Quick Update

I'm successfully distracting myself these days by working...a lot. I'm plowing through last week's DVDs and seeing a shitload of other random films (not for the worse...Aguirre, The Wrath of God blew my mind by breakfast). Anyway, this is just a means of explaining why you'll be seeing the kinds of stuff you'll be seeing...again. I just watched Eyes Wide Shut and sped through the special features, so I'll have something about that in the next day or so (I'm aiming for an every-other-day thing here, so Thursday, then Saturday, etc). I promise they'll be shorter.

Meanwhile, Edward Copeland joins the ranks that think Wes Anderson needs to get Owen Wilson back to writing with him so he can stop being so stale, and makes the case in far less words than I did. I have a long way to go.

My Life in Anamorphic Widescreen: Days of Heaven

For the past week or so I’ve had this quote up from P.T. Anderson’s upcoming film There Will Be Blood as my away message.

“I want to earn enough money I can…get away from everyone.”

That last bit has been running through my head all week. There are many, MANY reasons for that, as it has been a bit of a week and during such times there are moments when you just want to escape from everything in the world.

Plus I was watching and reading about this movie. A lot. Like all of Terrence Malick’s films, Days of Heaven is so rooted in the beauty of nature and how wonderful it can be to be free of the city and feel the open breeze and see the sun for every second it’s over the horizon. But I have to leave the apartment sometime, and once again I’m forced to fight for a spot on the subway before the doors close and have to accept that that smell just will not go away.

And I’m not a man who hates on the city. Generally, I love city life and all of the conveniences that come with it. But I do feel trapped much of the time, and films like Days of Heaven give me hope.



There are days when I believe with every conviction in the world that Terrence Malick is the greatest director who ever lived, and that Days of Heaven is the greatest film ever made. At the very least, his four films mean more to me personally than the complete works of any other director. Not only do they touch me deeply and express the beauty of nature so wonderfully (it’s telling that when I went to see The New World almost two years ago, it was the New Yorkers in the group that hated it), those films have impressed on me much of my love for America.

I think of the small-town life and the open desert in Badlands, the portrait of the migrant worker in the open wheat fields in Days of Heaven, the soldiers wrestling with sacrifice for country in The Thin Red Line, and of course the foundation of the ideal in The New World. I’d held a fascination with the first few years at Jamestown years before The New World, and that film only reaffirmed everything I loved learning about that area, but it was Badlands and especially Days of Heaven that built my love for the Midwest, perhaps the most detested area of the country for most East Coasters. For so many of them, anyone living east of California and west of Virginia has the mind of a child, but I’ve always loved the time I’ve spent in the Midwest. It’s not just the overused “simple folk” bit (although there is something calming to it), but I love looking out the window and not being able to see a trace of civilization.

It’s rare that I feel unqualified to write about a film. It’s not that I’m some well-read scholar of film, because I’m clearly not. But usually I can find a way to express something about a film, particularly the ones I’m in love with. But somehow it’s different with Malick. The New World was, hands down, my favorite film of 2005, and one of my favorites in general, but I never wrote a review of it. How could you? How could you of any of them?

Days of Heaven, like all of Malick’s films, is poetry. There’s almost nothing concrete to critique. Oh, sure, people of tried, arguing that his stories suffer while his imagery is what carries us, but that’s a load. Malick is an extraordinarily underappreciated writer. But what throws people is that the emotions in Days of Heaven (as becomes common for Malick) are not rooted in the present. They’re a memory. There are moments, fleeting moments (and Malick’s a smart enough filmmaker to know that it’s the moments, not the dialogue or even the plot in many cases, that we remember from films) between Bill and Abby that are as sweeping and beautiful and heartbreaking as the wheat in the breeze or wind across the water or those famous locust shots. And those moments are earned because the characters are so beautifully crafted in spite of (and sometimes because of) their limited dialogue. On the commentary track for this Criterion edition, Malick’s collaborators note that he seems to be on his way to someday making a film without dialogue. And while that would indeed be a treat (any Malick film is a treat), it’d be a partial tragedy. The man writes incredible dialogue crafted for the ear, not the eye.



I couldn’t call the film poetry without its visual component though. As lovely as the dialogue is, Linda’s artful telling of the apocalypse…I was going to say it was aided terrifically by the visuals of migrant workers climbing off the train, then I wondered if it was the narration that aided the visuals, but really, one would not be complete without the other. And that’s how well this film works. It’s a totally free form picture, pure impressionism, but the craft, the construction, of it is so exquisite you’d swear it was as specifically constructed as a Stanley Kubrick picture.

This wasn’t the first Terrence Malick film I saw; it was actually the last. I saw it a little over a year ago, in the spring or summer of 2006. I didn’t respond to it as quickly as I did the others. Part of that came from my limited ability to appreciate Richard Gere’s work in the film (I didn’t care much for the guy at the time, and to my own discredit I couldn’t get past that). But over time it just stayed with me. I would continually return mentally and emotionally to those moments, and the intense abandonment Bill experiences. And Linda’s wonderful narration (which…Linda Manz might be one of the most influential writers nobody ever credits – she came up with all of her narration on the spot in the recording studio, based solely off small prompts).

Watching it again was like watching it for the very first time. I’d forgotten enough of it to appreciate its surprises and its stunning, stunning visuals. I was absolutely swept away in its beauty and grace and I cannot put it out of my head – I watch other films (and I watch a LOT of films every week), but still Days of Heaven just keeps coming back to me. And it’s the kind of film you want coming back to you. It’s the kind of film you can let yourself be enveloped in and make it a part of you. In its spare 95-minute running time, this is a film that feels longer; not because it drags, but because it’s so fully-realized, and so lived in, and the kind of place you’re glad to spend a piece of your life in.



VIDEO QUALITY

I nearly wet myself when I thought of Criterion creating a new transfer of a Terrence Malick film (I’m a nerd!). He’s a famously visual director, and Criterion does superb transfers for all their films (even Dazed and Confused, a film never noted for its cinematography, looks like it deserves an Oscar). This is actually the release that prompted me to pony up for the widescreen TV long before I should have. Well, surprise surprise, I wasn’t disappointed. In fact, it’s better than I could’ve dreamed (those screencaps above don't even begin to do it justice). This is my new reference disc whenever the time comes to upgrade to a new TV, or even test out a new DVD player. Or just to show off my system (every film lover has a stack of these). The highest compliment I can pay it is that it just looks so natural.

10 out of 10

AUDIO QUALITY

Unfortunately, as of this moment, we’ve yet to upgrade to a surround-sound system at headquarters, so I’ll refrain from commenting.

SPECIAL FEATURES

I can’t imagine producing special features for a Terrence Malick film. The man makes sure every contract he signs now has a clause that allows him to not talk about the film at all. He makes a film and disappears (for twenty years, in the case of the gap between Days of Heaven and The Thin Red Line). So even though he was involved in the production of this disc, you will not hear or read a word from him. But even without that, Criterion grabbed editor Billy Weber and art director Jack Fisk (both of whom worked on every one of Malick’s films), along with costume designer Patricia Norris and casting director Dianne Crittenden. Weber, Fisk, and Norris were all recorded together, and it’s pretty great to hear them tell stories of Malick’s work style (and ethic!) and how they were able to pull off different effects (I hesitate to use that word, because that makes it sound like CGI, but all of the effects were done right there, on the spot). Weber and Fisk especially have a lot to add, with the experiences of The Thin Red Line and The New World behind them as well.

Beyond that, there are two great interviews with Richard Gere (recorded specifically for this release) and Sam Shepard (from 2002). They both have differing views on Malick’s style with actors, but each contribute really amazing ideas about the film’s narrative and craft.

There’s a section dedicated to the amazing camerawork, featuring interviews with John Bailey, one of the camera operators, and Haskell Wexler, the guy who took over for cinematographer Nestor Almendros when he had to bolt to work with Truffaut in France. This is a much more technical discussion, but I know next to nothing about the workings of a film camera, and I still got a lot out of it.

There’s also a 40-page booklet with an essay from critic Adrian Martin and an excerpt from cinematographer Nestor Almendros’ autobiography (if you thought the Bailey and Wesler were technical…). Both are great, and I always appreciate the inclusion of these booklets in Criterion sets (and I love getting them new – you can smell the ink when you crack them open), but there’s been so much written about Days of Heaven over the past thirty years, I would’ve liked to see more critical analysis.

9.5 out of 10

CONCLUSION

Have I mentioned how much I love this film? For those of you who enjoyed recent films like Into the Wild and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, here’s where they got much of their inspiration (I disagree with comparisons between those films and Malick’s, though, but only because Malick succeeds on this whole other, enormous level that those films are wise not to aim for; still, inspiration is clear). This is filmmaking of the highest degree, and truly one of the finest motion pictures ever crafted.

Delay

Well, by now you've either heard the news or you haven't. For my part, it hasn't really hit me yet...It's all extremely surreal. But my thoughts and prayers are with everyone who knew him, and if there's one good thing that can be said amidst this, it's that a lot of people share that distinct privilege.

In the meantime, "My Life in Anamorphic Widescreen" will be put off for a week, and I wouldn't expect much of anything to pop up here between then and now. God bless.

My Life in Anamorphic Widescreen: Prologue

Oh...I am pumped. Loyal readers may remember this extravagance, in which I went on and on about how I'll be needing a job to offset the monumental costs that would be put to me come October 23rd. Well, things have changed since then. I do not have a job, and have almost no hope of getting one in the next month or so. And I'll be buying yet another DVD tomorrow. Let's take a look at just how great tomorrow is.

Tuesday, October 23rd, 2007.















That's six classics, plus Eyes Wide Shut (and man, do I love Eyes Wide Shut). None of which, until tomorrow, have received proper DVD treatment (great transfer, special features, etc.). And actually, even after tomorrow, Barry Lyndon still won't have.

The rest of this week will be almost entirely built of reactions and recollections (including a piece on why Barry Lyndon deserves a proper release more than just about every film on this list) as I move through the biggest DVD day of the year, and so far of my life. If you at all enjoy reading me write about movies, this will be a very good time to read. If you don't, this week will bore you more than if I'd never posted at all

Largely, this will be me trying to write DVD reviews for the first time. It won't be quite the professional pieces I'll do for the upcoming venture (I have to plug this as much as possible; it really will be quite cool), but it's something I want to try my hand at and this will be maybe my only opportunity to try a whole new way of writing about DVDs.

But these are all films that mean a LOT to me (except for Breathless, which I've yet to see), and aside from the quick write-ups I did when the NW Film Center did its Kubrick Retrospective, I've never had the chance to really write about them. So beyond the pure, Christmas-esque joy I feel in anticipation of cracking those cases open for the first time, I'm excited as all hell to be forced to finally sit down and write about how the first time I saw A Clockwork Orange changed my life. Among other things.

So that's your introduction. By the time most of you read this, there'll almost certainly be many, many other thoughts clogging the blog, but I'll try to keep it as organized as possible.

And Hope That My Dreams Will Come True

Ten days without a post? TEN DAYS? What've I got to show for it? Nothing. Nothing!

Today was a really good day for me. There are some days when, y'know, whatever, you spend most of it just trying to get through. And coming off 5 hours of sleep and into 6 hours of class and 10 hours of campus, I was a little wary going into today (plus I forgot my Viso!). But, somehow, I tricked my Creative Writing class into thinking I can string together a series of words into sentences and sentences into mildly-compelling literature. No, really, we workshopped (Blogger says that's two words...that's bull) my short story today, and it really took. So that was a good booster. Then in Magazine Writing, I actually had some progress to show for a story I was pretty sure would equal my total failure in the course. Race Relations...still a pretty useless class, but I did bother to send the Prof an e-mail with my indignation at the idea that Americans should know where obscure Asian countries are on maps.

Seriously though, can you think of a more fundamentally useless skill? And yet, every year or so, there'll be some retard on the news going on about how Americans can't find Iraq on a map. In what situation could that information possibly come in handy? And how does knowing where a country is have jack to do with our foreign policy? I guess you have to worry about neighboring countries and all, but you still wouldn't have to find it on a map to know that. And really, of all the ways in which the American education system is failing, that's probably the least of our concerns.

Whew, okay. Becoming Zen with it nnnnnnnnnnnow.

Very little progress has been made in the Pop Playlist. I blame all of you.

So the new widescreen TV came on Wednesday. Broke it in with scenes from Lost in Translation, Rushmore, 300, Dazed and Confused, Armageddon, Casablanca, Wild Strawberries, concluding with the opening of Punch-Drunk Love. Then today I watched Network all the way through (God damn that's a great movie...somehow you manage to forget), followed by the opening of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. And tomorrow I'm gonna wake up and put on The New World. It's pretty much been cinematic ecstasy (well, that'll really come whenever I put on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which is sitting to my right at the moment, waiting to be played). It didn't take long, but in the last 24+ hours, any doubts I had about spending that money were totally erased. Especially with the new venture in the works...I'm not gonna blow my load on that right now, but you'll hear a LOT about it when it gets going.

I vastly (not vastly, but considerably) prefer The Beatles before Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, and when push comes to shove, even before Rubber Soul. Not to say they didn't do good work on that and beyond, but I find "All My Loving" and "I Want to Hold Your Hand" infinitely preferable to "Here Comes the Sun" or anything off Sgt. Pepper's. I'm not trying to be overly contrarian, it's just something I've realized more and more, and I think people's preference as regards The Beatles is a clear line in the sand that says most everything about a person's overall music taste.

Pushing Daisies is only three episodes into its first season and it's already my favorite thing on television. It's an hour-long, weekly fairy tale. The show does an excellent job of catching you up with vital information, so I highly, HIGHLY recommend watching it. You're life will feel a little bit better for it. Wednesdays, 8 PM, ABC.

Hey, Look, Pictures!

So at first I didn't take pictures. Then I did but couldn't find the cable to connect my dock to the comp. Then I found out my printer cable will work. Now here they are.

This is Kitchen. To the left of Fridge you can see Living Room, and on the other side of the wall behind Stove is Bathroom. To the right of my POV on the right hand picture is My Room.


Here's Bathroom!


Here's My Room. Pretty proud of that shelf. And that closet. Super happy with that.







Okay, The Cardboard. So I don't have shades, and I'm super-sensitive to light when I sleep. I had these huge cardboard boxes. I don't think my parents will approve, but it'll probably result in them buying me shades. Boo-ya.

Living Room, Couch and TV (just ordered Widescreen, pictures to follow). Notice the proliferation of chips and syrup (do not combine). There's a lot of light which makes it hard to watch TV before 6 PM. To the right of the upper photo is Ben's Room.





Here's Ben's Room. It's clean and has windows.



Here's Gray's Room. He has cool posters 'cause he worked at a movie theater last summer.




And that's my apartment. Now you know the layout so you can find a way to infiltrate it and destroy us.

On A Carousel

Hey, shoulda mentioned in the last post, I need help with the Pop Playlist. I don't nearly have the new music covered as well as I should, and while I could probably still come up with a kickass mix, it wouldn't be nearly as inclusive. So if you have any suggestions you think of at any time, feel free to comment on this or any other post, text me, IM me, whatever. Even if it's just a group or artist that must be represented. What's the definition of Pop? Ultimately, that'll be for me to judge, but Wikipedia tried its damnedest and to some extent succeeded -

"Pop music (or 'pop') is a subgenre of contemporary popular music that typically has a dance-along rhythm or beat, simple melodies, and a repeating structure. Pop song lyrics are often emotional, commonly relating to love, loss, emotion, or dancing."

"Pop music generally uses a simple, memorable melody and emphasizes the rhythm, often with syncopation, and stripped down to a basic riff or loop which repeats throughout much of the song. Pop songs usually have a verse and a chorus, each with different musical material, well as a bridge connecting them in many cases."

The only thing I would edit there is that it doesn't have to be contemporary or popular, necessarily. I bought a CD over the summer by a group called The Rubinoos, who performed one of my new favorite pop songs, "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend," and no one's heard of them (because they're otherwise mostly mediocre...still, fun group and fantastic song). But the rest you can take to heart. And if you don't contribute, you have less room to argue the results, so there's more incentive.

This will take some time.

Onto other subjects...being sick blows. I know I'm not saying anything everyone has said ever. But really, it does. I wanted to go the movies (the picture show, if you will) tonight, but my left ear is totally congested (can ears be congested? they're plugged, at any rate), never mind I'm blowing my nose several times an hour. Maybe tomorrow.

My parents are coming next weekend to see just how on Earth we three bums are getting by. Chaos will almost surely ensue.

Holy crap I never posted this (this is two hours later). Well done, ME.

I Should Have Known Better

Reading stories in Creative Writing can be really, really painful. Especially since the prof is banning us from genre fiction (the only kind I can hobble my way through) and trying to get us write about our feelings and stuff. It's not that I don't care...who am I kidding, I don't. Also, college kids (most people, for that matter) are really, really bad at writing genuinely soulful stuff. And believe you me, it's gonna be trouble when it's my turn at bat.

30 Rock season premiere Thursday at 8:30 on NBC. Funniest show on TV, I swear to God. I rewatched the first season in like five days as soon as it hit DVD. Cannot recommend it highly enough. I wrote a whole essay on why it's better than Studio 60 (sorry about that one), but it got overly-hateful...I really did enjoy Studio 60 more than I remember. Except the last four episodes. I disliked them exactly as much as I remember.

Pop music is the best kind of music there is. I love rock n' roll with a passion deep within me, but nothing tops great pop music. I'm creating a playlist of the best pop music ever. It's daunting, but really fun to listen to.

I cannot wait for tomorrow (Thursday) to be over. I'm supposed to go to this Office party (a party in which people watch The Office), but I don't think I'm gonna be able to stand up at that point. I should probably go to bed (it is, however, that hour in which, if I fall asleep now, I'll wake up more tired than if I put it off a half hour). I have absolutely nothing to do tomorrow (Thursday) besides go to class, so that's awesome. Bringing along The Rules of the Game, but will probably be too sleepy and be forced to write a bunch of nonsense to keep myself awake. I do have an article due Friday night now though, which is so lame I wanna spit.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford is, for me, as of this moment, the best film of 2007 so far. I thought it'd take There Will Be Blood, or at least No Country for Old Men to knock Zodiac out of the position it held all year, but Jesse James really is that amazing (those two films actually have a lot in common...besides just being ridiculously great). Full review coming very, very soon.

I've mentioned before to some people my love for dirty limericks. What I probably neglected to mention was my love for Irish toasts.

May neighbors respect you,
Trouble neglect you,
The angels protect you,
And heaven accept you.

Hmmmm...

When you're in class, and the professor is making an attempt to better learn the names of her students in a class of 45 by calling roll, and when she gets to your name and says "oh, so YOU'RE Scott Nye," that's a world of hurt right there. Bear in mind, this is a few opinion-based assignments in. So either she's hella-impressed with my reasoning and voice, or she takes great objection to my viewpoints and wonders who the hell could write such tripe. Either way, she gives a crap who I am and I don't care for that. I succeed much greater in classes I hate by remaining totally anonymous. Damn it all.