Archive for November, 2011
I corrected a fairly significant cultural blindspot this evening in watching Waking Sleeping Beauty. My thanks to the good doctor and all apologies for not watching sooner, though in this case, I dissed both dre and myself in that regard. I was impressed by how much I knew, especially about Howard Ashman,and more still by how much it touched me.
The documentary is an exposition of the egos behind the renaissance of Disney animation in the 80s and 90s, which is substantially more dramatic than one might think. Disney got a lot right, but it seems a fairy god mother was watching over them, because it nearly fell apart a number of times before it actually did.
I would have liked to have seen the story cover Tron, which is from the dark ages, but is still one of my favorite movies. I also wonder where Emperors New Groove came from.
I’ll write more in the morrow. Until then, watch the trailer:
This weekend will be spent, in part, searching for the photo I had taken with the rainbow headed John 3:16 guy, who is the third or fourth most famous person with whom I’ve had my picture taken. The others, in order of descending fame, are Al Green, Mitch McConnell (this was a group picture, so I don’t know if it counts), and former Miss America Heather Renee French. Two of those pics are within three feet of me right now. Odd. Apparently, the John 3:16 guy is now in prison. Dangerous. I’ll post the pics as I find them and as I have the initiative to scan them into my computer.
Yo, half of Flight of the Conchords wrote the songs for the Muppets. Here’s my gave FotC song (also the only one I know. There may be others. Head down to your local library and check them out):
Off Broadway is the place where things happen. Here’s the Diary of Anne Frankenstein. You can kind of guess what it is.
I’m on record as liking Ghostbusters 2 more than most folks. It’s not as classic as the original, but inasmuch as it’s not the same movie as Ghostbusters (which it more or less is) it’s a better made movie, i.e. the entire third act, the rising action of Ghostbusters is a montage of newspaper headlines and Ray dreaming about relations with a ghost.) And whom among us, when hearing ‘Do’ followed by ‘Ray’ doesn’t say ‘Egon?’ The best part of G2, however, the fact that, at the beginning, we see that Irving Peck, ole sickness himself, won and the busters are being sued for environmental yadda yadda yadda, and in general having fallen further than where they began the first film. Granted, this is a pretty standard trope for action sequels (did John McClane ever begin a Die Hard when his marriage wasn’t on the rocks?) but it felt very organic for the Ghostbusters. Of course Peter Venkman would trade on his notoriety to host a tv show about paranormal topics and be entirely miserable about his situation.
The new muppets movie is definitely in that tradition only much funnier throughout and, rather than a rehash of the previous films which were all some variation on the let’s get the band back together/put on a show/ take a road trip, this movie is a clever commentary on not just the earlier films but on the genres as a whole.
From the continual breaking of the fourth wall to the “traveling by map” where a line drawn on a map takes the place of the actual journey to the hilariously ludicrous/evil scheme to tear down muppet studios in the center of LA, to NPH’s asking why he’s not hosting the telethon, the film is a fresh reimagining of those old tropes, and of the Muppets themselves who heretofore hadn’t been in a film for 12 years.
I couldn’t help but watch with an eye toward how Disney could integrate this movie into their theme parks. I would especially love a Muppet studios land in the Disney Studios and maybe a land, maybe an entire theme park dedicated to Amy Adams vim still waiting for an Enchanted parade, though. It would be perfect:
I didn’t think the songs were as catchy in The Muppets, but JT came out whistling this song:
There’s a scene in The Player where an aspiring film maker, having just proposed a ludicrous plot for a film (at a time when the title, Habeas Corpus, when described as the necessity to produce the body of the victim for a trial to ensue, raised fewer eyebrows than now, after the PATRIOT act taught us what it really means) that is too important for pat happy endings and big stars, because that’s the way it happens in real life. Red State is an example of trying to make a movie like real life.
The most striking thing about this movie, for me, was the way Kevin Smith willfully dispensed with nearly all tropes of the horror genre in an attempt to recreate life with something approaching verisimilitude, albeit with some situations that strain credulity.
For instance, the three boys who answer a preposterous online ad for NSA group sex (technically, I suppose, a foursome)? Yeah, don’t get too attached. They all die. (oh, I’m sorry, did I spoil your concentration?) the evil preacher, he lives. Tension is built during a sermon, not by silently sneaking up behind someone. The climax, it’s a moderately amusing anecdote about the rapture, not the anticlimactic gun battle that takes place right before.
There are some great performances here, but it’s kind of difficult to get tied up emotionally because the emotional center keeps shifting and there’s not a lot of story or character development to make us care about the these real people or their relationships.
Also, an internal disciplinary hearing would not be the resolution to an ATF action that resulted in at least four ATF kills of residents of the compound, multiple ATF deaths, and untold numbers of killings of kidnaped sinners. I think Fox News might even admit the ATF did good work on this one. The liberal media, they would jizz (should be jis, it’s an abbreviation of jisam) in their pants. (the last four words of that sentence are meant to be sung. Watch the video. It’s a good get. I’m not saying I’m a big deal, but I’m kind of a big deal. You can almost taste the viral desire.)
Do what you want on this one. Don’t blame me.
(watch for the westboro baptist style sign that says “pork products, not dudes.” weird.)
Just so you know, just so you don’t think I’m a dullard, the French pronounce it re-do. When Apocalypse Now, Redux was released, everybody pronounced it re-ducks, as if that gave it some sort of enhanced dignity. (it didn’t. It just obfuscated what Coppola was trying to do. Or redo, I guess)
Anyhoo, I dropped JT off at school this morning and came home to prepare Mama Stamberg’s cranberry relish. The recipe says to freeze it at least overnight. As there will be a big crowd on Thursday at my parents,’ I doubled all the ingredients, except the horseradish, cause, man, that looked like a lot if horseradish. Then I tasted it and was like, “hey, this could use some more horseradish.” after adding the requisite amount of horseradish and sampling it, I must admit that this is, in fact, a relish for which I could develop a fetish. Finished pic below (old school Tupperware is a bonus):