I woke up this morning to find that the results for the screenplay championship challenge 2 were posted. Somehow, someway, yours truly found himself at the top of the leaderboard. My screenplay for challenge 2, "Bishop Takes McQueen" took first place in the group. My first screenplay took second place. Together, my combined score propelled me to the top of the group. We are the champions, my friend.
There's one more challenge for this round (I think) this weekend. I'll get the genre, location, and prop at midnight tonight. Let's see what happens. With the snow coming down like an upended snow globe, I won't have much else to do.
Looking back on this last challenge, I was definitely thrown out of my comfort zone. The genre was Romantic Comedy (not my strong suit), the location was an aquarium, and the prop was a chess board. It took me quite a while to get a handle on what I wanted to do but, once I got everything settled out, it came out of my mind onto the page very quickly. It doesn't hurt that it's only five pages. If you're intrigued or morbidly curious, here it is.
On a vaguely related tangent, I'm set to see Mishima: A Life in Four Acts tonight with a post-flick Q and A with director Paul Shrader. I'm looking forward to it.
There are few people in this world who do not know, in the very marrow of their bones, the power of shamwow and do not tremble beneath its absorptive might. It's a shammy, it's a towel, it's a sponge. It is madness.
Do not taunt the shamwow.
Yet, even from this Cthulhian fabric, from which even our souls (or spilled soda) cannot escape, comes something good: video parodies. Here, perhaps, is the best (or atleast my favorite for the moment):
I think the Jersey accent makes it. But it could be the reference to ball sweat. Ah, ball sweat.
Last month, I was confronted by a large inflated rat on my way home from work. Two weeks or so ago, that rat, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, had followed me back to Brooklyn and planted itself in front of the construction site at 163 Washington Avenue, past which I walk every morning on my way to work. My commute is becoming rat-infested.
I still have no idea what the original rat was about but this rat appears connected to some sort of protest against the contractor running the construction site, one Pinmark Contracting. Indeed, this morning, I saw a couple of protestors with flyers and I took one:
According to the flyer, a rally is planned on Saturday, the 20th, at 10 AM. I looked the place up on Brownstoner and found nothing untoward. Google came up empty as well. If there is evil afoot here, it's been kept on the down-low. I'll be staying on top of things, mostly because I have to walk by there every day. My advice to these protestors: you need to get the word out better. And ditch the giant rat. Please.
Sometimes I wonder about my internet skills. Better late than never (I guess), I ran into this gem of a gem of a video positing a sci-fi nerd's dream: putting the Enterprise (Next Generation flavor) up against a Vader-helmed Star Destroyer. Let the battle commence!
To be honest, there was no dumpster and no diving involved. What there was, sitting lonely and forgotten on the curb outside my apartment this morning was a sweet looking chair, much sweeter than the folding chair I currently sit in at the table when I'm typing or eating or generally not lazing on the couch.
Image ahoy!
Ain't she purdy?
I watched Network yesterday as well as read the script as part of my winter scriptwriting initiative. The movie is impressively prescient on so many levels- from shock jocks to reality TV and beyond- but a particular speech I found particularly meaningful to our present. (I've quoted the script below, skip to the bottom to see it in glorious video).
Arthur Jensen:
You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. Beale, and I won't have it, is that clear?! You think you have merely stopped a business deal -- that is not the case! The Arabs have taken billions of dollars out of this country, and now they must put it back. It is ebb and flow, tidal gravity, it is ecological balance! You are an old man who thinks in terms of nations and peoples. There are no nations! There are no peoples! There are no Russians. There are no Arabs! There are no third worlds! There is no West! There is only one holistic system of systems, one vast and immane, interwoven, interacting, multi-variate, multi-national dominion of dollars! petro-dollars, electro-dollars, multi-dollars!, Reichmarks, rubles, rin, pounds and shekels! It is the international system of currency that determines the totality of life on this planet! That is the natural order of things today! That is the atomic, subatomic and galactic structure of things today! And you have meddled with the primal forces of nature, and you will atone! Am I getting through to you, Mr. Beale?
You get up on your little twenty-one inch screen, and howl about America and democracy. There is no America. There is no democracy. There is only IBM and ITT and A T and T and Dupont, Dow, Union Carbide and Exxon. Those are the nations of the world today. What do you think the Russians talk about in their councils of state -- Karl Marx? They pull out their linear programming charts, statistical decision theories and minimax solutions and compute the price-cost probabilities of their transactions and investments just like we do. We no longer live in a world of nations and ideologies, Mr. Beale. The world is a college of corporations, inexorably deter- mined by the immutable by-laws of business. The world is a business, Mr. Beale! It has been since man crawled out of the slime, and our children, Mr. Beale, will live to see that perfect world in which there is no war and famine, oppression and brutality -- one vast and ecumenical holding company, for whom all men will work to serve a common profit, in which all men will hold a share of stock, all necessities provided, all anxieties tranquilized, all boredom amused.
Here it is in video:
Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was.
I hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. I had a most excellent time. But that was yesterday. Today, I am at work while most of America is a churning mass of sweat, flesh, mangled adverts, clawing, sweaty palms, being bilked by false advertising, supply shortfalls, and smarmy, rude salespeople- wait, what am I missing again?
My sister and I drove up to visit our mother's sister (whom we only met a month ago) and her husband (who we hadn't met at all) in Schenectady, NY.
Highlight #1: Seeing a DVD of Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo on the rack of the news shop at a random rest-stop on the New York Thruway:
Highlight #2: Learning that Robert, my mother's sister's husband (he doesn't feel like an uncle), is good friends with Kevin Grevioux who wrote (and had a small role in) Underworld. He also writes for Marvel Comics. How cool is that?
That segways rather imperfectly into this slightly old news. Last weekend was the second challenge in round one of NYC Midnight's 2008 Screenwriting Championship. My first challenge screenplay placed second in my group. I felt better prepared for challenge #2. If you're interested in giving it a read, here it is.
The toddlers of Tribeca deserve a better class of high priced clothing boutique, or at least a high priced clothing boutique that can spell.
Z'baby needs zome help with ze zpelling.
In the interest of full disclosure, I am aware that "scarry" is a word. According to the Free Dictionary:
Scar'ry
a. 1. Bearing scars or marks of wounds.
1. 1. Like a scar, or rocky eminence; containing scars.
Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, published 1913 by C. & G. Merriam Co.
I am assuming that Z'baby meant to advertise a scary sale and not a sale like or resembling scars and wounds. I could be wrong. Maybe wearing wounds is the latest crazy, right up there with pogoing. You be the judge.
As Yakov Smirnoff likes to say, 'What a country!" In this case, the country is Turkey in which the major of a town named Batman, (yes, Batman) is suing just about everyone involved with the celluloid caped crusader. From E Online (via Yahoo):
The mayor of Batman, a small oil-producing town in Turkey, has filed suit against The Dark Knight director Christopher Nolan and Warner Bros., the studio behind the record-shattering blockbuster, looking for a cut in the film's royalties in exchange for using the city's name without permission.
...In addition to the name share, [Batman's Major] claims the emotional distress that apparently comes from having one of the most indelible superheroes share a moniker with your town has led to several unsolved murders and a high suicide rate.
Source: "Batman's Latest Archenemy: Batman" by Gina Serpe
Let's hope the major of Joker, Texas, is less litigious.
I watched the second half of Frontline last night, Boogie Man: The Lee Atwater Story. Thanks to the wonder of DVR technology, I'll watch the front half tonight. Lee Atwater's life is a modern Faust morality play. As a political king-maker, he rose from obscurity to national prominence by doing anything and everything to ensure his side won. And it worked. Really, really well. From the top of the world, things came down hard and fast. After fainting during a speech, doctors discovered a tumor in his brain. In a matter of months, he lost his vitality, his strength, and then his life. Atwater died mostly alone, regretful, vilified by his detractors and never truly embraced by the kings he had made. It's a powerful story.
In other news, Sarah Palin called out bloggers as "kids in pajamas sitting in the basement of their parents' homes" being all mean-like. Oh, really? I for one do not favor PJs. I blog in the raw (a lovely image, I know). Way to make the Republicans seem even more curmudgeonly and out-of-touch, Ms. Palin! You're a pajama-wearing parents's-basement-living bloggers dream!
And now for something completely different: a girl on a pogo stick!
I didn't even know someone still made pogos but nobody told this girl who was happily pogoing down Greenwich Street during my lunch hour yesterday. Out with the new, in with the old! The pogo stick is the new Segway. You heard it hear first.
Marvel Comics must think they can do no wrong. Clearly they must if they're planning yet another Punisher film. From the looks of the poster, they're neither going back to Tom Jane or the venerable Dolf Lundgren (who probably could use the work). I have no idea who this guy is. I'm not sure I care.
Dare I suggest that this film will be right up there (down there) with Elektra and Ghost Rider? Yes, I dare.
I think part of the problem with bringing the Punisher character to the screen is that he really doesn't translate well off the screen. He's too dark, too unrepentant, too stern and grim. He's a character that's just begging for Hollywood to reimagine, soften, and cuddli-fy. Of course, won't that destroy the character? Yes. Yes, they do.
If they really want to do justice to the Punisher, put him against a hero such as in a Spiderman film. So you have the hero, and the anti-hero, and the film can revolve around the question of justice, justification, etc. It could be powerful. It could be. Really.
Barring that, why can't we skip this one and go directly to a Powerman & Iron Fist movie. That's where it's at. Really.
Congratulations to the new president, you've got a lot of work ahead of you and, goodness knows, it's not going to be easy.
Many observers and pundits wondered morbidly what might happen if Obama lost after having the comfortable lead in just about all the polls leading up to election night. Thankfully, we don't have to worry about that. What we will need to worry about is the poison of partisanship that is boiling in this country's life blood. It's endemic on both sides of the two-party fence and it has to stop.
In his speech, Obama inserted a plea to an end of partisanship in his speech but a glance at Politico.com or any other of the campaign-tracking websites will show that his campaign was as guilty as McCain's of playing dirty with spins, half-truths, and outright falsities. It remains to be seen if, having now won the office, he can put down the tools that helped get him there.
My fear has always been that Obama will prove to be an ordinary president, not much different than any other of recent history. However, one thing cannot be understated or forgotten: his election marks a sea change in what is demonstrably possible in the nation. And more, that the youth of this nation can be galvanized behind a cause that they believe in- that such a cause exists at all- and can, in ways that even eluded the promise of the generation of the 1960s, see that cause to conclusion.
My neighborhood has been pro-Obama almost from jump street. From my bedroom, I could here cheers and car horns reverberating from down the block. While I waited for Obama's speech, I snuck out to see what was up.
Back in my trick-or-treating days, I don't remember ever throwing away the sacred vestments of Halloween. Each cloak, each cape, each plastic prop and mask was a transformative charm that could be endlessly repurposed and reused. Apparently, even in a struggling economy, such frugality is no longer in vogue.
Some aspiring wizard is missing his broom.
Not far from the dumped magical implement was this slightly used pumpkin. There's something menacing in the way it stares out from atop its throne of trash:
Why is this guy smiling?
In an attempt to lower my spending a bit this winter, I forwent brunch yesterday to make myself breakfast. In the process, I discovered something completely mind-blowing and wholly evil: Aunt Jemima Complete Pancake Mix. When they say complete, they mean it. All it needs is water, some whisking, and a hot griddle. It was all too easy to make. Though the resulting pancakes were horribly misshapen, they tasted awesome and took no more than five minutes to make from start to finish. This is something I don't need. I have seen the devil and it is thick, golden batter. Oh, sweet, sweet devil.
Samhain and his brood have come and gone, apparently taking the cold weather with them. I played it pretty close to the vest last night. I was tired from the week. I didn't get any trick-o-treaters either. The young ones were already prowling the neighborhood for sucrose when I was getting home from work.
My neighbor spent last night moving out. He and I actually worked for the same company though in different offices and got there by different routes. He had worked for a small company that was then bought out. The overlords decided to jettison most of the acquired crew from that purchase, including him. There's a lesson in this story for me that I'll probably ignore. Moving out of your apartment on Halloween Friday must have been loads of fun.
You won't like him when he's angry... well, angrier anyway.
I watched It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown last night. I always loved the Peanuts holiday specials but this one might be my favorite. Is there any doubt that this is the type of family holiday special that would never get made today? You've got war imagery in the Snoopy vs. Red Baron sequences, you've got the questioning of faith in the Linus and the Great Pumpkin sequences with Lucy's great commercialism-laden rant about the cost of his faith measured in her loss of candy. "I should sue!" she tells him, "I should sue!" I wonder when some righteous group from one end of the spectrum or the other will pull enough strings to get it off the air. Which reminds me, I ought to pick it up on DVD along with the rest of the Peanuts specials.
I saw this while surfing through my morning's news-feeds and I couldn't resist passing it along. Somebody spotted a clown on the G train yesterday. Why am I never around when these things happen? I love a good clown. Even more, I love a bad clown. So what could be better than a subway panhandling street clown (follow the link for a fuzzy picture of the red-haired rascal)? Nothing, I tell you. Absolutely nothing.
In other news, I submitted my script for the first challenge of the Screenwriting Championships 2008. Because I was in Philly on Saturday, I only had Sunday to work on it. Still, I got it done and submitted. I've uploaded it here for your reading pleasure. I called it "Old Man River". It seemed more or less apt and I was under the gun. The next challenge isn't until almost Thanksgiving. Wish me luck!
As they say in Hollywoodland, it's a wrap. Today's casting call is a done deal. Let me say this: I do not want to be a casting director. Do not want.
As an aspiring writer, I've been subject to the buyer's market in which writers are a dime a dozen and publications hold all (or most) of the cards. I had assumed actors were in the same general situation but, until today, I did not realize the extent. To see the number of actors with credits under their name come in to try out for a non-paying part shocked me. I'm still not over it. Attracting an actor looking for experience I expected but to see actors with plenty of experience, experience to spare in a few cases, I did not expect. There are some great actors out there looking for parts. And then there are the others.
First, I have much respect for someone making the time to come and perform cold in front of strangers with zero promise of pay. That being said, some of these folks were scarily bad, some hilariously bad, and some just awful. Easy for me to say, right? Yes, yes it is but no less true.
The coolest thing about this whole day was that I got to watch people act out my words. This stuff I had put to paper was here coming out of people's mouths, with their interpretations, emotions, and energy. My creation had come to life, unpredictable, sometimes great, sometimes not, life. It's alive! It's alive!
After spending the better part of last night waffling over whether to go to Philadelphia this morning, I went, somehow rousing myself up at five this morning to make a 7:00AM train. While I waiting at the station, I wandered into the Hudson News and was confronted by this display:
Disposable DVD rentals? Does this remind anyone of anything?
DIVX was a rental format variation on the DVD player in which a customer would buy a DIVX disc (similar to a DVD) for approximately $4 US, which was watchable for up to 48 hours from its initial viewing. After this period, the disc could be viewed by paying a continuation fee, typically $3.25.(From Wikipedia)
The trick with DIVX was that it needed a dedicated player and involved internet connectivity for some extra-charge billing tomfoolery. It looks like this evolution (called Flexplay) works with ordinary DVD players. It also doesn't have any options for extended rentals or ownership. What's old is new, like bell-bottoms and moon-walking, or something.
Time to play the theme for The Fall Guy because fall, or autumn as i like to call it, has arrived this week in force. The heat is on, the sweaters are out of the mothballs, and the cold weather lethargy has set in.
I mentioned earlier this week that my sister is currently filling out cast and crew for my Great American Short Film. This weekend she'll be conducting auditions. I'm tempted to roll down to Philly and take part but maybe it's better I don't. I'm torn. Plus, if I go down for the shoots the next two weekends, that would be three weekends in a row out of town and away from my brand new (awesome) couch. I need to break it in with some serious couching this weekend.
If I can tear myself away from the couch and away from Saints Row 2, Fable 2, and Little Big Planet, I do have a short story (sci-fi) that's been rattling around my brain for months that I need to get down onto virtual paper. Strike while the iron is hot, my grandmother always says.
In other furniture news, I still need some kind of coffee table. I really like this one but it's too pricey for me at the moment. Maybe if I get some floos (money) for Xmas, I'll pull the trigger. Unless I can find a cheaper version somewhere. Thus far I've had no luck.
It's been almost a week since I saw W.. I'll post some (more) complete thoughts later but for now, I'll say only that I enjoyed it. The performances across the board are excellent and really make the experience.
A couple of good-looking flicks open this weekend that I want to see. Of course I've said that before recently and not pulled the trigger to go see them. This weekend will be different! Probably. Maybe. Did I mention it's cold outside?
After some wrangling, the couch was successfully delivered. It took more doing than I had hoped for but we got it in. As I had feared, my calculations were off- not by much, but by just enough to make wedging the couch in impossible. However, I had a trump card: I had them bring the couch upstairs, around, and down. It was a gamble. I only have access upstairs in my walkup via an inside door that is usually locked... from the other side. However, today the door was unlocked so we were in business and got the couch in around down and through. I can now count myself amongst the couch-enabled.
As a bonus, here's a bit of halloweenerie I spotted on my way to the subway, post couch delivery:
I don't like the way they looked at me.
For reasons of only pure, unadulterated laziness, I took the better part of ten days off. I have no excuse and I actually had a lot to say but somewhere between my brain and my keyboard, it all got lost. In order to absolve myself of guilt, I shall blame Saints Row 2 which I've been playing on my 360. Perhaps I should take Dr. Phil's Gaming Addictive Behavior Audit. Probably not.
I'm home from work this morning because I am having a couch delivered. My speed at furnishing my apartment could be described as glacial but this is a big step. Actually, it's the first brand-new couch that I've ever bought. I am excited... provided they can get it into the buildings. I think I've mastered the arcane formulations and calculations of mass and space but I have my doubts. I shall soon see if the mind can really conquer matter.
I've written two short screenplays (one inspired by the Brooklyn Film Race). My sister, an aspiring film director, is planning on filming both of them, beginning next week with the longer of the two (as yet untitled). Here are the cast and crew calls:
Untitled Student Project
The project is a dark comedic short that takes an offbeat look at climbing the corporate ladder. The project will be shot across two weekends in November in and around Philadelphia. Our budget is very limited, so we will not be able to offer compensation, but meals and a reel will be provided.
We are looking for hard-working volunteers who share our passion for excellence in filmmaking. We will be taking this short to the Cannes International Film Festival as well as others.
This is a great opportunity for anyone trying to expand their resume and their reel!
Format: miniDV
Compensation: Meals and Credit
Location: Philadelphia Area
Breakdown (age ranges are flexible):
ALEX-Lead / Male / All Ethnicities / age 25 - 35
Description: Strong-willed main character who challenges the status quo and is forced to fight for his survival. An ordinary man thrown into an extraordinary situation.
JOHN-Co-Star / Male / All Ethnicities / age 25 - 45
Description: Alex’s best friend at the office. Is faced with a dire situation when he is shown a possible successful future brutally taken away. Looking for a male who can easily cry.
SANDMAN-Featured / Male / All Ethnicities / age 25 - 45
Description: A character inspired by Logan's Run. Mysterious and intimidating man. Works for the corporation and functions as Alex’s antagonist for the majority of the film. Stunt experience a plus.
FELIX-Featured/ Male / All Ethnicities / age 25 - 45
Description: Slight and bitter maintenance man that works at the office building. He is tired of fixing the Sandman's damage around the office.
FLO-Featured / Female / All Ethnicities / age 25 - 45
Description: Discontent cleaning woman who doesn't feel like cleaning up anymore.
THULSA-Featured / Male / Caucasian / age 40 - 65
Description: CEO of the corporation. Imposing boss that is pulling all the strings behind the scenes.
THORGRIM-Featured / Male / Caucasian, Hispanic, Multi-Ethnic / age 25 - 35
Description: A character inspired by Conan the Barbarian and one of Thulsa’s bodyguards. Must be extremely well built and be willing to wear barbarian garb and wield a battle-ax.
REXOR-Featured / Male / Caucasian, Hispanic, Multi-Ethnic / age 25 - 35
Description: A character inspired by Conan the Barbarian and one of Thulsa’s bodyguards. Must be extremely well built and be willing to wear barbarian garb and wield a giant maul.
OFFICE EMPLOYEES-Cameo / Male or Female / All Ethnicities / age 20 - 65
Description: Employees who have been broken and tortured by the same means as John.
Auditions will be held by appointment only on Friday October 24th and Saturday October 25th at the University of Pennsylvania. Please email us your resume and availability to schedule an appointment and receive a set of sides. Please contact us no later than Thursday October 23rd.
Contact Information:
Name: Courtney Terwilliger
Email: championsfilms [at] gmail [dot] com
Untitled Student Project
The project is a dark comedic short that takes an offbeat look at climbing the corporate ladder. The project will be shot across two weekends in November in and around Philadelphia. Our budget is very limited, so we will not be able to offer compensation, but meals and a reel will be provided.
We are looking for hard-working volunteers who share our passion for excellence in filmmaking. We will be taking this short to the Cannes International Film Festival as well as others.
This is a great opportunity for anyone trying to expand their resume and their reel!
Format: miniDV
Compensation: Meals and Credit
Location: Philadelphia Area
Crew:
Director of Photography
Camera Operator
Gaffer
Sound Recorder/Mixer
Wardrobe
Makeup
Production Assistants
Interviews will be held by appointment only on Friday October 24th and Saturday October 25th at the University of Pennsylvania. Please email us your resume and availability to schedule an appointment no later than Thursday October 23rd.
Contact Information:
Name: Courtney Terwilliger
Email: championsfilms [at] gmail [dot] com
If you or someone you know is interested in participating, drop her a line.
It looks like the spirit of... spirits is catching on the block. Just two doors down from the first building to undergo a fiendish face-lift arises another makeover of malevolent intent. At this rate the entire 'hood will be transformed into Halloween-Town before you know it.
Beware the Oogie Boogie!
My apartment, for reasons that a non-arachnid mind cannot hope to fathom, has become home to a league, a colony, a collective, of wiry, thin-limbed spiders.
In particular, my bathroom has become their adopted habitat. My trashcan, my radiator, my claw-foot tub have all become anchors for their silken demesnes. I watch them hang motionless from their perches and, I suppose, they also watch me.
My invasive neighbors withstanding, I live in a bug free space. It hadn't occurred to me precisely why it was bug free. I live in a ground floor garden apartment. I often open my windows (now with screens) and there must be numerous dark, hidden ways leading from the outside to the inside. Indeed, such ways had been used by probing, exploratory assaults by the warlike queens of both ants and termites in the spring. However, long ago did I slay their armies. As the pharaohs of old, I made them as those that exist not.
Which brings me back to the spiders: who are they? what do they want? I don't know. As predators of insects, I appreciate their silent guard of my domain. My domain, however, has rules. The bedroom, the kitchen, and attacks on my most eminent personage are all off limits. The penalty for any breach is death. My word is law. There is no appeal. I announced my decree this morning. They have been warned.
It's October, it's getting cold, and Halloween is fast approaching. One spot on Washington Ave. got a head start on the decoration rush. I hope this is just the start of things to come.
Anyone want to bet on how fast they'll get their Thanksgiving decorations up? I'm betting it's the day after Halloween.
The week seems to be moving apace. As I sit at lunch (well, waiting for lunch), I've got nothing to fill this empty space but a few random tidbits from yesterday.
First, there was the inflatable chicken-man that menaced the road from the subway to the safety of the office. Customarily, one or several papmhleteers stake out the fertile ground between the subway and the office. They hover, not unlike buzzards, seeking to prey on the unwary. The chicken-man, however, took things to another level.
I never knew the appeal of a giant chicken shilling for a chicken restaurant. I still don't.
I allow myself to get signed up for various newsletters and e-flyers, generally because every blue moon they actually produce a useful coupon. I received one from Gamestop yesterday that included this gem:
It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Kingdom
There's nothing like a legend of untold riches to start a frenzied race to find it, like in the movie It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. With King's Bounty: The Legend, you can play in adventure mode or battle mode as a Warrior, Paladin or Mage as you search for the treasure under the big "W," but you won't be able to play as Buddy Hackett or Milton Berle. King's Bounty: The Legend is now available for PC. Order online or visit your local GameStop.
First, let me commend the copywriter on his reference to the classic film, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. I, for one, appreciate it. However, I can't help but guess that the film, Buddy Hackett, and Milton Berle, are somehow beyond the ken of the forever coveted 18-25 year old male. This is 2008, Gamestop. Buddy Hackett? Milton Berle? Really? Could you not find any movie within the last... forty years to fit the theme?
To stick a bit on the theme of videogames, I was in Kmart yesterday (I needed socks) when I saw these beauties:
Well, now I know what I want for Christmas. Or not. Somebody somewhere has gone too far. Too far, I say!
I saw the Ed Harris western, Appaloosa, with my sister in Philly. It is interesting in that it is a portrait of relationships that, in ways, turn the familiar Western tropes on their sides. I'm not sure though that it is ultimately successful though I did enjoy it.
When you've got Ed Harris and Viggo Mortenson at work, you know there's going to a basic high level of performance and it shows. Rene Zellwegger fills out the third point of this protagonistic triangle with Jeremy Irons playing the villain (why he's so villainous we never really know- though we do get hints at his motives).
While we at least get hints of why the men do what they do, Zellwegger's character's motivation is utterly puzzling to me. She is certainly complex but perhaps too complicated and too incomprehensible. It was difficult for me to sympathize with her when I can't figure out a motive to match her behavior.
Because much of the movie concerns itself with that behavior, and the results, this puzzlement can do nothing but detract from what the film is trying to do. Despite this weakness, there is a good western here.
In the Unforgiven vein, gunfights are short and sharp. The best gunmen aren't the strongest or fastest but the most heartless. Appaloosa is clearly striving to wonder what happens when the heart intrudes into heartless men. It doesn't wholly succeed but it is worth watching it try. Having personal fave Lance Henriksen in a small role doesn't hurt either.
It's a funny, strange thing to meet family that you've never seen or heard of before. It's mostly impossible to guess what it'll be like, whether everyone will get along or if furtive glances will speak to pangs of deep misjudgment. Luckily, everyone got along just fine.
Having thus made first contact with the natives of this lost familial continent, I can now say this with pride: my uncle is Frederick Douglass. Okay, he's not precisely Frederick Douglass, he simply plays one, among other historical personages of import, as well as teaches middle school. In the tradition of all great uncles, he is funny and loquacious. My aunt has courageously battled back and recovered from Lupus related nastiness.
The only thing I've battled through is my cousin in a game of Madden (Jets 24, Colts 0 baby!), not exactly impressive in light of the achievements on display that night. I definitely have work to do.
I don't suppose there's a market for impersonating minor historical figures like say... a young Walter Mondale, is there?
... I really have work to do.
A Facebook comment inspired my mind to wander in the direction of '80s session super-group Toto, specifically the song Africa. Yet, somewhere along the way, I found myself confronted by the lyrics to that other '80s group, Asia and In the Heat of the Moment. I must confess that I dig the tune but I'd never actually paid much attention to the lyrics. There are some heavy, heavy words in there. Check out the last stanza:
And when your looks have gone and you're alone
How many nights you sit beside the phone
What were the things you wanted for yourself
Teenage ambitions you remember well
That, friends and Romans, is some deep thought, right there.
In more uplifting news, I found, courtesy of NeoGAF, perhaps the finest GIF ever. EVER.
So help me, I can't stop looking at it. I can't. Who am I gonna call? Who am I gonna call!?!
I was on my way home from work today when I meandered past the movie poster for Saw V. That's the Roman V as in five. Five. Really? Do we really need another Saw film? What spare acre of rough acre in the Saw landscape can this film tread that has not already been tread?
In all fairness, I have not seen any of the Saw films. However, I read the reviews and talk to friends who have been friendly to the torture-porn series. Even so, by all accounts, this franchise has been heading steady downward since Saw II, fully three films ago. By all objective measures, this film should be a direct-to-video Frank Stallone vehicle. This is Uwe Boll material. No, this is beneath Uwe Boll material.
Yet, somehow, despite my righteous indignation, this film looks to come out "just in time for Halloween" as the movie pitchmen like to say. Just in time for me... to see something else.
When all I have to talk about is my failure to download the hyped-on-the-box BD-Live feature from the Iron Man blu-ray, you know it's a slow week.
I wasted over two hours trying to download this feature that I really didn't even care about before I finally gave up on it. Luckily, I went to dinner during this dead time and didn't suffer overmuch.
Word comes via blu-ray.com that confirms Paramount had bandwidth issues regarding the download content:
The Iron Man Blu-ray went on sale Tuesday and... an unprecedented demand was placed on the BD-Live connection... As such, the heavy amount of traffic strained the servers due to so many people heading to the same destination.
Source: "Iron Man BD-Live Statement from Paramount" by Ben Williams
There you have it, from the horse's head itself. I still don't know if this "first of its kind BD-Live application" is worth the hassle (or any hassle). I'm guessing not but, if someone has seen this groin-grabbingly wonderful application, maybe you can tell me what it actually is.
In what will surely be a made-for-TV movie coming soon to the Hallmark, Family, or Lifetime (possibly) channel, my mother was able to re-connect with her (literally) long-lost half-brother and half-sisters this week via Facebook. As a result, I now have an excess of riches in the aunt, uncle, and cousin department.
In the beginning, I was quite apathetic towards the different social networking sites, especially MySpace. However, two things won me over to Facebook. First, it has a clean, mature, professional look. Second, I found many old friends that I had lost in my trails, travels, and travails through the site. When one of my mother's old friends popped up on the 'book, I told her she ought to join up.
Fast forward a few months and my mother decided, on a lark, to try searching for one of her half-sisters whom she hadn't seen in forty years or so, give or take a few years. Surprise of surprises, she got a hit. Not long after, first contact was made.
Casting Note: The part of my mother will be played by either Valerie Bertinelli, Jo from Facts of Life (Nancy McKeon), or Bebe Neuwirth.
As of... now, three siblings have been reclaimed from the murky waters of Lethe. Conveniently, none of them live far from me or my sister. Consequently, the first meeting in the flesh between the lost family branches will take place next Saturday in Philadelphia. We're all very excited.
I guess this means I can be counted among the social networking success stories. I have to give them credit where credit is due. It's times like this that make me forget the propagation of cyber-stalkers, hackers, spam-artists and mega-perverts that these sites seem to spawn with geometric rapidity. So, with that caveat, thanks Facebook, I owe you one. Don't let it go to your head.
Production Note: My script, tentatively titled "Time Bandits Stole My Family" (based on a true story) is being handled by top men at an important studio. Top. Men.
It's funny. Every time it rains in the city the aftermath is written in the scattered skeletal remains of broken umbrellas. Their spines twisted, nylon skins ripped and flayed, their bodies lie crumpled and forgotten on the sidewalk or in the street or else ingloriously dumped into trash cans.
It occurs to me whenever I witness this carnage that the cost of more expensive, durable umbrellas is totally justified. After sacrificing a couple of cheap drug-store umbrellas on the altar of the stern New York winds, spending $30 or $40 for a umbrella that will last not only seems like a good idea but a prudent one. A gentleman should not be without a good umbrella.
My friend Paul sent me this tidbit from Dark Horizons:
They may be amongst the weakest films he's done, but Will Smith's two most recent major hits look like they're about to become franchises.
Source: "Legend" Prequel, "Hancock" Sequel? by Garth Franklin
My response? No. And I mean it. No.
I was a huge found of WipeOut XL on the Playstation. However, since then I had drifted away from the series. It was therefore with much anticipation that I downloaded the brand new WipeOut HD from the PSN store. I was feeling the need, the need for speed.
I only had a chance to fire up a few races but I learned something valuable in the process: I stink at WipeOut HD. Whatever skills I had I let drift a long time ago. Out of three races, the best I finished was 6th (out of 8). My other finishes? 7th and 7th. Both times the 8th racer did not finish due to obliteration. Basically, I finished last, last, and then close to last. I can say this: I am trending upward. That's gotta count for something, right? Don't answer that.
It goes without question that the game is an absolute beauty to behold, hear, and play. At $19.95, it's absolutely cheap for what it delivers in terms of quality and quantity, including online play. However, at my current skill level, online is the last place you'll find me. I don't need some mouthy 12 year old to tell me how much I suck. Not yet anyway. Queue the training montage!
Sometimes you just know you're getting sick. I knew it the moment I woke up this morning. There was a rough patch at the back of my throat that scraped like sandpaper at every inhaled breath, every sip sip and swallow. I took what precautions I could but as I walked home this evening in the light rain, I felt the shiver, the slight lightheadedness that told me the fever was coming.
My feverish sleep seemed to dilate space-time itself. I felt like Elric of Melniboné, trapped in a place without time, beset by demons so terrible and fell that I dared not name them, kept alive only by a curse almost as horrible as the creatures that attacked me. Surely, if I awoke from this infinite torment, I would find myself in an alabaster sarcophagus, in a forgotten marble tomb. A fine dust would cover me. My name would be forgotten and even my people dead beyond legend. I would wake to find the world thrown upside-down in time. Only Ookla the Mok would stand beside me to take on a world I hadn't made, a world that had forgotten me.
When I did finally awake from the half-sleep, chilled from hot sweat gone cold, and beyond (at least for the moment) fever's ragged touch, I looked at the clock: barely two hours had passed since I had gone abed. How is this possible?
Clearly the Lords of Chaos have plans for me, here, and in this time. Tis a sobering thought. The fever is gone though. At least I can get some sleep.
I managed to do two things this weekend: put together a new TV stand and play NHL 09. While it's nice to have the TV elevated off the floor, the former was not nearly as fun as the latter.
I was big into hockey games going back to the classic Genesis titles but I had gotten away from them until recently. NHL 08 rekindled my interest in the games and 09 has added gasoline to the fire.
The big draw has become the online and offline Be A Pro modes. What is it? You play as a single player on the team of your choice. No switching between all the players and no control of the coaching decisions. When you're guy hits the bench for a line change, you sit, when he plays, you play. While the scope of play is therefore more limited than the usual total team control, I also found it liberating. I don't agonize over team losses because I'm not wholly responsible for them. I've also got a finer appreciation of the role of a single position and the discipline to confine yourself to that role. Try to do too much and suddenly you're out of position. Bad things tend to happen when you're out of position. Seeing a great play materialize out of solidly playing your position is a great reward and more meaningful because the play had to form outside your sole control.
Online play only takes this sensation and improves it. Now, it isn't you and a bunch of AI guys but you and a bunch of real people. Being online poses the same hazard of asshattery as other online games but the experience when you can find a team of people willing and able to play team hockey is the best online sports game experience I've had. It took me a bit to convince myself to try to go online (fears of idiot kids and morons) but, once I did, I was hooked.
Once nice feature: during games, the only chatter you hear is from your own team. A nice touch to at least avoid some random idiocy.
There is one catch to all this concentrated win: joining games can be seriously buggy. Seriously, annoyingly buggy. There's nothing that can more efficiently sap fun than to constantly struggle to get into a game. Once in, the game is gold. Getting there can be way more of a struggle than it ought to be. Hopefully, whatever is causing the problems can be patched. It's not bad enough not to bear but it ought to be patched. It needs to be patched.
I'd stop playing in protest but... I can't do it. I'm already thinking about by next shift on the ice.
I've gone into the Space stage in Spore but rather than the game opening up for epic exploration and discovery, I find instead that it has constricted the game mechanics until the endless repetition of frustrating busy-work is almost the antithesis of fun.
I imagined the Space stage to be the embodiment of Star Trek's "to boldly go" axiom but, unfortunately, this impulse is aggressively thwarted by a system of inter-galactic politics and bureaucratic hand-holding.
The first issue is money. Spice is the only commodity in the Spore universe. It must be harvested then sold for money. This, in itself, is not an issue. The issue is that the spice economy must be manually supervised. There is no automation. I have to go from planet to planet, picking up spice, then going from planet to planet, selling it for the highest price I can find. I can set up trading routes between star systems but this, oddly enough, does not automate this system. It's only use is to fill a meter that, when filled, will let me buy the star system.
Now I am busy with economic pursuits but still I have time to reach out into the void and explore. Exploring inevitably leads to contact with other space faring races. For some reason, a good number of these hate me on first contact. Before I know it, my homeworld or one of my colonies is calling me to defend them from hostile attack. Some are only pirates but most are from these mysteriously hateful, aggressive empires. Sometimes you can pay them off but often I didn't have enough money. The attacks begin. Once they begin, they don't seem to let up. Ever.
So, instead of working my way towards towards the galactic core, I find myself fighting the same tired battles over and over again, building and rebuilding my beaten down colonies, and then trying to build my bank roll back up before the next, inevitable attack.
I suppose I could go and destroy the empires attacking me. I could but that isn't what I want to do. In a game that implies so many choices, why do I feel like I'm railroaded down a single path? Still, if that's the only way to get some breathing room, I guess I'll have to do it. I'll do it. But I won't call it fun. Because it's not. I just have no other choice.
I watched the pilot and second episode of the new show Fringe via Hulu. I've heard it characterized as a poor man's X-Files but I find it leaning closer towards Millenium, shadow groups, patterns of paranormal events, and (so far) a lack of alien intervention.
At this point, I'd say Fringe is a step below those other shows but it is still showing me enough that I'll keep watching. Each episode to this point has been a single serving. I wonder if any over-arching story will emerge. Only time will tell.
Well, I've been playing Spore. It's an interesting animal: both toy and game, linear and sandbox at turns, single player and massively multiplayer. for my money, the creators are the most interesting aspects of the package. Through them, creatures, vehicles, and buildings can be created, customized, and shared through the Spore universe. As a creator, you build creatures or things and then share them. Once shared, they may appear in other people's games. It's a great feeling to get a message from a stranger that they encountered your homemade creature on some distant planet in a distant game. Unfortunately, so far, Spore doesn't provide enough depth and control to really take advantage of our creativity.
To be sure, there are plenty of physical choices to be had. All it takes is a short glance at the Sporepedia to see the width and breadth of people's imaginations brought to virtual life. However, this creativity is only skin deep. There is so much we can't do, such as set behaviors, habitats, attitudes, etc. Is my critter a social animal, travelling in packs, or does he wander alone? Is he nocturnal? Is he aggressive or passive? Do they live if forests or plains, mountains or valleys? Do they migrate or stay put? I'd love to have control of not only what my creature looks like in another game but how it behaves in other games. Right now, I can't do it.
Even though we're essentially gods leading our creatures from single cells all the way to space, even though we can manipulate how our creatures evolve, our scope is limited. I'd like to be able to build my creatures then let them go and watch. Instead, often I'm embroiled in the minutia of empire building that, in this game, I don't fundamentally care to do. Unlike in The Sims, I must personally shepherd my creature at all times. I am trapped by my avatar.
I hope, via expansion, that such vistas of less limited godhood will be opened up, in which I can really stir up nature's pot and watch it coalesce without worrying about such mundane concerns as feeding a handful of critters, building cities, or balancing alliances between petty empires. This is what I want and I still hope, at some stage, Spore will deliver it. Still, it's not bad fun as it us. It just could be more, much more.
Here are a couple of my creations (works in progress all):
It is weird watching the great media anticipation surrounding Ike's inexorable march towards the Texas coast because, right up until a couple of years ago, I was there. I was there for Katrina and I was there for Rita. I've got plenty of friends and family who are there now. It's different watching it from afar, where the only fallout from the big storm will be some extra rain and a lot of gratuitous news coverage. There's a palpable disconnect now because I'm not there. I'm just another bystander tuning in to watch the giant storm donut churn over the gulf. It's a strange feeling.
Am I the only one who thinks of Ike Turner every time I hear or read the name Hurricane Ike? I guess it's a silly question because I know I'm not, having received this wonderfully evocative image in my email inbox today (thanks Paul, Shaun):
Well, if there's anything that can stop Ike, it's Tina.
So, for the city of Houston, Harris county, and the state of Texas, please play the above YouTube video or any of the many great singles, EPs, or albums of the incomparable Tina Turner. It may be their only hope.
Hang in there, H-Town!
