Tag Archives: Writing

What Does Beasts Of No Nation Mean?

Netflix’s big splash into original films is a movie about the loss of innocence 

There are a lot of ways this could be answered, particularly because there are a lot of ways it could be asked. What Netflix’s first bonafide Oscar launch attempt means for the future of film distribution, for opportunistic auteurs, or for big studios and multiplexes. A lot of that is boring and almost all of it is speculative. Online streaming sites and apps will only be able to create more and more quality TV and films for the foreseeable future; that much we know. Beasts alternative release plan of simultaneous theatrical and online release was enough of a rebellion from status quo for major U.S. theatre chains such as AMC and Regal to boycott the film. Thus, the $6 million dollar film made less than $60,000 at the box office – but that pain is eased by the reported $12 million Netflix forked over for distribution rights. It’s hard to say how much of, if at all, a thorn in the side of Hollywood this trend could be. Frankly, I don’t actually care. On the other hand, Beasts of No Nation may be the shot that’s ending a cinematic cold war.

Beasts director, writer, co-producer, and cinematographer Cary Fukunaga, who you may remember as the director of that one good season of True Detective (ahh, memories), has a knack for gorgeous images. In fact, most of his resume is work as cinematographer on short films and documentaries. So it comes as no surprise that Beasts of No Nation is a hearty buffet of vividly colored frames. In those frames is, most notably Idris Elba, as the ‘Commandant’ of the rebel militia that captures our young Agu (played by Ghanian actor Abraham Attah) after his father and brother are killed trying to escape the government troops. Elba’s Commandant assumes Agu’s father’s figure as he shapes him into one of the many child-warriors in his battalion. Agu is conditioned with violence and brainwashed with wartime rhetoric. He witnesses unspeakable cruelty and is the victim of heinous acts. Through these ordeals we begin to understand the lust for killing brewing in these children as a natural reaction to trauma. After his Commandant who he had begun to trust and admire, sexually assaults Agu, squeezing a trigger and screaming feels almost therapeutic. This is the films greatest triumph; humanizing the warped mind. Screen Shot 2015-10-20 at 12.11.12 PM

Beasts location in Africa is kept completely anonymous and despite criticism for it painting Africa with a violent generalization, artistically it’s a very defendable move. The anonymity helps immerse us in Agu’s innocent perspective. To a child it matters not what sovereign nation they are in or fighting. They have no choice or say in the matter and are more or less blind to politics. What matters to them is simply surviving, family, and happiness. Even the grass and fauna is well above Agu’s head, it makes sense that his perspective of the war would not be greater. The lack of context for the atrocities creates a vacuum of nihilism for there is no purpose, only victims.

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Everest, The Martian, and When Films About Risk Play It Safe

Visual spectacle can’t overcome lack of substance in Hollywood’s last gasp of summer

Recently I spent a better part of September meandering about France with my girlfriend (humble-brag or just normal brag?). Pristine Alps, ancient ruins, feats of architecture – you name it, it was beheld. However, I’ve never been a big ‘sights’ guy. This is because, as someone who lives within an average work commute to one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World, I believe you can and will become numb to any ‘sight’s’ beauty if exposed long enough. I know, cynical right? But just ask the people of Agra what they think of the Taj Mahal, or Chicagoans about the Cloud Gate (the bean thing). But what’s not cynical is the belief that absorption into a person, an idea, or a culture, is endless and endlessly more stimulating. Something, director Baltasar Kormákur would appear not to believe while making Everest.

Everest is a film about a mountain, but the story is about people – a lot of people. Based on Jon Krakauer’s best-selling account of the 1996 Mount Everest Disaster, Into Thin Air, Everest stars, well, a lot of stars. Jason Clarke appears to be the lead as he plays the New Zealand-bred Rob Hall, leader of Adventure Consultants, one of the groups tasked with escorting their climbing clients up to the top of the world. Josh Brolin, John Hawkes, and Michael Kelly – as journalist Krakauer – among others, take up roles as Adventure Consultant’s clients. Opposite Clarke is Jake Gyllenhaal as the resident shirtless and super-chilled-out-brah ski-bum, but also Scott Fischer, leader of the Mountain Madness adventure travel service. Emily Watson and Sam Worthington reside back at one of the many base camps relaying messages for a better part of the film, while Keira Knightley and Robin Wright play worried wife half-a-world-away for Clarke and Brolin respectively.

Grand Himalayan eye-candy is strewn about Everest, intercutting each new dramatization and pandering to 3D technology. It’s gorgeous and daunting, and helps to put in perspective the scale of such a venture. As our teams make their way from base camp to base camp acclimating to the altitude, we learn bits about where they’re from and why they’re here. What we don’t learn however is who they are. Characters are sketched haphazardly, defining them by their periphery relationships instead of delving into their psyche through dialogue and actions. Instead of zeroing in on a select few characters, the film casts a wide net, trying to give everyone their moments and their stories. As we ascend up the mountain, through the haze of snow blindness, goggles, and full-body snowsuits, keeping up with the large ensemble becomes confusing. The film’s flurrying attempt to include everyone casts a disorienting vibe over the second half of the film. This results in a lack of genuine emotional investment and participation from the audience. It’s also told from no particular perspective. Not using author and journalist Jon Krakauer’s point of view more, played by the instantly likable and relatable Michael Kelly, feels like a missed opportunity. The film slowly begins to feel like a mic’d up nature doc. everest-movie-review-1-750x400

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What’s Wrong with Season Two of True Detective?

Season Two of Nic Pizzolatto’s anthology crime drama is experiencing a sophomore slump, but did it ever have a chance?

Rarely does a show experience such groaning disappointment and fervent ‘trending’ anticipation all at once. This combo has crowned into a hysterical mob of cultural sadism, like a car crash, or say, an overwrought mass shootout you can’t turn away from. Critics reveling from their mezzanines, throwing tomatoes with one hand and tossing popcorn into their cackling mouths with the other. Social media has been a schoolyard beat down of jokes poking at everything from the confusing plot to the faux mysteriousness of its characters.

There was nowhere to go but down, and in retrospect, we should all be kicking ourselves for being so optimistically hyped about the succeeding season of Nic Pizzolatto’s True Detective. What did we really think was gonna happen after Fukunaga departed. Rustin Cohle would be laughing at our blind hopefulness. image

This is the part of the article where one gives a quick run-through of the shows premise. Easier said than done. Ok so, um, well you have Ray Velcoro (Colin Farrell), an alcoholic detective in Vinci, an industrial municipality run by corporations. He’s going through some child custody drama but more importantly is bent to the whim of Frank Semyon (Vince Vaughn), dirty mob entrepreneur trying to go clean, due to a past favor. Ani Bezzeredes (Rachel McAdams) is rough-around-the-edges cop possibly dealing with some repressed sexual issues due to having been raised on some sort of spiritual commune. And then there’s Paul Woodrugh (Taylor Kitsch) former seen-some-things armed forces motorcycle cop who’s struggling to stay in the closet.

These characters are brought together by the brutal murder of Ben Caspere, city manager and business partner of Semyon. Semyon entrusted Caspere with $5 million for a legitimizing high speed rail project, which he finds out Caspere embezzled before his death, causing Frank to lose most his fortune and faith of potential investors and developers. Velcoro is sent by Semyon to investigate, while simulataneously put on the case by the Vinci PD along with Bezzerides and Woodrugh. As a result, feathers are ruffled, alliances are tested. 
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I Watched the Original Mad Max So That You Don’t Have To

Most Americans upon seeing a 15-second commercial for some new dirt-storm, four-wheeled, perhaps racing? or escaping? gaudy, kinda scary-lookin’, possibly Charlize Theron starring? summer blockbuster movie titled Mad Max: Fury Road, shouldn’t be blamed for sighing “Is this a Death Race thing?” or “More Fast and the Furious rip-offs huh?” Even I, upon just a brief Wikipedia browsing, realized I had much to learn about this Somewhat-peeved Maximilian.

For instance, there are already two sequels to the original Mad Max (1979): Mad Max 2: Road Warrior(1981)(presumably Weekend Warrior was taken) and Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome(1985)(all-time great ’80s action movie title).  In addition, these are Australian films, not American films set in Australia but filmed in a place in Arizona that looks kinda like Australia.  American audiences slurped up these V8 movies and helped make them a lot of Dingos, or whatever they call money down there; nonetheless, they were shot in Australia, by an Australian director, with an Australian cast.

A clean-cut, unemotive Mel Gibson plays Max (Mel grew up in Westchester County, New York until the age of 12 when he moved to Sydney). That’s right, a baby-faced Mel, unaware of the evils of The Jews and presumably unenchanted with the violence of the Christ. Mel is so innocent looking in this film, that it’s almost hard to imagine him developing into the unhinged monster we see today. But in retrospect, his strangely aloof and sometimes awkward performance in this movie now seems like a red flag for ‘Insane Person Inside Syndrome.’

Nevertheless, I watched the very first Mad Max. And I must say, time has not done it any favors.  It didn’t do itself any favors either, with a meandering plot, seemingly disjointed scenes, chaotic pacing, and just fucking strange acting. I say strange acting because some of these scenes include such bizarre facial expressions that it’s hard for me to imagine a director allowing them if it wasn’t for some comedic or surreal effect. But by far the most egregiously improbable element of this movie is how everyone just willingly wears leather pants in the heat of the Australian Outback, I mean c’mon. The whole film felt like an uncomfortable acid trip inside of a Hot Wheels play-set. But I digress, I’m going to give you the viewer’s digest of this film, to spare you.


4:48 – Big surprise, the film starts off with a car chase. One of the Main Force Patrol (these are the good guys) aka The Police in dystopian Australia, spins out. Chubby cop kicks his fucked-up hood and tosses it on the ground in frustration, like a child. This is what I imagine parallel universe Dukes of Hazzard is like.Screen Shot 2015-05-13 at 2.53.32 PMThey’re chasing a guy called “Nightrider” (no, not that Knight Rider) who is maniacally laughing as he drives with his pink-haired, Hot-Topic girlfriend alongside him.

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Is The Tonight Show Really That Bad?

This is late night check-in, a feature where I watch a full week of one talk show and discuss how it was. Last week I watched “The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon”, from 4/27 to 5/1.

The Tonight Show has taken a lot of flack over the past few years. Since the Conan-Leno debacle and the backlash against the latter, The Tonight Show is no longer the cultural touchstone it once was (when every conceivable adult in America gathered around a television to watch Johnny Carson.) Today, there are plenty of late night options to choose from with no real king – though it’s easy to argue that Jimmy Fallon could claim such a title. His incarnation of the show is currently the highest rated late night talk show. His YouTube channel has 7 million subscribers with nearly 3 billion total views and produces at least one viral video per week.

A lot of comedy nerds will tell you The Tonight Show is crap. There’s no comedy, it’s just a bunch of meandering games, etc. Andrés du Bouchet, a long-time writer for Conan, recently caught some heat for tweeting about his dissatisfaction regarding the aforementioned. “Comedy in 2015 needs a severe motherfucking shakeup,” he said in a now deleted tweet. “No celebrities, no parodies, no pranks, no mash-ups or hashtag wars. I’m fat.”

So how much of that is accurate? The current incarnation of The Tonight Show features a regular dose of celebrity-based comedy, parodies and mash-ups. There’s few pranks and certainly no hashtag wars but the show does feature Tonight Show Hashtags (we’ll get to that later.) How much of this is pandering to the audience and how much is actual comedy? What’s to be expected when you watch a full week of The TonightShow?

First things first. Jimmy Fallon has come a long way since his nervous, jittery Late Night debut six years ago. He’s now a seasoned performer with all the chops necessary for being a talk show host. Like all good talk show hosts, he’s crafted a niche for himself. Fallon is an entertainer, ideally one for the whole family. He’s immensely positive and likable. It’s hard to hate a guy who wants the audience both at home and in studio to have fun. Both the show and its host are completely devoid of cynicism.

His monologue at the top of the show is quick, efficient and confident. Like Conan, Fallon tends to act out things at the end of jokes. His chameleon-like impressions can elevate a joke further or even save a particularly bad one. He’ll riff and improvise with his sidekick, Steve Higgins, and it’s usually pretty good. And anytime The Roots chime in, it’s just icing on the cake.

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A Month After Its Release, We Grapple with TPAB’s Place

Illmatic or It Was Written? Ready to Die or Life After Death? Slim Shady LP or Marshall Mathers LP? Food & Liquor or The Cool? good kid, m.A.A.d city or To Pimp a Butterfly?

The prophecy has been foretold, and foretold, and foretold. The savior, who drops two classics, then disappoints us, and if he’s truly the savior, makes up for it in the long run (see: Nas). But I’m not going to postulate about the future for Kendrick, instead lets appreciate what this particular prodigy has done. When I first heard To Pimp a Butterfly I was positive it was better than GKMC. This was what I had been waiting for, where parts of GKMC left me yearning for just a little more, I now felt satisfied.

TPAB is not an album you can taste in one sip, or even one glass. It requires intensive, diligent and repeated consumption. You will change your mind again, and again, and again, about elements of it. Second albums by the prodigious rap star are always sprawling attempts to recapture the spirit of the first, while proving that they can do even better. They usually lash out at a force bigger than themselves and puff out their chest at anyone trying to tell them anything. This is where Kendrick separates himself. Where most have taken this moment to give the world an angst-y middle finger and stomp up their gorgeous marble spiral staircase and slam their heavy double doors, Kendrick only blames himself. With armor-piercing self-awareness, he blames himself for even the possibility that fame and wealth has changed him, for even the potential for him to be corrupted. It’s a bleak but cautionary parable from a future self, sent to forewarn of the self-loathing guilt that will await him should he betray Compton. Don’t play the victim, be responsible for “U” he infers; this is a common theme throughout.

After a year full of #BlackLivesMatter and #ICantBreath you’d think Kendrick would aim some, if not most, of his fire-breathing passion at institutional racism on his 16 track, hour-plus slam poetry funk record. But somehow he didn’t. It’s perplexing at best, and irresponsible at worst. Okay, to be fair there is “The Blacker the Berry”. But it’s hard to tell how much of that anger is aimed at himself, and how much is at the system that “hates him” when he begins and ends the song with calling himself a hypocrite. His stream-of-consciousness flow wrestles with issues of black self-love and hypocrisy throughout the album. Symbolically, on “i” he addresses the importance self-esteem, and then when the dramatized live crowd causes a ruckus he lectures them about the word “nigga”. It’s clumsy, but it’s also about perspective. About when you’re in the heat of the moment, step back and see the bigger picture. Where GKMC weaved its way through the nooks and crannies of the city, TPAB weaves through the psyche of young Kendrick like a parasitic epiphany; an epiphany that is heavily centered on Black unity and cultural appreciation.

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Is Chattanooga The South’s Silicon Valley?

As I sit inside a café built into a once abandoned warehouse perusing a craft beer menu, I have to remind myself that I’m south of the Mason-Dixon. The warehouse district in Chattanooga, Tennessee, known as Warehouse Row, is filled with modern cafés, Pilates and yoga studios, and artisanal boutiques. It’s something you might not expect to come from a small city bordering deep red states Alabama and Georgia.

The bartender sets my draft on a refrigerated strip of bar top, a neat little innovation. The menu is full of southern comfort food, biscuits, mac ‘n’ cheese, and fried chicken; but it’s the ‘goat cheese’ grits that have caught my attention. Long story short, delicious; and it all adds up to this curious juxtaposition of slightly snobby southern comfort.

That weekend I spent in Chattanooga a comic-con, known as Chatta-con was being held in the convention center downtown. After indulging in some people-watching in the lobby of my hotel, I met a photographer who told me the best way to get around downtown is the “free electric shuttle system.” What is this the Google campus? The shuttles, which look just like your everyday city bus, run on electricity and use easy-to-replace battery packs. In addition, some “smart buses” offer free wifi. Oh, and it’s FREE to ride.

Now, I’m just a good ole northern boy and this kind of techno-stuff can leave me a tad befuddled. So when the FCC passed its net neutrality bill last week, we decided to take a closer look.

Chattanooga, Tennessee is faster than you. For less than $70 a month, consumers enjoy an ultrahigh-speed fiber-optic connection that transfers data as instant pulses of light rather than signals over a metal cable. These fiber-optic cables send data at one gigabit per second. That is 50 times the average speed for homes in the rest of the country.

Wow this is great, which private corporation made this possible? Don’t tell me, don’t tell me…..Enron is making a comeback?! No, actually it’s Chattanooga itself. The City of Chattanooga owns a public utility company, Electric Power Board (EPB). Only about 2,000 cities in the U.S. have community owned electric utilities, and only a handful of those include public internet as a utility. Chattanooga is the first to install a fiber-optic network for its public internet services. This began when they received an $111 million federal stimulus grant, which gave them the ability to expedite construction of a fiber-optic network.

YOU MEAN OBAMA HAS MADE MY BELOVED TENNESSEE SOCIALIST???

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Ships in the Night

Hibachi

The number of people on earth greatly out number the places to visit. It is not strange to think that we have been in multiple places with the same people and not recognize them.

The tour group of prospective students proceeded along the University’s side walk.

“This building on our left is Clet Hall.” The junior tour guide announced. “This is where all of the chemistry majors play scientist.”

In the middle of the group was Derek. Next to Derek was his mother who’s nose was buried in a catalog for the college.

“It’s nice to walk around in a t-shirt in October. The tree’s are so beautiful up here.” Derek said to his mother.

“Did you see this Derek? They have a hibachi grill down in the cafeteria. You love Chinese food.”

“Are you serious?”

In the front of the group were Maggie and her mother. Maggie’s mother could stop asking pertinent questions to the tour guide, such as the library hours, campus police routes, and healthiest snack machines on campus. The tour guide stared slack jawed and continued on with the tour.

“Get familiar with Clet Hall honey. Your Nobel Prize research will be conducted there.”

“Mother, please.” Maggie could feel the other parent’s cold stare. Her mothers goading about her always made Maggie feel uncomfortable. “All I can do is my best, mother.”

“…And your best will no doubt lead to a Nobel Prize. Right? Right?”

“Yes, mother.” Maggie sighed.

“Excuse me,” A mother of another tour guide child tapped Maggie’s mother on the shoulder, “Maybe you should get through the tour before you write her Nobel Prize acceptance speech. We are trying to listen to Theodore.”

Maggie’s mother slowly turned around. She examined the bold mother and her son.

“Physical Education Major? The Community College is across town.” The other mother gasped and Maggie’s mother enjoyed her victory.

“Who is Theodore?” She asked Maggie, who pointed up to the tour guide.

“Does anybody have any other questions?” Theodore asked, refusing to make eye contact with Maggie’s mother. “Yes, boy in the blue stripped shirt.”

“Yes, the catalog mentions that there is a hibachi grill on campus. What days are it open?” Derek asked.

“Unfortunately, due to a fire hazard from last semester and the deportation of Chef Ne Foo, the hibachi grill will be closed until the spring semester. Alright, let’s check out the boys and girls dorms, which are not co-ed.”

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Too York?

Why the Southern Tier of New York wants to secede Pennsylvania

Wow, this part of New York looks like Pennsylvania. Wow, this part of New York may become Pennsylvania. Not really. But, the idea is out there. Fifteen towns in the Southern tier of New York announced that they would consider seceding from the Empire State to join their more conservative and depressed citizens of Pennsylvania. I am from Upstate New York and yes, I am sick of meeting people from other states and being asked “how many other families lived in my apartment growing up” or “how many times I have been mugged” but secession would be very foolish for these communities.

There is no question about it Upstate New Yorkers and Downstate New Yorkers are different. They are different culturally, ideologically, and financially. Upstate still holds onto late 19th century neo-liberal ideology of private institutions such as the family, and church to govern and administer community issues. Downstate takes a more modern utilitarian systems approach to solving problems. The city has made a huge comeback since the 1970’s. Upstate continues to struggle, even though Buffalo is on a serious rebound. There is also a representative issue. Most NYS legislators are from Downstate districts.

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Upstate feels ripped off. First the city uses us for the Erie Canal then hangs us out to dry. Now they won’t let us poison our water with hydro-fracking OR poison our communities with casinos. On top of all that I have to pay ridiculously high taxes that are probably going to welfare recipients Downstate who are too lazy to work and are just cheating the system. Right.

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The Conclusion of Parks and Recreation Marks the End of an Empire

Once upon a time, NBC had a comedy lineup that looked a little something like this: Community, 30 Rock, The Office, Parks and Recreation. That’s a murderer’s row of sitcoms that were consistently brilliant. Each one of these shows will end up in the comedy museum of all-time greats. They will influence an entire generation of fans and writers. Mission accomplished? Not for NBC. Since the ratings behemoth Friends went off the air in 2004, NBC has tried and failed to recreate the magic of Jennifer Anniston gallivanting in Manhattan. Instead, they accidentally green-lit a handful of low-rated, critically acclaimed gems with incredibly loyal fan bases. Each show made money, but not enough to satisfy NBC, the network that once ruled the world. Tomorrow night, Parks and Recreation will air its series finale, and the NBC comedy empire will come to an end.

NBC’s dedication to create a comedy “hit” has resulted in a long line of one-season blunders. Rather than try and build something that would at the very least command some respect, NBC aimed low (“Not low enough,” Chuck Lorre said, laughing atop his pile of money.) The premises for these shows are abysmal. It’s confounding that anyone thought it would make a good television show. To name a few, in alphabetical order: 1600 Penn (“What if a dysfunctional family…” a young, hopeful writer said. “Lived in the White House?”), Animal Practice (“It’s like Scrubs, but with a monkey!”), Bad Judge (“What if there was a hard partying, tough-as-nails judge…that was a GIRL?!”), Free Agents (“What if two PR executives divorce something something Hank Azaria?”). You get the idea.

bad-judge

Look, networks fuck up all the time. They order terrible pilots to series. It’s been this way for a very long time. But NBC’s dedication to consistent failure has a lot to do with their quest for ratings – their desire to create a “hit” on the scale of The Big Bang Theory, or perhaps make it 1997 again through science or magic [1]. But in the fractured landscape of television viewing, hits are becoming increasingly rare. It’s become impossible to predict [2] what will become a ratings giant. The best you can hope for is a lineup that NBC had; the one seen above. The low rated[3] misfit shows breaking the mold for what single-camera comedy could be after Arrested Development set sail.

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