the pod bay door

Last night I attended a party at a colleague’s house, and had a great time. The gang spilled out onto Whyte Avenue at midnight, with some of us ending up at The Commercial Hotel (blues bar), where I watched a blues band from Chicago mop up the floor with some great tunes. The lead guitarist was amazing, getting tones from his Stratocaster of which I can only dream. I made it into bed at 2:00 am, and couldn’t really get moving until 1:00 pm this afternoon – no hangover, mind you, it’s called “getting old(er)”.

I saw Star Trek Nemesis this afternoon, and agree with a number of critics who are calling it the best Trek film since The Wrath of Khan. The film features great performances from Patrick Stewart, Brent Spiner and the newcomer, Tom Hardy. The film is dark and brooding, and a lot of fun. I suspended my disbelief and had a good time.

Recently I learned that the ATF, the US Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, discovered my web site, and through a contact, asked me to remove certain references from it. Out of respect for this person, I made the necessary (very minor) changes. No, the integrity of my site is fine, and there was nothing bad, illegal, suspicious, etc., of note. At issue was a reference to someone I know who works for them, and they asked if I would remove the reference for this person’s protection. I did so, despite the fact that I live outside of their jurisdiction (duh). End of story.

Another website of fascination: soulbath.

I am finished my Christmas shopping, which wasn’t much to begin with, a handful of gifts for children, mostly. What’s left are my Christmas cards, which I make from cardstock and a chosen photo. The cards are ready to be personalized, what’s left to add is my annual letter. This year it will be shorter than usual, because I have this blog now.

There has been much talk in the news about taking religion and Christ out of Christmas, as in past years. To me, it’s tiresome. “We” are so worried in this era about offending anyone or being politically incorrect. Enough, already: Christmas is a Christian celebration and tradition. I’ll say “Merry Christmas”, and if that offends you, my apologies. So far, no one has ever been angry with me or corrected me for saying so. There’s even a commercial out in which they sing, “On the first day of giving, my true love gave to me…” Ridiculous and offensive from the get go.

Well, here’s a switch: I saw three movies yesterday (five in total all weekend), and one of them hasn’t been released anywhere in North America yet, including LA and NY, where it opens on Dec 27. John Cusack is one of my favorite actors (the other is Robert Duvall). Cusack has made smart choices in his career (exceptions include Con Air, but everyone needs a payday, right?), the results being a set of films that are mostly interesting, challenging and rewarding to the viewer. Plus, we share the same birthday, June 28.

Max is his latest film, a movie already being protested by the Jewish Defense League. The movie takes place in 1918 Munich, just as Germany begins to recover from having lost WWI. Ostensibly, the picture is about Max Rothman (Cusack), having returned from fighting less his right arm, but of a wealthy family and the owner of an avant garde art gallery. Having lost his arm, he has also lost his ability to paint. He has a beautiful wife and mistress, children, and the best living conditions. One day he meets a corporal in the German army, who has come in hopes of showing Rothman his artwork. When asked his name, he replies, “Hitler…Adolph Hitler.” It is a numbing scene just for hearing those words.

The film explores the relationship between Hitler and Rothman, suggesting that the cultural and political milieu of Munich contributed to his decision to move his abilities and talents from art to politics, or perhaps to meld the two. The JDL is objecting to the movie on the grounds that it humanizes Hitler. I believe it does, but does it without prejudice and with no favours. We see how Hitler began his orating, and how he struggled with his burgeoning hatred of Jews and his grudging respect for Rothman, not only because of his art gallery, but because Rothman continually challenged him to improve his art.

Noah Taylor, robbed of an Oscar nomination for the movie Shine, plays Hitler convincingly. Small, wirey, and often filthy and poorly dressed, he is the opposite of Rothman in every way, yet they are attracted to each other intellectually. The scenes of Hitler learning to become on orator are chilling. Cusack, meanwhile, gives his best performance in years. Recommended.

Later that evening…
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I saw Solaris on Saturday, and the film moved me considerably. It’s a remake of the 1972 film of the same name, based on the book by Stanislaw Lem, which I’ve not read. The film is about a psychiatrist who is summoned to a space station orbiting the planet Solaris, on which strange events have taken place – each member of the crew has a “visitor”, someone from their past.

The film begins as a straightforward narrative, but then moves away from a linear story line. Despite the sf setting, it feels more like a love story, and it moves at the same pace as 2001: A Space Odyssey, my all-time favorite movie. Fifteen minutes into the film I was smiling, feeling the heavy influence of that film on director Stephen Soderbergh (which he has also acknowledged). Like 2001, it does not answer any questions, leaving the viewer wondering what just happened. For me, the film’s feel was very much 2001, and I loved it for that reason. The music, feel, (even a line uttered by Natasha McElhone taken right from 2001), the pace, all evoked Kubrick’s masterpiece for me. The non-obvious ending is puzzling and frustrating, but the film is worth the effort. There are no fast-moving spaceships, no aliens per se, no phasers. Expect the unexpected.

I had an otherwise quiet weekend. I attended a apartment warming party on Saturday night at my friend Elan’s place, and it was nice – I knew no one there, yet found her friends to be warm, delightful and interesting. I also hung out after work on Friday at the Power Plant with friends, and I enjoyed that a lot.

There are some beautiful and amazing women in this town…

In one of the few negative reviews of Bowling for Columbine, Michael Moore’s brilliant and disturbing new documentary on American gun culture, Desson Howe of the Washington Post writes: “A lot of this is amusing and somehow telling. But what does it all add up to?” I’m not sure Moore knows the answer himself, but I don’t see that as a reason to slag this movie. After the Columbine massacre in 1999, Moore went to Littleton CO to learn more about life there and to meet some of the surviving students. Along the way, he introduces us to a number of individuals, displays statistics, and shares graphic images, some at times incredibly disturbing. For me, this is where the power of the film lies.

In the most startling and unnerving sequence, Moore splits the screen into a quad, and in each section plays video from one of four surveillance cameras at Columbine High. Sitting in a packed theatre, no one could move in their seats. I could barely breathe. Thinking about it now, I’m at a loss for words to describe how I felt.
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I saw The Ring last night, and was generally disappointed. The film stars Naomi Watts (from Mulholland Drive) as a reporter for the Seattle Times-Intelligence, whose 16-year old niece passes away from heart failure. Watts’ sister, her niece’s mother, cannot find any record of a 16-year old girl dying this way, and asks Watts to investigate. She learns that her niece had watched a videotape with three other teenagers at a cabin, and soon discovers that all four of them died at the same hour on the same night. The word is, you watch the tape, you have seven days to live.

The film is marketed as a psychological thriller, and it works in parts, but not in others. I confess that I went to the film hoping to be scared sh*tless, and it didn’t happen, not even close. Dozens of giggling teenagers in the theatre, however, were scared as such. I kept waiting for the movie to kick into second gear, with heightened tension, keeping you on the edge of your seat, but this never happens. Watts gets her ex-husband involved, after she watches the tape. He also watches it (of course), and comes to believe in her fear. They begin tracking down the origin of the tape, which leads them to … never mind!
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