Walie wanted to play with toys all day. APS replaced our crashed hard drive with an even bigger one. I had a 150-yard PR time in the pool during my midday workout. The American economy continues to grow. I solved the cascading style sheets problem in the preliminary Website for Kentucky Trust Company. Dana had an informative talk with a local man who recovered from a case of pancreatitis worse than what Bruce has. Seth helped me put the finishing touches on “Pirate Revenge,” the final segment of my goofy “Houseboat Trilogy” (originated as a teen not much older than he). Discovery landed safely and the astronauts held a press conference. Josh had another night’s sleep at the Blue Bank Farm.
Archive for the ‘Movies’ Category
Mombo-style recap
Tuesday, August 9th, 2005Twelve years later and worth the wait
Monday, August 8th, 2005Working on the family movie has been fun, and I’ll be somewhat sad to see it finished. I don’t think I can imagine a young person taking a project more seriously than Seth is taking the completion of “Pirate Revenge.” I can tell that it’s a bit painful for him to watch me insert gags and “camp it up” (in the old Dixon manner of my generation), and when we talked about continuing to tweak it, I shared the George Lucas quote, “No film is ever finished, only abandoned.” Seth thought that was depressing. Marty, who came along to work with us one night, wanted to know if I saw the essence of the piece as drama or comedy. I said, “If anyone can tell, then Seth and I have failed.”
Breaking up is HARD to do
Tuesday, August 2nd, 2005I’m trying to figure out how to say something about Andrew’s new film without spoiling it for someone who wasn’t at the Kentucky Theater opening last Friday night. It’s a clever twist on the typical love triangle and has many fine moments. I have enough experience with film/videography to know how much work goes into finishing a project like this, so I have to tip my hat to anyone who puts that much energy into a movie with no budget. I can’t wait for the day when someone gives Andrew the time, dollars, and support to do his best work. I know it will happen because this lad has more persistence than almost any other creative person I’ve ever known. He’ll be successful because he’ll never quit trying. I recall the only time I ever heard my friend Danny talk in public about being an actor, and there were a lot of young people present wanting to know how to break into “the industry.” He told them not to wait for somebody else to hand over an opportunity, but to just get a camera and start creating. I don’t believe Andrew was there that night to hear the advice, but that’s exactly what he’s been doing for as long as I’ve known him. He’s a talented, good-looking young man, but it’s his focused will to make it happen on his own that will be the key to his eventual “discovery.”
I don’t know, Johnny, I really don’t know
Saturday, July 9th, 2005Seth and I put in a rigorous session with Lady Casablanca and learned a few hard lessons in our first team effort to produce a final cut of “Pirate Revenge.” When we were no longer laughing at our funniest scenes, we knew it was time to call it a night.
Various & Sundry, part nineteen
Sunday, June 26th, 2005— Richard Benedetto’s recent column rests on that blurry line between news reporting and opinion, but it’s nevertheless a thought-provoking read. It’s title, “Turning old enemies into friends has long benefited the U.S.” makes me think about the other side of the coin: “Turning old enemies’ enemies into new enemies has long been the role of the U.S.” That’s the part of this issue most would agree on. And with the way things are, that’s probably the only part.
— The enormous virus/spam wave that’s going on right now is a huge problem. That’s why I get such a kick out of finding a sparkle of joy in the whole mess: Spam as Folk Art—the only silver lining out there. Last week my email service had 1.6 million mails hit their machines. Some 500,000 were rejected as viruses, and a bit over 800,000 rejected as spam, leaving some 200,000 or so to be delivered as legitimate mail (hopefully), but some crap does get through. I feel for all the “good guys” trying hard to stay on the back of this tiger. Somewhere out there is a young vigilante looking for his cause. A suggestion: 1) round up every spammer and virus writer, 2) make them swallow an overdose of viagra while getting an enema bag of liquified mortgage applications on the other end. (Uh-oh… I told Brendan’s mom that this would be a mom-friendly blog).
— Just in case you notice half a grand of spare cash sitting on your dresser top, and you don’t particularly care for shooting real handguns, add a Han Solo Blaster to your cart (or, for the more civilized, a nifty lightsaber).
— OK, it’s time to be serious. Good news from Bruce
personally; they talked to him about his eventual transfer to a rehabilitation center, which is a clear sign that his medical situation is improving in a positive and predictable way. See that light at the end of the tunnel, my son? I pray you’re there in no time!
— Best wishes to my brother Jay and his bride Glenda, who got hitched in Liberty this morning among a large contingent of our Clan. God bless you both, and may all our dreams meet to expand His glory.
— Bruce — Wayne — hmm… that does hit close to home
Friday, June 17th, 2005It seems a shame to enter a dark theater on such a glorious day, but, on the other hand, I’ve been waiting since childhood to see a Batman movie that did justice to my favorite comic book hero (who, along with Tarzan, possessed no superhuman powers). And then we’ll make up for it by spending the weekend camping on one of our knobs at the Blue Bank Farm (but we’re not saying which one!).
To Gotham and a true diversion
Thursday, June 16th, 2005On our way back from Indy, Dana and I needed a modest escape, so we had a glass of vino and saw Cinderella Man at the Baxter. Howard may not be one of our cinematic innovators, but he’ll usually exhibit some virtuosity with the tools available to him; he’s quite a storyteller (I liked The Missing enormously). It’s also clear he’s a fine collaborator—lots of other outstanding work done under his generalship in this picture: Oscar-level performances, convincing period ambiance, superb editing. There are some distracting flaws, however—like the fake-o winter-set details (he needed the guy who handled the snow on Gangs of New York). I didn’t think I’d respond well to another boxing flick after Million Dollar Baby (I personally wanted to see the new Batman movie, but…), so my positive reaction was a surprise. Now that my first choice has been endorsed, it’s only a matter of time before MartyMan and I leap into the GrandyJohnMobile and deal decisively with this unresolved matter.
Oldenday IX
Friday, June 3rd, 2005By adolescence, our collection of evolving characters and plot-lines had detached itself from playtime notions or other childhood limitations. We made an effort to shed not only elements of fantasy, but anything out of conformity to the “historical accuracy” of our invented world—the land of “The Pirates.” We used the term in its broadest sense. The band of half-brothers central to our story were not the classic “Howard Pyle types,” but true corsairs from the standpoint of their disregard for societal constraints or prevailing authority. Their adventurous conduct was governed by a common code of mutual survival and respect for each other’s keen abilities. That our story had no fixed beginning or end was well accepted by us all, and we felt free to add new personalities, ethnicities, and anecdotes, as long as they seemed to fit within a narrative continuum that was constantly pushing forward and backward in time. Revisions in service to coherence would pass muster and shape the new legacy. It’s hard to describe the shared excitement and the satisfaction of knowing that we could never be bored if we were together, because the joy of adding to our open-ended chronicles was just a collective daydream away. A mere suggestion could trigger a new layer of creative integration. I’m not sure when it happened, but we started to document a few things here and there, and before long it was apparent that there was no end to the depth and richness of the mosaic. I can’t say it was clear to us at the time that it would prove to be a lifelong pursuit, but we did appreciate its staying power and understood that it was certain to continuously improve. It’s no surprise to any imaginative individual that youth is often fertile ground for an enduring artistic vision. I just recently listened to Ron Howard explain that the premise of how he’d create his motion picture about the Great Depression derived from ideas he had in high school. By the time the oldest of us were settled into college life, we had quite a head of steam with our own story project, but we didn’t anticipate the explosion of development that was about to take place in “The Legend.”
Oldenday VIII
Friday, June 3rd, 2005When Brendan spoke of “building a narrative out of noncontiguous events,” it was as if he was talking about the tapestry of stories that my brothers and I have been weaving all our lives. Stories… they’ve been part of my creative identity from the beginning. Wanting to tell them was as natural as drawing. First it was with chalk and blackboard (my artistic genesis), and then it expanded to comic strips, “scrips,” and my early childhood writings (the Summer family’s life on a farm and the adventures of Gordon Antent, leader of shipwrecked souls). But whatever artesian well of infatuation might emerge and run its course, there was always a distinct narrative world that continued to evolve at the pace of my maturing regard for the human condition, and there was never any doubt about the fact that this was a story project that was meant to endure. As is typical with any creative momentum that has an origin in early life, it’s difficult to define how naive concepts gain an inertia that survive childhood play. And it was always a collaborative enterprise from the start, involving a sibling give-and-take of ideas that would find enough consensus to mold the stories and character profiles in a semi-permanent fashion, until the next burst of development. It all grew out of an activity that, for us, was a powerfully stimulative pastime—playing with little plastic men. Current hobbyists and collectors would refer to them as “playset figures.” The next generation would know them as “action figures.” But most families like ours wouldn’t expend limited resources for the elaborate playsets on the market, with their carefully planned and crafted groups of figures, buildings, props, and accessories (few would dispute that the Marx Toy Company was the high-water mark in the genre). We fit into the merchandising strata at a level called “dimestore toys,” cheap, simple bags of men (rarely women) with few if any accouterments. We envied the friends and cousins who had Marx
playsets (WWII Battleground, Blue and Gray, Fort Apache, Alamo, Ben-hur, and TV spin-offs like Davy Crockett, Gunsmoke, Wagon Train, and The Rifleman), but we could make do. We had imagination to spare and we had each other, but most of all, it really wasn’t about the toys. It was about the dramatic stories, and the heroic personalities, and the exotic homelands, and the interactivity of brotherly minds, and the continuity of our boyhood traditions, and ultimately… the fascinating nonlinearity of it all.
Various & Sundry, part seventeen
Saturday, May 28th, 2005— Marty finally convinced me to watch “Collateral.” Mann outdoes himself in this one. I won’t be the one to explain why it isn’t a flawless picture. If you haven’t seen it, I dare not give anything away. If you have, need I say more?
— Seth and I confirmed our desire to recut “Pirate Revenge,” and now I just have to schedule a block of time. He has access to the editing suite this summer, so it will be essential to have a new version before our Ohio gathering around Labor Day. If we hit the mark anywhere near my original visualization, minds will be most certainly blown.
— James encouraged me to spend time with Marty in the knobs, learning the terrain together and sleeping under the oaks. I own that land. What prevents me from claiming stewardship?
— Bruce undergoes a major surgical procedure tomorrow. I believe it will be the final turning point in his successful recovery. This is something that the providers would preferred to have have done much sooner, had he been strong enough to handle the general anesthesia, so I view it as an important step forward, rather than a setback. He’s ready for it, and it will lay to rest this stubborn condition in his internal core. May the mercy of Divine Law govern every aspect of the operation, guide every thought, and each skilled hand, to fulfill the promise of his unfolding destiny and the ultimate potential of his Christ wholeness.
Benicio Del Toro IS Emilio Sandoz
Wednesday, May 25th, 2005As every reader knows, there’s a turning point in each good novel when the author has you hooked. We’ve just reached it with
The Sparrow. I say “we” because Dana and I are taking turns reading it to each other aloud. Bob and Carol gave us this idea a while back. Cold Mountain was perfect for it, and A Man in Full was a hoot. Not every work lends itself to the practice, so we’ve had a few false starts. Inevitably we “cast” the main characters like a motion picture, so we can concur on physical appearance and general persona. Ethan Hawke as Inman and Ashley Judd as Ruby were engraved in the imagination before Hollywood made its own choices, and now I’m certain that only Salma Hayek could portray Sofia Mendes. Brendan recommended The Sparrow to his mom (my sister Joan), and she enjoyed it so much we borrowed it next. Bruce will want to read it when we finish. I already know that I’ll immediately want to start again from the beginning, but we’ll probably go find a copy of Mary Doria Russell’s sequel instead—Children of God.
Warm heart vs cold eyeball
Friday, May 20th, 2005I realized that our financial pinch has been going on for over a year. Lots of reasons for it. I just need to identify and deal with them, one by one. We’ve been giving away a lot of work, that’s for damn sure. I watched Rose interview Lucas tonight and was taken with the film maker’s remark about when he got started. He just expected his films to flop because nine out of every ten movies made are failures, but he learned the value of persistence and the importance of manipulating the system to one’s advantage, because talent and intelligence aren’t enough.
Skip the sequel with Sean Bean, if you don’t mind
Monday, May 16th, 2005Marty loaned me his DVD of
Troy, so I watched it late Saturday night while Dana was out of town. Although it kept my interest, it didn’t have much to offer. The workmanlike performances, clumsily directed, were squandered on a bastardized plot that should leave even a lukewarm admirer of the legend unsettled. When a screenwriter “fornicates” with one of the most exquisite stories ever produced by human culture, the punitive amputation of keyboard fingers should be given serious consideration. I’ll begrudge some credit to a talented cast who approached the script as if it did justice to its classic source. As I said, not much to offer, except for a few scenes of brilliant action choreography, which makes the motion picture worthy of attention by all but the most discriminating fans of stylized movie combat. Watch it for the craftsmanship in the fights, and then reward yourself by viewing
The House of Flying Daggers (Shi mian mai fu) or Hero (which Brendan found superior, but I haven’t seen).
Oldenday V
Monday, April 18th, 2005I regret that I didn’t pursue animation. Yeah, I know, it’s not fashionable to have regrets. I suppose there are self-actualized individuals who’ve genuinely reached the point of “no regrets,” but I reckon that with most people who purport to have no regrets, the claim is wishful horseshit. You have regrets when you fail to go after a skill or livelihood that necessitates beginning when you’re still young. For me it’s sailing, horseback riding, martial arts, and animation. Don’t get me wrong; it’s never too late to start doing anything you’re passionate about, but you have to face the fact that there are certain things that require a lifetime to get good at. Now I admit it’s true that Yukio Mishima didn’t start to train in the martial arts until he was 40, and still became a kendo adept, but he also flipped out and disemboweled himself in public, so I don’t think I’ll suggest him as a role model. There have been rare exceptions among artists (like Grandma Moses? Who else?), but the fact is I made choices that removed me from the world of animation, even though I’d art-directed a corporate animation for Rand-McNally at the age of 24 and had come to the attention of Chicago’s top animator. It’s not complicated—I out-smarted myself and stopped animating, just like Dadbo decided to become an engineer instead of pursuing veterinary medicine. Regrets don’t have to be debilitating, but most likely there will be something you’ll abandon and wish later you hadn’t. Just make sure it isn’t one of the “big things.” Never turn away from your true passions. So… I can’t sail, cycling is the closest I get to real riding, I’m still an Aikido white belt, and I’ve learned to live without animation, even though I still dream of having gotten rather good at it. I contemplate taking the time to study Tex Avery, Jay Ward, the TerryToons, and all the classic cartoon arts or immerse myself in the works of Jordan Belson, Saul Bass, or Hayao Miyazaki. Fortunately I still hold on to my greatest touchstone. I continue to draw with my own hand…
Just keep going
Friday, April 8th, 2005It’s now hitting me that it’s rather dangerous to enter the IU medical library and sit down in front of a keyboard, given my internal whirl of emotions and a state of French-roast-induced mental hyperventilation. Oh well, here goes…
Even in the year 2005, at one of the top hospitals in the Midwest, medical decision makers still don’t routinely punch catheters into a sick man’s torso and drain it like a dirty crankcase. They have to seriously think about it first. And then they have to assemble a crack professional team. Neither will they go in blind, but insist on using precise, x-ray imaging to guide them. That’s why Bruce had to endure yet another wait as technicians fiddled with the CT scanner.
But over the next few hours an astonishing sequence unfolded. After coming through surgery (with multi-hued banners rippling in the wind), he was soon off the IV sedation, breathing on his own, and writing truncated notes on the paper he’d asked for with sign language. By evening his ventilator tubes had been removed and he was insightfully recounting his ordeal. When we marveled at his vocabulary he dismissed it with a quip: “For all you know, Art Buchwald could be in the next cubicle.” I was moved not only by the return of his wit, but by all the other honest, pure-hearted expressions that he earnestly and meticulously communicated to each of us who paid a visit.
He told us that he wanted, more than ever, to view “The Passion of the Christ,” so he could be reminded of someone who had suffered more than he.
I am indeed proud of my courageous son and how he persevered though his silent trial and emerged with love, optimism, humility, wisdom, and good manners. I think it was Winston Churchill who said, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”
Various & Sundry, part eleven
Thursday, March 24th, 2005— Now that the corner has been turned, and Bruce’s life has been preserved, he faces a difficult future, short- and long-term. A tough row to hoe, as they say. Today it appears as though the doc has given up on salvaging his transplanted kidney—too little function, too much chronic deterioration. This means more dialysis, a process which Bruce grew to loath, and will surely dread to accept back into his life on any regular basis. It may be several more hours before his awareness clears enough for him to evaluate his choices (or lack thereof). He’s being moved from intensive care to progressive care, and taken off anti-rejection drugs, narcotics, steroids, and sedatives, plus he’ll be down to a single tube—oxygen. One of the reasons they doped him is because he became combative and ripped out the nasal/gastric tube at least twice (as I might have, too, had I been in his situation). Or maybe I have that backwards (side effects of medication causing aggressive behavior and colorful use of language). In any case, the outlook is encouraging, but I’ll keep up my prayers. It’s likely that there will be more bumps in the road…
— If I came up with an idea for a new method of capital punishment—slow death by starvation—would it be declared cruel and unusual? If authorities came into your home and discovered all the pets were dead, would they say, “…within his rights—slow death by starvation.”? Sorry, just thinking rhetorically here. (Did I do the punctuation correctly on that?) “…I can’t imagine why, the world has time enough to cry.”
— As an avid watcher of Brian Lamb’s “Booknotes,” I was disappointed when he wrapped the 800-show series on C-SPAN. Listening to writers talk about writing makes me want to write. Listening to politicians talk about politics doesn’t make me want to run for office. Listening to artists talk about art definitely makes me want to make art. Now the only other good interview show with the classic all-black set is Charlie Rose. I think Rose is at his best when he’s talking to artists. Not that he doesn’t demonstrate the same level of skill when interviewing journalists and politicians, but I guess he tends to insert more opinions that sometimes irritate me. His recent conversation with Daniel Day-Lewis and his astonishingly brilliant and beautiful wife, Rebecca Miller (daughter of the late Arthur Miller), was just about as good as television ever gets. How in the world does he get these creative people to relax and describe the inexpressible aspects of their talent and craft? His style is totally different than Lamb’s, but they both make it look so easy. Not the performance (if that’s what you can call it), but the technique of coaxing the guest to say things that are genuinely interesting. I made the mistake of watching a perfunctory interview with Clint Eastwood, leading up to the Oscars, and the interviewer managed to avoid steering him to a single topic that was remotely enlightening… quite a feat, actually.
Now (tough) vs later (really tough)
Friday, March 18th, 2005I saw part of an interview with
Dennis Quaid. The other person, referring to scenes from a recent movie, remarked that he was in great physical shape for his age. Now, let’s put aside the fact that a Hollywood star can devote months of preparation before going in front of a camera, including personal trainers, nutritional advisors, plus hours a day in the gym leading up to a shooting schedule. Nevertheless, Quaid said something in response which was pretty powerful: “I got fit in my twenties and I never really let myself get out of shape.”
Important note to young people of either gender: It’s much easier to maintain youthful fitness than to rebuild it later in life after its been lost. Even if you haven’t been an athlete, it’s much easier to get in shape in your twenties and work to preserve it, versus putting it off until later, when you inevitably begin to dislike how your body is aging.
This may sound like a lecture, but uncles are allowed to instruct now and then, especially when it’s based on direct experience. Trust me, everybody over the age of 40 wants to be in good shape. It’s just a matter of whether you have a 20-year momentum to work with, or whether you have to start basically from scratch.
Various & Sundry, part ten
Saturday, March 12th, 2005— We had no business doing it, but we purchased a DVD recorder for our TV/cable configuration at home. Dana’s testing it out today. My question is this: If I’m supposed to transfer my entire collection of Mission: Impossible from VHS to DVD in order to save space, does that mean I get to watch all of it during the dubbing?
— Last night Dana and I made pizza, opened a bottle of Australian Merlot (Black Swan), and celebrated 27 years since our first date. Positioned precisely six months across the calendar from our wedding anniversary, this special observation enables us to have two celebrations each year that honor our enduring partnership in all things.
— After hearing a remark by Charles Murray that the movie Groundhog Day is an “Aristotlelian moral fable” of profound significance that will stand the test of time as a great work of art, Dana and I watched it again and enjoyed it enormously. Yes, I’m aware that among some people, Murray (no relation to Bill) has a negative reputation (unfair, in my opinion), but how can a guy who lists P.J. O’Rourke and James Clavell among his favorites be all bad?
Gallant fact vs believable fiction
Monday, February 21st, 2005After the trip to Berea for Mombo’s celebration, Marty came home with us in preparation for his all-night “lock-down” at The Stadium. He had a good time, connecting with two of his old chums from Bate, but was ready to promptly crash upon his return this morning. When he woke up in the afternoon we talked about Josh for a while, got on the subject of Iwo Jima, which was fought exactly 60 years ago, and discussed how the new movie currently in production might be structured. We ended up at a site devoted to medal recipients from the battle, and after reading a few descriptions, both of us concluded that if some of these true-life sacrificial exploits were brought to the big screen, many people would think they were too unrealistic to have actually occurred. Case in point: Douglas Thomas Jacobson, USMC (born the same year as Mombo).
Dave Garver vs Frankie Dunn
Tuesday, February 15th, 2005I remember first seeing the word Malpaso on the big screen when I summoned the courage to ask out a college classmate, and we went to see “Play Misty for Me” together. For years, just viewing the word on a field of black would trigger an ample dose of anticipatory delight. After watching “Unforgiven,” “The Bridges of Madison County,” and “Mystic River,” the word now assumed tragic tones for me at the opening of “Million Dollar Baby. Was I prepared for two hours of Eastwood’s lean but effective craftsmanship, wearing at my emotions the way a rough sock slowly rubs a blister on a long run?
Clint’s melancholy original music lingers as I give up on capturing with keyboard the ache I took from the theater tonight. I’m already thinking about what could happen at the Academy Awards, and his upcoming picture—on the subject of Iwo Jima—and how I might feel inside the next time that word Malpaso fades up before me in a darkened space.
Various & Sundry, part six
Monday, February 14th, 2005— Since last week, Dana and I’ve been so tied up preparing for tomorrow’s major presentation that we reluctantly acknowledged to each other over coffee this morning that Valentine’s Day would surely slip away without adequate observation. Million Dollar Baby will have to wait.
— Some guy was on the tube today lambasting authors who come up with another gimmick just to get their diet book on the New York Times best seller list. What was he promoting? A new book about diets that will probably get on the best seller list.
— When our friends Jeannette and Betty were in D.C. for the inauguration, they had a chance to get a picture taken with Ben Stein at one of the gala events. They loaned me the snapshot to scan for them and I think my smile, while sitting here doing the favor, is as big as theirs in the photo. It would be so cool to meet Ben and then score a picture with him in his tuxedo. He has to be one of the most desirable media personalities a non-celebrity could hope to encounter. There’s nothing about Ben not to like, and he genuinely appreciates people. I became convinced of that when I read excerpts from his diary. Anyone who likes to document life’s ordinary experiences can learn so much from how Ben does it. Someday his journals will undoubtedly become one of the most valuable accounts of contemporary American life produced at the turn of the century. He has an extraordinary insight into what makes the world go round. It’s never too late to learn new skills for living, because it’s never too late to screw up your life. There aren’t too many books that everyone should read. Ben’s book is one of them!
Timba-Timba, Mahowani, Umgawa
Monday, February 7th, 2005Captive elephants from 1990 to 2003 killed 65 people and injured 130, according to Circuses.com. Moral of the story: don’t mess with Republicans. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t recommend cornering a guy from PeTA.org either. Where’s Tarzan to sort out all of this?