I’m here because I’m selling tickets for Philly Cine Fest (www.phillycinefest.org). For the last few days I’ve been working at the TLA main office in Old City, but now that tickets have gone on sale I’m on site doing in-person sales. At first I thought it funny that TLA was the primary sponsor, because whenever I’ve heard about TLA in one way or another it’s always been to comment on how much porn they distribute. Upon reading about the company, it turns out TLA was originally founded as an experimental theater group and only started renting porn in 1981 with the founding of TLA Entertainment Group. TLA also sponsors QFest, the GLBT international film festival that happens in Philly in late summer. Apparently this TLA company is sort of a big deal here in Philadelphia. Big enough to still operate video rental stores. Even Blockbuster can’t seem to keep its stores afloat.

The customers here have been entering and browsing in a surprisingly steady stream. I thought movie rental stores were dying like Europeans in 1349. And yet, in this video rental oasis, however retro its decor, movie lovers flock to the shelves to carefully examine movie titles, gingerly handle DVD boxes, until they decide that yes, this is how they want to spend their Friday night. Fireside with Zack Galafanakis in Frenemy.

The staff is also surprisingly knowledgeable. Once I went into a Blockbuster near Bard College, my alma mater, to find a copy of Dumbo (Disney movies are notoriously difficult to watch via internet streaming, and I really wanted to watch it that night so I was willing to make the trip and hunt around in local video stores as opposed to ordering it from Netflix). I found the personel at Blockbuster as helpful as the old ladies that work at Home Depot, and left the store grumbling and empty-handed. 30 hours later I received my Dumbo fix in a friendly red envelope.

It’s 5:30pm and the TLA is crowded with people just getting off work, picking up the night’s flick before ordering the night’s pizza. Two Temple girls pace along the New Releases nearby, discussing which movies would be right “for the house”, ie: which ones “the guys would like, too”.
The one curly haired girl says, “Ohh… The Social Network. Do you think the guys would like that?”
I chime in and say, “That’s really good. And that guy Jesse Eisenberg is pretty cute, too. And this one guy plays twins… mmm.”
She laughs, her blonde friend gives me a weird look.
Curly spots The Fighter. “Oh! The Fighter! Mark Wahlberg! They’d definitely like this!” She looks over at me, I nod. Blondie concurrs.
College students still rent movies? In college we streamed movies illegally and projected them onto the wall of the common room with a projector conveniently rented from the film department. I hope their sorority at least has a decent sized screen, and they’re not just using a laptop propped up on an empty Miller Lite 30 pack.

I remember when I went to the Video Video down the street from my house on a daily basis after school. I would stroll along the aisles and look for familiar actors’ faces. Once I spotted Cary Elwes among the recent releases. I had fallen in love with Elwes in Robin Hood Men in Tights and The Princess Bride. I was so excited I took Comic Book Villains home… and was sorely disappointed. But that’s the kind of gamble Itook when renting video rentals as frequently as I did. Especially as a 9th grader with no proper film education. I can’t remember when Google went big, but there must have been a time when I couldn’t Google something as soon as I wanted to find out more about it. This must have been during that time.

The first guy I dated Freshman year of college introduced me to Netflix. Two years before that I had discovered my passion for film, and had convinced my parents that buying me special edition DVD’s with “all the extras” was actually a great idea because it enhanced my film education. When I called home about Netflix, Mama agreed to sponsor my subsription.

Right after I signed up with Netflix I downloaded DC++, a file sharing system all the Bardies were using, and, with the exception of my dumb Dumbo excursion, haven’t tried to rent a movie since. Now there’s free torrent software you can download, and Hulu, and YouTube… so many options available with the click of a button. I sit here in the TLA and wonder, have these people been living under a rock? Are there people out there unfamiliar with the wondrous relationship that movies and the internet share?

And yet… This store has a certain grotesque charm. Where else would you find Saw: The Final Chapter next to Santa Paws? I chuckled as I passed (and peeked) the porn section hidden in plain sight along the hallway to the bathroom. The pop punk music playing from clerk Alan’s iPod. The dirty late 90′s PCs that are never going to be replaced. The customers just have to be patient while the computer takes its time to think.

It will be fun to observe this ancient environment over the next three weeks. But I doubt I will ever return, save for next year’s Cine Fest.

Like most movie musicals, the plot of this “backstager” remains loose, to provide opportunity for song and dance numbers. The songs are catchy, but less exciting than the dances. Fred Astaire is a hundred times a dancer than a singer, and Cyd Charisse doesn’t sing a note the entire movie. I like Astaire movies best when balanced by a supreme vocalist like Bing Crosby in Holiday Inn.

Studio era movies are tip top. The studios had all the money in the world to hire the best of the best artists and technicians to create magic on the silver screen, and were efficient about the filmmaking process. A keen viewer knows that every inch of frame, set, and costume was fully considered and intentional.

The final number in The Band Wagon is a riveting ten-minute sequence entitled “Girl Hunt”. The Hunt is the finale of a longer musical revue performed by the characters in the story, and thus begins with a shot of the conductor cuing the pit, the audience seated behind. Cut to reverse of the curtain, spotlights wave to and fro, sirens wail. The curtain parts to reveal an oversized collage of noir-mystery book covers to set the scene. Suddenly the collage is blasted in two by a line of bullets (a thrilling display of on stage effects) and the flat is pulled apart to reveal a theatrical cityscape.

To see a live revue like this one must have been thrilling. Each number is completely different; the eclectic set list keeps viewers engaged. Imagine sitting in the audience, eagerly awaiting the finale. The curtain parts. You comprehend that the next number will have something to do with noir fiction. Then, BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM! Bullet holes right in your face! Spectacle theater sure is awesome!

Astaire appears stage left, crosses. The camera cuts in for a closer single. Astaire narrates in Voice Over. Up to this point in the feature, the numbers have been clearly theatrical. The camera goes in for close ups and tight group shots, but does not cross the 180 line between the players and the audience. All effects could believably be achieved in live theater. For example, Voice Over is a technique often used in cinema but could be easily produced for the theater using a pre recorded and/or amplified narration, while Astaire on stage plays to the recording.

A solo trumpet is heard. Astaire hears it too. He says, “Somewhere in a furnished room, some guy was practicing on a horn. It was a lonesome sound that crawled on my spine”. In the accompanying shot cinema breaks into the staged world. When Astaire hears the horn, he looks “in its direction” and the camera cuts away to a flat painted as a window with an actor seated behind it, playing trumpet. No such flat exists in the extreme wide. We are given our first clue that this number is for more than the audience in the theater, it will be a delicious picture display for the audience in the cinema as well.

Shooting stage productions can be challenging for those unfamiliar with theater. Most actors have felt the pain of utter disappointment when they watch the video of whatever production they rehearsed weeks to perform, and realize that for some reason the camera operator found the top right of the stage more appealing than wherever the action was actually taking place. Actors: next time you hire your kid cousin to tape a production, show him “Girl Hunt” and tell him to keep in mind the following:

Theater is about the body, and dancing is especially about the feet. Most shots in “Girl Hunt” are full body shots—not wide shots, which would include the entire stage—FBS’s include subjects from their toes to their head, which is what dance is all about- engaging the entire body. All movements must be seen. Only cut in closer if there is a small move, like when Fred Astaire takes a cigarette out of his mouth and puts it in the blonde’s. The camera zooms out to a FBS when Fred and the blonde continue dancing in full form.

The same type of shot choice theory applies to shooting stage as shooting for cinema. The camera should be placed in such a way that best supports the action within the frame. The infamous recording of the musical Cats is a superb example of theatrical video. Every shot in Cats clearly shows the action and enhances the action. If you are shooting a production and are limited to one camera, it is imperative to watch the production once or better yet, a few times before recording so you may anticipate entrances and action impulsively. There is nothing more distracting when watching recorded theater when a camera whips around or zooms too quickly because the camera operator clearly missed a cue. In theater, the camera is merely a means to mass distribution.

The Band Wagon is not a recording of a theatrical production. It is a “backstager”, a unique cinematic genre that uses the culture of theater as a basis for film. While the quick insert of the trumpet player could perhaps be interpreted as a close up of an event happening upstage (even though upon close inspection of the extreme wide shot no flat matches the one in the cutaway), a later camera move is unique only to film and could never be produced on stage. Astaire is beat up by some noir goons in black suits and fedoras, and as he falls to the ground, the picture spins round and round, fades to Astaire waking from unconsciousness, then fades again to a new scene in an entirely different set. Fades may be suggested on stage with a clever scrim move or fog, but can never be replicated as per film.

Fade to a new set: a storefront in theatrical style. There is no set change, only an edit. The number has been given over completely to the audience in the cinema. We are fully engaged to the short film within a film. We are self-involved and have forgotten about the fictional theater audience in the world of the film, whose applause and presence seemed so imperative just a few shots ago.

Astaire goes through a doorway, and in a cut, enters another set, a dress shop where old women in minks evaluate couture dresses on beautiful young models. Aside from Astaire’s sparse narration, there is no dialogue. The players travel through each environment, allowing the color and texture of the scene set the tone and their movements to tell the story.

Cyd Charisse enters again in a black sequined gown, this time as the owner of the dress shop. She slips through a narrow entryway lined with mirrors. At first we can’t tell which entrance is the real one. Her arrival through a hall of mirrors is enough for us to know she is a mysterious woman.

Next is an absurd, almost comedic sequence; Charisse leads Astaire into the dressmaker’s workshop, filled with mannequin parts and dress patterns, draped and unfinished. All their movements are danced. Charisse’s body is mind bogglingly engaged from toe to finger tip.

Astaire is attacked again, and a chase begins between him and who he assumes to be the killer, “Mr. Big”.

The following sequence is one of my favorites. A subway station is represented once again in sparse theatrical style; the set is a puzzle of perspective paintings. Suited noir goons enter flailing smoking cap guns at each other. The sounds of the guns and the sounds of their feet on the aluminum floor produce a tap-like effect. Their acrobatic ballet is violent (no one who enters leaves the set alive) and overdramatic (every time a man is shot he holds his wound in his hand and makes a big scene before falling to the ground), yet Astaire hardly notices the goons after he runs into the blonde again. Their duet is tender and sexual. They dance downstage, their turns and dips highlighted by lighting effects of passing subway trains. The blonde is scared off again when a bullet nearly hits Astaire, and the detective is on the trail again.

The next two shots are quick, yet well designed. First, Astaire looks through a shop window. The set is very dry, just the window and a bright orange door against a whitewashed background. And then, above, painted in just the right spot, a cut out of the Empire State Building, and below, a two dimensional bright red fire hydrant. The shot is quick- that’s all we need to see to know he is on a street corner in the city. He dashes around the corner, and cut to a very low shot of Astaire running up a freestanding fire escape. We understand it is a fire escape, even without the structure being attached to a building. The sparse set engages the imagination of the cinematic audience, who for so long has been given everything within the frame- every inch of the silver screen accounted for. In this sequence, our imaginations must work like any audience in stage theater. A square frame becomes a window; a floating piece of the Empire State Building represents a vast skyline.

The conclusive scene takes place in a bar called Dem Bones Cafe. Astaire stands outside the entrance, and a customer rounds the corner in a wicked dance style- low to the floor, dragging his knees, he throws his arms bizarrely in the air. Sounds of women mid-coitus lead us to believe this bar is a place for sinners.

The customer enters the bar and is paired with a dame doing the same movements. Another customer enters in a different way, he is paired with another dame doing it his way. Finally, Astaire enters, posing as a goofy-dancing man, hat tipped low over his eyes. He is immediately reprehended by the bar bouncer and a fight begins, but immediately attentions are altered by Charisse at the bar. She slips out of an edgy dark green trench coat to reveal a skintight red sequined dress. She and Astaire begin a high-energy number that blows his duet with the blonde out of the water. Charisse’s endless legs are completely exposed through the high slits in her flapper style gown, Astaire is the leading man but Charisse grabs our attention the whole way through. At one point she and Astaire turn in close together, he grabs her leg outstretched to reveal a perfectly straight stocking seam. The camera occassionally asserts itself to support the action within its frame: Charrise spins the belt of her dress, Astaire is knocked down, cut to a high angle with Astaire on the ground and Charisse over him, thrusting her hips from side to side. The final steps are the most thrilling. Astaire walks backwards, low to the ground, knees dragging. Charisse walks towards him like a rattlesnake, arms way up over her head, feet planting closer and closer with each solid step. It’s sexy. It’s powerful. And the two don’t seem to break a bead of sweat.

Their dance is interrupted when Mr. Big runs past. After some struggle, done in dance, Astaire catches Mr. Big who turns out to be… the blonde, of course. She is shot and killed, and we fade back to the opening scene, a quiet city street. Astaire enters as before, the camera cuts into a close single, and, as before, Astaire places a cigarette between his lips. A velvet-gloved hand with a lit match meets the end of his cigarette. He and Charisse, in that hot red dress, slink off into the foggy night.

Dance has been considered sinful, and I wouldn’t deny it. Watching a dance of this caliber makes your pulse rise. A short film like “Girl Hunt” can be an aphrodisiac more powerful than chocolate, oysters, or satin sheets. Pornography has mass appeal because it plays to fantasy, and dance, especially on-screen dance, appeals in the same way. The fantasy of “Girl Hunt” is present in every detail throughout the short film, from the stylized dancing to the surreal sets. Death and violence in the subway scene are interpreted gracefully, albeit absurdly through cartoon-like acrobatic movements. In the dressmaker’s workshop, Astaire puts his hand on Charisse’s arm and she breaks away—he realizes it is a dislocated mannequin’s arm! The event is somewhat grotesque, yet we cannot take our eyes away from Charisse, although she leads us deeper into the cave of scattered body parts. The climax of the story takes place in a noir style harlequins’ bar, where goofy men are paired and sent off with women to do what they want them to do. Charisse’s costumes tease our imagination. As the dress shop owner, she wears a skin-tight dress with high slits and particularly placed tassels. When she is the girl-next-door blonde, her seemingly modest light blue dress is completely see-through, her legs extending up, up, disappearing amongst the mesh. Theatrical elements hide the erotic nature of the action. The bland, family-friendly story of the feature cushions its exotic finale. “Hayride” was a number for Mother. “Girl Hunt” appeals to Daddio.

Today, short films in this style are rare. There are thousands of film festivals across the nation, yet how many musical movies have you seen entered by aspiring filmmakers? Only the unique contemporary artist attempts a short dance film. Michael Jackson’s Thriller is infamous, and Smooth Criminal is ingenious. I recently watched Prince’s music videos “Partyman” and “Batdance” that he made for Tim Burton’s Batman in 1989. Both videos are exhilarating, although “Batdance” is truly superb. Lady Gaga’s music videos are arguably cinematic, although as a dancer she is hardly on par with Astaire, Jackson, or even Britney Spears. Recent feature movie musicals such as Across the Universe and Moulin Rouge are more about the music and imagery than dancing, although Taymor’s direction of “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” is fantastic and includes many dance elements. Sometimes dancing is exhibited in features of the “dance movie” genre, like Save the Last Dance or Step Up, but I’d say the contestants on America’s Best Dance Crew have more moves than Julia Styles ever will. If MTV can make a mint broadcasting numbers from amateur dance groups, it’s about time Hollywood re-embraces dance in feature films.

However, I never wanted to be a super hero. Movie star, yes. Empress, yes. Singer in a rock band, of course. But I can’t remember doodling myself in a fancy getup and scribbling cool hero names in bubble letters.

I hope that doesn’t mean I’m not good-natured. I just don’t think I’d be able to save anybody. I’m not the violent type- and super heroes need to kick ass!

Kick Ass poses the question: can the average Joe become super Joe without super powers?

Protagonist Dave Lizewski doesn’t have any super powers, but he buys a wet suit, calls himself Kick Ass and goes searching to be a hero. The first time on the job he attempts to stop some muggers from breaking into a car. He gives one good shot to the criminal’s head with his numchuck before getting knifed squarely in the gut.

You’re sitting in the audience and you think, “Wait a minute. Did the hero just get his ass handed to him!?” and then you think, “D’uh. I’d get my ass handed to me, too”.

Then we meet Hit Girl. A ten year old trained since toddlerhood in martial arts, weaponry, and kick ass history. A believable scenario- you’ve seen those prepubescent gymnasts on TV- now imagine them working katanas. She’s the Mozart of comic book fighters. And Mozart was the real deal.

Right before Kick Ass would be butchered by a group of drug dealers, Hit Girl arrives and slaughters each and every one of them. How did Hit Girl know where to find Kick Ass? She traced his IP address via his MySpace account. Brilliance. Kick Ass is truly a comic book story of our time. Compared to the constant flow of information present in this story, even Batman’s supercomputer seems prehistoric. Geez, he doesn’t even have flat screens.

Superman gets a lot of his tips by working at the Daily Planet. Spiderman gets VIP passes to scientific events because he works at the Daily Bugle. Batman can keep tabs on the big cheeses in Gotham because he owns half the city. Kick Ass has no job and no money, and thus relies on the tools already at his fingertips, that is, the Internet. Kick Ass is globalized via YouTube, followed by TV news, and finally the newspaper picks up on the story. Towards the end of the movie, when the villain has our heroes captured, he streams a video online of their torture. The TV news must cut the signal when the video gets too violent, but at once everyone rushes to a nearby laptop to watch the rest of the live stream. Superman’s supersonic hearing proves antique when everyone’s texting each other.

The villain is a drug lord named Frank D’Amico with a penthouse in New York City, a beautiful wife, and teenage son named Chris. A realistic character set up if you’ve ever heard of Pablo Escobar or George Jung. Compared to some characters we hear about in our daily news, this is a tame scenario.

D’Amico as a villain is somewhat like Batman as a hero. They’re filthy rich and own half the city. To snare Kick Ass, Chris dresses as a rival super hero and calls himself the Red Mist. Unlike Kick Ass, who searched for the right wet suit on EBay to use as a costume, Daddy D’Amico orders a custom costume and a sleek red and black car to match. If you’ve ever seen Super Sweet 16 or Pimp My Ride, you know that with enough money, any loving parent can buy their teenager the car of their dreams, complete with mist pumps on the outside, neon red light on the inside, and of course, an Ipod jack.

Even Hit Girl and her father Big Daddy are fully armed because they have money at their disposal, although the duo is more frugal about their spending than the D’Amico’s. Big Daddy wears a modified Batman costume and probably the most expensive item in Hit Girl’s wardrobe is her spankin’ purple wig. While Red Mist funds his style, HG and BD spend mad bank to buy mad gear. Most notably, a jet pack. A jet pack with gattling guns.

Kick Ass uses this jet pack to save Hit Girl, and then kills D’Amico with an equally expensive bazooka.

After D’Amico is killed, Dave considers himself a hero. He saved Hit Girl at the last minute and helped her avenge her father’s death. He goes back to high school, Hit Girl, a.k.a. Mindy, joins him at public school, and their lives seem normalized. If Kick Ass had never met Hit Girl, would he have been killed? Definitely.

Chris survives as the new drug lord. He picks up his father’s gun and says, “Wait ‘til they get a load of me”. In the wake of all this violence is the promise of more violence. And the violence in this story was the wake of violence that happened before it. The next generation has learned from their parents: kick ass and you’ll be a hero.

None of the characters in this story had powers like super strength or lazer eyes, but they did have the powers of the modern age. The tools that make both individuals and nations powerful: money and weaponry and a knack for violence.

How to Train Your Dragon immediately appeals to many because it’s about dragons. And dragons are really cool. I was always disappointed when dragons were discussed in Harry Potter with little Potter-Dragon interaction included in the series.

Dragon is also about Vikings. And Vikings are really cool. My thesis movie was based on Norse mythology, and ever since writing that movie I’m on the lookout for good movies about Vikings. The Vikings (1958) starring Kirk Douglass is brilliant and one of the most historically accurate features about Vikings to date (see link under YouTube is Glorious). “Viking” elicits battle, adventure, and brawniness- and people like movies like that.

Although Dragon is a fantasy movie, the art direction is surprisingly accurate to historic Viking culture. The houses, wardrobe, ships and weaponry, although stylized, are all of the Viking era. Gerard Butler’s Scottish accent is for real. And, like any diverse ecosystem in our world, there are many types of dragon in this movie universe, each acutely designed by the Dreamworks team. My favorite was a two-headed dragon. One head blew flammable steam while the other made a spark, igniting a huge fireball. Clever character design.

Each Viking in this village learns from an early age that dragons are dangerous, and should be killed when given the opportunity. The young kinsmen are expected to be brave hunters, unafraid to face even the deadliest dragon.

Protagonist Hiccup, voiced by none other than Jay Baruchel from She’s Out of My League, is the adolescent son of a Viking warrior who, unlike his dragon-slaying kinsmen, can barely lift an axe (the two Baruchel characters are like reincarnations of each other, ages apart). Hiccup wants to be accepted by his community, but every aspect of him clashes with tradition. His life is changed when, like Aesop’s Androcles, Hiccup finds an injured dragon and nurses him back to health. In turn, the dragon becomes friendly and faithful to Hiccup.

Hiccup’s dragon is brilliantly designed. Hiccup befriends the most feared of all the dragons, the dragon whose fireball is like an atom bomb that never misses its mark and the dragon that can fly so fast it is gone in the blink of an eye (Of course. Our protagonist would not be so heroic if he befriended a less lethal creature. Androcles pulling a thorn out of a pig would be a tepid situation). But beyond Hiccup’s dragon being a weapon of choice, its all the little things about it that make it an exceptional character. Hiccup names his dragon Toothless because the beast has retractable teeth (have you ever seen retractable teeth before? That’s a new one for me). Toothless eats fish, has ears and eyes and a long tail like a cat, but is playful, loyal, and obedient like a dog. Toothless injures himself when he loses a tail fin which prevents him from flying, just like if a fish or a shark lost a tail fin, they could not swim properly. Hiccup builds Toothless a prosthetic fin that he controls when he rides on Toothless’s back, similar to bicycle gears. Hiccup isn’t just training a dragon, he’s helping the beast to fly.

As the friendship between man and beast strengthens, Hiccup learns that dragons are not bloodthirsty, but rather docile and curious. Just because they can blow up an entire village does not mean they will… unless prompted.

*SPOILER ALERT*

Hiccup discovers the reason dragons have attacked his village for generations is because there is a monstrous dragon, the master of all dragons, living in a nearby volcano, that orders all the other dragons to feed him, else he eat them with one chomp of his mighty jaws! Hiccup’s father goes after the dragon’s lair and releases the beast within, not realizing just how terrifying the master beast really is!

When the monster dragon breaks forth from the volcano, the entire audience gasped. This dragon is brilliantly designed. It is a Tyrannosaurus Rex mixed with a Brontosaurus with eight rows of tiger teeth, humongous wings, and breathes flames as hot as sun flares. The battle sequence versus this giant is truly epic.

Hiccup and Toothless go up against this horrifying creature, using quick movement and clever tricks to ultimately destroy him. The master dragon is slain, the other dragons are rid of his tyranny, and the village is safe. The Vikings learn to respect and love the dragons, and the dragons have no more need to ransack the community.

Overall, the movie plays on a cliche: the pariah- nerd becomes a respected hero by going against the norm and doing something crazy that actually works out pretty well. Hiccup is similar to many computer animated protagonists: Flik the ant from Pixar’s A Bug’s Life, amateur inventor Flint Lockwood from Sony Animation’s Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs, Remy the Rat from Disney/Pixar’s Ratatouille… without the dragons, How to Train Your Dragon would have been just another kids movie. Luckily for us, the dragons are badass and the animation is Dreamworks’ best

Currently I’m dating a guy unlike any I’ve dated before. He’s an Italian ex-frat boy with burly biceps and broad shoulders. He prefers an active lifestyle, he doesn’t like to “sit still and read”. He’s training to become a cop. He considers himself a film buff; comedies are his favorite. So last weekend when I suggested we go see a movie, I wasn’t surprised he thought of either She’s Out Of My League or Hot Tub Time Machine.

She’s Out of My League stars Jay Baruchel as Kirk, a gangly airport security agent who meets the gorgeous and successful Molly (Alice Eve) and realizes she’s actually into him! Kirk loves Molly and Molly loves Kirk, but he can’t get over constantly comparing his shortcomings to her successes. In the end, Kirk’s friends help him see that he’s a great guy, and just because Molly is super hot doesn’t mean she’s out of his league.

Usually I date the Kirk: scrawny dysfunctional men with talent and ambition but no direction or plans for their future. Like Molly, I see safety in their quiet lack of confidence. I know they will call. They will never cheat on me. They will treat me like a queen.

Lately, however, I’ve gotten sick of the Kirk for all the reasons I liked him in the first place. He does nothing with his talents, he’s too quiet, I have to keep encouraging him, and he calls constantly! I now crave confident, slightly narcissistic men with dashing good looks who are driving into their future at full force with a solid head on their shoulders. They may not have time to call because they’re busy, and that’s fine with me, I’m busy too! I’m not exactly a perfect 10 like Molly. I’m not a size 2 making six figures at age 25 with a rich nuclear family cheering me on from the wings. But I’m pretty and smart and I’m striding towards my goals, and this past year I’ve been thinking I could do better than the Kirk.

As the lights went down, the cop in training took my hand, his thick arm resting across my lap. His hand was surprisingly soft, and I wrapped my other hand around his bicep. It was a strange sensation. Usually I get excited because a man paints a beautiful picture, or sings a beautiful note, or acts with such beautiful feeling. But when I wrapped my hand around this man’s beautiful bicep, a charge surged through my body.

The movie was just alright, yet I was in such high spirits that I laughed out loud throughout. The movie was fun to watch. I wondered what my date thought of me. Was I laughing too much? Too loudly? He would take his hand away periodically to reach for popcorn or sip his drink, but it would always return reassuringly.

Molly’s ex boyfriend, Cal, is a ruggedly handsome pilot who cheated on her. As I watched the movie, I wondered if the cop was anything like Cal. I wondered if I was his Kirk. Maybe he is tired of dating airheaded women who care more about the brand of shoe they’re wearing than where they’re going. Maybe he’s ready for a change, too.

Romantic comedies shed an odd light on our lives. While the credits roll, we reflect on the characters and situations in the movie and wonder, would we act that way if we were in that situation? As my date and I exited the theater, I wondered, should I go back to the Kirk?

I’m Assistant Directing a new feature to begin shooting in late March:

www.hexethemovie.com

Check out the blog that I and the production team write in pertaining to the movie:

http://hexethemovie.com/blog/

The story goes like this: After achieving huge success with Aliens and Terminator, and global sensationalism with Titanic, director James Cameron was signed on to make Avatar. It was the early 1990’s, and the forward thinking filmmaker decided the technology was not sophisticated enough to realize his vision. Instead of waiting around for others to invent for him, Cameron dove right in to extreme film production and involved himself in technological advancement. During a twelve-year hiatus from feature films, Cameron switched gears from narrative to documentary production, established a visual effects company called Digital Domain, and developed a new line of 3-D cameras. All the while, that one project was swimming around in his brain. After almost a decade of prologue and three years of production, Avatar reached IMAX screens.

I didn’t see it in IMAX. But I did see it in 3-D. The theater wasn’t playing the movie in 2-D. So, once again, I paid the extra four dollars for the 3-D ticket, got my pair of recycled glasses, and situated myself center in the stadium-seated theater.

The movie was a seamless mix of rendering and tracking effects, computer-generated fill, and live action footage, which would have been enough to make it an awesome movie, but adding the third dimension enhanced the experience to blockbuster status.

Right before cinema became mainstream, the peak of entertainment was theater of the spectacle. Special effects were included in performances wherever possible, from fireworks to smoke, live animals to fountains, swings and surround sound (keep in mind this is the turn of the 20th century). The idea was that if performance was saturated with life, it seems more real. However, the theater is inherently an artificial space. Although the stage holds the reality of three dimensions, spectators are rooted in their seats and therefore distanced from the action.

At first, cinema was treated like theater, which flattened its aesthetic (more than the obvious). The camera was placed to frame a single, wide angle and rarely moved. Then D.W. Griffith introduced the close-up, and opened the gateway for directors to place the camera within the set, to give viewers a more rounded experience. The movement of the camera created a false sense of space. Today, cinema is finally gaining momentum to claim the third dimension.

The 3-D effects in Up! and Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs hardly enhance the experience because the movies are animated (see “Sony Animation vs. Pixar: Cloudy With A Chance of Ratatouille” September 24, 2009). Just as distance in theater causes artificiality, the cartoonish styles of animated movies impede their realness, even when coupled with third dimensional technology. Avatar, on the other hand, uses reality as a basis for its computer generated effects and adds the third dimension on top of it, making it the closest realistic cinematic experience to date.

James Cameron made sure to avoid shooting Avatar like George Lucas shot Star Wars Episodes I, II, and III. Unlike Lucas, who left his cast to wave their lightsaber props wistfully around an empty green set, Cameron built sets for his actors, and used rendering and tracking effects a la The Curious Case of Benjamin Button to maintain honest proximity to their expression. The high quality computer generation and impeccable art design made the Avatar characters and the environment of the alien planet unquestionably realistic. It was as if I was at the Liberty Science Museum watching an IMAX documentary instead of a narrative film.

No doubt Cameron held on to his idea for more than a decade because he knew it was a great story. A great story deserves to be executed in only the best possible way, and Cameron was determined to see it happen.

A government-funded energy mission from earth has landed on Pandora, a distant planet rich with minerals. The military oversees the project, with scientists working underneath them to gather information about the Na’avi, the native humanoid species. The military is power hungry, while the Na’avi are gentle and in touch with their natural surroundings. Jake Sully, a former soldier, is sent to Pandora to take the place of his murdered twin brother in an experiment. Through futuristic technology, Jake is able to embody a Na’avi avatar made from his (his brother’s) genetic makeup. On a routine venture, Jake is separated from the group of scientists and attacked by some Pandoran animal life. He is saved by Neytiri, a female Na’avi who recognizes him as a prophet. The plot thickens as Jake learns and falls in love with the Na’avi ways of life, and starts to question his loyalties.

Avatar’s themes are timeless: colonization, quest for power, man vs. nature. History as well as literature has played and replayed these types of stories many times. What’s great about Avatar is that its audiences can connect with those themes based on contemporary circumstances. The U.S. war in Afghanistan contains themes of colonization, and the global quest for power is slicked with oil. Global warming is a constant battle between man and nature. What’s more, if you don’t believe avatar technology is in our future, I suggest you read Wired for War by P.W. Singer (He appeared on The Daily Show January 2009 I think, and there’s a fantastic interview with him with Teri Gross on npr.org). Science fiction has a way of relating to current affairs whilst also looking towards the future.

Bottom line, Avatar is interesting, wholly enjoyable, gorgeous, and innovated. When I told my sister she had to go see it, She looked at me sideways and said, “Is that about the blue people?” She’s never been interested much by Sci Fi. I keep telling her she doesn’t realize what she’s missing.

First things first. I quit my job at the coffee shop, got a new job at a diner closer to home. Realized I was making more money with better hours at the diner, quit my other job at Charlie Browns.

December 3, 2009: Started rehearsals at Manasquan High School for a one-act show entitled A Night of Shakespearean Horror. I composed the script out of the bloodiest and most ghoulish scenes I could remember from Macbeth, Hamlet, and of course Titus Andronicus, plus excerpts from A Midsummer Night’s Dream and the death scene in Romeo and Juliet. Totally forgot about Julius Caesar. Oh well. The beauty of theater is that you can do it again. The beauty of Shakespeare is that it’s free to do again and again and again.

January 9-10, 2010, Brooklyn, NY: Directed a comedic rap music video entitled Troubadour, Wenches starring Soce, the Elemental Wizard and produced by smallGRAND productions. I’d never done a music video before. The shoot went well, although I learned numerous lessons when I started editing last week. I continue to edit, a few hours at a time. Trying not to lose stamina. When a project isn’t completely yours, you feel more obligated to a quick turnaround. I try to justify my deceleration on The Theft of Idunn’s Apples by my prior year and a half of daily work. Somehow it doesn’t help the shitty, pitty feeling.

Saw some movies (in no particular order):
Avatar
It’s Complicated
The Fantastic Mr. Fox
Up in the Air
Sherlock Holmes
The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
Howard the Duck

Stay tuned for reviews.

January 30, 2010: One and only performance of A Night of Shakespearian Horror. The MHS students did a great job. Everyone was impressed. I don’t know if it was because my direction was good or because it’s always a miracle when high school students thoroughly memorize Shakespeare. The entire cast helped make the sets, gather costumes, and apply makeup- the show definitely looked sharp. I treated the students as I would any other acting team, despite commentary along the way about “not to expect too much from a bunch of high school kids”. The height of my expectation comes from the height of the bar. I always set a high bar for myself. Why should a show’s director have high expectations for themselves but not for their actors? Is, or should, a teacher-student relationship much different from a director-actor relationship?

February 5, 2010: launched www.epicmovieproductions.com. More on that as it unfolds.

McGreggor plays Bob Wilton, a midwestern American journalist compelled to travel to Iraq and write a life-changing story after his wife leaves him for his editor. In Iran while waiting to cross the boarder, he meets Lyn Cassady (Clooney), a man Wilton discovers is a former member of the First Earth Battalion, a group of psychic spies trained secretly by the government.

Cassady is the most powerful government trained psychic spy, who once killed a goat just by staring at it. Turns out, Cassady is wrecked with grief about killing an innocent animal and is crossing into Iran seeking redemption by freeing a group of goats being held in captivity by the government for psychic testing. Wilton joins Cassady to complete his mission in the hopes of finding a story.

Now, I had no idea what the hell this movie was about when I went to go see it. I only knew I’m always up for McGreggor and Clooney for two hours. I asked my date if he knew. “It’s about goats,” he replied, “some guy can kill ‘em with his mind”. I had heard it received mixed reviews.

Using goats as mind murder test subjects was a real experiment used by the paranormal military program. It is used as an example in The Men Who Stare At Goats by Ron Johnson, a book that examines connections between paranormal military programs and psychological techniques being used for interrogation in the War on Terror (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Men_Who_Stare_at_Goats).

So what happened here was a writer read this book and decided to turn one tiny example into a feature film. Remember in English class when you were told to write an original short story based on a recent news article? It’s a really good exercise. What I like about this scenario is that the writer chose to evolve complete fiction from a single fleeting fact, instead of writing a movie based wholly on facts.

I love bio pics and movies inspired by true events. JFK, Blow, Good Morning Vietnam, Selena, Catch Me If You Can, and The Way We Were are all great movies based on history. But as we learned from Citizen Kane in Film 101, the way people are perceived from memory is rarely who they truly were. Sometimes a true story feature can become hard to follow or feel rushed because there are so many facts that piece the puzzle together. A two-hour movie cannot possibly show the full picture. Bad acting, direction, or writing could also muddle a movie’s depiction of events. Changeling starring Angelina Jolie is an example of this type of bad true-life movie (If you enjoy watching Jolie sob uncontrollably and look helpless for almost three hours while maintaining zero to little sympathy for her character, Changeling is for you). What’s fun about The Men Who Stare At Goats is that it was based on only one fact, with a ton of fictional characters and obstacles created around it.

It’s a fun movie, definitely unique. I prefer when McGreggor uses his native accent rather than Americanizing his speech, but George Clooney was most energetic and fit for a man pushing fifty. I’d recommend seeing The Men Who Stare At Goats over The Twilight Saga: New Moon or Old Dogs, but I’d sooner recommend Fantastic Mr. Fox or Ninja Assassin over Goats if you were looking to attend the cinema this week.

I was waiting for a boy to call me. God, I hate waiting for boys to call me. I want a when, where, and ok I’ll be there see you then. Unfortunately, I find him devilishly attractive so I put up with it.

To lift my spirits, I decided to peruse Netflix and find something to watch. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, Eddie Izzard popped into my head. I ended up watching four Izzard specials: Definite Article, Glorious, Dressed To Kill, and Circle. (If you’re doing the math you’ll figure out that watching all of those specials adds up to around ten hours of comedy. I wasn’t waiting around for this guy for ten hours. I watched the rest over the next few days, and over again throughout the next week.)

Now, I haven’t seen a ton of stand up comedy… Immediately Richard Pryor, Dane Cook, George Carlin, and Jeff Foxworthy come to mind from specials on TV. Premium Blend on Comedy Central never has me in stitches. I saw Dustin Diamond at a comedy club in Michigan when I was 15 (funny, but really raunchy. Screech fell right into the gutter)… so maybe there’s an even truer genius beyond Eddie Izzard, but for now all I know is that Izzard is a good thing that I will never have too much of.

Eddie Izzard is super intelligent, educated, informed. Unless he’s just watched a ton of historical documentaries, which he admits he has. A lot of his comedy involves episodes throughout history, from creation to the dinosaurs to the Renaissance to World War Two to the Clinton era. He references people and places from all over the world, and many times while performing he switches between the many languages he knows fluently (English, French, German, and some Latin). I don’t know French, German, or Latin, but it is never a problem because Izzard is also a master of physicality. He mimes, impersonates, makes sound effects, and sings. Izzard acts out entire scenes and it’s as if you’re watching a movie. He will stand on one side facing one way and act out, say, Darth Vader on a lunch line, covering his microphone with his hand to make the voice: “I’ll have the penne al la arrabiata”. Then he will step to the other side, face the other way, and act out the food handler: “You’ll need a tray”. And hilarity ensues. (See link under ‘YouTube is glorious’)

What’s wonderful about Eddie Izzard is that you never know what he’s going to bring up next, and it seems as if he can go on forever. His comedy is straight from the heart, brain, gut, and on the fly. He may stop in the middle of a bit to comment on a random thought that will lead down a hilarious dead end, and then jump back and continue the original bit. If a joke fails, he comments about it and laughs it off with the audience. Characters from earlier bits can pop up suddenly in later bits. Izzard has us in the Trojan horse with a group of eager Greeks, and suddenly, Prince Phillip of England is there. Izzard may also reuse favorite impressions. The story of Noah’s Arc stars Sean Connery as Noah. God is usually played by James Mason. God: “Noah, stop what you’re doing and build me an arc” Noah: “Yeah I’m working on a speedboat at the moment. I think it’s much more exciting, bigger engine in a speed boat, and it can shoot across the water like that…” Noah explains that a speedboat would be better suited for bible pictures… “We can get all the animals with long ears to sit along the side, It’ll look fuckin’ excellent”.

The end of Izzard’s shows are always abrupt. There’s not a sound in the world I agree with more than the “Awwwwwww” of disappointment from the audience at the end of Glorious (before the encore of course). You don’t want Izzard to stop, and he knows it, but he must. Can you imagine how much energy it takes to act out hundreds of characters and make hundreds of noises nonstop for nearly two hours—in high heels!? Izzard must stop at some point, so he simply ends his set and politely excuses himself from the stage. Usually there is some special effect grand finale with music and lighting to dramatize his entrance and exit. To open Definite Article, Izzard appears from the pages of an enormous book, sitting in an oversized chair positioned atop a gigantic pile of books (a profound metaphorical image). At the end of Circle, Izzard makes his bows, puts on an intense face, and stealthily disappears among the forest-like set pieces.

A well-designed set is deeply satisfying. One of my favorite sets was for a Lewis Black show on Comedy Central that was just a stack of big block letters that said, “THE END”. Most appropriate for Mr. Black. Stereotypically a comedian is in front of a brick wall with a stool and a mic on a stand. But once a comedian hits the big time and gets a television special, a set designer may be brought in to build a million dollar set complete with custom murals and lighting effects. Every angle must be aesthetically pleasing for the viewers at home- and that means texture, color, depth! Have you noticed that in the last few decades sets have become most important for television shows that otherwise do not need sets? Eddie Izzard would still be hilarious if he were in front of a white wall. The news would be just as noteworthy and biased if the anchors were sitting in front of a green chalkboard. But then, millions of brilliant set designers would be out of a job.

If you’re looking for a way to relax, soak in a sweet smelling bubble bath and smoke a personal joint while listening to Eddie Izzard. It’s a fantastic experience. Although I viewed Izzard on screen for the majority of my experiences, listening to him solo audio from a warm bubble bath is just as pleasant and hilarious- perhaps even more so. Although Izzard is thrilling to watch, give your imagination some playtime and just listen to him for a while. You’ll find that you can imagine the scenarios and get the joke just as well by picturing the scene in your good ol’ fashioned mind’s eye. There’s a reason comedy sets are available on iTunes.

Should I comment about the fact that Eddie Izzard is a transvestite? It doesn’t even matter. If anything, the makeup he wears enhances his facial physicality, especially in Dress to Kill because that director really loves extreme close ups. Vaudevillian actors and early silent film actors wore heavy makeup to enhance their facial expressions, and the trick still works. In Dress to Kill, Izzard’s light blue eye shadow and red red lipstick compliments his bright blue eyes and wide set mouth, especially when he smiles goofily after calling Hitler a “mass murdering fuckhead”. I’ve watched a few clips of more contemporary Izzard, and maybe it’s just because I’m used to his fantastic highlights and shiny black heeled boots, but he looks too normal now. He kind of looks like a tool. But maybe it’s just the goatee. I’m not a huge fan of facial hair. Sideburns I can cope with. I’d sleep with Eddie Izzard.

What do I conclude about Eddie Izzard? I felt so compelled to write about him, about his genius, about his hilarity… mostly because I want everyone to know about him too and gain happiness from his comedy. I wish this piece was a bit more profound. Honestly, I watched him again for the first time almost three weeks ago and I’ve been watching him nonstop ever since, trying to form some profound thesis… about the brilliance of mime, about comedy when it is a purely aural experience, about education being imperative to comedy… has it all been written about? I have faith that if I keep thinking, at some point the inspiration fairy will knock me over the head.

Mostly I wanted to write this to clear my writing palate before I went to see Men Who Stare at Goats tonight.

Look at the Izzard links. Let yourself fall in love.