ISO....well, a slave, apparently.
This probably needs to be seen to be believed.
Are YOU that special somone he's looking for?
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This probably needs to be seen to be believed.
Are YOU that special somone he's looking for?
Planetarium really doesn't want to revisit this topic much, but as usual, Atrios does a pitch-perfect job of explaining in three short sentences why Gibson is screwed-up. That said, we don't really want to hear about it again.
Whoo-ee. As The CJR points out, this really is one of the more pathetic attempts by an associated press journalist to sneak in his right-wing beliefs on a totally unrelated story. Pretty lame.
Although, Planetarium supports doing this kind of thing in Associated Press news stories more often: "...It was a long day on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue today, as President Bush signed more than 70 routine bills into law. The President, notably rubbing his cramping right hand- possibly thinking back to 1973 when he would do insane amounts of cocaine and his whole body woud cramp up- agreed in response to reporter's..."
So, unless you've been living under a rock for the last three months with your fingers in your ears, you have some sort of opinion about Mel Gibson's new film, The Passion of the Christ. Planetarium hasn't seen it yet, but is actually planning to. In the meantime, however, here's one of the most no-bullshit, cut-to-the-chase, and interesting reviews we've seen of it. Not least of which because of the talkback forum that is listed after the review. Talk about eye-opening. We have to admit, our favorite post came from the guy who titled his feedback "A movie about Jesus getting his ass whooped? I am SO there."
Our favorite political analyst, Steve Perry from the Minneapolis City Pages, has got some great things to say about the presidential race:
"I watched Bush's speech tonight, and while I like to think I'm pretty good at casting a dispassionate eye toward political elocution, I could see nothing in it to excite anyone's imagination--not even the traditional GOP base, much less the fence-sitters. The big line near the end was, "We'll defend America, whatever it takes." I'm telling you, people don't want to hear that shit anymore."
The Times:
Rapes Reported by Servicewomen in the Persian Gulf and Elsewhere
WASHINGTON, Feb. 25 — The United States military is facing the gravest accusations of sexual misconduct in years, with dozens of servicewomen in the Persian Gulf area and elsewhere saying they were sexually assaulted or raped by fellow troops, lawmakers and victims advocates said on Wednesday.
An "ugly-truth" kind of person might argue that, in the same way that the Catholic Church engenders child molestation, this kind of thing is embedded in the very makeup of the Army. Planetarium will leave that to an "ugly-truth" person who actually served.
SO- turn on the DVD players, crack open a beer (or whiskey- we here at Planetarium are rocking the Maker's Mark these days), and enjoy the show, because we've got a new recommendation for your viewing pleasure here. That's right; the self-sacrificing folks we gainfully employ free of charge have scoured the shelves and come up with a film we believe merits attention.
This week's entry is entitled Suicide Club, a 2002 offering from Japan (big surprise, we know). Any movie that opens up with a subway shot wherein 54 smiling, peppy schoolgirls suddenly link hands and jump off the platform into an oncoming train has got our attention. And the movie itself is fascinating. Note the choice of words- we said fascinating, not great. Maybe it isn't a great movie. Maybe it is. Frankly, we still can't tell. But we do know this- it's very interesting, which, for our money, makes it much more worth seeing than any number of "good" films. Be warned: the bizarre leap, halfway through the film, into David Lynch territory surprised the hell out of us, too.
So there you have it- Planetarium tested, Planetarium approved. Don't say we didn't warn you. Though, all things being equal, if you look back at our recommendations over the past six months, we've got a pretty great track record going. Not to toot our own horn or anything.
Ralph, oh Ralph......
All right. Enough of this fucking around. Planetarium is out for blood from all comers, because Ralph Nader has incited some of the stupidest ideas from otherwise sensible people over the past three-plus years, including himself. So let's put it all out on the table here, shall we?
First of all: The new campaign. What a dumb-ass idea. Ralph is clearly no longer making as much sense as he once used to. HOWEVER- that being said, it's really not that big a deal. See, anyone silly enough to vote for Ralph THIS time around is clearly NOT someone who would be voting for Kerry (presumed nominee) anyways, because you either HATE democrats too much for words or have your head up a certain body cavity. Read: He won't exactly be stealing many votes this November. So, in a nutshell, whatever.
SO NOW IT'S TIME TO CALL OUT YOU DAMN DEMOCRATS WHO HAVE BEEN SPEWING THE KIND OF GARBAGE PLANETARIUM USUALLY KEEPS TIED UP IN LARGE BAGS IN THE DUMPSTER FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS:
See, it's way past the due date for the National Democratic Party to get a clue: Let's explain this slowly, since many of you who blame stupid Ralphie-boy seem to be a few tacos short of a fiesta. Planetarium (who voted Nader in 2000 and regrets nothing) knows far too many people who STILL, three years later, attack us and blame Nader and his campaign supporters for the "loss" to Bush and Co. Let's ignore the obvious retort for a moment ("Hey dumbshit- your candidate won"), and look at that ugly little creature called the facts. Maybe a teeny bit of blame should, you know, think about being directed towards the TWENTY PERCENT of registered Democrats who voted for G.W. in that race. Including over 300,000 in Florida alone- more than enough to counter all the hanging chads, governors, and disenfranchised black voters you should be taking note of.
Here's a cute excerpt from a recent letter to The Nation:
"Bush is such an unprecendented disaster that I'm willing to do almost anything to end his horrendous reign. However, there's only so much abuse I'm willing to take from Democrats. If they continue to attack progressives or resort to Texas Republican tactics by redistricting Greens out of legislative seats, then they'll just doom themselves. By further alienating some of the most active, motivated, caring and ethical people the country has to offer, they'll nail their own coffins in 2004."
Go ahead and blame us Nader-voters, idiots, because your inability to see the real enemy- both in the Dem leadership and your stubborn refusal to see anything other than a patsy to pin your stupid, badly-run campaign on- is what's making the national Democratic Party a pathetic shadow of its former self.
Help us out, will you?
If it worked for a crappy thing like "Ed", it can work for Angel, one of the finest things on TV.
And don't worry, we'll get to Ralph Nader VERY soon, my friend.
Planetarium's recommendation for the weekend is for some of that writing stuff we know some of you are so fond of reading. There's a little online site entitled Keep It Coming which boasts the ability to deliver to your inbox, twice a week, a wide variety of serial stories in just about any genre you can choose. It lets you browse and sample each of the ongoing stories advertised, so you can pick whichever one seems cool- and then, for a mere three dollars and some change, you get your very own novel coming at you like a, um, well, serial novel I guess. Give us a break- writers need weekends too. Planetarium's recommendation: the sci-fi serial "Item 2779". Check it out.
Planetarium wanted to take a little moment to give you all some goood news: The upcoming Marvel film The Punisher is going to rock. That's right, so put away your fears of another Daredevil and instead enjoy a gritty revenge flick that extends one of the most successful creative streaks in modern Hollywood history.
From the Times front-page today:
Scientists Accuse White House of Distorting Facts
You think?
......seriously, sometimes it's just enough to make you long for some good ol' fashioned Fascist-enforced education programs. Yes, the Greenhouse effect is bad. Yes, pollution causes it. Yes, destroying natural resources is bad. Planetarium assumes that at least fifteen times a day, you, gentle reader, also tend to feel like Will Farrell's character in Zoolander: "Don't any of you see this? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills here!"
So everybody and their mother wants Dean to drop out, eh? Planetarium is somewhat bummed by the overwhelming dominance of Kerry in the primaries, but at the same time, wildly unconvinced by the assertions of pro-Edwards, pro-Clark (although a little late for them now), and pro-Dean people. Everyone seems to have decided who is the most likable or electable, but frankly, put bags over their heads, and nobody would be able to pick them out in a line-up. For every flaw of Kerry, the other guys have weaknesses just as vast- how about the fact that Edwards was also prompted to run by the fact that it was looking very much like he was going to lose his re-election run for his own Senate seat? How about Clark's big fun anti-war speeches at Socialist-sponsored rallies? How about Dean's, well, do we even need to say it? The fact is, none of these guys are show ponies, they're just a warm body with as few skeletons in their past as possible, so that the Dems can try and unseat Bush. That is, if the DNC actually cares to make an effort to win this time around- they don't have a great track record with this kind of thing, you know. Caring, that is.
Allow Planetarium to be the one to break the awful news to you: Angel has been cancelled. Yes, that's right, one of the only shows left on TV that was still worth watching has just gotten the axe. No, they didn't see it coming. Yes, they will finish out the season. And Planetarium has gotten hold of a heartbreaking posting by show creator Joss Whedon, thanking the fans, talking about the show, and whatnot. If you want to read it, click here and scroll about a third of the way down. If you don't care that much, at least take a moment to recognize genius when you find it, and read these parting words from Mr. Whedon himself:
I've never made mainstream TV very well. I like surprises, and TV isn't about surprises, unless the surprise is who gets voted off of something. I've been lucky to sneak this strange, strange show over the airwaves for as long as I have. I don't FEEL lucky, but I understand that I am.Thanks all for your support, your community, and your perfectly sane devotion. It's meant a lot. Remember the words of the poet:
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the road less traveled by and they CANCELLED MY FRIKKIN' SHOW. I totally shoulda took the road that had all those people on it. Damn."
See you soon.
-j.
Damn is right.
This ostentatious title of a posting is really nothing more than an excuse for Planetarium to direct your view to a deft and insightful essay by the otherwise unreliable A.O. Scott, the Times' film critic. Whether you agree or disagree with his taste in film (Planetarium tends towards the latter), Scott has penned a dead-on piece about the disappearance of the star actor. Even while finding his choices of "great actors" somewhat humorous (Charlize Theron? Really? You must be high), it is absolutely true that with more "celebs" than we know what to do with, the idea of a start actor surpassing his film with each go-around is fast fading as a desirable commodity. And it's true that the notion of a great film vis-a-vis the notion of great acting are fast becoming two very different things. Return of the King is clearly one of the best films of the year, but Elijah, Sean, and Viggo had circles acted around them by, for example, Holly Hunter in Thirteen.
Is it that obvious Planetarium is an Oscar buff, no matter how ridiculous the awards get with each passing year?
antinomy [æn'tinohmee]
noun
(plural: -mies)
1
opposition of one law, principle, or rule to another; contradiction within a law
2
(Philosophy) contradiction existing between two apparently indubitable propositions; paradox
[ETYMOLOGY: 16th Century: from Latin antinomia, from Greek: conflict between laws, from anti- + nomos law]
antinomic [æntih'nomik] adjective
anti'nomically adverb(ial)
Does Planetarium even need to remind you any more that it's Friday, and therefore the day of yet another excellent piece by Krugman in the Times? He really has inherited that magical gift of being able to say- usually in the most coherent, plain-spoken way- why we're right and they're wrong. Planetarium is dreadfully envious. Of course, perhaps if our job consisted of sitting around thinking up witty one-offs and finding statistical evidence for them all day long, perhaps we'd be right there with him.
On the other side of the political spectrum.......I just don't know what to say. I know the right-wing loves Karl Rove and all, but really.....this is just disturbing. Heed our warning: this site is not for the faint of heart.
But hey, we wouldn't leave you without some good news: It looks like 50 First Dates is gonna be pretty great. Those of us who loved the Sandler/Barrymore pairing in The Wedding Singer are going to be treated to what the New York Times, of all places, is calling one of the "most daring and funny romantic comedies". So check it out. Of course, if that's not your cup of tea, well, we have good news for you other folks as well: The new version of Dawn of the Dead has gotten the official geek seal of approval. Which, given how much they were planning to hate upon it, must mean it's damn good. How could it not be- Sarah Polley! Mu-ah!
I think Kate made agreat point in the last posting, mentioning TV life. I remember watching the NBC 75th Anniversary special, and it was featuring all these clips from the Cosby show, Family Ties, I LoveLucy, etc. And it was so bizarre, because Planetarium realized that THIS was our hsitory, fictional television shows, clips we all remember, excerpts that never happened from an existence we all remember. Creepy, no?
To: Kate Silver
Subject: Big Fish, Tim Burton, the id of the psyches, familial struggles, Eddie
Vedder, the “other woman”.
Finally got back from seeing Big Fish a couple of nights ago, much to my satisfaction. That’s really what it’s about, after all, isn’t it? Satisfaction? The perfect resolution? Above and beyond the typical Hollywood ending, past the point of narrative, into a sort of ultimate “happily ever after”? Though perhaps I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Yes, best to start, not at the beginning or ending, but at a halfway house, right between “then” and “there”, because it seems that’s what Tim Burton demands of all his subjects: a continual feedback loop, always starting the race squarely out of sight of both the opening gate and the finish line.
Big Fish is perhaps as much a Tim Burton film as any other one he’s made- especially at this point in his career, when things like Planets of the Apes start to look like detours he wandered into for fear of telling the same story over and over. I can immediately see what drew him into adapting this novel- no other Hollywood director of the past decade or so has been so obviously crying out for a full-on Oedipal struggle as Burton. To recap: Director starts off his auteur-status career with Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, a youthful, raging id of the psyches of film if ever their was one. He had just passed the mirror stage, and was reveling in all the pretty colors the world had to offer him. Beetlejuice added to this flair by showing that even night terrors are nothing more than flipsides of a wonderful, surreal palatte of life’s offerings, that inevitably display as much appeal as the harmless. But kids grow up mighty fast these days, and Burton seemed to realize that with Edward Scissorhands, where we see the director as perpetual outsider, and literally the entire world around him ends up playing the role of the vengeful father to Winona Ryder’s unattainable object of desire. I’m always tempted to see the film as a near-explicit allegory of Burton’s then-recent submersion into the Hollywood machine- a frustrated loner who wouldn’t hurt a fly, trying only to make works of beauty, but doomed to be forever thwarted by a cold, uncomprehending world. Reinforcing this was the fact that Burton made “Scissorhands” right in between the two films that vaulted him to the top of the A-list: Batman and Batman Returns- clearly classic Hollywood experiences if ever there were any.
But I don’t want to digress too much; after all, that seemed to be what the nineties were about for Burton: a way of distracting his growing-up-too-fast, psychology-obsessed mind with other pleasures, setting objet-a placebos in front of his raging desire for the ungraspable. Naturally, they were still items that hit close to home: Ed Wood is about as Burton as you can get, and the similarities are undeniable, even to detractors. And Burton seemed to have looked at Wood and said, “Hey, I can do that too!”, because immediately following next was Mars Attacks!, an homage as heartfelt as can be managed with a $50 million budget. However, it’s clear that, no matter what he tackled, the man was on a collision course with his muse. Sleepy Hollow is a film with more burning psycho-sexual undertones than anything since Blue Velvet. I mean, come on: Johnny Depp’s Ichabod, the man of logic and science and industry, literally plunges his probe into a gap in a bleeding tree; need we say more? The film’s infatuation with Depp’s naivete, Christina Ricci’s pubescent, innocent sexuality, and the fear of castration represented by the Headless Horseman were things that Burton seemed like he had been trying to say for years; trying to deal with them only seemed to make him more obsessed, more determined to tackle his issues head-on.
Imagine his surprise, then, when the script for “Big Fish” was literally tossed into his lap. The ostensible protagonist hates his father, loves his mother, can’t always communicate well with his wife, and is resolutely determined not to follow in Dad’s footsteps. I don’t know anything about Burton’s background, and I don’t particularly care to, or think it’s important. His celluloid struggles of the misbegotten son and his families have painted a legend his real life could never live up to. Coincidence, then, that this is the exact belief of the son in “Big Fish”? That Dad is a fraud, a phony, making up lies to conceal the fact that he hates his dull-as-reality life? It almost reminded me of Eddie Vedder at times: a man who dislikes painting in broad strokes, who wishes all the grandiosity around him would just disappear; that, gosh, if only we could all be simple and true, then things would be okay. And yes, I did relish the irony when the closing credits faded to the melodies of a new Pearljam song, written just for the film.
“Big Fish” turns out, of course, to be all about the realization of the extremities that make up reality, and the fact that our lives are exactly as we tell them, whatever the hell we choose to make of that. It actually takes a mysterious Ur-women, the presumed “other woman”, to strip away the cobwebs that have blinded our earnest son from the fact that his Dad’s life has always been just as real as you could imagine. And we, and the son, end up resolved to provide the father with exactly the dying farewell that he wants- ultimate wish fulfillment, the attainment of the unattainable. It’s reality meant as fairy tale meant as reality; for that reason, it seems that “Big Fish”, to me, is all about getting what you can never have. Of course, to Burton, this is more than just the message: it’s what he’s desperately hoping is the truth. That it will turn out, in the end, that what we always wanted is what we always have.
To: Alex McCown
Subject: Oedipus Wrecks
Alex, I agree with you on a number of levels, and I thank you for refreshing my memory on a number of Tim Burton films, many of which I’ve seen (with the exception of Sleepy Hollow). Through a number of his characters and sprawling comic book landscapes, Burton’s modus operandi isn’t far from Woody Allen. And why should I bring up Woody Allen? Allen’s Deconstructing Harry is about a writer who cannot function in real life, only in art, where he skews the truth, obscuring the unsavory aspects with pseudonyms. There is also a scene near the end of the film where the characters of Bloom’s fantasy/reality gather to mourn and praise him. It is very much like the ending of "Harry," where Harry Block’s (Allen) characters gather to praise him and offer him an award. Whether the characters actually exist, in the end, is beside the point. Allen and Burton both have tendencies to begin stories, not at point A, but rather around point C. Somewhere in the middle. I admire both in their manner of storytelling that’s totally post-modern. Big Fish taught me an awful lot about storytelling (Todd Solondz take note).
I’m not entirely convinced that the protagonist hates his father. I think he’s unhappy with himself, even though he’s living the dream of any bed-wetting professional: Bloom Jr. lives in a gorgeous contemporary apartment in Paris with an equally gorgeous, young wife. Both are writers. He hasn’t so much entered adulthood, but the pages of Architectural Digest. Bloom Junior’s life lends the few doses of modernism in this story -- Dad isn’t telling tall-tales via email -- but overall, I think son is frustrated with a "dull-as-reality life," as you call it. Dad’s yarns represent an oral tradition that was alive and well during his day, a tradition that will die with him unless son participates.
What does this say about Burton? So many of his principle characters have misgivings about adulthood. At some point in our lives, I think we strive to grip childhood like PeeWee to his bicycle. But sooner or later we have to let go, admitting to ourselves, "I meant to do that." But do we? Aging is not always a pleasant experience. Even Allen, working through more psychosexual frustration than Alex Portnoy, is frustrated with the aging process. He surrounds both himself and his characters with a bevy of young, attractive women. In the end, perhaps both directors are excising the desire to sleep with Christina Ricci.
To: Kate Silver
Re: Ooohhh! Good call!!
I say, Kate, good show on the “Deconstructing Harry” reference. See? THIS is why we all should’ve made that or Celebrity the last Allen film we saw. I’m too busy trying to shake the wreckage of Anything Else from my head, I can’t remember all the great material from before that I used to be able to mine with such abandon.
Yeah, clearly no way Bloom Jr. actually hates his Dad. He just, y’know, can’t stand to be in the same room with him. An impulse we all clearly can relate to with at least one family member, right? I hadn’t even noticed that he lived in Pairs with his beautiful French wife. Wow, maybe Burton’s taking the piss on all of us latter-day bohemians, with our fuel-efficient cars, our fancy-pants art music (again: see the Pearljam issue), and our willful denial of the fact that our arms-distance appreciation of culture happened a long time ago, and isn’t any more interesting a way to live now.
So what are we saying here? Clearly, it was a damn fine movie. But how do we describe it when recommending to friends? Or more important, family? “Um, yeah, so Dad, you know how we all hate you and wish to supplant your patriarchal role so that we can have sex with Mom in an attainment of the Ego-drive? Well, there’s the movie you’d really like....”
-Alex P.S. Maybe we should apply these exact same criterion to critique You Got Served.
To: Alex McCown
Subject: Deconstructing Boogaloo
You’re right about Allen. I’d suggest a review of his next project, but I
think we can safely agree that neither of us will see it in the theatre.
Sorry about the Allen tangent, there is usually one with me, kind of like the
Seinfeld tangent (dissertation to come?) and the upgraded model: the Curb
Your Enthusiasm tangent. Though – to stay on-track – both television programs
share in the post-modern storytelling (PMS for short) aesthetic that I’ve
become accustomed to. I find it helpful and a little artful to apply this
aesthetic to my own storytelling, precisely because I’m accustomed to such
tangents. I cannot tell a story straight (that is, beginning to conclusion)
orally. A friend of mine once told me that I reminded him of a bop-jazz
artist in technique because I "Scat". With Big Fish, the viewer receives a
mosaic of story, and it’s up to us to fit them together into some semblance
of narrative.
And again, I think you’ve made a great point about the general
public’s lazinless when it comes to culture. We live in this weird reality-TV sphere in which popular culture has become the culture. Burton reminds us, in a roundabout way, that a rich oral tradition once existed. That doesn’t mean the stories were dull. They were just as informative, imaginative, and scandalous. Even though Access Hollywood wasn’t reporting on them. That all of this appears in a glossy mainstream movie really impresses me. Hopefully my explanation makes sense. So, what did you have for dinner last night?
Best,
Kate
So, it appears that it's yet another Friday night, and Planetarium is at home, listening to/watching the Pearljam Touring band 2000 DVD. Amazing, of course, and an excellent soundtrack to melancholy. Those of you who haven't given Pearljam a chance in quite some time, wait until the next time you're melancholy, then try again- we guarantee you'll be surprised by how great it sounds.
So- Kerry/Edwards ticket? Kerry/Dean ticket, as Dean seems to be arguing for these days? Planetarium's holding out for the Sharpton/Mosely-Braun ticket.
Some folks seem to have spent too much time checking out the latest episode of The Apprentice to notice that some damn fine things are available for your viewing pleasure. First of all: Kudos to the Swedes, whose amazing film I Am Curious- Yellow has somehow not retained as much of its cultural value over the years as it should. A recent re-viewing of this film by Planetarium was striking, if only for its vivide distinction between what happens if you're born in the only country birthed upon a notion of free trade, as opposed to having, you know, some 800+ years of history. A great movie, and well worth seeing.
Also: The Family Guy, seasons 1,2, and 3 are now readily buy-able. For real. Get them now. Now, it's true. It's really good. Planetarium knows you need a laugh now and then. We sure do.
Hey all, Planetarium's back with a whole host of things to talk about....though we have to say, having several tons of snow dumped upon you from above doesn't always make for the greatest time. At least not when you're trying to maneuver a Jetta uphill.
First of all, for those of you not in the know, Japan has been in the midst of one of the greatest cinema revivals since America in the 70's. Scorcese, Fuller, Coppola? They've got Miike, Kitano, and a whole host of other up-and-comers to the throne. Takashi Miike in particular, devour anything you can get your hands on by him. The guy makes multiple films a year, and almost every one is better than anything you've seen in English recently. Notable standouts include Ichi the Killer, Audition, and our personal favorite bizarro musical odyssey, The Happiness of the Katakuris.
Also, it's incredible, but a good percentage of these new works of cinema verite are squarely in the horror genre. Pulse (aka Kairo) comes to mind, as does the fucked-up, could-NEVER-be-made-in-America trashy genius of Battle Royale. Seriously- can you picture any American distributor screening a film about middle school kids being forced to hunt and kill each other?
On to the music tip. A good number of you may know about this already, but the thing is, it's rare these days that Planetarium stumbles upon a rock record that is even vaguely impressive. It's all the more amazing when parts of it sound somewhat...well.....emo (shudder). But that's exactly what Desaparecidos somehow manages to pull off, rather like a clumsy freshman fumbling at a coed's bra strap...only, you know, anti-capitalist. Also on the list of rock bands actually being good are the fresh-faced nouveau-rockers of Pretty Girls Make Graves. The album The New Romance has been spinning in Planetarium's Cd player for weeks now. Honestly. Do you know how rarely that happens?!?!
Of course, we can't let this post go by without a quick mention of the fact that John Kerry will apparently be the Democratic nominee, barring some unforeseen miracle-working by either Dean or Edwards. Clark really blew it, didn't he? Thank God, is all we can say. Funny how we're all about to be Kerry supporters, when for the most part I have nothing nice to say about the man, other than the fact that maybe the South will be impressed by the fact that he killed some Vietnamese soldiers with his bare hands.
Janet Jackson's breast? Somewhat less than what we imagined.