Film or Flim Flam?

I am, as most of my friends will agree, a bit of a movie freak. 

Living in as small a town as I do, the opportunities to see interesting foreign and indie films in a theatre setting are fairly limited. It is also sometimes difficult to find people to discus the merits of movies that attempt to do something different, whether it be through the use of imagery, sound, editing, casting or otherwise.

One of the most traumatic experiences I have ever had watching a movie came years ago when I picked up a copy of "Irreversible" by Gaspar Noe. I had read some press about it and people had certainly made a point of informing the reader that this was a tough movie to watch, both for the directorial style and the subject matter itself.

I have watched many films that have been described as "hard to watch" or "disturbing" and walked away affected, but certainly not shaken (there are a few exceptions to that statement though). Irreversible was, right from the opening credits, abrasive and disorienting. By the end of the film, not only was I shaken, I was shaking. It was a highly unpleasant experience, but this brings me to the point. After thinking upon the film for some time, I started to respect it in an odd way. The depictions of violence and rape in that film made me feel sick, as I think our natural reaction to such things ought to be. While certainly not enjoyable in any way, I was glad to have seen Irreversible one time and will never see it again. 

It is difficult to discuss this with people who view film as simply a distraction or entertainment since experiences such as Irreversible do not fall into either of those categories. I certainly could not recommend to MOST people that they should sit down and watch Irreversible, I would not want to be responsible for the sort of emotional trauma that might result.

So, I recently watched Gaspar Noe's most recent film "Enter The Void". It is a nearly three hour long meditation on life and death, family bonds and also the results of ingesting lots of psychedelics. Not suprisingly, "Enter The Void" is also a very difficult film to watch. There is very little plot, very little structure and to be sure, there are some pretty graphic images. The film borders on tedium, but at the same time, managed to induce a feeling of disconnection and disorientation that was much like being on psychedelics. 

I find myself pondering some of the images and motifs from the film which, much like Irreversible has definitely   resulted in a reaction. Many people call Noe's movies exploitative, and I can certainly see where they are coming from. My gut reaction however is that these movies are more than sheer exploitation and shock. While I can't recommend watching any of Noe's films to people I know, I am certainly glad that they are out there. Whether one can appreciate the value in such films or not, surely someone doing something different with an artistic medium can't be a bad thing.

I have no idea whether anyone who reads this will have an opinion (and it certainly doesn't need to be tied to Noe's films)  if you do, I would be interested to hear it.

Poo Minefield

Just walked outside and it is a beautiful day. The warmth has melted all the snow, and for that I am thankful. That being said, it is as if someone has performed some sort of magic trick a la pulling the tablecloth off the table. Where once there was snow....ta daaaa! Your city is now covered in garbage and dog poo!


It is a long standing tradition in Canada. The Spring thaw, where all the detritus accumulated over the Winter months is revealed. I like to call this phenomenon the "dog poo minefield". The newly uncovered sidewalk treasures are everywhere and the skill required to effectively dance around them all would make Fred Astaire look like he had two left feet.


The other yearly occurance (specifically in Kingston) is the "street corner swimming pools". Kingston being a fairly old city, when the great amounts of snow thaw, the resulting water accumulates on each and every street corner. In order to traverse these newly formed lakes, one would ideally have a canoe or kayak handy. This however, is not feasible, so instead, I propose that the city of Kingston hang ropes from the streetlights so that we may swing across these giant puddles much like in the classic video game Pitfall. I feel that this is much more reasonable and cost effective.


I encourage the citizens of Kingston to call, email or write to City Hall and demand Pitfall ropes. Also, if you live in a city which is similarly afflicted, please feel free to implement this idea in your home town. I also recommend leopard skin loincloths and Tarzan-like yodelling so that motorists are aware of your presence.


It is this sort of forward thinking and grass roots activism that makes communities better. I mean, surely there was a reason that those ropes (which we were never actually ALLOWED to swing on) were in every school gymnasium I have encountered. Perhaps this idea was to be implemented decades ago, but due to poor governmental decision making, just never happened.


Now is our chance people...carpe diem and happy swinging!

Laundry and Literacy

I now live in an apartment which has no on site laundry facilities so today I made the trek to my local laundry so that I may get back to wearing underwear and socks that do not look as though they have been crocheted. It was a treacherous walk as the laundry is up a hill which could be currently used as an olympic class luge and bobsled course.

Since I choose to only do laundry once I am reduced to wearing the three wolf moon sweater my aunt gave me for christmas, I looked somewhat like a sherpa. My duffle full of slowly fermenting clothes was roughly equal to my own body weight and made the ascent much more trecherous. This is where the kinship with sherpas came to an end as I share none of the sure footed qualities they are known for.

Walking up the hill, I became less and less sherpa-like and more and more like a drunken penguin with some strange bulbous growth on its back. After falling twice (much to the amusement of passing motorists due to my flailing like an overturned turtle trying to right itself), I finally made it to the laundry.

We now get to the real point of the story. After donning my hazmat suit and depositing my clothes in the machines, I decided to go to the book store and pick up a magazine to read. Many years ago, I remember buying the first issue of Wired magazine and thoroughly enjoying the expansive, well written articles therein. Over the years, I have purchased many issues of Wired and always felt that it was money well spent.

As I looked through the magazine section, I saw the familiar Wired logo and decided to pick up a copy as I had not done so in quite some time. After drunken penguining back to the laundry, I was shocked to see how much the magazine had changed. Gone were the long and interesting articles, replaced with factoids and lists. I was horrified to see that Wired had become Maxim for nerds (minus the soft porn).

While I understand that the internet is severely damaging the sales of magazines, I feel that this short attention span approach to publishing is completely the wrong way to go. I am much more inclined to buy a magazine if it is full of in depth and relevant articles. If I wanted a "pros and cons" comparison of bike locks, I will use online sources that are probably much better suited to providing relevant product knowledge. The publishing industry has the same sort of issues to deal with as the film and music industries and it disheartens me to see that they are just as ineffectual as the other two in proactively finding new ways to survive without dumbing everything down.

What is your opinion on this? Can electronic media and periodicals co-exist or are the days of magazines numbered?

Crisismas

Ah Christmas. 


A time of giving, family, friends and more food and drink than one would normally consume throughout the year. A time when people set aside their differences for a little while and enjoy the festive spirit.


I would love to buy in, I really really would. 


Peace on Earth and good will to men (don't worry ladies, I'm sure this is just a clerical oversight)? Sign me up, I love peace and good will, especially Good Will Hunting, those Boston accents are so quaint and funny. 


Charity and thinking of those less fortunate? Absolutely! Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE has the right to one of those giant Toblerone bars (and possibly a chocolate orange) over the yuletide season. 


Pretty lights everywhere and oh, the smell of freshly deforested pine? I can't tell you how much I love Christmas lights, my entire apartment is lit with them. LEDs of course, one must be sensitive to the demands placed on the power grid. Also, rope lights, I feel like rope lights would have been the defacto lighting for Christmas if the strip joints hadn't gotten to them first. As you may have noticed a few sentences ago, I live in an apartment, so trees are not quite feasible for me, a similar effect can be achieved however with a few strategically placed pine scented car fresheners.


Now, obviously I am not without Christmas cheer, I mean, read the above again, I should be considered as a replacement should Santa ever have a mishap. However, there is something that holds me back, a yearly occurrance that has caused me to despise this time of year.


I have dubbed this Crisismas.


To begin, I have been sick every freaking Christmas for the past forever. I do not mean a little sniffle and a small cough politely muffled into the hand. Every internal component of my body liquifies and then holds a hundred metre dash to see who can make it out of my nostrils first. As far as I can tell, my brain wins every year because in addition to doing my best impression of Slimer from Ghostbusters, the cavity where my brain USED to be gets replaced by a helium filled mylar balloon. I am not sure if any of you have felt this sensation, but when ill and feverish, I have the tendency to feel somewhat like one of those giant Macy's Day parade balloons: disconnected except for a few small strands of rope held by people dressed as upside-down clowns. This is a disconcerting walk through the world, if only for a few days.


On top of my yearly descent into snot filled, feverish discombobulation, there has been, for the past few years anyways, a major crisis that pops up during the holiday season. If you have ever tried to achieve anything of meaning over the holidays, I am sure you can relate. Finding a new job or a place to live is nigh on impossible when half the people you need to deal with are drunk on rum and eggnog and wearing dancing santa hats. In case you are unsure, I would like to impart one bit of knowledge I have gleaned over the years: eggnog drunkeness and dancing santa hats are not desirable qualities in either landlords or employers.


So, as I sit here, trying yet again to resolve my Crisismas (while also trying to keep my copious nasal secretions from fowling my keyboard), it occurs to me that a great many people are likely in the same inflatable canoe as myself. To these poor unfortunate souls, I recommend the traditional Crisismas gift. A copy of Good Will Hunting (or just wait 5 minutes, it'll likely be on TBS), a giant Toblerone and some pine tree air fresheners. Take a couple of deep pine filled breaths and realize you are not alone...now let's get drunk on eggnog and join the dancing hat party.