Where Have I Been?
Dear Readersip,
I know, you have missed me over the last month or so. Fear not, I’m still alive and well, in case you thought maybe a crane fell on my head or something. It’s been a rather wild month, though none of it may seem exciting to you. Just very busy at work and spending lots of time with the girlfriend (which I’ll take over blogging any day!). Anyway, I’ll do my best to make a comeback soon enough.
What I’m Reading and Why
Thought some of yins out in the world wide web would like to know what I clutch on the subway. There’s actually a lot.
The Mammoth Book of Horror Comics, Edited by Peter Normanton
This beast of a book has been following me around lately. It all started when I had the bright idea to make a horror film, but couldn’t come u p with, ya know, plots or characters or those things you need to get some decent writing done. I don’t want to reveal my diabolical plans just yet, but I can tell you that I’ve been fascinated by zombies lately. I’d really love to get to know them better, get inside their heads (though I bet they’d want into my cranium more).
Anyway, killing time in the graphic novel section at B&N last week, I happened upon this tome of murderous tales. So far it’s tons of fun. Most of the comics I’ve read so far have been from 1950-1955, and while none have literally terrified me, they certainly have been quite entertaining. The one that will be toughest to top in this book is “Hitler’s Head” by Don Heck (and co.). It tells the tale of a decorated Nazi laying low in South America after the war who is haunted by the ghost of Hitler and his Army of demons. From the beginning right down to it’s head-scratcher of an ending it is truly fascinating. It is grizzly, but not gruesome. Plus, it’s easy enough to cheer on Nazi on Nazi action. Read on...
Review: 6 Sick Hipsters by Rayo Casablanca
I remember last summer’s article in Time Out New York that offered up the following thesis: Why the Hipster Must Die - a modest proposal to save New York Cool (May - June ‘07, Christian Lorentzen). It seems debut novelist and confused wordsmith Rayo Casablanca took this idea to heart, or missed the point entirely depending how you look at it. His new novel, “6 Sick Hipsters”, is an attempt at intellectualizing the nomads of Williamsburg who voluntarily go by that moniker, a futile effort to say the least. Perhaps, for a fleeting moment, Mr. Casablanca forgot how passé it is to call oneself a hipster, but alas, let’s try and get to the meat of his novel.
Primarily it is the story of a boy and a girl who find themselves in extraordinarily gory circumstances. Our hero, scientist/porn aficionado and author Harrison, spends his time cavorting around Billyburg with his equally fame-obsessed gang of pals, the self-titled Whole Sick Crew. It’s hard to tell what has brought this motley bunch together, but to spend too much time wondering would keep you from ever making it more than 10 pages into the book. In any event, some of his cohorts start drawing connecting the dots between prominent hipster murders. For some reason, Harrison falls in love with Beth-Ann, a knitter on the verge of blindness who indulges his friends’ detective work. Read on...
Review: Iron Man
“I’m working on something big.”
The last thing you’d think the world needs is another comic book movie franchise, and yet Jon Favreau’s Iron Man breathes fresh air into an otherwise stale summer blockbuster season. It has all the staples of a big summer hit (star power; grade A special effects; built in rock anthem) but it does feel, even if only in the tiniest way, that something like the comic book genre in large part has been rethought, and not a moment too soon.
The summer of 2007, the most successful on record, was riddled with sequels that helped solidify the studios’ ridiculous haul to the bank. The powers that be knew there would be only one way to come close to making ludicrous amounts of money this summer with nary a threequel in sight: go back to the drawing board and start up great new franchises. Iron Man is the first taste we have of this new season of grass-roots heroism, and it is a scorcher of a first look. Read on...
Tribeca 2008: Confessionsofa Ex-Doofus-ItchyFooted Mutha
“I make films like I make food: if you don’t like it, I’ll just be eating it all week for leftovers.”
-Melvin Van Peebles, after the premiere of his 2008 film “Confessionsofa Ex-Doofus Itchy-Footed Mutha”
Perhaps it was because I was sitting in a university auditorium that I was suddenly rocketed back to my film school days while watching the latest film “of” Melvin Van Peebles. Back then, I would have been sniggering through my fingers as the raucous movie veered out of control around every single corner, and when it was all over and the lights went up, I would have over-analyzed the shit out of it and blatantly made fun of my colleague in class.
On its surface, “Confessionsofa Ex-Doofus-Itchyfooted Mutha” resembles the worst of student film stereotypes, replete with sex, knives, confused editing techniques, and above all, a message that it so convoluted and overdone that it has gotten lost among the screen-pollution you witness while watching it. That being said, I’m trying to figure out just why I loved this film. Read on...
Unearthed Screenplay: The Courtship of Rivkah Klein, Sept. ‘05
Ahhh, how come I never could finish this screenplay? Tell me what you think of the start.
INT. DANIEL'S APARTMENT - DAWNRIVKAH, 20, is lying naked under the covers, fast asleep.
DANIEL, 28, is fully dressed, quietly putting his shoes
on, sitting at the foot of the bed.
Read on...no comments for now | read on
