The Triumphant Returns And Spectacular Failures of Blogging in Hollywoodland

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Triumphant returns and spectacular failures tend to be the business as usual in the business as usual of Hollywoodland – not much reason to care otherwise – but which celebrities du jour are spiraling into the abyss (Bryan Singer) and which, for whom the bells toll ever so precariously (Marc Webb), will ultimately matter to the populace of two weeks from now offers considerably more meat and potatoes to the question of should we care.  The fact is we care and then some because we’ve been weaned on crash-and-burn-notices in our daily smorgasbords of popular catastrophes and consequently someone somewhere needs their fix and if not us then you and if not you then someone with a  blog or a web shelf for collecting the finer cobwebs of their two cents.  Shining a light on the scabs and the dermabrasions in order to make some semblance of meaning or relativity is what I’ve been doing here for four years – if not with regularity then staggeringly persistent, like a bunch of hobos congregating for reasons unbeknownst to them or the universe of tries.

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So we bloggers blog and the blogs go merrily around, or maybe they idle in uphill and downhill fumes fueled by the back biters and bad talkers for whom to pool for moments at a time, mostly nowhere near the well blended or sufficiently homogenized, praying they’ve become part of the blog-o-sphere darlings, desperate to get drunk on anonymity and anxious about their popularity.  Lesser successful types go at it in near obscurity, happy to know they’ve pushed something out into the void that might or might not implode like their very own Death Star cataclysm of an ending.  Others go at it for lots of reasons that have nothing to do with entertainment.  So why do we blog about blogging in the first place, about the proximity and distance to the muck we dream of belonging to or scathing on about to a larger audience when what only truly matters is who is in the spotlight that others might give a rats about?

Perhaps personalities are like balloons in varying stages of full and empty and what most people need is a needle-like reality check that doth oft pop the specter of our routine.  

The true success of capturing the fleeting, the almost imperceptible leavings of pop culture anything is discovered in the lull that always comes on in the wake of the latest greatest news bite – that no fantastic departure means you don’t have to worry about getting back to where you left off and beginning again is easy when you’re flat on the ground.  It also means you don’t have to think about whether or not anyone noticed or didn’t notice at all. Maybe it’s the whole fame maims and tortures bit, how famous people are only as deep as the layers of their defenses for the awkward insider within – still trying to figure out what it all means if anything.

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Blogging for the people that read blogs about people retiring from the spotlight for ten minutes and then in a desperate thirst for one more headline slipping back as though they never quit at all is after all is said and done the greatest Everest known to us.  These men and women of fame who spent too long embroiled in torrential meltdowns or falling fast careers think it good to go until they went, however catastrophic punctuated by DUI’s in the middle of starlight and the Hollywood walk of stars.  The pomp and circumstances of another writer in the chaos of blogging is a welcome reprieve from anonymity because silence hurts the ego as much as it stains the urgency to escape the mediocrity of the past or not-so-distant present-past swirling around in acrid disdain for everything we think we know about smiling.

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We are all fumbling on the 5 yard line, fighting to get back even if we were never that far ahead in the first place.  You see, it’s the glow that fades on contact with the air, where notoriety gets gobbled up by distracted popular drivers of fleeting opinions.  It’s like the way champion athletes get bumped aside in the broken perpetuity of has-been or ought-to-have-been-longer, quick indiscretions turned wrinkled decisions after years of Ace bandages and Penetrex rub downs, these pop star criminals settling after months of therapy and restorative measures to keep them on the ball and in the groove calling it quits for an office job with a microphone and tailored suit jacket to hide the years of abuse on their aging bravado. ATLdeanostheater And then we all arrive at some forgone conclusion about the last five minutes of time and space that required us to give ourselves over to the possibility of something tangible, something rewarding in our sack of Halloween candy.  Only by the time we dump it out and fish through the leavings, sort the ‘eat nows’ from the ‘eat laters’ and the ‘give aways’ it’s too late, the weight of reasonable expectations comes crashing down from way up high and it’s like you’re 5o or 60 going on 120 in the 25mph zone with an angry cop on a motorcycle he hates to ride every day of his life coming up fast and you’ve got nowhere to go but to the side of the road.

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Concussion (2013)

Writer-Director Stacie Passon’s masterful 2013 film “Concussion

ConcussionPosterAltb640x600Some films attract us because of the sheer audacity of performance: That quality of genuineness and emotional resonance that we feel and understand and appreciate at a core level beyond the artifice of convoluted Hollywood concepts and million dollar marketing campaigns.  Some films root us there with character-centered possibility, driven to portray a likeness to truth, however framed for effect, whereby situational conflict is brought to fruition through the charged dramatic unfolding of well constructed lives.  Performance is the fuel of films about troubled people and burgeoning interactions and they cater to our expectation of artful and selective verisimilitude.  In this way we can develop an emotional relationship without the need for an overarching event or concept driven structure. Writer-Director Stacie Passon’s 2013 film “Concussion” creates just such a landscape, populated with the interpersonal quandaries of everyday people fighting ordinary for an extraordinary revelation that their lives hold meaning in-congruent with their personal and professional obligations.  Passon masterfully crafts the complexity of inward glances to produce a quality of deafening silence that fills the screen with the unconveyable voracity of wounded hearts.

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In the quiet corners of our lives we sometimes discover that we have lost ourselves in the comfy mirrors of normalcy.

Passon’s richly sensual slice-of-life carefully carves out a middle class suburbia where routine and duty are essential components in the realm of a disenfranchised 42-year-old mother and wife (Robin Weigert) desperate for more life.  She manages the four walls of her relationships until a freak accidental blow to the head sets off a chain of events that jars her out of the stifling dissonance of trying kids and a frigid wife (Julia Fain Lawrence). What ensues is a crisis of self that turns her dampened world of privilege and longing inside out.  “Concussion” works on multiple levels, first as a performance driven drama with characters that live and breathe in specificity and charm, then as a modern parable about the age-old dilemma of broken promises and desires detoured.  You should experience this film as intended, allow it to envelop you and draw you away from forgone conclusions about your own trials and tribulations of the heart and loins.  Do yourself the favor of shuffling off the baggage out there, the heavy-handed or otherwise trivial reviews of hardened negativity about sex and romance.  Overbearing opinions have no value here, those frequently tangled moray and distrusts that discolor empowered women with varying means of finding and owning their own way in and out of control.  It would be a mistake to label this film as a gay romance or otherwise gender parable, reducing the impact of such fine writing and acting to little more than the abhorrent behavior inherent when couples come apart and the sacrosanct boundaries of marriage are crossed and torn asunder.

atlTicketSeeItv1In the calculated and desperate interiors of an affluent suburbia where mid-lifers’ struggle at the crossroads of staying the same or changing forever, “Concussion” is as refreshingly honest and relevant as it is necessary and frank.  What turns inner strife to shocking choices is less obvious as a blow to the head in our day-to-day drudgery but no less revealing of the inherent difficulties of identity crisis at any age or from any rung on the social ladder.  In the midst of life’s ups and downs, mired in prolonged periods of selflessness, we often forsake individuality in order to counterbalance our short-term unhappiness with the long-term happiness of others.  In this way relationships are formed and inevitably the individual becomes a fracture in the couple despite their great sacrifice and the outward appearance of accountability, love and commitment.  It is the stifled and unrequited heart that burns so very brightly in literature and films, characters driven by desperation and great courage to regain their former identities, pursue their innermost passions and tear their worlds apart in the process.  Passon’s film asks the hardest questions, like can a couple be happy if the individuals are not?  And, what do we make of our tireless pursuits of joy and rage once embraced, allowed in, brought to fruition only to be cauterized by dawn’s early light?  In this reduction of lives lived and dreams detoured in a Manhattan landscape where professional and personal malaise thrives, the characters are at once timeless, familiar and tragically us.

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Like the central characters in films about crisis, sexual awakenings and brute force mediocrity, “Concussion” invites the audience to imagine the safety of routine and reason until one day everything becomes a question of sacrifice and loss.  This is a passionate amalgamation of experiences, both autobiographical and otherwise, concentrated by the sagging reality of a lesbian couple’s suburban world of mirrors.  There is no denying the painterly pace, as necessary as poignant in films about our everyday lives, but unlike the often brash objectification of sex and intimacy popularized by some independent pictures, Passon creates a world of tactile minutiae without apology or cumbersome narration.  The effect is to frame the true centerpiece of the film, namely the evocative unraveling of Abby and her confrontation with the emotional volatility of a suffocated forty-something insider her that desperately needs releasing.  “Concussion” is profoundly approachable and at times seductively disarming, weaving a tapestry of intense and beautifully photographed moments where contemplative long shots foster immutable expressions and precision lends a psychology of imagery to inner and outer locations.

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Concussion” is neither a gay or straight film but rather a journey that captures the fleeting moments of doubt and indecision betwixt doing what is right for the people in our lives and living with the consequences of doing what is right for ourselves.  It might not be the right film for everyone, perhaps only a select audience willing to entertain the fleeting remnants of dreams teetering on the temporality of truth and the make-believe rewards of our failures and successes.

“The idea wasn’t to get it right, the idea was to just have this character go on a pretty simple journey.” ~ Stacie Passon

 

Posted in Movie I've Seen, Movie Makers & Shakers, Movies You Should or Should Not See, My Review of Their Review:, On DVD, Online, philosophy and film, Rants & Raves | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Blow Salon ‘Spring Art Show’ features Melissa K. Smith

MKSatSalonPromoDSC_2358wb Multi-disciplinarian artist, photographer and creator of the “Blood Roses” gothic vampire comic series Melissa K. Smith has a new show featuring her ethereal landscapes and figurative wolf-inspired acrylic paintings at the beautiful Blow Salon in Berkeley.  The opening reception for the group “Spring Art Show” is Saturday, April 19th at 8pm and will feature local artists including Kate Ingram, James Foley, Emily Cadagan and Becca Jones Starr. 4grs5x7bwStang As an active member of the diverse arts communities of the East Bay, Melissa engages a variety of subjects using different media, mediums and techniques.  Painter, inker, actress, producer – artist and dreamer, she’s an avid traveler in “the everywhere” as she incorporates the new and the ancient, traditional myths, legends and alternative perspectives into her work.  She is also an avid animal rights advocate and volunteers for Never Cry Wolf Rescue & Adoptions in Roseville, California as a wolf handler and educator.  Fond of midnight excursions over daylight company, happenstance to planned routines, you’ll find her creating art and making places for conversations and query as a point of departure and discovery. melissapanel001Melissa’s work reveals a tireless exploration of the nether-spaces in color and form where she prepares layered, complex compositions that are at once inviting, sometimes challenging, ultimately beckoning the viewer to illusory places between the thoughts of the artist and the destinations of the viewer.  These structured juxtapositions of concrete space and imagined space tell us that the subjects of her worlds are like us in their intimate pursuits of harmonic significance in the boundaries and escape ship plans of our lives.  This examination of the conflict inherent in indeterminable spaces is the foundation upon which Melissa completed two consecutive undergraduate degrees before advanced graduate work at JFK University in Berkeley where she studied transformative arts and consciousness.  After additional studio work, then teaching technique and form in the Bay Area, she spent the summer traveling to Italy where she taught Italian students in Lucca during the day and venturing to Rome and Florence at night.  These travels culminated in a Master’s Degree with special interest in acrylic painting and conceptualized “found object” formulations. MelissaShoots001 Melissa draws on a lifetime of artful pursuits, formal education and experimentation with painting, pen & ink, charcoal, Conte, photography, illustrations, comic books, printing and film & video (see Melissa’s films and projects on IMDB).  With a long list of private and public shows, gallery showings, intimate cafes, lounges, funky studios – her work can be found throughout the West Coast, Canada, Italy and New York.  As an active member of Never Cry Wolf Rescue & Adoptions she conducts outreach and education through out Northern California and uses her experiences as the basis for an ongoing wolf-inspired series of paintings.  In addition, she shoots video and photographs for their online website along with promotions and publicity.  Her painting “Dreaming Of The Wild” was selected by the Grand Canyon Wolf Recovery Project, a non-profit organization based in Flagstaff, Arizona to be in their gallery show to promote positive wolf awareness.  Her acrylic painting “No Woman’s Land” was chosen by jury selection for the Arts & Consciousness Alumni Exhibition at John F. Kennedy University in Berkeley, California for the exhibition “Art as Liminal Space: Threshold of Transformation”.   Her painting “Honey Hunter” was included in San Francisco’s Central City Hospitality House’s Community Arts Program exhibit “Honeycomb 2012″. DSC_1588FangsWb Additional articles about Melissa K. Smith: Melissa K. Smith’s New Gallery Show: Threshold of Transformation Melissa K. Smith – Artist, Dreamer, Adventurist   Melissa K. Smith: Honey Hunter: Photo-mâché: Imagist & Multidisciplinarian

 Blow Salon – http://www.blowsalon.com

blowsalon7667510 blowsalonUimageBlow Salon provides professional, creative hair styling, cutting and coloring services which express the individuality and style of each of our clients. Our intimate salon atmosphere and attentive staff combine to create a comfortable setting for your hair styling experience. On our walls you will see art by local artists which rotates several times a year, providing the salon with creative flair and inspiration.   “We are a Barber Shop for Girls* * and Grrlz, Bois, Boys, Ladies, Queers, Guys, Men, Freaks, Kinksters and Weirdos! And we do every head of hair to look sexy on a pillow.” blowsalon_streetcorner Blow Salon is a full service salon and artist hang located in the heart of Berkeley


Meet the artists: Emily Cadigan, James Foley, Kate Ingram Becca Jones-Starr, and Melissa K Smith! Plus great nibbles by the great Habib Cutolo, Brew by Triple Rock and wine donation by the owner of Kingfish, Sara and Emil (you guys are awesome). So bring your cute self, maybe a friends or three… eat, drink and enjoy some new art for your Spring.

Posted in Essays on art, Online, Speak-Freely | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Twixt (2011)

atltwixtBanner1Francis Ford Coppola’s Poe-driven, dream fueled dramatic horror filmTwixt” is an artful and fractured amalgamation of curious themes and lesser ones that come together and drift apart in the illusory intersections of otherworldly encounters.  It is less horror as psychological happenstance, more apt to an atmosphere of questioning in a landscape of mirrors than a traditional plot point based genre film.  For this Coppola treads purposefully airy, makes disjointed a way of pressuring the viewer to concede their addiction to grand theatrics and accept the elusive nature of inner spaces and other dimensions.  Working in such curious places and constructing such stylized scenarios for a cast of broken souls and restless spirits is indeed a precarious and risky maneuver, given Coppola’s track record since choosing smaller, more intimate and personal films.  The result, while rewarding to Coppola aficionados and otherworldly adventurists, “Twixt” succeeds in ways and means that are simply not for everyone.

atlTicketSeeItv1Twixt” is about dead-end roads and the distracted ambition of the travelers we find there in a makeshift world about middle grounds between dreams and the indecision of lost souls. We are invitees to the inky interiors of Coppola’s own perplexed life and the accumulated imaginings of his career.  If “Twixt” accomplishes anything it is to take us one and all on a wayward journey of self investigation.  At the same time all this wandering challenges our individual morality and ethical responses to boogie men and monsters of man-made origins.  For our willingness to embrace Coppola’s normalcy and acceptable vagueness he is defenseless to flawed interpretations and confused reactions.  Perhaps the disclaimer should read, “..come all ye the faithful willing to embrace abnormal as a neighbor and not an adversary..” less the scenes unfold and then blur, come together only to dissipate in sunlight and uncertainty.  Then again we are wanton in our funeral pyres for our pop culture deities and celebrities du jour.  Coppola makes no apologies for working from his own personal experiences and the film is the better for his immutable passions. This is also where the story truly exceeds the limitations of the medium to reveal the artist in his art. This is not to say mainstream audiences are interested in what they find, which by the looks of things they didn’t and still don’t – but if you take anything away from this review be it the inspiration to divorce yourself of practiced expectations, dim the lights and set off for untainted and personal discovery.

atltwixtCoppolaSetIf “Twixt” seems convoluted or otherwise rigid with meaningfulness, it was perhaps destined to fail with mainstream audiences in the same way Kevin Smith‘s “Red State” (my review here) abandoned the kitschy gold foil of the funnyman’s repertoire for a muddy genre flick blurring the pulpit of his politics with the escapist-glee of the Cineplex.  I am also reminded of the fashionable newcomer Duncan Jones‘ and how he burnt the bridges of a promising film career with his second feature, the baffle-able “Source Code” (my review here).  Maybe the would-be viewer is well advised to take a film of the elsewhere less traveled in stride, similarly differently-destined to be enjoyed and even resurrected a time or two after the fact, by truer souls than anyone in the midst of predictable media.   Perhaps Coppola’s most salient success is his characterization of the unknown forces in the universe in a film about intangible feelings where the only believable reaction to ghosts and apparitions is the exact opposite found in the films of lesser talents and broader mainstream accomplishments.  

twixt_poseATL1If you find yourself curious and compelled to poke about in unknown places, if you peer into mirrors and windows searching for an inkling of otherness, if your medium between the ether of your life and what must certainly be other realms of sensations and surreptitious meetings of the heart, soul and elsewhere, then by all means let yourself go awhile and live in the moments for there we are truly free from prescriptions and the artless maladies of modernity – what Baudelaire described as the consequences of conurbation or the melding of metropolises into a greater concentration of blasé that devours the fleeting, ephemeral experience of life, where the only cure is art.

twixt_JapanPosterATL1In many ways Coppola speaks to the growing sense of distance and disconnect in audiences today, our sometimes overzealous appetites that prevent us from wanting crossroads in a film about crossroads.  The fact that Coppola had envisioned a much more involved and personal experience with a concept film that ultimately fails with mainstream audiences suggests we have yet to separate our expectations from the potential for other possibilities of entertainment.  Yet another layer of potential in an era of excessiveness and obviousness that is far more telling than anything – confirming the difficulty of simplicity both in sticking to your original intentions and catering to the hungry throngs of fans and others desperate for greatness and unwilling to accept the expansive universe of lesser magnanimity.  

 

Charles Baudelaire’s
Fleurs du mal / Flowers of Evil

Le Voyage

Mais les vrais voyageurs sont ceux-là seuls qui partent
Pour partir; coeurs légers, semblables aux ballons,
De leur fatalité jamais ils ne s'écartent,
Et, sans savoir pourquoi, disent toujours: Allons!

But the true voyagers are only those who leave 
Just to be leaving; hearts light, like balloons, 
They never turn aside from their fatality 
And without knowing why they always say: "Let's go!"
Posted in Movie I've Seen, Movie Makers & Shakers, Movies You Should or Should Not See, My Review of Their Review:, On DVD, Online, philosophy and film, Rants & Raves | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Stand Up for Pain in the Oblivion of Pines

posterpanelATLI watch so many movies I often get swept up in the effort to write about all of them in an effective and coherent way.  Monday to Wednesday and I’m already behind, by Friday I’ll be right back here scrambling to write about writing about reviews instead of actually doing them.  It’s a process, I separate them to begin with, the good and the bad are easy, then there’s the stack of ‘maybe‘ – those prove the hardest by far, I suppose that is why I’ve avoided a banner, that would be easy.  ‘Maybe‘ is not quite one way or the other, story is there and hardly anything else, great characters and some good lines lost in the wasteland of a jumbled plot – hodgepodge seems to sum it right and proper, far from good and terrible but nowhere near re-watchable.  That’s why I get swept up in the effort, how will I be certain – ‘see it’ or ‘miss it’, I don’t know.

oblivion-movie-2013-wallpaper-hdI’m a big fan of Sci-Fi, long before we had a cable television station devoted to it, before the last 10 years of reimagined and reconstituted, sequels and prequels and more nonsense – you can’t reboot a worn out shoe, leave it alone, find your own way to memorable, to the canon of pop culture fandom.  If originality and copy enter the Thunderdome, one comes out and the other you do your best to forget, certainly you avoid writing about it.  What about Tom Cruise and “Oblivion” – another lost Sci-Fi expedition?  It got the shaft in general but that’s pretty much expected, choosing refined quiet like “Running Silent” and most recently “Moon“, sadly this is why it got chewed to pieces.  Right now we’re drowning in excessiveness, more is better even when it’s too much by all rights.  The big name reviewers bit down hardest, then bloggers and stragglers, what’s worse is the deadened maul of unquenchable mass appetites, strung out on all the wrong flicks, too much seems like the new crunchy ice – how can we ever reach a happy balance of sugar and spices if we’re mired in the middle ground of whatever, frozen to death in the tragedy of excess?  Oh, yes I did like “Oblivion” quite a bit.  Perhaps he’ll get a full review.  I guess if I liked what everybody else liked I might have it easier, then again what would I have to say?

Pain_And_Gain_Teaser_PosterI should go on in great delight about Michael Bay‘s remarkable departure, his signature action bravado (see my Movie Mechanic editorial) in check, characters and dialogue to remember ahead of drawn out collateral damage in the muscle-bound heist flick “Pain & Gain“.  I knew from the trailer it was one to watch, all the adrenaline and speed, the quick wit and structured situational funny midst flashy set pieces and the truly true circumstances of what really happened.  Bay captures so effortlessly what typified the zeitgeist of 1990s Hollywood concept film, the hyper-reality of “Die Hard” before it died hard, the climax of “Lethal Weapon” and then again, the intersection of Wolfgang Petersen, Paul Verhoeven, James Cameron and Brian De Palma mixed in with a dozen-dozens of the no less talented but obviously destined for the back seat careers of the likes of Mikael Salomon (Backdraft), Joseph Ruben (Sleeping With The Enemy) and Jan de Bont (Die Hard/Lethal Weapons) among many, many others.  Bay – Le Mecanisme de cineaste du jour ”Movie Mechanic” manages to step away from the airy mayhem of his usual brand of big screen theatrics and reveal a side of himself that I would certainly enjoy seeing more of.  The genre of the 90s was jammed to the rafters with action flicks in varying tones of great, OK and forgettable.  And like today it has become increasingly more difficult to stand out in the crowd.  Even if you don’t like “Pain & Gain” it would be difficult to deny its independence.

place beyond pines costume exhibitAnd then there was “The Place Beyond the Pines” that appears much more liked, though for the life of me I don’t know why.  I guess star power trumps everything else.  The readily saleable Gosling and Cooper to sell tickets with mention alone.  Gosling made Crazy, Stupid Love a success, despite how really crappy it is, hardly worth reviewing but that didn’t seem to stop me.  I don’t hate it because that would be too much of an investment, I’m still puzzled why it went over so well.  I liked Cooper in “Limitless” even less, the same tired 8 minutes over and over again like somehow it was going to get better by the end instead of just flopping on the floor, finally.  All that before I even get close to “Pines”, not terrible or anywhere close to likable, it just feels so incomplete, like a bunch of scenes tossed together as the director prays it will come together in the end – which it doesn’t, not really.

derek-cianfrance-place-beyond-the-pines-600x245“Pines” director Derek Cianfrance might have “Blue Valentine” under his belt and a competent psychological drama at that, but a closer look at his filmography reveals not much meat before – made for TV forgettable, shorts leading to shorts, from the camera and electrical department to the top of the class – but we’ve seen this kind of filmmaker before and we know not even that can last.  “Pines” had moments like “Silver Lining” before it but nowhere near enough to make the viewing worth the investment.  By the time the weak story structure plays out, once we leave one half of the film to begin another that might as easily be cleaved out on its own, the acting fills the rooms about as convincingly as the stunted and at times pedestrian dialogue that is neither particularly colorful nor entirely memorable.

stand-up-guys02Stand Up Guys” has all the right ingredients for a solid, character driven middle of the road film, one that should if all the cards fall where they should, appeal to a broad demographic and make a few bucks in the process.  Those clutching on to their aging matinée heroes, those who love the idea of the ‘bucket list’ plot mechanism, those who just can’t seem to get enough gangster yarns in their dietary intake of Hollywood’s finest will find it here and there.  But the trouble with the middle of anything is how very far you are from either end, unable to firmly grasp the terra firma of success nor succumb thankfully, to the dire and rankest depths of utter failure – though in all honesty, ‘Guys’ just sort a wallows in the fading fervor of its own self-worth, destined to die the thousand shocks of mediocrity.  The saddest thing of all is to watch such a wasted effort, the chance to pit some of our favorites together if only to see them working off one another.  Some say acting is reacting.  Would it were so true one might simply enjoy the effort, still ‘Guys’ seems hardly worth it after all is said and done and you’ve got popcorn and bubble gum stuck to your shoes.

ATLdeanostheaterI keep going back to something several people have said since I started Above The Line back in 2010, questions really about why I do it, why I spend so much time writing about movies I don’t like. The answer has always been about learning something, improving my understanding of the cinematic language that it all might inform my own screenwriting, filling in the holes in my own movies so I don’t suffer the same negative reviews.  But lately I’m beginning to think differently about all those movies and ‘miss it’ reviews.  I guess it’s because I’ve lost so much time and will lose even more as life goes on.  When your time boils down to only a few hours at a time, you begin to rethink your priorities.  That’s not to say I’ll stop writing about all the movies I can, good and bad, even the ‘maybe’ ones.  But I do have to come to terms with my limitations.  I’m already behind.  It’s a process.  That’s why I get swept up in the effort, all the decisions to be made – ‘see it’ or ‘miss it’, I guess we’ll see.

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