Josh o' Trades

Friday, March 31, 2006

Feature Friday: Heat

It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Rueben and I were at the bank, making a deposit. It was around 2:15 and the place was deserted. As we were just about to leave, an armored truck pulled up. Apparently to pick up the excess cash from the vault and the ATM and carry it back to the main branch, downtown.

But what got our attention, was that there was only one driver. And only one guard at the bank. I turned to Rueben and raised my eyebrows.

"You saw that too?" he asked.

Yeah, I saw it. And immediately started working on the story that would eventually become the main focal point of my novel, The Choirboy Chronicles.

However, at the time, it got Rueben and me thinking of how easy it could have been. How effortless. As he said, "We have nothing to lose." It really was an interesting proposition...

This past weekend, The Elfin Princess and the Lord of War and myself saw Spike Lee's newest joint, Inside Man. Now, I adore a good bank heist, and I love a clever script. I'm pleased to say that Inside Man is both. And so much more. Denzel Washington is great as the Detective in charge. And Clive Owen is masterful as the con trying to pull off the perfect bank robbery.

It got me thinking of old the Sidney Lumet films, of Serpico, and Dog Day Afternoon. Of Scorsese's Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. How I loved Pacino and De Niro. And how for one glorious moment, in the summer of 1995, the planets aligned to give us those two very wonderful actors together in one of the greatest heist films of all time.

Title: Heat
Year: 1995
Director: Michael Mann
Staring: Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, Val Kilmer, Jon Voight, Tom Sizemore, Diane Venora, Amy Brenneman, Ashley Judd, Natalie Portman

Our film opens with Neil McCauley's (De Niro)'s crew getting ready for a job. They are a whip-sharp group consisting of the point man, Michael Cheritto (Sizemore), demolition's expert, Chris Shiherlis, (Kilmer), and even President Palmer himself, Dennis Haysbert. This is a close-nit crew, and everyone has their job to do. We find out early on that they've taken on a new member, Waingro, played by uber-thug, Kevin Gage. This will prove to be a mistake.

The opening job is to knock over an armored truck. McCauley's crew is quick and efficient. Bold, yet calculating. With nothing is left to chance. Nothing but Waingro, that is. Turns out he thinks himself a cowboy, and shoots an unarmed security guard just because he can. McCauley knows he in trouble now, and tries to find a way to clean up Waingro's mess.

Meanwhile, Lt. Vincent Hanna (Pacino) is having troubles of his own. His new wife, Justine (Venora) and her daughter Lauren (Portman). Looking for a way to escape the situation at home, Hanna delves into the armored truck case.

McCauley is approached by his fence, Nate (Voight), and is presented with a high-caliber, high-profile job: knock off a large bank in downtown L.A. While he's deciding if he want to take the job or not, he meets Eady (Brenneman), and starts a relationship with her.

As McCauley's life starts to settle down, Hanna's starts to take off. He tracks down Shiherlis' wife, Charlene (Judd), and starts twisting the screws. McCauley becomes wise to this, however, and starts playing a game of cat and mouse with Hanna, with each trying to outsmart the other.

It boils down to a daring daylight robbery complete with what is probably the best shoot-out ever caught on film.

Heat is a very clever, very pretty movie. Mann, known for his beautiful imagery, doesn't disappoint here. He uses a bold color palette, and L.A. has never looked better.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Pacino is king. He has a commanding presence in this film that is hard to deny. He is at times both charming and intimating. A very versatile actor who loves chewing his way through a scene. In a key scene with De Niro, one where both of them are in a diner, he decides to play it very subtle. Very quiet. Very calculating. It's quite impressive and over far too quickly.

De Niro is very convincing as Neil McCauley. It's a character you've seen before, but Bobby breathes new life into him. He's just as clever and charming as Hanna. But that dangerous side is just a heartbeat away. And you never know what will set it off. But McCauley is so good at what he does, you're rooting for him to get away with it from almost the get go.

These are 2 of the finest actors working today. And while they haven't been in top form in a while, it's good to go back and watch films like these that remind us why we loved them in the first place.

The supporting cast is quite good as well. Sizemore has fun as Cheritto and Kilmer disappears into the role of Chris Shiherlis. Both do a wonderful job as the main members of the best crew in L.A., and it's fun to see them do what they do. They play a major part in the shoot-out that is the film's climax, and the results are just breathtaking.

But the men in the movie wouldn't be who they are without the women in their lives. Diane Venora is as elegant as Judd is tough and Brenneman is vulnerable. Each are the equal of the men they stand behind. And each help to bring the film to a new level. There's even a look at the early career of Natalie Portman. While her role is small, it does play a major part in Hanna's development and gives us an understanding to why he makes the decisions he does.

A very enjoyable film, with great actors and a very clever story. And one that I'd recommend seeing with a surround-sound system. You won't be sorry.

-Jos

"When I was young I thought that money was the most important thing in life; now that I am old I know that it is." ~Oscar Wilde

Thursday, March 30, 2006

M-I-C-K-E-Y

When I was working at (NAME WITHHELD) there was a guy who came around every month or so to service all of the printers we used. His name was Mickey. Mickey was in his early 60's, had grown kids and a couple of grandkids.

Here was a guy who should have been resting in a hammock somewhere with a stack of books as tall as he was. Instead, Mickey was on the road well over 300 days of the year, running from one printhouse to another. And not because he loved it. (He hated the entire print industry, as a matter of fact.) No, he did it because he didn't have 2 dimes to rub together most of the time.

Mickey did what he did because he didn't know anything else. He had no savings, no pension, no nest-egg. No rich relative from which to receive a large inheritance. No, Mickey was stuck. Going where no one else wanted to go. Doing what no one else wanted to do. Because he had to. If he didn't, chances were pretty good that he wouldn't have a job anymore.

I don't want to end up like that. I don't want to do what I'm doing today for the next 30 years. I don't want to be Mickey.

But there are times I feel like I'm well on my way. And that scares me to no end.

-Jos

"There is much in the world to make us afraid. There is much more in our faith to make us unafraid." ~Frederick W. Cropp

Walking On Eggshells

Now, it's one thing to fight the urge to cram a keyboard down the throat of a client who's expectations are set somewhere in the ionosphere, but it's quite another when they get offended when asked what her PMS Color is. Granted, I try to use the full name, Pantone Matching System, whenever I can, and the client in question was being a tad bit - shall we say, witchy? But, come on! Offended? For 3 letters that aren't so universal, after all. Really?

At least we didn't order a Test & Approval, or, you know, a T&A...

Strange things are afoot here, at the Circle K, my friends. Writing is being done, but not for spec-scripts. Drawings are being made, but not for storyboards. And friendships are being lost, but not by betrayals. Boy Scouts are being hounded Uncle Sam, power struggles are coming to a head, and dark allegiances are being formed.

I'm just ready for this week to be over. Once again, I feel like I've worked 80 hours, and it's only Thursday. Not that I haven't pulled that off before, but this is different. This is an emotional weariness, as well as a physical one. My neck and back haven't stopped aching, and I'm not convinced it's solely because of the change in the weather.

Something's up. I can smell it in the air. I can feel it in my bones. And, I'm not sure what the final outcome is going to be.

It's a dark time for our rebellion, Dear Readers. At least at times like these I can find solace and serenity in the shadow of the moon. Wait. That's no moon...

-Jos

"In certain trying circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity furnishes a relief denied even to prayer." ~Mark Twain

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Occam's Razor

It's not always fun being able to determine what's about to happen. To sense when a project will fall through. To choose not to read the writing on the wall. To convince yourself that you did not interpret the body language a certain way.

Sometimes, it's better for the soul to try to come up with explanations for events that are far less realistic than the simple truth. A truth you don't want to face. Ironically, a truth we can't handle. Sometimes it's better to hide behind our imaginations and let the world exist in a million shades of grey. When, of course, most of the time it is only black and white.

But, in the end, Occam was right. The simplest explanation is almost always the correct one.

We have been blessed with intelligence. With the ability to reason. With the hunger for knowledge. But, alas, it's also a curse. One that feeds on emotion. On inspiration. On dreams.

Sometimes, I just hate knowing what's about to happen before it actually does.

Goodnight, my friend. May your days always be long, and your nights be warm.

-Jos

"I felt it shelter to speak to you." ~Emily Dickinson

Monday, March 27, 2006

Don't Drink And Draw...

I've noted on several occasions that Shiner Bock was the official soft drink of the Dallas Art Institute, and with good reason. There were many a day when my cohorts would need the warming effects of that amber nectar just to make it thru the next class.

This was true at no greater time than the night before projects were due.

One such night took place during the end of our 3rd quarter. All of the Scosa's were accounted for: Sparky, Sti-Fu, Lady Steph, Belligerent Tom, Plainview, Sin-D, E-Rock, and myself. And Rueben. It was one of the last times all of us would be in the same class. Thanks, I'm sure, in part to our class administrative advisor, Lauren House, and her complete, bitter contemptment of the very air my small band of merry men (and women) breathed.

Anyway, I'd had to work at the Peach Pit until 9, and now it's after 10 pm and the crew has just decided to get around to the assignment, due the following morning at 8 am. If I recall correctly, the assignment was to create 3 different fashion designs, complete with textures and color schemes, directly onto the art board, and finish with taped edges and hardstock overlay for protection. As was my part on the assembly line, I was busy working away on the finished boards with the beveled mat cutter and black masking tape. (It helps to realize that I do this not only because I'm the one sober person in the room at this point, but also, that I wouldn't trust the rest of those idiots with a sharp blade if my life depended on it. Which it did, at one point, but that too, is another story.)

So I look over at the group to see how close we are to finishing, and see them converging over Rueben. Now, Rueben had started drinking sometime around 9 that morning in order to stay on the same level of McCoy, our life drawing instructor. (This was something of a must with McCoy, seeing as she herself had a tendency to spend a little too much time conversing with the Dark Troll.) Regardless, Rueben's somewhere into his 3rd case of Shiner by that point, and is feeling quite good about the state of the world.

Except, here's the thing. He's so blitzed that he's done the assignment in the BACK of the art board. The blue side. Sparky and Sti-Fu are crying, they're laughing so hard, and Lady Steph's rolling around on the Sugar-Pop covered floor. I (being the usual voice of reason) make a motion to alert Rueben of his folly. But to no avail. The others won't stand for it. "It's time for us to stop bailing him out," they state. "It's time for him to take responsibility for his own actions."

Cut to class, the next day. Rueben can't even remember the day before, let alone the project (which I matted and overlaid for him, anyway) so he doesn't see it before he turns it in. The rest of us are hovering around the instructor's desk, waiting for her to start grading.

Now, the story could end here, and I'd be happy if it did. Because it would prove how good triumphs over evil. How doing your best will help you overcome the pitfalls of society. How life could be seen as fair.

So, of course, it doesn't...

See, when we got the projects back, our instructor was in a mood about how we just didn't understand the assignment. How we were just putting designs down on paper with no real passion for it. How none of the projects held even the slightest level of creativity.

Save one.

Yeah, you guessed it. Overwhelmed by his sense of originally and ability to think outside the box, Rueben was given the only "A" on that project.

Just goes to show you, life is only as fair as you can fake it.

Take heed, kids, don't drink and draw...or you'll end up getting an A.

Think I need a drink...

-Jos

Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself, it is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver. ~Jack Handey ~Saturday Night Live

Saturday, March 25, 2006

So It's Come To This, Eh?

I agree with Wing. You geeks have gone too far!

Varnell, I'm looking at you...

"You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm." ~Colette

Friday, March 24, 2006

Feature Friday: The Rocketeer

I've always wanted to fly. When I was a kid, I used to safety-pin beach towels around my neck and jump out of the tallest trees I could climb. (Was also pushed out of my treehouse at one point, but that's another story) I gave the 'rents gray hairs by running along rooftops with John Williams' Superman theme blasting loudly from my bedroom window.

As I grew older, that passion turned into an interest in aviation. I spent hours pouring over library and text books on every kind of aircraft I could get my hands on. I took trips to Shreveport's Barksdale AFB, where I could study up close such planes as the F-14 Tomcat and (my favorite) the SR-71 Blackbird. I also grew to love the style and elegance of the vintage pre-WWII planes I found in my research.

During high school, I briefly joined the Civil Air Patrol with the intention of joining the Air Force upon graduation. I had dreams of attending the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. This dream was short lived, though, when I discovered that my bad ears put me on the blacklist of ever becoming a pilot. If I were to fly anything for Uncle Sam, it would be a desk.

However, it was during my short stint in CAP that I saw a movie that gave my love of flight a shot in the arm. (And no, it wasn't Top Gun. That was 6th grade, and only made we want to do 2000 crunches a day and play volleyball. That, and feel weird about having to see Tom Cruise in his Tidy-Whities.) No, this film was based on the work of Dave Stevens, one of my favorite artists at the time. The graphic novel was full of action, adventure, mobsters, Nazis, and wantabe actresses. Oh, and a portable jetpack that could carry you into the sky without that cumbersome plane around you to hinder the experience.

Title: The Rocketeer
Year: 1991
Director: Joe Johnston
Staring: Bill Campbell, Jennifer Connelly, Alan Arkin, Timothy Dalton, Paul Sorvino, Terry O'Quinn

Ah, 1930's Los Angeles. Clean air, beautiful countryside vistas, and Brother Justin on the radio. Also? Mobsters being chased by the fed's, each firing tommy-guns at the other. It seems that an experimental "object" has been stolen from Hughes Air, and Uncle Sam wants it back.

The theives are chased into an old airfield hanger used by barnstormers Cliff Secord (Campbell) and A. 'Peevy' Peabody (Arkin). During the firefight, Secord's plane is damaged and crashes. In the confusion, the theives switch the "object" for a vacuum cleaner in the hanger, and crash the car into a fuel truck. The feds assume the "object" is destroyed.

Once the dust settles, Cliff and Peevy find themselves without a plane for the Nationals . They discover the "object," and learn that it's really a rocket pack that can be worn on your back. In debt to airfield owner Otis Bigelow for the fuel truck, Cliff wants to try to use the rocket to earn some cash.

Meanwhile, Cliff's girl, Jenny (Connelly), is desperately trying to break into the acting business. She's enamored by the Errol Flynn-esque Neville Sinclair (Dalton), and dreams of being in a scene with him. Sinclair has another agenda, however, as we learn that he is the one who hired the theives to steal the rocket. Theives under the leadership of mob boss Eddie Valentine (Sorvino).

Over the course of the movie, bumbling mechanics are rescued in mid-air, mobster thugs are broken in half, quiet homes are shot up by the feds, girlfriends are kidnapped, Nazis are vanquished, and heroes are made. Add in everyone's favorite eccentric billionaire, Howard Hughes (O'Quinn), and you've got the makings of a great popcorn movie.

This is just a fun movie, no matter how you spin it. It has the feel of the old serials from which the characters are based (not to mention, the inspiration of a certain flannel-clad uber-director). The effects still hold up today, and the performances are sprinkled with a touch of innocence reminiscent of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Bill Campbell has fun with Cliff Secord. Not a Hollywood A-List actor, Campbel brings a sense of the everyman to his role. His reactions are natural and help you ride along side of him, experiencing everything as he does. Just a fun role.

I've spoken of Jennifer Connelly before, and nothing has changed. This was her first movie since her break-out role in Career Opportunities, and she doesn't disappoint. The Rocketeer was filmed over 15 years ago, and neither her acting nor her beauty have faltered since then. If anything, she's gotten better. On both counts.

Alan Arkin was born to play parts like this. His Peevy is the scatterbrained mechanic with touches of pure genius and a loveable demeanor. Arkin could have played this in his sleep, but didn't. He brings to Peevy an aloofness and spirit that grounds the character. You see the relationship of mentor he has to Cliff, and the bond between the two really shine through on screen.

I'd forgotten just how dashing Timothy Dalton could be. I supposed my judgment was clouded by his being horribly miscast as Bond in The Living Daylights and License to Kill (though Mark would disagree with me there). And there's really no excuse for Prince Barin. But, I watched The Rocketeer again last weekend and was truly amazed at how well Dalton played the part. He just looked so natural with a saber in his hand. And charming. Wow, it wasn't hard for Connelly to act attracted to the man. Dalton has fun with the part and does a good turn as the man with a secret.

And seeing John Locke on screen is just a treat. Even with hair, Terry O'Quinn brings with him a sense of importance and authority. And while he may not have had Leo's OCD, this was one Howard Hughes I could believe in.

All in all a fun movie with a little something for everyone. Go watch it this weekend and enjoy a snapshot of Hollywood in the golden days of yesteryear.

-Jos

"It's never safe to be nostalgic about something until you're absolutely certain there's no chance of its coming back." ~Bill Vaughn

Thursday, March 23, 2006

The 4th Law

I really shouldn't be telling you this story.

It's still far too early, as all of the principals are still alive.

That, and I could probably still get in trouble for it. Or grounded, at the very least...

It was my Junior year of high school, and getting close to Science Fair season. As my class was the one to beat (the top 1% of the entire North Louisiana school elite sat in my classroom), it was expected for us to come up with some pretty original projects. Now, at the time, I was too busy arguing with John Robert about the genius of adding the "Hamburger and French Fry Only" line to the cafeteria and debating the latest episode of "Head of the Class," to pick a good project off the list. Renee scooped up Hydroponics. Aaron chose Cryonics. And Opie took my old idea from the year before, Electrolysis (the tarnish removal system, not the hair removal one). So by the time the list got to me, there wasn't much left to choose from.

DDT (Dr. Donis Taylor) was already showing the early signs of impatience, despite us only being 5 minutes into the 1st hour, and she was ready to give the entire right half of the room detention just out of the sheer principal of the thing. So I said the first thing that came to mind: Thermodynamics. I'm not even sure where I'd heard it before. My mind has this bad habit of recording anything it sees or hears, regardless of the level of importance. The project seemed to please old Battle Axe, though, and that was good enough for me.

But now I was stuck. I had to do a project on an area of science I had no prior knowledge of. Now, some of you younglings out there won't believe this, but this was long before the Internet was even a twinkle in Al Gore's eye. And my home set of the Encyclopedia Glactica was published sometime around the Jefferson administration. The school text books were just as useless, seeing as how they claimed that Nixon was considering a 2nd term.

Now Blondie had a contact over at the LA Tech library, and scheduled some time to get me into the science department. So I made the trek to beautiful downtown Ruston, and did some research. Basically, Thermodynamics breaks down into 3 Laws:

First Law: Energy Can Be neither Created nor Destroyed

Second Law: The Entropy of an Isolated System always Increases

Third Law: The Entropy of a Perfect Crystal at Absolute Zero is Zero

All well and good, right? Right.

Thing is, I was about three pages too short for the assigned report, so I...well, I kinda made up a 4th law.

I know, I know, but that shows you just how bad the Louisiana school system is. And I'm not even sure today what I used as the 4th Law. But that's not important.

Because, here’s the thing. I made it to the state science fair on that one! At first, it was out of desperation to complete the assignment. Then, after I fooled my Chemistry teacher and a couple Shreveport scientists, I couldn’t resist. I had to see how far I could take it.

I'm pretty good at thinking on my feet, and have this (not entirely non-evil) ability to make what I'm saying sound believable. It may not have been too ethical, but man, was it ever fun! I won the school Science Award that year and was even given a medal and some cash for college by a local laboratory.

I’m going to hell for that. But it makes for a great story.

-Jos

"Science does not know its debt to imagination." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Reluctant Responsibilities

So dinner with Chase and the lovely Cas went well last night. Though, their apartment was next to impossible to find. Especially in the dark. That and a couple of the streets with very similar names didn't help much. However, once I made it inside their complex, all was good.

After a delicious home-cooked meal (man, when was the last time I had one of those?) Chase and I began to work on the storyboard breakdowns. Cas and I chimed in and we kind of re-wrote the intro the movie. Chase thinks it's a better opening (I hope), so I don't feel so bad about taking my idea and running with it. Now all I have to do is remember how to draw again, so I can get these storyboards out ASAP.

It's only Wednesday, but I feel like I've already worked a full week. I haven't been getting those daily pre-dawn wake up calls lately, but my body still feels drained. My back and neck have been getting stiff quicker and longer than before, and I'm starting to worry about it. The doc's said that I'd always have trouble with this, but I guess I wasn't expecting this much discomfort. Guess I'm just falling apart. Wonder how much Oscar Goldman would charge me for an upgrade?

Things over here are going well. For the moment. No word yet on the outcome of those late night rendezvous, so I can't share anything out of turn. The spec-script is shaping up. I talked Nathan and Jenny thru the outline, and they both gave me some good pointers. I have a brand new pack of Bristol blue-line artist boards sitting on my drawing table. Mocking me with their clean surfaces and their limitless possibilities. Their Jason Voorhees-esque mantra of "Submission...Submission" not so quietly lulling me to sleep at night. I still have time to put together a couple of pieces for the April DCC. Just need to sit down and do it. And the spec-script. And Chase's storyboards. And find some time for myself. And solve world hunger and discover a cure for the common cold while I'm at it.

And all that during my "free time."

Uh...yeah.

-Jos

"A man sooner or later discovers that he is the master-gardener of his soul, the director of his life." ~James Allen

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

It's Not On MY Side...

Ever had one of those days where time just seems to keep getting away from You?

All day long, I've tried not to look at the clock, because I'm already late, and I don't need the added reminder. Projects are due with no regard for proper deadlines, client meetings are running over with reckless abandon, and every time I've tried to stop and write an entry, something else crashes into my little corner of the world.

The evening looks promising, however. I'm going over to Chase's tonight to have dinner with him and Cas. Also, to work a little on the storyboards for his class film project. I'm sure it'll be fun.

Did see V for Vendetta Thursday night. VERY good. Highly recommended. Good story. Interesting characters. Moving plot. And Great effects. I probably shouldn't have chosen Thurs night to pull a double feature, seeing as I haven't done that in a while, but overall, I'm glad I did. Just wish my partner would have stuck it out for both movies. Enjoyment would have been had.

Not sure just what the weather has in mind for the rest of the month, though I wish it wouldn't involve my back quite so much. What with the rain last weekend and the winter-like chill in the air this week, the little demon pixies in my back are lashing out in full force. I can barely sit in one position for any length of time. Making that whole 10-12 hours at work sitting in front of the evil box all day, and the idiot box all night, fall just somewhere between having a root canal sans Novocaine and Chinese water torture. But without all the blissful death and all. Ah, the price we have to pay for the follies of our youth, huh?

Have a good evening. See you on the flip side.

-Jos

"Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils." ~Louis Hector Berlioz

Monday, March 20, 2006

When It Rains...

I'm sorry to report that my writing muse packed up her bags and went to stay at her mother's this past weekend. I started several entries both Friday and Saturday, but to no avail. I just couldn't find my rhythm, couldn't set my pace to open the floodgates of the Well of Lost Plots.

Everything I wanted to say...I couldn't. There are things going on in my life that I can't really share here, as this is a (somewhat) public journal, and I'd like to protect the privacy of the people in (and out of) my life, as well as my own. I'll never be able to tell you everything that's going on, but that was never the intention of this site anyway.

Regardless, due to unforeseen stresses on the job front, clandestine meetings in the dead of night, miscommunications and the inability to wear a decent poker face (not to mention that anniversary I'd rather not remember), the middle of the 3rd month hasn't been the best of times for me. And the torrents of rain that turned this weekend into something out of Noah's Captain's Log haven't helped much either.

On a lighter note, I was able to take Nathan out to lunch for his birthday. Yesterday, he and Jenny and I made our way thru the floods to Chipotle. Good food and good conversation, just what the doctor ordered. We talked about everything from Spring Break to the engineering disadvantages of college cafeterias to the elementary playgrounds of the late 70's and early 80's that seemed to be designed solely to kill children by way of natural selection. I mean, do you remember those playgrounds? Nathan and I are convinced that the parents of the 70's were only interested in making their kids as tough as humanly possible. Lawn Darts, anyone? Seriously, the playground at McDonalds was parking lot concrete, 3 feet thick with tissue-thin Astroturf stapled down over it. It's a wonder any of us survived at all.

I hope everyone made it home safe from the rain, even though we needed it. Just not all at once.

Thanks for stopping by.

-Jos
"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Is It Friday Yet?

Today was a good day. Dad and K made the trek up from the swamp to retrieve their truck and return my beloved Jo'T-mobile. The tech's did a good job repairing the damage to the front fender and I must say the new rocket launcher works extremely well. They even added a cloaking device for no extra cost.

The 'rents and I had lunch at Humperdink's and got to hang out a little. I'd forgotten that March Madness started today, so we had to yell over the den of excited of college B-Ball fans. Saw a report on the news this morning that said "experts" estimate that something like $1.4 billion will be lost nationwide due to employees paying more attention to their bracket than their job. Scary.

Actually going to get out of the house tonight. Have a movie or 2 lined up for tonight. Don't remember the last movie I saw in the theater. Brokeback, maybe? Anyway, I've got tickets for the new Bruce Willis flick, 16 Blocks. I hear good things, and I like Richard Donnor. Though, he has been more miss than hit as of late. Here's to him pulling this one out.

Also have tickets for an early screening of V For Vendetta. I'm a big fan of the graphic novel, and can't wait to see it on the big screen. Everything I've read and seen on it has been favorable. Keeping my fingers crossed. I'll let you know how it is.

We're already half way thru March, people. Can you believe it?

Enjoy the weather today (it was beautiful this afternoon). It's supposed to rain all weekend, so yeah.

Sorry for the lackluster entry. Nothing much to say today. I'll be better tomorrow for the Feature Friday. Promise.

Oh, and the meeting last night went well. I'll say more when I can...

Thanks for stopping by.

-Jos

Be content with what you have, rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you. ~Lao Tzu

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

All Good Things... (Take 3)

We had a saying back at Nomadic: "It's always faster the fifth time you do it." At first, it was used to illustrate the point that if you had time to reprint a job more than once, you had time to do it right the first time, regardless of rush.

All that is to say that this is my 3rd attempt to write this entry. My first try was this morning, but there's just never enough time in the morning to write what I want before the phones start ringing and I have to don my fireman's hat. The second time met with an untimely computer crash. That was around lunchtime so I decided to wait until now to try it one more time.

Hmm, just saw the calendar. Guess I, like Jules, should have listened to that soothsayer, huh?

Anyway, I had written a pretty good deal about how long I've been working in the trade show industry (12 years) and how the friendships I formed along the way were an inspiration to me, and how I'm not as satisfied with my chosen profession as much as I once was, and how much I'm ready for a career change. And perhaps out of the art field entirely. Yeah, it was going along fairly well. And then my computer crashed.

I was a little despondent today, what with all the projects on my desk that never seem to go away and constant feeling that I would be happier doing something else with my time and talents. Though, just WHAT that would be, I can't exactly say.

Well, it's mid-afternoon and I'm still more than a little burned out, but a paycheck and some Chipotle have helped replenish the old batteries. But I'll take gainful employment any day of the week. It's so much better than the alternative.

However, the times? they may be a changing. I have a meeting tonight that may well shape the direction of things to come. It's an exciting time here at Jo'T HQ, my friends. The winds of change are picking up. And they're threatening to blow this little house of cards away.

As always, I'll keep you posted, Dear Reader. You'll hear more as soon as I do.

Thanks for reading.

-Jos

"It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change." ~ Charles Darwin

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Be Careful What You Ask For...

Looks like 2006 is the new 1984. The Justice Department is asking Google to turn over a long list of search requests and Web site addresses. Google is saying "no" and the two camps are meeting before a U.S. District Court Judge later today.

This is a touchy subject, as it boils down to a privacy issue. Sure, the great and powerful Net is a useful resource for finding almost any information you could possibly need. However, that's where the problem lies.

It breaks down into two very separate but equal issues: A) It's too easy to access. And in the wrong hands, it can be very dangerous. And B) The public has a right to ensure that their privacy rights are protected.

It's a very gray area, what the DoJ is asking for. Although they claim that they don't want any personal information right now (and I'm sure they don't), who's to say that this won't open the doors for them to come back later and ask for it then.

How much privacy can we expect from a wide open internet with no boundaries? How much government control is too much? Where is the line drawn? And who decides when that line can be broken?

Now, I'm a big advocate of Google and it's fellow search engines, and I'm all for being able to access all I can from them. But I can also relate to the fact that we didn't know the inherent dangers of a world-wide information platform until it was too late to regulate it. And trying to go back now to try to set up those check points is like trying to stop the flood with your hands.

Perhaps it may have worked 10 or 12 years ago, back when the Net was just starting up. But now, it's just too little, too late.

-Jos

"The Internet is so big, so powerful and pointless that for some people it is a complete substitute for life." ~Andrew Brown

Monday, March 13, 2006

The Hero Of Canton

I had to turn the Jo'T-mobile over to the tech's this weekend to install a new rocket launcher and upgrade to a full hover-conversion. So for the next couple of days, I'll be sporting around town in Dad's little S-10. I had to go all the way to outer-rim Canton to pick it up. And while I didn't see the mudder statute raised to the man they call Jayne, I did get to see a pretty darn good auto swap-meet.

I met up with Dad and K around 11 or so. After a quick bite, we headed over to the 1st Monday campgrounds, where the meet was taking place. They had just about anything you could think of in way of cars, from headlights and overhead cam shafts to full chassis to fuel-injection manifolds. And EVERYTHING in between.

There were tables full of model cars. Tables with nothing but auto tools. Some were covered with tin-metal advertisements while others held glass cases filled with trinkets from days long gone. Dad found an bottle of a soda he used to drink when he was a kid and a parts catalogue from 1960 on. K found some bric-a-brac to decorate the homestead with. I found some old Asian coins dating back to the 15th century, if the dates are to be believed.

And then there were the cars themselves. Everything from your low end (a 1943 International Pick-Up Truck) to the very high end (a cherry 1978 Camero). There were Mustangs and Chevy's and Cobras galore. Even a Mercedes or two. And all ranging in varying degrees of "some assembly required."

All in all, not a bad way to spend a Saturday. Though, I would've rather not sat on 635 for over an hour once I got back, but, then again, nothing says welcome home quite like a traffic jam.

The rest of the weekend went well. Friday night was devoted to my Browncoat brainwashing scheme to take over my pitiful little band of miscreants. And Sunday saw the Apocalypse Queen off to her home galaxy for a few days for some well earned R&R. The group had lunch after church and brought along a visitor to the class. We may have scared her a little bit, what with all our collective mind reading and inside jokes and subtle mockery. Though, she seemed to enjoy herself. We'll see if she comes back.

And last night was spent at Seattle Grace Hospital, with JJ and E taking bets on which patient would check out first, and Goulet and myself having to admit that McDreamy does indeed have some pretty nice hair.

Hope you all are adjusting well, as yet another weekend has come and gone.

-Jos

"To be natural is such a very difficult pose to keep up." ~Oscar Wilde

Friday, March 10, 2006

Feature Friday: Moonlight Mile

When I was in Jr. High, my buddy James and I were big fans of the TV show My Sister Sam. Not particularly because it was a good show, because...no. We faithfully watched it every week for one very important reason: We were in love with the Sisters Russell. I had a huge crush on Pam Dawber (still do) and James was infatuated with Rebecca Schaeffer.

The show was centered around Schaeffer's Patti Russell, a teenager who moves to San Francisco to live with her big sister, Samantha 'Sam' Russell, played by Dawber.

As I said, the show wasn't exactly M*A*S*H, and quickly went the way of the dodo halfway thru it's 2nd season.

However, most people would not even remember the show at all if not for what happened almost a year after it wrapped. On 18 July, 1989, 21 year old Rebecca Schaeffer was shot to death in her West Hollywood apartment by a deranged fan. Her murder led to the classification of stalking as a felony in California.

At the time of her death, Schaeffer was dating Brad Silberling. He took his own experiences and used them to write and direct the movie Moonlight Mile.

Title: Moonlight Mile
Year: 2002
Director: Brad Silberling
Staring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, Susan Sarandon, Careena Melia, Ellen Pompeo, Holly Hunter

Set in an unnamed town during the mid 1970's, Moonlight Mile opens on the morning of Diana Floss' (Melia) funeral. We meet Joe Nast (Gyllenhaal) and soon learn that he is living with Diana's parents, Ben (Hoffman) and JoJo (Sarandon) and that he and Diana were engaged.

The drive to the funeral is wrought with emotion as the family sees that the world does not stop just because someone you love has passed away. It's painful and profound at the same time.

As time passes we learn that Joe is training to be a real estate agent to work along side Ben. In order for Ben and Joe to get in good terms with the agency, they need to arrange to buy a bar that is sitting in the middle of a property that has already been promised to a wealthy land developer. Ben thinks it would be good for Joe to try to work the sell, in an attempt to keep his mind off the recent tragedy. (We learn that Diana was shot in the town diner, and that the trail of the killer is rapidly approaching.)

As Joe enters the bar to start negotiations, he is met with hostility in the form of the bartender, Ty (Judging Amy's Richard T. Jones). It seems that the bar owner, Cal McGinnis, is MIA in Vietnam, and Ty, is helping running things until he returns. Ty quickly shuts down Joe's attempt to talk real estate, and all but shoves him out the door.

Meanwhile, at the Floss house, JoJo, an accomplished writer, is struggling through her grief in the form of writer's block. She and Ben are barely holding it together, and it's obvious that they view Joe as their last link to their lost daughter.

Joe has the unenviable task of going to the Post Office to retrieve the invitations to a wedding that is never going to happen. While there, he meets Bertie Knox (Pompeo), part time mail clerk and fellow wounded heart.

When Diana's friends show up one night to force Joe to leave the house and try to cheer him up, they end up at Cal's Bar. Joe makes his way over to the jukebox and selects Moonlight Mile, by the Stones. Something strange happens here, as Bertie shows up, from seemingly nowhere, for a dance.

Turns out that Bertie and Cal are involved, and that Moonlight Mile was their song. The bar patrons help her keep Cal alive in her memories by dancing with her to the song.

Joe, not understanding any of this, finds himself in an awkward position. After the dance, he quickly flees, his new feelings for Bertie both intriguing and shameful at the same time. He is torn between is loyalty to the Floss' and the memory of Diana.

To make matters worse, Ben is pressuring Joe to become a partner, while JoJo is slowly disappearing under a mountain of grief oriented self-help books. Also, prosecutor Mona Camp (Hunter) is busy getting everyone prepped for the trial. Plus, Joe is harboring a secret that could destroy all that the family has worked so hard for.


I remember seeing the trailer for this movie in the theater and being interested. And then nothing. It never come out. It wasn't until it came out on DVD was I able to finally watch it. It was worth the wait.

I knew what had happened to Rebecca Schaeffer, but didn't know that Silberling had been her boyfriend. He does a remarkable job here. Showing grief from a truly honest position. I've never seen loss played out quite so convincingly before. The story takes a few turns you don't expect, but then, so does real life.

Jake Gyllenhaal is one of those actors I've had my eye on for some time. His turns as Homer Hickam in October Sky and as the title role in Donnie Darko show just how diverse an actor he can be. His outstanding performances in both this year's Proof and Brokeback Mountain proved he is not just a one hit wonder, but a very capable young actor.

His Joe Nast is not an easy role to play. Joe has layers of grief and sadness built into the emotional wall around him, but he must also show the occasional glimmer of hope of someday coming out the other side. You feel his struggle and his dilemma. He is a young man, forced to decide if he will take up the life he promised to his now deceased girlfriend, without her by his side, or does he strike out on his own, and live his life to the fullest, and leave his surrogate family behind? It's a hard choice, and not one easily, or quickly, made. And Gyllenhaal plays it well.

Dustin Hoffman, in roles like this one, is just marvelous to behold. He truly becomes Ben Floss, so much that you never see him acting. It's all natural. All subtle. All real. His reactions and silences speak volumes and Silberling is wise let him run with it. It's awkward and embarrassing and heartwrenching and honest. Watching this character go through what he has to breaks your heart. And lifts your spirits. They just don't make them like Hoffman anymore.

Nor Susan Sarandon either, for that matter. There's a reason the woman's had 4 Oscar nominations and walked away with a Best Actress statue. She's very good at what she does. And here, she doesn't disappoint. JoJo Floss is a character that could have easily been pushed into the background, and in the hands of another actress, most assuredly would have. But Sarandon takes control and never lets you forget that she's there. Her chemistry with both Hoffman and Gyllenhaal plays quite well. You believe that this woman has lost her child, and the longing - and hunger - in her eyes, that unheard question of "why?" is always visible. Is always brought to the foreground. And you see that she is the glue that holds this family together. JoJo and Ben are one. They complement each other so well, that they have no choice but to overcome this tragedy and move on with their lives. Their very natures provide no other outcome.

Holly Hunter plays Mona Camp, the prosecutor or during the trial in this movie. She doesn't have a large role (she spent most of her time as a producer on the film) but she is always fresh and vibrant on screen. She has a mission, and she's doing her best to make sure that mission is fulfilled.

Ellen Pompeo (Grey's Anatomy's Dr. Meredith Grey) has probably the hardest role to play in the film. She has to play the other woman, but be likable enough not to be the rebound girl. She has to open up just enough to get Joe to notice her without betraying her loyalty to Cal. And she has to play both the strong independent and the fragile damsel. And she has to play it all at the same time. That's very hard to do, and pull off naturally, but Pompeo does it with aplomb. I eagerly look forward to many more films from this talented actress.

I had the misfortune of losing 3 very dear friends during my high school years. I know the cycle of grief and what emotions can do to a person. I can see how the actions taken during those times can be seen and misunderstood from a person on the outside. And I know how devastating a personal loss can be.

Time can cause the pain to dull some, but the ones lost will always be there. In some form or another. People look for answers in the most strangest places. Some find them in religion. Some in outside stimuli. Others find the answers deep within themselves. Most of the time, the answer is never good enough.

We just have to accept that for what it is. Life is not fair. But, the ones we love and lose, will always live on within us. As long as we, in return, just live.

-Jos

"A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own." ~Thomas Mann

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Hi Hey Hiya HEEELLLLOOOO

Short, Brown Hair Guy no here today. Today, me, Sergeant Pepper. Or Pep, as he call me. Or Pepster. Or Peprika. No like Peprika. HAAAATE Peprika! Me no spice! Me Queen. No no no, stupid B&N page, not THAT Queen. This Queen. Yes. Much better.

Anyway, like I say, Short, Brown Hair Guy no here. He gone "work." I use parenthesis here cause I no think he go there. Noone work THAT much. He just no like me. He hate cats. You no believe me? You want proof? Here proof: He no clean litter box every 3 hours like I demand. He no buy bottled water for mine drink. He buy only dry crunch crunch, not smelly can food I only eat 2 bites of. He no cut my claws, EVER! I scratch carpet. He say bad word. I laugh. He friends with cat starver Omar. He friends with weird girl Pamie and her stoopid cats.

You still no believe me? You still think Short, Brown Hair Guy too nice? Here. Read opening of no name story I find on computer:

Sammie McKinney had long held onto the notion that Eric’s Aunt Becca was a witch. When they were kids, Sammie and Eric were fascinated by the way that Becca never cut her hair. They would take turns hiding in the master bedroom and peering through the crack in the bathroom door just to catch a glimpse of that mane of grayish black frizz that hung almost to the floor. Eric was scared that any number of animals could get trapped in there and never find their way out. Sammie, the older of the two by six whole days, was far more mature in her fears in that she couldn’t see how Becca would be able to water ski with all that hair. Not, it had to be mentioned, that they had ever seen Becca water ski. But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Aunt Becca was short, and pear shaped, and smelled of castor oil. And cackled. The woman actually cackled. A high-pierced combination snort / laugh / cough that could strip the varnish off of a footlocker. It used to scare Eric’s younger cousins so much that they begged not to have to go to her house during Christmas vacation. And who could scare little kids at Christmas, but a witch?

On several occasions Sammie and Eric had searched the entire house for a caldron, an assortment of brooms, shrunken heads, any kind of hard evidence proof of Aunt Becca’s coven. Eric had checked out a book on witches at the library back home, and the first thing that had struck their minds as interesting was that all witches belonged to a coven.

However, the closest thing Becca had even resembling that of a witch, besides a few musty roots in the cellar, was Omar, her mangy, one-eyed, kid hating, and unholy bundle of demon cat.

Omar was anywhere between twelve and one hundred-fifty, depending on whom you asked. The problem was, Eric’s book called for all witches’ cats to be black. Now, Omar may have been young once, say back in the Dark Ages, like nineteen-sixty, but he had never been black. Though, to be honest, neither Sammie nor Eric could tell just what color Omar was. He was at one point orange with brown swirls, and at others yellow with gray streaks. Sammie contributed this to Omar’s complete revolution to water. At the first hint of rain (or in Sammie’s and Eric’s case, the water hose) Omar would shriek like a banshee and tear off toward the house like it’s tail were on fire. Sammie and Eric drew allusions to the Wicked Witch of the West even at their young age.

Still, black cat or no, Sammie held fast to her suspicion of Becca being a witch. It wasn’t the black shawl Becca always wore, even in warm weather. It wasn’t the way Becca always found a way to win at Chicken-Foot. (And what kind of person could always win at a game called Chicken-Foot, if not a witch?) It wasn’t even the fact that no one ever talked about the fate of Eric’s Uncle Phil, like it was some kind of state secret or something. (Eric was convinced that Phil was buried somewhere in the bowels of the cellar of the musty roots.)

See? He HATE cats! Ha! I change name of cat to Omar. Wonder if Short, Brown Hair Guy will notice? Doubt it. Not like he ever finish anything he start.

He supposed to write stories to make money so he can buy me more toys. He lazy. He say computer here too slow. He say he can't write here. Bah! Look at me. I write here, stoopid Short, Brown Hair Guy. You just no understand computer. He no no that I have control switch on back of box. I push button with tail and internet crash. He say bad word. I laugh.

He lazy, I tell you. He say writing hard. He say he miss entry yesterday. He almost cry, ya'll. I try not to laugh. I say stay awake more than 2 hours a day hard. You see me complain? No, you don't. He just no want to make money to buy me toys.

He try to sleep. At night! Stoopid Short, Brown Hair Guy. Night time, MY time. That when we play. That when you write! That when you make us money! TOYS!

Little silver phone make racket last night. He talk to it until after 1 in morning. I no like little silver phone. I knock it off nightstand and under bed. He say bad word. I laugh. And puke in shoe he no wear till weekend. Can't wait to see his face.

He cheet on me, ya'll. I find grey/black hair on his socks. He say Pepper have grey/black hair. I say I no fool. I say I watch CSI. I run DNA sample. I find name. Lucy(ifer), I know you out there. You stay away from Short, Brown Hair Guy. He MY Short, Brown Hair Guy. I find you hair on his sock again, I keel you. Understand?

I go now. Ophra: Behind Show on E! Must watch. Then sleep before he come back.

You no tell him I here, right? I trust you, right? Good. We have understanding.

-Sergeant (Queen) Pepper

"Your cat will never threaten your popularity by barking at three in the morning. He won't attack the mailman or eat the drapes, although he may climb the drapes to see how the room looks from the ceiling." ~Helen Powers (Ha! While you sleep, PAL!)

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

I Smell A Rat(ner)

So the new X3 trailer is out.

Many of you know how I feel about 20th Century Fox's decision to rush production on the 3rd (and final) installment of the X-Men franchise. And you how I feel about Brett Ratner.

I've been a fan of the books since I was a kid and felt that any interpretation of them on the big screen would not be able to do them justice. However, that changed when I heard that Bryan Singer was going to take the challenge. With the phenomenal Usual Suspects and a good take on King's Apt Pupil under his belt, I felt confidant that the characters I'd known throughout childhood were in good hands.

And they were. The first film was just great as a set-up for the series. Great casting and well rounded characters that you could bond with quite quickly. The second film built on the first and just kept getting better. Bigger sets, bigger effects budget, bigger production value. Everything was pointing to a wonderful franchise with potential for several future films.

And then real life set in. Singer, upset with having to wait for the green light from the Powers That Be, took a call from DC to come help breathe some life into one of their little icons. The result was that now you had two possible super hero movies coming out during the same year. However, Singer's Superman has a much longer pre-production timeframe and a much more realistic shooting schedule.

And X3 has...Brett Ratner. Now, I give the man grief. Some of it he deserves. Some of it he doesn't.

I don't know where I stand on this one. I want it to be good, but the couple of scripts I've read and most of the production stills I've seen haven't looked too promising. But, this trailer looks good. Really good. And even though I know the fate of a couple of the major characters (which I hate) and know the relationship the movie revolves around (the completely wrong direction, if you ask me) I still think a respectable director could pull this off.

This trailer looks good. Moriarty said that it reminds him of the Terminator movies, and I agree with him. This, too, is "a third film made by someone other than the person who kickstarted a franchise." Now, I'm a fan of T3, and think it fit well into the world created by Cameron. But, Mostow had the time and support to make the movie he wanted. I'm not sure how much of X3 is Ratner's and how much is the studio's. And even if a lot is Ratner's, it's still...Ratner's.



Things are going well here at Jo'T HQ. The Everwood spec-script is coming together, I'm starting some pencil break-downs for a couple of submissions, and I'm slowly converting my inner circle into Browncoats. Life is good at the moment.

Oh, and be sure to give Blondie some good thoughts today around 11. She's having shoulder surgery to remove the growth and clean up the calcium deposits and bone chips. She'll be out of commission for a week or so, but it will be mostly over Spring Break.

Thanks for stopping by. Get back to work.

-Jos

"Morality is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally dislike." ~Oscar Wilde

Monday, March 06, 2006

My Award Show Has A First Name...

And so another award season has come to pass.

I found last night's Oscars to be rather dull. No real breakthroughs or statue monopolies of Lord of the Rings fame. Jon Stewart was charming and witty, though I think he toned it way down. Which was my feel of the whole ceremony. Just no one looked to having a good time, save for Cloones. And with JJ and E pining away from both sides, it was hard to keep from wanting to smack the smirk off his handsome, handsome face.

For the most part, I'm satisfied of the results:

Supporting Actor: George Clooney - Pretty Boy came through something fierce this year with some brilliant acting and directing. Good for him to be recognized (and rewarded) for it.

Visual Effects: KING KONG - Outstanding work form my favorite Kiwis! Tika hoki, Weta!

Best Animated Feature: WALLACE & GROMIT IN THE CURSE OF THE WERE-RABBIT - Park & Box knocked another one out of the park. Good work, guys.

Supporting Actress: Rachel Weisz - Well deserved! Great performance and a gracious acceptance. I look forward to what she peruses after motherhood.

Best Actor: Philip Seymour Hoffman - A fine actor with a remarkable resume. Not exactly a chameleon in the vein of Dreyfuss or (the other) Hoffman, but a solid actor with a very wide range.

Best Actress: Reese Witherspoon - She's just so cute! Genuine and sincere. If Joaquin wasn't able to take home a statute for this movie, I'm glad the Blonde one could.

Adapted Screenplay: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN - Haven't read the short story yet (it's on my stack of paperbacks in my den, just waiting) but I loved the screenplay. The movie got a lot of attention and controversy because of the gender of the principles, but the story underneath was real and heartbreaking. Just like real life. If people could turn off their prejudices for a little while and see the spirit of the film, I think they would be able to see this for what it is: A true, modern day love story.

Best Director: Ang Lee - Thank you, Mr. Lee. Beautiful scope. Wonderful story. Great acting. And the balls to pull it off. Well done.

Best Motion Picture of the Year: CRASH - A little overrated in my opinion. A little too on the nose. Playing the racism card simply for the sake of playing it. Fine acting. Excellent cast. Good story that could have been great, but it just wasn't.

I'm upset over Bana and Munich getting snubbed this year. It really was the most powerful film I saw this season. And Cinderella Man was outstanding as well.

But, like Stewart himself said: Martin Scorsese 0 Oscars, 3 6 Mafia - 1

So, there is that.

-Jos

"I sometimes marvel at the extraordinary docility with which Americans submit to speeches." ~Adlai E. Stevenson

Friday, March 03, 2006

Feature Friday: Dark City

As I mentioned yesterday, I spend a lot of hours here at Jo'T HQ. There are many a day where it is dark when I arrive, and dark again by the time I leave. Three days this week alone, I didn't even get to break for lunch. And, as I my office has no windows, I never saw that large bright disk in the sky.

But what if it wasn't just me being inside during the day? What if there were no day? What if you couldn't remember the last time you saw the sun? And what if your memories of the past were nothing more than a scrapbook collection of the memories of a thousand other people?

Title: Dark City
Year: 1998
Director: Alex Proyas
Staring: Rufus Sewell, William Hurt, Kiefer Sutherland, Jennifer Connelly, Richard O'Brien, Ian Richardson, Bruce Spence

Welcome to the birth of John Murdoch (Sewell). He awakens in the bathtub of a rundown hotel in the bad part of town. He has no memory of how he got there, or why. All he knows is that he's naked and bleeding. Oh, and there's a dead girl in the bedroom, and he has a knife with him.

He receives a telephone call from the mysterious Dr. Daniel Schreber (Sutherland). Murdoch is informed that he being chased by "The Strangers," who, we are told via voiceover, are members of a dying, extraterrestrial race, searching for a cure of their own mortality. The Strangers feel that the key to prolonged life is imbedded within the human essence. They can alter the fabric of reality, using an extrasensory ability called 'tuning,' and traipse the nocturnal streets looking to conduct their nefarious experiments upon the sleeping city.

In Murdoch's first encounter with The Strangers, he finds that he, too, can 'tune,' leading to the death of one of his opponents. Armed with this knowledge, plus a memory of "Shell Beach," a summer vacation destination from his childhood, Murdoch tries to make his way back to the life he remembers. He believes he can do this by finding his wife, Emma (Connelly).

However, the dead girl in the hotel has been discovered, and all the evidence points to the "Street Walker Killer," whom the police now think is Murdoch. Inspector Frank Bumstead (Hurt), is assigned to track down Murdoch, and bring him to justice.

With the help of Emma, and the reluctant aid of Bumstead and Schreber, Murdoch eventually comes face to face with Mr. Hand (O'Brien), the lead Stranger who set the whole series of events in motion. But, it does not end there, as Murdoch and Bumstead discover the truth and must confront the entire race of Strangers, and their powerful leader, Mr. Book (Richardson).


I first heard about this movie when I read an article about it in the paper the day it opened. (Ah, the newspaper. Remember them? Back before we got all of our news via the web? I can't remember the last time I actually read one.) Anyway, I recalled no promotional advertising for this film at all. No trailers, no TV ads, no reviews. Nothing at all. Now, 99.9% of the time, this is the movie studio's way of disavowing any knowledge of a movie they want no part of. And, 99.9% of the time, it's well deserved.

However, Dark City is that magical .1% anomaly. Much like Murdoch himself. Rich in existentialist philosophy and a dark 40's and 50's film noir feel, with a nod to Serling, Heinlein, and even Hitchcock, Dark City actually pulls off the near impossible: A sci-fi movie with more substance underneath than on the surface. A movie that brings into focus the role of memory in shaping one's identity and the perception of reality. And it does it very well.

Director Alex Proyas, who also helped write the screenplay, really knows how to use subtext as almost another character, and how to ground the fantastical with the practical. Much like he did with The Crow, but on a much broader scale. The scope is bigger, and so is the playing field. And Proyas makes it look easy.

Rufus Sewell should be the next James Bond. He's roguish and tough. Dashing and broody. Deadly and quiet. He can convey pages of dialogue with the minimalist of expressions. Oh, and Win informed me that he is hella-cute. So, I guess that helps too. His John Murdoch is a man of mystery. But not just to the other characters in the movie. Or even to the audience. Murdoch is a mystery to himself. And Sewell uses that to his advantage. You can see him mentally questioning himself before he acts. That "is this something I would really do?" aspect you rarely see of someone playing an amnesiac character. You see him actually surprise himself. It's a treasure of a role, because you are free to go anywhere with the character. To be as over the top as you please. To literally become the person you always wanted to be, because there is no one who actually remembers the "real" you to contradict it. And Sewell does it with such aplomb, with such restraint, that he always seems natural. Very well done.

Now, I'm a big fan of William Hurt. He is one of a handful of actors who I can let go of reality and completely believe anything they tell me while on screen. He wears a level of authority and credibility around himself like a cloak. He's a actor from whom I take what they say at face value. I like the fact that his Frank Bumstead is not a finished character in the movie. He is made up of bits and pieces of the idea of what he should be. But the most astounding thing, is that Bumstead sees it himself. As the story unfolds, and he discovers his role in the scheme of things, he comes to understand himself completely for the first time. It wonderful and terrifying at the same time, realizing (and accepting) that you really are just a bit part in
the big picture. That you really are just an extra in someone else's life, with no story of your own. Hurt does an incredible job at conveying Bumstead's reaction to this, and in the hands of a lesser actor, it could have fallen flat.

And what film noir would be worth its weight in salt without a Siren? And who better for the role than Jennifer Connelly? She is quite simply one of the most beautiful women on the planet. She has an elegance and a poise that oozes sexuality and the acting chops to back up anything she's saying. Her Emma Murdoch is a torch singer in the film, and boy, does she portray that to a tee. However, she also gets to play the deceived, helpless innocent as well. The wife who has no idea who the man she married really is. Her memories, too, have been altered, reshaped, to conform to the current state of reality. But, like Bumstead, and, to some extent, even Murdoch, she is not whole. She knows she loves this man. Also, that she is afraid of him. She just doesn't know why.

Ah, Kiefer. This was back long before Jack Bauer became a household name. Back when the Kief was just starting to break out of the pigeonholed roles he created for himself, playing little, one-note characters trapped in little, one-note movies, which just happened to also star his father. Kiefer brings to Dr. Daniel Schreber a sinister edge that I'm sure the original character did not possess. Schreber is the cowardly traitor who actually thinks he's repenting for his sins. The Strangers use his expertise to rebuild the memories used in their experiments, but he had to voluntarily erase his own. Though he thinks he's doing the right thing by helping Murdoch, he fails to see that things would have turned out pretty much the same way he not intervened at all. Nor does he grasp that he is not, in fact, helping The Strangers, he is only prolonging the inevitable. Here again is a character who thinks he plays a larger role than was written for him. However, in Schreber's case, there was never a "real" person there to begin with. And because he traded his soul for his freedom, the character never gets to redeem himself, because there is nothing left to redeem. It's a juicy role, one with many layers, and one that Sutherland was born to play.

The Strangers themselves are almost the Mcguffin of the film. They are there to serve as the architects of the story, but with little more authority than the subjects they test. They are powerful, to be sure, but they have no conscience to abuse that power, because they have no conscience themselves. Before the experiments, they were merely drones, and after all is said and done, drones they still are. It's not until Mr. Hand decides to break with the experiment, and try to become this anomaly called Man, do they sense the true corruption that absolute power can bring.

Richard O'Brien brings a fresh face to an old evil, but in the end, it's the idea of Mr. Hand that is more dangerous than the character himself. Ian Richardson has some nice moments as Mr. Book, as well, especially when he keeps to the shadows and plays the overlord with his hands on the puppet strings. However, once we get into the 3rd act, it's hard to live up to the expectations of the previous 2. The Strangers had potential, but in the end, the action card was played a little too aggressively, when we may have wanted more complementation and a better sense of closure.

Regardless, this is a great movie that makes you think every time you watch it. It handles very well the concept that we are not just the sum parts of our memories. That who we are (or, who we THINK we are) is not as important as the actions we take. Am I me because of who I am, or because of who I remember myself to be? And in a sci-fi, no less…


Sorry this is coming out so late in the day, we're a little backed up here. Which is good. Much better than the alternative.

Have a great weekend. See you next time.

-Jos

"Man is the only creature that refuses to be what he is." ~Albert Camus

Thursday, March 02, 2006

In Memoriam

Things are dark and quiet here at Jo't Headquarters. Just the way I like them.

It's been a long running joke among my friends and family about the amount of hours I spend at work. So long, in fact, that it's starting to get funny again.

It's not just my unwarranted loyalty that, at times, seems to reach near mythical proportions. Nor is it the fact that my batteries need only the barest of time to recharge during the waning, nocturnal hours. It's not even that I'm a 3rd generation, stead fast, Republican Poster Child Workaholic. (Though, that answers so many questions, doesn't it?)

No, it's that my mind never turns off. It never rests. You see, whenever I'm not concentrating on a present task, or a project to fill the immediate future, that big movie theater in my head starts playing "The Jos Years: Day One thru 5 Seconds Ago." And we're talking full THX surround sound and HD quality picture here.

I remember EVERYTHING. No, really. I remember I wore a dark red and blue striped shirt with corduroys to my first day of Kindergarten. And yeah, while I may have seen pictures of that day, I can also tell you that Lori and Denise Whaley wore matching white cotton sundresses with yellow flowers on them. Lori with a blue barrette. Denise with a red one. Jason Smith wore a green polo and jeans. Foster Lott a Dallas Coyboys tee shirt. Mrs. Robertson wore a white, silk blouse with a teal scarf, and a navy skirt.

Just. Shoot. Me.

And, it's not just clothes. It's addresses. Phone numbers. Work shifts of the first job of that cousin I haven't seen in 12 years. Obscure movie quotes. Entire Shakespeare sonnets. Songs that were playing in a car passing by as I rode to school on my Huffy. (Come on, admit it. You had a Huffy. Fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy.) Jingles. TV theme songs. Dear, God! The TV theme songs. Would someone PLEASE tell me how to excavate "Green Acers" from my head!?! (JJ, "Black Hole Sun" works in the short term, but GA just keeps coming back!)

Conversations. Yeah, all those long talks that took place just sitting in the front seat outside a cafe or dinner, watching traffic through the windshield. Arguments that served no purpose other than to prove just how stupid I can be at times. Everything I said that I wish I could have taken back the moment they came out.

Everything. In a continual loop. Over and over again, ad nauseam.

Know how many times I've heard the old "Don't beat yourself up" bit? Yeah, well, if I knew how to shut it all down, I would. If I knew why I was supposed to remember that the combination to my locker in 6th grade was 34-25-7, that "Brass Monkey" was the first song to play at our 8th grade "prom", and that Luke uses his left hand to throw the rock to bring down the door to kill the Rancor in Jedi, well, maybe I could make it go away.

But should I? Would you? Isn't it our past, and how we react to that past, that makes us who we are? Who would I be if I no longer had those memories to pull from. I'm a big fan of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The story is about a man who suffers a bitter break up, and undergoes a procedure to erase the memories of the other person from his mind. However, during the process, he realizes that in order to lose the bad memories, he must also lose the good. It's quite a good story that makes you sit and think long afterwards.

I've had my share of troubles. But, I think the good times more than outweigh the bad. And even if that's not entirely accurate, at least I'm striving now to make it so.

Well, gee (No, G.T.E.). Went a little deep on you there. Sorry. I just need to vent sometimes, and this is my outlet.

But still, if I could maybe turn the memories down from 11 to...9 possibly? You know, I hear alcohol helps sometimes...

Thanks for stopping by. Get back to work.

-Jos

"It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time." ~Barbara Kingsolver

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

20/20 Hindsight, And Other Myths

So, Blondie and I were talking the other day about the current status of our lives, about how things rarely - if ever - turn out the way we plan them. We talked about how she and Pops regretted not pushing me to study harder when I was younger. How they were scared that I was so adamant about going to art school, that I refused to apply myself to anything else. How they feared I would rebel against them if they put their foot down.

About how they were afraid that if they didn't let me take that risk (something I'm not that good at) that I may never take another one.

And, I'm afraid that they were right. I have a hard time taking risks, or standing up for myself, or trying to live outside the boundaries that others have set up for me. I usually back down from every argument, form every accusation, so as to save face, or worse, to have people think better of me.

It's something that I'm constantly working on. That understanding that people will like me for me. Not for the idea of me. A radical concept, I know. But one that's taken a long time for me to embrace.

No worries, I'm getting there. I took the advice of a good friend this week, and I think things are going to get better. It just takes patience time. And what has an immortal, if not patience and time?


Today is unseasonably warm, and ushers in a new month. A month that brings with it a couple of birthdays and an anniversary I'd just as well not remember.

It's already the 3rd month of 2006, people. And I guess I'm a little behind on those new years resolutions. Well, that ends today. From here on out, I'm striving to push myself to work harder to live the life I want to live. To renew my enthusiasm on the spec-script. To break out the pencils and get some sketches and submissions ready for the April DCC. To be more aggressive about the things I want. And to accept the fact that I may not always get them.

Now all I need is some accountability...

Enjoy the record breaking 90 degree day, Dallas. Just don't get sick when it cools off and brings in the rain this weekend.

-Jos

"You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith." ~Mary Manin Morrissey