The Rage Diaries

There is unrest in the forest, there is trouble in the trees

The New Republic posts a movie review that is so funny, I had to actually open another application to give myself time to calm down. Christopher Orr's spoiler-rich "Movie Review: The Happening" (June 13, 08) successfully replicates the experience of watching a bad movie solely for comedic value.

I have a weird, weird relationship with the M. Night Shyamalan oevre. I don't find his movies particularly spooky or twisty, in part because the twists are usually broadcast from miles away, and tha's insulting. It's as if he's saying, "Ha ha! I'm leaving clues but you won't guess until the moment I reveal all!" Wrong, jackass. I usually have the ending pegged in the first act, which leaves me the remaining two for heckling. But let's not diminish the entertainment value in that. Phil and I have an entire song about Lady in the Water, which we sing to "Angel of Music," a daft duet from the fatuous Phantom of the Opera. The lyrics usually begin with Who is that lady in waaaa-ter? Why is she dripping on me? and degenerate from there. It's great fun.

Clearly, the folks at Videogum also have a weird relationship with the filmmaker vis a vis his capacity for inadvertent entertainment. Check out their M. Night Shyamalan archive, and today's offering on the RiffTrax'd best of The Sixth Sense.

One movie I don't think I'll be seeing

The Women holds a permanent spot on my Top Ten Movies Of All Time list. I watch that sucker a few times a year and am always struck anew by something in it. I can recite entire chunks of dialogue or, more often, just confuse people by randomly holding up my hands and exclaiming, "I've had two years to grow claws, Mother! In Jungle Red!"

The casting is perfect, the direction is perfect, the attention to detail is perfect.

Well, I have just seen the trailer for the remake and ... oh, it is a crime. You know what? I don't care that this movie apparently functioned as the Employment Act for actresses over 20 in Hollywood. I care that the trailer suggests that this is a chick-flick caper instead of the coolly intelligent and elegantly incisive social comedy of the original. You do not get points for casting lots of the ladyfolks when you cast them in something that is dumber than the original. It insults both the actresses and the audience.

The Women is such a fantastic movie. Seeing this trailer makes me wonder what's next -- Goodfellas reimagined with Jonah Hill as Henry Hill?

Menchildren

A few months ago, David Denby wrote "A Fine Romance," (New Yorker, Jul 23, 07) in which he derided the recent spate of schlub-scores-hottie movies as deviating from one premise of good romantic comedies -- the fight between equals -- and posited that these movies are anti-woman, writing:

All the movies in this genre have been written and directed by men, and it's as if the filmmakers were saying, "Yes, young men are children now, and women bring home the bacon, but men bring home the soul."

The perilous new direction of the slacker-striver genre reduces the role of women to vehicles. Their only real function is to make the men grow up.

A few weeks ago, Mary Spicuzza wrote "Slacker Guys and Striver Girls" (SF Weekly, Nov 14, 07), in which she notes that unlike the movies, many go-getter women don't treat their boyfriends like fixer-upppers. She reported:

University of California at Santa Cruz literature professor Carla Freccero, whose research focus includes contemporary feminist theories and politics, suspects the slacker-striver films reflect some men's feelings that their manhood is being attacked by feminism. "I don't like that genre of comedy at all," she says.

Freccero says the genre consistently revolves around male-focused plots, and is yet another example of antifeminist backlash. In this case, there's a presumed "economy of scarcity of men" who have their lives together, meaning successful women had better be willing to settle for serious slacker dudes. "It's not about truth, it's a perception," she says.

(There's a Patton Oswalt routine that makes me snort every time I listen to it, about how those KFC bowls are really "failure piles in sadness bowls." Part of me wonders if the American slacker dudes who are currently drifting onto the pop-culture radar would order this. )

And two nights ago, I finally saw Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. Both movies reminded me a bit of the British series Manchild -- the protagonists may indulge in some indulgent, adolescent antics, but it's clear that they're paying a price for doing so, and in every case, the men must reckon with their own character and why they've gone for the immature option. If these guys grow up, it's not because some bitch of a woman wants them to, but because they want to. Viva the cultural differences across the pond!

This whole Britney thing reminds me ...

.. that I don't find her or her antics nearly so interesting as I do the Disney and Nickelodeon star-making machines. The process for finding the children who will star in the shows that will bring Nickelodeon $800 million a year just in advertising dollars is rigorous.

Read "Tween on the Screen" (NYT, Apr 8, 07) for an idea of what being a child actor is like (Dan Schneider, a former child actor who is now Nickelodeon's J.J. Abrams, Josh Schwartz and Dick Wolf all rolled into one, recalls being treated "as a living prop"), and what makes for a successful kid show.

Then surf over to Entertainment Weekly. There were two good articles in the Jul 20, 07, issue: "The Making of a Kid Star" and "Where Are These Tween Stars Now?" The underlying message in both seems to be that unless the kid's got a strong support system at home -- and the natural brains and maturity to understand that they're engaged in a professional marathon, not a sprint -- they're not likely to make an easy transition from the tightly-controlled tween factories at Disney and Nickelodeon.

Credit where credit is due

So here's the deal: Kevin Smith apparently ran a credits crawl -- after the legit credits -- listing the first 10,000 people in his MySpace crew. And then long-time entertainment reporter Nikki Finke called it "This could very well be the most insulting thing I've ever heard, a huge diss, to anyone who's ever legitimately earned a credit on a film." She also goes on to note that Clerks II is likely to fail.

So Smith responds. In the post, he notes that he's looking at about $40 million in profit off Clerks II, once DVD sales are factored in. He made the flick for 25% of the cost of Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, and it only fell a mil shy of that film's opening weekend. It's a nice little explanation of how niche films can make money.

But wait for round two.

She has gotten fixed on 1996

"So, Lisa," you're saying. "I am curious as to why you keep slipping into the thousand-yard stare and muttering, 'It's like 1996 all over again.'"

Well, I'll tell you: because it is impossible to read any arts coverage without getting a piece on how amazing it is that an Actual Hollywood Director uses the Internet. I know! In 2006, this is still a big deal? I love me some Kevin Smith, and I bow to the altar of his brilliance, but can we give the whole "He actually talks to the people who watch his movies! As though they were human, even!" feature a rest?

Exhibit A: "For Kevin Smith, View from the Convenience Store Is Still Askew," NYT, June 25, 06

Exhibit B: "What Makes Kevin Smith Click? " WaPo, July 14, 06

Exhibit C: "How Clerks Creator Kevin Smith Reinvented Movie Marketing," New York, July 26, 06

Seriously -- I have a hard time figuring out why the idea of an artistic creator interacting with a fan community is so newsworthy. I was similarly baffled by the coverage that flurried briefly after Rescue Me's Peter Tolan posted on TWoP and was surprised at the reception he got. (" 'Rescue Me' Writer Fans the Inflamed," LAT, Jun 26, 06; "TV Is Now Interactive, Minus Images, On the Web," NYT, July 8, 06) What was the story here -- that Tolan actually talked to fans, or that the fans didn't unquestioningly accept his explanation?

As I've noted before,  consumers are now interested in crafting more of their entertainment experience. Interacting with the source materials' creators is par for the course with that. I wonder how long before it's no longer newsworthy to note that writers and directors are cultivating -- and clashing with -- the communities of consumers their work's created.

The Best of Everything

I am not terribly sympathetic to the plight of people who take peon jobs in glamour industries, then whine about how unfair it all is. And I admire Anna Wintour, because I think she is talented and unafraid to wield her influence where she will. (More on her: "The Summer of Her Discontent," Sep 20, 99 and "The Charity Ball Game," May 9, 05, both New York magazine; "Defending Vogue's Evil Genius," Slate, Feb 10, 05)

So I have not read The Devil Wears Prada, and I don't really plan to. But I am thinking that maybe I will catch the movie. I have always loved it when Meryl Streep does comedy. More importantly, I would love to see a movie with any depiction of the generational clashes in attitude that are playing out among women in the workplace -- and any movie that raises the question "Is it really gender that's the issue here? Or simply age?"

The WSJ wrote about this last month ("Differences Are Emerging Among Women Employees," June 5, 06), noting:

[S]ome female bosses from Generation X (born between 1965 and 1980) are finding a clear generation gap with female employees from Generation Y (born after 1980). Likewise, some female bosses who are baby boomers (1946 to 1964) or from the World War II generation (born before 1945) often have trouble relating to women born at other times. These struggles can hamper mentoring and damage productivity.

[...]

For their part, many younger women feel that older female colleagues and bosses aren't helpful or relevant to them. Just 53% of women said they "learn from older co-workers," according to a survey released last week by Randstad USA, an employment-services firm. Only 23% of women under age 34 said older co-workers "energize me and bring new ideas to the table."

And today in Salon, Rebecca Traister writes:

Miranda mentors her apprentice. While on paper, Andy goes to Paris for the fashion shows only when senior assistant Emily gets mono and bows out, the film has Miranda actively select Andy to displace Emily because she sees potential in her junior charge. Worse-slash-better yet, she makes Andy break the news to Emily. "Do it now," she coos into her cellphone.

In high drama, having to metaphorically off your colleague may be a moral low point, but in life, it's often an unavoidable reality. Andy has not connived or schemed or stabbed her co-worker in the back; she just did her job and was rewarded for it. The assumptions about how women are naturally supposed to protect each other (encouragement, collaboration, yadda yadda yadda) mean that competing at work, and worse yet, winning, is demonized for girls. In fact, it's just how demons like Miranda are made.

But anyone, male or female, who aspires to professional power must learn how to break bad news, make tough evaluative decisions that affect other people's lives, and do these things humanely. The setup may cast Miranda as Sen. Palpatine, tempting young Annakin to turn to the Dark Side, but in life, she's just conditioning her protégée, forcing Andy to exercise her nascent leadership muscles.

-- "Sympathy for the She-Devil," June 30, 06

Reading this piece makes me think of one of my favorite movies from the 1950s, The Best of Everything. Based on the Rona Jaffe novel of the same name, the film's arc seems faintly similar to The Devil Wears Prada: advantaged girl Caroline goes to work in a glamour industry, has a dragon-lady boss, eventually gains success at the expense of her personal life, gets an object lesson via her former boss, and then -- because this was the 1950s -- decides that really, what she wants is to just let her boyfriend be in charge for a while.

My thumbnail description doesn't do justice to the lunatic greatness of this flick: I haven't mentioned the actress who gets killed stalking her ex-svengali or the Midwestern rube who is so adamant that she won't get an abortion, she flings herself out of a moving car ... and miscarries.

What stuck with me from the movie was how humanely it treated dragon-lady editrix Amanda Farrow (played by dragon-lady Joan Crawford, who let us know the character didn't really believe she was missing out by passing over marriage and motherhood) and made us understand why Caroline would want to be her, only better. It was one of the few elements from the novel that remained fully intact. (For a fascinating article on how the novel became the movie, read "The Lipstick Jungle," Vanity Fair, March 04.)

So I may re-read The Best of Everything before heading to the theatres to see The Devil Wears Prada. As NPR noted last year, the book does hold up ("Best of Everything Stands the Test of Time," June 27, 05). I'm curious to see exactly which glamorous gender- and generational-clashing drama seems more true today.

"Kevin Smith, Hollywood Raconteur"

So we got sucked into watching An Evening with Kevin Smith last Friday night. I didn't think it was going to happen -- I checked the TiVo listing, yelped "Three-and-a-half hours!" and promised I'd only watch for a few minutes -- but three hours later, I was still planted to the couch and snickering nonstop over his story about working with Prince for a week.

The man is a gifted storyteller. Phil was all, "He really should just have a TV show -- Kevin Smith, Hollywood Raconteur -- where he tells stories about working in the business." I doubt that'll happen, as IFC appears to be full-up on the "Beefy Indie Directors Dish Dirt" TV roster right now. Also, Kevin Smith's Hollywood Raconteur  racket is already up and running online.

It's no secret I dig the Kevin Smith: his Green Arrow run was pretty sweet, and I will drop whatever I'm doing to watch Clerks. What I find nearly as entertaining as Smith's body of work is the behind-the-scene stuff, the way he runs his business. He's extended the brand to a comics franchise, he runs a merchandising operation, and he basically cultivates an army of fans online by posting on message boards and posting to his various blogs. It's a genius balance: appear to be your basic slacker dude while keeping up a fairly rigorous schedule of creative and promotional obligations.

Although the message boards aren't really my thing, I will recommend that you take the time to read all nine parts of "Me and My Shadow." It's Smith's recounting of Jason Mewes' addiction to drugs and recovery efforts. The story's very riveting; so is the way it's structured as a serial with a clear narrative arc and character redemption by chapter nine. The way Smith mixes and matches professional skills with a personal story is like a how-to lesson in creative nonfiction -- bonus in an eye-popping look at how hard it is to kick a habit.

And on a final, Smith-related note: I watched the Clerks II trailer and holy cow, nothing will make you feel old, old, old like looking at the side-by-side photos of Randal and Dante from 1994 and 2004.

Now here's a good reason to go to the movies

While industry experts ponder the myriad reasons behind dwindling box-office attendance, organizers of film clubs — cliques in which film lovers can bond over movies in a more controlled environment than the neighborhood multiplex — say their associations are growing in popularity. It's particularly so with those who prefer their film fare served up with respect, and minus the endless commercials, chatter and crying babies.

[...]

Membership in film clubs does indeed have its privileges, whether they're free or discounted screenings of current films, or showings of movies weeks before their scheduled release. Committed film fans can volley with and question filmmakers, or rub shoulders with critics. Many of the clubs spotlight independent films, documentaries and other projects that might fall outside the blockbuster or major release mainstream. Though many screenings are at odd times — on weeknights or early mornings rather than prime-time weekend nights — members and organizers say the benefits far outweigh the shortfalls.

-- "Like Movies? Join the Club," LAT, Mar 23, 06

This seems like it could be a very pleasant antidote to the usual issues that other movie patrons introduce to the movie-going experience.

Would you like to know what the public wants?

So the NYT ran a story today, "When MovieGoers Vote With Their Feet," in which Galaxy Theaters CEO Frank Rimkus says, "We are trying to understand what the public wants. And Galaxy does not yet have a handle on it."

I include the photo that accompanied the story because it has two things in it I don't want from the movies: remakes and boors who confuse the public movie theatre with their private living room.

Amusingly enough, the last movie theatre I went to did feel like someone's living room: Central Cinema, which is a few miles from my house, lives inside an old mortuary and relies on scavenged couches for seating. And the other way in which it felt like a living room: all the inhabitants were as mannerly and considerate of each other as they'd be of their own friends and family. It helped that there were maybe 30 people in the room, so there was noplace to hide if you were a jackass.

So here's what I want as a member of the movie-going public, in general: