i love you in the face.

We made this together.

2011-11-15T10:36:00.000-08:00

This is my first Cinemagraph. Jon and I spent Sunday afternoon filming, editing and constructing. The trick is to find both an img and a movement that stands outside of the idea of film but still tells more than an abbreviated or static story. We didn't spend an inordinate amount of time on logistics (roof access and an iPhone 4S usually solve everything anyway) or design details (blur tool ftw) - this was just a first trial to get the hang of things - but the end result made me think of a poem and means I'll probably use each further cinemagraph as an excuse for creative writing exercises.*

*And yes, I kept a detailed journal of my feelings in high school and often listened to the same Tori Amos album on repeat. Lit Nerd-dom really is the gooiest Nerd-dom.

"Hanna" Review

2011-03-05T16:48:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time in the wilds of wintry Finland, there lived a 15-year old genetic experiment with hair of gold, nerves of steel and the preternatural strength to physically subdue a grown man without batting a cornsilk eyelash.

Director Joe Wright (Atonement, Pride & Prejudice) introduces Huldra-like Hanna (Saoirse Ronan) and moments after a demonstration of her bow-hunting prowess, sets the movie’s title on typographical stun as a sort of cinematic majescule that immediately fosters a fairy tale feel for both film and character.

Hanna’s Mom is dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. (“What did your Mom die of?” “3 bullets.”) So it falls to the viewer to reason that the unkempt man in animal skins (Eric Bana) engaging Hanna in all manner of educative and sprinting-through-the-snow-Rocky-style training must be her Dad. Melancholic mooning over a strip of photos and a book of, you guessed it, Grimms' Fairy Tales also makes it clear that young Hanna isn’t quite satisfied with solitary life in the forest and yearns for, at the very least, options.

Reluctantly, Erik (Papa Animal Skins) admits her assassin education is complete and she’s ready to return to the real world but warns of murderous CIA honcho, Marisa (a ginger and decidedly Southern-fried Cate Blanchett) who will hunt her until either “you or she is dead.” If we’ve learned anything from “Twilight,” it’s that teenage girls, particularly the storybook variety, aren’t known for being conservative on the risk front. After literally flicking a switch, our fair complected young heroine blows her world wide open and winds up in government containment hoping to complete her kill before being killed mission and ultimately, rendezvous with Erik in Berlin. Things don’t exactly go according to happily ever after. Hanna finds herself on the run, half in love with beautiful world that she doesn’t belong to and on a warp speed assimilation trajectory into the trials of teendom. Watching Miss Raised by a Wolf attempt to surf the internet and deal with the prospect of her first kiss sounds disastrous but was handled with enough skill to be tender and relatable rather than silly.

While Wright keeps easy pace with the speed of the thrill-centered plot, he also patiently, almost painstakingly, lingers on the stimuli and interactions that develop Hanna into something far beyond a novelty plot vehicle. Her first friend, Sophie (splendidly played by Jessica Barden), inclusion in a happy family, the overwhelming sounds of the modern world and even the various cultures and landscapes she observes, all comprise the uncharted depths of a more complicated version of life than either her father or Marisa represent. Unfortunately, there’s so much focus on Ronan’s development, the minimal attempts to provide insight into any other character’s motivations are too belated or murky (My what sharp teeth you have, Cate Blanchett!) to be poignant. More unfortunate is the rushed, annoyingly tidy ending that loops improbably back to the original premise instead of addressing lessons learned and does more to suggest an ill-advised sequel than adequately sum up the progression of the tale.

Score by the Chemical Brothers is well worth the admission price as are scene-stealing support performances by Tom Holland, Olivia Williams, Jason Flemyng.

Strange Skies by Matt Marinovich

2007-09-20T10:42:00.000-07:00

Book review!

Madeleine L'Engle: 1918 – 2007

2007-09-10T18:17:00.000-07:00

Madeleine L'Engle was my favorite author as a kid. I'm sad that she's gone.

It's Only The Best Game Ever

2007-09-05T15:26:00.000-07:00

This is my favorite Pajiba guide/activity yet.

How's The Peeping, Tommy? Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.

2007-08-30T20:49:00.000-07:00

Here's my review of Hitchcock's Rear Window.

Poor Lil' Josh Hartnett

2007-08-27T05:48:00.000-07:00

Resurrecting the Champ review.*

* Here's the Metadish link to my review (thanks to Stacey's sharp eye and generous spirit.)

Bragtasm

2007-08-23T17:06:00.000-07:00

Harper's Bazaar loves Pajiba!
(Check out #14)

Interview (2007)

2007-08-07T20:28:00.000-07:00

I have a review ( that's being widely ignored) up on the Paj right now. What's important about the movie I reviewed is not that Sienna Miller is the hot, blonde toast of Hollywood or that Steve Buscemi really (REALLY) likes to gab about interpersonal drama. What's actually important is that Theo van Gogh, the director of the original Dutch version of Interview, was murdered for making the below film. The theme of Interview has a lot to do with the way current society values celebrity and why that attention is mostly misplaced. If nothing else Interview is a good indicator of the poor ways people go about trying to either fix or ignore our world with idle chatter. I'm glad I watched Sienna and Steve battle it out because the film made me kick myself for being a selfish neurotic, but more importantly it made me google the bloody hell out of the original movie and ultimately find this:

Submission---------------->

So...Paris who?

The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears

2007-08-04T08:12:00.000-07:00

New book review up on the Paj.

Broken English Review

2007-07-19T20:51:00.000-07:00

Here's some wah-freaking-wah at the Pajiba.com.

Dear Blog,

2006-09-12T15:47:00.000-07:00

On Keeping a Journal: "Superficial to understand the journal as just a receptacle for one’s private, secret thoughts — like a confidante who is deaf, dumb and illiterate. In the journal I do not just express myself more openly than I could to any person; I create myself. There is often a contradiction between the meaning of our actions toward a person and what we say we feel toward that person in a journal. But this does not mean that what we do is shallow, and only what we confess to ourselves is deep. Confessions, I mean sincere confessions of course, can be more shallow than actions.......One of the main (social) functions of a journal or diary is precisely to be read furtively by other people, the people (like parents & lovers) about whom one has been cruelly honest only in the journal. "
- Susan Sontag

In an earlier post, I made mention of blogs being personal and not personal and whatthefuckever. That line is admittedly more ambiguous and less classy than the above speculation but the sentiment was the same (you can believe that or not). The act of blogging feels personal and like a journal, is an expressive outlet. However, posts are created to be publicly read and most definitely judged by others. This suggests an obvious difference between a private written diary and a blog... but that difference is really only in the details. Like a journal, of the moment criticisms, emotions, and subjective interests are expressed. The 'cruel honesty' within the pages of a diary does not have the immediate threat of being read but having a written record of "private" observations will eventually negate the meaning of the word "private" anyway. It interests me that Susan Sontag's observations are so relevant to the new world of the interweb as is the simple fact that I can re-post this direct quote from her journal. Online blog/comment aficionados, just like diaryaholics, have the option of believing the blank posting box (blank page) to be a deaf, dumb and illiterate space within which they are free to reveal themselves truly. Paradoxically, they also hope that their secret hearts will be heard and noticed.

By typing this disclaimer I might actually be proving my earlier points wrong wrong wrong but that's fine. My secret heart's a survivor.

In slightly related news, a friend mentioned one of my blogs in real life recently and the conversation fell very, very flat -->

Friend: That Starbucks blog you wrote where ordered the same thing as the person in front of you was pretty funny.

Me: Really? Thanks. Yeah, I usually get the same thing like, every time I go there and this time I just thought it'd be interesting if I, you know, got what someone else was having.

Friend: ....Yeah.

Me: [Silence]

Friend: [More silence]

"In the journal I do not just express myself more openly than I could to any person; I create myself."

And apparently, I also schill for Starbucks.

Yours Truly,
iloveyouintheface