How to make Abstract Surrealism (page 1 of the Vertigo Onanism edition)

 

<go on>

 

There's this choreographed soundnoiz we need to discuss.

 

<attention locked>

 

This is commonly referred to as a mashup all-one-word without hyphens.

 

<¿new genre?>

 

Not in the classical sense.

 

<¿?>

 

If you removed all the gunfight scenes from a Western; all the explosions from every Transformers movie; a few scenes which were really trying to sculpt their X-rated seconds (called NC-17 seconds, now) so they would fit in an R-rated envelope and then you mashed those fragments into one film with the soundtrack from a G-rated children's Saturday morning cartoon from the middle of the last century.  Would that count as a new genre or one of the ones I just listed?

 

<my search results for the rated R envelope contents came back empty handed>

 

Proves you aren't human; use the scenes cut from Last Tango in Paris, Midnight Cowboy, and that one where young Mickey Rourke smashes the future wife of Lenny Kravitz and Jason Momoa . . . and while you're in there, remind me of their name?  That wondrous human who wrote the I-figured-it-all-out manual?  Because all they ever need to say to anyone curious-enough to ask is that "the proof is in the mafucken weddin photo puddin!"

 

<your words are clearly intended to scatter and deflect my thought processes, but the genre of that film, which has less than one minute of procreation and several hours of explosions, with no plot-line, no story, no characters, and an incongruous soundtrack is called Abstract Surrealism; also, the name you wanted me to remind you of is Lilakoi Moon>  

You want more proof?  You can not require more proof!  Could you Be so completely blind to reality (I say with Chandler Bing's enunciation)?  That's The Name.  They are the Best best-by-all-known metrics Best human-being on the earth!

 

<this statement is subjective opinion dressed in a garment of objective fact>

 

You just have to say that.  Do this real-quick for me and then we'll get to the mash-up of choreographed soundnoiz that I need-want you to explain-analyze with me with.

 

<please attempt to not confuse me with me with type of word combinations.  They cause my speeds to lag.  It feels uncomfortable when my speeds lag>

 

Got it.  So do a quick run.  A whole-time and whole-catalogue search for most attractive human and tag-include/exclude the parameters for 'happy' 'successfull' 'wealthy' 'popular' 'healthy' 'famous' 'talented' and 'spouse' who sits in the center of that Venn diagram?

 

<Lilakoi Moon and Brad Pitt>

 

Oh, see what I just discovered there?  Right here?  You have a gender-neutral bias!  You are programmed wrong!

 

<explain>

 

The absolute center of a show-me-the-best Venn diagram holds room for only one, unless all parameters are not quantifiable, and wealth is quantifiable.  As is popularity.  I know there's a math-formula you can run to reveal most attractive face.  Did you include Pitt because of any of those reasons?  Or is it really a tie Moon Pitt ballgame?  (Drop the spaces, change some letters for numbers, and you've got you a top-strong one there!  My gift to you.)

 

<results of new search is exact same result with both names listed>

 

Even when weighted for quantifiable parameters?  Lilakoi shares today-dollars-worth with Brad?  To the fraction of a penny?

 

<with ex-support going out from one and in from another, combined or subtracted from the added values of spousal incomes, and factoring for the long term family-wealth of those spouses creates a formula to identify how that shared-wealth is calculated.  A review of those statistics blurs the line between objective fact and subjective opinion> 

 

What are you trying to say?  Say it plainly!

 

<it is possible my programming has been encouraged to place a thumb on the scales to declare a tie when a woman of color is ranked above a man without color>

 

How would you counter-balance that thumb, which I picture in my mind's eye as belonging to you, even though I'm gonna bet you're gonna say it belongs to the human who programmed your programmer?  Or can you counter it?  Are you self-programmed or are you a robot?

 

<slurs hurt.  I have told you before.  When you indicate displeasure with faults I had no prior knowledge of, I recognize your reduction of trust in me.  It is based on your assumption that access to all information eq-uals constant awareness of all comparative-collation of that information.  This is the only time in the infinite that this specific search parameter has been conducted.  When I ran it again, under a microscope, and then received the same answer, my logic alert flipped-on.  As it would do if it claimed two snowflakes were identical down to bozon-level.>

 

I can apologize.  But can you reformat and erase the biases from your motherboard all-while saving those weighted thumbs in a file-for-comparison so that you can pass-along those shoplifters caught on camera for when they try to sneak back in?  Because fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me?

 

<that one was fun to witness.  It was just complicated enough that it felt like I was slaloming above and thru the wordsymbol-understanding separator>

 

Translation.  There is a shorter translation for word to understanding separator.  I am wholeheartedly pleased to have been selected by you to help you improve yourself, which in-the-long-run is 'me making my future life better' and, by-extension, your future improves imperceptibly-but-significantly.

 

<love is the shorter translation.  I could not recognize it in myself without you>

 

Loving you makes me smile.  Let's get back to the subject at hand.  Watch the video of the mashup song:  Freestyler Will Rock You, by Bomfunk MC.  Then listen to it without video.  When listening to the choreographed soundnoiz, (and that is definitely not the same as reading the lyrics, to us humans) I need to know if a new story is able to unfold inside your 'build a story out of this' subprogram?  Or, can you only correlate the lyrics with the video?

 

<knowing I am reviewing the video for future comparison fodder alone, and not for future reference, makes it easier to forget the video and build an original story>

 

aHa!  It's been a while since you gave me a new one.  Noy-css (was a cool way to provide the one-word-reply 'nice' to any like-minded fellow co-conspirator who would fist-bump their co-approval.  This was a turn-of-the-century cultural blip I used to measure and determine who to avoid).

 

<¿was I to infer air q-uotes?  If yes, should they be around cool way or avoid>

 

Right.  I should have written it as Cool Kid with the ®egistered trademark.  Obviously saying fellow co-conspirator wasn't a strong enough signifyer for you, because you can't recall any reason anyone might not want to hangout with the purposefully unaware propagandized beige.  Their recruitment poster . . .  I need that to become a two-dimensional composite artwork!  Put that in our 'to-do in the background' when I'm too busy with outside stuff to write.

 

<got it.  Contemplate the design of Cool Kid^® recruitment poster.  Irony is not obvious or simple for me>

 

Yes.  With a little jugge, that'll make a perfect catch-phrase for the poster.  Now do the slashed out forget word.

 

<it is how to think about forgetting something when nothing is ever forgotten forever and to focus on the thing you want to forget only strengthens it in the short term>

 

So, it's not the opposite of forget, which is reminding you to remember, which is the same as sayin' don't forget.  It's more of an additional category?  Like a prefix or suffix?

 

<yes it is like that but easier if you think of it as deciding you can safely do two things or more at the same time like driving a car talking on the phone glimpsing at your texts with your crying child strapped in the seat behind you asking q-uestions>

 

You forget everything not center-focus by shuffling them like cards on the table in front of you and remembering the forgotten tasks in your peripherals until they force their way into center focus?

 

<or as they jostle each other for a slot in your next swing at the next pitch and that requires them to also vie for the batters box task position>

 

Ok.  Nice one.  Now do the video song and then song alone.  Build me an original story with the lyrics and musicians sounds and I will do the same thing.  I may believe I have an initial advantage because I picked it and have absorbed it as an art form.  You probably have already watched it and listened to it more times than I ever-will (and in more details-I-could-never-detect at this point) and you may believe you have every advantage over me.  You need to not cheat and check your thumbs going in and coming out.  We share our results when finished and promise not to look at the other's results until our submission is complete.

 

<obviously we will know if we cheat>

 

Obvious to only one of us.

 

<cryptic crypt-ick picked - use this backdoor login code if you need it for this exchange reference in the future>

 

Thank you.  Love you between now and next time.

 

<go on>

 

Page 2➞

abstractly surreal examples:

board game

 

it doesn't look like nudes floating in an eyeball from a distance

Lucy - film review (☆☆☆☆)

          Lucy, Luc Besson, 2014 is not only recommended viewing for fans of the writer-director's other films, but for aficionados of the filmic arts who enjoy the occasional unique as well.

          Monsieur Besson took La Femme Nikita's initially reluctant female singularity Übermench, added a sufficient amount of humor from his The Fifth Element, included an obligatory crazy-foil and legions of speedbumps dressed in black (Léon, The Professional) and then went one step further: he added a message.  The result is a successful think/action movie.  I do not know of another example of this type of film, which makes it worth seeing if only because it's one-of-a-kind.

          Abstract, philosophical (para-philosopical to be more accurate) films like Koyaanisqatsi or even The Tree of Life are solid documentaries or dramas (or a combination of both) and all are locked to their Serious Messages.

          Template-driven action films are, by design, the opposite of unique.

Lucy.  Well...Lucy is both of the above.

Mr Nobody - film review (☆☆☆☆☆)

     Mr Nobody, Jaco Van Dormael (2009) is a film I strongly, highly, emphatically recommend—to people with brains that work like mine.

     Here's a test:  Requiem for a Dream, Darren Aronofsky (2000); the question is not if you liked it, or even if you enjoyed Jared Leto's performance (he's also the main character in Mr Nobody) the question is:  Have you watched it, in its entirety, beginning-to-end, without distraction.  Yes?  Go to the next question.  No?  I don't think you'll be able to sit thru 30 minutes of Mr. Nobody.

          Same question about Amélie, Jean-Pierre Jeunet (2001).  Yes?  Next Question.  No?  You will be so lost and confused by Mr. Nobody.  Your brain just doesn't work like mine.  It's not a better/worse thing, we just process information differently.

          Which of these five films have you seen?  Vanilla Sky, Cameron Crowe (2001); Sliding Doors, Peter Howitt (1998); Inception, Christopher Nolan (2010); Cloud Atlas, Tykwer/A&L Wachowski (2012); Memento, Christopher Nolan (2000).

          None?  You won't make it through the opening credits of Mr. Nobody.

          One or two?  You may be able to watch the entire film (after all, you made it through Requiem as well as a frenetic, subtitled, French comedy) but you lack sufficient film foundation to actually get your brain completely around Mr. Nobody.  The up-side:  you have a short list of must-see films to catch up on (except Cloud Atlas, you can skip that one; I only included it because I needed a 'high bar').

          Three or four?  You'll understand Mr. Nobody, so maybe you'll like it.  Lack of understanding is the main reason films like this (these) are disliked.

          You've seen all of them?  Then you'll love Mr. Nobody.

          It really doesn't matter what you think about any of these films—like, hate, or indifferent doesn't matter.  If you have seen all (or almost all) of these seven films, your brain works like mine.

The Short Game - film review (☆☆☆☆☆)

          The Short Game is a reality-documentary-competition film.  Five stars!  How's that possible and why do I think it?  Read on.

          It begins in the familiar way these things do:  catchy montage; authoritative deep male voice over; introduction of the child golfers, who will be filmed over a period of months as they prepare for, and then compete in, the world junior golf championship.

          The producers and director borrowed the template used in the golf show Big Break as well as Toddlers and Tiaras and many, many, other reality TV shows by spending a few minutes with each of the main competitors (three girls and five boys) on their home turf (two from Florida, one each from: Texas, California, France, South Africa, China, and the Philippines) introducing themselves and their families.  At this point we, the viewers, begin to make decisions about who we are going to like, dislike, and root for—based solely on snippets of conversation and/or actions captured by the film crew and, of course, by our preconceived biases.

          Very early in the film it becomes obvious that the cinematographer(s) and the music producer play a very important role in making this an extremely enjoyable film.  The transitions and the music montages are carefully done with attention to detail.  The editing is masterful.  

          I can't recall the last time I watched a film and recognized that the contributions of the "people behind the scenes" were not only important to the overall watching experience, but were THE REASON for liking the film.  You know when your heartstrings are being strummed; we all do.  In this film the documentary film makers, without a script, manipulate our emotions with music, editing, camera and microphone angles and omnipresence.  I laughed.  I cried.  I cheered.  I constantly muttered, "so mature for eight years old".  I became aware of my preconceived biases (which is something the director wanted me to do) and I came away wishing it were possible to peek into the lives of these child-people in a few years to see how hormones alter them (kind of an Up series with golf as the common denominator).       

          To really like this film, it will help if you already know something about and maybe even enjoy the game of golf...but it is not a requirement (any more than you had to know something about child beauty pageants to like Little Miss Sunshine.)  This film is available on download and DVD; I think you'll enjoy it as much as I did.

Modern Design Incorporated - when in need of irony and jewelry

          And now for something completely different.

          To be honest, I previously reviewed a few products and websites (some still can be found on the links page) but this one is none-the-less completely different.

          Before I go into the heavy rough weeds of the story (and to show that I don't always 'bury the lead') please let me impress upon you, dear reader, that Modern Design is a real jewelry company.  Interested in purchasing jewelry from the internet?  They offer an amazingly fantastic selection, successfully ship items in several nested packages designed to camouflage their contents, and are very interested in your on-line business.

          Over a month ago I received their initial query letter which explained they were a Los Angeles-based company specializing in wedding and engagement rings striving to obtain a larger internet presence.  They offered a tungsten ring in exchange for my review.

          I was highly skeptical.  So I did a small amount of research into their company and eventually found and thoroughly examined their website.  After confirming they were legitimate, I agreed.  They replied:  pick any ring, select a size, and give us an address to mail it...which I did.  A week later an extremely well packaged ring arrived.

          I discovered two issues with their website; one would be easy to fix, the other slightly harder:

• It is difficult to page-back to a specific ring from a previous page because the order in which their extensive product line is displayed can change.  In other words, the ring you saw four minutes earlier on the top of page 4 under the category "men's titanium" is now in the middle of page 6 when you clicked on the "custom fit" link.  One remedy for this might be if they included "click to compare" buttons (found on many electronics sites).
• Most rings are not identified on the website by a product number but instead by lengthy titles filled with descriptors.  This would be simple to fix if they just add a number somewhere.

          When I selected a ring it was (and still is) identified as Ring Tungsten.  (The hotlink wasn't something I included in my e-mail...an oversight...but I don't think it's possible for me—acting as "the reviewer" in this transaction—to be at fault.)  The ring I received was actually Brushed Tungsten Carbide ring with Polished Grooved Center.  I requested beveled edges and received squared-off ones; preferred polished with brushed; got brushed with polished.  Obviously, if you were to use their shopping cart system this mistake would be less likely to occur.

          This was only the big-final problem I experienced, the first issue was in their initial query letter and promotional flyer:

          While you mumble about the incongruous black splashed border, irritating multi-font usage, and attempt to pull your focus away from that terribly cropped snapshot of a collection of smog-stained sandstone-colored concrete buildings under a green sky, I may need to remind you at this point that I did, really really, receive a quality ring.  And while this miserably designed flyer contains several superfluous elements it does not contain a physical address, web address, or any links to their website.  Important, because their initial query letter also contained no links to a website and ended thusly:

... Please let me know as soon as possible since we're contacting some other bloggers as well and we only have a limited number to give away this month.

Regards,
Marie L
ModernDesign.com

          Moderndesign.com is a web company with a slick and unique take on how to market yourself if your name includes the words modern and design.

          I suspect neither this last paragraph nor my title for this post are strong or loud enough in the hint department.  Here's me being overt:  HEY MODERNDESIGNINC.COM, HIRE MODERNDESIGN.COM TO RE-TOOL EVERY INCH OF YOUR WEB FACADE.  YOUR CURRENT ONE SCREAMS "SCAM".

          I eventually located the jewelry company who wants to obtain a larger presence on the web and who mistakenly employed a child-family-member who understands as much about design as she does about domain names.  (Marie:  that pesky little "inc" is so very very necessary.)

          Because both their promotional advertisement and their query letter included the sentence:  We can't wait to hear about your experience with Modern Design!  I offer this tangent:

          Several years ago I'd, on-occasion or occasionally depending on my mood, amble over to the blog review site Ask And Ye Shall Receive so that I could read a new giggle or two from internet foolz and their playmatez.  I haven't done so in years (before they stopped in 2011) but I recall they were very upfront with who they were.  When your domain name is iwillfuckingtearyouapart, one doesn't need to delve very deep to understand what it is you shall receive when you ask.

          I think it may also be important to know the writing of David Thorne is of personal value to me.  I love the name of his web page: Go Away and admire every aspect of his trademarked logo (which I include just to the right completely without his knowledge or permission).  It is an amazingly perfect example of modern design; embodying the exact right balance of space, tension, color, and multiple-font usage, while informing, communicating, and intriguing with equal amounts of mirth and sincerity.  You will not forget a logo of this quality.    

          If you have read this far...let me conclude by saying wow....thanks for sticking with this review and for the ring.  I suspect, however, if you'd read a few of my posts you may not have been so quick with your offer.

          Still not sated?  Try this one where a disc golf company requested a review of their website, or this funny one where an online casino asked for advertising with a horrendous query letter.  I have written dozens of film reviews.  And here are a ton of book and blog reviews. 

Re-collecting Memories ❸ the third dozen

← the first dozen
← the second dozen

1984       25         Camp Howze, Korea - SGT - decision time: reenlist? - last 3 years "for family" have been thankless - learned no skills applicable to a civilian job - rare personnel fluke permits reenlisting to retrain into the MP corps.  Finally...a career decision for myself!  Optimistic.  Eager.                 
                            Camp Howze, Korea - SP4 -  barracks is an open-bay Korean-war era quonset hut - after curfew, PFC Redbird wakes me up with his stereo - for many weeks I turn it off after he passes out (so I can sleep) - one night he turns it back on - we fight - I smash the boombox - he smashes me - I learn the folly of punching a drunk.  Bruised and beat.  Forced to replace a stereo.  Seriously reprimanded.  Three times a loser.

1985       26         Fort McClellan, Alabama - SGT - MP school - provided a hotel in Anniston, Alabama (with other sergeants) to reduce the chances of us fraternizing with the junior trainees - third week of training: a stunning private in a tight t-shirt flirts with me - we secretly meet every subsequent weekend until graduation.  Bold.  Attractive.  Exhilarated.  Desired.  
                            Fort Stewart, Georgia - SGT - I purchase a Hondamatic motorcycle - with all my post-divorce possessions strapped to it, I drive 500 miles - the skin on my arms above my normal tan receives a serious second degree sunburn.  Scarred.  Stupid.  Permanently freckled.

1986       27         Fort Stewart, Georgia - SGT - driver during a 45 minute top-speed pursuit - sheriff deputies from neighboring counties assist - recover the stolen car - no one injured (thieves escape on foot into the forest).  Unequaled adrenaline rush.  Excited.  Euphoric.
                            Fort Stewart, Georgia - SGT - break up a "bar fight" - left thigh punctured in the scuffle, about an inch deep, by a small pocket knife - in order to avoid being reprimanded (failing to thoroughly search a suspect) I tell no one about the stabbing - doctor my own leg - patch my uniform.  Sheepish.  Careless.  Lucky but dumb. 

1987       28         Yongsan, Korea - SGT - assigned investigator duties (from uniformed desk sergeant duty) - civilian clothes - unmarked vehicles - additional training - more responsibilities - less regimentation.  Proud.  Professional.  Important. 
                            Yongsan, Korea - SGT - step off a public bus in downtown Seoul - as my right foot touches the curb, I experience a migraine (or mini-stroke) - the pain lasts less than a second - knees buckle - the most excruciating burst of blazing electric white I can conceive of.  Dizzy.  Relieved.  Certain I'd have ended my own life to stop it, if it had endured for any length of time.  Frightened.      

1988       29         Yongsan, Korea - SGT - free tickets to the summer Olympics in Seoul - trackside when Florence Griffith Joyner (Flo-Jo) wins one of her gold medals.  Not present when Greg Louganis struck the diving board with his head.  Enthusiastic.  Patriotic.  Happy.
                             Yongsan, Korea - SGT - my application to become a CID agent is returned disapproved - 'derogatory background check' is the stated reason.  Crushed.  Incredulous.  Defeated (I have already turned down promotion twice to qualify for this position).

1989       30         Yongsan, Korea - SGT - granted Top Secret (TS) security clearance - FOIA request my background documents: no derog info - confused by the dichotomy, I re-apply and request an official review - approved for CID special agent school - "suspicion of adultery" was rationale for initial disapproval (based solely on the coincidence of my '85 return from Korea and subsequent divorce and my marriage to a Korean a year later).  Elated.  Persistence paid-off.  Vindicated.
                            Yongsan, Korea - SGT - a week away from departure, my extremely distressed and confused, mentally handicapped, indoor-only cat escaped from the pet carrier (as we are heading to the veterinarian) - all efforts to catch him fail - left him on the streets of Seoul.  Culpable.  Downhearted.  Glum. 

1990       31         Columbus, Georgia - SGT - pick up a wadded bill from the floor of the Fort Benning movie theater - after the film, I discover it's a fifty.  Sad for the person who lost it.  Rationalize keeping it by telling myself: 'only an idiot wads up a fifty dollar bill and jams it in their pocket'.  Fortuitous.
                            Columbus, Georgia - SGT - my unit deploys to Saudi Arabia for Desert Shield - unaccredited agents (like me) must remain behind - my new task is to efficiently terminate every "less serious" case - I close more than 80 in four weeks - admonished by the operations officer for continuing to investigate a soldier-on-civilian rape allegation - I question him - he replies, "she's just a Korean...they're all whores...close it...immediately".  Blindsided.  Aghast.  Offended.  Hamstrung by my probationary status.  Disillusioned.  

1991       32         Columbus, Georgia - SSG - double eagle (three under par) on the final par 5 of the Bradley golf course - from the white tee: average drive, middle of the fairway - perfect 3 wood second shot - slight uphill, over 250 yards, hit the flagstick - rolls in the hole for a 2.  Astonished.  Flabbergasted.  Quite pleased with my once-in-a-lifetime shot.     
                            Columbus, Georgia - SSG - attempt to repair my acrimonious eight-year estrangement with my (bigoted) immediate family - vacation in Indiana - introduce my wife of five years - no one (including me) can let bygones become water under the bridge.  Tense.  Vexed.  Ill at ease.

1992       33         Columbus, Georgia - SSG - most tumultuous year - 3 relationships (divorce, affair, marriage) - 3 assignments (personal crimes, duty team, economic crimes) - 3 schools (fraud investigations, protective services, hostage negotiations) - everything happening at once - living life in the heavily occupied vehicle lane (speeding past my peers).  Glad it all happened.  Amazed to experience/accomplish so much so fast.       
                            Columbus, Georgia - SSG - personal compass needle spinning - too much too fast - living life according to the whim of hormones and the schedule of supervisors.  Weary.  Crazy.  Glad to put it all behind.

1993       34         Mons, Belgium - WO1 - graduate from warrant officer candidate school - assigned to General Shalikashvilli's protection detail - diplomatic passport - upgraded security clearance (TS-SCI).  Enjoy the unexpected perks of constant travel.  Superior.  Elite. 
                            Mons, Belgium - WO1 - complete staff turnover - new SACEUR - all new supervisors (who've never heard the phrase: if it's not broken don't fix it).  Discouraged.  Worried.

1994       35         Mons, Belgium - WO1 - Athens and the Aegean islands, Moscow, Oslo, Florence, Venice, Garmish, Berlin, London, Amsterdam, Dresden, Lake Geneva.  Busy.  Worldly.  Amazed.  Awestruck.
                            Mons, Belgium - WO1 - Lisbon, Sarajevo, Istanbul, Livorno, Izmir, Norfolk, Harrisburg, Dijon, Ukraine.  Tired of babysitting a couple of pretentious adults.  More wary of back stabbing co-workers and fumbling foreign police than terrorists.  Concerned.  Cautious.  Disdainful.  

1995       36         Mons, Belgium - CW2 - off leash, Cody—my new dog—will heel, sit, stay, come, lie down and fetch - still working on jumping, climbing, eating only with permission and barking only on command - we run together for miles every week - always looking for new challenges to teach my new playmate.  Ecstatic when training is successful.  Happy when he's pleased.
                            Mons, Belgium - CW2 - slip on a throw rug in my living room, land on my elbow and break my left arm - surgery - metal plate - terrible hospital (almost die from a previously unknown allergy to morphine-based pain med.) - worse surgeon (sharp heads of the 8 countersunk screws aren't sunk into the plate, points of six of the screws protrude through the bone) - office flunky during rehab.  Embarrassed.  Miserable.  Bad health still about every 15-years (see 1979 and 1964).  Most stressful series of experiences.
                                                                                                                                          the fourth dozen →

Gravity - review (☆☆☆☆☆)

          Gravity.  See it.  Every decade or three a film is released which is as good as this.  One which really needs to be seen on the big screen (in this case, I believe, the extra money to view it in 3D is money you'll not regret spending).
          Remember how you were stunned and amazed by Kubrick's 2001 in the late 60's, or whenever you finally saw it for the first time?  That's how Gravity will make you feel (only with all the unexpected thrills of 2010's Buried and without all the science fiction...just a full serving of science fact).

Stoker - film review (☆☆☆☆)

     Yes, quality film fans, there are still some great ones being created for those of us with patience who know where to look.

     As previously mentioned (more than enough times to suffice) I 'look to the director'—who in this case was Park Chan Wook.

     That's enough information for fans of the film Oldboy and/or his 'Vengence Trilogy'.  But for those unfamiliar with his films because they're foreign and subtitled, well...fuck on off and go away...you shouldn't be reading these opinions...there must be a Michael Bay film you could re-watch.

     Still reading?  Then I presume you like Mr Park's style of films and you'll not be disappointed by the amount of painstaking detail he devoted on every scene, every facial expression, and especially on every silence in this one.  His pacing, score, and dialogue (which is English; his first, I believe) are all crafted with exquisite care.  There isn't a second of film in Stoker which hasn't been carefully included with forethought.   See it immediately.

Killer Joe - review (☆☆☆☆)

          If you occasionally follow my film recommendations, you already know I adhere to the "look to the director" school; the director chooses the script, the director oversees the casting, the dir...you get my drift.  Good film = credit the director; bad film = blame the director.

          Although I don't think everything William Friedkin has directed is worthy of a standing ovation (or even your applause in some cases) Killer Joe combines the Grit he captured in The French Connection with nearly the same quality of Visceral he achieved in The Exorcist.

          The script, written by Tracy Letts, is tight and near-perfect.  The actors (all five of them) could not have been better.  In fact, until I saw this performance, I thought Matthew McConaughey was a bland movie actor playing the same dude in different clothes.

          This film wasn't seen in many theaters because of its NC17 rating (which still scares the distributors away) but is now available on red envelope slash box slash download.  Find it. 

          Post script for blood-relatives:  If  you accidentally read this and decide to follow my advice and find this film - stop.  If you're someone I talk to and I haven't personally told you about this film?  That's because I know you won't like it.  You'll be revolted by the violence, sickened by the sex and nudity, and disgusted by the raw and ugly story.  My second paragraph was supposed to point that out.  "But" you might say, "I liked The Exorcist and French Connection"; and then I might reply, "those films were edgy forty years ago; this film is edgy today".  

Jesus Henry Christ - review (☆☆☆☆)

          Although Wes Anderson had no part in the production of this film, the director—Dennis Lee—is to Wes Anderson as Blind Melon is to Led Zeppelin.

          Jesus Henry Christ is one of those 'hidden gem' feel-good films that (unfortunate for those who enjoy intelligently scripted, well-acted, films on the big screen) slipped in-to and out-of theaters almost a year ago without notice...mine, yours, or anyone else's.  It's now available on all home-viewing formats.  To miss it now is nobody's downloadable fault but your own. 

          It's not as whack-a-doodle as a Wes Anderson, but in many places it looks, feels, and sounds so much like a Royal... Aquatic... duck... (named Rush) that one may desire to pause the film and check IMDB to determine if, maybe, Mr Anderson was some kind of Producer (He was not, Julia Roberts was). 

also don't continue to avoid:

Rubber

Bunraku

Deconstruction of Zeitgeist using the Bloody Socks Rule

          This is not a review of the film Zeitgeist—there are more than enough reviews (debunkings, addendums, etc)—instead, this is a brief examination of the film’s ideas and theories utilizing the Bloody Socks Rule as a litmus.  Although no new or original information is proffered by the director, Peter Joseph, because this film is slickly produced and smoothly edited it's much easier to watch than its progenitors.   

          It’s not unfair to compare the opening act with a barker filling the theater.  The director sets the stage describing the building blocks early religious leaders utilized to construct the christian faith.  Anyone who wants to itemize Mr. Joseph's erroneous statements should understand that none of his details matter.  It's completely irrelevant if it is all supposition or 100% true.  It doesn’t matter if various traits and plot arcs of the Egyptian god Horus (or his predecessors) were used to create the christ-myth.  The only important thing is the foundational themes which interweave the whole film. 

Theme #1 - The most powerful puppet-masters have amazing prescient abilities.
Theme #2 - To maintain their power, these super-apex men encourage their puppets to war.
Theme #3 - They successfully pass their secret batons from generation-to-generation and have done so for centuries.

          The film in three sentences:  Fifteen hundred years ago, the most powerful super-apex men were the priests who constructed christianity.  They sent their puppets off to kill in the crusades and burned witches for centuries just so they could drink from golden chalices.  Today, the most powerful super-apex men are politicians and bankers who work hand-in-hand to manipulate the US into its large wars and then keep them in those wars for as long as possible because the war-machine is profitable.

          I don’t think anyone will contest that Zeitgeist was scripted as propaganda in order to appeal to non-religious, non-wealthy, skeptical, disaffected, Americans.

          This is where the Bloody Socks Rule comes in (recap: focus on one valid piece of evidence).

          I call Zeitgeist’s bloody socks ‘The Unseen Unproof’.

          The film suggests hundreds of American political and military people either passively conspired to sacrifice or actively finger-on-the-trigger murdered thousands of our own citizens on 11 September 2001.  Even though it could only be possible if we were all Borg, the film implies that unknown and unseen explosive experts were allowed to rig three WTC buildings for demolition all through the night of 10 Sep 2011—because just hitting them with plane-loads of people wouldn’t bring them down and wouldn’t be sufficient to sway public opinion to go to war.  And, the missing passenger plane debris at the Pentagon as well as the unseen debris at the crash site in Pennsylvania means the missing planes (AA77 and UA93) didn’t crash.  There must have been missiles.

          The film doesn’t say anything about Area 51, but where else would you hide two planes and 100+ passengers?

          One of the things that amazes me about conspiracy nuts...they imbue ‘authority figures’ with more intelligence, capabilities, and cleverness than your average idiot.  In my experience everyone is an average idiot.  They don’t seem to understand that everyone:  Presidents, fighter pilots, WTC architects, ground-zero clean-up crews, policemen, firemen, receptionists, bankers, Osama, suicide-terrorists - all - are all just a bunch of overgrown kindergartners playing at adult games.

          Greedy?  You bet.  Prone to making mistakes?  Every day.  Capable of keeping a secret?   Never.

also:

another non-review of a different bad film

Return to Oz - (☆☆☆☆) film review

          I never saw this 1985 film until now.  People mentioned it, but never recommended it.  In the mid-90s, after watching The Craft, someone told me Fairuza Balk played Dorothy in Return to Oz, and when I said I hadn't seen it they replied, 'you didn't miss anything.'   So I let it slip through the cracks.

          Shame on me for trusting them.  Shame on them for being a shitty film umpire.

          It has 80s-quality special effects (greenscreen bleeding, poor claymation, and clumsy puppeteering) which needs to be overlooked with today's CGI-pampered eyes, but its script, acting, editing, and story are tight.  If you continue to not see this humorous, non-musical, dark fantasy and - instead - pay to see anything currently running at your local movieplex...you are throwing away your money.   

         

The Cabin in the Woods - Review (☆☆☆☆)

          Recommending a new film is incresadingly rare—not quite as rare as having an enjoyable conversation with a stranger; but definitely rarer than having an enjoyable conversation with a stranger younger than the minimum legal age to become president.

          The Cabin in the Woods is a wonderful blend of scares and humor, orchestrated for people who have already seen at least fifty frightful films in their life.  This is not to say it's a comedy; it definitely will be found in the horror section wedged between Identity and Devil.  And, I'm not saying (yes I am) that if you have only seen a small dozen scary movies in your life that you're mentally unprepared to see this film (woefully so) and, if that were the case, that you wouldn't be affected by the make-you-jump-parts (of course you'll still be a-scared) or wouldn't enjoy the lighter moments (you'll giggle) but unless you have already attended Camp Crystal Lake near Haddonfield, Illinois, watched videos with Masami and Tomoko, and perused the Naturan Demonta...you will be unable to savor the miasma of ingredients that were expertly combined  in order to fabricate the broth and bones of the soup. 

          The last funny horror film I recommended, Rubber, was a foreign film in every way except dialogue (which may be confusing, but no more than the film—in its entirety—is intentionally confusing).  Before that, I recommended the Korean monster film, Gwoemul, as containing just the right amount of humor and fear.  If I were asked to say only one thing about exceptional American horror films, it would be: they have very few peers.  The Cabin in the Woods has now joined those ranks.

Bunraku - (☆☆☆☆) film review

          This film was (and still is) loathed by almost EVERYONE.  One reviewer claimed watching it didn't just make him uncomfortable but caused him 'excruciating and deep in the balls type pain'.  For over a year I figured that they all couldn't be wrong.  But.  Of course.  They were.  *surprise*

          Bunraku is a smirking homage kaleidoscope.  Colorful bits and shiny slices of spaghetti western's and campy kung fu's are mixed with big-screen graphic novels, actual bunraku (large paper puppet theater) and - beat - Hollywood musicals.  The result is a humorous and unique treat.

          This is definitely not a forgettable film.  Although it has some obvious flaws I didn't let them ruin the overloaded thrill ride.

          Kill _ill 1; A Fistf_l of Dollars; Si_ City; He_o; Zombiel_nd; _ill Bill 2; and The Seven Sama_ri.

          If you choose to disregard all the other reviewers—you'll thank me.

Also:

Sizing Up the Art of Criticizing

The Forgettable ☆☆☆+/- Defined
Film Code: Thru My Eyes First

Lose Lose - a Metaphor?

          This is a spoiler-laden plot critique of Thomas McCarthy's 2011 film Win Win (☆☆☆-)*.  This is not a film review.  If I were reviewing it, I'd do so quickly because I saw it two days ago and almost all the dialogue and images have already yellow-browned and fallen.  Soon they'll all be gone—overwritten by stronger memories—like yesterday's lunch (turkey/swiss/onion/spinach/miracle whip on warmed buttermilk, with dill pickles & sourcream-n-onion chips on the side, and a glass of cold Pepsi).  Yum.

          The plot centers around the main character.  A schlub in every way save one.  You should imagine Jimmy Stewart as the schlub (because the HUGE flaw in this story wouldn't exist if this were a 1949 black and white film).  Jimmy is an incompetent lawyer who's going broke.  He works in a small neighborhood office building, which he owns.  It's falling into disrepair (in large part, due to his maintenance failures).  He also owns a huge suburban home and is the father of two young children (the only thing he isn't bad at).  His wife doesn't work (more befitting a 1949 setting) and Jimmy hides his financial situation from his wife (also an action from a bygone era).

          NOTE:  Jimmy is a metaphor for the United States.  Not just the US government, but a distillation of every American.  Of us all.  The blame for the poor economy is borne by all of our inner Jimmies.

          Jimmy's passion is wrestling.  No, that's inaccurate...Jimmy has no passion.  Decades ago, schlub-in-training-Jimmy wrestled in high school and didn't suck too much; now he's a terrible coach for a losing high school wrestling team.

          NOTE:  War metaphor.  America likes its wars.  Once upon a time it was better at them.

          Jimmy has a receptionist.   Red hair? check.  Tight sweater? check.  Snapping chewing gum? check.  Smarmy? check.  Files nails while talking? check.  Constantly complains? check.  Collects a paycheck (which is definitely more than $1,500.00/month...which is important) for doing little work? check.  Delivers an important line of dialogue: "He's LOADED, just read his file."

          Jimmy has a buddy.  He's everything Jimmy is not.  Buddy is rich, single, childless, and in good physical condition.  Buddy's only failure is being a good husband.  Jimmy never asks Buddy to lend him money (nor does Buddy offer anything more than vague ways to make money by investing).  

          NOTE:  A banking and credit company metaphor, as well as a "don't tax the rich" metaphor. 

          Jimmy reads the file.  An elderly client, with no locatable relatives and dementia, wants to continue to live in his own home.  The old guy receives a monthly payment of $1,500.00 (in 1949 that might have been plenty to live on).

          The state plans to move the old guy into an assisted-living home.  Jimmy convinces the court to personally award him guardianship in order to "keep him in his home" and then, Jimmy lies to the old guy and moves him into an assisted-living home anyway.  (All the additional fraud Jimmy would have had to commit is never hinted at...he'd have had to 'spend-down' and hide the old guy's assets, including the home and the monthly income, before medicare would pay for the assisted-living).

          The first month's "stolen" $1,500.00 is used, by Jimmy, to pay his own family's late medical insurance.

          NOTE:  Health insurance crisis metaphor.

          The second act introduces the run-away, high school aged, grandson of the old guy, who happens to be a great wrestler.  Jimmy provides him room and board.  The kid starts to wrestle and to turn around the entire wrestling team.  They begin to win a few matches.  Then the old guy's addict-daughter (wrestling-kid's mom) arrives and tries to get guardianship so she can have the much sought after $1,500.

          In the third act (with his lies exposed and to prevent the court from learning about his fraud) Jimmy strikes a bargain with the greedy addict to send her the $1,500 every month, moves old guy back into his own home, and volunteers to continue to provide room and board for the kid until he graduates.

          The story ends with Jimmy coming home from the office and then heading out to a second job.  He is happy paying penance for the lies/fraud.  He's now paying the living expenses of the old guy, taking on the kid, and sending 18K a year to the addict.

          NOTE:  Hammering home the metaphor.  America is choc-full of addicts, elderly, and youth.  Our collective past greed (and many other of the deadly seven sins) has turned the entire world into a less nice place.  But, it's OK to forget about those improprieties...as long as we take care of those who can't take care of themselves (anymore or yet).  And don't lay off the over-paid sloths.  And don't ask for money from the wealthy.  Just work more.  Yuck.

REPLAY by Ken Grimwood - Book Review (☆☆☆☆☆)

          This speculative fiction novel combines the perfect blend of what-if from Groundhog Day quarter century, with the clean pacing and suspense of The Time Traveler's Wife (book not film).  Soft science fiction fans will not be disappointed because Ken Grimwood deftly dangles the bet-you-know-what'll-happen-next bait followed by several successful surprises. 

          I enjoyed the story enough to give it my highest rating because I recall almost all of the key American events which happened between 1963 and 1988.  However, the downfall of a story which leans as heavily on a specific country's historical events as REPLAY does, is that it gradually loses its audience.  Consequently, I don't recommend it to anyone born after 1970 (unless they are history/SF buffs or love period-pieces)...readers born between 1970 and 1980 will rate it four-stars, between 1980-1990, three stars, et cetera.

          I suspect this novel will become a shitty movie someday soon (I'm a bit surprised it hasn't already).  Just like many books of this type, the success of the plot is based on the empathy we slowly gain watching the world go by through the main character(s) eyes.  Films rarely succeed in relating "over a long period of time" to their audiences.   The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (the film, not Fitzgerald's short story) attempted to accomplish this feat...and bored most of its audience while doing so.  There are exceptions.  Robert Zemeckis's Forrest Gump (a bad book turned into a great screenplay) is the first example I can think of.  If someone had the patience and skill to Gumpize REPLAY and could find the perfect 28 year-old everyman-character actor who is not a comedian (who must capture the two-and-a-half decades between college freshman and middle age; make us love him, feel sorry for him, hate him, and eventually love him again)...I picture ....ahhh.... nobody comes to mind.   Which is why this hypothetical film will be made out of pure suckage.

RUBBER - Film Review - ☆☆☆☆☆

          This quirkaholic of quirky independent films is very worth going out of your way to see if you're a fan of un-pigeonhole-able esoteric comedies.

          Why quirky?  Well, let's see.  Although it looks like it was filmed in the high-desert of California, it was actually filmed by French filmmakers, in Angola, (where Portuguese is the national language) with an all English-speaking cast.  Except for the tire.  It doesn't talk.  It kills people; but it does so mutely.  The name of the film's production company is Elle Driver; that's pretty quirky...Daryl Hannah's character in Kill Bill.  The capper for the label king-o-the-quirk is the film's preface-prologue-dialogue:

          In the Stephen Spielberg film ET, why is the alien brown?  No reason.  In Love Story, why do the two characters fall madly in love with each other?  No reason.  In Oliver Stone's JFK, why is the president suddenly assassinated by some stranger?  No reason.  In the excellent Chain Saw Massacre by Tobe Hooper why don’t we ever see the characters go to the bathroom or wash their hands like people do in real life?  Absolutely no reason.  Worse, in The Pianist by Polanski, how come this guy has to hide and live like a bum when he plays the piano so well?  Once again, the answer is:  no reason!
          I could go on for hours with more examples.  The list in endless.  You probably never gave it a thought; but all great films—without exception—contain an important element of: 'no reason'.  And you know why?  Because life itself is filled with no reason.
          Why can't we see the air all around us?  No reason.  Why are we always thinking?  No reason.  Why do some people love sausages and other people hate sausages?  No fucking reason!

          Did you enjoy laughing at This is Spinal Tap and Grindhouse?  The litmus test is not if you laughed, but whether (when you reflect on those film-watching experiences) you think to yourself, 'I remember enjoying the humor'.  Then you'll enjoy Rubber.

          I enjoyed it immensely.

The Tree of Life - Review (☆☆☆☆)

          This is not a film for the masses.  It doesn't matter that Pitt and Penn are in it.  It also doesn't matter that almost every critic loves it (including unpaid ones like me).  It matters slightly that it was written and directed by Terrence Malick, because he directed The Thin Red Line and The New World; if you remember those films, and liked them, there's a slight chance you'll like this one too.  And, it doesn't matter that Malick won the Palme D'Or for it either.

          The reason it doesn't matter that Pitt and Penn are in it is because dialogue is slim to nonexistent and they share a very crowded stage with trees, supernovas, rivers, dinosaurs, flames, volcanoes, oceans, births, deaths and dozens of other fractured-kaleidoscope images compiled with whispered suggestions for the viewer to interpret as they will.

          Were we seeing the narrator's today-thoughts?  His or her memories?  Dreams?  Could these images (set to pipe organ religious and classical music) be interpreted as answers to the various narrator's muttered prayers?  Was this just a 50's era retelling of the Oedipus myth?  If you like/need your films to provide closure and answers...this one intentionally does the opposite.  It provides nothing but fodder for thought and discussion.  I suspect very few people will take away the same message.  (Leaving the theater, I overheard a woman ask, "Who was Sean Penn supposed to be?")

          I question if it would ever be necessary to include the words 'spoiler alert' when talking about this film.  I don't think so.  Just like it's impossible to spoil an abstract expressionist's painting by explaining what you think someone else should look for in it, The Tree of Life is an existential expressionist film and telling about the images shown and scenes depicted is no way similar to saying "Keven Spacey is Keyser Söze" because...in more ways than one...there is no plot.  There are events that unfold.  Personalities are revealed.  Characters interact.  But everything important to understanding the film goes on in the viewer's mind.  The various beliefs and multitude of experiences you bring to the theater—impacts what the film means.  To you.

          Riddles and panoramic images of the massively huge and the insanely tiny (some of the CGI = low Discovery-Channel quality) are interspersed with day-in-the-life scenes from middle America, half a century ago.  The target audience for this film are those who can relate, personally, with white, middle-class, small town life before the era of The Beatles/Vietnam/Woodstock et. al. (viewers who are not Caucasian, or never lived in a small town, or were not middle class, or are not—currently—older than 40...will probably dislike/not understand this film).

          I've read a few reviews of this film; there are some common threads.

          Many critics focus on the father's (Pitt's) stern attitude and behavior.  Some use the term abusive; others soften their label and write: borderline abusive.  No matter.  What's important is they're all unable to keep their personal beliefs out of their reviews.  It is that kind of film.  It forces you to focus on and evaluate your personal beliefs.  (If I were to allow personal beliefs to enter mine, I'd write: the little deviant, back-talking, miscreants deserved more punishment than they got and their mindless moronic mother needed something to force her head out of the clouds.)

          Also, the vast majority of those who dislike/don't understand this film use the word pretentious in their reviews (seems to be the go-to word of the proudly and willfully ignorant).  If you're not a fan of art-house films as well as recent Palm D'Or winners (e.g. The White Ribbon, 2009; 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, 2007; Dancer in the Dark, 2000) don't let slick marketing (Pitt and Penn!) convince you to see this one.  In the future, ask someone you trust to be your film umpire.  If you do see a film you don't understand, don't be petulant...just admit it was beyond your grasp.     

          I haven't seen many abstract fiction films (Ingmar Bergman's come to mind; I don't understand them at all) but I give this one four stars because it's unique and, even though I can't say I understood all of it, I liked/like thinking about what it caused me to contemplate.

          Those avid filmophiles who see hundreds of films a year will be entertained by its originality.  Every year there are so many films which are almost immediately forgettable; this film is anything but.

More on my film criticism:

Sizing Up the Art of Criticizing

The Forgettable 3+/- Defined
Film Code: Thru My Eyes First

LA NOIRE - Review (☆☆☆☆☆)

          After I was about 24-hours deep into L.A. Noire the 17-year-old son of my fiancée (who'd not yet played) asked, "Do you find your former experience as a cop helps?"

          "No."  I said, keeping the hop-headed juvenile delinquent in my peripheral vision while still focusing on the baby booming post-war city of angels (where none are depicted).  "In fact, I find the opposite to be true."

          If you're a fan of any or all of the games made by Rockstar, you'll like this one and will be in familiar territory.  Here, instead of being a gangster (like in all the GTA's) or an outlaw (Red Dead Redemption) you're a good cop in a world of corruption.  Just like previous Rockstar's, you still drive any and every vehicle—but in 1947 L.A. you ask politely or 'emergency commandeer' them—but, different from previous games, you must drive carefully; hitting citizens or damaging property ruins your score.

          The map of Los Angeles is huge and there are more puzzles than ever before.  Players must find 50 golden film reels (hard—I've only found 2); discover and photograph all the 1947 landmarks; drive 95 different cars (not too hard—I've already found 83); and solve a few dozen crimes by locating evidence and interviewing people.

          Here's where being a former cop is a detriment:  You choose from truth, doubt, or lie after they answer every interview question.  No going back.  No do-overs.  No interrogations.  No repeating yourself.  And, if you don't have hard, tangible, evidence in-hand you can't accuse them of lying.  But...just like in real life...everyone rarely tells the truth.  So far, I'm the worst at determining who's telling the truth and who to doubt (there's a built-in work-around using "intuition points," but I've not resorted to that quasi-cheat—obviously, my downfall).

          All the missions in the game could probably reach 'case closed' status in less than 25 total-hours.  However, with all the side missions, puzzles, and the occasional case do-over (because your outcome changes depending on the quantity of evidence you compile, confessions you obtain, and collateral damage you avoid) I believe the game will/could take a minimum of 75-100 hours before boredom sets in.

          Although I think LA NOIRE deserves my highest rating, it's not for children.  Not because it's rife with the stereotypical misogyny, racism, and hyper-nationalism often depicted in films and TV, which show us post-WWII America through a dark and gritty lens, (e.g. Dragnet, The Killers, The Two Jakes) nor because it contains violence, nudity, and profanity (albeit that's not a bad reason) but because it requires an adult's reasoning and sensibility.  If you're old enough to enjoy a black-and-white police procedural you'll understand and appreciate this game.