Movies & Music

"9 Songs"

Written/Directed by Michael Winterbottom

Featuring: Kieran O'Brien, Margo Stilley and some rock bands.

I was warned about this film a few years ago by a friend. At just barely an hour and six minutes, it's a mercifully short film about a love affair between a British man (Matt) and an American woman (Lisa) living in Britain. There's no back story. They just meet at a concert, and the year long tryst goes from there. There's no plot. No real story. Just a lot of sex. A lot of kink. A bit of tension.

Throughout the film, we are asked to slog through concert footage from several bands... I think I may have listened to the BRMC once or twice, but everything else here is shit. Because the couple met at a venue,  it's only to be expected that they spend a lot of time going to shows. But I have to say that this is the weakest aspect of the film. Winterbottom is expert at capturing sensuality, but not so much at capturing the feel of a live music venue.

There are also some vignettes where Matt spends some time in Antarctica, but it seems more like filler to push the film into the "feature length" category than anything to do with the relationship between him and Lisa. There is a bit where Lisa gives him a book on Antarctica, so I suppose that explains it, but it still seems random as hell to me.

I like this film because the unsimulated sex scenes are beautiful, and the chemistry between the two leads is used to great effect.

"Hoy y Mañana/Today and Tomorrow"

Written/Directed by Alejandro Chomski

Featuring: Antonella Costa

This is a nice little film from Argentina. It's a joint production with a Spanish film company. It's very raw, but also very pretty. Lots of cityscapes and vérité. Twenty-something girl struggles on her own. Her gas is cut off, then she is threatened with eviction. Her borrowing power is naught, and she has an untenable relationship with her father, who lectures her and then doesn't give her shit! So what does she do? She becomes a street-walker. Of course, there's some reluctance... fear... that sort of thing. She's got no pimp and no street smarts, so she gets ripped off a couple of times. And when she does manage a little scratch, it's stolen by a guy pretending to be a cop. She meets a Spaniard looking for a little fun away from the wife, and he's loaded. Of course, she doesn't hold up her end of any bargain with him, which leaves her with the worst kind of options: old dudes in seedy motel rooms.

The film is a low budget visual wonder. There's no candy coating the lifestyle here, unless you believe it a must that all prostitutes end up drug wracked and STD infected (I say this being an avid reader of William T. Vollmann, who is a master at capturing these things at their most ugly, most human). Costa is very endearing and relatable as Paula. And I love the theatre scenes.

***

"Option Paralysis"/The Dillinger Escape Plan

Without question, The Dillinger Escape Plan is my favorite band of the last 10 years. I have never loved a band as I have this one. Sure, I love Ornette Coleman. I love Albert Ayler and Charlie Christian, and some of that old jazz music. I think Ted Leo is a gifted songwriter. But this band just does it for me. In general, I have drifted away from their style of music, but not from them (I might indulge in a #12 tune from time to time).

From "Cleopatra's Sling" (the first song by them I heard), to "The Mullet Burden," to the entire 11 track masterpiece that is "Calculating Infinity" to "Setting Fire to Sleeping Giants" and "Mouth of Ghosts," they have proven to be a skilled, versatile band. They have a punk ethic and a virtuosic touch. They're down-to-earth guys who take their music seriously. Themselves? Not so much.

I could talk about the lineup changes, the genius of lead guitarist and founding member Ben Weinman (the only original member left),  but it's been done. I could use "Calculating Infinity" as a measuring stick to this, their fourth full-length release, but it's unnecessary. For the first time in their 13 year existence, they have released a dynamic, challenging, and extremely listenable record. I don't consider that a knock on their previous output. More, it's a comment on how they've managed to synthesize all their previous endeavors.

Here, you'll find tracks like "Chinese Whispers" and "Gold Teeth on a Bum," which seem to be a continuation and progression of the ideas and melodies found in "Milk Lizard" from '07's "Ire Works." "Widower," which is probably the most emotional song they've ever written... and includes some brilliant piano interplay between Weinman and guest musician Mike Garson (David Bowie). "Parasitic Twins," a song that, in parts, wouldn't be out of place on an A Perfect Circle record, and in other parts evokes 70's rock. The guitar solo at the end makes me think "Houses of the Holy" era Zeppelin.

And then there's this:



About 1:50 in, I was kind of expecting them to do some improv here, as it reminded me of some of their live sets, but it goes in a different direction. This is probably my favorite track on the record so far.

The most notable improvement here is the vocals. Greg has always had the dimensions. The ability (See: Spylacopa). But this is the first record where he really makes his mark, and it makes a big difference on the song writing end.

I recommend this to anyone who likes crisp musicianship, experimentation, and unpredictability. You can get it here: http://e-shop.season-of-mist.com/en/catalog/show/22675 that's the big package, but there are cheaper options if you're like me and have no money.

Scary Messican Gangsta Dude

I don't care about permissions or any of that shit. This scene is gold. The movie is even golder.

That aside, I have been considering some things. At one point I was thinking, "oh hell, I'm gonna move to Mexico, be a bullfighter (note: I almost wrote bullshitter; don't need to go to Mexico to be that!)," but then I realized that I am such a whitewashed Mexican that it'd make more sense if Patrick did that. I say, "gwakamoley." He uses the accent. I think he does it around me to be a prick. I tell him, "when you do that, it's like... your sister fucking machinations are becoming vividly clear, guero."

But whatever.

Then I thought, "hey, I'll finally sit down and write the great American novel." But I don't have the dedication or attention span for that shit. I'll settle for a cover story in the Observer. Make up some shit about being a bullfighter. Take some photos of me in a sombrero with a bottle of mezcal in my paws, taming a mechanical bull. I'll even sing the Jarabe Tapatío! Humor isn't usually their "stock-in-trade" for cover stories, but I think it'd be awesome.

I considered starting a band. I like to sing and swagger in the shower, so I figured it would translate. Well, I got in line for American Idol and had my dreams subsequently crushed. Not by Simon or or any of those other fucks, but by the people in line with me! They thought I was so awful. They couldn't even hide their contempt. Little kids were covering their ears and crying. So I flipped 'em all off, told 'em to go fuck themselves (especially the kids), and went to a bar where I drank myself stupid.

Currently I'm working on some drawings. I'll put those up soon, see what peeps think.

Re: dumpster readings, I've decided that the final reading will be downtown. They don't know it. Yet. But I will be joined by Patrick and Adam (of the Strange variety). I don't know when, but it will happen.

As the great philosopher Al Green said,

"Let's Stay Together."

Lists, I love you; I hate you; I can't live without you; it's better that you die; you complete me; you confuse me; I am a whirling dervish of passions, contradictions, and judgments!: A Decade of Bests

Lists may be the bane of the existence of many.

Recently, the contributors and readers of a website called htmlgiant have had several discussions with regards to listing and its validity or lack thereof. Lists & Polaroids / Twenty Important Translations from English to a multitude of languages / Best Movies of the Decade. Personally, my default position with regard to lists is that I hate them because I just really don't give a shit what people like. I'm not in marketing, and even if I were, simple listing would do very little in the way of mapping out demographics and such. But I usually make sure people know that I dislike lists only to segue into a list.

So, in the grand tradition of consistency (in the words of Hank Moody from Californication: "I'm a consistent motherfucker, that's why!"), Stu González and I had a drink meeting-- meaning, it was me, him, lots of paper and ink, and a handle of Highland Mist-- whereby we discussed the merits of compiling (attempting to compile) comprehensive "end of decade best and worst of" lists. We decided that we'd drink until we were legless. Whoever lasted the longest would automatically earn the right to put their "worst of" list on this blog. We fought about it, but Stu won fair and square, and instead of being the bigger man and deferring to me what I wanted, he chose to keep what he had won. As such, these entries will consist of a series of arbitrarily numbered bests/worsts from a pool of arbitrary topics: none of which were stipulated in the drinking game. The only must, is that the lists be decade specific (2000-2009).

And while it is my general position that no miscellaneous lists can be "comprehensive," I am going to make an attempt at being as thorough and concise as I can possibly be. This list will be, in a similar vein to Antosca's list for htmlgiant, the top 20 films of the last decade.

My Top 20 Films of the Decade:

20. "Fay Grim" (2006) Written and Directed by Hal Hartley/Starring: Parker Posey, Jeff Goldblum, and James Urbaniak/Hal Hartley is quite possibly my favorite filmmaker. This knowledge well-known to anyone who knows me, it is my belief that Hartley's best works came about in the 90's. This film, a sequel to Henry Fool (1997), has Hartley experimenting with camera angles, most notably, the "Dutch angle," whereby the camera is tilted slightly, adding a striking visual accompaniment to the mania of the story about a wife looking for her supposedly dead husband amidst international intrigue. Parker Posey turns in one of her best perfomances as the titular character.

19. "Time to Leave" (2005) Written and Directed by François Ozon/Starring: Melvil Poupaud, Jeanne Moreau, and Marie Rivière/Excellent, quiet little French film about a hot-shot gay photographer who discovers he has an incurable disease and chooses to tell no one but his grandmother. An interesting study into how one faces terminal illness. Solid performances and a beautiful closing shot.

18. "In Bruges" (2008) Written and Directed by Martin McDonagh/Starring Colin Farrell, Ralph Fiennes, and Brendan Gleeson/Good travel film about inept hitmen, and one the best one-liners I've heard: "You're an inanimate fucking object!". My favorite scene is the one in the restaurant where the American guy gets beat up by Farrell for being a jackass about smoking. Normally I loathe violence, but in this case it kind of made me feel good. Yeah, I'm a smoker.

17. "Dave Chappelle's Block Party" (2004/'05/'06) Written by Dave Chappelle/Directed by Michel Gondry/Starring Dave Chappelle with appearances by Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Dead Prez, The Fugees & more/This film is LOADED with exciting performances by some really great performers in hip-hop/r&b. Chappelle is charming and funny the entire way through (and you get a really good idea of what kind of guy he is in person), and it was Gondry at his most "hands-off" as a director. This film has excellent re-play value, awesome collaborative effort.

16. "Interview" (2007) Written by Steve Buscemi and Dave Schechter/Directed by Steve Buscemi/Starring Steve Buscemi and Sienna Miller/Remake of Theo Van Gogh's 2003 film is light on plot, heavy on character. I thoroughly enjoy these kinds of films, and admittedly, while I never saw the original (in honesty didn't realize it was a remake until I looked it up), I'm going to assume it took a very similar approach. Miller and Buscemi really battle one another. When two good actors can carry a movie on sheer tension, I have to give the credit where credit is due. This is a quality film.

15. "Sin noticias de Dios" or "Don't Tempt Me!" (2001/'03/'05) Written and Directed by Augustín Díaz Yanes/Starring: Penelopé Cruz, Victoria Abril, Demián Bichir, and Gael García Bernal/This one benefits from the fact that I've recently seen it, but I LOVED the creativity with which scenes set in Heaven (in French with a song in Portuguese)/Hell (in English)/Earth (in Spanish) were presented aesthetically-- especially heaven-- nouvelle vague styled (even borrowed footage from the intro to Les Quatre Cents Coups). Very tongue-in-cheek performances and treatment of the subject matter. Cruz and Abril approach sexiness from two different angles and achieve the expected results.

14. "Shaun of the Dead" (2004) Written by Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright/Directed by Edgar Wright/Starring: Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Lucy Davis, and Dylan Moran/A romantic comedy with zombies! That was one of the taglines. If there's one criticism that many level against this film, it's the acting. But I hardly think it's fair. Pegg might have been overwrought emotionally at times, but the comedic exchanges are brilliant, and as filmmakers, they demonstrate a pretty good understanding of the genre. In my mind, nothing quite matches the original Dawn of the Dead which is amazing in just about every way and to me is the measuring stick for these kinds of films (the Evil Dead series is spectacular, but not really a zombie thing).

13. "Sleuth" (2007) Written by Harold Pinter/Directed by Kenneth Branagh/Starring: Michael Caine and Jude Law/Talk about a lineup of dramatic heavyweights. This is another remake, and a formiddable one, at that. Caine is an amazing actor and Law is no slouch (one of my favorites, in fact). The fact that Branagh is helming this thing and NOT acting as well is good news. Branagh is a fine performer (especially in Shakespearean productions), but with this film, he sits back and commands killer performances without the awkwardness of having to direct oneself. Pinter wrote the screenplay, which is strange to me since he is a playwright and he didn't write the play this is based on, but he takes thin material and makes it interesting. Caine and Law constantly one-upping one another in a game of cat and mouse is fun to watch.

12. "She Hate Me" (2004) Written by Michael Genet and Spike Lee/Directed by Spike Lee/Starring: Anthony Mackie, Kerry Washington, Dania Ramirez, Woody Harrelson, and Q-Tip/I don't think many enjoy this film as much as I do. It has its flaws (the CGI sperm and the sexual montages border on awful), but I think there are segments of it that really lift it. It's not Do the Right Thing or Jungle Fever, but it's a well executed piece of cinema at the best of times. The scenes with Q-Tip and Mackie are sparkling with chemistry, the re-enactment of the Watergate scandal was clever (powerful, in fact), and the Bonasera crime family doesn't seem as tacked on the more times I watch.

11. "Nada +" or "Nada Mas" (2001) Written by Juan Carlos Cremata Malberti and Manuel Rodríguez/Directed by Juan Carlos Cremata Malberti/Starring: Thais Valdés and Nacho Lugo/Lighthearted and visually bold, Malberti's portrayal of Cuba and her people is fun and doesn't beat you over the head with a bunch of political bullshit. It's all very subtle, understated even. And not just because it HAS to be. Just when you think it's about to get deep and serious, there's colorful cartoony scenes and goofy chase scenes. All the performances are fairly over-the-top, excepting Valdés and Lugo, who are stolid and matter-of-fact in equal measure.

10. "Man, Woman, and the Wall" (2007) Written by Masashi Yamamoto based on a story by Fumihiro Yamada/Directed by Masashi Yamamoto/Starring: Sola Aoi and Keita Ono/Apparently this little Japanese film is a "less raw" kind of a type of cinema called "pink" in Japan. I can't comment more on that because I am unfamiliar with this style. Exploitative but sensual, bordering on art-house sensibility, what I like most about this film is its overall feel and approach to the subject. It never gets too menacing or deranged, and Yamamoto treats his characters with care. Admittedly, I was taken aback by the scene where Ono rummages through his beautiful neighbor's trash in efforts to experience her more. My western sensibilities say, "Oh, that's mad stalkerish," and it's actually fun to be challenged like that. The idea of obsession is one of my favorites, and the perspective is executed nicely here.

9. "Batalla en el cielo" or "Battle in Heaven" (2005) Written and Directed by Carlos Reygadas/Starring: Marcos Hernández, Berta Ruiz, and Anapola Mushkadiz/This film will always be remembered in my mind, as the movie that made my friend Robert walk out. The sex scenes made him uncomfortable as they apparently reminded him of his parents. I asked him if his parents are tubby, middle aged Mexicans. His reply: "fuck you." Yes, there is explicit sex in the film. I love the close-ups on the characters' genitalia in post-coital comedown. It's a beautiful thing. Perhaps to some it is porn, but I find it bold and beautifully done. The repitition of imagery is done seamlessly. The story itself is about an aging couple who kidnap a baby only to have it die on them soon after and the existential crisis that follows. The supposed-to-be powerful, but ultimately hollow expression of Marcos's religiosity in the end, to me, is a statement of Reygadas's disapproval of this type of insincerity in the face of reality.

8. "Pretty Persuasion" (2005) Written by Skander Halim/Directed by Marcos Siega/Starring: Evan Rachel Wood, James Woods, Jane Krakowski, Ron Livingston, and Selma Blair/As a general rule, I can't stand films about teenagers. There are exceptions, of course, and this is one of them. Wood's portrayal of a spoiled, manipulative, and intelligent teen girl is amazing. In fact, she's a bad ass. This movie is everything Juno isn't, and that's a good thing. Kimberly Joyce doesn't betray pretensions to the hip (an annoying trait of supposed indie flicks in the last decade), she's a vindictive bitch, and she's so much the better for it. She plays sides, ignores the pain of others, all while reveling in her own grandeur. The world is her orchestra, and she is the insane conductor.

7. "Requiem for a Dream" (2000) Written by Hubert Selby Jr. and Darren Aronofsky, based on Selby Jr.'s novel of the same title/Directed by Darren Aronofsky/Starring: Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto, Jennifer Connolly, and Marlon Wayans/Perhaps part of what I really love about this film is that is pisses my mother off so. She thinks it's one of the worst movies ever. I haven't been able to pinpoint the reasons because she's very vague, but it entertains me. When I told her I was writing this, she asked if this movie would be on it. "Of course," I say. "It has to be. Number seven." Visually, it's one of the best movies I've ever seen. Lots of juxtaposition: Closed vs. Open spaces. Crowded vs. Intimate shots. Bright colors. Dull colors. Grit. Beauty. The cinematography helps the story, and it's a story that frankly doesn't need a lot of help. This is a very honest film. The characters spend much time fantasizing about what they want their lives to be. I could say that they abuse drugs because the feeling delivered is the closest experience to the realization of their fantasies, and maybe that is right, but I don't know. Each time I watch it, I find myself flip-flopping about the end. "It's sad. No, it's happy. No, sad," etc. The only thing I know, is that it's one of my favorite films about drug usage. As an aside, Burstyn is endearing in this.

6. "Ghost World" (2001) Written by Daniel Clowes and Terry Zwigoff/Directed by Terry Zwigoff/Starring: Thora Birch, Scarlett Johansson, Steve Buscemi, and Brad Renfro/Daniel Clowes is my favorite graphic novelist. "Ghost World" is his "magnum opus," and for good reason. A grown man has never captured teen girls (another exception to my rule about teens) in a such an accurate light. Granted, there's some quirk in there, but that's only because Clowes himself is an eccentric. Zwigoff isn't any different. Their collaboration on this film makes sense: Zwigoff is the man behind my favorite documentary (Crumb), and Clowes's work has just been begging for cinematic representation. "Ghost World" is a series of sweeping statements on art, film, and life (especially as a teen-ager at the end of a stage in life). It's snobby, it's pretentious, but it makes several points. Maybe it's just a big "fuck you" to everyone. Its minimalism suggests that it might not be a visual wonder, but when you can get an almost passable performance from the thespian train-wreck that is Scarlett Johansson, it makes the luxury of having fully developed characters that much better.

5. "Kill Bill Vol. 1" and "Kill Bill Vol. 2" (2003/2004) Written and Directed by Quentin Tarantino/Starring: Uma Thurman, David Carradine, and a whole lot of other motherfuckers/Let it be said that Tarantino is one of my favorite auteurs. Bar none. Maybe not my number one, but this guy fucking BLEEDS cinema. I don't know if there's anyone as film literate as him. I might know someone personally who approaches this kind of knowledge, but QT is up there. He expresses his love by giving us "Kill Bill," an epic in all respects. Better than the LotR series, better than the three films that sum up the Star Wars series. Just better. Initially, I had considered putting up "Vol.2" as my number 5 because there was no way I was going to waste spots, but then I figured, fuck it, they are just not complete alone. Maybe stylistically, as they are drastically different in that department, but if you look at the story, they cannot stand alone. Thus the shared position. It's true, "Vol 2," to me, is much better, but I have my reasons. The second installation develops character, fleshes out the story, has the better dialogue, and is stylistically more to my liking (a hint: my favorite Kurosawa film is Stray Dog, which is a noir, NOT a samurai film). The most damning misstep for Vol. 1? Casting Vivica Fox. Ugh. Taken together, these two volumes are a love-letter to all that is fun and beautiful about film.

4. "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days" (2007) Written and Directed by Cristian Mungiu/Starring: Anamaria Marinca, Laura Vasiliu, and Vlad Ivanov/This is one of those films that reveal much about humanity without slapping you about the face with a "moral" or a "lesson" or some kind of judgment with regards to the humans involved. Mungiu uses the same approach with his characters that Todd Solondz does (Happiness, Storytelling, Welcome to the Dollhouse). He doesn't manipulate his audience one way or the other. He presents us with a picture of humanity. I remember while I was at college in Houston (a Catholic college), people urged me to see a film called "Bella" because it was supposed to present the audience with a "life-affirming (i.e, "pro-life") view towards abortion. But the subject is not so much about life-affirmation as it is about seeing that without a safe alternative, desperate women will go at great lengths to follow through on a decision that they have made about their own bodies. In a country where abortion is illegal, women are subject to a range of abuses. But this film shows. It doesn't tell. And it is extremely compelling.

3. "Amores Perros" (2000) Written by Guillermo Arriaga/Directed by Alejandro González Iñarritu/Starring: Gael García Bernal, Emilio Echevarría, Vanessa Bauche, and Goya Toledo/Hands down, my favorite Spanish language film. It starts out strong, and ends even stronger. There has been some discussion about the English translation of the title, which is, "Love's a Bitch." It's wholly inaccurate, but the sentiment makes sense. I can't be certain there is a literal translation. Amores=lovers, Perros=dogs. I say, "Dog lovers," but that isn't exactly accurate, either. Though dogs are very integral to the story. What really propels this film into something amazing is the acting (and the writing, which is sadly not matched in the next two films). There's not a weak spot in the whole damn thing. Echevarría steals the show as El Chivo, a hitman with an undefined past who roams the streets with his dogs. He doesn't get redemption, but he certainly is human as fuck, and that is amazing. You want to cry with him, as he calls his estranged daughter, desperately trying to reconnect in an act that is ultimately--and he knows this-- futile.

2. "The Edge of Heaven" (2007) Written and Directed by Fatih Akin/Starring: Nurgül Yeşilçay, Baki Davrak, Tuncel Kurtiz, and Hannah Schygulla/I am officially a big fan of Fatih Akin. The give away is that my top two films in the last ten years were both written and directed by him. "The Edge of Heaven" is a film ostensibly about death and how we deal with it. It's also about being an outsider. About being an outsider who loves an insider who isn't really an insider. Bottom line, Akin draws you in. You care for his characters, but only realize it when you hear yourself saying, "now what is he/she gonna do?" It's almost as if you are following around real people. They aren't extremely clever and witty. They aren't overly emotional, they aren't entirely detached, there's a perfect balance. Akin, being a German of Turkish descent, paints a picture of Turks who are trying to live their lives within the bounds of a culture that is not theirs. They don't fit in, and they don't try. Ultimately, this film will break your heart, because it doesn't end at all how your emotions want it to. Undying love is answered with denial, and you lose the character you most adore.

1. "Head-On" (2004) Written and Directed by Fatih Akin/Starring: Birol Ünel and Sibel Kekilli/When contemplating this list, I already had this film as number one. In some ways this film can be considered a package deal with The Edge of Heaven. It is the predecessor, but all the same, the themes are similar, and even the style is. Death is the caveat to life; random, inevitable. It can come from anywhere at any time. And that is a common theme. A driving one. One that serves as plot arc. So what makes this better than my number two? What sets it apart? It's a more compelling story. The characters are just that much more endearing. Kekilli is beautiful, and for me, I went from wanting simply to fuck her, to loving her character. Not literally, of course, but as a matter of the story. And Cahit (Ünel) goes from annoyance to seeming indifference, to the exact same feeling. The best part, once again, as a viewer, you are denied the ending which you desire.

My Girlfriend Experience

Girlfriend Experience (GFE) is a type of service a female prostitute offers which includes acting like a girlfriend to the client.

-- Wikipedia entry

I suppose I could've written a more sexy definition myself, but such that the dictates of my economic situation are, I can say freely that I haven't the requisite experience on the matter to do such a thing. If I could afford a sexy young thing to pose as my girlfriend-- although, it seems to me that in this film, Miss. Grey is more of an escort with a romanticized view of herself than a prostitute who offers herself as a girlfriend to the highest bidder-- I'd probably choose a more lively woman.

That's not to say that Christine (Grey), who is known as Chelsea to her clients, isn't beautiful. Sure. She is. But beyond that, Soderbergh and company have managed to take a very promising tale of a young woman actualizing herself in a world where the measure of successful actualization is-- pardon the pun-- equivalent to whoring oneself out until one is indistinguishable from all the other whores out there, and turn it into a whiny snoozer that is thankfully short.

The very fact of its brevity is a problem. There's just not much there, and one wonders if there's even a point at all except to say, "well, these people actually exist." But is that good enough? Is that worth the 1.3 Million supposedly spent? I'm not sure. As someone who wishes he could feasibly follow his dream of being a filmmaker, someone who has been sitting on a developing screenplay since he was 19, I can say that I would've loved for this film to be so much more, and I'm disappointed that it isn't.

It looks good. The premise sounds delicious. But the substance is nil. Soderbergh's film is set in modern day America. In fact, one of the themes is political and economic uncertainty. Very relevant. Very now. Christine and Chris are a couple. They live together in a swanky NYC apartment. They share very little screen time together and the two actors who portray them likewise share very little chemistry. There's a very arty, very European feel to their scenes together, but there's something amiss. The camera is almost too distant, too unobtrusive. Soderbergh (commendably but ineffectively) goes out of his way to not manipulate his audience at the expense of capturing any real performances.

It is almost unbearably minimalist. Spare to the point of wondering what the director's intent was. Was there supposed to be an ironic joke in casting an "it" girl, known for her adult film roles and risqué ad appearances, as a prostitute, and then having her do zero sex scenes (in fact rarely even nude)? Not that sex scenes were necessary, but they would've lent more action to such a catatonic film.

So Christine and Chris are a couple in NYC, somewhere in 2007/2008. America is entering a recession and there are bail-outs and debates and pissing and moaning abounds. McCain is mentioned. Obama is mentioned. Characters whine about being just a little bit poorer all while flying on private jets to Vegas and ordering $60 bottles of scotch and buying prostitutes, etc.. All of these characters (save one), are white, yuppie, and obsessed with anything short of substance.

Christine is trying to modify her website and expand her reach. She enters discussions about starting a true service. She's pulling in nice amounts of money. After all, she sits in her cozy apartment on her computer (a Mac, no doubt), writing of all her various clients-- she spares us deep observations, opting for surface descriptions and Bret Easton Ellis-like attention to product-- and spends her free time shopping and eating and just looking completely fucking dull. Why shouldn't she choose the "less work" option? Then she decides her relationship with Chris is not worth continuing because she started talking to a potential client that didn't laugh at her silly obsession with astrology (I'm not making this shit up)!

Call it a "soft arc" because her revelation is hardly dramatic or a cause for introspection or even action in/by the characters (I like this, actually-- gives it a realistic quality). In fact, it's kind of confusing because things happen so fast, and character development wasn't high on the list of any of the filmmakers' priorities. When I think about the title, I wonder: "has she really acted like a girlfriend to any of these men?" One guy patronized her services because he could, another used her as a kind ear, another used her as a way to foist upon her his kinkiness (which she rejected and was then blackballed), and another used her to not use her. Stood her up. For his family. How sweet. But she was never really a girlfriend. Not even to her boyfriend. Was that the "point?"

In the end, no one has learned anything, no one is happy, and well... we get to watch Christine give a jeweler an orgasm without even touching him sexually.

In the stream of conscience: memory & ??

"Amnesiascope" By Steve Erickson

I'm late to Steve Erickson's oeuvre. The book, with its sleek cover design (UK's Quartet Books) and curious title, beckoned to me from the shelves of Paperbacks Plus. I read a couple of paragraphs in the store and decided to give it a try.

It's not exactly sci-fi and it's not exactly speculative, but the element of a setting that differs very much from the one we exist in is enough for me to pay the appropriate amount of attention (much like the futuristic vision of London in Tony Maylam's Split Second starring Rutger Hauer-- i.e., not very futuristic at all-- just different). Particularly of note is Erickson's "post-quake" rendering of L.A.

The narrator, apparently a  literary doppelganger semi-autobiographical representation of the author himself (referred to in a correspondence as 'S'), is a man in pursuit of memory. In existential terms, one could say he is in pursuit of that which is his very essence. There is mention of his past, his loves, his losses, regrets-- no chapters, only ellipses and divisions of streams by fancy marks-- but there is no real mention (nothing detailed) of the event that set his present in motion. He works as a movie critic for an unnamed paper and is part of a supposed "cabal" of writers and editors that conspire to do... (?) and he lives in an old hotel-- transformed into something like an apartment complex-- run by a suave Palestinian "terrorist" named Abdul.

Los Angeles is a shell of its former self, seemingly populated by shady men and seductive women, the latter of which being much more intelligent than their masculine counterparts. The reason for this, what Erickson does here, is not by design so much as it is by necessity. His narrator is bright, self searching, sensual by degrees of subtlety, and cannot function without a woman in his life. Viv, the most important of these women, his lover, departs for Holland to point a "Memoryscope" toward L.A. in an effort to "balance" her project, and as a result, his life becomes more complicated and devoid of meaning. His car is stolen, the paper he works for is falling into disarray, and his "fake review" of a "fake film" called "The Death of Marat" is turning into a nightmare of very real proportions.

Some of the better moments in the book involve the narrator's cinematic endeavors. He recalls his journey from novelist to critic, and even more interestingly, appropriates a chance meeting with an interesting woman in a bar in a screenplay for a project Viv conceived called, *White Whisper. Unlike many introspective efforts about artists, Erickson's narrator is active. He doesn't lounge in perpetuity. He doesn't idly ponder or too deeply intellectualize his search for meaning. For recovery of memory, his only bastion in a world that is difficult to define. Hell, he doesn't drink to the point of incoherent ramble or consume gargantuan quantities of drugs in this search. No. He's a workhorse. He simply exists.

When the female hotel residents seek to have the already demoted Abdul removed from the premises, he inquires to the veracity of their damning claims, saying that when the truth comes out-- if in fact the allegations are true-- he will sign their petition, but until then, it's a no go. He doesn't bow to bullying or reactionary mentalities. He is, for all intents, a creature of ethics.

In Viv's absence, he is impetuous and unsure. Erickson makes it apparent. The narrator kowtows to the bar seductress's (Jasper) need for him. Something is wrong. And he caves. He goes to her secluded residence and gets sucked into a strange interrogation that refers back to an event that may or may not have happened.

"It was you in Berlin."

Hmm.

At some point there is a loss of time, and he wakes up floating in a tank flooded with water. Jasper is with him. He later gets his stolen car back and drives across the western states, eventually ending up at a film festival he was invited to... in an absurd completion to his joke taken absurdly "too far," showing The Death of Marat.

Erickson's writing is sharp, intelligent, lacking in pretension, and most importantly, funny. *The film White Whisper is a confessional film wherein women are interview by an artist while she paints them. They are nude in the interview. At some point the narrator himself is injected into a scene, nude so he can feed the artist lines. The justification for it was a beautiful display of what feminism should be. Logical and equitable.

Cinema-rama: Stuart González

Hi, Stuart here.

Patrick asked me to pick five films off the top of my head that "speak to me." Well, it's an ambiguous enough request, right? Right. And while I don't share Patrick's thoughts and opinions on film I respect his right to hold them... but seriously, man, David O. Russell is not good. Did you even WATCH I *heart* Huckabees? Whatever. "There's glass between us." I think Jude Law should've choked that bitch then and there. Anything to end that nauseating, meaningless pseudo-intellectual claptrap, that suffocating morass of zen buddhist bullshit philosophy and existentialism (still perverted by intellectual midgets the world over) (¡¡¡¡¡¡!!!!!!)...

So here are five films that I think are cool:

The Lost Boys (1987)
Mac & Me (1988)
Flatliners (1990)
The Doom Generation (1995)
SLC Punk (1998)

I must confess that this list was carefully thought out. These are, in my estimation, the best films that came out between the end of the Falklands War and 9/11. Okay... fine. Between 1987 and 2001. Why? Because he didn't ask me about established classics or anything A.T.S.S (After The Sixth Sense) A.K.A. The worst movie ever.

So. I picked The Lost Boys because it was so obviously the inspiration for the brilliant and regrettably/predictably understated Twilight series. The books. They rule. Not the movies. Those are shit. Robert Pattinson isn't that pretty. And he hates Mexicans.

I picked Mac & Me because it is a nostalgic reminder of my early childhood. Except our family was a lot poorer and McDonald's always made me puke. A lot of 80's film critics dismissed it as a poor man's ET but that's bullshit. Mac & Me did what ET failed to do: highlight the Reagan era in a positive, go AMERICA (¡!), yay capitalism (¡!) light.

I picked Flatliners because come on (¡!) it's a veritable all-star affair. Pre-24 Kiefer Sutherland, Julia Roberts before she got old, Oliver Platt (underrated actor), Kevin Bacon (the guy's in everything!), and a young Hope Davis. Anyway, this movie rocks on concept alone. Sure, perhaps it's not "scientifically sound," but who importa? Huh? ¿Quién le importa? Nadie. So shut it. It's the movies and movies is magic, man!

I picked The Doom Generation for no other reason than it was the first time I ever saw Rose McGowan on screen. So what is it? Writer/Director Gregg Araki calls it a "heterosexual film," but I think of it more as a hedonist affair with sex between consenting adults. Essentially, the film is centered on an insular, loosely defined dystopian society where everything costs $6.66 and all convenience store proprietors rock sawed-offs. Between the nubile, sexy McGowan, her dumb-ass boyfriend, and a psychotic miscreant (who fucks them both): lots of booze is consumed, many cigarettes are smoked and many enemies are made.

The dialogue is ridiculously corny and sometimes funny (whereas the shit that spews from mouths in Tank Girl is not), but the bloodshed is regular, and sex scenes take up a good half hour of the picture's 82 minute runtime (for retards, that is 1 hr 22 minutes). So it's a Clinton era classic to be sure.

The cinematography is artful and raw both at once, and the set and costume design are a great compliment. The film would almost qualify as a noir if it weren't for the lack of a real plot.

Anyway, the bonus is that 90's "indie queen" Parker Posey shows up, and if you aren't paying attention, you miss it. She brandishes a sword in one of the greatest bar scenes that don't involve drunks ever.

I picked SLC Punk because I am a punk at heart. Sure, I don't dress like it... mainly because my dad made some comments about zoot suits when he saw me in uniform, but also because it's so expensive to look punk. It's a prevailing irony. You can't be a punk on a budget, you end up getting lumped with the grunge guys.

Anyway, SLC is one of those films that really makes me laugh. You could probably say that it takes itself too seriously and completely vaporizes all the "soft-targets" of the punk subculture, but you can also say that this movie also teaches us things about Utah that we could never possibly want to know. I bet the filmmakers holed themselves in this little room: "Yeah... NYC Punk is a little obvious, though, right? I mean, it is the birthplace of the movement (if you're not a European pansy)."

So yeah. Take all these stereotypes of the punk ethos, throw them somewhere miserable and ridiculous like Salt Lake City and "bombs away!"

Laughter ensues.

Makes for a great subversive movie experience.

So fuck off if you disagree.