Oscar nominations

The only real surprise is that there aren't any real surprises. MUNICH got in after all, which tells me something political is in the air out in Hollywood- something that says we need to address serious worldly issues instead of worrying about crowd-pleasing hits. Oh man, are the conservative pundits going to have a field day...

Hey, I just noticed... One awesome surprise is that "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp" got a best song nomination. Not that it's that great a song ("Whoop That Trick" is much cooler), but it's still pretty awesome that they went for it. Hope Terrence wears his wife-beater and DJay pendant when he's onstage.

BEST PICTURE
Brokeback Mountain
Capote
Crash
Good Night, and Good Luck
Munich
My thoughts: Guess it didn't matter that MUNICH wasn't a big hit, or that it wasn't as huggable as Spielberg's previous Oscar-nominated films. Maybe they just realized that WALK THE LINE, music and performances aside, just wasn't anything special.

BEST DIRECTOR
George Clooney, Good Night, and Good Luck
Paul Haggis, Crash
Ang Lee, Brokeback Mountain
Bennett Miller, Capote
Steven Spielberg, Munich
My thoughts: Wow, how creative- all five best picture nominees also got nominated here. No "critic's choice" shout-out like we've had pretty much every year for the past decade. Were they even trying? Also, I really wish people would stop saying that CAPOTE is a debut. Bennett Miller directed a documentary called THE CRUISE in 1998. Sure, it's not a respectable Hollywood movie, but it doesn't matter- he's made a feature before CAPOTE, so stop acting as though he didn't. And hey, I called the Spielberg picture/director combo- just not, ya know, officially.

BEST ACTOR
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Capote
Terrence Howard, Hustle and Flow
Heath Ledger, Brokeback Mountain
Joaquin Phoenix, Walk the Line
David Strathairn, Good Night, and Good Luck
My thoughts: Just because I didn't predict Howard here doesn't mean I didn't have a good idea he'd make it. The guy's been out there, making the rounds, pressing the flesh, showing up in magazines and the like. And it's worked. Crowe didn't really do this, so he's out. My Daniels prediction was as much an attempt to shake things up as anything else. I hate predicting cookie-cutter nominations, but the voters don't seem to mind them at all. At least Howard got nominated for the right movie.

BEST ACTRESS
Dame Judi Dench, Mrs. Henderson Presents
Felicity Huffman, TransAmerica
Keira Knightley, Pride & Prejudice
Charlize Theron, North Country
Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line
My thoughts: So they went with Charlize. Whoopdie frickin' doo. At least I called Keira. And yeah, Allen was a long shot (early release, low on precursors), but again, couldn't bore myself with obvious picks.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
George Clooney, Syriana
Matt Dillon, Crash
Paul Giamatti, Cinderella Man
Jake Gyllenhaal, Brokeback Mountain
William Hurt, A History of Violence
My thoughts: Good job Academy only giving CRASH one nomination. Good job Hurt (and the hype-sters) on getting the Beatrice Straight Award for memorable acting in five minutes. I love the movie, but I thought Harris was worthier than Hurt. But that's just me.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Amy Adams, Junebug
Catherine Keener, Capote
Frances McDormand, North Country
Rachel Weisz, The Constant Gardener
Michelle Williams, Brokeback Mountain
My thoughts: Looks like the early screeners for JUNEBUG did the trick- voters received DVDs back in November for it, and they got to watch them early before the others rolled in, for a movie that might otherwise be consigned to the bottom of the stack. Smart thinking, guys. In other news, McDormand gets nominated for supporting a lead actress nominee (and, admittedly, for playing a very bait-y role). And what does Maria Bello have to do to get recognized here? Hurt turns up for five minutes and gets in, while Bello gives one of the year's most searing performances and she stays home? Was it the 69 scene, guys? Was it the cheerleader getup?

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Crash
Good Night, and Good Luck
Match Point
The Squid and the Whale
Syriana
My thoughts: Hey, look at me predict them all. I'd feel prouder if this category wasn't so easy to predict.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Brokeback Mountain
Capote
The Constant Gardener
A History of Violence
Munich
My thoughts: Once again, an easy 5 for 5.

More analysis/armchair quarterbacking to come, probably.

Oscar nomination predictions

Well, I actually intend to get up around 8 AM tomorrow, which is pretty unheard of for me, but I always like to watch the Oscar nominations get announced and then write about them on the blog. As such, I figured it would be good to put my predictions up, to serve as more grist for tomorrow's piece. Nothing like waiting until the last minute. I included a few "surprise" nominations, mostly because they always seem to have a few. If they always went for the obvious then they'd be the BFCS, and there'd be no need to predict.

The predictions are in order of how sure I am they'll be nominated.

BEST PICTURE
Brokeback Mountain
Good Night, and Good Luck
Crash
Walk the Line
Capote
My thoughts: 1996 redux! Modestly-budgeted critics' faves dominate in the absence of world-beating Hollywood fare. WALK THE LINE makes it, since it's a crowd-pleaser, but how much love is it getting? I honestly can't see what might sneak in... A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE? Awesome as it is, it's "edgier" than they go for, even in a year like this.
Where's Munich?: If the movie was a bigger hit, I'd include it here, but it's not doing especially well at the box office. Also, it's not a very huggable movie- BROKEBACK may be controversial, but it's also a movie fans can embrace emotionally, whereas MUNICH fans are more apt to engage with that film in a political or intellectual way, or to groove on the Spielberginess of it, Armond White-style. The Academy only recognizes a Spielberg movie when it's a mainstream AND critical success. Another thing is that it's not an actor's movie- considering most of the AMPAS is comprised of actors, that's a problem. Plus Spielberg already has three Oscars as well as an honorary, so he isn't exactly overdue.

BEST DIRECTOR
Ang Lee, Brokeback Mountain
George Clooney, Good Night, and Good Luck
Paul Haggis, Crash
David Cronenberg, A History of Violence
Peter Jackson, King Kong
My thoughts: Lee and Clooney are the only real locks here (look for a possible Clooney upset for director come Oscar night). Haggis could fall by the wayside if the film is perceived as primarily an actors' showcase (much like AS GOOD AS IT GETS in 1997), and if this happens I can see Bennett Miller getting bumped up for CAPOTE. Cronenberg is in the critics'-fave spot previously occupied by Lynch (MULHOLLAND DR.), Almodovar (TALK TO HER), Meirelles (CITY OF GOD), and Leigh (VERA DRAKE), although I can see Allen possibly taking the spot too- though without a Weinstein behind him a la BULLETS OVER BROADWAY it'll be tough. Jackson is an out-of-nowhere prediction- they clearly like the guy, and KONG is an ambitious epic production that was miles better than it had any right to be. When they choose two non-best-picture nominees in this category, the second tends to be more mainstream. Spielberg only gets in if MUNICH gets picture, and I don't see that happening (see above); likewise, Mangold contents himself with a best picture nod. Although if they'll nominate Peter (THE FULL MONTY) Cattaneo anything's possible...

BEST ACTOR
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Capote
Joaquin Phoenix, Walk the Line
Heath Ledger, Brokeback Mountain
David Strathairn, Good Night, and Good Luck
Jeff Daniels, The Squid and the Whale
My thoughts: Hoffman has it sewn up, barring a late minute surge by Ledger (star of the best pic frontrunner) or Phoenix (the only previous nominee in the bunch, and who could possibly be a safe, "straight" choice for older voters). Strathairn makes it on the GOOD NIGHT groundswell, although he could pull a Giamatti and end up staying home, since Murrow isn't an especially deep or show-offy role. Crowe and Howard are possiblities, but Crowe may still be seen by many as a phone-throwing thug (who already has gotten plenty of Oscar love) and Howard is playing a pimp/rapper (Eminem's best song win in '02 aside, are they ready for rap?). I predict Daniels (despite category fraud) for being hilarious and for making the most of a quasi-comeback role, although he would be a surer thing if he had a studio with a proven Oscar track record behind him, instead of Samuel Goldwyn films.

BEST ACTRESS
Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line
Felicity Huffman, TransAmerica
Dame Judi Dench, Mrs. Henderson Presents
Keira Knightley, Pride & Prejudice
Joan Allen, The Upside of Anger
My thoughts: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz... so many good female performances this past year, and none of them are listed above. Anyway... Reese, Felicity and the Dame are in, given their dominance of the critics' and guild awards thusfar. It gets tricky after that, but even then it's not all that interesting. I'm getting Knightley gets the PYT nod over Zhang Ziyi, since in the clips I've seen of MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA I've yet to see anything from Zhang that would justify anything but a nomination for Best Art Direction. And this category is typically friendly to previous nominees and comedic performances, and Allen fits in both aspects. Charlize Theron could make it instead, but NORTH COUNTRY didn't make much of a dent in the public consciousness. Still, you never know.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
Paul Giamatti, Cinderella Man
George Clooney, Syriana
Matt Dillon, Crash
Jake Gyllenhaal, Brokeback Mountain
Terrence Howard, Crash
My thoughts: Some have predicted Gyllenhaal to get snubbed here, but I don't think so- I say he rides BROKEBACK's frontrunner status to a nod here. Giamatti and Clooney are givens- the former as a consolation prize for last year, the latter as a "best in show" for SYRIANA as well as an attaboy for a good year all around. And I'd have to say Dillon's pretty safe too, since he tends to get singled out from the CRASH cast for his performance. Howard gets singled out quite a bit, though he's here just as much for HUSTLE AND FLOW as for the Haggis film. Although I can see anyone from Bob Hoskins (MRS. HENDERSON PRESENTS) to William Hurt (A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE) to Donald Sutherland (PRIDE & PREJUDICE) sneaking in there. Why didn't they campaign Jeff Daniels in this category? He could've cleaned up.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Michelle Williams, Brokeback Mountain
Rachel Weisz, The Constant Gardener
Catherine Keener, Capote
Maria Bello, A History of Violence
Thandie Newton, Crash
My thoughts: One thing to remember with the supporting actress category is that voters tend to favor supporting female turns that "support" another nominate-able performance, so this category is heavy with nominations for films that feature multiple Oscar-worthy actors. Who benefits here? Williams has critical plaudits and showy scenes in her favor, but Keener's role is much more low-key (not usually the Academy's thing), so playing a real person in a movie that stars the best actor front-runner is of great help. Newton also benefits (I hate to call it "coattailing") since she gives the most notable female performance in an actor- and Oscar-friendly film, despite a lack of previous awards this season. Weisz and Bello (along with Williams) have garnered much of the critical attention of late, squeezing out Amy Adams, whose film might be judged too small, and whose performance might be seen as the film's whole raison d'etre, to make the cut here. Frances McDormand could always get nominated for NORTH COUNTRY (she has a history with the Academy, after all), but unless Theron gets a best actress nod I don't see it happening.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Crash
Good Night, and Good Luck
Match Point
The Squid and the Whale
Syriana
My thoughts: CRASH and GOOD NIGHT make it on the virtue of being best picture nominees, and MATCH POINT gets in for being Academy-fave Woody Allen's "comeback" effort. SQUID has gotten the lion's share of critics' awards, which means more in this category than it would in one of the higher-profile ones. SYRIANA seems the tenuous of the lot, given the 11th-hour category switcheroo ruling- who knows how many adapted screenplay votes got invalidated as a result? If SYRIANA suffers, expect CINDERELLA MAN or (wouldn't this be awesome) THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN to step into its place.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Brokeback Mountain
Capote
Munich
A History of Violence
The Constant Gardener
My thoughts: The Academy likes when acclaimed authors write screenplays (Arthur Miller, anyone? John Irving?), so BROKEBACK (Larry McMurtry) and MUNICH (Tony Kushner) ought to get nominated on that basis alone. Likewise, CAPOTE gets the nod to match its best picture nomination, and HISTORY OF VIOLENCE its best director. Finally, THE CONSTANT GARDENER steps into SYRIANA's spot as the political, convoluted liberal-guilt offering in the category (although I like both films a great deal, which doesn't hurt). If the writers wish to go another way, there's always PRIDE & PREJUDICE, which distilled the classic novel into a workable two hours, although much of the attention has been given to the direction and performances rather than the adaptation. Beyond that, I just don't know...

How will I do? Tune in tomorrow and see!

When the lights go down (Spoilers!)

BUBBLE (2005, Steven Soderbergh, seen in theatre)- after OCEAN'S 12, which was little more than a swagger-fest, Soderbergh heads for the heartland (southern Ohio, to be precise) for this small-scale gem. I was particularly taken by the director's use of non-actors in his cast. Debbie Doebreiner as Martha is especially good as the kind of overweight, middle-aged woman we don't often see in movies- a plain but nonetheless cheerful woman who (and this is the real difference) lives a largely unexamined life. She works, cares for her father, works at her job, eats without fretting over her weight (compare to, say, LOOK AT ME's Marilou Berry struggling with her body issues), and takes her religious faith for granted. She's the sort of person, whose life is on the straight and narrow, who is seen all the time in real life but rarely onscreen. It's the matter-of-fact way that Soderbergh portrays her, as well as others in her life, which makes the film special. In fact, I was a tad disappointed when Soderbergh introduces a murder mystery into the story, although my misgivings melted away when the film portrayed the subsequent investigation in the same low-key way (a scene where the police detective questions a clearly zonked-out witness is particularly well-done). There are a few stylistic flights of fancy taken by the film (which make sense in context), but it's this level of realism, which never rubs your face in squalor or segues into miserablism, that is Soderbergh's real triumph. Rating: ***1/2.

EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF (1980, Jean-Luc Godard, seen in theatre)- I'm still not entirely sure about my reaction to this one, given that it feels like a gap-bridger between the early Godards I love and the later Godards I don't care quite so much for. It's chock full of great moments you'll only find in a Godard movie, from the seemingly random freeze-frames and slow-motion to the sexual non sequiturs (love the "ow"/"oh"/"hey!" scene). As a whole, it's sort of impenetrable, with very little in the way of a narrative arc- what story there is is composed of interlocking character vignettes, but it's not readily apparent how they are meant to connect. Still, fascinating viewing, and Jacques Dutronc's impersonation of filmmaker "Paul Godard" is a hoot. Now if I only knew what it all meant... Rating: ***.

THE CONFORMIST (1970, Bernardo Bertolucci, seen in theatre)- obviously awesome, even more so for having experienced it on the big screen in a nice subtitled print instead of dubbed on cable. Still, bad luck for me having a headache and tummyache during the movie, which kept me from really grooving on it. But now that there's a good print out there how long will it be until there's a DVD for me to buy? Rating: ***1/2.

Z CHANNEL: A MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION (2004, Xan Cassavetes, seen on DVD)- pretty much what I was expecting (awesome film clips interspersed with interviews), but there's nothing wrong with that. I certainly wish I could've experienced Z Channel firsthand, and if nothing else it compelled me to add a bunch of titles (THE SICILIAN, TURKISH DELIGHT, LA MAGNIFIQUE) to the ol'Netflix queue. In fact, here's an idea for some enterprising DVD distributor: put out a "Z Channel Classics" series so that we can see all the great forgotten titles Harvey loved, or at the very least some movies starring the gorgeous Laura Antonelli. Rating: **1/2.

MATCH POINT (2005, Woody Allen, seen in theatre)- didn't watch this again or anything, just had a few second thoughts re: my high initial opinion of the movie. I still enjoyed it (being a Highsmith lover, how could I not?), but some problems I had with the movie grew upon reflection. To begin with, the film's treatment of Chloe's baby fever feels clumsy- Allen has always had a love-hate relationship with neurotic women in his films, but while in his self-starring comedies they clash with his own neuroses to priceless effect (never more so than Janet Margolin's siren-inspired coitus interruptus in ANNIE HALL), here they clash with the more cultivated level of behavior. Also, Scarlett Johansson's performance is pretty uneven- as seductress, she does a good job combining hunger with emotional neediness, but when she acts the role of the spurned lover she turns shrill, and consequently less interesting (still, she's not THAT bad, Lee). Still dig the movie overall, but not as much as before, and the change is certainly worth mentioning here. Rating: *** (was ***1/2).

The guy on Friday

THE GIRL FROM MONDAY (2005, Hal Hartley, seen on DVD)- I'm not a huge Hartley fan, HENRY FOOL aside, but I am a fan of thinking-person's science fiction, which this certainly is. Here Hartley has on his mind the pervasiveness of media and advertising in our society- the film takes place in a near-future after MMM ("Multi Media Monopoly") has assumed power. Legal citizens are implanted with bar codes, and all that is valued by the society is linked to one's "buying power," even sex. Certainly an intriguing premise for a film, but the final result is less than satisfying. I was more intrigued by the ostensible subplot involving Sabrina Lloyd, an MMM exec-turned-counter-revolutionary, than I was with its main plotline, with Bill Sage as Lloyd's colleague, a double agent for the counter-revolution who discovers the titular Girl (Tatiana Abracos), an extraterrestrial who has fallen to Earth in search of another of her people. It's fairly obvious who this person is from the get-go, which I'm not sure is a deliberate decision on Hartley's part, but either way it's distracting. Although not as distracting as the smeary DV photography last seen in Hartley's BOOK OF LIFE- I'm certainly down with Hartley's refusal to make DV look like film-on-a-budget the way most indie filmmakers do, but here it mostly gets in the way of the film. Still, of interest as a think-piece, and who could hate a movie that contains the line, "you are hereby sentenced to two years hard labor, teaching high school"? Rating: **.

More viewing at home

LOOK AT ME (2004, Agnes Jaoui, seen on DVD)- beginning to think that Jaoui's not my thing, given my tepid reactions to this and her previous film, THE TASTE OF OTHERS. But then, low-key comedies of manners centering around the lives of cultured artistic types don't hold a great deal of interest for me in general- while I aspire to a life similar to characters in Jaoui's films, I need there to be something more interesting about the characters and the narrative than how cultured they are. Compare this film to say, most of Arnaud Desplechin's filmography- while Desplechin's deepens his characters by allowing them to surprise themselves (and the audience), LOOK AT ME plods along. Not a whole lot of character development, Jaoui's character aside, as she learns to disdain the lifestyle her husband learns to enjoy. Meanwhile, the overweight Lolita (oh, what irony! ), played by Marilou Berry, doesn't so much deal with her deep-seated issues with daddy and her body as she constantly prattles on about them, and though Jean-Pierre Bacri gives the film's most interesting performance as famous author/Lolita's dad Etienne, he can't manage to escape the boorish nature of his character as conceived by Jaoui. All rather harmless, I guess, but I don't anticipate remembering much about it in a month or so. Rating: **.

Also, more thoughts on FORTY SHADES OF BLUE- one thing I didn't mention last time was how the film never quite gets the feel of the music-industry world in which it's set. In one sense, this could be deliberate, as we largely see the industry through outsiders' eyes- Laura (Dina Korzun), a Russian immigrant, and Michael (Darren Burrows), estranged son of music producer Allen James (Rip Torn). Yet even bearing this in mind, I thought the film dropped the ball by failing to convince me that Allen was the giant in his field who his colleagues insist he is at more than one point in the film. Had the film convinced me, it could have more successfully contrasted this image with the more human-sized one seen by Laura and Michael, making the film's final twenty minutes or so more emotional affecting, if still low-key. Also, the film's final scene (which is given away by the trailer) is your standard-issue Sundance-movie half-ending, which isn't always a bad thing but has become a rather annoying cliché of late.

Back in the saddle

FORTY SHADES OF BLUE (2005, Ira Sachs, seen on DVD)- the kind of intimate character drama that Sundance champions and sea-level audiences largely ignore, and while I'm certainly not averse to "little" movies, this one just didn't grab me. Fine performances by Rip Torn and especially Dina Korzun keep it watchable, as does Sachs' off-kilter compositions, but Darren Burrows doesn't hold up his corner of the girl-dad-son love triangle, which certainly contributed to my lack of interest (sure, Torn's an asshole, but he's at least an interesting asshole, whereas Burrows is just a tool). Also, it's high time more filmmakers find ways to make movies that are sixty- or seventy-odd minutes long, because Sachs really pads the story to get to 110, and the film suffers as a result. Rating: **.

NINE SONGS (2004, Michael Winterbottom, seen on DVD)- speaking of sixty-odd-minute-long movies... Anyhoo, who would have thought a movie about fucking and rock concerts could have been so listless? Might have improved had Winterbottom actually made a movie that alternated fuck scenes with concert footage, as a kind of statement about modern relationships, but the characters are just fleshed out enough (so to speak) for me to realize that I didn't much like either of them. Also, the Antarctica framing device was a mistake, in particular the film's use of it as a metaphor for memory. Rating: *1/2.

EROS (2004, Wong Kar-wai, Steven Soderbergh, and Michelangelo Antonioni, seen on DVD)- the problem with so many big-name-filmmaker omnibus projects is that the masters in question don't usually bring their A-game, and the results feel like trifles. Which is not to say that the abbreviated periods in the company of Wong and Soderbergh are unpleasant- Wong's short feels like a gap-bridger between ITMFL and 2046, and Soderbergh's is a diverting bit of (mostly black and white) nonsense- but you kind of wish they'd try harder. Of course, perhaps Antonioni was trying TOO hard, making a film that seems to take it cue from old fragrance commercials and stars the most insipid bickering couple I've had the misfortune to witness in years. I perked up a bit when another (hotter) woman entered the scene, but even some nudity towards the end of the film couldn't keep it from being one of the worst offerings of 2005. Still, two-thirds are pretty good, and it's never a waste of time to gaze upon Gong Li or bear witness to the oddly perfect pairing of Robert Downey Jr. and Alan Arkin. Rating: ** (WKW and Soderbergh: **1/2 each; Antonioni: *).

2005 in review (a half-hearted grab for your renewed affection)

So I'm back. Now that I've finished my grad school applications and taken care of work- and family-related holiday concerns, I can devote more time to you, my adoring fans. And what better way to rekindle the love than by summing up the past year in cinema (don't answer that)? Much of this was taken from a piece I wrote for the Cleveland Cinematheque as part of their best-of-05 poll, although there have been some changes since the 'Theque's due date of New Year's Eve (notably my #1). I still want to write a bit about other films besides these, but this is a start, anyway.

Best New Releases:

1. THE NEW WORLD
I've only seen the shortened wide-release version, so I can't say what has been edited out of the previous cut. All I know is that the film I saw was just about perfect. As I've grown to expect from Malick, the film is so visually gorgeous it's like having your eyes kiss by a woman with pillowy-soft lips, but that alone can't justify its presence here. What makes THE NEW WORLD a masterpiece is how it enables the audience to gaze through the eyes of its protagonists- first John Smith (Colin Farrell), then the unnamed Pocahontas (Q’Orianka Kilcher)- so that we see both of the film’s New Worlds as if for the first time. Kilcher’s performance feels so natural and affectless that I almost hope she never does another film, lest the illusion of the performance be ruined, and the spell be broken.

2. KINGS AND QUEEN
The most significant cinematic discovery I made this past year was the work of French filmmaker Arnaud Desplechin, and my favorite Desplechin film thusfar is his latest, KINGS AND QUEEN, in which two lives are examined and contrasted. Nora (the exquisite Emmanuelle Devos) puts on the guise of a strong mother as a reaction to the long history of tragedy in her life, whereas Ismael (Matthieu Amalric) is a perpetually kvetching musician who finds himself committed to a mental hospital. Nora’s story plays out as a dark chamber drama, as she deals with her father’s impending death by fixating on the idea that she will die too, and must find a way to provide for her young son after she is gone; meanwhile, Ismael’s story has an air of oddball comedy, particularly during his misadventures in the institution. Desplechin is a fearless filmmaker, uncowed by wild tonal shifts (a harrowing scene involving Nora’s father’s illness might be followed by Ismael doing an impromptu hip-hop dance) or unexpected stylistic quirks (dig the theatrical nature of Nora’s flashback to her first husband’s death). One of the film’s (relatively few) detractors once sarcastically described it as being "chock full of fruity goodness," and I suppose that’s one of the primary reasons I love it.

3. GRIZZLY MAN
Werner Herzog has made a career out of finding characters on the fringe of society, and Timothy Treadwell is one of his great discoveries- a self-styled adventurer who fancied himself the protector of grizzly bears, and who journeyed to Alaska every summer for over a decade to live among them until he was mauled to death by one. Combining copious amounts of found footage shot by Treadwell himself (in which Treadwell is nothing if not a shameless self-promoter) with interviews of Treadwell’s friends, Herzog paints a vivid portrait of his subject. But what makes the film great is Herzog’s presence, offering his own perspective on the events and even disagreeing with Treadwell’s beliefs. It’s Herzog himself that keeps the film from becoming simply a tribute to a unique kindred spirit, and instead turns it into a parable about the need for proper respect for the natural order.

4. TROPICAL MALADY
In which two young men, a soldier and a townie, fall in love, after which the townie disappears into the forest and turns into a shape-shifting shaman who terrorizes small communities in the form of a tiger. Got that? The story itself matters little to the effect of Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s latest, a strange but somehow romantic film filled with some of the most unique visuals I’ve seen all year. The sweetness of the romance in the film’s first half gives way to something much more primal, as the soldier hunts down the tiger/lover in the woods, and is faced with a decision to kill the tiger and "release his soul, or be consumed and become a part of him forever." In a way, isn’t that what true love is about?

5. A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE
The opening passages of David Cronenberg’s chilling film have a fascination much like FAR FROM HEAVEN did, of an idealized small-town life that feels too good to be true. And sure enough, it is, as family diners and varsity-jacketed school bullies give way to more sinister threats when Tom Stall (played cannily by Viggo Mortensen) quickly dispatches with some out-of-town stickup men. From there, Tom descends into the abyss of his past, as some gangsters show up claiming to know his true, violent identity. In the end, is he Tom Stall or Crazy Joey Cusack from Philly? Or is he both? The film’s most tantalizing mystery is that, even when the film is over, it’s impossible to separate the two.

6. 2046
Eye candy. Wong Kar-wai’s follow-up/quasi-sequel to IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE plays like nothing so much as variations on a theme, as Tony Leung copes with having lost Maggie Cheung in the previous film. In pure Vonnegut fashion, the story becomes unstuck in time, jumping into a future world of Leung’s creation and then getting borne back ceaselessly into the past as he remembers those women he has loved. And what women! Gong Li, Faye Wong, Zhang Ziyi (playing a grown-up for a change) and a few fleeting glimpses of Maggie Cheung, to tease us, I suppose. What is 2046? What does it mean? I look forward to watching the film again and again to figure it out.

7. KING KONG
So few filmmakers anymore are capable of creating spectacle that Peter Jackson has to be commended just for thinking big, but that’s just one of the many reasons why KONG is the rare remake that does the original justice. Much like Tarantino did with grindhouse movies in KILL BILL, Jackson distills all the Kong-fueled flights of fantasy he’s had since he first saw the 1933 classic into one souped-up package, combining state of the art effects and classical Hollywood storytelling. But Jackson’s masterstroke is his conception of Kong himself, and his relationship with Naomi Watts’ Anne Darrow, a relationship built on mutual understanding, protection, and a most curious kind of love.

8. TONY TAKITANI
The phrase "good small film" so often comes off as qualified praise, as if a movie can’t compete with the epics just because it doesn’t contain a cast of thousands and millions of dollars worth of effects. But TONY TAKITANI is a great small film in the best sense- like an absorbing short story (the film is based on one by Hakuri Murakami), director Jun Ichikawa traffics in muted emotions and snapshots of a character’s life. Star Issei Ogata makes an perfect Takitani, his almost cartoonishly withdrawn presence ideally suited to the character’s tentativeness, and Ryuichi Sakamoto’s plaintive score is the year’s best.

9. KEANE
The best performance I saw all year was given by Damian Lewis in Lodge Kerrigan’s film. Lewis plays the title character, a schizophrenic searching for his long-lost daughter, and Kerrigan follows him as he searches, wanders, and suffers through the highs and lows of his illness. As the film progresses, we begin to see through Keane’s eyes, and when he becomes a friend to a down-on-her-luck woman and her young daughter, the film generates suspense from Keane’s struggle to stay sane in their presence.

10. SYRIANA
Steven Gaghan’s tapestry of oil-industry corruption is the year’s best overtly-political film, painting the issues surrounding its subject as a vicious circle of greed, subterfuge, and violence. SYRIANA contains memorable performances from everyone from the henceforth little-known Alexander Siddig to de-glammed superstar George Clooney, but the real star is Gaghan, who is unafraid to tackle the thornier aspects of the topic, to turn to didactic speechifying when it’s necessary to make his point, and who manages to juggle the various plot strands in a way that always keeps the audience aware of where they stand.

11. (tie) NOT ON THE LIPS, THE STORY OF MARIE AND JULIEN, and NO DIRECTION HOME: BOB DYLAN
With theatrical exhibition getting more competitive (and expensive), three of the year’s best films, from three masters of the medium, mostly bypassed theatres entirely, although I had the good fortune to see two of them on the big screen. NOT ON THE LIPS is a charming adaptation of a 1920s operetta from Alain Resnais; MARIE AND JULIEN is director Jacques Rivette’s haunting yet erotic love story with a supernatural bent; and NO DIRECTION HOME is a made-for-PBS tribute to one of the past century’s most iconic artist, as made by another (Martin Scorsese). It’s a double-edged sword: while I’m sad that more people can’t see films like this on the big screen (especially when theatres are crowded by the likes of CHICKEN LITTLE), I’m grateful that DVD allows American audiences to see them at all.

Honorable mention: THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN (Judd Apatow), DOWNFALL (Oliver Hirschbiegel), GAMES OF LOVE AND CHANCE (Abdellatif Kechiche), KUNG FU HUSTLE (Stephen Chow), MATCH POINT (Woody Allen), NOBODY KNOWS (Hirokazu Kore-eda), OLDBOY (Chan-wook Park)

Worst: THE ADVENTURES OF SHARK BOY AND LAVA GIRL IN 3D
Robert Rodriguez, drunk on DIY movie-making, has made a film based on a story by his 8 year old son. This tells me that, as a director, Rodriguez is a cool dad. The resultant movie, a semi-coherent mush of bargain-basement effects and mugging kids, would be hard enough to watch, but add low-quality 3D presentation and it’s murder on the eyes. 3D was once advertised with the phrase "it puts you in the movie;" Rodriguez hurt my eyes to the point where I could swear he put me in the most infamous shot in UN CHIEN ANDALOU.

Best Trend in Filmmaking: "The Resurgence of Low-Cult":
I’m as much of a art-film nerd as the next guy, but sometimes even I get an itch that can only be scratched by a down’n’dirty genre movie. Luckily, after several years of glossy, shallow "entertainment," 2005 was a banner year for "disreputable" cinema. Some highlights were (in rough preferential order): THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN (the funniest and best sex comedy since, well, ever), KUNG FU HUSTLE (a hilarious Tex Avery-styled chopsocky romp), OLDBOY (about the ugliness of vengeance, with a great performance by Choi Min-sik), THE DEVIL’S REJECTS (Rob Zombie’s thrilling take on grindhouse may out-geek even Tarantino), KISS KISS BANG BANG (an uproarious riff in detective movies- welcome back Shane Black), LAND OF THE DEAD (ditto George A. Romero), DOMINO (see below), and UNLEASHED (S&M meets Jet Li, with Luc Besson’s patented makeshift family dynamic thrown in for good measure).

Most Underrated: DOMINO
Few films released this past year were reviewed so negatively, with critics focused on Tony Scott’s jackhammer editing, the endlessly convoluted storyline, and the level of violence. I’ve never been a big Tony Scott fan, and while it seems to be that those naysaying critics could be describing just about anything he’s directed lately, it’s precisely those things that made the film work as well as it did for me. Domino Harvey (played with great gusto by Keira Knightley) is a Scott character for the ages- a sexy rich girl who yearns to escape her life of privilege by embracing the gritty life of a bounty hunter, and complaints that Knightley isn’t convincing as a bounty hunter are beside the point- the fact that Knightley weighs about one-hundred-and-nothin’ pounds just underline the disconnect between the character’s two lives. Richard Kelly’s screenplay is convoluted, yes, but there is more to the film than one would expect. DOMINO is a meditation (what an odd word to associate with Tony Scott) on social stratification in America today, in which impoverished minorities, violent criminals, the Mafia, and television bigwigs all have to converge sometime, and in DOMINO, it’s at the DMV. The year’s most unexpected great supporting performance has to be given by Mo’Nique, who plays "the world’s youngest grandmother" (her Jerry Springer appearance is a hoot) but also finds unexpected reservoirs of feeling and poignancy amidst the twisting and turning of the story.

Most Overrated: CRASH
Many critics found screenwriter Paul Haggis’ directing debut to contain trenchant observations about race relations in America, but to be honest I mostly found contrivance and writerly self-congratulation. With all the diatribes and hand-wringing CRASH felt more like a writer’s exercise than a fully-realized film. I was a little annoyed that Haggis’ conception of the story seemed to be predicated on the idea that there were roughly a dozen people in Los Angeles, but I could have forgiven this if only he really explored his themes rather than paying them lip service (in short: all races maintain preconceived notions about other races, except for Latinos, who are saints. Thanks for that, Paul). Yes, some of the performances are good, especially Matt Dillon, Thandie Newton, and Terrence Howard. But that doesn’t make up for the handful scenes that were so misguided I wanted to throw something at the screen. CRASH may have been anointed as an "important" film by a media hungry for relevance in pop culture, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.

Best DVD release: RAN (Criterion Collection)
Finally, someone got it right. Kurosawa’s last true masterpiece looks better than ever on the jam-packed Criterion release, and the extras do the film justice. The filet of the set is Chris Marker’s documentary A.K., but the featurette that shows the master’s painting and sketches for the film is a treat as well. Other contenders: KING KONG, NAKED, Lucas Belvaux’s THE TRILOGY.

Best Retrospectives and Re-issues:

1. Orson Welles retro (Cinematheque)
I wasn’t able to make it to the first half the series, but most of the unearthed treasures were in the second half anyway. How many other chances will I have to see, say, THE IMMORTAL STORY or FILMING OTHELLO in my lifetime? And the program of rarities featuring Gary Graver was the capper- Japanese whisky commercials, TV appearances such as "The Fountain of Youth" and "I Love Lucy," even a recipe for an alcoholic beverage invented by Welles himself. And the opportunity to see footage from THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WIND, with the tantalizing possibility that the whole enchilada might soon see the light of day? Priceless.

2. Maurice Pialat retro (touring)
Pialat never got a lot of attention in the U.S. until after his death, but this retrospective of his work revealed that he was a major filmmaker throughout his career. I wasn’t able to drive up to Cleveland for A HOUSE IN THE WOODS, but I did make it to the rest, and my favorite of the bunch was UNDER THE SUN OF SATAN, a sober but vital examination of faith that deserves comparison with Bresson.

3. Jacques Demy films (Wexner Center)
As my friend Chris said, "the more I see of his work, the more canonical he becomes." This year the Wex showed three of his films, two of which I’d never seen before. The 1969 film MODEL SHOP was Demy’s sole American effort, the final installment of the trilogy that included LOLA and THE UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG. Lola is a low-key sort-of romance set in Los Angeles, a full 180-degree turn from the fairy-tale world of DONKEY SKIN, his Cocteau-inflected odd fantasy starring Catherine Deneuve, Delphine Seyrig and Jean Marais (to drive the Cocteau comparison home). And I would be remiss if I didn’t at least mention the wonderful opportunity I got to see the classic UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG on the big screen again.

4. Morgan Fisher program (Wexner Center)
In my continual effort to educate myself in all aspects of the cinema, I was thrilled to attend a program of avant-garde shorts from a legend in the field. Fisher’s work deals with aspects of filmmaking and exhibition that are often locked behind closed doors, never more explicitly than in his short PROJECTION INSTRUCTIONS, in which a series of directions are displayed on the screen for the projectionist to follow. Also noteworthy was his early film PRODUCTION STILLS, a witty short about the making of itself, and his latest film ( ), in which Fisher spotlights the craft of insert shots by editing together a film entirely out of inserts from old movies. The best of the program, however, was STANDARD GAUGE, ostensibly about aspect ratios, but also embracing such phenomena as "China Girls," low-budget movies, and the demise of the three-strip Technicolor imbibition process.

5. BLUE MOVIE (Views From the Avant Garde)
This year was my first experience with the New York Film Festival and the concurrent Views program, and while the selection in Views was spotty at best, I certainly enjoyed being able to see this long-unseen film by Andy Warhol. The film itself is quintessential Warhol, not so much crafting cinema as allowing it, for better or worse, to happen. The dead spots and indulgences in the film are just another element of Warhol’s style (such as it is), and while I’m not sure how I feel about BLUE MOVIE, I don’t think I’ll forget it anytime soon. The film was introduced by Warhol "superstar" Viva, who proved an endlessly engaging and salty mistress of ceremonies, which certainly made the experience of the film that much more memorable.

Best Festival Films (that may or may not open in 2006): A TALE OF CINEMA, THROUGH THE FOREST, THE WAYWARD CLOUD, and MANDERLAY

Still need to see: THE BEST OF YOUTH, CACHE, CINEVARDAPHOTO, FORTY SHADES OF BLUE, GILLES’ WIFE, IN HER SHOES, INNOCENCE, THE INTRUDER, NINE LIVES, THE THREE BURIALS OF MELQUIADES ESTRADA, and WHERE THE TRUTH LIES.

Flag-waving schedule monkees

- Pet peeve du jour #1: improperly displayed American flags. OK, I can understand wanting to put a flag out in front of your business. Support our troops and all that. And if you have a flagpole installed, it would look dumb NOT to have a flag out. But if you want to be patriotic, you can't just hang a flag and leave it indefinitely. As I recall from my Scouting days, there are certain rules that are to be followed when displaying a flag. First, the flag is to be lowered after dark, unless you have a spotlight. Second, if it's raining/snowing/sleeting, the flag should be taken down. Third, the flag is not to be flown half-mast without a special decree by the President. Now, I might have missed the memo, but I always thought that flying the American flag meant that these rules were to be followed, but I guess nobody cares anymore. Least of all the owner of the business I passed on the way home from work the other night, who was flying the flag after dark, unlit, in the rain, at half-mast. I've got a salute for you, buddy, but I don't think you'll care for it much.

- Pet peeve du jour #2: it happens at least once on every weekday at the theatre that I'll get a customer who insists that the showtimes I've displayed on our box office marquee are incorrect. "But the paper said 12:30, not 1:45, the paper said so," he'll protest, almost always with a snotty, superior look on his face. I invariably counter with a question- "did you look in today's paper?" This is often followed by a few seconds of silence, then a sheepish "no, I looked in Sunday's... you mean you changed them?" Yes jackass, we changed them, I think but do not say. Why should it be such a shock that we change showtimes between the weekend and the weekdays? Why run a full-tilt afternoon schedule when most of the audience is either (a) at school, or (b) at work? And honestly, why would you look at the Sunday's paper for showtimes for any day other than Sunday? Would you check Sunday's paper for Tuesday's weather? I thought not. Think, people. It ain't hard, if you put forth a little effort.

- Had a weird dream the other night about something that might have made for a crazy awesome cult movie, but it's impossible now, methinks. The pitch: The Monkees meet THE OMEGA MAN. The basic story takes place half a decade or so after HEAD, when the Monkees have split up and the four band members are doing their own thing. Meanwhile, the roving hippie/pinko baddies from OMEGA MAN are beginning to terrorize LA. One day, Davey gets a brainstorm to have a one-night-only reunion special on TV, and calls the other guys, who are up for it, although Mike takes some convincing. Anyway, they're in the studio, planning and rehearsing for the special, but Davey gets kidnapped by the OMEGA MAN dudes and taken back to their hideaway to be indoctrinated into the group. So the other three go searching for him. Groovy, hallucinatory shenanigans ensue. A lot of the details of the dream are fuzzy, but I distinctly remember them chasing up and down lots of stairwells, and also some swooping camera shots as the boys rush through streets while riots are going on. Also, there's a harp solo for Peter, probably because he was the most musical one in real life (there always seems to be a harp solo in my cinematically-styled dreams- must be all the Marx brothers I've watched). What really struck me about this dream is that, reunion story and rioting aside, this almost could have worked as a real episode of THE MONKEES. I don't know if I could have taken this story when I was a kid though- it's a little heavy for children. Still, am I weird for dreaming about The Monkees?

5 weird habits of mine

The original topic for this ongoing meme is "Your Five Weirdest Habits," but since I'm positive that I've overlooked some (and don't wish to mention some of the more embarrassing ones online), I've modified it slightly here.

Thanks to Donna for tagging me.

1. Ever since I was young, I've been in the habit of getting into bed before turning out the light. I guess this comes from a youthful fear of creatures under the bed, which would emerge and crawl around on the floor once the lights went out. I recall a time when there was no light next to my bed, and I actually practiced a technique by which I would jump, hit the switch on the way up, and sail toward the bed. I missed more than once before getting the bright idea to move the bed.

2. Unless it's completely unfeasible, I try to be at least fifteen or twenty minutes early for wherever I'm going. No matter whether I'm heading to work, a movie, or just a meeting with a friend, I can't stand the thought of being late. Even now that I have a cellular phone, I'd rather work my schedule around so I'll be early than have to call the person I'm meeting to tell them I'm running late.

3. Even at the height of summer when it's ninety-some degrees out, I insist on wearing long pants whenever I leave the house. Maybe this has something to do with my less-than-friendly relationship with sunlight.

4. I've saved every notebook I've used since I first started college over nine years ago. I can't explain why. What do I think I'll need them for?

5. Every time I use the bathroom, I turn on the fan (yes, there's a separate switch). I'll turn on the fan even when I'm just washing my hands or combing my hair.

I hereby pass the mantle on to... um... Jason, Tosh, Jay, Mark, and Lee.

Whew...

- Thanks for your thoughts a few weeks back, when my dad had bypass surgery. He's recovering now- still not allowed to drive or lift heavy objects or sleep in any position besides on his back, on account of the doctors having to cut through the breastbone to do the procedure- but he's doing what he can. For the time being, he can eat pretty much anything he wants, until such time as his appetite returns, so maybe I ought to bring home a burger or something for him to enjoy before the doctors say no more. He's not 100% yet or anything, but we're happy with how he's recovering.

- A strange and kind of welcome unforseen by-product of my dad's brush with the Reaper is that he has gotten less and less tolerant of bullshit. This is especially nice when he's talking to my brother, meaning he's much less inclined to indulge my brother than he was in the past. Not that it matters much anymore, since my brother officially moved out yesterday. Three months after we had originally planned, but better late than never, I suppose.

- One thing I hate about the holiday season is the omnipresent Christmas music in stores and such. Not that I am categorically against carols or anything- it's just the ones they play are so schmaltzy and shitty. We've all heard "The Christmas Song" thousands of times, so why is it necessary to hear the slowest, most overorchestrated version wherever we go (I'm glancing in your direction, Perry Como)? Even worse is that they subject callers on hold to the songs as well. Gee, just what I need- I'm sitting around the house, just trying to see if the bookstore has a copy of UGETSU, and I have to sit through a double dose of Mannheim Steamroller-fied holiday junk. Blech. Also, how did the chestnuts roasting song get to be "The Christmas Song?" Ask people to name one Christmas song and I'm guessing very few will name that one. I guess it's sort of like the div kid being named milk monitor or something. God, THE OFFICE is awesome.

- Chinese takeout is a lot like a relationship- when it's good it's awesome, and when it's bad watch the fuck out. This pearl of wisdom was inspired by a trip to a local Chinese takeout joint. I should have cut and run as soon as I walked in- what kind of restaurant is almost empty at 12:15 PM?- but feeling adventurous I stuck around. Hoo boy. I guess the wonton soup wasn't awful, though the wonton itself was little more than a layered ball of dough. The eggroll, on the other hand... the cabbage was really stringy, and there seemed to be a powdery substance inside. It might have been soy or something, but it was pretty off-putting. For the main course, I ordered what I usually order when I go to a Chinese place for the first time- chicken with broccoli. It's not my favorite or anything, but it's pretty much a gimme- chicken, broccoli, and brown sauce. It's only a gimme in theory, as it turns out- the single server on duty brings me out a plate covered in all kinds of unwelcome veggies, including (retch) mushrooms. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but there are quite a few people out there who don't eat mushrooms, either due to allergy (in my case) or simple dislike for them. So if you're going to put mushrooms on a dish, it would probably be a wise idea to advertise, to keep the fungophobes away. But noooooooooooooooooo, here's what the menu read: "Chicken and Broccoli." I asked the server to take it back to the kitchen, since I can't eat mushrooms, and she looked at me oddly, like I told her I don't breathe oxygen or something. But she obliged, bringing me back a new plate a minute or so later that was obviously the same one only with the mushrooms removed. I tried to choke down a few bites, but it tasted like someone cut up my work shoes, threw them in a wok, and served them over rice. Which may sound good if you're Werner Herzog, but doesn't appeal to me. Being nice/wussy, I paid for the meal, but I would have been better off driving by the restaurant, wiping my ass with a ten-dollar bill, and throwing it out the driver's side window. At least that would have been entertaining and left me without a terrible aftertaste.

- Brilliant idea du jour: reflex tests for the elderly when they renew their licenses. I suppose this was brought on by the idea that all of my grandparents are upwards of 85 years old, and three of them (including the oldest, 90 years old) are still behind the wheel. Nothing against them or the elderly in general, but I feel uneasy every time they mention driving somewhere. I feel particularly uneasy about my paternal grandparents, who are 90 and 88 and have a lot of trouble walking. Now, I understand that one needs to be mobile. Being stuck in one place can be tough- just ask my dad. But when you're driving, especially if you're on the highway, you need to be able to react quickly to avoid accidents. And I fear that many old people may be endangering themselves and others simply because the PC police don't want to offend their elders. Come to think of it, let's test everyone's reaction time. If you're still able-bodied, what could you possibly fear?

Flesh and blood

I apologize to all of you out there for not posting more frequently, but quite frankly these last few weeks have been hectic. I've been working a lot, plus I've spent a lot of my time at home working on applications, so that leaves me very little time for posting either to this blog or to the film blog. And to compound matters, I just found out last week that my dad has to get triple-bypass surgery. So as you might expect it's been pretty tense around the house since then. The surgery is tomorrow (Tuesday) morning, and while I'm not really fearing the worst (I can't even bring myself to type out what "the worst" actually would be) it nonetheless gives me pause. I know my dad's in good shape, heart notwithstanding, but anytime they cut a loved one open one is bound to be concerned.

I had a conversation with my dad about this earlier tonight, and he asked me how I felt about the whole thing. To be honest, I wasn't sure how to feel. My dad had a mild heart attack about ten years ago, yet this still didn't quite feel real to me. Bypass operations are for old people, right? Well, not exactly. The truth is that heart trouble runs in his family. His dad has heart problems, and now he does. And what has really hit home is that, in terms of body type, I'm very similar to how my dad was at my age. Add to this the fact that I had a great-uncle who died of a heart attack when he was 29- yeah, I'm a touch nervous.

The other emotional issue I mentioned to my dad was that I figured out a while back that I'm the kind of person who get more frustrated when something bad happens beyond his control than when something happens that he (at least partially) caused. This is unfathomable to my mother, who is the "no sweat, it's all out of my hands" type, but my dad knew where I was coming from. I guess it's the control freak in me, being disturbed more by powerlessness than by responsibility, but it's just the way I am. And now when it comes to my own health, I feel more powerless than ever before. As my dad said, "I could probably have eaten salads for every meal and this still would have happened eventually." Even if this is a slight exaggeration, my dad's gene pool has a tendency toward heart problems, and that's part of the legacy he's left to me. Now let's see if I can do anything about it.

But in spite of the tension, the plan for tonight was to get the family together for one more nice sit-down dinner before my dad's surgery. I had the day off work, so I prepared a nice meal, but alas, the plans came crashing down. From my vantage point, my brother was to blame, but I should accept at least some responsibility for it happening. The story as I remember it: I'm in the kitchen making dinner, and my mom's changing out of her work clothes. My dad comes home and changes, then comes out to the kitchen, and we start talking. My dad comes calls to my brother to come upstairs for dinner, and eventually my brother comes up. My dad and I continue our conversation in a fairly innocuous manner, and suddenly my brother seizes upon a harmless thing my dad says to sneak in one of his infamous offhand digs, this time at my dad. The conversation screeches to a halt, and I get PISSED. I tell my brother that I'm getting really fucking pissed at his need to tell jokes at the expense of others, especially his family, and he starts getting all defensive. "I'm just telling a joke! That's the kind of jokes I always tell!" he says. And I tell him that we were trying to have a civilized conversation, and that his humor is best kept to himself. And he starts getting pissed at me, so I reach for the nearest knife, although I fail to get a good hold on it, and it goes tumbling across the floor. But even without a knife, I start yelling at him (by this time mom has come out of the bedroom and is trying to make sense of it all) and my brother decides to get the hell out of Dodge. But, this being my brother, not before he can get in one more feeble remark- "Dad, good luck with your surgery. Paul, go fuck yourself." And the door slams.

I felt suitably guilty for my actions, of course, but the weird thing wasn't that I didn't feel guilty so much for attempting to draw a knife on my brother as I did for breaking up the nice family dinner we had planned. But why would I, a person who considers himself to be a peaceful sort, impulsively pull out a knife when my brother crosses me? Well, I've been thinking about that all night. I suppose a lot of it had to do with my dad. The whole point of the night was to give him a pleasant send-off before tomorrow's surgery, and after making dinner I wasn't about to let my brother pull his usual mouthy shit. But I also think that it's the culmination of three tumultuous months of my brother living with us. Simply put, all of the bad things I thought about him before he moved back have only been exascerbated by experiencing them with great regularity. Would you live with a roommate who lied, consistently made jokes at the expense of you or your housemates, left half-full glasses of soda sitting around the house, had piles of filthy dishes in his bedroom even after they started to get moldy, inserted inappropriate language or jokes into polite conversation, actively antagonized the mistress of the house, and watched television late into the night, loudly laughing heedless of the sleep schedules of everyone else? How much are we supposed to forgive just because he's family? Yet I've practically been a saint up until now. He's come to me numerous times, cornered me while I was busy with something and engaged me in insipid hour-long conversations about which I could really give a shit, and I've done my best to humor him even though I don't really want to, all in the name of keeping everything smoothed over between us. But now this. A knife, drawn on my own brother. True, it never would have made for much of a threat, not only because I dropped the knife but also because the knife I pulled out was a serrated bread knife, and lord knows that couldn't have done much harm. But still, it's the principle. Nothing good can come of this.

Anyway, my dad. I hope he comes out all right. He'll be home for the next month or so, so I'll see plenty of him then. I'll be in the hospital with my mom tomorrow morning, trying to keep her level. I wonder if my brother will show up. Just in case, I'll leave the cutlery at home.

Can't depend on anyone these days...

- I don't regret taking that promotion to management a few months ago, but man does it ever have its drawbacks. Foremost among them is my disillusionment with the majority of my theatre's staff members. Problems that would have seemed miniscule to me back when I was a staff member have become glaring. The issues have been there all along, far as I can tell, but the difference is that I can no longer ignore them. When someone continually shows up late for a shift, I have to deal with it. When someone consistently wants to take off on Saturday (as a rule, our busiest day) I have to convince him to change his mind. Or at least TRY to convince him. The problem I have with so many of my staff members is that they're so damn ungenerous. They whine and whine about how they don't make any money, how we don't give them enough benefits, and waa waa waa. But they don't really want to work unless it's on their terms. They want a 40-hour work week, but they don't want to work the peak hours. They want to be scheduled, but they can't be bothered to keep busy when they're on the clock. Perhaps they didn't get the memo, but working a service-oriented job like this is about being a member of a team. On a team, you have to think of everyone, and it's about give and take. Which does NOT mean that everyone can keep taking without giving anything. Because the giving has to come from somewhere, and more often than not it comes from me and the other two managers. And frankly, I'm getting sick of it. Something is wrong when I get annoyed just from SEEING almost every single person on the staff. I'm working on hiring some new people, but until that time I can't get rid of the old ones, barring any really problematic behavior (stealing, etc). And we really need to get some people out of there- one of the most popular staff members among his peers is a lazy, whiny asswipe who flaunts the rules and regularly guilt-trips managers, trying to make them feel bad for disciplining him. Yet this same non-worker is beloved by most of the other staff members, to the point where if we let them vote for staff member of the month, he'd be a shoo-in. I'm also reckoning with the conflicting impulses which are inherent in a job like this- I want to be a nice guy (I'd like to think I am a nice guy), but I also need to be a good manager, commanding respect and not allowing staff members to walk all over me. ARGH!

- Work isn't all bad, I suppose. Last night, we were paid a visit by none other than Tommy "Tiny" Lister, who was in Akron making a personal appearance and came to see a movie afterwards. I saw that he was here, but was inclined to leave him alone until he and his manager approached me and asked if they could have something sent to our fax machine. Naturally I said yes, and after the fax came through I took the liberty of asking for his autograph. Turns out that earlier that day I impulse-bought a copy of JACKIE BROWN (it was on sale), and since he's in that awesome movie playing Max Cherry's assistant Winston, I couldn't not ask. He was pretty cool in person- a big guy, as you might expect, but soft spoken and genial. The biggest surprise was that he wears glasses, which I guess shouldn't be a surprise since he is cross-eyed, but it was still a little odd to see. He signed for some of the other staff members and got a picture with my boss, whose head came up to Tiny's chest.

- Ladies and gents, the battle rages on. It's Irony vs. Sincerity- the Merchandising Years! In this corner, wearing the white trunks... Mr. Dick Van Patten! And in this corner, wearing the blue trunks, the People's Champ... Mr. Vincent Gallo! Who will win? My money's on the spooge.

- I took the GRE on Monday, and now that it's over my mind is at ease. I did well (610 verbal, 760 math, with writing results to come), but I really had to work for this. I took a fair number of practice tests to prepare for this, as well as checking a bagful of GRE-prep books out of the library. Remember when I could do well on the SAT and ACT without breaking a sweat? That was awesome. I guess it's like when you don't lift weights for a long time, and then you have to pick up something heavy- the muscles are still there, but you haven't used them and they're out of shape. That's how I felt during the test. Ah well, glad it's over. Now I can move on to applications. Oh yeah, I decided to apply to film school after all. If I don't get in, I'll try again next year.

The Dialogue Meme (originally posted on my Film Blog)

Well, it's all over but the crying. Below are all the answers to my Dialogue Meme, so you can slap yourselves in the forehead for not placing the quote, or slap me for using you folks as guinea pigs.

So what do the ten films quoted below have in common? I didn't expect you to guess that, since it's fairly arbitrary- they are ten of the films in my "next 25" list that I plan to make as an addendum to my top 100 of a couple years back. For the rest of the 25, stay tuned to this site.

1. "Ah yes, she was a Communist too. She believed in free love. At the time it was all I could afford."

1A. "I reserve the right to be ignorant. That's the Western way of life."

- from THE SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD (1965, Martin Ritt)

2. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a stickler for paperwork. Where would we be if we didn't follow proper procedures?" - from BRAZIL (1985); answered by Vadim.

3. "You're hypnotized by this place, all of you. It's so bright and nearly wrapped you don't see that it's a prison too." - from DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978); answered by Jason.

4. "They think if they piss high enough they're gonna come across the monkey with the beard and the crap ideas and it's like, 'oh! There you are, captain! Are you busy, because I've got a few fundamental questions for ya'? You with me?"

4A. "What about the old diminishing pachyderm formation there?"

- from NAKED (1993, Mike Leigh)

5. "It was wonderful, he thought- how such depths of feeling could coexist with an absence of imagination."

5A. "I can't have my happiness made of a wrong to somebody else."

- from THE AGE OF INNOCENCE (1993, Martin Scorsese)

6. "Two more double bourbons. Make 'em nice and big." - from TOUCH OF EVIL (1958); answered by Tosh.

7. "This promises to be quite a trip. Personally, I don't intend to miss a meal."

7A. "My line? My most effective one is to tell a girl she has hair like a tortured midnight, lips like a red couch in an ivory palace that I'm lonely and starved for affection. Then, I generally burst into tears. It seldom works."

- from GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES (1953, Howard Hawks)

8. "The fine line that runs from ear to chin is not as obvious anymore, but it is etched there by your easygoing, indolent ways."

8A. "Wednesday the third of September-- The tang of autumn fills the clear still air but it's mild and fine."

- from CRIES AND WHISPERS (1972, Ingmar Bergman)

9. "Well, you know music, and you can count. All the way up to two." - from ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST (1968); answered by Tosh.

10. "We have a saying in Brazil- he says to go up- it says, 'Deus e Brasilero,' which means, 'God is Brazilian.' So you see, we have no worry in the world. Of course, you have to worry some. That's the way of life."

10A. "Well, Cinderella. I was beginning to think you'd never come for your shoe."

- from POINT BLANK (1967, John Boorman)

This is why I don't have kids (that and I don't have a significant other)

I was sitting at La Guardia today, waiting for my flight, when a family sat in the seats across from where I am. A couple, maybe in their late forties or early fifties, and a boy who looked to be maybe 11 or 12. Actually, I first noticed them not by sight, but when I heard the kid. I tell you, this kid just wouldn't stop. He kept ranting and raving- "I wanna fly now! NOW! I don't wanna wait! NOW! NOW!!!" His parents gently tried to quiet him without making a scene, but nothing doing- he stood up and started stamping his feet on the ground, throwing a little baby temper tantrum. You know, the kind like you see in movies but you can't believe any parent would tolerate? But these parents did. And after a while, he reached out and started slapping his parents intermittently in various parts of their body, as if to punish them for not allowing him to get on the plane. By this time, I was starting to get angry. I had been immersed in Cain's wonderful MILDRED PIERCE (a great American tragedy, in my opinion), but I couldn't concentrate with the overgrown baby putting on a show across the aisle. Eventually it seems he decided that his parents weren't enough of an opponent, so he began yelling at random people around him. He even looked over to me at one point, as I was pretending to read, and said "what are YOU looking at?" I then proceeded to make eye contact with his mother (or at least I think she was his mother) and she gave a weary, resigned smile and a shrug, as if to say "what do you expect me to do?"

Well, here's what I DON'T expect you to do, lady. I don't expect you to just stand there and let Bratty McGoo yell and scream and make a scene. You're his parents, for chrissakes. I'm not saying that you reach for the nearest mallet and pound him with it (though I would have been tempted myself were a mallet nearby). But do SOMETHING. Take the little bastard by the arm, firmly guide him into the nearest public restroom and assert your responsibility. Tell him that the world does not operate according to his schedule. Insist that there is no excuse for him to hit others, least of all his parents. And of course inform him in no uncertain terms that he's TOO FUCKING OLD TO THROW TANTRUMS IN PUBLIC. Seriously, this kid had to be in the double digits, and the stomping around and yelling routine loses its effectiveness long before this age.

Now, I'm not a parent (all you parents can breathe a collective sigh of relief) but last I checked one of a parent's jobs is to discipline unruly children. Again, I'm not advocating the use of the hand, the paddle, or my mother's favorite, Mr. Spatula. But just as one must reward good behavior, so must bad behavior not go unpunished, or else the kid won't learn the difference between the two. One look at the faces of Mom and Dad said it all- they looked tired, haggard, worn down. And if I had a kid who had been pitching fits for over a decade I'm sure I'd look like that too. But not only will letting this behavior slide not make the kid stop, it won't make you look any younger either.

To all you parents out there- am I way out of line here?

On second thought...

The main reason I moved back home wasn't to assist my family or anything (although that's what I tell most people). In fact I'm here mostly so that I can re-evaluate the direction my life is taking. After the depressing-even-to-me New Year's post, I decided I need to do something with my life, because what I've been doing hasn't made me particularly happy. The goal during my time at home was to explore my options- in particular the possibility of applying to film school.

It's no secret that I've loved movies for years. And with my love for movies has been a far-in-the-distance dream of someday being a director. But now that the time has come to act on this dream, I'm having second thoughts. Last week I had a talk with my parents and told them that I'm not sure I want to go back to school at this time in my life. I know it sounds silly- "you've been dreaming of being a filmmaker for years, you fucko, so what's the holdup?" Honestly, I don't know. My mom thinks I'm afraid. See, my undergrad years pretty much sucked- the only education I found worthwhile was found in movie theatres- and they became a kind of cruel joke when it turned out that the only thing that I (who went in undecided) was interested in studying wasn't offered at a university with over 200 majors. D'oh! So, two years into my college education, getting plenty of financial aid from the school, I decided to finish out my time at OSU by... coasting. I didn't try, because I didn't care.

Cut to today, 4 1/2 years after graduation. I'm still working for the same company I did in college, making a good deal less than a college grad prolly ought to make (of course, this is relative; I grew up hearing from my folks that a college degree would open all kinds of doors for me, and now I'm just grateful to be getting medical coverage so that if I'm ever plowed over by a lorry [yes, I just wrote "lorry"- I also say "gair-idge" when talking about where I park my car at home] I won't have to die to avoid paying out the ass for the rest of my life). I don't mind my job, but it doesn't really fulfill me from an intellectual standpoint- consider today, when my entire staff was comprised of high schoolers (felt a little like Romper Room). So you'd think it would be prime time to pursue the dream, before I get too old and have too many firm commitments (wife, kids... oh wait, I'm talking about myself here hahahahahahahahahahaha). But no. With me, it's never as simple as doing something. I have to think about it. I've always had to think about it, and more and more lately my thinking about things has led me to one potential consequence- failure.

FAILURE

Some people wouldn't consider me a failure. After all, I'm a college graduate with a management job, complete with benefits. But mostly, I feel like I've let myself down.

But enough of the self-pity. It's more than three months until New Year's.

The question is this- do I really not want to go to film school, or is there something inherent in my personality that holds me back from pursuing things I really want? I know I'm capable of writing good screenplays- writer-friends who've read what I've already written have told me so. And I'm certainly not at a loss for ideas- at this point, I have roughly ten screenplays that are at least in the mental-brewing phase, if not partially or completely finished. And I have particular ideas for how I'd like them to be made as well, so I'd like to direct them myself. Everything inside me tells me that if I ever want these ideas to be put to film, then going back to school is the most sensible way to make it happen. But of course it is- my concerns now are access to equipment and making connections to knowledgeable collaborators. And since Portage County, Ohio isn't a filmmaking mecca, and since I'm not the kind of schmoozer who could charm the pants off film-smart types so as to make them work for/with me, film school makes sense.

So what's the holdup already? Is it fear of failure that holds me back? Or is it something more insidious? Namely, the malaise that has crept into my life ever since I went to college, the safe and unchallenging contentment I get from coasting through life? Or it is simpler than either of these options? Do I honestly not want to go back to college?

And what if cinema is just a phase for me? There was a time in grade school when I would pore over every book I could find about the Presidents, memorizing every little tidbit of info I could digest that was even tangentially related (ultimate proto-geek moment: in third grade, correcting a tour guide at Monticello as to a portrait of Madison- he said it was Monroe- hanging on a wall). Are the movies just a more adult variation on that same theme?

Anyway, I don't usually beseech the reader(s) of this weblog to respond- though it's always welcome when he/they do/es- but honestly, I'm reaching out here. What do you guys think I should do? Peptalks/bitchslaps/alternative suggestions welcome, particularly from those of you who could steer me in a film-related direction.

P.S.: also, I find that screenwriting is pretty fucking tedious. If I had one wish, I'd wish for all the ideas in my head to be put to paper as I thought of them- I have no trouble revising and re-writing. Just wanted to get that out there.

Odds 'n' sods

- My folks are out of town on vacation, and my brother is staying at a friend's place, so I've got the house to myself this week. Which means I can shower with the bathroom door open and no one will be the wiser.

- The Cedar Lee theatre up in Cleveland has what has to be the smallest men's room stall I've ever encountered. Whenever I use it, my knees rest comfortably against the door. Perhaps this was an attempt by the theatre's management back in the day to fit another toilet into a small space, but yeesh.

- The other day I put my boxer shorts on backwards, so that the opening was in the back. I was wondering what that draft on my ass was...

- Pet Peeve #2: People who don't leave messages on the answering machine. Isn't it about 25 years past time to be reluctant to talk to machines? My hatred of these sorts began when I was living alone and my telephone was positioned right next to the bed (the only jack in the house was there, so I didn't have much of a choice). I didn't mind when I was awakened by the machine picking up (I usually turned my ringer off, and a voice is easier to wake up to than a ring) but when people wouldn't bother to leave even their name behind, I felt downright insulted. Am I not important enough to know who is calling when I'm away from the telephone or something? Even now that I don't sleep next to the telephone, my disgust at these characters remains.

- Pet Peeve #3: Cars with exhaust pipes pointing to the side. I'm the sort of driver who prefers rolling the window down to turning on the A/C whenever I have the choice, but people who drive cars with sideways-pointing tailpipes make my day thoroughly unpleasant. The worst part is that I drive a small car, and the offending vehicles tend to be larger, making the likelihood even greater that the cloud of exhaust will be aimed at the level of my open window. It's bad enough when you get a faceful from a gas-burning SUV, but the worst is when you're seated at a stop light next to a twenty-year-old van like the ones repairmen invariably drive.

- For the last day or so I've had the Soft Bear song stuck in my head, with my own personal twist of it being sung to "Every Sperm Is Sacred." It feels simultaneously adorable and naughty, with the usual annoyance of not being able to free one's mind from a song.

Bric-a-brac

- A few weeks ago one of the managers at my current theatre resigned, so the other two managers convinced me to apply for the position. So, not really sure of my chances, I sent it in, and last week I drove up to Cleveland for an interview. Yesterday I got the call from him, and he offered me the spot. So I'm pretty happy about that. I was a little uneasy at first, since the theatre is somewhat understaffed, and given that I'm usually scheduled the most hours of anyone who isn't a manager I wondered if it might cause trouble if I were to vacate my staff spot. But my head manager assured me that it shouldn't cause too much trouble, and more importantly if they (now meaning we) are to build up the staff the management team needs to be on solid ground. If the foundation is weak, the rest will crumble- I'm paraphrasing here- so I can be of greatest help in a position of greater responsibility. Anyway, I'm stoked.

- Tonight, driving home from work, I decided to take the scenic route, and on the road I hit an opossum. The funny thing is that, though I probably killed a living thing, I don't feel bad. Setting aside the fact that opossums are nasty creatures, I think my lack of remorse comes from the details of the incident. It was dark, but I was driving the speed limit on a straight road with my headlights on, and the animal clearly saw me (I noticed its head turn toward the light well in advance). Here's the kicker- the opossum made absolutely no effort to move out of the way. What the fuck kind of survival instinct is that? Say you're sitting there, minding your business, when something much bigger than you comes roaring at you with its lights on at a fairly high speed (in relation to how small you are anyway). What do you do: (A) get the blue fuck out of the way, or (B) sit there and stare? Maybe I'm anthropomorphizing (spelling?) but any little thing that chooses (B) gets no sympathy from me. A deer, on the other hand, is a different story. Those things can do damage, and no amount of free venison could pay for the repairs I'd need.

- I'm getting reallyreallyreallyreally tired of this creationism/evolution hubbub. Let's get this clear: science requires proof, and religion requires faith. I'm sure there's a place where the two can be rectified, but a science classroom is not that place. Teach the Bible on your own time in my opinion.

- I stopped drinking caffeinated beverages a few years ago, mostly because they contributed to the migraines that have plagued me all my life- I still get them, but not nearly so frequently- but also because they made me edgy. But sometimes I still crave the taste of cola, and since I don't like artificial sweeteners, I'm pretty much out of luck. Why is it that Coke and Pepsi have caffeine-free diet varieties, but not caffeine-free non-diet? Or do they exist in places where I haven't yet looked? If anyone knows where I could find caffeine-free cola that has sugar in it, please let me know.

- I dropped by DiVitis' Italian Market the other day for the first time since I moved home. Man, that place is great. They make their own sausage- I plan to try the new Sicilian sausage next time I visit- and they also have a good selection of other stuff, Italian and otherwise. I would have gotten a cannoli had any been made at the time. It's just a little locally-owned place, but every time I've gone in the past it's been pretty busy, which warms my heart. I love to see little stores like DiVitis' maintain a consistent level of success.

- THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN is awesome. More to come.

"Sitting on the hillside / watching all the people die"

A rare and rather pleasurable thing happened to me this afternoon- the theatre called me at home and actually told me I didn't have to come in for work. I suppose I should explain further. Normally, I wouldn't be scheduled in the projection booth on Saturday night because that's when the union projectionist comes in. However, he took a vacation this week sort of at the last minute, so I was somewhat easily persuaded to take over his shift this evening (I had no plans, so why not?). But at 3:30 this afternoon I got a call from my manager, informing me that the union guy had gotten one of his fellow union projectionists to take over the shift, and so I could have the night off. So hey, cool.

But that's merely a lead-in to what's on my mind right now. When I mentioned the turn of fortune to my dad, he suggested I go out and do something tonight. Perhaps, he mused, I should call a woman I went out with once a few months ago, last time I came home. Now, I didn't have a bad time with her or anything. We sat and talked for a few hours, I liked her and I hope she didn't find me objectionable. However, aside from this one date, we've kept in contact exclusively via e-Mail for the past couple of months, and have never spoken over the telephone. So I semi-demurred, stating that I have several Netflix and NicheFlix DVDs sitting in my room that won't watch themselves (for the curious: Chushingura, Cool Hand Luke, Come Drink With Me, and Turning Gate).

But what troubles me is that maybe I've fallen into a pattern that finds almost no room for interpersonal contact. As a more cinephilic Max Fischer might say, "perhaps I should be spending less time working and watching nerdy movies and more time trying to score chicks." Is my love for cinema legitimate, or is it emblematic of a retreat I've made from the outside world? To put it more bluntly, am I afraid of the biggest unknown of all, other people?

As I said before, I had a good time on my semi-date a few months back. So it's not like I find the idea of talking to this woman unpleasant. And she gave me her telephone number in case I had to contact her last time, so obviously she's not horrified about the idea of my telephoning her either. But part of me just isn't comfortable calling her out of the blue like this. Since we've never spoken on the telephone, I don't want to commit some social breach with her by calling her when she doesn't know I'm going to, but is this a case of me being polite, or is it fear masquerading as decorum?

A final thought: what does it mean when your own parents are encouraging you to get a social life?

Under One Roof

I've been getting a distinct ROYAL TENENBAUMS vibe since last night, when my younger brother moved back into the basement temporarily. I guess he had some issues with his apartment and his job and his roommate and his car, so now he's crashing here for a few weeks while he hunts for a new job and a new place to live. I don't have a problem with him moving home per se- lord knows I'm in no position to- but I don't look forward to his time here either.

A lot of this has to do with his relationship with my mother, which is, to put it mildly, strained. More to the point, they've been antagonistic toward each other for years. While she's never been the smothering type or a disciplinarian, she's very strong of will and free to offer strong suggestions. I'm cool with that, but my brother is not, and he is incapable of just saying "yeah, uh-huh" and letting it go. Another problem is that my brother is actively lazy, to the point one can be without actually putting any effort into it. Leave him to his own devices, and he'll sleep fourteen hours every night and leave a stack of filthy dishes on the floor of his bedroom (I'm not hypothesizing here). So whenever he moves home, my mother feels the need to impose strict rules on him- she and my dad are in charge, after all- and since he clearly wants to feel grown-up and independent despite not having a job, an apartment, etc., he protests loudly. What really gets my goat is that his ideas of grown-up life are so unformed, yet he so resolutely refuses to change them to accomodate the outside world. He's like a six-year-old who looks forward to being an adult so that he can drive, watch dirty movies, and move out of the house, but can't quite grasp the responsibility that comes with this increased freedom. My experience living away from home was hardly a rousing success, but at least I got my bills paid on time.

My personal relationship with my brother hasn't always been rosy either. We're civil now, but it hasn't always been so. Back when we were both still living at home before I went to college, he seemed to equate me with mom because I wasn't exactly receptive to his shenanigans, and this was compounded by the fact that he was a few years behind me in school. Because of this, he had several teachers who had previously taught me, and they would sometimes approach him as my little brother, with the expectations that came with that. I was a good student once upon a time, and maybe there was some pressure on his part to live up to the expectations I set (a friend once dubbed him "LIPS"- meaning "lives in Paul's shadow"). But I wasn't off the hook either. Maybe because he has never been the kind of guy to do his own legwork, he participated in many of the same activities (Boy Scouts, marching band, choir, and so on) as I did, which became quite the annoyance for me, since he wasn't very good at most of them and was hanging around largely because I was there. If he was any other kid, he might have taken the hint that the activity wasn't for him, but because I was there, I suppose he figured that since I could do it so could he, and so he tried to coast on the goodwill I had built over the years.

My brother has always been mouthy, but ever since he served in the Navy he's gotten pretty unbearable. He seems to lack the capacity for empathy, and whenever he meets someone with whom he could establish some common ground, he instead adopts an antagonistic stance. For example, at a wedding we both attended in January, he met a girl who had served in the Army, but instead of commiserating about their service experiences he gave her crap about how the Army supposedly sucks compared to the Navy. Yeah, real cool. He's one of the most self-centered people I've ever met, to be honest, and it's this selfish outlook on life that causes him to learn precisely the wrong lessons from his bad experiences. Mom disciplines him not because he needs to shape up, but because she's a bitch (his word). The Navy cracked down on him not because he was averse to discipline but because they're a bunch of assholes. And so on.

So there it is, my brother. I know that he's not as entertaining a topic as Barry Manilow-themed license plates or Cameron Diaz's scrawny tush, but life isn't all sunshine and roses. I don't mean to sounds like I hate the guy, but maybe if I vent now I'll get it out of my system so I can just ignore him for these next few weeks.

Funniest. License. Plate. Ever.

So I didn't work today, and when I went to the grocery store (alone, so don't expect a shopping rant) I saw a minivan with a license plate reading "FANILOW." Honest, I did. Now, I've listened to some sappy stuff in my time, but seriously, what kind of person actually proclaims himself a Manilow fan on his/her license plate, so that every snarky-ass person can chuckle to himself and maybe even write an otherwise pointless blog entry about it?

Heh heh. FANILOW.