Random crud

Today is Fairuza Balk's birthday. Happy birthday to her!

Four of my blogger friends went to see the band DeVotcka and blogged about it. Must be a helluva band.

My co-workers got me a book called "The Big Book of Breasts" for my birthday. Hahahahaha!

Musings on aging

I have less than five more days of being "in my twenties". The big 3-oh is imminent!

I am not nervous or freaked. I'm rather happy. I already affiliate myself with an older age group. Over the last year when people have asked my age I've replied "I'm almost 30" because replying with "29" sounds like a lie. My best friend refers to me as "The Old Bag Whisperer" thanks to my job and my uncanny ability to coddle and placate the elderly. It's because I know how they think and that's scary! I'm happy, though. This last year has been really great and I have only optimism for the future. This is strange because I was always negative and fatalistic in my "youth". It may attributed to my keen awareness of my own mortality. That sounds unpleasant, but it's really not. It's more of a real sense of carpe diem that I possess.

Work is boring. We have no shows on sale so I don't have to deal with old people (or young people), just the high-maintenance boss, and that's a job in and of itself. Tomorrow is my work birthday party (every staff member gets a potluck lunch and a gift on their birthday) so I'm excited about that.

Sorry, this is a rambling and ridiculous post. My work is just making me stir crazy so I've resorted to blogging!

Pretty colors

Last night Matt and I went to see Speed Racer in IMAX. My expectations were nil after reading so many crummy reviews, but I thought it would be a pretty way to spend two hours. We had spent all weekend house painting and doing chores, so we needed to sit on our bums and turn our brains off for two hours.

Speed Racer definitely a no-brainer. Heck, I'm not sure what it was about or if it was about anything at all. Car racing or something, I think. Who cares? It's beautiful. It's a big mash up of big bold bright shiny happy colors. No, I wasn't on drugs.

The film looks like the cinematic equivalent of a mating between the neon signs of Shinjuku and IKEA. It's a glorious feast of candy-colored sets and costumes. I was eating a Jelly Belly bubble gum flavored lollipop I felt as though I could taste the movie.

The plot is ridiculous (or, rather, non-existent). The actors are pretty and everyone looks terrific (I'm seriously considering getting a Christina Ricci Trixie 'do). It's technically quite an achievement, seamlessly integrating live action with enough CGI to melt your brain. There's car racing and the races are so confusing and cluttered that you can hardly tell what's what. There's one long race that's a bit boring and not that pretty but the one at the end is very pretty indeed.

And there's a poo-flinging chimpanzee. What more could you ask for?

Anyone who knows me is aware that I'm a huge movie buff with a wide range of tastes. Sometimes I want to delve into the dark psyche of man (There Will Be Blood) or sometimes I love the layers of meaning and subtext found in the works of Kubrick. But occasionally I want eye candy and nothing more. Speed Racer delivers two hours of exactly that, and it's a beautiful ride.

What sound does the doggie make?

Petting the dog

What about Bob?

In 1999 I must have watched director Todd Haynes' film Velvet Goldmine 20 or more times. I had seen it at the theatre while living in London and I was baffled. I didn't really know much about '70s glam rock at the time. Six months after initially watching the film, I was obsessively waiting for the VHS release back in the states. I bought it and played it over and over. I went out and bought all of the early Roxy Music albums and even tracked down the limited edition makeup that was produced (I still have the little bits of eye shadow in the worn cases). At this point I had seen Todd Haynes' Safe, his Sonic Youth video and even the elusive Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story. I thought they guy was cool, but he blew me away with Velvet Goldmine.

So fast-forward and he's released I'm Not There. I had only slight interest in seeing it cause it just seemed gimmicky and pretentious. I went through a big Bob Dylan phase about 8 years back and I was only mildly curious about the film despite the presence of two of my favorite actresses, Charlotte Gainsbourg and Michelle Williams.

On Monday Matt and I went shopping and he picked up the soundtrack to I'm Not There and showed it to me. After seeing so many artists I enjoy were featured, I bought it. Before I had even listened to one track, I decided that I must see the movie right now. So to Blockbuster (or, rather, Coc#bloc#ers) we went cause my regular ghetto video store had rented all the copies out!

Todd Haynes really is incredible. I'm Not There is a really huge achievement. I had imagined that six actors playing these incarnations of Dylan would be confusing and distracting. Since I am familiar with Dylan and with so many facets of his career, it was a cinch to piece it together. My husband was a bit more lost. I think it's probably quite a stretch for those not in the know about Bob Dylan. It is indeed pretentious and gimmicky, yes, but it works. There's an essence of Dylan and his music that is captured better than any previous cinematic interpretation (see that crappy version Hayden Christensen did in the crappy film Factory Girl).

I'm Not There is a bit overly long, that's for sure (2 hrs and 15 min). However, there's something utterly unique and magical about the film. It has a great deal in common with Velvet Goldmine stylistically and emotionally. There's an artistic sensibility that's sorely lacking in the more mainstream, narrative driven biopics like Walk the Line, Ray, Talk To Me, Factory Girl, the list goes on and on. In recent years Bob's been whoring for Victoria's Secret and Cadillac, and my interest waned. This beautiful movie reminded me of all of the reasons why Bob is an artist, a poet, an icon and so many other things at once.

I have a feeling that in six months or so I'll be wanting to see this one again (and again). In the meantime, I had better go ahead and unwrap that soundtrack album.

Basketball Diaries

The Cure show last Friday was good. The band evidently only consists of one original member. Thank goodness it's Robert Smith (who looks a bit like a bloated shitzu from a distance, sorry Bob). He's in top form, if not physically the at least vocally. The band sounded terrific, they had a beautiful backdrop on which images of their old singles covers were projected. The lights were twinkly and pretty. They opened with a glorious "Plainsong".
The venue blew chimp. Hard.
It's a g.d. basketball court. The sound bounces like, well, basketballs. The sharp drums of songs like "Lullaby" hit the back of the room and hit your ears a good .25 seconds later for the second time. Thank goodness The Cure is heavy on reverb and distortion so some of the uglier acoustic elements were drowned out somewhat. Still, it will be a cold day in hell before I hit the George Mason Patriot Center again.
The Cure on a basketball court. Never thought I would live the day!
It was getting very late and they had played for nearly 2 hrs. Matt and I hit the road back to Hampton cause I had to get up and go to work the next morning. Turns out we missed three encores and another full hour of music! Matt is bummed that we missed "Boys Don't Cry". I can sleep a little better at night now having heard "Pictures of You" played live and played surprisingly, remarkably well. On a basketball court.
Work is boring. Utterly boring. We have no shows til July 19. I run the box office and nothing is on sale. I don't know what to do with myself! It's rather lovely but boring.