"Cate Blanchett scares me."

"She is always so intense. She's like a librarian who just stares at people!"

My friends Kelli and Megan during the Robin Hood trailer. I've heard people say a lot of things about Cate, but this was a first for me.



UPDATE: From Kelli in response to this post: "She doesn't even need to make a face... she just has this look like... grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ...like when I have "b*%ch" written on my forehead... just don't mess with her. Scary."

Dirrty Xtina's Back, B Dusts Her Grammys and Miley's a Bird?

Once again, I'm in the mood to talk about music videos. Here are my takes on three recent releases from three of the biggest names in pop music today. I've been toying with the idea of writing about music videos more regularly--both current and classic ones. Before I dig into that, however, I know I need to talk about some of the biggies released earlier this year (namely both Rihanna videos and 'Telephone'). We'll see where that leads, but, for now, enjoy these write ups.

Christina Aguilera 'Not Myself Tonight' # # # # #
Before I start talking about the video, I have to get something off my chest. There's a lot of talk going around the interweb about Christina trying to imitate Lady GaGa after her immense success in the years Christina's been away. Mostly it's coming from fickle gays who have moved on to the "hot new thing" and labeled their once-beloved pop stars "has-beens," but the idea is still disconcerting. The button-pushing and outrageousness of Lady GaGa is nothing new; she's simply picking up the reins from Christina and Britney in their hey-day, who were, themselves, taking a cue from Madonna. In other words, Christina doesn't need to imitate GaGa. Have people forgotten those assless chaps from the 'Dirrty' video?! Or the striking iconography from Christina's early videos? If anything, GaGa has taken from Christina and used it in her own way for music videos such as 'Poker Face' and 'Paparazzi.' For Christina's 'Not Myself Tonight' video, she has been accused of ripping off GaGa's 'Bad Romance,' but, in all actuality, it's really an update of Madonna's 'Express Yourself.' An extremely desperate one, but an update nonetheless. Christina has always known how to sell her sexuality. While Britney was always the naughty, "who me?" innocent, Christina was more confident in her sexuality with a certain rawness that made her a refreshing alternative to virgin pop stars like Mandy and Jessica. By the time 'Dirrty' came around, assless chaps and all, we were completely non-fazed by how in-your-face the song and video were because of Christina's sexual persona. 'Not Myself Tonight' incorporates every sexual "deviancy" you could possibly think of--bondage, S&M, lesbianism, orgies--but none of it feels like anything more than hollow gestures. Christina has never needed all of this to come across as sexy and nearly three minutes of it is overkill. When Britney is at home watching the video and thinking to herself, "Wow, even I wouldn't do this disgusting shit in my video," you know you have a problem. She's so busy exploring just how far she can push the envelope that the video becomes nothing more than a collage of Christina in dominatrix gear. If, by paying homage to 'Express Yourself,' she was attempting some sort of commentary on how every "new" aggressive female in pop music is really paying tribute to someone before them, all of that was lost the minute she appeared on-screen with an blinged-out S&M gag in her mouth.

Beyoncé 'Why Don't You Love Me' # # # # #
B is back with yet another single from her I Am...Sasha Fierce album and ready to set the world afire with her latest video creation. The clip is not as revelatory as 'Single Ladies' or 'Ring the Alarm' (hell, it's not even 'Sweet Dreams') but it definitely has its moments. The general gist of the video is that Beyoncé plays a perfect 1950's housewife who wonders why, even though she's the perfect woman, her man doesn't love her. That's really about it as the five minute clip consists mainly of B posing while doing various household tasks such as the laundry or the dishes. What saves this video from damnation, however, is its commitment to the era it is portraying. Not only are the costumes and sets representative of the 1950's, but the video also adds small touches that enhance the experience. The opening credits sound exactly like a 50's sitcom intro; at some point, I expected the announcer to say that the video was sponsored by Colgate. I also loved the graininess of the film stock and how it contributed to giving the video the appearance of amateur video from the time. 'Why Don't You Love Me' isn't a masterpiece, but it will definitely tide us over until whenever B decides to release a new album.

Miley Cyrus 'Can't Be Tamed' # # # # #
Miley has been spending a lot of her time recently defending the sexy new image she's been projecting with 'Can't Be Tamed.' Parents are outraged that their wholesome Miley is wearing "provocative" outfits and singing lines like, "I go through guys like money flyin' out their hands." In all honesty, though, who didn't see this coming? Ever since that controversial Annie Leibovitz photo which dared to show her's naked back (the scandal!), Miley has taken the doe-eyed innocent approach to portraying her sexuality: she'd do something scandalous, the public would be outraged, she'd apologize and claim she was misunderstood and the whole thing would start over again. With 'Can't Be Tamed,' however, she's letting everything out in the open for the first time and isn't apologizing for it. The video opens up with Miley, a "rare bird in captivity for the first time," trapped in a birdcage for all to see and comment on. It may not be particularly subtle commentary on her position in today's pop culture, but it's something that needs to be said, particularly since the rest of the video is about her breaking free from these past constraints. The rest of the video isn't particularly groundbreaking, however Miley is definitely working on her burgeoning star mojo. I truly believe that all you need for a great music video is some kind of a hook--whether it's a particular set, dance, costume or hairstyle--and use it to the benefit of both your star persona and the song. I believe that Miley's bird costume is just strange enough yet entirely memorable and iconic to become her ticket to legitimate crossover fame. If she works this right, it could become her Catholic schoolgirl uniform or her red leather jumpsuit á la Britney.

Happy Mother's Day From the Spice Girls

I Want to Take a Ride on Nicky Hoult's Bike

...and by bike, yes, I do mean penis.

More images from this cute photo shoot can be found here. Many thanks to Monsieur Cinema for linking them to me after a not-so-good Facebook moment. Randomly, I found my old high school crush's profile and started looking through it. I was hoping he had gotten fat and ugly in the past four years but no such luck. In fact, if anything, he has become even more adorable in that time. So, of course, I had to go through every picture on his profile. Fuck my life. Has this happened to anyone else? Please let me know I'm not the only pathetic person out there.

People Who Can Suck It: Terrence Malick

Who Needs to Suck It: Terrence Malick, legendary reclusive filmmaker who, over the span of a 40 year career, has managed to release four films (with a fifth one on its way soon) all to massive critical acclaim and adoration.

Why He Needs to Suck It: Because the three films of his I have seen have been insufferably boring. I know this won't exactly make me any friends among my cinema-savvy readers, but I have to get this off my chest. I'm all for the idea that not all films (and filmmakers) are for everyone. There are no such things as "indisputable classics" or directors who can do no wrong. If people tell you this and make you feel like a moron who "just doesn't get it" for not liking a certain film, tell those pretentious assholes to suck your dick. Movies, like any art, are subjective and we all have our own tastes and preferences. So, I respect everyone who is of the opinion that Malick is a god. In return, please respect my opinion by not filling my comment boxes with responses like, "OMG WHY DON'T YOU LIKE TERRENCE MALICK?!?! HE IS AMAZINGGGGGGG. YOU OBVIOUSLY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT MOVIES." I get why everyone likes him, but he does absolutely nothing for me. His cinematography is often gorgeous to look at, usually resembling something closer to a collection of paintings rather than a film. I find his films use this pretty exterior as a cover for a hollow interior. I realize that films can work without a visible "plot" but these films usually have a little something extra going for it--whether it's great performing or just a general effervescent spirit that runs through. Malick's films, for me anyways, are simply dull. It's one picture postcard after another with a couple characters speaking innocuous dialogue to shape some vague sense of coherency and story. Yes, his films are nice to look at, but pretty pictures alone don't make for a great film.

10 Best Actresses I'm Excited For, 10 Not So Much

With Nick Davis winding up his immaculate Best Actress Project with a profile of a Best Actress nominee every day for the past week and a half or so, I've become re-immersed in my own progress with the category. After watching Ship of Fools a couple of days ago (and I was fighting the whole way not to turn that piece of crap off), I am now down to 80 nominees left to see. Not too shabby, me thinks. Of course, there are a few films which are either obscure as hell in America (Marriage- Italian Style, The Constant Nymph), not available in any format besides the film (The Barker, The Trespasser) or outright banned because of copyright issues (The Blue Veil), but, for the most part, a lot of the remaining ladies shouldn't be too difficult to find. So, in order to commence this re-immersion, here are ten ladies I'm eagerly anticipating...

Diahann Carroll, Claudine I'm usually fascinated by stories about African American families struggling to overcome racism and a vicious cycle of poverty. Bonus points: Nick Davis is ecstatic about Carroll's work here.
Stockard Channing, Six Degrees of Separation I always enjoy Stockard Channing. Seriously one of the most underrated actresses around.
Joan Crawford, Sudden Fear Joan's last nomination. Apparently Oscar saved the best for last. I'm optimistic, but it will be hard to top Possessed.
Jessica Lange, Frances Lange plays a mad actress from the 1940's in a highly emotional and excessive way. Sign me up, sign me up!
Carrie Snodgress, Diary of a Mad Housewife I love a good film about a despondent, lonely housewife. Plus, the film was directed by Frank Perry (aka the man who brought us Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest).
Kim Stanley, Séance on a Wet Afternoon Director Bryan Forbes has been 2 for 2 with me in terms of Best Actress nominees he has directed (Caron in The L-Shaped Room, Edith Evans in The Whisperers). Can Stanley make it 3?
Meryl Streep, Ironweed I've heard this is one of Streep's more underrated efforts. Let's see if she can match the quiet hype.
Gloria Swanson, Sadie Thompson Completely fascinated by the 1932 version with Joan Crawford (one of her best performances ever). Interested in what Swanson will be able to do in this silent version.
Liv Ullmann, Face to Face According to many who have been fortunate enough to see it, this is Ullmann's best work. And that's truly saying something about the woman who gave us Persona, Cries and Whispers and Autumn Sonata. Criterion, release this shit soon, please.
Sigourney Weaver, Aliens LOVED her kick-ass Ripley in Alien. Apparently, she's even better here.

...and, on the flip side, here are ten ladies I'm gonna have to be tied down Clockwork Orange-style in order to get through:

Geneviève Bujold, Anne of the Thousand Days A studio-made historical epic from the mid-60's designed purely for Oscar consideration. Shoot me now.
Ava Gardner, Mogambo I've never been particularly fond of Gardner. Combined with Grace Kelly and post-Lombard Clark Gable in a John Ford film sounds like pure torture.
Jennifer Jones, Love Letters The epitome of an actress who slept her way to the top. All of her other nominations have been close to insufferable.
Sarah Miles, Ryan's Daughter A 3.5 hour David Lean epic that's not even as good as the middling The Bridge on the River Kwai. Oscar truly is a sadistic bastard sometimes.
Michelle Pfeiffer, Love Field Not a huge Pfeiffer fan and this sounds like Movie of the Week stuff to me.
Debbie Reynolds, The Unsinkable Molly Brown I normally adore Debbie Reynolds, but I've heard nothing but bad things about this one.
Janet Suzman, Nicholas and Alexandra See Bujold above.
Gene Tierney, Leave Her to Heaven I simply don't get the big deal about her. One man's acting goddess truly is another's vacant dummy.
Kathleen Turner, Peggy Sue Got Married I saw the first twenty minutes a few years ago and was hardly impressed. It's going to take a lot to get me to try this one again.
Loretta Young, Come to the Stable One of the worst Best Actress winners ever is back as a kind and gracious nun. Just...no.

"Now That I'm Newly Single, I Know Nothing About Dating"

"I don't have game. I just tell a guy, 'If you take me out to dinner, I'll totally fuck you.' I'm a sure thing, I'm a sure thing. ABC--always be closing. I don't have time for the dance. You know what I mean? Half way through the salad, I'm like, 'Now? Put it in?'"

Look at Me, Ma. I'm a College Graduate!

Anyone remember this jam? I literally haven't heard it in 10 years.

In other news, I am old.

Also, I'm really hoping that my commencement goes something like this today.

I think we all know which character I want to be.

My Senior Thesis: Saratoga Trunk

Next up after my takes on Ordinary People and Spice World comes Saratoga Trunk, a little known 1940's epic starring Ingrid Bergman and Gary Cooper. This film has haunted my psyche for years after seeing it initially and a subsequent viewing a few months ago only deepened my love for this gloriously insane disaster. Now, if only more people could see it; currently, it's only available on a hard to find VHS copy and TCM once in a blue moon. What a goddamn shame.

When I first saw the little-seen 1946 drama Saratoga Trunk, a Sam Wood-directed epic based on a novel by notorious author Edna Ferber and starring Ingrid Bergman and Gary Cooper, some years ago, I was not quite sure what to make of it. Even as a neophyte film watcher, I recognized that the film was not perfect: the leads, especially Bergman, were horribly miscast, the story bounced around between various plot points and situations without much cohesion, the whole mood of the film is just, for lack of a better word, weird. For whatever reason, however, I was enthralled by Saratoga Trunk. Not in the way one may be by a “camp” film or one that is “so bad it’s good” like Mommie Dearest, but, rather, in the almost indescribable fashion one watches a car wreck with curious interest long after they know they should look away. For years after my initial screening of Saratoga Trunk, long after memories of other more technically proficient films had faded away from my memory, it persisted as one of the most oddly memorable films I had ever seen. When I decided to rescreen it recently, I hoped that my fondness towards the movie would not falter as sometimes happens with movies you build up in your mind. Only, you realize far too late, they weren’t worth all the affection you heaped upon them the first time around. Thankfully, that did not occur, and, if anything, a second viewing helped me verbalize what exactly makes this inconsistent, deeply flawed film so immensely fascinating.


From the onset of the film, it becomes heavily apparent that Saratoga Trunk is Jack Warner’s attempt to cash in on and duplicate the success of Gone With the Wind seven years earlier. With a story about a determined woman, with the help of a strapping rogue that loves her, breaking social taboos and norms simply to get ahead alive and get petty revenge on those who had done her and her family wrong in the past, Warner obviously realized the potential for another mega hit. Adding on Ingrid Bergman and Gary Cooper, quite possibly the most sought after stars in Hollywood by that point, What is so surprising about this is not the fact that Saratoga Trunk made so much money (although nowhere near Gone With the Wind’s record profits), but, rather, the fact that Bergman and Cooper were cast in the first place given their miscasting. Cooper is not a terrible match for the rugged he-man lead—he played them all the time in his long career. Rather, the role depends on an actor like Clark Gable who could be completely charming but also a jerk at the same time. Cooper has a hard time balancing the two contradictory aspects of the character; he has charm to spare, but you never quite dislike him as much as you are probably supposed to. Bergman, on the other hand, is all wrong for the Scarlett O’Hara clone she plays. Always at her best in films like Notorious and The Bells of St. Mary’s which allowed her to emote with her expressive face, Bergman is at an obvious disadvantage in Saratoga Trunk where most of the movie is spent with her delivering chunks of dialogue in either a haughty, impatient manner or a coquettish fashion.

But, all of this miscasting aside, Bergman and Cooper are actually not bad in the film. Although it hardly ranks with each of their respective performances, both actors manage to be relatively engaging throughout the entire runtime of Saratoga Trunk, managing to both stay grounded and keep up with the film’s increasing strangeness. The situation is very similar to Cate Blanchett’s performance in Notes on a Scandal. The brainy, clinical actress is hardly the first person you would think of to play the dull, almost vacant school teacher, yet she is completely fascinating and entertaining in the moment, perfectly over-the-top during the film’s climactic showdown between herself and Dame Judi Dench.

The fact that Saratoga Trunk was made during the height of the Production Code is quite surprising given the twisted nature of the film. With its wacky, downright strange supporting characters and subplots involving sex, manipulation, blackmail and con artistry, Saratoga Trunk is in sharp contrast with the traditionalism of the typical Ferber American epic. A film that revolves around Ingrid Bergman, flanked by a dwarf and British character actress Flora Robson in blackface as her mulatto servant, traveling from France to her now deceased mother’s home in New Orleans to (a) get revenge on the family that ruined her mother’s life and (b) land a rich husband using every cheap, shameless tactic in the book does not sound like the typical output from the woman who wrote Show Boat and Giant. The relationship between Bergman and Cooper in the film is also interesting because it takes the sexual dynamic between Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler that made Gone With the Wind so popular and twists it to another level. If you thought Scarlett and Rhett were morally dubious, Bergman and Cooper’s characters make them seem like church folk. At first, Bergman makes it blatantly clear that she is only with Cooper for his money and he accepts this. They eventually break up once Cooper realizes just how scarily hell-bent she is on her mission for revenge. Once that mission is complete, however, Cooper becomes her partner in crime in trying to get her hitched to a rich mama’s boy. He makes up lies for her, moves into the next hotel room so they can work together on a plan and then sits back and watches her squirm when confronted by people who doubt her story. To make things even more complicated, there are moments where the two characters simply look at each other and pure animalistic lust passes between them. Some of these looks are so blatantly lusty, it is hard to believe they passed the censors.

Another fascinating aspect of Saratoga Trunk is that it manages to transcend the “camp” label applied to similar-sounding movies. Camp films tend to go overboard in certain respects, whether it is in overacting, over directing or over stylizing with the camera. They have big “moments” where, either through ineptitude or sheer carelessness, the viewer realizes that the film has become something entirely different from what the creative team envisioned. The rape scene in Myra Breckinridge would be one such moment, or the infamous wire hanger scene in Mommie Dearest. A legitimate “camp” film is normally punctuated with moments like these to liven up dull bits in between. Saratoga Trunk has no such moments. The film has campy aspects, certainly, but nothing artistically or stylistically is pushed in that direction. Each individual scene feels carefully crafted, and no one moment takes you completely out of the film. The weird vibe that permeates Saratoga Trunk is only noticeable when considering the film as a whole. In each individual scene, nothing the dwarf or Bergman’s servant says or does is incredibly “out there,” yet, when you think of them in context of the entire film, they stick out like a sore thumb, almost to the point of laughter.

Saratoga Trunk belongs in a class of films I like to call “beautiful disasters.” An example of a film that belongs in this specialized group would be the recent The Box, a nonsense thriller that falls short of whatever insane vision director Richard Kelley had in his head but fails spectacularly. Or, Francois Truffaut’s Hitchcockian misfire Mississippi Mermaid which makes up for a hackneyed story with its stars, the most beautiful couple in the history of film, Catherine Deneuve and Jean-Paul Belmondo. They may be lacking in some department, but they are far more fascinating to ponder for hours on end than a film like Frost/Nixon which may be technically proficient but offers nothing of interest once the runtime ends. I do not know about most people, but, good or bad, I would rather have more films like Saratoga Trunk that leave me guessing as to why they are so fascinating--even during moments when they shouldn’t be.

This May or May Not Be My Computer Background Right Now. Oh, and This is Probably NSFW.

The Other Franco Boy

For no reason in particular, over the past week or two I've fallen in love with Dave Franco, younger brother of James. These pretty pictures certainly helped, but I think it's because I just found that he played Rose's dorky boyfriend on my beloved TV show Privileged (which I still miss, by the way) from a couple years ago. He was so adorable on that show. And I recently read that he's going to be in The Life and Death of Charlie St. Cloud, Zac Efron's first "serious" movie out later this year. First Privileged and now this? What a fantastic way to get on my good side, Dave!

Last night, I decided to check out those Funny or Die clips that have probably been around for a year of James, with the help of Dave, teaching viewers how to act. This one is my favorite, although all of them are equally hilarious:

Acting with James Franco Episode 2: "Green Screen" from James Franco

My Senior Thesis: Spice World

My collection of senior thesis writings continue today with Spice World. After rediscovering this film in high school (I had seen it millions of times as a kiddie), I have always wanted to defend it. Yes, Spice World is hardly a "great" movie, but there are some smart things going on. This is by far the silliest essay of the bunch, however this needed to be said.

Name this movie: a British musical group, playing themselves soon after achieving quick, meteoric success in the UK and US, is documented right before a very important live performance. While traveling in and around London, the group has to deal with inane members of the press, crazed fans, strict managers and wacky, drawn-out comedic situations to highlight each group member’s personality and sense of humor. There is a crisis of faith and a moment when it looks like they will not make it to their live performance. However, they pull it together at the last minute and make it to the show, precisely showing us in their performance what made everyone fall in love with them in the first place.

If you guessed Richard Lester’s A Hard Day’s Night, then, obviously, you would be right. But if you guessed Spice World, the oft-reviled film starring late 90’s pop phenomenon the Spice Girls, you would also be correct. Fascinating, isn’t it? I find it interesting that these films are so similar, yet A Hard Day’s Night is often touted as one of the greatest rock ‘n roll films ever made while Spice World has become something of a pop culture joke after the critical bashing it took when it was released in late 1997/early 1998. So why exactly is Spice World one of the most hated films ever made while A Hard Day’s Night continues to enjoy popularity 45 years later? I have a couple of theories: One, the film’s study of 90’s British girl group pop music is much narrower than Night’s 60’s British rock and, consequently, less approachable to viewers who do not like that type of music. Two, the predominantly middle-aged white male film critic was never going to appreciate a film that caters principally to both 10-year-olds and gay men with its camp aesthetics and (however misguided they may be) ideas about “Girl Power.” Three, audiences increasingly raised on and in love with meat-headed action blockbusters that treat silly plots and wayward dramatics like they were depicting the Holocaust have no idea how to react to a film like Spice World, which continuously pokes fun at itself and its own ridiculousness without thinking twice about it. I am not here to argue that Spice World is some sort of lost masterpiece worthy of study in film schools around the country; rather, the film deserves a reappraisal now that 10-plus years has passed since its release.


One of the biggest complaints about the film is the criticism that the Girls are terrible actresses and do not give good performances in the film. I will admit that the Girls are not actresses in the traditional sense and certainly do not approach the film in the manner Meryl Streep or Philip Seymour Hoffman would, but to simply dismiss them is too easy. Outside of the film, the Girls were giving performances every single time they had to step in front of the camera, every time they had to give an interview, every time they met an adoring fan. Their “Spice” identity certainly stemmed from their own personalities, but they had to embellish it for the public to the brink of insanity. This 24-hour commitment to character, simply transferred on-screen for Spice World, may not be “acting,” but it becomes almost a tribute to “star persona” performances from the Studio Era . In the film, the Girls completely own this style of “acting” and repeatedly bring it to our attention, whether to enhance or poke fun at their identities. The Spice Bus, their main mode of transportation, is split up into five sections, each styled to reflect the Girls’ identity (for example, Posh has a lighted runway while Sporty has an exercycle). They often retreat within these identities without even thinking about it, like it has been so ingrained in their heads it just comes naturally now. After hearing a snippet of a radio interview that tries to understand the “real” them, the Girls have a conversation about their identities, which prompts Sporty to ask rhetorically, “Why do we feel we have to play into stereotypes…all the time?” The moment becomes almost revelatory for them, as they are forced to consider just how much of their “Spice” identity has become blurred with their true self. A photoshoot follows, which grants them the perfect opportunity to, borrowing a phrase from Jean-Luc Godard, “return to zero” and try to find themselves again. A montage follows where the Girls dress up as each other and parody their defining characteristics (for example, Ginger, portraying Sporty, punches the air shouting, “Ha! I’m so Sporty!”). While all in good fun, this moment highlights two important ideas about the role of identity in the film. First of all, these roles are just that and not meant to be mistaken for their “true selves.” Secondly, the roles are perfectly cast as is, with these parodies proving that, for instance, Emma does not and will never make a good Scary Spice.

This self-awareness is what truly separates Spice World and A Hard Day’s Night, serving as a reminder of what separates 1960’s pop culture from the late 90’s. When The Beatles became the largest band in the world, pop culture as we know it today was just beginning to emerge. It would have been impossible for The Beatles to joke about pop personas in the same way the Spice Girls do simply because people had not developed these expectations. By the time Spice World had come around, the public had been exposed to pop culture and imitations of A Hard Day’s Night for decades. This allowed Spice World to poke fun at the Girls’ personas without worrying that the audience would not understand. If anything, the boy band craze that followed soon after the Spice Girls proved that pop acts could be further reduced to a mere formula, with singers chosen mostly for how well they fit into a mold (such as the “bad boy”) rather than molding their persona from their own identity as the Spice Girls did.

Spice World, for the most part, is a silly film made for the sole purpose of cashing in on the Spice phenomenon. There are moments, however, when real and interesting issues are brought up and dealt with in the film’s unique, offbeat way. A Hard Day’s Night may have the respect and critical adoration, but Spice World, because of its quirky humor and adoration of nonsense plots and dialogue will forever have a small yet eternally devoted legion of fans ready to defend it to the death. Not bad for one of the worst movies ever made.

Bieber Mania

In case you've been living under a rock (Or haven't signed onto Twitter in three months. Or have an, you know, actual life), Justin Bieber is taking over the world. Over the past eight months, the floppy-haired Canadian teen has gone from YouTube sensation to overnight tween mega idol. His meteoric success has come quickly. I remember checking out tween magazines such as Bop and Tiger Beat back in October or so and saw the usual Miley and Jonas cover stories. One month later, every damn magazine had this Bieber kid's face plastered dead center on the cover. I had no idea who or what he was, but as soon as I found about his fans, I knew he wasn't going away anytime soon. My God, those 12 year old girls who are obsessed with him are quite literally INSANE. Remember, I'm a child of the late 90s/early 2000s. I lived through Backstreet Mania and NSYNC Mania during the TRL Era. Those bitches were crazy, crying every time they appeared on TV, camping overnight for their new CD, getting into petty arguments over which group was better (very similar to the Team Edward/Jacob debate raging today). Those girls were amateurs next to these Bieber Heads. With Twitter becoming the new Mecca of social networking, the site's "trending topics" have come a big clue into what every day people are talking about on a given day. His fans are every bit as crazy as those in the BSB/NSYNC days, but they take it to a new extreme with Twitter. Every single day, Bieber's name is on that list of popular topics. He doesn't even have to do anything special; if his biggest plan for the day is to take a shit, these fans would still be talking about him.

I realize this all probably makes me sound like a hater, but here's the truth: I actually like Justin Bieber. Given my expressed admiration for many a tween Disney star, this probably comes as no surprise, but I think he's a cool cat. First of all, unlike many of the Disney/Nickelodeon manufactured pop stars, he can actually sing. Yes, he sings teen pop and, yes, it's inherently cheesy. But it's excellent teen pop, very reminiscent of the days when Britney and Christina ruled the airwaves. Songs such as 'Somebody to Love,' 'Baby' and especially 'One Time' (I'm eagerly anticipating an acoustic cover of this song from either Kris Allen, Darin or Nadine Coyle at some point) even transcend this slightly negative label and become true pop gems. Say what you want about him (and his lesbianic haircut), but this kid has the stuff to be a "legitimate" artist someday. It will be interesting, however, to see if his young fan base will allow him to grow up and mature with his music. I can totally see him going down the JT/Jesse McCartney path in a couple of years, but who knows if he'll stick around. Tween girls are a notoriously fickle group.

I leave you now with a couple Bieber videos. The first is his latest single 'Baby' (hopefully you can just ignore Ludacris' lazy rap). The second is the moment I truly fell for him: the SNL sketch from a week ago where Tina Fey, as a very Liz Lemon-y high school teacher, falls in love with Bieber. He's obviously not the most natural actor on the planet, but those songs were hilarious. "Hey girl, I wanna watch you do pilates. And skip the hard parts," spoken like those horrible interludes in any typical boy band ballad, makes me laugh every time. And, at one point, Tina Fey pushes Justin in a baby carriage. Yeah, enough said.

My Senior Thesis: Ordinary People

I don't know if you've noticed, but I have been absent here for the past couple of weeks. Okay, so I wasn't exactly "absent" so much as I haven't done any substantial posting. Well, don't fret because I am back and hopefully better than ever (Cue massive sighs of relief)! School got in the way, unfortunately, but one of the projects I was frantically working on was my senior thesis. Instead of doing a traditional research paper, I chose to do a collection of film reviews and essays. Some I used for this project were a couple of pieces I had already done on the blog before, but a majority were brand new. Now that everything's complete, I want to share them with you. This first piece is about 1980 Best Picture winner Ordinary People, one of my ten favorite movies of all time and a film that leaves me emotionally devastated for days after I watch it. I hope you enjoy and thanks for your patience while was gone!

Winning an Oscar, as stated numerous times before, can be both a blessing and a curse. Hearing your name on the night of ceremony is a thrilling sense of accomplishment, proof that even for a fleeting moment of time you have the enthusiastic support of your peers. But, later on, if you somehow end up beating an “obviously” “superior” nominee, whatever glory you may have achieved on Oscar Night gets flushed down the toilet faster than you can say, “How Green Was My Valley.” This is exactly what happened to the reputation of Robert Redford’s directorial debut Ordinary People, a then highly lauded look into how a typical middle-class family deals with the death of their oldest son. Over time, resentment has built against this film for one reason and one reason only: it beat Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull for the Best Picture Oscar in 1980. Every time a list is made of the worst Best Picture winners, Ordinary People is usually found based on this. Not to dispute Raging Bull’s status as a classic--far be it from me to question the film’s gorgeous black and white cinematography or Thelma Schoonmaker’s sharp editing--but Ordinary People is just as laudatory and original in its own, quieter way. The emotionally damaged son/cold and distant mother dynamic the film establishes is one very rarely, if ever, discussed in the movies. And the way Redford sets this up is in ways more uncomfortable than any of the wife-beating and bloody violence in Raging Bull.

A cold and distant father who cannot quite connect with his children is not an infrequent sight in the movies; they have probably around as long as the movies have. Mothers of this sort, however, are highly unusual. Whenever you have a “monster” mother, she is either an alcoholic/drug addict of some sort, physical or mentally abusive or, the be perfectly blunt, a whore. There is always some kind of behavior to “excuse” her lack of warmth and feeling toward her children. In Ordinary People, on the other hand, Beth, matriarch of the Jarrett clan, has no such crutches. She is a well bred, middle-class ice queen with the ability to mask her lack of emotions with a completely fake friendly demeanor. The fact that Beth is someone we have all probably run into our lives, most likely without even realizing it, makes her all the more fascinating and real than another bad mommy like Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest.


Even after confronting us with a character type never show in movies before, Redford does not stop there in highlighting the uncomfortable tension and lack of connection between Beth and her youngest son Conrad, the survivor of a tragic boat accident that killed his older brother. Subconsciously, Beth has always loved the older son more than Conrad, but it was never brought out in the open until this accident drastically changes their lives. Conrad, now receiving therapy after attempting suicide, has started to realize the toxic effect her distancing is having on their relationship. At one point, Conrad tries to start a conversation with his mother about his recent trigonometry test. Beth lets it slip that she was awful at trig and Conrad, seeing an opportunity to connect with his mother, excitedly asks her, “Oh, you took trig?” Then, as quickly as she brought it up, she shuts the conversation down by awkwardly asking herself, “Did I take trig?” and then closing the door of her bedroom in Conrad’s face. The moment is incredibly awkward and even stranger to read in written word, but it is the perfect example of what has become of Conrad and Beth’s relationship by this point. Beth was always closer with Bucky, her now deceased older son. Now that he is gone, Conrad has become the sole reminder of what she lost in the accident. Instead of embracing him closer, she continually pushes him away and shuts off any attempt at an emotional connection between the two of them. As shallow as this trig class may seem, this similarity between her and Conrad is too much for her to handle.

Robert Redford also reinforces this lack of connection between Beth and Conrad with more subtle moments. One such instance is a minor shot towards the beginning of the film which speaks volumes about the relationship troubles in the Jarrett household. Beth is setting the table for breakfast. In a very quick overhead shot, we see her set glasses of orange juice in both hers and her husband Cal’s spot at the table. Then, in a separate motion a couple seconds later, she sets Conrad’s glass in his spot. Even at this very early stage in the movie, it becomes clear that Beth, however subconsciously, sees Conrad as disconnected from herself and the family. There is another scene later on in the movie where Beth, in an uncharacteristically warm and nurturing gesture, sees Conrad sitting outside by himself and decides to have a conversation with him. When she first steps outside and approaches him, Beth and Conrad are shown in completely separate frames to highlight their disconnectedness. As their conversation warms up to a civil debate about whether Conrad needs to wear a coat, they are slowly pushed into the frame together. Sadly, this moment is the closest Beth and Conrad come to having a true moment of emotional connectivity. Then, Conrad wants to talk about a random memory involving Bucky, and Beth completely shuts down. They both start talking over each other about completely different topics, at which the camera starts separating them in different shots again. Conrad eventually starts barking like a dog to get Beth’s attention. She is stunned by this and decides to exit the conversation before anything more happens. By this time, Beth and Conrad are in such different places emotionally, they cannot even occupy the same frame together. Doing that would represent some kind of false connectivity in their relationship.

But to think of Beth as a complete monster is both unfair and too easy. Sure, she is not a terribly warm person, nor is she completely upfront with her emotions, but that does not make her a horrible woman. Plenty of people have a hard time expressing themselves, just as there are plenty of people who are too expressive with their emotions. Where Beth’s problem lies is in the fact that she cannot see how her lack of warmth is affecting those around her, namely Conrad. When Cal confronts her towards the end of the movie, she appears aghast at Cal’s insinuation that she does not love Conrad. “Mothers don’t hate their sons!” she exclaims, completely missing the point of Cal’s outburst. Later on in the film, Conrad hugs Beth. She, instead of hugging back, sits completely stone-faced and dazed by the display of warmth. The moment exemplifies that she is in pain from losing the son she loved more, consequently blocking her from showing any affection towards Conrad. This does not make her a monster--rather, she is a victim of her own pain. Unlike Conrad, who has found some kind of outlet with his psychiatrist, Beth is trapped and will not be able to fully function again until she can deal with Bucky’s loss.

To continuously pit Ordinary People against a powerhouse of a film such as Raging Bull is unfair to both films. Both films have their own merits and work for completely different reasons. Whether or not it deserved the Oscar, Ordinary People provides an engaging and original viewpoint of mother/son dynamics within the confines of the traditional family melodrama. Ordinary People is not nearly as earth shattering as Raging Bull is in any given moment, but the film pushes boundaries in subtler, succinct ways that can be reflected upon much later.

Sam Rockwell Mackin' on a Dude

Daniel from Ugly Betty, no less. Let's just forget that this is completely out of context.

Word of Advice: If you have even the slightest attraction to Sam Rockwell, Lawn Dogs will be like porn for you.