It has finally happened. After multiple years, I have made the long journey from absolutely hating Sean Paul to liking him in an ironic way (or at least liking to yell "SEAN PAAAUL!" in Caribbean patois) to yesterday. I was buying sweet kicks at the Puma store--I decided I wanted shoes so cool I could get murdered on the street for them like classic Jordans--and they just played the Sean Paul's Dutty Rock record over the loudspeakers, because the Puma Store actually hires a full-time DJ to spin. And I enjoyed myself immensely. So that's how I spent my Memorial Day, which is a long way from when I beat the snot out of his virtual image in Def Jam Vendetta.
I also decided that Memorial Day evenings require a movie, but since I will not pay full price to see Brett Ratner take huge, expensive craps on successful franchises (X-Men 3), I decided Monica and I could visit our local arthouse theater for some highly-reviewed entertainment. Arthouse theaters are like mainstream theaters, if the mainstream theater was a run-down hellhole with filthy bathrooms, French posters on the walls and if they sold $6 brownies and pastries instead of popcorn. And the ticket prices remain an astronomical $10.75 each. Oh, and they also they don't know how their soundsystem works, so it's always around 200% too loud. Which for movies like The Proposition actually makes them all the better...
I wanted to take Monica on an old-fashionedy dinner and a movie date to The Proposition 'cause it was reviewed as a really good, old-fashionedy oater (Western) with slow Australian vistas and the high point: a screenplay written by the one and only Nick Cave, of the Bad Seeds fame, who also did the soundtrack. Well it turns out Nick Cave is one sick bastard, because The Proposition turned out to be one of the most shocking and violent things I've seen in a year or so. Hostel could learn a thing or two from it, so I expect Eli Roth to take notes. At one point a guy gets speared in the chest, looks down at the spear, vomits a bucket of blood and then points his rifle at the Aboriginal warrior who speared him and shoots half his head off in an explosive mess. All this takes place in less than 3 seconds. Make no mistake, this movie pulls no punches.
But despite the violence and pure shock factor for which I apologized (I honestly have no idea), we both really enjoyed the movie and I strongly suggest you get to seeing it. It has a hunky post-Memento Guy Pearce with a scraggly beard and long hair, beautiful Australian cinematics, a storyline that uniquely touches on imperialist racism posing as law and order, and one of the most touching endings I have ever seen in any film ever. Which then makes me kind of jealous of people like Nick Cave, who can just magically write a screenplay after a career in music and it's one of the best things I've seen all year. Some people have all the skill.
I dunno if it's playing in Omaha. But if it is, y'all should go see it.
So.
This was like a month ago, but I figured I would still raise my issues with The OC. I will not be watching the fourth season. Not that I even know how they're going to do that with multiple narratives taking place in different spaces; from a screenwriting perspective that alone is a nightmare. Too bad for people who go to RISD, like, say, Emily, because they may just have to deal with people saying "Seth Cohen goes there!" (if they've even been watching, which lower ratings suggest they haven't). I mean at least when people link NYU with the Olsens or whoever those are real people. It must be even more annoying for fictional characters. Like when I lived in the dorm that FELICITY used to. Aka Kerri Russel. Hell yes.
Jack Bauer still managed to save the day with his cute little messenger bag (and I forgot how to spell messenger there for about three minutes), wasn't that sweet? Except now he's going to China. Sounds like fun.
Now that all my shows have ended, what will Tivo record? We've got daytime TV options a plenty, for which I have set up a filter to record Maury, but only when the title involves "Paternity test". Those are always the best. And it's not like I have any time anyway, now that I work from 9 to 5 and have class from 6 to 10 (with one of my New York reviewer idols, which should be fun). But if I did have time, I'd probably write about how my room is officially Down South.
And I'd write the weekly word of the month (which would shock and amaze with it's illogical title alone): Philistine. And then you'd have to wonder what that meant in relation to my current situation. And then I'd just note that I won't be back to Omaha until early August at the earliest. Maybe.
Summer sure is nuts.
SEAAAAN POLLLL!
Blogging from work continues to be one of those great pleasures, kind of like surfing Craigslist, ordering DVDs online, posting ebay auctions, buying bootleg cult DVDs online, reading Gawker, reading Alan Moore graphic novels (V for Vendetta, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, etc.) and whatever else I actually get paid to sit here and do. And now that we have an air conditioner in here, we are so money.
With finals out the way, it's time to get started on my 10 day summer break. 6 of which are spent workin'. Then its back to school for classes like "A Brief History of Pop Culture Sexuality" or "Movies of the Bush Jr. Era", taught by a critic idol of mine (not A.O. Scott, but another New Yorker). CHYEEAAH. Summer gon' get me graduated early. June 2007, in fact.
I hope there might be a week this summer where I can get back to Omaha and rock with it proper, but it might not be until late June, or July, or even August.
BRIEF MOVIE NOTES from this week:
Big Mommas House 2 - actually surprisingly kinda funny, in a very ridiculous and kinda offensive way. But still. It's good to see Martin Lawrence get work separate of Will Smith, especially after Rebound...
Art School Confidential - Max Minghella cant act his way out of a box, the romance is trite, the first half is funny, the second half is not. Entertaining but merely OK, definitely not as good as Zwigoff's other movies, i.e. Crumb, Ghost World or even Bad Santa.
This next week Monica and I will hopefully be seeing The Death of Mr. Lazerescu, Mission: Impossible 3: BODY THETANS ATTACK, V for Vendetta, Thank You For Smoking... and paying for 1-2 of those. Sharpen up them sneak-in sneakers...
I have been almost overwhelmed with thoughts of all the things I hope to create this summer, so rest assured that no matter where I am, there should be a strong output of music, films and writing for these months. I know you all can't wait.