Here and There

I dare you to watch this and not fall over in your chair:

I finally got the July 21, 2008, issue of the New Yorker that had so many bloggers, blog readers, and media types in a tizzy earlier this week.

I was outraged. And here’s why:

From the moment I saw the cover (Sunday night, I believe it was), I thought it was funny, if not hilarious, if not brilliant. New Yorker cartoons often take a moment to fully sink in and realize the hilariousness of. Ditto here, except that I was realizing how funny and awesome it was — what a great Fuck You to the legions of morons out there who believe any or all of the stereotypes so artfully portrayed by the artist.

But I was pissed looking at this cover, once I held it in my hands, because now all it does is remind me what an annoying little episode it represents in this never-ending campaign season.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’ll fade away into the depths of long-term, collective memory. We rarely talk of Reverend Jeremiah Wright these days, after all.

But maybe I’m right. Gee, that would make a great alternative title of this blog. Heh.

The New Yorker editor-in-chief speaks sanity to a non-story run amok.

I dunno. Should I feel bad for not freaking out? It’s so clearly over-the-top satire, I don’t think it’s gonna persuade anyone who’s on the fence.

The way I see it, there are three camps of U.S. voter: Obama, McCain, on the fence. Obama supporters will still vote for him. McCain voters will still vote for him. People on the fence won’t be pushed to McCain because of this cover of a magazine, never mind that it’s the New Yorker.

To me, it doesn’t perpetuate stereotypes as much as it does expose the ridiculousness of them.

Pretty poignant essay on the legacy of George Carlin. By Jerry Seinfeld.

Get ready for a fuckload of motherfucking headlines with tons of goddam cuss words in them today, tomorrow, and the coming days. Weeks, perhaps.

That’s all. Back to work.

This guy practically taught me how to cuss, as well as how amazing language is and how fucked-up some people are. His wit and insights will be missed:

Vintage Colbert:

From The Onion, Researchers Discover Massive Asshole in Blogosphere.

In the spirit of Sullivan’s Mental Health Breaks, I bring you David Cross:

Thx: Kottke.org and Nerve.com

Tracey Morgan came on SNL’s Weekend Update this weekend, and answered a previous appearance by fellow SNL alum Tina Fey.

Here’s the clip (please excuse the ad):

Poll: Bullshit Is Most Important Issue For 2008 Voters

At the end of a year, it’s really tough for my feeble memory to keep track of the movies I saw that year. Not that I see a lot of movies. More like I just have a really bad memory.

But here’s my best stab at 2006’s list, with brief reactions:

Letters from Iwo Jima. Excellent. Suffered only for a few recognizable faces. Hardly a flaw.
Casino Royale. Great new Bond actor. Good story. Good action.
Jesus Camp. Great in that it showed me something I otherwise wouldn’t see. Scary.
Little Miss Sunshine. Easily the most overrated film of the year. Good at times, but overall cheesy.
The Science of Sleep. As close to Being John Malkovich-perfect as this year came.
Superman Returns. What a waste.
The Devil and Daniel Johnston. A close-up look at a far-out guy. Pretty damn compelling.
Babel. Brad Pitt couldn’t bring this movie down. Some flaws, but overall really good.
The Departed. As I tell people, 99 percent perfect. One percent absolute shit. Tie for best of the year, with …
Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. He makes fun of those who need to be made fun of. And he does it well.
Volver. I’m an Almodóvar fan, but this was too sentimental. Too long, also.
The Good Shephard. Good, but overly ambitious. Slightly above average.
An Inconvenient Truth. Good, though I dozed a few times. Saw it late, so there’s that.
Marie Antoinette. I’m not opposed to camp. Just do it well. Coppola did not do it well. And Kirsten Dunst was god-awful.

Sorry to end on such a sour note, but I made this list in the order I remembered the movies. Hope this does something for someone out there.

I’m going to try something a little different here with my “review” of Little Miss Sunshine.

I realize it’s naïve and perhaps a bit ambitious, but I maintain and update this blog with the idea that people are reading, people other than my close circle of friends. I value the fact that anyone, friend or not, takes the trouble to read. But the few who go a step further to leave comments or otherwise engage in dialogue make this whole ordeal that much more meaningful.

That said, I’d like to know why people liked this movie. It’s been a long, long time since a movie has been talked up as much as Little Miss Sunshine, and, cynic that I am, I went in with relatively low expectations.

But I can’t figure out why everyone implored me to see it. Or why one friend went as far as to claim that the film was “one of the best of the young century.”

Sure, I laughed at times. And for the first 20 or 30 minutes, the film did a great job laying out and developing a diverse set of quirky and compelling characters. The plot even looked good, until it attempted to get underway.

After that point, the movie fell flat on its face, with corny plot twists and cheesy gags and cringe-inducing lines firing off at every turn.

The only “trees” I appreciated in this “forest” of wasted celluloid were Grandpa’s (Alan Arkin) advice to his vow-of-silence-d grandson Dwayne (Paul Dano) and the behind-the-scenes scenes from the Little Miss Sunshine pageant.

Otherwise, the film was predictable and bland. Steve Carell even did the same goofy straight-armed run he does in all his films. And I happen to like him.

I just don’t get it. I leave it to you to tell me what I’m missing. Please.

Saw Michel Gondry’s The Science of Sleep last night. It was one of those very-close-to-perfect moviegoing experiences, and I feel compelled to write something about it.

The movie elegantly blended plot with superficial elements, leaving behind an effective and thoroughly enjoyable experience.
What I mean is that the film was filled with visual and aural wonders, yet also maintained a tangible storyline, as well as some commentary on life.

The performances were great, too. As Stephane, Gael García Bernal again proves his expanding range, taking on a comically plagued individual, playing him slightly more comically than tragically. Stephane’s multi-linguality and “condition” render him a most sympathetic character.

Charlotte Gainsbourg (daughter of Serge) did well with Stephanie, whom we see as more or less a dual-personality. See the film and you’ll know what I mean.

The supporting cast was so amusing. Notable were Guy (Alain Chabat) and Serge (Sacha Bourdo), at times taking the comedic elements of the movie over the top.

It’s a movie as much about waking life as it is about dreams, about the way the two depend on each other and are forever symbiotically tied together. It questions the divisions between our cerebral experiences both in and out of sleep.

The Science of Sleep lacks the name-recognition afforded to Gondry’s last effort, The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. But it makes up for it in getting every element of excellent filmmaking right. It makes you laugh, it might make you cry, and most of all, it makes you think, though not too deeply.