Hillbilly Horror: Hitting Too Close to Home?

There are all sorts of divisions within the horror community. Well, not divisions so much as sub-sects within the same basic genre. There's the supernatural movies which consist of the haunted house genre or there's the slasher with all of its sexual mores. Still, there are some genres that deserve credit for being more topical and influential than most casual movie viewers give them credit.

One of the clearest examples is the nuclear mutation sub-genre. This type of movie has certainly died out over the years as we make way for the virus mutation genre, playing off American fears of bio-chemical warfare, of course. Still, the nuclear genre gave birth to all sorts of creature features in the 50s and 60s. Stories about giant man-eating mutating ants like Them! terrified audiences because for all their education on the subject, especially compared to what is known now, it was a surprisingly realistic fear.

But the nuclear genre soon tired of oversized animals attacking small-town citizens, which gave birth to Attack of the 50 Foot Woman and other movies like this. Sure, Attack of the 50 Foot Woman is a poorly disguised attack on feminism, but it also perpetuated the fear of nuclear politics. Eventually movies like that led to more graphic portrayals of violence and terror on the homefront, such as Wes Craven's The Hills Have Eyes. As movies got increasingly violent and aggressive, the rules started to change with the times. We were no longer afraid of what nuclear power could do, we became afraid of our own potential for destruction and mayhem.

Thus, what is frequently called hillbilly horror was born. Now this genre itself was loaded with subtle attacks on Americana. As always, the goal of the horror movie continued to be to address the topical fears of everyday Americans. One of the earliest examples of these movies, The Last House on the Left which is, inherently a class struggle in horror form, was largely based on the terror of the Vietnam War. Everyday Americans were going out and committing acts of savagery that would later show up on TVs in living rooms across the nation. It was horrifying to think what everyday Americans were capable of doing in the face of wartime, specifically in a war that many felt we had no business fighting.

However, the attack against Republicans and the involvement in the Vietnam War was only the beginning of hillbilly horror. It continued to involve over the years, with different causes for the deformations and acts of cruelty. Unlike real life, the disfiguration of the characters, which allowed the audience to identify him/her as evil, do not occur in real life. One such explanation was inbreeding. This was a more metaphorical approach to American values that seemed to insist upon themselves. Of course, more American values beget more American values in the same way that inbreeding simply causes further destruction to one's self. More than anything else, it's an attack on party politics which was long overdue by this time.

Hillbilly horror movies still exist today, although with little purpose. The cutting edge of the hidden meaning has dulled over time as America has become increasingly disenchanted with its own way of life. Furthermore, there are few American horror filmmakers that are courageous enough to tackle these issues or even new material at all, leaving hillbilly horror to be immortalized as one of the last great political stances within the horror genre.

A Writer's Plea for Reading

They say a woman's job is never done. There's the whole inherent sexism of our society, followed by marriage (or spinsterhood, I'm not one too judge) and then usually children (or many many cats if the spinsterhood thing is still an option) and then watching the kids grow up and run off. It's a valid sentiment. Sure, it sounds a little condescending, but you get the gist.

What do they say about writers? Well, nothing really... the age of print is dying so we don't get much credit here or there. Still, look how many movies people are watching. Of the three new releases coming out tomorrow, Charlie St. Cloud is based on a book and Dinner for Schmucks, which is based on The Diner Game is based on a play. The third? Well, Cats and Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore doesn't look like it was based on anything but the inane ramblings of a three year old hopped up on cough syrup locked up in the same kennel as their dog, so I'm not sure if we'll even count that one.

My point, after all that rambling, is that writers are too frequently discounted. The life of a writer isn't easy and it's damn near impossible to survive. I mean, forget the lousy pay and the plethora of rejection, let's look at some of our best writers, shall we?

Ernest Hemingway? Killed himself and an alcoholic. Edgar Allan Poe? Drunkard, gambler, and still no one really knows how he died, although theories range from rabies (seriously?) to liver failure. Jack Keruouac? Inspired the beat movement and died penniless from alcoholism. Catch my drift?

Now I'm not saying that all of us writers are alcoholics and gamblers. I'm just saying that the writer's lifestyle allows for plenty of stressors, but not much relief. I mean, sure there are those bestseller authors, but eventually it becomes more about the movie than the craving to put pen to paper. Writers who are so firmly committed to their craft (and mind you, I'm not claiming to be one of them) frequently suffer for it.

Now I'm not saying this because it's National Library Month or anything. Do we even have one of those? Anyways, I'm just saying this because writing day in and day out can be tiring. I love what I do otherwise I wouldn't do it, but it's pretty much a constant blow to the ego. You do it because you have to get it out of you, but there's also this desire to be read, to be affirmed by the faceless, nameless readers of the internet. God knows I won't get that validation any time soon, but hell, do it for yourself. Look around (and I'm not just saying my blog, it could be anyone's) and who knows, you might find something worth reading.

Real World Solutions for Childhood Problems

Today is the day and age of growing up way too fast. I don't know when it happened or how to fix it, but that's where we are these days. Kids are starting to become sexually active at a younger age. Hell, I even saw an 8 year old with an iPhone at the bus stop with her babysitter the other day. If we're being perfectly honest, I was more upset that an 8 year old can afford nicer things than I can, but that's irrelevant!

As children grow up too fast, the issue at hand is that childhood problems don't go away. For instance, you think you because your kid has got a Coach purse she (or God bless the little fella, he) isn't gonna have problems at school? That just makes her/him an easier target if you ask me. But then again, none of you did ask me. Well, not directly, but I guess by reading my blog you sorta are asking for my advice... That's kinda flattering... You'd actually be surprised by how few people ask for my advice. Why? I don't know, I give great advice. But right, back on message, gotta stay on point.

Alright, so where was I? Oh yeah, even though kids may act more and more like miniature adults (shut up, I know that that's kinda what they are anyway) doesn't mean they stop having kid problems. Using the kids I see in the world around me, I'm here to offer some real world solutions to childhood problems.

1. Problem - Your son or daughter is getting picked on at school by a bully.
Solution - While I would never advocate your child using violence of any sort, I do encourage an open discussion between parents and children. Be sure to show interest/concern for your child. Children should feel safe to talk to their parents and ask for their help. That's why, if your child seems like he/she is the victim of bullying, you should offer your help like any parent would. Money. If he/she is concerned about his/her safety, there's always the option of hiring someone else to teach this bully a lesson. Remember, I said I'd never advocate the child using violence, never said no to anyone else. Take a page out of that Texas mom's handbook, the one who took a hit out on the other girl on the cheerleading squad. I mean, people remember her for a reason.

2. Problem - Your son or daughter has a crush and is nervous about asking out a boy/girl at school.
Solution - Show interest. Ask them about their crush. Sure, they may be mortified at first, but in the end it'll pay off. Oh wait, I take that back. Tell them to watch Pretty Woman instead. They'll soon realize that a way to another person's heart isn't through love or affection, it's through money. If they're not Julia Roberts fans, which believe me, I can relate, tell them to check out The Real Housewives of New Jersey or any other city. They really both prove the same point. Money talks. Then the best you can do is step back and let the magic happen. Oh, and leaving your kid a couple of 20s certainly wouldn't hurt your chances at the "Parent of the year" award.

3. Problem - Your son or daughter is struggling in school.
Solution - Like I said, showing interest is key... but listening to kids' problems is boring. Ship 'em off to a shrink who will pump them full of drugs till they're too numb to whine about anything. Yet another problem solved by paying someone else to care. If you're one of those folks who doesn't believe in pharmacology, at least cut the kid some slack and hire someone else to do their homework. They get the good grades and you get to look like the hero.

So there you have it. Three common problems met with three real-world life lessons taught by yours truly. You may note that I myself do not have children. It'll happen one of these days and until then, I live vicariously through the parents of the world, buying their children's affection one day at a time. God bless America.

CelebReality

There was a time, granted it wasn't when I was alive, but there was a time when the movie star was a revered position in America. He/She told us what to smoke, what to drink, what to wear but that wasn't all. They told us what was American. There was a bizarre sense of patriotic duty in their work, perhaps because there was a stronger need for patriotism, but I'm not here to theorize on the state of affairs in present-day America.

The relationship between the movie star and the American public. The movie star needed people to continue to go to their movies. The American public needed someone to idolize, to revere almost. For a long time, that was the way it worked, with countless PR folks controlling the strings and doing all the behind the scenes work to hide any trace of flawed humanity. This helped to establish the golden age of screen culture. Sure, it was a messy business, but the men and women behind the scenes didn't care as long as their pet project stayed out of the gossip columns. The American people at home? I find it hard to believe they really didn't know that there was a darker side to Hollywood, but it was almos mutually agreed that nobody talked about it. It wasn't an age of decency, it was the packaging, production, and placement of the American dream. "What's that? Donna Reed uses Mop and Glo? You should too!" It was all about the money, but at least there was this false promise of purity.

Now what do we have? We have celebrities doing, I'm sure, the same thing that people did in the golden age of celebrity screen culture, we just have different needs this time around. Now, your average American doesn't want to be sold a pack of Virginia Slims by some big-eyed starlet. No, now we want that element of flawed humanity. We want to know that these big names make the same mistakes as us. In fact, if at all possible, we want them to make bigger mistakes than us. Today's celebrity culture wants to strip away the layers and see that everyone's just as fucked as everyone else.

There are a variety of contributing factors, but who's the real culprit? Why, it's everybody's best friend, technology. I mean, the blame can't be squarely placed on the shoulders of Twitter and cell phone cameras. After all, celebrities do have to take responsibility for their own actions like the rest of us. Still, this fascination of the reality of the American celebrity (or celebreality for short) is this. The constant level of exposure usually leads to one of two extremes; either the American public is smitten or they quickly become disenchanted and disengaged from the work the celebrity produces based on their actions in real life. One of the more recent examples is the whole Mel Gibson racist, anti-semitic rant. I was disgusted by what he said, as I hope most people were. However, it is his personal life that informs us on his professional life. If we had never heard that rant, would people be more likely to see his movies? Well, maybe not because he doesn't seem to make much these days... plus, there's that whole DUI thing... but if he did, without this exposure to the inner most workings of his seriously depraved mind, none of us would have known any better.

I'm not taking a stance either way. Believe me, I hate that most of us, myself included, have gotten to point of judging people based on anything besides their work, but in certain instances, they're just too horrible in real life that it's impossible to avoid. Still, I'm just saying, there's no way Frankie Avalon would've tried to pull this shit. We've come along from the birth of celebrity culture to our star obsessed celebreality.

Character Study

He wanted to like who he was. Or at least who he was with himself. He offered some sort of false hope, that he was somehow better than all his shortcomings and his modest successes. He wasn’t. He knew this much to be true. These thoughts clouded his mind on days when he was confined to his room, no voice except his own hammering out concise statements, philosophizing on life and the eternal human condition. These were the days he felt a prisoner of his own mind, doomed to his small room, thinking and theorizing about a life he knew he would never live. There was madness in his process, but there was a sense of security, a safety as he hid away from any real human connections other than the intimate one he had forged with himself years ago. But what he saw was an opportunity, the possibility that all his antiquated and bitter sentiments about mankind and his mistresses were somehow products of his environment, falsehoods that he told himself to rationalize an irrational fear of human touch. The window of his room offered outlook, but a removal from the world around him. It’s easy to judge behind panes of glass. But not him, the man with the weathered face and the tired eyes. The expression he wore was a testament to the cruelty of the outside elements, the physical abuse and emotional torment of going through life, living for the next day but never for the moment in which he resided. He saw in his glassed over eyes the regrettable nature of living, the flesh stripped of all signs of life as it hung, wearily, from the man’s gaunt face. He clung to these images of self, these preserved moments in which his existence, his reality, was undeniable. He didn’t need someone else to see him, to touch him, to hear the steady beat of his heart, because he had all these things. He knew the others, the weak ones outside his realm of self, the ones who needed to be touched and to be heard to know that they were alive. He scoffed at them because he knew what the lives of others brought. He knew that with the touch of others came the responsibility to hear and be heard, to touch and be touched, to feel for others, to be hurt by others. He didn’t need to feel that again. He didn’t need to know the misery of others as proof of life. He had built a life of his own within the safety of the decaying walls, the yellowing wallpaper of his room that curled up in the corners, reminders of the damage that had been done to this room and to himself. His squalid surroundings seemed a fitting cage for his fractured thoughts and false declarations of superiority. He was imprisoned in this room. He clung to its reminders of the passing of time, and the passing of his time. He wasn’t always alone.

Behind Lynch's Blue Velvet Curtain

Ever since Hitchcock invited audiences to engage in people’s most private moments with his 1954 film Rear Window, America’s fascination with the going-ons of other people’s lives has continued. This has led to a sub-genre of sorts in which the protagonist is not necessarily in the right, but through the film’s progression the audience itself becomes complicit. This was illustrated recently with the film Disturbia which applies the illicit gaze technique. However, other films in this genre took lessons from Hitchcock and managed to create something uniquely their own such as film auteur David Lynch and his 1986 film Blue Velvet. Blue Velvet’s voyeuristic tendencies bear a striking resemblance to Hitchock’s classic film, however Lynch manages to draw from his predecessor and manipulate his own story in a way that is just as similar to Hitchcock’s piece as it is his own.
Blue Velvet’s initial premise of a young man’s fascination with the inner workings of a mysterious older woman is one of the most obvious elements. Lynch clings to the idea of voyeurism throughout the film. One of the strongest scenes where Jeffrey is watching Dorothy through her closet door illustrates the “perverse joy” of watching and being watched quite well. Once again, the importance of gender is an element crucial to the film as well. Audiences may note that the voyeur, and arguably the characters who tend to have the upper hand throughout the film, are male characters. This is demonstrated through Jeff’s watching and Frank’s abusive nature and stature, such as his violence against Dorothy, the rape scene, and his positioning of himself above her except when he regresses to his childlike form. Although this film is a product of the 1980s the role of Sandy as love interest and accomplice is almost a caricature of the leading ladies in the old Hollywood films that Lynch seems to be mocking. One scene that demonstrates this is after Jeff calls Sandy who has just helped a naked and crazed Dorothy into an ambulance. Almost immediately after Jeff’s apology, she accepts in an almost laughable manner. However, most of these elements can be forgiven in Lynch’s approach to the material. With this film, Lynch explores alternative elements while paying homage to Hithcock.
One of the most palpable themes of the film is the concept of sensory perception. Throughout the film there are clues that challenge the viewer to experience the movie beyond mere vision. Such an example can be found in one of the film’s inciting incidents, when Jeff finds the severed ear. Even though we are only seeing the movie, it immediately conjures up thoughts of what we hear. Furthermore, the film’s title is not only a song, but it is also a fabric, evoking both the senses of touch and sound. This is illustrated in another way as Jeffrey’s adventures transcend the voyeurs and his story becomes more experiential. For instance, it is upon his second encounter with Dorothy that he is dragged into her depraved world. Very soon there after, Jeff finds himself entangled in Dorothy’s life as well as the misdeeds of Frank with very real bruises from both experiences to prove how hands-on he has become. Another thematic idea that is expressed visually in the film is that not everything is as it seems. This is demonstrated in the film’s opening when Mr. Beaumont collapses and the camera shows the bugs crawling through the turf in the seemingly perfect lawn. However, it is also evidenced in the very setting of the film itself. The town Jeff lives in is the idyllic quiet town that is often associated with the 1950s, but at its heart there is evil, which is personified by Frank. In a way, the setting of the film is one of the most explicit representations of Lynch’s themes of the film.
Although these visuals communicate very basic ideas, Blue Velvet never claims to be complex. While its execution may be atypical, most of its themes seem very rudimentary. They are themes that we have seen in hundreds of films before and will continue to for years to come. Although its resemblance to Hitchock’s Rear Window is uncanny, Lynch manages to make good use of some of the themes of Rear Window in this film, while supplying a new location to drive home some ideas of his own. Regardless, Lynch’s Blue Velvet is a return to the themes of voyeurism and antiquated gender roles while finding a new way to make the film more experiential and forcing the audience to be aware that nothing is as it seems, not even in suburbia.

The Unsung and Undressed Heroes of Horror

Millions of young people flee to LA with stars in their eyes and the dream of making it big. The reality of it? At least a couple hundred will end up slinging hamburgers, even more will end up on a bus back home and, well, some will try less legal means to survive before admitting failure. Yeah, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talkin' about...

But every so often the paths of the ill-fated and the starstruck cross. We like to call that the horror movie. Sure, I love horror movies as much as... no, probably more than the next guy. Still, I'm not gonna pretend it's glamorous. I mean, sure there's the blood and the splatter and for some reason the occasional nip slip, but what do we expect? It's Hollywood, sex and violence go together like milk and cookies.

Still, this isn't some rant about the amoral products of Hollywood. No sir, this is about that dream of making it big, and where do you start? Shakin' your goods for the cameraman in a horror movie. I mean, look at the track record folks. Jennifer Aniston in Leprechaun. I mean, sure, she's not much of an actress, but she's cute as hell and that didn't seem to bother much of America during her Friends days. Renee Zellwegger in The Return of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre or as I like to call it Oh God Please Let This Be the Last One or Kill Me Now So I Don't Have to Suffer Through ANother Renee Zellwegger Movie. There's a surprisingly long list of actors and actresses (although primarily actresses) who have gone legitimate after their horror debuts.

Alas, I digress again. You see, this isn't about the folks that make it big. If you thought that it was, my apologies. This is about their co-stars, the ones that get left behind and singed by the blast as others skyrocket towards fame. Most famously, "the naked girl". Now you may be thinking, "What naked girl? What the hell is he talking about?" But let's not be naive. When talking about horror, specifically the slasher, we're usually talkin' some nudity. This is before the days where PG-13 horror dominated, of course.

But let's talk a minute, and stop and thinking about all those women that got their kits off for the enjoyment of the audience, only to be brutally murdered by some masked figure. Ignore the absolute humiliation of being found naked and dead, I'm talkin' about the actress here. She gets to look forward to callin' home and saying, "Look ma, I made it!" I mean, sure, there's that, followed quickly by "Oh no, no, that's fine, you don't need to see it. I just wanted to tell you I got an acting job..." I'd take being discovered naked over that awkward conversation any day, but that could just be me. So this is for you ladies, the unsung and undressed heroes of horror. May God and your mother never see your shame.

Danticat's Delicacy in The Dew Breakers

In Edwidge Danticat’s The Dew Breakers, she illustrates a way with words that is unparalleled in beauty and simplicity. Although the novel’s title itself is a reference to the brutality of those who tortured innocent Haitians, the way she weaves the story is as delicate as the sensitive subject itself.
What is quite possibly the most enchanting aspect of this novel is the author herself, who shows the kind of respect for her stories and the language with which she tells them. One example is the short story entitled Book of Miracles. In it she details a family’s experience at midnight mass when they think they see one of the torturers from Haiti. What could easily be an overly dramatic piece is instead treated with a sense of compassion that is almost indescribable. This is part of Danticat’s gift, her removal from the experience. She herself never underwent the torturous practices of the Dew Breakers, but she never claims to be able to voice this experience. In a world where it seems everyone’s clamoring for the next shocking tell-all, Danticat seems content in making her audience feel. Most importantly, while torture is obviously an awful experience, she does not paint it as simply a terrible experience. With close attention to detail and simple, accessible language she creates the complexities of the emotional stigma of the events that took place. To find a writer as humble in her expression of these stories is both alarming and charming at the same time in our modern literary world.
Danticat’s novel is engaging for a myriad of reasons. Perhaps the most distinguishable is that her novel has no pretensions. She feels the story must be told, but she takes the time to illustrate her characters as real life people, not merely victims. Also, she doesn’t barrage the audience with gory details, she uses intense settings sparingly and beautifully, to draw the reader out of his/her comfort zone, to make the experience real. Regardless of personal preferences when it comes to literature, Edwidge Danticat has envisioned an important and compassionate portrayal of the lives of those with painful and all too real pasts.

Spielberg's Direction: Where He's Come From & What Lies Ahead

Spielberg is arguably one of the most versatile directors of our generation. Although he first established his footing in the Hollywood system by providing an escape for movie-goers as he evolved, he has allowed his films to take a more realistic turn. Spielberg, in no uncertain terms, has been hailed as a success both critically and commercially. However, the element that makes his films so fantastical and others, more honest, is the element of Spielberg himself. He invests a great deal into his craft, addressing elements of his own heritage in some films, while modeling his films about fantasy and science fiction after his own fears. Spielberg is by no means the first to have done this, but what makes Spielberg’s journey so memorable is how he got his start. Beginning with Jaws, we saw him deal with his characters insecurities. He began his career by displacing his own fears and projecting them onto characters. Although the process was a somewhat convoluted one, Spielberg later made the issues of his characters much more personal and for lack of a better term “more Spielberg”. All the while, Spielberg continued to make movies. It was as if he enabled American audiences everywhere to watch as he evolved. American movie-goers have watched as he essentially grew up, making his story of success a much more personal one. Some of the best examples of his growing up and addressing his past can be found in Schindler’s List, Saving Private Ryan, and Catch Me If You Can while other films of his about confronting the future are The Lost World: Jurassic Park, AI: Artificial Intelligence, Minority Report, and War of the Worlds.
Schindler’s List is easily one of Spielberg’s most obvious films. This is not to discount its message, but by this stage in his life Spielberg had discovered his own personal understanding of the importance of being a Jew. However, this is Spielberg’s first film where he expressly says this by telling the story of Oskar Schindler who saved the lives of thousands of Jews in a time when the Jewish people needed a hero. This film, although obvious, is also complicated in the general feel of it. Spielberg shows the urgency of understanding the atrocities committed by the Nazi party during the Holocaust. He unflinchingly shows the utter desecration of the Krakow ghetto in one of the most moving scenes in recent movie history. However, all of this is done in black and white with the exception of the little girl in the red coat. Although the symbolism behind the red coat has been a topic of debate since the film’s release, the only reason it receives any importance is the rest of the film being black and white. Spielberg gives color to the little girl while leaving the other deaths cold and gray in a sort of respectful censorship of his own work. Nothing is to be gained by pouring on gallons of fake blood, but rather, the imagery of these corpses is just as powerful in black and white, while at the same time, somewhat softening the blow for both audiences and to an extent, Spielberg himself. Spielberg has grown in being able to even show these horrors in black and white at all. However, Spielberg, after shocking audiences with this brutal imagery, returns to his attempts to make audiences happy. While the story of Oskar Schindler is an important story to tell, it is a triumphant one in a period which was not traditionally marked by salvation. Although some may argue that the film wouldn’t be as well received if Spielberg had told a tale that ended with everyone dying, death in the Holocaust is an important part of Spielberg’s heritage as a Jew. This is not to say that the film is any less of a film because Spielberg ended on a fairly positive note, but rather that Schindler’s List in some ways feels like a test to Spielberg. Not only is he questioning if he can handle making such a personal film, but it’s as if he’s asking himself if he can bear to disappoint his audience by not giving them a traditional somewhat hopeful ending. Regardless, Schindler’s List is a bittersweet homage to Spielberg’s own history.
Saving Private Ryan is 5 years down the line for Spielberg. In it, he re-visits the same time period as Schindler’s List, but concentrates on a very different matter. He concentrates on the American involvement in the efforts of World War II. Once again, Spielberg shocks audiences in this film with the graphic portrayal of the war effort. However, in this film there are several key differences from Schindler’s List which in some ways made it more relate-able to audiences and at the same time, all the more horrifying, while illustrating how Spielberg had grown in between the two. First and foremost, Spielberg filmed Saving Private Ryan in color. He brought to life the grit of the trenches in a way that he was almost too afraid to do in his earlier work. Merely a few minutes in, Spielberg re-creates the invasion of Normandy in frightening realism. With Saving Private Ryan, Spielberg was unafraid in his portrayal of WWII. He was fully aware that what occurred during the time the World was at war was terrifying. With this film, he sought to show younger generations, generations that had only been shown the victorious photographs of WWII and read about it in textbooks, just what America had been through. This was also a crucial difference in Saving Private Ryan. Whereas Schindler’s List had been set in Poland with Europeans, this film took Americans abroad. While American audiences were able to watch Schindler’s List and few able to actually experience the film, Saving Private Ryan was about Americans, there was no longer any way for audiences to disassociate. This was a daring move on Spielberg’s part, but showed his maturity in being able to break away from his image as the blockbuster crowd-pleaser. Once again, Spielberg by the end of the movie is trying to make amends for what he’s done to audience members over the course of the film, but there is a sense of a changed man in this film’s ending. Spielberg kills off Miller who is essentially his main character. Not only that, but viewers see Miller die onscreen. The concept alone of the main character dying isn’t something Spielberg had toyed with before really until Schindler’s List and even then, we are only shown his grave. In Saving Private Ryan, Spielberg illustrates his growth in ways that audiences had never seen before. Although Private Ryan lives because Miller dies, Spielberg offers a far more intense bittersweet ending than in his previous work.
Catch Me If You Can is one of Spielberg’s most backwards films in terms of his cinematic evolution. It once again returns to some of the issues that have been plaguing Spielberg since his childhood, predominantly his conflict with his father. Most importantly, the issues that Frank has with his father mirror the issues that Spielberg has with his own father. Just like in Spielberg’s own life, the family unit goes down the drain. However, although these are old issues, Spielberg addresses them with a newfound understanding. In many of his movies, Spielberg fights to keep the family together or form a new family and everyone will be happy again. In Catch Me If You Can, Frank’s family falls apart in the first part when his father is discovered as a criminal and later, Frank’s mother has an affair. This is initially one of the deciding factors that sends Frank into a life of crime. While the film is about Frank Abagnale Jr. and his madcap crimes, to Spielberg, the focus never seems to shift from Frank as a person and of course, his interaction with his family. One of the most realistic aspects of the film that Spielberg seems to be working towards is the lack of resolution with the father figure. At one point when Frank is told that his father has passed away, he reaches the most emotional state the audience has seen him in. Spielberg seems to be hinting at the fact that he’s not entirely over his own issues with his father and there’s a good possibility that he will never resolve them. Further more, when Frank sees his mother again he finds out that she has moved on and created a family of her own with the man that she was having an affair with. Together, the two have a child, thus completing their family. There is no longer a need for the prodigal son. This being established, Spielberg establishes for the audience that things will never be the same for Frank. His issues with his father left unresolved, and his mother moving on with a new family, there seems to be no hope left for him. Spielberg’s own disappointment is what characterizes this film as maturation in terms of the Spielberg film. It’s as if for the first time Spielberg is being absolutely honest and absolutely blunt about his own feelings of displacement as a result of his own father’s abandonment. There’s a certain fearfulness in his portrayal of the family that is also recognizable in other Spielberg films addressing other matters.
One example of such is The Lost World: Jurassic Park in which Spielberg returns to familiar territory with this sequel. Spielberg has fun with the sequel, largely playing it off as mere entertainment or yet another Summer blockbuster. However, the dynamics in The Lost World are interesting in the way that Spielberg has played with them. For example, Malcolm returns except this time with an African-American daughter. Spielberg, after marrying Kate Capshaw who had previously adopted children, adopted one of Capshaw’s children, Theo, an African-American child. Although such a minute detail, it shows Spielberg’s more involved approach to his film-making, injecting a little bit of himself into the project to make it his own. Also, the concern for the children is once again a major part of the story although in this film, it’s only one child. Malcolm’s daughter differs from Tim and Lex in that Spielberg also seems to be saying that as wonderful as they are, it’s also difficult to raise children. Throughout the film, Malcolm and Kelly are at odds with each other for most of the time starting from when Kelly stows away and sneaks onto the island until the end. However, Spielberg also shares with the audience some of his newer, sub-conscious fears which manifest themselves in the finale of the film. In 1997, Spielberg was 51, which is by no means old, but it also the age where the philosophy that “age is just a number” seems to lose some of its rationale. His fear of growing old comes alive towards the end of the film when we see old, represented by the T-Rex, meet the new, which is illustrated in San Diego. Of course when the T-Rex arrives in San Diego mass hysteria ensues. The only way that the problem can be solved is when the T-Rex is tranquilized and shipped back to the island from which it was created. There’s no place for the old in the age of the new. Spielberg’s films were still wildly successful in 1997 and continue to be in this day and age, but Spielberg’s irrational fear of becoming old or dated come alive in an interesting way in The Lost World: Jurassic Park.
In A.I. Spielberg once again faces the future, however, his fears take a variety of shapes in this film. Perhaps the most universal fear that Spielberg addresses in the beginning of the movie when it discusses the effects that global warming has had on the Earth. In 2001, global warming wasn’t as widely regarded a phenomenon as it is today, but it still seemed urgent enough for Spielberg to place as a detail in the movie. It is by no mistake that he doesn’t make it the central focus of the film, because he uses the rest of the film to recognize much more personal fears, but in using the detail that global warming has reduced some of the World’s greatest cities to things of the past, he is addressing it as a very real problem and an utterly universal issue. Although the problem of global warming is predominantly addressed in passing, Spielberg occupies his audience with one of his more personal problems which is the issue of love. Love is obviously a very strong theme in the movie since it is the driving force for David’s actions which span thousands of years. As viewers we are shown the profound impact David’s ability to love has on his actions and the actions of those around him, but more importantly, we see the effects of a lack of love. We see this when Henry’s love for his own son trumps whatever emotion he had for David who was merely a stand-in for his son. As soon as Henry’s son comes back, his love for his own son complicates his relationship with David. It’s as if Henry were simply waiting for David to screw up so he could get rid of him and focus on his relationship with his biological son. Still, David persists. He continues to love Monica because in actuality, she was the only one who showed any real love for him. This allows the audience to see Henry, a father figure, as weak and even callous in his actions, once again returning to Spielberg’s complicated relationship with his own father. However, in Monica, we see true love. Monica’s ability to see past biological vs. non-biological is what makes her a dimensional character to the audience. In a way, this is Spielberg once again returning to his experience with adoption. Through this film, he works through his own personal fears surrounding the questions that adoption has raised for him. In the very beginning, Spielberg is asking himself “Can I love this kid enough?”. Spielberg’s own father might not have been able to, but Spielberg seems fairly certain that he can by the end of the movie when Monica tells David that she has always loved him. Perhaps an even more important question Spielberg asks himself is in the scene at the flesh fair. With this scene he seems to be asking “What will my child have to endure?”. Obviously the differences between Steven Spielberg and Theo are pronounced. Spielberg seems to fear that these differences will have a profound effect on his adopted children. Not necessarily from his standpoint, but how other people interact with them. However, all of his fears are resolved in the conclusion of the film when he states that love is enough. Love is what drove David and allowed Monica to accept him regardless in a time when people seemed to be afraid of the advancements of technology.
By 2002, something had changed within Spielberg. Technology was no longer something that offered hope, but it had since become an instrument of power. However, he is quick to make the distinction that it is not technology that is inherently evil, but the people that abuse it for their own gains are evil. This is the main focus of Minority Report. With this film, Spielberg shows exactly why he has lasted so long as a director. Although loosely based off of a Phillip K. Dick novel, Spielberg brings his own touch and a certain sense of sensibility to the film bringing a touch of realism to the science fiction epic. By this period in time, America had been transformed by the events of 9/11 and the actions that the government was taking had begun to transform the nation into a unified community, but also, a very suspicious community. Minority Report functions beautifully as a product of its time. Even though it could’ve been created at any time, a certain potency lingers thanks to the fact that it was created when it was. It wasn’t soon after the American public found out about Bush’s wire tapping thus, in a way, confirming the fears that Spielberg had outlined in Minority Report. Another aspect of Minority Report is Spielberg’s fear of the system which in most of his films is either not addressed, more than likely because he has the system to thank for his success, or is otherwise considered to be a minor plot point. It shows a side of Spielberg that realizes his influence on the Hollywood system and on movie-going audiences. He is asking audiences everywhere to question what is going on, to do more than just accept the course that the American government had taken in limiting the rights of its citizens. However, Minority Report is set in the further future and takes a much more extreme route, therefore it serves almost as a cautionary tale. Spielberg seems to be saying with the film that things have gotten bad in America, but they always could get worse. Although in some respects it’s a reflection of America’s current state, it also serves as a cautionary tale of what we could become.
War of the Worlds is also a product of the post-9/11 craze that very much affected the American public, except with the subject matter being invaders from outer space, the fear is clearly an outside one. Spielberg seems to enjoy making War of the Worlds on a very different level than his other films. He seems somewhat detached from the project, perhaps because it is predominantly recycled material, or perhaps because it simply is less personal. The concept of foreign beings and the fear of them is not something particularly characteristic of Spielberg himself, but it represents the fear of the American public seen through Spielberg’s eyes. Although most people before they even saw the film were aware of the role it played in U.S. history when Orson Welles first broadcast it on the radio in 1938, it’s fair to say that Spielberg’s film enveloped audiences and re-created the fear that audiences knew so well. One particularly memorable moment in War of the Worlds is when Rachel, in the grip of fear, timidly asks if it’s the terrorists that are doing this. This line is particularly telling because not only does it represent the fear in a post-9/11 world, but also how even years later, the media and the government, essentially all of America, continues to sensationalize every story in order to keep Americans in a constant state of fear for other terrorist attacks. Spielberg seems to attempt to communicate that fear is a very basic human emotion. It’s to be expected that people would be living in fear, but at the same time, there are things to be more fearful of than terrorists. While at no point during the film does Spielberg make the events as realistic as they were when first heard in 1938, he does seem to consider the effects of fear to be a very real experience. As ridiculous as it may sound, War of the Worlds is just as much an alien movie as it is Spielberg expressing his own fear about what people become when in a state of fear. The utter desperation of the situation is perhaps more frightening than the mechanical beings themselves. There are a variety of examples, but perhaps the most upsetting is when Ray kills Harlan. Audiences have watched Ray from the beginning, we see how he cares for his kids, how he reacts when the tripods first attack, but we see a complete overhaul of his character when he feels that Harlan threatens his own and his daughter’s chances of survival. He kills the man because he feels it is what must be done, but at the same time, it represents a darker side of Ray than audiences thought capable. Especially since Ray is portrayed as a very every man American figure, it represents the capability of destructiveness that lives within us all. Although War of the Worlds is at first glance a story of fear of the unknown and foreign figures, it is just as much about the fear of the unknown within ourselves and the fear of desperation and even fear itself.
Spielberg examines a variety of themes in his always versatile projects. A main focus of his is that Spielberg examines both the past and the future in an effort to understand himself, both in terms of his heritage as illustrated in a variety of his films and his fears which usually manifest themselves in his more fantasy-oriented films. Although Spielberg has grown throughout his time as a film-maker he continues to remain somewhat guarded in the handling of his own fears while he is also able to distance himself to a certain degree with the removal of himself in his historical films. Regardless, throughout his films Spielberg continues to grow and expose himself to movie-going audiences everywhere, allowing a more personal look into the life and works of one of America’s cinematic geniuses.

An Open Letter to Sony Asshole Execs

Dear assholes at Sony,
I'm sure with all the shit decisions you folks make day in and day out, I'm not the first person to address you as such. That being said, and the obvious aggression, I think it's safe to say that I have a bone to pick with you. I know that I've been other this with my slew of 21 followers (yeeeaahhhh, I may not have that much clout) but I've just got this one nagging question in the back of my mind.

Why blu ray? No, not why the format, I get the lossless audio and the high definition picture. In fact, you know how I know about those things? No, I'm not some nerd who reads Wired magazine and while it's true that I have a blu ray player (well, a PS3 that happens to be a blu ray player), that's not the reason either. It's because every time I sit down to watch a Sony issued blu ray, ya know what I get to sit through? That's right, that inane fucking ad about how blu ray is so much better and about how you should be buying blu ray instead of DVD.

Now, back when I had a DVD player (once again, an X-Box 360 that happened to function as a DVD player), it was just kinda condescending. Yeah, I get it, it's higher quality, but it's also more expensive. There were plenty of things (especially being a broke-ass college student at an art school ne less) that stopped me from getting things on blu ray. Even now, there are some things that I maintain I think look better on standard DVD than blu ray, but that's a whole other issue. I'm just sayin', it was douche-y when I couldn't afford it, to dangle it in front of my nose, but if I could, I think I'd rather go back to that.

See, here's the issue. Don't worry, I'll make it simple. I bought the PS3, right? So I now have a blu ray player. I then have gone on to purchase some blu rays, namely from your company, but what's that? Before the menu, what do I have to sit through again? That's right, why Sony blu ray is cutting edge and leading the way in motion picture technology and so on and so forth. I already caved, what else do you want? Yes, I support your company, so why with this persistent torture? Instead of being condescending, now it's just annoying and of course, it's there on every blu ray. I understand the capitalism angle, but seriously, just do everyone a solid and use a little more discretion.
Sincerely,
Yeah right, like I'm actually gonna sign my name here

The Internet is Really really Great...

Today's post is decidedly rather PG-13 so if you keep on reading, well, you've been warned so that shit's on you. Now know I'm late to the game, but I'm just now getting around to watching "Lost", not because I want to but because I think it'll be beneficial in one of the classes I'm taking this fall. Now this is where it might get confusing for those who don't watch the show or who haven't watched the first season in a while, but just stay with me. In Locke's whole backstory, they make sure his life is super depressing and all that, but one thing struck me and that was his relationship with Helen, who at this point pretty much sounds like a phone sex operator.

Alright, done with Lost, now I can focus on the real issue. Not to sound all jerry Seinfeild-y, but seriously, what is the deal with phone sex? I legitimately cannot understand why someone would pay $2.99 to have some stranger tell them naughty things while they... are takin' care of business or whatever.

I mean, it's a scientific fact that the male mind is much more image-based and women's imaginations are driven verbally so if we were talking phone sex for women? Yeah, that I kind of get, but I'm not sure if they even have things like that. I mean, I guess I could have done some research before I woke up and start writing this, but that just strikes me as a situation that could get awkward really fast.

Still, I know that it was used to show the character's loneliness and eagerness to connect, but I mean, come on guys, can we put a little more thought into it? I mean, nobody can really accuse Lost of not thinking, but that was just lazy storytelling. Because here's the thing, although I may be the only asshole up at 7 AM writing about how he doesn't get phone sex, I can't be the only one who thinks it.

The reality of it is this, and I'm warning you that it's harsh, but here goes. If you want to spend that money doin' your business with some stranger over the phone who assures you that she's just wearing a nightie when she's probably just telling you what you want to hear, that's fine. I'm not one to judge so believe me, I won't. But the internet is full of free porn so if the issue is just getting your rocks off, why spend the money? If someone could explain this to me, that'd be great. Or just the phone sex thing in general. I've never really gotten it.

1960s Cinema: America At Odds With Itself

Its important, when viewing a film, to find out where it comes from. As has been said, time and time again, films are indicative of the time in which they were produced, but what also must be understood is the time beforehand. Of course, in American society we understand that the 50s was an era that was ripe for popular culture. Even films today attempt to examine the complexity and disillusionment that is so characteristic of this decade. As a result, the films of the 1960s can be split up predominantly into 2 major categories. Although this is an oversimplification, for argument’s sake, the first half of the decade seemed to be much of a continuation of 50s ideals and attitudes. For instance, even though the beach party movies were alive and well in the previous decade, they continued into the 1960s as well. This attitude seemed to suggest the age-old philosophy of “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”. However, as the era saw continuing hostility against staples of 1950s culture, such as the inherent sexism and the need for conformity, Hollywood began to fight back the only way they knew how, by producing a new set of films. To understand films of the 60s, even with its own set of new issues, was in many ways reactionary to the previous decade.
One of the earliest films in this new decade to challenge the traditions of the 1950s, was made by legendary Billy Wilder as early as 1960. The film in question, The Apartment, exposed many of the questionable morals and going-ons of the typically unassuming and supposedly innocent business man. Billy Wilder, has always been known to be a rather daring writer and director, but with this film he explored office politics, sexism, and adultery, which were typically topics of discussion that wouldn’t be as explicitly discussed as they are in this film as early as 5 years before. What is perhaps even more shocking is that, these topics were the subject of comedy. It’s essentially common knowledge, in this day and age of South Park parodies and Saturday Night Live skits mocking presidential candidates, that if a topic is to be taken seriously, it must be joked about first. There’s no way somebody even as talented as Wilder could dive into these topics, that Americans had been working so hard to ignore all these years, in a serious manner and come out on top. This points to another area of Wilder’s intelligence in making this film. He was so in tune with what the American public would take away from this film and what they would put up with. Without serving up a high dosage of morality or ethics, he does force people to ask themselves hard-hitting questions that would have almost uncertainly otherwise gone unasked. He forced people to confront the social injustices that they had simply grown complacent with. All the while, and perhaps most alarming, he did it while making people laugh. Underneath Wilder’s rage or dissatisfaction with the state of office politics, whatever emotion he may have been feeling, he managed to channel the absurdity of reality in this film. It’s hard to say what made people laugh at this movie, whether it was the ludicrous nature of the truth or just discomfort, but this film did phenomenally both commercially and critically. Wilder’s own personal complexity is brilliantly illustrated in this film in one of the most memorable scenes of 1960s cinema. When C.C. Baxter comes across Fran in his apartment, after overdosing on sleeping pills, what ensues could be a heartbreaking and melodramatic portrayal of a woman at the end of her rope. Rather than deliver us the expected, Wilder plays it for a comical piece. In most instances in the film, Wilder opts for comedy, but still manages to allude to a stronger underlying emotional vulnerability in his characters. Furthermore, the film’s conclusion is far from the idyllic ending of pictures of the 1950s. While it is unquestionable that C.C. and Fran do what is right for them, there’s no way that that would even be consider an option in earlier films. Even though both of them quit their jobs in order to be together and to finally escape from the trappings of the corporate world, there is no real happy ending for them except their companionship. Interest in another job or another way to make a living is never referenced, but the two of them are together. While this is all well and good, it’s very outside of the definition of success for the time. In most films, the guy gets the girl, complete with the dream house and the dream job, but in The Apartment, Wilder’s truly auspicious offering besides the girl, is an escape from the corporate world.
A more incendiary response to the values of 1950s cinema, was Roman Polanski’s 1968 horror classic, Rosemary’s Baby. While the films of the previous decade encouraged conformity and more importantly, a sense of belonging, Rosemary’s Baby shuns away from it. It tells the story of Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse, who move to a new apartment in hopes of getting Guy more work. Like the classic wife of the 1950s, Rosemary is almost always more than happy to give up anything to better her husband. Throughout the beginning of the film, Rosemary seems to follow in the footsteps of the Donna Reed’s and June Cleaver’s of the world. However, as the film progresses, she begins to feel alienated and isolated from those around her. She begins to have these nightmares in which Satan is raping her, but even though she voices her concerns to her husband, he dismisses them and when she breaks down in hysterics in front of the neighbors, he even goes so far to admonish her. Guy represents, on the surface, a very typical male of these types of films. He exercises tough love and is always firm with her, but when times get tough, he’s always quick to reassure Rosemary of his love for her. What Guy really is representative of is the new male. Women were becoming more empowered and men like Guy began to feel threatened by this increase of female power. Guy’s typical response to Rosemary’s increasing hysteria and paranoia is to quietly dismiss them. By not giving them validity, he is controlling the power as best he knows how. By the end of the film, it is apparent that Rosemary’s hysterics are not due to a hormone imbalance as her doctors have told her, but that she is pregnant with the anti-Christ. Rosemary’s very worst fears are confirmed when she finds that Guy is part of this grand conspiracy. He has helped bring the spawn of Satan into this world in an effort to advance his career, thus establishing his dominance, not only as the male in the relationship, but by creating a situation where he essentially determines the fate of his wife and newborn, effectively rendering Rosemary to the weakened role of the female. Even in the film’s conclusion, when Rosemary finds the coven worshipping her newborn, the sight of her child weakens her. She succumbs to her womanly intuitions and mothers the child, even though she knows what he is. Another aspect of the film that is crucial to the film’s climax is this idea of the group. Where in earlier films, the group is the desired outcome, Polanski and Rosemary’s Baby author, Ira Levin, seem wary of the group. The sense of belonging is still promised in the film, but it is at the price of their newborn to a cult of Satan worshippers. This idea of community that was so ingrained in the culture of the 1950s is suddenly revealed as a horrifying concept in the late 1960s. Polanski seems aware of a variety of traditional values from the 1950s, but he forces his audience to question them. It is with horror that filmgoers watch as Rosemary joins the group and cradles the newborn son of Satan.
The 1960s film industry can still be seen today as an adverse reaction to the ideals and values perpetuated in 1950s cinema. Although these films exist in their own right, they must be seen as products of the 50s as well. The Apartment challenges the workplace in a comical manner, but brings some valid arguments to the table. Although the film’s conclusion may be unrealistic in its frankness, it shows progress from the earlier decades. It shows that people have a commitment to themselves and those they love, just as much as they do to a job. Rosemary’s Baby shows a very different side of the 1950s. It illustrates the horror inherent in the ideas that were commonly accepted at the time, including men’s unquestioned dominance and the role of the group. While both of these films explore very different facets of the culture, they serve to question what people had for so long refused to examine. With The Apartment and Rosemary’s Baby, these films represent the first mainstream and accessible criticism of American culture. These films remind even modern audiences that to idealize our nation’s history is irresponsible. Even in today’s world, there’s much progress to be made. However, speaking of the past, both these films exist as renowned and well-loved cultural artifacts, reminding us that to err is human, but to not question is reprehensible.

Heinemann's Successes and Failures as an Author and a Veteran

Heinemann’s novel, Close Quarters, holds a very different tale for Generation Y than those alive during the Vietnam War. The novel communicates its necessity of impressing upon its readers the real experience of war. Those that were alive during the time of the Vietnam War at least saw the images of war. They realized, to a certain extent, the horror that soldiers were going through as they fought a war that so few of them really believed in. For so many of us it’s so difficult for us to understand that and to be able to visualize the emotional, mental, and physical anguish of our soldiers. All the past wars have been reduced to statistics and very structured educational and “objective” viewpoints, which makes Heinemann’s detailed account difficult to come to life. I’m speaking of course about our generation that, by and large, has never lived through such a horrid experience and even the war that our country is in now is very filtered. That being said, Heinemann had a very difficult task that he set out to do, to communicate the experience to a generation that hadn’t lived through the war, but in a very removed sense had somewhat “experienced” it through the books, films, and images of Vietnam that exist today.
Close Quarters both benefits and suffers from Heinemann’s own experiences. Obviously it engages the reader and establishes a sort of unspoken trust between the reader and the writer, knowing that he’s writing from sort of personal experience, but it is also his experiences that make the novel difficult to read and, at times, perhaps a bit tedious. I can’t imagine that this novel was intended as light Summer reading by the poolside, and the gravity of the novel’s subject matter and its themes is established early on. However, as a Generation Y-er and a student, the novel comes across as dense as a result. Of course, when I began to read it and knowing I was reading it for a class and what it was about, I had to prepare myself. That being said, it is difficult to prepare one’s self completely for such an account, and I’m not sure I ever got used to it. One thing that makes it difficult to get accustomed to the book is its vocabulary. It may be realistic and representative of the experience, but speaking as a college student, it’s difficult to personally invest one’s self and submerge one’s self in the experience when you have to look up most of the words and acronyms.
Most importantly, and oddly enough, I think that the thing that I disliked the most about the novel is one of the things that I most respect about Larry Heinemann as an author and as a soldier, and that is his honesty. We’re so accustomed to this perception of war as this glorified action and it’s difficult to understand war as this one thing. War is a great many things, both ugly and brutal and at times, an absolute necessity. He details these experiences of war and the complexities of the actions that soldiers are asked to perform. As a reader, it put me out of my comfort zone more often than not, but at the same time, I viewed that as such a wake up call. War isn’t something that should be written about safely. It should be bold and it should be daring and it should force you to ask questions of morality and does it even exist in wartime?
Finally, as a reader I felt that this novel challenged me. Heinemann and his characters in the novel force these questions upon its readers, but never really provide them with answers. He clearly has his own feelings about the war and he articulates them quite well, amidst the jumble of military jargon, but he never provides answers to these questions of morality. I don’t think he necessarily has the answers. I would imagine that even at his age now, he’s still looking for answers. That’s what he asks of us as an audience. He asks us to question the actions and the unfolding of the Vietnam War. More importantly, this novel seems to be a quiet and dignified plea to not let the Vietnam War be forgotten as it seems to have become in recent years. Heinemann beautifully details the reality of the Vietnam War as a soldier and through it’s difficulties, seems to succeed in relating the experience to the new generation.

Luck Be a Bitch Tonight

We all have dreams of making it big. Some are more realistic than others, but the bottom line is, if somebody tells you they don't, they're probably bullshitting you. Still, in order to make it big, you either have to do one of two things; work hard or get lucky. Now, we all know it's the ultimate American turn-off in this day and age to actually work for what you get, so let's take a look at what's behind door number two, shall we?

Luck is a funny thing. Personally, I've never been one to put too much stock in luck, but then again, I've never been one too have much luck either. See, the way I see it is luck is called luck because whether it's good or it's bad, it's usually happening to someone else. Sure, there are those jackasses that claim that they're lucky and you hate 'em because you know it's the truth, but let's be real, that is a rare and elusive breed.

So my question is this; if luck is such an elusive thing (unless we're talking about bad luck, in which case you can't escape it) then why do we care so much? Is it the secret hope that next time that'll happen to us? It easily could be, but let's be honest. It's not so much that we want it to happen to us, but we don't want it to happen to somebody else. I'm not saying everyone out there is a bad person and completely selfish. I've seen plenty of examples of people's selflessness. Sure, they were usually on re-runs of "Touched By an Angel", but you get what I mean. I'm not damning the human race or condemning them which, face it, would be an easy task. I'm just looking at it from a pure odds perspective. Luck happening to somebody else is good fortune that isn't happening to you. It's understandable that someone would be pissed off about that. In fact, it'd probably be pretty normal to be bummed out about it.

And so the dysfunctional relationship with luck continues. Most people spend their lives counting the luck of themselves and others, but personally, that makes life more of a spectator sport. That's not really my thing. So my solution? I won't pretend it's eloquent or even very well thought out. My answer is to say fuck you to luck. If it comes my way? Sure, I'll be grateful for that and I definitely won't question it. Still, there's a big difference between that and waiting for it come around. I'm not gonna end on some cliche like "make your own luck" or some Chicken Soup for the Soul bullshit. Learn to live without and if it happens to come your way, don't wait too long because luck's not none to wait on too many folks.

REC Defies Horror Convention... By Embracing It

With all the horror movies coming out that are either remakes of original American films or the lesser known American remake of horror films, it's difficult to sift through the wreckage. Things aren't looking great for the genre, but every so often, something comes along that breathes new life into something stale or reminds us just what it was that made us fall in love with something the first place. For me, it was the Spanish film [REC]. People had been telling me to watch it ever since it was released, but I've never been a big fan of the whole "shaky camera = terror" thing. It's just tired for me so I was hesitant to see yet another movie that tried to make it something frightening, but I was surprised by what [REC] brought to the table.

First of all, it's important to understand that what works for [REC] is fairly "outdated" by American style. It reached its pinnacle with Scream and since then, it's been used in just about every other horror movie. So much so that what started out as a novel idea has become as trite as many of the standard horror go-tos, but the level of self-awareness that [REC] brings to the screen works well for it. While other movies would rely on it for some of the sight gags or the kills, [REC] acknowledges what it is and proceeds from there. Are there tired elements to this film as well? Certainly, but they're played for their potential. It has a sense of humor about itself that sometimes borders on inappropriate, but never crosses that line. Instead, it makes for an enjoyable genre film that seems to have no pretensions about being anything else.

Another element of [REC] that surprisingly worked for it was the style. The "shaky camera = terror" thing that I hate so much? Yeah, I was surprised by how effective it was in the film. However, that's because the camera is treated as the object that it is. You know how all cameras in these types of movies have infinite battery lives or seem to conveniently catch something that nobody else saw? I'm not sure where people buy these super powered cameras, but they seem to exist. [REC] plays the camera for its limitations. It doesn't see anything that the audience or the movie's characters don't see. This, of course, leaves the audience in the dark for so much of the film, but it helps when leading up to the conclusion. Also, call me old-fashioned, but I'm always a "less is more" kind of guy, so I personally enjoyed the limitations. They don't give it away all up front, but instead, they give you plenty of pieces to work with and some realistic gore that is truly impressive.

[REC] is by no means a perfect movie, but then again, horror fans probably gave up on perfect a while ago. Instead, it's enjoyably atmospheric. It plays the conventions of the genre to its advantage and what results is a thoroughly engaging horror flick.

Shameless Self-Promotion

Today is a day for shameless self-promotion. Check out The Scorecard Review for several of my own reviews as well as reviews from many other movie writers. Check it out for movie reviews and trailer reviews and be sure to sound off in the comments section.

The Crazies: Not as Crazy As It'd Like to Think

The Crazies is yet another example of one of those movies I would have loved to have loved, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It has all the makings of a good horror movie, but it wallows in its self-important political message.

Don't get me wrong, I'm political. I was even just about write "I watched all of the West Wing" but I realized that might distract my point. Regardless, I'm not one of those "Well, it doesn't affect me" type youths. In fact, I love political messages in movies, even if I don't personally agree with them. The thing is, there's a right way to do it and a wrong way to do it. The Crazies just doesn't feel like it has its heart in its meaning. I mean, i's never easy to remake a Romero flick, but throw in Romero's political savvy and his conviction and he's an out of this world filmmaker. Okay, maybe he's going through a rough patch with Survival of the Dead but even his rank movies now can't undo the political courage of his films of the 60s and 70s.

But this isn't about Romero's classic. God, how I wish it was, but it's not. This is about yet another remake that doesn't serve any real purpose. But see, that's where I get confused. The movie takes an early anti-government stance by illustrating the callousness and procedural violence that the government is willing to take against everyday Americans. In a way, it works. The violence itself is chilling in its depiction. However, the fervor and passion stirred up with this scenes is allowed to remain dormant for too long while we get to know our characters a little better. Olyphant and Mitchell are enjoyable to watch and provides interesting characters, but throw Joe Anderson and Danielle Panabaker into the picture? It becomes pretty clear early on that they only serve as adding to the body count, but nevertheless, they still get their moments to shine.

Honestly, it's nothing against their characters, just the way that the movie is executed. There are some great chilling moments (unfortunately, a few too many of them have been given away in trailers) but nothing too overwhelming. IN most parts of it, it's too dull or timid to be considered entertainment and in others it's too political to be seen as just entertainment. The issue is, well, the question of "what is the issue?" is the real problem. Is it an anti-government film? Is it a rally against the traditional values of small-town America? It never seems too sure. I firmly believe in its questioning of the U.S. government and their capabilities, but its execution is too distracted to be considered poignant. The film straddles having a real point and its desire to be entertainment, something that few directors besides Romero have been able to accomplish. If looking for scares? Look somewhere else, this movie is kind of lacking. If you're looking for a standard anti-government "who are the real monsters here?" morality tale? This could be your cup of tea, but don't mind me while I look for something a little stronger.

Blue Velvet: Lynch's Response to Hitchcock's Rear Window

Ever since Hitchcock invited audiences to engage in people’s most private moments with his 1954 film Rear Window, America’s fascination with the going-ons of other people’s lives has continued. This has led to a sub-genre of sorts in which the protagonist is not necessarily in the right, but through the film’s progression the audience itself becomes complicit. This was illustrated recently with the film Disturbia which applies the illicit gaze technique. However, other films in this genre took lessons from Hitchcock and managed to create something uniquely their own such as film auteur David Lynch and his 1986 film Blue Velvet. Blue Velvet’s voyeuristic tendencies bear a striking resemblance to Hitchock’s classic film, however Lynch manages to draw from his predecessor and manipulate his own story in a way that is just as similar to Hitchcock’s piece as it is his own.
Blue Velvet’s initial premise of a young man’s fascination with the inner workings of a mysterious older woman is one of the most obvious elements. Lynch clings to the idea of voyeurism throughout the film. One of the strongest scenes where Jeffrey is watching Dorothy through her closet door illustrates the “perverse joy” of watching and being watched quite well. Once again, the importance of gender is an element crucial to the film as well. Audiences may note that the voyeur, and arguably the characters who tend to have the upper hand throughout the film, are male characters. This is demonstrated through Jeff’s watching and Frank’s abusive nature and stature, such as his violence against Dorothy, the rape scene, and his positioning of himself above her except when he regresses to his childlike form. Although this film is a product of the 1980s the role of Sandy as love interest and accomplice is almost a caricature of the leading ladies in the old Hollywood films that Lynch seems to be mocking. One scene that demonstrates this is after Jeff calls Sandy who has just helped a naked and crazed Dorothy into an ambulance. Almost immediately after Jeff’s apology, she accepts in an almost laughable manner. However, most of these elements can be forgiven in Lynch’s approach to the material. With this film, Lynch explores alternative elements while paying homage to Hithcock.
One of the most palpable themes of the film is the concept of sensory perception. Throughout the film there are clues that challenge the viewer to experience the movie beyond mere vision. Such an example can be found in one of the film’s inciting incidents, when Jeff finds the severed ear. Even though we are only seeing the movie, it immediately conjures up thoughts of what we hear. Furthermore, the film’s title is not only a song, but it is also a fabric, evoking both the senses of touch and sound. This is illustrated in another way as Jeffrey’s adventures transcend the voyeurs and his story becomes more experiential. For instance, it is upon his second encounter with Dorothy that he is dragged into her depraved world. Very soon there after, Jeff finds himself entangled in Dorothy’s life as well as the misdeeds of Frank with very real bruises from both experiences to prove how hands-on he has become. Another thematic idea that is expressed visually in the film is that not everything is as it seems. This is demonstrated in the film’s opening when Mr. Beaumont collapses and the camera shows the bugs crawling through the turf in the seemingly perfect lawn. However, it is also evidenced in the very setting of the film itself. The town Jeff lives in is the idyllic quiet town that is often associated with the 1950s, but at its heart there is evil, which is personified by Frank. In a way, the setting of the film is one of the most explicit representations of Lynch’s themes of the film.
Although these visuals communicate very basic ideas, Blue Velvet never claims to be complex. While its execution may be atypical, most of its themes seem very rudimentary. They are themes that we have seen in hundreds of films before and will continue to for years to come. Although its resemblance to Hitchock’s Rear Window is uncanny, Lynch manages to make good use of some of the themes of Rear Window in this film, while supplying a new location to drive home some ideas of his own. Regardless, Lynch’s Blue Velvet is a return to the themes of voyeurism and antiquated gender roles while finding a new way to make the film more experiential and forcing the audience to be aware that nothing is as it seems, not even in suburbia.

The 140 Character Critic

We live in a society where, well, I'll be impressed if you've made it to the end of this sentence. We want it and we want it now. Damn the introduction and the notion of subtlety. One of the best examples of this, as I've said before but will repeat in case no one was listening, is the current fascination with Twitter.

Now when I talk about tis obsession that people seem to have with twitter, I don't want anyone to think that I somehow feel superior. Sure, I resisted it at first. Then when I finally broke down and signed up, I told myself that it was in the name of this blog. I mean, hell, it's free promotion. Now I spend most of my time tweeting thoughts like "Have you ever thought about how chum means shark bait AND friend? Coincidence? I think not!" and other pearls of wisdom.

But I swear I'll get back on track. I'm developing an idea (well, actually, consider it developed) about creating another Twitter account. I keep my personal one for my wanton acts of frivolity and the other I shall call (this is where I imagine the fanfare in my head) "the 140 character critic".

The goal of the 140 character critic is to boil the essential qualities of a film down to a tweet. Sure, I won't be able to delve into the complexities of characters or the subtle nuisances that the director brings to the film, but what's that saying? Don't judge a book by its cover? Yeah, I've never been able to fully get behind that so I guess that's what I'll end up doing... except replace the word "book" with "movie"... and "cover" with "tweet". Okay, so they aren't exactly interchangeable, but at their core, it's not hard to see what I'm getting at.

SO basically, what I'm getting at (and as I go over 300 words, I truly congratulate those who stuck it out to read this essay of epic proportions, I know it must've been tough) is these are getting too long for you, keep an eye out. I'd like to think that people can handle the occasional 500 words or so, but if I've learned anything, it's always better to underestimate people. Keep an eye out for "the140charcrit" for updates on what to see and what it's okay to miss.

O Captain My Captain

You know those feel good dramas about inner city school teachers overcoming adversity and teaching their students about the subject and some valuable life lessons? Okay, well, I could take a couple cues from those movies, because right now, I'm all dried up. I mean, not literally (although that seems like a stupid thing to say because how could I be dried up literally? Oh wait, now I get it... gross) but needless to say, inspiration is not an endless stream.

Instead, I'm filled with dread about the direction my life is headed and a little unsure of, well, just about most things. But listen to me go on. I know, it's not just me. Hell, I can think of at least 5 other people my age that are in the same boat as me. I would take comfort in that if it weren't for the fact that it's a bad place to be and it's an even worse place to have company, because I feel just as much for them as I do myself. So here goes, here's my attempt at an inspirational speech...

Who are we kidding? We all knew that wasn't going to go anywhere good. It probably would have included some misquoting of some obscure literary figure that I thought would make me look smart, followed by a confession that I only found out about that author thanks to GoodQuotes. org and then we'd all be just as bummed as when you started reading this.

So for your sake and my fear of carpal tunnel, we'll just skip that part. This isn't where I'm going to tell you that I'm the best in the field or that we're all special. I mean, look at the people that are working from my graduating class? Are they good? The sad thing is that they can be, but they don't have to be. A lot of them got lucky. I know this may be the exact opposite that your mommy taught you, but here's the reality of the situation. Being good is a perk, but not a job requirement. If it were then my graduating magna cum laude would mean something in the real world, but I can't even get Starbucks to call me back.

This isn't a speech to depress you or to bore you or to make you feel bad for me or yourself. This is the God's honest truth. Talent's no longer a requirement that all employers are looking for so don't try to get in on talent alone. I can't say I have any more pearls of wisdom for you, but it's safe to say that I'm sufficiently bummed out now. I think this might have been the reason I never made it as an inspirational speaker...

30 Days of Night Really Feels Like it

Every once in a blue moon, a horror movie comes along that does little to shock or excite their viewer but instead, casts two attractive leads hoping it'll distract audiences long enough to sell their P.O.S. Sorry Josh hartnett, you're not that pretty.

From the beginning, 30 Days of Night lurches along at a near glacial pace as we're forced to deal with the exposition. Early on, there's a little violence thrown in to satisfy, but the key word of that last sentence is "exposition". Anybody know why? Because with exposition you're promised a story or at least some semblance of one, perhaps some character development even? Not with this flick. After being forced to sit through one of the most excruciating set-ups (after all, let's be real, nobody does the whole "I know we're separated, but I still love you" bit like Die Hard) it would help if there was some sort of pay off. I know that the film's "emotional" ending is supposed to show a growth in the lead character, but it's just so sudden after all this time, that it seems out of character and is essentially rendered unimportant.

Then again, when it comes to a lot of these vamp flicks, character isn't really what counts, it's the body count. If that was my only criteria, it'd be fair to say that 30 days of Night delivers in some regard. None of it really makes up for the weak characters, most of which I had no idea had names, but at the end of the day, there's plenty of blood to go around. The issue is that the movie peaks too early. It gives us some of the best gore moments early on and those are the ones that I remember best at least. However, it also has some moments that shine towards the end of the film as well. Several key beheadings are among the things that this movie does pretty well, but like I said, none of this is enough to sustain it.

The real issue at the heart of the movie is the pacing. If I'm supposed to care enough about these people to want them to survive or at least spend a fake 30 day period with them, I should know names or at least not secretly hope for the next person to go. There's too much character development in some areas and not nearly enough for a majority of the movie. Even the violence needs to be paced better. It gave it all away up front which doesn't exactly leave audiences satisfied, but at the same time, it's grisly nature is almost recognized as old hat these days. By the end of 30 days of Night it really does feel like it took that long to make it through the movie, which is never a good thing. It was an interesting premise that was handled poorly in execution with unlikeable characters (or ones that I didn't even know that I was supposed to recognize) and enough to gore to satisfy most horror buffs, but little else.

Independence Day

Today, in honor of July 4th and the principles our forefathers fought and died for, I was considering writing about how far we've strayed from the ideals of justice and freedom. However, it's early and well, in honor of this day, I've decided not to reprimand the majority of Republicans in middle America. Enjoy this get out of jail free card and have a happy and safe holiday. Oh, and if you're really bored, enjoy the fireworks.

Emily Post in the New Millenium

Okay, as we're well into 2010, it may be a little late to call it the new millenium, but "new age" sounds like a "hey, let's all go out and buy some black Windrunners" level of creepy. Anyway, not the point. Something I've noticed more than the lack of jobs for America's youth or our increasingly anti-social behavior and reliance on technology (believe me, I'm a victim of both of these phenomenons) is our attitude. Now I'm not saying this in a disapproving motherly tone nor am I going to pretend like I'm always on my best behavior. This is just a general observation that the attitudes and mannerisms of the youth in America (and by youth, I really mean anyone under the age of 30) leaves something to be desired. So don't think of this as condescending or me looking down my nose at my peers, but think of this as an Emily Post for our gen... although I hesitate to call myself an Emily Post figure... mainly because I'm a dude... and again I digress. ANyway, here it goes, just a simple guide for meets and greets.

1. When meeting someone a handshake is appropriate. I'm not saying you hafta love the person or go in for the hug. In fact, I've had way too many people go in for the hug on the first meet and greet. When faced with this awkward hug, the only thing to do is tighten up with your hands at your side. This should let the hugger know that this level of familiarity within 15 seconds of meeting one another is unwelcome. No, but seriously it seems to be one extreme or the other; either too little respect for boundaries or no respect at all. It's just common courtesy to shake hands and it's not like it's the hardest thing in the world to do. Like they always say, it takes 17 muscles to smile, 43 muscles to frown, and countless muscles to be a dick so just do the damn handshake already.

2. Listen, I know our generation (especially myself) is known for having an inappropriate sense of humor, but maybe wait a little while before you pull out the Helen Keller jokes. Oh yeah, that goes for using terms like "that's so gay" or "quit bein' so retarded". Don't get me wrong, I use these as much as the next guy (oh God, I'm goin' to hell) but it's safe to say that your boyfriend or girlfriend's parents won't find them as funny... at least until you get to know them. I know, I know, you may ask "well, what the hell's wrong with them?" if they don't laugh at this, but I guess some people are just politically correct or some bullshit...

3. A little modesty and respect for your elders is never a bad thing. Listen, I know we all have fun and colorful names for the in-laws or even our own parents. The one thing to remember is... well, they might not find them as funny as you do. For instance, I call my old man "Doc Bob". I mean, sure it works for me, it's an affectionate pet name or whatever. In an introduction, you might do well to show a little humility. You say "Dr. Kersten" or "Mr. Kersten" and once prompted with "Oh, you can call me Bob" you're in the clear. But in general, nicknames are best suited for taking behind one's back. If not, shit can get awkward pretty quick.

You stick to these rules and you're golden. No, but in all seriousness, use some goddamn common sense folks. I've literally gotten a "What a polite young man" because I shook someone's hand and said "It's nice to meet you". These things should be pretty standard. Don't get me wrong, I love the compliments, but if you can't even muster that, well, then you're in a bad way. The basic civilities shouldn't warrant compliments, but evidently folks don't expect much these days or they've been given reason not to... either way, it's too grim to think about it.

Stop with the coming out stories!

What is the obsession with the coming out story? I had to sit through a screening that was just one of the many coming out stories that I've filed away in my mind as never wanting to re-visit. Don't get me wrong, my coming out is no worse than anybody else's. In fact, despite it being pretty damn awkward, I count myself lucky. Still, as a gay man, I've done my time.

I came out, even as I choked on the words as I tried to spit them out. I don't need to see it happen to somebody else on the big screen. There's something that I don't think most people realize about the whole experience. Mind you, I'm not here to glorify the whole thing. After all, I pretty much said "hey mom, I hafta tell you something... I'm gay. I'm gonna go finish mowing the law." There were no hugs and I didn't stick around to see if there were tears. It was simple, but more than that, it was personal. It was my own moment and it was my decision. Everything about it was purely my own, so it's understandable that it'd be personal to me.

Yet every so often, some jackass comes along with yet another coming out story. It'd be different if they were unique, but everyone seems to think that the same thing every damn time that someone comes out. Either they're kicked out of their house or mommy's like "oh sweetie, I'm so glad you told me" or some stupid shit. I understand that the movies are supposed to be an escape from reality in so many ways, but for me, the whole ordeal just isn't something I take lightly.

Adding insult to injury, it always seems like some guy who's married with 2.5 kids is directing these things. There's no authentic voice to these movies because there's no authenticity. Let me try to explain this... it would be like me making a movie about a girl getting her period. It's her passage into womanhood or whatever and she's no longer a girl, but she's a woman. How am I gonna do that? I can't even begin to imagine the female experience. I could give it a shot using lots of research and plenty of female consultants to see if I was doing the experience justice, but it would never really be authentic. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who's like "well, only gay people should play gay people in movies". Sure, I'd like them to stop getting accolades for having to kiss a dude when i do it everyday, but you get what I mean, I'm in no way narrow minded about these things. But still, can straight male directors stop pretending they know my pain or whatever they say to artistically justify it? If you want to give me something authentic, that's fine, but I'm tired of these paint-by-the-numbers coming out stories.

Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Fabulous?

I don't use the term "that's so gay" very often. Okay, well, that's not entirely true... especially for an openly gay man, I probably use it a lot more than I should. But what I mean to say is, I don't say it a lot and really mean it. I tend to steer clear away from gay movies. It's not like I put the "homo" in "homophobic", but think about it, how many good gay movies have you seen? Most of 'em have beautiful men at the expense of acting or are just plain bitter and/or depressing. If I want to see beautiful men, I don't want to sit through 25 minutes of exposition, if you know what I mean. So it was by complete accident that I happened upon this one. Well, not entirely but let me explain.

Those who read me know that I'm a horror fan. For those who know me better, I'm specifically a Freddy fan. I even sat through that cinematic abortion of a reboot for the sake of Elm Street. After watching Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge I was more shocked that they didn't try to reboot the franchise after this one. Freddy's barely in it and the male lead (well, the only lead) is obnoxious and angst-y, not exactly what people want from their heroes.

But while the flaws of the movie are numerous, that's not the point. I seriously doubt that I have seen a gayer movie in my life. I mean, so many horror fans or even academic types discuss how the horror genre is riff with social and sexual mores, but Nightmare on Elm Street 2 takes it to a whole new level. For the first time in my life, I feel like it's safe to say that I saw more male nudity in a horror film than female. I mean, that alone is a rarity.

There's been a lot of debate on the whole thing about whether it was intended or people have just been reading too much into it, but after sitting through all painful 87 minutes? I've heard plenty of people make arguments for why it is a gay movie, but how can you even deny it? I mean, a good portion of the movie takes place in either a gay sex dungeon or a gym locker room? I'm not even exaggerating.

Don't get me wrong, I think it's an interesting idea to have a gay lead in a movie, but can we butch him up a little beforehand? I'm not saying that as a self-loathing thing, I just think that Jesse could have a little more menace as Freddy tries to use his body to break into our world or at least a little more dignity. Let's be real, speculation of the main character's sexuality is the least of this movie's worries. Not enough gore or even enough of a villain is the main issue with this film that's so beyond saving. Don't bother, even for the camp value.