The Unusual Suspects

I promise I'll eventually get back to writing "stuff" as opposed to just posting "stuff", but the following video is hilarious---except for the part about a dead, missing girl. (ahem)

Lest we forget...

The only freedom which deserves the name is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to obtain it. Each is the proper guardian of his own health, whether bodily, or mental or spiritual. Mankind are greater gainers by suffering each other to live as seems good to themselves, than by compelling each to live as seems good to the rest.

John Stuart Mill, On Liberty, 1859

If it's good enough for Andrew Sullivan...

...it's good enough for me. This is simply beautiful and mesmerizing. Enjoy.

History.

The trip to Washington last week to bear witness to the historic inauguration of President Obama was in many ways exactly what I expected it to be. I expected crowds, and there were crowds aplenty. I expected getting around the city to be difficult, and it turned out to be even more so than I'd anticipated. I expected it to be cold, and it ended up being arctic-like. But I also expected it to be emotionally significant...and although it was, it was for different reasons than I imagined. While the transfer of power from Bush to Obama was meaningful to me because of the failed policies and embarrassing style of governance that dominated the last eight years, there was little doubt in my mind that the most significant thing about Obama's inauguration was the color of his skin. It's always awkward to be a white man writing about the feelings of black people, but spending hours packed in shoulder to shoulder with people of all colors and all faiths certainly afforded me the chance to feel a little bit of what they were feeling.

Throughout my time in DC I continually encountered people who had traveled from afar just to be in the vicinity of history. I chatted briefly with one black couple from Texas who had gotten their tickets from Sen. John Cornryn's office. They assured me they hadn't voted for him, but they certainly guessed right that the conservative Senator's constituency would not inundate his office with ticket requests...and so it was that they, like me, came to be waiting in line on a cold Monday in January, waiting to pick up their own tickets to history. Whether it be in the countless number of decorative "flare" adorning clothing, the smiles that never faded no matter how brutal the temperatures got, or the tears that freely streamed from the eyes of those surrounding me, there was little doubt that this was about so much more than one unpopular leader being replaced by a new one.

President Obama spoke of the implausibility of his taking the oath of office when, just sixty years ago, his father would not even have been allowed to eat lunch in certain white restaurants. It truly is extraordinary. For all of America's flaws, and there are many, its ability to evolve, to learn and to adapt, sometimes in huge leaps and bounds, is what constantly renews my hope in a better tomorrow. The mistakes of the past are not destined to be the history of the future, but rather the lessons for the present, and the vision for tomorrow.

Here's a Flickr slide show of some of the photos I took. My favorite is the second photo in the stream---cold weather, large crowds, and bigger smiles. Also look for Catherine Keener, Dustin Hoffman, James Carville, David Gergen, Dick Durbin, Roland Burris, and Bob Jackson. And Morgan. Wretched Morgan ruined every photo by jumping into them. Grrr!

Movie #38: The Grand

Shot in a Christopher Guest-esque mockumentary style, The Grand aspires to be the poker version of Best in Show, but it ultimately fails to deliver a sufficient number of laughs. Although there's countless attempts at wacky and bizarre humor, director Zak Penn tries too hard to make the film something more than a straight comedy. It's probably revealing that I was moved about as much as I laughed---which wasn't often. A lot of the humor derives from improvisation and, while sometimes it works, too often it's just dull and redundant. This is why movies have scripts.

The resulting movie is one suffering from a split personality. In the same movie where poker scenes are meticulously constructed with surprising realism, you also have the famous movie director Werner Herzog playing a German poker player who needs to kill a living animal each day to maintain his edge. It's a combination of extreme fantasy and extreme realism which, in theory, would be a fascinating approach to film making. Except it's not. The Grand likely would have succeeded had it opted to be a true comedy, and perhaps even if it had decided to be a true poker drama, but the straddling of the line simply doesn't work, leaving much to be desired on both sides. Chris Parnell of Saturday Night Live proves to be the most successful character in this odd blend, believably playing a math nerd who lives at home with his mother and who looks to Frank Herbert's Dune novels for inspiration. His character alone saves the movie from utter boredom.

Grade: 4/10

Movie #37: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian

I am woefully behind in these movie reviews, so I'll make this one a quickie---which will stand in stark contrast to the 2 hour and 29 minute run time of this, the second movie in the Narnia series. Having never read any of the C.S. Lewis books, and having only barely paid attention to the first Narnia movie (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe), I had little to no expectations for this expensive, special effects-laden sequel. In fact, given my usual disdain for fantasy-themed movies, it's somewhat surprising I even watched it at all. But when the Pirate® gives me something to watch, inevitably it gets watched. In the case of Prince Caspian, I lucked out.

It's a bit long and repetitive, and the character of Prince Caspian is a bad accent-heavy pretty boy I wanted to run through with my own sword, but this is a well-made action film with special effects that seamlessly integrate themselves so as to create a genuine belief that what we see on screen is what was really being filmed. And what we see on screen is amazing. It's arguably another milestone for the special effects field. Peter Dinklage steals the show as a misanthropic dwarf and Eddie Izzard, miscast as the voice of a stiletto-wielding mouse, is a voice I never tire of---no matter how out-of-place it may be here.

The religious overtones are extremely obvious in the final act and, to be honest, did bother me. The role of Aslan the Lion, creepily voiced by Lian Neeson, is a perfect illustration for why I don't have a strong connection to organized religion. Aslan would never be the God I would willingly worship. He is arrogant, vengeful, and noticeably absent when he's most needed. But, you know, he's a lion. So what do you expect? Anyhoo, religious issues excepted, Prince Caspian is a lot of fun...and it has children being extremely violent and killing lots of people. I like that sort of thing.

Grade: 7/10

The Stunning Number of 11th Hour Bush Pardons

Zero.

Say what you will about Obama's predecessor---and there's much one can say---but George W. Bush exited office with a bit more class than Bill Clinton did, who famously pardoned 140 people on his last day in the Oval Office...many of which were controversial (to say the least). It's not that the power to pardon people is an inherently bad one, but it is one which should be used cautiously and judiciously, and it certainly should never be used to repay political favors or reward those who have access to the President (I'm talking to you, Bill). In his eight years in office, Bush issued 189 pardons and commuted 11 sentences, easily one of the most conservative displays of this presidential power in the modern era. Clinton, by comparison, issued a total of 456 pardons/commutations, and Reagan just over 400.

The cynic might argue that the low number of pardons issued by Bush is simply another indication of his lazy approach to governing---too disengaged to take on the important task of reviewing the many petitions for clemency that cross his desk. This may be true, but unlike the presidents that came before him, little to no serious controversy has been generated by the pardons he did issue over his eight years in office. More significantly, there was no pardon for Scooter Libby (though he did commute his sentence earlier). There was no preemptive pardon to protect Alberto Gonzalez. There were no pardons issued to protect anyone on his staff---past or present.

Critics of Bush have plenty of grist for the mill, and his legacy will no doubt be one of the least attractive for any president in our history, but it's still important to separate his good deeds from his bad ones, and his use of the presidential pardon---particularly his avoidance of 11th hour pardons which tend to get less public scrutiny---is a model for future presidents.

An Obama Ransom Note

I'll have a full report on the Washington trip once I've had a chance to decompress, digest the enormity of what took place and, most importantly, catch up on Lost. In the meantime, here's the visual round we created for the trivia night we hosted a week ago. There are 20 letters which spell out "President Barack Obama." Each letter is the first letter of a movie, and the letter is taken directly from the movie's iconic poster. See how many movies you can identify and I'll post the answers in the comment section.

Twittering the DC Trip

I'm no fan of Twitter, what with it's all-too-abbreviated and all-too-meaningless moment-to-moment updates of what people are doing, but since I'll be standing for about 10 hours in the cold on Tuesday, I think I'd like to share some of my meaningless moment-to-moment updates with you. You'll notice on the sidebar the inclusion of a "live Twitter updates" section. I'll be using my mobile to frequently update this section, so check back frequently over the next few days to hear me whine about how crowded and cold it is in under 140 characters per Tweet.

Independently Verifying Obama as President

Because I'm still skeptical that America has displaced the two-term disaster that was George W. Bush, and because I'm skeptical that we've somehow managed to elect an intellectual wonk to the highest office in the land, and because that intellectual wonk also happens to be a black man, I've decided to go to Washington to view this supposed inauguration first-hand. I can't help but think this is a giant ruse, something on the level of faking a moon landing, or perhaps a $60 billion Ponzi scheme. I also haven't seen Karl Rove recently, and that scares me. I won't quite believe this change-of-power thing is true unless I see it with my own two eyes---in person.

And so, with a motley group of less skeptical observers, I will take to the nation's capital tomorrow to view the swearing in of our nation's 44th President. If this proves to not be a hoax, and I think it could go either way to be honest, it will likely prove to be the greatest, coldest, most wonderfully annoying day of my life. Fortunately, thanks to my boss, a Lincoln scholar who is making the national TV news rounds this weekend (FOX, CBS, and ABC), I was able to procure an actual ticket from Sen. Dick Durbin's office---one of the coveted 240,000 tickets available for the event.

It'll likely be a standing-room-only ticket, but still, at least I won't be standing with the unticketed riffraff behind me in the National Mall. Those people won't be close enough to see the stage and verify the truth of what's going on. Oh, sure, they'll have jumbo TV screens purporting to televise the on-stage activities, but I think we've all seen Rising Sun with Wesley Snipes and Sean Connery enough to know that images can be easily faked. If they can doctor footage of a man raping and murdering a woman, surely they can doctor the image of a black man taking the oath of office (and that was with technology 15 years older than now!).

In an effort to minimize the number of people who would be able to verify the authenticity of this event, the Republicans have slowly been lowering the national thermostat prior to the big day. At first it was going to be 38 degrees and sunny and almost 4 million people were expected to attend. Now it's expected to be 30 degrees and cloudy and crowd estimates are down to 2 million people. If the temperature becomes "dangerous", they might have to move the ceremony inside...so that nobody will ever know the truth about January 20th. I fully expect it to be a blizzard on Tuesday, but this trusty observer will still be there, standing (endlessly)...and watching.

I know about 30 people who will be in DC for the event, but if you should also happen to be there between Sunday and Wednesday, please do let me know. Cell phones likely won't work (part of the conspiracy), but I expect text messages will still manage to get through every so often and I'd be happy to see you there.

Your wish is my command, my liege.

First official presidential portrait---also the first digital portrait. Somehow that seems symbolic.

Movie #36: Frost/Nixon

Some people get to say things like, "the book was better than the movie." I rarely read books that get adapted into films (though I regret to say I have read Angels and Demons and I suspect the movie will suck as much as the book), but I do get to say things like, "the play was better than the movie." In the case of Frost/Nixon, considered a likely candidate for Best Picture, the play was better than the movie---though only barely. Last April I had the pleasure of seeing the stage version of Frost/Nixon at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre on Broadway and, although I had to explain to my date who Richard Nixon was, I came away feeling I'd seen something special. Interesting side note---my date knew that Watergate was a hotel, but didn't seem to know it was a scandal. That's a little bit like knowing that Hiroshima is a city in Japan, but not knowing we dropped the bomb on it.

Both Michael Sheen and Frank Langella reprise their stage roles for Ron Howard's theatrical version, and both make the transition reasonably well. Nixon's idiosyncrasies are so unique (and annoying) that it's sometimes hard to not want to judge Langella on his ability to impersonate, rather than embody Nixon. He does the latter better than the former, and the ability of a camera to capture an actor's subtlety helps more so than when performed for the stage. It's hard to create drama based on a series of conversations, but the stakes---repeatedly emphasized in faux interview cutaways to Frost's team of researchers (played well by Sam Rockwell and Oliver Platt)---give the interview sessions a sense of urgency.

That said, while Ron Howard does a good job of making the play "feel" like a movie as opposed to a filmed play, certain elements don't quite work as well as they should. One of the more compelling aspects of the story is how Frost essentially funded the whole concept on a wing and a prayer. Plenty of time is given to this aspect, but the desperation isn't as palpable in the movie as it was on the stage. Also, one of the major weaknesses of the play is repeated for the movie---a lengthy scene in which a drunk Nixon calls Frost one night in a soul-bearing exchange. It never happened. It's bad enough that the scene doesn't really work, but for it to occupy space in a compelling story almost entirely comprised of fact makes it really stand out as excessive and, perhaps, irresponsible. Frost/Nixon is a good film, but it's not Oscar-worthy.

Grade: 7/10

Movie #35: Horton Hears a Who!

With winter's grasp firmly suffocating what minimal ambitions I have to be productive, I seem to be unintentionally on my way to another 30 movies in 30 days. I have several movie reviews waiting to be written, and Horton Hears a Who! will be the first.

It wasn't but two movies ago in which I compared the comic stylings of Steve Carell to Jim Carrey, and sure enough we get to see the two of them at the same time in the big-screen version of Horton Hears a Who!, albeit just their voices. In the case of Carrey, tis far better to be heard than seen. While I no doubt read the story as a child, I have no memory of it whatsoever. I remember an elephant (Carrey) and that's about it. Imagine my surprise when the story turns out to have a strong existential and anti-authoritarian bent. Horton the elephant is entrusted with the care and protection of a mere speck--a speck upon which resides an entire community of people (the Whos from Whoville). Nobody can see them, but Horton alone---with his big elephantine ears---can hear them. Once the residents of Whoville begin hearing Horton's booming voice from beyond their heavens, he effectively becomes God.

Yes, the animation is outstanding, and yes there are several amusing jokes and well-voiced characters, but the story is the real star here. While the younger residents in Horton's realm are willing to believe in the possibility of life on that tiny speck, even though they can neither see nor hear it, the cynical adults view Horton's belief as a dangerous use of his imagination...one that threatens the stability of their insulated worldview. After all, if Horton's story is true, who's to say that we aren't just a speck being protected by a giant elephant. Perhaps our God has its own God? One can only hope that our God is as gentle in spirit as Horton. So far, I'm not convinced.

Carrey is acceptable as Horton the elephant, but only barely, and only because the character is so inherently lovable. He tries his best to overact yet again, which is damn near impossible for an animated talking elephant. Better is Carell as the Mayor of Whoville, who also struggles with widespread skepticism in his community when he reveals to his citizens the truth about their existence. I almost want to have kids just so I can read them this story and breed an open-minded malcontent. Almost.

Having seen this, Kung Fu Panda, and also rewatching WALL-E in the last two weeks, I once again assert that we are in the golden age of animated filmmaking. Relish it.

Grade: 8/10

Overheard in Atlantic City

Overheard through the air vent which, evidently, channels sound perfectly between adjoining bathrooms:

"Honey, is it normal to be shitting water? That's not normal, right? I mean, I'm shitting water."

Shrek the Musical: Making Your Kids Gay

Last night I saw Shrek the Musical at the Broadway Theatre, the latest in the line of Disney-inspired theater offerings, following on the heels of The Little Mermaid, Tarzan and others. After seeing it, the one thought I had above all others was that this is what right-wing homophobes are afraid of. Usually when insane "family values" groups like Focus on the Family are lamenting the decline of western civilization due to the encroachment of the "gay agenda" on family-safe venues, their complaints hold little to no merit. However, if they were to make the same accusation about Shrek the Musical, I think I'd probably think them less delusional---though I'd be equally indifferent to their suffering.

I can't be certain, but I'm pretty sure every character in Shrek was played gay. Donkey, Pinocchio, Lord Farquaad, the Big Bad Wolf, Peter Pan...gay. All of them. As gay as the night is black. Even the Gingerbread Man was fisted by the Sugar Plum Faerie. The only character besides Shrek that was clearly not gay was The Gnome...who professed to having an unhealthy stalker-like obsession with Ariel from The Little Mermaid. If you think I'm kidding, consider that the Big Bad Wolf admits to being a "cross-dressing, hot tranny mess." Hot tranny mess. It's actually in the script. And the Donkey, way gay, doesn't even hook up with the Dragon as he did in the movie. He simply befriends her, making the Dragon Disney's equivalent of a 'fag hag'. Now, I do realize that some of these elements were contained in the film version, but if I was the kind of person who saw a gay agenda everywhere I looked, this show would've made my eyes pop out.

As for whether it's any good, yeah, not too bad. A little gay, and the music isn't memorable, but it's one of the best-looking stage productions I've ever seen and the laughs are faeriely consistent. Get it? Faeriely consistent.