A Statement About Mad Men and How Much it Kicks Ass

Mad Men is pretty effing excellent.

Let's just put that out there for a moment.  I watched the first episode well over a year ago when the initial critical praise just ramping up.  I have to confess that at first I didn't "get" it, and so tried to ignore the growing cult buzz.  However, after the continued hype and the whole Emmy win, it became increasingly apparent that I was missing something.  

So I bought the first season on iTunes, and ohmygoodness.  Stephen King was right when he wrote in a recent Entertainment Weekly column that Mad Men is a soap opera wrapped in nostalgia and style, but it is also much, much more than that.  It is a studied look at relationships and the expectations we have for eachother.  The marriage of Don and Betty Draper is one of superficial happiness (all of Betty's friends take time to comment about the apparent perfection of her husband) and deeply wrought undercurrents (after 6+ years of marriage, Betty still does not know the specifics of Don's past, starting with the fact that his name is not Don Draper).

All of this domestic turmoil landscaped by Don's advertising firm, Sterling Cooper, the literal source of manipulative advertising and false polish for the products people are trying to sell.  

The show might border on ordinary if not for the extreme flair and style with which it is presented.  For better or worse, we are transported back to an era where smoking is cool, a scotch at 10 in the morning is perfectly acceptable, and kids are left at home asleep at night with no babysitter.  The writing is excellent, the acting is subtle and effective, and it's just a great show.  

Plus, Don Draper is hot.

A Statement About 30 Rock

I have been meaning to write this particular post for a while, but it's even more relevent today, so here we go.

30 Rock is excellent.  I don't say that with a single reservation, or with an ounce of exaggeration.  Tina Fey has created a show that is both smart and ridiculous (my favorite kind) and with a cast that is absolutely to die for.

The key to the excellence has to be a complete knowledge and respect for the people she wants watching this show.  For example, what should have been a routine product placement of Verizon products in season 2, the writers take on their selling-out dead on when Fey's Liz Lemon, after extolling the virtues of the network, looks straight into the camera and says "Can we have our money now?"

And then there is Liz Lemon herself.  Never before has there been such a female character on television, and she could not be more relatable even in her exagerrated neurosis.  Liz is socially awkward, a Star Wars dork, an emotional eater (see:  Cheese curls, a $57 steak, and a meatball sub with extra bread.)  Liz is not desperate for a man to come along and make her a complete person-- she already is.  But that doesn't keep her from wanting the companionship anyway (see: Dennis Duffy). 

Even the shortened second season (oh... the Writer's Strike seems so long ago, doesn't it?) the material is fresh and outrageous and smart as hell.  Why aren't you watching?

A Statement About Why Twilight is NOT The Next Harry Potter

OK, I know I have been saying I would do this for a long time, so here it goes.

There is currently a drive in the entertainment industry (at least the book and film bits) to convince everyone that the Twilight series will replace the Harry Potter series in terms of pop cultural and monetary importance.  There is also a movement to make people choose between Harry and Twilight, creating an artificial conflict between fans of both.  For the record, I read and enjoyed both to various degrees.  I like Twilight, and had fun reading it.

Twilight is not The Next Harry Potter.  And anyone who tells you otherwise has not been paying attention.  Twilight, enjoyable though it may be, features some of the worst writing in recent memory.  As an example, the number of times the word 'beatutiful' is used to describe the heroic Edward is almost laughable.  This is to say nothing of a serious lack of mythology and substance to anything pertaining to the back story.  In fact, it is not until the fourth book that Meyer begins presenting a universe full of vampires and lore.

Contrast this with Potterverse, where we know from the beginning that there is more to this world than just Harry, and we meet all of the various characters present in the climax of the series along the way.  The writing in Harry is also clearly superior, with the introduction of various concepts and plot hypotheticals throughout.  Rowling's use of the word 'basilisk,' for example, without any nod toward the fact that the word means giant snake, shows her respect for readers' intelligence and curiosity.

The main reason, though, that Twilight is not a worthy successor to Harry Potter, more than anything, boils down to the final books in the respective series.  The Deathly Hallows serves the rest of the series remarkably, offering closure to every major issue presented, and inviting the reader to see his favorite characters settle in to a comfortable and peaceful future.  Characters we know and love suffer and die, not to eccess, but realistically.  Breaking Dawn, on the other hand, devolves into a gory, bizarre alternate universe, different thematically, tonally, and every other way possible from the other books in the Twilight series.  A slew of new characters are introduced, expanded upon, and then dropped... clogging up the narrative and giving zero closure to fans who have followed the important people throughout.  Not a single character suffers or dies or sacrifices to produce the desired happy ending.

To even compare the Twilight to Harry Potter is completely innappropriate-- not just because of their differences in quality, but because in the narratives themselves,  they are completely different from one another.  This is probably the source of most of the heated debates between fans, as well as the source of the idea that readers must choose between the two.  This is not the case... we simply need to agree that one is vastly superior to the other.

A Statement of Apology

I know, I am officially the worst blogger EVER... I'm getting back in to it though... Don't give up on me yet!

Coming soon: A Statement About Why Twilight is NOT Harry Potter

Sorry Sorry Sorry

I'm really sorry, I know I have been super neglectful, I promise to come back soon.

A Statement About Atonement

On the spectrum of tragically epic and over-wrought love stories, there are very fine lines between those that are so trite as to be unwatchable, those that are good but ultimately forgettable, and those that will go down in the annals of cinema as the ones to beat. Somehow, quite inexplicably, Atonement falls at the center of it all, and I cannot stop thinking about it.

Let's start at the beginning: it is one of the most stunningly gorgeous films I have ever seen. Having watched it on a moderately sized home television, I cannot imagine what it must have looked like in the cinema, but it must have been breathtaking. This in itself is the films first flaw-- it is so beautiful as to be distracting as one becomes so mesmerized by the costumes and colors and opulence of it all that one forgets to pay attention to things like what is going on and what the characters are saying.

And what are the characters saying? Everyone seems to be talking in a forced Rosalind Russell-Cary Grant banter that is at once intriguing and incomprehensible. It also makes the actors almost painfully self-conscious. While she does an admirable job throughout the film, you can almost see the wheels turning in Keira Knightley's head with every look she gives, every cigarette she smokes, and every painfully fashionable outfit she puts on.

The self-consciousness is almost a theme of the direction. As lovely as everything is, you can't help but think about how the director took it upon himself to setup those impressive scenes, and think of his thought processes as he created his picturesque shots.

An audience should not be thinking about the director and his thought-processes.

But here's the thing: it should have gotten all of the nominations it did. It should not have won anything (except art direction). And more than the good but forgettable Cold Mountain, Atonement breaks ground on the tragic epic lovestory frontier. Because somehow, when Cecilia Tallis whispers 'Come back to me' to her tormented lover Robbie, you buy it hook line and sinker. And James McAvoy's Robbie is suitably traumatized without being pathetic while Cecilia is distant and cool without being heartless. The thing that makes this a different film is that it is not about the two of them, it is about the person who keeps them apart, Cecilia's sister Briony. The film does not dwell on their tragedy, but rather on its maker, and what she does to, yes, atone for her actions.

At the end of the day, Atonement does not and will not achieve the same status as Gone With The Wind or even Titanic, but it does break ground, and it is certainly worth seeing.

A Statement About Why the BAFTAs are Bad

I know I should be talking about how poorly I did on my Oscar picks, but a) I don't really want to talk about it and b) I would prefer to talk about it after I get back to the States and watch the tape that my lovely Mommy made for me.

So for right now, I am going to talk about how much the BAFTAs are terrible.

I had the (dis)pleasure of watching them for real on television, presented by the BBC live from Covent Garden on the 10th of February. And it was appalling. All of the obvious people won (including Marion Cotillard, leading certain Gingers to announce that the BAFTAs are an indicator of the Oscars... not so, but more on that later). I should have known something was awry when people started pointing out that Atonement was the only British film nominated, but I didn't. And when it won Best Picture, I had the sinking feeling that that was the point I was being led to all evening.

Let's be perfectly clear: the Brits like to pretend that the BAFTAs are the British 'response' to the Oscars. It's not quite working out that way-- even the British press covers the Oscars more than the BAFTAs. So what it becomes is a night of self-congratulation for British and European film that seems completely unnecessary. Nevermind that more non-Americans have won Oscars in acting catagories in the last 8 years (and not a single American won this year), it all seems a bit bitter to announce Atonement the best film of the year just moments after stating that it's the only British film on the ballot.

Now, as to why the BAFTAs are not a good indicator of the Oscars: because they don't want to be. Sometimes there is overlap, as there should be if a performance is particularly spectacular, but Marion Cotillard's BAFTA-followed-by-Oscar does not a predictor make. If anything, it highlights her Oscar upset even more.

That is all.