Let me apologize in advance for the long delay in posting a fresh movie review to our blog. I will not, however, apologize for Matthew not posting a fresh movie review because he has a new job, new apartment and new lease on life! Look out California, Matthew is back to managing people. Although I do not know how many people Matthew is managing, or what he is asking them to do on a daily basis…I am hoping that this nugget will inspire him to set aside a few minutes from his newly busy schedule to wax poetically about his new job, house and maybe even the ladies. Congratulations Matthew and welcome back to the world of 8 to 5 (When Dolly Parton was working 9 to 5 did she get a lunch hour).
I have actually rented and/or attended several movies within the past month. I have seen I Love You Man, Watchmen, Miracle at St. Anna, Semi-Pro (again), Role Models and an unfortunate glance at Cynthia Nixon’s naked body while flipping past the Sex in the City movie. I am actually going back and forth on whether to keep in the “unfortunate glance” remark with regard to seeing that body because two of the other movies on my list have glaring (and in one case glowing) male nudity without proper warning. Since I have already discussed this topic in a previous review I won’t harp on it again, but we really need to stop this ball (no pun intended) from rolling any further down the mountain. On the other hand, I really do appreciate the fact that Malin Akerman is not embarrassed by her body and is willing to provide tasteful, artistic nudity in almost all of her films (Watchmen, The Heartbreak Kid, Harold & Kumar).
All of that aside, I would like to type a few paragraphs with regard to the movie I saw most recently called Slumdog Millionaire. I am sure all of you have heard of this movie as it was the winner of multiple awards this past year including the Oscars for Achievement in Screenplay, Original Song, Director and Best Motion Picture. I knew quite a bit about this film just based on all of the Oscar buzz and water cooler talk. I knew that the main character of the film was a contestant on Who Wants to be a Millionaire and all of the questions on this quiz show related to an experience he had in his life. I also knew that the film was based in India and was quite the social statement with regard to poverty and the reality of the 2nd World.
What I don’t know is whether or not there is a 2nd World. I know there is a 1st World and I know there is a 3rd World but have you ever heard anyone talk about the 2nd World? Wouldn’t you have to put a country like India in the 2nd World? I think they could be considered a 1st World country based on their GDP but it is also one of the poorest and most illiterate countries on Earth. I will save this debate for another forum but right before you go to sleep tonight, turn to your bed-mate and ask he or she “where would you rank India from a socio-economic global prospective?”
So the film moved along OK, it was definitely eye opening to see the scale of poverty in India and the challenges the Indian people face everyday. It will remind you how lucky we are to have clean running water, indoor plumbing and reliable electricity here in the good-ole US of A. It will also make you think just how fortunate we were as a young Nation to grow up in the 18th and 19th Century when so many of the ugly faces of Capitalism (this is really a comment on economies of scale) were not pressing to keep us from realizing our economic independence. That is not to say that I am in any way anti-Capitalism, but Capitalism as an economic system that can be painfully exploited.
OK, so we have talked about Cynthia Nixon’s naked body, India’s place in the world’s pecking order and a popular quiz show. Where could we possibly go from here? How about this one; when you watch Slumdog Millionaire keep a close eye on the three main characters (Jamal, Salim and Latika). Since I know very little about children this may be how it actually works but it sure looked like the ages of the children fluctuated from very young, to young, to getting older, back to young and then straight to older. Who knows, maybe the Benjamin Button disease originated in India.
That makes me wonder, if you had that problem would you tell anyone? Other than the confusion in wardrobe and medicine cabinet contents…would you seek treatment for a disease where you would randomly go from young to old and back to young? I guess it would be like being stuck in the movie 18 Again except that sometimes you would be George Burns and sometimes you would be Charlie Schlatter (what ever happened to that guy? My sister used to love him).
Why wasn’t Regis hosting Who Wants to be a Millionaire? I mean, the guy they had hosting the show in the movie was about as Indian as Regis is human. I think the accent the host used must have come from the same prop closet as the accent Jon Voight used in Anaconda. Wouldn’t the whole movie have been more fun if Regis had portrayed himself? Can’t you just see Regis trying to pronounce the name Jamal Malik and reading Indian trivia questions? And how great would it have been if Regis was the one beating up Jamal while accusing him of cheating! Regis could have been to India what Jerry Lewis is to France.
So, to wrap this one up Slumdog Millionaire won a lot of awards, opened up a lot of eyes to the Indian sub-continent and overtook The Love Guru for best ending dance sequence.
Warren
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
An Exclusive Ride on the Midnight Meat Train
I consider myself one of the luckiest men on the face of the earth for having seen the theatrical trailer for Midnight Meat Train. I am quite sure Matthew remembers as well because we saw it together prior to There Will Be Blood. As I recall, the trailer flowed in the normal candy-cutter manner of most stalker-based horror flicks. It foretold the danger, running, chasing, slashing and screaming that would face minor Hollywood stars Bradley Cooper, Leslie Bibb and Brooke Shields. Nothing could have prepared me for the final scene of the preview, as the subway hurls down the dimly lit tunnel, the movie title is displayed for the first time and the voice of the preview slowly and calmly says “Midnight Meat Train.”
Matthew and I both immediately broke into laughter and I vowed to myself that I would cherish the viewing of the preview in the same way I cherish my first born child (of which I do not have one). I am still surprised that I cannot buy a T-shirt in Vegas with that movie title written across the chest. If I can buy a shirt that says “I ♥ To Fart” then why can’t I buy a shirt with “Midnight Meat Train” on there? I really believe that the shirt could outsell the yellow smiley face shirt. If you put “Midnight Meat Train” on the front and “Catch It Tonight” on the back…you would have capitalistic gold.
Of course, Midnight Meat Train never came to any theaters that I am aware of. Come to think of it, I don’t recall even seeing the movie at Blockbuster or the magic $1 video box at Fry’s either. It is possible I missed its quick run through theaters and on the New Release shelf at the movie store, but more than likely it just slipped into obscurity. Nothing makes me happier than to think that it slipped into obscurity. Lots of people can tell the story of attending a Super Bowl or watching a Presidential Inauguration or seeing Elvis in concert. How many people can say they saw the original trailer for Midnight Meat Train in the theater?
But, just when I thought I had struck trailer gold, I spotted another shiny nugget last Sunday. This particular trailer portrayed young sexy co-eds dancing, drinking and experimenting with pre-marital relations on the high seas. But when the drunken relations go awry someone ends up dead. In this case (according to the trailer), one of three girls on the boat dies from the relations and her body is disposed of by the three boys on the boat. Somehow this leads to tension between the remaining two girls and the original three boys. This tension leads to the boys tying up the girls, the tying up leads to the girls trying to escape, and the trying to escape leads to a dramatic conclusion.
The dramatic conclusion to this trailer was the title of the movie itself: Donkey Punch.
You have read that title correctly; the movie is called Donkey Punch. I double dare any of you (if you don't already know) to look this term up to see what it means. I would have never thought in my lifetime that I would see this often misunderstood, misquoted, potentially lethal sexual term as the title of a mainstream film.
So now, not only have I had the great fortune to see the trailer to Midnight Meat Train, I have also seen the trailer to a movie called Donkey Punch. Think about that, it is basically the equivalent of seeing Elvis sing Jailhouse Rock live in Atlantis with a pet Dodo on his shoulder.
It is never too early to start filling out your Christmas list. Tell Santa, tell your spouse, tell your co-workers and tell your AA sponsor that you want to take a ride on the Midnight Meat Train and put a Donkey Punch under your tree. Oh, and if anyone that reads this blog creates a “Midnight Meat Train – Catch It Tonight” T-shirt, I want some residuals!
Warren
Matthew and I both immediately broke into laughter and I vowed to myself that I would cherish the viewing of the preview in the same way I cherish my first born child (of which I do not have one). I am still surprised that I cannot buy a T-shirt in Vegas with that movie title written across the chest. If I can buy a shirt that says “I ♥ To Fart” then why can’t I buy a shirt with “Midnight Meat Train” on there? I really believe that the shirt could outsell the yellow smiley face shirt. If you put “Midnight Meat Train” on the front and “Catch It Tonight” on the back…you would have capitalistic gold.
Of course, Midnight Meat Train never came to any theaters that I am aware of. Come to think of it, I don’t recall even seeing the movie at Blockbuster or the magic $1 video box at Fry’s either. It is possible I missed its quick run through theaters and on the New Release shelf at the movie store, but more than likely it just slipped into obscurity. Nothing makes me happier than to think that it slipped into obscurity. Lots of people can tell the story of attending a Super Bowl or watching a Presidential Inauguration or seeing Elvis in concert. How many people can say they saw the original trailer for Midnight Meat Train in the theater?
But, just when I thought I had struck trailer gold, I spotted another shiny nugget last Sunday. This particular trailer portrayed young sexy co-eds dancing, drinking and experimenting with pre-marital relations on the high seas. But when the drunken relations go awry someone ends up dead. In this case (according to the trailer), one of three girls on the boat dies from the relations and her body is disposed of by the three boys on the boat. Somehow this leads to tension between the remaining two girls and the original three boys. This tension leads to the boys tying up the girls, the tying up leads to the girls trying to escape, and the trying to escape leads to a dramatic conclusion.
The dramatic conclusion to this trailer was the title of the movie itself: Donkey Punch.
You have read that title correctly; the movie is called Donkey Punch. I double dare any of you (if you don't already know) to look this term up to see what it means. I would have never thought in my lifetime that I would see this often misunderstood, misquoted, potentially lethal sexual term as the title of a mainstream film.
So now, not only have I had the great fortune to see the trailer to Midnight Meat Train, I have also seen the trailer to a movie called Donkey Punch. Think about that, it is basically the equivalent of seeing Elvis sing Jailhouse Rock live in Atlantis with a pet Dodo on his shoulder.
It is never too early to start filling out your Christmas list. Tell Santa, tell your spouse, tell your co-workers and tell your AA sponsor that you want to take a ride on the Midnight Meat Train and put a Donkey Punch under your tree. Oh, and if anyone that reads this blog creates a “Midnight Meat Train – Catch It Tonight” T-shirt, I want some residuals!
Warren
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
A Penny for My Thoughts on The Wrestler
This past weekend I finally got the opportunity to attend a movie I have been looking forward to seeing for quite some time. The Wrestler is still in limited release (it is only showing at 1 theater in all of Arizona) but it has generated a lot of Oscar buzz and Mickey Rourke has already won several awards for his leading actor performance. I was looking forward to this movie for three main reasons; I really liked Mickey Rourke in his pre-boxing and pre-motorcycle and pre-cosmetic surgery days, I used to work as a regulator/tax collector for professional wrestling in the Great State of Missouri, and Marisa Tomei is hot! Plus, it is actually nice to see a movie about a topic relevant to people under the age of 65 getting some Oscar buzz.
As I previously stated, The Wrestler is only being shown at one theater in Arizona. The theater at which it is being shown is an Independent/Artsy type theater near a ritzy mall in Scottsdale. Since I had never been to this theater I had it in my mind that they would be serving red wine and the patrons would either be in top hats or peace sign T-shirts. I was hoping that this theoretical cast of characters would somehow clash with the legions of wrestling fans I used to see at High School Gymnasiums in rural Missouri. No movie is complete without some type of rumble when the credits roll (I prefer a rumble with snapping and high-kicks myself).
Unfortunately, when I got to the theater I realized that the only rumble I was going to get after the movie was going to have to come from the bowels of fifty seats full of senior citizens. I got behind several “age-experienced” folks in the line to purchase a ticket and as usual, this took way longer than should be necessary. For those of you that frequent movie theaters, maybe you can help me out on this question: Why do senior citizens always have so much change? Do senior citizens control the coins in this country? Everywhere I go, including movie theaters, they are getting out their coin-purses and unloading nothing but silver coins and crumpled dollar bills. I realize that this may be a generational issue but where do they get all of this change and why is their stock not depleting? I am really only half-joking, I realize that coins are money too, but I just don’t understand how senior citizens accumulated so many coins. And just to follow-up on my previous question, how is it that they never have any idea how much change they have? When they pull up to the register they just start sifting through that coin purse with seemingly no idea if they have enough change to pay for their purchases. I mean, is there one huge coin jar at every senior citizens house and before they go out they just reach in a take a scoop of coins? Then again, Scrooge McDuck had a whole room full of coins that he just dove into and swam around in. Maybe that is why senior citizens do so many exercises that involve holding empty milk jugs.
Anyway, Mickey Rourke stars in The Wrestler as Randy “The Ram” Robinson, a washed up professional wrestler still holding onto the dream well past his prime. As a former professional wrestling regulator, I saw way too much professional wrestling at high school gyms, church basements, county fairs, American Legion halls, smoke-filled banquet rooms and occasionally, eighteen thousand seat arenas. I spent five years of my life traveling all over Missouri to represent the State and collect the ticket tax. I am providing that little walk down memory lane to make the point that I have seen a lot of independent, small time professional wrestling, and The Wrestler captured everything that I saw. The story that was told and the action that was presented, from the wrestlers all pulling the same rolling luggage with their tights and exercise bands, to the camaraderie in the locker room and the highs and lows of the pre-match and post-match experience, was very real and very well done.
I personally thought that both the story and the portrayal of a washed-up wrestler by Mickey Rourke closely followed the true story of Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka. I saw Jimmy Snuka work for an independent wrestling organization in Poplar Bluff, Missouri while working for the State. I remember watching Snuka during his run in the WWF during the height of wrestling’s popularity. He was a dynamic performer and one of the first wrestlers to use a lot of high-flying maneuvers (including his Superfly Splash finishing move). The man I saw sitting on a bucket in the kitchen of the Armory in Poplar Bluff was just a ghost of what I remembered seeing on television. He still wore the shoulder length “soul glow” hair but he also had thick glasses, a well worn forehead and the demeanor of a tired, beaten man. I don’t mean any of this to be disrespectful, Snuka was nothing but polite and friendly to me and we chatted for several minutes about his travels and experiences. In fact, when we were chatting the promoter came in to pay Snuka his fee and it was almost exactly like the scene in the Wrestler where the promoter hands Randy Robinson a disappointing amount of money and says “I thought the gate would be better.”
That scene captured the real essence of minor league wrestling. The men and women wrestlers that I saw worked hard at their day jobs, pushed show tickets to their friends and family at night and then wrestled once or twice a month in the hopes of extending or elevating their wrestling dreams and making $25 to $50 a show. Often times, the hope of making $25 to $50 turned into promoters asking the wrestlers for money to cover the building rental in the hopes that the next show would have a “better gate.” Sometimes, a wrestler would earn his or her $50 only to have to give it directly to me to fund their Missouri State Constitution mandated professional wrestlers license fee. It was not a glorious life by any means, and after they had put on a grueling and painful show, signed autographs for children and adults alike, pushed their homemade t-shirts and VHS highlight reels, they generally folded and stacked chairs and took the ring apart to be loaded into a pickup parked out back.
As much as I liked both the story and the style of the film, I do have to offer a few words of warning. My wife got sick watching the film from a lethal combination of hand-held camera sequences and bloody wrestling action. Parts of the film, including quite a bit of footage early in the movie, are shot with what appears to be a hand-held camera and are very shaky (think Blair Witch Project, the first movie – no one should ever think about the second movie). I did not have any problems watching the movie but the shakiness of the camera is definitely noticeable.
The bloody wrestling action is another story. Unfortunately, the presentation of both how these matches are choreographed and how they turn out looking to the wrestling audience is very real. During the period in recent professional wrestling history when interest in the mega organizations weaned (WWF, WCW, ECW), independent wrestling organizations turned to gimmick matches to lure paying customers to live events. These were not the gimmick matches of the old wrestling days – loser leaves town matches, strap matches, blindfold matches, girls mud wrestling matches, over the top rope matches, handicap matches, etc. The new style of gimmick matches included no holds barred matches, barbed wire rope matches, fire matches, ladder and chair matches, thumb tack matches, staple gun matches, first blood matches and sometimes a combination of all of the above.
The toll that these types of gimmick matches take on wrestlers can be very extreme (both physically and professionally). Unfortunately, once you start down the path of gigging (intentionally causing oneself to bleed) both the show promoters and the fans begin to not only expect it in every match, they also expect to see something new and bigger at every match. In The Wrestler there is a full sequence of an anything goes match in which Randy Robinson wrestles a poor-mans Mick Foley in a High School gymnasium. The match is brutal and includes everything from barbed wire ropes, to ladders and tables, to trash cans and staple guns. If you are at all squeamish about blood and violence you may want to make a run to the snack bar for a refill on your Orange Crush during this scene. If you want to see the scene, you will be rewarded with an accurate depiction of what wrestling has become to some promoters and wrestlers determined to have a crowd leave their professional wrestling show saying “that is the sickest thing I have ever seen.”
Finally, I just want to say that Marisa Tomei is incredibly hot in this movie. It goes without saying that we all saw My Cousin Vinny and we were all immediately taken with Marisa Tomei. In The Wrestler, Marisa plays a stripper named Cassidy and she not only provides a well rounded dramatic performance, she is also in great shape and looks unbelievable in her stripper gear (also known as underwear the size of my wallet). Even if you have no interest in going to this movie, at least go to the Internet and watch Marisa’s performance (remember now, she is 44 years old)!
So, to wrap this one up, I give my full endorsement to The Wrestler. Also, while I think that Mickey Rourke could win an Oscar for his performance as Randy Robinson, I also think that Carré Otis should have won an Oscar in 1989 for her performance with Mickey Rourke in Wild Orchid.
Warren
As I previously stated, The Wrestler is only being shown at one theater in Arizona. The theater at which it is being shown is an Independent/Artsy type theater near a ritzy mall in Scottsdale. Since I had never been to this theater I had it in my mind that they would be serving red wine and the patrons would either be in top hats or peace sign T-shirts. I was hoping that this theoretical cast of characters would somehow clash with the legions of wrestling fans I used to see at High School Gymnasiums in rural Missouri. No movie is complete without some type of rumble when the credits roll (I prefer a rumble with snapping and high-kicks myself).
Unfortunately, when I got to the theater I realized that the only rumble I was going to get after the movie was going to have to come from the bowels of fifty seats full of senior citizens. I got behind several “age-experienced” folks in the line to purchase a ticket and as usual, this took way longer than should be necessary. For those of you that frequent movie theaters, maybe you can help me out on this question: Why do senior citizens always have so much change? Do senior citizens control the coins in this country? Everywhere I go, including movie theaters, they are getting out their coin-purses and unloading nothing but silver coins and crumpled dollar bills. I realize that this may be a generational issue but where do they get all of this change and why is their stock not depleting? I am really only half-joking, I realize that coins are money too, but I just don’t understand how senior citizens accumulated so many coins. And just to follow-up on my previous question, how is it that they never have any idea how much change they have? When they pull up to the register they just start sifting through that coin purse with seemingly no idea if they have enough change to pay for their purchases. I mean, is there one huge coin jar at every senior citizens house and before they go out they just reach in a take a scoop of coins? Then again, Scrooge McDuck had a whole room full of coins that he just dove into and swam around in. Maybe that is why senior citizens do so many exercises that involve holding empty milk jugs.
Anyway, Mickey Rourke stars in The Wrestler as Randy “The Ram” Robinson, a washed up professional wrestler still holding onto the dream well past his prime. As a former professional wrestling regulator, I saw way too much professional wrestling at high school gyms, church basements, county fairs, American Legion halls, smoke-filled banquet rooms and occasionally, eighteen thousand seat arenas. I spent five years of my life traveling all over Missouri to represent the State and collect the ticket tax. I am providing that little walk down memory lane to make the point that I have seen a lot of independent, small time professional wrestling, and The Wrestler captured everything that I saw. The story that was told and the action that was presented, from the wrestlers all pulling the same rolling luggage with their tights and exercise bands, to the camaraderie in the locker room and the highs and lows of the pre-match and post-match experience, was very real and very well done.
I personally thought that both the story and the portrayal of a washed-up wrestler by Mickey Rourke closely followed the true story of Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka. I saw Jimmy Snuka work for an independent wrestling organization in Poplar Bluff, Missouri while working for the State. I remember watching Snuka during his run in the WWF during the height of wrestling’s popularity. He was a dynamic performer and one of the first wrestlers to use a lot of high-flying maneuvers (including his Superfly Splash finishing move). The man I saw sitting on a bucket in the kitchen of the Armory in Poplar Bluff was just a ghost of what I remembered seeing on television. He still wore the shoulder length “soul glow” hair but he also had thick glasses, a well worn forehead and the demeanor of a tired, beaten man. I don’t mean any of this to be disrespectful, Snuka was nothing but polite and friendly to me and we chatted for several minutes about his travels and experiences. In fact, when we were chatting the promoter came in to pay Snuka his fee and it was almost exactly like the scene in the Wrestler where the promoter hands Randy Robinson a disappointing amount of money and says “I thought the gate would be better.”
That scene captured the real essence of minor league wrestling. The men and women wrestlers that I saw worked hard at their day jobs, pushed show tickets to their friends and family at night and then wrestled once or twice a month in the hopes of extending or elevating their wrestling dreams and making $25 to $50 a show. Often times, the hope of making $25 to $50 turned into promoters asking the wrestlers for money to cover the building rental in the hopes that the next show would have a “better gate.” Sometimes, a wrestler would earn his or her $50 only to have to give it directly to me to fund their Missouri State Constitution mandated professional wrestlers license fee. It was not a glorious life by any means, and after they had put on a grueling and painful show, signed autographs for children and adults alike, pushed their homemade t-shirts and VHS highlight reels, they generally folded and stacked chairs and took the ring apart to be loaded into a pickup parked out back.
As much as I liked both the story and the style of the film, I do have to offer a few words of warning. My wife got sick watching the film from a lethal combination of hand-held camera sequences and bloody wrestling action. Parts of the film, including quite a bit of footage early in the movie, are shot with what appears to be a hand-held camera and are very shaky (think Blair Witch Project, the first movie – no one should ever think about the second movie). I did not have any problems watching the movie but the shakiness of the camera is definitely noticeable.
The bloody wrestling action is another story. Unfortunately, the presentation of both how these matches are choreographed and how they turn out looking to the wrestling audience is very real. During the period in recent professional wrestling history when interest in the mega organizations weaned (WWF, WCW, ECW), independent wrestling organizations turned to gimmick matches to lure paying customers to live events. These were not the gimmick matches of the old wrestling days – loser leaves town matches, strap matches, blindfold matches, girls mud wrestling matches, over the top rope matches, handicap matches, etc. The new style of gimmick matches included no holds barred matches, barbed wire rope matches, fire matches, ladder and chair matches, thumb tack matches, staple gun matches, first blood matches and sometimes a combination of all of the above.
The toll that these types of gimmick matches take on wrestlers can be very extreme (both physically and professionally). Unfortunately, once you start down the path of gigging (intentionally causing oneself to bleed) both the show promoters and the fans begin to not only expect it in every match, they also expect to see something new and bigger at every match. In The Wrestler there is a full sequence of an anything goes match in which Randy Robinson wrestles a poor-mans Mick Foley in a High School gymnasium. The match is brutal and includes everything from barbed wire ropes, to ladders and tables, to trash cans and staple guns. If you are at all squeamish about blood and violence you may want to make a run to the snack bar for a refill on your Orange Crush during this scene. If you want to see the scene, you will be rewarded with an accurate depiction of what wrestling has become to some promoters and wrestlers determined to have a crowd leave their professional wrestling show saying “that is the sickest thing I have ever seen.”
Finally, I just want to say that Marisa Tomei is incredibly hot in this movie. It goes without saying that we all saw My Cousin Vinny and we were all immediately taken with Marisa Tomei. In The Wrestler, Marisa plays a stripper named Cassidy and she not only provides a well rounded dramatic performance, she is also in great shape and looks unbelievable in her stripper gear (also known as underwear the size of my wallet). Even if you have no interest in going to this movie, at least go to the Internet and watch Marisa’s performance (remember now, she is 44 years old)!
So, to wrap this one up, I give my full endorsement to The Wrestler. Also, while I think that Mickey Rourke could win an Oscar for his performance as Randy Robinson, I also think that Carré Otis should have won an Oscar in 1989 for her performance with Mickey Rourke in Wild Orchid.
Warren
Monday, January 26, 2009
Quantum of Silence
The other night I took my lovely wife out to a movie that I was personally not all that thrilled about seeing. She was very excited about seeing the movie and had asked several of her friends and co-workers about the movie in anticipation of seeing the movie. The movie was not Bride Wars, Doubt or Seven Pounds. The movie was Quantum of Solace.
As much as I love going to the movies, I just could not get excited about another James Bond film. I saw Casino Royale in Hawaii and was OK with where the story was going until they displayed forty-five minutes of poker playing. I think there was actually less card playing in that Eric Bana/Drew Barrymore movie Lucky You (which I have flipped past on HBO but never watched for more than a few minutes). I thought Daniel Craig’s portrayal of Bond in Casino Royale was different than anything I had previously seen (I am partial to Roger Moore) and the action was certainly spectacular but I washed my hands of that film once the card playing started. Plus, you know there can’t be a high roller card game without a 120 pound white guy in a DC straight billed hat with the size sticker predominantly displayed, sporting a black hoody, oversized sunglasses and listening to gangster rap on an Ipod.
The movie started out fairly promising. There is a cool car chase to start the movie that involves tunnels, hairpin turns and lots of shooting. The action was so fast and furious I could not even tell who was shooting at whom. Of course, I have to admit I am something of a skeptic when it comes to car scenes. As a member of the Nichols family I was born with something of a curse. That curse is the inability to purchase a reliable car and/or have any chance of maintaining it at a reasonable cost (I encourage you to contact your Legislator and ask that we mandate more federal funding for early detection of this terrible curse). So, when I was watching this spectacular chase scene I kept thinking about how these cars were crashing into each other and into walls and being shot with hundreds of bullets and speeding around hairpin turns and stopping on dimes…and I can’t get my car to drive without sputtering on a wide open freeway at fifty-five miles an hour. The Bond car can take fifty rounds to the engine and tires without switching out of cruise control and my car can’t go a mile if my gas cap is loose.
After the initial chase scene, the movie progressed into a sequel to a movie I could not remember. Other than the aforementioned forty-five minutes of card playing I have no recollection of the plot points of Casino Royale. If I would have known that it was necessary to remember the story line and characters from that movie I might have brushed up prior to Quantum of Solace (emphasis on might). For most of the movie I had no idea who had done what to whom and why everyone was mad at each other. Some movies kind of fill you in as you go along as a refresher (The Jason Bourne movies do this well), but not this movie. This movie didn’t have a chance to fill you in on important plot building points because there was absolutely no dialogue. This movie had less dialogue than any Jason Statham movie you can name. In fact, this movie may have had the least amount of dialogue in history of talking pictures. About half way through this movie I was looking around the theater hoping that someone had brought their Mighty Wurlitzer along and could mix in some 20’s era dramatic escape tunes.
One of the more interesting scenes in this movie involves James Bond’s attendance at a giant outdoor play that sort of looked like the joining of the Shepard of the Hills and a Yanni Concert. I have no idea what this play was supposed to be about but I am fairly sure that at the end some caged prisoners got killed to the delight of the crowd. As I sit here contemplating the meaning of this scene my best guess is that the bad guys who were attending this play to discuss their plans to take over the world had their enemies killed as part of the show. However, wouldn’t this fuel at least some questions from the cast of the show? At least in theory, the killing of the prisoners scene must have been in the script (actors don’t like last minute re-writes). So, there must have been a set of prisoners that were casted initially, probably for their ability to act desperate and scared while being caged and preparing for death. But then on this particular show night the regulars were scrubbed for these actual prisoners (I wonder if the Evil Playbill listed all of the understudy names of the prisoners). Wouldn’t at least one cast member say, “how come we are replacing the original cast of the prisoners?” Do you think the Assistant Director of the show went to the principal actors that night and said “let’s really make it look real tonight. No matter how much the prisoners complain or resist really ruff them up good and shoot them in the head!”
One other thought about this scene is that James Bond identifies the bad guys attending the show by using what can only be described as the best digital camera ever made. I know that James Bond movies are known for introducing and displaying cool current and future technology but the camera he had was just unbelievable. It was hard to tell exactly how far away James Bond was when he was taking photos with this fancy camera (it looked like your run-of-the-mill Nikon) but I am guessing he was perched about 10 stories up and looking down at the audience about 100-150 yards away (as the crow flies). This camera was taking clear head shots without the use of a flash (the show was being performed outside at night) that were being sent back to 007 Headquarters in London, England for the facial recognition software to read. I don’t know about you, but I can’t get a photo of me next to the Christmas tree to come out correctly and I have every lamp in my house pointed at the tree and the camera flash engaged!
Anyway, the rest of the movie hums along with various running, jumping, driving, flying, crashing, shooting, punching, kicking, sleeping at the nicest hotel in Haiti (who knew the Haitians were so opulent), visiting a sweet one hundred room hotel in the middle of the desert (where there were no maids on staff yet spotless rooms…think about that one), and revenge (best served cold). All the while, James Bond said pretty much nothing.
So to wrap this one up, let me just say that this movie was action packed (I think the Director at some point said, “we need to come in under two hours, we just don’t have time for all of this plot development and talking”) but if I have to remember characters and story lines from both Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace for the next installment (my sources say the working title is Conundrum of Uranus), I may sit it out.
Warren
As much as I love going to the movies, I just could not get excited about another James Bond film. I saw Casino Royale in Hawaii and was OK with where the story was going until they displayed forty-five minutes of poker playing. I think there was actually less card playing in that Eric Bana/Drew Barrymore movie Lucky You (which I have flipped past on HBO but never watched for more than a few minutes). I thought Daniel Craig’s portrayal of Bond in Casino Royale was different than anything I had previously seen (I am partial to Roger Moore) and the action was certainly spectacular but I washed my hands of that film once the card playing started. Plus, you know there can’t be a high roller card game without a 120 pound white guy in a DC straight billed hat with the size sticker predominantly displayed, sporting a black hoody, oversized sunglasses and listening to gangster rap on an Ipod.
The movie started out fairly promising. There is a cool car chase to start the movie that involves tunnels, hairpin turns and lots of shooting. The action was so fast and furious I could not even tell who was shooting at whom. Of course, I have to admit I am something of a skeptic when it comes to car scenes. As a member of the Nichols family I was born with something of a curse. That curse is the inability to purchase a reliable car and/or have any chance of maintaining it at a reasonable cost (I encourage you to contact your Legislator and ask that we mandate more federal funding for early detection of this terrible curse). So, when I was watching this spectacular chase scene I kept thinking about how these cars were crashing into each other and into walls and being shot with hundreds of bullets and speeding around hairpin turns and stopping on dimes…and I can’t get my car to drive without sputtering on a wide open freeway at fifty-five miles an hour. The Bond car can take fifty rounds to the engine and tires without switching out of cruise control and my car can’t go a mile if my gas cap is loose.
After the initial chase scene, the movie progressed into a sequel to a movie I could not remember. Other than the aforementioned forty-five minutes of card playing I have no recollection of the plot points of Casino Royale. If I would have known that it was necessary to remember the story line and characters from that movie I might have brushed up prior to Quantum of Solace (emphasis on might). For most of the movie I had no idea who had done what to whom and why everyone was mad at each other. Some movies kind of fill you in as you go along as a refresher (The Jason Bourne movies do this well), but not this movie. This movie didn’t have a chance to fill you in on important plot building points because there was absolutely no dialogue. This movie had less dialogue than any Jason Statham movie you can name. In fact, this movie may have had the least amount of dialogue in history of talking pictures. About half way through this movie I was looking around the theater hoping that someone had brought their Mighty Wurlitzer along and could mix in some 20’s era dramatic escape tunes.
One of the more interesting scenes in this movie involves James Bond’s attendance at a giant outdoor play that sort of looked like the joining of the Shepard of the Hills and a Yanni Concert. I have no idea what this play was supposed to be about but I am fairly sure that at the end some caged prisoners got killed to the delight of the crowd. As I sit here contemplating the meaning of this scene my best guess is that the bad guys who were attending this play to discuss their plans to take over the world had their enemies killed as part of the show. However, wouldn’t this fuel at least some questions from the cast of the show? At least in theory, the killing of the prisoners scene must have been in the script (actors don’t like last minute re-writes). So, there must have been a set of prisoners that were casted initially, probably for their ability to act desperate and scared while being caged and preparing for death. But then on this particular show night the regulars were scrubbed for these actual prisoners (I wonder if the Evil Playbill listed all of the understudy names of the prisoners). Wouldn’t at least one cast member say, “how come we are replacing the original cast of the prisoners?” Do you think the Assistant Director of the show went to the principal actors that night and said “let’s really make it look real tonight. No matter how much the prisoners complain or resist really ruff them up good and shoot them in the head!”
One other thought about this scene is that James Bond identifies the bad guys attending the show by using what can only be described as the best digital camera ever made. I know that James Bond movies are known for introducing and displaying cool current and future technology but the camera he had was just unbelievable. It was hard to tell exactly how far away James Bond was when he was taking photos with this fancy camera (it looked like your run-of-the-mill Nikon) but I am guessing he was perched about 10 stories up and looking down at the audience about 100-150 yards away (as the crow flies). This camera was taking clear head shots without the use of a flash (the show was being performed outside at night) that were being sent back to 007 Headquarters in London, England for the facial recognition software to read. I don’t know about you, but I can’t get a photo of me next to the Christmas tree to come out correctly and I have every lamp in my house pointed at the tree and the camera flash engaged!
Anyway, the rest of the movie hums along with various running, jumping, driving, flying, crashing, shooting, punching, kicking, sleeping at the nicest hotel in Haiti (who knew the Haitians were so opulent), visiting a sweet one hundred room hotel in the middle of the desert (where there were no maids on staff yet spotless rooms…think about that one), and revenge (best served cold). All the while, James Bond said pretty much nothing.
So to wrap this one up, let me just say that this movie was action packed (I think the Director at some point said, “we need to come in under two hours, we just don’t have time for all of this plot development and talking”) but if I have to remember characters and story lines from both Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace for the next installment (my sources say the working title is Conundrum of Uranus), I may sit it out.
Warren
Saturday, January 24, 2009
I see your Kim Richards and I raise you a Bud Cort
So Warren's sister is travelling around the country and she stopped off in San Francisco to visit friends. Warren had given her my phone number and she called me and invited me out to see a movie with her and her friend, Jesus. Figuring that everyone needs a little Jesus in their life, I agreed to meet up with them. We went to see an old movie "Harold and Maude." Ashley, that is Warren's sister's name, told me that she enjoyed reading Warren and my post but she wanted us to review older movies. She figured that by enticing me out to see a movie, it would provide fodder for the blog. And it has obviously, because I am writing about the movie in the blog. So maybe Warren and I will begin reviewing older movies. Now "Harold and Maude" isn't really that old a movie. It was made in 1971. Not exactly the days just after "talkies" were beginning to be shown. But I see her point.
She has a blog also and has already written her entry about that night. You can read it at: http://ashontheroad.blogspot.com/. Ashley has already taken the best line from the movie and used it in her blog, so I won't reprint it here.
As she indicates in her blog she and her friend were walking down the street and noticed that "Harold and Maude" would be playing at the Castro Theater as part of the SF Sketchfest. And Bud Cort, one of the two stars of the movie, would be talking afterwards. In all my years of coming to SF to visit friends or family or just in the last year while living here, I have never been to the infamous Castro Theater. There is a reason. The Castro is in the Castro district of San Francisco. The gay district. Now there are gay people all over San Francisco, we don't herd them into one area and cordon it off. But the Castro is where gays know that they can be their most flamboyant. Think of all the gay stereotypical behavior and it is in the Castro; shops selling ass-less chaps, public displays of affection, etc. And it is home to a great old theater. I am sorry that I never saw a show there before this past Thursday.
"Harold and Maude" is about death. Not the old tired cliches about death, but seeing it as the integral part of life. The necessary and inevitable end. Harold, played by Bud Cort, is obsessed with death. He is a rich, privileged late-teen/early twenties kid who keeps faking his own suicide to shock his mother, Vivian Pickles (who gives a tremendous performance, only to be outdone [but just barely] by Ruth Gordon). His mother, having seen his fake attempts so many times, merely ignores his theatrics with a disgusted toss of her well coiffed head or shrilly castigates Harold for ruining a perfectly good evening. Hilarious stuff. Oh yeah, this is a comedy.
Anyway, Harold is so obsessed with death that he attends funerals. It is at a funeral where Harold meets Maude. She is an old lady just weeks away from her eightieth birthday. In contrast to Harold, Maude loves life. She is goofy and irreverent. She steals cars, saves trees, cackles as she tweaks the sensibilities of the established order, and just in general lives as her own person. The effect on Harold is intoxicating and he slowly begins to appreciate his own life as he engages in adventures with her.
The movie is life affirming. Essentially the message is don't obsess over the bad things in life, but embrace each day as if it were your last. That is a worthwhile message. But it is not as revelatory as the critics make it out to be and this movie is not, as some have stated, "The Best of All Time." It was a nice movie with incredible performances by Cort, Gordon, and Pickles. I laughed. I cried. I left the movie theater.
Bud Cort today looks just like he did in the movie. Not! He is forty years older. In the Q & A his fans asked many questions about his career. I didn't know that he had a career. They say that he was in "Mash" with Donald Sutherland and Elliot Gould. I'll have to go back and take a look at that movie. Maybe I missed him in it.
Matthew
She has a blog also and has already written her entry about that night. You can read it at: http://ashontheroad.blogspot.com/. Ashley has already taken the best line from the movie and used it in her blog, so I won't reprint it here.
As she indicates in her blog she and her friend were walking down the street and noticed that "Harold and Maude" would be playing at the Castro Theater as part of the SF Sketchfest. And Bud Cort, one of the two stars of the movie, would be talking afterwards. In all my years of coming to SF to visit friends or family or just in the last year while living here, I have never been to the infamous Castro Theater. There is a reason. The Castro is in the Castro district of San Francisco. The gay district. Now there are gay people all over San Francisco, we don't herd them into one area and cordon it off. But the Castro is where gays know that they can be their most flamboyant. Think of all the gay stereotypical behavior and it is in the Castro; shops selling ass-less chaps, public displays of affection, etc. And it is home to a great old theater. I am sorry that I never saw a show there before this past Thursday.
"Harold and Maude" is about death. Not the old tired cliches about death, but seeing it as the integral part of life. The necessary and inevitable end. Harold, played by Bud Cort, is obsessed with death. He is a rich, privileged late-teen/early twenties kid who keeps faking his own suicide to shock his mother, Vivian Pickles (who gives a tremendous performance, only to be outdone [but just barely] by Ruth Gordon). His mother, having seen his fake attempts so many times, merely ignores his theatrics with a disgusted toss of her well coiffed head or shrilly castigates Harold for ruining a perfectly good evening. Hilarious stuff. Oh yeah, this is a comedy.
Anyway, Harold is so obsessed with death that he attends funerals. It is at a funeral where Harold meets Maude. She is an old lady just weeks away from her eightieth birthday. In contrast to Harold, Maude loves life. She is goofy and irreverent. She steals cars, saves trees, cackles as she tweaks the sensibilities of the established order, and just in general lives as her own person. The effect on Harold is intoxicating and he slowly begins to appreciate his own life as he engages in adventures with her.
The movie is life affirming. Essentially the message is don't obsess over the bad things in life, but embrace each day as if it were your last. That is a worthwhile message. But it is not as revelatory as the critics make it out to be and this movie is not, as some have stated, "The Best of All Time." It was a nice movie with incredible performances by Cort, Gordon, and Pickles. I laughed. I cried. I left the movie theater.
Bud Cort today looks just like he did in the movie. Not! He is forty years older. In the Q & A his fans asked many questions about his career. I didn't know that he had a career. They say that he was in "Mash" with Donald Sutherland and Elliot Gould. I'll have to go back and take a look at that movie. Maybe I missed him in it.
Matthew
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Samuel L. Jackson = Snakes?
So we have to sign our blogs now? Our regular readers couldn't tell who was writing what. I think that Warren and I have established our individual voices through our writing pretty well. And if the guy who is writing is referring to Warren and not stating that he is Warren than the guy who is writing isn't Warren and is in fact the other guy, Matthew. Again, pretty easy to figure out, but whatever. We'll do this the remedial way for the short bus people.
I like Samuel L. Jackson. I think that he is a great actor. I could watch his performance in "Pulp Fiction," all day. And I have been taking notice of him ever since he first appeared in "Goodfellas." Don't remember him in "Goodfellas?" Watch it again. He's in there. But lately, he, like other actors I have mentioned in this blog, has been resting on his laurels. And the past two movies he has been in have to do with snakes. Now that is just typecasting. I'm not going to review "Snakes on a Plane." I saw it. I thought that it was kind of dumb. Not much dumber than any other movies in the genre, but dumber than the movies I feel like writing about.
I just watched "Black Snake Moan." Mostly because I heard that it had a naked Christina Ricci in it, as well as Sam Jackson. The previews of the movie made the movie seem like it would be an old south, funky voodoo vibe kind of movie. And it was. A lot of blues music in the soundtrack and all the main characters had devils and demons in their minds. It was sensual and dark. The movie was written and directed by the same guy who wrote and directed "Hustle and Flow." So it came with pedigree.
The plot revolves around Christina Ricci playing Rae, a small-southern-town slut. Sorry for that bad word there, but really there is no other way to describe her. When she is drunk or high, she writhes on the ground, 'gets the fever', and has sex with whatever man is around. Easy to see what her demon is. A pretty, trashy, southern, young girl who has sex indiscriminately = child abuse. The movie reveals that truth as the plot develops. She keeps her demon at bay as long as her man, Justin Timberlake, is in town. Wait. How did he get in here? Yeah, Mr. Timberlake is playing a young man who intends to join the army, who is currently shacking up permanent-like with Ricci.
Anyway, Timberlake goes off to Memphis or somewhere to undergo basic training. Leaving Rae alone by herself. Well, you know no good will come of that. Rae parties with friends, drinks, takes drugs, loses her clothes and has sex. Later a friend of Justin Timberlake is driving a still addled Ricci home and he starts to get stirrings in his loins. Naturally he forgets what a good friend he is to Timberlake and makes a move on Ricci. Ricci is aware enough to reject him (this guy should have started his moves sooner) and he beats her up and throws her out of his truck on the side of the road.
Samuel L. Jackson (remember him, this blog entry started with a discussion of him) plays Lazarus, an old black man. Quite a stretch for Jackson to play. Lazarus lives by himself way out of town and grows vegetables to sell in town. Now I didn't think that in the 21st century people could still grow produce to sell in town and still hardscrabble out a real living, but apparently in rural Tennessee, you can. Lazarus finds Rae, cleans her up and is about to let her go on her way, when she does what she does whenever she is in the presence of a man and she catches 'the fever.' She strips down, makes googly-eyes at the old man and offers to pay back his kindness with a roll in the sack. Lazarus is astonished and appalled. And that is when he realizes that he must cure her sickness. So he chains her to his radiator in his house.
Thus we get to the controversial element of this movie. I seem to be seeing movies lately that have caused a stir. People protested at some showing of this movie because it depicts an old black man chaining up a pretty young white woman. This image is offensive on so many levels. But as preposterous as all of this sounds, the movie made it all seem plausible. Anyway, eventually Rae stops acting so crazy. Lazarus takes the chain off, buys her some real clothes, they go out for a night on the town and in the process both soften a little and they connect on some level wherein they now have an understanding of each other's internal pain.
Timberlake flames out at boot camp, something about his personal demons won't allow him to shoot a gun. He comes home, and misunderstanding the relationship Rae and Lazarus have developed, he threatens violence. Rae and Lazarus' relationship is purely platonic, but you can see why Timberlake would jump to the wrong conclusions given her previous behavior. The movie ends with no solid conclusion. There is no sappy - everyone's demons are exorcised - ending. I guess the message is, we all have to find someone to love and who loves us regardless of our demons.
It was a good movie. Catch it now that it is on DVD. But it didn't exactly live up to my expectations. I think this director, Carl Brewer is his name incidentally, just scraped the surface of the emotions and drama necessary to correctly portray the story he was trying to tell. Christina Ricci does get naked quite a bit, so it does have that going for it.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Rae's mother is played by Kim Richards. Don't know the name? She was the little girl in the old Disney flick, "Escape from Witch Mountain." Carl Brewer had lusted after the actress since that movie was made and he was determined to have her in his movie. I just think that is cool. And creepy.
Matthew
I like Samuel L. Jackson. I think that he is a great actor. I could watch his performance in "Pulp Fiction," all day. And I have been taking notice of him ever since he first appeared in "Goodfellas." Don't remember him in "Goodfellas?" Watch it again. He's in there. But lately, he, like other actors I have mentioned in this blog, has been resting on his laurels. And the past two movies he has been in have to do with snakes. Now that is just typecasting. I'm not going to review "Snakes on a Plane." I saw it. I thought that it was kind of dumb. Not much dumber than any other movies in the genre, but dumber than the movies I feel like writing about.
I just watched "Black Snake Moan." Mostly because I heard that it had a naked Christina Ricci in it, as well as Sam Jackson. The previews of the movie made the movie seem like it would be an old south, funky voodoo vibe kind of movie. And it was. A lot of blues music in the soundtrack and all the main characters had devils and demons in their minds. It was sensual and dark. The movie was written and directed by the same guy who wrote and directed "Hustle and Flow." So it came with pedigree.
The plot revolves around Christina Ricci playing Rae, a small-southern-town slut. Sorry for that bad word there, but really there is no other way to describe her. When she is drunk or high, she writhes on the ground, 'gets the fever', and has sex with whatever man is around. Easy to see what her demon is. A pretty, trashy, southern, young girl who has sex indiscriminately = child abuse. The movie reveals that truth as the plot develops. She keeps her demon at bay as long as her man, Justin Timberlake, is in town. Wait. How did he get in here? Yeah, Mr. Timberlake is playing a young man who intends to join the army, who is currently shacking up permanent-like with Ricci.
Anyway, Timberlake goes off to Memphis or somewhere to undergo basic training. Leaving Rae alone by herself. Well, you know no good will come of that. Rae parties with friends, drinks, takes drugs, loses her clothes and has sex. Later a friend of Justin Timberlake is driving a still addled Ricci home and he starts to get stirrings in his loins. Naturally he forgets what a good friend he is to Timberlake and makes a move on Ricci. Ricci is aware enough to reject him (this guy should have started his moves sooner) and he beats her up and throws her out of his truck on the side of the road.
Samuel L. Jackson (remember him, this blog entry started with a discussion of him) plays Lazarus, an old black man. Quite a stretch for Jackson to play. Lazarus lives by himself way out of town and grows vegetables to sell in town. Now I didn't think that in the 21st century people could still grow produce to sell in town and still hardscrabble out a real living, but apparently in rural Tennessee, you can. Lazarus finds Rae, cleans her up and is about to let her go on her way, when she does what she does whenever she is in the presence of a man and she catches 'the fever.' She strips down, makes googly-eyes at the old man and offers to pay back his kindness with a roll in the sack. Lazarus is astonished and appalled. And that is when he realizes that he must cure her sickness. So he chains her to his radiator in his house.
Thus we get to the controversial element of this movie. I seem to be seeing movies lately that have caused a stir. People protested at some showing of this movie because it depicts an old black man chaining up a pretty young white woman. This image is offensive on so many levels. But as preposterous as all of this sounds, the movie made it all seem plausible. Anyway, eventually Rae stops acting so crazy. Lazarus takes the chain off, buys her some real clothes, they go out for a night on the town and in the process both soften a little and they connect on some level wherein they now have an understanding of each other's internal pain.
Timberlake flames out at boot camp, something about his personal demons won't allow him to shoot a gun. He comes home, and misunderstanding the relationship Rae and Lazarus have developed, he threatens violence. Rae and Lazarus' relationship is purely platonic, but you can see why Timberlake would jump to the wrong conclusions given her previous behavior. The movie ends with no solid conclusion. There is no sappy - everyone's demons are exorcised - ending. I guess the message is, we all have to find someone to love and who loves us regardless of our demons.
It was a good movie. Catch it now that it is on DVD. But it didn't exactly live up to my expectations. I think this director, Carl Brewer is his name incidentally, just scraped the surface of the emotions and drama necessary to correctly portray the story he was trying to tell. Christina Ricci does get naked quite a bit, so it does have that going for it.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Rae's mother is played by Kim Richards. Don't know the name? She was the little girl in the old Disney flick, "Escape from Witch Mountain." Carl Brewer had lusted after the actress since that movie was made and he was determined to have her in his movie. I just think that is cool. And creepy.
Matthew
Friday, January 16, 2009
Speaking of Cox
A seminal line from "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," from Sarah after she has been informed that her TV show has been cancelled.
"Seemingly, the only actresses that can survive are the ones that show their cooter and I refuse to that. Excuse me, but I have a little dignity."
She is speaking out against doing nudity in a film. And she is equating being nude with being a slut. The time has come to set the record straight about nudity in film. First off you don't "do nudity," you just get naked. We have all been naked throughout our lives. There is no loss of dignity in being naked. And nakedness doesn't have to be about sex. I am naked everyday and I'm not having sex. I bathe daily. Being naked is a daily normal occurrance. So nakedness isn't always about sex and it isn't undignified. I recognize that we are in a society with prudish values. I understand that we shouldn't go walking around buck naked. Clothing serves quite well in our quest to protect ourselves from the elements. But being naked is a part of life. Films show all aspects of our lives. But somehow filmmakers have decided that nudity is the one thing they can't show. Or when it is shown it must be so limited or in such a distant shot, or filmed in such a way as to make it difficult to discern particulars. Nudity is labeled bad. There is plenty of bad in films. Certainly there are bad films; judgement of some films may be subjective, but there are objectively bad films. "Dan in Real Life," comes to mind. There are bad things in films: dismembered bodies, scenes of incest, racist depictions of ethnic groups, etc. But is nudity really the worst thing that they can display?
It is the recent incarnation of the ratings board that brought all this on. I remember in my youth seeing a PG rated movie called, "Hair." Argue the merits of that particular movie, if you will, but even back then a PG rated movie could display Beverly D'Angelo boobs. Even R rated movies have fallen under the ax of the resurgent prudishness. R rated movies made today aren't allowed to show nearly the amount or the extent of the nudity offered in such classics as, "Porky's." As I referenced before, shots with any actor being even partially naked are shot in such a manner that the camera shot distracts from the fluidity of the film. The camera pans through the bedroom at shoulder height level, displaying the full extent of the room - ceiling to floor - and then either zooms in to an actress's face only or suddenly drops its height to floor level and dips behind a chair back or side table leg or in some way obstructs the vision of the camera. Or, and this is not realistic in any sense, the actress gets out of bed at right angles - feet hit floor, and the sheet falls away to reveal a perfectly perpendicular flat space of the back. Who the hell gets out of bed in such a manner? The effect is jarring. The whole film is shot in realistic settings and angles, until it is time to show actors in situations where certain body parts may be seen. These actors are all self-conscious. The society has made them so.
Again, nudity = bad. I get it. The sickness extends beyond the actors themselves. The internet is ablaze with websites which exist for no other reason than to catch stars, or even non-stars (Paris Hilton/any Kardashian), naked. Gonzo photographers go to great lengths to shoot pictures of sideboob, internet sites exclaim that they have the shots, advertisers support the internet sites and encourage the photographer's behavior. And the stars feel stalked and violated and cheap. Nudity, in any form, becomes nasty. So actors refuse to ever be filmed naked. They don't want to be considered undignified.
Let's examine this. One bedroom scene where the actress didn't freak out about being naked and where the camera pan didn't have a jarring effect was in the movie "The English Patient," a movie made in 1996, starring actors all well respected for their craft. It won a total of nine academy awards, including Best Picture. Hardly a smutty, disreputable film. The scene is Ralph Fiennes and Kristin Scott Thomas lying around in bed, making cute, post-coital small talk. Ralph Fiennes absent-mindedly draws circles with his finger on Kristin Scott Thomas's belly. Kristin Scott Thomas unselfconsciously displays her upper torso. She languidly revels in her lover's presence. She is comfortable, even blissful. It is as if the film is being shot with the unacknowledged fourth wall. The actors are acting as if the cameras aren't there. Which is how films are supposed to be shot. Thus no jarring, self-aware, discordant body movements to avoid exposure nor swooping camera pans to avoid "inappropriate" displays.
All actors, if they are serious about acting, must be just as comfortable with themselves. Martin Sheen in an episode of "Inside the Actor's Studio," explains the true exposure that an actor must be able to commit to. He relays the story of when his father died. He was away, New York I believe, and not nearby when his father died. His siblings took care of the particulars of planning the funeral and he said that he would arrive late, but still make it to the wake and the funeral. Well, complications ensued and planes were late, the result being that he could not attend the funeral of his own father. There was no animosity between he and his father. He loved his father very much and was sorry that he couldn't pay his last respects. Life continued at its usual hurried pace and he never really in his mind got a chance to say goodbye. Some time later he was in a movie and there was a scene where he had to display deep sorrow. The director shot and re-shot the scene, but just couldn't get the right feeling out of Martin. He approached Martin with his concerns and asked if Martin could reach a little deeper into himself and bring out true emotion. Martin reassessed what he was giving out and how better to really act. And he told the director "Okay, I'm going to do this one time, so you better get the shot." And Martin called out from within his own subconscious all the emotions he had sublimated about the death of his father. Sheen let out all the anguish and sorrow he felt. He finally mourned the loss of his dad. To expose that much, to have that private a moment shared and permanently captured on film, is far more intimate than having your naked body filmed.
The current standard is that if you want to be taken seriously, you would never allow yourself to be talked into "doing movie nudity." What self-respecting actress would allow herself to be filmed nude? Helen Mirren, Helen Hunt, Halle Barre, Diane Keaton, Charlize Theron, Jessica Lange, Barbra Hershey, Meryl Streep, Anne Hatheway, Sally Fields, Kathy Bates. Oscar winners and respected actresses. You will be taken seriously if you do serious, good work, if you have respect for your craft. You add to your range of expression by not discounting nudity. Your job as an actor or actress is to expose yourself. All of yourself. Your humiliation in third grade. Your joy at the birth of your child. The loss of loved ones. The craft calls on actors to express all their privacy. All of it. Every aspect, including the body. There can be self-consciousness in acting. There can be no restraint.
In another part of his interview on "Inside the Actor's Studio," Martin Sheen reflects on his most infamous nude scene. The one in "Apocalypse Now." He had not been feeling well during the scene. He had wrestled these demons before and he thought "Maybe I should go here again. It is the search for a transcendent experience." He started doing some karate moves and he misjudged the distance to the mirror. He cracked the mirror and cut his thumb pretty deep. Francis Ford Coppala tried to stop the scene, but Martin Sheen was into something deeply personal. He had the demon by the throat and he was not going to let it go. For his own sake. And he said, "No. Let me have this." As the scene went on and on, Martin got more into his personal pain, into the guilt that he had been carrying. That should be the only concern of a true actor. How best to express the nature and feel of the scene. There should be no awareness of the camera, no awareness of the fourth wall.
Another actor, Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame, famously did a nude scene. On stage this time instead of on film. This kid obviously has a profitable franchise. Financially there is no impetus to extend beyond his comfort zone. There is no call for exposing himself. But a true actor desires to act. To take on a challenge. To explore his psyche. He relates that it was far more emotionally daunting to play his part in 'Equus,' in the clothed scenes versus the nude scene. "Doing it naked, you take on a vulnerability" He dismisses having qualms about the nude scene. "If you take the job, you take everything that comes with it."
Refusing to expose every part of yourself on screen is infantile and a repudiation of the nobility of the craft of acting. If the audience only shows up out of prurient interest, that is their issue. This is a call for actors to just do their job. Well. Completely. Unabashedly.
So tying this tirade to the title of the blog. Jason Segal, John C. Reilly (or whoever that was in "Dewey Cox"), and yes, even Will Farrell (see Old School), stay true to their craft, even if it is just comedy. They have all committed to doing what is necessary to perfectly convey the needs of the scene and the movies they are in. Can Hollywood start producing movies that are unashamed of the actors' bodies? Can the ratings board mature in their definition of what is appropriate viewing for adults? Can actors let go of their inhibitions and their stilted misconception of the indignity of nudity in film? Can nudity become as accepted in film as blood and dismemberment and other true indignities?
Matthew
"Seemingly, the only actresses that can survive are the ones that show their cooter and I refuse to that. Excuse me, but I have a little dignity."
She is speaking out against doing nudity in a film. And she is equating being nude with being a slut. The time has come to set the record straight about nudity in film. First off you don't "do nudity," you just get naked. We have all been naked throughout our lives. There is no loss of dignity in being naked. And nakedness doesn't have to be about sex. I am naked everyday and I'm not having sex. I bathe daily. Being naked is a daily normal occurrance. So nakedness isn't always about sex and it isn't undignified. I recognize that we are in a society with prudish values. I understand that we shouldn't go walking around buck naked. Clothing serves quite well in our quest to protect ourselves from the elements. But being naked is a part of life. Films show all aspects of our lives. But somehow filmmakers have decided that nudity is the one thing they can't show. Or when it is shown it must be so limited or in such a distant shot, or filmed in such a way as to make it difficult to discern particulars. Nudity is labeled bad. There is plenty of bad in films. Certainly there are bad films; judgement of some films may be subjective, but there are objectively bad films. "Dan in Real Life," comes to mind. There are bad things in films: dismembered bodies, scenes of incest, racist depictions of ethnic groups, etc. But is nudity really the worst thing that they can display?
It is the recent incarnation of the ratings board that brought all this on. I remember in my youth seeing a PG rated movie called, "Hair." Argue the merits of that particular movie, if you will, but even back then a PG rated movie could display Beverly D'Angelo boobs. Even R rated movies have fallen under the ax of the resurgent prudishness. R rated movies made today aren't allowed to show nearly the amount or the extent of the nudity offered in such classics as, "Porky's." As I referenced before, shots with any actor being even partially naked are shot in such a manner that the camera shot distracts from the fluidity of the film. The camera pans through the bedroom at shoulder height level, displaying the full extent of the room - ceiling to floor - and then either zooms in to an actress's face only or suddenly drops its height to floor level and dips behind a chair back or side table leg or in some way obstructs the vision of the camera. Or, and this is not realistic in any sense, the actress gets out of bed at right angles - feet hit floor, and the sheet falls away to reveal a perfectly perpendicular flat space of the back. Who the hell gets out of bed in such a manner? The effect is jarring. The whole film is shot in realistic settings and angles, until it is time to show actors in situations where certain body parts may be seen. These actors are all self-conscious. The society has made them so.
Again, nudity = bad. I get it. The sickness extends beyond the actors themselves. The internet is ablaze with websites which exist for no other reason than to catch stars, or even non-stars (Paris Hilton/any Kardashian), naked. Gonzo photographers go to great lengths to shoot pictures of sideboob, internet sites exclaim that they have the shots, advertisers support the internet sites and encourage the photographer's behavior. And the stars feel stalked and violated and cheap. Nudity, in any form, becomes nasty. So actors refuse to ever be filmed naked. They don't want to be considered undignified.
Let's examine this. One bedroom scene where the actress didn't freak out about being naked and where the camera pan didn't have a jarring effect was in the movie "The English Patient," a movie made in 1996, starring actors all well respected for their craft. It won a total of nine academy awards, including Best Picture. Hardly a smutty, disreputable film. The scene is Ralph Fiennes and Kristin Scott Thomas lying around in bed, making cute, post-coital small talk. Ralph Fiennes absent-mindedly draws circles with his finger on Kristin Scott Thomas's belly. Kristin Scott Thomas unselfconsciously displays her upper torso. She languidly revels in her lover's presence. She is comfortable, even blissful. It is as if the film is being shot with the unacknowledged fourth wall. The actors are acting as if the cameras aren't there. Which is how films are supposed to be shot. Thus no jarring, self-aware, discordant body movements to avoid exposure nor swooping camera pans to avoid "inappropriate" displays.
All actors, if they are serious about acting, must be just as comfortable with themselves. Martin Sheen in an episode of "Inside the Actor's Studio," explains the true exposure that an actor must be able to commit to. He relays the story of when his father died. He was away, New York I believe, and not nearby when his father died. His siblings took care of the particulars of planning the funeral and he said that he would arrive late, but still make it to the wake and the funeral. Well, complications ensued and planes were late, the result being that he could not attend the funeral of his own father. There was no animosity between he and his father. He loved his father very much and was sorry that he couldn't pay his last respects. Life continued at its usual hurried pace and he never really in his mind got a chance to say goodbye. Some time later he was in a movie and there was a scene where he had to display deep sorrow. The director shot and re-shot the scene, but just couldn't get the right feeling out of Martin. He approached Martin with his concerns and asked if Martin could reach a little deeper into himself and bring out true emotion. Martin reassessed what he was giving out and how better to really act. And he told the director "Okay, I'm going to do this one time, so you better get the shot." And Martin called out from within his own subconscious all the emotions he had sublimated about the death of his father. Sheen let out all the anguish and sorrow he felt. He finally mourned the loss of his dad. To expose that much, to have that private a moment shared and permanently captured on film, is far more intimate than having your naked body filmed.
The current standard is that if you want to be taken seriously, you would never allow yourself to be talked into "doing movie nudity." What self-respecting actress would allow herself to be filmed nude? Helen Mirren, Helen Hunt, Halle Barre, Diane Keaton, Charlize Theron, Jessica Lange, Barbra Hershey, Meryl Streep, Anne Hatheway, Sally Fields, Kathy Bates. Oscar winners and respected actresses. You will be taken seriously if you do serious, good work, if you have respect for your craft. You add to your range of expression by not discounting nudity. Your job as an actor or actress is to expose yourself. All of yourself. Your humiliation in third grade. Your joy at the birth of your child. The loss of loved ones. The craft calls on actors to express all their privacy. All of it. Every aspect, including the body. There can be self-consciousness in acting. There can be no restraint.
In another part of his interview on "Inside the Actor's Studio," Martin Sheen reflects on his most infamous nude scene. The one in "Apocalypse Now." He had not been feeling well during the scene. He had wrestled these demons before and he thought "Maybe I should go here again. It is the search for a transcendent experience." He started doing some karate moves and he misjudged the distance to the mirror. He cracked the mirror and cut his thumb pretty deep. Francis Ford Coppala tried to stop the scene, but Martin Sheen was into something deeply personal. He had the demon by the throat and he was not going to let it go. For his own sake. And he said, "No. Let me have this." As the scene went on and on, Martin got more into his personal pain, into the guilt that he had been carrying. That should be the only concern of a true actor. How best to express the nature and feel of the scene. There should be no awareness of the camera, no awareness of the fourth wall.
Another actor, Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame, famously did a nude scene. On stage this time instead of on film. This kid obviously has a profitable franchise. Financially there is no impetus to extend beyond his comfort zone. There is no call for exposing himself. But a true actor desires to act. To take on a challenge. To explore his psyche. He relates that it was far more emotionally daunting to play his part in 'Equus,' in the clothed scenes versus the nude scene. "Doing it naked, you take on a vulnerability" He dismisses having qualms about the nude scene. "If you take the job, you take everything that comes with it."
Refusing to expose every part of yourself on screen is infantile and a repudiation of the nobility of the craft of acting. If the audience only shows up out of prurient interest, that is their issue. This is a call for actors to just do their job. Well. Completely. Unabashedly.
So tying this tirade to the title of the blog. Jason Segal, John C. Reilly (or whoever that was in "Dewey Cox"), and yes, even Will Farrell (see Old School), stay true to their craft, even if it is just comedy. They have all committed to doing what is necessary to perfectly convey the needs of the scene and the movies they are in. Can Hollywood start producing movies that are unashamed of the actors' bodies? Can the ratings board mature in their definition of what is appropriate viewing for adults? Can actors let go of their inhibitions and their stilted misconception of the indignity of nudity in film? Can nudity become as accepted in film as blood and dismemberment and other true indignities?
Matthew
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
