Drawing A Blank

Through most of the summer I felt like I was on a bit of an improv hot-streak. Things were clicking, inspiration was coming fluidly, and I was consistent. Whenever I feel on a bit of a run I know a rut is sure to follow and the past two weeks I've felt a bit off. Uninspired, flat-footed, empty.

A couple times during the Prime show tonight I'd just stare at Scott and have nothing to say, find myself drawing a complete blank. Of course with Scott it doesn't much matter, he's a machine, he pushed through and my momentary lapses probably didn't register to the audience. But of course I knew.

It's bad enough getting on stage and feeling stale its worse looking into your friend and collaborator's eyes and having nothing to offer. Felt guilty after, like I was letting my teammates down, not pulling my weight. But of course it didn't register much with them, most of the judgement and deficiency is internal.

Performing in any medium you are always learning, always struggling. always going through periods of mastery and inability. You set challenges for yourself, jar yourself out of routines, keep at it and eventually you come out of it to some greater realization.

'The One I Love' A Review

The One I Love is a romantic dramedy with a fantasy conceit. Sophie(Elisabeth Moss) and Ethan(Mark Duplass) are having troubles with their marriage due to Ethan's infidelity. They are in couples therapy and it is recommended they go to a vacation home in the country to rekindle their lost spark. Once they arrive they discover their vacation home's guest house creates idealized doppelgangers of each other when they enter it alone. Instead of helping their marriage it widens their rift.

The film is wholly befuddled. Tonally mismatched it tries to be both relationship farce and dramatic marital study and fails utterly on both counts. An explanation for the doppelgangers is mostly ignored until close to the end when their is a shambling and incomplete reveal. The film follows no sense of logic in regards to its fantastical conceit and offers almost not emotional truth in regards to its leads.

Moss is given little in the way of character, her doppelganger especially is vapid and two dimensional, a waste for an actress with such potential. Duplass has more to do but in both incarnations is irritating, self important, and cloyingly smug.

Over-complicated and devoid of emotional resonance.

Don't See It.

In Defense Of 'The Village'

Tonight Nicole and I watched The Village, her for the first time me for the fifteenth(or so). I love the movie, have since I saw it in the theater back in college. Th movie has lots of detractors almost solely pointed at the third act reveal.

There's a small, isolated, New England village at the end of the 19th century. In the woods surrounding the town there are creatures referred to as "those we don't speak of" who, paired with a healthy fear of "the towns", keep the villagers secluded. The reveal comes in two parts. One, the creatures are actually the village elders perpetuating the myth to inhibit the desire to leave. Two, the village is actually located in a walled nature preserve in the modern day, they are not in the 19th century but the 21st, the elders created the village to get away from violence and heartbreak and the seductive immorality of modern day living.

The criticism stems not from the film but from the deviation from expectation. The Village appears at first glance to be a supernatural thriller, this idea was exacerbated by writer/director M. Night Shyamalan's reputation and prior films. He was well known for his plot twists but even better known for fantastical elements in his films. The Sixth Sense- ghosts, Unbreakable- superpowers, and Signs- aliens. The Village used the idea of its creatures to build suspense and evoke a mood. The audience was disappointed not because of the context or content of the movie but because we expected the creatures to be real because it was an M. Night picture. On the tail end of that reveal people felt betrayed, by the second revelation that it was modern day people were enraged. Not because of anything the movie was but because of what we thought it would be. Subversion of expectation can be good but in the case of The Village and the over zealous Shyamalan-hype-generator it back fired.

The Village has a hypnotic score, a thick and emotional mood, evocative period language, a restrained yet vibrant romance, and complicated crisp performances(Adrian Brody's garish mentally impaired manchild excluded). It deserves to be remembered for what it is not what people thought it was going to be.

I-90

There's a stretch of I-90 I've worn well with rubber. From Rockford to Chicago, Chicago to Rockford, back and forth. For a while I had all the exits memorized, knew the NPR schedule by heart both WNIJ(Rockford) and WBEZ(Chicago). I've driven, motorcycled, gotten rides, and ridden the Coach USA bus.

It has been an obstacle, a bridge for contemplation, an irritant, a safety blanket, a danger, and a bore. I've seen all manners of construction, traffic, and improvements. For a time my world encompassed only two cities and a stretch of road.

With friends moving and the Chicago comedy scene in a state of flux I have cause to reflect. My world is much larger now with innumerable possibilities. There are countless roads stretching out to the horizon. Each with opportunity and mystery and promise.

Old Habits

Last night around 9:30pm I made a pot a coffee and drank it. I've always been a night person and my creative engine gets going at night. I settled in and did some writing while finishing up Deadwood season 3.

I got in bed around 1am, tossed and turned and had an allergic reaction to Nicole's cat Ms. Kitty. My armpits got red and furiously itchy. Took some Wal-dryl and finally faded out around 4.

Today I've felt groggy and guilty. Yesterday I engaged in some of the same behaviors I did when I was drinking, minus the booze of course. Staying up late for no particular reason fortified by a beverage, getting in bed late, unable to actually fall asleep.

It's weird how comfortable it is, falling back into old patterns. How they resurrect those feelings of lethargy and shirked responsibility I thought long gone.

The good news is I'm capable now of working through the discomfort. Move through it and passed it. Without the drink there are a lot of feelings, good and bad, I'm grateful for them all.

'Frank' A Review

Frank is a dark comedy about avante-garde band Soronprfbs and its papier-mâché head sporting frontman Frank. The film follows Jon a boring English would-be musician as he falls in with the band as keyboardist, becomes fascinated by the lead singer and creative genius Frank, and records an album in a secluded cabin in the woods. The film culminates in an ill-advised SXSW engagement.

Despite the films title the lead in the film is Jon played by Domhnall Gleeson. The straight man we identify with as he navigates the world of his eccentric bandmates. As the story progress we discover Jon is not only untalented by somewhat fame obsessed, constantly utilizing social media to garner any attention he can for Frank and the band. Gleeson walks a fine line between good-guy and sleeze, we never quite like him but we never quite hate him. Michael Fassbender as the masked Frank utilizes his body to graceful effect conveying this music-crazed-genius who has issues with reality. Scoot McNairy and Maggie Gyllenhaal put in good performances however there is something lacking within the whole dynamic of the band- time. The film montages through any possible character development or relationships between the band members, this isn't a great detractor but leaves a potentially great film lacking depth.

Tonally Frank is deliberately discordant, much like the music composed by the fictitious band, it is equal parts enjoyable, mystifying, and unpleasant. The film plays into the underdog convention but never actually adheres to it, there are some odd yet pleasing subversion of expectations throughout. The journey of Jon, Frank, and the band isn't necessarily narratively satisfying, the band doesn't "make it", there are no major discoveries, what little growth there is happens in the last minutes of the film and even then, in regards to Jon, its not quite believable. But, like the songs within, Frank offers originality and artistry, gives a glimpse at the creative mind and its relationship with mental illness. Offers a look at a couple truly bizarre individuals solely dedicated to making music.

Disconcerting, inspiring, and maybe ultimately unsatisfying. Frank is a darkly comic look at creative genius, mental-illness, and the desire for fame.

See It.

A Movement

Ascending
a stack of stairs
anticipating
judging glares

Relief
like a light snow
a bed rich
for the coming grow

A movement
goes a distance then stops
its memory
a persistent throb

But spirit
ever lingers
unextinguished
flaming cinders