• The Players:
Sidney Lumet
Sidney Lumet
Five time (::copious amounts of teeth sucking::) also-ran for a Best Director Oscar. In what universe does the director of mother fucking Network NOT win the best director Oscar? Seriously? And, you know I love me some Rocky (the winner), but like, it wasn’t the direction driving that bus. It was the fucking script. The fucking I’m-so-broke-I-got-nothing-to-lose script drove that bus all the way to Fuck Yeah City. John G. Avildsen. Playa, we go way back and I’ll always love you for getting me through the chicken pox with your awesome film, but like, I’m sorry that’s Sid’s Oscar on your shelf.
I’m gonna need to take a Pirin tablet before I can continue with this entry.
Okay.
Oh yeah, he’s also Lena Horne’s former son-in-law, hopefully that explains her fantabulous appearance in The Wiz. Nepotism FTW! And damn, she raged the hell out of her six or so minutes of screen time.
Like most black folks – at least in my fantagical version of the black folk narrative (said in a Booming Earl Jones voice), when really it’s probably just my sister and me – I came to know of Lumet through The Wiz and the giddy seven year old in me still gleefully mispronounces his name “LUM ET” instead of “LOO-MET” the correct pronunciation.
We used to chant “LUM ET LUM ET” while watching the opening credits of The Wiz and tossing Cabby (my sister’s CPK) in the air.
We also thought he was black.
He had to be, because in our childish way we assumed black folks had to be at the helm of shit this money. It would be years before we were introduced to Teena Marie, Hall & Oates, Roger Ebert, Young Americans era Bowie, racial and sexual dynamics in Hollywood or the concept of white folks and black folks collaborating to harness the power of pure awesome in service of pop culture.
So I wasn’t exactly ready for Network when my mother sat me down to watch it. The sheer paucity of Anthony Johnson booty shakers, jive ass trash talking crows and Diana Ross wearing my mom’s 3rd Sunday church dress (seriously, she had that damn dress!) confused me. This just wasn’t our Sid! Where was the “posterior prison” we had come to know and finally understand? Where was the metal Pryor head complete with a faithfully detailed ‘fro?
I got over it and moved on to Serpico and Dog Day Afternoon. The former became something of a life handbook for me as I came to believe faux Frank and I were simpatico and found him a model of how to navigate the minefield of saboteurs, the soul crushing reversals of fortunes and conspiracies of Wiesbaden Middle School.
Sydney Pollack
Sydney Pollack
Academy Award-winning director, producer and quite the actor! Oddly enough his sole directing Oscar is for a film I will probably NEVER WATCH. (Out of Africa)
4. I do not like costume dramas or any kind of movie where fucking happens but sanitation/bathing is sketchy. This means that Out of Africa is the only Pollack film I will not watch. I’ll be strapped to a chair watching Random Hearts on loop before I’ll ever watch Out of Africa.
-from a previous post
This is a terrible admission since I adore his work and while not generally given to gratuitously adverb-ing, I sobbed hysterically in a Barnes & Noble parking lot on my way to pick up a copy of the deliciously shittastic remake of Sabrina when I heard the news of his passing. I was chair dancing for a second when Terry Gross said she’d be replaying an interview with Pollack on what would turn out to be a rather sad May afternoon – for me anyway. Quickly remembered the subject of previous “best of” interview – Studs Terkel – and as Terry said the words …he died today – my eyes filled, forehead seared itself to the steering wheel and my shoulders began their inevitable loop of liftoff/touchdown.
Sydney led to me to his Gingerbread house with a gumdrop called The Way We Were. Of course, I knew the song before I knew the movie. I was staunchly Team Katie in my early 20s, with my self righteous politics, “tall” personality and inability to get pretty boys to like me for extended periods of time. After a recent viewing I am totally on Team Hubbell having grown increasingly intolerant of folks who have a clear understanding of who you are and sign that contract (under NO duress) at the start of a relationship and then have the cheek to later be all crockery tossing when you won’t – you know – BE different. Like it’s your fucking problem they didn’t fully appreciate how much you NOT changing was going to burn their home fries.
From TWWW it was a forever thing with me and Sydney. I like me some Pollack so much that I suffered through the needles-in-eyes Patrick Dempsey vehicle Made of Honor solely for the precious moments of Sydney glazing the ham like church ladies on Easter Sunday.
In fact, as much as I love watching his directing efforts, I relish his acting efforts. Hey, while it might be true, nobody does vegetables like Michael Dorsey, it’s also true that nobody does delicious scene stealing like Pollack.
Sydney actually getting TWO facial expressions out of Harrison Ford
Selected Filmography – Lumet
12 Angry Men, The Pawnbroker, Fail-Safe, The Group, The Appointment, THE ANDERSON TAPES. THE VERDICT, Murder on the Orient Express, Dog Day Afternoon, Network, THE WIZ, Prince of the City, THE VERDICT, Deathtrap (which I haven’t seen!!!), DANIEL, Power, THE MORNING AFTER, RUNNING ON EMPTY, BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU’RE DEAD
Selected Filmography – Pollack
THEY SHOOT HORSES, DON’T THEY?, Jeremiah Johnson, The Way We Were, THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR, The Yakuza, THE ELECTRIC HORSEMAN, ABSENCE OF MALICE, Toostie*, The Firm, The Player*, Eyes Wide Shut*, The Sopranos*, Michael Clayton*+. Made of Honor*
• How they work with actors
Both Lumet and Pollack have directed Paul Newman, yielding intergalactic performances in the films The Verdict and Absence of Malice respectively. If you have not seen these films, as your blogger, I strongly urge you to check into the Tropicana and also view these films.
I think of them as directors who really align themselves with their actors and emphasize character development and chemistry, which makes even their clunkier movies worth watching. Even if the movies themselves have a stink reminiscent of a construction site Johnny-on-the-spot – I’m looking at you, Havana (Pollack) and Power (Lumet) – the acting generally won’t.
Lumet really encourages actors to frame themselves in ways that are unfamiliar to the audience. I’m not even talking about casting them in “against type” roles here. Look, Newman can light into nuanced grit like it owes him fucking money. And for corn’s sake, boozy, down-on-their-luck-lawyers-with-hearts-of-gold-plating are certainly no novelty. But under Lumet’s careful direction Newman’s work in The Verdict is messy, disturbing and utterly hypnotic. Newman would hit a similar note – albeit in a more polished way – in Nobody’s Fool, another film you should check out.
Like Lumet, Pollack can draw refreshing and interesting performances from his actors and Absence of Malice is a spectacular example of this. Newman ran quite the triple crown with the blowout bonanza of lift-you-out-of-the-recliner performances in the 80s in the above mentioned films and the rare sequel, which matches the original film in many respects and exceeds in others – The Color of Money. But then the combination of a Clapton fist pumper and Newman raging a pimptastic ’stache and perv aviators is guaranteed new hotness.
Pollack is also great at getting the more – how do you say, um – wooden of our acting populace to be a bit more complex. I count three different facial expressions on Harrison Ford in Sabrina and two of them are in the same FUCKING SCENE!!! While the movie is unforgivable for many legitimate reasons – my personal favorite being much of the class issues were clumsily addressed. Okay, I’m being merciful here. It’s bad. There are a couple of montage scenes that are on par with a SkyMall ad in terms of wealth worship and usefulness. That said, I do love the film. Any film that has Dana Ivey snarking at Harrison Ford and Angie Dickinson shagtastically flirting with him AND presents him as funny works for me!
I hesitate tossing the Kube in an entry about directors, whose egos probably have their own zip codes, despite not rising the level of perceived ass clownage of say a Cameron or a De Palma (I love you DeP!), I did want to mention Eyes Wide Shut, which for the most part is a UNWATCHABLE film, unless you’re a Kube enthusiast, which I am. Far, far too much Cruise and far, far too little of anyone else. Though he’s not completely unwatchable in this.
An aside: My director ass clown scale goes from Howard to Cameron, with Bigalow being the equiv of a five. The scale does not suggest those at the Howard end lack ego, but rather it denotes an ego equiv to a successful Neurosurgeon, which is barely ego by filmmaker standards.
It asks a lot of an audience to make them bear witness to anyone’s psychosexual midlife crisis (Unless it’s Shirley Valentine’s), but it’s completely UNFORGIVABLE to make us sit through Cruise’s.
Anyway, Sydney was so boss in this movie. Moreover, the rapport Cruise and Pollack cultivated in The Firm is evident throughout their scenes in Eyes Wide Shut. So while Syd’s not the filmmaker in this case, he’s still drawing out interesting performances from actors. This is also true of his acting work in Michael Clayton. It left me yearning to see more of Clooney and Pollack in another project.
What films I think you should watch by them
These are a few of my favorites and/or relatively lesser known films of each director.
LUMET
• Serpico. Lumet is the rare director to make all that Pacino shouting less grating.
• The Morning After. An overlooked film, partially due in no small part to the wonky casting of Jane Fonda as a drunken actress – at odds with her fitness persona at the time. Her performance was Oscar nominated and she’s doing exceptional work here. Of course, it goes without saying that Raul Julia is fantastic,. as is Jeff Bridges.
• Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. Strange as it seems, Lumet’s most recent film feels very much like classic Lumet. All the best of his stylistic choices are there and Ethan Hawke’s performance reminded me of how talented he can be when properly nurtured.
Pollack
• 3 Days of the Condor. Come for Redford at the apotheosis of his 70s hotness and stay for an engrossing political thriller that is chillingly relevant thirty years later. Whoa, I went a long time before mentioning Redford in relation to Pollack. This is probably some kind of record.
• They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?. I adore this film. I often recommend it to people even when not preaching the gospel of Sydney.
• Absence of Malice. Better yet, get this and The Verdict and have yourself a merry little Newman kind of evening.
Normally, I do these kinds of posts cage fight style, but didn’t feel it struck the right note. These are two filmmakers whose work is just too damn good. Thank goodness they have the same name, thus providing me a framing device to get my fangirl on.
____________________
* = actor
+ = producer
Mandy Patinkin - Vika Manne table/Vika Curry legs
• Damn, Bailey’s new boy is hot with multiple T’s. I cannot believe I am the sort of person who watches Grey’s Anatomy without irony. Pretty white people with pretty white problems. It’s like Thirtysomething with more brown people and waistbands that don’t graze the nipples. The bearded, grizzled hot influence of Peter Horton is all over Grey’s. Not that you asked – I hate the following cast members: Owen (except when he’s inside Cristina), Derek, all the Mercy-West people, Lexie, Izzy, Meredith and their ilk. My faves are: ALEX. He’s like my asshole soulmate. He’s my dream BFF. He’s loyal, direct and can be there and hump you if needed. And damn, he’s my kind of fine. Bailey. At first the Mammylicious thing was tiring, but fuck, then having spent more than my fair share of time with whiny, self-involved white people who think you look like a person who who might give a shit about their self generated melodramas, I can see her point. Plus, while she looks NOTHING like me, I want Wilson to rock me in a movie. She’s got the height, the boobs and snark. THE CHIEF. I don’t care if he’s a boozing, manwhoring (in his day) ‘fraid of Adelle grouchy pants, it’s so nice to see Pickens Jr. NOT playing a one dimensional asshat like when he was Keith’s homophobic hot buttered fail of a father on Six Feet Under or AD McGrumpy Pants on The X-Files. It goes without saying I am all about some Callie, Arizona and Cristina. Though I miss Burke. (not excusing or erasing Washington’s behavior.) I wish they would’ve done the Darren Bewitched thing and fucking CAST another actor to play Burke. That was the best character since Pembleton (Homicide: Life On The Street) and it’s a shame he’s not still around. I also enjoy Sloan, Adelle and Addison.
• When you don’t let a bath or pa-choing! hair (hair that’s sticking up everywhere, named after the sound effect I make when I note my hair in said state.) stand between you and some flat packed furniture – rocking a pair of hooker boots, thermals, a shabby gray sweater thinking your fierce green coat knee length and yellow ruched oversize satchel are going to hide your fashion fail – you’ve got some problems.
• Working on the following entries: “Sydney Vs. Sidney” (if you have to ask which two, then you probably aren’t going to find the entry appealing. here’s a hint – Condor, Wiz), “Wait, who?” – ongoing series of posts reflecting on pop culture figures who wowed me like a billion years ago and I haven’t seen since or people like TIM “Salami” Van Patten who like did something cheesy when they were younger (the white shadow) and totally does stuffs made of awesome now (directed numerous The Sopranos, Sex and the City and does an excellent job)
Hot yellow purse.
• I am behind on everything. If I owe you something, give me another week. I am doing some part time caring for relative recovering from major surgery, in the middle of a complete living space redecorating project (with the bulk of the work being done by me and my partner and I am up against a self imposed time limit, which of course passed five days ago!), I am hustling paid projects out the door and just got two more thrown at me that need 48 turn around. And I’m going to be doing a project management thingie for a friend’s awesome new business, which will bankroll my “write for a year full time and if nothing happens go open a pen/paper/crap I like store where I don’t actually let people buy anything and instead make them laugh and ply them with cheap bad coffee I put in starbucks bags to fool them” thing, so I’m all over the place lately. Plus I straightened my hair (blow out) and the lack of washing it has probably had impacted my ability to not act on every single impulse.
• Leverage just keeps getting better and better. Seriously? Really? Yes. I am loving these characters more each week. Jeri Ryan is awesome and loving how she just jumped in, held her own and is now one of them. The most recent job – “The Future Job” – is up there with “The Bank Job” and of course the stellar pilot in terms of total, all-encompassing awesomeness. I only pray they will either incorporate Nate’s drinking – like House’s pill popping – so it’s not so tedious and distracting to the plot (though I realize that’s not how drinking issues work). Or at least have the effects be shown and not harped on or discussed at length by the characters on camera. Also, NO SOPHIE/NATE ’shipping. Seriously. While they have nice chemistry, it distracts and weighs down the show. It also feels forced and is uninteresting. It’s like a bad copy of Catherine Z-J’s character’s relationship with Rusty Ryan (Ocean’s 12) – a copy of a copy of a copy 80s taped off the HBO and passed around the neighborhood so others can tape off the tape kind of bad.
whole mess of lack tables
• I think I accidentally attempted to screw vika curry into the soles of my feet instead of putting on shoes. I have allen-screwed my way from here to ya ya over the last couple of days. And I LOVE MY BLUE peanut shaped table. I need to name it. Maybe Mandy Patinkin. That’s how much I love this table. Name it after yummy, musical theater hottie. Yes, my table will now be called Mandy Patinkin. Ooh, I likes the beard he’s got going on in his wiki pic.
• I gave Bones five episodes to “wow” me and I just can’t get into it. I don’t like the lead character at all. While there are some who might argue that coming into a show mid run isn’t the best way to figure out if you’re going to click with a show, I completely disagree. If I have to watch all the way from the beginning to discern why I should care about your tv show, you – the creator/the puppet master – have failed. I’ve never early adopted a show since becoming an adult. Last one was The Cosby Show. Didn’t even early adopt The X-files. Got on board after second season episode Humbug. Six Feet Under was already working on season Four and Claire’s bi-curiosity when I got to the party. I didn’t need to know “the backstory” on any of my favorite shows. Homicide was nearly three years old when I realized it was the best show ever, and hell, I’d read the doorstopper of a book on which it was based. Still this was not enough to motivate me to early adopt. Don’t get me started on how many times Tony (The Sopranos) had gotten himself in trouble or how many shiny suits the gang had gone through before I decided to do more than just booty dance to the theme and have my mother and other people just describe episodes and spoilers to me. I did the same thing with SFU. A friend used to watch the shows and then call me immediately afterwards (with notes scrawled during the eps) and go through scene by scene for me. In many cases I loved this more than the actual episodes. Particularly when my mom gave me the lowdown on each and every season six: part one ep of The Sopranos. I love how she editorialized and would say things like, “You know with his history of emotional issues and inappropriate boundaries…” well I wouldn’t know, but I would be fascinated just the same. This brings me back to Bones I know what they’re trying to do with the character, but I don’t like how it’s being framed. I don’t like “hey, she’s hot, so let’s romanticize aspects of her that we would penalize the less hot for.” That chaps my ass. I haven’t really read up on what is attempting to be presented here so my analysis is only in relation to that tired trope. Also, the first episode I watched involved a well-proportioned size 18ish woman stalking men because you know, clearly don’t nobody want her fat ass and of course a fat woman’s belief that a conventionally attractive man desires her is like totally pathological. Whatevs. I really like David B, but he’s gonna need to actually find himself a project I’d be willing to watch. (not interested in Angel, quite yet. Cause of the Whedon thing, but like when my mom is up early and narrates what happens while she’s watching and making coffee.)
The Brothers Scott
In the red corner…
Ridley Scott
nickname: “Blood Runner” for his Kubrickian obsession with pointless multiple takes.
Notable Works
- The Duallists (WIN)
- Alien (WIN)
- Blade Runner (WIN WIN WIN)
- Legend (FAIL FAIL FAIL)
- Someone to Watch Over Me (FAIL)
-Thelma and Louise (WIN)
- Black Rain (FAIL)
- G.I. Jane (WIN)
- Gladiator (WIN)
- Hannibal (FAIL)
- Black Hawk Down (WIN)
- Matchstick Men (WIN)
- Body of Lies (WTF)
-American Gangster (WIN WIN WIN WIN)
________________________________
In the white corner…
Notable Works
The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 (MEH)
Déjà Vu (MEH)
Domino (MEH)
Man on Fire (FAIL)
Spy Game (WIN WIN WIN WIN)
Enemy of the State (WIN INFINITY)
The Fan (FAIL FAIL FAIL)
Crimson Tide (WIN)
True Romance (WIN LIKE WHOA)
The Last Boy Scout (FAIL)
Beverly Hills Cop II (FAIL)
Top Gun (WIN)
The Hunger (WIN)
Clearly both brothers are providing good, solid entertainment value for your dollar, with Tony slightly ahead in this regard. And, I do believe Ridley would be providing more if he wasn’t spending quite so much time chewing on the gristle that is Blade Runner. Man, give it a rest. There is rather double distressing news on the remake front. Both brothers seem to be involved with the Untitled Alien Prequel and Tony – I don’t even believe what I’m hearing – is sniffing around The Warriors.
I have to sit down for a minute. I cannot believe I have lived to see the day where I am typing the words remake of The Warriors. Where’s my flying car? because I figured that shit was way, way, way in the future. Long after my 104th birthday.
Quiz Time: Which brother.
1. “Yeah, Cameron passed and so did Robert Zemeckis. We better ask ____ Scott.” (R or T)
2. “Look, Why don’t you and Denzel take some time apart to figure out where things went wrong.” (R or T)
3. “Either you do it or I’m calling Michael Bay!” (R or T)
4. “Either you do it or I’m calling Ron Howard!” (R or T)
I promised La Mommie this fight would be fair. I have weighed the evidence. I have thought it through, but at the end of the day I have to stay true to my heart. And at my heart, I’m a Tony Scott girl. I am girl who needs a lot of spinning crane shots, cute boys being chased by veteran actors and lots of things blown to bits as plot forwarding devices. Still, I like that they collaborate, though oddly enough I don’t recall having ever watched any such collaboration. I was turned off of Numb3rs because it seems there’s a lot of romantic chow chow that has very little do with solving crimes by math. Twenty years of watching Law & Order has trained me NOT to care about what happens to faux cops once they leave the squad room.
Two scary girls are better than one.
What Brian De Palma had directed The Shining?
What if Stanley Kubrick had directed Carrie?
Curious. So was I and here’s what I have come up with.
Kubrick at the helm of Carrie would have meant:
• The acting and script would have 1000x better
• The movie would have started at the prom and slowly unfolded in flashback
• There would be many more unnecessary zooms on terrified expressions
• Less fucking telling and more fucking showing.
• No Nancy Allen or John Travolta.
• Movie would have stayed focused on Carrie and not switched protags at the end giving us all the “wft, whose story is he telling?” foolishness.
• Carrie would have been more humanized, though still quite “HAL” like.
• unsatisfying ending.
• judicious use of cheesy horror effects.
• Peter Sellers would attempt to upstage everyone at the prom, yet be spared a just slashing.
• Carrie’s mother would take her parenting cues from The Sonny and Cher Show or watch a lot of Good Times.
De Palma helming The Shining would be all
• split screen a-go-go. All chase scenes would be split with the cells converging at the apotheosis of terror.
• oddly framed shots of “Tony”/Danny’s finger when Tony was talking. NO Danny in frame.
• Several pointless sex scenes between the parents and Nancy Allen would film all her chase scenes topless. JIGGLEVISION.
• The plot would have to be nailed to a tree to keep from blowing away.
• Scatman would have been killed off before he could tell them anything useful.
• Someone would have been dressed like Mae West for no discernible reason.
• we would have had to see that damn elevator o’ blood first in split screen, then oddly framed and THEN in four square.
• Jack would have written the entire plot synopsis on his “All work and no play” manuscript and the audience would have been given ample time to read it.
• The ending would have been spelled out with cheesy “resolution” strings and some random person explaining everything to the audience like a Bond villain about two minutes before the plan is thwarted.
• more corpses in glossy lipstick
• less live people in glossy lipstick
• Nancy Allen
Rod Tidwell - Show Me the Money.
Giving some beautiful link love to fellow ambassadors of Quan.
• McCabe and Solidarity – Goodbuytjane writes about solidarity work and resistance by artists who refuse to share a space with transphobic wankers.
Over the years, having heard so many artists I otherwise respect fumble for answers when asked why they continued to play transphobic events a clear comment like this is so appreciated, especially as it was backed up by action. Canceling a gig isn’t easy, especially when you’re a younger artist, and it definitely must have taken dollars from his pocket. It warms my heart to see that the idea of solidarity transcends that, however.
• Tasha of Water in My Cereal talks back fat and fabulousness.
for me, wearing a dress or shirt that is snug and shows off my back rolls is a revolutionary act. actually, wearing something snug without constantly worrying about trying to conceal the lumps and bumps of my body is what is so internally revolutionary for me.
• Redlami learns to Pat his own damn head
It’s been about ten years since my awareness of my privilege has been safely hidden behind a curtain of “I don’t see races, I just see people.” I had never heard the term white translator, unpacking was something you did on a camping trip, and allies were those other countries that helped the U.S. win World War II.
• This Ain’t Living examines “The Girl on the Subway”
Here’s where things started to get interesting.
People started pushing back on this almost immediately. Posts were written about experiences of being harassed on public transit, people linked to older writings about harassment, and Tumblr members questioned why the staff thought this was appropriate, talking about the very real harassment women face on public transit, and the fact that some Tumblr users are survivors of harassment, and that seeing it treated as a joke can be traumatic.
• Hands off my pelvis, doc by Kate Harding. Consent is apparently in the eye of the beholder.
The U.S. and U.K. have guidelines requiring consent before a bunch of strangers are permitted to explore a patient’s orifices, but “Canadian guidelines state that pelvic examination by trainees is ‘implicit.’” You agree to one procedure while under anesthesia, and you’ve agreed to all of them, I guess? Or maybe just the ones that might be awkward and uncomfortable if you were conscious.
Please leave comments on the respective blogs.
Quest for Fire
There are two movies entitled Fatal Attaction. I know this because prior to the Michael Douglas vehicle’s release on VHS, my mother mistakenly brought home this one. No boiled bunnies to be had. She also brought home a truly abysmal stinker called Lies. Just when you think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, it in fact does and to a spectacular degree.
The AAFES movie rental store had a “waiting list”. This is where the Sunday part came in. They were only open from 11am to 4pm, which is about how long it took La Mommie to fight with the throngs of “PX-shoppers” to get all our supplies for the week. Saturdays were for buying candy, Duran Duran school supplies and clothing from all the cool department stores in Nuremberg. Anyway, At around noonish I’d put my name on the list for whatever movies I wanted (because they were always checked out) and by closing I would have that movie. In the hundreds of times I did this, not once did I leave empty handed. Say what you want about our U.S. Armed Forces, but they never bring their movies back late.
And because no matter where you go, there’s always a nerd manning the video rental store counter, I learned an awful lot about movies just by sitting quietly in a chair by the register doing my homework, reading Archie Comics and listening to these guys ramble about any number of cool movies they were hoarding in the back.
And I have seen a lot of movies. Most of them TERRIBLE. ABSOLUTELY awful. But if you don’t have the lifestyle I have you’re not going to have a lot of time to find out the hard way. So here’s my short cut for determining whether or not the movie you’re about to place in your queue is going to suck.
If the title contains the word “fire”, it sucks
Staying away from anything titled like such is your best bet. Before you say, “Hey, In the Line of Fire wasn’t that bad.” may I remind you degrees of bad are of NO comfort. St. Elmo’s Fire isn’t that bad either. But it ain’t that good.
See examples: Quest for Fire, Fire with Fire, Firestarter, Twin Peaks: Fire walk with me, Fire in the Sky, Man on Fire, Harry and the Gob of Fire, Chariots of Fire and so for. Please, like you really enjoyed anything other than Vangelis’s theme to CoF.
Avoid any cover that says, _____ is _____(character name)
This is pretty simple. Let me show you.
Carl Weathers IS Action Jackson
Bruce Willis IS HUDSON HAWK
Mario Van Peeples is SOLO
Val Kilmer is THE SAINT – no he’s not. Roger Moore is!
Will Smith IS HITCH
Jet Li IS THE ONE
Stallone is THE SPECIALIST
Stallone is COBRA
Stallone is OSCAR
Kathleen Turner IS VI Warshawski
Tom Selleck IS An Innocent Man
Denzel Washington IS A MAN ON FIRE
Sequels titles that try to get cute
I like sequels for the same reason I like television shows. I like the characters, yo. You don’t need to stroke me or make me feel good about this. Just put the number after the goddamn title so I’ll know where they go on my shelf.
2010: The Year We Made Contact
Superman IV: Quest for Peace (bonus for having quest, more in sec on that)
Die Hard: Live Free or Die Hard. Whatevs. DH4 works fine too.
Batman Returns – is that some kind of threat?
Analysis That
The Whole Ten Yards – that don’t make no kind of sense.
Quest
Nothing good comes from movies featuring the word “quest” in the title. NOTHING. That said, Galaxy Quest does not count. It’s bad on purpose and it’s awesome.
The above mentioned Superman movie
Quest for Fire
Visionquest
Dragonquest
Quest for Camelot
Ed Lin - photo credit: Gregory Costanzo
Ed Lin – the author of Waylaid and This is a Bust – inspired me to tell stories in my own voice without apologies or explanations for the cheap seats. It’s fearless prose. If you haven’t read it I suggest you hop to it. Read more about Ed and purchase his books here.
He graciously agreed to answer five questions and here they are.
What is your favorite way to procrastinate? For example instead of writing I like to watch movies about writers and tell myself it’s just like writing.
I actually don’t procrastinate. I’m a pretty motivated guy. I write like I’m going to be dead tomorrow and this is the last thing I’m going to be able to get out. (Though I don’t write every day. More on that later.) I think the time that I write isn’t prone to procrastination. I usually write really early or really late, so I’m not going up against shows (TV, theater, bands) that I want to see or otherwise hanging out. For a while I was getting up at 6 am and giving myself a choice: Go to the gym, or go write. [Pats tummy.] Hell, you can see what won out!
If Waylaid was to become an HBO series, who would you want playing the main character and more importantly, would the series involve voice over narration?
You know, I think it should be done as a rotoscope-like animation thing with voiceovers, but no narration. I think that if it were done in live action, it would come off as exaggerated. With a cartoon, the audience could view it with more separation and all the homophobia, racism and self-hate would be more, ah, digestible? The kid could look like me, only age-regressed! I would still want it to be something that hit people after they think about it, you know? What I tried to with Waylaid, and you can tell me how well this came off, is make something that touched the subconscious of the reader after the shock of the literal level wore off a little. Like the day after a fistfight, you feel a pain in your leg and you’re like, How the hell did I get that?
What writers who have influenced your work would readers find surprising? Mine is Richard Ford. And I’ll admit I die a little inside whenever I mention it.
Aw, don’t die! Own it! Hmm. Would H.P. Lovecraft be surprising? Charles Willeford? Chester Himes? Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? Stephen King? Raymond Carver? Hammett? James M. Cain? (Sometimes I see Waylaid as my tribute to The Postman Always Rings Twice.) I liked Amy Tan’s Joy Luck Club a lot. It came out when I was in college and I remember reading it straight through. I was pretty amazed. So many Asians have been bagging on her for years, but they’re assaulting this sort of pillar that the system built up and pushed her books onto. Amy herself has never pretended to be anything she wasn’t, so screw the haters. I was really inspired by Shawn Wong and Frank Chin, two brothers who put it out there when the climate wasn’t so friendly.
I am as influenced by music and song lyrics as by books. I have to give serious props to Jello Biafra and the Dead Kennedys. The first time I put on their first album, “Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables,” I was scared and excited. The level of biting sarcasm and wit I don’t think has ever been equaled. I’d glad I got to see Husker Du and the Replacements before they split up. Now I like to listen to 50s and 60s jazz while I write, the hard bop and modern stuff like Art Blakey, J.J. Johnson, Art Farmer, Benny Golson, Blues Mitchell and Buck Clayton. [speaking of which, check this out for an overview of how Clayton is the father of popular Chinese music Buck Clayton]
Another big influence on me is movies. Italian neorealist stuff like Bicycle Thieves, Il Posto, and early Fellini. I love the Apu Trilogy and it is a goddamn crime that it is out of print in the U.S. I’m a huge fan of silent film. I have a laserdisc player because a lot of those movies aren’t on DVD.
Can you give one piece of bad writing advice that has in fact worked for you?
Actually, I’m opposed to what is supposedly “good” writing advice – that you should write every day. I think you should listen to your heart, get some perspective on what you’re trying to do and then write when you are so moved. That could be every day or every other day or once a week.
When you force yourself to write everyday as an obligation, it makes your writing rote and devoid of humanity.
One of the best pieces of advice that I ever got was from Doris Jean Austin. She told me to never go back and revise until I thought I was done writing. When you go back and start changing stuff, it becomes harder to simply move ahead and keep writing. You’ve heard of suspension of disbelief to make a good book or movie? Writers have to suspend their own disbelief in their own work until the book/short story/poem is done. Don’t doubt yourself midstream. When you get to the bank, then you can check for leeches on your legs.
Do you foresee a point in time where writers of color will be writers FIRST and of color second? And if so, do you think Richard Branson will build us a time machine to take us there?
Like Junot Díaz says, writers of color are seen as their own genre. I kind of see the opposite happening – nobody is going to be a writer first anymore because it’s not enough to simply be a great writer. I’m talking about the mass market here, but people don’t simply want a good or even great book. They want a good story – and that includes the background of the author.
Even the white authors are breaking down their ethnic makeup. “Ms. X, who is of German and Irish descent. . .” It adds depth to the story about the writer.
That’s not necessarily a bad (or new) thing. Marketing has always had authors in a headlock. Back in the 50s, when paperbacks were really exploding, misleading cheesecake and blurbs on the covers even pushed decidedly unsexy titles from Aldous Huxley and H.G. Wells.
I guess in the end I don’t mind if my color comes ahead of my label as a writer – as long as there aren’t any bullshit assumptions about me and my writing that come with it.
With a slip of the dick Tiger Woods has been transformed from house negro to jail rat. Who does this dude’s publicity? Here he is shirtless and looking positively criminalicious. I’m guessing, based on what I know about photoshop the jail house tats were powdered away. After all, they are trying to sell magazines. Though it doesn’t explain the reverse Beyonce. Well, he might not have been considered “black enough” before, but the media is certainly framing him as “black enough” now. He probably can give that Cablasian thing a rest. Because when the media gives you a Labron makeover all bets are off, my friend.
Next up for Tiger, hilarity in elevators as white women clutch their knock off purses and a white guy following him around saying, “What I think Tiger was trying to say…”
Actor Pernell Roberts
• Actor Pernell “TV’s Trapper John MD” Roberts dies – P-Ro and I go way back. All the way back to my parents’ den and stolen moments of his charming rapport with the late Madge “Simba’s Mom” Sinclair on Trapper John, MD. A surprisingly underrated show, similar in tone to Lou Grant. You’ll be missed, P-Ro.
• The Ego Has Landed Apple’s long awaited iPad dropped today with all the subtly of a John Phillips Sousa Band tap dancing on storm grates.
• Ted Haggard’s wife – checks in to let us know what condition her husband’s former “condition” is in.
• Honey, I starved the baby – Mom decides to start the body shame early by starving her baby because she felt it was too fat. Good on her. Why let society do to her child what she can do cheaper and quicker at home? Much of the analysis seems to suggest sterilizing the mother, rather than neutralizing the fat hatred in our society is the best course of action. What a missed opportunity to rethink all this body shaming chow chow, particularly when its results in something so down right shocking it’s incomprehensible.
• The Movies of 2010 Part 1 has an interesting take on tr0n -
It’s hard to imagine there’s actually a sequel to the notorious 1982 bomb “Tron” being prepped for release later this year. Even stranger, Disney is paying through the nose to produce it, and stars Jeff Bridges and Bruce Boxleitner are returning for more speedy light-cycle action. The original is a beloved cult favorite, which makes the prospect of a big-budget, IMAXed 3-D super-sequel all the more outrageous. Early evidence points to a breathtaking upgrade in “Tron” visual fluidity, with a new score from Daft Punk ready to melt some brains. It’ll be retro game night at the multiplex for many, but I welcome the opportunity to introduce the admittedly glacial, but wildly inventive and groundbreaking moves of the original film to a whole new generation of geeky kids. I also can’t wait to exhaustively annoy my loved ones with a steady call of “Greetings, program!” for the rest of the year.
• Top 10 Jobs Never Seen in Movies – (caution ableist language in post) – A pretty hilarious look at the kinds of jobs that Hollywood would show if they really wanted to accurately capture the real world. The only one missing was an Actuary who solves crimes in their spare time. Loving the “Writer = harbinger of death” nod to dear old Jessica Fletcher. Wake up, folks. She killed all those people! No writer ever gets a muse that generous. Trust me, I’ve done the legwork.
I love me some karaoke. And I’m good too. We’re not talking great pipes: I’m more a vocal stylist who is kind enough to stick to what works with my limited range. That said, there are some songs – oh some songs – people should just LEAVE THE HELL ALONE. I’m not even talking about bad singing, but rather I’m tired of hearing these songs.
• I Touch Myself – The Divinyls.
Dude, nobody wants to watch you drunkenly crawl across a filthy karaoke stage, fucking up the words of this one hit wonder in a shrill, shaky voice while picturing the ex who won’t call you back feeling moved by your supposedly transgressive and sexy performance to rethink their position.
• American Pie – Don Mclean
The music dies a little more each time some earnest mutherfucker gets on stage and holds the audience hostage for eight minutes working his way through the events of La Bamba, which I’m pretty sure feels shorter than this song.
• Baby Got Back – Sir Mix-a-Lot
Now, don’t get me wrong. I raged this song back in the day, but I don’t need that fact called to my attention by drunk white people shaking their Dockers in my face in a sad attempt at irony.
• Summer Nights – Olivia & John
Hey, I think it’s great you got the whole Crisis Diversion team out to blow off some steam and I really appreciate the work you do, but really, we’re not filming MSWs Gone Wild here, and no, that singing and dancing yourselves back to the booth is not a nice touch.
• Don’t Cry Out Loud – Melissa Manchester
Yeah, I saw that movie too. And you know what, it has never compelled me to butcher one of Melissa Manchester’s finest songs. Sawdust and glitter do not describe the conditions under which this song should be performed. Okay, so maybe “Looking Through The Eyes of Love” is actually the better song. And no, you can’t sing that either.
