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.