The Consequence of an Action

Step 15 to step 1: I walk out the door and trip over the carpet rug as I make my way out. I am nameless as I merge outside of this chaotic so so morning: cars, bicycles, smog, and tension -- my morning (or norming) routine, except for Sunday. I stay in. Reaching out, I open the door and quietly trip over the fold of the giant sized, textured outdoor mat and I am now footless. Shit. Cracked, the bottom window of the basement shatters into thirty or forty oddly shaped pieces. I turn around as the pieces of glass from the basement window begin to come together once again as a hole, and my foot returns to me, unharmed, enabling the opportunity that I may do something awe inspiring today.

I need coffee now, I work in Real Estate and see many properties throughout the day - they sometimes blur together. I've worked in this field for many years yet, once in awhile, I tend to get retrospective about my youth and wonder if I could have been a playwright or an exterminator, a sharp contrast I know, yet one has to think of extremes these days.

Walk forward, turn right to the Black Coffee Shop: the Black Coffee Co-op is one of the most simplified and unpretentious place purchase the routine 'wake up, SsssHhhhAaKKkke UuuuPPPP.' Sugarless, dairyless, and simple, oh yes, and fresh, did I mention fresh? The Co-op, exuding an air of barbarism, serves black coffee and old-fashioned donuts on a stick of recycled oak from the Humbe Abode Renovation Channel (they waste so much flippin' wood on that channel). The concept is simple; typical, enlightening, and refreshing, all for 50 cents a day.

The coffee burns me EVERYTIME, especially when I pour out the air from the empty sugar bowl standing alongside the dairyless cradle -- the habit is difficult to break. This, is a recent adjustment of course, only a couple of weeks and habits, my own included, tend to haunt and numb our mindfingers into an intelligible confusion. We live in exciting times . . . .

The world is now at peace; war has been phased out of our minds and a new uber millennium has begun. In fact, our new existence is surely something to look forward to. I hope they have the "New Existence is a Lie" blend tomorrow, it's got quite the nutty flavour to it.

I take a sip and the blend is different, a little nutty, something is amiss Mr. Shakespeare, someone has seriously fouled up my coffee; maybe the kid behind the counter is playing a sick joke. I am walking out with my indecent refreshment while I write this, dear reader, and I also manage, defiantly of course, to hold onto my favourite snack, the new Donut of 1001 souls. Throughout all the commotion, I quickly forget the minor discrepancy that occured at the Black Coffee and Single Donut Shop #3478.

My office, dear reader, is across the street from where I live, yet the path is never a straight line, and we no longer have cars (the car companies simply evaporated; more on that later, dear reader). Instead we are cushioned and cradled by directive electric fences and programmed to follow the 'buzz' through the history of our actions; someone of something decided that we could no longer be trusted. I am going to walk through the traffic and wish it all away, here I go.

Wait, an electric fence. I walk gently by it and feel the fraudulent friction of electricity pull me towards it, yet I refrain, my dream was never to associate with people who had been electrocuted. I've always dreamt . . . sorry, I don't want to divulge too much. OK, if you insist; the electric and the traffic were just simply fragments of my imaginations.

I keep walking to work, the same path I remember from yesterday, again and again, but nothing remains the same. People stare at me with accusatory eyes and pouting lips and I suddenly feel lighter, walking through the clear, smoggy crispness of our decayed day in this bend of civilization. The sky repels our affirmation that, yes, we have evolved, not out of the ashes like The Phoenix, but the dirt.

I'm joking of course. I am seriously trying to be deep, torn and misunderstood. I just though of it and wished it at the same time; I'm not psychic, prophetic, or clairvoyant, I just made a wish. That's why, dear (insert name here), my face gallantly slipped off of the edges of my skull today. I knew that no one would notice and that,
is freedom. No one ever stopped or noticed. I really hope I can make it to work today. It is truly amazing how our limbs cross paths every single day and we never truly acknowledge them for their importance. Oh well, maybe that is a little too philosophical or cliched. Sorry I did what I said I would never do, and now I'm told that I have to disappear completely. Step 1 to Step 15: so many new steps.

The Girl Next Door - Gregory Wilson

There are films we see sometimes that defy our pride as humans because to understand it would mean that humanity is the cruelest of beasts. "The Girl Next Door" is not a film that deserves multiple viewings but should be seen at least once; the subject is hard to stomach and the acting is done so well, that one could literally feel ashamed by sitting through it. The viewer becomes a witness to cruelty, yet the cruelty is not exploitative nor is it over the top, it is simple and real. Often I find that the implication is worse than seeing the cruelty in its entirety, one can only imagine what the person is going through yet our minds do the rest.

Although the film is based on a real occurence that took place during the 1950s, the film, I argue, is symbolic of the mysterious and secretive cultural expectation that was prominent during this new era of suburbia and closed doors. Although I have not read Jack Ketchum's book, I feel the film stands on its own because of the care and sensitivity that was taken to make it.

Watching the "making of" featurette was enlightening to say the least because many of the actors in the film were children and, considering the subject matter, great care and sensitivity was taken to make sure that the actors were comfortable with the material, and Wilson appears to have approached the script with great sensitivity.

The characters of Ruth and Meg, played by Blanche Baker and Blythe Auffarth respectively, were consistently opposites in both character and motive and that certainly embellished the immense tension that would evolve into the final outcome. It is nice to see a film that can remain sensitive to the subject of abuse without showing any signs of exploitation. On a human level, this film certainly educates us on the cruelties that take place when the doors are closed.

Pan's Labyrinth - Guillermo del Toro

Fantasy movies often get a bad reputation for being too weird and ambiguous for the average viewer and many an audience refuse to open themselves up to what is behind the door. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy did an excellent job in bringing those viewers to the theater and fantasy films became popular again. My question is however: Are Fantasy films looked upon with any deeper level of seriousness today because of the LOTR films or are they still just sitting in the corner like an alienated little creature? Considering the level of stale product that has been popping out of Hollywood recently, Fantasy/Horror films may have a chance to reach a larger audience and be respected by them, and I believe that del Toro is the one to do it. This man has talent and knows how to tell a story, The Devil's Backbone was a clear indication of that: the pacing was well-timed, the viewer had to do part of the work in deciphering what was going on, and the viewer had to deal with what they found at the end. Similarly in Pan's Labyrinth, everytime is timed so that the audience can become part of the movie, this beautiful pacing enables the viewer to get closer to the characters -- it is amazing. Del Toro also reminds us of how dark certain stories can become when they are contrasted with real events that were, in themselves, very dark on a historical level. Also, we are brought back to the days in which Fairtytales and stories were not usurped by the jovial and arrogant little mouse and turned into mountains of fluffy fluff fluff; these stories taught morals and lessons for children, and children paid attention because they could not be as easily dismissed as they are today. This is definitely not a film for young children, but young adults may get a kick out of it and it could, hopefully, provoke some fruitful discussion with a parent or guardian.

Emmanuelle and the Last Cannibals - Joe D'Amato

Why do people watch exploitation films? This is a question I've asked myself countless times. For me, it falls down to watching an hour and a half of what would traditionally be filler material for that scene in which you either want to throw up or are so shocked that you can't sleep for the rest of the night. I am starting to realize that this type of film is getting very old, yet the exploitation films now pale in comparison to those made during the seventies -- it seemed that the 70s were a period of decadence and no limitations and that was, perhaps, a reflection of the times, especially in the United States. This film is a clear example of the exploitative nature that fits in so tightly during this decade(and no, I am not being literal here!). This feature was derived from an already existing convention found in the relatively softcore Emmanuelle films, that of a character who searches for the greatest sexual pleasure around the globe and I remember seeing the first two films in the series and getting increasingly bored as the sequels progressed. I wonder if the Rochelle Rochelle ("A Woman's Journey from Milan to Minsk") piece in Seinfield was inspired by the Emmanuelle series. These films, however, were soon divided into two separate categories: the softcore remained and the films continued on in name only (they didn't really address the sexual philosophies of the first few anymore) or the name became an a vehicle for ridiculous exploitation and henceforth, Joe D'Amato and Laura Gemser (also known as Black Emmanuelle) grabbed onto the helms of bad taste and gave it a go. D'Amato had a reputation for greed and would essentially do anything, I mean anything, to make a quick buck, including breaking every film director mantra as often as possible. This story is self-explanatory in all senses of the word so there is no need to break it down. This film is cheap, racist, sexist, and breaks every taboo that one can imagine, yet there is obviously an audience for these 'classics,' it's just a shame that the early Emmanuelle series of films could be turned into such drivel and be associated with such tripe. In defence of D'Amato, however, he did produce a small number of classics (Buio Omega comes to mind) during his lifetime yet will always remain the exploiter in many people's eyes, and I think that is easily justified.

The Decline of the American Empire (Le declin de l'empire americain) - Denys Arcand

I often find it a welcome enjoyment to watch a non-English film in its original language without the need of subtitles (I am pretty good with Parisian French, but Quebecois is what I am used to), somehow it's different, and I know that I am stating the obvious, but the experience becomes something else entirely. Language is the link between culture and experience, both of which we often take for granted. Watching this film brought me back to so many youthful moments with my family, and no they are not intellectuals and I kinda like it that way. The awkwardness found in discussions about love and sex are pushed to the forefront, yet the viewer has to deal with it early, especially if one is uncomfortable talking about sex. Although the film has not aged very well (the 80s were an awkward period, weren't they?), yet the themes, the conflict, and the lack of resolution are consistently present. Arcand's film is about relationships, but the most powerful angles of these unions lie within the deceptions that seek to destroy this coven of friendship. The no-ties sex encounter is consistently contrasted with intellectualized discussions on love, marriage fidelity, and friendship and that becomes the lesson for us all in my opinion: How much can we collapse unions of love alongside unions of friendship? What is the price of such an act? It is truly amazing in how fragile humans are when relationships are questioned and trivialized and do we ever fully recover?

Babel - Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu

I really wanted to like this movie, sincerely, I yearned to like it. There are times in one's life when expectation vanishes in a web of despair, and this is one of those times. Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchette are superb actors, they can successfully weave themselves into other people's footprints and make it believable for the rest of us. The actors are not the problem with this film, the story and the narrative devices used to tell it are the culprits in this tale of global commerce gone awry, and that is just the beginning. The individual stories work well on their own yet are often filled with assumptions and stereotypes that are displayed as caricatures of this ever failing world. Yet where is the commentary? What are we supposed to take away from this movie? What are we listening to? I was intrigued by the Babel correlation and each story is successfull in displaying this link individually, yet the story falls apart when any attempt is made to link them because the pace of the movie does allot time for the stories to find each other. Although I strongly favour the Japanese narrative over the others, the subject matter of the entire picture left me feeling nothing, and that disappoints me greatly.

Snakes on a Plane - David R. Ellis

I have been waiting for a movie like this for a very long time, one that does not take itself too seriously nor does it create conjecture or provoke thought, it is just a simple B-movie. Not only was the ad campaign ingenious, it was also an homage to the less than stellar films of the 60s and 70s, those you shook your head at, yet could not look away. The premise is simple, illogical, and severely lacks continuity in a few scenes, but who really cares? This movie is pure enjoyment from start to finish, and what I most admire about Snakes on A Plane is that it is what it is, it was promoted the proper way, you knew what was going to happen, and didn't expect anything else.

Without Samuel L. Jackson, this movie would have been a straight to video release, and would have been lost in the annals of "Hey, this movie looks stupid! Let's rent it" category. Kudos to Jackson for not giving a shit about his star power and his spot on the A-list (is he on the A-list?, he damn well better be!), he obviously did it for fun. Not only is Samuel L. Jackson one of the most underrated actors working today, he is also one of the best; the sign of a great actor is the chances (s)he takes, and Jackson took one, and it fucking paid off! Who would have ever thought that a movie about snakes on a plane would be the #1 movie here in Canada right now. Leave your expectations at the door, and just enjoy the ride.