I'll just put this bluntly...

...Since there's no other way to put it. A movie is coming out next year called TEETH, a movie about a beautiful girl who has teeth in her vagina. Read on guys, this is some weird shit (and I'm not making this up, I promise).

Will this film be 2007's Hard Candy???
Teeth has been selected for dramatic competition for the 07 Sundance film festival and has been pegged as a feminist horror/drama.

Link to picture

Plot Description - High school student Dawn works hard at suppressing her budding sexuality by being the local chastity group's most active participant. Her task is made even more difficult by her bad boy stepbrother Brad's increasingly provocative behavior at home. A stranger to her own body, innocent Dawn discovers she has a toothed vagina when she becomes the object of violence. As she struggles to comprehend her anatomical uniqueness, Dawn experiences both the pitfalls and the power of being a living example of the vagina dentata myth. With Jess Weixler (The Big Bad Swim) as Dawn, John Hensley ("Nip/Tuck") as Brad.

But can it be as awesome as the Japanese masterpiece...

Casey, Alyssa, and Kaitlynn, Eternal Love?

They were best friends. Casey, Alyssa, and Kaitlynn were closer than any three girls throughout all of high school. They had classes together, they laughed, partied, cheered, ate junk food, went shopping, and had fun together. Nobody was closer than they were. They had the perfect friendship.

But all good things must come to an end... (DHUN DHUN DHUNNNNN)

Although it took a while for them to figure it out, the girls came to an undeniable conclusion. While guy after guy had come and gone through their lives, they had always remained together through the thick and thin, living it up during the good times and supporting each other during the bad. Was this just friendship, or something more?

They didn't know what to do. They were young, beautiful girls who had always thought that guys were the way to go, and the thing to do. But what were they thinking? Guys were dumbasses, and they were young, beautiful girls after all. They began 'hanging out' more and more, with no one else suspecting a thing. To the outside world, they were just another trio of high school girls who hung out with each other all the time.

While all was cool on the outside though, not all was perfect between the girls now. Mormons are fucked up for a reason, and that reason is multiple sexual partners. Alyssa, who we will just say wore the pants in the relationship, became jealous and controlling, possibly because of past relationships. Casey and Kaitlynn, very much in love in a very, very sexual way, began worrying for each other. How many beatings and semi-rapes would they have to endure because of Alyssa's formerly unknown fetish for violence?

One night, a dark and stormy night dominated by lightning and the screaming of orphan babies crying in the streets, Casey and Kaitlynn plotted. The Bitch had to go, they decided. Playing the innocent way in, the two seduced Alyssa into their bedroom, promising her some serious nooky. Alyssa, all sixteen brain cells pumping, jumped right into bed, as naked as the day she was born. Poor, poor girl. CK (I'm tired of writing Casey and Kaitlynn over and over) exacted their revenge on The Bitch, slapping her, pulling on the corn tooth, and uploading very revealing photos on their MySpace accounts. Alyssa left the two lovebirds to themselves for the rest of their lives, and she was never seen or heard of again. CK lived happily ever after.

In a very, very lesbian way.

So LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA looks good...

Clint Eastwood released his war epic FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS only last month, but it seems to have fizzled out of sight due to lackluster reviews (well, lackluster for him, 74% on Rotten Tomatoes isn't anything to be ashamed of) and poor box office (any way you cut it, a $52 million worldwide intake on a $90 million budget is awful, especially with these expectations).

There may be light at the end of the tunnel though. FLAGS told the story of the battle for Iwo Jima during WWII, as well as the effects that propoganda has on the minds of disillusioned soldiers. Eastwood shot it back-to-back with LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA, which shows the battle from the Japanese side. The trailer is up, and in my opinion, it looks better than FLAGS, which I never got around to seeing. Somebody at Warner Brothers thinks so too, and they have bumped up the release date to December 20th, in time for the awards race at the end of the year. I've got no problem with that, seeing how I might be able to see both of them back-t0-back in a theater now (Christmas break, bitches).

That's all for now.

I'm tired

I'm exhausted. I haven't slept well since Saturday night (it's Tuesday morning right now).

Fuck.

Casey wants me to write something about her, so I will. Later. After I sleep hopefully. Probably not though.

Fuck.

THE THIN RED LINE

Part One of My Examination of War in Film

"Maybe all men got one big soul everyone's part of. All faces are the same man."

James Caveziel. Nick Nolte. Sean Penn. Elias Koteas. Ben Chaplin. Woody Harrelson. John Cusack. John C. Reilly. Nick Stahl. Adrien Brody. John Travolta. George Clooney. These are the players involved. THE THIN RED LINE is the game of their lives.

An epic poem about life and death, madness and contentness, love and loss, sacrifice and brotherhood, THE THIN RED LINE is one of the supreme accomplishments ever put onto celluloid, of any genre, at any time. Director Terrence Malick returned to filmmaking after a 20-year hiatus after making DAYS OF HEAVEN in 1978. Malick adapted the film from a novel written in 1962 by James Jones, a fictional account about the American assault and eventual takeover of the Japanese island of Guadalcanal during World War II. The novel (and first film adaptation, made in 1964) was a straight-forward look at the battles the soldiers fought in to claim the Japanese stronghold. Malick's vision is something deeper; something sublime.

While the battle scenes are masterfully shot and rival those of SAVING PRIVATE RYAN in terms of tension and staging (though definitely not carnage or blood), THE THIN RED LINE really isn't about war at the end of the film. Instead, Malick, tells a tale of how every single person is intertwined by the gift of life, no matter who they are or where they come from. He uses the backdrop of war as a metaphor to say how crazy (and ironic) it is that man's worst enemy is himself.

In the film, the Japanese are the enemy, but they are not portrayed as one-sided hateful beings, but soldiers who face many of the same fears, feel the same hopes and ambitions, and experience the same traumas of war as the Americans. The usual American war film clichés are gone; the Americans do not run in and kill those bastard Japs with guns blazing and soldiers standing upon the hills while the enemy flees in terror. As it progresses, the soldiers and the audience both gain an understanding of how equal and common every person is.

With the use of multiple narratives from different characters, all of whom have different perspectives on life, love, war, death, and themselves, Malick's knack for storytelling is undeniable. The first story, and what in my opinion is the most important and best-told story of the film's entirity, focuses on a private (Caviezel) who goes AWOL on an island paradise inhabited only by a small village of natives. He is the first man from the outside world they have ever encountered, but they are not afraid of him nor do they look at him with biased eyes. In this world, this island, there is hardly any conflict, even between children. This is paradise to Private Witt, but it is short-lived, and he is forced to go to war, which is hell.

This is how war is presented in THE THIN RED LINE. Malick uses beautiful natural-light based imagery and higher thought to offset the underlying theme that war is most definitely hell. Men killing other man is one of the most troubling paradoxes this world will ever know, especially when one considers how tightly we are all bonded, no matter who we are.

A+

DEJA VU

"We've got some unique time constraints."

In concept alone, DEJA VU is a fairly unique concept. The government has invented a device that allows time to be manipulated in a way that the actual pas, four days ago exactly, can be viewed now exactly how it happened. A thought like this could be analyzed forever, but DEJA VU isn't that type of movie, it's an action movie. Which isn't too bad, I guess.

Denzel Washington is Doug Carlin, an ATF agent assigned to a possibly terrorist-related explosion on a boat in New Orleans that has left 543 people dead, including a group of Navy sailors on leave. It is clear very quickly that the explosion was a bombing, not an accident. A woman (Paula Patton) with significant burns marks washes up on shore, but Carlin believes that she was not on the boat, making her a key part to investigating the baffling crime.

Called to a secret operation involving the said time warping instrument, Carlin finds himself over his head. FBI agent Pryzwarra (a very chubby Val Kilmer) and a group of techies (played by Adam Goldberg and Elden Henson in a couple of seriosly funny bit parts) explain that they can go back in time four days and see the past. Things get interesting when not only does Carlin start seeing the past, but living in the past. The movie's most exciting and conceptually innovative scene is a car chase in which Carlin chases after a person who is actually in the past. Trippy? I think so. In all seriousness, it is one of the best chase sequences of any kind ever put into a film.

While the film is almost great, it stops short of greatness. Where similar sci-fi masterpieces such as THE MATRIX capitalized on its epic, mind-bending concepts, DEJA VU whimps out in a way at the end, closing on a good note, but only after a disappointing final scene. Overall though, it is high-class entertainment, anchored by the usual solid Denzel performance and with restrained direction from the usually frenetic Tony Scott (DOMINO, anyone?), as well as a thought-enducing premise.

B+

Eldridge v. Kutcher, an Analysis

In one corner, Keegan Eldridge, in the other, Ashton Kutcher.

What would seem like a very unlikely comparison is actually, at second glance, anything but. One is a sixteen-year-old junior in high school, Lake Region High School to be exact, the other a 28-year-old 1996 graduate of Clear-Creek Amana High School of Homestead, Iowa. One drums, the other earns millions for roles in television such as THAT 70S SHOW and films such as THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT, DUDE, WHERE'S MY CAR?, and THE GUARDIAN. One runs and does Erin Rowbotham, one um, uh, well I don't know what he does except Demi Moore. Yes, that Demi Moore.

It would seem that these two squires share no similarities. On the contrary, says this writer. Several affinities are present in both of these gentlemen, most notably of the physical attributes. The sleek jawline, the skinny (bony, even?) frame, the runner's body, and the sick 'burns can be seen on both Mr. Eldridge and Mr. Kutcher.

This debate will not end by the conclusion of this entry. It will no doubt rage on in many different societal levels for the next several decades, even centuries perhaps. Who is better looking? Why is that? I am afraid that a true ending to this discussion may never take place.

NASHVILLE

"'Y'all take it easy now. This isn't Dallas, it's Nashville! They can't do this to us here in Nashville! Let's show them what we're made of. Come on everybody, sing! Somebody, sing!"

NASHVILLE is a Robert Altman film to its bones, a sprawling masterpiece of an epic filled with amazing, true-to-life performances and brimming with life. An enormous cast, including Lily Tomlin, Karen Black, Henry Gibson, Keith Carradine, Scott Glenn, Ronny Blakley, Barbara Baxley, and a very young Jeff Goldblum highlight a massive cast that produces one of the most complex and involving movies of the 70s.

Multiple storylines intertwine during one week around the 4th of July 1975 in Nashville, Tennessee. Dreams are built up over the course of what is hoped to be a rapturous week of patriotism and liveliness. Some of these dreams are realized, some turn into nothing, but all of their fates are determined by the final, resounding scene.

Though the film is more than 150 minutes long, it hums by quickly. The recently deceased Robert Altman was a great filmmaker when it came to juggling multiple story lines and allowing his actors the freedom to decide their own fates. His signature style was to have the camera rolling and let it follow his actors, letting them have complete freedom with their lines and delivery. This style is on vivid, lively display in NASHVILLE, which feels alive. The twenty-four (yes, 24) major roles are all fleshed out and deep, especially Linnea Reese (Tomlin), a mother of two deaf children with a husband never home, who has an affair with a rock star who is using her. Tomlin amazes in the role, hitting so close to home with her realistic depiction of a woman who has lost her love for life, and feels that she now has a chance for excitement and passion through being with a rock god. The tragedy is that after she is with him, nothing has changed.

NASHVILLE is a brilliant film. It is complexly structured and alive, with multiple stories, true-to-life performances from both experienced actors and amateurs, brilliant music (much of it written by the cast themselves) making it bursting at the seams with energy for every minute of its 159-minute running time. Robert Altman has made one of the best movies of the 70s.

A+

What is it good for?

So, it's almost December, and the Christmas season is upon us. So I'm going to watch some war movies.

Whaaa?

I know it doesn't really fit in well with the mood around this time of year, but after working on M*A*S*H for over two months, I want to dive into one of the most fascinating and deeply-steeped genres of film: war. I'll be watching a few new movies, as well as re-watching a few of my old favorites over the course of the next thirty-six days (until December 1st). I'll be reviewing them too, along with everything else I see (for the most part). The eleven-part war docket will look something like this:

APOCALYPSE NOW (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
BAND OF BROTHERS (HBO Miniseries, 2001)
BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN (Sergei M. Eisenstein, 1925)
DOWNFALL (Oliver Hirschbeigel, 2004)
DR. STRANGELOVE OR: HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE BOMB (Stanley Kubrick, 1964)
JARHEAD (Sam Mendes, 2005)
M*A*S*H (Robert Altman, 1970) (HBO Miniseries, 2001)
THE ROAD TO GUANTANAMO (Michael Winterbottom, 2006)
SAVING PRIVATE RYAN (Steven Spielberg, 1998)
SCHINDLER'S LIST (Steven Spielberg, 1993)
THE THIN RED LINE (Terrence Malick, 1998)

I'll see you on the other side.

UNFORGIVEN

"I've killed women and children. I've killed just about everything that walks or crawled at one time or another. And I'm here to kill you, Little Bill, for what you did to Ned."

If THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY was Clint Eastwood's vision of a gunslinger living legend on the way up in the Old West--with awesome one-liners, grizzled eye squinting, commanding presence, and unparalleled badass-ness--than UNFORGIVEN is the way down.

It's fitting, to me, that this is Clint Eastwood's film. No one has a more influential presence when one talks about American westerns than Eastwood, other than John Wayne maybe, and it is fitting that he closes the door of the genre. After all, films of his such as THE MAN WITH NO NAME Trilogy, HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER, and THE OUTLAW JOSEY WALES are some of the quintessential spaghetti westerns to ever be made.

While UNFORGIVEN isn't as entertaining, or as good really, as these films, it is certainly obvious that Clint has riden in the saddle for quite some time. While most Westerns involve glorifying their heroes and making the enemies completely one-dimensional assholes, UNFORGIVEN blurs the line. It stars Eastwood as William Munny, a former gunslinger who has moved on from his old profession, and is now a widower with two children in 1880 Wyoming. He climbs back in the saddle for one last job after a group of whores offer a reward to anyone who will kill the men who scarred one of their own. Joining him is his lifetime Ned Logan (Morgan Freeman), who used to ride shotgun with William in his old crusades. Tagging along is the young, dumb, trigger-happy yuppy known only as The Schofield Kid, played by Jaimz Woolvett.

In UNFORGIVEN, the violence is not pretty. It does not make one a bigger man, or more liked or glorified by anyone else. One of the most emotionally shattering moments in the film comes after The Schofield Kid has shot a man. He has been riding around for months with the men to do so, and couldn't be more eager when the time finally comes. He busts down a door, looks the man he is about to kill straight in the eyes, and then shoots him in the chest. The violence isn't cartoonish at all, instead, it's mesmerizing, in the same way a car accident is. It's awful, but you can't look away. Horrified, The Kid drops his gun and runs away, saying he will never kill another man again for as long as he lives.

This is Eastwood's natural evolution as a director. He has been making westerns for decades, so nobody in Hollywood should be more aware of the reality of the material than he. UNFORGIVEN is a mature film, one that takes its time in telling its story so it can get everything right. That doesn't mean it is a perfect or flawless film by any means, I personally think it is a bit too slow in spots and could cut down on its running time by fifteen minutes, but it knows its story.

Opposing William when he rides into town is the sheriff of Big Whiskey, Little Bill Daggett, played juicily by Gene Hackman. Little Bill is a great character, a concoction of corruption and glee rolled into a dark man who, like William, knows the truth behind violence. While Little Bill would rather be at home building his porch, he knows how to lay down the law in a way that makes people understand not to break it: street violence. He beats Will to within an inch of his life, and then throws him out on to the rainy, cold streets in the middle of the night. Does this make him a bigger man? No, but it shows what happens when people believe they can take the law into their own hands and committ acts of violence.

Overall, UNFORGIVEN is a damn solid western. While it is too slow in many scenes and the acting is a bit wooden by some of the supporting characters, it's message on violence and it's vision of the Old West is brilliant.

B+

50, 50 Link

THE FOUNTAIN

"Our bodies are prisons, for our souls. All flesh decays... death turns all to ash. And thus, death frees every soul..."

THE FOUNTAIN is the closest I will get to having a religious experience in a movie theater this year.

It is a miraculous film achievement, a testament to the hard work and dedication that Director Darren Aronofsky has poured into his passionate project over the last several years. His wife, a beautiful Rachel Weisz, stars with Hugh Jackman in a love story that transcends time, space, and body. Three different tales taking place over one thousand years intertwine into a story so bold and so beautiful, it must be seen to be believed.

In the first of the stories, Jackman is Spanish Conquistador Tomas, a warrior in 1500 A.D. who travels to the Mayan ruins in search of the sap from the Tree of Life, in order to live forever with Queen Isabel (Weisz), whom he is in love with. In the second story, which takes place in the present, he is Tommy, a surgeon who may have stumbled on the key to immortality by accident, when the rosin used in a surgery on an ape brings unforseen result: complete healing. He must race to find the cure to his wife Izzy's sickness, which is claiming her life quickly. The third is the oddest, and the most brilliant. It takes place in an orb of sorts, which is traveling through the universe. In it, Jackman is Tom Creo, a mix of both of the last two incarnations and a new man. He is alone, except for a tree, perhaps The Tree, which we are lead to assume is the re-incarnated Izzy/Isabel.

What is THE FOUNTAIN about? I've been trying to figure that out ever since I left the theater a few hours ago. I think above all, it is a look at how beautiful an undying love is. It is no coincidence that Aronofsky shoots Weisz as if she is a goddess; she is his wife, and she is beautiful. Jackman's performance is passionate and emotional, which complements the calmness of Weisz's. Izzy knows that she is going to die, but she is not afraid. It is tragic in a way, but blissful in another. It doesn't have a definitive end point because the story unfolds in a completely un-chronological way. When it does conclude, the ending is simultaneously maddening and perfectly fitting with the rest of this visually and thematically orgasmic film.

A+

It's Thanksgiving, What Are You Thankful For?

-I'm thankful for my friends, whom are varied in activities and personalities and make my life more interesting because of that.
-I'm thankful for my family, as messed up as they are.
-I'm thankful for my parents, for giving me so many oppurtunities.
-I'm thankful for film. Somebody once asked me why I love it so much, and I said the following: "A picture says a thousands words, and a film has 24 frames per second, so a film can say anything."
-I'm thankful for Pilgrim Lodge, and the people who go there.
-I'm thankful for laughing all the time.
-I'm thankful that this year has been better than last year.
-I'm thankful for being an American, despite all the bad buzz we get.

You?

CASINO ROYALE

"I'm sorry, that last hand, it nearly killed me."

CASINO ROYALE is the best Bond film since Sean Connery graced the screen as 007 in the late-60s. I'll put that observation out there, that bluntly and that quickly, because that's how the beginning of this film is. There is now a blonde Bond, Brit Daniel Craig, and one should expect to see a lot of him in the future, because this performance is going to send him through the stratosphere. Craig's approach to the now iconic film legend is a re-invented one, without the camp of Roger Moore, the false bravado of Timothy Dalton, or the GQ-ness of Pierce Brosnan, whom Craig replaced as Bond. His performance is right up there with the greatest that Mr. Connery gave in terms of entertainment value, and it is deeper and more complicated than that of The Great Scot.

After four Brosnan films, each of which were more implausible and over-the-top than their predecessor, the 007 franchise has experienced a 180 degree turn with Craig at the wheel. CASINO ROYALE starts before any of the other Bond films, as the Ian Flemming book was the first of the series. After a stunningly gorgeous and exciting black-and-white opening sequence, in which we see how Bond becomes a 00 agent, the traditional title sequence ensues. I won't delve into it too deeply, I'll just say it is very, very entertaining. It should be noticed that the credits refer to the film as "Ian Fleming's CASINO ROYALE", and this is exactly that. Gone are the save-the-world plots, the ridiculous gadgets, and the monstrous(ly unentertaining) action scenes that overshadowed the story over the last several entries into the series. Bond is a 'blunt instrument', as M (Judi Dench) puts it, and this film shows why.

In CASINO ROYALE, Craig pushes the artistic envelope in a role that has become more action-oriented over the years. He takes the role seriously but is still entertaining as hell, and that is the main reason why the film as a whole is so good. Surprisingly, the action, which other than Bond's name is the reason the series has been so successful, is the element that holds CASINO ROYALE back from true greatness. There are some truly spectacular scenes (the black-and-white beginning, an on-foot chase scene between Bond and a bombmaker in The Bahamas), but the action lingers too long in others. The real glue that holds the picture together is Bond's interaction not only with his new License to Kill, but with British Treasury agent Vesper Lynd (a beautiful Eva Green) sent to watch over him while he spends the country's money in a high stakes poker game at Casino Royale in Montenegro. There, Bond faces off with Le Chieffe (Mads Mikkelsen), a financer of terrorist organizations who is in a pinch for cash. The poker scene, and a torture scene afterward involving Le Chieffe and a very much naked Bond are climactic and terribly exciting.

Where my interest began to slip was after these scenes. The interaction between Bond and Lynd could have wrapped up quickly and seemlessly, but director Martin Campbell and screenwriters Neal Purvis and Robert Wade drag the film for too long, seemingly to include one action sequence (an unneeded one) and a possible sense of continuity for later Bond entries, which isn't needed. If the 144-minute film had been cut down to a leaner 105 minutes or so, it would have probably been the best entry of the franchise yet (which would be saying something). Nevertheless, CASINO ROYALE should be seen for Craig's dynamite performance and for a darker, grittier, sexier look at what made James become Bond.

A-

Robert Altman, Dead at 81

He's gone. One of the greatest and most artistically brilliant directors of all-time is dead at 81. I hope he knows that he made many people happy, and may that help him rest in peace.

On November 28th

M*A*S*Hed

This is going in the school paper, so I figured it would be good enough to post here.

What it's like being M*A*S*Hed

by Tim Strain

Thursday, November 16th, Opening Night

I'm exhausted already. It's been a long day already, with a trip to Bowdoin College and a lot of restless attempts to sleep on the bus. I couldn't sleep last night, probably didn't get more than five hours. How could I? It's my first non-musical show at the high school, and I'm nervous. I've been groggy all day and had to slug through it all with red eyes tinted with the eye liner and mascara that I couldn't get off after last night's dress rehearsal. I stay after school to do 'the work' that I have no time for after the show. Surprise, surprise, that plan got axed. Instead of working hard like I promised myself I would, I end up listening to music for three hours. At 5:15, the cast arrives. The Diva Himself, Zach McCoubry, rolls in with his purple aviators. Marcus Strout blares the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Megan Curtis and her mom bring in the now-famous pizza bread, a tradition before each show.

And then, the make-up.

Oh god, the make-up. I would rather lick a toilet seat then wear it, but hey, it's important, I'm told. I apply the cake to my face and neck, put on my 'manstick', and Mrs. Mercer applies my eye liner. The butterflies start to kick in as I'm never going to have another M*A*S*H practice again. The realization hurts, in a bittersweet way. I try to keep my cool though, since I'm an upperclassman now and a 'veteran' (isn't that a scary thought...).

Jyselle Joplin yells out "five minutes!" and the electricity in the air surges. Most of the cast is in the cafeteria, which has been deemed the base of operations now that the music room is dark and talking is forbidden, to cut down on the excess volume. Feeling the need to create some sort of new tradition, we throw around an orange until it turns to pulp, and Kavan Gervais gets hit, well, where it hurts. And then the most anticipated/dreaded word of the night rings through: "PLACES!!!!"

We head out on stage, not able to see a thing and hardly able to contain our emotions. Ryan McGowan and Kyle Stetson start the play off with their phone-to-phone scene, and all bets are off; the show has begun. All the hours practicing have come down to this. It goes surprisingly well, with an ensemble cast spitting out their lines quickly, the way it was meant to be acted out.

And like that, it's over. Two months of practicing have come and gone, and the curtain closes on opening night, after only about two hours. We hug each other, laugh our asses off, and all breathe a collective sigh of relief. "That was the hard part", we all try to think. Only four more to go.

Friday, November 17th, Second Night

I bust through the double doors of the Gym Entrance at 5:45, blood surging and mind revitalized after the best nap I've had in a long time. I feel a little streak of cockiness as I walk into the cafeteria and it seems as if it's business as usual: the make-up is out, the costumes are hung, and the music is booming. It's going to be a good night.

I walk through the routine, applying the cake, putting on the man-stick (ahem), and getting the eye liner. Its weird to think of applying make-up as a normal thing, but it really is, especially when I'm pushing my other fellow castmates from the mirror that we're all sharing. I put on my uniform and dog tags, then tie up my boots. The curtain opens again, and it seems to me that tonight is the SparkNotes version of opening night; short, sweet, and to the point. I find myself lieing on the floor, in my position for my first lines. It's like I'm watching something bigger than myself unfold, something whose individual parts are greater than its body as a whole. The two hours are suddenly up, and we're taking our curtain calls. Maybe it was the nap, but I feel like I've just floated through the night. I say bring on tomorrow, back-to-back shows and all that accompanies them.

Saturday, November 18th, Third and Fourth Shows

After a long night of sleep after an eventful Friday, I arrived at the school around 12:30. We were missing about half the cast and our director, mostly from District II Band auditions. Most of the cast that is around is pretty groggy, with not a lot of energy (a matinee after a night show is tough). We sleepwalk through the make-up, get into costume, and pass the time until about 1:40, when the band returns in a frenzy, needing to get ready before places will be called at 1:55. Fortunately, everyone gets ready on time and all goes smoothly.

Except for the crowd.

To be completely honest, this was the worst crowd any of us in the show had ever experienced, and we have some very experienced actors. There was only about forty or fifty people in the auditorium (about three-hundred showed up the night before), and we didn't hear much from them at all. It's tough, and frustrating, to put so much effort into something for as long as we have, and then get nothing back from an audience. The custom after the show is for the actors to jump off the stage to greet/hug/receive compliments from the audience after the show is over. Many of us, myself included, were too pissed off to do so. We just went back to the cafeteria and waited for the nightcap to ensue.

And it did, with a blast. After about three hours of waiting (the first show only took about ninety minutes through curtain calls, thank God), we suited up out boots, tucked in our fatigues, and marched out to the stage in front of a full house. As the curtain opened, I had a good view of the crowd, which from the get-go I could tell was livelier and more energetic than that of the afternoon. This couldn't have been more of a relief. Personally, I could barely stifle a smile that came naturally after the crowd laughed at a few of my jokes, which the afternoon crowd hadn't. 98% of the play ran smoothly (I messed up one line-DOH!) and by the end, we were all in a great mood. We all went optimistically (though drained after back-to-back performances) into the thought process for the next day. It's pretty odd to think of it as the beginning of the end.

Sunday, November 19th, The Finale

That's the show, folks. I'm sitting here now, in the music room, as the set is being struck. M*A*S*H is over, and there is barely any evidence that it ever existed. Not here anyway. We are all in our street clothes, with the costumes already wrapped up, and the stage is almost completely empty. The pizza party is going to start in about a half hour, and that will really be the nail in the coffin. We'll sign each other's posters, which will hang on many off our walls, and then we will exchange good-bye hugs, as if we aren't going to see each other every single day for the rest of the year.

As for the show, it ran prety smoothly. We know it inside-out by now, although that only goes a certain length during The Event. There were plenty of stumbles and screw-ups, but by this point we were laughing at them afterward, instead of stressing over them. I don't want to get too sappy, but it's been a great time. In two hours we will all be out of the building and back in the real world. I've got Spanish to work on and believe me, I won't have much energy or focus tonight. When I start stressing about that though, I'll sit back, take a deep breath, and close my eyes. I'll smile as I think about the new friendships that have formed, the old ones that have been solidified, the script we all hated, and the laughs we all shared. It's been an up-and-down ride, but hey, that's show business.

MULHOLLAND DRIVE

"I'm scared like I can't tell you. Of all people, you're standing right over there, by that counter. You're in both dreams and you're scared. I get even more frightened when I see how afraid you are and then I realize what it is. There's a man... in back of this place. He's the one who's doing it. I can see him through the wall. I can see his face. I hope that I never see that face, ever, outside of a dream."

MULHOLLAND DRIVE opens with what may be a dream, and closes with what may be a dream. I guess it's possible that the middle is just a dream as well. When a film is as abstract and filled with so many possibilites as MULHOLLAND DRIVE is, it will have many critics who claim it doesn't matter and it's pointless (which it does). There are also those who will believe that it is a landmark film. I believe the latter.

It is fitting that the film takes place in Los Angeles, often called the City of Dreams. Sometimes these dreams blossom, but more often than not they crash and burn into a sea of yesterday, nostalgia, and the forgotten. Here Betty Elms (Naomi Watts), a young woman who has recently flown into Los Angeles to stay at her aunt's home for a film audition, is introduced to us. We know nothing of Betty's past, only of the dreams she has for her future. She is a typical aspiring actress; wide-eyed, beautiful, and with a smile that won't go away until reality hits (or in this case, disintegrates).

When she arrives at her aunt's vacant home, she is surprised to find a woman living there. Rita (Laura Harring) is an amnesiac, a woman who has been in a car accident and can not remember anything other than 'Mulholland Drive'. It is time for me to step back and stop analyzing this film for a moment and speak completely from my heart. When these girls, Watts and Harring, are on-screen together, they create sparks. There is an eroticism and a simultaneous sense of innocence shared mutually between them, and it feels real when I watch them share scenes. As both of the characters slowly fall in love with the other, and are scared not only because of this unfamiliar feeling, but because of their surroundings as well, Watts and Harring both show unbelievable depth for actresses as inexperienced as they were at the time when the film came out.

If this review would suggest to this point that MULHOLLAND DRIVE is a straight-forward romance, or a straight-forward anything really, let me say clearly that it is not. It is one of the most twisted, complex, horrifying, and beautiful works of this decade's cinema. David Lynch loses himself in the multiple stories, and as the film progresses it gets increasingly twisted, and every minute is better and more mesmerizing than the last. While the wide-eyed dreams of Hollywood are shown through the eyes of Betty, the hard truth is shown through the eyes of Adam Kesher (Justin Theroux). Kesher is a director, whose film falls into the hands of the wrong business associates. Although his story is told in a surreal, detached way that I can not explain in words, it feels oddly realistic, because business deals happen under the table and behind closed doors in Hollywood every day, and their entire existence can seem to have vanished the next.

As I said earlier, as the film progresses it becomes more and more twisted. Because Lynch dares to free himself from all types of traditional narrative flow and storytelling styles, MULHOLLAND DRIVE soars. It is a credit to the actors that they do not become overwhelmed and their characters completely up-ended by the storyline at the film's end, although by the time the curtain falls no one is as they were before. The deeper down the rabbit hole MULHOLLAND DRIVE digs, the better it gets, until a transcending, awe-inspiring finale.

A+

50, 50 Link

THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY

"Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. We're gonna have to earn it."

Sergio Leone's epic 'Man With No Name' trilogy came to a triumphant, booming close in his 1966 masterpiece THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY. Clint Eastwood, Eli Wallach, and Lee Van Cleef are all in peak condition, and are as entertaining as any trio of characters in the illustrious history of westerns. While Eastwood has gotten the most credit as well as top billing for the film (after all, it did propel him in to the echelon of living legend), the real star of THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY is Eli Wallach. Over the three Man With No Name films his character Tuco became more and more dispicably entertaining, until he finally stole the spotlight in the climax. Wallach is over-the-top, both in actions and physically characteristics. The other two characters compliment him perfectly; with Van Cleef playing the icy cool and equally cruel Angel Eyes, and of course Eastwood's eternally badass Blondie.

THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY is basically a chase film at heart. It is about these three crusty caricatures chasing down a hidden purse of $200,000 worth of gold buried in a graveyard. The only thing that keeps these three from killing each other is the fact that they need the information the others have, or else no money. Leone masterfully orchestrates his 161-minute epic into what seems like completely different stories. The antics and scenarios are priceless, and there are plenty of them. The story switches from headhunting, Civil War battles, vicious executions, vintage shoot-outs, and chases through the desert, but you can hardly tell by how fast the story as a whole moves along. Leone masterfully shot and edited this spaghetti classic, and its status as one of the most entertaining and influential westerns made in the second half of the twentieth century is obvious from the beginning to the end.

A+

SPIDER-MAN 3 stuff!

If you read my post about my 15 most anticipated movies of '07 (go down the page if you haven't), you'll see I put SPIDER-MAN 3 in the #1 slot. Well, here's a couple of trailers and pics to get my (and yours, if you know what's good for you) juices flowing some more.

The Comic-Con Trailer, With Some Interesting Unfinished Material (Awesome)

The Press Release Trailer (Also awesome)

Sexy Time!

BORAT! CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN

"Jagshemash! My name Borat. I like you. I like sex. Is nice!"

BORAT! CULTURAL LEARNINGS OF AMERICA FOR MAKE BENEFIT GLORIOUS NATION OF KAZAKHSTAN (We'll call it B!CLOAFMBGNOK for short--NOT!) is an incindiary comedy. The now-everywhere-known Sacha Baron Cohen's turn as the titular character is a piece of genius, a brilliant performance hiding behind a happily inept face.

Taken from his cult HBO show DA ALI G SHOW, Cohen's Borat is a breathtakingly funny character, an anti-Semetic, homophobic, woman rights-bashing reporter from Kazakhstan who comes to America to film a documentary to aid his government's fight for better social services. Along with his sidekick Azamat Bagatov, a grossly hairy and overweight piece of comedic brilliance himself, Borat goes on across America, taking pokes (sometimes stabs) at the ineptitude of nearly everyone he meets.

Believe me when I say this, almost everyone who cares about common societal issues will come out offended, if not completely pissed-off, after seeing BORAT. The shamelessy (but not really mean-spiritedly) stupid issues that Cohen brings up in his interviews with different groups of people across the country are screamingly funny, but maybe even more eye-opening. Jews, rednecks, women, men, Arabs, Muslims, Kazakhstanis, Americans, bears, gypsies, and anyone with siblings could have an argument in saying this is a hateful film. The way that these groups are for the most part represented by real people (or real animals, in the bears' case) though, should say something about our country. The truth is, the joke is on us, America.

It of course has to be said clearly, that while Borat is a made-up sketch by Cohen and director Larry Charles (of SEINFELD fame), the footage is real. After asking a Southern gun dealer what kind of gun would be the best to ‘defend against’ a jew, the dealer responds “probably a 9 millimeter or a .45.”

The movie that Cohen and Charles have made is a landmark in comedy, both in its content and storytelling, and in the buzz it has caused around the world. No comedy has ever been as controversial. More than a month before anyone had ever seen it, it had already created a buzz not only on the internet, but between governments. The Kazakhi government, fuming over how their people are viewed as idiotic imbreds, has demanded the film not be shown (it has, and has made over $67 million in just ten days). Since it was released, three civil suits have been filed against the creative team of the film, and don’t be surprised if more are to follow. The film has had multi-page spreads in Time Magazine and Newsweek, and was dubbed as the ‘funniest movie ever made’ on the cover of Entertainment Weekly. Hey, they could be right.

A+ (High Five!)

Wow, Bob Dylan Kicked Seven Different Kinds of Ass

Last night the tremendously triumphant trio of Kyle the Killer, Cory the Cornificious, and I saw Bob Dylan and The Raconteurs live at the Civic Center. It was sickkkkkkkkk, to put it bluntly.

I've never been a die-hard fan of Bobby D. I've never really been a die-hard fan of any band or artist in my entire life. Movies are my thing, not music. I played guitar on-and-off for a couple years, but I haven't touched one (or thought about one until this post) for a few months.

But last night I was fucking captivated. I've always kind of wanted to go to a concert, but I've never really wanted to see a current band that is cheap enough to go to (of course I'd kill, or at least pay several hundred dollars, to see Zeppelin, The Doors, and Jimi Hendrix). Last night though I got my concierto cherry popped by a living legend, none other than Mr. Robert Allan Zimmerman. That's Bob Dylan to you.

Kyle and I left practice early to get pick up Cory and take the long trip to Portland and get good seats (general admission, bitches). Well, we did. A bunch of nut-jobs who got there before we did ended up hundreds of feet away from The Main Attraction in the bleachers and the nosebleed seats, while we were twenty feet away from a living legend. As retarded as it was, my friends and I couldn't stop screaming "OH MY EFFING CHRIST THAT'S BOB FUCKING DYLAN!!!!" every thirty seconds or so.

As it was my first concert, it was my first experience with a concert audience. There was girls, there were drunk guys, there were Arabs named Abe, and there was weed. I haven't done weed since the summer, and it was kind of a rush getting the contact from the community joint, which I wouldn't have turned down had it gotten passed to me before some jackass father "trying to look out for his young children" (nine isn't that young there, douchebag), stomped it out. I could definitely feel the buzz on the ride home though. For God's sake, we laughed at drinking water for forty-five minutes.

And of course, the music was amazing. I didn't really know what to expect since it was my first concert. A few days ago The Guns and Roses cancelled their concert in Portland only two hours before it was supposed to start, and I know that 50 Cent once played for 20 minutes in front of 9,000 people who had payed over $75 per ticket, so I knew it was supposed to last for a while. The Raconteurs, the opening band, played for over an hour. The lead singer/guitarist is Jack White, leader of the White Stripes, which I found out afterward. He and the other singer were great, both of them were into it and had some stage presence. They played nine or ten songs and then closed up for intermission.

And then, we waited.

Oh God intermission sucked. I was tired, I was sore, I had to go to the bathroom, and I was surrounded by a bunch of sweaty strangers with no music playing. And yeah, it lasted for about an hour.

But then, he came.

I can’t say that I was overly excited when Bob came on stage. I had just suffered through an hour with no music, unable to sit down or stretch my legs, and by God it smelled like shit. Hundreds of people bunched together doesn't add up to a good smell, you know. I was pretty cranky when Bobby D finally hit the stage, I even thought about leaving. After a few songs though, the crowd got into it, and I was lured in. I'm not the biggest fan, and I don't know most of his lyrics, but I had fun. There were probably a dozen joints being passed around the crowd, and though I never touched one, I definitely felt the effect. I felt light and happy, and the music was awesome, even if I couldn't comprehend what Dylan was saying. He played a dozen songs and then came out for a three-song encore, which made the crowd go nuts. It was an awesome night. Definitely worth my mom's $54.

Enough of 2006, give me some '07 Goodness!

We're not quite through with the mediocre 2006 yet, but here's a look ahead at my fifteen most anticipated releases (possible releases, I should say) of 2007.

15. RATATOUILLE (Brad Bird)
I won’t go over Pixar’s past, because you know it. I won’t delve too deeply into how Brad Bird is doing this as a personal favor, which is totally cool in my opinion (can you comprehend how much time and pain-staking effort it takes to make an animated movie at the quality level that Pixar works at?). And shouldn’t we all know by now, with the dozen or so movies this year about them, that talking animals are funny? No clever caption available.

14. OCEAN'S THIRTEEN (Steven Soderberg)
The gang’s all back. For all the hate it gets online and among the masses, I really couldn’t help but like OCEAN'S TWELVE. No, it’s not as good as ELEVEN, but I think it would have been kind of silly to expect that. Al Pacino has pulled up a chair at the table for this one and I couldn’t be happier. They’re supposedly shooting this one at a WB backlot instead of on-location (both the first two were), but I don’t think that will be as big of a handicap as everyone else thinks. The real truth is casinos are kind of nasty places, but besides, George, Matt, Brad, and others all know how to have some fun and put it on to the screen.

13. AVATAR (James Cameron)
The self-entitled "King of the World" certainly knows how to weave a good story with gargantuan budgets that I've enjoyed (TERMINATOR 2, TITANIC, THE ABYSS, etc.), so the only reason this isn't higher on the list is because of the sypnosis. If I'm correct, its an epic that takes place in the very far-off future (I want to say 10,000 A.D.?), involving a teenage girl named Avatar who rescues the universe or something. Maybe it will be the greatest sci-fi western epic since STAR WARS, or maybe the ten years away from the movie business, the rumor that the movie will be entirely animated in the same way as THE POLAR EXPRESS, and the $315 million budget will get to Cameron's head, and we'll get another BATTLFIELD EARTH. One thing's for sure though, the final product is going to be everywhere.

12. PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: AT WORLD'S END (Gore Verbinski)
Okay, DEAD MAN'S CHEST was the worst movie of the summer, but the first was still pretty great. I hope the creative team doesn’t go overboard again for this one and completely ruin the franchise, as well as Depp’s first performance (which is the reason everyone loves the movies anyway), turning it into the 2000’s version of Schumacher’s BATMAN movies. Who knows though, maybe it will able to buckle some of my swashes (Christ, that’s an awful saying).

11. GUERILLA (Steven Soderberg)
The changing of the title from “CHE” to the here-to-stay “GUERILLA” seems to me to be an indicator that Soderberg and Benicio Del Toro (who won an Oscar for TRAFFIC, their last collaboration) that they aren’t going to pussy around with Che Guevara’s life. This was not a perfect man, a revolutionary who while did bring plenty of positive change to the world, he was responsibile for the murder of thousands.RESPECT

10. THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM (Paul Greengrass)
The first BOURNE was good, the second was great. Greengrass knows how to shoot tension (yeah, if you haven’t seen UNITED 93, its time to), and that’s what the spy world is really about. Don’t expect anything close to the book, since the first couple pretty much disregarded them. What you should expect is another great performance from Matt Damon, who has really turned this role into something personal, and it has in turn shot his career through the roof. Joan Allen and Julia Stiles are both back, and Patty Considine, David Strathairn, and Gael Garcia Bernal are all on board, which is awesome. Too bad Brian Cox had to eat it in SUPREMACY, I really love the guy.

09. YOUTH WITHOUT YOUTH (Francis Ford Coppola)
The guy made THE GODFATHER, APOCALYPSE NOW, and THE CONVERSATION. Then again, he made Jack. I don’t know what to expect. I’ll just hope this WWI-era period piece will be a return to form.

08. 300 (Zack Snyder)
The once thought to be unprovable theory that the ancient civilians of Sparta only knew how to scream “Sparta”, in different keys and volumes, has now been proved in Zack Snyder’s new documentary 300. This certainly looks like its going to be a great year for scream-filled, testosterone-driven man-movies.”Do you, ah, like gladiator movies?”

07. THE KINGDOM (Peter Berg)
Peter Berg’s 2004 FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS was a crushingly emotional masterpiece. His work on it showed me that he has the eye of a possible great filmmaker, and if this is as good as its cast (Jamie Foxx-who I have a total gay for, Chris Cooper, an ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT-free Jason Bateman, and Jennifer Garner), then his celebrity status should be cemented. The premise is a bit shallow, with a team of U.S. government agents being sent in to explor the bombing of an American facility in Iraq, but hey, did FNL’s story sound so deep on paper?

06. SOUTHLAND TALES (Richard Kelly)
Get this: it’s a post-nuclear-apocalyptic future, and the United States is now under marshal law and those Commy Russians are hell-bent on killing off the rest of us. Who do we call? An action movie star (The Rock-fitting), a pornstar (Sarah Michelle Gellar-very fitting), and twin DEA agents (Seann William Scott-I think ‘entertaining’ is a better word than ‘fitting’). Sounds like Dr. Seuss on crack, and it’s got DONNIE DARKO creator Richard Kelly at the wheel. Awesome.

05. HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX (David Yates)
Although they get talked about way too much, I can’t deny that the HARRY POTTER movies have gotten better and better with each installment. While the first three movies all had something missing, I think ‘perfect’ was the best word I could use to describe the time I had in THE GOBLET OF FIRE. It was great fantasy moviemaking, and I wish they had stuck with Mike Newell as the director. They picked out another nobody for Numero Cinco (David Yates, anyone?), but the rest of the gang is here, and everyone is getting better in their roles (Oh Dan, Emma, and Rupert, how we have all grown up), so I have faith it will be better than its predecessors.Not from HARRY POTTER

04. GRINDHOUSE (Quentin Tarantino/Robert Rodriguez)
The Man-Fest of the Year! QT and Bobby Rod are the coolest kids on the block when it comes to presenting the ugly underbelly of crime in a gleefully violent and giddily entertaining way (I don’t have to delve into their filmographies, do I?), and here they both have complete artistic freedom. Imagine if SNAKES ON A PLANE had actually fully given in to being a camp classic, and this is what I envision the double-feature (three hours) sleazefest awesomeness of PLANET TERROR and DEATH PROOF is going to be! Can You Fucking Comprehend This??!!! Danny Trejo! Kurt Russel! Naked chicks! Chicks with fucking grenade launching machine guns for legs! Motorcycle-mounted mini-guns (the mini-gun has always been a desperately underused piece of cinematic art in my opinion!) Red-band trailers for even more exploitation films that don’t actually exist, but you know you want them to! Can you even speak of this without exclamation points?Sup.

03. THE ASSASINATION OF JESSE JAMES BY THE COWARD ROBERT FORD (Andrew Dominik)
Apparently, this won’t be good. It’s gotten pushed back to spring 2007 (gasp!) and there have been artistic indifferences between the director and Brad Pitt (oh God nooo!!). Well the same thing happened to TITANIC (original July 4th release, with a reasonable $125 million budget), and this year’s V FOR VENDETTA, both of which were terrific films. Whatever, says I. There’s going to be a Peckinpah/Deadwood/Proposition-type of gritty visuals and grittier characters supposedly, which is great. Pitt can definitely pull off the greatest antihero of the old west, and Casey Ford was a good pick for the most infamous man to ever put a bullet in his mentor’s back. Ted Levine and Sam Rockwell are also involved, which can’t hurt. Plus, the trailer is just eery-good, it still gives me chills.

02. TREE OF LIFE (Terrence Malick)
Not much is known about this project, which is supposedly Malick’s most ambitious vision yet (which would be something reeeaaallllyyyy ambitious). The project was introduced by Malick around the time that DAYS OF HEAVEN came out (‘78), which was only his second movie. He then took off twenty years from the business only to pop back up by making the one of the supreme film accomplishments of the ‘90s (THE THIN RED LINE, which was better than SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, as well as every other movie of 1998). It took him seven more years to make THE NEW WORLD, so the real question I’m asking is whether or not he would make two movies within two calendar years of each other. The rumors floating around the web are that Colin Farrel and Mel Gibson are to star in the movie, and that it is currently filming in India. That’s about all I’ve got; two stars, no plot sypnosis, and the fact that Malick is involved. But does there really have to be anything more than that name to get me to see this?Genius.

01. SPIDER-MAN 3 (Sam Raimi)
Ah Peter, how I await thee so. The progression of Peter Parker, Spidey, MJ, Harry, and various villains (there are a rumored four in SM3) has certainly gotten my attention from the trailer. SPIDER-MAN was an ok movie, a nice little popcorn-muncher without much depth and decent CGI (seeing Spidey spin through The City was great, but it lacked in other areas, and The Green Goblin was a monstrosity), but it didn’t have anything on SPIDER-MAN 2. Underseen (well, there were $30 million less worth of tickets sold, and its hard to say that anything that grosses north of $370 mil is underseen), in terms of cultural significance and buzz among the cineplexes, the ‘04 sequel was a marvel of a movie.

Where SPIDER-MAN was good, SPIDER-MAN 2 was great. Where it had faults, the sequel didn’t. Pete’s moral anguishes over MJ and the whole ‘great responsibility’ thing were done as well as any comic book movie before it (the drama was only eclipsed by SUPERMAN RETURNS, and BATMAN BEGINS, although overall it is a better movie than BEGINS). I can see number 3 being the best of the bunch. I hope Fox is giving Raimi full artistic control (although I’d be naîve to think they would, with hundreds of millions riding on it), because he’ll spin a great story. With all the new characters being introduced (Topher Grace as Eddie Brock, Thomas Hayden Chuch as The Sandman, and Bryce Dallas Howard as the new girl on Peter’s block), as well as Harry possibly starting where his father lefted off as the Green Goblin and Pete and MJ being full-fledged lovebirds, the drama is certainly there. I haven’t read the comics (for shame, I know), but the symbiote takeover of Peter/Spidey looks to heighten the drama, and Raimi knows how to counter-balance the drama (which can get silly damn easily) by injecting some bona-fide great jokes in the story (the lack of which hurt BATMAN BEGINS’ entertainment value). Sounds like something to me."I'll eat your face, bitch!"

And there you have it.

So Yeah...I'm on a DEPARTED High

I just got back from my second time at THE DEPARTED, and it got better the second time around.

A lot fuckin better.

Its a full-fledged, bona-fide masterpiece, right up there with Scorsese's essential RAGING BULL for me. Its a goddamn amazingly entertaining movie, with manly bravado mixed with hilarious back-and-forth name calling, two romantic, not sappy love stories (that actually were essential to the plot, not just filler), and a complex storyline. I picked up on a lot more things this time around (which I won't go into because I wouldn't ever want to spoil a movie this good), and I appreciate the screenplay and the characters now even moreso than I did after the first time I saw it. The performances are all Oscar-worthy, from Leo (who has finally gotten the perfect role that should confirm his status as one of the best actors, young or old, working in Hollywood today), Matt Damon (see above), Marky Mark, Martin Sheen (who couldn't have worked on a better follow-up project to THE WEST WING), the beautiful and intelligent Vera Farmiga (who deserves to have a shot at stardom after this performance), and yes of course, Jack. Its funny to me though, I think Jack may have been the weakest link of the movie. He definitely wasn't bad, in fact I think he deserves a 27th Oscar nod (or whatever the number is at this point), and at this point in the year I would give him the win, because his performance is such an interesting, unique, and one-of-a-kind take on Frank, who really could have been Just Another Mob Boss. I think Jack's being the weak link is really a testament to the rest of the performances, and how everybody gave it their all, crawled into their characters' skin, and went to town.

Where I thought Marty Scorsese had taken a misstep or two the first time I saw the movie, I saw in this viewing the genius of his direction. I'm going to have to crack a bit and spoil a minor plot point here, so don't read the rest of the sentence if you haven't seen it: when Frank (Jack) talks to his various girlfriends/flings/ho's, he kind of got carried away with things, but now I'm seeing how the communication between him and the women around him was used as a metaphor of types for how his mind, and grip of control on the people and places around him, were starting to unspiral. Genius.

I love this movie. It's way way up there on my best movies of all time list, not just my favorite. What a kick-ass piece of entertainment/art. Here's a few pics to admire.


Plus, go here to hear to hilarious sound clips that someone managed to get on to the web.