HBO, Where Art Thou?

I have a well documented love affair with the works of Cormac McCarthy, and just found out today that HBO has produced, and is currently playing, an adaptation of The Sunset Limited (link contains spoilers), a two-person play written by McCarthy. I posted about it here. The adaptation stars Tommy Lee Jones and Samuel L. Jackson. If any kind and loving soul out there in my community has HBO, please invite me over. I'll bring the popcorn.

Strange Powers

I'll be seeing this when it comes to town (sometime, a long time from now).




BONUS:

The Shins: Strange Powers (Magnetic Fields cover)

Where The Wild Things Are - a film review

(There are Spoilers ahead, of course. And I apologize for the long windedness. The Cliff’s Notes version of this review is that overall, for me, the film was only pretty good, though extremely beautiful to look at. There. You can move your Reader along now.)

Christy and I finally got to go see Where The Wild Things Are a few weeks ago. We were pretty excited about it. How could you not be with that trailer? The Arcade Fire song, Wake Up, which is featured in the preview quickly became one of my favorite songs when it was released years ago and, despite being borderline melodramatic, the song captures the wistful regret of our lost inner-child. “Something filled up my heart with nothing. Someone told me not to cry. But now that I’m older my heart is colder, and I can see that it’s a lie. Children, wake up! Hold your mistake up, before they turn the summer into dust. If the children don’t grow up, our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. We’re just a million little gods causing rainstorms, turning every good thing to rust. I guess we’ll just have to adjust.” See? The lyrics aren’t speaking to ten year-olds here. They are speaking to the dormant child within the adult who has forgotten how to dream and how to trust instinct and feeling. We age, we get calloused, we scab, and as a result we make the mistake of repressing the better nature of our inner-child. So, children, wake up! Hold your mistake up! Before it’s too late.

And that should have been clue number one that WTWTA was not going to be primarily a children’s movie (as it was marketed to be). We had planned to take our three-year-old, and after reading one review decided against it (thankfully). Visually the film is amazing. Spike Jonze gets such unique imagery in all his work and there are no false steps here in terms of cinematography (like I’m an expert, right?). The soundtrack, by Karen O, is marvelous, including a particularly touching rendition of the Daniel Johnston tune, "Worried Shoes." Spot on voice work from every single one of the Wild Things (James Gandolfini, Catherine O’Hara, Forrest Whittaker, Lauren Ambrose, Chris Cooper, Paul Dano). All nail it perfectly. Max himself (played by namesake Max Records) did a superb acting job as well. Catherine Keener is golden in her role, and for me her interactions with Max were so meaningful they overshadowed every other relationship in the film. There is one little moment in particular when Max is camped out on his back underneath his Mom’s desk at home. She is making phone calls and by all accounts seems to be an expert at juggling both motherly and professional duties. Max isn’t begging for her attention at this point, but he wants it. He reaches over to her foot and tenderly tugs on the toe of her nylon and they exchange this mother-son look that carries all the humanity you might ever hope to catch on film. Yet in the end the film lacked enough of these moments, and it’s been hard to put my finger on exactly why.

I liked the film, but I expected to love it, and I did not love it. The film’s setup was terrific. From the opening scene until Max gets to where the wild things are (and even for a little while afterwards) the film is strong. But then I went over some emotional drop off, and couldn't ever quite return. My best guess is that the writing was a bit too cryptic, and some of the metaphor was a bit too heavy handed. Christy told me on the way home (and I agree with her) that she couldn’t stop asking herself “What does that symbolize?” which ultimately became distracting. On NPR Spike Jonze mentioned that every one of the Wild Things represented an emotion. Emotions, especially for kids, are tricky to deal with and a lot of my frustration in the movie stemmed from seeing Max deal with his emotions just as one might expect—like a child. Symbolically, his relationships with these wild emotions make sense, but the balancing act on screen doesn’t play out so graceful (and no doubt certainly wasn’t meant to, yet that doesn’t invalidate my frustration). The owls “Bob and Terry” are also a bit of a mystery. My guess is that they were a clunky similitude of the real life relationships that Max doesn’t understand, or perhaps doesn’t want to understand (ie: his mother’s boyfriend, bosses, and his sister’s friends). The thrust of the middle section of the movie deals with Max's efforts in this dream, wherein he is a king with the ability to do whatever he wants, to construct (literally) a perfect world. The old Utopia concept. But he ultimately fails, and after all hell breaks loose with the Wild Things he comes to the very real-life conclusion that no such world is possible. It is the other side of the “Wake Up” dichotomy -- that in our inevitable coming-of-age we wake up to the fact that life is hard, and death is real, and there are lots of hard questions and nauseatingly few easy answers. Interestingly enough, when Max discovers this he is not only better equipped to deal with his “real world” but he actually longs to go back. I felt that the ending, much like the beginning, was strong.

My little 3 year old, Gus, loves the book. When we read it together, there are certain phrases that I’m allowed to say, and certain phrases that only he is allowed to say. When Max is being sassy with his mom he lays down a threat, “I’ll eat you up”. Gus delivers the line with sinister eyebrows and a smile. Later on we get to my favorite, and most telling moment in our little exchange. Max’s reign as king has come to and end and it is time for him to go. His threat from the beginning of the book now morphs into an expression of compassion and longing. I let it out like a sad wild thing, “Please don’t go, we’ll eat you up, we love you so”. And Gus delivers Max’s reply with a curt, matter-of-fact, and almost hopeful, “No.”

Kids are resilient and adaptable (“I guess we’ll just have to adjust”). They need to be loved like all the world, and it should be shown and expressed often. But they don’t need to be pandered to. And adults certainly don’t either. WTWTA, despite its hangups, does not do that.

Let The Wild Rumpus Start

I'm so excited for this film. I love this book. I love Spike Jonze. And in some beautiful way the trailers for this film give me more faith in humanity. All you artists that are out there creating, and being active, and peeling off the scales from our eyes, thank you. Isn't this life amazing?

Lynchian

What is David Lynch up to these days besides making really weird films, you ask? Well, let me tell you. He's up to Interview Project. Over the course of a twenty thousand mile road trip his crew would stop at random and talk to the men and women of this great nation. There is a fascinating humanity on display in these vignettes (uploaded for your viewing pleasure at the rate of one per day. I suppose any life is worth considering for at least that long).

The Road

One of the great novels of the decade, The Road by Cormac McCarthy, was recently adapted for film.  It's actually been in the can for a while but has been sitting on the shelf for various reasons.  When the project was announced I was immediately worried that Hollywood would hack it up into little pieces and sell it as some awful cousin to I Am Legend.  But after seeing that it was going to be directed by John Hillcoat, who brilliantly directed The Proposition (one of the best movies you should never see), I had a spark of hope.  This book, despite the darkness, the sadness, the unflinching portrayal of the putrid side of humanity, also increased my faith in the power of love.  It didn't hurt that I read it as a brand new father.  Then this weekend, the trailer came out, and I'm disappointed again.  It looks more like an action movie than the deliberately, steadily, and intensely, yea even unbearably heartbreaking, and quite often suspensefully rolling forward story that plays out in the book.  As the saying goes: "Movies.  Ruining the book since 1920."  

Actually.  I still have hope.  Many are saying this trailer is a hack job conjured by the production company to put tails in seats.  And Esquire is trying to put it in league with The Godfather. So...we'll see.

Thanks to Kirk for nonchalantly showing me the trailer, after my having religiously checked IMDB for months. 

Slumdog Millionaire

Saw it.  Liked it.

The War

On Sunday PBS began airing the new Ken Burns documentary entitled "The War". It is a fourteen hour epic that looks at World War II through the experiences of townspeople in four different U.S. cities. Christy and I have been fascinated at the experiences of these soldiers and citizens and it has been humbling to see the love, community, and humanity stacked alongside the violence, death, and inhumanity. I'm not a student of the war, so I've learned a lot through this birds eye view presentation. The Bataan Death March, The Battle of Guadalcanal, and the sacrifices at home by Rosie the Riveter to produce the equipment necessary to win the war.

Go to PBS.org to see read more about the documentary. Go to NPR.org to hear Ken Burns talk about the making of the film.

King of Kong

On its opening weekend we decided to go and check out what we thought might be a fun and quirky documentary called "King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters." It turned out to be the most enjoyable movie-going experience I've had this year (although granted, we don't see a lot of movies). The trailer is okay, but doesn't really do the movie justice. I was prepared to be amused, but I wasn't prepared for the bizzare personas, the drama, the conspiracy, and the humanity that we saw. This is a true good guy versus bad guy story that my wife and I talked about many times in the days following. Go see this film. What is on the line? World Records. Kill screens. The livelihood of a family. Gaming history. Your own chumpatization.

If Not a Country, then What?

During the course of the last year I've devoured six Cormac McCarthy novels...and it seems he is all I ever talk about on the blog. He is a master, without question. Earlier this year I created this post about the book that the Coen Brothers have now adapted into film. My friend Nick didn't like this book as much as I did (and granted it isn't one of McCarthy's masterpieces--yes, he has more than one) but it is a story that is perfectly adaptable to the Coen's film noir. The bad guy in this story is played by Javier Bardem, who also did the Sea Inside, and critics are raving about his performance in the film. And Tommy Lee Jones? You can't go wrong with him, unless you're making a really bad Batman film.

Into the Wild

It's been a few years since I read Jon Krakauer's account of the misadventures of Chris McCandless (Alex Supertramp). It was one of those books that occupied my thoughts for days after I'd finished it. There was romance in the journey of this young man. His quest for enlightenment went beyond simplification, beyond masochism. However misguided and extreme, I really sympathized with some of the ideals that consumed him.

Now we will be able to watch Into the Wild play out on the silver screen. Screenplay written and directed by Sean Penn and the soundtrack by Eddie Vedder. It will be interesting to see if the film will be able to dredge up the humanity the same way the book seemed to balance so well.

Release Date: September 21, 2007

The Interview

I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me to see a shy Cormac McCarthy, but it did. It wasn’t clear whether he was shy in general or just shy of the cameras and Oprah Winfrey. The interview was very short, and turned out to be one of three segments on Oprah’s hour long program yesterday. They did about the same amount of talking about The Road as they did about his life and the writing process in general. And that was fine with me, because since we have so few windows into McCarthy’s life and methodology any dialogue whatsoever is interesting. He just seems so ordinary. He could have been one of many neighbors of mine growing up in small town Idaho, or some guy you stand next to in line at the supermarket.

I particularly liked his description of the impetus for the book—his standing in an El Paso hotel room in the middle of the night while his four year old son sleeps on the bed, and him looking out the window wondering what kind of future they may be slouching towards. The Road seemed more hopeful than his other works, and that was very satisfying. The concept of “enduring” in the book is approached with a sense of urgency and reverence.

I turned to Christy at one point of the interview and said, “I hope that she asks him if he believes in God.” It matters to me to know. I was happy to hear Oprah ask whether he had “worked out the God thing or not yet.” His answer seemed very human to me, “It would depend on what day you ask me” he said as he lauged. I believe that God plays a role in all of his works, and seems to be constantly on trial, or at the very least tested in relation to the heinous situations his characters are in.

I liked what little interview we received, and only wanted more. It isn’t on YouTube yet, from what I can tell, but you can watch it by registering for the Oprah Book Club on her website.

In other McCarthy news, the Coen Brothers premiered their adaptation of Cormac’s novel No Country For Old Men at the Cannes Film Festival to good reviews, especially for Javier Bardem as lead bad guy Chigurh. Click the link below to view 5 clips of the film.

No Country For Old Men

Bob and Daniel and Daniel

Last week I watched three documentaries. Rockumentaries. Whatever. Bob Dylan - Don't Look Back, Danielson - A Family Movie, and The Devil and Daniel Johnston.

Don't Look Back is an interesting, and from what I understand classic, look at Bob Dylan. Undeniably an absoulte force and touchstone in the musical world. It is fascinating to see how wrapped up he is in his own persona (or frustrated by it?). He has the walls of defense raised so carefully that one cannot ask him a straightforward question without mockery, disclaimer, or getting it thrown back in their face somehow. Therefore his personality lends itself to good film and good drama.

Danielson - A Family Movie is a great look at an artist trying to figure out how to reconcile his art with his spirituality. This film isn't as multi-dimensional as the others, but it is exciting to see an artist in the middle of his artistry, getting ideas for projects and carrying them out with a particular vision. Though I'm not really a fan of Daniel Smith's vocal styling, nor his music for the most part, it was well worth the watch.

The film that was the most thought provoking for me was The Devil and Daniel Johnston. Each of these films felt very different from the other, and I enjoyed each in its own right, but this one displayed the whole package of Daniel's humanity in all its beauty, power, and sadness. I'm definately a late comer to this party, but enjoyed it so much. This is such a compelling story and at every turn Daniel Johnston threatens to spin to his demise. Wonderful peice of filmmaking.

This Divided State

The week "Fahrenheit 9/11" came out Christy and I went to see it. I was excited actually, because I have always been entertained by Moore’s documentaries. “Roger and Me” is funny, and Christy and I still quote parts of it (at one point Moore visits a Flint citizen who has resorted to raising rabbits as an added source of income…there is a sign in front of the house that says: Rabbits—pets or meat. Now that’s tragic comedy). “The Big One” was interesting, and in the end I liked it better than “Roger and Me.” I haven’t seen any episodes of “The Awful Truth”, but I did watch “Bowling for Columbine.” Anyone who knows me is aware that I enjoy competition rifle shooting. I am a believer in a citizen’s right to keep and bear arms, and believe that it is a natural extension of the inalienable rights spoken of in the Constitution. In Bowling for Columbine, were some cheap shots taken? Yes. Was some of it underhanded? Yes. Was there some manipulation? Yes. Were there a few “stretchers”? Yes. Did I laugh? YES. Was I threatened? No. In fact, I appreciated the film just because Moore was asking some very fascinating questions to his audience, questions to which we still need answers. Why the preoccupation with violence in America? Are gun rights the cause of current gun violence, or is the cause something bigger? What needs to change as a culture and a society in order for us to curb crimes committed with guns, and dare I say crime in general? This isn’t to say that I came to the same conclusions that Moore came to, but I realized where he was coming from and appreciated the questions.

He has an agenda. You’re a fool if you disagree. Is it a bad one? That is up to interpretation. Do I believe that he, in his heart of hearts, is trying to make our country better and assist them in seeing things from another perspective so as to generate some thoughtful debate and careful consideration of stance? Yes.

Now, when Christy and I walked out of Fahrenheit 9/11 we both had sick feelings in our stomachs. One could argue that either the subject matter sickened us, or the way it was presented sickened us. I’d say some of both. I didn’t feel it was an objective look at the Bush Administration, and I really didn’t expect it to be going in. On the other hand it pained me to see our Commander-in-Chief fumble around like a goofball and say some ridiculously callous statements. Through further investigation I learned what was in context, what what was taken out of context, what manipulations were occurring where, editing tricks, and all of the post-production emotional play. Parts of the film angered me and parts I felt were downright disrespectful, yet still other portions of the film I found revealing (in particular the segment on military recruitment).

A year ago when Michael Moore came to Orem, Utah to speak at UVSC the community was in upheaval. I had seen the controversial film, but unlike a few people here I didn’t think he was the Anti-Christ come to pervert the ways of our innocent little community. I didn’t go. I have close friends who did, and enjoyed it. There is a documentary feature that came out recently about the whole controversial visit, made by a former BYU student with liberal politics named Steven Greenstreet. The film is called “This Divided State,” and it is an entertaining look at the fiery sentiments that pervaded the community that week. It is pretty even-handed for the most part (it lacks a chunk of the moderate voice, but admittedly you only have an hour and a half—and seriously, what’s more compelling? Yup. Extremes.), and addresses a few of the issues that I raised in this blog. I enjoyed the film very much, and felt it was a slice of real American pie. It addresses those matters that divide us both as country and state, but personalizes things even more by addressing the political gap that causes disunity in the LDS religion. It unveils the dirty mask of intolerance, and ultimately plays out the disintegration of a relationship between two best friends. Though framed by the Michael Moore visit, love him or hate him, there are bigger things at play in this film, and I recommend it to anyone who might be interested.

A Country's Admiration

My wife makes fun of me because I used to pray for Eddie Vedder when I was in high school. Sure, I didn’t know the guy and may have been a tad obsessed with his music (is it unusual to decorate a Pearl Jam Christmas tree in the school Christmas tree lane?), but I know the prayers were sincere, and who knows, they may have contributed to the goodness of both “No Code” and “Yeild.” I haven’t sent one up on his behalf since, and won’t go into the flatness of both “Binaural” and “Riot Act.” COINCIDENCE? Ha!

I would also wear a T-shirt, in those days, which had that classic picture of Jim Morrison with arms outstretched. On the front a caption read “An American Poet 1943-1971.” I went several months there where all I listed to was the Doors and Led Zeppelin. One of those musical phases that I just had to go through. I believed my shirt, and would later laugh at myself after reading Phillip Levine, Anne Sexton, John Ashbury, Larry Levis…real American Poets. This isn’t meant to discount what Morrison created, because no doubt it means a lot to some people—just not to me anymore. But the music did certainly contribute to the stirring of certain sensibilities, even if it is now obsolete for me.

Not long ago the Discovery Channel aired a program called “The 100 Greatest Americans” in which the results were chosen by Americans themselves via an online polling process through their website. There are obvious inaccuracies in the sampling of such a pole, because you can immediately exclude the opinions of everyone 60 years and older because of the overwhelmingly large percentage that just aren’t online yet. Nevertheless here are some names that made the list: Benjamin Franklin, Abraham Lincoln, Frederick Douglass, JFK, Martin Luther King Jr. Surprised? How about: Michael Jackson, Tom Cruise, Brett Favre, Madonna, Hugh Heffner. Yup, all made the list. Mark Twain made the list, but no other authors (Steinbeck? Faulkner? Dickinson? Hemmingway?) In the end the list turned out to be the 100 Most Popular Americans.

The only reason I bring all these things up is because I watched a movie last night that got me thinking about who we esteem, why, and how that effects us. The movie was “Hud” starring the hunky Paul Newman, wherein he plays a reckless, unprincipled, womanizer who “doesn’t give a damn” about anything except himself. Part of the conflict in the movie is the influence Hud has on his nephew, Lonnie, and the audience wonders whether Lonnie will be sucked into his uncle’s loose-cannon lifestyle. At one point Hud’s dad approaches Lonnie with gravity and a strong caveat, “Little by little the look of the country changes because of the men we admire.”

This struck me as something entirely true. Oft times we think we only effect ourselves, but that’s a lie. I know, “No man is an island” blah, blah, blah….but really. It took a lot of guts for me to eventually throw out my Doors CD’s because I knew it was all just a bunch of bunk, and really didn’t inspire me poetically or otherwise. At the risk of judgement it also takes guts for me to keep the R rated “Stevie” and “Good Will Hunting” in my collection because they do inspire me. I just hope that I admire the people I do for good reasons, and that those reasons are causing the country to change little by little.

Movie Magic

I've been lazy this week, in terms of blogging, but I've been busy elsewhere. As many of you may or may not know (are there many of you?) I am in the midst of trying to make a film. What I hoped was a final draft of the script is about to enter into a rigorous, three-week rewrite process by an editor in LA. The business plan is virtually finished, and we are putting the finishing touches on an investment kit that should go out to printing here in the next few days. And inbetween putting those puzzle peices together, I am plodding forward on crafting a new story that will hopefully turn into a script over the course of the next five months.

I've often thought, "If Snoop Dogg can make a movie, so can I." We'll see. Perhaps Snoop is a gangsta of many talents and I'm just selling him short. But each time I go to the movie theatre and roll my eyes at the newest trailer for "Shark Boy and Lava Girl," I get the gusto I need to overcome my impatience with the movie industry beurocracy and trudge on.

Paramount Drifter

There’s nothing like going into a movie expecting an uncomfortable two hour bore-fest, and coming out pleasantly surprised and even a bit moved. At the risk of sounding like someone who wears pink shirts, lotion, and hair product I’m going to go ahead and say it: I liked The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. The premise was a little bit weird to me, but then again I’m not a girl, and I’ve never had a magic bond with any of my pants…except for maybe my “green jeans” but that is another story entirely.

Three of the four plot lines worked well for me, and the weak link wasn’t so bad as to ruin it for me. Don’t get me wrong, there were moments of cheesiness, and it was too long, but overall this is a good movie, and I will recommend it to anyone who got a lump in their throat at the end of My Life and Old Yeller. If you didn’t, then you’re better off sticking with Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

There are experiences you get in the theatre that you just can’t replicate at home. Right before the movie started there was a particularly scruffy looking drifter that sat down on our row a few seats to the right of Christy. We noted him because he was alone and outwardly didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would be taking in a PG teen chick flick. During a particularly touching moment, when tears were starting to well in Christy’s eyes we heard a loud discharge come from the drifter’s direction. Luckily we didn’t smell anything, but the sound was enough to break the mood. Later still, and at an equally inappropriate moment, he proceeded to yak on something, like a dog on a chicken bone, or a cat working a hairball.

When the movie was over a teen girl squad in front eyeballed us in a funny, accusatory way. Perhaps they thought we were the perpetrators.

I’m anxiously awaiting the sequel. I’m sure it will be as Little Men was to Little Women. They should call it, The Brotherhood of the Traveling Briefs.