The Improviser

Anyone know the lyrics to Wales Forever?

2006-09-25T15:45:00.000-04:00

The version from the album "Land of My Fathers," I mean. The artist is Michael Ball, and the song's title is "Wales Forever/Cwm Rhondda." I don't know Welsh, but I'm guessing it's the Welsh version of the chorus "Wales forever... hear us now and evermore." Anyways, here's the English part:

Can you hear the voices calling?

Singing proud and singing clear

All around the sound is rising

One by one they join the cheer

[welsh… ]

Cymru, Cymru ambyth
Cymru, Cymru ambyth

Can you hear the valleys ringing?

Can you hear the dragon’s roar?

Heart and soul with pride are singing

Land of Wales forever more

Wales forever! Wales forever!

Hear us now and evermore!

Hear us now and ever more!

[cheering]

Oh can you hear the roar of voices?

Joined together side by side

Well now’s the hour, the hour of glory

Raise the roof and sing with pride

[welsh...]
Cymru, Cymru ambyth
Cymru, Cymru ambyth

2005-12-31T15:38:00.000-05:00

another thought

2005-12-31T15:35:00.000-05:00

just a thought

I got into Princeton

2005-12-18T00:00:00.000-05:00

HAH!

2005-12-12T22:22:00.000-05:00

Rent

Several week's worth of FRiK Updates

2005-05-22T21:01:00.000-04:00

Sorry it's been aeons since I last posted... First, I was busy with the Chem final paper (which counts for a friggin 20% of my chem grade), then came the APs (which sucked) and the SAT I (which sucked even more) and a week or so of absolute collapse.

Anyhow... we showed them Me, Myself, and Irene, for over 2 weeks. They really enjoyed it... crude humor amuses them a great deal. Then, Stacey and I had them write short screenplays based on a simple premise: there are several people arguing over money. That worked out better than planned. After all, who can resist the urge to be creative? We let them go as soon as they were done. Most finished in about 15 minutes. One stayed for about the whole period. Stacey and I decided we should try to shoot them in reverse order that they were turned in, and we let the writer direct. So far, 2 weeks have been spent in pre-production. We shot a few scenes last wednesday. Naturally, "Quiet on the Set!" meant nothing to those who were not in front or behind the camera, but oh well, what can you expect from a bunch of little sophomore boys?

To make up for missed sessions and the fact that there simply weren't 50 wednesdays, we've been assigning film write-ups all year (they were to watch a film and do a page-long writeup. The hours given were based on the length of the film). For those panicking because they've done next to none of those assignments and who didn't show up several times, we gave them two essay options: do a writeup comparing and contrasting either the two Star Wars trilogies or two Ridley Scott films: Kindom of Heavena and Gladiator.

I hope they listen so they can pass.

Week 19- Shooting and Whining and Some Cooperation

2005-03-30T18:51:00.000-05:00

Week 18, the Wednesday before spring break, I was unable to attend FRiK, but Stacey tells me the guys were not cooperating with the whole film study thing. She'd tell them to observe something, say, camera angles, and they would whine that they'd never heard of such things, and she'd explain but they'd whine so loudly no one could hear, and then they'd whine some more about actually having to do work.

That was a key complaint this time as well. Weeks ago, we drafted a quick ad, and this week we planned to shoot it, which we did... sort of. There were several who either were cooperative or simply not uncooperative who willingly made props and volunteered to man the camera and act, but others who spent the whole time going, "why do you have to be the hard-ass group?" They pointed out that many clubs were do-nothing clubs that simply put down hours for nothing at all, so why should we actually do filmmaking? Because we're honest, we replied, which only engendered more complaining. In the end, what should have been a quick, 20 minute shoot took the whole period because they simply wouldn't leave us along long enough to get anything done with the others who were actually cooperative or at least were not uncooperative. And when we shot, they'd be talking in the background, so we may have to scrap audio and make it a silent film...

2005-03-08T16:07:00.000-05:00

The Scarlet Letter...

Week 17- Distractions

2005-03-02T22:42:00.000-05:00

I had a rehearsal for the school musical, Hello, Dolly!, so I couldn't make it to FRiK this week. Stacey told me that she showed them Life of Brian, but they were whiny and disruptive. They wanted to do their chemistry homework. They had already seen it. They couldn't answer questions about camera angles because they had never learned about them. I suppose they forgot all about the lessons Stacey and I taught them prior to the film-watching part. Next time, we should pick an obscure film, either foreign or very old, that none of them would have seen before. And we should tell them about whatever element of filmmaking we want them to pay attention to before starting it, just to make sure they know something.

Week 16- Finishing one Movie

2005-02-23T15:53:00.001-05:00

Today, we wrapped up our study of Pirates of the Caribbean. The guys certainly enjoyed the movie, but I don't know how much they learned about films. The quizzes Stacey and I gave them were designed to test their knowledge not only of the story, but also of the set, lighting, and other behind-the-scenes elements. We asked them to vote on a movie to watch next week, and they chose the Monty Python movie Life of Brian. I have no objections to it other than that many have already seen it and may be inclined not to pay attention.

Week 15- An Unsteady Peace Continues

2005-02-13T21:02:00.000-05:00

It bothered me when a lot of people said they did not know about the assignment- to watch a movie and write a reaction- but I was surprised when several people actually did it. Stacey and I gave those who had forgotten another week for their hours to count. Otherwise, the time spent screening the film would only count for half. We decided to assign them an obscure film next time so they couldn't just recall a movie they'd watched ages ago and copy some review from IMDb. We were thinking of a foreign or classic film, but availability may be an issue. I actually found a website that posts free, next-to-amateur films that might be good. Though the two films I screened were pretty crappy, I thought it would be an ideal opportunity to show the guys what they, amateurs, were capable of as well as what not to do.

We continued screening "Pirates of the Caribbean," though those who had seen it before protested (very noisily... some of the guys, whose very molecules reek of arrogance and laziness, expect career awareness credit for sitting around and watching movies). We showed them a behind-the-scenes featurette that showed the Town Attack scene being filmed, then watched that segment of the film (and then some), which was followed by a quiz. The guys did pretty well- most got all the questions right, and those who didn't made it up with the two obscure bonus questions (Why does Will have a rag around his wrist, and name one Oscar "Pirates" was nominated for).

Next week will likely be more of the same, although I'm hoping by the end, the guys will have learned a thing or two about filmmaking.

The New SAT

2005-02-05T23:13:00.000-05:00

If it's anything like the practice test offered by Kaplan, then it's essentially the old PSAT minus the analogies and quant comps plus an essay. They say the math is tougher, and that it incorporates Algebra 2. In other words, they added f(x) and g(x), a few simple graphs, and a couple of simple quadratic problems. They also added "short reading passages." These are paragraph-long excerpts from the same type of stuff they got the old SAT passages from. The grammar is just like that of the PSAT, and the essay is a test of how much trash you can put down before the time's up.

In fact, the whole SAT is, will always be, and has always been a nationwide demonstration of how good people are at absorbing crap and regurgitating it onto an answer sheet via little penciled bubbles. If it ever was a "reasoning test," then by now all the reason has been edited out of it by those ETS elitists who think they can determine how smart kids are by forcing a tricky exam down their throats. Anyone with enough cash for a review book or course can easily earn a decent score, even if once upon a time they had a snowball's chance in hell of getting into any college at all.

With schools demanding that students learn more than they could ever care to, it's not surprising that the SAT has caught on to the suck-up-and-spit-back-out routine. In fact, life itself is becoming one big stage for the fine art of BS-ing.

Scientists v. Writers

2005-02-04T15:51:00.000-05:00

Concerning Black Holes

You see them all the time in science fiction, usually portrayed as great vortexes in space, both beautiful and terrible. The writers in the entertainment industry use their imaginations as well as science to say how they act and appear. But what is a black hole?

By definition, in simple terms, a black hole is basically an object in space into which things can fall but from which nothing can get out. It is the corpse of a star so massive that when it implodes, it warps the four-dimensional spacetime fabric so far that not even light can escape. As one nears the horizon and the center of gravity, time slows until it comes to a near stop.

To visualize a black hole, imagine that the spacetime fabric is a very flexible rubber sheet suspended in the air so that it is flat. A black hole would be represented by placing on this sheet a stone heavy enough to warp part of it into a funnel-like shape with the stone at the very bottom. All three-dimensional objects would be two-dimensional; Earth would be represented by a circle drawn on the sheet.

Since Earth is really a sphere, then the circular “rim” of the funnel shape would also be a sphere. If there were a black hole in reality, then it would look like an extremely black sphere with a sharp outline. This outline would be the horizon—the point of no return. Once something crosses this line, it can never come back.

According to the current theory, black holes are almost always misrepresented physically in movies and TV shows. For example, Dreamworks’ Galaxy Quest uses a black hole to transfer a group of people from one galaxy to another. In the movie, it is illustrated as a giant whirlpool-like object with dots and swirls decorating the rim.

Herein they are mistaken. A black hole does not have another end, and therefore the people could not use it as a gateway between galaxies. Also, since a black hole allows not even light to escape, it cannot be colorful, and because of the way it warps the spacetime fabric, it should be a sphere-like object, not a whirlpool.

Similarly, the Tribune’s TV show "Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda" portrays its black hole as a white sphere with a red disk around it. Although it does point out that time slows as one nears the horizon and that once something goes in, it cannot escape, the show is erroneous in the way it depicts its black hole for the same reason the one in Galaxy Quest is mistaken.

The black hole portrayed in Disney’s Treasure Planet is slightly more accurate in that it is completely black and is created from the death of a star. However, like the one in Galaxy Quest, this one is shaped somewhat like a whirlpool and allows things to escape. In the movie, the hero’s ship encounters a dying star that goes supernova before collapsing into a black hole, which emits wave after wave until the last, greatest surge that carries the ship away from the danger zone.

The problem here is that by definition, a black hole allows nothing to get out. How, then, can it emit waves? It cannot, although the idea works well in the story, as does the inaccurate appearance.

Though they use black holes to serve their purposes, science fiction writers are often incorrect—if one compares them to the current black hole theory.

However, there are too many unknowns to be able to say that they are completely wrong. Scientists in the astrophysics department use their imaginations as well as science to define how a black hole should function and look. In this they are similar to science fiction writers.

So what is a black hole? It is as its definition states. It is also a creation from the human mind, buttressed by math, science, other theories, and fact. The scientist’s black hole and the writer’s black hole are essentially the same things: objects based on what’s known and someone’s imaginings.

Hotel Sudan

2005-01-31T23:11:00.000-05:00

...may or may not exist, but the situation tolls the familiar bells of Rwanda.

"A Sudanese family waits for humanitarian aid in Morni camp in Darfur. The U.N. Security Council passed a resolution on July 31 threatening sanctions against Sudan if the government doesn’t disarm the Janjaweed militia within 30 days."

With one race, the Arabs, determined to wipe out another, the Black Sudanese, the fact remains that people are making too big a deal out of the word "genocide." Whether or not it falls under the definition doesn't change the fact that people are being displaced, terrorized, and killed. Thousands have died, and the millions who weren't murdered live, but live in Hell. What difference does it make to them whether certain protocols are followed, certain procedures stuck to? All they want is for the atrocities to stop.

"Displaced Sudanese women line up to receive food at Kasab Internally Displaced People's camp near Kutum in this July 2004 photo. The United Nations World Food Program plans to air drop 1,400 tons of food to several sites during August."

Though there is no way short of arresting and detaining every militant and potential militant out there to guarantee an end, the UN could be doing more than sitting around with their reports and speaking of peace talks between the government and the rebels. Sending in UN Peacekeeping troops may be an obvious answer, but that may do no more than anger the rebels even more. Sanctions could work, and the UN would probably impose them if it weren't for the greed of certain countries, including, sorry to say, China. Whether the Sudanese government had any hand in this wouldn't matter, because either way, they would be compelled to stop it. If the bureaucrats and diplomats could consider the human rights violations over the economics of Sudan, then perhaps an end could come sooner.

"A boy waits to see a doctor Wednesday, August 4, in a camp 50 miles from Aljinena, the capital of the western Darfur region of Sudan. Government-equipped Arab militias, known as Janjaweed, sent to fight rebel groups have killed 30,000 black Sudanese, the United Nations says, and displaced about 1.2 million people. The U.N. calls this the worst humanitarian crisis in the world."

Here's a new and original thought: why not say the Sudanese have weapons of mass destructions, shelter Al Qaeda, use that as a pretense to invade, overthrow the government and dismantle the army, keep their oil in the back of our minds, cause people who had nothing against us to hate us, cause people to suffer even more, and make things worse? Oh wait... we already did that. With Iraq.

Hotel Rwanda

2005-01-28T23:44:00.000-05:00

Hotel Rwanda, written by Keir Pearson and Terry George, is a tragic film, based on a true story, about one man's efforts to stem the slaughter wreaked upon his country by ethnic cleansing. Paul Rusesabagina (Don Cheadle of Ocean's Twelve) runs a four-star oasis for the rich. Though he is a Hutu and occasionally tunes into ITLM Hutu Radio, a station that broadcasts propaganda against the Tutsis, he is married to a Tutsi and personally couldn't care less about his country's civil problems.

The "races" in question are the Hutus, the rebels, and the Tutsis, the victims. According to the film, it all started when the Belgians came to Rwanda and picked out the most European-looking (thinnest nose, palest skin, etc) Rwandans to work for them. Even after the Belgians left, the Hutus and Tutsis remained divided, even though, at first glance, telling them apart is like trying to differentiate between Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen (before they dyed their hair).

Until he finds refugees fleeing towards his hotel and the bodies of his neighbors in the yard, Paul disregards the tough talk and muttered warnings. But when faced with reality, he immediately uses every foreign contact and monetary asset available to keep the more than 1,200 refugees safe. His heroic actions are uplifting, but the true heartbreak of the film is not only did the events occur little over a decade ago, but the rest of the world turned its back. "You're not even a nigger," Colonel Oliver (Nick Nolte) grumbles when explaining why the European interventionists cannot stay, "you're African."

Don Cheadle, nominated for a Best Actor Oscar and a scene stealer in any film, carries the film with his stunningly realistic performance as a reluctant and desperate hero-reluctant to get into trouble and desperate for aid that will not come. He begins and ends the film as a tower of strength, but while he begins the film with an air of arrogant elitism, he ends it with an aura of power and wisdom. And while presenting leader, cool, collected, and intense, before others in his bribes, orders, and threats, Cheadle reveals Pauls soft heart, sickened by the sight of so many dead, in close-up after close-up, finally collapsing after a traumatizing supply run in which he thought his driver had gone off the road but found that the road was, in fact, covered with bodies. But the breakdown is brief, and minutes later, Cheadles composed figure goes on to run his hotel-turned-refugee-camp.

The film itself, in its moving and damning presentation the plight of the Rwandans and the absurdity of the world community, could surpass any Holocaust movie in shear poignancy. It has often been likened to Schindlers List, but adds to the overall sadness a sense of outrage and perhaps guilt that the world knew and didnt care. If people see this, theyll say, oh my God, thats horrible, and go right on eating their dinners, explains Jack wearily after showing Paul footage of a massacre.

In the end, Paul succeeds in saving the refugees at his hotel, but not before spending hundreds of thousands to bribe the rebels to spare the lives of strangers, contacting and shaming every influential person he had ever kissed up to, and threatening the general of the Rwandan army with the very thing he is deprived of: world attention. "They say you lead the massacres!" he cries, explaining that the general would be charged with war crimes and that he could exonerate him. "I will tell them NOTHING unless you help me!"

But beyond the tale of heroism is a stark and painful truth that every superpower citizen, cozy at home in front of the television, knows about various atrocities in the world, both then and now in Sudan, and that so many choose to ignore them. What makes Hotel Rwanda the saddest film of the year is not only the fact that nearly a million people died for next to nothing, but that so many refused to help and still do so. It does more than simply break your heart. It shatters it.

FRiK Productions Film Club's Campaign Posters

2005-01-27T23:21:00.000-05:00

To attract attention to FRiK Productions, Stacey and I designed several campaign posters involving popular movies and cameras. The images were taken off of websites and edited using Adobe Photoshop Elements 2.0.

Week 14 - Peace for Once

2005-01-26T22:09:00.000-05:00

The guys were amazingly and stunningly well-behaved today. There were some scuffles in the beginning involving glove-throwing and yelling, but they actually paid attention to the Moonlight Serenade Behind-the-Scenes featurette for Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. That they watched and listened with few loud noises and answered the questions about it mostly correctly was a complete and utter surprise. Of course, there were those who walked in and out to go to the bathroom or get a drink or a tissue, but that cannot be helped for any class (except those in which the teacher is a total pain).

After entertaining them with a blooper reel, we showed the first half hour of the film, then gave them a mini quiz: What aspects were considered in designing the skeletal monkey? How many different ways was the Moonlight Serenade shot? What was established by Will throwing the sword? etc.

We also gave them a brief and easy assignment: watch a movie, write a synopsis, and write a response. We chose movies for them to pick from to make sure they didn't make something up, although we're pretty sure they'll like them: Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Matrix, Rush Hour, Fast and Furious, Fight Club, Napoleon Dynamite, and any Adam Sandler movie (they're all about the same, in my opinion). The duration of the film (rounded up) will count toward their hours.

Stacey and I also discussed community service possibilities. Her idea is to raise money for Film Aid International, a film-based charity that helps civilian victims of war. I believe a raffle would be our best shot. I was thinking we could either order a film prop from eBay or get a very desirable DVD set (i.e. Lord of the Rings extended editions).

If everything goes to plan, then the next time we meet, everyone will have their assignments completed, we'll continue dissecting Pirates, and we'll begin brainstorming fundraising strategies...

NC 2002 Ice Storm

2005-01-26T16:57:00.001-05:00

These photos were taken after the NC Icestorm of 2002...

Natalie Portman wins a Golden Globe

2005-01-26T16:29:00.000-05:00

Natalie Portman wins a Golden Globe... then goes on to nab an Oscar nomination. Not bad someone who managed to edge into the film industry at 12, ace all her classes while becoming an international star, graduate from Harvard, campaign for John Kerry, and retain her dignity while being absolutely stunning on screen. Though up against many talented, more seasoned actresses, her surprise win was well-deserved and, for many fans, long-awaited since her last nomination for Anywhere but Here. The role she played in Closer as a stripper was not only a break from the good-girl roles she's clung to since receiving perverted fan mail for her role in Leon, but was also a complex character that, given the wrong actress, could easily come off as slutty. Natalie Portman, however, carries her character's position with a strange power and dignity that fully illustrates her talent.

Week 13- Shots and Complaints

2005-01-20T22:50:00.000-05:00

I was hoping that with Eric's departure would come a little more sanity. It came, but in the form of demands. Stacey had put together a nice video explaining camera angles and various shots (such as dutch angle, over-the-shoulder, and western) and had planned to practice these shots after the lesson. However, one student had rented a copy of Scorsese's Goodfellows or something like that. Whatever the case, he insisted that we watch it, and, of course, the rest of the guys egged him on. So we had no choice but to scrap our plans. I have nothing against the film, which I have never seen but am sure must be good because it's Scorsese's, but have they the right to simply demand that we watch it because one student happened to have it that day? The arrogance, the waste! If watching movies is all they want to do, then why bother with FRiK? After we agreed to the film, many others began naming movies they wished to bring in to watch. The only merit to allowing them to sit around and watch movies is that they're actually QUIET. Unfortunately, that means that we're not getting much career awareness done. Next week's plan is to go over CGI and visual effects. Whether anyone listens or not is... questionable.

On a more positive note, there were three exceptional students who wanted to make a silly but creative feature of their own based on a few random props Stacey had provided them the week before. Happily, it was filmed and awaits post-production.

The Aviator

2005-01-15T22:16:00.000-05:00

Martin Scorsese’s The Aviator, nominated for six Golden Globes and winner of three, Best Actor—Drama, best Motion Picture—Drama, and Best Score, harkens back to the zenith of Hollywood glitz in the 1920s-1940s. And Howard Hughes (Leonardo DiCaprio) seems to have it all: wealth, fame, and Katherine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett). He the sole heir to a fortune, which he spends liberally on filmmaking and aviation.

But The Aviator, written by John Logan, focuses on the shadow behind the shining figure, the dark side of the glamorous man. It tracks the rise, fall, and seeming rebirth of Hughes from the production of his film Hell’s Angels to the test flight of his mammoth flying boat, the “Spruce Goose,” as he romances the likes of the vivacious Katherine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett) and the gorgeous Ava Gardner (Kate Beckinsale), discovers starlets such as the platinum blonde Jean Harlow (Gwen Stefani) and the sweet young Faith Domergue (Kelli Garner), and fights the villainous Pan Am executive Juan Trippe (Alec Baldwin) and the corrupt Senator Ralph Owen Brewster (Alan Alda) over the rights of his budding airline, TWA, to fly internationally. Beneath the charming good looks and fierce confidence shown to the public, Hughes is an obsessive-compulsive man tormented by financial trouble and burdened by ruthless paparazzi. “Show me all the blueprints” he repeats over and over as he battles his intense need for perfection and control, and his head seems to burn as he systematically destroys every article of neatly folded clothing he owns. And yet he is able to pull himself together after a devastating plane crash in time to face off against some of the nation’s most powerful people.

DiCaprio’s powerful depiction of Hughes’ intense personality is a far cry from his well-known role in Titanic. His articulate and mature and tragic performance causes the audience to unwittingly support his every whim, from his determination to release his “dirty” film The Outlaw to his disturbing need for a single crumb to be removed from an associate’s lapel, from hiring Professor Hitz (Ian Holm) to find cloud formations against which to shoot a flight sequence for Hell’s Angels to cross-examining Senator Brewster at a public hearing.

In his impeccable performance, DiCaprio is aided not only by his superb costars and a stirring score by Howard Shore, but also by Scorsese’s meaningful screen designs, which flawlessly force every dirty fingerprint and blinding camera flash into the face of the unsuspecting audience to create sympathy for Hughes’ unfortunate mental state. Scorsese also employs grainy old-fashioned newsreels and archaic-looking shots that imitate the color film of the era to take the audience back in time. As the film progresses and Hughes ages, the color becomes more and more refined.

Gut-wrenchingly brilliant, The Aviator is one of Scorsese’s most brutal films as it traces the battle between the inner daemons haunting Hughes from childhood to manhood as well as the fight against his human adversaries. It’s also surprisingly graphic for a PG-13 rating, featuring non-sexual nudity, a violent crash sequence, language, and the best placed F word in film history. And at the end, Hughes glowers at the camera as he determinedly repeats “the way of the future,” as if to remind the audience that no matter what troubles or madness the world throws at him, he will always defeat it

Week 12- A Regime Change

2005-01-13T15:22:00.000-05:00

Eric declared his resignation from his post as Third Triumvir of FRiK Productions Film Club, leaving Stacey and me as co-presidents. He did not declare any particular reason other than that he had only joined in the first place in order to get college recommendations or something to put on his resume. I guess he just got sick of spending his Wednesdays in a room with a bunch of sophomores and two girls who don't want to joke about the whole time.

Stacey wanted them to take three props and devise a quick film using them. Only three people were interested. The rest watched The Matrix Reloaded... sort of. Most were doing their homework or their journals/midterms, but I was content so long as they were quiet. Stacey had a prior engagement, leaving me in charge. Since The Matrix trilogy is her area of expertise and not mine, I was unable to hold any sort of discussion about it. Not that they were interested. When I asked what they wanted to do with the club, few had reasonable responses. Next week, Stacey and I were hoping to teach them about camera angles. Wish us luck.

Week 11- More Filming

2005-01-07T15:19:00.000-05:00

This week, we attempted to shoot some footage for various "commercials." We also shot a scene to wrap up the failed Chem project, turning it into a two-minute spot rather than the 15 minute short film it was. The boys were relatively cooperative...when they were listening. They were unhappy when they heard about the midterm, and they accused Eric, Stacey, and me of having done nothing, thereby screwing them over. When we tried to reassure them, we only got more indignant protests. How can they expect us to get anything done with their incessant chatter?

Anyhow, considering the noise level, it was remarkable that we were able to get the footage we wanted. Since Stacey is the one with it all in her camera, and since she's the one with Final Cut Pro at home, it's up to her to edit it together. I hope she can do it soon so they can see what's potentially possible with only a few seconds of footage.

Week 10 - New Project

2004-12-19T21:25:00.000-05:00

Because of their complete and utter lack of interest in the former project, we, the triumverate of FRiK Productions, have decided to shelf the picture and start something new. This time, we broke the group into two smaller teams. As Stacey was absent in the beginning due to a field trip, Eric took over one group and I took over the other. I had trouble getting their attention, for even as I spoke (shouted, actually, for I could not hear myself over the chatter of Eric's group), most of them continued with their sophomoric conversations. Stacey came in, and we eventually got their attention long enough to design a commercial for FRiK. It spoofed the ING and Aflac commercials as well as Forrest Gump and employed the F word in a subtle way (someone wearing a University of California- UC- tee-shirt was to sit in front of the word FRiK, covering the R and i). Stacey and my group came up with an actual plan, but Eric's group did little more than jot down what they considered hilarious ideas. I'm really hoping we can film the whole thing next week, for it's quite simple, but I fear disruptions and lack of attention, two traits that come so naturally to sophomomore boys somehow, may delay the schedule.

Week 9-- The Unravelling Begins

2004-12-12T22:48:00.000-05:00

This week's FRiK Production was chaotic. We tried to shoot closeups, but it didn't work the way I'd hoped. First of all, no one was quiet when we yelled "quiet on the set." Secondly, they came in unprepared and without any clue as to what we wanted them to do (we'd emailed them telling them to prepare to shoot the second page of the script). And thirdly, a certain unsavory character in the class wished to film a drug scene. Eric was all for it, and Stacey and I decided to humor him and cut the scene later if necessary. However, it got out of hand. We did numerous reshoots, each time adding more and more. I tried to get them to move on, but they didn't want to. They were having the times of their lives, and Eric seemed to be part of the problem. He was certainly enjoying himself. In the end, we achieved very little, in my opinion. The script is about 14 pages long, but Eric thinks we've done enough and should focus instead on things along the lines of shorts and music videos. While I would like to make a feature-length production of at least 15 minutes, I'm afraid that I have to agree. We simply can't hold their attention long enough to do something as big as this, and music videos etc would give them a chance to exert their creative talents, if they actually bother to realize they have any.

Closer

2004-12-06T01:09:00.000-05:00

Based on a play by Patrick Marber and directed by Mike Nichols, Closer, a combination of comedy and drama, takes the viewer inside the relationships between four people: Dan (Jude Law—Alfie), Alice (Natalie Portman—Garden State), Larry (Clive Owen—King Arthur), and Anna (Julia Roberts—Mona Lisa Smile). It is a story of love, lust, obsession, intimacy, deception, and betrayal that details the beginnings and endings of relationships as the characters fall in and out of love.

The opening scene, which involves Dan and Alice, complete strangers eyeing each other in a crowd, ending up together after Alice gets hit by a car, embodies the theme that love is an accident waiting to happen. A scene or two later, Dan, unscrupulously approaching Anna, his photographer, and kissing her, symbolizes the idea that intimacy is a lie we tell ourselves. And when Larry and Anna get together as a result of a practical joke perpetrated by Dan, the notion that love can be found anywhere, anytime.

Every character uses the “L” word at least once, but it is difficult to tell whether they mean it. “I love you, I love everything about you,” Larry tells Alice after being rejected by Anna, and yet he uses her as a weapon against Dan.
Although Julia Roberts and Jude Law, who both demonstrate their acting talents, would be considered the leading actress and actor of this film, Clive Owen and Natalie Portman are the ones who really stand out. Portman’s Alice is both innocent and nasty, being the first one hurt by Anna and Dan's affair and the second to seek revenge. She comes off as the wisest and least nasty of the four, but that doesn't mean she's clean. On the contrary, Owen’s Larry is very nasty. His obsession with and devotion to Anna is very genuine, and when he finds out about the affair, he interrogates her in a way so crude and tough it would put any police interrogator to shame. He comes off as the cleverest, the one who knows how to play one lover against the other and come out on top. Although Anna and Dan are the two that begin the battle of affections, Alice and Larry are the ones who play the game and end the war.

In the end, Closer is an stinging and cynical look into the nature of human relationships. Beautiful and ugly, funny and depressing, it is perhaps the most intense and emotionally bruising film of the year.

For more information, visit the official site.

Week 8-- Filming

2004-12-03T19:38:00.000-05:00

So far, so good, I guess. We tried to shoot a short classroom scene in which a fear-inducing teacher hands back quizzes to an intimidated class. It was good that everyone was involved, but the bad thing was that before shooting, most people had absolutely nothing to do. There was one camera, Stacey's, and Eric was setting up the fancy lighting equipment while I tried to get them to rehearse. Needless to say, it was difficult to get their attention. Nevertheless, they all quieted down when the director, Stacey, yelled "action." Although I would consider this week a success, I have doubts as to whether it will work for when we do closeups. Also, I'm worried because so many people have next to nothing to do. I would like for there to be more cameras around, plus someone with a slate and a group off in a corner writing additional scenes or shooting their own closeups, but Stacey and Eric don't seem too keen on that idea. I think they trust the sophomores even less than I do.

Week 7--Still Holding Their Attention

2004-11-27T16:03:00.000-05:00

We finished Dazed and Confused and gave them a short quiz on a few details such as how the characters are introduced, how the time period is set up, and such just make sure they were paying attention. They did pretty well on the quizzes and devoted their full attention to the crude humor of the film. Eric, who was absent last week because of an emergency at the TV station he works in, did what Stacey and I had attempted last week: he explained the elements of filmmaking that I'm sure the sophomores couldn't care less about.
I'm hoping to shoot next time we meet. The script is there and the cast has been chosen, but I'm not sure as to whether these boys can actually focus and make a film. We'll see.

Week 6-- We Got Their Attention

2004-11-18T18:58:00.000-05:00

This week in FRiK Productions Film Club, we showed the sophomores the film Dazed and Confused in hopes of teaching them something about shot composition, setting, lighting, etc. Since it deals with high school students doing drugs, going to parties, getting hazed, and generally being nasty to each other, they were certainly interested in the movie. Unfortunately, they were not at all interested in what we had to say about the art of filmmaking. Or if they were, they were too busy gazing at the TV screen to comment on it. Fortunately, there were no real disruptions other than the kind of comments you can expect from a group of sophomore boys.

Week 5- Plan in Progress

2004-11-08T15:31:00.000-05:00

The last meeting was a while ago, and I still think the boys have serious discipline issues. Even after the pop quiz, which quieted them for half a minute, they continued to yell and scream and whatnot. However, we did manage to hold auditions for and cast the film we are planning on making, which is a short, artsy film contrasting two classes of the same subject but with very different teachers. Whether the project will be successful depends, unfortunately, on these boys. I think some of them actually are serious, but are corrupted by the disruptive ones.

Eric has a community service project for us. Since he works at a TV station, he's found us a job making a short PSA on construction at PHS. I have a queer feeling that it will be us doing his job for him, but what the heck. My only concern is that we will have twenty some people and about two cameras. Perhaps we can have half the class doing the PSA and the other half blocking the film.

Week 4- We're Getting Nowhere

2004-10-20T15:31:00.000-04:00

I think the biggest problem with FRiK Productions (a.k.a. Film Club) is that most of the sophomores are, well, sophomoric. They don't see this as a class, and they don't realize that we drag ourselves in every day and put up with them for their own sakes. If they could realize that if they fail this, they will not graduate, then they will pay attention.

Today, we broke the sophomores into three groups to discuss jobs, cinematography, and storyboards. I was hoping these small, focused groups would be, well, focused. As the leader of the storyboard group, I wanted to summarize the script and let them give me their ideas for different shots. Unfortunately, the kids insisted upon doodling on their storyboards or saying that they can't draw and proceeding to chitchat. Others spent the entire time carping about the script, which I wrote. They had "ideas," such as adding a kid who smoked pot, or a teacher beating a kid, or a teacher raping a kid. They complained that we were getting nothing done and I was saying nothing useful while they did nothing and talked over me. If this were a real filmmaking class under Mr. Gallagher, I don't think they would be quite as insubordinate.

A few of the kids were actually focused, and I was thankful for that. There were some who actually wanted to make a film for the sake of the film. Others, however, insisted that the script, which I wrote, was terrible and that their own ideas were much better. When I told them that things had to be appropriate for a school, they scoffed.

I have a plan. Next week, I will bring in an attendence sheet and mark those who are disruptive absent, thus failing them for the day. I will also bring in a quiz. If they fail the quiz, then they can only pass for the day if they are well behaved. If they fail more than five days, they will fail for the semester.

After all, isn't failure what keeps normal kids in line?

FRiK Productions Week 3

2004-10-11T20:49:00.000-04:00

My goal for this meeting was to get the members, all of them sophomore boys, to brainstorm and come up with some plans for a long-term filmmaking project. However, between the shouting out and eager yelling, all we got were a few general categories: spoof, documentary/mockumentary, advertisement, talk show, and remake. I told them to email me with ideas, but unfortunately, nobody did, leaving me to come up with one.

The second half was more successful. They actually quieted down when Eric showed some films he made over the summer at a film camp he did. However, I'm still hoping to get them more involved in the actual filmmmaking method and not just the execution of it.

Day 2 of FRiK Productions

2004-09-29T15:30:00.000-04:00

Whether the "official" club name will be used in the actual film is still a question, but at least we have accomplished something in the second meeting. I thought we would walk in today and discuss ideas for a short film, shoot some footage for it, and watch a few sample clips from work done by Stacey or Eric. However, after Eric forgot or lost his DVD, things took a different turn.

The announcement was that we would shoot an art film/music video. Someone said we should do a public service announcement on bullying. A spoof PSA, that is. Our message? Bullying leads small people to take over the world. So we split into two groups, down the center of the room. However, most of Stacey and my half of the room defected to Eric's side. All our members are boys. Figures.

Both "PSA"s were extremely short. They were funny in a sort of stupid, slapstick kind of way, but fun enough for this roudy bunch. We got all the footage we needed for 2 3-minute films, so that's good. I only hope we can eventually make a real film, a long-term project. However, I think we'll end up doing little fun things like this for a while...

First Week of FRiK Productions

2004-09-28T15:17:00.000-04:00

Princeton High's FRiK Productions (a.k.a. Film Club) was built on the ashes of last year's Film Group, which ended up doing nothing but watching movies... sometimes. So Stacey Weingarten and I, two former club members and movie buffs, took over when last year's leaders graduated. What we envisioned and what I see in our future are not exactly paralell. For one thing, we welcomed a new leader on board on the day of the sign-up: Eric Sagotsky. Number two: the people who signed up were practically all guys. and The third reason: the school's not cooperating.

When I posted 20 flyers featuring full-colored parodies of popular films along with club details, I never imaged 29 people would show up. And when I volunteered to type up the sign up sheet, I regretted the decision as soon as I saw the first scribbled email address. More than one that I sent out telling the members where our first meeting would be was returned because I got the address wrong.

The first day was okay, I guess. Half of the sign-ups were no-shows, and we had two walk-ins, one long after everyone had left. It's amazing how quickly a room can empty, but I suppose confining a bunch of practically-freshmen sophomores to an English room after school would produce such a result. This bunch was actually enthusiastic about filmmaking, which was nice. They were interested in all different areas, as our survey revealed, and that was great, because we were worried that no one would want to act or everyone would want to direct or something along those lines.

Somehow, we got kicked out of our room (and were denied access to the school computers), and so I had to email everyone again as to where our second meeting would be. I hope people check their email. I'll post flyers again... just in case.

Mysterious Orange Box

2004-09-15T15:59:00.000-04:00

“Consciousness,” Gabriel began, his verbose, cadenza-riddled speech at long last coming to a finale, “is a mystery. The masterminds of the world have wondered for ages: what is conscious? Humans and animals, for sure. But what about air? Water? Stone? Some would argue that they, too, are conscious, that they, too, are able to sense that they exist. Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, dramatically turning his attention to his audience for the first time. “I have spent the past five years studying this matter and have created…” Feeling the suspense and excitement swell inside, he let his voice trail in a slow crescendo for an unreasonable amount of time. When he finally continued, he announced, fortissimo, “a conscious box.”
With a grand sweep of his arm, Gabriel reached over to the table beside him and threw up blood-red cloth, which had been covering—a box.

The cloth rippled in the air as sank to the dusty wooden floor. And the box—the hard, smooth meter-cubed box—made of an unidentifiable orange material.
The audience was tacet. Then, Ginger the dog lifted herself off her belly and into a sitting position. Woody the cat lifted a dainty paw and cleaned it with his sandpaper tongue. And Gabriel’s reflection in the mirror on the other side of the room broke into a smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, squatting down so that he was at their level. “I need you to listen carefully.”
Ginger stood up on all fours, and Woody looked up with his paw still dangling before his mouth.

“This box,” Gabriel continued, “knows that we’re here. Not by mere audio and visual reception, but by something far more subtle. This box can feel our presence. It can sense what we’re doing and saying, but it cannot respond. It can perceive our presence and be aware of its own being, it knows whether we’re angry or happy or sad. But to us, it is no more than a mysterious orange box.”

* * *

For the longest time, the box had simply sat there, feeling only Gabriel’s spectrum of emotions and the occasional flicker of interest of one of his pets. They were friendly, but uninteresting. Bored beyond the anything-for-action point, it had taken to advancing itself.

Gabriel had never intended for the box to develop a life of its own—an everlasting life, a fermata in the symphony of the universe. He had never intended it to hear every word, see every action, and long to be a part of it all. It was to be, strictly speaking, no more than a box that could detect its existence.
But the box had a mind, tortured. It was a cognizant being trapped in an inanimate body. When it had first reached the fully conscious stage and realized the truth of its eternal imprisonment, it had been in anguish!

But as time rolled by, it learned to shut away its pain and enjoy life as a spectator.

Within the safe confines of Gabriel’s laboratory, it quietly had observed the comings and goings of the three other living members of the household until one day everything changed.

It had long ago found out from Gabriel’s mutterings that he was an impoverished genius who toiled away during the day and delighted in his own secret brilliance by night. It had known for the longest time that money was an essential element in human life, and that Gabriel was often short of it, and that when he was unable to produce enough money for someone who wanted it, that person would either get very angry, take something away, or both.

It never imagined that it would be one of those objects taken away.

But one day, several foreigners banged open the door, marched into the room, and began taking everything out—everything. The box, puzzled, tried to discern what was going on by eavesdropping.

Evicted.
Failed to pay his rent for too long, and now we have to empty his apartment so the landlord could rent it to somebody else.

Now what is this?

Box, stupid.

Pretty light for something so big…

The box felt itself being carried outside and dumped into a pile by the side of the road with Gabriel’s other belongings, including Ginger and Woody.

Fear is what the two pets were feeling. But beneath the fear was confidence—confidence that Gabriel would soon come back and make things right.

But the box couldn’t help but be afraid for the first time in its life. Before, everything had always been the same. Now suddenly it was out in the open world. The absurd world.

The most excitement the box ever had was listening to Gabriel fiddle away on his cheap violin. The chords and cadences had been thrilling, and the box felt that it could almost hear the violin speaking through its music.

However, listening to a violin paled when compared to being outside. It was exhilarating, it was terrifying.

Ginger and Woody didn’t seem to mind the stares of a million eyes, but the box wanted to cower under the looks of the passersby. It wanted to fly away and hide.
They stared at its obscenely bright orange color. Knocked at its surface of unidentifiable matter and wondered, what is it? What does it do? Who would want such a thing?

Embarrassment.

Don’t they realize that I can hear them? Can’t they see that that things are bad enough without their caustic words?

A kid on a bicycle, now that’s gotta be the weirdest thing I’ve seen since my science teacher!

A skeletal lady in a miniskirt, that color is so disgusting, and if anyone, like, tries to use it, I’ll personally sue them.

A man walking his dog, I always knew the guy was mad, but I never thought his stuff was too!

Misery. After a few hours, the box honestly wished that it had never been created.

Suddenly, a car screeched to a halt beside the pile, and an old woman got out of the
passenger side. She mumbled as she approached it, what a waste. Who would throw away all this good stuff? Hey, old man, get out of there and help me load this orange box into the back.

Now what do you want with that ugly, useless thing?

Shame.

We need a nightstand, and this box looks big enough to serve as one.

So why don’t you search for a proper one instead of hauling in that junk?

Indignation. Anger. The box was sick of listening to people trash its very existence. It wanted to stand up and yell, leave me alone!… but it couldn’t.

They cost too much, and the ones people throw out are usually too broken or rotten. Besides, we could use a little color, so get off your lazy bum and help me load this.
Grumbling about his wife’s eccentricity, the old man reluctantly got out of the driver’s seat and accosted the box, what are you staring at?

The box was astounded. Had the old man actually seen its glare, heard its words? But the old woman said, you know there’s no use in talking to things that can’t hear you.

It helps, the old man replied, rubbing the top of the box with the palm of his hand. Strange. Probably some new kind of commercial plastic trash.

Sturdy enough. You take that end I’ll take this one.

Surprisingly light, the old man commented as he and his wife moved the box towards the back of their car.

The box realized that it was being stolen. It turned to Ginger and Woody, who had each found comfortable spots and started napping, and tried to cry out, stop them!

But no sound came out, and neither animal moved.

The box watched helplessly as the trunk was opened and it was put in. More stuff was dumped on top of it, before the trunk door slammed shut, and soon the box found itself being driven away from everything it had known. From the window, it watched as the apartment buildings disappeared, and were replaced by trees and fields and other cars.

The world was so vast. Even if I could move, the box thought, I would never be able to find its way back.

When it arrived and was unloaded, the box was in a strange place. It had never seen a house before, especially one so small. When the old couple attempted to move it through the front door, it banged into the doorframe. The old couple tried again and again to get it through, each time at a different angle.

You’re hurting me, the box complained. Stop.

As the couple continued trying to get it through, the box began wishing it were not only somewhere else, but something else. It sighed, why couldn’t I be something respectable, purposeful? Why does the violin case get to protect the instrument and the laundry basket get to hold the clothes while I sit around? If I actually were a proper nightstand, then maybe these people wouldn’t crash me into their door!

When the old couple gave up, the old man said, maybe I can saw off the ends and make it fit.

Horror.

Don’t bother. It’s an ugly box anyways. Pity we dragged it all the way from town for nothing.

By then, the box had grown somewhat accustomed to the insults. If they like being evil, then let them be evil. A few minutes later, it was sitting on top of a bunch of full garbage bags and waiting at the end of the driveway to be taken to the dump.

Before the garbage truck came, though, a strange looking car covered in pictures of fire and ice passed, stopped, backed up. A young woman with green hair stepped out of the driver’s side.

She walked towards the box, excellent.

Noticing the old couple, who were still unloading, the young woman cried out, hey!
Mind if I take this?

The old woman shouted back, go ahead, though I don’t know why you’d want it. Goodness, what did you do to your hair?

The woman laughed and shook her head. Old timers. They simply don’t understand our generation.

The woman took it and put it in front passenger seat of her car, since the back was jammed with all sorts of queer objects.

The box had always assumed that everyone was like Gabriel—well intentioned but absentminded. A few hours on the street had convinced it that Gabriel was exceptional, and that everyone else was a narrow-minded critic. This woman, however, was the exact opposite. Though the box found nothing strange about her, the old woman’s reaction had convinced it that she must be different from ordinary people.

It soon changed its mind when she parked her car in front of a two-story house with a yard full of statuettes comprised of old household items. There were two other cars in the gravel driveway, both covered in pictures. The woman called out, you’ll never guess what I found in someone’s garbage!

A man with a carroty Mohawk and a bald woman appeared from behind one of the cars.
The passenger door was opened, and the box found itself being stared at by the two new people. The bald woman touched it and made the now-familiar comment, what’s it made of?

The green-haired woman shrugged, no idea, but I want to make it into something.

Again, horror. The box shuddered internally, why do they want to cut me up? Would they cut themselves up and make themselves into statues?

With this shade, I could make that into a really ghetto violin.

Horror turned to interest. Excitement…and fear. Being banged against a door had been painful enough. How could it stand the slow, painful process of being sawed?

* * *

Six weeks later, the box was no longer. Now a full size violin with a bird-head for a scroll, it was known by the artists as the Hippy Fiddle.

Can’t expect it to sound too great.

You never know.

I guess we’ll find out tonight. Is everyone coming?

Of course, who’d want to miss the party of the century?

Upon realizing that parts of it would be separated from it forever, the box—violin—had concentrated its mind into its core, blocking out the parts that were being amputated. Until it was assembled, the only part of it that had been conscious was the fingerboard. Slowly, its consciousness had crept into every corner, not only into the pieces that had once been the orange box, but also the new additions—the metal strings, the glue, the fine tuners.

The violin had spent the past six weeks in a state akin to the terror of a patient undergoing cosmetic surgery without anesthetics. Throughout the ordeal, it had kept itself sane by reminding itself that even this was better than sitting in Gabriel’s room day in and day out, watching time go by.

It had been completed only two days earlier, and then the woman had tried to paint it. That had been the most amusing experience the box—violin—had ever undergone: watching the woman puzzle over why none of her paints would stick. Didn’t she realize that it didn’t want to be recolored? Finally, she gave up, and the violin had laughed internally. Since then, the violin had been in a state of constant anticipation, wondering whether anyone would try to play it.

When the green-haired woman had said that she would try to at the club anniversary party that night, it had been overjoyed, maybe I can speak, like Gabriel’s violin. But happiness soon turned to nervousness, she didn’t know how to make a true instrument. What if I can’t be played?

That evening commenced as a whirlwind of color as the three residents of the clubhouse were joined by their multihued friends. There was noise, lots of noise, the noise of chatter, laughter, of happiness.

The violin, sitting in its display case in the foyer, felt very blue as it watched all the young artists enjoying themselves and ignoring it except for the occasional, cool violin, or, great piece of work, or, nice color. Sinking ever deeper into loneliness, it couldn’t even find the will to appreciate the compliments.

Out of the blue, a familiar face appeared at the doorway—Gabriel! The violin, in a surge of enthusiasm, tried to call out, Gabriel! I’m here!

But Gabriel, busy catching up with his friends and explaining that he had missed the last six meetings because he had been working hard to clear his debts, passed it by. The violin felt itself sinking once more.

Then, Gabriel doubled back and stared at it, now that looks really familiar… Angelina, do you think it’s possible for me to get a closer look at this excellent
Hippy Fiddle?

Hope.

Sure, no problem.

Does it play?

Let’s see…

The violin was lifted out of the case, Gabriel! It’s me!

The green-haired woman took out the matching bow, made of amputated pieces, and began to play. The violin cringed at being stroked with its own severed limbs, and its disgust showed through the ugly note that came out. As the woman continued, the violin’s disgust turned to irritation, then anger, you hacked me up, forced me to hide, then rub my nose in it? What do you think you are?

Did you hear that?

The violin realized that its words had come out as furious notes that belied the happy song the green-haired woman had been playing. I think they understand me…

Don’t stop! Play more!

Hey, violin, you’re musical. Sing!

Sing? I can be sad, but I cannot cry, I can grow old, but I cannot die, I’m eternally trapped, but I don’t know why, I have much to say, but I cannot talk, I have places to go, but I cannot walk, I have—this is ridiculous! Gabriel! You know what I am! Stop her!

Desperation, again belying the joyful piece.

The woman stopped and stared at the violin. Gabriel tapped her on the shoulder, say, where’d you get this wonderful orange stuff?

I picked it up from some old couple’s garbage. It was a meter-by-meter box…Gabriel! Don’t hug it! You’ll crush it!

But Gabriel was laughing to hard to hear her protests, I knew I’d find you eventually! How in the world did you end up like this? Angelina, didn’t you at least put numbing cream on it before you hacked it up?

What are you talking about?

The box, silly! That box was alive! Didn’t you know?

Gabriel, you’re confusing me, how can a box be alive?

Because I made it that way!

Prove it.

Righto, try to play a funeral march, and violin, sound happy.

The violin shrugged, okay…

Weirdness. As the woman played, the violin shut itself away from the real world and imagined that it was in a land full of other live boxes that would talk to it and understand what it was feeling.

Its sound rose to an impossible pitch on the lowest string as it realized could make people understand through its sound, that it could truly speak…

Amazing.

* * *

“In short, ladies and gentlemen,” Gabriel began, wrapping up his loquacious explanation, “the violin sounds the way it wants to sound. I, personally, am happy for it. There are things that music can express that words cannot. Let’s have a warm round of applause for this lovely instrument, shall we?”

The violin seemed to glow with happiness as the foyer filled with the cheers of all the Arts Club members.

“And one more thing,” Gabriel said, interrupting them, “I must warn you that I have many more experiments with consciousness, some of which were lost when I was evicted. So the next time you decide to abuse a certain object, be careful, because it might be alive…”

Summer Films

2004-08-05T09:08:00.000-04:00

I, Robot

I was actually surprised by how much I liked this summer blockbuster. Not only were the visual effects as stunning as I expected, but the storyline was more intelligent than your average action movie. A robot-phobic cop, a part obviously tailored to fit Will Smith, is the protagonist who is unhappy with that the latest model is being released while one of their kind is suspected of murder. He realizes that the victim, the scientist who created robot technology, was trying to send him a message. As he follows clues left behind, he unearths a sinister plot, possibly by the corporation that distributes the robots. Overall, this film is highly enjoyable if you like sci-fi action flicks.

Catwoman

Critically bashed at every angle, Halle Berry's latest adventure as an insecure young woman who is given cat-like powers may be fun to watch, but only if you like loud rock music and dizzying cinematography. The camera cannot stay in one place for more than a few frames and swings all over the place in a Van Helsing-esque way. The story is begins with an artist wannabe and ends with a sleek creature of the night. They are two completely different characters, and the idea that physical gifts can also change one's mentality is not convincing. There is something of a duel personality at work here, except the line is not clear. Most of the film is quite cliche, even the bit about the corporation being the villain. That's quite common during this hot political season. But while this may not be a great film, it makes a wonderful popcorn movie if you're simply looking for something flashy and brainless.

The Manchurian Candidate

Anyone following politics knows that Hollywood is mostly left-wing. This film embodies a lot of political opinions while calling itself a remake. While I have never seen the original, it was very different, from what I hear. Denzel Washington plays an ex-soldier who becomes convinced that he and the rest of his group were brainwashed during the Gulf War. He realizes that one of his fellow soldiers, Raymond Shaw, who is the running mate for a presidential candidate (party unnamed, but most people say it's the Democrats). His mother, played wonderfully by Meryl Streep sporting a Hillary Clinton look, is obviously controlling him the way most mothers control their toddlers. It was her idea to put him on the ticket as a young, charismatic add-on to the regal-looking presidential nominee, much like Edwards is to Kerry. As Washington's character investigates further, he realizes that this is all a coup by a powerful corporation called Manchurian Global (Halliburton) to take over the White House by putting a "sleeper" in the Oval Office. This is perhaps the most thrilling political movies you'll see, and it makes politics look downright scary. It's one of the more intelligent films out there this summer, so go see it if you don't mind politics.

Interview With Myself 2

2004-07-23T16:39:00.000-04:00

I Am Still My Own Counselor

COUNSELOR MARY
Mary! You’re back! And it’s scarcely been 12 hours since our last visit. What’s your problem?

MARY THE PATIENT
Maybe I just don’t like people. Somehow, everything everyone’s been doing since last night’s been bugging me.

COUNSELOR MARY
Are you having your period?

MARY THE PATIENT
What kind of random question is that?

COUNSELOR MARY
Because sometimes the days surrounding a menstrual cycle lead to abnormal mood swings. You for instance, are usually happy-go-lucky. And now you’re moody. It was probably caused by a hormone imbalance—

MARY THE PATIENT
We can talk about the biomedics after I’m done ranting, okay?

COUNSELOR MARY
Rant away. Who’s bugging you this time?

MARY THE PATIENT
RC Rachel.

COUNSELOR MARY
Say what?

MARY THE PATIENT
Okay, in these dorms, we have what are called RCs. Residential COUNSELOR MARYs or something. Except they’re not really COUNSELOR MARYs because they do absolutely nothing other than hold late-night meetings with us to collect our ID cards so we can’t get out of the courtyard—the Quad. And redistribute them in the morning.

COUNSELOR MARY
Uh huh.

MARY THE PATIENT
Those meetings are crap. Most of it is nothing but time-wasting palaver with the ditzy girls about their day and their clothes and their dates, etc. Boys, shoes, trips, it’s all a load of garbage.

COUNSELOR MARY
Keep ranting.

MARY THE PATIENT
So RC Rachel, who is the most irresponsible of all, who has sex in her dorm, who is always out partying with her friends, comes to me one morning at 9:30 in the morning and complains that it’s too early for me to practice violin. Do you consider 9:30 early?

COUNSELOR MARY
Only on the weekends or holidays.

MARY THE PATIENT
Well, this was a class day, and most of the hall was already off. My class didn’t start until 10:00—

COUNSELOR MARY
In exactly twenty-one minutes, so hurry up, you still need to get there—

MARY THE PATIENT
Yeah, yeah. So I decided to catch some practicing time. Everyone was up and about, okay? Except… guess who? Lazy, lousy, RC Rachel. Ridiculous, really selfish Rachel. She comes banging on my door. Well, by now, I’ve gotten used to ignoring the banging because it’s damn annoying.

COUNSELOR MARY
You said something similar about classmate Kelly’s behavior.

MARY THE PATIENT
Yes, but this I can ignore because it is no more than a repeated stimulus. Habituation provides for it. RC Rachel keeps banging and banging and banging, and I’m in the middle of something, so I don’t want to stop. She sounded like a madwoman trying to get out of a loony asylum, or a demolition crew trying to break down the door. Finally, I’m worried for the door, so I get up. And she’s standing there, looking like every boy’s ditzy slutty dream as always.

COUNSELOR MARY
She told you to stop?

MARY THE PATIENT
Yes. She said it was early, and she had a splitting headache, and that I should go to a practice room. I had tried going to the practice room, since there’s only one, before, and been turned away because it was occupied. Besides, why should I have to when MARY THE PATIENT-Anne and Luisa practice in their rooms all the time?

COUNSELOR MARY
I take it you weren’t very nice to her

MARY THE PATIENT
I told her I’d stop, and I shut the door in her face.

COUNSELOR MARY
That’s not nice.

MARY THE PATIENT
No it’s not, but it served her right.

COUNSELOR MARY
Now it’s only natural to be a little upset when someone interrupts you, but people are going to keep doing it throughout your life.

MARY THE PATIENT
Kinda like I’ll always encounter whiny girls, right?

COUNSELOR MARY
Yeah.

MARY THE PATIENT
So get used to it, yes?

COUNSELOR MARY
Pretty much.

MARY THE PATIENT
Is there any helpful info you can give me?

COUNSELOR MARY
The only person who can help you with people problems is you. I can only tell you that this RC Rachel has problems of her own. Put yourself in her position. How would you—

MARY THE PATIENT
Yadda, yadda, I know what you mean.

COUNSELOR MARY
So listen!

MARY THE PATIENT
Fine then. See you next time.

Interview With Myself 1

2004-07-23T16:38:00.000-04:00

I Am My Own Counselor

COUNSELOR MARY
Now why don’t you like this classmate of yours: Kelly?

MARY THE PATIENT
I don’t know. Something about her rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s because of her arrogant, diva-like expression that’s permanently pasted to her face. Maybe it’s her whiny voice that seems to be always complaining. Or maybe it’s because when she sits behind me, which is almost always, she always sticks one big ugly foot in some open-toed shoe right beside my chair and virtually in may face.

COUNSELOR MARY
But if it’s beside your chair, how can it be in your face?

MARY THE PATIENT
Because I have a tendency to look down. Do you know how irritating it is to be tired in class, to put your head down for two seconds, and find someone’s foot there? If it were a shoe, I think I’d be okay, but it’s not. It’s this ugly foot with a swollen-looking big toe and nails that were painted too long ago to still look good. Not only that, but she has big black hairs growing out of it! It’s gross!

COUNSELOR MARY
Can you find nothing better to focus on than this foot?

MARY THE PATIENT
You don’t understand! I don’t mean to focus on it, it’s just the most visible thing in my view! And this isn’t helping!

COUNSELOR MARY
Okay. Now how have you treated this…

MARY THE PATIENT
Kelly.

COUNSELOR MARY
…Kelly?

MARY THE PATIENT
I’m not proud of my behavior. I’ve been trying very hard to drive her away. She always seems to want something from me. At first, I let her have it. I tried to be nice to her, but she kept hanging around and demanding things I didn’t want to give. Such as the time I let her watch a movie on my computer. I wanted to use it afterwards, but since she wasn’t leaving for a while, she kept watching movie after movie without my consent. And later, when I trusted her with my password, she walked into my dorm, uninvited, and used it without permission. I know how petty this sounds, but it’s damn irritating!

COUNSELOR MARY
You know that this behavior could be considered selfish

MARY THE PATIENT
I know, I know. And I know that, being a commuter, she has no home base at the university like we residents do, and so she tries to find one in my room. Unfortunately for her, I am an intensely private person.

COUNSELOR MARY
Now how does that work with your roommate?

MARY THE PATIENT
She’s out most of the time, so I’m fine with her. But this Kelly… she treats my side of the room as though it were hers. She comes in and uses my things without permission, and I don’t know…

COUNSELOR MARY
As a child, did you have this problem?

MARY THE PATIENT
Maybe. I think it started when my little sister started taking my things, and my parents would tell me to let her have it.

COUNSELOR MARY
So perhaps you got possessive because you’re afraid that if someone touches your stuff, they will take it away from you.

MARY THE PATIENT
Yeah.

COUNSELOR MARY
Are you secretive too?

MARY THE PATIENT
Yeah.

COUNSELOR MARY
Well, you strike me as one of those who like to be alone. You like to be in control of your own possessions and your own affairs, and you detest people who try to interfere. If Kelly were to stop using your things, would you like her any better?

MARY THE PATIENT
I would hate her less. There’s still the spoiled brat aspect. The way she’s always acting as though she was deprived when in fact her parents, from her description, spoil her like mad.

COUNSELOR MARY
That can’t be helped. My suggestion is to get used to it. You will meet a lot of bratty or snobby people in your life, and a lot of them will be your superiors. You know what you’re supposed to do with superiors.

MARY THE PATIENT
Act as an obsequious little angel.

COUNSELOR MARY
Well, respect them. And so if you want to avoid getting in trouble with arrogant bosses later, start by dealing with your whiny friend. Be nice. Pretend to like her. Give her subtle hints once in a while if it gets really bad so she can catch on to the fact that she comes off as being a perpetual complainer.

MARY THE PATIENT
For her own good. Just one more question: where can I find a good acting school?

Sequels

2004-07-23T16:37:00.001-04:00

Why are sequels almost always bigger, fancier, and yet inferior to the original? Of course they’re more fun, since you already know the characters, but they never seem to retain the fresh charm of the first film.

Perhaps it’s because the filmmakers try too hard to outplay the first. They throw in more humor, more visuals, and, sometimes, more emotion. Or at least they try to. They attempt to transcend their first works of genius, but rarely succeed.

For example, though Shrek 2 is wildly amusing, it somehow loses the satirical magic of the first while Spider-Man 2 was flagrantly overcooked. In their attempt to make it more emotional, the filmmakers made it lame and sappy. Instead of thrilling, it was cliché. The explosions were too big, the villain too familiar. There are numerous other examples—Star Wars, X-men, Harry Potter, even Lord of the Rings and most infamously: The Matrix.

So now I’m worried for the films I loved—Pirates of the Caribbean and Ocean’s Eleven, for example. I predict that they will be too much and yet not enough.

Hollywood, proved me wrong. Please.

Ocean's Eleven

2004-07-23T16:37:00.000-04:00

Ocean’s Eleven is a slick, sly criminal venture starring the likes of George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, and Julia Roberts. It has a smooth flow and sharp plot that blend perfectly to make an enjoyable and fun movie that plays on the ideas of loyalty and priorities.

George Clooney and Brad Pitt offer their typical performances—Clooney as a seemingly cool guy with an awkward weak spot and Pitt as an arrogant, always-comfortable leader. Matt Damon is no Talented Mr. Ripley; on the contrary, he is the newbie of the group. This role might have fit him better if he didn’t have a certain professional air. As For Roberts—she smiles a lot less than usual, and that’s actually a good thing.

Overall, the rest of the film—the costumes, makeup, cinematography, editing, and other behind-the-scenes work simply fit well into the big picture. There is no blatant breach of mood or break in attitude. Smooth-running films like this are becoming rarer and rarer in this era of blockbusters.

Ocean’s Twelve has a lot to live up to, for sure. Perhaps it can break the chain of not-great sequel and match its original.

Philosophy on Life 1

2004-07-23T16:36:00.000-04:00

This being the first time I’ve commented on life as it is from my perspective, I don’t expect it to be very good or very well explained.

Most people were taught at some point in their lives that everyone is unique, and that everyone can be a winner. Dark films such as Monster and Fight Club spit in the face of all this, uplifting films such as Disney cartoons re-teach it.

My idea is that the human race is a pyramid, with the winners on top and the losers holding them up at the bottom. This pyramid is not organized by wealth or intelligence or beauty or kindness, but rather by personal success. Those very happy people who get where they want to be in life—the SAT top-scorers, the A-list entertainers, the wealthy businesspeople and powerful public office holders—are the lucky bunch topping the pyramid. Those who had to settle for less and content themselves with a humdrum but satisfactory life are in the middle.

And the unlucky people at the bottom. Those who reached, but could not grab. Those who ran, but lost the finish line, who tried but somehow couldn’t get there.

But without the unlucky bunch at the bottom, those on top cannot stay up. For someone to win, someone must lose. Perhaps the most comforting thought about failing is that someone else is stepping on your shoulders and succeeding.

So next time you feel down, remember, someday, it could be your turn.

Fight Club

2004-07-23T16:35:00.000-04:00

Perhaps one of the strangest and most original cult films out there is Fight Club, the story of a nameless man who, having become disillusioned with his life, joins Tyler Durden in living in a rundown house and starting an underground fighting club. It’s harsh, brutal, and the philosophy is: you’re not special. You’re the “all-singing, all-dancing crap” of the world. The underground club eventually expands into a nationwide vandalism network that makes a mess but hurts no people.

The acting, the set, the costumes—everything technical about this film simply fits into the overall big picture. The cinematography and general look are what stand out the most. The camera can’t seem to sit still, going all over the place all the time. And yet there’s no dizzying spiraling used in such action movies as Van Helsing. There’s a gloomy, dark moodiness that feels cool, smooth, confident. The depressing ideas Tyler Durden teaches are very tempting to follow. It’s this whole frell-the-world attitude that no doubt made it such a cult classic.

Lost in Translation

2004-07-19T20:41:00.000-04:00

Somehow, this not-so-great film got nominated for four Academy Awards: Picture, Actor, Director, and Screenplay. It won for the last. My question: How?

Never before has such good-for-nothing crap been so critically lauded as being one of the best motion picture events of the year. The story about a couple of Americans facing culture shock in a big Japanese city maybe be somewhat original, but it is by no means good. It's hardly even funny, especially if you're familiar with Asian cultures as I am. Anything meant to be laughable is laughable because it is Japanese. Their language, accent and entertainment are all shamelessly mocked.

I will admit that the cinematography was well done in the way it captured a booming and vivacious urban culture. However, the most important screen decorators, the two lead actors, are less that perfect. Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson offer performances that neither stink nor stand out, and yet somehow both managed to grab best acting nominations and wins.

Just comes to show that the critics know nothing.

King Arthur

2004-07-13T18:04:00.000-04:00

The first thing one must remember when walking into a theater to see King Arthur is that it is a FILM. Though the opening titles claim that it's based on historical fact, such as that Lucius Artorious Castus was a real person who might have lent his name to the legend, most of this is likely to be speculation. Or more likely it was merely the writer's imagination. Guinevere and Lancelot were later inventions, and their relationship is not at all explored in the film.

It takes place in the Dark Ages, as it should. Arthur is neither a king nor a boy preparing to become one. He is a soldier, and his knights are fellow soldiers serving Rome in Northern Britain. This part was probably based more on fact than imagination. Arthur's knights are Samarian men drafted by the Romans based on a generations-old covenant, and they are all eager to finish their fifteen-year tours of duty and go back home. However, before they can, they must rescue a boy who is a favorite pupil of the Pope's. The Saxons are invading, and it is Arthur and his knights' job to make sure that the boy gets out before his village is raided.

Most of the film is dirty, brutish, and anything but fairy-tale like. Main characters die, rape and torture are clearly referenced, and a lot of time takes place in battles. King Arthur is not the feel-good summer blockbuster Pirates of the Caribbean was. It's more like a British version of Troy, but with less sun, and is as dreary as a rainy day.

All in all, I felt that it was a well made film. Clive Owen's performance as Arthur and Ioan Griffudd's performance as Lancelot were the crown jewels of the treasury of good acting. Owen's Arthur strikes you as being a true leader who really cares about his men as well as his philosophy. Griffudd's moody Lancelot seems to be the access character, for he narrates the beginning and end, and he comes across as more as just a two-sword-wielding sidekick to Arthur. The other knights' performances were not to be complained about, but it was hard to feel for them mainly because they had little to establish their characters on. The exception is probably Bors, the big man with a soft spot for children.

The Saxon leaders, Cedric and Cyrnic, were both very brutish. The facial hair and make-up was enough to make them look so, and their yelling and scowling emphasized the fact that they were the villains. However, they had no complexity to them at all. Neither did Merlin, who is no magician, but rather the leader of a native Briton group called the Woads. Keira Knightley's Guinevere is as fierce as can be, but Knightley does not have much opportunity to act. She has plenty of screentime to show off her beauty and muscles, but her character has little depth. Her key role is to forge an alliance between the Woads and Arthur's knights.

All in all, whether you like this movie or not depends on your ideas going in. If you are a hard-core Arthurian legend fan, then steer clear of this, for there is hardly anything akin to the familiar tails of chivalry we are so familiar with. If you like big Jerry Bruckheimer movies and films dealing with epic battles, then this is one you'll likely enjoy.

Bush and the Younger Generation

2004-07-13T17:56:00.000-04:00

Down with Bush! Vote Kerry-Edwards! That's the thought that's often on my mind.

The funny thing is, I'm not even old enough to vote yet. However, many of Bush's actions are affecting not only the present. What he does today will directly affect the world I will have to deal with when I am of age. His economy will make it more difficult for people like me to find a summer job now, and a real job later. His No-Child-Left-Behind act is directly affecting the schools I and my generation attend, and it's screwing up some of them.

I've been trying to convince my classmates that though they cannot go to the polls yet, they must still remain aware of what's going on inside the White House. Whose schools are not getting money because they can't pass certain tests? Ours! Whose parents, uncles, and older siblings are going to Iraq etc.? Ours! Who will be drafted in a few years if this cruel war goes on? Us! Who might not be able to live the life they choose because of his economic policies? Us! Who'll pay more to go to college? Or perhaps be unable to go to college at all, ergo ruining their prospects? Us! We, the unheard generation, will have to pay for the mistakes of today.

The fact is that Bush's errors directly affect us, the younger generation, though many are unaware or uncaring. My goal is to remind those who can vote that we need their help now if we don't want to live in a messed up America.

Kerry-Edwards

2004-07-11T09:55:00.001-04:00

Though I don’t know much about how their relationship is working out with the voters yet, I personally believe that John Kerry made a good decision in choosing John Edwards as his running mate.

It’s true that they contrast each other in every way except that they’re both in the Senate, but that is a good thing. The running mate should not be the presidential candidate all over again, but a different side to the campaign. John Edwards brings a youthful vivacity and southern charm that will certainly win over a lot of female voters. People tend to forget a candidate’s position and experience at times and focus on their appeal. John Kerry’s sophistication is all good, but he needed someone who was just plain likable.

This team of johns has a lot working to their advantage, including muckrakers such as Michael Moore and anti-Bush groups such as MoveOn.org. The president’s approval rating, when compared to that of previous presidents running for a second term, seems to categorize him in the will-lose category.

However, despite Bush’s apparent unpopularity, the Kerry-Edwards campaign must tread carefully. The Bush-Cheney team is very clever in painting a picture of a vacillating Kerry and clueless Edwards. They have the wealth of the nation behind them, and beneath the wealth are the masses.

To miss an election such as this would not only disappoint a lot of noisy liberals, but could spell doom for the Democratic Party for the next decade. Perhaps the best way to win the White House is to win the heart of the nation, whether it be by putting things in layman’s terms, showing that you know the ropes, or flaunting a likable running mate. Who knows? JFK (meaning John F. Kennedy, not John F. Kerry) won mostly because he looked better on mid-century television.

Upon Viewing It Again

2004-07-11T09:53:00.000-04:00

Spider-man 2, I mean. Most movies I form negative opinions about end up winning me over eventually in that so-bad-it’s-good way. This one, however, was completely different. I ended up jeering during the really bad parts and coming out thinking it was a basically a bunch of cliché-ridden spoofs slapped together.

I don’t know how much was intended or how much was just my overreaching far-out no-one-else-gets-it imagination, but it seemed to me that Spiderman 2 (or, as they spell it in the opening titles, Spider-Man 2) was overflowing with references to other movies. I have already mentioned the Matrix-like Doc Ock scenes. Flying cars, fighting on a moving vehicle, fighting in mid-air, slow motion—we’ve seen it. We’ve also seen the extreme cinematography featured in other big movies such as Van Helsing (where the camera goes all over the place). There were also a lot of things that reminded me of the X-men series, including the soundtrack and an Asian woman with extremely long, sharp nails (anyone remember Deathstrike?). There were a lot more than that, but I cannot spend too much time yakking about how full of it this feature was.

There was a hint of racism that may or may not be far-fetched. Not only were all the main characters white, but the few Asians featured, meaning the woman with the super-sharp nails, a really bad street singer, and a pathetic couple watching their house burn down, came off as being quite stupid. Being Asian, I, of course, noticed. I hope it was not intentional.

I must admit that the soundtrack, which featured a lot of choir music, was pretty good in and of itself. However, it was a complete mismatch for an explosive film such as this. Although some action movies, such as the Matrix and X-men movies, can pull it off somewhat, I still think choirs should be reserved for artsy films or fantasy movies. Having a chorus go up and down while Spiderman jumps from building to building simply does not fit, and having a heavenly soprano group ringing against a shot of Mary Jane makes an otherwise charming scene appear sarcastic.

Speaking of Mary Jane, whoever decided that she should get engaged to a random character we don’t care at all about probably didn’t see what a slut she comes off as. She jumps from guy to guy like a whore, and each one is more than eager to have her. Though the character of Mary Jane is anything but likable, there’s nothing wrong with Kirsten Dunst’s acting, which is quite impressive considering the horrible lines she was handed.

Though I could tell how the monologues were meant to be touching, I couldn’t help but think they were boring, obnoxious, and, of course, absolutely cliché. I pity the writer(s) because they obviously worked hard on a script that simply didn’t come off the way it was supposed to.

The entire movie didn’t come off the way it should have. What a waste of a good prequel, great cast, and excellent premise.

Diet is "Die" with a T

2004-07-07T20:59:00.000-04:00

... Garfield

Have you ever met one of those people who spends seemingly hours talking about what they eat, when they eat, how, why, and what it’s going to do to them? Who asks you how many calories do you think is in a slice of cake at your birthday party? Or how long it will take to burn off that popcorn they ate at the movie? It’s damn annoying!

And yet their obsession is not unfounded. As anyone who’s been aware of anything going on in this country at all knows, America is getting fat. While I acknowledge the importance of being fit, I cannot bring myself to think that all this hype over who’s lost weight, which model’s too skinny/fat, which actress is too skinny/fat, which girl at school or woman at work is too skinny/fat… sometimes it makes one want to stand up in a crowded place and say SHUT UP!

America has an obesity crisis, but obsessing over body image is not the solution. Spending hours on end obsessing over food may help some people’s body, but will harm there mind. Who can go about a day normally when they’re worried that the cereal/toast/bagel they ate for breakfast had too many carbs?

Skipping breakfast/lunch/dinner for dietary reasons exacerbates the problem rather than alleviates it. Why? Because it’s unhealthy. Look in any diet book or talk to any dietician and they’ll agree with me and give you the reasons. And yet, people do it. Some have valid excuses, like they didn’t have time in the morning, but those who do it to lose weight…

Personally, I think the best way to solve the obesity crisis is to change the American lifestyle. It sounds impossible, but it can be done, person by person, family by family. The government needs to kick in as well, not by taxing junk food, but by not making life as an American so goddamn stressful. Tax all you want, just don’t make it so damn complicated. And the press needs to help. Quit showing impossibly beautiful women (or men) and making it seem as though this is the only way to be.

And I’d better quit ranting before I say “damn” again…

Quality Films

2004-07-07T20:58:00.003-04:00

A lot of people don’t realize this, but a movie doesn’t have to be entertaining to be a good film, and a movie that is highly entertaining is, more often than not, anything but good, good meaning of high quality.

For example, Master and Commander was perhaps one of the most boring films I’ve ever seen and ever will see. I think that most people would agree with me. Russell Crowe spends half the time mumbling in that “British” accent he adopts, and it’s impossible to discern what he’s trying to say. The music is always the same nice but hackneyed theme with the drums etc, and it’s easy to say, “This film is bad.” Yet one cannot deny the quality of the acting, cinematography, and even screenplay. A film like this one was meant to imitate reality, and it does a good job. The problem is, probably, that it did too good a job. Reality is boring. But boring doesn’t mean bad. Far from it, Master and Commander went on to receive a few Academy Awards, including a nod for Best Picture.

And then there are entertaining films that are not exactly of the best quality. For example, Love Don’t Cost A Thing uses one of the cheesiest, most overused premises in existence. The acting is purposely and ridiculously over-the-top, and there simply isn’t anything really good about it. And yet a lot of people can’t help loving it because it’s really funny.

So I guess you don’t have to like a film to see that it’s good, and a lot of films are so bad that they’re lovable.

The Social Game

2004-07-07T20:58:00.001-04:00

Do you know all the rules? If not, then it’s like playing a lifelong game of Mao (a card game where the “dictator” knows the rules and everyone else must learn them through their mistakes), which is no fun at all after the first few screw-ups.

For a long time, I was oblivious to the fact that such a game existed. As a kid, I was idealistic and naïve, believing in the age-old notion that everything would even out in the end. But nowadays, it has become more and more clear that the difference between success and failure lies often not in how hard you work, but in how good you are at the social game—how well you know the rules.

Do you know the best way to get into an Ivy League college/well-paying job? When you first mail out your application materials, does including a picture help? Does the style of your résumé matter? And when you actually meet an interviewer, how are you supposed to act? Do you boast? Are you modest? Do you look your absolute best? Do you hold back a little? What if you’re not blessed with the gift of modern beauty? What if you are cursed with an undesirable voice? What if? How? What to do?

These convoluted and perhaps arcane details can be the difference between success and failure. The question is: how the frell do you go about learning them?

THE HOT CHICK

2004-07-07T20:57:00.001-04:00

Not all movies are viewed by choice. When your friends drag you to see something you believe profoundly stupid, you have two options: sit there and be grumpy or try to enjoy it. I chose the latter.

The Hot Chick is a movie about a popular girl and a criminal man who switch bodies magically after each getting one of a pair of magical earrings. The movie mainly follows the adventures of Jessica, the girl who wakes up a man. She recruits her friends, a science geek she had once played a cruel prank on, and a strange girl who dresses like a witch that she had once insulted. The reasons the movie gives for their willingness to help a strange gay man who claims he’s someone they know are sketchy, but work for entertainment purposes.

The script is creative in an over-the-top full-blown comedic explosion that works for slapstick laughs but fails in the sweet scenes, which are completely overshadowed by their ridiculousness. For example, when Jessica (as a man) is recognized by her little (gay) brother, tenderness was apparently in the plan. However, I couldn’t get over the fact that this strange-looking man was wearing a girl’s hot red prom dress.

The characters are absolutely idiotic, as is the premise, but if you lower your IQ by about 20 points, you might enjoy it.

SPIDER-MAN 2

2004-07-07T20:55:00.000-04:00

Although the quality of this movie was pretty good, it was as uncreative as its title suggests. Everything is absolutely predictable, and there is nothing in it that makes it stand out from any other superhero movie.

The visual effects are far more Oscar-worthy than the original’s for sure, though mainly because there are more flashy explosions and the like. Somehow, the style reminded me of that of the Matrix sequels. Perhaps it was because of the metal, sentinel-like arms of Dr. Octopus. Or perhaps it was because of the insane fight scenes all over the trains and walls that are reminiscent of Neo and Agent Smith.

The fire-and-brimstone choir music in the background, now quintessential to any action movie, really made some parts seem melodramatic, whereas the most-anticipated moment of the film, Harry unveiling Spiderman, was very anticlimactic. The romance between Mary Jane and Peter makes M.J. appear less than worthy of our hero, and it makes Peter appear quite pathetic.

Though the drama of the script falls short, the comedic sections were quite enjoyable. However, I was under the impression that this was not meant to be a comedic feature, and so the light-hearted parts did little to make up for the dramatic elements.

At least no one can complain about the acting.

Overachievement... and For What?

2004-06-29T20:14:00.000-04:00

Being at a University of Pennsylvania Summer Science Program has made me keenly aware of all the overachievement that goes on nowadays.

Recently, the world of students has changed so that it is no longer sufficient to get decent grades and do well on standardized test. Decent is now a pejorative term for many—outstanding is what they’re going for. You must get straight As… preferably A pluses. Your APs must be 5s, and you SATs must be 800s.

But that’s not all. You also have to be captain of the soccer team, of the chess club, of the local Amnesty International and a volunteer at the animal shelter. Oh, and you have to have won violin competitions, gymnastics competitions, math and science competitions. On top of that, you should be beautiful, athletic, kind, and fun to be around.

And for what?

So that colleges will accept you? Yes, and it must be Ivy League or its Southern/Western/International equivalent. Princeton and Caltech. Harvard and Oxford. That’s the way to go.

And so that your résumé will be glitteringly impressive, hopefully landing you with a well-paying job so you can be rich, rich, rich.

So those young people who are hounded by their parents, pressured by their own desires and dominated by fear of failure… those young people who rarely have a moment to spare… they do it all for future money? It makes sense.

Yet there seems to be more to it than that. I believe that what it all boils down to is the human animal’s desire to survive. Even those who do not overachieve on the academic front go out of their way to become socially accepted. Because acceptance is vital to survival and happiness, or so it’s believed.

Next time you see a kid in the newspapers, ask them: why?

"Geek"

2004-06-28T19:55:00.000-04:00

It comes from the word "fool," but now means, usually, someone extremely smart but socially inept. However, some of the self-proclaimed "geeks" I've met are quite sociable, and so I think it's time for the definition to change.

When did it stop being a pejoritive and offensive name? Perhaps when people started realizing that the "geeks" were the ones with the good grades, and in this era of overambition, good grades are dieties.

PHS Is Falling Down

2004-06-28T19:52:00.000-04:00

Have you ever read a short story written in the form of a standardized test?
................................................................................
PHS Is Falling Down
Based on a True Story

The SCHYTE (Sesquipedalian or Completely Horrible Test/ Exam)—NONFICTION WRITING

Time: 32 minutes

A. Answer each of the following in prose. Be as believable as possible.
a. Describe a crowded place from the third person POV of an observer

The ordinary-sized gymnasium of JW middle school was overflowing with students from its older neighbor, and the noise level was obnoxiously high.
As the much-hassled and much-annoyed teachers waded through the swarm of teenagers and attempted to take attendance, the principal try to talk to everybody above the clamor. He tried to tell them why the high school had been evacuated in the middle of second period, but most of the students had smelled the pervasive odor of leaking gas before the fire alarm and announcement that “this [was] not a drill.”
And so they had no need to listen and focused on their own business. Practically everyone had pinpointed their friends and migrated towards them.
By the time the principal was finished, the various groups and cliques had already designated their own lots and coalesced in and around them. Some were just talking, conversing, about people, politics, or events—all forms of entertainment. Some had their dog-eared, over-used, long-suffering decks of cards out and were merrily playing away. CD players were in abundance, as were their fancier cousins, i.e. MP3 players and iPods.
But the oddest pastime took place in a corner by the door, where someone from the orchestra class had taken a violin and was fiddling around with show tunes, movie tunes, and cool classical pieces.
Meanwhile, the teachers continued their scavenger hunts for students, all the while looking forward to the next announcement: that the rest of the school day was canceled and that the students were to be released—for the rest of the world to deal with.

b. Describe a bizarre event from the third person POV of the central character.

It was a dark, gray dawn in May, characteristic of the morning after a storm. Sophie Moore, who usually walked the mile to school, had begged a rare ride off her mom on the occasion of the AP US History Test that was to take place that morning.
She had spent the last few weeks studying like mad, going through notebook upon textbook upon review book, and she was more than ready to get it over with.
As the old red high school came into view, she wondered briefly why it seemed so empty. True, it was early, but even the usual sprinkling of staff cars was largely missing.
Nevertheless, she decided to concentrate on her last millisecond mental self quiz—1789, Washington, 96, Adams, 1800, Jefferson…
Suddenly, she realized that her mother had pulled over and rolled down the passenger window.
A blonde woman that seemed to be a teacher stepped up and informed Sophie and her mother that there was no school that day for the high school, and that the APs were all canceled. Why? There had been an electrical fire, and the lower corridors were still full of smoke. The school had lost power, and the generators were not yet working.
Last night, the school had been hit by lightning.

c. Compose a memoir featuring a chaotic scene.

For all those who detest PE class for one reason or another, the following incident will further affirm your beliefs.
Imagine a sweltering hot day, a sizzling track, and my hapless physical education class. We were subjected to not only the torture of heat, but also the attack of the “killer” cicadas, which only emerge once every seventeen years. And I was lucky enough to be a P.E. student during one of those emergences.
Despite the pleadings of several female students, the pitiless Coach “Sly” Theron told the class that whoever stayed indoors would be marked absent, and that everyone who wanted to pass P.E. had to go out to the track and either power-walk around it or play field games in its center.
So we luckless students faced terror after terror as armies of Brood X cicadas ambushed us as we passed under the trees. Visualize them—black-bodied, red-eyed, with their wings of wet spider webs, heads of demons, and deafening hellcat screeches—swooping towards you like kamikazes and landing on your skin, causing your predatory reflexes to jumpstart. Multiply that by fifty for all my really frightened peers, and you can see how easily chaos descends.
A guy with a baseball bat tried to whack them with it while his unarmed comrades simply stomped on the grounded ones. Some girls screamed as they fled their ever-persistent attackers while their braver friends cast suspicious glances around and retreated from hovering shadows.
Those who were non-cicada-phobic tried to go about their business and sometimes made fun of the fearful, who refused to go under the cicada-infested trees. Jokes were thrown around about horror movies featuring mutant forms of these creatures. The mutant part may have been far-fetched, but the horror was all too real.
Meanwhile, the cruel heat continued to press down upon us—the unfortunate victims of P.E. class.

B. The answers to the following will include dialogue. Be as realistic as possible.
a. Write a segment of a conversation between two people using only dialogue.

 Today’s June 9th, isn’t it?
 Yeah, so?
 Do you realize that we’d be celebrating the last day of school right now if we hadn’t had any snow days?
 Or hurricane days or emergency evacuation days or “there’s no school today because the school got hit by lightning” days...
 You know, I told my friends back in NC about that, about going to school in the dark in the days following, and they didn’t believe me.
 Yeah, well, this is a pretty unbelievable school. How many schools out there are hosts to hundreds of A-only accepting, Ivy-League aiming, overworking, overachieving people, the majority of which are some sort of math or music genius?
 “The majority of whom are math or music geniuses?”
 Or sticklers for grammar. My point precisely.
 Say, is that the fire alarm?
 I guess it’s time to move out… again. You know, I’m becoming pretty immune to that thing now. I don’t think this drill system works. You go out, and then you randomly go back in. What if there was a real emergency?
 There has been a real emergency.
 Yeah, and they had to tell us that it wasn’t a drill so we wouldn’t meander right back in. Well, this one had better be the drill. I’m really not in the mood for staying in this over-heated, over-humid, cicada-infested prison for an extra day…do you smell that?
 Yes… it’s like burning rubber… uh oh…

[The smell of burning rubber turned out to be from a smoke bomb that had been set off as a prank. Fortunately, school was not canceled.]

b. Write a scene that could be an excerpt from a novel.

The second bell had just rung, signaling that sixth period had just begun. Anyone who was not in the classroom at that moment was considered late. Unfortunately for the Mr. Daniels, that was usually the bulk of his Latin I class, and he, being new that year, was not yet tough enough to defy the protestations of thirty teenagers by marking the majority of them tardy.
“Class,” he said, waving his arms to get their attention. When hardly anyone responded, he repeated, “Class? Hey, when I say ‘class,’ it means ‘everybody be quiet.’ So let’s try again… class!”
Still, most people continued conversing.
Meanwhile, two key trouble students, Gabriel and Sara, casually sauntered through the door. They were apparently discussing chemistry, and, like everyone else, ignored Mr. Daniels completely.
Though a few people, such as the always straight-arrow Lavender, tried to hush the people around them, Mr. Daniels saw that it would take a few minutes for everyone to settle down. And so he decided to take attendance first and figure out who was actually absent and who was just slow at getting to class.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another trouble student, Edwin, throw a paper airplane out the window while his friend Vivien egged him on.
“Please don’t do that,” he said helplessly, even as Edwin began making a second airplane.
Sighing, Mr. Daniels looked back down at the attendance sheet. Suddenly, he saw a pencil go flying across the room.
“HEY!” he shouted—for the first time.
The class went silent.
“That’s unacceptable!” he continued, even as his newfound power abated. “What is this? I can’t even take attendance without everybody throwing things! Someone could have gotten hurt!”
Sensing that the class’s attention wasn’t going to last very long, he walked to the TV monitor, which displayed the day’s agenda, and scrolled down to the day’s English-to-Latin Translation sentence.
“Would somebody please copy that on to the board?” he asked, back to his usual persona. A few hands went up. “Uh… Sara. Go ahead.”
Meanwhile, he continued to take attendance. He became keenly aware of a towering presence hovering over his shoulder and turned to find Gabriel, who was very tall, standing over him.
“Gabriel,” he began, and was about to tell him to return to his seat when Vivien suddenly called out, “Say, what’s the word for ‘horse?’”
“It’s on your vocab list…”
“No it isn’t.”
“Isn’t it?” He looked around his cluttered desk and unearthed a copy of the vocabulary. “Oh… it isn’t. Well, it’s equus.”
“Mr. Daniels? What’s the word for ‘therefore?’”
“Isn’t it on your list?”
“No.”
“Huh… that’s strange… maybe it’s on a previous list…” As he began looking through old vocabulary sheets, he once again felt Gabriel’s towering, supercilious presence.
“Gabriel, please return to your assigned seat,” he said.
“There are certain people in this world who are very silly,” Gabriel said in his deep, accented voice. “And you,” he continued, pointing sharply at Mr. Daniels, “are one of them!”
“Gabriel!” Sara exclaimed, doubling over with laughter.
“Hey!” Lavender cried. “That’s mean! That’s so rude of you! He’s our teacher!”
“Do I have a big sign on my forehead that says ‘pushover?’” Mr. Daniel asked helplessly.
“Yes!” replied the majority of the class.
“Okay… from now on I’m going to be meaner…”
“Good luck to you!” Sara said sarcastically, still laughing. “I’m just waiting for you to morph into the Incredible Roman Hulk…”
And Mr. Daniels simply stood at the front of the room with a clueless grin on his face.

c. Write a scene that could be an excerpt from a screenplay.

2. INT. HONORS CHEMISTRY CLASSROOM—MID MORNING
An intimidating man of abnormally large proportions, PROF. DOMINICK stands at the door and watches as the last of his STUDENTS file in. It is a hot and sunny day in an un-air-conditioned building, and he is sweating profusely through his undersized clothes.

The school bell RINGS, and Dominick shuts the door loudly. Then, he goes over to his desk, opens a drawer, and pulls a pile of graded QUIZZES out.

PROF. DOMINICK
I saw a lot of really careless errors on these. How many times have I told you: keep track of your units! If you can’t do basic conversions at this point in the year, you’re in the wrong class!

He starts moves towards the rows of desks, which have strategically placed fans around them. The windows are all open, but the students are still suffering from the intense heat and humidity.

Dominick hands the first one to ROBIN, a petite but tough-looking girl. He moves past her and continues handing the quizzes to their owners.

ROBIN (O.S)
Hey, Prof. Dominick! I don’t understand this. Why did you take of ten points? What did I do wrong?

PROF. DOMINICK
Hang on.

Suddenly, one of the windows slams shut, startling XAVIER, a tall and intelligent-looking young man. Dominick smirks.

XAVIER
Oh bother it all!

DOMINICK (O.S.)
Watch out for the guillotine windows!

Dominick continues handing out the quizzes. Most of the students are looking very unhappy. Robin is looking agitated, and Xavier is muttering to himself. MART, a careless looking young man, is grinning and shaking his head as he looks at his bad grade.

MART
Hey, Prof. Dominick! Any chance of a curve?

Dominick SCOFFS loudly.

DOMINICK
No freakin’ way.

MART
What was the average?

DOMINICK
About twice your score. I think it’s something like…76, which is about where it should be. Hey, I remember your quiz. How do you multiply 3 and 50 and get 180?

MART
Ah…I probably hit the wrong button on the calculator.

DOMINICK
(yelling)
I’ve been saying it since the beginning of the year, haven’t I? Put the calculators away and get some number sense.

He finishes handing out the quizzes, goes to the front of the room, and leans carelessly against the blackboard.

DOMINICK
All right. What’re you questions?

Robin’s hand SHOOTS up first, followed by a few others.

DOMINICK
Yes, Robin.

ROBIN
Okay. I don’t understand why you just randomly took ten points off a fifteen point question. Can you please just explain it to me?

Dominick lumbers over towards her, takes her paper and casually scans over it with his eyes.

DOMINICK
(sneering)
Oh…I see what you did wrong. How many times have I told you? It’s the same thing, over and over! Keep track of your units! Metric conversions are something we learned at the beginning of the year!

He hands back her paper and moves towards the back of the room, where the biggest fan is. He moves by FAITH, a modest-looking girl, who has until now been nearly invisible. She seems to be on the verge of tears and is staring blankly at her grade of 73.

DOMINICK (CON’T)
(pounding his fist in his hand for emphasis)
If you want to stay in this class, you have to learn your units and conversions. They are a basic skill!

FAITH
(muttering)
You mean, “they are basic skills,” as are grammar rules.

DOMINICK (O.S.)
What’s that, Faith? I can’t hear you—Xavier! Turn off that fan!

XAVIER
Oh bloody hell.

Xavier reluctantly TURNS OFF the fan beside him.

DOMINICK
Faith! What were you saying?

FAITH
Yeah… just wondering… when you write these quizzes, do you design them to be done in fifteen minutes?

DOMINICK
It takes me about five.

ROBIN
Yeah, but you’re the teacher! And you still haven’t told me why my way doesn’t work!

DOMINICK
What have I told before about your way and my way? I based the answers on what I believe is correct. You wanna do it your way, you play with fire. Sometimes you get burned.

He turns his attention to Mart, who is grinning and making gestures. He is CONVERSING with a friend on the other side of the room, JACK.

DOMINICK
(shouting)
Hey! Keep that up, and we will reconvene at break in this bloody hot room! Shut up, or you can meet after school and sit here for 45 minutes and practice shutting up!

MART
Hey, we were listening!

JACK
Yeah, we really were! We heard every word you said!

DOMINICK
(pounding a lab bench for emphasis)
What part of “shut up” do you not understand? You guys need to talk in order to listen, you’re in the wrong class! Chem in Context is just down the hall! It’s never too late in the year to change your schedules, you know! And Mart! You really should be paying attention! You don’t want to end the year with those grades!

MART
No I don’t. You’re right.

DOMINICK
Of course I am. And if you want that A, you’d better freakin’ listen to me.

FAITH
(quietly)
An A! An A! My kingdom for an A! All hail Lord Dominick!

DOMINICK
What’s that, Faith?

FAITH
What’s the formula for bitartrate?

DOMINICK
You haven’t learned your polyatomic ions yet? Huh. That’ll come back to bite ya! It’s called natural selection. Some of you can handle this course, others can’t!

FAITH
It’s H-C-four-H-four-O-six minus, right?

DOMINICK
That’s what it’s always been. Anything else?

He looks around the room. Everyone is SILENT, though Mart and Jack are still making faces and gestures at each other, Robin is looking furious, and Xavier is mouthing words to himself.

Dominick marches towards the OVERHEAD PROJECTOR and pulls it to the center of the room. He puts an overhead detailing ELECTROCHEMISTRY on and turns the machine on.

DOMINICK
I’m gonna apologize ahead of time for this chapter. I’ve never taught it before, so I’m learning it with you.

Robin shakes her head angrily, and Faith scoffs.

ROBIN
If you don’t know this stuff—

DOMINICK
(interrupting)
I do know this stuff. I just haven’t covered it with a class before.

Faith, who has been rigorously copying the overhead, looks up with a confused expression.

FAITH
Say, what does that mean?

DOMINICK
What?

FAITH
“Electrodes are conductors in a circuit that to or from a substance that is not a metal.”

Dominick STARES at the overhead and mutters the words to himself.

DOMINICK
That last sentence makes no sense; I have no idea what I meant to say. Just ignore it. Like I said, I haven’t taught this in a while.

Xavier, who has not been taking notes, stands up and approaches Dominick with a thoughtful look.

XAVIER
I was thinking…

DOMINICK
Oh boy.

XAVIER
It’s just occurred to me… if you have two really—

DOMINICK
(interrupting)
Xavier, have you taken the notes?

XAVIER
Oh, no, but anyways, as I was saying… oh bother! Where was I? Oh yes! You know those little… whachamacallits… those electrons! Those electrons that—

DOMINICK
(interrupting)
Xavier! You want to screw up your own… I’m not worried about you, but by coming up here and yakking about something that has nothing to do with nothing, you’re hurting the rest of the class!

XAVIER
But I’m just asking a question while they’re copying all that down. I don’t think they need complete silence. They’re not stupid, you know.

ROBIN
(eyes on Dominick)
Thanks, Xavier. At least someone thinks so.

DOMINICK
(on the defensive)
Hey, I don’t think anyone’s stupid either. I think you’re all smart, and you’re all good test takers, otherwise you wouldn’t be in this class.

ROBIN
(on the offensive)
Didn’t you just say that we were in the wrong class?

DOMINICK
(avoiding the question)
Everyone here’s smart, but some just don’t know what they’re doing. Or they get careless and screw up. But everyone’s pretty smart.

FAITH
(sarcastically)
Except me.

DOMINICK
There’re some people who are smarter than others, but there’s no one, I repeat, no one, here who’s stupid.

ROBIN
Couldn’t you turn that around and say there are some people who’re stupider than others?

DOMINICK
Look, I’ve had enough of this conversation. Since we have time for this, I assume you’re all done copying. So I suppose we can go over the stuff now, right? Good!

A few members of the class speed up their copying as Dominick begins DIRECTLY READING the overhead.

The sound fades until only the faint impression of someone speaking loudly remains. Meanwhile, the sound of a sad violin wails in the background.

Zoom in on Dominick and focus on his moving mouth. Fade into a shot of Xavier looking out the window, bored.

3. EXT. PHS—DAY
Fade into a shot from the outside looking in the window at Xavier, then pull out slowly

Fade into an aerial shot of the school, which is a large, isolated brick building with a tall fence around it in the middle of a forest that closely resembles a prison.

COMMENTS:

This test taker displays some extraordinary creative skills. However, this exam was meant to test the student’s ability to compose NON-FICTION pieces. Though stories BASED on true events are acceptable, the idea of a school getting hit by lightning, violent cicada attacks, and a flagrantly bad teacher in charge of an honors chemistry course are obviously too far-fetched to even be exaggerated versions of the truth.

Due to its imaginative quality, it has been submitted to the Fiction department for assessment. The SCHYTE—Fiction Writing is identical in every aspect to the Nonfiction Writing test except that the entries are meant not meant to be true.

The Others

2004-06-24T23:25:00.000-04:00

This film is a must-see for all horror movie/ghost story/Nicole Kidman Fans. Not only is Kidman's performance as a frightened mother living in a seemingly haunted mansion absolutely flawless, but the story is completely brilliant.

The film starts by introducing us to Grace Stewart (Nicole Kidman), a mother of two small, photosensitive children. Because of their condition, she must keep all the windows closed. Her concern about her children borders on paranoia, which becomes apparent when she chastises the three servants she hired to replace the ones who "vanished" one day. Grace is a deeply religious woman who spends a lot of her time educating her children about Christianity and lecturing about the children's Hell.

Soon, we find that something is wrong with the house. Strange things occur, like things being moved without explanation. As we become more and more convinced that the house is haunted, the story suddenly twists, leaving us with an unexpected but satisfying ending.

The Internet is ridiculously slow...

2004-06-24T17:34:00.000-04:00

Even if you have cable. Why must we pay thirty bucks a month to access the internet at a tolerable pace only to have it break down on you every other day?

Perhaps not all people share my woes, but I for one think this whole matter is outrageous. “You get what you pay for,” they say, but in this case, you get less. Thirty dollars a month, give or take ten dollars, is no small sum for anyone. In exchange, you expect reliable service, but instead you get something that randomly quits working for no reason at all.

Forgive me for ranting, but don’t I have a point?

The Stepford Wives

2004-06-24T17:30:00.000-04:00

“The Stepford Wives,” a comedic remake of a feminist horror movie, suffers from genre-crossover-osis. The result of the transformation is a mismatched outfit: ridiculously humorous beginning, a frightening middle, and an end that makes you go “huh?”

The filmmakers were obviously working very hard on making this a quality film. The set was great, as were the visual effects, the sound, lighting, costumes, soundtrack, etc. Its star-studded cast consists of great actors and actresses who do the best they can with the script they were given.

In “The Stepford Wives,” Joanna Eberhart (Nicole Kidman), a tough career girl, is fired after one of her projects ends in tragedy. She and her husband Walter (Matthew Broderick) move out of the city and into the bucolic community of Stepford, where all the houses are large and smart, controlled by compliant robots. The streets are lined with gorgeous American SUVs, as well as gorgeous American wives.

Stepford, in other words, is the spitting image of a white utopia. The only diversity exists in Bobbie (Bette Midler), who is Jewish, and Roger (Roger Bart) and his partner, a gay couple. Joanna, Bobbie, and Roger (the more feminine of the couple) seem out of step with the perfect, blonde, high-heeled Stepford wives. But the Stepford Men’s Association knows that that can easily be mended. Joanna notices her friends morph into scarily perfect model citizens. When she realizes that they’re robots, she confronts her husband.

This point is where the problems begin. All signs point to a simple and obvious conclusion: the Stepford men were replacing their wives (or partners) with robots. However, since this storyline was designed for horror, it had to be twisted. The twist in the end (I won’t spoil it) makes no sense at all and muddles the story completely.

All in all, it was a very entertaining film, to be sure, but not a very good one. If you like comedy and or beautiful blonde women, go see it. Nicole Kidman proves once more that she is the Queen Mother of the cinematic world. But if you are faithful to the original, with its feminist murmurings and satirical tone, then you will most likely detest the way this new “Stepford Wives” throws the underlying progressiveness out the window.

"The Terminal"

2004-06-24T17:28:00.000-04:00

This film is one for the critics. No doubt you’ve already heard about how well Spielberg and Hanks go together on their third joint venture. Hanks’ performance as a hapless tourist trapped in an airport has you laughing and crying at just the right moments, and the supporting cast is flawless. The set is realistic, the soundtrack, by John Williams, is wonderful, and the costumes, lighting, and sound are all great.

“The Terminal” is the story of Viktor Navorski (Tom Hanks), a foreigner at JFK airport who wants nothing more than to go to New York City but is trapped in an airport. Hounded by the airport’s boss, who wants him to try an escape so he can be “someone else’s problem,” and befriended by the motley airport crew, Navorski eventually adapts to life in a terminal. He even finds romance in the lovely attendant Amelia (Catherine Zeta-Jones). Nevertheless, he wants nothing more than to complete his mission in New York City (a secret that Navorski ultimately reveals to Amelia) and return to his war-torn home country.

The film is obviously a comedy, although it does have a few more somber moments, such as the scene where Navorski discovers that his home country’s government was overthrown. It’s also somewhat satirical and mocks the traveler lifestyle.

“Ever feel like you’re just living out of an airport?” one man asks while shaving in the men’s bathroom. The word “airport” could be replaced with a number of things, such as “car” or “office,” and unfortunately for many Americans, the answer is yes. The majority of Americans commute, and hours upon hours are spent on the road or in the air. The result is less quality time… if anyone remembers what that means.

In the end, “The Terminal” does have a happy conclusion. However, for many lovers of romance, it also leaves you feeling somewhat unfulfilled. I remember sitting through the end credits waiting for an alternate ending to show up.

But all in all, “The Terminal” is a rare find: a high-quality comedy. Despite the stuck-in-the-airport feeling you get after the first hour, most non-movie-cynics will certainly end up liking it.