I watched Disney's "Hercules" with my boys the other night, and they seemed to greatly enjoy it, and, while I'm not a particular fan of Disney's movies, it was enjoyable enough. Good performances from the actors, reasonably good animation, and a typically Disneyfied storyline made it light fun.
That said, it's curious to see the Disney cultural meatgrinder go to work on the Greek myths. I mean, where to start? The saucy Megara (she looks hot) stole much of the show (but not too much, mind you -- it's Disney, after all), but I watched her happy ending with Herc and thought "Lordy, she's doomed." given that I know what happened to the "real" Megara when she hooked up with Hercules. NOT a happy ending for her or their kids. Of course, the cuddly, doting Hera was a total pie on the face of Greek mythology -- I mean, Hera? HERA? The original Olympian shrew bar none? A loving mother figure to Hercules? She wasn't even his mom, and what's more, Hera hated Hercules more than she hated most of Zeus's bastard children!
What else? How about the Judeo-Christian ethic evident in Hercules's growth as a hero -- Zeus saying something like "Being strong's not enough; what matters is the strength of your heart." Or something like that, in the context of his love and self-sacrifice regarding Megara. I mean, obviously, it's DISNEY, so they'll hew toward mawkishness whenever possible, but to invert the Greek heroic tradition to serve a Judeo-Christian ethic amused me to no end -- ancient Greeks would've choked at such a representation of Hercules.
The Titans were curiously rendered -- two of them resembled Norse Giants (Ymir and Surtur, if memory serves -- ice and fire giants). They certainly looked impressive enough, but it was odd to me, seeing these grand Norse Giants somehow standing in as Greek Titans. Somehow, I can forgive the gospel-singing Muses (they were entertaining enough), but the hash they made out of the myths was perplexing.
All the same, taking it unseriously, it was enjoyable on its own merits, but Zeus help any kid who gets their understanding of the Greek myths by way of Disney! It was pretty to look at, and fun to listen to (and James Woods was having a blast as Hades, clearly), but I felt like I needed to inoculate my boys against Disneyfication by reading actual Greek myths to them!
Friday, July 23, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Not-So-Great Gatsby
So, I finally read "The Great Gatsby." I don't know how I never got around to it all of these years, but, on a whim, I read it. I think because some folks who've read my writing have said that my style reminds them of Fitzgerald, so I thought "Fuck it, I'll give his masterpiece a read." My stepdad hated that book, threw it out a window when he was in college, and I know someone else who hated the book so much that she couldn't finish it.
Had to tackle it at last, and I did. Surprisingly, for such a short book, it is a fucking slog. I was surprised at how hard it was to get through. Not because it was nearly impenetrable ala James Joyce, because the prose was bright and accessible, but just because it was so boring. Boring. BORING.
Not that there weren't lovely turns of phrases here and there -- there were, but I was surprised that this, the Modern Library's Number 2 greatest work of fiction of the last century, was so spare. I read it as a writer, delving through it, the language, everything. It just didn't do it for me. I was surprised at how lacking it was, in terms of language. Like Ralph Ellison's masterpiece, "Invisible Man" -- that book serves up dazzling prose in thick and juicy slabs -- whole paragraphs and chapters that sizzle with writerly energy. And much of Hemingway's best stuff also hits like that. Whereas Fitzgerald's prose struck me as a dash of seasoning here and there. Very slight.
I found myself wanting to say "WHO CARES?" while reading, even while wanting to get through it. I was disappointed, and wondered how this book became so canonical. And then I did some delving, saw that it had been nearly forgotten shortly after coming out, and Fitzgerald died feeling an abject failure as a writer -- and then, "The Great Gatsby" was included in some WWII pack given to soldiers -- some 150,000 copies were included in those packets, and that made me think that THIS was the reason the book became canonical: all of those copies, those soldiers reading that slim novel in wartime, hearkening back to an era they likely remembered in their childhood -- voila! Instant classic!
Not to be too cynical, here, but would that book have become a super-classic if not for that 150,000-copy literary inoculation given to those soldiers? It likely informed the aesthetic for a generation. Would that every writer could be so lucky! Right time, right place, I guess.
Because, in my opinion, the book was not so great. Well-written, but not nearly as well-written as I thought it would be, and not even close to the best book I've ever read. And now I wonder if I should read more Fitzgerald to see whether I can find what there is in his work that I can take inspiration from, because I found precious little in this little book. I won't forget reading it, but perhaps for all of the wrong reasons.
Also, it was curious for me, because I'd read Nathanael West's "The Day of the Locust" years ago, and I found many similarities of style between him and Fitzgerald. And, of course, those two were friends, curiously enough, so it shouldn't perhaps surprise me that they kind of wrote like each other, since odds are they read each other's work.
It was curious for me to read "Gatsby" and see a similar writing voice to West, given that Fitzgerald is, by far, the ultimately more famous of the two writers. And, bizarrely, West died in a car crash on the way to Fitzgerald's funeral, which binds them together in still more curious ways in my head.
Had to tackle it at last, and I did. Surprisingly, for such a short book, it is a fucking slog. I was surprised at how hard it was to get through. Not because it was nearly impenetrable ala James Joyce, because the prose was bright and accessible, but just because it was so boring. Boring. BORING.
Not that there weren't lovely turns of phrases here and there -- there were, but I was surprised that this, the Modern Library's Number 2 greatest work of fiction of the last century, was so spare. I read it as a writer, delving through it, the language, everything. It just didn't do it for me. I was surprised at how lacking it was, in terms of language. Like Ralph Ellison's masterpiece, "Invisible Man" -- that book serves up dazzling prose in thick and juicy slabs -- whole paragraphs and chapters that sizzle with writerly energy. And much of Hemingway's best stuff also hits like that. Whereas Fitzgerald's prose struck me as a dash of seasoning here and there. Very slight.
I found myself wanting to say "WHO CARES?" while reading, even while wanting to get through it. I was disappointed, and wondered how this book became so canonical. And then I did some delving, saw that it had been nearly forgotten shortly after coming out, and Fitzgerald died feeling an abject failure as a writer -- and then, "The Great Gatsby" was included in some WWII pack given to soldiers -- some 150,000 copies were included in those packets, and that made me think that THIS was the reason the book became canonical: all of those copies, those soldiers reading that slim novel in wartime, hearkening back to an era they likely remembered in their childhood -- voila! Instant classic!
Not to be too cynical, here, but would that book have become a super-classic if not for that 150,000-copy literary inoculation given to those soldiers? It likely informed the aesthetic for a generation. Would that every writer could be so lucky! Right time, right place, I guess.
Because, in my opinion, the book was not so great. Well-written, but not nearly as well-written as I thought it would be, and not even close to the best book I've ever read. And now I wonder if I should read more Fitzgerald to see whether I can find what there is in his work that I can take inspiration from, because I found precious little in this little book. I won't forget reading it, but perhaps for all of the wrong reasons.
Also, it was curious for me, because I'd read Nathanael West's "The Day of the Locust" years ago, and I found many similarities of style between him and Fitzgerald. And, of course, those two were friends, curiously enough, so it shouldn't perhaps surprise me that they kind of wrote like each other, since odds are they read each other's work.
It was curious for me to read "Gatsby" and see a similar writing voice to West, given that Fitzgerald is, by far, the ultimately more famous of the two writers. And, bizarrely, West died in a car crash on the way to Fitzgerald's funeral, which binds them together in still more curious ways in my head.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Drink: V8 Fusion
If I have an addiction to anything, it's likely to V8 V-Fusion juices, which masterfully blend fruit and vegetable juices in one seemingly healthy package. There's no corn syrup or any other bad stuff in there, just fruit and veggies. They taste GOOD, and seem to be packed with antioxidant-laden nutrients. The main flavors...
Note, not to be confused with V8 Splash -- which IS a corn syrup-filled beverage that you often see lurking in vending machines. Fusion is sweet, but it's from sugar, not corn syrup. So, remember: Fusion good, Splash bad. Unless you are into corn syrup, but who really is into corn syrup?
There's also a V8 Fusion Light, which is for people who are perhaps more conscious of sugar intake than I am, but I've never had it. I love this product, and hope V8 keeps cranking out more flavors, because I'm always keen to try them, and, with the exception of Tropical Orange, I've never been disappointed.
If I had to rank-order my favorites, it would be as follows:
Give'em a shot, I don't think you could possibly be disappointed by them, unless maybe you're a dick who craves disappointment.
- Strawberry Banana contains the juice of 10 vegetables and fruits: sweet potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, beets, white grapes, oranges, apples, strawberries, bananas, banana puree.
- Tropical Orange contains the juice of 6 vegetables and fruits: sweet potatoes, carrots, yellow tomatoes, white grapes, oranges, pineapple.
- Peach Mango contains the juice of 8 vegetables and fruits: sweet potatoes, yellow tomatoes, yellow carrots, carrots, white grapes, oranges, peaches, mango puree.
- Pomegranate Blueberry contains the juice of 8 vegetables and fruits: sweet potatoes, purple carrots, tomatoes, carrots, apples, white grapes, pomegranates, blueberries.
- Acai Mixed Berry contains the juice of 8 vegetables and fruits: sweet potatoes, purple carrots, carrots, apples, white grapes, açai, blueberries, limes.
Note, not to be confused with V8 Splash -- which IS a corn syrup-filled beverage that you often see lurking in vending machines. Fusion is sweet, but it's from sugar, not corn syrup. So, remember: Fusion good, Splash bad. Unless you are into corn syrup, but who really is into corn syrup?
There's also a V8 Fusion Light, which is for people who are perhaps more conscious of sugar intake than I am, but I've never had it. I love this product, and hope V8 keeps cranking out more flavors, because I'm always keen to try them, and, with the exception of Tropical Orange, I've never been disappointed.
If I had to rank-order my favorites, it would be as follows:
- Peach Mango
- Strawberry Banana
- Passionfruit Tangerine
- Blackberry Cranberry
- Pomegranate Blueberry
- Acai Mixed Berry
- Tropical Orange
Give'em a shot, I don't think you could possibly be disappointed by them, unless maybe you're a dick who craves disappointment.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Splice (2010)
I saw "Splice" last night, directed by Vincenzo Natali and starring Adrien Brody and Sarah Polley as Clive and Elsa, these ultra-hip genetics researchers who apparently craft genetic chimeras for fun and profit, under the aegis of Newstead Pharmaceuticals, their employer. This movie definitely draws from David Cronenberg as its thematic polestar, although it isn't nearly as cynical or dark-hearted or political as Cronenberg). All the same, the movie is entertaining old-school Horror, as the power couple create Dren, this chimera that happens to have human DNA in the mix.
The movie is really a fable of parenthood, the perils of having a teenaged daughter under your roof, although, disappointingly, I think the movie didn't dwell nearly enough on the relationship between the three of them -- despite the foray into Dr. Frankenstein-style parenting, Clive and Elsa show only somewhat more parenting acumen than Dr. Frankenstein did -- clearly, the "could it be done?" aspect dominated over the "now what?" nature of the experiment. Elsa has deep mommy issues -- both personally (in terms of even wanting a kid) and in terms of her clearly-troubled relationship with her own mom (who is never seen, but her presence is felt, just the same).
Dren, the chimera they create, is the most compelling character in the mix, although Polley and Brody do a great job with what they're given -- I only wish they were given more and the biotech company angle was minimized in favor of the dysfunctional family trio they created. As it is, it's clear that their research work still is front and center, and Dren is largely sidelined to episodic snapshots in the barn they ultimately keep her in.
The actress Delphine Chanéac does a marvelous job giving life to Dren, who becomes both more and less than human as the story evolves. Although not speaking, she is very evocative in her pantomimed performance, and speaks volumes without saying a word. It's hard not to be both sympathetic for Dren and alarmed by her as the biotech fledgling literally flexes her wings and faces the world that her surrogate parents have done nothing to prepare her for (indeed, Clive and Elsa, despite feeling something for Dren, clearly have no idea how to be good parents -- any halfway good parent can watch what they do and sympathize, while also thinking "Okay, you guys are screwing up royally, here.")
Things spiral out of control in the story, and the ending's unfortunately a little sloppy -- actually, not entirely true: the ending-ending is dark and compelling, but the climax is unfortunately slapdash and while they wrote for it in the story, and prepared for it, it still ends up a little convoluted and undermines the work Chanéac did up to that critical point. While the "anything goes" aspect of her chimerical nature is understandable, and it's certainly alien as hell, I liked Dren as Chanéac and wanted more of her than the movie offered.
Complaints about the movie are mild -- namely the hipper-than-thou lab personages of Clive and Elsa, their emo/goth lab workers, the superfluous presence of Clive's brother in the lab (he's not even a placeholder, frankly -- he's just so much black hair-dyed meat), the rival/handler Barlow, and the company woman -- all of them take up space and don't particularly add much to the overall narrative arc of the story. Sure, the biggest, most chimerical monster in the movie is Newstead Pharmaceutical, and some Cronenberg-style nods are given to that, but somehow the blows don't quite land the way they need to.
But, Elsa's relentlessness, Clive's fecklessness, and Dren's monstrosity anchor the movie and make it an enjoyable, if not perfect effort. The dark humor in it plays nicely, and I laughed out loud both with it and at it at various points -- ludicrous and horrible at the same time. I think a little more attention to the relationship between Elsa, Clive, and Dren and less of the corporate angle would've made the movie better still.
* * * .75
The movie is really a fable of parenthood, the perils of having a teenaged daughter under your roof, although, disappointingly, I think the movie didn't dwell nearly enough on the relationship between the three of them -- despite the foray into Dr. Frankenstein-style parenting, Clive and Elsa show only somewhat more parenting acumen than Dr. Frankenstein did -- clearly, the "could it be done?" aspect dominated over the "now what?" nature of the experiment. Elsa has deep mommy issues -- both personally (in terms of even wanting a kid) and in terms of her clearly-troubled relationship with her own mom (who is never seen, but her presence is felt, just the same).
Dren, the chimera they create, is the most compelling character in the mix, although Polley and Brody do a great job with what they're given -- I only wish they were given more and the biotech company angle was minimized in favor of the dysfunctional family trio they created. As it is, it's clear that their research work still is front and center, and Dren is largely sidelined to episodic snapshots in the barn they ultimately keep her in.
The actress Delphine Chanéac does a marvelous job giving life to Dren, who becomes both more and less than human as the story evolves. Although not speaking, she is very evocative in her pantomimed performance, and speaks volumes without saying a word. It's hard not to be both sympathetic for Dren and alarmed by her as the biotech fledgling literally flexes her wings and faces the world that her surrogate parents have done nothing to prepare her for (indeed, Clive and Elsa, despite feeling something for Dren, clearly have no idea how to be good parents -- any halfway good parent can watch what they do and sympathize, while also thinking "Okay, you guys are screwing up royally, here.")
Things spiral out of control in the story, and the ending's unfortunately a little sloppy -- actually, not entirely true: the ending-ending is dark and compelling, but the climax is unfortunately slapdash and while they wrote for it in the story, and prepared for it, it still ends up a little convoluted and undermines the work Chanéac did up to that critical point. While the "anything goes" aspect of her chimerical nature is understandable, and it's certainly alien as hell, I liked Dren as Chanéac and wanted more of her than the movie offered.
Complaints about the movie are mild -- namely the hipper-than-thou lab personages of Clive and Elsa, their emo/goth lab workers, the superfluous presence of Clive's brother in the lab (he's not even a placeholder, frankly -- he's just so much black hair-dyed meat), the rival/handler Barlow, and the company woman -- all of them take up space and don't particularly add much to the overall narrative arc of the story. Sure, the biggest, most chimerical monster in the movie is Newstead Pharmaceutical, and some Cronenberg-style nods are given to that, but somehow the blows don't quite land the way they need to.
But, Elsa's relentlessness, Clive's fecklessness, and Dren's monstrosity anchor the movie and make it an enjoyable, if not perfect effort. The dark humor in it plays nicely, and I laughed out loud both with it and at it at various points -- ludicrous and horrible at the same time. I think a little more attention to the relationship between Elsa, Clive, and Dren and less of the corporate angle would've made the movie better still.
* * * .75
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Tackling Race
I saw an ad that's either for Dr. Pepper and/or for pizza -- I can't recall. Anyway, there's a couple of football players, black guys, one of whom is (I guess) a defensive lineman, the other (I guess) is a quarterback (?) -- and the defensive guy delivers pizza to the door of the posh dwelling of the QB, and after giving him the pizza, he tackles him. There's dialogue in the mix, but I can't remember it. The QB's house is television-opulent, and this dowdy, middle-aged white maid comes into the frame and looks at the guys with an admonishing glance. Here, I found it...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-J9NvAalco
Now, you can see it. Something jumped out at me while watching that ad: the maid. Wealthy black man, white maid. Oooh! He's arrived, right? And yet, the advertising company was careful to have it be a decidedly not-attractive, middle-aged white maid. Not a hot, young white maid.
That choice made me wonder if they deliberately avoided that because they didn't want the knuckledraggers to get up in arms about a successful black man having a bodacious young white maid working for him, handing him his drink -- because of the sexual connotations, naturally. Instead, it's like "Sure, he's got a white maid, so you know he's made it, but she's not a babe, so you, gentle viewer, can be sure that there's no hanky-panky going on." I mean, not only is the maid old, she's the least-attractive person in the ad.
Given the constant use of sex in advertising, the deliberate sexlessness of the ad jumped out at me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-J9NvAalco
Now, you can see it. Something jumped out at me while watching that ad: the maid. Wealthy black man, white maid. Oooh! He's arrived, right? And yet, the advertising company was careful to have it be a decidedly not-attractive, middle-aged white maid. Not a hot, young white maid.
That choice made me wonder if they deliberately avoided that because they didn't want the knuckledraggers to get up in arms about a successful black man having a bodacious young white maid working for him, handing him his drink -- because of the sexual connotations, naturally. Instead, it's like "Sure, he's got a white maid, so you know he's made it, but she's not a babe, so you, gentle viewer, can be sure that there's no hanky-panky going on." I mean, not only is the maid old, she's the least-attractive person in the ad.
Given the constant use of sex in advertising, the deliberate sexlessness of the ad jumped out at me.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
KFC Double Down
Grease is the word! I had to finally try one of those KFC Double Down meatwiches, and it was tasty enough -- two amazingly hot breaded chicken breasts, some sauce that reminded me of Thousand Island, some whitish cheese I didn't bother to identify, and a couple of strips of bacon. Health food, this isn't. And yet, despite the surely-deadly levels of fat in this, it wasn't overly greasy -- none of that throat-clearing one sometimes encounters after eating something too greasy. It all washed down pretty well.
It's a bit of a blunt instrument, flavorwise -- chicken/bacon/cheese/sauce -- not much in the way of flavor nuances, but then, it's a fucking Double Down, right? So, it doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is, and you shouldn't hope for it to be, either. Come in with low expectations, and you'll have them more than met. I liked it as a culinary curiosity, although I definitely wouldn't make it a regular part of my diet.
It certainly didn't feel like eating ball bearings, which is how Long John Silver's would make me feel (back in the 70s, the last time I had it). I ate it, was stuffed, but didn't puke or otherwise experience anything more traumatic than very greasy hands (handprint pictured above) and slight finger-burn because, with fried meat acting as "bread," there's no shelter for the fingers!
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The Devil's Rejects (2/2)
I finally watched the rest of "The Devil's Rejects," which I thought was just terrible. Zombie tries to humanize the monster characters he created at the front end, showing them among their freako kin, and shows the hard-assed Lawman getting obsessive in his desire to bring them to justice. And, of course, instead of simply wasting the trio of nasties, the guy tortures them graphically, ensuring that they all ultimately get away, despite suffering some injuries along the way. But it's impossible to feel an iota of sympathy or empathy for the characters, given the horrors the unleashed on the front end. Zombie's editorial and directorial sympathies appear to be with the title trio of freaks, but they couldn't die soon enough, and an overlong ending with "Free Bird" playing is just too much to bear.
Looking at some of the reviews for this trash, I saw, to my incredulity, that Roger Ebert gave it like three out of four stars, but I just don't see it. It's competently shot, but it's just a pile of junk thematically. Bad dialogues, wafer-thin characters, a dreadful morality -- all of it.
Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass.
It's weird to compare this movie with one that clearly inspired it, like the original "Texas Chainsaw Massacre." In that one, despite the whole freak carnival of it, Tobe Hooper clearly identified with the hapless victims who end up on the wrong end of Leatherface's chainsaw. But Zombie so clearly identifies with the monsters in "...Rejects" that it's galling.
He could've written a more complex movie around Captain Spaulding, if he'd only had the writerly chops to pull that off, but that character was, by and large, only there for comic relief (what little there was of it). Anyway, blech. You feel like you need a shower and some brain bleach after watching this movie.
Looking at some of the reviews for this trash, I saw, to my incredulity, that Roger Ebert gave it like three out of four stars, but I just don't see it. It's competently shot, but it's just a pile of junk thematically. Bad dialogues, wafer-thin characters, a dreadful morality -- all of it.
Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass.
It's weird to compare this movie with one that clearly inspired it, like the original "Texas Chainsaw Massacre." In that one, despite the whole freak carnival of it, Tobe Hooper clearly identified with the hapless victims who end up on the wrong end of Leatherface's chainsaw. But Zombie so clearly identifies with the monsters in "...Rejects" that it's galling.
He could've written a more complex movie around Captain Spaulding, if he'd only had the writerly chops to pull that off, but that character was, by and large, only there for comic relief (what little there was of it). Anyway, blech. You feel like you need a shower and some brain bleach after watching this movie.
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