The Numbers For 2017

Year #5 without a drink. Thanks to all the friends, family, and strangers who helped along the way.

I went on 4 vacations(Harrisburg, NYC, Denver, New Orleans).

I did 48 shows with Deep Schwa.

I did 45 shows with Sight Unseen.

The Night Shift did 1 show.

I co-wrote and performed 1 sketch show 5 times.

I conceived and shot 20 interviews for a documentary tentatively titled Chiaroscuro.

I wrote 62 poems, 1 essay, and did 6 readings.

I watched 78 movies in the theater.

I read 68 books my favorite of which was The Antagonist by Lynn Coady.

I went to 1 concert(Willie Nelson).

I saw 1 of my heroes in the flesh(Chris Rock).

I went to 2 plays(Linda Vista, Doll's House Part 2).

I went to 2 weddings.

I went to 0 funerals.

I went to 2 Michelin starred restaurants.

I moved once.

I babysat my niece for the first time.

I learned and cooked 6 crock pot recipes.

I rode my motorcycle for 7 months. I changed the battery once.

Nicole and I celebrated our 4th Anniversary.

I'm grateful for it all.

'I, Tonya' A Review

I, Tonya is a biopic about Olympic figure skater Tonya Harding- her childhood struggles, quick ascension, troubled marriage, and the 1994 attack on Nancy Kerrigan which, by her implication, ended Harding's career. The film has a relatively straightforward liner timeline punctuated by mockumentary style interviews(based on actual archival interviews) as well as periodic breaking of the fourth wall and voice over narration. The film follows Tonya as a little girl with her interests in hunting and mechanics juxtaposed with her passion and talent for skating. A tumultuous and abusive relationship with her mother also develops. As she gets older her ambition grows and she struggles to fulfill her dream- winning gold at the Olympics- battling an abusive husband, economic prejudice, and self-doubt.

Robbie as the titular Tonya gives the best performance of her career, certainly helps that it is the meatiest and she appears as a producer on the film. Robbie attacks the role with a frenetic energy that imbues the character with a truth and an authentic magnetic vitality that brought the real world athlete fame and then infamy. Sebastian Stan as the meek but abusive, controlling but milquetoast Gillooly also puts in a career high turn, again not because of lack of talent but of opportunity. The third big presence in the film and the big supporting role is Tonya's mother played by Allison Janney. In a year filled with great complicated mothers Janney may take a back seat to Metcaff in Lady Bird and McDormand in Three Billboards but in any other year this performance would be singularly compelling and horrifying. The film starts off with a dark but overtly comic tone but over the course of the run time these three are able to maintain the humor but also provide some incredibly compelling emotional dimension as well as do justice to this American Legend with a refreshing lack of judgement. The poverty and abuse that we see Tonya grow up in is played so casually(and truthfully) it hits hard and provides a context that the media and history have here-to-for not given Harding.

The cinematic flourishes like the occasion direct addresses don't always work and gradually fade out as the movie progresses but even so its refreshing that the attempt is made. In our current cinematic landscape there is a lot of sameness especially in editing and construction. And so the breaking of the fourth wall, the interviews, the narration in a way echo the vitality and rebellious spirit of its subject. Not always successful but unique.

Tonya Harding's involvement in what the film dubs "the incident" is mostly irrelevant in the context of the film. What I, Tonya does is it allows Tonya Harding- an American Olympian- to be seen as human for what is seemingly the first time. And the context and consideration the film provides is not only entertaining but is decidedly moving.

Don't Miss It.

Sound Thief

Winter
never comes as a surprise
but it is shocking
when the temp drops
steadily
from 40 to 30 to 20
and then
to 10
and then
to 1
and below
clothes stiffen
minds slow
breath burns in throats
lethargy spreads
and the world quiets
frozen
as if in anticipation
or perhaps
simple
silent
hibernation

Xmas 2017

Had a wonderful if hectic holiday. Nicole came back with me which was really nice and although my mom is still recovering from a broken ankle and princess Maris required, justly and joyously, some significant attention we all pitched in and had a nice celebration.

 Santa even showed up at one point!

 I cooked a bit more than I usually do which was nice to be able to do because over the past year I've really broadened my repitore of the various meals I can prepare. Nothing earth shattering or anything but some good mostly healthy dishes.

Maris was, of course, the star of the weekend. It's been incredible to watch her progress since she was born but especially over the past six months or so. She's talking, she's walking, she has an insatiable curiosity, it's really inspiring and at times exhausting. Provides me with a new found respect for parents, how much energy and focus and time a child requires. Big rewards, certainly, but a big cost. It was especially cool because I had babysat her last week and she remembered me which was very cool.

A nice holiday but a lot going on for various reasons. I may take some extra time off next year to just be able to appreciate it more, so it doesn't feel like such a whirl-wind. Either way lovely time with my loving family.

'Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle' A Review

Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle is a family fantasy adventure film more inspired by than a sequel to the 1995 original. The magic board game has transformed into a video game and after gather dust for twenty years four high schoolers(two nerds and two popular kids) with detention uncover it and get sucked in after selecting their avatars. Only by working together and winning the game will they be able to escape it.

The Rock is the defacto lead as nerd Spencer's avatar Dr. Bravestone, playing against type as a meek over thinking dork, is excellent but the four really anchor the film and make it feel like a true ensemble. Jack Black is hilarious with some surprising dimension as social media obsessed Bethany's avatar Prof. Osbourne. Kevin Hart is servicable as jock footballer Fridge's avatar Mouse Finbar but plays more in support of the other three. Karen Gillian is bookish Martha's avatar and is also able to mine laughs as well as a surprising amount of pathos given the relatively light and fast-paced story. The supporting cast are all good but none are given that much to do save the core four and that's fine, the four leads seem to relish and excel with the psuedo dual roles and action-comedy tone.

In a year of sequels and franchise installments and reboots Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle rises above not only because of its unabashed sense of play even exuberance but also because it gives only the slightest tip of the hat to the original. In the first 30 seconds of the film due diligence is done and context is provided, after that there are only a few pleasing but absolutely non-crucial references. This allows the story to live on its own and it is liberating, over the past year, hell recent years, nostalgia has been milked so frequently it is almost dry. The film realizes that and creates something incredibly refreshing if not exactly new.

Chock full of humor and adventure. A great balm to franchise fatigue. Hollywood take note.

See It.

Stop

On top of physical discomfort sickness eats up large slices of the clock.

I hope I'm not shackled much by time

but I do value activities, actions, and tasks accomplished.

So yesterday hobbled by a cold

I regretfully cancelled two standing appointments.

Unable to do much save endure I sat on the couch worrying over the things I was not doing.

I was in condition to nothing. Full stop.

As a free-wheeling, free-thinking, antonymous human being with much to do and write and see

it feels almost cosmically perverse

to be leveled by never-ending snot.

But I take my licks. Humbled by the common cold. Just another organism, no better or worse.

Floating, sneezing, labored breathing.

Waiting on incubation, white cell generation, and the methodical ticking of the clock.

Plans

Not to say every minute
must be structured
but it may prevent us
from becoming flustered

putting thought into a schedule
and establishing a routine
can protect from the contortions
of life's grinding machine

spontaneity might be nice
for those below a certain age
but adulthood has a price
and presents it's own type of cage

so you must fight against the clock
carve out time for desire and want
seize the chance to walk, weep, and talk
not all have the privilege of debutantes

'Star Wars: The Last Jedi' A Review

Star Wars: The Last Jedi is a space opera the 8th installment in the Star Wars series the second in the most recent trilogy. The film takes place directly after the events of Star Wars: The Force Awakens. It opens on a dogfight as the Resistance evacuates their base under fire from the First Order. As the Resistance under General Leia(Carrie Fisher) attempts to escape the First Order ships across the galaxy Rey(Daisy Ridley) begins her somewhat rocky training with the reluctant Luke(Mark Hamill).

More an ensemble piece than its predecessor the defacto lead Ridley does well, displaying more poise and conveying more dimension than before. She has great chemistry with Adam Driver(returning as Kylo Ren) and the two are able to investigate the emotional duality the series is famous for. Fisher's role grows in this installment and she meets and exceeds the challenge, as does Oscar Issac's Poe Dameron. The pair also have excellent chemistry and given time to develop it. The one character who recedes slightly in this installment is Finn, somewhat a disservice to the capable and compelling John Boyega but the character is seemingly set up for more in the trilogy conclusion. Hamill is a real stand out, bringing gravitas, regret, and pain to this incarnation of the legendary Skywalker, it's surprising, funny, and not necessarily what you want but feels true to the character and to the story.

The John Williams score is effective, more in keeping with the series rather than innovative but the editing takes the classic Star Wars wipe and tweaks it to great effect. There is not only split scenes between Rey and Kylo but almost every scene change is mapped over by some kind of mirrored visual or line of dialogue. The result is a gleeful, contagious momentum that propels the adventure ever forward. The third act is somewhat protracted but overall this installment delivers on the emotion and action for which the series is known, delivers twists and unexpected thrills, with service paid to fans and the previous entries but not hamstrung by them. The Force Awakens necessarily had to reset the franchise, this installment allows it to evolve.

See It.

Red Sauce

I use to hate marinera sauce
really red sauce of any type,
I'd eat my spaghetti-
plain
I'd order my moz stix-
straight up
I use to peel off the cheese,
scrape off as much sauce as I could,
 and slap the cheese back on there
(talkin bout za)
I'd spear meatballs
and flick the clinging sauce
back into the serving pot
I hated it.
God I really hated it.
Went to extravagent lengths to avoid it.
For Years.

The past two weeks
I've made a red sauce
in the crock pot
and it was good.

I've really changed.

It makes you think,
what will 2050 be like?

I also hated onions. Yuck.

Clarity Is Best

In improv the base tenant is 'Yes, And' and I have some pretty substantial ideas about how flawed that can be which I outlined in the improv online magazine The Hambook however this seems to be an issue more globally with peoples jobs, friendships, and family. Not that people are interpersonally yes-and-ing each other too much but that people in general seem to have issues with establishing boundaries, especially with friends/family/at work, acquiescing to commitments or circumstances that may in fact be presumptuous/imposing to our time or well being. The other aspect is clarity, of expectation and individual needs, in general people seem reticent to clearly communicate what's going on and what they want.

Over the past couple weeks there have been several examples of this in my life, directly and indirectly, people(myself included) being unclear about a situation, wants, needs, expectations, and the result is stress and resentment. The impulse to not set boundaries or not ask for what you need I think comes ultimately from fear(of upsetting someone, making a fuss, being perceived as being mean, demanding, alienating etc.) and this desire "not to be a bother" because we've somehow internalized this idea that actively taking care of ourselves is somehow self-serving, vain, that our wants and needs are secondary or unimportant perhaps even a burden to others.

The reality is that communicating with clarity is not only good its detrimental. We are conditioned to use vagaries and passive-aggression(as if that was effective) in the somewhat covert effort to avoid conflict(and undersell our own personal needs) when that's what communicating in that muddled inarticulate way inevitably evokes- resentment then eventual conflict. There's nothing inherently combative about saying no, about saying I'd rather not, I'm not interested, or this isn't a good time. Friends and loved ones will typically understand if you're up front and honest when they ask you to do something for/with them. It becomes messy when you acquiesce, equivocate, deny, deflect, defer, then eventually come back to the reality which is like "actually no I don't want to go to that party with you"(or whatever it may be). You've put yourself through the ringer, confused your friend, now you feel guilty because you weren't honest and direct from the jump.

The other part of it of course is you. You have to remember that you are important, what you want and need is important. Period. If you're not a relatively balanced and content individual how can you be a loving participant in your family, a supportive friend, or a competent employee. It's not only your right it's your obligation to establish and sustain, carve out and cultivate those things that you need day-to-day, week-to-week, month-to-month to feel good, to feel whole. Because only when you have some measure of mental/emotional/spiritual equilibrium can you really show up and be a fruitful family member/friend/employee what-have-you and in order to do that you have to occasionally set boundaries. You cannot make yourself available to the whim of the people around you, regardless of how much you love and care about them. I'm not suggesting you hoard your time and attention and only do what you want to do. What I am suggesting is be clear with people about what you will and won't do for/with them. If someone asks you for something or to do something and it's unclear to what extent you be committing yourself, ask for clarity. If someone is asking you to do something for/with them that feels to you like an imposition its OK to say no or respond with conditions.

You must consider your needs first. Not in regards to pleasure or ambition or comfort but to your mental and physical health. If you're exhausted or stressed out or overwhelmed how can you be of service to anyone?

'The Shape Of Water' A Review

The Shape Of Water is a fantasy/romance/creature-feature about Elisa(Sally Hawkins) a mute janitor at a government facility in the early 50's. While cleaning one of the labs in the facility Elisa and her friend Zelda(Octavia Spencer) witness the arrival of a new experiment/prisoner, a mysterious aquatic humanoid. After a bloody incident where Col. Strickland(Michael Shannon) gets two fingers bitten off Elisa gets some time alone with the creature and begins a casual friendship which slowly develops into a romance.

Hawkins gives a solid, unwavering, performance more inquisitive rather than emotional but still effecting. Spencer is as watchable as ever and provides some reality bonafides the film needs to avoid potential absurd pitfalls although should doesn't get much to really sink her teeth into. Richard Jenkins as Elisa's closeted friend and neighbor Giles plays it a bit big even for a film with a fish man but overall he's fine. Shannon is always compelling but he's not asked to do much we haven't already seen him do, although his arc in this film is more of a slow burn rather than his typical manic crescendos.

Visually the film is stunning, no surprise from del Toro, and although a tad shaky The Shape of Water is narratively on much firmer ground than his previous, 2015's Crimson Peak. Ultimately the film is a nostalgia piece, a throwback to golden age Hollywood musicals and love stories with some incredibly brazen and bizarre twists. There is nothing transcendent about the film, nothing terribly surprising, but it is fun and holds the interest and is beautiful to look at with one very good and very classic Michael-Shannon-recounting-a-bible-story monologue.

See It.

Listen

There's a tendency

to want to solve

the problem

to correct

suggest

advise

to try to

minimize

package

and plan

against

the chaos

that is

living

but

more often

than not

the best gift

is an open ear-

your opinion

means little,

your attention

does much.

Swears

There are no short cuts in comedy, no real rules or guarantees, but over the past couple years I've noticed a couple things that always seem to make people laugh. A couple buttons that seem to always burp out chuckles when pressed. One of those is curse words. Not using them but not using them.

When your a kid and you first discover curse words there's typically a brief(or extended depending) period of fixation when you use them all the time to the point where they become almost meaningless. There's a similar phase in improv not prompted by discovery I don't think but by panic and a misguided idea that cursing a lot on stage is funny and/or edgy. The reality is its tiresome unless used judiciously. Even then expletives aren't terribly effective comedy wise past a certain adolescent age or in rare perfectly timed circumstances.

The trick, that works an astonishing amount of the time, is not to say the curse word but use the letter(s) instead. "What the F do you think you're doing!?!?" "This is a bunch of S!" You get the idea. Typically most effective when playing an adolescent or a parent. Tonight during the Schwa show Jeannie and I were in a father-son scene and I kept using "GD" instead of "God Damn" and people responded. It's a weird little thing, almost feels like a cheat sometimes. But there's something about not saying it, something that's almost quaint about it, antiquated almost, kind of absurd, which tickles a lot of folks funny bone.

I kind of recognized the move watching Old School in college. At one point Vince Vaughn, the dad character, has his baby and Luke Wilson is cursing a bunch and Vaughn explodes "I don't know why you have to do it! With the F-in'!" And I thought it was so funny, and the frat guys on my floor thought it was so funny and quoted it all the time. The idea percolated until a couple years ago when it bubbled up during a scene where I used "F" a bunch instead of fuck and the audience really got a kick out of it.

I hope its not a crutch I rely on, I don't think I do it that often, but I definitely do it if the opportunity/circumstance presents itself. It's fun to do, the move provides kind of a short-hand to character, and people like it so, why not?

'The Disaster Artist' A Review

The Disaster Artist is a comedy based on the making of 'best worst movie' The Room. The film follows Greg(Dave Franco) an aspiring actor in San Francisco as he meets and befriends an odd and intense mysterious older(?) man Tommy Wiseau(James Franco, also director). The two move to Los Angeles and live off of Tommy's seemingly boundless(and nebulous) wealth as they attempt(and fail) to become working actors. After a disheartening two years Greg inspires Tommy to conceive and make his own movie.

Franco(James) gives his best performance since 2012's Spring Breakers, imbuing the character with a soulfulness, vulnerability, and dimension the real life Wiseau seemingly doesn't posses. Franco is totally immersed and plays it from the heart as well as being able to achieve a substantial amount of humor. Franco(Dave) is serviceable as the more milquetoast Greg. He brings his normal psuedo-adolesecent charm but doesn't do much beyond what he does in every film, play some version of himself(however likable). The rest of the cast is stacked with cameos and supporting turns by famous folks who all show up, are funny, and have fun. But the only real acting is done by Franco(James) and its impressive.

Visually the film is functional, almost utilitarian, which is fine because the film revolves around the comedy and Franco(James)'s performance. However one would hope for a bit more artistry and/or attention to framing given this isn't Franco's 13th directing venture(although you could argue this is the first legitimate project, certainly the only one so far with a substantial release). The score practical with some fun period songs but mostly all the production elements only serve to bolster the characters and the comedy.

Certainly more enjoyable than the unintentionally deplorable, boring, incoherent movie on which it's based, the film celebrates and realizes the Hollywood dream despite a mountain of eccentricities and no talent to speak of.

See It.

Consuming Content

There is pleasure
in entertainment
thrill and comfort
in distraction
but the TV
from its advent
has been addictive
the drone and glow
of the box
necessitating legions to
turn on, tune in, and drop out
now phones
give us the magic square
every where
and the risk
is to become
complacent
satiated
compliant
sleepwalk through
the jobs we tolerate
to be diverted
by the ever-growing mass
of prestige long-form television
we the memers
the 21st Century Lotus Eaters

'Coco' A Review

Coco is a computer animated family film, the latest from Pixar. The film follows 12 year old Miguel,
one of the youngest in a family whose original matriarch was abandoned for her husband's musician dreams and started a cobbling business, on Day of the Dead as he cultivates his passion for music in secrecy. After his grandmother discovers then destroys his homemade guitar Miguel goes to the tomb of famous troubadour Hector to borrow his guitar for the holiday talent show but when he touches it he finds himself in the Land of the Dead unable to return.

Visually the film is rich and striking, no surprise from Pixar, but there is a vibrantness from the neon color palette that is utilized which ups the vitality considerably. There is also the cultural imagery that is substantially more effecting say then the imaginative but neutral mindscape from Inside Out. There's a particularly inspired little scene with Frida Kahlo directing the performance piece at the beginning of a concert which is funny and kind of grotesquely beautiful. For a movie about music the soundtrack is very effective combining a moving score with some fun and touching diegetic performances.

All the voice performances are wonderful but the story is what they rest on and the story is one of Pixar's best in years. The plot itself is at times convoluted but the characters and the message of the film shine through in a way that make this one of the most human "family films" of the year. This to say nothing of how refreshing, inspiring, and engaging it is that the film, by its nature, focuses on and celebrates Mexico and Mexican culture.

Not only a great film but timely. Important not only for what it is but for what it means.

See It.

The overlong and borderline incoherent Frozen short at the beginning is unbelievably painful to sit through. Plan to arrive 20 minutes after the showing start time in order to miss.

Service

Left to my own devices I can become pretty self involved. Increasingly concerned only with my life, it's stressors, pleasures, and distractions. Which ultimately is pretty thin and unfulfilling. People have suggested to me, as a way to live a full happy life, to be of service to others when I can. And whenever I do that, whenever I take that suggestion, I feel better. Being of service or helping others(whatever you want to call it) feels good, gets you outside yourself, plugs you into something bigger and more important. This can mean any myriad of things. Doing some kind of formal volunteering with non-profit institutions, helping someone move(ugh), making the coffee at work, doing something small for a friend or loved one- cooking, cleaning, an unexpected gift. Providing a hug or listening ear when its needed. Whatever it may be. I've found helping others(to whatever degree, in whatever capacity) is gratifying, provides some measure of worth, gives me value that can sometimes be missing in this social-media heavy, ego-stroking, envy-infecting, rat-race our current society can at times appear to be.

My mom broke her ankle last Friday so the holiday wasn't as active as in years past but it was a wonderful weekend. I was able to show up for my mom(and dad) and contribute in small ways, doing a little cooking and cleaning and running some errands. Nothing major, nothing terribly taxing, but I was there and I did what I could and I think it made a little bit of difference. And that is all important. I'm not a monk nor do I claim to be, I'm not selfless or full of some unflappable serenity, but I try to get out of the pointless morass of my own minutia as much as I possible. I do my best day-to-day(which can certainly fluctuate) and it helps to try to be of service to others whether they be friends, family, co-workers, or total strangers. And that can be as large as a six-figure donation or as small as a quiet smile. And when you do that, when you take that action, you can find not only relief but inspiration, not only purpose but peace.

'Lady Bird' A Review

Guest review from Nicole

As the lights dimmed at the Landmark Theater, and the previews rolled, I was highly skeptical of what I was about to see. I had been putting off seeing Lady Bird for the sole reason of Gretta Gerwig. Whenever I hear her name, I immediately think of Frances Ha, a movie I could never get on board with. I couldn’t relate. Frances Ha reminded me of a black and white version of the HBO show Girls, with less vibrators. It’s slow. It’s pretentious. It’s out of touch. So, I wearily settled into my seat next to Steve, and waited for another narrative about a tormented, misunderstood, upper middle class white girl, who just can’t catch a break. Oh, how wrong I was.

Set in 2002, Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson(Saorise Ronan) is a senior at a Catholic high school, eager to move away from her hometown of Sacramento by applying to art schools on the west coast. This film gives a complex look at her relationship with her parents(Laurie Metcalf as Marion and Tracy Letts as Larry), her best friend Julie(Beanie Feldstein), and two contradicting love interests, musical theater Danny(Lucas Hedges) and bad boy musician Kyle(Timothee Chalamet). We watch as Lady Bird navigates universal issues(sometimes unsuccessfully) like lying about economic status, humility, shame, sexual orientation, the need to be different, communication, and so on and so on. 

Of particular note, is the relationship between her and her Mom. I found their interactions to reflect real mother-daughter relationships, and I could very much see my familial relationship reflected on screen. Metcalf gives a multi-layered performance, giving the audience tormented peaks of Marion’s own traumatic childhood, while at the same time showing genuine care and connection with Lady Bird. Wanting what’s best for her daughter, is translated into an oftentimes unhealthy “love language” of arguing and belittling. The switch back and forth between the two is sudden, and feels honest. I was particularly touched with moments when they were not speaking to each other, obviously hurt by each other's silence. This struck close to home for me, and I found myself checking in with my own mother once the emotional dust had settled. 

Shout out to Jordan Rodrigues and Marielle Scott who play Lady Bird’s older brother Miguel, and his live in girlfriend Shelly. Giving these two important parts within the nuclear family, gives a fresh breath of air to a mostly white film. Their relationship in itself is portrayed as complicated and quirky, with a taste of older sibling knows best syndrome. 

I think everyone can remember being a teen saying, “I can’t wait to be older” or “When I move away…” and then discovering that age doesn’t really give you better answers, but the experience/journey does. Typically, we are presented these types of stories from the narrative of a young male. Watching this movie forces the audience to have an experience through the eyes of a young woman. It portrays teenage girls as smart, complicated, strong, and just as curious and hungry as young boys. I hope Hollywood takes note that the stories women have to offer are powerful and compelling, and that people are hungry to see them. 

Lady Bird is the coming of age story that I never knew I was missing. Finally, a realistic representation of a (white) teenage girl, written by a women and not a man. You got me Gerwig! You got me GOOD. 

Don’t Miss It. 

In A Hurry

Like little mice
my fellow commuters
scurry up the stairs
intent only
on the time
perpetually
running late
attempting to outrun
the inevitable clock
little cogs
in the machine of industry
sheep
in the flock of finance
not to say
I'm not a fellow lemming
but
I never hurry to the train
nor rush to board
or shark for a seat
if I'm early or late
I don't let it effect
my steady pace

My First Train Ride

Not my first train ride ever of course, I had been on trains before, but the first time I rode the L. My first real taste of Chicago, the place that would become my home.

It was the latter days of my senior year of college, graduation was around the corner and we were all filled with nervous anticipation and perhaps a thinly veiled panic at what was to come. The acting majors, of which I was one, all headed up to Chicago to perform in our Senior Showcase for potential agents and casting directors. I stayed with my sister in Lincoln Square the night before who gave me clear instructions on how to take the train to where I was going(Steppenwolf).

I made my way nervously to the train platform and boarded the Brown Line at Western, fiercely concentrated on going the right way, Loop and Kimball having little meaning to me at the time. I found a seat and as we sailed off(in the right direction) a sense of wonder began to creep up and through me. As we coasted along above the houses and the city stretched out in every direction I was exhilarated by this teaming expansive of avenues and streets and consciousnesses all majestically intertwined. As if I had passed into some magic world with potential and adventure everywhere. A grown man's Narnia. I successfully transferred from the Brown to the Red at Belmont and felt deliciously adult and competent. As the train went subterranean another shiver ran up my spine, I was under ground, what a thrill!

As I came up and out of the North/Clybourn stop, birthed into the bright and busy Chicago afternoon, I looked at the famous theater I would shortly be performing at and marveled at my change in circumstances. Only the day before I had been in a small university town surrounded by corn on every side, morose with inactivity, uninspired, and hungry. Today I was in the capital C City. With pulsing pumping life and opportunity on all sides, overwhelmed by the bright and the new. O' the glory to be had! O' the promise!

After I actually moved the blush wore off and the gnashing teeth of the windy city chewed me up and spit me out humbled so I could return after two years of penance with some semblance of respect to the Midwestern giant we call the Chi. I ride the train now with assurance and mudanity, wishing I could recapture the pure and simple awe of that first most beatific trip.

'The Square' A Review

The Square is a Swedish satire about modern art museum curator Christian(Claes Bang), his personal foibles and the pretension of modern art. Christian gets his phone and wallet stolen, tracks it, and delivers letters demanding them back to the entire apartment building. Concurrently he is working on opening a new exhibit, the titular Square, which is a rectangle of light in which anyone can ask for help or something like that. After a misconceived promotional video and his anonymous letters receive backlash Christian has to grapple with personal and professional turmoil.

All the actors do their duty and the production elements are beyond competent however the subject matter and script are obvious, boring, and uninspired. Perhaps something is lost in translation as the Sweden portrayed in the film is insufferable and oblivious. Modern Art as a subject for mockery is easy, its low hanging fruit, and there is an element that feels cowardly about it. The filmmaker is "protected" from artistic criticism by his very transparent condescension of modern art. The concept is very obvious, reductive, and tired. Calling something out for being dumb while simultaneously participating in it is classic art school cowardice. Boring.

The other aspect of the film that falls flat is the pseudo critique/comment of class. The film endeavours to make some statement about homelessness and privilege juxtaposing numerous shots of beggars being ignored on the streets with Christian driving in his Tesla. However nothing coherent or meaningful ever really comes from this avenue because the homeless are bafflingly repeatedly portrayed as entitled, rude, and fat and despite Christian's obnoxious pretension the film can't help but attempt to elicit sympathy for him. It is definitely apparent that writer/director Ruben Östlund has a wry affection for his protagonist but it is frustratingly unclear why. These two thematic issues on top of numerous others from performance to tone to the bloated run time.

As this year's Palme d'Or winner I can only guess that this is the kind of thing that Europe views as provocative but here in the US it is easy, pedantic, post-modern swill that was stale fifteen years ago.

Too cool to have a message, too cowardly to bite.

Don't See It.

'Three Billboard Outside Ebbing, Missouri' A Review

Three Billboard Outside Ebbing, Missouri is a drama about a frustrated and grieving mother Mildred Hayes(Frances McDormand) who puts up three provocative billboards in order to reignite the investigation of her daughter's murder. Chief of police Bill Willoughby(Woody Harrelson) along with dopey and volatile officer Jason Dixon(Sam Rockwell) attempt to get her to take the billboards down and chaos ensues.

McDormand gives a stunning performance. Complex, tough, physically confident, emotionally volatile, vulnerable and assertive. There are numerous moments where she manages to completely and believably change on a razors edge or play multiple emotions simultaneously. Easily one of the best, most compelling performances of the year along with some of the best scenes of the year. She has a scene with Harrelson where they are arguing aggressively and obviously relishing the combative tete-a-tete when Harrelson coughs up blood as his character is sick with cancer, the shot is on McDormand whose face goes through a lightening fast but extraordinary change, from belligerence to compassion so quickly and completely it is astounding. The other major stand out is Rockwell as the simple, racist, but shockingly redeemable against-all-odds cop. Rockwell walks a tightrope of despicable behavior and cluelessness balanced with his natural affable charm that has no right to work but does. There is no question the character is flawed and complicated and suspect but his portrayal allows an understanding that on paper it has no right to. There's an incredible scene involving his character being given orange juice by a person he brutally assaulted that is both cringe inducing and heart breaking. The ensemble is filled with great actors doing excellent work but they all mostly function to give dimension to McDormand's character and to a lesser extent Harrelson and Rockwell.

Visually the film is crisp and simple with numerous striking scenes mostly as a result of the actors inhabiting them. There is one ill conceived CGI deer but that is forgivable. The score is potent but not intrusive the reality is that writer/director Martin McDonagh, originally a playwright, is concerned first, foremost, and maybe only with character. All production elements serve to put the actors front and center and allow them to create beautiful moments of humanity. Some cruel, some menacing, some touching, some redemptive, but all startlingly, gloriously effecting. This not to mention the humor which is thick and dark throughout.

Exalting in its humanism, joyful in its edge. One of the best films of the year.

Don't Miss It.

Shivers

I woke up at Midnight
what some call
the witching hour
chilled to the bone
feet like cubes
chest like fog
teeth chattering
like some cartoon
skeleton
torso thrumming
to some silent
freezing rhythm
I staggered to the head
and evacuated
mostly liquid
painfully
only to crawl
back to bed
and bundle up
to shake and shiver
beep and bop
twist and tick
under the covers
in hopes of warmth
that seemed impossible
when faced with cold
unflinching, bone-deep
and insurmountable
after tortuous hours
where time slugged by
and I got a glimpse
of real hell
I drift off to sleep
only to awaken
blissfully hot
the cold broken
the virus caught

'Last Flag Flying' A Review

Last Flag Flying is a military drama set in 2003 about three veterans from the same Vietnam War Marine unit who reunite to accompany one of their number Doc(Steve Carrell) to his Marine son's funeral after he is killed in Iraq. Sal(Bryan Cranston) is an alcoholic bar owner perpetually railing against the military and reliving his time in it. Richard Mueller( Laurence Fishburne) is a reformed preacher reluctant to get involved with his old war buddies. The three initially go to an air force base to view the body then take it to be buried in Doc's hometown when they find the circumstances surrounding his sons death aren't what the government has told them.

Carrell is engaging as he always is, the guy has incredible range and astonishing commitment but has been on a streak of good performances in mediocre films recently, this being no exception. Cranston is decent but a bit over the top and knowing of the connection to Nichelson's The Last Detail you can't help but see Cranston letting Jack influence him. Fishburne is solid, the most reasonable and expressive of the three but nothing any of them can do can really save the film from its inherent lack of clarity.

It is neither comedy nor drama, it neither honors the military nor satirizes it, it tries to make the characters both human and humorous caricatures. In trying to do everything it succeeds at mostly nothing. Moments of broad comedy come seconds after moments of deep emotion and it simply doesn't work. The film has no balance, no focus, seems to be unsure in almost every scene what tone or theme is driving the narrative. Writer/director Richard Linklater was either too laid back with his approach or didn't bring the necessary attention to a story with such emotional complexity.

Not a failure but tonally all over the map.

Rent It.

Interview

They say its easier to get a job
when you have a job
(which may or may not be true)
But this is the first time
I've been in a position
to test the sayings validity.
Sitting in this conference room
meeting with a succession of VP's
(one guy who looks startlingly like Jim Belushi)
I feel unreasonably confident
current employment robbing me
of the desperation I historically brought
to interviews past
and in hindsight
I wonder if I was assertive enough.
Should I have sold myself more?
Been less honest, less myself?
Curated my responses to exactly what they implied
they were looking for?
I don't know.
...
I'm asking you.
...
I've never thought much about "career"
Nor care to
Maybe that's the problem
I'd rather be writing poetry.

Puke Pants

The friend that has been cutting my hair the past copule years is no longer doing it. At least in her home for her friends so I needed to find an alternative for a long over due cut. There's a part old school part hipster barbershop by my house that seemed promising so I went there today to get a cut.

It's a nice place, they don't take reservations so you just put your name on a chalk board, first come first serve type situation. I put my name on the board, grabbed a seat, and cranked up my book on tape(more accurately audio book but old habits die hard, harder than cassette tapes) to wait.

After a couple minutes I noticed the guy sitting next to me had stains on his pants. They were almost neon orange dots, in a splash pattern. Then it kind of clicked, oh, it was puke. Looking at the guy, more of a kid really, it was clear he was very hung over if not still drunk. After a time he got in the chair to get his hairs cut and he dickered with the barber about price, after it was all said and done turned out the kid only had $19. Made me wonder what this kid's story was. Why couldn't or didn't he change his pants, why did he need to get a haircut so desperately that he dragged himself in there in that condition, what financial issues must that kid have that he needed to grind the barber about a couple bucks and then stiff him on the tip.

And I knew. Maybe not the particulars but the situation, the mindset, the feeling. Everything about it was familiar to me. I use to be the guy with puke on his pants, half out of his mind, trying to run errands and get things done on a Sunday afternoon despite being anesthetized to the point of near immobility. I know what it is and its miserable. I know what its like when mundane day-to-day tasks and basic functioning seem sisyphean. And sitting there watching this kid struggle, flounder really, through his afternoon brought me a lot of gratitude. For me those days are over. I no longer have to live like that and it's a relief. I work hard each and every day to maintain my sobriety and sometimes living life on life's terms can be a grind. There are times I get worn out, irritated, fearful, discontented, resentful what-have-you and I lose sight of all the wonderful things in my life, large and small, and I forget how far I've come. I forget what my other life was like. But seeing this kid brought it back in a very sharp and striking way. It was a good reminder.

Not to say this kid has a problem like I do, maybe he just had a bad night I don't know. But running errands on a Sunday afternoon under the influence with puke on your pants ain't good. And for me I use to do that kind of thing a lot and there was a whole lot of pain and grief wrapped up in it. But today my life is different. I can go to this barbershop which I have never been to before and sit and wait calmly for a haircut. And although that may seem simple it use to be something overwhelming fraught with anxiety. I don't pity the kid, I feel for him but for me those days are long gone and I plan on keeping them in the rearview.

'Jane' A Review

Jane is a documentary about renowned scientist Jane Goodall and her study of chimpanzees. Told from archival footage, a contemporary interview, but mostly from early rediscovered 16mm footage from the NatGeo archives. We see Jane as a young woman as she first started interacting and integrating in the chimp community. Her early family and the wild life that surrounded it.

Absolutely informative and compelling Jane isn't especially cinematic. The interview is interesting but lacks movement. The old footage intriguing but not exactly illuminating. The images aren't elevated by the big screen and the lack of ambition is somewhat transparent. Whether it be from a desire by the director for a more natural approach or from the more conservative perspective of National Geographic this comes across more appropriate for TV than the movie theater. With a cookie cutter Philip Glass score, with some pieces clearly repurposed from other better known documentary, this is even more apparent.

Whatever the reason, whether it be intention, lack of funding, or lack of vision Jane the movie is more pedestrian than the complicated and courageous woman herself or her groundbreaking work.

Safe both in content and in form.

Rent It.

'Thor: Ragnarok' A Review

Thor: Ragnarok is a superhero comedy, the third in the Thor series, and the latest in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The best part about the film is that it doesn't really feel like MCU #17. Under the direction of Taika Waititi there is an gleeful playfulness that brings a freshness in tone and performance if not necessarily with plot to this superhero installment. The film opens on Thor(Chris Hemsworth) in chains talking with fire demon Surtur outlining the end of Asgard, the prophesized Ragnarok. Thor bests him and returns to Asgard only to discover Loki(Tom Hiddleston) masquerading as Odin. The two set out to bring their father back but his absence has released their evil sister Hela(Cate Blantchett) who wars on Asgard while Thor and Loki are stranded on garbage planet Sakaar.

Hemsworth give his best incarnation of his long held character, playing it with significantly more swagger, humor, and charm as well as a fraction more heart and feeling. With this installment it seems Thor has finally found a proper identity, a proper style. There is an inherent sillyness about the character that the film embraces and makes it significantly more successful. Hiddleston is somewhat underutilized but this is fully and truly Thor's movie and that's as it should be. Blantchett is delicious as the villain but would benefit from more interaction with Thor and just plan character development. Her performance of fun but there is a sense of unrealized promise about it. Tessa Thompson as Valkyrie is a highlight as is the return of Mark Ruffalo's Hulk, whose is given way more room to play. Somewhat confined by the necessity of telling a Marvel story Waititi isn't able to reach his same level of heart but he is able to bring his same level of humor and the cast clearly relishes the opportunity to operate outside the standard superhero box.

There are some incredible visuals, all of Sakaar, a dynamic flashback for Valkyrie, and a number of the fight scenes but there are also a couple sequences with terrible CGI that look like they ran out of money. This disparity isn't distracting or detracting but it is odd. The score is chock full of classic rock hits which just elevate the already prevalent feeling of fun.

Funny and fresh, still a Marvel movie.

See It.

Pumpkin's Past

Me and my girlfriend
carve the pumpkin
she squishes the guts
and I scrape the rind
we reminisce
about pumpkin's past
cutting jack-o-laterns
with our parents
on our respective
kitchen floors

Picking out seeds
for later snacks
we debate
their baking methods
influenced
by our own traditions
and quietly work
on our large gord
hoping the leering face
will stave off the ghosts
for another year

'The Killing Of A Sacred Deer' A Review

The Killing of a Sacred Deer is a horror allegory and dark comedy inspired by the Greek myth of Iphigenia, who is threatened with sacrifice after her father kills a sacred deer. Dr. Steven Murphy(Colin Farrell) is a cardiologist with a seemingly idyllic suburban family however he meets surreptitiously with Martin(Barry Keoghan) a young boy, the nature of their relationship is unclear. To the consternation and panic of Steven and his wife Anna(Nicole Kidman) their two children Kim(Raffey Cassidy) and Bob(Sunny Suljic) become inexplicably immobilized with other life threatening symptoms to come. After all medical options are exhausted the only solution is an impossible choice.

Farrell is excellent as the guilty and pathetic doctor, finding a great resonance with the effected, dry, and bizarre style of writer/director Yorgos Lanthimos in this their second collaboration after 2015's The Lobster. Though Kidman seems to relish the constricted acting style and do more with it, the two share easily one of the best scenes of the year in a kitchen argument that is glorious in its emotional kabuki madness. Keoghan also flourishes with the odd presentational and the horrificly comic script giving a performance that will get him cast in years to come. There's also a surprising and delicious cameo from a 90's star whose exposure has faded in recent years. All in all there is a delightful absurdity and menace in all the performances that are incredibly unique given the almost universal realism we see on film and on stage.

Visually the film is off putting and luscious, mundane and surreal. The score at some points quietly elevating the action and at others discordantly distracting or jarringly heavy handed. The subject matter is certainly not for the faint of heart, the film is disturbing, but it is also remarkably distinct. An engaging, surprising, brutal, funny spark in an all too mediocre cinema landscape.

See It.

Everything's Fine

There is this expectation
part conditioning
to internalize any distress
to bottle up emotion
because it's perceived as weak
or uncouth or inconsequential
as if pain and vulnerability
weren't essential building blocks
of humanity,
encouraged
to say everything is fine
and turn a smile to the world
to hide internal turbulance
but the weight
is not ours alone to bear
it may take some practice
to speak up
to give form and voice
to hardship
but it is necessity
because there are times
when everything is not fine
isolation is no help
for healing.

Old Chemistry

The Night Shift was my Playground team made back in 2010. We performed steadily for a little over four years then decided to retire because of some changes made at that theater and because the shows were sparsely attended. We were friends and I think good collaborators. One of those rare teams that the quality of the shows mirrored the enjoyment we had hanging out outside of them. We've mostly stayed in touch over the past three years but we don't see each other that often. Just that nature I think of defunct improv teams.

On somewhat of a whim we did a show last night. Because of geography and waning improv interest there are only really four of use left. Damian, Craig, Molly, and myself and the show was really good. Not that that was a surprise, nor was it like some earth shattering piece of art, but even so it was kind of amazing how effortlessly we were able to find our groove and chemistry again. The familiarity and fluidity we had developed came right back and we were reading each other, making intuitive jumps, messing with each other, getting laughs, and having fun.

In improv there's a lot of talk about "group mind" this idea of functioning as a team, a unit, rather than individuals. It's something that new groups seem to talk about a lot but more seasoned performers and teams don't really discuss. And I think the reason is you can't talk about it directly. It's one of those things that disappears if you look at it straight-on. It's one of those kinds of things you just have to slip into not some skill you can develop or muscle you can exercise. It grows independently of your attention. Last night to me felt like a good example of that. I've known Damian, Craig, and Molly for a long time and there was a period where we performed a lot together but that was almost three years ago. I haven't really seen them perform much recently and we mostly stay in touch through gchat and text, neither the most intimate of mediums. Even so we have this thing we share. This language and ability to sync up that I don't think will go away.

People compare improv a lot to sports and music which have validity but for me I think it has more resonance with concepts of Zen. By not thinking but being in a state of readiness do things really happen, by not doing are real discoveries made and real inspiration found. By not trying do things and opportunities and ideas reveal themselves. Now I'm not talking about apathy or lethargy I'm talking about being in a state of openness and preparedness to seize and actualize characters and story when they present themselves.

I realize this may sound all very fru-fru and silly and perhaps self aggrandizing and I'm sure none of this is unique to me but the bottom line is that I had a good time last night with my friends and we had fun and the audience who paid money to be entertained was. And that feels good and comfortable and familiar. Say what you want about the ethereal and neverending nature of improv but it felt like success.

Too Close To Home

It's been a bizarre and difficult day. As someone in recovery I can be both hyper aware and hyper oblivious to certain things. At a previous job I had my manager had an alcohol problem and eventually resigned/was fired as a result. That whole process was very bizarre, odd behavior and people ignoring it or talking around it. I had a similar experience today which was pretty disturbing.

The past couple days this person I interact with frequently said they were sick but was still around. They seemed out of it, had balance problems, were slow to respond in conversation, and had articulation issues. Today they were sent home with little to no explanation except an undefined air of tension. Before today I took them at their word, that they were sick, but thinking about it it seems obvious this person was under the influence of some kind of controlled substance.

As this situation played out the stress of it hit me in the gut, kind of took the legs out from under me. Partly because I am the one that would have to cover for this individual meaning potentially a lot of extra responsibility, partly because the situation is so surreal and intense, and partly(maybe mostly) because the situation was so familiar. The behavior and the things that were said I knew intimately because before I got sober(what feels like another life time ago, another life) I said and did those exact same things. The making of excuses "I'm having personal issues." The flat out denial "I'm fine." The very real and tangible evidence of inebriation in a completely inappropriate setting. And the past rearing up its head in such an ugly blatant way was scary. Seeing it so plainly reminded me how close and how destructive my own addiction was and can be if I don't continue to take action against it.

Ultimately though it just makes me grateful, grateful for the turmoil that got me to the point of decision, to the point of surrender, and all the help and support and work that followed. This person and this situation were a glaring and discomforting reminder but a good reminder none the less. I'm not rich or famous or raveered but I am sober. And all the wonderful, exciting, affirming, inspiring things in my life come from that. I have great friends, a loving family, an amazing partner, vibrant creative outlets, a passion for cooking and reading and motorcycles and movies all of which I engage in frequently and none of it would I have without my ongoing recovery.

Sometimes life can be tedious, a grind. It may take a warning, a startling break in routine, to correct perspective. Because the reality is, at least for me, whatever trials I may face there's nothing that couldn't be made worse by a drink. Nothing that couldn't be destroyed by one.

'Chavela' A Review

Chavela is a documentary about the life of Mexican ranchera singer Chavela Vargas. Through archival footage and stills, talking head interviews, a couple concerts, and one early 90's interview with the artist herself the film explores her life, influence, sexuality, and music.

Undeniably a fascinating figure and an incredible and moving musician Chavela is undeserved not by intention or design but because of lack of material. There are numerous protracted shots of photographs with narration under them as well as generic historical footage that is transparently filler. The 1992 interview with Chavela herself is by the far the most compelling aspect of the film however it is shot on a family-style camcorder of that time period so the quality is poor and it is also hand held, not on a tripod, which is noticeable only because it is in constant lurching motion. Whoever the amateur cinematographer is they were certainly well intentioned but the video is almost unwatchable, thankfully the audio is clear. That direct interview is easily the most compelling aspect of the film but even then the individuals interviewing her are constantly interrupting, based on context it is presumably friends so their casual relationship makes for a somewhat sloppy and scatter shot interview. We are treated to two live performances which are stunningly effective but it does make the filmmakers lack of material even more stark.

Not because of the subject but because of the lack of viable content this would be more appropriate as a podcast or hour long HBO documentary not a full length feature. Unfortunately there is nothing cinematic about Chavela the film even the the woman herself is more than worthy of the worship of celluloid.

Rent It.

'Battle Of The Sexes' A Review

Battle Of The Sexes is a period dramedy about the 1973 tennis match between champion Billie Jean King(Emma Stone) and aging former champ Bobby Riggs(Steve Carell). The film opens on King and Gladys Heldman(Sarah Silverman) forming a separate women's circuit as a response to the USLTA's refusal to offer women the same prize money as men. We simultaneously see listless and declining hustler Riggs as he avoids his family and chases after cheap thrills. He gets the idea to challenge the women's champion and heavily promote the match as a Battle of the Sexes. There is also a poorly executed romantic subplot with King and her hairdresser Marilyn(Andrea Riseborough).

Stone is passable as King but lacks edge, she doesn't play it demure exactly but she is reserved and almost naive to the point of unbelievability for the political sports legend.This isn't necessarily her fault as the story this version of King is in is stunningly tame and soft. Carell is given equal if not more screen time than Stone which, given history and the inherent righteousness of King's position is kind of astounding. His performance as the rakish buffoon is good(I guess) but the fact that Riggs was either an awful misogynist or at least pretending to be one(what's the difference) isn't really addressed, is seemingly excused and attempted to be explained by the script. He's rendered sympathetic in a way that is borderline offensive. The other cast members don't have much to do and their performances are almost unilaterally muted and confused. Again, through no fault of the actors but through the problematic script and undefined direction.

Visually the film is underwhelming, for a story about a famous tennis match there is very little tennis in it. The titular match is filmed from an overhead angle that is exactly like that which normal sports coverage is shot. It is unexciting with little sense of the stakes. The story is so convoluted and toned down there is almost no sense of how revolutionary and important Billie Jean King was and is. And that above and beyond the half-hearted film making is what is so distasteful and off putting.

Disappointing and mediocre, a disservice to an American legend.

Don't See It.

'Happy Death Day' A Review

Happy Death Day is a horror/comedy about college student Tree(Jessica Rothe) who wakes up on her relatively innocuous birthday only to be murdered by a masked and black clad figure. She then wakes up and repeats the same day only to be killed again. Rinse and repeat until Tree decides to figure out who the murderer is and beat them to the killing ground.

Rothe anchors the film with a great balance of fear, humor, and pragmatism all kind of amped up by  her natural and significant charisma. The dork Rothe's character continually wakes up next to who eventually becomes her love interest is Carter played by Israel Broussard who also has an easy charm which, although lacking much if any depth, is fun and the chemistry between them is natural and engaging. The rest of the cast are all serviceable and funny, at the same time playing college slasher movie cliches as well as sending them up.

The conceit we've seen before, Groundhog Day is even called out by name at one point, but it doesn't particularly matter the device works and its well executed here. There is no real narrative surprise, a conventional slasher flick with effective humor in the vein of Scream, and it doesn't contain any cinematic complexity or richness, the visual style could be described, without judgement, as proficient. However the movie is fun and funny and entertaining. Without pretension and with an engaging cast propelled by the inherent momentum of the redo mechanism it works. Maybe not on the big screen but certainly on the small.

Rent It.

SlugMan

It amazes me
this guy has managed
to sustain employment
let alone a family or friends
he is like some aged monster
hatched out of the
repugnant morass
of 50's office chauvinism
anachronistic and disgusting.

Cragged face
low slung pot belly
relentless wheezing
incoherent fragmental mutterings
like a rotund and fetid Gollum.

Constant ingestion
of spirits and smokes
adding fifteen ugly years to his
repulsive middle age visage.

But more than appearance
(for homelyness is forgivable)
is his grunting crude vocabulary
today alone
I've heard him call a colleague sack
"what's up sack?" as in nut sack
I've heard him use fisting as if it were
a normal work-related verb
"this company is really fisting me".

My only hope is that one day
as he's making his laborious way
up the gentle half stair case
his moldy gray squelching heart
fails under the weight of his misogyny.

Daily Practice

Over the past couple years it seems like the tide of self-help has been displaced, pejoritized, the implication of "help" perhaps to close to weakness which it is, evidently, detrimental to admit. It's seemingly been replaced by self-care, which is essentially just a repackaging of the same concepts and ideas but without the same level of inferred humility. Whatever you call it there is always the danger of perceived egoism when people talk about or refer to working on themselves. But the reality is it can be a necessity especially in this our modern age of acidic social media and apocalyptic politics. However you term it I think it boils down to letting go of those things you can't control and taking action on those things you can and by doing those things achieving and maintaining some kind of balance, some kind of contentment.

The past several weeks I've felt off, anxious, weighed down. A bit overcome with how chaotic life can be. I think it started when Nicole and I had to unexpectedly move a couple months back and just kind of gradually gained momentum from there. Not to say I've been in a constant state of misery or anything, these things never work quite like that but its been kind of a steady waxing then waning then waxing of unpleasantness, discomfort. I found myself dreading going to work and when I was there maintaining a low grade unjustified panic. My thoughts racing with those kind of standard existential questions(what does it all mean? what's the point of it all?) that serve nothing save apathy and impotent nihilism. I figured my job was the problem, and it is chaotic and ultimately not the best fit for me however, telling my friend Jimmy about it he asked "what's changed" as I've had the job for two years now. And it set me back and really made me think. The answer is nothing. Nothing has changed about the job, the only other part of that equation is me. The real question I needed to answer was what was wrong with me.

The only thing I can control is myself. My actions and reactions. The world, life, my job, other people, all of it is outside of my control and when I attempt to control those things, attempt to will them in line with my wants and expectations I fail and am miserable. So what can I do. I can let go of desired outcome. I can apply for new jobs. I can build those things into my day that I know make me feel good. I can establish a routine that I can rely on independent of the chaos or influence of my job or the disparaging cultural and political landscape.

I've started a new creative project. I've started to wake up early. To work out and pray and meditate and take some time in the morning to find balance and whatever peace I can. To take some action against those feelings of restlessness and futility that had been plaguing me. And its working. I'm feeling better.

This is not something I came up with obviously, it was suggested and taught to me by others. But the point is a daily practice, whatever it may look like, can help. Small actions and routines can help with mood and racing thoughts and feelings and perspective. The world in 2017 may still be bleak and brutal but it is easier to face, easier to handle, easier to move through when we are doing the next right thing day-to-day, taking action where we can, and letting those things go which are outside our grasp. Which for the most part is nearly everything.

'The Florida Project' A Review

The Florida Project is a drama from writer/director Sean baker, his follow up to 2015's Tangerine. The film follows 6-year-old Moonee(Brooklynn Kimberly Prince), who lives in an extended stay motel outside Disney World, over the course of a summer. Moonee has adventures with her friends, good-natured confrontations with motel manager Bobby(Willem Dafoe), and helps her struggling mother Halley(Bria Vinaite) bootleg perfume.

The cast is incredibly evocative and potent, conveying an authenticity that makes the story not only feel real but achieves a level of submersion that is transportive. There is wonderful moments of delight and humor as well as stunning moments of affecting humanity. Prince and Vinaite as the nominal leads give powerful versatile performances and Dafoe gives a career high turn as the weary good-hearted manager but the entire cast does incredible work and ultimately the film is not about Moonee and her mom but about all the individuals in this community. And it is a raw look at this facet of society, joyous and heartbreaking.

The bright colors and pastels enhance the stellar cinematography which illuminates the beauty of this area and community. The production design conveys not only the reality of this time and place but shows it as Moonee must see it, childhood not as fantasy but aglow with opportunity and wonder. There is darkness and cruelty and menace but there is also boredom and laughter and profound excitement.

The most human and vital film of the year.

Don't Miss It.

Ode To Home Run Inn Frozen Pizza

You can keep your parchment like Tombstone,
your passable Jacks,
your pedestrian Red Baron,
your pretentious Digiorno's,
give me the Home Run
never has there been a frozen pizza
so seductive
the firm yet pliant
buttery flake of the crust
the generous, nay perfect, proportion
of thick
bubbling cheese
the sharp bite of cured meat
nothing average
nothing bland
nothing practical
about a slice
of Home Run Inn 'Za.

Devoid of frozen pizza pragmatism
it transcends the flash or flare
of the pizzeria
with a deep and abiding richness
a dimension
that is sustaining
even rapturous
like a patient sunrise.

'Blade Runner 2049' A Review

Blade Runner 2049 is a scifi drama, a sequel to the 1982 cult classic. In the future bioengineered humans, replicants, have been integrated into society as servants and slaves. K(Ryan Gosling) has been purchased by the LAPD to work as a Blade Runner, a hunter of older model/rogue replicants. As a replicant pejoratively termed "skin job" he is reviled by most humans and has little to no life, finding his only solace in his holographic AI girlfriend Joi(Ana de Armas). During an investigation he uncovers a long buried secret that threatens to change the landscape for replicants and humans alike.

The cast, save for one exception, is exceptional. Gosling unencumbered by the necessity of his charm gets to do some real acting. Soulful but somewhat vacant, tortured but understated, he makes for a great personification of human engineered existentialism. The chemistry he has with Armas is shockingly potent and instant given the nature of their characters and the story in which the two inhabit. She creates a fully flushed out character despite her literal unreality. Harrison Ford, reprising his role from the original, puts in what may be one of the best performances of his career. Gruff but with little bluster. Quiet and subtle, two adjectives somewhat unthinkable when describing Ford's acting style. Rewatching the original Ford, at the time, was a bit out of his depth, out classed by the revelatory Ruger Hauer but here he is an evocative broken mystery. The calm steady center in this apocalyptic storm. Obviously the glaring issue is Jared Leto, his overly affected presentational take on Wallace the man who took over the manufacturing of replicants is distracting at its best and unwatchable at its worst. His performance is so pretentiously contrived, his exposition laden dialogue so stilted and overwrought he brings the film to the verge of derailment any time he's onscreen. Thankfully that's relatively rare.

All elements of the films production are stunning, breathtaking. From the sets to the lighting to the costumes to the resonant droning score the film launches from the first film into a richer more complex version of this future. Immersive and beautiful. Suffice it to say, story aside, the design in and of itself makes the film worth watching.

See It.

The Current Climate

Sometimes I don't know
I don't know about any of it
frustration and confusion
the only constants
in this ongoing morass
of obligations and chores
and baseline necessities
never-ending, in perpetuity
working and eating and bathing
and defecating and buying things to consume
and this TV show is GOOD
and this politician is BAD
and my PHONE
and it all just feels so meaningless
so devoid of color, shade, and dimension
it is all sameness, all behavior control
and I despair.

But maybe I'm just hungry.

Yeah, that was it.

'Kingsman: The Golden Circle' A Review

Kingsman: The Golden Circle is a spy/action movie a sequel to 2014's Kingsman. Eggsy(Taron Egerton) has settled into his role as a Kingsman but his life is upended when drug mogul Poppy(Julianne Moore) blows up the other members of Kingsman and releases a time-delayed poison with her product. Eggsy and Merlin(Mark Strong) join forces with their US counter parts Statesman to combat the world wide threat.

Sharp and gripping action don't make up for a convoluted and bloated script devoid of any character authenticity. Certainly there is a heightened element to the material but at least the first installment maintained some semblance of character development and arc for its lead. Here Egerton is mostly on his own to carry the movie on his charisma without any help from the limping script.

Overlong and overdeveloped, the action soars while the story flounders.

Rent It.

'California Typewriter' A Review

California Typewriter is a documentary about three various typewriter enthusiasts, delves into a little bit of the history of the machine, and dissects its recent tentative resurgence. The primary subjects in the film are 19th century typewriter collector Martin Howard, typewriter-parts sculpture artist Jeremy Mayer, and the titular shop's repairman employee Ken Alexander. Those along with various other talking head interviews and archival footage round out a surprisingly deft and compelling love letter to the typewriter as well as an elegant critique of the digital age.

The film is shot and edited simply and competently and lets the various characters within shine with some wry flourishes. For example during part of the interview with John Meyer he is philosophizing about the "unplugged" freedom of his typewriter, pauses, his phone dings, and he immediately checks it the film then cuts away. Further description would lessen the impact but suffice it say there are some beautiful images of solid mechanics as well as surprisingly soulful and eccentric characters.

Inspiring and intriguing.

See It.

The Age of Trees

These trees have seen a lot
I do not envy their longevity
I hope the joy I feel in this moment
does something to soothe the pain
of yesterday.

'The Lego Ninjago Movie' A Review

The Lego Ninjago Movie is an action/comedy the latest installment in the Lego Movie franchise. A young boy wanders into a relic shop and is told the tale of Ninjago by mysterious owner Mr. Liu(Jackie Chan). Ostrizied high schooler Llyod(Dave Franco) grapples with his father being the evil Lord Garmadon who perpetually attacks the city. The attacks are thwarted by Llyod and his five friends who moonlight as the Power Rangers-esk secret ninja force. Garmadon eventually triumphs but a monster is unleashed and the secret ninjas join forces with Garmadon on a quest to overcome it.

The aesthetic of the movie is predictably sharp and compelling, in keeping with what we've come to expect from the Lego Movies however the story doesn't have near the punch of The Lego Movie nor even the coherence of The Lego Batman Movie. The voice performances are all appropriate in keeping with the tongue-in-cheek tone of the franchise however there is nothing below the surface. The performances are all adequate but fail to form any dimension, part of the issue being the cast is vast and packed with stars, no time is really given to any character save Llyod whose arc is reductive and kind of confusing.

Inarguably entertaining because of the visual style and pumping soundtrack but the story(credited with something like 15 contributors) falls flat. Clearly re-written and edited into predictable cookie-cutter mediocrity the promise of The Lego Movie has yet to be recaptured.

Rent It.

New Orleans IS Weird

There is drinking and a striking lack
of inhabitations from the children to the
elderly. Shops and food and face paint and
masks and music and fortune tellers and pralines
sellers and haunted houses and hanging gardens
and gutter punks and vagabonds and on and on.

But there is no pretentous and bleating
refrain to keep New Orleans weird because it is.
Unaffected, perhaps enhanced, by the parade
of tourists pounding the cobble stones
in search of release and pleasure and a little risk.

If you need to constantly call for the mainteince of weird
it's already long ago and far away.