Part One | Part Two | Part Three
“So what are you writing today, “ said the old man, “the latest Tolkein wanna-be? A political thriller set during the Polk administration? Some bullshit coming of age story about a manchild and the manic pixie dream girl who completes him? God, it isn’t some story about space people and their relationship to Bob Dylan, is it?”
“No, nothing nearly that ambitious. Just blogging about movies, the outdoors, things I do.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Well, it just feels inessential, rather boring. So I went to a festival, ate some greasy sweet food, played a couple games, and listened to some music. So what, who cares what I have to say? So either I try to attach a higher purpose to the event, or go the other way and try to diminish it, hiding it in a sea of non sequiturs and The Simpsons references. The second approach, while sometimes fun, more often results in the disaster my current post is.”
“I see. Y’know what I fucking think? If something is worth writing about, give it the respect it deserves. Otherwise, leave it alone, or twat abo--”
“Tweet, it’s called tweeting”
“What the fuck ever, like I care. The point is if you are writing about real events, you should give them the respect they deserve. Sit for a few hours, think over possible angles, actually put some effort into it, for christ sake. Who knows, maybe you’ll find a new way to look at the event, something that might be interesting.”
“Wait, you think I should work at it? Why would I want to write if I had to put effort into it?”
“Ha-ha, fuckwit.”
“No, I get it, I do tend to just slap the crap up without taking time to think it through. Thanks for the help”
“My pleasure, my good man, “ said a familiar voice. It took him a second, but he realized it was his own voice that had replied.
“What the hell is going on?”
“I’m afraid you decided to disappear into your own ass, worrying about that dreadful blog post. To get yourself some perspective, you needed to create a false reality.”
“But why the crusty foul-mouthed old man?”
“Because that old fart represented authenticity to you. Had he shown up looking like Isaac Newton or Kate Winslet, you wouldn’t have bought your vision.”
“Why am I speaking to myself in the second person?”
“Because speaking in the first person sounds fucking insane. OK, now that the wisdom has been imparted, you feel free to remove your head from your ass.”
“SNRRAAKKmmmmmmm, “ said Bertram as he lifted his head from his desk. He looked around, saw he was back in his house, and that he must have dreamed the entire thing. He stood up and stretched. On the computer screen was his awful draft post. With a couple clicks he erased it. Picking up a pen and pad of paper, he went outside to start over, his head assuredly no longer up his ass.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
The Blogger, Part Three
Part One | Part Two
Bertram sheepishly walked across the road, not turning around to acknowledge the driver until he reached the other side.
“Sorry, man, “ said Bertram. It was at this point he really took a look at the vehicle that had also made he day really bad. It was an old Dodge pickup, with a noisy engine, a pock-marked windshield, and more rust than paint on its body.
The driver of the truck wasn’t in much better shape. He was an old man with a long white beard and unkempt, greasy hair. He was wearing a dirty tank top, and was missing some teeth. He looked like many of the down-on-their-luck old men in the area, except for eyes betrayed a sense of fiery intelligence.
“Well, just stay out of god damn fuckin’ road next time, jackass.”
Bertram looked like he was going to add something, but instead just turned and headed down the sidewalk next to the side street. As far as he was concerned, this was all he would be seeing of that disheveled, foul-mouthed old man. And his shitty truck.
Unfortunately, fate and that old man disagreed with Bertram. Before he had made it a block up the side street, the old fart was back.
“What the hell was so god damn important that it would take priority over watching where you were fuckin’ going? Having troubles with a girl? Money issues?”
“None of your damn business, sir, but no, neither of those.”
“Sheeeit, you weren’t having writing troubles, were you. Please don’t fuckin’ say that.”
“Well, yeah, somewhat.”
“Damnit, its always with the fuckin god-damn writing troubles. You must be the fourth ‘writer’ I’ve almost killed this week. Sheeeit, fucking writing problems.”
Bertram could tell this guy had experience with writing, other than an abnormally high level of near accidents with them. Judging by how the old man had said the word “writer” he didn’t sound like a fan of them and their craft.
“Look, buddy, I know a bit about the writing game. I’ve got some time and gas to kill, hop in and we can work out your problem.”
Bertram could smell the interior of the cab, and it wasn’t pleasant. It smelled like a mixture of cheap beer, stale cigarettes, and old man BO. He wasn’t quite sure if this guy was even sober, let alone if he was sane. A reasonable person would be expected to decline the offer of help.
On most occasions Bertram was a sensible man. He rarely spoke up, rarely took the road less traveled. He paid his bills and his taxes, and didn’t complain if his food was poorly cooked. However, every once in a while, Bertram would turn off that switch in his brain that prevented taking stupid risks, and would just go with it. It’s how he had ended up self employed, how he had ended up in this small town on the eastern edge of Illinois. Sometimes you just gotta go with it.
“Why the hell not?”
To be continued...
Bertram sheepishly walked across the road, not turning around to acknowledge the driver until he reached the other side.
“Sorry, man, “ said Bertram. It was at this point he really took a look at the vehicle that had also made he day really bad. It was an old Dodge pickup, with a noisy engine, a pock-marked windshield, and more rust than paint on its body.
The driver of the truck wasn’t in much better shape. He was an old man with a long white beard and unkempt, greasy hair. He was wearing a dirty tank top, and was missing some teeth. He looked like many of the down-on-their-luck old men in the area, except for eyes betrayed a sense of fiery intelligence.
“Well, just stay out of god damn fuckin’ road next time, jackass.”
Bertram looked like he was going to add something, but instead just turned and headed down the sidewalk next to the side street. As far as he was concerned, this was all he would be seeing of that disheveled, foul-mouthed old man. And his shitty truck.
Unfortunately, fate and that old man disagreed with Bertram. Before he had made it a block up the side street, the old fart was back.
“What the hell was so god damn important that it would take priority over watching where you were fuckin’ going? Having troubles with a girl? Money issues?”
“None of your damn business, sir, but no, neither of those.”
“Sheeeit, you weren’t having writing troubles, were you. Please don’t fuckin’ say that.”
“Well, yeah, somewhat.”
“Damnit, its always with the fuckin god-damn writing troubles. You must be the fourth ‘writer’ I’ve almost killed this week. Sheeeit, fucking writing problems.”
Bertram could tell this guy had experience with writing, other than an abnormally high level of near accidents with them. Judging by how the old man had said the word “writer” he didn’t sound like a fan of them and their craft.
“Look, buddy, I know a bit about the writing game. I’ve got some time and gas to kill, hop in and we can work out your problem.”
Bertram could smell the interior of the cab, and it wasn’t pleasant. It smelled like a mixture of cheap beer, stale cigarettes, and old man BO. He wasn’t quite sure if this guy was even sober, let alone if he was sane. A reasonable person would be expected to decline the offer of help.
On most occasions Bertram was a sensible man. He rarely spoke up, rarely took the road less traveled. He paid his bills and his taxes, and didn’t complain if his food was poorly cooked. However, every once in a while, Bertram would turn off that switch in his brain that prevented taking stupid risks, and would just go with it. It’s how he had ended up self employed, how he had ended up in this small town on the eastern edge of Illinois. Sometimes you just gotta go with it.
“Why the hell not?”
To be continued...
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The Blogger, Part Two
To read part one, click here.
Stuck In Lodi Again...
When Bertram was growing up, he always thought that song referred to Lodi, Indiana, as in the front-man of the “Twin Cities” of Lodi-Silverwood. As he grew up, he thought he most likely referred to Lodi, California. Having driven through the Indiana Lodi several times, and the California one once, he was certain neither place was somewhere he’d want to be.
What Lodi the song referred to was irrelevant, as far as he was concerned. To him, the tone of the song mattered more. It represented being stuck in place as time moved forward, unable to progress, unable to figure things out. Above all it meant Bertram wasn’t sure what to do, how to rectify his current situation.
Six months ago he had quit his software development job at Illinois Business Solutions so he could focus on his own projects. Although he had kept his bills paid by freelancing and consulting work, his passion project had yet to take off. As good of a programmer as he was, he always would rather be writing instead. He wasn’t sure if he actually enjoyed it, or if the lifestyle of “research trips” and the possibility of sleeping late were the bigger draws.
He had named his blog WhimmiWazzle, and had hoped it would be a mixture of fiction, eccentric posts about happenings in the area, and occasionally earnest essays about subjects ranging from Abe Lincoln to bringing high-speed rail to Central Illinois. So far he had written a few posts about his favorite Coen Brothers and Pixar films, and how much he dislked the latest explosionarama by Michael Bay. He had made a few visits to places like Forest Glen, the Carnegie Library in Ridge Farm, and the Vermilion County Museum. The first two visits had ended up as marginally coherent posts read by his sister, a few of his friends, and his parents. The last had never resulted in anything worth posting. He got as far as trying to write the post as a homage to the Gettysburg Address, but never was satisfied with it.
So day after day, he rarely sat down to actually write. He’d read profusely, from novels and short stories to memoirs and large books about the English Civil War or the revolutions of 1848. If he wasn’t reading, he was watching his library of movies and TV shows. He rationalized this by saying it was “research”, but mostly he just enjoyed it. And if it was research, he didn’t apply it very well, as that latest monstrosity showed.
“How do I fix that piece of shit,” Bertram muttered under his breath. “It’s clearly not salvageable in its current form, but maybe there are a few ideas that can still wor--”
(HONKHONKHONKHONKSCREEEECCCHHHH!KA-THUNK!)
The sound of the car stopping broke Bertram’s trance. Now aware of his surroundings again, he realized that he was the reason the car had stopped, just a couple inches away.
“WHAT THE FUCK, MAN! WATCH WHERE YOU ARE GOING!”
To be continued...
Stuck In Lodi Again...
When Bertram was growing up, he always thought that song referred to Lodi, Indiana, as in the front-man of the “Twin Cities” of Lodi-Silverwood. As he grew up, he thought he most likely referred to Lodi, California. Having driven through the Indiana Lodi several times, and the California one once, he was certain neither place was somewhere he’d want to be.
What Lodi the song referred to was irrelevant, as far as he was concerned. To him, the tone of the song mattered more. It represented being stuck in place as time moved forward, unable to progress, unable to figure things out. Above all it meant Bertram wasn’t sure what to do, how to rectify his current situation.
Six months ago he had quit his software development job at Illinois Business Solutions so he could focus on his own projects. Although he had kept his bills paid by freelancing and consulting work, his passion project had yet to take off. As good of a programmer as he was, he always would rather be writing instead. He wasn’t sure if he actually enjoyed it, or if the lifestyle of “research trips” and the possibility of sleeping late were the bigger draws.
He had named his blog WhimmiWazzle, and had hoped it would be a mixture of fiction, eccentric posts about happenings in the area, and occasionally earnest essays about subjects ranging from Abe Lincoln to bringing high-speed rail to Central Illinois. So far he had written a few posts about his favorite Coen Brothers and Pixar films, and how much he dislked the latest explosionarama by Michael Bay. He had made a few visits to places like Forest Glen, the Carnegie Library in Ridge Farm, and the Vermilion County Museum. The first two visits had ended up as marginally coherent posts read by his sister, a few of his friends, and his parents. The last had never resulted in anything worth posting. He got as far as trying to write the post as a homage to the Gettysburg Address, but never was satisfied with it.
So day after day, he rarely sat down to actually write. He’d read profusely, from novels and short stories to memoirs and large books about the English Civil War or the revolutions of 1848. If he wasn’t reading, he was watching his library of movies and TV shows. He rationalized this by saying it was “research”, but mostly he just enjoyed it. And if it was research, he didn’t apply it very well, as that latest monstrosity showed.
“How do I fix that piece of shit,” Bertram muttered under his breath. “It’s clearly not salvageable in its current form, but maybe there are a few ideas that can still wor--”
(HONKHONKHONKHONKSCREEEECCCHHHH!KA-THUNK!)
The sound of the car stopping broke Bertram’s trance. Now aware of his surroundings again, he realized that he was the reason the car had stopped, just a couple inches away.
“WHAT THE FUCK, MAN! WATCH WHERE YOU ARE GOING!”
To be continued...
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Chocolate Frosted Sugar Serials
Note: In an effort to pretend like I can actually write, I've decided to begin a feature on this blog titled "500 Word Serials". I intend it as a homage to the old days when stories were published in periodicals and newspapers, even if they ended up later in a longer format. I have chosen 500 words because it suits the medium, and because my original ideas of 100 and 200 words seemed too short. Before I begin with the first story, I want to offer a content advisory, as this feature is rated "R" for naughty language, adult situations, aspirations to pretentiousness, and severe mountain goat instigated violence. If you work at a regressive place, are too fragile for severe winning, or just like reading bowdlerized material, please contact me and I will replace the offending language with appropriate euphemisms. And then I will laugh at you behind your back. Sorry, it's the code I live by.
Please note: all typos, grammatical errors, and incoherent plot details are purely unintentional. Unless they improve the story, than it was my intention all along. Now sit back and enjoy my first story, titled The Blogger. I know, completely unexpected, right?
“What the fuck, momatoes?”
“It’s from The Simpsons Allie, but perhaps you’re too young to remember that reference.”
Bertram was talking to his best friend of many years over the phone. He had written a draft of a blog entry, and had sent it to her to peruse before he posted it. Most of the time, she usually passed it back with a few scant recommendations. Unfortunately, this was a bad one.
“I’m three months younger than you, moran. We watched that episode together, Homer became a rogue food critic. Where the reference is from isn’t the problem, it’s the relevance.”
“Of course it’s relevant. The booths at the festival were red. Like momatoes.”
“IT WAS THE FUCKING STRAWBERRY FESTIVAL! And even if it wasn’t, your post would still be a rambling, incoherent mess. Its nothing but disconnected rants about stale shortbread, the origins of World War I, and how disappointing Jar Jar Binks was.”
“You can’t deny he was a poor substitute for Chew--”
“THE AWFUL MONSTER JAR JAR BINKS IS NOT THE ISSUE HERE! God, Bert, I’ve seen better writing than this from you. This wouldn’t be entertaining to anyone, other than those who love laughing at the insane.”
Bertram almost offered a response, but thought better of it. He looked at the screen of his laptop, the draft post still up on the screen. Just hours ago, he thought it had been an irreverent piece of “gonzo journalism” about the Salinetown Strawberry Festival. Now, he wasn’t sure if it qualified as English.
“Also, what was the deal with randomly inserting ‘Screw Fredritch’ throughout the post? I’m guessing it was another reference to that episode of The Simpsons. Of course, changing the name from Flanders to Fredritch makes you look like you have a vendetta against some random person.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll make some changes. Jeez, you don’t have to rub it in. It’s just a fucking blog that no one reads.”
“Sorry, Bert, but you’re a better writer than that. Criticising your work emphatically was the best way to get through to you. I’m sure your next draft will be better. I know being a child of the 80’s means you can’t take a shit without making a pop-culture reference, but there are better ways. More Community, less late period Family Guy. Just a bit mo--”
Allie’s voice grew softer and more muffled as she talked to someone else. The muffles grew louder and more contentious, and Bertram knew she’d be hanging up soon.
“Sorry, Bert, but I’ve gotta go. Some bullshit went down with the latest release. I don’t know, code went out that shouldn’t have. God, I hate this place sometimes. Fix it up a bit, and let me see it again. This time, a bit more fun, and a bit less insane.”
“Got it, less with the insanity. Have fun with your clusterfuck there.”
Bert hung up the phone and closed his laptop. The post would be fixed, but right now was walkabout time.
Please note: all typos, grammatical errors, and incoherent plot details are purely unintentional. Unless they improve the story, than it was my intention all along. Now sit back and enjoy my first story, titled The Blogger. I know, completely unexpected, right?
“What the fuck, momatoes?”
“It’s from The Simpsons Allie, but perhaps you’re too young to remember that reference.”
Bertram was talking to his best friend of many years over the phone. He had written a draft of a blog entry, and had sent it to her to peruse before he posted it. Most of the time, she usually passed it back with a few scant recommendations. Unfortunately, this was a bad one.
“I’m three months younger than you, moran. We watched that episode together, Homer became a rogue food critic. Where the reference is from isn’t the problem, it’s the relevance.”
“Of course it’s relevant. The booths at the festival were red. Like momatoes.”
“IT WAS THE FUCKING STRAWBERRY FESTIVAL! And even if it wasn’t, your post would still be a rambling, incoherent mess. Its nothing but disconnected rants about stale shortbread, the origins of World War I, and how disappointing Jar Jar Binks was.”
“You can’t deny he was a poor substitute for Chew--”
“THE AWFUL MONSTER JAR JAR BINKS IS NOT THE ISSUE HERE! God, Bert, I’ve seen better writing than this from you. This wouldn’t be entertaining to anyone, other than those who love laughing at the insane.”
Bertram almost offered a response, but thought better of it. He looked at the screen of his laptop, the draft post still up on the screen. Just hours ago, he thought it had been an irreverent piece of “gonzo journalism” about the Salinetown Strawberry Festival. Now, he wasn’t sure if it qualified as English.
“Also, what was the deal with randomly inserting ‘Screw Fredritch’ throughout the post? I’m guessing it was another reference to that episode of The Simpsons. Of course, changing the name from Flanders to Fredritch makes you look like you have a vendetta against some random person.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll make some changes. Jeez, you don’t have to rub it in. It’s just a fucking blog that no one reads.”
“Sorry, Bert, but you’re a better writer than that. Criticising your work emphatically was the best way to get through to you. I’m sure your next draft will be better. I know being a child of the 80’s means you can’t take a shit without making a pop-culture reference, but there are better ways. More Community, less late period Family Guy. Just a bit mo--”
Allie’s voice grew softer and more muffled as she talked to someone else. The muffles grew louder and more contentious, and Bertram knew she’d be hanging up soon.
“Sorry, Bert, but I’ve gotta go. Some bullshit went down with the latest release. I don’t know, code went out that shouldn’t have. God, I hate this place sometimes. Fix it up a bit, and let me see it again. This time, a bit more fun, and a bit less insane.”
“Got it, less with the insanity. Have fun with your clusterfuck there.”
Bert hung up the phone and closed his laptop. The post would be fixed, but right now was walkabout time.
Monday, January 3, 2011
My Year in Movies, 2010
In a normal year, this list (assuming I actually would put it together) would be ten movies long. However, 2010 was not a great year for movies. Sure, the six films at the top of this list were entertaining, thought provoking, and often times completely mesmerizing. And several more (such as The Kings Speech and Easy A sound like they would be good, but I haven't seen them. As it stands, I can only write the list based on movies I have seen, and not those I wish to see. Therefore, because these six films stand out above the rest I saw, they deserve a spot of honor. In no particular order, here are my six favorite films of 2010:
Toy Story 3
To be sure, this one made me nervous that Pixar would spew forth a mediocre cash grab with the third installment of this most venerable franchise. With tears in my eyes at its touching end, I realized how foolish I was. This movie had the most harrowing scene of any film I saw this year. Good job Pixar. Now, really surprise me and make Cars 2 better than bad.
The Social Network
The accuracy of this film is certainly debatable, as is the extent it makes Mark Zuckerberg look awful (or streets ahead awesome). However, it cannot be denied that this film wasn't great. It's exploration of innovation, friendship, fast success, and how all three can devolve into a bitter clusterfuck of betrayal and hard feelings was truly engaging. Great performances by Justin Timberlake, Andrew Garfield, and Jesse Eisenberg, the thinking man's Michael Cera. Plus, it's always fun to see PHP on the screen.
Scott Pilgrim vs. The World
Not to be outdone, the famous original Michael Cera stars in his own film on this list. I feel very confident in saying that this filmed, poorly received at the box office, will be looked at in a much gentler light as time goes on. Perhaps one day this film will be studied as a Generation Y Bonnie and Clyde. Perhaps a younger generation, more at ease with its style, will revere it like previous generations revere other classics. Perhaps a future me will stumble across this pretentious piece of fluff and smack his forehead, before wistfully remembering the days when people actually sat in dark rooms together and watched movies, instead of downloading it straight to Netflix on our iCortex. The fact that this film had Aubrey Plaza and Anna Kendrick pretty much guaranteed a positive reaction from me, even if it turned out to be Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2.
Inception
True Grit
Were I to pick a favorite screenwriter, I would probably have to pick Charlie Kaufman. Were I to pick a favorite director, it likely would be a tie between Andrew Stanton, Brad Bird, and Pete Doctor. However, were I to pick my favorite director/writer team, that honor would clearly go to the Coen Brothers. Fargo, Raising Arizona, The Big Lebowski, and most of their other films rank highly in my informal list of favorites, and each new film of theirs is on my "To See List". I've never seen the John Wayne film, nor read the book both movies are based on. People aren't wrong when they say this is a straight up western, without any of the usual Coen Brothers oddness. People also aren't wrong when they say this is a very enjoyable film. I can't say enough about the performance of the young female lead, and Jeff Bridges, is, well Jeff Bridges. The movie simultaneously made me want to visit late 19th century Indian Territory, and avoid the outdoors, especially caves where snakes dare to dwell.
Black Swan
No movie grabbed my attention so strongly as Darren Aronofsky's film about Natalie Portman's fragile ballerina. In many ways, this seemed like a companion to his earlier film The Wrestler. However, where Mickey Rourke's character was more about recapturing that lost feeling of success at the end of a career, Portman's journey was more about achieving perfection, about creating something worth remembering, even if it costs you everything in the process. There is no other actress who could have pulled off the role of Nina Sayers. Portman owns that role, and she deserves every accolade she may get.
One Line Awards
Biggest Surprise: How to Train Your Dragon
Favorite Sequel (Non Toy Story 3 Division): Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows, Part One
Favorite Comedy Starring Jonah Hill: Get Him to the Greek
Favorite Movie including John Slattery: Iron Man 2
Most Disappointing Film (tie): Jonah Hex, Alice in Wonderland, and The Tourist
Least Offensive Piece of Middling Sequel: Shrek Forever After
Movie most Likely to have made my Favorite List, if I had Remembered it Existed: Shutter Island
Favorite Movie with Amy Adams in track shorts: The Fighter
Favorite Movie about Waterborne Time Traveling: Hot Tub Time Machine
Favorite Movie about Plans Coming Together: A-Team
Least Favorite Movie: Cop Out
Favorite Fake Alternative Ending to a Film that is 100 times more valuable than the Movie that Inspired It: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6w0r-ScEG4
Film I Wanted to See, But Hasn't Played in Chattanooga (tie): The Kings Speech, Blue Valentine
Film I Wanted to See, But Dicked Around and Didn't See It: Easy A
Most Anticipated Film of 2011: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2
Toy Story 3
To be sure, this one made me nervous that Pixar would spew forth a mediocre cash grab with the third installment of this most venerable franchise. With tears in my eyes at its touching end, I realized how foolish I was. This movie had the most harrowing scene of any film I saw this year. Good job Pixar. Now, really surprise me and make Cars 2 better than bad.
The Social Network
The accuracy of this film is certainly debatable, as is the extent it makes Mark Zuckerberg look awful (or streets ahead awesome). However, it cannot be denied that this film wasn't great. It's exploration of innovation, friendship, fast success, and how all three can devolve into a bitter clusterfuck of betrayal and hard feelings was truly engaging. Great performances by Justin Timberlake, Andrew Garfield, and Jesse Eisenberg, the thinking man's Michael Cera. Plus, it's always fun to see PHP on the screen.
Scott Pilgrim vs. The World
Not to be outdone, the famous original Michael Cera stars in his own film on this list. I feel very confident in saying that this filmed, poorly received at the box office, will be looked at in a much gentler light as time goes on. Perhaps one day this film will be studied as a Generation Y Bonnie and Clyde. Perhaps a younger generation, more at ease with its style, will revere it like previous generations revere other classics. Perhaps a future me will stumble across this pretentious piece of fluff and smack his forehead, before wistfully remembering the days when people actually sat in dark rooms together and watched movies, instead of downloading it straight to Netflix on our iCortex. The fact that this film had Aubrey Plaza and Anna Kendrick pretty much guaranteed a positive reaction from me, even if it turned out to be Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2.
Inception
True Grit
Were I to pick a favorite screenwriter, I would probably have to pick Charlie Kaufman. Were I to pick a favorite director, it likely would be a tie between Andrew Stanton, Brad Bird, and Pete Doctor. However, were I to pick my favorite director/writer team, that honor would clearly go to the Coen Brothers. Fargo, Raising Arizona, The Big Lebowski, and most of their other films rank highly in my informal list of favorites, and each new film of theirs is on my "To See List". I've never seen the John Wayne film, nor read the book both movies are based on. People aren't wrong when they say this is a straight up western, without any of the usual Coen Brothers oddness. People also aren't wrong when they say this is a very enjoyable film. I can't say enough about the performance of the young female lead, and Jeff Bridges, is, well Jeff Bridges. The movie simultaneously made me want to visit late 19th century Indian Territory, and avoid the outdoors, especially caves where snakes dare to dwell.
Black Swan
No movie grabbed my attention so strongly as Darren Aronofsky's film about Natalie Portman's fragile ballerina. In many ways, this seemed like a companion to his earlier film The Wrestler. However, where Mickey Rourke's character was more about recapturing that lost feeling of success at the end of a career, Portman's journey was more about achieving perfection, about creating something worth remembering, even if it costs you everything in the process. There is no other actress who could have pulled off the role of Nina Sayers. Portman owns that role, and she deserves every accolade she may get.
One Line Awards
Biggest Surprise: How to Train Your Dragon
Favorite Sequel (Non Toy Story 3 Division): Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows, Part One
Favorite Comedy Starring Jonah Hill: Get Him to the Greek
Favorite Movie including John Slattery: Iron Man 2
Most Disappointing Film (tie): Jonah Hex, Alice in Wonderland, and The Tourist
Least Offensive Piece of Middling Sequel: Shrek Forever After
Movie most Likely to have made my Favorite List, if I had Remembered it Existed: Shutter Island
Favorite Movie with Amy Adams in track shorts: The Fighter
Favorite Movie about Waterborne Time Traveling: Hot Tub Time Machine
Favorite Movie about Plans Coming Together: A-Team
Least Favorite Movie: Cop Out
Favorite Fake Alternative Ending to a Film that is 100 times more valuable than the Movie that Inspired It: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6w0r-ScEG4
Film I Wanted to See, But Hasn't Played in Chattanooga (tie): The Kings Speech, Blue Valentine
Film I Wanted to See, But Dicked Around and Didn't See It: Easy A
Most Anticipated Film of 2011: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2
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