Sunset Boulevard

CREEPY movie. Norma Desmond could well have been a monster, a la Frankenstein. The more I see of Billy Wilder's noirs, the more impressed I am with his comedies which I adore: Ball of Fire, Some Like It Hot, Sabrina.

Fun fact: when Sunset Boulevard was first screened before a test audience, it had a different beginning which set a completely different tone. The audience thought it was ludicrously funny, and they couldn't stop laughing throughout the movie. I guess that's a testament to the thin line between comedy and tragedy.

Here's a question: is there anything instrinsic to comedy that constitutes art? Or is a particular comic piece art because it's art, and funny only by accident?

Anyways, it's a shame the beautiful Montgomery Clift turned down this role. He's great for those roles where the character doesn't seem to have a whole lot of that flashy-brand of charm, but for some inexplicable reason women fall at his feet and offer him the world. The Face helps sort of to fill in the missing pieces. Aha, you say; I'd go crazy for Montgomery Clift too! But for William Holden? Um...yeah. Well, I will say that Holden has this much going for him over Clift, which is that I do have an easier time believing that he'd reach that pitch of desperation and hollowness...

...which is ironic, because who could be more desperate and miserable than Montgomery Clift? Rather than believing that beauty is an amulet against suffering, I should believe it's the one guarantee.

Sandwich

I discovered that I'm kind of a lover of vegetarian-like sandwiches. I discovered this totally on accident, when I arrived late to a luncheon and there were only the vegetarian ingredients left - and to my surprise, it was f-ing delicious! My new sandwich these days combines these "hippie" elements without abandoning my regular affinity for meat: turkey, tomato, broccoli sprouts, tofu, goat cheese, ranch dressing. Yum!

Frustration

I had a bad section today. I don't know why I have so much trouble holding it together when I'm teaching, but I can just predict that my evaluations will says something like I'm scatterbrained and hard to understand. I was disappointed too because I was hoping that it would get a lot better this week with Euripides' Bacchae, after 2 miserable weeks with Levi-Strauss. It's such an interesting play that I can't understand how I couldn't get a more interesting discussion going.

Perhaps it's the whole "cruel governness" thing come back to bite me. I kind of didn't take the time to be nice this term because I was so fed up last term with all their goddamn whining. It may have had the effect of making them so terrified of me that they won't risk a wrong answer, or so indifferent/hostile to me that they don't feel they need to throw me a frickin bone sometimes.

Dr. Bikini's Idiot Guide to Making a Woman Happy

We've all been there, hearing men complain about how women are so difficult and irrational and manipulative - in short, that he can't figure out what's going through her mind, before he just writes it off as "playing games." It occurred to me that, actually, women aren't difficult at all; their demands are finite and predictable, and so for the benefit of mankind and womankind I formulated a theory, asked around to see if people accepted it, and now I'm sharing it. Suggestions are welcome.

1. ACT LIKE YOU ENJOY HER COMPANY. In other words, don't treat her like she's some burden that you have to put up with when you'd rather be doing something else. Don't promise to call, and then just say you're calling because you said you'd call; that's almost worse than not promising at all. Instead, try saying that you like talking to her.

2. SHOW SIGNS THAT YOU ARE THINKING OF HER EVEN WHEN SHE'S NOT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE. This is where the phone calls and gifts come in. It's not about the quality of the gifts, it's about the reassurance that the woman is not totally forgettable. No one wants to be forgettable. And no one wants to be used just because she happens to be convenient. It's true that better gifts are expected when you're supposed to put a lot of thought into them - ie Valentine's Day - but on the right day even a Pez dispenser will be deeply appreciated.

3. BE PHYSICALLY PRESENT. This is perhaps the trickiest of the three, with the most variation according to the person. Unlike items 1 and 2, which address the "Jesus, he makes me feel like shit," complaint, this last item is meant to keep her from wondering, "Why do I even have a boyfriend? What is his utility?" Let's say there are some basic minimum occassions that you should spend with her: birthdays, Valentine's, big celebrations (like graduation), and some of the date nights (= Friday and/or Saturday). Add to this certain other times when she feels she really needs your presence. For some this could mean professional obligations, for others parties where she has to show up her friends; others still might require a hobby partner. For example, I personally might start to ponder the uselessness of a man if he refuses to go with me to dangerous urban areas where I usually have to go to hear live music. Etc. etc.

The rest of the relationship should be games-independent: don't lie, don't cheat, be compatible, and inspire love.

DTR

True story:

"What are we doing?"
"You mean, like...tonight?"

Ha! Funny cuz it's true.

MST3K: Manos: Hands of Fate

That was a BAD movie. And no, it wasn't even funny-bad. It was just boring-bad. There were seriously 20 minute intervals in which nothing would happen. Sure, it had all the 60's cheese and poor production values that we come to know and love in such parody-able films like this, but Manos was surely in a league of its own. I'm almost amazed that MST3K was able to make an enjoyable commentary out of this.

Another One of Those Periodic Awakenings

Midway in the journey of our life
I came to myself in a dark wood,
for the straight way was lost.

PS, it's not really depression this time. I just feel rather directionless, like I'm wasting my time. As evidenced by my having nothing to say on my own - I mean, seriously, I head is a frickin blank.

Rashomon, with Spoilers

I thought a lot about this movie, and the most singular thing I find is the way each person claims that he or she is the murderer. The most puzzling thing is which was the murder weapon. In the beginning I thought that the samurai's story had to be the most accurate - partly because the monk says something like it's unthinkable that a dead man would lie, and partly because it seemed the most psychologically realistic - guilt and despair seem to be the appropriate responses when you fail to protect your wife, and she loses a knife fight trying to free you, and she gets raped in front of your eyes - but then I remembered that, oh yeah men are assholes, so maybe it isn't so far-fetched that he'd become as self-righteous and loathing ("I'd sooner regret losing the horse than a dishonored wife like you") instead of, you know, sad or humiliated.

The Wacky Interpretation:
In an attempt to explain how the most bizarre and seemingly unmotivated aspects of the story would have worked their way into the different versions - ie the wife's version - I'd like to suggest that the wife was the murderer. She went crazy and killed her husband with the dagger, while the men were so ashamed of not fighting that they pretended to have executed the deed themselves through more honorable means (sword fight, suicide). The Woodcutter corroborates the sword fight story simply to conceal the fact that there ever was a dagger.

The Conservative Interpretation:
The greatest intersection occurs between the Woodcutter's and Tajomaru's versions. Tajomaru would be most committed to maintaining face as the reckless bandit. The Woodcutter would be most committed to pretending there was no dagger. Excepting those details which are subject to bias, we might reasonably determine that:
1. The wife incited a duel between Tajomaru and her husband.
2. Tajomaru killed the husband (consider that he has the least to benefit from claiming to be the murderer).
We might futher assume that:
3. The rape was actually consentual, and the wife considered running off with Tajomaru afterwards (a fact the wife would be anxious to conceal)
4. Tajomaru begged the samarai's wife to marry him (a fact Tajomaru would be anxious to conceal)
5. The husband responded by acting like a complete asshole (a fact the husband would be anxious to conceal).
6. The sword fight was clumsy (as per the Woodcutter's version).

The Murder Weapon?
Logically it makes most sense to think it was the sword. Why else would Tajomaru have been so surprised to be asked about the dagger? He must have genuinely forgotten it was there, because he would have sold it otherwise. On the other hand, the ghost's description of a passer-by stealing the knife out of his chest is one of the most striking moments in the movie. Furthermore, why would the samurai and his wife have invented this small detail? It's possible to think that they simply had to, because the rest of their stories have Tajomaru run away with both swords before the murder or suicide takes place. But the wife, at least, would have had to have assumed that the murder weapon was obvious - how could she have known that it wasn't still in the body when it was found, or that the wound was indeterminate? - and in any case it seems uncharacteristically circumspect to fabricate such small details. Then of course there is the Woodcutter, whose claim that the murder weapon was a sword is the most suspect of all.

Thus, I venture that it could plausibly have been either sword or dagger. If it was the sword, we can think of the Woodcutter's version of the fight without much editing. If it was the dagger, we might imagine that in a moment of confusion and clumsiness, Tajomaru grabbed the dagger and killed the samurai with it. He didn't think of selling it because he was too unwilling and/or distracted to pull it out of a dead man's chest...

Which means that the Woodcutter would be the sort of monster who would not only rob a dead man of some stuff lying nearby, but would go one outrage further in stripping the corpse itself. This I think is the most interesting interpretation. His crisis of conscience was more severe than the situation seemed to warrant.

It would be so much easier for me to be a good person

and have sympathetic feelings for the truly unfortunate - ie the homeless in places of below-freezing weather - if they didn't smell like urine. There's a homeless person in this coffeeshop right now, and it almost makes me begrudge the warm interior space to her because it impinges on MY comfort to put up with the urine smell.

I often wish that I didn't betray such patently obvious signs that I'm going to hell.

What the Hell Is a Hard Drive?

For the last 10 years or so I always thought that a hard drive was the part of your computer that stores all your files. I must have been wrong, because I got a totally new hard drive, tabula rasa so to speak, but all my files and settings and everything else are perfectly intact.

Can't explain it, but yay for me.

iPod Broken

Ha, my life just keeps getting better and better. All these little annoying things.

Icicles

This weekend produced some of the crappiest weather I have ever seen. It was raining and freezing, sometimes slushy and often icy. I could hardly even use my car because it would be covered it a sheet of solid ice, which made the scraping process not only unpleasant but sometimes very laborious.

The one nice thing that came out of it, however, is that the trees look exceptionally magical now. Between yesterday and today it actually got cold enough to stop raining and start snowing, so that on top of the icicles hanging from the trees is a thin layer of powder snow, and the branches hang lower than usual because of all the weight so that you can see the little beads in the lamplight. If I were to make Christmas decorations, I'd make them look like these trees.

MST3K: The Wild World of Batwoman

with a short on cheating.

Ah, a marriage made in heaven: cheapie B flicks + cheesy shorts + snarky jokes by puppet robots! I can see how it would be hard to stomach if you don't like bad movies in themselves, but luckily for me, I have a keen academic interest in stuff like that. Even I, however, would lose patience sitting through a whole piece of crap with no plot, so the jokes make the viewing experience go down a lot easier.

The Wild Wild World of Batwoman was exceptional for MST3K because it has a limited dose of the campy horror - represented only by the mad scientist with his gimpy assistant, and perhaps also by the mention in passing that Batwoman's vixen-minions are vampires - and instead it's almost like a beach party movie, with some action thrown in. In other words, it was totally up my alley, every element of my favorite kind of camp! The bat girls run around and wrestle and, especially, dance in bikinis, sometimes on the beach, sometimes in a cage (with a rope tied as a leash around the bat girl's neck), and once even with a Beatles-esque band playing the tunes. In order to execute the villain's evil designs, the mad scientist devises a pill that makes people feel good and start dancing, and he drops his little roofie number on the bat girls whenever he needs them distracted. Hence the irrelevant dancing.

As the robots comment (paraphrase), "This movie is like a Warhol, except weird."

PS - I forgot to mention that wonderful scene where Batwoman is trying to get information through a seance, and her spirit accidently keeps talking "Chinese" and she keeps repeating, "There is no one here who understands the oriental language" until it gets stale even as a gag! To this the robots say, "It's Asian, not oriental, sister!" and as the scene concludes, "On behalf of all Asians and people everywhere, we apologize." Oh mercy!

No Computer and No TV Makes Rex a Dull Boy

But my first Netflix should be arriving tomorrow, saving me from myself, especially during the long weekend. I have high hopes: my first selection was an episode of Mystery Science Theater. If it ends up being good, I'm totally in gravy because they have over 30 episodes.

Hopefully I'll have more to talk about once I fill my head again with tv.

I'm feeling good about myself. I swam 20 laps today, even though it was freezing outside, and it actually took me less than an hour, which means I must be getting better.

It also turns out that I backed up about 3/4 of my pictures (and the remaining 1/4 may still be in my camera), so if I can't recover my computer files, I'll only be losing some emails at the most. Remind me to add that to my list of back-ups when I'm up and running again. If you're wondering why I'm not more broken up about my computer troubles, my reasons are threefold. Reason the first, I backed up almost everything important. Reason the second, it looks like it'll cost me about $70 to fix the problem (new hard drive). Reason the third, it's still the beginning of the semester, so now's as good a time as any for computer troubles.

Computer Breaking Again

I totally don't need this right now. Luckily I just backed up all my files. What are the odds.

It's a Bikini World, Revisted

Once again, the greatest movie ever. I finally got to see the whole thing, and picked out some choice quotes:

Did Pebbles ever mention her?
Um, let me think…
Right, calls for drastic measures.

I’d like to buy a skateboard.
Groovy. What color?
Oh. How about fuschia?
I doubt if he’ll have that –
Fuschia number one, fuschia number two, or fuschia number three?

The Hundred Years War? Where did you ever learn about that?
I’m a math major.

If I tried to kiss you, would you yell for help?
Would you need help?

Excuse me, chicks.

* * *

Ps, happy birthday to David Johansen, my personal hero and fashion icon.

New Haircut, New Me

As usual, I asked for a 2-inch cut and they cut off 5 inches. But they also layered my hair in such a way that I have a bit of a mullet thing going on. The top layers are very short - business-like, if you will; while the back layers are all party.

Worried About Global Warming

That is all. I'm not doing anything about it yet. I often feel I should expand my extracurricular activities. But then I have a hard enough time with my curricular activities.

Skinny Jeans Theory

My theory about skinny jeans is that you can't wear them unless you're skinny. Clarification: wearing skinny jeans does not make you look skinny. My new, first pair of skinny jeans confirms this theory. I got them because they look cool in every other way - wash, destruction, zippers - but I sigh and wonder why they couldn't just make them bootcut. The "painted on" cut doesn't really balance out the top mass at the butt and thighs.

Little Miss Sunshine

That was like the most tragic thing I've ever seen. I spent a good part of the movie weeping. But it was also extremely funny - the best combination! Greg Kinnear I thought was especially good in his role.

"Olive, come over here for a second? Come here, sit down. Okay. There is no sense in entering a contest if you don't think you're gonna win. So, do you think you're gonna win Little Miss Sunshine?"
"Richard!"
"Are you going to win?"
Pause.
"Yes!"
"We're going to California!"

Dad: "Olive, can I tell you a little something about ice cream? Well, ice cream is made from cream, which comes from cow's milk, and cream has a lot of fat in it."
Mom: "Richard!"
Dad: "What? She's going to find out anyway, remember?"
Olive: "What? Find out what?"
Dad: "Well, when you eat ice cream, the fat in the ice cream becomes fat in your body."
Mom: "Richard, I swear to God -"
Dad: "It's true -"
Olive: "What's wrong?"
Mom: "Nothing, nothing's wrong."
Dad: "So if you eat a lot of ice cream you might...become...fat, and if you don't you're gonna stay nice and skinny, sweetie."
Grandpa: "Olive, Richard is an idiot. I like a woman with meat on her bones."
Olive: "I don't...why is everyone so upset?"
Mom: "No, no one's upset honey. I just want you to understand it's okay to be skinny, and it's okay to be fat, if that's what you want to be. Whatever you want, it's okay."
Dad: "Okay Olive, but let me ask you this: those women in Miss America: are they skinny, or are they fat? Honey?"
Olive: "Well...they're skinny, I guess."
Dad: "Yeah. I guess they don't eat a lot of ice cream."

Ride the Wild Surf

Holy cow that was a good movie! I always wondered what would happen if they took all the singing out of the beach party movies - since the singing always irked me the most. The result, it turns out, is more realism, drama, and adventure at the expense of comedy. Ride the Wild Surf basically replaced all the musical numbers of the Funicello-Avalon flicks with actual real-life North Shore surf footage. You'd think that would be all pro and no con - like trading in garbage for steak - but for me the jury is still out. The question is: is it possible to have a thrill-centric surf movie that is light-hearted and funny without the musicals? Or is the musical part more than a mere accident to the comedy? It's true that Ride the Wild Surf seemed purposeful in its aim for depth and psychological realism...but, on the other hand, there were decidedly fewer beach PARTIES taking up the screen, which had inevitable consequences.

So the comedy was missing, but I nevertheless enjoyed that movie a whole lot. Not least because there was no singing. But also because of the spectacular big wave surfing. I couldn't believe it, it was all done on longboards. I also liked the fact that the teenagers interacted with each other like real people, and not the 12-year-old types we usually get in the Funicello-Avalon classics.

Funny Cuz It's True

A forgot to share this story my brother told me a while ago about these two teenage girls who were in line in front of him at Subway. They were of course gossiping a mile a minute about things that branded them a stereotype - prom, boys, clothes, etc. - and just when you thought it couldn't get more unreal...

"Oh my god, I'm feeling so fat today. I can't eat the 6-inch sub. Do you think I could ask for a 3-inch sub?"

HAHAHAHAHA!! You can't make this stuff up. (I was reminded of it just now because I saw a Subway commercial, and I felt I had to document it before I forget.)

The Last Kiss

Depressing movie about getting older and more angry, depressing new year as I get older and more angry. It's not even a matter of not being young anymore; from here on out it's just a race to the grave. I hate the thought of dying. Was it Freud who said that no one truly believes in his own death?

'There's an old joke - um... two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of 'em says, "Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know; and such small portions." Well, that's essentially how I feel about life - full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it's all over much too quickly.'

Yeah okay, that was Annie Hall, not the Last Kiss. That's because the Last Kiss didn't have anything half as good. It was, however, about a thousand times better than Garden State.