Filed under: Film | Tags: darren aronofsky, gritty, mickey rourke, the wrestler
The Wrestler. A powerful, gritty film full of truth about the human condition. You can see how a slick but empty film like Slumdog Millionaire would trump a film like this in this grand ol’ America. We like our dreams glossy, our bodies pumped, and our mortgages subprime. But we’re going to pay for it much like Randy the Ram has to pay for it. The best we can hope for is to go out in a blaze of glory. This is a movie of consequence, about consequence. It has an astute eye for detail that brings you up close and personal with the characters. If the film is built out of archetypes and motifs that are tired and cliched (the down and out sports hero, the hooker with the heart of gold), it doesn’t matter. The art is in the execution, and Aronofsky (Pi, Requiem for a Dream) is one of the genius directors of our generation. And yes, Mickey Rourke is every bit as good as they say.
Max Headroom is a precursor of the vlog – quirky, opinionated, schizophrenic, disembodied.
I think Ze Frank’s body of work, for example, bears signs of the Max Headroom influence. (Side note: I really wanted to embed this video rather than link it, but the bastard just wouldn’t embed.)
Guilty pleasure confessional time. A bit of an ironic counterpoint to my previous post on the human race being “entertained to extinction”. Although I am very clearly not in the target demographic of Dan Deacon (see above picture for evidence), I find his hyperactive brand of sugary synth pop electro both addictive and mesmerizing. Yes, it is unabashed empty party music for degenerate teenage post-hipsters. But it’s got a compelling voice and energy, which is more than I can say for most of the post-everything watered down sounds of today posing as music. Here’s a guy just going for it, full on, all the way. The way they used to. Look at his live show footage. He’s a Jesus Christ Superstar. Messianic.
I came across this fantastic short essay by an evolutionary psychologist named Geoffrey Miller that summed up something that’s been on my mind (and probably the minds of many) for years. His (vaguely tongue-in-cheek) thesis is that maybe the reason that we have not yet been contacted by alien life is that they, like us, began to direct their technological resources toward entertainment instead of exploration. Rather than using technology for overtly self-destructive purposes via machines of war, he posits a more subliminal, sinister fate of our alien kin:
Basically, I think the aliens don’t blow themselves up; they just get addicted to computer games. They forget to send radio signals or colonize space because they’re too busy with runaway consumerism and virtual-reality narcissism. They don’t need Sentinels to enslave them in a Matrix; they do it to themselves, just as we are doing today.
Miller’s essay reminds me of how Pixar’s 3D imaging technology was originally marketed to government agencies and the medical industry. In the end they accidentally discovered that the real arena of profitability was in animated movies. When I look at the phenomenal amounts of creativity and money going into entertainment, I sometimes can’t help wondering what those resources could accomplish if they were directed at something more mundane, like solving world hunger.
Gladwell has spawned a new genre of book: Blink, the power of reading without thinking. Books in this genre are a lot like browsing the internet. You are able to consume them rapidly with minimal effort, and they provide you enough just enough superficial fact and opinion to allow you to leave you with the feeling that you’ve learned something substantial. They also arm you with buzzwords of the zeitgeist to sprinkle into your language so that you and your colleagues can share profound analytical insights such as whether company x is truly an “outlier” or not.
Hmm, I think I’m coming off a bit harsh in that first paragraph. I actually admire Gladwell’s engaging writing style and knack for pattern recognition, i.e. the ability to derive big ideas from the flimflam of contemporary life. And he’s provocative: yeah, maybe I should pay more attention to my gut and at the same time be aware of my built-in prejudices. And there’s all those little nuggets of smaller ideas, such as the notion that being courteous and friendly to colleagues and clients may actually be more important than doing a good job (what I got out of his anecdote about people being far less likely to bring a malpractice suit against doctors who were nice to them).
My new toy: the Weber One Touch. A masterpiece of design. An icon. The VW Beetle of grills. I couldn’t be happier. Sure, I’d rather be driving the Ferrari of grills. But I don’t have the deck, or the budget. My dad’s been using the same One Touch for about 25 years. It’s a thing of beauty.
So I now own a surfboard, a grill and have a Hawaiian drivers license in my pocket. I think my application for Hawaii citizenship can go through now.
Milk. Should’ve been titled “Milquetoast”. Sean Penn gives a nuanced, immersive, ballsy performance. But then again, when does he not? Even so, the script and direction made it pretty hard to care about or feel anything one way or another about this Harvey Milk, let alone anyone else in the film. These are supposed to be 70s queers we’re talking about here. Maybe our society just can’t do “flamboyant” anymore – maybe it’s not politically correct to portray gays as queenish. Narrative follows the standard biopic formula note for note. It’s like watching a checklist of events. Dan White, as portrayed adequately by the talented Josh Brolin, is a vague figure with various stated motives, but I thought Brolin looked a little uncertain of where to take his character. This is criminal – if you read about Dan White, you realize his character is as abundant with potential as Milk – but both just come off as subdued, dull and flat. If you like movies that give you pause for thought about your plans for tomorrow, this one’s for you.
On August 28 Taiyo reached the big oh-five. We celebrated with a big old beach barbecue at Kaimana. Unfortunately between grill and lifeguard duty, I was unable to get behind the camera. I really need to work on my multi-tasking. Can I use my maleness as an excuse?
On a side note, we had an illustrative confrontation prior to the party. Mizuho had heard from her friends that it would be better to obtain a permit for our party from the Public Parks Authority. We did, and made the (apparently false) assumption that this then entitled us to “land rights”. When we presented our permit to a gentleman who had set up in the area we were hoping to use, he looked at us like we were batshit insane and claimed to have never heard of anybody getting a permit for holding an event, folded his arms, and refused to budge, having staked out his ground hours earlier. When we mentioned our story to people at the party, many were able to relate similar experiences. Another culture lesson learned!
Children of Men: a pretty righteous sci-fi action thriller that succeeds on many levels. The fundamental concept behind the movie – the destructive nature of organizations and individuals willing to sacrifice others to achieve their own ends, even as they claim to champion basic human causes -
is vividly articulated, but never with an overly heavy hand. The idea of personal sanctuary in a dehumanizing landscape (best evoked by Jasper’s hideout) is also expressed in ways touching and intimate. Pacing: masterful. Choreography of some of the most brutal and shocking scenes: tremendous. One decanter of wine plus this movie equals an evening well-spent.
After getting double-teamed by the unholy alliance of my son’s birthday party and a work flareup, I’ve been negligent in keeping up with my already laid-back blogging schedule. The result is a backlog of topics, not to mention juicy, share-worthy links.
Here are five recent objets of note that I’ve stumbled upon in my adventures in the interwebs:
Having been thinking about information design (also known by the sexier term, “data visualization”), so I really appreciated this exhibit by a Minneapolis artist.
Well articulated essay on the symbiotic relationship between design, science and science fiction.
Was shocked to come across these nostalgia clips of the original odd couple: Jay and Dave!
We are all aware of the gamesmanship that goes on behind the scenes in the halls of Washington. Clearly, there was more to the Joe Wilson outburst than meets the eye. Well-informed Buzzfeed readers offer their insider takes on the now infamous interruption of Obama’s health care speech. (Totally sophomoric, but I couldn’t resist.)
Finally, on a more serious health care tack: this must-read article from the September Atlantic.
