Are You a Replican or a Replicant?

Ridley Scott, you will never make sense to me. Knowing when to quit? Not you. I hope I can see this in a theater, what with the 8000 Lines per Frame F/X restoration. I like my eyes, and I want to like, even more, the way they see.













Ambiguity, however, seems to find itself only in your post-post-post production mentality, and not, sadly, where it belongs.

Dubbed

Even knowing full well that Ebert has marked his return with heaps of praise upon numerous films the likes of which might just indicate his elation to be back at work rather than indicating their own actual greatness (time will tell, but many will disagree with his assessment of Shoot 'Em Up. Not me, though), I'm still thrilled that his trumpeting of the Meso-American Triad is in full-swing.

After this, we must still wait impatiently for his review of Children of Men.

Now, Iñárritu is my least favorite of the three. Del Toro and Cuarón don't constrain themselves with a "hyperlink" narrative structure, and yet, I think Iñárritu probably achieved as much as he could with the plot(s) of Babel, a film I loved much more than 21 Grams. There's a palpable, yet undeniably mystical connection between the different threads comprising the third of his trilogy, a giant strength this time around. Babel builds on the possibilities of this structure instead of relying on it. Few recent films have achieved this kind of metaphysics. It's tempting to believe that Iñárritu has found what he was searching for.

Ebert's review of Babel lends ink to almost everything I was unable to articulate about it. Even if you weren't blown away by the film, you should read the above review, solely because it's an example of criticism achieving power all on its own. It evokes a movie that either you still haven't seen, or possibly, you saw but still haven't seen. It's the best thing Ebert's written since his illness. Don't believe me? Wait until the last sentence.

Didn't He/She Forget 'Pansexual'?

I'm all postin' with the computer on my belly. This is unusual for me, but readers, my belly is a tad less buoyant than it was a few months after I purchased my computer, pretty little gateway into a pretty little sedentary lifestyle that my Macintosh was. For now, I know of nothing more to report, save that I must find a better job (full-time would be good), base of operations, car, set of prospects (of all the type you'd imagine me looking for), a little energon, and a lot of luck.

There would be more to post, blast it, were it not for my one foot in the doldrums and one foot lord knows elsewhere, but that's the extent of the poetry in it, for now.

Switch Bitch: The Kingdom (Riget) - Series II

Closer before Closer was Closer: The Passion of Anna

Wow. Just. Wow.

My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult

Here's a link to my latest set, The Derridiculous Ghettoblaster.

Janie asked me to rattle off some copy for her whenever the fancy bit me, so I chose to do a track-by-track commentary at her bitchin' Noise pad, upon the unveiling of the set.

Big thanks to her for hosting me and servicing my DJ Ego, and big thanks to Holly for evangelizing the sounds to a new and sophisticated crowd.

The Adam Freeland influence (his DJ work more than his production work, really) has always weighed heavily on my choices, and I'm glad to say that where the proper music goes, I can only follow. It's really the most fun I can have without taking my clothes off. Most of you are luckier for that, eh?

Good News, Everyone!

Non-Post, but it's been ten years, and the man's back.

Heads or Tails

Toronto's shiny right now, and the more I read these, the more apoplectic I become, for I am very, very far from there.

Oh, to be credentialed, throttled from theater to theater, borne back ceaselessly into the raisinettes, and heedlessly transformed by what is all very much happening right now. This is a strong year.

When the time comes, I follow the Cannes Festival and Telluride (it would be fun to go, but no biggie if that never happens). I generally could care less about Sundance's Little-Indie-Shitfit-of-Sexually-Confused-Adolescents-and-Semi
-Adolescents-Discovering-Themselves-And/Or
-Learning-A-Valuable-Lesson-Doggerollcall. (Or LISOSCASADTAOLAVLD, as it's otherwise known), though I know for a fact I'm being unfair to many good films that have premiered there.

None of these festivals urge me towards the light quite like Toronto. Telluride's a close second. Either way, what I'm getting at here, is any one of 'em would be a great beat to cover. Great beat.

Mighty Fine Pickin' an' a Dingin': Spoon - Gimme Fiction

Everything's Gonna Be Just Fine: Burner of Corpses - Fuks

Love, Blood and Rhetoric: Hamlet (Branagh)