My sister told me to keep writing, and I do my best to listen to her. Here goes.

I skipped out on work Sunday and went to Madison to see the closing performance of Fire Exit, a play written by and featuring Greg Harris, one of my closest and most creatively inspiring friends. The day could not have been more perfect.

I love Madison. The entire place often feels pregnant with questions and ideas. You can almost sense the activity of minds being shaped, discussions entertained. I have not been anywhere else where you can find a hundred or more people outside enjoying the sun and the lake with a book on their lap ( It was a beautiful day and the Terrace was packed). Madison is also where I have met the greatest friends I have ever known. Almost all of amazing people that fill my life and make it comprehensible are from my time there.

But as the bus pulled into town, I started to feel the familiar pangs of regret that accompany my visits. Madison is also the setting of the failure, depression, and waste that characterize much of my twenties. When I think about Madison, I think of opportunities forsaken and possibilities ignored.

My pastor once said life for me is like floating down a river on an innertube. While most get along fine easing our way downstream, the realization that I'm moving makes me question where I'm headed. I dig my heels in and resolve not to move another inch until I get things figured out, until I map a route and destination I find acceptable. The paralysis of such a task can be overwhelming. You spend all you time craning your neck around the corner and asking "What then?" You are never able to be present and all the people, experiences, and moments, all that time, float past.

I walked up State St. to the capitol, over to the Weary Traveler, and sat down to some food, a little bourbon, and great music. I started making a list of the things I did and didn't do while in school. While monumentally depressing, the one thing I did do that stuck out was I learned how to think. I didn't spend to much time at class or writing papers on time or being involved, but I spent hours talking and listening to some incredibly elegant thinkers. They taught me rigor, analysis, and synthesis, as well as respect, patience, and generosity. I learned how to learn. So why was I so confused?

I killed some time by walking to Lake Monona and stared at the clouds for awhile. I had just seen James Benning's 10 Skies the night before and tried to hold my vision on one small segment of sky and observe all the changes that can happen in ten minutes (you'd be amazed). I realized that if Madison taught me to think, Milwaukee has taught me to see (I'm pretty good. I have 5th or 6th grade vision, but hope to work my way to pre-schooler before all's said and done). Not seeing well is problematic because all the thinking in the world can't help you if your information is flawed. As much as I was learning and as well as I thought, I simply didn't know. I didn't know. All that time spent not knowing. All that time wasted.

The play started and it was wonderful. Based on the mythology surrounding the burned down Hotel Washington, a group of friends revisit the abandoned wreckage and their former selves (each character is double cast with an older and younger actor after Sondheim's Follies). Like a eulogy to his twenties, Greg celebrated and mourned the carefree pleasures and blinded eyes of unsuspecting youth. He challenged those moving on to neither flee from nor be imprisoned by their regret and to understand growing up is not removing the possibility of mistake - that is failure - but accepting that the same mistakes will be made over again forever - that is living.

In laying his past to rest, Greg helped me bury mine as well. The emotion of this and the joy of seeing someone you care about keep working, keep failing, making the same mistakes and not giving up, and producing such amazing work as a result, catapulted my feet out of any mud they might be dragging in. I spent the rest of the evening enjoying the family of friends created through the production, marveling at what I saw. Present.

So I think the past is past. I learned the question to ask isn't "Why didn't I?" or " What's next?", but "What's now?". I've learned to look and how to enjoy what I find. I've learned there are no maps, only the occasional and momentary guide. And above all, I've learned to trust the Providence of the current. I think the temptation at turning thirty is to re-live your twenties. Thanks to a few long walks and a friend who writes well, I no longer fear that. I still want to live like I'm twenty - exploring, learning, creating, and you might find that just as pathetic. That's fine, I'm just going to paddle around for a while.



P.S.- I noticed that my profile I listed occupation as a Filmmaking Hobbist rather than Hobbyist. If anyone was under the impression that I make films advocating absolute monarchy as the means of guaranteeing a stable civil society, I apologize.

Truck Turner (1974)
Jonathan Kaplan
Across 110th Street (1972)
Barry Shear
viewed 02.23.06

From the pimped out Harvard Blue to Lt. Pope (actually the other way around, but I'm trying to invent a progression). If you know Yaphet Kotto it's probably as the intimidating Lt. Al Giardello on the acclaimed TV series Homicide. Here you get to see him do battle with a Shaft-like Isaac Hayes.

It's sad to see a good actor slumming in exploitation films, forced to play second fiddle to the brutal acting of a famous musician . At least in 110th Street, a heavy-handed, blood fest about social equality, he gets Anthony Quinn.

P.S. While looking for mp3's of a hardcore punk band named after Kotto I stumbled upon this amazing single recorded by the real Yaphet Kotto in 1968, "Have You Dug His Scene?" Well have you?

William Eggleston in the Real World (2005)
Michael Almereyda
viewed 02.21.06

How Little We Know of our Neighbours (2005)
Rebecca Barron
viewed 02.24.06

The Century of the Self (2002)
viewed 02.28.06 & 03.01.06


The Power of Nightmares (2004)
viewed 03.02.06
Adam Curtis

A Reason to Live (1976)
George Kuchar
Chafed Elbows (1966)
Robert Downey Sr.
The Telephone Book (1971)
Nelson Lyon
viewed 02.16.06

I admit to having a vacillating relationship with films like these. I recognize them as depraved and juvenile, and at the same time I am awed by their humor and provocation. Watching them I was reminded of absurdity and scorn of Luis Buñuel and Owen Land as well as the insolence of Dada writers. What many would see as an internecine display of sex and depravity, captivated and inspired me by its recklessness and candor.

Chafed Elbows was the gem of the screening and Downey (father of the actor) is a new obsession. A strange comedy about a young man and his unspeakable relationship with his mother, Chafed Elbows, delivers a barrage of non-sequiters, one-liners, and obscure referencess that vilify everything from pychoanalysis and philosophy to filmmaking and welfare, with special consideration made for the NYPD.

I probably wouldn't have much of an argument for those who ask how this improves me. I can't exactly say it does. But if Downey and the artists like him have a virtue, it is that they have zero interest in anyone finding them acceptable. There is no compromise is their work. I remember operating a boom mic on a small project that involved professional actors. A character kept using clichés and they where trying to find one about time management. A rather risque one was offered and while it was funny and worked, the actors were all uncomfortable with it. You could see them all calculating how this might affect getting work in car commercials, or whether their Mom might see this.

I'm not entirely mocking them, I have the exact same thoughts. I am constantly plagueded by concerns of what people will think of me. How many times a day do I nod and say "I know that you mean" when my mind is screaming "I couldn't disagree more!" Last week my boss's boss was commenting on the style of shoe everyone in the room had on. When he skipped mine, I was planning a shopping trip. When did impressing him with footwear become a priority? I don't even want to work there.

The 1967 New York Times review of Chafed Elbows begins "One of these days, Robert Downey... is going to clean himself up a good bit, wash the dirty words out of his mouth and do something worth mature attention." I'm bored already. What the reviewer means is that one of these days Robert Downey will make films that look and sound like everyone else's. Thank God he doesn't. Thank God he has the courage to ignore the crowd and challenges us to do the same. Being true - presenting yourself uncensoreded - doesn't mean living or making work like these filmmakers. My vision of life and the things I want to say are are not the same as Downey's. But what I often lack, and they possess, is the tenacity say those things clearly.

Kiss (1963)
Couch (1964)
Andy Warhol
viewed 02.14.06

"They're experimental films; I call them that because I don't know what I'm doing. I'm interested in audience reaction to my films: my films now will be experiments, in a certain way, on testing their reactions"

- Andy Warhol, Nothing to Lose'

The audience was the show tonight, and the show was telling. I was impressed by the number of people who turned out for the screenings tonight; within 30 minutes about half had left. Each of the films are 50 minutes, black and white, and silent. Kiss consists of static close-ups (the only camera move between the two films is a short zoom out in Kiss) of, well the title kind of says it, kissing. Couch is a collection of wider shots of various activities (typically amorous) on Warhol's famous red couch at the Factory. This may not sound all that interesting to most, but it has moments that captivate and amuse. I assume most people showed up because of the name "Warhol" and thought they were going to see a breezy, kitsch, pop-culture movie. They had no idea Warhol was going to ask something of them.

What I want to know is what the thought process was for most people. Was it, "I don't know much about his work, but Warhol is supposed to be brilliant and cool...what's this? This doesn't seem brilliant or cool to me - and I've given it almost 15 minutes now, Warhol must not be brilliant. Honey, get your popcorn." Was it "I thought this was a movie...where's the story?" Or was it "Watching people make-out is creepy, only pervert would find this interesting. Why did my date want me to see this, what a creep." ( I did feel kind of bad for the guys that brought their valentines.) My point is that is most cases it seems people where confronted with something that challenged their concept of what art is, or what a film is, or what appropriateness is, or whatever, and rather than staying to experience and understand this challenge, a large percentage merely escaped. What happened to the idea that the things we think may be wrong? Maybe they just didn't like it? Maybe saying "I just didn't like it" is a quick way of saying what I've just said?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
02.23.06

I decided I needed to temper my comments after talking with one of the show's programmers. His first comment was also about the audience, but about how they made it the best screening the school year. He acknowledged that many left, but pointed out that those who stayed brought great energy and humor to the films. I don't know why I failed to mention what a great time the films were or how engaged the remaining audience was, but I did. I thought it was important to say so.

À tout de suite (2004)
Benoît Jacquot
viewed 02.11.06

A reviewer of À tout de suite wrote "Few movies have the power to grab the viewer from the very first frame and never let go." I missed the first 90 seconds and have to admit to never being grabbed.

Much like Bernardo Bertolucci's The Dreamers, Jacquot intends his film as an homage to French New Wave cinema, but only achieves a dull, lifeless aping of shots and themes. New Wave films are shocking with their energy, life, absurdity, recklessness, and wit. Attempts at repeating that time and spirit of innovation resemble the real thing as much as a faded memory of first love compares the astonishing moment of hope and desire.

In describing the limited variety of the stories we can tell, Ben Marcus (again) writes of a one-word language where speakers can only communicate something new by altering its pronuciation. For us "stories keep mattering by reimagining their own methods, manners, and techniques." When we mimic the intonation of another the results are methodological, mannered and forgettableble.

I'm sure there's a life application in here somewhere.

L'Esquive (2003)
Abdel Kechiche
viewed 02.10.06

This was a fantastic film which provoked far more thought than I imagined it would when the lights went up. On the surface it's two hours of teenagers being teenagers. They're loud, they're vulgar, they're rude, violent, and oblivious. Shot in a intimately revealing documentary style in the Paris banlieues (poor suburbs) with stunningly gifted non-actors, the film creates a legitimacy that keeps their boasting and shouting compelling, and allows us to see beyond their defiant exteriors.

The only adult that has any real screen time is their energetic teacher who is staging a production of Marivaux's "Games of Love and Chance". The play serves not only as a backdrop for the romance of the film but as an opportunity for the kids to engage with something outside of themselves. Apart from the animated and beautiful Lydia, the rest are content with smoking, porn, and gossip. Personifying this detachment is Krimo, a sad, silent, brooder with problems at home and an eye for Lydia. Krimo finagles his way into playing Lydia's romantic opposite but is unable to muster the dynamism and purpose to bring life to either the role or his dreams.

"L'Esquive" is a term for dodging in fencing and illustrates how the characters are unable to attack the circumstances of their existence. Their teacher is the only influence that passionately strives for their escape. In coaching Krimo she cuts his melancholy acting shouting "Plus! Plus!" You feel her wanting to shake them, shock them, attack them, provoke them, anything to wake them out of their limited understanding and habits.

I often see what I imagine are kids like this around town. Typically I think "Thank God I don't have to put up with this all day." Thinking about this film, I am overwhelmed by what an opportunity and honor it must be to go to work everyday fighting for young people's minds. I'm sure it "ain't like the movies" but neither is this film.

Syriana (2005)
Stephen Gaghan
viewed 02.09.06

Rant coming soon.

--------------------------------------------------------------

02.17.06

"The malleability of the masses is directly proportional to their material possessions."

"Freedom would be not to choose between black and white but to abjure such
prescribed choices."

-Theodor Adorno

Syriana is a Hollywood thriller about the political and corporate corruption surrounding the oil industry. Is it anywhere near reality? Of course not, as my cousin Drew said as we walked out, "It's worse than that."

The film leaves you at a loss as to how things can be corrected. It all too clearly illustrates that those that control the money and the power will never be unseated or even held responsible. Does that describe our world? A few reminders:

*Tom Delay got back in the game last week. He rejoined the House Appropriations Committee and took a seat on the subcommittee overseeing the Justice Department. That's the Justice Department investigating the Abramoff lobbying scandal. Delay should provide plenty of expert insight; he's facing money-laundering charges and considers Abramoff one of his "closest and dearest friends". Take a moment to skim a page entitled "Monetary influence of Jack Abramoff" on Wikipedia. How many people of the hundred or so involved will lose their career because of this? My guess is less than four.

*Our President is steadily creating one of the most secretive administrations in history. With Executive Order 13233 signed in 2001 Bush has made nearly impossible for the public to see and examine the presidential papers that were formerly made public 12 years after a president left office. Now it takes written consent of the former president (or heir) and the sitting president. No future accountability for Iran-Contra, Gulf I, 9/11, Gulf II, Katrina, etc., etc. This mirrors his lack of transparency in repeatedly refusing to release information concerning Chief Justice Roberts, Justice Alito, Cheney's oil entanglements, wireless surveillance, you name it.

*Speaking of eavesdropping, the Senate Intelligence committee has come up with a novel idea for investigating the legality of Bush's spying; change the law and you don't need to investigate anything. "Aw, Man, you caught me. Can we change the rules so I won't get caught again? I promise not to break those."

*I heard $5.4 Billion has gone missing in Iraq. Is this in addition to the $8.8 billion in 2005 or the $20 billion in 2004 or the $4 billion in 2003? I keep losing track.

*The oil industry is about to receive $7 billion in "Royalty Relief" and could receive another $28 billion over the next five years. Just in time. Exxon only made $36 billion last year.

*And drawing on the finest of American traditions, we seem to be the world leader in torture (See Mary's post). There was Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo Bay , Cheney's fight to continue torture, McCain's capitulation, Abu Ghraib again, Gitmo again, and in my favorite bit of covering your ass, the Times updated the prosecution of those responsible for the deaths of two detainees in Bragam, Afghanistan. Turns out that of the 27 recommended for criminal charges, 15 have been prosecuted, the stiffest penalty being 5 months. Military police sergeant, James P. Boland and military police Specialist Willie V. Brand had charges ranging from assault and maltreatment to manslaughter (a coroner remarked that one victim look like had had been run over by a truck). Tactics Boland used were starting to possibly implicate higher ranking officials and the charges were suddenly dropped. He left the Army and got a letter of reprimand (I'm sure it was very mean). After hearing about Brand's tough times at home, he got off with a demotion in rank and an honorable (yes honorable) discharge. For torturing and killing a man. A man, by the way, who had a young wife, two-year-old-daughter, and, oh yeah, was innocent. I never want anyone to ever tell me that innocent people have nothing to fear from the Patriot Act. Nothing unless you happen to have the wrong ethnicity, religion, or ideas. Ask Maher Arar.

So...What do we do? I don't know, but tomorrow I'm emailing General Electric to notify them that I will not do business with them or their subsidiaries until they agree to stop financially influencing elections.

Let me explain.

A year or so ago I read and article in American Scholar and then saw a segment on PBS about the environmental effects of the pork industry. I decided to limit my pork consumption (Christmas, Easter, and brats) as a way to help the situation. When I mentioned this to people they often responded that my not eating a pork chop isn't going to change anything. They're right and I'm not so militant anymore. I noticed something in all this, a lot of these people were the same people who freaked out when I told them I don't vote (it's not exactly true, but it really pisses people off). I reasoned that I have far more power with the way I spend money than than 6 hours in line and 30 seconds in a voting booth. (The chances of your vote ever influencing an election are about the same as winning the lottery. Not to mention that the closer an election the less chance the voters will decide it. Remember 2000, if you wanted your vote to decide anything you had to be wearing a black robe.) If you don't like the way Walmart does business, don't go, change they way you live, Walmart will be out of business in a week if we truly feel that way. Waiting for elected officials bought and paid for by corporate entities to change things is hopeless. Waiting for elected officials not bought and paid for is funny.

Nothing miserable is ever going to get better if we keep giving our money to those who make things miserable. Does GE make things miserable? Maybe not so bad but according to FECInfo.com they had one of the largest lobbying outlays in 2005 as well as one of the largest corporate PACs. I doubt the money is going to pioneer campaign finance reform. There are larger spenders and worse companies (GE isn't exactly innocent), but finding information is difficult and opting out of industries is even harder. I can't have health insurance without doing business with a major corporation, I can't set-up an medical savings account without a major corporation, I can't drive myself to a free-clinic without a major corporation, and I can't call home and ask for money for an appendectomy without an major corporation (healthcare, finance, transportation, and communication are the worst influence-peddling offenders). UPS has the biggest PAC, but their competition FedEx is in the top ten, not to mention I don't send anything (they're both getting emails and I'll use USPS). I do buy lightbulbs.

Maybe we can make this the next consumer ethics issue. We, the consumers, will give preferential treatment to any company that agrees not contribute directly or indirectly through its officers, subsidiaries, or PACs to a political party, candidate, or 527. We understand that they have the right to do so, they must understand we have the right to go elsewhere. The political influence their money buys is out of proportion with the influence of the average citizen. One person, one vote is meaningless in the current arrangement. Our freedom to choose and prevail upon our elected officials is no longer for sale.

Is this realistic? Maybe not. Are my emails or your emails going to change anything? Probably not, but why do you vote?

Civic duty? Don't we have a duty to do more than nod in the direction of diligence and sacrifice every four years?

To honor the sacrifice of those that died for freedom? What is freedom when our voice is meaningless compared to the campaign money they have to offer? What kind of freedom doesn't allow you to stop doing business with those you don't want to support?

To retain the right to complain about the results of elections? Do you hate the influence of videogames on teenagers? If you own a Sony DVD player or Microsoft software you need to stop talking. Do you dislike the violent and hyper-sexualized culture created by Miramax films? If you watch ABC, ESPN, Disney, or a fair number of sports teams, stop talking. Think the credit industry preys on the most vulnerable? What does the logo on your debit card say? What really infuriates you? Chances are you do business with a company that does just that. We have zero right to complain about how companies do damage if we continue to pay their bills. I know that means going without, but what are our options?

So here goes, no more GE lightbulbs, microwaves, phones. No NBC, Olympics, Universal Pictures (I'm super bummed I won't be watching Mann's Miami Vice, really, I'm not kidding), Focus Features (super bummed there too), Bravo, and sadly Telemundo. You can get a list here. I'm sure I won't always be consistent or mindful. I'm not going take on every company today. But I am going to do something. It's my meaningless act of liberation for the day.

I'm also not eating pork again (except brats).

Pépé le Moko (1937)
Julien Duvivier
viewed 02.08.06

This was an absolute treat. I said it before in response to Mary's post on Casablanca, but they do not write films like this anymore. Films of this era, the great ones at least, seem to delight in eccentric charaters, vivid dialogue, and graceful badinage. They are films for adults with active minds, with charismatic performances that can captivate the youngest and most untrained viewer.

If you want to be charmed by sparlking exchanges, playful moments and beautiful motifs you might want to look back a half-century and introduce yourself to the some of the originals (Ernst Lubitch's Trouble in Paradise or Howard Hawks' His Girl Friday). If you live near Milwaukee you can do just that when the Times Cinema screens a series of classics including Casablanca, Strangers On A Train, and It Happened One Night. Only 5 bucks.

Morlang (2001)
Tjebbo Penning
viewed 02.08.06

I number of different movies came to mind as I watched this film (La Belle Noiseuse, The Limey), but mostly it was a less creepy, less Art Garfunkel Bad Timing look-alike (kind of a shinier twin brother). An incredibly well made film, it nevertheless felll very flat. It was based on a true story about a man who coned his wife into committing suicide with him but didn't go through with it, and never meant to, after she did. But once you know these things, there isn't much emotional or psychological effect. Roeg's Bad Timing, which also concerns a dubious suicide and who's disjointed story telling style is mimed in Morlang, is an intense, disturbing tale of obsession and control, and seems to ask more compelling questions, or at least does so in a more compelling way. Roeg will mess you up.

I will say this though, Penning certainly knows where to put a camera. Stunning compositions.

A DVD I've had on my shelf for 3 or 4 years, I got it through a DVD-of -the-month club online called Film Movement which has provided some very good movies. It's a cool idea for film distribution that is worth checking out. A few of the films,( Light of My Eyes; Marion Bridge; Ali Zoua) are films I come back to or think about from time to time and always stay with me for a while.

Al Yaoum (2003)
Akram Zaatari
viewed 02.07.06

I just walked out of another world.

Few things are as fascinating to me than how people view and express themselves. The past few days parts of the world have been engulfed in violence and outrage over the depiction of Arabs in the Danish press. The issue of representation has cost people their lives.

I understood less than 25% of the video I saw tonight. Akram Zaatari's exploration images of Arabs from Bedouin past to embattled urban existence was personal and indigenous. It was contemplation without explanation. My ignorance of history and culture were never judged but they were also not accommodated. Few attempts were made to make the material plain for a western understanding. Instead beautiful images of every sort and medium were synthesize to hold my attention and reshaped my understanding.

Zaatari career has explored the relationship between dubious histories and personal experience.

"Zaatari has consistently challenged the self-evident quality and immediacy of the documents he found or ran into. As we follow his works, it is clear that the Lebanon of the past thirty years, especially the Lebanon of the Lebanese wars, continues to produce documents that shed light on what it meant and means to experience the physical, social, political and psychic dimensions of wars. The continued manifestation of these documents today bring with them questions abouthow to see and listen to these documents, about how to unpack their meanings."
(Walid Raad)

These questions are increasingly important not only for those who's culture they sprang from, so they may learn about their past, but also for us if we are to have any hope for a peaceful future together. I encourage spending some time at the Arab Image Foundation, which he co-founded (you will have to register to see the collection). You will see things that are beautiful and things that are funny, things that are common and things that are surprising. At the very least you will see how people across the globe see themselves which can only help us represent them with dignity and respect.

Brodeuses (2004)
Éléonore Faucher
viewed 02.04.06

A foreign industry film that has a lot of great images but not a lot of reasons for them. The story about a young girl who is hiding a pregnancy and bonds with an embroiderer who recently lost her son is interesting and handled delicately. It's strange that while the story avoids cliches, the shots do not.

Still, its touching, well acted, and good introduction to world cinema.

Deathsport (1978)
Allen Arkush,
Nicholas Niciphor,
and Roger Corman
viewed 02.02.06

The first installment of the Underground Cinema (I missed the first part of the double feature) got off to a hilariously exploitative start (You should have seen the 5 minute trailer that came before the movie. WOW). Plastic swords and "Death-machines", aka motorcycles with silly metal frames and synthesizer sound effects, do battle in a very hippy apocalyptic future. Line after line tested the boundaries of ridiculousness. If you ever hear me use "Be Powerful!" as a farewell, you'll know why.

Can't wait for next Thursday.

Le Fantôme d'Henri Langlois (2004)
Jacques Richard
viewed 02.01.06

Henri Langlois got it.

The beloved founder of the Cinémathèque Française exhausted himself preserving and presenting the greatest film art in the world. While studios were destroying movies no longer in circulation Langlois bought or stole every can of film he encountered. He once sold his return plane ticket from the US to buy a film, knowing the embassy would have to repatriate him eventually.

He died loved and penniless. When the cultural minister had him replaced in a political maneuveruver, film lovers rioted until he was reinstated (God bless the French). When he died, the power, gas, and water in his apartment had been turned off from overdue bills.

Without him countless film would have been lost forever, many were anyway. Because of him countless filmmakers in France and across the world were able to create the cinema we know today.

¡Viva la Cinema et viva Henri Langlois!

Innocence (2004)
Lucile Hadzihalilovic
viewed 01.29.06

"Imagine an eye unruled by man-made laws of perspective, an eye unprejudiced by compositional logic, an eye which does not respond to the name of everything but which must know each object encountered in life through an adventure in perception" -Stan Brakhage

Of all the things I am most grateful to have learned during my time at UWM it is how to resign yourself to a piece of work. Confronting a film without expectations as to what is should look like or how it should operate allows for the possibility of first understanding it on the level of experience. What are you drawn to? How is it making you feel? Many (including Hadzihalilovic) identify this as a process of immersion; permitting images and sounds to wash over one's-self with out attempting to identify, understand, and interpret.

Innocence is an extraordinary film that brings the audience to a time and world before these interpretative instincts dominated experience. We return to the dark nights and playful days filled with happiness, fear, excitement, and discovery that characterize early childhood. In the film we follow three young girls at a strange boarding school governed by cryptic rules and rituals. In this very real but otherworldly environment the girls and us experience all the anxieties of pre-adolescence (I can't remember the last time I was afraid of the dark for no good reason). There are a million things to say about this film; a million moments to relate. It's probably a hard movie to find playing anywhere but I hope you can see it and experience them for yourself. This film does not provide answers - it has no moral or lesson to impart. It is an opportunity to experience wonder once again.

As an aside, a bit of noise has been made concerning "art-house exploitation" of the school-girls. While I wouldn't be inviting your neighborhood registered sex offender to the film, much of Hadzihalilovic's brilliance is her combination of innocent playfulness and dark mystery. These create a void in which the viewer's perversion becomes the objects of fear. When no answer is given why the eldest girl has to leave every night at nine our minds race with the sordid things we have seen, heard, or thought. I understand the motives of those who seek to protect children and worry about fueling the imaginations of those might to harm. The confusions surrounding youth and sexuality in our culture are intense, but films that explore them should be celebrated, not marginalized.

Lonesome Cowboys (1969)
Andy Warhol
viewed 01.26.06

This was a special screening of the LGBT film fest. Kind of a gayer Brokeback Mountain. This is the second film by Warhol I've seen (The other was Restaurant, and both feature highly annoying women). I know a number of people were turned off and walked out during a few violent scenes (between this and Naked I've reached my rape scene quota for the year), many more were turned on by its randiness.

The most compelling aspect of both works, and why they are brilliant, is how they force us to look. In Restaurant Warhol achieves new vision by letting the camera run and slowly zooming out and then panning around the room. We sit for almost ten minutes looking at nothing but the glassware on a table, while listening to the chaos surrounding it. In Lonesome Cowboys a different method of examination is created through editing and beautifully composed, typically mute, portrait shots.

A couple of people I've talked to about the films complain that it's only art because Warhol did it and therefore not "real art". Few things are more basic to discovering the world of film, let alone the world around us, than teaching ourselves how to see. Warhol's use of repetition and duration break us out of our every-day habit of merely glancing at the environment we inhabit. That is his art and is altogether real (and often very funny).

Wild Zero (2000)
Tetsuro Takeuchi
Viewed 01.22.06

This tape was courtesy of my friend Ryan who does weekly screening where you have to mop up the little pile of mush from under your seat that used to be your brain before you leave. Easily the best gender-bending, rock 'n roll, zombie movie I have ever seen. The scary part is, I'm sure Ryan has more.

LOVE KNOWS NO BOARDERS, NATIONALITIES, OR GENDERS!!!!! DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ROCK 'N ROLL !!!!

Bleak Moments (1971)
viewed 01.13.06
Hard Labour (1973)
Naked (1993)
viewed 01.14.06
Grown-Ups (1980)
viewed 01.15.06
Mike Leigh

The Squid and the Whale (2005)
Noah Baumbach
viewed 01.11.06

I almost saw this movie four times before actually seeing it (twice I literally turned around at the theater door). I was afraid. Afraid that producer Wes Anderson (who I love) was franchising himself . Afraid that it was upperclass angst set to a trendy soundtrack. Afraid that it was going to be two hours of spastic editing by a director who can't compose a shot.

More than that though, I was annoyed. I had listened to or read a few comments Mr. Baumbach made about his film being "no-budget", an "underdog". Hollywood marketing has already stolen the terms "independent" and "low-budget". A low-budget independent movie can now cost $10-15 million, star the biggest names in Hollywood, and be financed by a company owned by Disney. The "outsider" Independent Spirit Awards recently capped eligible budgets at $20 million (Independence is now a state of mind, aka "spirit", rather than an economic condition. People with money always seem to think money doesn't mean anything). "No budget" has typically referred to innovative filmmakers like Jon Jost who makes feature films for less than $10,000, not the 1.5 million it took to make The Squid and the Whale.

True, in comparison, Baumbach's movie was lower-budget, but lets inject a bit of reality into how we talk about things. If he's an "underdog" making movies for "almost nothing", then what am I and the people I know who work regular jobs while trying to scrape up the extra cash to buy a few hundred feet of film stock. People who enlist the acting talents of complete strangers walking by because they'll work for free, and rely on creativity to solve the problems even a $20,000 budget could solve with money. Many will never get the film made, and most of those that do will be ignored. Baumbach and the like get nearly everything they need, can't they at least leave us a word that accurately describes our situation?

By the way, the movies was decent. None of my fears proved legitimate. It had more life, more edge, and more visual appeal than its trailer gave it credit for.

King Kong (2005)
Peter Jackson
viewed 01.03.06

2006 can only get better.

I have been spending much of the last two days trying to come up with an effective metaphor to communicate how bad this film is. Something that can combine (1) the boredom of watching Jackson bang out his two notes of CGI absurdity and Karo syrup sentimentality over and over and over again, (2) the fascination of watching one ridiculous concept after another appear on the screen (30's era sailors quoting Heart of Darkness from memory; Kong and Ann "skating" in Central Park; Ann teaching Kong the word "beautiful"; pretty much anything involving Kong and Ann), (3) the confusion of watching story lines evaporate, and (4) the blank, empty feeling of not being asked to have a single meaningful thought for over two hours. No luck so far.

Since this isn't a review I'll share a realization this experience has provided. Everyday I find it harder and harder to identify with much of the world around me.

I scanned a number of viewer and critic reviews and the vast majority were positive if not gushing. Phrases like "master filmmaker", "this is what cinema was made for", "classic storytelling" were used. Used by critics I consider quite good. I realize most people think divergent opinions in film are matters of taste and not to be take seriously. Perhaps, but these "tastes" also seem to indicate a difference in approach, not just to film but life (I often have trouble with the distinction).

The desire for distraction over and above revelation is a disturbing characteristic of our time. We are a people that go though our day attending to one meaningless and fleeting social, economic, and professional task after another. We take on stress-laden responsibilities that prevent us from thinking any further than the matter at hand, and when we are finally able to carve out a few hours to ourselves, we feed our souls another meaningless and fleeting bit of film or TV. How are we not starving for more? Why aren't upset when our time, money, and attention are spend on things that lack any significance?

I'm currently reading The Anchor Book of Short Stories edited my one of my favorite authors, Ben Marcus. In his introduction he describes how the stories in the collection "conspire not to be forgotten".

"If we are made by what we read, if language truly builds people into what they are, how they think, the depth with which they feel, then these stories are, to me, premium material for that construction project. You could build a civilization with them. They are toolkits for the future. They could be projected by megaphone onto an empty field and people would grow there. These stories reveal that many stylistic literary traditions...can produce colossal feeling and manage to be true, deep, memorable, and brilliant."

Every time I walk into a theater or put in a DVD this is the experience I am aching for. I understand that sometimes people want to be entertained, they want to escape. What they miss is how extraordinary it is to escape with something more, and upon returning finding their world made new. I refuse to believe cinema is made for the pleasing but vacuous, for the dazzling but empty. I've seen work that has improved me, taught me, films that change the way I think and see. I am troubled by less than that, and confused by those who aren't.