"Damn we fucked up..."
[ drainpip ] | 10:20 PM | 1 comments
Thursday, August 24, 2006
hide
Turn my face to the wall
If she's gone I can't go on
Feeling two-foot small
Everywhere people stare
Each and every day
I can see them laugh at me
And I hear them say
Hey! you've got to hide your love away
Hey! you've got to hide your love away
How can I even try
I can never win
Hearing them, seeing them
In the state I'm in
How could she say to me
Love will find a way
Gather round all you clowns
Let me hear you say
Hey! you've got to hide your love away
Hey! you've got to hide your love away
of course, The Beatles
[ drainpip ] | 10:39 PM | 4 comments
Monday, August 21, 2006
hmm...
Anyway, weekend roll call.
So Friday as promised, we got blitzed and went to see Snakes on a Plane. This is the only way you can watch this film. Trust me. Don't go see it with a matinee audience. Go to the last show - drunk. You'll love it for what it is. Especially if you're an afficianado of such stupid dribe. It was exactly what I thought it was going to be, ie. hilariously dumb. I don't think there was a single moment that it took itself seriously, which is a damn good thing.
I got home from the show about 12:45 and popped in the last two episodes of Carnivale season 2. It took me longer to get into Season 2, it seemed to start off stuttering a little, then about halfway through the season everything gelled together and I became addicted. Seeing the end of this one pissed me off thoroughly considering the size of the cliff I'm not hanging off of, but hey - can't win 'em all. For those that don't know, the show was cancelled due to it's production value dollars and only moderate - but steady - following.
Unfortunately, there were bad vibes about an hour following this. I went to sleep then was almost immediately woken up by my weird roomate. He was drunk off his ass and talking at the top of his lungs. He burst into my other roomies room while he was sleeping - this is the second time he's done this. So I woke up (note to everyone out there, don't wake me up unless there's a damn good reason for it, I will be upset) furious and told him to leave the house to sober up in a very pissed off way. He flipped out and caused a huge scene on the front porch, kicking in the security door. All kinds of fun shit... he finally disappeared. Luckily, I didn't have to see him until yesterday evening, and he was silent about the whole thing.
So I didn't go back to sleep from there... I was worried he would do something stupid, but he didn't. Regardless, when I looked at the clock when I realized the sun was coming out and saw 5:43, I decided to just take a shower and head out for the Long Beach area. I know someone that might read this would get offended that they did not know about my day in Long Beach - but I was on a specific mission. I had to take a friend to an important test... then fall asleep in the parking lot only to be woken up by security and told to leave. That was nice. After the test I took her and all her roomies to the beach where fun was had by Shane... I'm not sure about the girls, they all just layed out on the sand collecting sunrays. Booooriiiiing. There's the ocean people! The greatest interactive pool in the world! Go swim! It's fun! *sigh*
Then I booked it for Mission Viejo and crashed my sister's pad to do a marathon Battlestar Galactica thing with my bro-in-law. Lot's of food and alcohol, zero sleep since his kids woke me up at the butt crack, and more food. Oh yeah, we watched the show too. Anyway, good times, but I was pretty happy to be home and not spending money. Jesus gasoline sucks. Not like Jesus Gasoline... I wish there was Jesus Gasoline, maybe my car would fly? Bad punctuation ftw.
[ drainpip ] | 7:24 AM | 0 comments
Friday, August 18, 2006
well, since you asked....
I will link the full review so that you may gleen something from it yourself.
I will begin with stating something simple: Ebert just plain missed the entire point of the film. I submit as evidence, portions of his review:
Sometimes, for variety, they beat up themselves. It's macho porn -- the sex movie Hollywood has been moving toward for years, in which eroticism between the sexes is replaced by all-guy locker-room fights. Women, who have had a lifetime of practice at dealing with little-boy posturing, will instinctively see through it; men may get off on the testosterone rush. The fact that it is very well made and has a great first act certainly clouds the issue.
It's painful... he almost says it right here. He's SO close! Fight Club isn't some sort of philisophical movement, it's more of a message. If you were to fall into Fight Club's clutches - you're an idiot. I'm sorry, but if you started up your own Fight Club yourself and felt some sort of release, a religious experience through getting your ass kicked - you're an idiot. Yeah it might be the closest these poor fuckers will ever get to God, but hey, that's not my problem. Tyler wants to turn back the clock on the world, he wants to destroy all of humanity to go back to it's primordial animalistic roots. Chuck gets into that in more detail in the book, and I highly recommend it.
On an airplane, he has another key encounter, with Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), a man whose manner cuts through the fog. He seems able to see right into the Narrator's soul, and shortly after, when the Narrator's high-rise apartment turns into a fireball, he turns to Tyler for shelter. He gets more than that. He gets in on the ground floor of Fight Club, a secret society of men who meet in order to find freedom and self-realization through beating one another into pulp
SAY IT EBERT SAY IT!!! *sigh* He never does... It's pure age gap.
Later, the movie takes still another turn. A lot of recent films seem unsatisfied unless they can add final scenes that redefine the reality of everything that has gone before; call it the Keyser Soze syndrome.
Here we bring in the banger of my thesis. I could drone on about many things right now as to what would make Ebert think this, but it's really quite simple. I don't think he likes being deceived by the story teller. Both Usual Suspects and Fight Club were complete bullshit... you were led down this tale and the entire time you were being fucked with by the narrator. I wonder... if the surprises of both of these films were let loose in the first moments, would he have liked it better? No... listen to his closing remarks:
Fincher is a good director (his work includes "Alien 3," one of the best-looking bad movies I have ever seen, and "Seven," the grisly and intelligent thriller). With "Fight Club" he seems to be setting himself some kind of a test--how far over the top can he go? The movie is visceral and hard-edged, with levels of irony and commentary above and below the action. If it had all continued in the vein explored in the first act, it might have become a great film. But the second act is pandering and the third is trickery, and whatever Fincher thinks the message is, that's not what most audience members will get. "Fight Club" is a thrill ride masquerading as philosophy--the kind of ride where some people puke and others can't wait to get on again.
I will thus close my case.
Also, sorry for the one person that might come here every once and a while that I do not post more often. Perhaps now would be a good time to actually start using this since I started using this for all the wrong reasons.
[ drainpip ] | 6:47 AM | 2 comments