live in the White House. </p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><strong><br />Voice-Flag #2: The Metallic Shriek Of The Fear-Monger</strong></p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><br />To emphasize certain points, Sarah Palin takes her voice up the tone scale to a metallic shriek. This tone will be familiar to many of us: it's the voice your mother employed as a last resort to get you out of bed when you were a teenager. It's designed to scare you, to rake fingernails across your inner chalkboard. She often uses this voice when she first takes the stage at a rally. It works quite well there, because it cuts like a knife and jolts any of the faithful who might be dozing to sit up in their seats. We hope Americans are not so sleepy as to vote in favor of hearing this tone of voice for four years. </p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><br />Here's the bottom line: The McCain/Palin campaign strategy is based entirely on stirring up fear. It's a classic way to distract people from thinking about real issues and to cover up the lack of any real solutions. Their thinking goes like this:<br /></p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><br />• If we can get people scared that Obama might secretly be a Muslim or a terrorist, maybe we can get them not to think about the real issues.</p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><br />• If we can get people scared that Rev. Wright might turn the inaugural benediction into an anti-American rant, maybe we can get them to believe America's economic problems are just something cooked up by the elite media as a way to play "Gotcha" on poor Sarah and John.</p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><br />• If we can scare people into thinking Barack HUSSEIN Obama is going to put Louis Farrakhan in charge of the annual White House Easter egg hunt, maybe people won't notice that we have absolutely no solutions to the real problems they face. </p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><br />Barack Obama has so far opted to run a positive campaign based on hope and thoughtful solutions. It's our fervent desire that he continue to do so, because it's about time we turned our national attention to positive possibilities. Over the past eight years we've had enough fear-mongering to last a lifetime.</p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><br />(Stay tuned! In our next post we'll look at two more important bits of body language that we all need to be paying attention to during the campaign. We've noticed these flags at play in both Joe Biden and John McCain, and they spell trouble for all of us.)</p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms; TEXT-ALIGN: center">**<br /></p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms">I'll stay tuned indeed! Watching that vice-presidential debate...ugh. I saw all of this as clear as the Alaska sky before shooting a polar bear or a wolf. How can so many people be so blind?! Oops, gotta go - reckon that doggone polar bear over yonder is looking to rassle. You betcha. Lock and load.</p><p style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms"><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)">Oy.</span><br /></p><p></p>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-58241563976782062492008-09-28T12:10:00.006-05:002008-09-28T13:36:55.450-05:00A Beautiful Man<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1D6Bg4PbpqEg59vH2LKzLUZmek4xqTjz3ZtANLUY9aWzbGiiwK74yfQFJMyUTuhUmTGrL9TXXGqhMtNdBDxf3YyxV_OOz_bRU0wUJQ2EbquqdEecMMRsZSyufFBkDvqO5gMAUBWZQ5fx3/s1600-h/Paul-Newman-Biography.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251142480171160258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1D6Bg4PbpqEg59vH2LKzLUZmek4xqTjz3ZtANLUY9aWzbGiiwK74yfQFJMyUTuhUmTGrL9TXXGqhMtNdBDxf3YyxV_OOz_bRU0wUJQ2EbquqdEecMMRsZSyufFBkDvqO5gMAUBWZQ5fx3/s400/Paul-Newman-Biography.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>We knew he was sick, we knew he didn't have much time left, so we should have been prepared for Paul Newman's death, right?</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>Sigh. Wrong.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I was moving all day yesterday, so even though I was deeply upset, I really didn't have time to process the devastating news until now. And the verdict? I'm heartbroken. Paul Newman is truly one of the greatest of the greats, one of the tallest of the towering cinematic giants, and the golden boy of Hollywood's golden age. He was also a phenomenal human being. He will be missed terribly. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>I didn't cry until I went to IMDB this morning and saw the tribute on the home page. That was when I first felt the sting. All my love and thoughts are with Joanne Woodward and their family. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="color:#666666;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Newman, you will always be in my heart. Not even death can dim the light in those radiant blue eyes.</strong></span> </span></div><div><span style="color:#666666;"><br/></span></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8271752689511069785.post-35613596633528990212008-09-08T23:37:00.004-05:002008-09-08T23:43:55.521-05:00She's the Cheese to His Macaroni<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHX1cgZf4CyEQTraWkTnX94_EkuyOa8CThCHlzIuV2Fp489KKdhYeyWhzEmhyplGXcxu3AsmP9e49y6g8xDzWnrtREpVrj5s6ElnPbHFB9K-_fH2fCzOeqnWm1Ms5Qtfuiabikqi1OJrBH/s1600-h/n12614796_38251768_3032.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243876604376715410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHX1cgZf4CyEQTraWkTnX94_EkuyOa8CThCHlzIuV2Fp489KKdhYeyWhzEmhyplGXcxu3AsmP9e49y6g8xDzWnrtREpVrj5s6ElnPbHFB9K-_fH2fCzOeqnWm1Ms5Qtfuiabikqi1OJrBH/s400/n12614796_38251768_3032.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><strong>A picture is worth a thousand words. So...enough said, right?</strong></span></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#666666;"><br/></span></strong></div>Lisa Draskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18088500054697925971noreply@blogger.com2