Life These Days

Its been a while.

And in one voice you say: "Amen!"

Nearly two months has gone by, (not quietly, I should add) since I last wrote. My apologies.
Pluto still lives in exile, but most of the other matters I mentioned in my last post have faded into distant memory. So if you were to ask me about something I mentioned a while ago, please don't be offended if you don't get anything but a blank stare.

In six weeks a great deal has changed. I have a new home. I have new opportunities. New challenges. New scenery. New underwear. New friends. (The old ones kinda blew.)

It occurs to me that I've not really gone into too great of detail about different aspects of my life since this summer began. The simple truth: I've become lazy with regards to this blog. It has surprised me to find out that people have actually been checking in to see what's up, and how disappointed they must be recently. I believe I should make it a higher priority. Sleep, already a precious commodity, will have to take another one for the team.

I anticipate several sessions in order to try and say all that should be said...


I now reside in the lovely Cleveland suburb of Chagrin Falls. An old, historic town which has not changed much on the face in the last one hundred years.
There is actually a waterfall here,(see photo) as well as a popcorn shop, an Hermes boutique and a well-patronized Starbucks. Aside from that, the hills are sprinkled with various high-priced homes, some old and historic (like the one in which I currently reside,) and some which are shiny new trophies, wearing a pair of freshly waxed Lexus' like a pair of earrings.

I have been rather ashamed at times to enjoy my time here so much. After living six years in Cleveland, (not exactly the envy of the country) and experiencing so much economic segregation, I have been embarassed to be in the midst of so much wealth. People here have done quite well, attending the appropriate college so that they could achieve "the" job and make "the" money for "the" car, and it has been such a inverse experience from metro Cleveland.
In Cleveland, to have nothing, means you complained about it, took pride in your poverty and generally kept it near the front of your mind.
In Chagrin Falls, you have a great deal, discuss it with your other equally wealthy and attractive friends, take great pride in your position, become bored and go buy a new sport coat.
I can not and will not fault anyone for their successes, but it is a sad truth that many of these people are owned by their possessions. Yet if someone offered me $200,000 a year to play viola, would I turn it down?

My second mother has taken me in, given me shelter, and even food. A warm bed and a place which I am instructed to call home. There are no words to express my gratitude to her, and I fear I could not afford an object which might express it for me. "It's the little things," I'm told.
I have discovered a weakness: housework. I abhor it, and I am also abhorent at it. If you give me a mop and instruct me to "look busy," I must fight very hard against my synapes shutting off. Vision becomes blurry. I stagger about as a man lost and confused, grasping at anything around me, knocking things to the floor, only to realize that I now have to clean that up as well. It is, as you say, NOT a gifting.

I can complete a household task, but I have no instinct for it. I must be instructed as to what chore to perform, for I could stand in front of Mt. St. Helens and innocently ask "what mess?"

I strive to do better. I shall do my laundry. I shall not leave my shoes lying about. I shall wash dishes. I will not trap the cat between the screen and outer doors. I will try to make my bed.

It does not look hopeful for that last one.

To Fill Up the Time I work at the Stone Oven Bakery in Cleveland Heights. No, we don't bake the bread on premises, but it is done downtown in our own bakery. And yes, the oven is made of stone.

(I intend to start a competing venture named the "Dutch Oven." Anyone? Anyone? Good. A few of you are laughing.)

I made the brilliant gesture of telling the store owner, John, that I would like to work 30 - 40 hours a week. Then school began again, and 60% of the work force returned to school, leaving about six of us holding onto the bread basket. I've gotten a good many hours of work there, which has helped to bring in steady income, but somewhere between your 3,500th turkey and provlone sandwich and a poppyseed tea biscuit you begin an inner dialogue with yourself that sometimes leads to disastrous consequences.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?"

A cup of coffee, I'll bet.

"Do you want the apricot, raspberry or poppyseed?"

Ooh, a tea biscuit. Way to shake things up there...

"Anything else for you?"

Remind me again; what is it you do?

"That'll be $1.85."

...'cause I remember that you were in college for something. Now what was it...

"Thank you."

Ah, big tipper. A whole 'nother 15 cents to split three ways! In another three months you can buy that bag of Doritos you were eying at Walgreens last night. I saw you. Don't try and hide it from me. I'm you, remember?

"Hi, do you know what you want?"

Oh, wait. Didn't we do something in music?

"What kind of bread do you want that on?"

Ten bucks says she goes for the multigrain.
Aha! You owe yourself ten bucks.

"And what side do you want with that?"

Here it comes.....

"Potato Chips, Tabouli or Cous cous are your choices."

Tabouli. Tabouleh. Taloubah...

Cous Chip chip. Potatoah Chip Chip

"That'll be $6.45"

In your ear.

"And what name can we call whe your order's ready?"

Why can't the women be younger who eat here?

Ethel. Figures.




Eight hours later we emerge having done battle against the ravages of dirty dishes, the onslaught of the bread slicer and of course, the mind numbing psychological war fare of prattle with the customers. How much of this stuff can some people eat? I don't have to pay for it and I'm kind of tired of it! Why would you pay seven bucks a day for it?!

I could do a whole lot worse when it comes to a job, but I have grown so increasingly thankful for my music making gigs which take me away from the Stone Prison for days at a time. Case in point: this weekend. But that's a story for next time, kids.

T.

Tomato florentine, tornados and Pluto: see receipe for weirdest week yet.

The events of this week push my existence into the realm resembling something like a Twilight Zone episode. Whether it be tumultuous friendships exploding, the very existence of our solar system being pulled apart by technicality or tornados ripping through the grocery store parking lot, this week has led me to believe in the Ordinance of cosmic fate. If everything gets lined up just right, solar flares from Alpha Centuri can really mess with you, man...

I know its been a good whiel since I've posted anything meaningful on this blog. My apologies. The good news: the internet has been hooked up again here at the house, meaning that I'll be able to post more frequently and without having to trek down to campus in order to post. But this is relatively old news.

Pluto has been ruled a "dwarf planet" by a group of astronomers all gathered together somewhere in Europe, discussing the cosmos, life and the preference for wax paper over foil as potato chip bags through a cloud of pot smoke. I don't know how these NASA geeks get anything done.

In any event, the geniuses that be have voted Pluto off the island, leaving us with a meager eight to fight for the champion of "Survivor: Galaxy." What will those CBS execs think of next? My money's on Venus to get the boot next. She's been a shrew ever since the first millenium, and I think Uranus and Neptune have just about had enough.

I will soon find myself without a gym to go to. My membership expires, and I know of no other place that offers a monthly subscription. Doesn't this seem a little retarded? In any event, i'm training myself to get used to not having one (especially in a move out to a community where there is not activity center) by getting ready for running a 5K next month. It seems a good incentive to keep the running up. I want to shoot for a time between 21 and 23 minutes to complete. I do not expect a victory, just the thrill of competition. Beyond that, I've also started biking again, exploring the endless honeycomb of roads that tangle their way through Cleveland and Shaker Heights.

A Eulogy:
Charles Barr (31), bassist with the Cleveland Orchestra died two weeks ago today while on his bike in Cleveland Heights. While entering onto the road, he was unexpectedly hit by an oncoming truck, and was later pronounced dead at the scene by Cleveland EMS. His death has sent shock waves through the community, both musical and residential. It has given pause and a reason for us all to question more what we believe in, and the ultimate uncertainty of our existence. We do not know when our time will come up, and it is an excellent reason to question what we hold faith in.

I have already had the appointed opportunity to have a conversation on this topic with friends who do not believe. Is it not ironic, tragic and yet fitting that the greatest good a man could accomplish might only be in his death?

T.

Ladies and Gentlemen....

Introducing: Imogen Heap

More famously known as half of the British electronica duo Frou Frou, (contributing member to the best-selling soundtracks for the films Garden State and Shrek 2, Imogen's haunting and distinct voice became well known, but her solo work - which has only been released since the 2003 disbandment of Frou Frou - has been flying almost entirely under the radar.

But here's your heads up: before Zach Braff's new film hits theaters next month, you can check out her music at places such as MySpace or imogenheap.com to get a taste of her style. The key track: the beautiful, haunting and remarkable "hide and seek."

Reminiscent of Bjork (an influence that cannot entirely be overlooked since Heap's counterpart in Frou Frou has had a long history of working with the Icelandic songstress,) yet with more intensity, the show here is undoubtedly Imogen's inimitable vocal stylings - not only the unique sound of her voice, but also the acrobatic ease with which she flies through very difficult vocal lines and tight (ocassionally) dissonant harmonies which she recorded all her self.

Well worth the listen, expect her to be well known on college radio and indie music circuits after Zach Braff's movie opens. Considering the explosion of interest in the artists featured on his last soundtrack (and the incredible care with which he chose the music,) "Hide and Seek" is sure to bring some much deserved light to the work of Imogen Heap.

T.

Hot Tracks of the Day:

Gorillaz - Dirty Harry
Chad Vangaalen - J.C.'s Head on the Cross
Hive - Ultrasonic Sound
Damien Marley - Road to Zion
Gnarls Barkley - Transformer

Check these out for good grooves...

T.

Ladies and Gentlemen: OKGo!

This band is something I dabbled with a little bit a few years ago, but I recently rediscovered their tunes, and my ears have grown to love it. Perfect combinations of equal parts pop and edgy rock make this a fun band to listen to.
An added bonus: the band is perfectly self-aware, not taking themselves too seriously in any of their going-ons, but determinedly never mainstream. The end result: a hidden treasure of tuneful melodies ideally suited to the paisely-adorned hipster who didn't ever give up on his candy-coated listening habits.

What forced me to rediscover OKGo was seeing the music video for their song "Here it Goes Again" and realizing how brilliant the idea was. Decidedly lo-tech, you must see how this band treats eight treadmills used simultaneously to craft their video. The most amazing part: its all done in one take. Take that, Michael Gondry.

Check out the band's website to bask in the group's on-the-head funky image. You can watch music videos from their own site at okgo.net, but you'll have to head to youtube.com to catch the treadmill action.

OkGo has certainly garnered its legions of followers all over the world, and perhaps one day they will really get the attention that is deserving of them, but until then, we get to enjoy the self-amusing music videos from a band that apparently doesn't have enough to do.

The icing on the cake: The band's drummer, (the bald one who is both lip-syncher and ring leader in the music video,) Dan Konopka, is brother to Stanley Konopka, associate principal viola of the Cleveland Orchestra. Funny we don't hear him talk about him a whole lot. Of course, this is the same violist who had a family member married to Jason Newsted (of Metallica) and never mentioned that either. Weird family. At least they kept the same haircut.

T.

Movie Review: The Oh in Ohio
Starring: Parker Posey, Paul Rudd, Mischa Barton, Heather Graham, Danny DeVito
Directed by: Billy Kent

Could-be cult fav settles for C-minus filmmaking.

One of numerous trips to a local tavern started out innocently enough: an order of barbecue chicken wings, a pint and some conversation. Nothing that would merit any notice, except for the fact that halfway through the meal a pair of appropriately clad individuals, claiming to be technical members of a film crew entered our area of the restaurant with the request that we not move around or make any sort of unnecessary noise so as not to disturb the quality of sound recording going on during the filming next door. Our curiosity piqued, we obliged in exchange for a lengthy conversation with one member of the film crew as to what was going on next door.
The crewman informed us that both Heather Graham and Parker Posey were next door filming scenes for an upcoming motion picture, tentatively titled the Oh in Ohio.

A bit over a year later, this film has a limited release all across the United States, including one independent theatre here in Cleveland, the film’s hometown.
Quite obviously the film takes place in Cleveland, both because of the locale known to all of us Cleveland locals, but also because the characters remind us repeatedly during the first half hour of film. There is, apparently, some great love the writers have for Cleveland, choosing to craft a film so devoted to the “Roar on the Shore.”

The Premise: of this film is so mature in nature, I’m not quite sure what I can mention here without becoming obscene. The entire reason I ever saw this film was that it was shot in many locations both on my university campus and in neighborhoods in which my friends live. Sadly, the topics of dialogue during this film often times reach such levels of depravity that this marked the first time I actually considered walking out on a movie.

This was not what I was expecting to occur. I knew the plot’s mature themes, but I expected them to be handled a little bit more frivolously, turning the entire issue into something of a laughing stock. Instead, writer/director Billy Kent strives to create a psycho-comedic art film about the tragedy that effects “30 million” women all over America. Along the way enlisting the help of Liza Minelli, which very well may have been the funniest scene in the entire movie.

This movie was torn between several existences. One is a raunchy, frat-house comedy involving an endless parade of genital jokes, and the other, a poignant disaster film about a marriage flying apart at the seams. Characters are poorly developed, (if at all) and are thrown into one personal conflict after another, but rarely ever justifying or validating one conflict before beginning a new one. This leads to a surprising amount of unexplainable behavior by our starring characters, and after a while you simply must give up and try and make it through to the end, just to see where the chips are headed when the credits begin to roll. We barely make it there.

What starts off as being a smart and funny comedy quickly turns into a three-month crash-course timeline to the $5.50 bin at Wal-mart.
For me, the greatest tragedy of all is the complete non-use and misrepresentation of the city of Cleveland. Films like American Splendor and even Welcome to Collinwood used every ounce of eccentricity and eclectic energy that they could squeeze out of this patch-work city. To use Cleveland as a backdrop for a film means to have a certain understanding of its history, its architecture and its people. Oh misses all of this, choosing instead to create a fictional existence of homes, offices and water slides that ends up being terribly generic, non-specific and wholly incorrect. For better or worse, Cleveland has a very distinct identity about it, and treating it as a third-teir Chicago does nothing to promote a city that will only be shunned by the people who live there. Cleveland may not be the envy of the free world, but its people are proud, and fiercely protective of their home. So go away Hollywood, and don’t come back until you have someone who’s ready to show an accurate side of Cleveland.

The Grade: D

T.

Music Review: The Detroit Cobras: Mink Rat or Rabbit

Retro-rockers are an indulgent what-if of rock ‘n roll history.

We must ask ourselves the question: what if the Beatles had never been? How differently would the musical landscape of today be if it were not for the Beatles’ musical output from Revolver on?

Prior to the likes of the Beatles and Dylan, rock music had a straight forward, easy to digest formula based entirely on youthful exuberance and enjoyment of the music. Bill Haley & the Comets, the Ventures, Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis were all the superstars of their age for crafting simple, melodic rock ‘n roll songs that America’s youth devoured.

And then the sixties happened.

Tastes and attitudes change, and the innocent age of early rock ‘n roll had passed.

And yet today there are still those who make music as though 1964 had never happened.

One example: the Detroit Cobras – underground retro-rock outfit from, where else? Detroit – ask the same question I just posed to you. Who thinks dances like the twist and the mashed potato are done with?

The Cobras’ first studio album, Mink Rat or Rabbit is old news for the band, (they have currently released three full-length albums) and yet in many ways I think it their best work, because the intention of the styles remains unpolluted and unapologetic.

Songs like “Cha Cha Twist” are good enough to make you want to dance, while other songs like “Putty” recall an Animal-esque melodic styling. Underneath the blatant and bold-faced vocals of lead singer Rachel Nagy, the rest of the Cobras keep a tight ensemble, riffing through classic rock styles.
Their style is at moments early Rolling Stones, blending together traditional blues stylings with raucous hip-rattling attitude, but never apologetic for what it is not: cutting edge.

This is a brilliant collection of original tunes which only tell their age because of the level of distortion used on the guitars and bass.

A highly recommended disc:

The Grade: A

T.

P.S. Sorry about the cover image. I couldn't find an edited version.

Movie Review: Match Point
Starring: Johnathan Ryes Meyers, Emily Mortimer, Scarlett Johanssen, Brian Cox
Written and Directed by: Woody Allen

With deft direction, and a little bit of luck, this film charmingly grabs on doesn’t let up until the end.

This film exhibits such finesse in its direction that one would think that the youthful Mr. Allen has had experience in directing film in the past. Otherwise how could his work be so efficiently precise and effective?

We joke of course. Woody Allen’s contribution to cinema (particularly comedic) is legendary, and will long survive his own life.
Mr. Allen’s most famous films (Annie Hall, Don't Drink the Water, Bullets Over Broadway) are often cited as being amongst the funniest films ever made, so it was surprising and intriguing to see Allen turning his attention to what ultimately proves to be far more dramatic fare. All of the experience Woody Allen has garnered thus far is put to work in this Golden Globe nominated work, which must be added to the list of more impressive films of the last year. I came into this film determined not to like it, so the fact that it ultimately won me over speaks volumes to the artistic craft of the film.

The Premise: Everything we do requires a little bit of luck in order to succeed.
Could-be-pro-tennis player Chris (Rhyes Meyers) takes a job as a tennis instructor at an exclusive club in London where he meets upper-crust socialite Tom and his sister, Chloe whom he ultimately marries. Chris meets Tom's fiancé, Nola (Johannsen) who proves too much temptation for Chris, and they begin what ends up being a year-long affair, culminating in an illegitimate pregnancy, even though Chris has since married Chloe. From this point on, the movie really becomes engaging, and the end of the story is best not divulged at this point.

My first impressions of this movie were rather luke-warm. The film first appears to be a satirical look at the hobnobbing social class of England, where proper etiquette and formality is the most important order of affairs, even when circumstances become so ridiculous that the characters are forced to obscene actions behind closed doors.

Mr. Allen’s legendary status as a comic director/writer/actor leave me wondering at times how seriously I am to take certain circumstances in the film. At times the situations become so embroiled that you almost felt it necessary to laugh, otherwise you would be uncertain as to what the outcome could be. At times it was obvious that our reaction was meant to be hilarity; at others, it is entirely to the audience’s discretion.

The directing in this film is superb. For the first hour and a half of film, the plot, characters and story behave so predictably, that if it weren’t for Woody Allen’s deft touch of camera work, editing and the actor’s performance, I would have been prepared to write off this film with a dull thud after the first thirty minutes.
But somehow Allen keeps his camera unrelentingly close to the center of attention, never letting up on the tension or drama, so the audience never has the opportunity to grow bored with what is going on. A less experienced director would probably welcome the moments in the film to seek respite throughout the film, allowing the characters and the audience to relax a little bit, but Allen knows better, and pushes his vehicle to the limits of its capability. From frame one, this film builds to a crescendo that really doesn’t end until the credits roll.

One reason Allen is able to push the story as far as he does is because of Allen’s other great mastery: comedic timing.
No matter how tense the scenes may become, whenever Allen really needs it, he achieves the classic comedic timing needed to deliver the one-two punch line that relieves enough of our collective strain so that he can build it up again.
Whether he uses the device to deliver an actual comic punch line which we laugh at, or uses it to move quickly into the next beat of story telling, he does so with such liquid efficiency it makes you marvel.

The acting in this film is perhaps the weakest point of the film. Johnathan Rhyes Meyers who plays Chris Wilton is convincing enough, certainly chosen for this role because of his ability to seem convincingly unconvincing. For the entire film his character is telling one lie or another, so it was essential that we enjoy a performance that would allow the audience to ultimately see the conflicted nature of his character.
Far less convincing is the lovely Scarlett Johannsen playing the fledgling American actress, Nola. Nothing against Ms. Johannsen, but I have yet to truly be taken in by a performance. I believe she has the unnamed “X-factor” of appeal which will assure her a future career on the silver screen, but I can not separate this from the fact that I have always felt painfully aware of her self-awareness as an actress. I await the day when I see a Johanssen performance that really takes me away from her ordinary characteristics.

Because of the final third of this film, and the slick, seamless way in which the film is told, I have to give this movie a high rating.

The Grade: A

T.

A Quick Breakdown on the Movie Career of Arnold Schwarzenegger: what’s worth seeing, and what you should catch on late-night AMC.

Hercules in New York: Arnold’s first film after already achieving super-stardom in the world of professional bodybuilding. His Austrian accent so thick, in the original theatrical release, his lines were dubbed over by another actor, just so you could understand what he was saying. Later versions restored original indecipherable version, much to the delight of Arnold fanatics everywhere.
This film is so poor, it deserves recognition as being the only true cult-worthy film in Arnold’s arsenal. With later films, studios will recognize his true earning potential and increase production value so that his films actually look like a real movie, not something made in your neighbor’s basement.

Conan the Barbarian & the Destroyer: (1982 & 1984, respectively) Arnold’s first true breath-through performance. A role that was ideally and singularly crafted for the unbelievably sculpted physique of the Austrian Oak. Arnold’s first exposure to big budget work, plus the mythical setting helps to cover up Arnold’s still confused English, despite work with a dialect coach on set.

The Terminator: (1984)The first Arnold film that one really should see. Director James Cameron has a vision that extends beyond the persona of Schwarzenegger, and works to craft a sci-fi thriller that will truly stand the test of time, casting Arnold as the from-the-future cyborg assassin sent to kill Sarah Conner. In the first installment, Arnold acts as the bad guy, a noteworthy moment, since 1994’s sequel has a significant role reversal.

Commando: (1985) is Hollywood’s first blatant attempt to capitalize on Arnold’s obvious star power as the ultimate action hero, casting Arnold as the all-American war hero who goes out to kick butt in order to save his daughter from the clutches of the evil powers. This film would join Hercules in the cult-tastic category if it didn’t take itself so seriously. Born in the age of Rocky, Rambo and Street Fighter, Hollywood required its action heroes to be sweaty, muscular and the epitome of testosterone-pumping machismo. This film ends up looking goofy because of cheesy pyrotechnics and cheap stunts that do more to diminish the Arnold’s capabilities than to build them up.

Predator: (1987)is our first must-see. This film follows in the same vein of tradition as Commando, but where ___________’s Commando decided it was “mission accomplished” to have Arnold strutting around shirtless, Predator takes the antics to the next level, the same way director Cameron does with the Terminator films: he creates a legend surrounding the antagonist (Predator) which lives on to this day through the Predator film franchise. (The latest installment being Alien Vs. Predator.)
The dialogue in this film is ridiculous and ludacris as ever, but when the film really starts to revolve around the monster hunting his prey, Arnold shows himself to be capable of more as an actor than just flexing. He creates a real sense of tension and anticipation which carries the film all of the way until its final show-down between man and monster.

Total Recall: (1990) Is often times hailed as one of Arnold’s greatest action films. I disagree. Between a scantily clad Sharon Stone and Academy Award-winning effects, it left little time for a good movie to develop, even if it was about mutants trying to overthrow the evil human tyranny on the planet Mars. Again, real wide appeal to the subject matter. Worth seeing, but this still shows Ah-nold just before he hits his mainstream appeal.

Terminator 2: Judgment Day: (1991) Cameron’s second and most infamous chapter in the Terminator legacy, and Arnold’s greatest film success.
Here, the most important change we find in this film is Arnold now playing the good guy, sent back in time (again) to protect Sarah Conner instead of killing her. (You can imagine the poor girl’s confusion.) Full of state-of-the-art special effects which to this day are still stunning to see, this film has earned its place in the catalog of American cinema, not only as the signature role for Arnold Schwarzenegger, but also in the genre of action/science-fiction. This film ushers in the Era of Arnold, to be demonstrated by a slew of films rushed into production over the next decade.

Junior/Twins: (1988/1994) Begin to show us the other, family-friendly side of Arnold Schwarzenegger. I don’t know whose idea this was: Arnold’s or his agents, but these two films, pairing him with comic dissimilar Danny Devito begin Arnold’s string of family films which go on to include Kindergarten Cop, Red Heat and Jingle All the Way which are films that the entire family is encouraged to watch and enjoy. Most often these films center on the fish-out-of-water story, putting the large, muscular Austrian in the most uncomfortable, comical circumstance imaginable, and letting the rest of the movie make itself. (i.e.: a pregnant Arnold, (Junior) paternal twins Schwarzenegger and Devito (Twins) a hard-nosed cop forced to work with children (Kindergarten Cop) or the loving father, too devoted to his job who is forced to compete against Sinbad for an elusive Christmas present for his son (Jingle all the Way.)

True Lies: (1994)The age of high excess and big budget for Arnold’s film projects. Co-starring Jamie Lee Curtis, we see a confident and comfortable Arnold, now completely aware that he will never speak without his distinct accent, but also aware that it no longer matters. Arnold has staying power, and he rides high on a slew of successful films, and it is now the order of the day for each successive film to out do the last with larger stunts, more elaborate destruction and ever deeper pockets. Example: High-suspense Harrier jet sequence which features two different female characters clinging to the outside of the plane while Arnold blasts his way through skyscrapers to kill the bad guys. Good stuff.

Eraser: (1996)marks the beginning of the end for Arnold. His greatest achievements behind him, this is his last valid effort to reclaim his mantle as the legendary figure of action films. Co-starring Vanessa Williams, this plot become inversely less fantastic and therefore less believable, and would have to join the C-list of Arnold’s films, lodged somewhere on the shelf between Commando and True Lies.

Batman Forever: (1997)Arnold plays the comic villan Mr. Freeze in the last installment of the 1990’s chapters of the Batman films. By this time, the public’s attention span for Batman films has waned, and despite every attempt to woo in an audience with increasingly elaborate special effects (and a fresh-from-the-ER George Clooney as the slickest Bruce Wayne yet) the response to this film is luke warm, effectively ending the existence of Batman until 2005’s triumphant Batman Returns with a darker, more realistic interpretation.

End of Days (1999): is Arnold’s stab at the ever popular end-of-the-world apocalypcial horror show that has always brought in the audiences. Kudos for having Gabriel Byrne as thte devil incarnate, but somehow dropping Ah-nold into the middle of a vast religious conspiracy to prevent Satan from roaming the earth just seemed a little too ridiculous. Somehow.

The Sixth Day: (2000) is Arnold’s last decent action film. Set in the near-future, this movie deals with the soon-to-be headlines issue of cloning, pitting one Arnold Schwarzenegger against the other, therefore answering the ultimate question: what is strong enough to take down Arnold Schwarzenegger? Only another Arnold Schwarzenegger. I understand this isn’t a great film, but its one I always enjoy watching, partly because the spirit of the film isn’t too dark, but also because the filmmakers understood not to take themselves too seriously.

Collateral Damage: (2002)Arnold’s last free-for-all action flick before being elected to office as the governor of California. Production on this film had already wrapped by the time of September 11, 2001, and a great deal of debate began to occur, since the central theme of this movie was terrorists killing Arnold’s family, and then, of course, Arnold exacting his revenge.
The plot for this film is weak, and an obviously aging Arnold shows a quiet desperation to retain control of his title as “king of action.” Nearly thirty years since his silver screen premiere, not even the four-time Mr. Olympia is able to remain the king forever.

Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines: (2003) is meant to pick up another eight years or so after Terminator 2, no doubt hoping to capture much of the same energy and mystery surrounding Arnold’s Terminator and the entire storyline. The Terminator returns from the future once again to protect the young Joe Conner from assassination by the this-time female robotic counterpart. In the end, the world is plunged into nuclear war, and history will be played out in the same way that the first two films foresaw, yet the Terminator succeeds in his mission, ensuring that Conner survives the war to organize the human rebellion against the machines, just in time to send a robot back in time to protect his mother from being killed by a more youthful version of the Schwarzen-robot. Whew. Talk about writing yourself into a corner… An aging Schwarzenegger has heart surgery prior to filming, obviously making his training more difficult. Ah, the joys of aging.

Yes, I am aware that there are plenty of Arnold films that we have overlooked here, (such as Running Man or Last Action Hero, but this should hopefully cover his greatest and most memorable film roles, and hopefully go to show just a portion of the impact he has had on the late part of the twentieth century both as a film star, and as a popular icon to millions of people world-wide.

T.

T.

I think you have all been forced to endure my tirades about the latter installments of the Wachowski Brothers’ Matrix trilogy. The first film (released in 1998) revolutionized special effects the same way the original Star Wars films did in 1977. Their style and tricks imitated but never duplicated in ingenuity, the Wachowski brothers turned their creative eyes to completing the Matrix legacy; not only the story of Morpheus, Neo and Trinity, but also the mythology surrounding the computer-generated reality in which the film suggests we all live.

By now it is old news that the second two films (Reloaded and Revolutions) failed to impress the way the first did. And how could they? The story element that made the first film irresistible was old news, and it is an unrealistic expectation that two comic book geeks would be able to stun and surprise the world with yet another incredible story that blows our conceptions of reality.

So Reloaded and Revolutions pass into our distant memory, and yet there was one film project that was released during the height of the phenomenon, (namely: during the four-year anticipation between Matrix I and Reloaded) which explored another of the Wachowski Brothers’ loves: anime. This distinct Japanese animation style has developed a tremendous cult following in the United States during the last decade, so it makes perfect sense that a film project featuring some of the world’s most famous animators and directors would come to fruition.

The Animatrix is a full-length feature film made up of nine short films that delve deeper into the fictional world of the Matrix in a surprisingly meaningful and absorbing way.
Whether it be the beautifully conceived Final Flight of the Osiris, (the only non-traditional animation segment of the film) which features state-of-the-art CGI animation to recount the final voyage of the ship Osiris which is mentioned in passing during the Matrix films, or the Second Renaissance Part 1 & II which recount the “history” of the modern world, and fills in the holes for its audience as to how things became the way the are. At times touching, and others purely horrifying, the films have a much more genuine impact on the audience than the later Matrix films had.

Some are meant to be purely informational, providing us with pieces of the history of our civilization, thereby increasing our understanding of the plight of our heroes in Zion, while other segments show “normal” human beings encountering what amounts to programming errors, and our human instinct interpreting these things as “haunted houses” or UFOs…just the sort of thing that we all wonder about during our real lives the Animatrix offers as “proof” of an even greater vast conspiracy to enslave the human mind.

In many ways, the Animatrix takes the next step from the Matrix, giving us a more in-depth view of its universe, but where the later Matrix films trade human emotion for gymnastics, the Animatrix lingers to give us a true human perspective and experience within this computer-generated world, and so for many reasons, could be far more important to the Matrix universe than either Reloaded or Revolutions.
This film is well worth the time it takes

T.

Some Photos...


The Cleveland Orchestra on stage at the Blossom Music Center


Yay for figuring out the timer on my digital camera!




Bikes at the University of Wisconsin Madison


Sailing Club, UW Madison


Downtown Chicago from the Sears Tower

T.

I, TMS, do solemly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed overme, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.

Music Review: Deadboy & the Elephantmen – We Are Night Sky

Two-piece rock band crafts oddly addictive songs about…nothing.

I heard about this band while wandering through Fat Possum Record’s website. At the time, one of my favorite bands, the Black Keys, were signed to that label. Fat Possum splits its catalog between old-fashioned blues singers like Model-T Ford, and neo-punk rock acts like the Black Keys, the Heartless Bastards, and of course, Deadboy & the Elephantmen.

We Are Night Sky is DB&EM’s latest release. So far, their work is relatively unknown, so you won’t find reviews of their works published in any magazines. I found this CD used, surprisingly, and decided it was worth the time and money to explore a little bit further into Fat Possum’s universe.

I didn’t even know that DB&EM was yet another two-piece band before I bought this CD. It would seem that in the wake of the success of the White Stripes, all two-piece acts are enjoying a little sunlight and record deals. How good their music is, however, is another matter. In the case of DB&EM, Dax and Tessie strke out to truly create a new and unique sonic language for themselves.

All of the songs on this album were written by Dax Riggs and Tessie Brunet, ( vocals & guitars and drums, respectively.) and if listened to enough, they begin to show a certain affinity for certain ideas.
One of which is a bizarre poly-tonal approach to ornamentation. If the chord struck by the guitar is major, Dax has no problem singing a minor third against the major, creating an uncomfortable dissonance that is usually only resolved by yet another clashing use of chords.
Also, the songwriting always enjoys the tonic chord as an anchor. When the song arrives at a downbeat, the chord is clear and uncomplicated, but at any half-cadence, this is where the vocals or solo guitar will sneak in with a grinding dissonance which the ear cannot help but listen to.

The songs on this album are almost equally balanced between a harder-edged fuzzed-out guitar song and melancholic acoustic number, each taking their turn at expressing indecipherable lyrics over churning instrumentals. And yet, I could not bring myself to turn this CD off. I must have listened through this entire album five or six times, and it was easy to really get lost in the tunes.

The Grade: B-

T.

Movie Review: The Devil Wears Prada
Starring: Anne Hathaway, Merryl Streep
Directed by: David Frankel

Based off of the popular novel by Lauren Weisberger, this film had high expectations early in the season, especially since it hinted that the summer of 2006 was moving away from the studio’s usual strategy of blockbuster filmmaking and towards smaller, more independent fare that would hopefully keep the audiences coming in, even if Superman and Pirates of the Caribbean sank at the box office.
Plus, the Streep trophy always guarantees a certain amount of attention. Even if she is cast in a role which invariably ends up in the shadow of Hathaway’s character.

The Premise: Andrea, (Hathaway) has just received her undergraduate degree in journalism and moves to the Big Apple to pursue her dream, and as on-the-way job, lands a position as receptionist for Miranda, (Streep) Editor-in-chief of Runway magazine, one of the world’s preeminent fashion magazines. Andrea has no idea what world she has stepped into, and the movie follows her journey through realization, acceptance, and then eventual self-discovery that leads her down the right path.

The end.

So, having read that, you really don’t need to go see this movie now.

Sadly, this film plays out in such a formulaic, predictable manner, its really saddening. For a film that really did appear to be something deeper, this film ends up having no more breadth than Hathaway’s earlier films such as Ella Enchanted. The movie can only hope that its audience will be captivated enough by watching the dazzling world of haut couture whirl before them that they won’t think about anything else.

Sorry dear, I don’t even know how to spell Yves St. Laurent.

(Oh, I guess I do.)

De La Renta.

Hmmm…never mind.

This story has been told so many times before, I would never have thought that such a rudimentary re-telling of it would be done. The plot devices are predictable and cliché, and sadly the acting does little to deliver us from our misery.

Meryl Streep is, of course, great at what she does, playing the cold, distant and demanding Miranda (the Devil aforementioned.) Her role is minimal, certainly one of the smarter choices she certainly made with this film, making her character more elusive and curious than the others, which is a testament to her skill.

Anne Hathaway took a few years off from filmmaking after her earlier successes with the Disney empire to go to school and “grow up” a bit. A wise decision, but I think Ms. Hathaway still has some growing to do before she should attempt a role next to someone like Meryl Streep. Many of her mannerisms throughout the movie became overused and annoying, as though she was expecting her quirky smile and innocent charm would win us over. She showed no real depth of understanding for her role, which I can only mention because of her vicinity to Streep. Without her there, Hathaway’s performance would have to be evaluated differently, and of course, the entire tone of the movie would change as well.

If high fashion is something you enjoy, pay attention to, etc. then this is a fun film. One of the more fun clichés of the film is when Andrea gets set loose in the closet/warehouse to select a new wardrobe for work. What girl wouldn’t want the opportunity to wear thousands of dollars worth of clothing and accessories every day? I can see the candy-store appeal of that. But from an artistic standpoint, this film is boring and played-out. The only smart thing that director David Frankel does is to not needlessly run long, as so many filmmakers are doing these days. For light, enjoyable fare, let us leave the film while we were still enjoying it.

The Distressed Leather Handbag With Matching Belt and Shoes Grade: C-

T.

Movie Review: Hostel
Starring: Jay Hernandez, Derek Richardson
Directed by: Eli Roth

Quentin Tarantino lent his notoriety to this film project early on, so that, in the end, this film was “presented by” Mr. Tarantino. Needless to say, the director of such modern classics such as Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill vols. 1 & 2 ended up lending huge amounts of credit to this film, which would have otherwise been largely overlooked.
Tarantino regarded this as the scariest movie of the last decade, and considering the volume of work that has been added to the genre of horror in the past few years, you have to at least award high marks for effort.

Eli Roth, director of 2002’s cult classic Cabin Fever, returns to his stomping grounds for another go around of visceral gore.
Reports of this film were as contrasting as possible, with audiences either loving the film, or absolutely hating it. But the one thing everyone agreed on: this film probed such deep depths of depravity previously unthought of by the human mind. Well goodness, that almost sounds good enough to eat, doesn’t it?

I would normally never have seen this movie. I’m just not one much for blood and gore, let alone horror films (although well-handled films can become film classics. Example: Silence of the Lambs; modern day example: Saw,) but my dear friend Lala has a real love for horror films, and her anticipation over seeing this film was high, so I decided to indulge her.

The Premise: Young, loud-mouthed American college students backpack their way across Europe, and head to a tiny Slovakian village in search of untapped female resources, only to find themselves one-by-one being snatched away in the night to face a gruesome death. We all have the pleasure of watching. Or covering your eyes, if you prefer.

This film is so unashamedly pointed towards the very youngest demographic allowed, (the 18-year old high schooler and any 14-year olds who manage to sneak in.) The language is so ridiculously foul, the behavior of the supposed college students is so disgusting that it fulfills every young teenager’s fantasies about what it must be like to be in college. Aside from the ridiculous behavior of our hapless Americans, there is enough gratuitous nudity during the first half of the film whose sole purpose in the film is to draw in the hormone-driven male audience.

The further we get into this film, the more Lala and I realize that this film has less and less appearances of being a horror film, and would seem to qualify more and more for the status of a cult film.

The acting is so poor, the dialogue scenes, (when the film is forced to endure through one) is so canned and predictable that it would seem less likely that the script had been written, but rather borrowed from a second-rate soft-core adult filim.
But we all know that is why we’re watching the movie.

We came for the gore. We came for the guts! The glory?

As it turns out, we get a few moments of truly effective gore, (achilles-slicing, anyone?) but otherwise the film’s scenes of “horror” are full of blood-filled rubber dolls being punctured with any number of pointy objects including (but not limited to) scissors, garden trowel and a power drill. (My personal favorite.)

This film rather quickly becomes so ridiculous that we learn to dismiss the notion of implausibility. The only mental exercise I enjoyed during this film was trying to sort out the one plot element that proved interesting and actually helped boost the quality of the film.

One of the disappointing technical features of this film was the cinematography. In horror/suspense/thriller films over the past ten years, the art of cinematography has been elevated to the level of screenwriting. Combined with good editing, the style in which a film is shot will do a great deal of the filmmakers’ work for them, putting the audience on edge, relaxing us, terrifying us, etc. all with use of color scheme, exposure, camera angles, etc. Hostel disappoints in this department because the entire film is shot in what appears to be basic film stock. Steadicam or dolly cams are used, giving a very stable, steady sense to the camera movement, and colors are very near to true-to-life. In a word: the camera work is boring, and it does nothing to make its audience feel nervous at all about what is happening. Only in the dungeon sequences do we see any sort of interesting lighting effects happening, but by now, the work is merely copying an earlier film.

This film will not go down on any list of great horror films. At least it’d better not.
Expect this to show during Halloween season on AMC’s Creature Feature or some other horror marathon. It will surely develop a cult following, and in that arena, it deserves attention, but the praises lauded to this movie by critics I find completely unwarranted and ridiculous since I laughed more than I screamed during this movie.

The Grade: D (Camp-factor keeps Hostel from falling through the floor.)

Movie Review: Matchstick Men
Starring: Nicholas Cage, Sam Rockwell and Alison Lohman
Directed by: Ridley Scott

This is another film that has already left the “new arrivals” section at Blockbuster. It had its theatrical release way back in 2003, and really only caught my eye because of the director, Ridley Scott.
Scott is far more famous for other additions to American film- Gladiator and Black Hawk Down- which have cemented a sure place for Scott in the annals of cinematic history.

Considering this, Matchstick Men becomes a real departure from Scott’s oeuvre, trading in his action/drama specs for a stab at the sleek sleight-of-hand thriller.
Just like David O. Russel’s I Heart Huckabees, Scott must work from a disadvantage, since this style of film has seen a revival in recent years, and audiences are quick to spot uncomfortable, awkward work.

I am pleased to report, however, that Scott does a great job at adapting his sensitivities to the project at hand, implementing the key ingredient of misdirection masterfully. This film plays the smooth criminal thriller well, except for a few key differences, which serve to push this movie beyond just a good-looking thief film. The end result is a film which almost has a dual identity: a slick robbery flick, and a psychological comedy.

The Premise: Roy (Cage) and Fred (Rockwell) are con artists working in LA, duping innumerable hapless senior citizens out of small-time money, always on the lookout for that bigger score. Roy suffers from any number of neuroses, the most important being his obsessive-compulsive behavior. Self-medicated and lonely, Roy seeks the help of a psychiatrist when his pills run out. Because of these sessions Roy learns that he has a 14-year old daughter, (Lohman) who enters into his life because of a few phone calls. She is accidentally brought in on a con, where Roy discovers her natural affinity for the work. She is brought in on future cons, much to the chagrin of Fred, who is mistrustful, since either he or Roy know literally nothing about her.

The rest of the plot becomes key to a surprise ending that would be shameful to disclose to you who have not seen it. Suffice to say, if you are really alert, you might figure out where you are heading, but for myself, who tends to live a little more “in the moment” when it comes to movies, I was caught off guard, and thus the ruse was a success.

Nicholas Cage’s performance in this film is the first thing I must mention. This may go down as the finest performance I’ve seen Cage give. With the exception perhaps of his dual roles in Adaptation, Matchstick takes Cage further away from the cliché attributes which have plagued him from his earliest days. Audiences either love or hate Cage. It is hard to feel neutral about him because his personality is so unique. In this film, however, I felt Cage explored deeper into a character than I’ve seen from him in a long time.
His portrayal of the obsessive-compulsions that Roy suffers from are not glib or thrown away. In fact, they tread this fine line between humorous and morose, leaving us not quite certain if we should laugh or feel sorry for Roy.
One of Cage’s common detractions is his vocal intonation. He speaks very much in the back of his throat, letting his nose buzz on many words. This is different than any other actor I know of, but it certainly does get old after a while if an actor never moves beyond it. In Adaptation, and now again in Matchstick, Cage adopts a variation of English that takes him away from his common ground.

Ridley Scott’s direction in this film is superb, as I knew it would be. The ability to adapt from one vastly style of film to another is something often times botched by other directors when they move from one genre of film to another. Scott seemed to be well-aware of these challenges, and even managed to stamp his own calling card onto the celluloid.

The one thing that really jumped out at me was the pace of this film. I wasn’t sure what to think at first, because within the first ten minutes we had seen more of Roy’s life than most filmmakers will show in half an hour. Scotts’ cuts are fast and furious, leaving only the most essential of actions left in a shot so that he doesn’t leave us behind. At first I thought this was just the set-up, and the pace would slow once we got to the real part of the story, but the quick camera shots continue at a rapid pace all of the way until the end of the movie. The further we got into the film, however, I realized this was Scott’s way of letting us in on Roy’s world. The sped-up film, over-exposure of certain shots and the quick takes create a surreal sense of events and time, allowing us to see a little bit of the existence that Roy is dealing with. The editing of this work was superb.

Alison Lohman, who plays Angela, Roy’s daughter, is really the weak link in an otherwise exemplary cast. I don’t know if her training or experience, but she really came off to me as practically an amateur, delivering lines the way a first-timer might lean towards a microphone, just to make sure audio picks it all up. I was far less impressed with her performance, but am encouraged that I have not seen her in any other films since 2003.

Over all, I thoroughly enjoyed this movie. I was expecting a tasty con man film, and got much more. The only thing that acts as a detriment to the pace and excitement of this movie is the duality of the film itself. It is both a film about these men’s work, and yet also about Roy’s mind, and all of the turmoil he is put through during this film. Because of this, the pace of the storyline sometimes lagged a little bit too much to keep the audience really into the movie.

The Grade: B+

T.

Movie Review: I Heart Huckabees
Starring: Jude Law, Jason Schwartzman, Lily Tomlin, Dustin Hoffman, Mark Wahlberg, Naomi Watts, Isabella Hubbert
Directed by: David O. Russell

Hailed as the “best existential comedy in years,” one quickly realizes that they key qualifier in that sentence might very well mean the “only existential comedy in years.”

If that’s the case, then we really haven’t been missing a whole lot.

David O. Russell, director of one of my favorite movies Three Kings, (which introduced me to the work of actor/director Spike Jonze) takes a real departure from his cinematic vein with this movie. The teasers for this film portray the spirit accurately; i.e., a zany, off-the-wall cerebral comedy that ends up being pretty much about nothing.
This style of comedic film isn’t really anything new, having been pioneered in the last decade by the likes of Spike Jonze (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation) and Wes Anderson (Rushmore, the Royal Tenenbaums, the Life Aquatic.) This being said, this seemed like a movie that would be right up my alley.

The two most important things a film like this requires for success is 1) a director that understands and shares the correct vision for the film, and 2) a script that is solid enough to pull it off. (See Charlie Kaufman’s work as textbook example as a stand-alone mind-screwing.)
This film, sadly, seems to struggle with both.

The Premise: Alfred (Schwartzman) hires two “everything-is-connected” existential detectives (Hoffman and Tomlin) to investigate a series of coincidental run-ins he’s had. Along the way, his nemesis Brad (Law) engages the detectives’ services as well, as well as gains the friendship of a burnt-out fireman (Wahlberg) struggling with the point of the universe.
Just like any business, however, any service is bound to have competitors, and the detectives work to prevent their clients from joining the teachings of rival “the-universe-is-pointless” existentialist Caterine Vauban (Hubbert.) At the end of the day, the fireman finds love again, Alfred sets fire to Brad’s jet skis, and Brad has an emotional breakdown.

Not bad for an hour and forty minutes.

Where the film goes wrong: About ten minutes into it.

On a philosophical and psychological level, this movie is very shallow. I am no scholar on Kafka, Nihilism or even Plato for that matter, but it didn’t take long to realize when this movie stepped out of the stream of intelligent reason and into an oozing puddle of chatter.
Whenever the correct characters were in the same room together and an important plot device was about to be revealed, soon enough the double-talk would make a not-so-surprise visit in a thinly veiled attempt to distract you from the truth that they really had no idea what they were talking about.
Which is fine, by the way! I don’t really care if they made actual sense or not of the plot. It wouldn’t have to be necessary. But the writer chooses to make the existential and transcendental philosophy core to the struggles characters face, thereby dooming the movie to a creamed-corn level of nutritional story-telling.

The great relief and truth that is found during the course of the films’ discourse, however, is that even those who believe in everything (and nothing) must eventually concede that there are ultimately only two truths: truth and deception. And for this movie, that’s quite an admission.
The more soul-searching characters question everything known about human existence from the first minute of film, invariably deciding, (at one point of the film or another) that everyone must be right. (Our favorite topic of conversation: the blurring of right vs. wrong.) However, even this film cannot escape the inevitability of that position. Eventually you will find that one thing that you cannot accept.
In this instance, it occurs in a scene when Alfred is using the meditation technique from one existentialist in the presence of the competing one. She screams at him “those are lies! You are lying to yourself!”
We were way beyond waist-deep in bull by this point, but it was the kernel of truth in the entire movie that essentially destroys their entire philosophy: the admission of truth and deception.

The other great concern with this film was with the director, David O. Russell. As I mentioned earlier, this style of subtle psycho-comic drama isn’t new. Wes Anderson has become a master at coaxing beautiful and tragic performances from his actors (his work with Bill Murray I believe led to Murray’s work on Coppola’s Lost in Translation which garnered Murray an Oscar nomination.) Spike Jonze’s work with Charlie Kaufman’s scripts has been remarkable because of the subtle way he is able to capture the tiniest of details essential to the story without making it obvious. Either of these directors I believe would have had a better feel for the direction this film needed to take. Indeed, in many sequences, it seemed as though Russell was trying to pirate some of their techniques, which only made the film seem even more like a rip-off from a more entertaining, capable moviemaker. (The casting of Schwartzman in the lead role was curious, since he appeared as the lead character in Anderson’s Rushmore.)

I plan on watching I Heart Huckabees again, because there was enough stuff happening in this film that I feel I might have missed a good deal on the first viewing. I don’t believe my opinion of the film will change greatly, so I write this review now, while the film is still fresh in my mind.

The Graaaade: C for less-than-heartwarming tale that ended up confusing the heck out of me.

I know I’ve been handing out a lot of “C’s” recently. Everything’s just been only so-so recently. I hope to encounter warmer waters soon. (Not meant to be a Pirates pun...we'll talk about that in a little while.)

T.

Movie Review: Con Air
Starring: Nicholas Cage, Steve Buscemi, John Malkovich, Vin Rhames, John Cusack & Dave Chapelle
Directed by: Simon West
Produced by: Jerry Bruckheimer

This film is also not new. Its original theatrical release was nearly ten years ago (1997.) I write this column not as a review of the film but rather as a retrospective of an era of filmmaking that featured such dramatic and elaborate action sequences that it left no room for believable storyline or dialogue. Yet these films will have their own special place in movie history, so devoted they are to the opera of destruction that it is impossible to ignore or forget them.

This whole idea most certainly started with the birth of the 1980’s action film, headlined by such superstars as Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone. As time progressed, the public appetite for testosterone-drenched cinema showed no sign of ending. The age gives birth to other action heroes such as Jean-Claude van Damme as well as Wesley Snipes and Bruce Willis, each movie studio and production company clambering for their piece of the pie.

The film Con Air represents the peak of excess and glory of this film genre. Soon there after the genre endured life-altering changes from which it never recovered, and action films took on a very different appearance, combining far more realistic circumstances, darker colors, themes and even believable, realistic storylines.

Con Air is a worthy case study for many reasons. Jerry Bruckheimer, more recently responsible for such spectacle-adventure films such as Pirates of the Caribbean, has always had a calling card of destruction and spectacle. With Con Air, the spectacle has never been more visceral, the destruction never more gratuitous, and possibly never more fun.

The Premise: Nicholas Cage plays a convict on the day of his parole, sent home aboard a flight full of hard-core criminals to his family. A mid-air jailbreak ensues, and it is up to our hero to play the devils advocate until the right moment when he can save the day and make it home to his family.

The film begins with such a rapid set-up, that if you aren’t paying attention for the first ten minutes, you’ll be wondering how all of these people got airborne. The whole point of the opening of the film, of course, is to simply get the characters into the midst of the fray so we can watch the insanity begin.

Once airborne, Cage is in his finest mode, spouting deadpan machismo-laden mono-syllabic lines faster than thought humanly possible.

Other characters, such as John Malkovich and Steve Buscemi are allowed to play with their psychotic finest, using all of the disturbing traits of their acting as a springboard to unleash the most frightening assortment of super freaks that moviemakers can imagine. Buscemi plays a Hannibal Lecter-like character who is transported in full protective gear, while Malkovich plays the violent mastermind, who soon is in command of the aircraft.

One fantastic scene to the next follows, pushing us further and further away from the realm of believability, and more and more into the world of explosions, mayhem and expensive pyrotechnics. The bar is pushed so far that the work on this film was even nominated for an Academy Award for sound editing.

This film is fun to watch, but even while its happening I feel guilty, knowing the writing, the acting and the directing is all so blatantly directed at my basest instincts and impulses. It will never be regarded as a great film, but in the world of the super-action film, Con Air must stand next to the best for its sheer ferocity and extravagance, a self-indulgent monument an era of American film that will likely not be repeated any time soon.

The By-The-Way Grade for Con Air: C

T.

Movie Review: The Whole Ten Yards
Starring: Bruce Willis, Matthew Perry, Kevin Pollack, Natasha Henstridge and Amanda Peet
Directed by: Howard Deutch

This is an older movie, but one which I just saw in its entirety. Not only is this movie out on video, but its already seen its network television premiere. I’m behind the pace on this one.

This film is the sequel to 2002’s (more appropriately named) The Whole Nine Yards, where Willis plays mobster hitman Jimmy “the Tulip” Tudeski, who moves to Montreal to start his new life. He moves into a house next to dentist Oz (Perry) and the adventures begin as the Chicago mob learns of Jimmy’s new home, and enlists’ Oz’s help to try and eliminate Jimmy.

In the second film, we pick up right where the first left off. Both of our in-love couples are enjoying a comfortable (if not slightly paranoid) existence, always mindful of being tracked down by the remaining members of the Mob that survived the first film.
Promotions for Ten Yards showed Willis running around in an apron, wearing a housecoat and vacuuming. Its true, he does do this an awful lot during the first part of the film, but we certainly get lots of the cold-hearted killer behavior from the Tulip later on in the film.

Kevin Pollack returns as the father of the character of the film he played in the Whole Nine Yards. Good makeup creates a truly hilarious character, combined with Pollack’s great conception of the Hungarian mobster, complete with a barrage of mis-pronounced vowels.

The great downfall of this film is that the plot is secondary to the jokes which happen between its characters. The fun thing about this is that in this second film, these actors have perfected their relationships with each other (particularly Perry and Willis) and the one-liners are able to fly like crazy.
Being a bit of a fan for the first film, it is fun being able to watch these actors play with each other. You can tell it was a lot of fun for them to work together.
Sadly, they end up sacrificing cohesion and plausibility in the meanwhile.

What we end up with is a playful romp through the comical world of contract killers that is all candy but no meat. I suppose some wouldn’t care if the content of the film ends up being rather fluffy, but my mind is one that always hopes that despite any number of jokes (no matter how funny) that there will be a real story underneath it all.

This movie seems to just enjoy what it is: a dessert-styled film designed to let everyone enjoy the work of these actors without giving us any fussy plot to have to think about.

If I had paid for a ticket in the theater to see this movie, I would have to give it a bad grade, but since I watched this in the comfort of my own home and without cost to myself, the grade jumps up a little bit…

The Kill-Em-Dead-In-Their-Tracks Grade: C+