(500) Days of Summer Review

Before I launch into this, I wanted to let you all know that I will be out of town for the next few days, so the blog may end up resting for a bit. Hopefully, Deidre will be able to get us some words, and I have a couple half-written columns that I may or may not have time to finish and upload. We'll see. For now, enjoy...



There used to be a time when the word “indie” referred to the process by which a film was made – that is, low budget adaptations that contrasted the Hollywood establishment. Such films featured shaky handheld cameras instead of tripods, B-level celebrities instead of stars, dim lighting instead of the bright Hollywood illumination. In that sense, (500) Days of Summer is a bit of an oddity – a film that uses fixed shots, A-list actors, and bright lights, but that somehow still manages to ooze indie vibe throughout.

One can’t deny that indies have evolved heavily in the last decade or so. Where once the genre was typified by movies like the family drama Pieces of April, tonally sullen but with a strong emphasis on storytelling and realism, now, it is possibly better represented by Juno, or Chumscrubber, brighter films where conceptualism often trumps the narrative.

Don’t be alarmed, though, if (like me) these “Hollywood Indies” (trademark) are generally not for you. (500) Days of Summer may display many tropes of the genre, but it is able to avoid falling into the field altogether because of the unflinching truthfulness of the story.


(500) tells the chronologically shuffled tale of Tom Hanson (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a passionate greeting card writer who falls hard for his new coworker Summer Finn (Zooey Deschanel).

- Indie trope #1 – the quirky yet thematically significant job title. See also: Garden State’s armor-clad lad who works as a knight at a local Renaissance fair.

After a few weeks of drooling over her, Tom finally gets close to Summer at an office party. Though he tries (as so many of us do) to play it cool, hiding his feelings so as not to appear too desperate, Summer can see through the charade and instigates a romance.

But there’s a catch: A perfect incarnate of the free-spirited modern day Flapper, Summer refuses to label the relationship, much to the chagrin of Tom’s inner romantic. It’s clear that the relationship will operate according to her rules, and falling in love does not seem to be a realistic possibility.

As I said earlier, the story is chronologically shuffled, but a ticker identifying which number day (out of the 500) we are in makes it easy to understand. And, as in a similar movie about relationships, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, juxtaposing the different phases the couple goes through (the beginning as well as the end, the good times as well as the bad) allows the viewer to really feel close to the protagonists, understanding how the couple functions for better and for worse.

Though he has clearly been told that they are not boyfriend and girlfriend, Tom falls hard for Summer almost in spite of himself. Just how hard he falls is made clear by some non-realistic sequences…

- Indie Trope #2 – Throughout the movie, surreal sequences give us an insight to the main character’s feelings. A song breaks out after the couple’s first hook-up; on a bus, everybody looks exactly like Summer because he can’t stop thinking about her. Compare this to, say, the rose petal sequences in American Beauty (admittedly not an indie, but a movie most people are familiar with), or, say, Chumscrubber, where a woman screams silently to herself so that you, the viewer, know that she is in pain.



Perhaps sensing that Tom is starting to feel too close to her, Summer ends the relationship, throwing Tom into a funk so acute that he cannot even find a positive phrase to write on a greeting card (resulting in his demotion to the bereavements department). While the rest of the movie follows Tom trying to get Summer back, an unexpected (and, perhaps, out-of-character) twist complicates any attempt at a further relationship.

- Indie Trope #3 - the girl’s name is Summer, so we in the audience know that she exists as both a character and a concept. This allows for the characters’ actions to have a deeper meaning (i.e. Tom has to “get Summer back”… get it?). Sort of like naming the protagonist John Everyman -

But for all the indie-tastic distractions of (500), the story itself is poignant and truthful, perhaps one of the best depictions of the modern-day relationship that I’ve ever seen. Unlike many of today’s romantic comedies, it eschews the steady progression of relationship milestones leading up to the altar (first kiss, first intimacy, buildup of trust, survival of a challenge, and… voila! Marriage!), showing that truthfully, coupling is messy, organic, and subjective. What looks like love to one person may feel like suffocation to another.

Most importantly, though, relationships are often about finding oneself. For instance, it is only after Summer breaks off relations with Tom that he is able to rediscover his love for architecture, growing in a way that could have never happened without both the relationship and the heartbreak. Summer grows from the relationship as well, perhaps even more radically than Tom.

Don’t expect to glean a clear message from (500) Days of Summer, but you can anticipate finding numerous nuggets of wisdom in this smart, funny, and honest look at love in Generation Y. As in life, meaning comes only in small bites of truth taken one-at-a-time, rather than a meal eaten all at once. As Tom and Summer show, it’s these small bites that slowly feed our sense of purpose and allow us to develop.

Politics Sunday

Before the politics, a quick addendum to Sports Saturday: Aaron Harang looked pretty good yesterday, giving up only 3 runs in 7 innings, all on home runs (thank you very much Great American Smallpark) – while the Reds offense did not. Some early firepower fizzled out in the later innings, with Cubs pitching holding the Reds to only one or two hits after the 4th inning. Oh, and Reds hitters fanned 13 times (striking out more than twice times as the White Sox had all season going into yesterday).

You cannot have a team that strikes out this much. It makes it impossible to have any kind of rally, forcing the Reds to rely almost exclusively on home runs (which only rarely come when needed). Teams are throwing first pitch strikes to nearly every Reds batter, because they will either take the pitch or swing for the fences and whiff. Come on, guys. We’re starting practically every AB in a 0-1 hole. Shorten up the swings and try to poke a single. It’ll eventually pay off and pitchers will start having to throw some balls to start an AB.

Now onto Supreme Sunday!

John Paul Stevens announced earlier this week that he’d be retiring, and boy will I miss him! I’ll miss that snappy little bow tie, his ancient jowls, his liberal disposition. But, he’s 89 years old. It’s time.

From what I’ve heard, it appears that the liberal members of the court – er, ahem… Democrat-appointed members, have a plan to retire one by one each year of Barack Obama’s tenure in office. This is less a good plan than it is a necessity. It’s clear that the Republican-appointed members of the court will nearly always be unanimous in supporting the conservative side of a decision. That much was clear when they decided to allow corporations to spend freely on elections, a ridiculous decision that one could only come to if seeking to support conservative interests over a proper reading of the law.

(Fine. I am not a lawyer, and I have no real law experience, but I think it’s pretty clear that corporations should not be given the same spending rights as people. I also think it’s clear that giving them that right will certainly help Republican election chances more than it will help the Democrats [although unions can spend freely now as well]. But mostly, the decision puts politicians further into the pockets of special interests, and makes elections more about money than ideas)

So now the liberal members of the court, some of them hanging on by a thread (Justice Stevens was 89. 89!) are planning to retire one by one so Barack Obama can replenish their stocks. It’s unofficial, but seems to me a very calculated plan.

Sadly, the Supreme Court - a body that was meant to be mostly apolitical (which is why there are lifetime appointments) - has become a reflection of the current political landscape in this country: staunch and partisan.

Here's something interesting to think about: Justice Stevens, considered to be the leading liberal on the court, was confirmed 98-0 by the Senate. Antonin Scalia, the court's most mega-conservative, was confirmed 97-0 by the Senate. We'll talk more of Scalia another time (boy, can I talk about Scalia...) but something should strike you by those two facts. It's impossible to imagine even the most centrist of justices being confirmed without any "nays" today, and it's disheartening to see that we've moved into a time when the process of even approving a Supreme Court Justice has become such a divisive matter.

Another interesting thing about Stevens is that he was not considered a liberal at the time of his appointment. Roe v. Wade had just been decided, yet he was asked no questions about the decision during his confirmation hearings (and debate on his confirmation lasted only 5 minutes or so). Rather, it was his support of the death penalty that was looked on as the most important acid test at the time. He was originally for it.

One thing that I really like about Stevens is that he showed the ability to evolve. Serving 34 years on the country's highest legal body, you would expect that one would learn something here and there, and eventually experience change. Stevens, originally thought to be more of a centrist, would become ardently liberal, even changing his opinion on the issue that got him to the court in the first place: the death penalty. Flip-flopping has become a heresy in this country, but I would think that the most intelligent minds are those that are able to adapt to changing circumstances. It takes great courage to look at oneself and realize that you were wrong about something - it takes even more to admit it through actions.

It was just two years ago, in Baze v. Rees, that [Justice Stevens] renounced his support for the death penalty in an opinion grounded not in abstract principle but in years of sorrowful observation of how the death penalty was actually being administered under statutes and Supreme Court opinions that cut off avenues of appeal.

- NY Times


I guess it's not exactly admitting that he was wrong before, but it's still a significant contradiction of his previous self. To me, this represents the epitome of what a Supreme Court judge should be. It shouldn't be about finding someone who adheres to the Democratic or Republican dogmas, but rather, finding someone with a brilliant legal mind and an ability to be moved by good argument. How many of the current justices do you think go into each case already knowing which side that they will take? Scalia for sure. And this is damaging not only to the evolution of the law, but also to the spirit of our legal system.

Now, what are the chances that Barack Obama will appoint someone without thoroughly vetting where they stand on every major Democratic issue? None, whatsoever - and again, this is a necessity with the current political landscape (if you replaced one or two liberal justices with conservatives, it's possible the court could overturn Roe v Wade, and who knows what else), but we need to acknowledge that there is a problem with the high court's polarization. We need to make sure that it is justice and not politics that defines our legal system.

Here's a good article about Stevens and his evolution while on the court.

Sports Saturday

First I’d like to start off by celebrating myself for completing my first 10 mile (or so) run outdoors. I’d done it once before on the treadmill, but this was quite a different experience. A perfect day to go running: cool temperature, not many people on the lake shore, lots of sun. My midway point was the end of Navy Pier – which is a great view of Chicago's skyline that looks even better when you’ve had to work to get there.

Running is so new to me and something that I’ve never felt like I could do before. I don’t think I’d ever run more than a couple miles in one sitting before this year, but it’s amazing what you can do if you have some determination and free time to devote to something.

Lots of knee and lower back pain though. I definitely will be out of commission for tomorrow – but I feel much less wiped than after I did the first 10-miler. Also, I think I’m attending a friend’s fitness workshop thing Sunday, so if you see me this weekend, just assume that I’m in a lot of physical pain.

Now, to the sports!

Ah, Opening Day, a tradition unlike any other...

It’s especially great if you’re from Cincinnati, for we were the inaugurators of professional baseball. In 1882, the Cincinnati Red Stockings, made up entirely of paid athletes went undefeated, and from then on America was hooked on pro baseball.

And how does America show thanks for the Queen City’s contribution to our culture? By continuing to allow the Cincinnati Reds to host the first game of the year (well, the first Opening Day game – I’m not counting the bullshit Red Sox–Yankees orgy that took place the Sunday before), and broadcasting it on national television. It’s really the least they can do.

So there I was, a member of the Cincinnati Diaspora living in Chicago on Opening Day of baseball season. If the Reds aren’t playing the Cubs, usually the only way to see a game is to go to a bar… and I’m poor. On occasion there is a nationally broadcast game, but those are rare and don't really happen until midsummer. But no matter what, like clockwork, the Reds will be on TV on Opening Day, so I made myself a large plate of spaghetti, settled into my couch’s ass-groove, and started to take in the first few innings – feeling the renewing life forces of spring flow through me. Then, just as Aaron Harang readied himself to throw yet another hanging curve over the plate.

“A tradition unlike any other… the Masters.”

All of a sudden, I’m not in Great American Ballpark anymore. I’ve been transported to some strange world where baseball is played not in a ballpark, but in a press room. And the players are not so much ballplayers as they are news reporters and a single, very downtrodden-looking man at a podium.

That’s right. They cut the Reds Opening Day broadcast for a press conference with Tiger Woods. No golf would be played at the Masters until Thursday, yet so important this press conference was, on Opening Day (a Monday) no baseball could be found anywhere on ESPN until it was over.

Well, I assumed with a press conference this important that Tiger Woods might be admitting that he used HGH or something. But, no. “Tiger, why didn’t you come back to golf sooner?” “Tiger, will Elin be joining you at the Masters?” “Tiger, how have the other golfers behaved towards you since you’ve been back?”

Ok, it’s time for the High Horse Blog to take a stand. It was one thing when the news media was blatantly destroying a man’s life to jack some television ratings – it’s another when it interferes with me watching the Reds. This is all that can and should be said about the whole thing: almost every married couple has some kind of problem at some point with fidelity. The percentages get even higher when one spouse lives in a separate residence for much of the year. If you cheated on your significant other, it would probably be a bad thing to do, but you wouldn’t expect it to mean anything to anyone other than your significant other, your families, and maybe some close friends.

If every athlete that had cheated on their spouse came out of the woodwork, and was tarred and feathered in the same way that Tiger Woods was, nearly all of sports would completely crumble. Except for Tim Tebow – that all-American goody-two-shoes – we should at the very least not be surprised at marital infidelity.

But either way, it’s just plain rude the way that the media, sponsored corporations, and fans have broken down Tiger. It’s not like this guy was a politician campaigning on “family values” and then was caught cheating. All he did was hit golf balls. For all I care, Tiger Woods could be into mutant lesbian bondage porn (I think that exists) and as long as it doesn’t affect his golf swing, we shouldn’t bat an eye. His kind of celebrity is different than that of, say, the Kardashians, whose fame stems from asking the public to care about them. Tiger never asked us to care, we just did.

So it’s good to see that he’s doing well at the Masters. I hope he wins, frankly, and we can get this whole stupid episode behind us. Tiger will continue his march towards Nicklaus’s 18 major victories, and probably will face sexual relapse within the next two years. Oh well. As long as I’m not friends with Elin, and as long as his exploits don’t get in the way of my Reds again, I’m over it.

Speaking of the Reds, opening week thoughts:

The Reds are a very fortunate 2-2. Neither their defeats nor their victories have looked very pretty. Johnny Gomes's walk-off homer on Thursday was the only thing that saved a brilliant day by Bronson Arroyo, and prior to the Stubbs Slam Friday, the Reds offense was looking absolutely anemic. As usual, the Reds offense has been playing only to the level of its competition - they seem to only get runs when the other team has already scored a few, and if Reds pitching is good, their batting usually is not.

This is not the way to win games. The bats really need to come around for Brandon Phillips and especially Jay Bruce. Right now, it's strikeout after strikeout in the heart of our order. Bruce is really trying to muscle things rather than try for good contact. Phillips, I think, is being affected by that 4-spot in the lineup. He's perfectly designed to be a 2-spot hitter, by batting him cleanup, it's forcing him to try to become a home run hitter, which he can't sustain for a season.

Think about this order:
Stubbs
Phillips
Votto
Bruce
Cabrera
Rolen
Gomes
Hernandez
Pitcher

That's a pretty potent team with good power and run-scoring potential all throughout. The key to making it happen is having Jay Bruce mature as a hitter.

By the way, so far, Drew Stubbs and Orlando Cabrera have looked great this year. They are having real quality at-bats, making it tough for pitchers even when the end result is not a hit. Stubbs's power is nice, but much more important to the team is having someone who has the potential to get hits in the leadoff spot. If we can get some early scoring opportunities, I think it would help pick up the pitchers, who at moment probably feel like they have to go out and pitch a perfect game every time to even have a chance.

Speaking of pitching, I'm starting to worry about Aaron Harang. He looked real poor in the opener - he's pitching today so I'll get a good chance to take a look at him. He keeps saying that he's retooling his mechanics, but I think he might just be washed up (Oh! Don't say it!). Cueto and Bailey were shaky, but I don't think their outings tell you much in terms of trends. And how about Bronson! A dandy of a game Thursday, and even after being injured, he'll be ready to go Tuesday. It's rare to have the type of Iron Man pitcher like Bronson, but it's an asset. No matter what, you can count on about 13-15 wins, a lot of innings, and no health problems. Hat's off to you Bronson.





And a quick and final addendum about the bullpen: Asides from Ondrusek's debacle on Wednesday, and, of course, Masset's shelling on Opening Day, it's looked pretty solid. A good mix of pitchers - a few power arms, a few crafty guys, some wily veterans, and (though he gave me a heart attack last night) a proven closer. I'm not too worried about it.

Allright, hat's off. Tomorrow is politics Sunday and we've got a Supreme Court to discuss.

Film Friday

I think it's a good thing that Clash of the Titans is being remade. Because, as Jon Stewart said (or maybe Colbert, they both run together so often), even bad movies deserve to get remade.

The first Clash of the Titans starred Lawrence Olivier as a toga-touting Zeus that spoke with a trippingly light, slightly effeminate air. Alongside him was a who's who of classically trained actors who probably spent most of the filming process wondering, "what the Hell is this movie? Why am I in it? Why was it ever made? And how am I getting paid this much money to do it? The special effects in the original Clash of the Titans can only be described as 80's-tastic. Remember how corny the ghosts looked in Ghostbusters, but how it was sort of a jokey kind of bad that worked for the movie? Well, Medusa looks exactly like that in this misguided epic - except that it wasn't meant to be a joke.

But the original Clash of the Titans really is a joke. Literally one of the worst movies of all time - the kind of movie that you would only pull out if you wanted to make fun of how awful it is. Which begs the question, "Why does it get a remake?"

We are approaching a point of critical mass, where one day 51 percent of all movies made will either be a remake, a sequel, a biopic, or based on a book. There is already a stranglehold on the epic genre. The biggest movies currently at the box office are Alice in Wonderland (remake) and Clash of the Titans - but if we look back at the biggest moneymakers in 2009 the trend is clear: Transformers (sequel), Harry Potter (sequel), Twilight (sequel), Star Trek (remake [sort of]), The Blind Side (Based on a true story), Alvin and the Chipmunks (Squeaquel), Sherlock Holmes (based on a book), Ice Age (Sequel), X-men Origins: Wolverine (Sequel).

In fact - I never thought I'd do this - I have to take my hat off to Avatar and 2012 for being the sole big-budget movies to use an original script (using the term "original" loosely).

The future is clear - I can see it now. There will be remakes upon remakes upon remakes - can you see it? Are you already imagining the next incarnation of the Rocky series (starring Gerard Butler, I'm sure)? If we reach the critical mass where more movies that come out are sequels and remakes than originals, then Hollywood will start a vicious cycle of consuming itself and then regurgitating itself until it finally is unable to support its own voracious rate of reconsumption, and collapses under its own bloated weight.

Like a dying star.

It's not like I don't understand why this whole sequel/remake/based on/biopic craze happened - I get it that when big money is being thrown around for this movie and that, an executive has to be sure that there is a built in fan base for something before he gives the OK. That means, stuff like Twilight will get the funding because - even if the movie is silly and makes no sense - it is nearly guaranteed not to lose money.

Ok, fine. But that doesn't explain Clash of the Titans. Almost nobody under the age of forty really even knows about the original movie (made in 1981), and those who do know it use it as punchlines to jokes. It stars Lawrence Olivier for God's sake. You know, the stage actor from the black and white version of Hamlet. Yeah, there's some real star power to fuel this epic. It would be like casting Kevin Kline in Troy... hmm... ok that could be pretty entertaining.

But here's my belief: I think it might be possible that Clash of the Titans got a sequel simply because of its title. Admit it, it's a pretty cool title for a movie. Those words, "Clash," "Titans," they have such an epic feel to them. They bring you right into that netherworld where fantasy and reality mix together so harmoniously. Nevermind the fact that in Clash of the Titans there are no Titans. It's all about the title having zazz, putting butts in the seats based purely off how the movie sounds.

There's a Kraken too. If you've seen commercials for the new Titans you probably knew that already. "Release the Kraken" is basically the tagline for the multi-million dollar advertising blitz on the movie. America has a new obsession with Krakens ever since Pirates of the Caribbean 2 came along. I think it has something to do with that weird tentacle porn from Japan, but anyway...

If you're looking for this posting to have any sort of coherence or deep meaning, I'm sorry, but you'll be quite disappointed. This is just my version of muttering to myself like a cantankerous old man whose matzoh ball soup was a little too cold. I just don't get why Clash of the Titans gets a remake - it's terrible. Then again, I suppose Troll 2 (even more terrible) is getting a remake as well. So it appears that Bad is en vogue.

Want proof that the original Titans is really that bad? Check out this 8-minute clip from the climax of the movie.

Theatre Thursday

Before today’s gab, big thanks to a friend who was very complimentary of yesterday’s Precious review. It always feels nice to hear things like that.

Also, Yahtzee! I appear to have found a way to pirate Reds games online. Do I feel bad about skirting the law? Hell no! I wouldn’t have to do this if MLB would allow 700 WLW to Broadcast online during game time. How else do they expect me to follow the team from Chicago? ESPN gamecast? – well, it wouldn’t be so bad a thing to do if my computer actually had a decently long battery life so I could watch something else at the same time.

Baseball is the only sport that I think might be better to listen to than to watch on TV. The broadcasters are much better (in Cincinnati anyway). For my money, one of the best summers of my life was just after senior year of college – I had no cable and my pal and I listened to every game on the radio each night while playing video games. And, I was working as a pizza delivery man, and could listen to the games in my car. Nothing better.

By the way, as I speak, the Reds are holding on to their first lead of the year. Can they keep it? I don’t know, Pujols is up. We’ll have full analysis of the Reds’ first week as well as Masters coverage on Saturday.

But it’s Theatre Thursday! And here’s today’s essay, entitled:

Am I One of the Infected?

If you’re into low-budget, but highly artistic theatre, you should check out Ozma and Harriet at the Side Project in Chicago. This Tympanic Theatre offering will run you only $12, and was one of the most entertaining and intellectually stimulating nights of theatre that I’ve had in a long time – an example of the caliber of creative work that can be seen with only a minimal budget (running through April 18th, so hurry).

Ozma and Harriet is science fiction in the vein of the Twilight Zone or an Isaac Asimov novel. Taking place in 1991, it’s mostly the world as we know it, with the exception of the presence of a highly realistic android named Ozma built by workaholic scientist Frank Younger. We know that we are in 1991 because Frank’s shut-in wife, Harriet has nothing to fill her lonely Friday nights (Frank is off working, of course) but sitting and watching TGIF - the titan of ABC’s early 90’s Friday night lineups, featuring such classics as Full House, Dinosaurs, Family Matters, and Boy Meets World.

Though Harriet has been warned by Frank against interacting with Ozma (Frank wanting sole control over what the humanoid is taught), curiosity gets the best of her. She activates and befriends Ozma, teaching him the joys of human existence (laughing, friendship, relationships) in contrast to the purely analytical knowledge that Frank gives him. Mostly, they sit and watch a lot of TV. Ozma learns to perfectly ape all of the TGIF lineup, and Harriet starts to feel close with him as her husband becomes more and more distant.

Eventually, the relationship of Ozma and Harriet takes a romantic and sexual turn. Frank discovers what has happened and, blinded by jealousy, sets a deadly trap for his wife if anything ever happens a second time. When it does, Ozma is left confused and friendless, with his only remaining connection to the world being TGIF. In the play’s second act, we see his mind wholly consumed by television – so strongly does it have a hold on him that he can hardly distinguish between a show and reality. If he were to smack someone in the face with a frying pan a la Dinosaurs, he would hardly know whether it would cause pain or uncontrollable laughter.

Though Ozma is an android, how different is his plight from that of a real human being? One of the reasons that Ozma and Harriet works is that the constant presence of TGIF tropes is recognizable to us and, in fact, meaningful. How many twenty-somethings of today remember sitting and watching TGIF every Friday – reruns or no. We knew all of Steve Urkel’s eccentricities as well as we knew those of our best friends. We felt closer to Uncle Jesse than we did to our own siblings. And this extends to all of the major television shows of our youth – I spent countless hours watching and rewatching Nickelodeon (Doug, Hey Arnold, Ren & Stimpy) and Disney (Animaniacs, Pinky & the Brain) – taking in as much from television as I did in my school classes.

But was this a double-edged sword? As Ozma & Harriet points out, television does indeed teach valuable lessons of morality, and familiarizes us with the ways of the world. At the same time, overexposure can be a type of infection, skewing one’s mind into thinking that all of life can be wrapped up into neat little stories, simple lessons, clear morality.

This led me to wonder, am I one of the Infected? Did I watch so much television in my youth that I’ve intrinsically warped my view of the world? And if so, is there a way for me to “wake up?”

I think of two examinable cases: Firstly, I look at my view of the world as an artist. After recently directing a comedy, how much did TGIF affect my choices? The answer is, quite a bit. My inherent understanding of comic rhythms was taught by and will forever be informed by TV episodes. Just like taking a poetry class teaches how different styles of verse work (their uses, advantages, disadvantages) constantly viewing Family Matters and Hey Arnold teaches the way that different types of jokes affect an audience, and how art communicates with viewers.

Is this a bad thing? Not necessarily. As an artist, one needs to find ways to gain that feel for how to manipulate audiences – just as a basketball player needs ten thousand hours of practice to learn the feel of the ball, an artist needs ten thousand hours of viewing and watching the affects of other art - that’s why watching theatre is considered a business expense for theatre artists. Of course, true artists branch away from the establishment, but in order to do so, they need to have a knowledge of what the establishment is.


Case number two: Getting the babe.

One undeniable trope of Disney, TGIF, and Nickelodeon is for the main character to get the girl by the end of the episode. Cory has his Topanga, Urkel has Laura, and every single Disney hero is rewarded for their exploits with a relationship of some sort (see Hercules, the Lion King, Aladdin). I think that an unsaid but clearly visible theme of all youth programming is that morality is rewarded with sexuality. Steve Urkel eventually gets Laura not because he learns how to be attractive to her, but because he constantly proves his worth as a person through moral acts.

It’s nice that we are trying to teach our children morality on television, but it is also problematic. It teaches adherence to an absolute creed, which any adult knows is not useful in analyzing the complexities of a decision to be made as an adult. And moreover, associating relationships with such morality warps the way we think of ourselves and our sexual lives. That is, if we’re not getting any, it would appear to be a judgment of not just a person’s attraction to you, but of your actual worth as a person. I don’t have a girl? I must not be a moral person – all of my decisions must be wrong.

Nobody really thinks consciously about this, but I do believe that these seeds exist in many of us because of the prevalence of a certain type of TV when we were young. To answer my original question, yes, I do feel like I am one of the Infected, and I feel that part of becoming an adult is learning to cure oneself of these wholly powerful, but wholly misguided assumptions about how the world works. When you are young, and everything is new, you try to learn as much about the world as fast as possible, without any regard to evaluating the quality of the teacher. Growing up is about critiquing not just what you learn, but the sources of that learning.

TGIF may not be the Rage Virus of 28 Days Later, but that doesn’t mean it had no ability to zombify us in our, as F. Scott Fitzgerald described it, “…younger and more vulnerable years.”

Precious review

For me, a review of Lee Daniels’s Precious, based on the novel “Push” by Sapphire, has to start not with the protagonist – an obese sixteen-year-old living in inner-city New York named Claireece “Precious” Jones (Gabourey Sidibe) – but with her mother, Mary, whose haunting and brilliant portrayal by Monique is certainly, for me, the most memorable aspect of this dark picture.


When I say that Mary is Precious’s mother, I am using the term extremely loosely. Though technically this abusive, bile-spewing woman did birth Precious and does keep the house where she lives, certainly she does not resemble the sort of loving figure that most of us think of when we use the term “parent.” Rather, Mary is dangerous and vitriolic, only showing any kind of tenderness towards her daughter when there is a social worker present to keep her in check.
Assaulting Precious in a myriad of ways – a frying pan to the head, an abusive spoken tirade, complicity in her husband’s rape of the young girl – Mary inspires fear even while seeming broken-down, slow-moving, and perpetually tired. When Precious hands her mother her newborn child (Precious’s second begotten by her father – the first suffering from Down’s Syndrome), we cringe knowing that something so tender can be so easily broken by such a demonic loose cannon.

But for as much as we hate Mary, a final monologue in which she attempts to explain her allowance of her husband’s rape of Precious gives a stunning vision of humanity to this monster. “Who else was gonna’ love me?” she stammers, fighting through tears. In this one, incandescent moment, Monique is able to show how the quicksand of depression, loneliness, and poverty can rip away one’s soul, sap away his or her humanity despite even the best efforts.

Such a dynamic performance is key to making Precious work. The film is not, as many critics have said, about bludgeoning the audience with the uber-grotesque imagery of life in the inner-city slums (although, be warned, there is a LOT of painful imagery) – rather, it is about one girl moving to conquer her past, breaking loose of the shackles of pain and pessimism that would seem to push her towards becoming just like Mary.

The main arc of Precious concerns the title character switching from an inner-city public school system (in which she is still held back in junior high) to a special teaching program called Each One Teach One. At her new school, she falls under the wing of Ms. Rain (Paula Patton), an encouraging and relentless teacher who pushes her students to write and write and write on a daily basis, knowing that literacy is the only way to truly open the minds of these troubled kids. None of the stereotypes of the “How do I reach these kids” movies (e.g. Sister Act 2, Stand and Deliver, Take the Lead, and SO many more) apply. Ms. Rain feels very real, and her crusade to help Precious – which, by the end of the movie, goes far beyond the call of duty – seems heroic, but not pandering.

Even while in her new school, Precious remains under Mary’s roof, still taking in the raw hatred that seems to come trippingly off her tongue. But a horrific event in which Mary attempts to murder Precious’s newborn child prompts the girl to seek safety. It is when she is finally away from Mary that we really see Precious take strides forward towards being able to have an active life. She finds love in the arms of Ms. Rain and her classmates and we actually see her smile from time to time (I don’t think she smiles once in the first hour of the movie). But Precious will be tested further, and must choose whether to give in to her painful past and settle for the continued spiral into spiritual decay, or to break the cycle once and for all.

What I really liked about this movie is that it refuses to let the audience judge the characters. When you see a random person on the street as obese as Precious, you may think, “Geez, she should just lay off the junk food.” But when you see scenes in which Mary forces her child to constantly cook greasy, fried foods and then eat the leftovers whether she wants to or not, it becomes impossible to make such judgments (would you really want to tell someone who hits you with a frying pan that you aren’t going to cook what she wants).

But, likewise, when we hear Mary’s gut wrenching speech at the end, we must think twice before condemning her outright.

What Precious is really trying to do is use this horrendous story to depict the complexities of our broken down welfare state. Like in season 4 of The Wire (probably my all-time favorite season of television), we see that the seeds of violence and abuse are sewn from an early age in ways that are uncontrollable and oftentimes leave one powerless to break away from it. Precious is punctuated by vivid musical sequences in which Precious visualizes herself as a Broadway singer, or imagines herself on the cover of a magazine. We also see a real scene in which Mary dons a blond wig and dances around the living room while watching tv – for me, the vision of a similar dream that had died and left nothing but vapors. Monique’s frightening portrayal of what Precious could become makes the girl’s struggle to break away from that predestination vital and earnest.

To an extent, I did think that by the end of the film, each new trouble that befell Precious started to read like a laundry list of horrors, but I think that this is just a result of some clunkiness in the screenplay, and didn’t seem to me like overkill thrown in to gain the audience’s sympathy as some have suggested. Surely, some people will think that it’s just too much to take, but for me, a story this real, this deftly written, and with such vivid performances is one that needs to be told and heard far more often.

HHB Comes Roaring Back!

Hello to all you HHB devotees. Let me express my apologies for the lack of material in the last two weeks - your humble (a lie) narrator has been off dilly-dallying with other important matters, but he's back now and intends for this week to show a whole flurry of articles. So pay attention because more really is coming.

Before I leave you with Deidre, is it just me, or was there a pretty good basketball game on last night? One of the best finishes to a national championship game I've ever seen, except, oh yeah, Duke won. But it was a terrific game, heavy on the defense, with Butler fighting all the way. Can you imagine if that last shot had gone in...

But no, it was not to be. In the year of great upsets at the NCAA tourney, a number 1 seed (Duke, at that) still won. Evil reins this year. Duke and the Yankees are the national champions.

By the way, look closely in the background when the last shot misses and you'll see one of the coaches fall down onto the ground. Hilarrrrious!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdTidmRqrIc

I had already promised some friends I would use last night to watch Precious, so I had to have the game on in the background while taking that in - not recommended. It's sort of like Jerry Seinfeld making out during Schindler's List. If you're going to see Precious, plan to devote all of your focus to it - not the type of movie that's conducive to multitasking. Review tomorrow.

And heeeere's Deidre:

Dear Deidre,

I've recently become interested in a person that I work with and am not sure if she likes me in the same way. She's seemed flirty with me from time to time, but I'm not sure if she's actually interested or just a flirty person in general. I'm doing my best to try to show her I'm interested, but since we usually only see each other at work, I can only take it so far. I'm worried that if I ask her out and she's not interested, it'll get around to all my coworkers and be very awkward for me. What's the best way to proceed?

Sincerely,

Workin' Hard's Hardly Workin'



Dear Workin’ Hard’s Hardly Workin,’

This is a toughy, and a situation that a lot of people find themselves in. (Myself included!) Good thing it is still legal to ask a co-worker out! I’m sure your fuzzy, lovestruck mind wasn’t too concerned about legal liability, but just as a word to the wise, sexual harassment in the workplace law suits are on the rise! You’ll want to make sure that your company doesn’t have a specific policy that forbids employee dating, especially if this chick is a superior.

Unfortunately, there is that type of woman out there who is just innately, constantly, and annoyingly flirty. It’s just in her nature. Maybe daddy didn’t give her enough attention or something and now she seeks it out from every male in sight. But, a good way to tell the difference between Miss I want Everybody and the real deal is to observe her interactions with your other male co-workers. Is she just as flirty with John or with Bob? If so, then maybe she’s not specifically interested in you. However, if it appears to be that she only acts this way around you, maybe it’s the real deal.

How much do you like this job? Do you imagine yourself with this company for the long-term? If so, you may not want to risk it. The awkwardness that could follow a potential rejection might get in the way of your career goals. On the other hand, if you’re not totally committed to the place or the position, then I say go for it. Girls like guys that show they are interested (granted, don’t show up with balloons and flowers and candy and cry whenever you see her), so give her some sort of signal that shows your interest. I wouldn’t suggest a one on one date request right off the bat. Tell her that you and some of your friends are going out for drinks at so-and-so bar and ask if she would like to come along. If the two of you end up attached at the hip all night, then bravo! If not, feel out how awkward it either was or wasn’t and decide if you should ask her out again.

If you do start dating her, remember that you are not on a “date” at work. Don’t act overly flirty and touchy-feely while you’re on the job. No trysts in the employee coat closet or feel ups behind the water cooler. This can get VERY aggravating to your co-workers; not to mention, you’ll probably gross each other out and find yourself without any time away from this love nest.

Bottom line – ask her out casually. If she says no, and her excuse sounds legitimate, try again in a week or so. If she says no while saying something like “oh, well my cat needs me to spend more time with him this Friday night, so sorry,” then take the hint. (Note to all of my friends – I really mean it when I say that). Go out in a group and have a good time.

Good luck, workin’ hard (and hopefully, workin’ it)!
Deidre