Potpourri of Mediocrity

A Learned Man

2009-08-05T14:12:00.000-07:00

In the coming months I will embark on a great journey. A journey that not many people of this society have had the pleasure to discovering or experiencing. For that I am honored and deeply touched by what fortune has smiled upon me. In the coming months I will be.... going.... back.... to school!!!!!! (cue crazy guitar riffs and loud drum rolls as the camera zooms back and forth on my jubilant expression) I will be going to film school.

Cut!

This time I want you try something a little different.

I can not wait to go back to school. More importantly, I would love to learn a trade that I have put off for a long time. My love for film has been a long courtship. It started as a child when I would rent up to ten movies at a time from the local library. I would go home and systematicly watch them like is was doing research. Over the coming years I would grab my friends, literaly grab them, and make them watch movies that they would have never watched in a million years. I was educating them in cinema. I was such a film geek that I would sit in that same library for eight hours in a day and read all their old Variety and Hollywood Reporters.

Cut!

That was fine. Now give me something real. Confess.

For years if you were to ask me what I do, I would respond with " I am a (blank)." pause and cue mutual silence. "But I'm also writer". Cue sudden interest and a myriad of questions. From "What do I write?" to "Have I gotten any work from it?" or "Am I published yet". This is a two parter that ends with a question.
One: No.
Two: Did you not hear me say I'm currently employed as (blank)?

Cut!

This time reveal yourself to me. Make me feel it.

A few weeks I was helping a married couple with their purchase at my job. In the middle of speaking with them they cut me off to ask a question.

Gentleman:
I'm sorry but you are a real good orator. What do you
do.... besides this?

I blushed.

James:
What else do I do? You mean in my free time?

They nodded.

James: (cont'd)

I sit around a pretend to write

Now at the time I meant it as a joke. A slight, but true deprecating remark about my inability to finish a script. As a side note, I would say off hand I have about seven unfinished screenplays and stage plays. I have about four or five outlines for script ideas and one first draft of an original screenplay I finished last April. Not to say I don't complete anything. I have written two children's stories and have completed somewhere close to a hundred poems. One fully produced stage play, but that was eleven years ago. I just haven't turned one of these things into a means to live. So when I say I sit and pretend to write, I mean to say "I have things in this life I wish to do, but I'm so afraid of failure that I run from success."

Cut! Cut!

Okay... Maybe too much. Why don't you wrap it up.

This is me chronicling my efforts at the newly minted age of thirty three to attend film school. I know nothing about how to choose a school or how I will afford such a thing. But it'll all be right here. Right here for all the thousands of three people I know who will read it. Who I'm sure will know it all anyways by just asking me.

Proof There is a God

2007-05-31T16:13:00.000-07:00

Last year was a tough year for me. I was at my worst financially. Since moving out to California I have craved more things New York than when I lived there. I was always a fan of the NY Mets. Followed them very closely but never did I have a "crazed fan" thing about. That has changed. Distance does make the heart go fonder. Every year that I've been out in L.A. (going on six years now... yikes.) I have made it a point to catch the Mets when they play at Dodgers stadium or see them when I'm in New York.

Back to my point.

Last year I was very poor. When the time came for the Mets to come to town and play I was stressing my inability to go see them. I felt very strange about breaking this tradition. As if by breaking it something would go wrong with my team, the way pitchers won't change their socks if they're on a win streak. I do believe it was the week before they would be coming and I was moping around the house trying to figure out a way to see them.

I'd just like to stop a second a say I'm not normally this pathetic. I mean... I know it's just a baseball team for Christ's sakes.

A few days before the the game an envelope arrives at my house. It's from Dodger Stadium. At first this doesn't faze me. I figure since I've been going to the stadium for the past five years they must me sending me promo stuff. I opened it up. Inside were two tickets. My heart raced with excitement. Where did these come from? From who? There was no note. The tickets showed as being sent directly from the ticket office. I called my girlfriend and thanked her. She knew nothing about it, but was excited for me. I had her call her mother and father. Neither had done it. I called my grandmother and aunt... my dad.. my mom... no one want to take credit for this great deed.

If one is to except the situation at face value... one would have to conclude that this came from a higher power.

Bob Barker? No, higher.

Sherman Helmsley? Higher.

Neil Diamond? Closer.

Could it be...? Naw... it couldn't.... could it? God? Are you (me) suggesting that G-O-D in the sky put his hand in this? This must be. This must be the sign of a higher power that I've been waiting for! I believe! I believe! I believe. Sweet Jesus I Believe!!!!!!

Then the Mets lost. So much for faith.

Well that's the fate God deserves for his taunt. There. I don't believe in him....

At least till he sends me my next set of tickets this year. But I want better seats this time! He that buddy!!!!!

Year Two

2007-05-30T00:20:00.000-07:00

Wow! I have to say... I really suck at keeping up with a blog. I had grand ideas for my Blog... Potpourri of Mediocrity if you will. But such is life.

Shit I didn't even realize that anyone had left comments on any of my blogs till today. These comments were over a year old. YIKES! Talk about turning off your audience. Who knew?

Let's talk about what came from this blog. My first two posts pertained to research I was doing for a script. From that research it took me one full year to squeeze out fifty pages of the little fucker. But I must say... to my credit (which I love to take it where I can get it), in the past three months I've added thirty plus pages to it. I'm currently hanging out at the ninety page mark. Which to that I say "Kudos for me".

So here I've come. Come back to where my journey began to keep my end of the bargain. This blog will be dedicated to..... to ..... Ah Ha! To blogging to myself, about music and movies that I think are important. I will commit to blogging to myself on the progress I already know I'm making. And most importantly I will be giving myself all the hugs I could want for a job well done and for every mission accomplished.

And this I promise to you.

Myself.

30 yrs and VH1 is all I get.

2006-03-23T19:26:00.000-08:00

I am almost thirty. A milestone to those vain enough to start a blog entry with "I am almost thirty". And to thirty I say "yuck!" Now that I'm older and entering the age of reflection (soon after is the favorite age... age of senility).

Years back in the late eighties I was sitting at a friends house watching VH1. I was watching a B52's video that was on. I couldn't tell you how I ended up on VH1, but I do know that I was watching MTV only moments before that. More than likely I was running away from a Jodi Whatley video. But back then everybody was running away from a Jodi Whatley video and into the arms of Taylor Dayne. As I watched the end of the B52's video a fear rolled over me. A fear of what was going to be on next. Will it be Hall & Oates ? Gasp! Will it be solo Mick Jagger? The Horror! Or will it be... no!... anything but....NO! Rod Stewart!!!! From the depths of hell, why?!?!?

When you are eleven or twelve years old Rod Stewart is the ultimate old fart music. The kind of music that makes your repressed house mom come out of her momminess and into a hip shaking, gyrating horror show. Isn't that enough reason to hate Rod Stewart? Yes. But there are more reasons. Reasons that will go unmentioned. It'll take too much time and there are other things I need to do with my life. But in short.... I'll mention the semen/stomach pump incident. ( I know, I know... you heard the same thing about Bon Jovi... I think they were in the same room)

The point being, when you are a kid there you'd never think to yourself there would ever come a day where you would be a watcher of VH1. As the thought would be, you would never be a watcher of a Rod Stewart video. Since VH1 has a hard on for Rod Stewart, you would think they will always be playing Rod.

In the recent years VH1 has taken on programing. As we all know MTV has been nothing but programming for the past 10-12 years. To appease us they gave us MTV2, but that's a separate story in and of itself (next time). For years I struggled to keep MTV on my T.V. screen. I stayed when they put on Singled Out. I stayed when they put on Road Rules, then Real World/Road Rules Challenge. I almost made through Room Raiders before I realized what most had given into by now. MTV is not a channel that wants my thirty year old ass. That is what they made VH1 for. A retirement home for old MTV watchers. They make it as comfortable as possible. When watching VH1 now, you can see all sorts of things of interest. For one thing when they do play music videos (which is late at night), and the videos are waaaaay better than the choices on MTV. From VH1 you get: Death Cab for Cutie, Goldfrapp, White Stripes, The Frey, Morningwood (the last two are alright, but in comparison with another G-Unit video.... I'll take it) and more! But it gets worse! And by worse I mean better! All their programing is geared for nostalgia. Any program they have that starts with " I love the..." is great. They do specials on the "Awesomely Bad (fill in the blank) Videos". What's better than watching bad videos and making fun of them? Watching VH1 tear down Rod Stewart on one of those specials, that's what. They have the freak show that is called the Surreal Life and it's spin off's. The channel has won me over over. Nothing saddens me more than the thought of liking VH1. The question becomes: "Do I like VH1 because they pander to my age range? Leaving behind those they used to embrace (like MTV) or is it that I'm old and don't have my finger on the pulse of America youth?

Soon I will be thirty. I think of myself as a hip music guy. I own my copy of Arcade Fire. I'm a college radio music fan. An indie rock scene fan. I'm a snob. But I'm also a VH1 watcher. So fuck MTV. I want my. I want my. I want my VH1.

And if you happen to be older than me.... say by eight years. They gave you a convalescent home in VH1 classic. Where you can widdle away at your golden years in senility, watching Rod Stewart videos and imagine he's right there in the room with you.

On a side note. I highly recommend clicking on this weeks links I placed in this post. You won't be sorry. On second thought.... you might.

Disc 2: Ike Reilly

2006-03-10T16:19:00.000-08:00

There is music is this world that's for women and some that are for men. Ike Reilly is a man's man of music. He for the grounded intellectual music fan. His lyrics tend to be rough around the edges, but yet ring true in it's bluntness. When I think of Ike I think of the man who opened his first album with the line: "Last time I couldn't make you cum. Last time you didn't fake me out". That's how the man cares to open an album. Very blunt. Very confessional. His music doesn't appeal to to womenfolk for some reason. I've tried. They don't like it. Maybe it's the stuff about not cumming that turns a woman off.

On second thought... I'm sure not cumming turns them off.

This time around Ike has taking on a full band and add Assassination to the end of his name to make it the band's name. The album title is Junkie Faithful . Taking on a full band seems to have caused a back step from the level the first album was playing at. The lyrics aren't as sharp. Though they are still very dry and witty at times. If there is one thing Ike is consistent about is his sense of humor and his irony. But there is a problem with this album. The fun doesn't really begin until the sixth track, then sticks around till track 12 (the last song) which did nothing for me. What about the tracks before the sixth? Eh. They're okay. The four track is grating, the rest are good to poor. The album lost what the first had. That gritty, sitting in the bar drinking hard with all the other barflys that are sort of your friends but not really. Singing along and laughing, even when faced with harsh reality (wheather it be your own or Ike's).

So... the question remains: "Is this a buy?"

No it is not. Not unless you are fan already. If you've never heard of Ike Reilly, I suggest getting his first album Salesmen and Racists. If you like that, maybe buy this one used for no more than $5.

Disc 1: Clap Your Hands And Say Yeah!

2006-03-05T01:38:00.000-08:00

Out of all the Cds that I purchased the other day, this was the mystery Cd. The bands name is Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah! I had vaguely remembered listening to a track or two of the album, but could not remember if I had liked it. So many times it was on the verge of being discarded for another Cd that I was more sure about. Something just kept buzzing in my head that should go and take the risk anyways. Then I took my meds and the buzzing stopped. But I still held on to the Cd regardless. As it turns out... what I had heard via Towerrecords.com was not something I liked. Fortunately I forgot. The album sounded nothing like when listening on my home system as opposed to the crappy Tower Records windows version of the song on my computer. I'd like to take this moment to say: Though I like the service the Tower Records site provides with allowing you to listen to 30 seconds of music for free of almost any band you can think of, but its at the cost of the music sounding like it's being sent to your computer via a tin can and some string.

When listen to the band there is a air of familiarity to the sound. What is this sound? The Talking Heads. Which is great for me, being the BIG Talking Heads fan that I am. Now their sound isn't some carbon copy of an iconic band... it's more like a riff. To put and accurate description of the vocals would be to say; It's like David Byrne if David took a lot of pain killers. Sort of this half sung, half closed mouth "cause it take too much effort to open it" sound. The album is fun and festive. Not too cheeky or jokey, but not moopy or self important. It is everything amodern indie rock fan is looking for.

I'm not a big fan of breaking down an album track by track, so I will just leave this posting with a suggestion. The album is a buy. As a fan of music you should own this and attempt to follow their career. At least till they sell out and I'm writing a blog post about "How they out lived their relevance". Stay tuned for more.

The Sorrow of The Broken Walleted

2006-02-27T10:45:00.000-08:00

Recently I came into some gift cards. Let's say they belonged to the Bestest place you can Buy (according to them mind you). I had a total of $75.00 and could not afford to go over, which is what I normally do in these situations. It had been a really long time since I bought a CD that wasn't a promo or a previously used and I was excited by prospect of it. So excited in fact that I placed... I don't know... $250 worth of Cd's into my hand cart. I had to stop myself at the beginning of the M, because I knew I'd be making the end decision harder. I'm so used to buying from the $5.99 and below bin, I cruelly teased myself with stuff I can't afford. Here's a rough idea of what I had in my basket:

Deerhoof
Broken Social Scene
Local H
Blackalicious
Arcade Fire
Division of Laura Lee
Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah
Ike Reilly Assassination
Interpol
Giraffes
Death From Above
The Go! Team
Danger Doom... and a few other I don't remember

In the next coming days I will write about each of the bands I selected to buy. I will let you know whether or not you should buy said Cd. Because we all know you hang on my every word. As if you are my sheep to my sheep herder. I will guide you.

Anyways. Here's what we will be discussing over the next few days.

Arcade Fire - Funeral
The Go! Team - Thunder, Lightning, Strike
Danger Doom - The Mouse and The Mask
Ike Reilly Assassination - Junkie Faithful
Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah

And that folks... is how far $75 gets you. For all the rest of the Cd's I couldn't buy... for you I shed a tear. One per CD.

You Don't Know, But You Should: Hayden

2006-02-16T09:57:00.000-08:00

"Would you like to listen to some Hayden?"

"I'm sorry. Did you say that you don't know who he is?"

"No! He's not the classical guy. Just get out. Get out of my blog."

"Wait. Don't go. Not yet. Let me explain..."

Hayden is a music artist as I'm sure you've figured out by now. The first time I came across him it was the mid nineties. I had read an article on an up an coming artist who was being tauted as the next Bob Dylan. Well, well, well... big shoes and big words to fill. For some reason, which is very unlike me, I forgot to search out his music (this is before I started making lists of bands to remember... I recommend it). I find myself one day watching MTV *gasp* when they were still playing videos (yes Virginia, they used to play moving pictures to music on that channel at one time), and there is the said heralded artist's video " As Bad As They Seem". From the moment I saw it and heard the sound coming from his mouth I knew he was a special artist. There was this anguish and growl to his voice. When he sang, his vocal energy seemed barely tamable. He had sensibilities like a folk artist (i.e. Dylan) but his guitar was plugged in. He's wasn't political. He was a people watcher, a storyteller and a confessor. There wasn't anything pretentious about the music. It could be seen that way on the surface if it didn't deliver such honesty. On most of the songs from the early album formed these waves of sound that would build and crash gently on you. His music in general is folky, rocky, singer song writer, "I'm gonna play all my instruments" type. Since then the man has put out 5 stunning CD's. By his third album (which took close to 4 years to come out) he took a new direction. Already incorporating a band element, he changed his vocal approach. Instead of the devastatingly low growl, he took on a more airy high vocal range. This change at first was jarring to an established fan, but proved to be the better for it. With the new vocal approach a beauty was added. Just as anguished as it was before, Hayden expanded himself to a more multidimensional artist with the change. Which I for one didn't think was possible to respect he music more than I had. If this posting in any way made you curious about him, I recommend picking up Elk Lake Serenade first. It's really easy to wrap your ears around and then work you way backwards through his catalog. I hadn't intended on any specific song suggestions, but while you are listening to Elk Lake, take a close listen to Don't Get Down. Not only does it detail his inner conflict with continuing in showbiz, it also inspires those of us who are artists to keep on plugging away at our art. Enjoy.

Musical Flops

2006-02-09T13:36:00.000-08:00

As a music fan, you fall in love from time to time with a certain band. Sometimes, as in life, that lover goes and changes on you. You don't know each other anymore. Sometimes, they sold out your love to the highest bidder. Made it cheap and tawdry. A few bands come to mind when I think of music love affairs gone wrong. Most recently, one comes to mind and her name is P.J. Harvey. It's not that P.J. has sold herself out for a more "mainstream" sound. It's more that she has nothing left to say. Her lyrics aren't as sharp anymore. There's nothing new about the direction in her music. If you listen closely you can hear her creatively treading water and getting by on past cred. Listening to her last album "Uh-huh Her" I began to hear a paint by numbers rhyme scheme was present. Rhyme schemes are okay if you gotta do it, just do it well. I realize there are a lot of critics out there that think this is P.J. at the top of her game. I just couldn't get past how predictable it was. Not to say I don't think she can rebound. Someone of her talents can certainly regain ground.

Now... Liz Phair on the other hand. Talk about breaking your heart. A onetime poster girl for for old school indie rock grrrlzzz, has decided that being cool and writing cool songs isn;t the way to go anymore. Nope, she has decided that she wants to be taken seriously as a pop princess. What?!?! Liz Phair? Fuck and Run, Liz Phair?!?! She produced and album in 03 called "Liz Phair". Now I haven't heard the album. I don't need to. I got all I need to know from her live performance at the Flaming Lips show from the same year. The set was boring, forgetable, and useless to anyone not mildly retarded or twelve. How did she not see the backlash over this? She has spit in the eye of every fan she had till that point. Poppy, sappy music is for talentless airheaded virginess nymphs. How about strip yourself of anything unique in hopes of making more money. Liz Phair, regaurdless of ever regaining form will never see a dime from me again. She has betrayed me in an unforgivable way. She whored herself. Not in a snobby music geek way. She really did musicly whored herself.

Finally you have a set of bands that were on the fore front of new musical directions. Helping give hope that someday rock will be relevant again. Then... they all fell flat. Firstly there is the biggest offender: Nine Inch Nails. It's as if Trent made "Perfect Drug" for the Lost Highway soundtrack, took his talent, strangled it, wrapped it up in plastic and buried the thing in the NV desert. Then he decides to put out an album, but forgets he murdered his talent, and makes "The Fragile" . Ugh. Not very good. Certainly not what one is expecting after years of waiting and thinking "Wow! It sure is taking him a long time. I bet it's gonna be awesome and meticulous. Trent rules!!!" It was okay, but certainly not worth the wait. Again with his recent album you have a case where I don't own it, but I didn't learn my lesson fully about not expecting much either. This time I didn't just run out and buy it. I listened to samples of it first (legal ones mind you), but with the same giddiness I had while waiting for the last album. What did I get? For that matter what did his fans get it? Poo-poo. Okay sounding poo-poo, but potentially, nail in the coffin poo-poo. There was time when Trent ruled the world, and my how the mighty fall.

Finally (and only finally not for the lack of more bands as examples but this has to end sometime) to a lesser extent you have Marilyn Manson. I feel there's another good album in the man. He was on such an exciting track. He went from Portrait of an American Family (very goo), to Antichrist Superstar (very good), to Mechanical Animals (we are now heading into David Bowie territory excellent). This is the makings of a powerhouse in music. He was pushing the boundaries. Pushing perceptions of his abilities farther. Then he gave us "Holy Wood". Did you hear that? That. That right there. The thud sound. That was sound of Marilyn's ascent ending. Not that it wasn't as okay album, and those are to be expected after three straight good to excellent ones. The problems is that he followed a so-so album with a really bad one. On the surface "Golden Age of the Grotesque" is an okay album. Similar to the before it. On close inspection it come off more like an amateur Marilyn Manson impersonator with no writing talent than the man himself. I like Marilyn. He out of any of these guys, get a pass due to prior work. Due to the fact, this last album is his first real big stumble. If the next album continues the downward spiral (he-he. zing) then he gets lump with all the other ex lovers on my CD shelf.

I'm Talking to Myself Aren't I? pt2

2006-02-06T09:07:00.000-08:00

And now part two in a series called: I'm Talking to Myself Aren't I?

After the sobering reality of a my break I got into the more celebrated films. From the previous two films, I am fully expecting torture. Rested up and ready, I put in the movie High Noon. Like a white light shining down from the heavens, sent to purify my senses. A choir of angels sang the songs one would expect from such a profound moment. This movie was a kick ass western. Thank you god! (tough you only get a little g). High Noon stars Gary Cooper as a law man retiring to start a new life outside a world involving guns and violence. At the risk of redundancy, I really expected more of the same from this movie. You hear Gary Cooper and think "Hollywood fluff" ... well at least I do. I can see how I'd be alone on that. What i mean when I say "Hollywood fluff", I speak of the type of actor who has probably played his movie choice roles very safely. I don't think I've ever really heard of a Gary Cooper film, except for Mr. Deeds, but I do know people mention him in the same breath as Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, Bogart and Abbott and Costello (so what? they don't fit... I was running out of famous old movie stars) . He also gets a mention in "Putting on the Ritz" for what it's worth. What really struck a cord with me in this movie is the vividness of strength in Gary Coopers character Will Kane. What is great with Will is that he has all the movie trappings of a law man in the old west, strong moral fiber, will do the right thing even if it kills him, and expects those around him to band together in times of need. The filmmakers create world where these ideals exist and are shared on the surface with friends, but then tuens the table on them when the going gets tough. As if a comment in it's self on how westerns are built on these unreal ideologies, our lead spends the whole movie trying to round up a posse of townsfolk to stop a released criminal from setting up shop in town again. We're shown a well loved lawman within the first 4 minutes of the movie, who cleaned up a corrupt town, who 5 minutes from then is having trouble finding friendships he thought he had. This is unheard of in these types of movies. This movie was made in 1952 and took risks that even modern movie studios would have trouble making. Most western movies made around this time and before followed a formula that presented a cut a dry world were you know who the bad guys are, you know who the good guys are and you probably know how it's going to end. This type of movie wasn't supposed to exist during this time period. It's an anomaly. The good guy isn't supposed to have all these friends make excuse after excuse why the won't or can't help. He's got people in town he never knew hated him and would love to see him dead before the day is done. The man is literally an "ideal man" trapped in reality. It's his characters slow realization that makes not only the movie but the character so compelling and tragic. This is a great movie and should be seen and owned. So this is what a good western is like. Now I'm excited. Now I have optimism seeping from my pores. Next is True Grit.

Going in again I had reservations about watching a John Wayne movie. I had a better reason this time than any other apprehension I had about the other movies. I've seen a John Wayne film before. The Searchers. Although I liked the movie, I thought John Wayne came off like a wooden action figure (actions figures are not dolls!) with a pulley string in the back to make him talk. This movie killed any desire to see a John Wayne film again. But this is research I'm doing... I'm a professional... and professionals do what they gotta do.......... watch another movie. True Grit made in 1969 is a fine example of the western movie genre pulling away from ideal stereotypes to the anti-hero/no goodnick hero type. This is more my flavor... but that's a generational thing, and I know that. What stood out to me in this film is the strong writing of dialogue. The banter between Wayne's 'Rooster' Cogburn and Kim Darby's Mattie Ross is priceless. Darby's performance is priceless on it's own as well. In hindsight one wonders how Darby didn't have a bigger career. The flat out surprise of the film is John Wayne. He's actually alive in this film. I'm not sure if it was all that time between Searchers and this movie that he buckled down on his acting and really gave it a try, but it was appreciated. The movie was so engaging on a writing and acting level the overall outcome of what transpired was almost meaningless. That's how much fun sitting there watching everything unfold was. Oh my God! (you get a big g this time, but just this time) I'm actually starting to.... uh.... like (oh crap) westerns. A John Wayne movie no less to putting me in the black. The very fiber of my being is slowly morphing and what's scary is... (gulp) I don't mind.

Now I may have been having fun with the last two movies I watched, but I still felt I needed a palate cleanser. I needed a ringer of a movie. Enter good ole' Clint Eastwood. Ahhh. Refreshing. High Plains Drifter has been marked as one of Clint's strangest movies. Rightfully so. He plays another man with no name (which is how we like it) who.... drifts?... into a town that goes from desert to ocean in quite a short distance. He is town no longer than say... five minutes, maybe less before he's killed three people. This isn't your usual western town. Well for one thing, it's the only western film town I have never seen built right next to ocean and directly connected to the desert. This isn't a busy town. There are no strangers there, so when one comes in... all eyes are on him. I say him cause, come on... what woman rides into a strange town in middle nowhere? They don't! We all know women can't ride horses... it's physically impossible. Are you gonna question science?!?! I think not. And we digress. As the movie unfolds you begin to question even if Clint's character is a man or a spirit of vengeance brought about on the town for it's dark past. Sounds good huh? By the end of the movie, they've hidden the full scope of resolution so well you'll be stunned by it's subtext. In typical Eastwood cowboy movie fashion, violence is presented in a gritty "this is the evil of real world" sort way. This is what I want from my westerns and it was a lovely way to cap off my research/movie marathon.

But the research isn't quite over. I felt researching the genre of movie westerns would not be complete without seeing The Wild Bunch. This took a few extra days to get around to watching it. I had such good luck with two previous "classics" True Grit and High Noon that I thought I may be pushing my luck with a third "classic". Though I loved another Sam Peckinpah called Straw Dogs there was something about this film that worried me. It's was the classic status it was giving. The sheer number of times you hear people mention it as a inspiration film for them as an artist. I feared this movie couldn't possibly live up to that hype. I'm entitled to be wrong... and was. This movie was really kick ass. Your main characters are bad guys... really likable bad guys, which is quite a daring thing to ask of your audience. The Wild Bunch are band of robbers and murderers barely held together by loyalty. I'm not sure but I think this is the first time in cinema the audience was asked to follow such types as their leads. Not to mention (but of course I will... duh!) asked to sit through graphic depictions of violence. In the first 10 minutes of the movie someone has taken buckshot to the face and they SHOW IT! Granted not done as well as some of the blood and guts by today's standards, but the guy has a hunk of meat hanging from his face, followed by one of his friends (and I use this term loosely for this film) finishing him off. The lead, William Holden is one bad mofo' Considered to be the best ( a termed used describe him in the film) one would guess at being bad. These men live in a cut throat world where friendships can be a dangerous thing. Caring to much about the guy riding next to you could the difference a getaway and taking a bullet yourself. At the heart of the movie is the development of this problem. For a reason still escaping me (I'll watch it again to try to get a better grip) these men that make up the "Bunch" (Not this kind mind you) begin to care about each other. Where in the beginning they would just as soon shoot one of their own to get away then they would anyone else. Great concept to tackle in any film and finding it in a western... older western circa 1969... we'll call it the bronze age. It wasn't any given performance that made the film. It was the movie that as a whole that made the film. It was political and dark. It was a world of grey morals. Men didn't have qualms about shooting a cheating ho' in the belly. In actuality, if you could hold a gun they shot you. I do believe even a child gets at some point as well. In the beginning of the film a scene occurs that doesn't seem too relevant to the film just yet, that entails a bunch of children looking down into a small pit they've dug. In this pit are some scorpions fighting off and being overwhelmed by a fire ant attack. All the while the children look on mostly in enjoyment, some horror, and laugh as the scorpions begin to surcome to the inevitable end. They will die. This image reminded me so much of the Greek Gods staring down at there creations. In true Greek mythology fashion they put mortals through the wringer for pure enjoyment. There's nothing better to do when your all powerful. These children, to scale, are no exception. Powerful images and a thought provoking movie.

To cap things off. This experience has really opened up a new sect of movies I had otherwise shunned. Like with any genre of movies there will be good, there will be bad, and there certainly will be stab me in the eyes for they have been fouled types as well. My advice is to look at each cinematic experience as an opportunity to arouse that creative side in all of us. Something to dicuss and examine. And my advice is when the creative side is aroused and you engage in intercourse with it always make sure you are on the bottom, you'll have better control this way.

How the West Won Me Over.

2006-02-05T10:05:00.000-08:00

Outside of really enjoying Clint Eastwood westerns, I never had much interest in western movies. Especially the older ones. From the outside the medium seemed over simplified and glossed over to portray the growth of the west as a glorified righteous one. Guys singing songs on their way to capture and shoot the gun from out of the hand of the bad guy. Not to mention if you didn't know who this guy is... he's the one wearing black... ALL black. Guys like Roy Rogers ( God love him though... for all that great roast beef) Gene Autry, Hop-along Cassidy. Guys that would sooner kiss their horse than kiss a girl. I bring this up for the reason. Recently I entrenched myself in some old classic western films as research on something I'm working on. Part of me really dreaded the thought of sitting watching a bunch of crappy early Hollywood talky pictures. Well that's a lie... most of me dreaded it. I'll give you run down of what I rented:

Hop-along Cassidy Enters
The Man from the Alamo
High Noon
True Grit
The Wild Bunch
High Plains Drifter

What I tried to do was two things. The first was to cover a wide scope of western types and ones that were relative to the progression of film making in Hollywood. I wanted the glossy "let me sing you a song, no one gets hurt" type of western to the "we're gonna shoot someone in the face and were gonna show the audience" type of western. Now being familiar with some westerns, I lean more towards people getting shot in the face. Now... you may ask yourself, "What type of person really enjoys watching people get shot in the face in a movie?" Well I say to that... "If you want that type of lilly livered crap, I'm sure there's a blog out there discussing it. We are men here. Those of us who are women reading this blog... they're real men too." But we must digress to stay on track. The first movie I sat down to watch was "The Man From The Alamo". The movie stars Glenn Ford as a man who leaves his friends and comrades at the Alamo (lucky for him, not too long before they all die... hope I didn't give anything away there) to fight the Mexicans so that he can defend his family and those of his five friends he was fighting with from raiders. Though the movie was watchable and Glenn Fords performance was likable, the movie suffered from that glossy tendency Hollywood would lather onto it's films back then. Now I won't give away anything about the actual plot turns in the film as well as any of the other films I'll be talking about here, but I will discuss the good, the bad and the... well you fill in the rest.

For this film there is a lot more bad than good. Glenn Ford spends most of the picture accused of being a deserter and publicly trounced when possible. Now lets just be clear, Glenn Ford and his character are no doormat and can certainly kick any ones ass or clear his name anytime he feels he's ready. He just doesn't want to... until the end of course. This a world where the complexities of being wrongfully confused, compounded with being mistaken for taking up with the same men who killed your wife and kid can be explained as quickly as it takes you to get your monologue out your mouth. Never mind the character said almost the same thing in an explanation a half hour earlier. Also forget that guns have recoil and leave pretty big holes in people. Don't pay any attention to that jerking your gun forward as you shoot gives you great accuracy. Don't forget that Mexicans are really boys from the Mid-West in black face and have really bad accents. One of the things I loved about this movie is Glenn Ford's presence as a actor. He's a man's man type. He talks softly but when he does speak, he has something to say... and you better be listening. There aren't that many actors out there that command that type attention on screen. Another thing I really liked was a character trait he had, which again is tied into the male arch type of that era, was that it didn't matter what people got wrong about him he just wanted to avenge his family's death. His character could spend the rest of his life suffering for peoples misunderstanding of the type of man he was but he didn't need to be changing anyone's mind or proving his innocence. That wasn't important. People are going to believe what they want to and he was content with their perception. I think that is a refreshing take on "what a man should be" even though we are talking about a movie made in 1953. I think in most cases men in the movies and the men that write them would be tempted to portray their lead as a great guy but to hell if he's gonna let someone call him a coward, a deserter, or a murderer. So far not a terrible way to start a western marathon. It still hadn't made feel differently about my biases.

The next movie I popped in was "Hop-along Cassidy Enters". Ugh. Talk about taking a step backwards. This movie is a pure example of playing it safe. Where men want to puff out their chest and call for a fight for no reason one minute and the next, as if suffering from bi-polar disorder are apologizing the next. William Boyd/Hop-along Cassidy may be a fun character, and there are things to like, but he's reeks of squeaky clean cowboy crap like no other. Things you need to know: Hop-along is always right, he wants to shoot you for mouthin' off but shrugs it off but it better be followed with a sorry, and if you are going to get shot or die in his movie then you must do so off screen. Some of this is due to time period. They didn't have the tech to show people getting holes blasted in them, but one gets the impression (no it's not a subtle one) that they don't want to. They want you to believe this is how the west really was. Bad guy in black. Check. Shoot gun from hand. Check. Nobody really gets hurt. Check. Finally. The most important thing to remember. Your male relationships are more important than the possibility of getting laid by a woman. By today's standards we'd call that western Brokeback Mountain (zing). The psychological underpinnings of that message would suggest that there was some real latent homosexuality issues going on with the people involved with this movie. If you read a little up on William Boyd, you'll find that he was adamant on his character not being romantically linked to any of the female leads. Talk about Things that make you go Hmmmmmmmm. This movie did not help my western bias let alone like it as a movie.
Note: William Boyd was a favorite of my dad's growing up. The thing he remembered best about William Boyd was that he handled a gun more realistic than his contemporaries. He said "When Boyd fired the gun it had recoil". Well looky there. You've got to go back to 1935 to get a guy using a gun all proper like.

At this point I dreaded the thought of third movie. So I took a break. Hense this will conclude part one of a two part series called: I'm talking to myself aren't I?

2006-02-04T15:51:00.000-08:00

What are YOU talking about?

In the begining...

2006-02-04T11:33:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my blog! Now this welcome can very well be a hardy hello to myself. We'll see about that. I started this blog with the hopes of creating a outlet for sharing my thoughts on music, movies, and any random thought that may enter my skull. Mostly movie and music reviews. We'll see how this thing goes. I don't know too much about blogging, except all the cool people are doing it. I'll be damned if I won't jump on that bandwagon! Come back again when I'll have more to say then some crumby intro.