The Bourne Ultimatum - I for one choose death

Why? I've been asking myself this question a lot lately. But never more so than with all the hype and great reviews and unflinching adoration and loyalty surrounding the Bourne Ultimatum. On one IMBD post one paramecium brained writer states that Ultimatum is the best movie he's seen in a looooonnnnnnnnng time. I sincerely pity this poor movie goer, as he's probably wallowed in the muck of such films as Spider Man 3 and Shrek 3.

But back to why. Why? Because these three letters could solve a lot of Hollywood's rut.

Why make the Bourne Ultimatum almost identical to the Bourne Supremacy?

Why re-use lines from the previous two movies? (i.e. "Look at what they make you give.")

Why is the CIA operative in Spain even talking to the reporter?

Why is the reporter assassinated in the open?

Why is there absolutely no one in the CIA who can string together even the tiniest iota of intelligence and deduce simple conclusions?

Why hint at a past with Julia Stiles character Nicky when it obviously doesn't fit with the first two films?

Ok, I'll stop, but I could go on for hours. This movie was such an abysmal failure, I'm ashamed of Matt Damon. For a Harvard educated writer, he should know better. There is very little causality leading to ridiculous amounts of precipitous actions, that this is one discombobulated mess of a movie. I will note that the one attempt they do give at causality is with Nicky. Why would she help Bourne? The writers give us some half-a$$ed, lame attempt at a subtle hint of a relationship that occurred between Bourne and Nicky. What? She is not a trained killer, yet she hands out the assignment to have him killed mercilessly in the Bourne Identity. She NEVER even mentions their history in the Supremacy when he has a gun to her head. It's so juvenile and moronic. It's a gimmick. And any dim-witted teenager could have come up with it.

But the action is cool. And the fight scenes are sweet. And the car chase is rad.

BUT WE SAW ALL THAT IN THE FIRST TWO MOVIES! And there were far too many holes in the Bourne Supremacy as it was.

There was no progression here. No development of characters. Luckily Damon, Joan Allen, and David Straitham are great actors, because the dialog in this movie is so cliched and self aware, it physically hurt me.

Exchanges like:

Pamela Landy: When does the killing stop?
Noah Vosen: Until we win!

Monkeys can fling their feces onto paper and create better dialog and stories. I only paid $6 but that was still too much. To anybody who reads this, don't waste your money. Just rent the Bourne Supremacy. It's way better than the ripoff that is the Bourne Ultimatum.

Oh, and one more thing: THIS MOVIE WAS AWFUL!!!

Apocolypto and other observations

First, Apocolypto. Now, I avoided seeing this when it first came out because I thought, who wants to see a dude running naked in the jungle? Now for some of you faithful readers, I'm sure there are those that are jumping up and down right now with your hand proudly thrust high in the air, "Me, me, I do, I do". Fair enough. But, after all of these reviews came back saying Mel may have personal problems but the boy can make great films, I thought, well, I'll rent it then.

Lesson learned - I should stick with my gut, judging a book by its cover, 'cause it hasn't failed me yet. The movie didn't suck, it was beautifully shot, great cinematography, and some pretty sweet action scenes. But it was boring, ridiculously slow in a few long chunks, and pretty uninteresting. Although, there is one scene where a woman gives birth to a baby in water and we see the kid shoot out like a torpedo. That was pretty awsellent. Not quite sweetastic, but still awesellent.

Random thoughts and observations

I hate cab drivers. They drive like the world is their own personal bumper car ride. And they are almost always foreign...except for the coked up driver we had in Atlantic City. Nevertheless, I always hear about how these drivers were doctors in their home countries and they come here and have to drive cabs. So what do we learn from this? Doctors make the worst drivers.

(((Disclaimer: the following is merely an observation not an endorsement, opinion, view, or anything of the sort, just pointing out some faulty logic)))

I read an article (article is a bit of a stretch) but the headline snagged me, mostly because it had sex in the title. Basically it asked three men and three women their views on sex occurring early on in the relationship. It was funny because two of the women were talking about how women should hold out on sex because if that's all he's after then he won't stick around. The whole why buy the cow when you get the milk for free. Or if you do it too early the relationship will only be about sex. Now, I find that wonderfully bassackwards and void of logic. They take sex, wrap it up in a box and keep it under a Sexmas tree for the man to long after, and the relationship is not supposed to be about sex? Silly rabbits. Sounds like they could use an adventure with Dora the Sexplorer.

Why are black people better at EVERY sport? I have been going to Sport Rock now at least once a week for the past several weeks, and there is this one chick there, Jasmine, who is unreal. She twists her body in so many different ways, I think her pops was a pretzel and her mom was Venus Williams. Anyway, she just glides so naturally along the wall. More so than anybody else I've seen in there, the sole exception being one of the instructors, Gerrick. Oh well, I'll just wait for black people to overtake hockey any day now.

Speaking of Sport Rock, my hands and forearms are so unbelievably weak...I am laughing otherwise I'd be weeping. But I will say this, I think I am the heaviest person that climbs at Sport Rock, so if you put my forearms and hands on any other climber they would kick some wall a$$.

Why do ribs take so long to heal? It's been almost a month since I bruised my ribs and they still kill. On the bright side, it gives me an excuse to pop Vicodin like candy. Loopy Fat Kid makes for great entertainment. It's a win/win.

Cereal Wars - The Battle for Deep Fryer Dominance

So, there are several reasons I love cooking - blending flavors to make a dish pop, sizzle, sing and initiate a gastrogasm when it hits your tongue; taking a concept to a completed plate; the intensity of a chaotic kitchen getting everything done and your entire focus is on one particular task at any given time; and of course curious experimentation.

Sunday was one of those days. First, it was chicken wings. Why have I never made chicken wings before? I have a deep fryer. But I don't have Hooter's girls to serve them to me, so that might explain part of it. Anyway, I decided to make a chipotle based sauce, and I gotta say, the wings were phenomenal! I don't care what anyone says, I loved them, and for those that know me, I very rarely like my own food enough to say I love anything. I don't know if I would have changed much, if anything at all. I think the guests agreed, as all of the wings were eaten.

For the main course, I made rosemary pork chops and for the sauce I reduced some apple juice with some honey and almonds. The pork was a little dry, but the taste was good, with distinctive flavors...or so I was told. I knew the pork would be dry because I cooked it about 3 minutes too long. Oh well. I also made a toasted almond rice with Kalua almond liqueur. Wow, that stuff is delicious. It's like liquid candy. The rice was just ok though, as I burnt some of the almonds.

For the dessert, I decided to go with a chocolate risotto. Instead of chicken stock I used milk and sugar to make the risotto and then added about 6 ounces of unsweetened chocolate and more almonds (the "secret" ingredient for today's challenge) I had the bright idea of using Cinnamon Toast Crunch as the outer layer for deep frying the chocolate risotto balls (which turned out to be like mini brownies). However, after trying to apply the crushed CTC, it wasn't happening. So, back to old reliable, Corn Flakes. Then, in order to give the risotto some sweetness, I topped them with honey and put them on a nice scoop of vanilla ice cream. They turned out rather good. So, the battle for supreme cereal goes to Corn Flakes. Next time, I'll use some milk chocolate to mix in the risotto and not even bother with other cereals.

And since I have some left over sauce for the wings, I think I'll have to make at least one more batch of wings this week. Anyone hungry for some wings?

Foreign Releases

Ok, so what the hell is going on? Apparently a CD can be released here in the US, but the same one that is released in Japan gets an additional two songs?!? I can't be the only perturplexed by this. (it's my new thing, combining two sweet words to come up with one awesome one...i.e. sweetastic, joygasmic, and of course grapentine fruit)

So, Incubus releases Light Grenades. And even though I'm a fan, I think that most of the songs they laid down on this album show growth, some new depth, with some goold ol' fashined rocking' going on. And then, thanks to all of the wonderful modern technology, You Tube comes along and WHAM! I get this.



AND THIS!:



Both of these are available only on the Japanese version of the Light Grenades album. And if I want to get them I have to pay a minimum of $21.83. But I already have the Light Grenades album. PFFFFFFT! With extra saliva. PFFFT. That's what I say. The songs are not available on iTunes or even on any of the black-listed P2P sharing programs. Or so I've been told. I don't play in any of those places. No telling what kind of rif-raf you run into there.

So, B-Side music only available to the Japanese, I say to you PFFFFT! Next time Sony comes out with a new Play Station, we here in the US should get and extra controller and free DVD with our PS4. But the Japanese, you get nothing with yours. It's a fair trade.

The Lost Art of Storytelling

For the past several weeks Fox has had its new reality show 'On the Lot' bringing up-and-coming directors into the limelight. Some have some innovative ideas, some are special effects wizards, some are pretty funny, and even a few have style. But what is glaringly obvious is that none of them seem to understand the heart of storytelling. And that is the major problem with Hollywood movies.

Look, we've all said it - "It wasn't a great movie, but it was fun. It was entertaining. Sometimes I just want to have mindless entertainment." Fair enough. Yes, I said it, fair enough. But porn is mindless entertainment. Quite fun too, I imagine. Films, at their very basic core, are stories. And the problem with the storytellers is that they are directors, more concerned with scenes, visual personifications, and gimmicky wow factor BS that manipulates audiences' emotions.

This is evident in 'On the Lot' when guest judges (Hollywood movie makers) critique the short films of contestants. Only Wes Craven has provided any clear insight for the young directors. Craven actually made a statement about a film where the characters lacked causality (not his exact term, but that's what he meant). While it's fun to see what these directors are able to come up with in just a week, it's also exposing how lost Hollywood really is when it comes to storytelling. And there is absolutely NO constructive criticism. It's a popularity contest. After all, Hollywood is high school with cigars.

And so, here are a few thoughts about writing and storytelling from some famous dead, nearly dead, and never dead people. Enjoy.

"Many books require no thought from those who read them, and for a very simple reason; they made no such demand upon those who wrote them."
- Charles Caleb Colton (1780 - 1832), Lacon, 1820
(The same is true for movie makers)

"Writers should be read, but neither seen nor heard."
- Daphne du Maurier (1907 - 1989)
(Directors drench their movies with their "style" and often kill the story)

"The skill of writing is to create a context in which other people can think."
- Edwin Schlossberg

"Please write again soon. Though my own life is filled with activity, letters encourage momentary escape into others lives and I come back to my own with greater contentment."
- Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey, A Woman of Independent Means
(This is why we love movies so much)

"It's not enough to create magic. You have to create a price for magic, too. You have to create rules."
Eric A. Burns, Gossamer Commons, 06-15-05

"Write something to suit yourself and many people will like it; write something to suit everybody and scarcely anyone will care for it."
- Jesse Stuart
(Hollywood suits always try mass appeal because it will sell more tickets, and we end up with crap)

And finally, let's end with F. Scott Fitzgerald. Why? Because it's my blog, that's why.

"Begin with an individual, and before you know it you have created a type; begin with a type, and you find you have created - nothing."

"Draw your chair up close to the edge of the precipice and I'll tell you a story."

"Find the key emotion; this may be all you need know to find your short story."

"To have something to say is a question of sleepless nights and worry and endless ratiocination of a subject - of endless trying to dig out of the essential truth, the essential justice."

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Dora the (S)explorer

Ok, so fair warning to any virgin eyes or ears, and especially minds - this is not a "G"-rated cartoon blog. And a very LARGE warning to any pervs - no, this is not a review of a messed up porn movie. Granted, since I talk a lot about movies, I could see that leap. But alas, that is not what this is.

First, I do believe that there is someone out there who has reserved the right to "Dora the Sexplorer" as her stage name, should she ever choose to fully come out of her shell. However, since she still insists on teasing me with links to songs I am not allowed to listen to, she may have forfeited any right to this tantric pseudonym.

Now, for those that know me well, you may be asking yourselves, I've never known the Fat Kid to behave himself. And you would be correct, as I live my life by the very simple rule: It is easier to get forgiveness than permission. So, sing on, Supah Geek. Sing on.

First topic under the (S)exploration that is today's subject - rock climbing. For the first time since my scouting days, lo those many moons ago, I actually attempted to scale some rocks. I say attempted because Fat Kids don't go up very easily, unless it's an escalator or elevator. To make matters so much better, my rock climbing partner/teacher/embarasser, who is a foot shorter and half my size, went up twice, in impressive fashion. I was forced to voluntarily suspend my man card until I either got up the rock or build a house using nothing but mud, rocks and duct tape. Whichever comes first.

Next (s)exploration was going to the DC United game. DC won, beating Chicago 3-1. Why is this worth mentioning? Well, it's my first soccer game. And DC won.

My next first was making a pulled pork meal on Sunday for a group of about 12 people. Now, I've never made pulled pork, so this was quite an adventure. I made up my own sauce - a chipotle, coffee, molasses delight. Other firsts consisted of a potato salad and coleslaw, both of which I've never made before. The pork did take a little longer to cook than anticipated, and the flavor didn't quite match my expectations, once mixed with the sauces, it came out ok. Everyone who ate said it was good, so I will have to take their word for it.

And last but not least, the final (s)exploration of this edition of the Fat Kid Korner is Man vs. Wild on the Discovery Chanel. There are quite a few clips of this sweet show on Youtube, but they are clips of the host/survivor Bear Grylls peeing on a shirt to wrap around his head and face to keep cool in the Moab desert, or biting the head off a snake to for a light lunch. So, instead, CLICK HERE to go to the official page. This has to be the craziest SOB ever and he rules. Plus, for anyone who might be trekking up Mt. Rainier anytime soon, you could learn some valuable tips.

Ladies' Night at the Movies

Brad Pitt. George Clooney. Matt Damon. Al Pacino. Casey Affleck. Scott Caan. Don Cheadle. Andy Garcia. And that little Chinese dude. Eye candy for the chicks of the film going world all in the same movie. No wonder it took in $37.1 million over the weekend.

The movie is adequate. It's not great. It's funny, but only because it's very self-aware and the cast plays well off each other. Other than that, there really isn't much to this installment of Man Candy for the Lonely Housewife's Soul. The lonely housewives don't even have to feel threatened by the one female in this movie: Ellen Barkin. Her face has been so beaten by botox, half of her face doesn't even work. I think if she were to have taken a drink of something, it would have dribbled out like she had just been to the dentist. And boobs so fake that she's her own flotation device in case the airplane goes down over water.

My favorite line came when Scott Caan and Casey Affleck are trying to hack into Pacino's computer and Caan asks, "Are you in yet?" And Affleck replies, "I hate that question." In the theater, my friend and I were the only ones laughing at first, as it seemed to sail over the heads of the rest of the audience. But, they eventually caught up, and a delayed chuckle sounded. Watch the trailer below and you'll pretty much get the entire gist of the movie and hear most of the best lines.



So, the bottom line is this: you won't be disappointed you spent the money to see this in the theater. But you won't exactly feel satisfied. Like eating sugar free ice cream. The image on the carton looks like it is going to be a sweet, creamy and delightful experience. But, in the end, it's bland, nothing special, and you look at the picture on the box longing for some good ol' fat-filled Ben n' Jerry's.

The Dead Girl

So, two posts in one week! I guess it's just the fact that I know my stalker is reading my posts and even commenting, so that is incentive to keep this thing alive. (my sincere, heart-felt gratitude to my #1 stalker...you know who you are)

Ok, so I watched a weird movie last night called The Dead Girl. I don't know if you've seen Crash or not, but it's similar in its non-linear story telling, told in five chapters. I won't bog you down with the summary, but click here to read it.

My general feelings on this are mixed. The characters are incredibly deep and nuanced. yet the canvas that each are given is not vast enough. And that is the ultimate crux of telling a story in this fashion. No bone ever has enough meat, so to speak. In the first chapter, Toni Collette does a fine job of bringing to life a very troubled and altogether screwed up woman, but I'm not really sure where her central conflict is supposed to lie, how she resolves it, what her over all desire is. She is a reactionary character and she is therefore superfluous (now that is a real word...Google that one).



Out of the five chapters in this movie, two are worth it. The chapter titled "The Sister" where Rose Byrne plays a young pathologist who struggles to deal with the disappearance of her sister fifteen years earlier. Her parents just won't let her go and continue their obstinate pursuit of her, which only depresses her even more. When a body she is examining has a similar birth mark as her sister, she believes it's her sister and she is actually relieved. And for a brief moment, she finds peace and normalcy and even bumps some naughties with James Franco.

The other chapter that is great is the last one, bearing the same name as the title and delves into the sad life of Brittany Murphy's character, The Dead Girl. The lead in chapter here works with this one as the mother of the dead girl, played almost perfectly by Marcia Gay Harden, seeks for answers about her daughter. My biggest problem here is that Brittany Murphy slips into a bit of a New Jersey accent when talking tough. But this story expanded and juxtaposed with the sister chapter could have been highly potent. And had the writer/director Karen Moncrieff stuck with those two, it could have been an amazing movie. One maybe even worth the Fat Kid endorsement of it "Rocks My Grandma".

But it is a tasty treat, nonetheless. Although, with the drug use, disturbing sex, and violence involving women, buyer beware. Be very ware.

All Good Things

Well, it took six seasons, but The Shield has finally disappointed me. Now, there have been several times throughout the seasons that I have rolled my eyes a bit or swallowed down some distaste for a particular line or even supplemental storyline. But the last three episodes of this season were so below par for this show, I can't help but wonder if Shawn Ryan and his staff simply conceived these and wrote them as an after thought. Or, more likely, got so caught up in their 'genius' idea of Prodigal Son Shane and Vic going head to head in turmoil, vengeance and anger that they couldn't see the parabolic forest for the trees.

But here's the thing, Vic and Shane already went through this! Back a couple of seasons ago when Shane was under Antwan Mitchell's thumb, he and Vic and a reckoning.

So, Shane needs a plan and he goes to the ever familiar Armenians. The same crime family he and the Strike Team ripped off (to the tune of several million dollars) a few years ago. And who does he encounter? Franka Potente, one of the worst actresses working today, playing the grieving daughter of the Armenian mob boss. She is shy, uncertain, terrified. Fine, it works in the sense that Shane can manipulate her for his own purposes. But her sudden transformation into a cold-hearted, ruthless boss that gives the order to kill Vic and his family is so precipitous that not even Meryl Streep could have pulled it off. Let alone Potente, whom I'm sure can deliver a line in her native German, but when uttered in English, it's so devoid of thought and emotion it fails.

That coupled with Hiatt (Vic's would-be replacement as the Strike Team leader) and his sudden descent into asshole-dome (it's a word - Google it) just kill the intensity of the story as we are once again pulled out of the story by contrived writing.

The worst part of this is the real heart of the story, Vic's conflict to keep his job and the San Marcos killings and the crime and conspiracy involved, is overshadowed by the lack of focus. I understand that Shane and Vic have hit a crossroads since Vic found out that Shane killed Lem (another poorly thought out plot twist meant for more "OMG, I never saw that coming" which is the refuge of the uncreative writer).

So, Shawn, Kurt Sutter, Chiklis and the rest of the producing crew, get up off your creative asses and get back to season 1 and 2 form. This show has been too good to let it stir in the overbearing, hyperbolic acting of Forrest Whitaker from last season to the contrived, precipitous story lines and character arcs of this season.

Weird, Wild Stuff

So, I've come to the end of my non-trip. Crazily and scarily enough, I would have been in Valencia when that train derailed had I not suffered through the seventh circle of hell and left.

So, I've been enjoying Alicante - a wonderful resort-type town with plenty of interesting restaurants, culture, and of course, insanely beautiful women. I'm not exaggerating either. Even the policewomen and the girl cleaning the trash off the streets were gorgeous. My hotel is right near the water, so every day I walk down to the beach, around the water, enjoy lunch at an outdoor cafe and read in the shade of a nearby park. And the people here never sleep. Two nights ago I was walking around town about 11:30 at night, and the old Spaniards were all sitting in this promenade, dressed up in their Sunday best (it was Monday). The women, pristinely coiffed and painted, fanned themselves and chatted while their husbands, some in polyester suits from their youth, others in more contemporary "senior" fashions, sounded as if they were discussing world politics, or more importantly, the World Cup.

One thing I've noticed here too - I don't think Americans by and large are more unhealthy than our European counterparts. We're just fatter. We eat larger portions, eat too quick, don't exercise enough, and we don't smoke nearly as much as Europeans do. But, thin doesn't always mean healthy. The majority of the people here have guts or poochy stomachs. And McDonald's and Burger King are always packed. Plus, these people walk everywhere. The food has been a good mix of international flavor. I've eaten at German, Turkish, Spanish, French, Italian, and American restaurants, all mixed with the local tastes. That mostly means adding fish from the Mediterranean. I've found a new way to fix a tuna sandwich, by the way.

So, the other night, I'm enjoying my evening stroll around town, enjoying the glow of the sunset on the buildings, the smell of the fresh flowers, the sound of the several water fountains around town, and the sound of Spaniards partying into the wee hours. I come to a street about two blocks away from my hotel and there are these two girls standing out in front of this large red door with a neon sign above it. It was a restaurant and house community, so I didn't think too much of it. As I walked past, the black girl said to me in English, "Good evening."
I smiled, nodded and said, "Hello."
"Hey, where are you from?" she asked.
Curse my friendly nature (which is bizarre 'cause I hate people) I stopped and said, "America".
She grabbed my hand, rotated to my side, locking arms with me, "I love America. It's a great country."
"And where are you from?"
"Jamaica."
"What on earth are you doing here?" I asked.
She starts to walk toward the big red door, pulling me along with her. "Come inside for a drink and we can talk in there."
I planted my feet and she tugged on my arm, like trying to get a dog to obey the yank of its collar. "Thank you, but sorry, I've to meet some friends for some late night shenanigans. Maybe next time," I said and walked away. And maybe if my affinity for plump, Jamaican prostitutes changes, too.
Never a dull moment, folks. Never a dull moment.

Where Am I? And What am I Doing Here?

After a stellar conference that went better than I had anticipated (which ended with a farewell dinner in a town about an hour north of Alicante called Altea, and we went to the Old Town, which looked as if it were cut right from a 16th century town complete with a cathedral in the town square, and ate at this AMAZING restaurant on the terrace which looked down upon the Mediterranean and we ate cheese and gazpacho, salad (with very sweet tomatoes and I actually ate one), fresh tuna wrapped in bacon (see, Americans aren't the only ones who like to wrap food in bacon) and some of the most tender pork chops I've ever had in my life, topped off with a cinnamon ice cream treat (apparently they have over 100 kinds of ice cream here, it's a Fat Kid's dream come true)) anyway, I started off on Saturday to take the train to Valencia to purchase my Eurail pass because for some unexplained reason, they don't sell the Eurail in Alicante. So, I arrived in Valencia, sweaty and excited, and got to the window.
"We don't sell Eurail passes on the weekend," the Spanish brute said to me through the ticket window.
"What do you mean you don't sell them on the weekend?" I switched to English to give myself every advantage I might need.
"Only Monday to Friday you can purchase U-ray-eel pass."
"Ok, fine. Can I buy a ticket to Lyon, France then."
"No."
"So, I can't leave Spain, is that what you're telling me?"
"No U-ray-eel pass you may purchase on Saturday or Sunday, only Monday to Friday."
"Forget about the Eurail pass. Just get me into France."
"It is impossible. No international ticket to be purchased. You have to purchase on Monday."
"So, you're telling me that I can't get out of Spain until Monday?"
"Si."
"I'm stuck here until Monday."
"Si."
Under my breath, "That wasn't a question."
"You can go to border of Spain and Francia."
"But I'd still be in Spain."
"Well, of course."
"Right."
Unbelievable. So, I set off to find a hotel. I went to the office of tourism and told the guy that I wanted a decent hotel but not too expensive. He showed me one that was about 33 US dollars, so I went there. I had to pay cash up front and it was only until I was at the door to go into the floor where my room was that I noticed the sign:
"Hostal Lyon". I was in fact in Lyon - but a HOSTAL? I opened the door to my room. Prisoners get more room than this. The floor was hard tile, like a supermarket floor. No toilet, no shower (those of course are communal) and worst of all, no air conditioning. I was already soaked from walking with my two bags in the 90+ degree weather. I laid down on the bed, which was nothing more than an inch thick foam pad on a shaky steel bed frame that felt like it was going to snap every time I shifted. The more I tried to cool down, the more stuffy the room became. I was in a veritable oven. The light buzzed loud and I almost expected bugs to start getting zapped. I couldn't take it anymore, so I splashed tepid water from the sink in my cell to try and cool myself down, changed clothes and headed out to explore the city.
Now, you know it's awful when you walk out into 90+ weather and you cool off. Anyway, I found a Burger King (I know, ultimate sin, but it was cool and had big drinks). I felt like Dr. Freeze from "Batman" going back to his frozen cave and getting back to center. I was one with the Eskimo. But I had to leave at some point. So I found a park bench and sat and watched life in Valencia. The architecture is very renaissance and the main buildings (government, museums, theaters) are quite pristine. Once the sun started to set, which was actually quite spectacular because it painted the building in a pink and purple hue, I ventured off to see the city. It wasn't long before I came to a bull-fighting theater and saw lights and heard cheering. I saw a couple walk in with no tickets. So, I asked the guy at the door how much. It was free. I started to get a slight tingle - I was going to see a bull fight. Of course, I was a little concerned that I might not ever want to eat a steak again, but it was a chance I was willing to take.
I walked up the steps to the arena and stepped out in the night of the arena. It was a perfect circle that looked like a coliseum from "Gladiator". I looked down to the dirt floor where the fight was supposed to be - and there was a complete orchestra set up playing magnificently. Apparently, I had just wandered into some sort of regional music competition that was open to the public. No bulls getting slashed and stabbed. No matador and red cloak. Just heat, steam, expectations, decent classical music, and one very sweaty, disappointed American.
I couldn't sleep in the 7th circle of hell known as my room. It kept getting hotter and hotter and the cars, people, trash trucks, and animals on the street all sounded as if they were in bed with me - it was my very own somnambulistic orgy. And I was ready for my straight jacket.
I woke to sheets soaked with my sweat, an aching back, a throbbing headache, and a decision to come back to Alicante. I had checked my schedules now to see that getting to Lyon would be difficult in time, and Geneva was now impossible.
So, here I am, back in Alicante, in my nice hotel where I stayed for the conference. It's a nice resort town with plenty of restaurants and thousands of tourists (which I hate, but at least it's lively). And, on a good ol' fashion twist of fate, I found an international book store. Inside I found a small selection of French books. I found a book called "Un Garcon de France" by Pascal Sevran. This is a book that I have been searching for since Melanie told me about it years ago. See, silver lining, no matter how thin, or charcoal colored it may be, is always there.
Oh well, there are far worse places to be stuck.

Welcome To Spain

So, after a cancelled flight, a free hotel room, several hours discussing world sports in a bar with several Brits, and I guess 7+ inches of rain, I finally took off from DC to Spain, with a quick stop in London. Funny thing, while waiting at the terminal, I kept noticing all of the hot, skinny girls that were walking around. And they all had really tiny breasts. So I thought, you know, maybe American men really are obsessed with breasts - it's because our women actually have them. Well, I finally found out that these petite beauties were with the Royal Ballet, hence the no breasts.
So, Spain. I'm in Alicante, which is about 3-4 hours south of Barcelona and right on the Mediterranean. I feel like I'm in Arizona, with the desert and palm trees. I gotta say, when we took off from London (and on that flight all of the stewardesses were young and hot, which we seem to have lost in the US) we flew over the Channel. It was a tingling feeling seeing England disappear into the water and France appear through the clouds. It felt like somewhat of a homecoming.
Mike Dreznes ( a colleague of mine) and I met for dinner and ate a little cafe on the beach. Then, we walked around the city square looking for a place to watch the World Cup match between Spain and France. And much like Gallahad the Chaste in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, I saw the large screen television calling to me. Mike and I sat down in this bar about 45 minutes before game time, and it was a good thing we were that early, because by the time the game started, it was wall to wall with people, and there were even some fans looking through the window from the street. It wasn't long after I sat down that I heard several people around me speaking French. I prepared myself for war. I have never experienced anything like that before in all my years of watching sports. My ears rang louder at the end of the night than after any concert I've ever been too. Half the crowd chanted "Allez les bleus" for the French team and intermittent chants of "Es-pa-na" made it impossible to hear the TV. Not that it would have mattered because it was all in Spanish.
Well, I'm off to a dinner and a reception. I'll take plenty of pictures and try and post to this blog a few times so that everyone can hear what's going on.

Scott

Closer

So, I waited until this came out on DVD. Yeah, it was the right move to make. Why were all the critics so in love with this flick? is it because we got hear Julia Roberts talk about orgasms and sexual positions? Or that we got to see Natalie Portman as a stripper? Granted, both were fun, but this movie was tough.
Now, I know it was adapted from a play, but it was too choppy for the screen. And Portman was...well she was just a slutty version of her character from Garden State. Not Oscar worthy.
But seriously, what is Oscar worthy? What does that even mean? A bunch of Hollywood people get together to decide what is the best in Hollywood? I thnk it's time for some new, outside blood.
But I digress. Back to Closer. Clive Owen was by far the brightest spot of this flick. He stole every scene he was in, and was powerful in his vulnerability. But the characters were just too precipitous in their actions which pulled me out of the story. I didn't care about the characters, what they were feeling, who they were sleeping with, not even their names. So at the end when we find out that Jane is really Portman's character's name, who cares? Is has nothing to do with the plot, we know nothing about her situation. Poor character development, and the dialogue was full of sex, which in and of itself isn't bad, but it just became laborious after a while.

Oh well, it was only four bucks.

Glenn Close

I know, I already wrote about The Shield. But I'm sorry, one 'cause it doesn't really matter because no one is reading this. And two, this show is just so good. It is the highlight of my week.
And for any of those doubters out there that were upset with Glenn Close coming in, what the hell were you thinking? She is incredible. I don't think I could have imagined her playing this part with more precision. She is agressive, yet likable, not a bitch. She's not too witty, but gets a few one-liners in there. She is 24/7 intense. She does not overact. Which, given the show and the co-stars, would be very easy to do. She has added a great energy to the storyline. I applaud the writers for this season, so far. They have done a great job of leading us to this point where we know "it" is going to hit the fan. We just don't know how or when.
Seriously, anyone who happens to read this and isn't watching this show, tune in on Tuesday nights at either 10:00 or 11:00 on F/X. You'll be happy you did.

Millions

Now this was a great movie. You know when you go into a movie and you think to yourself, I better not be disappointed, 'cause you hear all sorts of good things from those critics, whom you swear sleep through half the films they rate, so you just sort of set yourself up for disappointment. Well, I was pleasantly not disappointed.
This film is told to us through the eyes of little Damian. He's a good kid, with a good heart, and a great accent. I can't believe the little kid who played him has never acted before. Here's the thing with this kid - he's the one that has to carry the film. So, for Haley Joel Osment, and that kid that played in Finding Neverland (An unreal performance in another crisp and subtly brilliant film) you were both insane, but this kid...was just something else. Anyway, Damian sees saints, and he knows all about them. And he wants to do what's right. Well, after his mom passes away, his dad moves him and his brother to a new home to get away.
Damian does what any kid would do with a bunch of empy moving boxes...be builds a hermitage (ok a fort, but for Damian it's a hermitage). While out chilling in his hermitage, a bag of money lands on him. His older brother finds Damian and the cash and thus ensues the adventure of Millions.
Damian believes the money is from God and that he's supposed to help the poor. His brother, on the other hand, is all too human, buying friends gifts and even establishing his own little motorcade. But the real problem is, the money was stolen, and the criminal wants it back.
The really is a good flick. I can't give it a 'Rocks My Grandma' for the only reason that the dad is not developed enough, and then sort of comes in at the end to add some contrived conflict. But overall, a very Tasty Treat.

The Shield

Finally, The Shield is back. It gives new meaning to my Tuesday nights. If you haven't been watching this show, then you're missing out on quite possibly the best drama on TV. The writing is fantastic, and the acting is precise.
With this new season, Glenn Close joins the cast as the new captain. And I gotta say, I think that they are using her carefully, and perfectly...for now. The talent of the writers and Shawn Ryan, the show's creator, is evidenced in how this season has reinvented the show without having to rely upon gimmicks or outlandish storylines (a la The OC and the lesbian affair, which was fun to watch, but ridiculous nonetheless).
So, this season, the Strike Team is no more, and Vic and Ronnie are the only two left at The Barn. David is on his way to City Council, and Dutch and Claudette have been black-listed by the DA's office because of Claudette's self-righteous campaign that has led to an overturn of dozens of cases by the DA's office. This season also brings Anthony Andersen as a philathropic drug dealer who is going head to head with Vic. Shane is now working vice, and is getting dirtier and dirtier as he gets deeper in bed with Anthony Andersen's character. What's great is to watch Vic deal with this, as Shane is much like a son to him. And Shane learned a lot of his tricks from Vic.
I really feel that they have gone to new level with this season, and I hope they continue with it. The best re-inventions are subtle yet powerful: and this has the potential to be great. Let's hope they don't screw it up.

Dummy

Ok, so I went to go see Hostage last weekend, and although it was entertaining, it just furthered my distaste for the cookie-cutter blockbuster that Hollywood feeds us.
However, I did happen to catch a very good flick on Showtime called Dummy, starring Adrien Brody as a socially awkward 30-year-old wannabe ventriloquist, who still lives at home with his looney parents and antagonistic sister. Brody shows here the precision in his acting, as his subtle humor permeates his scenes, not to mention the fact that he does all of his own ventriloquist stunts.
At the start of the movie, writer/director Greg Pritikin delves us into Steven's ambitionless life, with a great and idiosyncratic cast of supporting characters. Milla Jovovich ('Fifth Element', and all around beautiful woman) does an outstanding job of playing, Fangora, the tough-on-the-surface chick friend of Steven's. Jovovich is excellent in being just annoying enough but also endearing in her stubbornness to give us a reason to understand why the introvert Steven is friends with such a different person.
Steven's parents, played by Jessica Walter (the mom on 'Arrested Development') and Ron Liebman (Rachel's dad from 'Friends') are superb. They are cliched characters as parents, but they aren't overacted, which is consistent with the rest of the movie. Rounding out Steven's family is his sister, Heidi (played by Ileana Douglas, a wonderful character actress, but I best remember her as Wendy Ward in the Jay Mohr series 'Action'). She is a wannabe singer, with some talent, that never got the support from her mother that she deserved. Heidi has just broken off her engagement and is now planning a Jewish wedding. What a great world Pritikin throws us into!
The catalyst for Steven's change in this movie comes when he gets fired from his office job, where he is an obvious derelict. Steven goes to see an employment specialist, single mom Lorena (played by Vera Forminga, '15 Minutes'). Steven actually confides in her that he really wants to be a ventriloquist, and after swallowing some laughter, she says that she will try to help him find an agent.
Steven begins to come out of his shell, and he buys a dummy to start practicing. The shy introverts now has a voice for the thoughts that never left his head. The dummy serves as Steven's expressive side, and his character begins to really flourish. The best part about Brody's performance here is that again, he doesn't overdo it. A great credit to the direction of Pritikin. Meanwhile, Fangora and her band struggle to morph into a Yiddish band to play at the wedding that Heidi is planning. Steven's father continues to build model ships in his retirement, his mother continues to try and feed everyone, and Steven struggles with love, life and his crazy friend.
So, instead of stars, thumbs up and all that other crap that others use to recommend movies, here's my own system:

• Sucks a doochie: Means that there is at least 90 minutes of my life that I'll never get back and that I am probably dumber for having seen this movie.
• Great Escape: Well, I'm not getting my money back, but at least there were lots of explosions, hot chicks some funny lines/scenes.
• Potential: Now, this has the potential to be great, but is not, so wait for video. Of course, this could also mean, this could potential cause seizures and severe cramping so watch at your own risk.
• Tasty Treat: Good movie, worth the money and time, giving you the viewer something to think about, feel, excite or just numb the mind in a good way. Still, not quite climactic.
• Rocks My Grandma: 'Nuff said.

Now, for Dummy I gotta go with Tasty Treat on this one. There were a couple of scenes that could have been used to really dial up the tension more, especially between Lorena and Steven. But overall, a great flick.

Greatest Show in the History of Television???

Now, I am still not sure if it was a joke or not, but the ad claiming that since last week's OC was so amazing they just had to show it again, was a bit much. Now, I have been watching this show from the very beginning. I was a huge fan. But lately, Mr. Schwartz, the show's creator, and his team of writers, have gotten lazy, stupid, and cliched.
Last week's episode was one of the worst I have ever seen. The Marissa/Alex relationship, although it sparks steamy mental images, is forced. One day Marissa decides that she digs Alex so she decides to see what playing for the other team is like. But, the sudden decision to move in with her was brash, precipitous and drew the viewer out of the story even more.
Now, onto Ryan and Lindsay. First, it's great to see Ryan come out of his shell, and Benjamin Mackenzie is doing a great job of still playing the character close to form. But this whole thing with Lindsay being Caleb's daughter and the whole go between from Ryan to Caleb is the cream filling of daytime TV. I realize of course that The OC wasn't reaching for any sort of benchmark, but there's a reason why the majority of The OC's audience is male. It started with great characterization and dialogue. Of course the indulgence of gorgeous women helps tremendously. But it seems that Mr. Schwartz does not have the creative staying power to keep The OC up to the standard that he set with the first few episodes.
The worst of all of this goulash of characters is Seth. How many hours of incessant whining, pining, whimpering, pansy-ass fluff can we take from this kid? Seth was hilarious when the show first started. Now, I want to beat him like a red-headed step child. Is he supposed to be the Ross to Summer's Rachel? How much more cookie cutter can they get? When Summer first moved on with Zach, I was optimistic that they were going to move on. And they destroyed my hopes. The mere notion that Summer would go back to that whining, pathetic excuse for a man is seriously ridiculous! And I know that it was supposed to be some sort of joke, tongue in cheek, type of thing when Summer shows up at the end to kiss Seth a la Spiderman, but COME ON!!! That scene sucked ass in Spiderman. You are the lowest form of creative hack when you rip off someone's story or scene idea. But you have the creative power of rat feces when you steal a horrible idea.
There is sun coming through the clouds, however. Peter Gallagher and Kelly Rowan continue to give great performances, but the scenes given them and the dialogue between their characters is growing weak, stale and monotonous.
There are some great, memorable characters here. But TV characters are like plants, you need to give them the proper dosage of sunlight (story lines), water (good, solid writing) and that special plant food mixture (sound direction) in order for them to really bring forth good fruits.
And right now, the once promising characters of The OC are unfortunately fast shrivelling into brown weeds.

My New Favorite TV Show

Ok, so I've been away in South America for a while, and now I'm back and readjusted after my business trip. And yes, it was a blast.
But, on to the real reason for this post: TV. HBO has given us such great series as The Sopranos, Carnivale, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and now they have given us Unscripted. This semi-reality based series follows the lives of struggling actors. The interesting thing is, some pretty big names are involved. First off, George Clooney and Steven Soderbergh are the producers, Krista Allen and Frank Langella star, with dozens of cameos by Meryll Streep, Brad Pitt, Uma Thurman and many others. While it's fascinating to see this side of Hollywood, the character development of the struggling actors is outstanding. You go through the cliched rollercoaster ride with them on auditions, in acting class, through the maelstrom of relationships, and you really get connected.
If you haven't watched this show, then you should start. It airs every Sunday night at 10:00. If you are lucky and have 'On-Demand' you can watch the entire season so far.

Review of Hotel Rwanda

On Monday night I went to see Hotel Rwanda starring Don Cheadle, who has been one of my favorite actors for quite some time now. I first remember him as DC John Littleton on Picket Fences that quirky TV show with Tom Skerrit as the sheriff.
See this movie. It is incredible in every aspect. Cheadle's performance as hotel manager Paul Rusesabagina is brilliant, as are the performances of the supporting cast. The movie follows Rusesabagina as a suave hotel manager who meets with high-ranking military and government officials at his resort, as well as rich Europeans who come to vacation. However, the country is in turmoil as the Hutu tribe, now in power, is beginning to rev up their goal of genocide against the Tutsi tribe. Rusesabagina is Hutu, and his wife, Tatiana (played by Sophie Okonedo) is Tutsi. As the movie progresses, we see Rusesabagina's evolution from a simple man who just wants to keep his family together and alive, forced into housing more than a thousand Tutsi and Hutu refugees at his five-star resort. He struggles to maintain the integrity of the hotel out of loyalty to his employers, at the same time he fights, the best way he knows how, to keep the refugees alive.
So what makes Cheadle's performance so good? It's subtle, yet powerful. Simple, yet complex. When playing a part based on a real person, there is not a whole lot of room for artistic improvisation. Cheadle plays his part so well, he carries the audience with him on the rising flow of emotion, frustration, fear and anger that Rusesabagina was feeling. Yet, Cheadle never over-acts. His slight facial features, and his presentation of restrain are bold and striking.
In one particular scene, when all the foreign nationals who are visiting are escorted out by foreign military, Rusesabagina finds out that no one will be staying behind to protect them. As the rain pounds Rusesabagina, drenching his impecable suit, Cheadle's expression is priceless, and communicates more than any shouting, crying or cussing could ever do. And it is one of the most memorable scenes from a movie that I have seen in a very long time.
On a scale of one to five stars, I give it five. Director Terry George does a fantastic job of telling the story, not focusing on the blood and guts of the violence. George lets the audience connect with the characters and feel their horror. There are a few scenes where we see hundreds of bodies strewn across dirt roads. And one scene where we see machetes hacking down on innocent women and children, but no blood or cutting is scene, it is implied, which makes the disgust in our stomachs that much more profound.
Go see it, and tell a friend. This movie deserves a lot more attention than it is getting.