Thus endeth the hiatus

I hope.

Going to start cranking up this blog again. The election, Christmas, life, work and everything else took over. If you have ever bothered to stop by, please bother again.

Californication: A true male fantasy

Spent the last two weeks getting caught up on the David Duchovny vehicle Californication.

Other than the story of a sardonic, haggered, seen-better-days writer now maddeningly single with a precocious daughter, I really don’t see what it has to do with me.

I like the show. Really. Some of the lines made me laugh aloud, which is rare for any show. And of course I’m the sucker for the Flawed Hero. Don’t we all see ourselves in the stories we choose?

Here are the basics. Duchovny is Hank Moody, once considerered an up-and-coming novelist (the backstory is that he once drew the attention of Bret Easton Ellis. Make of that what you will) sold out and moved to Hollywood once his book “God Hates Us All” is turned into a movie renamed “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” and starring “Tom and Katie.” (Can’t help but think edgy novelist Rick Moody was the inspiration  — for the name at least.)

Moody does the full LA and ends up an arrogant prick. So much so that his longtime girlfriend, and the mother of his daughter, takes up with another man and leaves him stone cold. He still loves her, of course, and much of the series observes his half-hearted attempts to woo her, even as she prepares to marry the ever-stiff Bill.

Most of the time, Hank medicates himself with whiskey and women and much of the show’s titillation comes from the sex scenes and the locker room talk. But you don’t have to watch the series long to realize that the creators are much more interested in the question of whether rehabilitation is truly possible. Whether once you lie down with dogs (so to speak, don’t come after me, McCain campaign), can you ever pull yourself up and be normal, functioning member of society? Can you be a good father? It’s like what they always say about the homeless. Once they’re out on the street for too long, you can’t pull them back.

More on I’m Not There

This film remains in my head for the second, or maybe third, straight day.

And hell, as long as I am writing this blog for myself, I might as well be self-indulgent. It’s the Dylanesque thing to do.

Despite my first reaction to the Richard Gere sequence on my first viewing, I have become convinced that if Ledger’s character is the heart of the movie, Gere is the soul, while Blanchett is the smooth surface, who serves up misdirection. She’s the joker in the deck.

It’s the Gere sequence that drew the greatest amount of derision from critics. Salon’s terrific writer Stephanie Zacharek admitted to feeling sleepy every time she heard wagon wheels. She wanted to get back to Blanchett, the live-wire 1966 Dylan.  And I am sure many viewers agreed with her.

Part of the reason for my change of heart involves a greater exploration of the source material. The first time around, I spotted the direct references to Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, the Sam Peckinpah movie in which Dylan acted in a supported role. But as it dawned on me (with some helpful reading) that this was also the Dylan after his mysterious motorcycle accident, the Dylan who holed up in upstate New York with the Band, who produced “The Basement Tapes” and “John Wesley Harding.” This was the Dylan who retreated from society and embraced the Cowboy Fantasy.

Five years ago, I did the same thing, retreating out to the Four Corners, near Durango, Colorado. I too embraced the fantasy that the West could heal. I was wrong.

The clincher, however, is the absolute blood-chilling funeral scene featuring a dead teenage girl dressed as a china doll, as the mournful “Goin’ to Acapulco” is sung by Jim James of My Morning Jacket. This Louisville band is the modern equivalent of the Band, its music serving as a survey of the landscape of the South. There was something so pronounced, so affecting by that scene that I haven’t been able to get that song or that moment out of my head. It’s David Lynch by way of Federico Fellini, with some Peckinpah left over.

Man of Action, Man in Black

Fascinating piece in Sunday’s Washington Post by the talented film critic Stephen Hunter, in which he views John McCain and Barack Obama through the lens of cinema archetypes.

McCain, Hunter writes, comes from a line of movie tough-guys, the John Waynes, the Robert Mitchums. He’s the wisecracking pilot straight from those black-and-white films on TCM, to whom Hunter gives props for bagging a beautiful, rich second wife. (“Nobody will write this anywhere except me here, but we guys, you know what: We admire another guy for making a great catch.” Hunter writes)

Is John McCain a two-fisted man of action like the legendary Duke?

McCain, Hunter also says, would be the only president in recent times who has actually killed someone, a point not often mentioned when his biography is detailed. The question, Hunter writes, is whether McCain, like John Wayne, always considers settling a matter with violence first. (Perhaps McCain should put “The Quiet Man” at the top of his Netflix queue.)

BP/DVD Review: I’m Not There

When was the last time you watched a film again immediately? Last night, I watched Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There and found it absorbing and somewhat perplexing, but my recollection was that it dragged on too long and took a left turn two-thirds through with Richard Gere that damaged the overall arc of the story.

But it nagged at me all day Sunday. So I slid the DVD in and watched it again. Maybe it was the tequila Saturday night, but the second time around, the film revealed more to me than before. And I think I began to understand its undeniable brilliance.

The inventive premise in this Bob Dylan biopic is that Dylan, always a chameleon, could not be played by one actor. So Haynes employed six, including, most famously, Cate Blanchett, playing the 1966-era Dylan at the height of his fame. None of the characters are actually named “Bob Dylan.” (As has been noted often, even Bob Dylan wasn’t named that. Robert Zimmerman took the name from Dylan Thomas.)

I’m not a Dylanologist–I have no more than a passing familiarity with his classic albums from the 60s, although I’m a big believer in his later work, including “Blood on the Tracks” and “Time Out of Mind.” But even so, I could recognize how Haynes was attempting a high-wire act of fusing the ambiguity and inscrutable nature of Dylan’s lyrics with his persona.

Rejected Titles for the New Indiana Jones Movie

Indy’s back–and he’s uh, 65! (Yes, we know it’s the new 55, but still.) Here are some proposed titles rejected by the studio that emphasized the senior side of everyone’s favorite archaeologist:

10. Indiana Jones and the Lost LifeAlert Necklace

9. Indiana Jones and Those Rough Looking Kids Across the Street

8. Indiana Jones and the Corn-Cob of Danger

7. Indiana Jones and Can You Believe They Don’t Serve Egg Beaters in this Place?

6. Indiana Jones and the Mysterious Grandson Who Wants to Study Modern Dance

5. Indiana Jones and the Ten Percent Tip

4. Indiana Jones and the Guy Down at the Elks Lodge Who Thinks He Knows Everything

3. Indiana Jones and the TV Shows These Days That Have All That Swearing

2. Indiana Jones and the Strange Case of the Bus Fare Increase

1. Indiana Jones and the Unexplained Growth

BP Double Bill: Against All Odds/Out of the Past

Baby, the odds are my back isn’t gonna hold up much longer.

Sometimes movies choose you. You can’t choose them.

In this case, as with much of young adult life, I didn’t know any better.

So when I saw Against All Odds as a senior in high school, I thought it was a fairly cool movie, as I did with Risky Business, Top Gun, Blade Runner or anything of the era. Football, Southern California, a beautiful woman, and a fire-engine red Porsche 911. Murder, intrigue, sex, cold Mexican beer.

And you know what, I still think it’s a fairly cool movie.

This is what I mean about certain films being imprinted upon you. There’s little I can do about my warm feelings toward this movie, because they are intertwined with the state of being a teenager, hopeful and easily impressed, seeing the film at the old General Cinemas at University City in Columbus with my high school girlfriend, Jennie. The good news is that after a recent viewing, it holds up well, better than I could have hoped. (The bad news is that are many more movies of the time I cherished that do not. The Last Starfighter, anyone? I mean, Robert Preston?)

I didn’t learn until much, much later that Against All Odds is, of course, a remake of one of the most celebrated film noirs of all time (should that be films noir?), Out of the Past. That 1947 film is probably best remembered as a cold war between two of the smoldering tough guys of the time, Robert Mitchum and Kirk Douglas, blowing smoke at each other, speaking elliptically, an undercurrent of tension always crackling. Mitchum sauntering through the California countryside in a trenchcoat and fedora, a former private eye who can’t escape his past.

The basic plot of the two films is the same, but the similarities end fairly quickly. Both begin in the present and dissolve into the past and both involve the staple of the noir, the femme fatale. But here is where the more modern movie, like so many attempted remakes of and homages to 40s classics, loses its footing.

Living ‘Smokey and the Bandit’

It’s been awhile since I have posted thanks to campaign-related work in West Virginia. But while I was there, I stumbled on to something, well, exceptional.

Parked in the lot at the Holiday Inn Express in Charleston were a bevy of black Pontiac Trans-Ams, tricked out to resemble the car Burt Reynolds drove in Smokey and the Bandit.

That’s right. T-top black Trans Ams. And just how cool is that?

Charleston is a stopover for Bandit Run ‘08, a road rally that runs from Ohio to Georgia, presumably in more time than the Bandit and the Snowman had to pick up and deliver those cases of Coors.

Since I was there covering the Democratic race, of course, we have to relate this item somehow to the West Virginia primary. So here’s an homage to the theme song of the film, recast in modern terms.

Two hundred delegates down, loaded up and runnin’
We’re gonna do what they say can’t be done
We got a long way to go and a short time to get there
She might be down, but watch ol’ Clinton run.

Keep your foot hard on the pedal…girl, never mind them brakes
let it all hang out cause we’ve got a run to make
The votes are there in West Virginia and there’s more in Appalachia
and we’ll bring them back no matter what it takes

Two hundred delegates down, loaded up and runnin’
We’re gonna do what they say can’t be done
We got a long way to go and a short time to get there
She might be down, but watch ol’ Clinton run.

Those DC boys got the pressure on, but they ain’t on the trail
And they ain’t gonna rest until you bail
So you gotta dodge ‘em…. you gotta duck ‘em
You’ve gotta keep that campaign truckin….
just put that hammer down and give it hell

Somewhere, Jerry Reed is NOT smiling.

Five Movies for Hillary

As it appears to be heading for the twilight, here are five films that may best describe the Hillary Clinton presidential campaign:

1. Das Boot (1981)

Plot: A German U-boat goes on a long and ultimately doomed quest to return home safely.

Key line: They won’t catch us this time! Not this time! They haven’t spotted us! No, they’re all snoring in their bunks! Or, you know what? They’re drinking at the bar, celebrating our sinking! Not yet, my friends. Not yet!

2. The Sweet Smell of Success (1957)

The plot: A famous but tyrannical columnist competes with a young, ambitious press agent who is forced to adopt sleazy tricks to make it big.

Key line: I’d hate to take a bite outta you. You’re a cookie full of arsenic.

3. Primal Fear (1996)

The plot: An ambitious Chicago lawyer is thwarted by a mysterious individual who assumes multiple personalities.

Key Line: I speak. You do not speak. Your job is to just sit there and look innocent.

4. Network (1976)

The plot: A ruthless and ratings-obssessed TV network executive cynically exploits a deranged ex-TV anchor’s ravings and revelations about the media to advance her career.

Key line: I seem to be inept at everything except my work. I’m goddamn good at my work and so I confine myself to that. All I want out of life is a 30 share and a 20 rating.

5. Red River (1948)

The plot: A young cowhand challenges the trail boss’s leadership and splits from the herd. The trail boss relentless pursues him, swearing revenge.

Key line: Cherry was right. You’re soft, you should have let ‘em kill me, ’cause I’m gonna kill you. I’ll catch up with ya. I don’t know when, but I’ll catch up. Every time you turn around, expect to see me, ’cause one time you’ll turn around and I’ll be there.

Honorable Mention: Election (1999)

The plot: An ambitious student sees her campaign for student council president upset by a popular athlete.

Key line: He was no competition for me; it was like apples and oranges. I had to work a little harder, that’s all, see I believe in the voters; they understand that elections aren’t just popularity contests, they know this country was built by people just like me who work very hard and don’t have everything handed to them on a silver spoon.

The people at Slate figured this out way back and produced this great mashup:

Hillary: Requiem for a Heavyweight?

Hillary Clinton has repeatedly compared to herself to Rocky Balboa, the pugnacious Philadelphian who never gave up. (Wags, of course, responded by saying Rocky lost his fight to a younger, famous black man.)

But if we are coming to the end of the road for the Clinton campaign, we would be derelict in not offering this clip up, if only because it encapsulates everything that has gone on during the past few months.

It helps if you liken Rocky climbing up the ropes to Clinton’s win in Ohio. Oh, and you also have to pretend Talia Shire is Howard Dean. Then it all works.