[writing/literature] [movies] 

"O Captain! My Captain!" by Walt Whitman

Okay, this one should be fairly familiar, even for people who haven't seen Dead Poet's Society. It's still a good poem, and if you aren't familiar with it, even better.

[personal/blog]  [movies] 

A couple days ago, things started off well. I got a letter from her, the first one I'd gotten. Then I went to work and everything started going downhill -- fast.

Evelin is a little Salvadoran girl I sponsor, you know, "for the price of a cup of coffee a day..." -she's seven, and she was born on the same day of the year as I was. On Tuesday, I got a letter from her. Inside it was a crayon-drawn picture. I don't mean to draw comparisons to the movie About Schmidt, but it crossed my mind. I was touched by the picture she drew. I guess the letter was physically written by someone else, because she doesn't know how to write yet, but still, it was all quite touching.

I was going to show the picture to someone at work who I thought would appreciate it, but as soon as I arrived, I was cut off by a little bit of hostility. Since then, things just haven't been as pleasant as I would hope. All the unpleasantness had pushed the thoughts of the letter to the background, but today I finally sat down to write a letter back to Evelin. I made sure to remember to mention how pretty the picture was, the way I would with one of my younger nieces or nephews.

I think of the smile a little child gets when you compliment their artwork, how appreciated they seem to feel. I remember how appreciated I felt when I was a kid and someone would compliment a picture I drew or something I built with my Legos. Come to think of it, I guess even into adulthood, most of us still appreciate positive feedback when we do something good. It was kind of a cool thought to bring me back from the unpleasantness. That's all.

[movies]  [personal/blog]  [sociopolitical] 

"Is there a cure among us
from this processed sanity?
I weaken with each voice that sings."
-Collective Soul

I just saw The Assassination of Richard Nixon, and I thought it was fairly interesting, not to mention thought-provoking. The movie is based on real events that took place in 1974, and it tries to fill in some of the unknown plot points of a man who hatched his own plan to crash an airplane into the White House. But it wasn't actually about crashing a plane into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, nor was it really about Richard Nixon.

The story is more focused on Sam Bicke, the film's almost sympathetic villain, as he spirals into his own little underworld, descending into a reality where the world is full of lying and deception. He comes to identify Richard Nixon as a target for his frustration, though throughout the movie he finds enough blame for his situation to place on just about every set of shoulders besides his own. Of course, he's not totally off-base in his assessment of society's dishonesty, and certainly the Nixon White House wasn't a bad example of such an ethic, either.

The problem with the Sam Bicke character is his response to the perceived problem. And that led me to consider one question: how did he end up that way? Was it serious mental illness, or was it just a faulty attitude carried too far?

We all know people who blame everyone but themselves for their problems in life. At times, these people even have a point. The problem, as I see it, with the mentality of everything being someone else's fault is that people who become obsessed with it tend to avoid proactive solutions to their problems. They either become involved in an ineffective crusade against whoever they hold responsible, or they become satisfied with living a substandard life and blaming it on someone else. Like I wrote earlier, we all know people like that, and chances are those of us who don't may be those people.

But Bicke's dysfunction seems to relate to a realistic observation, that dishonesty and deception are common in our world. It seems as if he might have been a believer in an admirable set of ideals, only to have been disillusioned. This reminded me of myself, in that I have tried to cling to a lofty set of ideals, even in the presence of overwhelming ugliness and despair. I wonder if that's where the movie's tragic hero comes from, and if the crashing of reality on his dream was all it took for him to come unhinged.

I don't really see myself responding like Sam Bicke, but I often wonder if some day I'll completely let go of my ideals, like the other half of the dysfunctional people out there, not the ones who become infinitely frustrated with the world's imperfections, but the ones who completely, and indiscriminately accept them. I'm not sure which fate would be worse.

"The Song of Despair" by Pablo Neruda
(translated by W.S. Merwin)

I am relatively new to Neruda's poetry. I'll confess that the only thing that made me search him out at the local bookstore was the use of some of his lines in a film called The Motorcycle Diaries, which I recently saw, and enjoyed. For some reason, every time I see a foreign language film with subtitles, or for that matter, a foreign language poem translated to English, I wish I could enjoy it in its original language. Reading Neruda's poems makes me want to brush up on my long-since eroded Spanish skills.

"I'm real sorry your mom blew up, Ricky."

That's the line that reminds me of my all-time favorite comedy. Most people I know who've seen the film know it better by a simple pair of words: "TWO DOLLARS!"

I'm referring to the film Better Off Dead, which has not only been the most enjoyable dark comedy I ever saw, but also the first dark comedy I ever saw.

So, in honor of the ultimate dark teen romantic comedy, I wanted to mention a couple other films that probably snuck under most peoples' radar when they were first made. One that's a little more serious than the aforementioned John Cusack classic is Dominic and Eugene, and today's other recommendation is an oft-forgotten comedy from the Brothers Coen called The Hudsucker Proxy.

I don't want to say too much about any of these three movies, mostly because I walked into all three without any clue what to expect and I think that only added to my enjoyment, though I know people who have thoroughly enjoyed them, even after being exposed to a certain amount of hype about them.

This is just a short list of three films, but more are popping into my head as I write, but I'll leave them for another time. (Or you could comment with some suggestions of movies that you think have been under-appreciated.)

To open things up early this Sunday morning (very early), I would like to acknowledge that two significant females are celebrating birthdays today, neither of which will be mentioned by name. One is a lovely niece of mine, and the other is my esteemed f3 (favorite female friend). I hope both events go extremely well.

Speaking of my f3, I have been thinking about a movie we saw a while back that I thought was a very well-made, poignant film based on true events that occurred in Australia. It's called Rabbit-Proof Fence. This feature chronicles the story of three aboriginal girls who escape from a government-sponsored camp in 1931 to try to get back to their mother, using the rabbit-proof fence that bisects the continent as a guide to get back home. I don't want to write too extensively about the story line, except to say that I found it extremely interesting and provocative, especially in the sense that it spurred me to do some research on my own about the historical context of the subject matter. It is rated PG, and should be suitable for family viewing, except that some of the social implications of this story will be lost on some younger viewers.

I highly recommend this film. (My f3 liked it a lot, too.)

"The Tiger" by William Blake

I came across this poem early in my education in poetry, probably more than twenty years ago -- I can't quite recall. I was reminded of it a year or so ago when I saw a film called The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys, in which this particular Blake rhyme was referenced. I know that those with serious exposure to poetry (and some without) are fairly familiar with this verse, but I didn't want to assume everyone has read it. Or perhaps, as in my case, other readers might simply be reminded of it.

In a parallel mention, I have discovered a new weblog for good original poetry; it's called Watermark. Well at least it's new to me. I may even add it to the eclectics eventually. There's a related site called Oratory, but it's in the moving process right about now, so the link will not (as of yet) deliver you to any poetry -- apparently that will be remedied within a week or so.

I have been blessed with a Gmail invite, ostensibly because I commented on a Keeme post about Gmail invites, and I am grateful.

I think it's somewhat cool that when you get an invite, you apparently also get six more invites to distribute to other people. I haven't decided whether or not I'm interested in auctioning off any of my invites, as there is a short list of folks to whom I wanted to give first consideration, but if you think you think you may belong on that short list, you can email me with your thoughts.

I swear I never (in a million years) saw myself dangling Gmail invites like this, not that there's anything wrong with that. Actually, I think the whole Pay it Forward thing is pretty cool.

So I dragged myself to see a movie last night called Code 46, starring Tim Robbins and Samantha Morton. The movie was strange, with a lot of interesting, if not disturbing ideas -- I guess that's why it could only be tracked down in the art house theater. I wanted to see it, but only because I've become strangely obsessed with Samantha Morton (?).

The film's a mixture of sci-fi, romance and crime drama, with cloning and genetic compatibility issues mixed in. I found it fascinating at points, but it's definitely not a film with mainstream appeal (nor is it suitable for younger viewers). Perhaps the highlights of the movie are both music related; one is the use of one of my favorite Coldplay tunes, and the other is Mick Jones playing a karaoke bar patron butchering Clash classic "Should I Stay or Should I Go".

No overwhelming recommendation here, but I thought I'd mention it. Good day.

I recall the first time I saw The Sixth Sense. The original decision to see it hinged mainly on the fact that it was a movie starring a major actor, written and directed by a local guy no one had ever heard of, and filmed on location in Philadelphia. For us locals, that would have been enough to pack theaters for at least a week or two, but what we (and the rest of the majority of moviegoers) got out of it kept it alive in theaters for much longer than that. It was, and still is, one of the best suspense movies I've seen -- right up there with The Usual Suspects (another movie that caught me completely unaware when I was dragged to it by my best friend).

We in the Philly fraternity were all proud of Night Shyamalan and the respect he'd garnered for himself, as well as for the Philadelphia area as a film backdrop.

Then came the letdown, specifically, Unbreakable -- another Bruce Willis role, again set in Philly, adding Samuel L. Jackson to the mix. It should have been great, given the talent between those two alone, but it was a disappointment, to say the least. Perhaps if we hadn't seen Night's first suspense effort and thus been made aware of his potential, it would have been enough to see the real Philadelphia locations in a moderately dramatic film. But, alas, the bar had already been raised too high for that.

With Signs, we saw the quality bounce back, though it still did not compare with Shyamalan's record-shattering ghost story from '99. But with scenery snatched from Bucks County's own historic farmlands, it was especially cool, made only cooler by the sightings of Mel Gibson in area restaurants and shooting scenes on streets just a few minutes from my house. I liked the movie well enough, but as with Unbreakable, I didn't bother to see it more than once.

Enter The Village, Night Shyamalan's fourth major film release. It's probably not as momentous as his breakout thriller, but it's still satisfying. It features a few decent twists, while offering enough accompanying substance to warrant praise as more than just another surprise ending.

The film is an interesting critique, but of what, I'm not entirely sure. I've heard some say it's aimed at the current state of homeland security strategy in the U.S. Others have suggested it might be a sermon against gated communities, or perhaps even a cautionary tale to parents who obsessively shelter their children. I think it's all of the above, in that I don't believe it takes a specific aim at any current situation. It has applications to many societal conditions, but is not overly preachy about it. One over-arching idea I thought it was most critical of is the tendency of some in authority (whether the authority is over a family, a community or society as a whole) to utilize fear as a way of keeping their subordinates in line. While that critique may resonate with many who believe our government has been using terror alerts in such a way, I think the assumption that this movie is just about that may be a bit of a leap. But to each his own, I guess.

Its suspenseful qualities are sufficient, which should be expected from a film-maker like Night Shyamalan, and the multi-faceted message (should you choose to observe it) is probably going to remain relevant long after the days of intermittent, color-coded terror alerts (hopefully) pass.

Add to these factors the solid-to-excellent acting from well-known names like William Hurt, Sigourney Weaver, Adrien Brody and Joaquin Phoenix, with a film-stealing performance from Dallas Bryce Howard (daughter of Ron), and it's not hard to think that this film might be Shyamalan's first feature since The Sixth Sense to receive serious Oscar consideration. But far more important than that (to me) is the simple fact that I thought it was an excellent, thematically fascinating film.

In a sidenote, I would like to explain that I know Shyamalan has directed six films (the two remaining efforts were Praying with Anger (1992) and Wide Awake (1998). I titled the entry "The Fourth Night" not because I am unaware of his lesser known films, but because I chose to focus on his offerings in the suspense genre. No offense to fans of the two earlier films.

"I'll pick you up,
I'll set you down,
we'll fall in love
if you want to."
-Terry Taylor

Why do people expect easy relationships?

This isn't to suggest that a good relationship has to be absolutely hellish, but why do so many people run away at the slightest sign of difficulty?

Is love just supposed to be this feel-good, do-it-when-it's-convenient, sort of thing? I think not, but I sense I'm not in the majority.

I recall watching the movie When a Man Loves a Woman with a girl I was dating several years back (wow -- it didn't really feel like 10 years to me). After watching the movie, she commented that she expected it to be a more of a love story. Hearing this comment from her marks the point when I realized she wasn't the one for me. This was an easy realization because I came away from the film with the exact opposite impression, that it was a pretty good love story. It wasn't as flowery or dreamy as she seemed to prefer, but it was definitely a love story. Not knowing anything about it prior to watching it, I was almost disappointed in advance, because I expected more of a lightweight storyline.

For those not familiar with the plot of the film, it's about a couple where the wife is an alcoholic, and the husband is somewhat unaware as the problems grow; but as the story unfolds and the marital crisis deepens, the husband comes around a bit, never gives up on his wife, and they find their way back to each other. It's a love story, but without all the Hollywood fairytale touches (except maybe in the happy ending).

Anyway, without urging everyone to run out and rent it right away, I should just say it's a somewhat reaffirming story, and one that doesn't glorify the easy-way-out theory, which is a bit too prevalent in our culture today.
I think (-based on more relationship detail than I care to divulge-) that my girlfriend at the time chafed at the more somber tones of the movie's storyline, the suggestions that love might require more than is convenient. She wouldn't have been alone in that feeling, which is probably more disturbing to me now than her feeling was at the time she revealed it to me.

I have this idea that maybe a majority of relationships fail because the people involved never really agreed to terms in the first place. Perhaps we think we're in agreement, especially as we stand together, blinded by the glow of romance, but we rarely think to spell out what we're agreeing to. In high school, I learned that the first thing that's needed for an effective agreement is a clear definition of terminology. If John and Jane come together and exchange the words "I love you," assuming they both mean what they're saying, can we predict lasting relationship? It depends on several factors, maybe the most important of which is whether or not "love" means the same thing to both of them. And even then, they might both be agreeing to a definition of love that does not require a very significant commitment.

But we are a society that chafes at the idea that we should have to do anything that we deem as difficult or painful. Why do you think politicians are afraid to tell us they'll raise taxes or cut services, even when they fully intend to do so? Most people are in favor of love, so long as it includes things like financial security, good health, great sex, and other general trappings of superficial happiness. But bring a crystal ball to a couple at the altar (assuming you could) and assure them that there will be squabbles, poor health, a trip to the unemployment office, assorted financial difficulties and bad habits to endure -- how many young, "in love" couples would still say "I do"? I don't... know, that is.

Maybe the most heartbreaking moment is when you think you're with someone who sees love the same way you do, only to discover down the road that your concept of love and your partner's concept of love are irreconcilably different. I've felt that way. Even when the relationship isn't serious, but it seems to have potential, to see that glimpse of a definition of love diametrically-opposed to your own -- it's hard to accept sometimes.

I've met quite a few women who have no taste for the difficult version of love I was raised on, but my own incurable romanticism has somehow kept me hopeful all this time. And maybe for a little while longer...

Well, my birthday is over. It wasn't incredibly eventful, at least not in terms of what needs to be shared here, except one thing: I saw a film. A triumphant little comedy called Napoleon Dynamite. It's a rare movie, especially by my calculation, in that it manages to be quite hilarious (in an unapologetically weird sort of way) while still fitting into its PG rating. It isn't necessarily a story for young children, but it also isn't one that most parents will be ashamed to have their children see.

While one shouldn't expect this movie to change lives, it is both subtly sweet and subversively funny (as someone else pretty much described it on IMDB). The movie tracks the story of a high school misfit and his small circle of friends and family.

Napoleon Dynamite is currently in limited release (I had to visit my favorite art house theater to see it), but I would be surprised if it doesn't catch on with mainstream theaters sometime in the not-too-distant future. The glowing word-of-mouth on this film (the reason I went to see it) is pretty much the only significant advertising it has received, and I have to say the praise seems justified.

This movie may be an instant classic, especially to those of us who have fond memories of moon boots.

Two pertinent links for this entry:
US groups want Moore film banned
Kerry endorsement from The Philadelphia Daily News

I got out to see the new Michael Moore film Fahrenheit 9/11 the other day. We were in one of those theaters that seats around 400 or so people, and it was packed, but it did resemble a more or less one-sided political rally. As much as I was actually fascinated by the film, I got the distinct impression that about 90% of the patrons sharing the room with me were of two basic groups:

1. Those whose hatred for the current Bush White House outweighs any capacity for reasonable thought; some of the banter I heard bore out how little some seemed to understand about politics in general.
2. Those who had very well thought out reasons for disagreeing with the President. Some demonstrated this by the fact that they would quietly discuss parts of the movie as it was playing out, but they weren't as prone to cheer like hooligans at a British football match.

Unfortunately, the first classification easily outnumbered the second. The balance of the crowd may have been a little more like me, sometimes fascinated, sometimes skeptical.

The film itself was reminiscent of Roger & Me and Bowling for Columbine, in that it did make some very worthwhile points. Unfortunately, it was more like the latter film in that it suffered from a severe lack of direction (a flaw that I think a director should be concerned about). Though it did make some worthwhile points, and many with which I would agree, I think to some viewers many of these points are going to be effectively drowned out by the less reasonable parts of the film. But it was humorous at times, poignant at others -- sometimes it was both at the same time.

So if you are going to see this film and are not in the Michael Moore Kool-Aid Club, you will profoundly disagree with some of the portrayals made in this film. If you are a hard-core Bush supporter, you're probably going to disagree with the entire film, as you're probably drinking an entirely different flavor of Kool-Aid (and as such, you probably won't need to even see the film to denounce it completely). If you are one of the millions who regularly cheer Moore's work, you will probably enjoy this to an immense degree.
For what it's worth, I want to endorse one point of this film, as it pertains to the lack of military spending that trickles down to those in our armed forces who are risking their lives in Iraq, Afghanistan, and other places around the world. Moore makes the point more than once in this latest "documentary" that far more is allotted to the salaries of civilian contractors in Iraq than is to those in the armed forces charged with securing the peace. He highlights some military spending cuts that severely affect retired military personnel and those left behind when the family breadwinners go away to serve. But some of us already knew about those things, even before Michael Moore's film.

That said, I think it's ridiculous that there are groups trying to have this film banned. These same groups could claim a share of the credit for the early success of this film. Such groups would be infinitely better served to have kept their mouths shut and let this film run its course, without all the free publicity they've now furnished.

Of course, these groups will claim that this film violates the spirit of campaign finance reform, but trying to actively ban a commercial film because of political content, no matter how inaccurate it may be, just sends a chill through my mind.

Moore's film is not a documentary in any classic sense; think of it more as an op-ed film (a category more befitting to many so-called documentaries).

Speaking of which, if such groups really want a target, they might try going after my favorite hometown news source, which published the first newspaper endorsement of John Kerry on June 16. I have known The Philadelphia Daily News (a.k.a. "The People Paper")to be a left-leaning paper, but their early endorsement is obviously motivated by an overall effort to campaign for the Democratic contender. Despite my lack of interest in George W. Bush's policies, the blatancy of their editorial effort made me uneasy. I went ahead and linked to a reprint of the piece here, as I know how most people feel about registration sites. Go ahead and read it to see what I'm referring to, and see if you agree.

That's all for now.

Moore Film Title Angers Author

I came across the above link while trudging through the Drudge Report site a few minutes ago, and I thought is was interesting. As a longtime fan of Ray Bradbury, I have mixed feelings.

One reason is that I do think Michael Moore's choice of movie title is absolutely intended to help him feed off the concept of Bradbury's classic story, but as far as I know copyright protection does not extend to titles. That's something we learned early on in journalism courses, as we covered the ever-important concept of plagiarism.

Now, I'm not entirely sure how this plays out when / if the main concept of a title is used specifically to capitalize on the original author's concept -- so there might be a violation in this case, though it may not be a copyright issue, so much as an issue of intellectual property, an area where I have very little knowledge.

The article mentions that Bradbury, as I would have suspected, is a registered independent, so it's hard to tell if Bradbury's opposition to Moore's title is politically rooted. Still, to think of how many authors, film-makers and other various creative minds have borrowed similar concepts, I have a hard time seeing that Moore is violating any accepted standard by using the word "Fahrenheit" in his film title.

Granted, Moore's assertion that his title symbolizes the "temperature at which freedom burns" is hardly analogous, but nobody ever said a title had to make sense.

Saw a movie yesterday. Actually, it was a documentary called Supersize Me. This was basically, for those who haven't heard of it yet, the real-life story of a courageous man who committed himself to the all-McDonald's diet for a full month.

I thought it was an interesting film, mostly because it didn't confine itself to picking on fast food restaurants. Director Morgan Spurlock, the brave lab rat, along with forcing himself to eat only things that could be bought over a McDonaldland counter (under intensive medical monitoring), also delved into several other aspects of our obesity-challenged society. He examined institutional contributors such as the average school lunch and lack of common knowledge on what types of foods are actually healthy. I used to think nobody could be ignorant enough to not understand that too much fast food is unhealthy, until I saw a few man-on-the-street type interviews in which the subjects obviously had no clue. Then, as less common aspects of processed foods were uncovered, I started to realize that I really didn't know that much either.
One inconsistency that was brought up was the idea that many McDonald's restaurants have no readily available nutritional information, either posted or in pamphlet form. Such information is always available on the web, which is nice, unless you're in one of the majority of American households without access to a personal computer or the internet (keeping in mind that many of the lower income folks without these resources are among those more likely to frequent a fast food joint).

Another intriguing inconsistency is that while no fast food company has been successfully sued for causing obesity, Congress saw the need to pass a law prohibiting such suits. Which leads me to wonder, if this type of court case is so baseless, why the need to pass legislation that categorically outlaws it? It seems odd that the U.S. legislative body has seen fit, in this isolated instance, to specifically protect a group of corporations that coincidentally fall under the same lobbying umbrella. Hmmm...

Overall, the film was interesting, and informative, with a touch of humor. I don't believe, as some viewers might, that we need to spend much governmental energy protecting people from their own bad habits, but I do think that people can protect themselves by learning more about the effects of what they do to their bodies. I say this as someone who has made his share of visits to the land of the golden arches (and knows he probably shouldn't), and I can say this little documentary is likely to affect the frequency of my future visits.

"Here in America we are descended in blood and in spirit from revolutionists and rebels - men and women who dare to dissent from accepted doctrine. As their heirs, may we never confuse honest dissent with disloyal subversion."
-Dwight D. Eisenhower

So, it appears that while Michael Moore doesn't have enough allies in the American film industry, the folks at Cannes are loving his work. I don't know about the veracity of Moore's claims that the refusal of big American cinema to carry his film is indicative of any conspiracy, but I do think it should be allowed to be seen. Judging by this review on the BBC site, it seems possible many viewers of his latest documentary might agree with Disney's decision to drop the film.

Still, his brand of dissent should not be muzzled by anything other than the market itself. Which is why Moore should seriously consider following the example of another Hollywood insider who recently bucked a great deal of critical controversy to bring his film to the public. I am, of course, referring to Mel Gibson's gamble on The Passion of the Christ, which has now taken a perch among the highest grossing films ever. I'm sure there are many Hollywood executives who are now regretting not backing Gibson's film. Gibson risked a lot to make the movie, and he is now reaping much more than he risked in the first place.

So, if Michael Moore truly believes in his most recent work, he's probably got the cash to help bring it to the American audience. I'll probably see it, mostly because I've noticed among all the interesting absurdities in Moore's body of work, there are sure to be a handful of intriguing concepts to keep my mind buzzing for a day or two, right up until I dismiss most of it as the spawn of an overactive director's imagination.

So, if there's anyone out there fearing the release of Fahrenheit 9/11, I hope their paranoia is not so great as to lend credibility to Moore's charges. And if you believe in your cause - I'm sorry, I meant to say film - Mr. Moore, I'm sure you can get it released, probably even before election day.

A couple weeks ago, at the 130th running of the Kentucky Derby, horse racing's most prestigious single event, Smarty Jones made more than a handful of my co-workers several hundred dollars each. I confess to a little regret, at least temporarily, that I didn't suspend my own reservations about gambling to take part in the race track profiteering. Especially as a Philly guy, I was thinking about it, but I didn't.

The truth is, up until today, I'd never even seen an entire horse race, unless you count the staged contests in the movie Seabiscuit, which offers interesting parallels. It's not a mirror image story, but it's similar in that a it involves small horse from an unheralded venue with an unheralded jockey, going undefeated in the first eight races of his career. He even had to overcome a devastating injury along the way. And his victory at Pimlico today was similar in margin to the images of the race between Seabiscuit and War Admiral at the same track seventy years ago. And the third-place horse today was ridden by the same jockey (three-time Kentucky Derby winner Gary Stevens) who made his acting debut as the jockey who rode Seabiscuit in the showdown with War Admiral.

So this was the first time I've ever watched a real horse race, and there was some exhilaration as I saw Smarty just run away from the rest of the field down the stretch. I'm not sure if that means I like horse racing. Maybe I was just happy to see a horse from the hometown track win another big race and take another step toward the elusive triple crown.

I didn't have anything compelling or incisive to offer this afternoon, but I have been meaning to mention one of our local Philadelphia icons for a couple weeks now -- I wanted to preserve this mention for a Saturday, in case anyone out there within range is interested in listening to a particular show about movies.

"Steve Friedman is Mr. Movie and he plays in Philadelphia Saturday nights on the Big Talker 1210 AM." - So begins his capsulated bio on the 1210 AM website. Mr. Movie is a title he reminds listeners he didn't give to himself -- he is known by the title because he has an eerily encyclopedic memory when it comes to movies. I once called his show just to find out the name of a movie, when all I could recall about it was a scene with a woman in a phone booth being threatened by a man lighting matches. Thanks to him, I found out the name of the film was Charade, a movie he reminded me was often called "the best suspense movie Hitchcock never made."

He holds court with the callers for three hours a week, starting at 10 every Saturday night. He's surprisingly non-judgmental for someone who knows so much about movies, and especially for someone who's made a living as a critic -- that is to say, he never makes his callers sound stupid, no matter how much he disagrees with their taste in cinema.

He's unofficially syndicated, as his station's 50,000 watt signal can be heard in parts of 38 states and much of Canada. I used to think this was an empty boast, until I tuned into the same Philly talk station while driving through Illinois a few summers back.

So I guess it's a bit of a suggestion, if you're into movies, and you're in one of those many places where his voice can reach you through the night air. You can turn the knob to 1210 on the AM dial around 10 pm (EDT), if you're curious, and you may be able to catch a dose of the longest continuously-running radio talk show about movies.

Hollywood can rest easy again.

It appears the little movie about a man who was resurrected from the dead has finally been dethroned, strangely enough, by another movie about people being brought back from the dead (though not quite to the same effect).

I saw a movie this weekend called The Fog of War. Apparently only two of the people who showed up to see it knew it was going to be a documentary (judging by the group exodus of about a dozen other relatively young moviegoers after only a few minutes -- I guess they came in expecting an action flick). Anyway, regardless of the prejudgment by some of my fellow spectators, I thought the movie was quite good; but then, I have always enjoyed boring movies, depending on who you ask.

The movie is basically a narrative by Robert McNamara (Secretary of Defense during the Kennedy and Johnson administrations), guided by questions from the unseen film maker, whose name, I'm sorry to say, I can't remember just now. All the visuals are from film and news reels, still photos, and well strung-together stock footage, as well as video of Mr. McNamara himself being interviewed.

I can't remember half of what I found fascinating about the film, but it was thoroughly intriguing to me, and the fact that there were more points of interest than I can readily recall tells me it was a good film. I am stuck with a video clip in my mind of Lyndon Johnson trying to explain the Vietnam conflict in a manner eerily similar to some explanations I swear I've heard from George W. Bush. But maybe that was just the folksy, Texas accent affecting my perception.

Anyway, I just wanted to mention that, for anyone who, like me, enjoys boring documentary films.

There are two situations in which I find it difficult to write anything new. One occurs when there's nothing going through my head at all. The other, when there's too much going through my head. And the latter often makes it much more difficult than the former; which can be frustrating.
The frustration lies in knowing that I have something in my mind just begging to be set free, but I either can't figure it out, or I simply can't reduce it to words. It's actually slightly easier when I feel like my mind is empty, maybe because there's no crowd of ideas trampling each other -- so when an idea strolls along, I can identify it and concentrate on it with relative ease. But, on the other hand, if no ideas happen upon my consciousness, it just remains empty.

I had thought about commenting on Senator John Edwards' difficulty in reconciling his "two Americas" theme with his own personal wealth, but I can't get fired up about that just yet.

Then I was contemplating a rant about the Oscars and how I detest awards shows. I mean, do I really need a bunch of rich, obnoxious Hollywood types to validate my taste in movies? I liked the Lord of the Rings trilogy very much, thank you. I think the story is an all-time classic, and I didn't need the Academy's blessing to feel comfortable with my opinion (-- I guess that qualifies as a mini-rant, at least).

Anyway, the well is otherwise dry at the moment, due to my lack of creative focus. I guess I could've just left it at that.

I have just seen the new film from Mel Gibson -- a little film called The Passion of the Christ.

I have many thoughts on the film, ranging from my take on the allegations of anti-Semitism in the media to my feelings (as one of the world's billion or so Christians) on why the film needed to be as gruesome as it was.

However, I'm not sure I want to go into detail on these thoughts. In short, if you are a Christian, and you want to remind yourself of what you claim to believe, you should watch this film. If you are not a Christian and are unlikely to convert to Christianity, you may just end up with a very cynical opinion of this movie. If you are curious about what Christianity entails, this movie offers a pretty good idea of the central concepts.

Other than that, I'll abstain from further review.