Can't believe I haven't told you about the Family Compound yet! It's apropos now, since we had our first Thanksgiving there yesterday. Here's the deal: the vast majority of my immediate family has moved into a condo complex together in the thriving pseudo-metropolis of Campbell, California, home of, among other things great and small, the Pruneyard Shopping Center.
It's not like a kibbutz or like Jonestown; it's actually five discrete condos in an upscaley complex, initial purchase made possible by some shifting around of real estate and assets by my sister C. & brother-in-law Sid. The population of the compound includes both my sisters, my brother-in-law, my nephew Joey and his wife D., my niece Halina and her husband M., and my niece Ursula and nephew Zach. And five cats. The family thus far makes up approximately 25% of the sold units in the building, which means my brood will utterly dominate the HoA. The family-bearing units in the Compound are distributed thusly:
Unit 1 - C. & Sid's place: three-bedrooms, and the likely hub of many future family gatherings.
Unit 2 - My sister J.'s place: two bedrooms, one filled floor-to-ceiling with skeins of yarn (I should know; I helped her unpack it). Locus of crocheting and creative fiction writing frenzies to come. Also home to two kitties.
Unit 3 - My niece Halina & hubby M.'s place: three bedrooms, a laundry room, and likely site of much newlywed bliss. One cat.
Unit 4 - My niece Ursula & nephew Zach's place: two bedrooms, a sweet loft, and likely home of many poker games and Buffy re-viewings. Urse and Zach are cousins, and had been sharing a place together before the Compound was hatched up. Zach has a new kitty named after a maneuver in a popular video game.
Unit 5 - My nephew Joey & wife D.'s place: two bedrooms, an enormous veranda, and likely scene of many future Rock Band games. Hopefully also a hot tub, when the family rules the HoA and does away with the hot tub ban. Oh, yeah, and they've got a cat, too.
The married young couples are taking over paying the mortgages; the others, pretty much renting from C & Sid. It's more complex than that, but that is the pertinent gist. The only close family members not living in the Compound are Mom, happy in her own place for now, and Astrid and I, who are still attempting to eek out a living in San Francisco. I guess if we'd wanted to live in the South Bay, a glistening new unit may have been ours as well. I tried to convince the above players to pack up and move to the City, but it was a no-go.
What's fantastic about this whole thing is that all the twenty-somethings seem to be completely on board: everyone actually wants to live in such close proximity to their parental-types. I dig my family. But yes, they're weird. Present company included.
* Yes, I'm using the highly-gendered bathroom icons knowingly.
Andy Hallett, who played Lorne, part of the Angel Investigations team, died on March 29, 2009. He was only 33 years old. He'd had known heart disease since the series wrapped, and he hadn't been acting much in the last five years. Check out the Boston Globeobituary. Rest in peace, Andy.
The last term has commenced, and it's the worst one yet, in terms of the content of the classes:
Advanced Family Therapy (not so bad) Psychological Testing (blech!) Psychopharmacology (double-blech!)
No, unfortunately I can't write you a prescription for good psychotropic drugs. I just need to know this shit for the licensing test, and to understand the meds my clients may be on (or may need to be on.) The psychopharm professor is a character, to say the least. He's a psychiatrist, and being that he's an MD and into the proprietary order of things, he's insisting we address him with the "Doctor" in front of his name. When he writes on the white board, each word is like two feet tall by four feet wide. I don't know if he does this for emphasis, or because he assumes we can't read normal sized penmanship. He talks through the entire class, and the only discussion permitted is if we have a question, which he will directly answer, and then move right back to his lecture notes.
The complete draft of the thesis is due the week of June 19. After that, I'll get feedback for revisions, and have to turn in the final draft by July something or other. If I had a page written for every time I complained about this thing out loud, I'd have a fucking PhD dissertation by now. I just have to say, once again, that I wish I'd decided to write about the psychology of Buffy rather than the death anxiety in intimate relationships. If there were a topic ripe for putting off, this would be it.
Wouldn't it be nice if Winter break from school were an endless juggle of skiing, trips to the tropics, relaxing by the fire with expensive whiskey in my coffee mug, communing with friends and family in celebration of various festivals of light?
Well, I did have the celebrations of the season-appropriate holidays. But what if I were to tell you that, come Valentine's Day, I will likely still be out of classes? And as for the skiing and romps to Hawaii, it's a bit hard to vacation when you've been waiting for your financial aid check for months.
I'm sorry to be so cheeky, but that's just the mood I'm in. Truly I can't complain about the extra time off I've had, but on a budget, it's looked more like: sleeping in, playing Tetris, watching the remainder of Angel, Season Five, and cleaning the apartment. Woot, I say, woot!
Don't even ask me if I've worked on my thesis. Don't. I'll sock ya.
So, those of you who have been following the story already know that my crappy-ass college is in the midst of what one of my classmates has called a "hot mess." The latest news is that our faculty are threatening to resign as a group in order to force the administration to permit a "teach-out" to another institution, so that we can get on with our studies. The best case would be that our instructors could follow us to another school and we could continue our curriculum and finish sometime this summer. The worst case is pretty grim: the school shuts down and/or we can't secure a teach-out, and we have to drop out, get jobs, and re-apply to other programs, losing our clinical internships as well as most of the credit for classes we've already taken. And god knows what a pain in the ass it'll be to try to extract our loan money from the black hole that is our financial aid office.
So, yeah, thankful for the free time, but I can't say it's been terribly restful. I will report that my spirits are generally up. I feel really happy about my life other than the hot messiness of the school/money situation. Astrid and I celebrated our 1-year Shack-Up-iversary this weekend, by walking to the Mission to eat yummy tapas, then continuing our stroll for drinks at The Uptown, one of my fave dive bars, and then swing dancing at the Metronome in Potrero Hill. All the while, the evening was filled with oh-my-god-I'm-so-in-love-with-you-cooing and chatting and, yes, I am apeshit in love with that girl.
Today has been a truly relaxing day, even though I've been doing errands and such. It started with a much needed catch up breakfast date with my old pal Chauncy, for whom I made yummy sherry-poached eggs in a nest of wilted chard, onions and garlic, as well as fresh strong coffee and a bowl of fresh fruit - kiwis, bananas, and tangellos. Shoulda taken a photo of breakfast for you, sorry. Then I went to drop off dry cleaning (you don't wanna know how long it's been since my wool sweaters were laundered) and then I got my vote on. More on the presidential race later, perhaps. Are you curious who I voted for? Need I remind you that I'm registered Green...so I'm out of the Obama-Clinton tug o' war for the moment. Then I did a wee-bit of grocery shopping (I'm trying these high-fiber multi-grain tortillas that my mom has been raving about) and now I'm actually putting words to blog template. It's a good day, and there's so much more of it, ta boot. It really helps that it's sunny out.
* Astrid and I shacked up! This is a feat that occurred not without considerable angst on both our parts, given our respective histories of living with, and in my case, almost living with previous sweeties.
We're both pretty amazed and grateful that it's working as well as it is. We had a kick-ass housewarming party in March, and thus began our Alter to the Weird mantel installation. February '08 marks a year of living in sin!
* I started interviewing for clinical internships. I ended up applying to two really competitive places in the City that rejected me outright without a chance to interview. I also applied to work in the bereavement department at a hospice, doing short-term grief therapy with people who have recently lost loved ones. I had a killer interview (oof, no pun intended), and really hit it off with the director of the program, but they were too pokey about getting back to me, 'cause, as I was told later, they were holding out for someone a bit older if possible. Meanwhile, I interviewed at a fourth place, an LGBT mental health clinic, and ended up accepting a position there.
* Road-tripped down the coast for spring break. With our bikes tied to the back of the Astridmobile, the gf and I wound slowly 'round the coastal mountains, camped in Big Sur and biked through the wine country outside of Solvang. We bought some amazing chardonnay and pinot noir there and had a visit with some regal ostriches.
Moving further south, we did a great bike loop in Goleta through the UCSB campus, and then drove east to visit Astrid's family in the Mohave desert for Easter.
* My cousin Andrew died, tragically, horribly, wrongly. I’ve blogged about this before, so I won't belabor the point. I miss him. Everything else I will report about the year seems trifling in comparison, but it's the trifling matters that keep us sane, I guess.
* We wasted lots of time playing Dr. Mario on Astrid's old Nintendo 64 and watching back-to-back episodes of Buffy and Angel.
* I fucking finished my first year of grad school! I've immensely enjoyed being a student again, showing off my geeky chops, and using parts of my brain that had atrophied significantly over the last near-decade being a bean-counter. I've also learned a ton from my classmates and have made some really good pals. I would say, though, that I have mixed reviews on the whole about the hippy-dippy liberal arts college I chose. After two years at an institution that bounces student loan checks, hires mediocre instructors, and has been on WASC probation and on the brink of losing accreditation, I can't say I'd make the same choice again.
* Went on a camping trip at the Russian River. Highlights: swimmin' with the tadpoles, wine tasting, making killer aloo gobi over the campfire, snuggling with Ms. Astrid in the cozy tent.
*I rediscovered backgammon, a game I hadn't played in probably twenty years, and learned how to play dominoes, though I kind of suck.
* I resigned from my bookkeeping jobs!!! As of July of 2007, I turned in the ol' abacus and haven't looked back.
* I started my internship and began to work with my first psychotherapy clients. It's been an intense and humbling transition into this new work. I still have pretty much no idea what I'm doing, but the learning is really magical, and fucking hard, man.
* Astrid and I started taking ballroom dance lessons! We've learned a little rumba, swing (West Coast, East Coast, Lindy Hop, Charleston), and dabbled with some tango and foxtrot.
I hope as school mellows out, I'll be able to dance much more often with Astrid, 'cause she is, amazingly, even more radiant when spinning on a dance floor, shining that ecstatic smile at me.
* I avoided writing my thesis. Majorly. But as of this writing, the first draft (a drafty draft, indeed) has been handed in.
The Annual Pop/Culture Reviews:
Many of you know my trusty two-pronged rating system by now. If not, here's the method-in-madness:
1. The Star System - to convey my idea of the "objective merit" of a piece of work (i.e. if I were a professional critic, these are the ratings I'd give the thing). Wherein…
zero stars = abysmal * = meh ** = average *** = respectable **** = outstanding ***** = incomparable
2. Ranked-order – For each category, I will order from top to bottom, indicating the read, flick, or show I enjoyed the most to the least in that section. The way I rank shit may or may not correlate with the cultural zeitgeist (it often doesn't). This is how I can get away with ranking, say, Barbarella (**1⁄2) over the four-star Taxi Driver.
Capiche? Okay, onward!
The Books I Read in '07:
The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker **** (1973) – the book that inspired my thesis topic, Becker's influential Pulitzer winner rewrites psychoanalytic theory from an existential perspective, posing that the basic anxiety facing humanity is the terror of death. From this point of departure, Becker considers the psychological and philosophical explanations that connect basic character structure and psychopathology to the death anxiety. Highly recommended for all you cerebral types or anyone interested in death studies, existential philosophy, and critique of psychoanalysis. I mark it down from five stars because of Becker's dated take on the nature of homosexuality (this book was written before the psychiatric establishment changed its official stance on queerness as pathology) and also for Becker's insistence on a spiritual answer to the basic problem of death anxiety, lauding Christianity in particular. I think it's an annoyingly culture-bound conclusion to this otherwise extraordinary book.
- One of those street-sale scores, Astrid and I picked up this book quite randomly while on our way to eat a bowl of clam chowder, as I remember. I couldn't resist buying it when I read the ballpoint inscription in the front leaf (all in caps, mind you) "TO SOMEONE WHO WILL NEVER BE ONE…LOVE, MOM & DAD, 12/99." Ah, the blissful ignorance of well-meaning parents who don't understand that the geek identity has been firmly reclaimed. The book provides an overview of the history of the construction of the internet, from its modest bureaucratic beginnings at the Pentagon in the '60s to the era of microcomputing and commercialization of the web. Importantly, the author tells the story in a way simpletons like me can understand. Since the book and accompanying PBS documentary were produced in 1998, you can imagine how much of the story had yet to unfold. In this sense, it's as dated as Adam Sandler's hair in The Wedding Singer. But if you're a non-geek and curious about what the hell "packet switching" is and interested to hear about the launch of ALOHAnet, the first wireless computer network (all the way back in 1970!!) this is a really relaxed and educational read.
Anal Pleasure and Health by Jack Morin ****½ (1998, revised 3rd ed.) This is the ultimate Butt Bible, the most straight-forward and least embarrassing tome you can own that can help you find the way to digestive and anal-muscular health and pain-free anal exploration. Pick this book up if you want to reduce anal tension, become less freaked out about anal functions, increase your overall wellness, and get more enjoyment out of playing with your arse. The very small critique I would offer is that Morin's book gives very little attention to women who have sex with women (wsw).
His small research sample had very few lesbians/wsw, and I would love to see a book that included more discussion of anal sexuality among dykes. That said, the language in this 3rd edition is inclusive and widely applicable to people of all genders and sexualities, as well as to people who are interested in anal health more generally and not as drawn to the topic of sexual exploration.
Mortified ***1/2 (2006) edited by David Nadelberg. Mortified, the book, is an anthology of hits from the live shows of the same name, which happen regularly in New York, LA, Boston, San Francisco, and Chicago. The premise is simple: adults read their childhood and teenage diaries, letters, awful poetry, and other real-life angsty accounts, verbatim, in front of a live, frenetically laughing audience. "Mortified" has become quite a phenomenon, producing this book, and a forthcoming sequel (Mortified 2: Love is a Battlefield, due out this winter), as well as a host of merch and related video clips. To get a feel for the "Mortified" oeuvre, check out this pathetically hilarious story by Will Nolan, I Hate Drake.
Immaterial Facts: Freud's Discovery of Psychic Reality and Klein's Development of His Work **** (1988) by Robert Caper. One of the assigned readings for my Advanced Psychotherapy Techniques class, this book is a real gem, because it explains, in comprehensible prose, the context and timeline of Freud's theories and the clarification and modification of his work by Melanie Klein. This could be an enjoyable read for psych students and laypeople alike, though if you're unfamiliar with psychoanalytic theory, you might want to refer to other sources to help with the terminology. Try the allpsych dictionary as a companion reading.
Bicycling the Pacific Coast **** (2005, 4th ed.) Thorough and well organized guide to biking from Vancouver, B.C. to the California-Mexico border. We used this book extensively on our springtime car/bike trip down the coast. Full of easy-to-navigate maps, points of interest, hostel and campground info, and detailed route descriptions. Applicable for both novice and skilled cyclists.
Strangers In Paradise, Volume 3 **1/2 by Terry Moore. I enjoyed the third volume, but not nearly as much as the first two. I must trudge forward with the series once I'm done with all this thesis nonsense.
Yiddish with Dick and Jane ***, by Ellis Weiner and Barbara Davilman, with illustrations by Gabi Payn. Pretty funny parody of the old D&J primers, with a Yiddish flare and contemporary irony. Check out the abbreviated and quite clever YouTube version.
Films on the Big Screen:
No Country for Old Men ***** (2007) The Cohen Brothers' latest is certainly the best movie I've seen in some time, and the only new movie I've given five stars since Dirty Pretty Things back in 2003. No Country is the kind of movie you could put in a time capsule for people to dig up a hundred years from now so they might truly know America, in its arid beauty and its (masculine) antisocial violence. Amazing cinematography, performances, plot development, pacing, and a haunting simplicity that subtly masks the layers of meaning within. Check out Rocchi's review at Cinematical for a more thorough discussion. My only criticism is that the story, like so many other films (and the book it's based on), is concerned solely with the male experience and gives very little attention to the women whose lives are impacted by the narrative. I won't detract any stars for this, but I'm noting it because I really do want to see more films this brilliant about women's lives.
Pan's Labyrinth **** (2006) - beautiful fantasy by Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro in which a young girl splits her time between the enclave of her fascist general stepfather in Franco-era Spain and the magical, and sometimes just as dangerous, underworld of the labyrinth.
Little Darlings ***½ (1980) - revival at the Castro. Anyone who knows me is aware of my Little Darlingsfixation. Seeing it at the Castro was fucking awesome.
Pump Up The Volume ***1/2 (1990) – revival at the Castro. Also a treat to see on the big screen, the energy and spirit of this movie hold up over time, as does Christian Slater's performance. The pseudo-philosophic-politico rants are fluffy and vague, but this is as radical as Hollywood gets, I guess. And, um, the rooftop make-out scene with Samantha Mathis: hot, hot, hot!
Bleak and depressing in not nearly the clever and ultimately redemptive way that Squid was. The plot is weak relative to the rich character development that reveals the players' sympathetic sides just to the point that you can embrace them despite how self-absorbed and embarrassing they are. The performances are strong all around, and the dialogue is a solid B+, but I wish Baumbach would concern himself with a world beyond the idiosyncrasies of the East Coast intelligentsia.
"In mainstream movies the woman's role is mostly just to prove that the leading man is heterosexual. I'm not good at that, and I'm not interested in that." -Jennifer Jason Leigh
Citizen Kane ****½ (1941) - revival at the Castro. After seeing Citizen Kane again, for the first time on the big screen, I must admit that it wasn't quite as extraordinary as I'd previously felt. The visual mastery, innovative plot devices, and prescient political commentary are still truly captivating, and Orson Welles' performance is magnificent, one of the all-time best. My only critique is the other performances, which on the whole, were schmaltzy even giving allowance for the staginess so often present in films of the era.
Sicko *** (2007) - Michael Moore's latest documentary about the shitty American health care system. Depressing, as would be expected, given the subject matter. Full of fascinating international comparisons, from Paris to Cuba. Unfortunately also full of Michael Moore's usual heavy-handed narration which presumes the audience to be incapable of formulating its own opinions. Bless him for cracking open the glass ceiling on documentary, but here's hoping that someday he branches out stylistically.
Footloose **1/2 (1984) – revival at the Castro (double-feature with Pump Up The Volume). The less satisfying of the two movies, but full of fun 80s popculty nostalgia and deliciously over-the-top melodrama.
Sixteen Candles **1/2 (1984) – revival at Dolores Park. I think this teen angst flick from the John Hughes oeuvre is plainly classic, with highlights including paying a buck to see Molly Ringwald's underpants in the boy's bathroom, the jock-strap donning nerds, Jake and Caroline dancing to "True" by Spandau Ballet.
But the cheap racist/sexist humor tarnishes this movie substantially. Here's some commentary generated from the screening at Dolores Park this summer, concerning the depiction of Long Duck Dong, played by Gedde Watanabe. People don't seem to get as visibly upset about the sexism as they do about the racist caricatures, but it pisses me off every time I see the scene after the party, when Jake tells Farmer Ted "I could violate (a passed out Caroline) ten different ways if I wanted to." Overall, kind of painful to re-watch. And seeing this movie at Dolores Park, while a nice idea, was logistically awful: the park was so crowded, there was no way of getting an undisturbed view of the screen, and the sound was even worse.
TV shows on DVDWhich last year was dominated by a certain vampire slayer…
Buffy the Vampire Slayer – Season One ***, Season Two ****, Season Three ****, Season Four **½ , Season Five ****, Season Six *****, Season Seven ***½
Angel - Season One***, Season Two****, Season Three*****, Season Four **
What can I say about the Buffyverse and how much it's impacted my life in 2007? After watching nearly the whole of two series' worth of episodes, totaling some two hundred hours of DVD viewing, all the while in grad school getting my masters degree, you might say I've double majored in psychology and Buffyology. I seriously considered incorporating aspects from Buffy into my thesis, but it's a bit late for that. But needless to say, the themes in the series, specifically about death and destruction and love in the face of death, are some of what has gotten me so severely addicted.
Here are some good Buffyverse links, which are, naturally, full of spoilers. I've had to be vary sparing in my internet snooping about Buffy til recently, so I haven't explored these sites very thoroughly. Here are my impressions of some of 'em:
If you can suffer through the annoying pop-up ads, this site is a great all-around resource for Buffy/Angel fandom. It has summaries and intelligent reviews of the episodes by season, with ratings broken down into dramatic and comedic elements, as well as for how well the episode moved the story arc.
One of the only decently designed sites on general Buffy/Angel interest, as well as one of the only sites that has recent content (many fansites stopped growing after the shows wrapped in 2003/2004.) The cast/character page has adorable clickable avatars of all the major and recurring characters.
Ginormous amount of psycho/philosophical babble about all aspects of the 'verse, including character motivations, moral ambiguities, good vs. evil, the various theories of philosophy represented in the series, discussion boards, etc.
A message board about various themes in the 'verse. Pretty dated, but cool to see fans posting their thoughts, excitements, and gripes in real-time while the series ran.
Documentaries on DVD An Inconvenient Truth **** (2006) – the Al Gore documentary on global warming. If you haven't seen it, please do. While the narrative style (much like Al Gore himself) is a bit dry, the information presented really speaks for itself, powerfully. And please stop driving so fucking much, okay? That is all.
The right-wingers want you to believe this is a "natural" phenomenon that has nothing to do with industrialization and pollution.
The Celluloid Closet **** (1995; rerun) - Anyone who’s interested in film history, not just queer history, should see this documentary based on the book of the same title by Vito Russo. Both the book and the film detail Hollywood from the Silent era on through the first films in the '80s that presented a positive queer point of view. The film discusses how the "anti-obscenity" Motion Picture Production Code of 1930 drove queer themes underground and created a lasting legacy of cinematic invisibility at best and films filled with violent homophobia at worst. Really great interviews with Susan Sarandon in particular, as well as Tony Curtis, Arthur Laurents, Harvey Fierstein and more. Narrated by the amazing Lily Tomlin.
Word Play **** (2006) – highly enjoyable documentary on the mighty crossword puzzle: the people who create them and the people who go slightly mad solving them.
John Stewart rocks the crossweird.
Before Stonewall **** (1984) – pioneering documentary about LGBT political and cultural history for the decades preceding the Stonewall Riots, the explosive starting point of the contemporary Gay Liberation Movement. Wonderful interview footage of Harry Hay, Audre Lorde, Allen Ginsberg, and many more movers of GLBT liberation.
Jesus Camp ***1/2 (2006) – after seeing this film, discussing it with friends, and reading a decent amount of commentary about it, I'm still perplexed by it. The film's images and scenarios, played out candidly by avidly churchy children (whose beliefs seem dangerously concrete) still chill me, months after seeing it (earnest tears as they pledge allegiance to god's army, for example). What's most disturbing about it is the hands-off style of filmmaking, allowing the point of view of the filmmakers to be left ambiguous, with the exception of footage of an ex-right wing radio commentator given the floor periodically during the film's run. One of the most thoughtful reviews of the movie I've seen comes from David Byrne's blog. Have a look.
The U.S. Vs. John Lennon *** (2006) – Doc about John Lennon's anti-war and civil rights activism, primarily centered around his battle with the INS over deportation after marijuana possession charges in the early '70s. I found it enjoyable but not very enlightening, full of great personal footage and interviews but lacking in depth about much, be it his activism or his turbulent personal struggles. The editor at Ebert's page hits it on the head.
After Stonewall *** (1999) – the follow up to Before Stonewall. Worth seeing, as it documents the GLBT rights movement post Gay-Lib and focuses on the impact of AIDS/HIV on the community. Not nearly as well made or memorable as the first film.
Sigmund Freud: Analysis of a Mind ** A&E "Biography" episode about Freud's life and major works, which is overall not terribly revealing and remains theoretically very shallow. The only interesting footage comes in the two interviews with Freud's grandchildren. When dealing with one of the largest personalities of the 20th Century, and particularly with Freud, the ultimate narcissist, it is truly moving to hear a grandson's recollection of his grandfather's jaw cancer, and how Freud was in so much pain from his illness and some 30 surgeries that after a point, his lap just wasn't for sitting upon anymore.
Siggy in his 30s
Narrative Films on DVD
Punch Drunk Love **** (2002; rerun) – it took this second viewing of the movie to make me realize that it's possibly one of my all-time favorites. If you've never seen an Adam Sandler flick you've liked (and I wouldn't blame you), remember that this is not an "Adam Sandler movie" – it's a P.T. Anderson masterpiece.
The Big Lebowski **** (1998; rerun) - I’m finally beginning to understand the brilliance of this movie. It's also amazing to think about the breadth of the work of Joel and Ethan Cohen as filmmakers – that they are capable of such searing pop culture satire and also such rich dramatic tension, and that most of their movies contain strong elements of both, so that you can't put any of their films into one box or another.
A Scanner Darkly **** (2006) – I've never read Phillip K. Dick's novel, so I can't compare it here, but the animated film by Richard Linklater works beautifully. I was skeptical about Scanner at first, because I felt his earlier attempt at an animated feature, Waking Life, to be a long-winded regurgitation of the philosophical musings of the far superior Slacker.
And while I love Slacker, A Scanner Darkly accomplishes something that none of Linklater's films have before: its eerie emotional resonance lingers after viewing. It's not unlike the feeling of frantically scratching to rid oneself from the itch of the hallucinatory bugs of substance withdrawal, álà the movie's first sequence. This owes to the rich source material for the film, which expands Linklater beyond his usual micro personal milieu.
Stranger Than Fiction ***1/2 (2006) – I liked this Will Ferrell/Maggie Gyllenhaal flick a mite better than I thought I would. If you liked the thematically similar The Truman Show and the similar fiction-writing milieu of Adaptation, give this one a go. I'd say it's almost on par with the former, not as literary as the latter, and overall, a bit less challenging and neater/tidier than either.
The Princess Bride ***1/2 (1987; rerun) – I had only seen it once back in the day, and I decided to pop it in recently, since Astrid owns the disc. It holds up, for sure, especially the fantastic chemistry between Inigo Montoya (I had no idea that was Mandy Patinkin!) and Fezzik (Andre the Giant). There's a lot of snoozy parts, but certainly it's worth seeing again if it's been fifteen or twenty years since your last viewing. The one-liners alone ("…Anybody want a peanut?" "Have fun storming the castle!" et al) are quite satisfying when taken out of the popcultural ether and put back in the context of the movie.
Volver ***½ (2006) – It's wonderful to see a solid film about the emotional lives of women. But I felt similarly about The Hours: instead of "solid," or "very good," it'd be nice to see an excellent one for a change. And ah, those whimsical farting ghosts…
Conversation(s) with Other Women *** (2005) – I liked this talky film with Helena Bonham Carter and Aaron Eckhart. The performances were great, but the writing, and thus the emotion, fell flat often. The entire movie is rendered in split screen, and while distracting at times, this device was used to good effect to convey the different POVs of the two characters, as well as visually to invoke the possibilities of the past and future.
Primer *** (2004) Really fascinating and disturbing movie. I was left with two distinct feelings at the end: I was moved, and yet I didn't know what the fuck had happened. Here's some guy's understanding of the timeline of the movie, which considers both on-screen action and off-screen events that influence the plot.
The Science of Sleep *** (2006) – an imaginative romp and a pretty film to look at, with pretty leads (Gael Garcia Bernal and Charlotte Gainsbourg) to boot, but ultimately a film more memorable for its crafty visual effects than the somnambulant solipsism of its story.
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home *** (2006) The members of the Enterprise prevent the destruction of Earth by going back in time to save the humpback whales. Campy hilarity ensues.
Quinceañera *** (2006) A 15 year old Latina and her family deal with a mysterious pregnancy and the struggle to live amid the gentrification in their LA neighborhood. Good performances and a promising story, but the narrative could have used some significant changes. Jesse Garcia and Emily Rios in Quinceañera
Shortbus **1/2 (2006) - both better than I expected it to be, and not as good as I wanted it to be. Lots of sex – woot! Pretentious people – woot! A couple of the subplots are interesting and realistically portrayed, but this is a pretty disappointing follow-up to Hedwig.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer ** (1992) - the original movie that spawned the far superior TV show. The premise, of course, is fantastic: an airhead cheerleader at a Los Angeles high school learns her destiny as the Vampire Slayer. The execution, however, save for bits of campy goodness, stinks. How in sam hell did they get Donald Sutherland to be in this piece of shit movie?
Singles **1/2 (1992) – I'd never seen it before, if you can believe it. It was not as good as I thought it would be, and I don't have an explanation as to why I thought it'd be good. Campbell Scott is always good. Matt Dillon was pretty good. I kind of wished that Bridget Fonda's character had been played by Parker Posey instead; maybe then I'da given the flick three whole stars.
Love and Death **1/2 (1975) – by far not my favorite Woody Allen movie. (Can you tell I'm kind of tired of writing reviews now?)
Dead Silence * (2007) – you can't ask for much from a possessed dummy movie, though it was great fun watching it with a group of ornery folks while DJ pointed out the holes in the plot.
"Beware the stare of Mary Shaw, she has no children, only dolls," the inane refrain refrains.
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier * The one with the super-cheesy "God"-creature floating around in the deepest reaches of space, beyond the "Great Barrier." This is where my commitment to the Star Trek movies ends.
The Playlist
In which I talk about the new (which is sometimes quite old) music in my life!
I've been totally obsessed with this album for months, with its 30 songs worth of catchy, rollicking good tunes. All four band members (Chris Murphy, Jay Ferguson, Patrick Pentland, and Andrew Scott) contributed tracks, each with his unique flavor. With this record, Sloan runs the gamut from memorable Beatlesesque ditties to moody, airy tracks álà Grandaddy, and never loses their particular combo-punch of clever indie plus good old fashioned guitar crunch rock 'n' roll. What's best about this album is that the tuneful ballads, blasts of hard core, and quirky psychedelia all flow together beautifully with seamless track mixing and careful balancing of each of the songwriter's numbers.
The Mountain Goats: Get Lonely **** (2006) – I would say of the two Mountain Goats albums I acquired in 2007, Get Lonely just slightly edges out The Sunset Tree, with its subtle, small songs about love lost and losing yourself in the face of it. Several of the songs on the album make me cry routinely, like this one:
The Mountain Goats: The Sunset Tree **** (2005) – Like all of John Darnielle's lyrics, these are utterly earnest without losing their affecting emotionality. "This Year" might be one of my top 5 favorite songs of all time.
- an album I've been meaning to get for a few years now, as it's been referred to as influential to some acts I really like (Belle and Sebastian and Elliott Smith to name a couple.) Underrated and subdued, it's not the proto- punk of "You Really Got Me" but the reflective nostalgia of the Kink's middle period, with an oft-debated reverence/ironic sarcasm toward simpler times that may or may not have ever existed.
Chumbawamba: Shhh! ***½ (1992) – For the folks out there who have never heard any Chumbawamba besides the dangerously catchy/annoying 1997 single "Tubthumping", it's worth checking out this earlier release which captures more of the spirit of the band.
Despite "Tubthumping's" massive commercial success, the band of lefty anarcho-punk d.i.y.ers, needless to say, have a range and stylings that are much broader and more interesting (i.e. punk, pop, folk, labor songs, dub, hip hop, gospel) showcased playfully on this ode against artist censorship.
- I have a passing interest in prog rock, and more than a passing interest in the sociomusical influence of prog on newer forms of music and on pop culture. I'm fascinated, for example, with the prog rock family tree that so many major bands in the '70s and '80s have been connected to. Greg Lake, for example, was one of the original members of King Crimson, and then went on to form Emerson, Lake & Palmer, and then played with the prog supergroupAsia. Anyway, yeah, I'm a rock triv dork.
- Billy Bragg's third album represents a shift toward more singable folk-pop, with all the lefty political spirit still intact. In fact, even as he has moved on to much more generously produced music, he's never compromised the politics, the homage to the labor movement, and the grit of his early days. Check out "Greetings to the New Brunette," the standout (and most accessible) track, for a taste of Billy's brand of spirited folksy-rocky-political-
love song. If you want to start with something a bit more contemporary than this often straight-up leftist fight song collection, check out his later release with Wilco, Mermaid Avenue, for which the songsmith was hired by the estate of Woody Guthrie to put the legendary folkie's unpublished manuscripts to music. The results are gorgeous.
Live Shows
Mountain Goats at The Independent 3/7 ***** - Darnielle conveys so much spirit and joy, even when he's singing the most heartbreaking songs. I think if I were a rock star, this is what I'd aspire to: writing songs with meaning; performing them with utmost relish; being low-key enough to publish my photos on flickr.
Sunset Rubdown at The Independent 10/21 ***** - showing up on time really improves the concert experience. One of the best live shows I've ever seen, and this with lead brainchild Spencer Krug feeling a bit under the weather.
The chaotic sound scrapes, evocative vocals, and Spencer's sweat dripping onto the keyboard: concert-going bliss.
Photo of Spencer at the show compliments of The Undertoad.
Sloan at the Independent 4/30 ***1/2 - this would've been a four-star review, 'cause Sloan is always fantastic in concert, but this time they made the audience squirm through about a half-dozen songs with Andrew on lead vocals, and while the guy is a great drummer and a competent songwriter…HE. CANNOT. SING. The songs he wrote and performed on Never Hear the End of It are catchy and short, and his voice in-studio is mixed down enough that it can actually sound decent. Live, he can't keep a tune, really. So anyway, minus Andrew's songs, Sloan rocked the fuck out at the Independent.
They Might Be Giants at The Fillmore 9/30 **** I blogged about this show here.
Pinback at Bimbo's 10/27 *** - the band wasn't in top form this time 'round – Zach's voice was just off, cracking like a 13 year old boy's. His guitar playing, as usual, was sublime. Rob held his own, and the instrumentation was trance-inducing, in a really good way.
Sunset Rubdown at the Bottom of the Hill (no rating) 4/22 – this one barely counts, ‘cause Astrid, DJ, and I got there so late we only got to see three songs. They were opening for a really pretentious noise band called Xiu Xiu. Thank god we got to see 'em again later in the year.
Had my first day of school today, with the end of summer on my mind. This song's been in my head all day.* Had me a blast, I did. Off the top, this is what I did this summer:
- went camping a couple times - started a nerdy alumni site for my Jewish camp friends - started my clinical internship - watched a lot of Buffy - read a bit for my thesis - started taking ballroom dance lessons with the GF! - put all my old photos into albums - made out with Olivia Newton-John under the dock
We had one class tonight. I think I'm gonna like our new instructor for family therapy; she's a no-bullshit kinda lady. The other thing that happened at school was that the dean of our department assured us that even though our hippy-ass college is under probation and may lose its accreditation, our degrees won't be affected. As long as we are enrolled in an accredited college, she tells us, we're covered. Future students might not fare so well. I'll keep you all posted, naturally.
*Note: link changed from original. Now, watch the stop-motion Lego version of "Summer Nights" from Grease - it's hilarious. Something sublime about little lego men saying, "You got in her drawers, right?"
Many of you who have been to my apartment know that I've had successive shitty futons in the living room for the entire five years I've been here. The last one was nicknamed "Jerry" by DJ, or maybe it was Bob, but regardless of who named it, I mean him, I mean it, I could never succumb to acknowledging the moniker.*
Now that Astrid and I are making a home together, we both immediately acknowledged our need of a proper couch. There were too many nights of Buffy watching forced apart, each of us sitting on our respective old stuffed chairs, separated by what seemed like miles (picture me in full dramatic pose, forearm on forehead, to cover my tragedy-stricken brow.) Anyhow, we needed one.
Astrid did some fine legwork on Craigslist and found a full-sized couch that we both really liked, which lived with its gay boy owner not three blocks away from our place (although I don't name objects, I clearly have no problem anthropomorphizing them). We made an appointment to look at it, loved it, and paid the deposit. A few days later, we ensnarled DJ into our very flawed plan to transport the couch atop Astrid's automobile and move it up the very narrow, steep stairway and into the apartment. This was to be accomplished inside a window of an hour and a half or so, after which we were supposed to go see the new Simon Pegg movie, Hot Fuzz.
DJ and Astrid sweated and grunted and shoved the couch in as many angles as they possibly could, for the better part of an hour, and the bloody couch would not get through the door. Our friend MJ, who showed up to join us for the movie, tried a few Rubik's Cubish (Cubist?) maneuvers as well, and even I made a couple token attempts, but when it comes to manual labor, I'm pretty much useless (I've never done a single pull-up; glad they didn't flunk me outta school on account of those Presidential fitness tests!) We'd measured first and everything, that was the bitch of it, but the couch simply couldn't get passed the funky door angles to have a chance to be dragged up the stairs.
In a last-ditch effort, Astrid and DJ tried getting the thing into the alley on the side of the house, so's to move it up the equally physically impossible back stairs; unfortunately, the couch got caught in the narrow corridor, snagging under a slat of fence, and in the dark, there wasn't a way to figure out how to pull it passed that point and onto the patio even to be able to make an attempt at the stairs.
Sigh.
After that, we sent DJ and MJ away to meet Bob for the movie. Sitting on the couch, which was relegated to the sidewalk in front of our apartment, Astrid and I fell into despair and frustration.
I went upstairs and brought down some beers and A's computer (yes, so we could watch a Buffy episode.) We ordered a pizza to the couch. We asked passersby if they'd like to buy it. Some of them sat down and chatted with us: it was a happenin' scene.
At about 1:30 am, we decided to surrender the couch to the fates, and dragged the cushions upstairs in hopes that the bare springy frame would be less attractive and thus less "scoreworthy" for the would-be takers. I still had hopes to re-sell it on Craigslist to someone with a bigger doorway; Astrid held out for the impossible dream that we'd be able to get it upstairs if only we tried hard enough. The night passed, and the couch was still there when we woke up. There was minor forensic evidence suggesting someone had made it their bed for the night. Astrid had a study group that day, and I was around at home, peeking through the window periodically to see if anyone had claimed it. No one had. When A came home, she utilized CL yet again to procure us some movers who showed up in the evening and managed to get the couch through the alley, and up the back stairs. They strained, walked on top of the railings, lifted the couch clear over their heads to maneuver the tight corners, and did contortions to their bodies we had no right to have asked of them, but by god, they got that fucking thing into the apartment.
After we paid and handsomely tipped the movers (nearly doubling our expense for the couch), Astrid escorted them downstairs. When she came back up, we embraced. I was so in awe of Astrid's persistence, so relieved and extatic to have the couch we wanted sitting in our living room, so fucking in love, and, quite honestly, slightly terrified. The feeling welling up in me in that moment may not have been unlike Ceeb's when she suggested that the 'Flix account she shares with Dax felt like a real commitment [though I'm certain my comment was less "couched" (groan!) in sarcasm than was Ceeb's.]
Standing next to our new couch, I looked at my beautiful girlfriend, shook my head, and said, "Baby, you know this means we're married, right?"
xo Bree
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* Though this is totally irrelevant, it might also be acknowledged that I've never been one to name inanimate objects like cars or favorite gadgets, much less crappy futons, though I did name my menstrual cycle as a teenager, at the behest of my Jewish youth group cohorts, all of us agreeing on the ritual as a counterpoint to the guys naming their penises. Among our group's cycles were "Amethyst" and "Wawona;" mine was "Marguerite."
Can't believe I haven't told you about the Family Compound yet! It's apropos now, since we had our first Thanksgiving there yesterday. Here's the deal: the vast majority of my immediate family has moved into a condo complex together in the thriving pseudo-metropolis of Campbell, California, home of, among other things great and small, the Pruneyard Shopping Center.
Unit 1 - C. & Sid's place: three-bedrooms, and the likely hub of many future family gatherings.
Unit 2 - My sister J.'s place: two bedrooms, one filled floor-to-ceiling with skeins of yarn (I should know; I helped her unpack it). Locus of crocheting and creative fiction writing frenzies to come. Also home to two kitties.
Unit 4 - My niece Ursula & nephew Zach's place: two bedrooms, a sweet loft, and likely home of many poker games and Buffy re-viewings. Urse and Zach are cousins, and had been sharing a place together before the Compound was hatched up. Zach has a new kitty named after a maneuver in a popular video game.
