Sunday, November 30, 2003
Love...Actually
I demand a lot of my films. They have to be coherent, witty, interesting, perhaps with a smart, underlying thematic purpose or position... except when it comes to romantic comedies. I will watch just about anything where two goofy lead characters stumble and trip their way towards each other. This may go a long way to explain why I adore a film like Love Actually. This film has no earthly right to be as entertaining as it was.

Crammed and stuffed with just about every romantic cliché imaginable, the lonely loser in love, the cheating husband, the smart kid who knows more about love than the adults, the wronged boyfriend who finds a soulmate while recovering, the office romance, the misunderstanding, the unrequainted love and of course, the couple who meet in the most awkward of situations, but find out hell, we could make this work. In spite of this, or maybe because of it, Love Actually gave me the warm fuzzies... the kind of warm fuzzies I usually get after an afternoon watching classic romantic comedies of the 30s or listening to my favorite Coldplay song.

Love Actually is more about capturing a feeling or mood than good, solid filmmaking. What saves this film from becoming complete dreck is its amazing, brilliant cast. These top notch British actors inject their one dimensional characters with spirit, heart and soul which make the audience long for a happy resolution to their individual stories. And a happy resolution is what we get... for the most part.

As an excerise in evoking sentiment, Love Actually succeeds. In our cynical, frantically paced world, "love actually is all around us," Hugh Grant's character states in his opening monologue, if we could only stop long enough to appreciate it. You can't help but love a movie whose overall message is that... well, at least I can't.

posted by runnerbird | 1:51 PM

Thursday, November 27, 2003
Thankful
This time of year, it is important to remember and acknowledge the things in life that are important. I am thankful for my family, my friends and general good health, that almost goes without saying, but it is usually those trivial things that make this life so sweet. So, in keeping with this holiday, here are a few things I am thankful for this year:

Cabot-Era SVU Episodes on USA Network:

I've been mildly disappointed with this season of SVU. The episodes seem to follow a few general themes A) Corporations are evil B) social issues explained in the most melodramatic ways possible. I'm afraid SVU has jumped the shark. Watching older episodes on USA, I've come to realize Alex Cabot was the proverbial glue that held this show together. She brought a certain calm and coolness to the show that is severely lacking this season. She was the voice of utter detached reason. So while the detectives were "taking it personal," she was there to provide levity, a degree of grounding and the occassional snarky comment. As the saying goes, you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone and Alex Cabot was gone too soon. Thankfully, Cabot-era episodes (Season 2-4) are alive and played every night ("every night...every night") on USA.

Queer And Here:

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy makes my planet spin around, like a record, baby, right round, round, round! The Fab Five make me laugh. They make me smile. They brighten my day. They are like a rainbow and sunshine rolled into five distinct and attractive packages. Queer As Folk is my ultimate guilty pleasure. From an intellectual point of view, QAF has no real value, but lucky that side of my brain is turned off while watching multiple episodes of Showtime's signature series. Despite myself, I find myself caring about Brian and Justin. I wonder about Mel and Lindsey. I smile at Ted's snarky comments and relish Michael's sweetness.

No More Matrix

Thankfully, there will be no more puzzling films about this constructed reality to confuse the hell out of me. The Matrix phenomenon is over. Hopefully, it will fade away peacefully into the recesses of film history. While I still believe the first film is a turning point of visual effects, stunts and riveting storytelling, the original film's power and resonance was diluted in its subsequent sequels. The Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions proved more isn't always better. Just because you have the technology to make a ten minute digital fight between Neo and thousands of Agent Smiths... doesn't mean you should do it.

Rooney

As a general rule of thumb, "actors turned musican" is phrase that ensures a band will suck, but for my money, Rooney is the exception to this rule. Fronted by the dreamy Robert Carmine (from The Princess Diaries, brother of Jason Schartzman, son of Talia "Adrienne" Shire, nephew of Francis Ford Coppola and cousin of Nicholas Cage), this band is pure, stripped down rock-pop with fiercely catchy hooks and equally infectous lyrics. Rooney's songs feel like old, comfortable shoes... easy to slip into, easy and relaxed. There is nothing too serious about them. Simplicity at its finest.

Writing long, boring lists like this distract me from the fact that I feel as if I'm about to explode. Funny that Thanksgiving, a distinctly American holiday, is so much about consumption, gluttony and over-indulgence. Hmmm, what does this say about us? Never mind, I don't want to think about this too much. This turkey is making me sleepy. I think I need a nap.

posted by runnerbird | 11:25 PM

Sunday, November 23, 2003
The Lone Gunman
Yesterday was the 40th Anniversary of JFK's assassination in Dallas. In my X-files loving, the government is evil days of my youth, I firmly believed in the whole conspiracy theory explanation for his murder. The was fairly confident the CIA or mafia were somehow involved and that our government covered up the truth, but now I've come to the conclusion that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. Why? Well, first and foremost, I have a better understand of Oswald's motivation. He was an unremarkable yet highly intelligent man that probably would have done great, productive things with his life, if someone cared enough about him when he was a child. He formed no relationships or attachments in his life. His mother thought he was a burden. His father died before he was born.

During his formative years, he spent days riding the New York City subways watching the world go by and feeling desperately unattached to it. He felt he was destined to do great things, yet as his life wore on, he probably realized he would never inspire or change the world. He tried to defect to USSR and Cuba in the hopes of becoming someone, but he was rejected. This rejection probably pushed him deeper into depravity. When he realized JFK was coming to his city Dallas and that his motorcade was passing right by his place of employment, he probably thought it was fate. He saw his opportunity to "distinguish" himself, to be remembered, to live on, to be cared about and talked about. In the end, he got his wish. People are still interested in his life, trying to retrace his steps and ultimately try to answer the fundmental of all questions... why?

The assasination of JFK marks a break in America's cultural, political and social history. If you are old enough, at some point in your life someone will ask you, "where were you when Kennedy was shot?" Many see it as the day "America lost its innocence." While apart of me never likes to see history in such reductive terms, I understand the sentiment. For many Americans, John F. Kennedy was a symbol of hope. He saw envisioned a truly free America where civil liberties existed for all, a progressive America that invested in the future, an America that would put a man on the moon and to have this symbol for such noble ideas struck down in such a violent, horrific way must have been a blow to the American psyche. It was also the first American tragedy broadcast instantly across the television airwaves. Everyone shares the collective memory of Walter Cronike announcing the President's death, removing his glasses and taking a breath. Some of us might have even seen Oswald shot by Jack Ruby live on NBC. I sometimes wonder what America would have been like if that day never happened. What would we as a nation be like if Oswald missed?

Ya see, I can talk coherently about things other than TV... and speaking of TV:

Law and Order SVU: To say that the 100th episode of Law and Order: SVU was a big disappointment would be an understatement. First off, who wrote this episode and have they ever seen an episode of SVU before because some of the lines coming out of Detective Olivia Benson's mouth are things that she would NEVER in a million years ever say. Second, the courtroom scenes were way too melodramatic. I think some of Douglas Sirk films from the fifties were less melodramatic. Third, as much as I want to like our new ADA Casey Novak, is it asking too much for her to win a motion? Possibly a case at some point this season? Where did she go to law school? Mexico? Did her law degree come in a Lucky Charms cereal box? I'm starting to wonder.

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy: ... was so worth the wait. Prime Grade Carson snark. Jai with longer hair. Kyan looking oh-so yummy. Ted fishing. Thom working miracles in the house. I love this show!

Ed: In a sure sign that within my cynical shell beats the heart of a true romantic... or that I am deep the middle of PMS, I cried during Ed's proposal to his long-time love Carol. Ed found a list Carol made when she was younger of her 25 Favorite things and proceeded to give Carol all of these items before popping the question. Tres romantic, a bit goofy and completely cheesy, but I was still weeping like a little girl who just found out there is no Santa Claus.

I purchased the Looney Tunes Golden Collection this week in an effort to recapture my sunny, happy days of childhood. I watched some of the six minute shorts this morning and I can safely say it was worth the money I spent. There is just something timeless about Bugs Bunny. "Of course you know... this means WAR!"

And finally, to wrap up this end of week post, thanks to all the fine folks who dropped me an email the past few weeks. I'm still puzzled why anyone who doesn't know me would want to read this, but it is nice to hear from everyone.

posted by runnerbird | 6:36 PM

Sunday, November 16, 2003
Deeper and Darker
I realized my ultimate deep and dark guilty pleasure is probably ABC's Extreme Makeover. On sheer principle I should absolutely hate this show. It promotes the notion that self-worth and happiness is not only tied with outward appearance but can also be brought if you have the means. It is shamelessly promoting the fact that if you have the perfect nose, the perfect chest, the perfect hairstyle, the perfect outfit and the perfect smile, you too have a happy, fullfilled life. Essentially, this show is everything I hate about our Western consumer capitalist culture distilled and packaged into an hour reality show, but I still watch every week. I still get a little choked up to see people so happy at their new nose, breasts and perfect, white smile. I still smile and get a little misty when their parents, spouse and children see the new, improved versions of their loved ones in the show's "final reveal" and yes, I hate myself greatly for buying into it.

In a cruel twist of fate, this Tuesday night, I must decide between watching an all-new episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy or Law and Order: SVU's 100th episode. Like Sophie's Choice, this one may be impossible to decide. On the one hand, I'm thirsting for brand-new Carson snark, but on the other hand, Benson and Stabler solving a freaky sex crime in their fabulous couture... oy, this one might be a draw.

On Friday night, I had a fabulous dinner with my friends Sarah and Felicia at the Olive Garden ("I haven't been to the Olive Garden in like forever...") where I learned my tolerance for alcohol has dropped greatly since my weeknight recreational social drinking with my fellow Bluewavers has ceased. Thursday morning hangovers are so much better when the rest of your co-workers stagger into the office with the exact same affliction.

posted by runnerbird | 4:45 PM

Tuesday, November 10, 2003
Deep, Dark Secrets
Since I've admitted to watching and liking Tarzan, I got to thinking what shows are apart of my deep, dark secret viewing habits. What other shows would I be embarrassed to admit I actually watch for more than five minutes? Well, wonder no longer:

British House of Commons Prime Minister's Questions - Every Sunday night, C-Span re-airs its coverage of British Prime Minister Tony Blair's weekly Q&A session with the House of Commons and it usually sucks me right in. I'm not sure what it is about this particular program that is simply fascinating. Perhaps, it is a stark contrast to how healthy debate is carried on in the US Congress and Senate. While a session of Congress ranks right up there with watching paint dry, the British House of Commons is lively, loud and dare I say exciting. If they agree with Tony Blair's responses, they cheer and if they don't they "nay" or laugh or shout. Politics should be about loudly and lively debate.

The Joy of Painting - Happy, little trees; happy, big mountains; happy, flowing streams. There is no better way to spend a weekday afternoon than with a cup of coffee and Bob Ross. It is like meditation. I don't know whether it is his voice or the way he makes blobs of white paint look like happy little clouds, but The Joy of Painting is like comfort food for my soul. And god bless!

Sesame Street - Sure, I'm five years short of my 30th Birthday, but nothing makes me feel like a five year old faster than randomly turning on PBS on weekday mornings and greeted by Grover or Big Bird teaching me about the letter "W" ... or teaching me some Spanish ... or perhaps how to count (one, one apple. Ha! Ha! Ha!). And I will sit transfixed like some toddler, but truthfully, I'm just hoping to recapture the glory days of my youth, you know before I could spell my name.

posted by runnerbird | 4:47 PM

Monday, November 10, 2003
A Case of the Mondays
I feel as if death has washed over me. I forgot how much having the flu makes you appreciate the finer things in life like breathing through both nostrils, dry hands, your voice, your nasal passages, being able to swallow cold liquids without screaming for mercy, your hearing and most of all, not awaking at three-thirty in the morning with cold chills and sweat running down your back. I feel the need to crawl into bed and sleep for the next week. Unfortunately, I am at working trying to pull off some level functionality by downing large quantities of DayQuil. Mostly, I hate this particular case of the flu because I am forced to reschedule a dinner date with my friends, Lara and her little one, Dagny and Amy. Damn you, viral infection!

I watched Tarzan on Sunday night with a heavy heart because I know the end is near. Of course, this episode was the best yet... best being in the context of total crap, but I digress. I can safely say I turn off my brain when watching this show. I just notice the pretty outfits, the pretty colors, the pretty people and the grunting. What will I do once Tarzan is off the air? Will have actually turn on my brain during the nine o'clock hour to watch Criminal Intent or Alias? The prospect saddens me. The fact that it saddens me, frightens me.

In a sure sign I have completely lost my mind, I rented Head of State again this weekend for the sole propose of judging Stephanie March's comedic ability. How sad is that? Almost as sad as renting Dracula II: Ascension after find out Diane Neal has the lead role in it... but I didn't! So at least I know part of my brain is still intact and not under the influence of cold medicine. I did however rent some episode of Queer As Folk because I simply needed a Gale Harold fix after seeing him on the cover of Vanity Fair.

posted by runnerbird | 4:16 PM

Saturday, November 08, 2003
Rhapsody of Beef
Cooking is a lot harder than it looks. I started a small grease fire yesterday cooking a nice cut of beef. I don't think you've lived until you get that small rush of panic as you see flames rise from your stove. Your mind flashes to flamey images from Towering Inferno and you realize, damn there is no water tower that will save me from this disaster. No Steve McQueen. No Paul Neuman. Luckily, the small fire was contained. No damage, except to my ego and my steak. It did have a nice flame-broiled, smoky flavor. Mmmm...

Since I'm confined to my bedroom this weekend with a rather nasty case of the flu, I watched the film Down With Love and absolutely adored it. As a huge fan of Doris Day/Rock Hudson films, this sunny homage to those lively movies of the early sixties was just about perfect. It captured the spirit of those films while injecting the material with a modern dose of originality. The split screen sequences were clever. I like clever. The art direction and costume designer were enough to keep my eyes entertained. Ewan McGregor and Renee Zellweger were just icing on the cake.

Yesterday, I learned that my guilty pleasure of the fall season, the WB's Tarzan just got cancelled. This show was so bad, it was not good, it was great. First, there was the eye candy. Everyone in the cast is just pretty, especially Travis Fimmel who will probably not have much a career after this, but whom I will fondly remember as a man too pretty for words. Second, the chemistry between Tarzan and Jane was enough to make me forget the lamest plots ever conceived by man. I'm actually a little sad that we'll probably never see Jane and Tarzan kiss. Third, this show marked the return of two of my favorite actors, Lucy Lawless and Mitch Pileggi, to series television. I was enjoying their brother-sister showdowns despite the craptastic dialogue. I barely knew you, Tarzan, but I'll miss you.

And congratulations to my friend, Gregs for winning her bid for a seat on her local city council. I can't think of a better person to assume public office. The city of Mulketio is damn lucky to have her. And now our first phase for complete world domination is now complete... bwahhhhh! Soon, the world will be ours! Sorry, was that aloud?

posted by runnerbird | 8:28 PM

Thursday, November 06, 2003
Howdy, Stranger
It has come to my attention that people I've never met are reading this site. Surely, you have better things to do than read how obssessed I am with Law and Order? I'm sure it's a beautiful day where you live. Go out and play. Go for a walk. Get some fresh air. That has to be more interesting than reading about my current state of mind. At any rate, I encourage those I've never had the pleasure to met in person (is it a pleasure, probably not) to email me. It is only fair I should know something about you since you know everything about me.

In other news, now that the weather has gone from warm and gorgeous to sad and shitty, I now have the beginnings of a cold. Well, more like the flu. Yes, I've got chills and they're multiplying. Can curl up in a ball and die now?

After watching the Stephanie March episode of Boy Meets Grill, I have a slight girl-crush. She is snarky, a little mean and likes to eat. As my friends used to say, "I want to crawl inside her and become her." After the show was over, however, I was left with a more pressing question, how the hell did a guy like Bobby Flay land a girl like Stephanie March? Is a man that can cook that sexy? Is it enough to over look his "staggering dicketry" (yes, that's a bad thing)? On the one hand, the fact that Bobby can get Stephanie does give me hope for my own romantic future. I mean, I am way nicer than Bobby Flay right? If he can have a healthy relationship with someone sane and normal, so can I! On the other hand, if Bobby Flay can get Stephanie, my faith in relationships, humanity and the general laws of the universe have been gravely shaken.

posted by runnerbird | 1:33 PM

Monday, November 03, 2003
It's A Beautiful Day
Now that I have all cozy sweaters out of their storage bin and have packed away those shirt sleeve t-shirts, a mini spring weather wave happens upon us. Part of me loves stepping outside in breathing in the warm, misty air, but the other part of me knows I'll probably have a cold later in the week when it dips down from warm and gorgeous to cold and fucking miserable. I shouldn't complain. I'll take my sunshine where I can get it.

While P. Diddy isn't the first celebrity to run the New York City Marathon, he certainly is the first to have a slogan (Diddy Runs the City, y'all) and a website. His powers of persuasion helped raise two million dollars for a variety of NYC Children's charities. In in the immortal words of Chris Rock, "ain't nothing wrong with that." I like celebrities who use their powers of famewhoring for good instead of evil. I also respect Diddy for training only two months and still managing to cross the finish line in respectable time, with a leg cramp no less. As a avid "runner" (more like jogging/hardly breathing/aching/I wish I was dead/run a mile in thirty minutes), the concept that any human can run 26 plus miles in anything under twelve hours is amazing. My goal in life is to run this marathon. Actually, more like run three miles of this marathon, stop, puke and look for the nearest subway stop to wisk me home. It is important to have goals.

In totally pointless TV news, NBC's much touted "adult" sitcom Coupling was mercifully given a quick, painless death instead of lumbering in its Thursday night timeslot for half a season. This show was painfully unfunny and after seeing the UK version, I understood why. American sitcoms cannot do subtle life comedy well. It is either sly, dry-ish wit or Jack Tripper-esque farce with really no fertile middle ground. While farce can be smart and tremedously funny (see Scrubs, no really SAVE SCRUBS and watch it, please) and most of the funny sly, dry wit comedy has moved to cable (Curb Your Enthusiasm and Sex and the City, anyone?), network sitcoms have forgotten that life isn't always about the easiest laugh and yep, you can combine sweet, touching moments with absolutely ridiculous situations. Isn't real life like this?

posted by runnerbird | 11:07 AM