Pet-o-philia

I must have been about ten years when I first saw "Siskel and Ebert". At the time, they weren't called that. It was "At the Movies", and instead of their now-famous thumbs up/thumbs down reviews, they had a simple yes/no recommendation. The two had perhaps been together for a few years prior to that, in the early 70s. Their show had grown steadily in popularity, and was carried by whichever PBS affiliates wanted to carry it.

After they left PBS, it became "Siskel and Ebert At the Movies" and finally just "Siskel and Ebert". They became the two most well-known film critics in the country, even if they weren't necessarily the best critics. Ebert had won the Pulitzer Prize for his film criticism, to date, as far as I know, the only person to have received the award for film criticism (a quick Google search shows that this is untrue). Gene Siskel passed away a few years ago and now Richard Roeper is his co-host.

The success of the show had as much to do with the bickering between the two critics as anything. People often couldn't remember who was Siskel and who was Ebert. They were just known as the fat guy and the other one. The fat guy was Ebert, though since going on a Pritkin diet (not Atkins), he has shed quite a few pounds, though he looks rather sickly these days.

Hard to believe that I watched Siskel and Ebert, and now, just Ebert, have been on the air for some thirty or more years.

One of the earliest reviews I remember was that of Errol Morris's Gates of Heaven. Errol Morris is perhaps America's best documentarian, at least, Ebert would think so. He had often been overlooked for Oscars, as had such luminaries as Spike Lee, because of a penchant by the selection committee to award it to films about the Holocaust. Morris finally won best documentary for Fog of War, and Robert McNamara. Much as Michael Moore used the Oscars to lambaste the President, so too did irascible Errol Morris. Images of a quiet man making quirky films were shattered when a bitter Morris exclaimed that it was about time he had won the award.

Siskel and Ebert loved, I mean absolutely, loved, Gates of Heaven. All I knew about this film was that it was about people who reminisce about their dead pets. This turned out not to be the case. Initially, it follows several men who started up a pet cemetary near the highway, but due to funding problems, eventually had to close down, with the pets having to be dug up and moved elsewhere.

The early parts of the film are the funniest, as they contrast the desire of one man to have a pet cemetary as an alternative to having pets sent to a rendering plant, where they were to be boiled, mutilated, and used in whatever capacity they could be used. These were the so-called glue factories where animals such as horses would meet their fate. They contrast it with a man who works for the rendering plant, and how he has to avoid talking about what he does because it upsets people so much to know what was happening to dead animals.

The story then shifts to another family that also runs a pet cemetary. The patriarch looks like a balding Bill Clinton, as he talks about the pet cemetary. He has two sons. One son is a former insurance man, who believes in the power of positive thinking. Most of his comments are indeed, about positive thought, and mind over matter, and visualizing success. The other son had majored in business administration, thinking it would be easy to get a job, but finding he had to return to the family business, which turns out to be six feet under for animals. He's a hopeful musician, who likes to crank it up, and play his music up on the hill when no one's around.

The film looks older than the year 1978 when it was filmed. At times, it looks like it was filmed in the 60s. While I knew that Morris had some quirky characters in his film, what I didn't realize was how much Morris cares about spatial compositions. While he isn't exactly Hou Hsiao-hsien, he takes long shots as well as anyone. Throughout the documentary, the main arch of the cemetary is filmed from atop a hill. He ends the film with a closeup of the arch, and lingers several minutes in this last resting place of beloved pets. It's a profound moment.

The film is as much a reminder of what life was like in the 70s, from the gaudy clothing, to the son thinking positive thoughts, to the long hair hippy that's the other son. It spends time discussing the lives of these people without always focusing on the pets. The hippy son actually plays pretty well. He talks about being in love, and having a dream to make music, and you realize, even in a pet cemetary, people dream other dreams. It isn't just about providing a service to people, but sometimes, it's just a living.

The static compositions often focus on odd things. In one scene, there's a Coors can. In another, a large number of trophies. In another, a name placard carved in wood. A couple sits in front of wheat or some kind of grain. A woman sits in the couch in her house. The hippy son strums the guitar while lying in a hammock.

I suspect the resonance of this film might be even greater today because it is so much a product of its time. At the time, such ideas as positive thinking, or recycling may all seem quaint. I was also surprised at the level of vocabulary used by interviewees, from the word "kismet" to the positive thinking man's description of science, chemistry, which seems oddly funny. In the end, very much like When The Cat's Away, a French film that seems like it's about the search for a lost cat, but is as much a search for meaning, Gates of Heaven is about the love of pets, but also the business behind pet cemeteries, and the people who live there.

This film had been criticized for making fun of the people who love their pets so, especially, I would imagine, a woman who tries to get her dog to sing, and say that she loves her mama. The film is a stranger beast. While the people are indeed quirky, I don't believe Morris is really making fun of these people. Surely, the attire of the 70s didn't help the cause of the people interviewed, but they are consistently fascinating.

I suspect Gates of Heaven doesn't appeal to everyone. It doesn't have the kind of visual awe of penguins trudging through harshly cold temperatures to raise their young. It seems like it's just talking, and not to a consistent theme. It's not about how people think "pets are great", but instead about how people deal with the people who think pets are great. That level of indirection is enough to prevent the documentary from degrading into sentimental mush, and instead, become something different. It is, in its way, a kind of Rashomon film, with many different people who surround the pet cemetary business explaining what life with dead pets means to them.

Errol Morris would go on to make documentaries such as The Thin Blue Line, Fast, Cheap, and Out of Control, a documentary about Stephen Hawking, and about Fred Leuchter, also known as "Dr. Death", who tried to find more humane ways to kill people for executions, and said that there was no Holocaust, and thus became an unwitting ally for neo-Nazis everywhere.

Unlike most average documentarians who rely on voice-over (or Herzog, who makes himself a character in his own documentaries), Morris's voice is never heard (or almost never). He lets the subject do all the talking, and thus makes you do all the thinking, absorbing the meaning of it all. I don't know if he was the first to do this, but certainly, it takes quite a lot more skill to do this than to have a narrator. Imagine March of the Penguins with no dialogue, and you can begin to appreciate how much a narrator makes life easier (to be fair, Errol Morris's films clearly do have people talking, just not Morris).

I've just seen Fast, Cheap, and Out of Control and possible A Brief History of Time about Stephen Hawking. I should see that one again. However, I think Gates of Heaven ranks with his others, even as it is one of his earliest efforts. Even if I don't find the man all that pleasant, his documentaries are indeed intriguing beasts.

Good Golly, it's Mali

One of the first CDs I bought was inspired by listening to NPR. As an "elitist" radio network, it often has interesting suggestions for music. From folk music to indie rock, NPR spans the non-pop musical tastes. I bought a CD that was a collaboration between a Norwegian folk singer and two West African musicians. From that point on, I bought a lot of Afropop, including a few CDs by Ali Farka Toure.

Toure has been compared to John Lee Hooker, a bluesman that I'm unfamiliar with. Toure has often been called a Mali bluesman, even though I prefer his blues over traditional blues. His blues are suffused with local religious chants. I don't understand a word of it. Even so, I like the sound of his voice serving as another instrument.

I bought other CDs from Mali musicians, including Toumani Diabate, who plays the kora. The kora is multi-stringed instrument that sounds a bit like a harp. Diabete is considered something of a prodigy when it comes to kora playing. His father played the kora, and even played with the much older Toure.

Neither had released an album in years. Ry Cooder, who helped produce the Buena Vista Social Club, about octogenerian Cuban singers, and who has collaborated before with Toure, must have thought what a wonderful idea it must be to get these two kings of Mali music together to jam. He made the trip out to Mali, and the result is In the Heart Of the Moon.

The meshing of the two styles is a bit strange, sort of like a classical musician working with a country singer. Stranger things have happened (Yo Yo Ma has recorded albums of Appalachian music). Reportedly, they picked songs that were popular during the time of Mali independence.

I'm still working my way through this album, as I've collected a large number of CDs lately. These include:

• Iron and Wine Woman King
  
• The Cloud Room The Cloud Room
  
• The Weakerthans Left and Leaving
  
• Kronos Quartet and Asha Bhosle You've
  Stolen My Heart
  

Many of these are quite recent, meaning I just acquired them in the last day or
two. Some were suggested by NPR. Some, I just listened to at Amazon.

Ah, tis Wednesday, and it's time to watch Lost.

Getting To Know You

Perhaps the central problem facing people is the need to get along with other people. Those who have devoted their lives to science and math deal with a far more orderly world than that of man. Scientists, especially physicists, can work out the mathematics that describe the universe, and verify equations. They can believe in the importance of symmetry, and let that faith guide them in deriving the equations that govern the universe.

Yet, we have no such laws that govern human behavior. That may be a good thing. Certainly, it keeps it interesting as we try to understand how others think, and why they do the things they do. At least, I find it interesting to think about these things. I must admit, I'm no expert when it comes to understanding people, even if I have, at various times, given thought to the problem.

So it turns out that I've learned a piece of information, which I don't know is true or not, though it would partly conflict with some information that I was lead to believe. I don't want to delve into much more detail, suffice it to say that this person could have told me said information, and as of yet, has not done so.

To be fair, this person and I aren't that close. I did pay a visit recently, but usually, it's my incentive to make the visit, rather than this person's explicit invitation. That alone generally means the person doesn't want you to see them. Yet, being the person that I am, I don't always let that deter me. If they're willing to be cordial enough to greet me, then I'll be callous enough to take advantage of the situation.

This person has often been described as "very nice", which is to say the person doesn't get angry, really, is quiet, and smiles a fair bit. But other than that, something of a mystery. It's times like that, when I'm curious about someone, that I would like to invoke some turn of phrase, some words, that would be comforting, reassuring enough that a person would relax and begin to talk. Alas, my usual inclination is to yap a lot, and that's not always so encouraging.

I used to say that I'd find it more interesting to "vacation" by learning more about people. That sounds strange, so let me explain. Often, people visit a new place to gain new experiences. They want to go to Machu Pichu or Cancun or take a tour around India. This affords them experiences outside the daily doldrums of this American life. I used to think that understanding how a person sees the world, how they feel, react, think was unique enough that it was worth learning about. Some people are pretty open about themselves in that respect, others not so.

I think this person was in the second category. Nice does not equate to familiarity. Nice doesn't even necessarily mean nice. There are people who would go out and do things for you, offer a room in their house, accompany you to some event, etc. That seems far nicer than not saying mean things. I can imagine dealing with someone saying stuff that may seem hurtful or critical if they see that it helps you out. To be nice, that is, not to offend, may not always be what it's cracked up to be.

So now comes the issue. How does I broach the topic? What's a good way to talk about it? Maybe I just say I know this fact, and the person can acknowledge or deny it. That would certainly be the easiest way. This begs the question, why bother? Partly because it is something that could have been said, and yet, was not. I know it's not particularly important whether I find out or not, but it does intrigue me.

I blog about it because it makes me think that when you know someone, you often only know a small part of the story, and that even that small part is often because of what a person is willing to tell you. You, me, and everyone we know are in this puzzle of interacting with others, and dealing with others. At times, we are simply not going to care about the other person. They are either unintersting to us, or so far removed in their worldview from ours that reaching common ground can be quite difficult. But even for those people where common ground can be reached, there are barriers. Occasionally, I try to cross one of them, to see what there is to see.

D'oh! Nuts!

When I was young, it never occurred to me that I would eat something sweet for breakfast. OK, technically, many cereals are sweet, but I wouldn't think of eating ice cream for breakfast. To be fair, as kids, we didn't have the most conventional breakfasts. Dad would prepare eggs with tomatoes, which was actually pretty good, but then also generic brand chicken soup with hot dogs. I was so used to eating that that I didn't think it was odd until we had guests over who commented how weird it was to have hot dogs for breakfast (but then, some folks like steaks for breakfast, so it shouldn't be that odd).

When I went to college, one of my roommates used to eat Entermann doughnuts for breakfast. I thought that was peculiar. But ever since I've been in grad school, and more in particular, lived close to a Dunkin Donuts, the idea of donuts for breakfast doesn't strike me as unusual. I'd get their breakfast combo---two doughnuts and a medium coffee. The coffee isn't great. It's a bit too sweet (to be fair, I ask for sugar).

This made me think about doughnuts. You see, I don't really really like most doughnuts. Most people who care about doughnuts seem to prefer Krispy Kreme. Krispy Kreme signature doughnuts are glazed with sugar. There's something about sticky sweet doughnuts made fresh that appeals to many. I find them slimy messes. The funny thing is that the doughnuts I enjoy most are the ones sold at Shopper's. They're oversized, and unglazed.

Dave tells me that what I really want is super soft bagels, and that's true. I don't really want the sugary syrup glaze crap on my doughnuts. I want it soft, doughy, with a bit of chocolate.

This made me think of other food products where there's no real pinnacle. For example, ice cream cones. I used to like the plain cones that Dairy Queen would serve it. The sugar cones always seemed kinda burnt tasting to me. Still, lately, I've been getting sugar cones because the other kind is bland, but really, neither cone is all that good.

There are lots of other foods that don't seem to have any outstanding examples. Macaroni and cheese. Spaghetti sauce. Tacos. But mostly, I'd point to doughnuts and ice cream cones.

Given how much care people put in other food items, such as wine, beer, pizza, it's amazing how many other items are pretty ordinary. I've just had a double chocolate doughnut. It was pretty good. I'll just have to live with pretty good.

D'oh! Nuts!

When I was young, it never occurred to me that I would eat something sweet for breakfast. OK, technically, many cereals are sweet, but I wouldn't think of eating ice cream for breakfast. To be fair, as kids, we didn't have the most conventional breakfasts. Dad would prepare eggs with tomatoes, which was actually pretty good, but then also generic brand chicken soup with hot dogs. I was so used to eating that that I didn't think it was odd until we had guests over who commented how weird it was to have hot dogs for breakfast (but then, some folks like steaks for breakfast, so it shouldn't be that odd).

When I went to college, one of my roommates used to eat Entermann doughnuts for breakfast. I thought that was peculiar. But ever since I've been in grad school, and more in particular, lived close to a Dunkin Donuts, the idea of donuts for breakfast doesn't strike me as unusual. I'd get their breakfast combo---two doughnuts and a medium coffee. The coffee isn't great. It's a bit too sweet (to be fair, I ask for sugar).

This made me think about doughnuts. You see, I don't really really like most doughnuts. Most people who care about doughnuts seem to prefer Krispy Kreme. Krispy Kreme signature doughnuts are glazed with sugar. There's something about sticky sweet doughnuts made fresh that appeals to many. I find them slimy messes. The funny thing is that the doughnuts I enjoy most are the ones sold at Shopper's. They're oversized, and unglazed.

Dave tells me that what I really want is super soft bagels, and that's true. I don't really want the sugary syrup glaze crap on my doughnuts. I want it soft, doughy, with a bit of chocolate.

This made me think of other food products where there's no real pinnacle. For example, ice cream cones. I used to like the plain cones that Dairy Queen would serve it. The sugar cones always seemed kinda burnt tasting to me. Still, lately, I've been getting sugar cones because the other kind is bland, but really, neither cone is all that good.

There are lots of other foods that don't seem to have any outstanding examples. Macaroni and cheese. Spaghetti sauce. Tacos. But mostly, I'd point to doughnuts and ice cream cones.

Given how much care people put in other food items, such as wine, beer, pizza, it's amazing how many other items are pretty ordinary. I've just had a double chocolate doughnut. It was pretty good. I'll just have to live with pretty good.

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

Popular culture has a problem with genius. It treats it as abnormal (and it is) and that it taps into information that man was not meant to know (jury is up for debate). Thus, in the quest for knowledge, we are doomed to madness.

This is clearly what happens in Darren Aronofsky's precocious debut, Pi, where the knowledge of some number, involved with some mysticism on the nature of God, ultimately leads the lead character to madness, and only when he forsakes such knowledge does he finally come to know happiness.

Even though Star Trek inspired a generation's worth of American scientists and engineers, it was guilty of portraying genius as isolating and maddening. In the original series episode, The Ultimate Computer, Richard Daystrom is portrayed as a genius at developing intelligent computers. His accomplishments made him the boy wonder, and yet he spent the rest of his life trying to recapture that glory, and in the process went to madness.

The Next Generation was just as guilty. In a Season 7 episode, Serova is the genius who discovers that warp drive is creating tears in the universe. To be fair, her brother is a collaborator, but the episode makes clear that she has done the majority of the work.

In the second season episode Schizoid Man, Ira Graves, who was said to have taught Noonian Soong, Data's creator, transfers his intelligence into Data, to avoid his mind dying as his body does.

Genius is often protrayed as isolating and potentially maddening. Geniuses often lack social skills, being irritable and irrational, although occasionally, there is the protrayal of the absent-minded professor.

In Good Will Hunting, Matt Damon plays Will Hunting, a Southie (a section of Boston not noted for its mathematicians) who is a math genius, despite no one recognizing him as such (until very late), and doing little on-screen math. He gets to work at a construction site, and do janitorial work while at MIT.

Part of the film's debate is embodied by Robin Williams whose character, Sean Maguire, did not pursue his genius fully, while Stellan Skarsgård's Gerald Lambeau did, and they represent the two sides of Will Hunting, who is trying to decide whether he should pursue his math genius or pursue a girl (or both or neither). Will Hunting argues to Maguire, who serves as his psychiatrist, that being a construction worker is just as noble as being a mathematician, and there is nothing wrong with it. Maguire agrees, but points out that it is Hunting who has managed to get jobs that get him to MIT to work on problems.

He should have pointed out another form of precociousness that people rarely question. The film, being set in Boston, talks about a historic Red Sox game from the 70s (in principle, before Hunting was born). They both talked excitedly about this game. Williams' character should have asked Hunting if he had superior baseball talent, would he give that up to be a construction worker. Where the answer (to a sports fan) would be an unqualified yes, the answer is more ambiguous for a math career.

Indeed, athletic prowess does not have a similar madness, and that's because we see athletic prowess all the time. Is Barry Bonds going mad? He might be juiced, but no one suggests that trying to be the best athlete you can be is wrong (even if, in reality, due to the amount of money involved and the machismo of sports, many athletes live with pain all their lives, that the rest of us never have to deal with).

Proof is the film adaptation of a play where a mathematician, played by Anthony Hopkins, has gone crazy. Possibly modelled after John Nash who became a schizophrenic, Robert (Hopkins) has long since been unable to do real math. Alas, the film still needs him to be a professor and have students, so that Catherine, who is Robert's daughter, can have a love interest.

Perhaps due to its play heritage, there are very few characters in the film. It boils down to Hopkins, playing the father, Paltrow, the daughter who has taken care of him since his descent into madness, Hope Davis, looking every bit like Hillary Clinton, playing the other sister who left Chicago for New York, for her career, while not caring for her dad, and Gyllenhaal, the love interest.

While everyone does a superb job of acting, Gyllenhaal's character is fairly thin, and Hope Davis's only a bit better. This is really Paltrow's movie as she wrestles with whether she will become like her dad. The mystery set into place, whether she, or her father, wrote a critical proof, is somewhat artificial, but since it was a play, it's somewhat thought out, as a daughter who loves her father, wants to do him proud, and yet, also wants to believe that he can still be successful. She has mixed feelings about taking care of her father, and in fact, so much time is spent there that it's not spent on whether she can do math or not.

In other words, while Proof makes a good drama, and even begins to capture some of the elements of college life, it doesn't say a great deal about mathematics, nor the pursuit of math. To its credit, it almost doesn't make note of the fact that a woman could be great in math, except in one brief line about Sophie Germain. Gyllenhaal never says "if this proof is really yours, you will be the best known female mathematician ever".

The story is rather non-linear, floating back and forth between when Robert is alive and when he's dead.

While I can admire the acting, and even the lack of obvious stereotyping (except the madness bit) for all but perhaps Hope Davis's character, I wish the math was played up more, or at least, the mathematical mindset. Critics probably don't notice since many are not mathematicians. However, many are writers. Roger Ebert criticized the film Finding Forrester for Sean Connery's blah advice about writing, though presumably the advice was better in Wonder Boys.

As with many such stories, the outside world is generally shut out. This, we really have four characters, rather than many other minor characters that would probably serve a more important role in the lives of these characters. And of course, we're supposed to believe that impossibly gorgeous Paltrow and Gyllenhaal are nerds. Hollywood's not quite prepared to have people who are, by Hollywood standards, ugly, especially women, to play these roles. Even so, they do the best they can given the actors they have to make them somewhat less than glamorous, though, c'mon, Gyllenhaal's day old beard is still way too trim for real grad students.

Musical Musings

A friend and I were planning to watch Sufjan Stevens at the 9:30 Club this upcoming Tuesday. Those plans were nixed when my friend discovered the show was sold out. Sufjan, apparently, as become a superstar. Of course, he's not a superstar, and yet, he is. While the average music listener will not know him from the next person, because he's not nearly as pop as, oh, Ricky Martin, or JLo, or some other modern equivalent, he is starting to become very popular among those listening to indie music, such as college radio stations.

What's peculiar is that his music is best described as folk music, even though this isn't generally the kind of music that indie types like, who may favor the Brit sounds of Radiohead and their imitators, or punk bands, or certain kinds of rap and techno. Even more unusual is that Sufjan has released two albums with religious references: Seven Swans and A Sun Came.

The second title shows the kind of mind at work, as it can be interpreted several ways. A Sun Came doesn't make so much sense as A Son Came, in that respect, the son of God. And yet, people also worshipped the sun, and so there is a tie to a more primitive (though perhaps no less valid) kind of worship, and then there is the notion of a sunrise as the start of a new day, a kind of rebirth (again, tying back to Christian imagery). And finally, there's the mischevious interpretation, of the word "came". One would imagine all those meanings flitted through Sufjan's mind, and thus, there's a kind of wee bit too precious sense of the title.

It turns out Sufjan's background is somewhat more complicated. Sufjan isn't, say, Rufus Wainwright, whose father (and mother, I think) was a folk musician. There's no indication that folk music is where Sufjan would head to, and in fact, he had been in a rock band. His album Enjoy Your Rabbit is filled with experimental songs on synthesizers, and sounds like nothing else Sufjan has written, but goes to show the extent of music he's interested in.

Sufjan comes across as both earnest and elusive in his interviews. At times, he seems shy and reserved. You never hear him too enthusiastic when he talks. He sounds a little out of it, although he tells amusing stories, such as the one that was inspired by an ex-girlfriend whose clothing tastes were less than inspired, except possibly in its 80s awfulness. He learned the lesson of telling a girl she looks pretty instead of being truthful. (Which, to be fair, is an awful lesson and goes to show how often women place their self-worth on how they look, rather than who they are).

I saw some photos from a recent tour where he was promoting Bring on the Illinoise, his second 50-state album about the state of Illinois. He stages a pep rally, which cheerleaders, pom-pons, and the like. It's difficult to say whether he's paying homage to small-town living, or whether he's making fun of it. At times, he comes across like a red state guy, with flags-a-wavin. At other times, it seems like he's not entirely serious, treating the whole thing like a Halloween party (dress up and have fun, but not really believe that pep rallies were, you know, a good thing).

I'm not sure Sufjan fans are nearly as cynical as I am about him, even though despite this outlook, I find him fascinating, like there's something stirring in his brain that he finds amusing, and he goes and does this or that. I've seen some criticism that says he's pretentious, though pretension is in the eye of the beholder. It's all about criticizing folks who think big. Did Sufjan think big so he could get attention? I'm sure that's part of it.

I'd guess that part of Sufjan thinks that this whole 50-state thing is a bit of a lark. Just calculating how long it would take him to complete the songs, and whether he could produce 50 good albums is almost laughable. And yet, Sufjan is extremely prolific, throwing away many songs that never see light of day. He could probably release five so-so albums right now. And yet, he must realize that if he makes significant progress, it will be one of those huge works that people will talk about forever.

And that creates a dilemma. How egotistical is Sufjan? Most of us are taught to be modest (although, some, like boxers, are taught otherwise). Listening to interviews, he does come across as being modest, and yet, it contrasts with this project. I think Sufjan wrestles with this a lot. On the one hand, fame and the money that comes with it will allow him to pursue whatever artistic endeavor he wants, and that in itself is one reason to forge on ahead, at least, in the near term. On the other, he must occasionally think this is folly, that he's told people he wants to do this project because people will write about it.

I can't say I know the truth, since I just glean what I can from online interviews. Certainly, he hasn't minded the publicity, as he gives interviews. Still, like most interviews, you probably aren't seeing the "real" Sufjan. In one song, he says he's "made a lot of mistakes", which I suspect he feels he has, and yet, I wonder, what were those mistakes? What kind of crisis of doubt did he come across, and is this just another one of those things anguished artists say because it makes them all dark and introspective.

Despite the negativity, I really like a lot of Sufjan's songs. If this project seems like the act of some egomaniac, he certainly doesn't sound like one, except possibly in the elaborate titles of some songs. The music is spare, and yet quite listenable.

From searching for information about Sufjan (whose life, pre fame, seems to be completely undocumented by the web), I discovered an NPR segment about the ivory-billed woodpecker. I also discovered that NPR does a "best of" music, each year. People think of NPR as some elitist kind of radio station, that it seems hard to believe that they would be arbiters of good taste in indie music, and yet, if you want to here some good stuff, you could do worse than head to NPR to get some music suggestions.

For example, I just heard about Jorane. Her album cover looks like female Wolverine. Her French-Canadian background makes me think Celine Dion, and yet, she plays the cello and sings along, and Celine Dion, it is not. Have a listen
here. (You have to visit the link, and scroll down about half way). Also listen to Doug Hoekstra, who also has a kind of country-folk background, and yet his song Diminishing Returns doesn't sound like what you'd call conventional country-folk, from its economic-inspired title, to its Doors like organ sound, to its somewhat hokey, yet story-like lyrics, it's intriguing stuff.

The series All Song Considered is a good way to expose yourself to all sorts of music. To me, this is the equivalent of watching independent films a la Jim Jarmusch, except music is so much broader in its appeal than movies. For example, there are those into the hip-hop musical scene, who'd never listen to, say, Sufjan. And yet, indie music fans seem perfectly willing to embrace music from everywhere, provided it's not too obviously pop, and aimed at the teeny bopper scene.

I'm now listening to Sigur Ros, from their performance at the Strathmore Center in North Bethesda. Alas, they were performing on the day our company had a picnic (Sept 11!), so I completely missed that, not realizing they were even in the area that day.

Someone remind me not to make too many ponderings at 3 AM. I'll have to rely on listening to Sufjan on CD rather than live. Ah well.

A Lesson In Democracy

When I was teaching, and even for some period after that, I would drop by and talk to the secretaries in our department. I know, I know, you're not supposed to call them secretaries any more. They're now called admistrative aides. And even among such aides, there's a great deal of diversity in the amount of adminstrating that can be done.

So, I'm talking to one of the administrative aides, and she says something about "we live in a democracy, and democracy rules". I pointed out that, in fact, there are many cases where democracy doesn't rule, and where we're better off because of it. At one point, women didn't have the right to vote, and neither did African Americans. The Bill of Rights protects individuals, regardless of prevailing popular opinion.

But I failed to bring up other simple examples where democracy definitely doesn't rule. How many people would want more than two weeks of vacation? If we could vote to have four weeks of vacation, would not democracy rule and companies be forced to give us what we want? It is our right! Heck, four weeks, let's take the whole year off! Of course, this begs the question. If everyone didn't have to work, how would we get any basic services? We wouldn't. Still, would it really be so bad to have a month of vacation right off the bat?

This brings me to my complaint, my rant of the day, where I wish democracy would solve my problems. I am talking about purchasing CDs. Ah, compact discs, you are the bane of my existence. Who ever thought to wrap this in plastic so tight, that you need scissors to open it? I suppose the problem with making it easy to open is that people will be tempted to, well, open it. Tough packages make it tougher to want to open it.

But come on, this is Amazon. They aren't selling the CDs to a store where individuals might accidentally or curiously open the wrapping. I should not have to deal with such infuriating packaging.

But, no, it gets worse. Even after you open the package, there's a seal at the top, that's made of the flimsiest tape ever. As you try to open it, this tape-like substance easily shreds, unless you're extremely nimble. Why, oh why, is that layer of protection needed? And if it's needed, why is it made so flimsy?

I understand the quaintness of purchasing music. Were I some clever boy, I'm sure I could find some way to get music like this for free. Yet, I either hold the sanctity of purchasing items the "legal" way very highly, or I am stupid. I think it's both. CDs are expensive, and it's too bad they are. Honestly, if they charged, say five dollars a CD, I think people might actually buy far more the legal way, then spend the $10 to $15 or more that they cost.

And I understand that democracy won't solve my problem. We can't vote on everything, otherwise draconian companies would go out of business. Companies seek to protect their own interests, and despite the fact they're run by people, these people decree that other people should have to suffer so their interests as a company aren't usurped.

I'd like to go on about how gerrymandering is this awful, awful, highly non-democrati c idea that should be abolished post-haste. I suspect a court, like the Supreme Court, would have to make this so. Yet, we live with a system that allows a handful of officials to draw county lines willy nilly, to create thinly veiled "majorities" which are nothing of the kind, thus making our votes worth less. People say "one man (or human), one vote" are fooling themselves. Not all votes are created equal.

Anyway, back to listening to a CD I finally managed to liberate from its package. I'd like to find a WMD to open it next time, and declare a jihad on the manufacturers of this infernal package.

From the Depths of Despair

There's nothing quite like watching sports. On the one hand, it is merely a game. Non sports-fans look at a game like football and can barely track who has the ball, and wonder what excitement there must be in watching grown men wearing pads and helmets running around. What fun can there be in this? And, really, they're right. It is just a game.

But somehow, sports crystallize something so fundementally simple, something so primal, that it appeals to the most basic emotions beyond the obvious need for food, which is joy and disappointment. In sports, fans invest a great deal of emotion in their team. With every success, the fans are elated beyond belief. With every loss, the fans are inconsolable. And it gets worse if there's a series of losses.

This was year two of the second coming of Joe Gibbs, and after a mediocre 6-10 record last year due to an anemic offense, Gibbs had worked hard at revamping the offense, trying to find ways to add the deep ball, using the shotgun for the first time since, well, a very long time ago.

Already controversy swirled. Barely three series into the game, Ramsey, Gibbs's anointed quarterback, but one who he never quite trusted, was yanked, when he got injured. Brunell filled in, and even when Ramsey declared himself ready to return, he was told Brunell was the starter.

For three and a half quarters, the faith Gibbs had put in Brunell was beginning to look doubtful. Dallas was shutting out the Redskins, something that had never happened to Gibbs as a Redskins coach (during the regular season). After a botched field goal, Dallas was up 3-0, then 10-0 on a flea flicker, then 13-0. The defense was preventing this from being a blowout, keeping it within grasp, but with 5 minutes left, the Redskins had showed nothing that showed they could even score a single point.

Announcers Sam Huff just wanted one touchdown, something to give a little hope, and time was running out.

And then there was 3rd and 27. Who knew Brunell still had legs as he scampered 25 yards. Then, a fourth and 2. And boom, it was 13-7. Yet, with only three minutes left, the defense needed to hold stout. Throughout the years of offensive woes, the Redskins, much like the Ravens could always rely on their defense, and now they had to rely on them. Energized after a Santana Moss touchdown, the defense gave the ball back to the Redskins.

Then, they went for it all. A 70 yard touchdown pass, again to Santana, splitting two defenders, and trotting in for the 14-13 touchdown. Yet, again the defense had to keep the Redskins in. After all, Dallas only needed 3 points to win the game. And again, the defense came through.

And Redskins cheered. And it was good.

14 of 15 losses to Dallas will do that to you. Like any rabid sports fans, Redskins were desperate to beat Dallas. And, let's face it, it was Dallas. Once a rivalry where the teams would split wins, when both were good, since then, Dallas had a domination of the Redskins over many a coach. Snyder, a Redskins fan since he was a youth, had to lament the sad state of affairs.

His enthusiasm after the first touchdown was palpable. And after the second one, there was complete ecstasy. He wanted Gibbs back, had put his faith in Gibbs, and yet it was looking like Spurrier 2, not Gibbs 2.

In a series of improbably completions, Brunell went from goat to hero. And for the first time in a long time, the Redskins can go into a bye-week(!) 2-0, thinking good thoughts, with Redskins fans everywhere in pure elation.

So it comes down to placing your faith into the outcome of a game, to have a team represent your happiness and your despair, it seems silly, but how much in life can be boiled down to something so simple, and futhermore, it's so communal. Look left, right, and down the aisle, and you see tens of thousands of fans, and when you add those watching in sports bars, and at their friends house, and in dorm rooms, the number of people number in the hundreds of thousands or millions of fans who care how this team does.

There's nothing like a win to cheer someone up, and nothing like a come from behind win. Sure, it's not the Red Sox years of despair, down 3-0 to the hated Yankees, deep in the 12th inning requiring a home run from Dave Ortiz. And, then down 3-1, another late inning home run, and then down 3-2, pulling out yet another win, and then tied 3-3, finally winning an easy game.

There's nothing so deliciously sublime as wanting something so badly, especially when time and again, you've been let down, been disappointed by a late Aaron Boone home run when his brother is in the booth announcing, or a last minute Patrick Crayton touchdown last time the Redskins were at Dallas snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, letting Dallas celebrate a 13-10 win when a Redskins win seemed all but assured.

And so, when the last seconds ticked off, and Redskins had won, and won over a team that had dogged them time and again, even modest Gibbs had to relish the joy that comes from despair, a kind of payback for all the months of wanting success, and to have it come to fruition in the waning moments of a game where even the faithful begin to doubt, there is nothing more satisfying.

Upcoming Movies

Here are a few more films that are upcoming, that I may want to watch.

A History of Violence. Normally, this kind of film might not interest me. The trailer seems to suggest that Viggo Mortensen plays a small town hero who averts a holdup at his shop by killing the holdup man may have a mysterious history he's running from. What's intriguing is the director: David Cronenberg, who's directed films like The Fly, eXistenz, and other films that have to do with relationships with one's body, in non-standard means. This seems like an attempt to become a little more mainstream.

Capote The amazing Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Truman Capote, during the period he wrote In Cold Blood, about a serial killer. I'd really only ever seen Capote in the comedy Murder By Death. He's frequently imitated because of his distinctive voice, so it takes quite an actor to avoid sounding too silly doing Capote. The amazing Chris Cooper co-stars.

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada Tommy Lee Jones stars in this film. Along with David Strathairn, he's being touted for best actor awards once award season kicks in.

Caché I really need to catch up with Michael Haneke, the Austrian director, who directed Funny Games in which kidnappers talk to the audience making them complicit in the enjoyment of the torture of an innocent family. Apparently, there's a whopper of a stunning scene in this filming starring two of France's leading actors: Juliette Binoche and Daniel Auteuil. I tend to get Haneke confused with Francois Ozon. Probably since both are French, and I haven't seen movies by either one.

Thumbsucker This should come out fairly soon. About a kid whose parents are messed up, and resorts to sucking his thumb. If Tilda Swinton were your mom, and Keanu Reeves were your dentist, you might too.

Munich Steven Spielberg directs this film about the tracking of the Palestinian terrorists who killed Israeli athletes in the 1972 Munich Olympics.

Where The Truth Lies The latest by Atom Egoyan, starring Kevin Bacon and Colin Firth. A scene involving a threesome has caused this film to be rated NC-17, even under appeal. It's to be released unrated to avoid the stigma that NC-17 films have (theaters won't show films rated NC-17). Egoyan is baffled why, since there's no reason given for why a rating is given.

A Scanner Darkly Richard Linklater does Philip K. Dick. Done in the style of Waking Life using a technique somewhat like rotoscoping. Stars Keanu Reeves, Woody Harrelson, and Winona Ryder.

The Wayward Cloud Tsai Ming-Liang's latest. It will probably take a while before this is released in the US. I'd expect a year or so.

Bloggin Blues

Let's catch up on the weekend. The Terps faced the Mountaineers yesterday at College Park. When Friedgen first started coaching at Maryland, he started off unexpectedly well. He won ten games and the Terps went to a bowl game for the first time in a long, long time. Usually, it doesn't take much more a winning season for a team from a big conference like the ACC to make it to a bowl game. There are tons of bowl games. People even kid that there should be a Toilet Bowl. But the Terps couldn't manage that before Friedgen.

In 2001, like the Terps, the Mountaineers also had a new coach, Rich Rodriguez. Like Friedgen, Rodriguez was an alum for the football team he coached. Rodriguez had little luck against Friedgen the first three years, with his teams losing four times. Each year, Maryland plays West Virginia even though Maryland is in the ACC and West Virginia is in the Big East. It's a tradition that goes back many years. For the most part, they played even, and if anything, WVU might have had a better record.

Last year, WVU won a close game against the Terps, the first time Rodriguez's team had ever beaten the Terps. Last year was a year Friedgen would soon forget. The Terps failed to make it to a bowl game for the first time since Friedgen's arrival. This year, Friedgen had won a tight game against Navy. In most years, a game against Navy would be a blowout for Maryland.

However, Navy's gotten a lot better. Not really enough to compete against the big boys, which is why they weakened their schedule, so they wouldn't have to play the likes of Notre Dame all time (they still play Navy, but the rest of the schedule is weaker). Unlike Maryland, Navy had a winning record, 10-2, and won a bowl game. Still, Navy gave fits for Maryland, before the Terps eked out a win.

The Terps lost last week to Clemson in a game I attended. They hoped to win against Clemson, a team the Terps had good luck against in the past. With a 24-14 lead into the fourth quarter, it looked like a 2-0 start. But no. The Terps allowed Clemson to score two touchdowns to take a 28-24 lead, and could not score another point.

This week, the Terps faced WVU. It was a pretty tight game in the first half. West Virginia was up only 7-3, as the defenses clamped down. It was 7-6 at the end of the third quarter. Then, the game just blew up. Two touchdowns, and WVU was up 21-6. Two more touchdowns, and the Terps caught up at 21-19 (they went for a two point conversion on the second touchdown, to tie, and failed to convert). The Terps were elated, only down less than a field goal. Then, another touchdown and a field goal, and the Mountaineers won 31-19. The Terps gave up 24 points in the fourth quarter, leading to another fourth quarter meltdown by the defense. In the first three years, Friedgen, noted for his offensive genius, had a decently good defense. Indeed, his first year, the defense really shone. Every year since then, he's had decently good defenses. This year, not the case.

It's going to be tough the rest of the season. The Terps face four more ranked teams, and will need to win 6 games. This means they must beat at least one of these ranked teams, with Virginia being the best chance. Playing Virginia Tech, Florida State, and Boston College will be quite daunting.

I followed this game the modern way. I watched it on the Internet. Which is to say, I read the scores every once in a while. They're not yet televising football games on the Internet, at least, not legally, not through ESPN. Broadband isn't quite here yet, at least, at TV qualities.

Today, I went to watch 2046. This film is typical Wong Kar-Wai. If you don't care for his films, this is not a film you're likely to enjoy. Here's why. Wong Kar-Wai is not so interested in telling a simple story that has a clear beginning, middle, and end. Real life doesn't resemble stories, even as we like stories. Real life, instead, is about a series of events, that happen over time.

Wong Kar-wai's characters inhabit a constrained universe. Tony Leung reprises the role of Chow Mo Wan, which he played in In The Mood For Love. That film told the story of a man and woman, whose respective spouses are cheating on them. They imagine what circumstances must have brought the unfaithful spouses together, reenacting meetings and words, trying to make sense of what's going on. The film spans a period of thirty years or more, as events unfold in their lives, yet, it never quite leads to a story unfolding, but instead, to their complex relationship.

In 2046, Chow, who was the reluctant lover in In The Mood, is now a lothario, seemingly able to bed any women he chooses. And what choices he has. The list of women--Maggie Cheung, Faye Wong, Zhang Ziyi, Gong Li, and even Carina Lau---read like a who's who of Chinese actresses. If he's somewhat noble in In The Mood, he's anything but in 2046.

Here, he plays a writer who writes fiction for a newspaper, about life in the future in the year 2046, which is actually more a location than a year. It is some kind of hotel or place where memories stay around. It's as intriguing a science fiction idea as has come along in a while, at least in film.

SF is about presenting a world that doesn't exist now. Films like Star Trek and Star Wars are really not true science fiction, since they don't deal with the philosophical issues that SF often deals with. Only the first of the Star Trek films, directed by the late Robert Wise, has some issues that resemble science fiction. There, the NASA probe V'ger (really Voyager) has gained super intelligence by acquiring civilizations on its journey back to Earth to see and join with the Creator. It deals with intelligence, the desire to know one's creator, science, and religion. It's certainly the most heady of the Star Trek films, trying to emulate 2001 more than the television series.

If 2046, the location, the hotel, is all about places where memories never die, then 2046, set in the 60s is about people who are trying to form relationships, but previous memories get in the way. Anytime Chow seems to connect with the women he meets, they make demands he's unwilling to fulfill. He pines for a woman that's long since gone from his past.

If the film's frustrating, it's because the future story is not entirely enlightening. It has the exotic look of a 2001 future, if not its emotional reserve (well, there is some of that, too). Yet, its relation to the present is murky. I had thought, an hour before the film would end, that it would end at a point where Chow tells a woman he's been with to call a boyfriend, and he realizes that it makes her happy, and I thought, well, that's a good point to end the film. He decides he's been shallow this entire time, and he decides to be good.

Oh, but, no. That would be a little too pat. Wong Kar-wai isn't that optimistic. And the film goes on what feels like another hour.

At the very least, with a Wong Kar-wai film, you're treated to a visual feast of colors, and adult relationships, which are in rare supply in other Hong Kong films (see anything with Jackie Chan, or even John Woo). Wong had at least three cinematographers for this film, including Christopher Doyle, who has given his film its distinctive look.

WKW is more about characters and situations and not really about plot. To that end, his films resembles New Wave films where from time to time, you absolutely have no idea what's going to happen next. For WKW, it's not about that, in any case. It's about the evolving relationships, of people moving from country to country, and the lack of fulfillment in these relationships, even as they try.

Tonight, I decided to come into work, but I wanted to get some exercise. We have a small exercise room in the basement of the building. I was planning to buy some kind of shorts for the exercise bike, since I felt work clothes weren't really adequate, but realized I had no idea what I should get. I also wanted to get something to read, so I bought a book by Brian Greene, who's a physicist. This one's title The Fabric Of The Universe.

I've only read a few pages of the book, and boy do I feel inadequate. I understand there's plenty of physicists--or people, period--who can't write their way out of a paper bag, but that Greene is not only far, far better at physics than I ever could be, but also a far better writer.

I know, I know. Blogging is not writing, at least the writing that gets you published. Writing is a laborious process, subject to many hours of thinking, editing, and searching for the mot juste. Blogging is writing as fast as you can, the speed chess of writing. Writing in such a frenetic manner is unlikely to produce the next great American novel, or even a solid, cool idea. Yet, it's depressing to see how far I'd have to go to present that kind of lexicographic mastery.

I blog as much to experiment with what I write, to try out new words, new turns of phrases, as to present a point of view, but it's a struggle to do both. My ideas are mundane at best, the result of not thinking about many things deeply, thus producing only the most banal of observations ("that rocks!"). It helps, from time to time, that I'll scan back a paragraph or two, and, y'know, read it, try to make it sound epsilon better than now.

I'm now listening to Sufjan Stevens. I found a performance of his from last year, which he held in Canada. His performances are almost high-school play-like in nature. He has a large cast of fellow musicians that sing along with him, as well as dress up in cheerleader outfits. Even if you've listened to his albums a lot--and I have--he comes up with variations to keep the live performances interesting.

There are elements of his music that speak of his closeness with religion. It's a topic he doesn't seem to discuss much in public. There are a few songs, though, say, Jason from A Sun Came and The Predatory Wasp of the Paliasades Is Out To Get Us! from his latest Come On Feel the Illinoise! which suggest something resembling a gay point of view.

This had me thinking that he had a more subversive agenda, that couched in all this religious trappings, he was feeding, at least partially, some hint of latent gayness. I suppose that's still a possibility. However, in the live performance I heard, he tells the story of his ex-girlfriend from high school, who was a few years older than him, who he met when he moved out to Romulus (I think), a small town of 300.

Upon further research, Sufjan says "Olanson" or some such, but this city does not, as far as I can tell, exist. I've seen a reference to "Pickerell Lake" which does exist in someone's entry.

He recalls being dragged out to the mall, at the age of 14, with his 18 year old girlfriend, while she picked out clothing. He talks about the top of her outfit being paisely, and her bottom being floral. It had shoulder pads and zippers and buttons. He described her clothing as being a big mix of wallpaper. She had asked him his opinion of her new outfit, expecting a positive response. He told her that it looked "confused". Not exactly what she had hoped for.

Sufjan wanted to be a writer, and studied in New York, but he's obviously been far more "successful" as a musician. He's successful in that anyone listening to the indie music scene in the last year or so should have heard his name. Again, it's depressing to realize how talented everyone is.

I don't know that I should be that unhappy. For example, my background is in computer science, and as such, I should be pretty good at programming, and yet, I can't claim I'm the best programmer, not even at my own company. Comparing programming skills is difficult, in any case. There's the amount of code you can produce, but the best measure is how many problems you can solve, and how good the solution is. For some reason, I don't seem to be bothered by the fact I'm not particularly great at programming. I don't know why I should be bothered that I'm not a particularly good writer either.

In reality, with over six billion people, being anywhere near the best at anything is a silly goal. Easily, there are plenty of people that are going to be better. It doesn't mean that one shouldn't try to improve relative to oneself, just that there are simply those that are talented. Why do we strive to be better? Is it really in our nature, or only in the nature of those who actually succeed in being better?

Footballer's Wives

There's a British series called Footballer's Wives. I know little of it except that it somewhat resembles Desperate Housewives. I suppose it tells the story of soccer players, their relationship with each other and their wives. The title is good enough for my blog entry which has nothing to do with that show.

Instead, I've always thought it might be interesting to host a show aimed at women who don't like sports, in particular, football, because there are so many rules, and people get hit, and it's hard to keep your eye on the football, with all the deception and trickery.

Such a show would have to get beyond the basics. It can't simply be about field goals and touchdowns. It should get to fine details of the rules, including recently incorporated rules, but also defensive formations. It should discuss 3-4 vs. 4-3. It should talk about West Coast offense, run-n-shoot, what the option is, why the option isn't played in pro ball, what the basic differences between pro and college ball is.

I could easily see this being twenty or thirty episodes long. I'd want to direct or conceptualize this show.

Now, honestly, I don't know that much about football. I know a lot about the people involved in football. I can tell you that Urban Meyer, coach at Utah, is now Florida's new coach. I can tell you that Tennessee was trying out a two quarterback system this year. I can tell you why teams try two quarterbacks, and why teams don't. But, I can't tell you what a cover-2 defense is, nor do I know what run and shoot is, nor why it's disappeared from the game. I do recognize the shotgun, but not why it's good or bad.

I suspect such a show aimed at women would also find many men who don't like sports either, but want to know more about one of the most strategically complex games popularly played.

My friend Jaime, who played football in middle school, is far more knowledgeable about the game, and so such a show wouldn't appeal to him, at least, not right away. He'd like to see deep strategy, or statistics, or something more than a description of what a quarterback does and what a running back does and so forth.

I've looked at some books that are aimed at dummies, trying to teach them football, and to one extent or another, I find them all flawed. Ideally, I'd start teaching the game as only two players, one on offense, and one on defense, then add more, and more players (say the front five on offsense, then five on defense) until we have everyone.

Anyone interested in throwing lots of money and resources on this idea, while I serve as consultant?

TIFF'in

For as much as I watch movies, which certainly isn't anywhere near the number of films a critic watches, but lately, more than average, I've never taken that next step to complete film geekdom. I've never attended a film festival, at least, not in the serious manner of a true attendee. Not where I'm sitting and watching four films a day, every day for a week.

Of the film festivals in North America, the two that seem the biggest are TIFF (Toronto International Film Festival) and NYFF, the equivalent in New York City. Sure, there's Sundance. It comes out so early in the year that some breakouts occur there before the rest of the world sees it. For example, Blair Witch Project and Memento made early debuts at Sundance.

However, from all accounts, Sundance is a miserable experience. There's snow everywhere. Getting transportation to where you need to go is a pain as well. Then, there are agents everywhere looking for the next big hit. I'd rather be in Toronto in September than Park City in January.

Perhaps one of these years, I'll find time to do the film festival plunge. I expect it's expensive. If I watch that many films a day, I'm sure to spend $40 a day for at least 5 days, and then, I'd have to pick films based on very little information. That's tough.

That's perhaps the main reason I wouldn't go. Unlike critics who average several hundred films a year, and have their ear to the ground listening to new directors domestic and abroad, I don't have similar resources. Instead, I must depend on the critics to provide me such information.

And then, am I really ready to sit through eight hours of watching movies? It's tiring enough to sit through two in a day, but four, sometimes five? Sometimes I feel like a dilettante watching films. Most filmmakers of note have a broad film vocabulary. I sometimes feel like some alumni wife who cheers for the local football team even as she knows little more than touchdowns, fumbles, and field goals.

And that leads me to an idea for my next entry...

Traffick

It's deja vu all over again. I was planning to watch 2046, Wong Kar-Wai's latest (it's sad I have to give his full name, as Wong doesn't evoke enough familiarity of a Spielberg or Godard). I was about to leave, and saw Jaime stretching before his weekend run. Naturally, I went down to talk to him. But it was ten past 10 AM, and I had one hour to get to Bethesda.

The distance from College Park to Bethesda is about 25 minutes, which is assuming, as I do on weekends, that there's no traffic. That's essentially door to door. I can spend just 25 minutes on the Beltway portion if I were going on my normal morning commute.

So instead of heading out right away, I talked to Jaime for like 15 minutes. That put me at 10:30, leaving the bare minimum amount of time. Still, I figured I had ten minutes of buffer, with movie previews, so I only had to be there by 11:10 AM. It would be close, but fine.

Disaster number one. I couldn't start my car. The battery seemed fine. I was getting the normal chug-chug-chug, but it was getting the motor started. I have a recent car, and so the dramatic "car won't start in cold weather", a staple in fake drama (see, for instance, Jagged Edge), should never happen. But, I was especially low on gas today. Normally, I can get at least 40 miles on what appears to be an empty tank of gas. I suspect there's like 3 gallons of gas, even when I'm "empty", which would allow me to travel at least 80 miles with 30 miles per gallon.

I figured I must be out of gas. But how to get more gas? I realized we had a lawn mower, and lawn mowers need gas, so I got the gas container, and poured in some gas, hopefully enough to start the car. This fortunately worked.

But that meant I needed to head to a gas station, which I would have to do anyway, though I had forgotten that I was that low on gas, and hadn't factored the time in. So, I put a full tank of gas, even though I had originally planned to put in about $5 which is now barely 2 gallons of gas. Traffic, oddly enough, was so bad right near the gas station that I decided I might as well fill the entire tank. It would't take that much longer, and I was probably going to have to wait.

The gas incident delayed me another ten minutes. Right now, it's 15 of 11 AM, and I have about twenty minutes to get to Bethesda. Again, do-able, since I still have trailers.

Disaster number two. The beltway traffic is crazy. It takes a while, but after listening to the radio, it's become the "perfect storm". In particular, there was an accident at exit 30 or so (Georgia Avenue). It had been pulled to the side. Then, right around Rockville (exit 34), they decided to do road repairs, and so we're down to three lanes. Finally, there's an accident on 270 (exit 35), southbound, that's blocking all traffic heading south. That might not have affected me, but still, I was fidgeting mightily.

By the time I get to the Rockville exit to head to Bethesda, it's already 15 past 11. It should only have been 11 AM if there was no traffic. It would take me at least ten more minutes to get there, and by then, I would have missed fifteen minutes of the film, so I said forget it, and headed to eat at Cheesecake Factory.

Ah. Cheesecake Factory. Is it worth eating there? The prices are usually $10 or more, but in exchange, you get tons of food, enough for two people. Except I'm only one. I don't want to eat that much food, and they won't give me any less. Sigh. I should think twice before eating there.

All I can say is that frustration is the difference between expectation (twenty minutes to drive from College Park to Bethesda) and reality (twenty minutes just on the Beltway, plus having to get gas). I know, it's my fault for not planning ahead.

And I didn't even get to the point that I was planning to watch this without Dave. I offered, and he just said he couldn't make it. He didn't throw out any counterproposal. He could say I'd love to watch it with you, but I have plans this weekend. Let's say we watch it on Tuesday night. Does that work for you?, except that a bit too much commitment on his part, and he probably wants to arrange it with others, which means we're at the whims of other people's schedule.

I figured, forget it. I'm going to watch it anyway. Let him figure out his own way, if he doesn't want to plan to watch it.

Anyway, I'll probably watch it tomorrow. Hopefully, traffic will be back to normal by then.

Late Night

As you can surmise by the time of this blog, it's late. And I'm awake. I had tried sleeping around 11 PM, but woke up around 1:30 AM and talked to my housemate, Dave, who had just come back from dinner with his family. His brother is heading to California for grad work, so he won't see him so regularly. I suspect, with a family as close as his, it must be disconcerting that two of his brothers have now moved from the area, although his sister has moved back.

I decided to check Dave's blog to see what's what. He's been unofficially hosting movie night at school. Both Dave and I have relatively obscure tastes in film. This sometimes posed a problem with Dami, who loved to watch movies with her friends, but honestly would prefer simple entertainment to the stuff Dave and I like to watch. She seemed to follow the Indian mentality, which is also the popular American mentaility, that movies should be entertaining. You should like the characters. You should enjoy the plot. That kind of thing.

She never quite understood that there are some movies that don't have a strong plot, that intend to convey a feeling, more than tell a story. For example, much of Wong Kar-Wai's plot is about alienation, failure to communicate, as well as being an exercise in Hong Kong cool, and bright colors, and langourous bodies, with wafts of smoke. He paints as seductive and luxurious a film as any director working. Yet, those seeking a simple story line, that has a beginning, middle, and end are likely to be disappointed.

There are even limits to what Dave will enjoy. For example, he nearly fell asleep as Tropical Malady. I admit, it's quite slow, and I didn't particularly enjoy the experience while it unfolded. But I thought it was still worth watching. It's good news that Apichat Weerasethakul is not the only Thai director that's getting some international recognition. There's a director named Wisit Sasanatieng who's directed Citizen Dog . Mike D'Angelo compares him to Jeunet, presumably because he has a similar visual style to the man who brought the world Amelie. I suspect this film is likely to be more entertaining than Tropical Malady.

I recently read Mike's review of The Wayward Cloud by Tsai Ming-Liang. I've only seen one of his films, What Time Is It There?, which is about a man who dies, and how his son, who inherits the watch, ends up selling his watch to a Taiwanese actress bound for Paris. The way that these three seem to mourn, if that's the right word, for this man's death is a study in emotional despair. Both the son and the actress seem to wander around aimlessly, while the wife of the man starts to act irrationally, and tries to pleasure herself, presumably in his memory? The title of the film comes from the odd act that the son does, which is to change all the clocks he can to Paris time, where the actress is, almost as if giving away his father's watch was giving away his soul, and that this is some way to reclaim it.

Tsai connects these three and their reaction to the man's death in a very peculiar fashion, and watching it, you're struck by thinking "This is so strange", and yet, there's something compelling about watching something so difficult to grasp. This is not, in my opinion, the same kind of strangeness one feels in Tropical Malady.

The Wayward Cloud has these same actors in the film, and serves as a loose sequel to What Time Is It There?. Admittedly, Tsai, like Woody Allen, likes using the same actors over and over, and so it unifies his films by reusing these actors. This time, the son, who sold watches in What Time Is It There? is now working as a porn actor. There's also a drought in Taiwan. This film apparently comments on porn, and yet, has musical numbers that break up the unusual ongoings of the film. Asian cinema, which was considered huge in the 90s still seems just as vibrant today as ever. Tsai is a challenging director for the average filmgoer, much more so than Wong Kar-Wai, but still has enough odd touches to keep it compelling.

Mike also gave a favorable review to Lee Myung-Se's Duelist. Lee is much more in the mold of John Woo, and is therefore much easier to like. Kinesthetics and action seem to be his stock-in-trade. I've only seen one of his films, Nowhere To Hide. Like other Korean films, it seems to be grittier than the Hong Kong equivalent. Even the cool characters have a rougher side than the daintily cool Wong Kar-wai types.

The last two weeks, I've found that Dave and I have been growing increasingly distant. Part of that is that I'm a bit busier at work, so I've stayed longer at work. By the time I'm back, sometimes I just want to sleep. Part of it is that we just don't plan things together anymore. We never planned that much per se, but I might say, do you want to head to the gym, and he'd say sure, then we'd get pizza for dinner. Or I'd attend the movie nights that Dave seems to be in charge of.

Lately, due to work, I've not attended these movie nights. They've gone on without me. I could have maybe made last night's movie, but decided to eat with Jaime instead. The thought of sitting two hours to watch a film was not that intriguing last night. I just wanted to eat. Jaime didn't seem to care one way or another about movie night, so he came to dinner. It didn't hurt that I was treating.

When Jeremy used to host movie nights, there would be votes for what to watch. Invariably, you'd get some combination of geek friendly films like War Games, or some well-known classics like Chinatown. You'd never get a film like The Wind Will Carry Us by Abbas Kiarostami. Intriguingly enough, the ECE folks also hosted their own movie night, but whoever was in charge of that was a fan of films, though certainly, even their choices veered to films that could be enjoyed by many.

For example, if you wanted to pick a few films that anyone could watch, you'd show March of the Penguins, or Grizzly Man, or Amelie to name an older film. With Dave hosting the films, some have been hit and miss. Some people have liked. Some people have not. Dave seems to fret whenever people don't like the movies, even if, in reality, people probably only enjoy about half the movies they watch. The more of a cineaste you are, the wider the range of movies you'll watch and can potentially enjoy. The average filmgoer often likes a narrow range of movies, such as action or comedy.

Dave also been concerned that he doesn't meet enough people, doesn't make enough friends, and yet his personality is quite different from Jaime, who, by contrast does meet people. I've found that people who get along well with others have the ability to make you feel like you're important. I remember this guy from Cornell named Sandy, who was from Indonesia, and studying electrical engineering. Sandy took tons of courses, and so often spent one class trying to catch up with another class. He'd lean on his friends to get him notes he'd missed, because he was invariably studying for exam in another course, even as he tried to sit and pay peripheral attention to class.

Sandy was reasonably popular. He liked to talk to lots of people. He was almost always in a rush to one thing or another. Yet, occasionally, he'd say hi and want to do something with you. Hey, he'd say, let's go get pizza. I'd stare around and think, "who me?".

Jaime is similar. Jaime really wants to make others happy. He says funny things, and invariably, he'll find something positive to say about you. From time to time, he'll want to do things with you. Dinner, go to the gym, run, something. He's at least aware that to be with friends requires some degree of doing things together.

Dave, by nature, is more introverted. He's not likely to call a friend up and ask if they want to do something. Instead, he'll email out folks to see if they want to see a movie. Doing things in groups takes more planning, but is safer. What may seem awkward with one person, can be diffused with a group. Say, you know you like a girl. You don't exactly want her to know it. So, instead, you arrange to have a group to do things. This generally makes it a little more fun for everyone. It lessens the burden of the person setting it up to be entertaining, although the rewards are somewhat less.

Dave's unlikely to call up someone to ask them to go out for lunch or dinner, unless it's more formally a date, or unless it's part of a group outing. It's just difficult for him to do this.

Dave and Dami, although they got along quite well, are opposites in the way they deal with people. Dami is very outgoing, but she is also needy. If you want to make Dami suffer, take away her phone, and make her live by herself for a week. By the end of the week, she'll be screaming and sobbing. She literally needs others to survive. On the other hand, Dave would do just fine by himself. He's not as extreme, as say, Vasile, who never seems to go out with friends or go out and do anything, but I suspect Dave's not that dissimilar. At least Dave knows his tendency to be by himself (or his family) is a shortcoming and tries to do something about it.

On the one hand, Dami can't imagine not talking to friends on the phone every day. On the other,Dave finds it challenging to pick up the phone to call anyone for any reason except logistics. To be fair, even Jaime can't stand interacting with people on the phone. In that sense, it's a guy thing to avoid using the phone to keep up with friends.

Ultimately, I realize that part of the reason Dave and I did things together was because of Dami, even though I've actually known Dave (and vice versa) longer than I've known Dami (by a few years at that). Part of the reason is that Dave likes Dami. I don't mean likes likes as in girlfriend, but he enjoys her company (or did, since she's moved away) and since Dami often wanted to hang out in a group of several people, invariably, I'd be there too. Dave would simply rather hang out with women than men. He doesn't mind that hanging out with women might mean hanging out with other guys (interestingly enough, the men that used to hang out with Dami, who she REALLY had no interest in, now hang out with another girl).

I had recalled hearing a story about Rob, who apparently does quite well with women, where he recommended using pickup lines with men as well as women. Now, this isn't to say that Rob is bi, at least, not that I know of. However, picking up women is not all about being overtly trying to hit on a woman. It's about creating interesting conversation, showing an interest in the other person, and by interest, I mean, what the person is about, what their hobbies are, what their views on this or that are. You can do this as much with a guy as a girl.

Now I don't see Rob that much, nor do I talk to him that much, but everytime he's around, he greets me by name (for a while, I had no idea that he even knew my name), and tries to be friendly. That's impressive. Most people don't do that.

This isn't Dave's personality. He's not likely to go up to Jaime and say, "Yo Spacarooni, what is up, MY MAN!", probably as much to preserve self-dignity as anything, but also because that's just not how he greets people. He's more likely to talk about something he's read about than to engage a person in who they are, and even when he does try to engage people, it can come across as awkward, because he's relatively inexperienced talking to people in this manner. There's a tradeoff between asking questions, and interjecting anecdotes, and I'm not sure whether he's there yet or not. To his credit, he's trying.

Once in a while, I chat with someone In Australia, who also seems to spend a great deal of time cooped up at home, when he'd rather be out meeting women. He complains that women don't like him. I suggested that he take acting classes. Acting is all about trying to inhabit the personality of someone else. Once you practice being other people, it's easier to break out of the shell of shyness. It's mostly because people are trying to be honest with themselves and be true to themselves that they end up being unable to do the things they want. To tell someone to pretend to be someone else is difficult, because it feels like so much of a lie. Yet, if you do it, you are attempting to see the world as they see it, even as it's filtered through your perception of them.

Hmm, all this blogging hasn't helped me get to sleep. So, I better stop. We'll see if Dave reads this entry. =).

Fight the Good Fight

A few years ago, I watched a documentary on television. It was about Apollo 13. At the time, the Ron Howard film had yet to be made. The incident occurred roughly around April 14, 1970. There's even a line from the film that says they can defer their taxes.

Watching the documentary, I was amazed at never having heard of this event in history. The story of a space mission gone wrong, with scientists from NASA trying desperately to figure out how to get Apollo 13 back to earth, after a mishap in space. Although the film recaptures this moment, it was less of a surprise because I had already seen the documentary. Yet, it was as tense as any moment that I've seen on television. I had never heard of the event in my classes, undergraduate or graduate, or from my parents.

For the rest of America who didn't know of the event, Apollo 13 must have been quite unbelievable, and more so because it really happened.

Often times, movies are escapism. We watch movies to go to fantasy worlds or situations, visiting places we'll never see, or meeting people that we'll never really meet. But occasionaly, film tries to serve as dramatic history lesson.

Given my interest in Brokeback Mountain and the competition that Good Night, and Good Luck gave it at the Venice Film Festival, I was intrigued what this film was all about.

To be fair, I've seen a storyline like this before, and alas, it's Star Trek. In the fourth season of ST:TNG, in an episode titles The Drumhead, an investigation is started when a mysterious explosion occurs. The purpose is to root out enemies of the Federation. It's one of the few episodes that involves hardly any special effects, whose purpose was to be a trial procedural.

In the early 90s, there was a great deal of activity in Usenet, where a variety of newsgroups were spawned, including rec.arts.startrek or something to that effect (the name changed over time). One regular contributor was Timothy Lynch. I probably would have noticed his posts since he was prolific, yet even-handed. Other posters like Michael Rawdon and Atsushi Kanamori seemed to dislike nearly every episode. I noticed even more since he had been at Cornell roughly when I was there. He had since moved to Caltech to do physics, and then decided after a while to teach at a private school.

I recall that he was very impressed by this episode, but as much because of its context in history, referring to the efforts by Senator Joseph McCarthy to root out communists, and the red-scare that ensued from this, where people would accuse others of being communists. Elia Kazan, who directed A Streetcar Named Desire and ushered in an era of movies with method actors like Marlon Brando, was one of the key figures who turned others in when the red-scare lead to the blacklisting of many in Hollywood. When he was honored at the Oscars recently, there were still many who resented what he did.

People wonder if such a thing could happen today. Certainly, it may be happening on a much smaller scale, with those of Middle Eastern descent being accused of collaborating with terrorists. However, it hasn't registered with the same kind of fervor as the red-scare of the forties.

Having now watched the preview of Good Night, and Good Luck, which seems to summarize the entire film. Edward Murrow, noted journalist, whose reports from Europe during World War 2 made him a kind of superstar back in the states, heard that McCarthy was planning to go after him. He had collected information on McCarthy over the years, and decided he would go after McCarthy, despite his ability to ruin others. This occurred in the mid-fifties, so is only some fifty years ago.

David Strathairn plays Murrow, and brings another history lesson to the silver screen. Occasional reminders like this tell us that once upon a time, there were people who generated fear in the pursuit of patriotism, and that at times, this paranoia lead to lives being destroyed. Although this represents only one facet of Murrow's life---he continued to represent and uphold journalistic integrity for many years after the McCarthy trials, it is a key event in American history, and one that ought to make it to the screen.

It's sad that history is often told through this medium, but there is, after all, so much history, and most of us don't spend a great deal of time reading about it. I applaud those who do, and who make the effort to popularize it. I can't bring myself to criticize those who don't read history, because if you criticize them, then you can criticize those who do read it for not doing other things. But if it takes a film to make people more aware of history, then that's fine with me.

Word Up

I haven't mentioned it, have I? Brokeback Mountain is based on book by Annie Proulx. Many films have their origins in books, so this raises the problem...should you read the book before watching the film? I know many people, especially those who enjoy reading, who insist on reading the book before watching the movie. And, yet, there's something wrong about this approach.

Usually, people make movies about books that people love, or at least, have had some critical success. For example, Kazuo Ishiguro's Remain Of The Day was the winner of the Booker Prize, a British prize for best novel. It was made into a film by Merchant-Ivory-Jhabvala, near the height of their filmmaking. Yet, films often do not live up to the books they are bases on. Books can delve into the motivation behind what a character does. Without resorting to voiceover, films can't do this. And most screenplay writers will tell you that voiceover is a cop-out. Show, don't tell, is the mantra of filmmaking.

The biggest problem with reading the book, other than having the film not live up to the book, is that it may reveal secrets or plot twists that you'd rather not know. I'd rather read about these twists in a book after watching the film. Since a film is constrained by a running time of two hours or so, and a book is not, there are often more pleasures from reading a book even after the film is watched.

Yet, one reason people read a book before the film is so they actually read. Once the film has been watched, the motivation to read the book is often greatly diminished. There's very little reason to read it after the fact. I have the novel, Mysterious Skin, which was made into a film by Gregg Araki. I'm still only sporadically reading it. I'd like to read more of it, but haven't found the time or desire to do so.

That leads me to my dilemma. Should I read Brokeback Mountain or not? Unfortunately, I've read some spoilers already. This is the risk one takes by trying to read about the film. Many people, including me, are not particularly careful with spoilers. They tell you the secret because by golly it's really hard to keep the secret. By already know the spoilers, I might as well read the book, yet I prefer to watch a film with as unblemised an experience as I can get away with.

Often, though, what you imagine the film to be, and what it is, can be two different things. I knew, for example, that Tropical Malady split its narrative in two halves. I was half-expecting something far more fantastical in the second half, akin to a Terry Gilliam film. Perhaps it's good that it didn't take that route, because I found, say, the world presented in Gilliam's The Brothers Grimm to be visually, but not emotionally, compelling.

In the end, I think I won't read the book until the film comes out. That won't be until December, so I still have a few months to change my mind.

I Wanna Be A Cowboy

Brokeback Mountain, the latest by Ang Lee, recently won the top prize at the Venice film festival beating out George Clooney's film Good Night, and Good Luck about Edward Murrow, intrepid reporter of the past, played by David Strathairn, and Joseph McCarthy, staunch anti-communist, who lead a witch-hunt. Many in Hollywood came under blacklist because they were accused of being communists. Playwright, Arthur Miller, wrote about the Salem with trials in his play, The Crucible, which was really about McCarthy.

There was some apprehension that Brokeback Mountain wouldn't fare too well. After all, it didn't even make the cut at Cannes. Even so, Ang Lee has historically had problems getting his films into Cannes. For some reason, they don't embrace him.

I've heard of this film ever since they cast it about a year ago. At the time, there were those that didn't like the idea of Heath Ledger in the role. He was seen as a pretty boy, with the acting chops of Keanu Reeves. With quirky roles such as Donnie Darko, Jake Gyllenhaal (will I ever get his name right>), was perceived as the better actor.

In fact, Ledger's looks have probably dictated some of the initial roles he's had. The Patriot and A Knight's Tale weren't exactly thespian roles. Although he acted in Monster's Ball, it was a film that most people heard about more than they saw. The two leads, Billy Bob Thornton, and Halle Berry, rightfully took top billing.

To me, the revelation for Ledger was The Brothers Grimm. Even though his characterization was, IMO, wrong for the story (at one hand, an academic, and on the other, believing in fantasy and spirits---sort of Mulder and Scully as the same person), it was nevertheless the kind of acting that Keanu could never do. Ledger's mannerisms as a bookish type, exasperated at his more popular brother (Damon), was not a role that you'd expect of him, much as Colin's Farrell role as a meek baker in A Home At the End of the World.

To this end, I've read Mike D'Angelo's reviews of Brokeback Mountain, and while he rated it a 66, excellent, by his standards. (Mike rates on a 0 to 100 scale. I have yet to see a 100, although he rated Gus Van Sant's Elephant a zero. He uses the entire range of scores. 50 is decent, but flawed. 60 is pretty good. 70 is great. 80 is outstanding. 90 is unbelievable. On his scale, above a 60 is pretty good, what most critics would give a 3 stars or so). Although he doesn't care for the kind of movie it is, he says that it's as well done as that movie can be made. And impressively, he's ready to rate Ledger as actor of the year for his performance.

With a director like Ang Lee, you don't expect him to take too many chances. True, the Hulk wasn't unabashed superhero movie (no, I haven't seen---just read reviews) as Spiderman. This is what happens when you get someone who isn't an avid comic book fan, but who wants emphasize what he thinks is important (say, the drama between Banner and his father).
But films like The Wedding Banquet and Crouching Tiger try to appeal to emotions. Ang isn't nearly the indie director that fellow countryman Tsai Ming-Liang (director of What Time Is It There? and The River) is.

There are directors that are considered more prominent than Ang Lee from Taiwan. Hou hsiao-hsien, who tends to direct films that are opaque to follow (mostly trying to keep the Chinese names straight), even if excellently framed and composed, or Edward Yang, who like, say, Wong Kar-wai, realizes Taiwan's place in the Asian economy (with characters speaking in Taiwanese, Mandarin, Japanese, and English). Yang is interested in life in Taiwan in an increasingly global economy, and the search for meaning with one foot in the past, and one in the future, between tradition and Westernization (or Japanization).

Ang Lee is concerned with simple storytelling. He's not as intrigued by stories of what it means to be human in the 21st century, a topic of vast intrigue to Jonathan Rosenbaum. He is interested in emotional repression and complexity. Crouching Tiger is as much about a love that isn't fulfilled out of respect, and in the end, what a meaningless sacrifice to hold to such honor.

The Ice Storm is about the new sexual politics of the 70s, and the loss of morals, in the pursuit of fun, and its essential hollowness.

Brokeback Mountain was originally slated to be directed by Gus Van Sant. Unless Van Sant was prepared to go back to films like Finding Forrester, a serviceable directorial job, that could have been done by practically anyone, his version would have perhaps been more austere, less emotional, at least, if you base it on his recent efforts with Elephant, Gerry, and Last Days.

What has everyone concerned, which is really what has the gay community concerned, is how explicit the sex scenes are. On the one hand, there are those who feel Steven Spielberg should be flogged for his sanitizaation of The Color Purple for understating the lesbian relationship between Celie (Whoopi) and Shug (played by Margaret Avery). Had he left those scenes in--Spielberg never seems that comfortable with sex scenes, he'd probably have pushed the film from Oscar consideration. But given the Oscar shutout, Spielberg could have made a more honest film to the source.

Reports are that there are some sex scenes in the film, though probably a bit tamer than one might expect. Presumably this means hot and steamy, but in creative angles the emphasize eyes, sweat, and little genitalia.

This represents a step forward towards more adult-themed roles for the Gyllenhaal clan. Maggie Gyllenhaal recently did her best Annette Bening in Happy Endings where she corrupted son and father (Tom Arnold) in the search of, what, wealth? Security?

Jake shows up next in the war film Jarhead, from the award-winning director of American Beauty (now, who was that? Ah, Sam Mendes). Mendes also directed the Tom Hanks-Paul Newman film, Road to Perdition. He's a visual stylist of the first order. Trailers make it seem like he's doing his best Kubrick, at least, vis a vis with Full Metal Jacket. That's scheduled to be released in November, so it may be Gyllenhaal will compete with himself come Oscar time.

Ah, the Oscars. Are they even worth it? OK, compete with himself for some acting awards that aren't the Oscars.