Tom walks into work. In the back workroom, away from the public, and more specifically seated at the back table upon which there are often snacks, sits Jean-Luc Godard.
TOM: Godard! I'm a big fan. It's an honour to have you here.
GODARD: I know.
TOM: I love your work.
GODARD: Why?
TOM: I love all that you've done for filmic grammar.
GODARD: That is wrong! I am so tired of people talking about my ingenious experiments in form. Nobody ever talks about my characters! About the emotions! About my love stories.
TOM: Well...
GODARD: Love stories is the essence of cinema.
Should be noted that every statement that's been bold-faced in the above is a bold-faced lie. But I meant it in the dream.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Dissolves: An Essay in Eleven Statements of 140 Characters or Less
For some time, I've been threatening loudly and publicly to write an anti-dissolve-as-transition screed. For one reason or another, I just couldn't seem to marshal together the arguments, evidence, and wit necessary to put these nebulous thoughts into a form that could be easily digested by other human beings. Wanting to get it all out there, however, a few nights ago I presented them in a series of eleven twitter dispatches. They are presented anew here, in the hopes that it might prompt some discussion. Don't be shy.
1. Montage vs. mise-en-scene; combination of elements vs. elements themselves; footage as raw materials vs. thing in its own right.
2. An image has integrity. Put one image next to another (timeline): integrity. Side-by-side (split-screen): integrity. Dissolves: none.
3. Neither image is its own thing, but rather a most monstrous and hazy amalgam, mutant, gestalt.
4. But a dissolve does not stand still in time; it is a transition. It is time. A way to show its passing. A way to bridge gaps.
5. A dissolve refuses to let go of one thing before grabbing another. It is then inherently sentimental.*
6. Ozu had no use for them. He understood that they untether the image from reality. Every dissolve is a lie.
7. As Schrader explained, Ozu's cinema is transcendent because there are no dissolves. Formality is key.
8. Film is image, film is time; Dissolves disrespect & misunderstand both. But film is also people, performances, gestures, spirits, essences.
9. Montage uses people/souls as raw materials to be reshaped and/or discarded. Mise-en-scene respects the actor & his space.
10. If dissolves are "montage plus", then they are implicitly dismissive of actors, framing, timing, writing. People. Art.
11. And so, yes dear ones, my argument against dissolves is an argument for mise-en-scene, formal control, space & time, acting.
Again, comments are welcome.
*-- Before this "piece" was written (twritten?), the venerable C. Mason Wells chastised my blanket condemnation of dissolves by pointing to the films of Sirk. And had he not done that, I would not have realized the inherently sentimental nature of the dissolve-as-transition. So, um, thanks, Chris! And, it should be noted, that Sirk uses dissolves quite well because he understands and capitalizes on this aspect.
1. Montage vs. mise-en-scene; combination of elements vs. elements themselves; footage as raw materials vs. thing in its own right.
2. An image has integrity. Put one image next to another (timeline): integrity. Side-by-side (split-screen): integrity. Dissolves: none.
3. Neither image is its own thing, but rather a most monstrous and hazy amalgam, mutant, gestalt.
4. But a dissolve does not stand still in time; it is a transition. It is time. A way to show its passing. A way to bridge gaps.
5. A dissolve refuses to let go of one thing before grabbing another. It is then inherently sentimental.*
6. Ozu had no use for them. He understood that they untether the image from reality. Every dissolve is a lie.
7. As Schrader explained, Ozu's cinema is transcendent because there are no dissolves. Formality is key.
8. Film is image, film is time; Dissolves disrespect & misunderstand both. But film is also people, performances, gestures, spirits, essences.
9. Montage uses people/souls as raw materials to be reshaped and/or discarded. Mise-en-scene respects the actor & his space.
10. If dissolves are "montage plus", then they are implicitly dismissive of actors, framing, timing, writing. People. Art.
11. And so, yes dear ones, my argument against dissolves is an argument for mise-en-scene, formal control, space & time, acting.
Again, comments are welcome.
*-- Before this "piece" was written (twritten?), the venerable C. Mason Wells chastised my blanket condemnation of dissolves by pointing to the films of Sirk. And had he not done that, I would not have realized the inherently sentimental nature of the dissolve-as-transition. So, um, thanks, Chris! And, it should be noted, that Sirk uses dissolves quite well because he understands and capitalizes on this aspect.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Huck Melnick's HARDLY BEAR TO LOOK AT YOU
Art, like romantic attraction, is subjective. In both cases, there are certain things a person digs and certain things they don't, and what might be the bee's knees for one person might be the bee's rheumatoid arthritis for another. And having seen Huck Melnick's Hardly Bear to Look at You three times now, I can sum up my reaction in three statements: one, there's a lot of stuff I dig about it; two, there's a lot of stuff I don't dig about it; and, three, I know full well that the stuff I don't dig is stuff that a lot of other people do dig.
Statements two and three are in reference to one of the central themes and structural devices of Melnick's film, namely the transformation of experience into art, of longing and pain into writing, of life into cinema. It's a fairly thorough examination, at that, and Nick Rombes went as far as to say that it is "a love story, but also a story of the making of a love story... a film to love, even as it shows you its source code". And if you dig art about the artistic process and cinema about cinema, created by a director who is obviously quite cine-literate and not afraid to acknowledge great filmmakers by name, then there is a lot to fall in love with here.
The thing is, that whole thing just isn't my bag, at all. My tolerance for meta-film and films-about-making-films and the creative process is extremely, extremely low. It's one of the things that I generally can't stand and that almost always turns me off. (Exceptions: The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, The Red Shoes, La Belle Noiseuse, Boogie Nights, Celine and Julie Go Boating, though that last one is about watching and engaging with art, not making it.) For the same reason, I also have a low tolerance for Godard (ssh, don't tell Filmbrain).
And yet, I have watched the film three times. What is it, then, that has kept me coming back? Well, as I said at the top, there's a lot of stuff I dig about it.
First and foremost among these is the acting and the writing. The two lead roles are fully-realized: precisely defined yet dynamic enough that the characters can occupy different poles of behaviour without the end result being schizoid or otherwise straining belief.
Daniel (Jeremy Herman, who also wrote the script) is at times cynical, almost mercenary and cruel in his pursuit of Stella (Anna Neil), while at other times appears to be in full-blown puppy-love mode and many times is able by way of actorly alchemy to occupy both spheres at once.
In doing so, rather than reducing the role to one thing or the other, Herman and Melnick have created a performance that is more realistic than either extreme, one that speaks to a certain facet of the human, and especially male, experience. That is, they find the thing within people and men that allows us to be both monstrous reptiles and lost lovesick children and that's the thing that they put on the screen.
A similar balancing act is at the heart of Anna Neil's performance as Stella, but because Daniel serves as our viewpoint character, and because his lack of understanding for Stella is a crucial part of the film's design, she is deliberately a bit mysterious and hard to read. This doesn't make her performance any less stunning or any less the equal of Jeremy Herman's.
And I love the way, in certain key scenes (for example, the business about the temperature of wine) Daniel can barely hide his exasperation and, yes, his intellectual contempt for Stella. And the character reminds me a bit of certain men who like to play Pygmalion, romancing women that don't pose a threat to them, women they can mold and teach and own, body and soul. This fits in also with Daniel's odd possessiveness (witness how he bristles when another man kisses her, or invites her to a porno festival, despite the fact that they aren't in a relationship themselves). Smart writing, that. Smart acting.
And smart direction, because as any director with even the slightest trace of an ego can tell you, great performances don't just spring out of an actor fully-formed but as the result of collaboration and taste. A director has to know when to say "more", when to say "less", what to leave in and what to take out. And if you can judge a director's taste by the performances his actors give, then I can say hands down that Melnick's is impeccable.
That taste also expresses itself in some of the film's ballsier stylistic moments. The first few minutes of the film, in fact, are comprised of a silent, shaky-cam look at the sleeping Stella. The camera work is invasive, even violating. You feel every second as it zeroes in on her neck, and the feeling is a bit queasy. It's almost like a sort of challenge, a mocking invocation of the film's title: can you bear to look at her?, how much longer?
A friend said of our film Son of a Seahorse that the first twenty-two minutes felt like a "fuck you" to the audience, but what Melnick does is far more audacious (and perhaps even a bit incendiary) than anything we were doing. I wish I had the cajones to start a film like this.
And then, the sound cuts in briefly only to announce that the footage we just saw was being shot for a film. And, well, of course it was, as we're watching a film and there it is, but it's also footage from the film-within-the-film, and which is the real film, anyway? With even this first scene Melnick raises questions about the nature of film and the morality of capturing reality and invading intimacy (sleeping) for art. And he continues to ask these questions throughout the film, the blurring between "reality" and "art" being made more complicated by the fact that the "art" employs the "real" "people" in the same roles, re-enacting the same scenes, as they do in the "real" portions of the film. (Again, it's not a question that I personally find all that captivating, but your mileage may vary and if this is your kind of thing, seek it out.)
A visual that sticks with me even longer is a one of Daniel removing his contact lenses. Melnick shoots it really, really close, so that we can see every blood vessel in the eyeball, so that this monstrous finger is reaching in and digging around the eye sockets. It's a grotesque image, and Melnick knows it, and he emphasizes it by shooting it as close as he does, he understands the way close-ups de-tether people from their bodies. And the accompanying voice-over from Daniel-- cynical and with hints of anger-- complements the image with its own monstrousness.
And this, too, is the sort of shot I wouldn't dare put it one of my movies. The fact that Melnick had the audacity to try it, the taste and discretion to know it'll work, and above-all the talent to pull it off--
Well, that is, in short, what keeps me coming back to the film. And it fills me with anticipation for his future work. And the fact that he's done this with a film that's explicitly about making a film is a testament to that skill. Whether you love the meta-stuff or despise it, Hardly Bear to Look at You is worth looking at. (Sorry. Couldn't resist.)
Statements two and three are in reference to one of the central themes and structural devices of Melnick's film, namely the transformation of experience into art, of longing and pain into writing, of life into cinema. It's a fairly thorough examination, at that, and Nick Rombes went as far as to say that it is "a love story, but also a story of the making of a love story... a film to love, even as it shows you its source code". And if you dig art about the artistic process and cinema about cinema, created by a director who is obviously quite cine-literate and not afraid to acknowledge great filmmakers by name, then there is a lot to fall in love with here.
The thing is, that whole thing just isn't my bag, at all. My tolerance for meta-film and films-about-making-films and the creative process is extremely, extremely low. It's one of the things that I generally can't stand and that almost always turns me off. (Exceptions: The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, The Red Shoes, La Belle Noiseuse, Boogie Nights, Celine and Julie Go Boating, though that last one is about watching and engaging with art, not making it.) For the same reason, I also have a low tolerance for Godard (ssh, don't tell Filmbrain).
And yet, I have watched the film three times. What is it, then, that has kept me coming back? Well, as I said at the top, there's a lot of stuff I dig about it.
First and foremost among these is the acting and the writing. The two lead roles are fully-realized: precisely defined yet dynamic enough that the characters can occupy different poles of behaviour without the end result being schizoid or otherwise straining belief.
Daniel (Jeremy Herman, who also wrote the script) is at times cynical, almost mercenary and cruel in his pursuit of Stella (Anna Neil), while at other times appears to be in full-blown puppy-love mode and many times is able by way of actorly alchemy to occupy both spheres at once.
In doing so, rather than reducing the role to one thing or the other, Herman and Melnick have created a performance that is more realistic than either extreme, one that speaks to a certain facet of the human, and especially male, experience. That is, they find the thing within people and men that allows us to be both monstrous reptiles and lost lovesick children and that's the thing that they put on the screen.
A similar balancing act is at the heart of Anna Neil's performance as Stella, but because Daniel serves as our viewpoint character, and because his lack of understanding for Stella is a crucial part of the film's design, she is deliberately a bit mysterious and hard to read. This doesn't make her performance any less stunning or any less the equal of Jeremy Herman's.
And I love the way, in certain key scenes (for example, the business about the temperature of wine) Daniel can barely hide his exasperation and, yes, his intellectual contempt for Stella. And the character reminds me a bit of certain men who like to play Pygmalion, romancing women that don't pose a threat to them, women they can mold and teach and own, body and soul. This fits in also with Daniel's odd possessiveness (witness how he bristles when another man kisses her, or invites her to a porno festival, despite the fact that they aren't in a relationship themselves). Smart writing, that. Smart acting.
And smart direction, because as any director with even the slightest trace of an ego can tell you, great performances don't just spring out of an actor fully-formed but as the result of collaboration and taste. A director has to know when to say "more", when to say "less", what to leave in and what to take out. And if you can judge a director's taste by the performances his actors give, then I can say hands down that Melnick's is impeccable.
That taste also expresses itself in some of the film's ballsier stylistic moments. The first few minutes of the film, in fact, are comprised of a silent, shaky-cam look at the sleeping Stella. The camera work is invasive, even violating. You feel every second as it zeroes in on her neck, and the feeling is a bit queasy. It's almost like a sort of challenge, a mocking invocation of the film's title: can you bear to look at her?, how much longer?
A friend said of our film Son of a Seahorse that the first twenty-two minutes felt like a "fuck you" to the audience, but what Melnick does is far more audacious (and perhaps even a bit incendiary) than anything we were doing. I wish I had the cajones to start a film like this.
And then, the sound cuts in briefly only to announce that the footage we just saw was being shot for a film. And, well, of course it was, as we're watching a film and there it is, but it's also footage from the film-within-the-film, and which is the real film, anyway? With even this first scene Melnick raises questions about the nature of film and the morality of capturing reality and invading intimacy (sleeping) for art. And he continues to ask these questions throughout the film, the blurring between "reality" and "art" being made more complicated by the fact that the "art" employs the "real" "people" in the same roles, re-enacting the same scenes, as they do in the "real" portions of the film. (Again, it's not a question that I personally find all that captivating, but your mileage may vary and if this is your kind of thing, seek it out.)
A visual that sticks with me even longer is a one of Daniel removing his contact lenses. Melnick shoots it really, really close, so that we can see every blood vessel in the eyeball, so that this monstrous finger is reaching in and digging around the eye sockets. It's a grotesque image, and Melnick knows it, and he emphasizes it by shooting it as close as he does, he understands the way close-ups de-tether people from their bodies. And the accompanying voice-over from Daniel-- cynical and with hints of anger-- complements the image with its own monstrousness.
And this, too, is the sort of shot I wouldn't dare put it one of my movies. The fact that Melnick had the audacity to try it, the taste and discretion to know it'll work, and above-all the talent to pull it off--
Well, that is, in short, what keeps me coming back to the film. And it fills me with anticipation for his future work. And the fact that he's done this with a film that's explicitly about making a film is a testament to that skill. Whether you love the meta-stuff or despise it, Hardly Bear to Look at You is worth looking at. (Sorry. Couldn't resist.)
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Indie Trailers A-Go-Go # 4
Preston Miller's GOD'S LAND.
Dmitry Trakovsky's MEETING ANDREI TARKOVSKY.
Jonatan Soderstrom's DEATH PARTY.
Dmitry Trakovsky's MEETING ANDREI TARKOVSKY.
Jonatan Soderstrom's DEATH PARTY.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Indie Trailers A-Go-Go # 3
Our friends from One Way or Another suggested we put up the trailer for Brian Ackley's Uptown, and so we'll start with that:
Remember, any indie filmmaker out there who thinks their trailer could stand to use a little more attention just has to drop us an e-mail at milos_parker at yahoo dot com. Don't be shy!
And, because Alejandro Adams is starved for attention, here's the trailer for his film Canary, playing tonight at Rooftop Films in New York.
That's all we have for today.
The point of these posts, again, is to highlight truly independent films that have fallen through the cracks-- regardless of genre or style, if you made a movie and you can't get a ounce of press, if your trailer on YouTube has been watched only a couple of dozen times-- then we'd like to help you. But you have to help us help you; please don't hesitate to send us an e-mail.
Remember, any indie filmmaker out there who thinks their trailer could stand to use a little more attention just has to drop us an e-mail at milos_parker at yahoo dot com. Don't be shy!
And, because Alejandro Adams is starved for attention, here's the trailer for his film Canary, playing tonight at Rooftop Films in New York.
That's all we have for today.
The point of these posts, again, is to highlight truly independent films that have fallen through the cracks-- regardless of genre or style, if you made a movie and you can't get a ounce of press, if your trailer on YouTube has been watched only a couple of dozen times-- then we'd like to help you. But you have to help us help you; please don't hesitate to send us an e-mail.
Monday, July 27, 2009
New MAN WHO LOVED Poster
You can buy THE MAN WHO LOVED here.
Should be noted that its cousin, SON OF A SEAHORSE, is also available on DVD.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Son of a Seahorse-- Now on DVD!
BUY IT NOW ON AMAZON!
Our film Son of a Seahorse is at long last available on DVD.
It's only $15 dollars-- a bargain, to be sure. We're not saying that you have to buy it-- we're just saying if you don't we might not be friends anymore. BUY IT NOW ON AMAZON!
Our film Son of a Seahorse is at long last available on DVD.
From an audacious opening scene that runs over 22 minutes (before the credits!) to an ending that is as quiet as it is disquieting, SON OF A SEAHORSE is an unusual (and unusually satisfying) comedy from the Russells. It's a very funny film about a very angry man. That conflicted and explosive man is played by David Schonscheck in a star-making performance that is contrasted and complimented by Adrienne Patterson's smart and stylish performance as his no-nonsense, sharp-edged wife.
The film features creature effects by Steampunk Legend Jake Hildebrandt, a supporting performance by filmmaker Joe Swanberg, and awesomeness, as always, by the Russells. It's DIY filmmaking at its boldest, brassiest, and funniest in a disc that's jam-packed with extras.
BONUS FEATURES: Three episodes of the zombie sitcom Ned and Sunshine; the full version of suicidal children's story Bernard the Lonely Snail; "Indoor Voices", a discussion of the film with Mary Russell, Tom Russell, David Schonscheck, and Adrienne Patterson.
It's only $15 dollars-- a bargain, to be sure. We're not saying that you have to buy it-- we're just saying if you don't we might not be friends anymore. BUY IT NOW ON AMAZON!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
LIFE INC. How the World Became a Corporation and How to Take It Back
"In Life Inc., award-winning writer, documentary filmmaker, and scholar Douglas Rushkoff traces how corporations went from a convenient legal fiction to the dominant fact of contemporary life. Indeed as Rushkoff shows, most Americans have so willingly adopted the values of corporations that they,re no longer even aware of it."
Take a look at the 9 minute "Life Inc The Movie". For more information about "LIFE INC. How The World Became A Corporation And How To Take It Back" and it's author, Douglas Rushkoff, check out http://www.lifeincorporated.net.
Take a look at the 9 minute "Life Inc The Movie". For more information about "LIFE INC. How The World Became A Corporation And How To Take It Back" and it's author, Douglas Rushkoff, check out http://www.lifeincorporated.net.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Second Party Games Site Launch
Today Second Party Games, the home for Tom's freeware games, went live, with a handy-dandy video chronicling the development of Side Saddle 2.
Because this site is more film-oriented, there won't be much by way of cross-posting between the two. So, bookmark it.
Because this site is more film-oriented, there won't be much by way of cross-posting between the two. So, bookmark it.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Indie Trailers A-Go-Go # 2
Three films and a game this time around. Please, please, please, please! don't hesitate to recommend indie films and/or games. The entire point of this is to raise the profile of films and filmmakers that haven't gotten a fair shake-- but since doing random searches for "indie trailer" usually only results in the usual festival favourites and Indywood fare, this isn't something I can do alone. If you're a filmmaker/game designer who needs some more attention, please send me an e-mail at milos_parker at yahoo dot com. Don't worry about being shameless about it-- I know that I'm not.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Indie Trailers A-Go-Go # 1
The trailer, the teaser, the preview. It's a bastard form, one that seeks to sum up a feature film-- an entire work of art-- in the space of thirty, sixty, maybe ninety seconds. To give an impression of the film, to induce a curiosity about it and a desire to see it, without misrepresenting it or giving away the good parts. It's almost an impossible task.
And I'm not sure how much this creature of commerce has to do with good box office-- I think everyone who was thinking of seeing Transformers 2 made up their minds long before the trailers. Months before the trailers hit the theaters, we've seen exclusive screen-shots and read "summer movie buzz" galore. Despite the fact that the commercials and trailers for Paul Blart: Mall Cop looked just as awful as the movie, everyone went to see it; nobody went to see Watchmen despite the massive advertising/marketing campaign.
So, as far as the blockbuster cinema goes, I don't think the trailer makes or breaks the deal. With (actual) independent films, I think it's a bit trickier. On the one hand, because they don't have those sort of mass-marketing campaigns that blockbuster and indywood films possess, and thus they don't have that same wide exposure. A trailer can be the thing that makes you want to see the film.
But, conversely and perversely, because they don't have that wide exposure, and because their trailers are unlikely to play in the cineplexes, the chances of you running across their trailer by chance is next to nil. There are so many independent film trailers that sit on their creators' websites and on video-sharing sites, unwatched and unloved, steadfastly refusing to go viral. Not to mention sidebar links to actually buy their films that go unclicked.
I don't have a solution to this problem, but I would like to give those indie trailers a little bit of love. And so, here's the first installment of Indie Trailers A-Go-Go, a (hopefully) continuing series here at Turtleneck Films. Feel free to e-mail me with any suggestions, especially if you're an independent filmmaker who feels they haven't got enough exposure.
Remember, if you'd like your trailer featured in this space in the future, please don't be shy.
And I'm not sure how much this creature of commerce has to do with good box office-- I think everyone who was thinking of seeing Transformers 2 made up their minds long before the trailers. Months before the trailers hit the theaters, we've seen exclusive screen-shots and read "summer movie buzz" galore. Despite the fact that the commercials and trailers for Paul Blart: Mall Cop looked just as awful as the movie, everyone went to see it; nobody went to see Watchmen despite the massive advertising/marketing campaign.
So, as far as the blockbuster cinema goes, I don't think the trailer makes or breaks the deal. With (actual) independent films, I think it's a bit trickier. On the one hand, because they don't have those sort of mass-marketing campaigns that blockbuster and indywood films possess, and thus they don't have that same wide exposure. A trailer can be the thing that makes you want to see the film.
But, conversely and perversely, because they don't have that wide exposure, and because their trailers are unlikely to play in the cineplexes, the chances of you running across their trailer by chance is next to nil. There are so many independent film trailers that sit on their creators' websites and on video-sharing sites, unwatched and unloved, steadfastly refusing to go viral. Not to mention sidebar links to actually buy their films that go unclicked.
I don't have a solution to this problem, but I would like to give those indie trailers a little bit of love. And so, here's the first installment of Indie Trailers A-Go-Go, a (hopefully) continuing series here at Turtleneck Films. Feel free to e-mail me with any suggestions, especially if you're an independent filmmaker who feels they haven't got enough exposure.
Remember, if you'd like your trailer featured in this space in the future, please don't be shy.
RACC High Concept Contest # 1: The Forgotten Man
So, from time to time, Tom does some fiction writing over at the USENET newsgroup rec.arts.comics.creative. It is here, for example, that the rough draft of Jolt City was first unleashed upon the world, as well as six or Seven Romances. He's also won a fair number of awards for said fiction-- not that he's bragging or anything.
And while he's been concentrating more on filmmaking than fiction, he still feels the need to give something back to the community that's given him so much. And it was in that spirit that he created the first of hopefully many "High Concept" contests, which has just come to a close.
A rough sketch of a character idea-- the high concept in question-- is provided to the group as a whole and anyone who wants to participate writes a story delivering on that character concept. The winner, by popular vote, will provide the concept for the next contest, and so on.
Since I started the first contest, I provided the first concept: the Forgotten Man, a Depression-era pulp hero/superhero/vigilante. The basic idea behind the concept is that, once every twenty-four hours, every person on earth forgets everything they know about him.
Six authors answered the challenge, and you're free to read their stories over at RACC. You're also free to vote for your favourite between now and July 18, 2009. Make your voice heard here.
And while he's been concentrating more on filmmaking than fiction, he still feels the need to give something back to the community that's given him so much. And it was in that spirit that he created the first of hopefully many "High Concept" contests, which has just come to a close.
A rough sketch of a character idea-- the high concept in question-- is provided to the group as a whole and anyone who wants to participate writes a story delivering on that character concept. The winner, by popular vote, will provide the concept for the next contest, and so on.
Since I started the first contest, I provided the first concept: the Forgotten Man, a Depression-era pulp hero/superhero/vigilante. The basic idea behind the concept is that, once every twenty-four hours, every person on earth forgets everything they know about him.
Six authors answered the challenge, and you're free to read their stories over at RACC. You're also free to vote for your favourite between now and July 18, 2009. Make your voice heard here.
Friday, July 03, 2009
An Actual Conversation I Overheard At the Post Office
Long line. Behind me, a boy and his mother.
BOY: When you were little, my dad was bigger than you.
MOM: No. I'm older than your dad.
BOY: But my dad is old.
MOM: Well, thanks.
BOY: When you were little, I was the grown-up and I made you sit in the corner.
MOM: Okay.
BOY: When you were little, my dad was bigger than you.
MOM: No. I'm older than your dad.
BOY: But my dad is old.
MOM: Well, thanks.
BOY: When you were little, I was the grown-up and I made you sit in the corner.
MOM: Okay.
turtlebit: The web it is a-changin'
In 1997, when I first plugged into the web, if anyone had suggested developing a website where anyone could mosey on in and change it around as they saw fit, free of charge, he or she, or me, would have been laughed at. In 1997, if a page loaded in less than five minutes we were ecstatic. We happily set up our websites on "buggy" sites such as Tripod, Geocities, and Angelfire. If we wanted information, we bought subscriptions to sites. We participated in or lurked on USENET and bulletin boards. We watched movies and television shows on that box, you remember, the one usually located in the living room, with the picture tube that wasn't much different from the 1960's version.
As the new millennia has progressed, we have seen social software, such as blogs and wikis, bring about a new era of collaboration and access to information. Wikipedia gives us access to a continuously updated world of information. Blogs are so incredibly easy to set up and customize that we'll often use one to get a website online ASAP, or in lieu of a "real" website altogether. According to Tim O'Reilly, of O'Reilly, "the 'blogosphere' can be thought of as a new, peer-to-peer equivalent to Usenet and bulletin-boards" of yesteryear.
Blogosphere? Really? Not so long ago it was the internet or the world wide web, web for short. We were happy with our simple forays into the 'ethernet', um, internet.
Then comes YouTube. Facebook. Twitter. Suddenly we can participate, yes!, participate!, on a larger and more creative scale. Make a short movie or serialize a long one, become a taking head and vlog your head off, catch a crime as it happens, show your kitty flushing a toilet over and over and over again...you're on YouTube. Connect with old friends and classmates, share a photo album and constantly update us on your latest activities and shenanigans...you're on Facebook.
Now we have Twitter. Tim O'Reilly says that "the blogosphere is the equivalent of constant mental chatter in the forebrain, the voice we hear in all of our heads". He said this several years before Twitter, which for my money, fits easily into this description. But it's not just inconsequential chatter; the recent and ongoing freedom demonstrations in Iran have put Twitter in the central role of information disseminator and organizational tool. Whoa. It's not just an oddity or a quirk but a necessity. We can converse with anyone anywhere about anything – for free.
The times they are a-changing. Continuously so. In 2017 who knows what the internet will look like, how we will be interacting with it, and how on earth we got by before it.
As the new millennia has progressed, we have seen social software, such as blogs and wikis, bring about a new era of collaboration and access to information. Wikipedia gives us access to a continuously updated world of information. Blogs are so incredibly easy to set up and customize that we'll often use one to get a website online ASAP, or in lieu of a "real" website altogether. According to Tim O'Reilly, of O'Reilly, "the 'blogosphere' can be thought of as a new, peer-to-peer equivalent to Usenet and bulletin-boards" of yesteryear.
Blogosphere? Really? Not so long ago it was the internet or the world wide web, web for short. We were happy with our simple forays into the 'ethernet', um, internet.
Then comes YouTube. Facebook. Twitter. Suddenly we can participate, yes!, participate!, on a larger and more creative scale. Make a short movie or serialize a long one, become a taking head and vlog your head off, catch a crime as it happens, show your kitty flushing a toilet over and over and over again...you're on YouTube. Connect with old friends and classmates, share a photo album and constantly update us on your latest activities and shenanigans...you're on Facebook.
Now we have Twitter. Tim O'Reilly says that "the blogosphere is the equivalent of constant mental chatter in the forebrain, the voice we hear in all of our heads". He said this several years before Twitter, which for my money, fits easily into this description. But it's not just inconsequential chatter; the recent and ongoing freedom demonstrations in Iran have put Twitter in the central role of information disseminator and organizational tool. Whoa. It's not just an oddity or a quirk but a necessity. We can converse with anyone anywhere about anything – for free.
The times they are a-changing. Continuously so. In 2017 who knows what the internet will look like, how we will be interacting with it, and how on earth we got by before it.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
E-Mail and Netiquette
Over the last couple weeks, a lot of people have tried to contact us for one reason or another, whether via twitter, youtube, various comments threads, what-have-you-- things we don't necessarily pay a whole lot of attention to. So, to make things a little easier, here's Tom's e-mail address:
milos_parker at yahoo dot com
While we're on the subject of returning e-mails, let me throw a proposed bit of netiquette out there: if an actual person (and not a robot) has taken the time to compose a letter and send it to you electronically, you owe them at least the courtesy of a response. That doesn't mean you have to become pen pals with someone, that doesn't mean you have to take time out of your busy schedule to compose voluminous paragraphs. But you can at least say, hey, I got your e-mail, I acknowledge that you exist, and I appreciate the fact that you took the time to write me.
I promise I will at least do that; we're not going to ignore anybody. If you haven't gotten a response back from us within a week, that means we didn't get the e-mail; feel free to send it again.
milos_parker at yahoo dot com
While we're on the subject of returning e-mails, let me throw a proposed bit of netiquette out there: if an actual person (and not a robot) has taken the time to compose a letter and send it to you electronically, you owe them at least the courtesy of a response. That doesn't mean you have to become pen pals with someone, that doesn't mean you have to take time out of your busy schedule to compose voluminous paragraphs. But you can at least say, hey, I got your e-mail, I acknowledge that you exist, and I appreciate the fact that you took the time to write me.
I promise I will at least do that; we're not going to ignore anybody. If you haven't gotten a response back from us within a week, that means we didn't get the e-mail; feel free to send it again.
Monday, June 29, 2009
The Singular Governor Dreyer
Yesterday, I posted a review of Ryan Andrew Balas's film, Carter. A few moments ago, Balas brought my attention to this.
At first glance, it appears to be a re-posting of my review. But once you actually start to read it, it gets a little weird. The first sentence of my review, for example, reads:
The topper, however, is this devastating critique of Tyler Perry.
At first glance, it appears to be a re-posting of my review. But once you actually start to read it, it gets a little weird. The first sentence of my review, for example, reads:
Ryan Andrew Balas's film Carter is being touted by its creator as an "experimental narrative", and so, in that spirit, we'll start our consideration of Carter with an experiment.While the first sentence of the re-posting goes like this:
Ryan Andrew Balas’s dusting Carter is being touted during its God as an “experimental narrative”, and so, in that breath, we’ll start our baksheesh of Carter with an process.And I said, well, that's weird, someone's gone crazy with a thesaurus and used my review to generate a bunch of gibberish. But then, as I was reading it, I found a few of the passages to be quite amusing. For example:
- Well, all that is singular, Tom, but what does it on a anecdote on to do with the breach of Carter?
- A later disagreeable post of Sminch in his underwear emphasizes the inborn ridiculousness of the spear imperturbability, while Carter’s exposed repayment and elongated defoliate legs are attraction incarnate.
- This is why the singular governor Dreyer insisted on making The Passion of Joan of Arc a accurate unruffled film
- truly Film is cadence and music is rhythm; when married, the man Friday tends to reel the other, subverting its nuances, perverting its organization, violating its decency.
- freely and suckle along vs. undecided and backwards
- And I would prognosticate, over-all, my strongest disparagement of Carter is that there’s so much music and that that music, to my shrewdness, again seems to farm tabulation to the visual elements on the concealment.
- What a wonderful genesis of the cunning convention of film– how freeing and still how horrid: in the participation of a dusting with no railway station, no article, and no parable is a dusting properly without office in the participation of authorial notice on or shape.
- She is no manic pixie harmonize.
- her monologue that irrevocably convinces him that autobiography is merit living.
- Let’s puke in a pussy-pop to-do and gyrate the climax credits.
- It is fully and wonderfully eight minutes of continually and interruption, chunk and turbulence, hurl on account of milky digital be unearthed interacting with a cover shackles observable ostentation, cover shackles arms, cover shackles legs.
The topper, however, is this devastating critique of Tyler Perry.
a tonal mishap on sickly with Tyler Perry. truly lowering truly lowering trulyTruly.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
MOVIE REVIEW: Ryan Andrew Balas's CARTER
Ryan Andrew Balas's film Carter is being touted by its creator as an "experimental narrative", and so, in that spirit, we'll start our consideration of Carter with an experiment. I'm going to sketch out the plot of the picture and then we're going to try and imagine what the film might be like using our general knowledge of "quirky indie gems" and their accompanying filmic grammar. Trust me that the reason for this little thought experiment will soon become apparent. 
So, that plot: Jebediah Sminch, three days shy of twenty-five intends to carry out a suicide vow he made when he was seventeen, despite the fact that he is, in his own words, happier than he's ever been. The vow: if he's not married by twenty-three, he makes his exit at twenty-five. His lady-love, the titular Carter, is understandably concerned, as are his friends.
From the male lead's name to the vow itself, there's quirk to spare, so let's see how this would all play out if, say, Jason Reitman was directing it. We might get a scene at the start of the picture that spells out the vow. There'll be a scene where Sminch meets Carter, perhaps a Manic Pixie Girl, and begins to realize that, gee, maybe he has a reason to live after all. There's the scene where Carter discovers Sminch's vow, just in time for one of those late second act romantic crises, and the monologue (it's always a monologue) in which we finally discover the reason for the vow and then her monologue that finally convinces him that life is worth living. Let's throw in a pussy-pop song and roll the end credits.
It should provide the reader some relief to know that none of the above describes Carter. She is no manic pixie girl. They have been dating for some time when the film begins. Said beginning is, a brief prologue aside, nearly eight wordless minutes of the title character waking up and getting dressed. We don't meet Sminch until the next scene and don't learn of his vow until shortly after that. His motives are never really explained and there's no scene where "the power of love" makes everything all better, insipidly ever after, amen.
The reason for my little thought experiment, then, is to put the film's experimentation in some context, namely: this is all the ways it could have gone horribly wrong. These are all the normal, traditional, usual ways of approaching this sort of character and story. Carter approaches things sideways, reinforcing the innate unknowableness of its suicidal protagonist through a structure that keeps us at arm's length.
And it's important to note that Balas's experimentation in Carter is primarily structural in nature. Godard and Motlagh conduct experiments in form and film language; Carter is an experiment in time and the arrangement of time.
This is perhaps at its most apparent in the aforementioned opening scene. To say that the scene is pointless misses the point and yet is actually quite accurate, as the scene has no "point", no nugget of information to take away from the experience, no zeroed-in moment that speaks volumes about her character. It is simply and wonderfully eight minutes of time and space, body and motion, clear white digital light interacting with a human face, human arms, human legs. The "point" is the thing itself.
I tried, and failed, some months ago to write a review or at least an appreciation of Philip Groning's Into Great Silence. What I did manage to say there applies to this opening of Carter as well. Please forgive any redundancies:
Here is a film that has no narrative and indeed no "characters", no "point", no "ideas". Here is a film that just is, that merely exists as space, image, sound, and time.
What a wonderful conception of the art form of film-- how freeing and yet how frightening: for a film with no point, no theme, and no story is a film completely without room for authorial comment or style. While like all film it is a "shaped" experience-- composed of shots married together and cut short by the magic of editing-- Into Great Silence doesn't really give you a sense of that shaping. There is never the sense that our eye is being directed to this aspect of a shot or that one, or that a point is being crystallized by a telling detail.
The film simply is and, surprisingly, that is more than enough.
Groning's "documentary" (though it is quite unlike any other documentary I have ever seen) doesn't have any voice-over or, more importantly, any music. Film is rhythm and music is rhythm; when married, the second tends to overwhelm the other, subverting its nuances, perverting its structure, violating its integrity. This is why the great master Dreyer insisted on making The Passion of Joan of Arc a true silent film; music can impose a rhythm that runs counter to the visual and temporal rhythms of the film.
Well, all that is great, Tom, but what does it have to do with the opening of Carter? That opening, it should be said, has wall-to-wall music. And while that music helps the scene "move" faster (of course it does, an aural rhythm is always faster than a visual one), I think it does subtract from the essential mystery of the scene. And I would say, over-all, my strongest criticism of Carter is that there's so much music and that that music, to my mind, often seems to work counter to the visual elements on the screen.
Carter's first scene is defined by white natural light, by the gangliness of her legs/body, and the openness of the apartment. By contrast, Sminch is introduced to us in dismal office lighting, a cramped and compressed figure squeezed into a cramped and compressed space. When one of his coworkers comes in and begins describing, in graphic detail, some Bang Bros.-esque pornography (with some bestiality thrown in for good measure), Sminch quite literally has his back against the corner. He has nowhere to go, no way to extradite himself from this conversation, and so he just responds noncommittally, content to wait it out.
Indeed, it is only when his co-worker suggests that they start their own pornography website centered around breaking into houses and raping people in their sleep (he claims it'll be the "Marlon Brando of porn") that Sminch asserts himself. The co-worker is such a ghastly character and the scene such an abrasive one that it feels at first like a mistake, a tonal mishap on par with Tyler Perry.
But Balas's abrupt switch in tone is by design and has a purpose that is highlighted by its place in the film's structure. I would argue that the main character in that scene is not Sminch or any of his co-workers, but rather Carter herself, despite the fact that she doesn't actually appear within it and that she's never mentioned in any of the dialogue. To wit: that first scene, that glorious eight minutes of time and movement and nothing else, introduce us to Carter but tell us nothing substantial about her. The scene that follows is completely different in terms of framing (open if still somewhat afflicted by close-up-it is versus cramped and hedged in), the size of the room (big vs. small), the way the characters move through the space they have available to them (freely and forward vs. hesitant and backwards), the type of light (sun vs. office), and the aural elements (wordless music vs. non-stop profanity). In juxtaposing these sequences, Balas asks us to compare them and, somewhat more importantly, the people in them.
Sminch is trapped, his body language folding into itself, his face hidden by glasses and a moustache like pieces of a costume. He's almost a caricature of a nebbish, even down to his nebbishy, pinched-in name.
Obviously, yes, Carter is not a nebbish. She has a normal if masculine name and her face is unadorned. We can deduce all that with just that first sequence, no comparisons necessary. But once we do make those comparisons, qualities that are present in the first sequence but hard to "read" without some degree of manipulative authorial comment are highlighted: Carter's body language might not register her casualness, her comfortableness with her own body, her freedom of movement, without boxed-in Sminch to act as a foil. Because Sminch is dingily lit in a dingy little room, sad and ordinary, Carter is that much more idealized by the clean white light of her window. A later scene of Sminch in his underwear emphasizes the essential ridiculousness of the male figure, while Carter's naked back and long bare legs are beauty incarnate. Sminch might be inundated by pornographic profanity, but Carter is blessed with meditative music.
And while I do still think that that music weakens the sequence and perhaps the film as a whole, I do have to admit that it works in terms of our conception of Carter. Balas has stated that he decided to tell the story of Carter the film from the point of view of Carter the person because he thought it would be more interesting, but I'm not sure if it's completely accurate insomuch as, (a), we don't follow Carter exclusively, Travis Bickle-like, but rather divide our time in the film's first third between both protagonists, and, (b), the character of Carter, even in those scenes in which Sminch does not appear, seems to my mind to be viewed through his eyes: an angel in white light, silent and at peace, moving free and lovely with soft music-- so very different from the pinched-in Sminch.
Indeed, this process of idealization is present in the "perfect day" the two of them share. More than once, the dialogue stops and the natural sound is replaced completely with music as the two lovers walk and cavort and play. These idylls are not particular, specific, or prickly; rather, they are very much like every other "perfect day" we've seen in films (the dialogue sequences in-between them that focus on Sminch's vow being the exception).
The first two times that I saw this film, I singled these sequences out in my notes as weak spots. But, thinking about it now, they do serve a purpose in further highlighting the ways in which Sminch perhaps takes Carter for granted. That he sees her a bit less as a person and more as a Girlfriend, that she makes him happy because they hold hands and climb on cement sculptures and he twirls her around, dipping in for a smooch. (Now, whether or not Balas might have been able to get this across using the time-sculpting of the opening or through the compare and contrast of the first two scenes, is a perfectly valid question; I could have done without the twirl-dive-smooch and the music myself.)
There's only one scene in which Carter and Sminch discuss his eminent suicide, and it is likely the best scene, acting-wise, in the film-- my favourite over-all scene involves Carter giving another woman (a lover?) Sminch's clothes, presumably after his demise, a digression that tells us important things about Sminch and the dynamic of his relationship with Carter despite the fact that he is nowhere to be seen. (That sentence is, in and of itself, a digression, but, hey.)
Anyway: the confrontation. Sminch is hesitant to talk about it, and Carter bristles: "Just dismiss me." And she's right, he has been dismissing her, her love for him, her say in the relationship. "Why are you going away?" she says in perhaps the saddest, simplest line in the film. "You make me want to live longer."
His best answer is that it's like leaving the party after you've told the funniest joke-- a variation of "live fast, die young, and leave a good looking corpse" for the nebbishly-inclined. It is an answer that disregards Carter and the pain that his death is likely to cause her. It's also an answer that he's probably not fully convinced of; before he offers it up, he tries to evade Carter's request for an explanation by saying that it is enough trying to making himself get it.
There's an essential and inherent nihilism in Sminch's apparent lack of self-worth, one that manifests itself, again foil-like, through Sminch's (and the film's) beatification of Carter. (Perhaps he feels unworthy of her.) He does seem to be acting under a compulsion, a desire not his own over which he has no control; his suicide vow is a strangely Catholic one, justified in an earlier interior monologue: "I made a vow. I made a promise. And those things are holy." The irony of a holy suicide vow is perhaps lost on Sminch but not on the film; even when we burrow deep inside his head, we find ourselves outside of him.
That is, of course, by design; Sminch is a deliberate cipher, protecting himself with his moustache and glasses. Which, come to think of it, might be how Carter sees him. It's a double-portrait, Carter-as-seen-by-Sminch and Sminch-as-seen-by-Carter, that could only be accomplished through Balas's structural experimentation. But neither protagonist really understands the other, and so our own understanding is limited.
A more straightforward narrative might have given us more insight into Sminch, might have gotten us past the glasses and the moustache, might have deepened the mystery and the irony behind his vow, might have explored his complexities in a more satisfying manner. And yet, had it gone that route, the film wouldn't have accomplished the things it does; it might have been a work of "quality" (in Truffaut's sense of the word) but not nearly as interesting or as memorable. That's the trade-off with any experiment, whether structural or formal: it can go some place extraordinary but it might not all come together as a satisfying whole.
If Carter is perhaps not completely satisfying, let it be said that it is unsatisfying in its own way and on its own terms. Certain sequences, particularly the scene with the two women and the clothes, the twenty-five or so minutes before our two lovers share the same frame, and the sudden appearance of a pussycat, mark Ryan Andrew Balas as someone worth watching even if, my structural explanation aside, the idyllic sequences aren't quite as interesting or revelatory.
I look forward to his next experiment.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
SEVEN ROMANCES on AMAZON.COM
A collection of short stories, Seven Romances. "These stories of love, sex, longing, loss, bitterness, and despair unfold in first-person confessionals that are by turns direct and lyrical, shocking and sweet." Grown-ups only.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
An Actual Conversation I Just Had At Sears.
The place: Sears. The purchase: The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (the original) on DVD. The price: $7.50. The conversation with the check-out girl, reproduced verbatim:
"Are you guys going to see the new Pelham?"
"No, probably not."
"Why, do you like the first one too much?"
"Not exactly."
"Do you not like the first one?"
"I like it a lot, I just haven't heard any good things about the new one."
"But it has John Travolta."
"That's part of the problem."
(overlap) "And Denzel. I don't know what you're talking about. It looks to be the summer movie of the year."
I swear to God, this actually happened.
"Are you guys going to see the new Pelham?"
"No, probably not."
"Why, do you like the first one too much?"
"Not exactly."
"Do you not like the first one?"
"I like it a lot, I just haven't heard any good things about the new one."
"But it has John Travolta."
"That's part of the problem."
(overlap) "And Denzel. I don't know what you're talking about. It looks to be the summer movie of the year."
I swear to God, this actually happened.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Billy Jack
An appreciation of Tom Laughlin's Billy Jack that Tom did for Hammer To Nail. Comments are welcome here or there.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
The Weekend of Finishings
I finished my Billy Jack appreciation. I finished my second column in the Stripping With Tom Russell series. Links to both will be posted when they're available. Also finished David Schonscheck's wedding video. On this weekend's list:
- Watch Ryan Balas's Carter.
- Finish formatting/proofreading Seven Romances book.
- Pimp Jolt City book.
- Finish Sacred 2 review for Monitor Duty.
- Finish That Top Secret Top 100 List.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
"The mask is everything, so make it a good one."
My novel Jolt City is now available for $25.00. Expect it to pop up on Amazon.com within the next two weeks or so.
From the back cover:
When it was originally published on the legendary USENET newsgroup rec.arts.comics.creative, Tom Russell's superhero serial JOLT CITY was awarded the coveted Favorite Acra Series RACCie (for a serial aimed at a mature audience) two years in a row. The following year, the readers of RACC voted it their Favorite Series over-all and Tom one of their two Favorite Authors. Now, the best superhero fiction on the internet has become the best superhero novel on your bookshelf.
When Jolt City's sworn protector the Green Knight falls ill with cancer, his former sidekick Martin Rock embarks on an incredible journey: from self-reliance to friendship, from pain to peace, from anger to joy.
Along the way, he'll fight a jousting match atop a unicycle, team up with a super-speedster, visit an alternate earth populated by talking snails, and thwart an invasion.
Unabashedly in love with its genre but unafraid to take it deadly seriously, JOLT CITY is free of camp, laced with literary wit and heightened with stark poetical beauty. So turn off your bleeper, snuggle up in bed, pull the covers over your head, flick on your electric torch, and get ready for 358 pages of unrelenting two-fisted awesomeness.
"... a rollicking story of a hero taking on the task to fill the shoes of his mentor-- with a little luck but mostly with hard work, determination, and a willingness to think laterally in the occasionally bizarre world of four-colour superheroes."-- Saxon Brenton, author of Limp-Asparagus Lad
So buy the darn thing already.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Ecco Jr. > Ecco 1 & 2-- Don't argue, you know I'm right.
Or, Weekend To-Do List Update.
- Still working on Billy Jack appreciation, should be done by end of night/early morning. Depends on how big I want to go with it-- I might have to rewatch Trial of Billy Jack and Born Losers so I can discuss the film in the context of Laughlin's oeuvre. Not looking forward to revisiting Trial, as its nearly three hours long and at once the weakest and the most ambitious of the four.
- Organized my notes on Sacred 2 into an outline-- still have to finish writing the review, however. Should be getting the new Terminator game soon and I don't want to fall behind.
- Did nothing in the garden this weekend. Too humid out.
- Should be doing the last bit of voice-over for that wedding video this Thursday (hi Marshall!).
- Did a little bit more work on the script but not enough.
- Did a substantial amount of work on Side Saddle 2 and am about to restart it from scratch. This is I do at least two or three times for every game I make and I accept it as a natural if sometimes frustrating part of the process.
- And finally, what I spent most of my weekend doing: working on that Super-Secret Top 100 List for a Super-Secret Popular Culture and Gaming Website. Or, rather, I spent the weekend doing, ahem, "research". Said research is what led me to make the obviously contrarian conclusion that gives this post its title. While I have actual game-design reasons and artsy-fartsy mumbo-jumbo I can cite in support of my determination, let me be a bit pithier and simply say that Ecco Jr. is the only game in the series that I can get beat.
Saturday, June 06, 2009
To Do List
- Finish appreciation of Billy Jack for Hammer to Nail;
- Finish Super-Secret List for Super-Secret Gaming Website;
- Finish Sacred 2 review for Monitor Duty;
- Finish planting the vegetable garden;
- Finish a wedding video, assuming we'll get a hold of the best man for some dubbing;
- Get back to work on the script for our next film;
- and work on Side Saddle 2.
The latter's progress is being charted in a development blog over at Game Jolt. I'm doing it there in case some of our readers have zero interest in game design; those of you who are interested in my adventures in the Eighth Art are encouraged to click this link.
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