Molly Burkhart's Blog, page 8
March 1, 2012
Dear Charlie:
Well, looky who's a bad blogger!
While I know quite well that work would notice me missing immediately, as would the cast of the play I'm in (yes, I got a part!) and my Third Thursday comrades, I sometimes wonder if my friends and family or my internet folks would have a clue. I'm a bit haphazard about my updates, am I not?
...Sorry. I'm a bad monkey.
To update:
1) I vanquished the flu. I'm still a bit phlegmy, but on the mend.
2) I got a role in the play I first mentioned way back in, what, September? There are only seven roles -- only two of which are women -- but thanks to a lack in male persons auditioning, the director got a listen at my broad British accent and signed me up for Froggy. This is awesome for entirely too many reasons, as follows:
___a) Froggy is a British army explosives expert. That in itself is freakin sweet.
___b) I get to have a bluff, hearty, rather mercurial temper, which is great fun to act out.
___c) Froggy is a bald-faced liar, but only in a kind attempt to abet his friends.
___d) I'll spend most of my time on stage with a highball glass of (oddly tea-flavored) whiskey in my hand. Heheh. Pub!
___e) And this is the absolute best part... I get to blow something up at the end! Considering we have 6 show dates and will need at least one technical rehearsal to ensure the effects work, I get to blow stuff up SEVEN TIMES!! My life... will soon be complete (except for that trip to Scotland that's #1 on my bucket list).
3) I'm singing not one but two songs in the upcoming Third Thursday which falls, oddly enough, on the Ides of March. Dream Spiral's theme this time around is color, so I'm singing "99 Red Balloons" and "White Rabbit". I wanted to do the SuckerPunch version, but couldn't find it just instrumental anywhere. So, Jefferson Airplane version, it is.
All this stuff has left me very little free time, and I'm already dragging pretty tired, but it's definitely keeping me busy and making the time fly. Yes, that was a backward attempt to excuse my month-long absence. I have reasons!
No, really!
I haven't had much time to write, but I do have the best idea for a new story that I've been jotting notes for, and I did crank out a few new pages on a story my beloved sister would be excited to know I'm working on just last week. It's hard to write when I'm focusing on my lines for the play, but I imagine all the creative activity has put my writing jones into action.
As usual, when I least have time to write is when I most need to. Ha ha, muse. You're a real laugh riot. Jerk.
While I know quite well that work would notice me missing immediately, as would the cast of the play I'm in (yes, I got a part!) and my Third Thursday comrades, I sometimes wonder if my friends and family or my internet folks would have a clue. I'm a bit haphazard about my updates, am I not?
...Sorry. I'm a bad monkey.
To update:
1) I vanquished the flu. I'm still a bit phlegmy, but on the mend.
2) I got a role in the play I first mentioned way back in, what, September? There are only seven roles -- only two of which are women -- but thanks to a lack in male persons auditioning, the director got a listen at my broad British accent and signed me up for Froggy. This is awesome for entirely too many reasons, as follows:
___a) Froggy is a British army explosives expert. That in itself is freakin sweet.
___b) I get to have a bluff, hearty, rather mercurial temper, which is great fun to act out.
___c) Froggy is a bald-faced liar, but only in a kind attempt to abet his friends.
___d) I'll spend most of my time on stage with a highball glass of (oddly tea-flavored) whiskey in my hand. Heheh. Pub!
___e) And this is the absolute best part... I get to blow something up at the end! Considering we have 6 show dates and will need at least one technical rehearsal to ensure the effects work, I get to blow stuff up SEVEN TIMES!! My life... will soon be complete (except for that trip to Scotland that's #1 on my bucket list).
3) I'm singing not one but two songs in the upcoming Third Thursday which falls, oddly enough, on the Ides of March. Dream Spiral's theme this time around is color, so I'm singing "99 Red Balloons" and "White Rabbit". I wanted to do the SuckerPunch version, but couldn't find it just instrumental anywhere. So, Jefferson Airplane version, it is.
All this stuff has left me very little free time, and I'm already dragging pretty tired, but it's definitely keeping me busy and making the time fly. Yes, that was a backward attempt to excuse my month-long absence. I have reasons!
No, really!
I haven't had much time to write, but I do have the best idea for a new story that I've been jotting notes for, and I did crank out a few new pages on a story my beloved sister would be excited to know I'm working on just last week. It's hard to write when I'm focusing on my lines for the play, but I imagine all the creative activity has put my writing jones into action.
As usual, when I least have time to write is when I most need to. Ha ha, muse. You're a real laugh riot. Jerk.
February 2, 2012
Phlegmy Update:
So they kicked me outta work today.
See, like 80% of our office is out sick. Even though most of us got the flu shot, we all have variations of the same thing -- the flu. Ugh.
Mine started day before yesterday. After lunch, I started coughing. I chalked it up to what I'd eaten for lunch, even though people were already sick and had been for a good week. Then, yesterday, I did the chills/sweats thing, though I was mostly freezing. I felt so awful with the coughing and the shaking and the aching that I asked to leave a little early -- 4:30 instead of 5:00, but you know it's bad when you can't go another half-hour -- with promises that I'd be in early the next morning to cover the time.
When I got home, I immediately took my temperature and guess what? Yup. 103. That's not good.
Since I was freezing, I ran a super-hot bath and relaxed, trying to warm up a little. It made me dizzy, but it felt soooo good. Then I crashed on my bed (still don't have a recliner) in hopes of reading or something, but that was no good. It was too hard to even hold my head up. I was exhausted.
I never really did pass out, but I was in bed for real by 8:00, though I woke up every two hours or so to either shivering, sweating, or horrible barking coughs. Still, I did feel better this morning, and my temp was only 100.1. I even got up a little early so I could hit Wal-Mart for some chicken noodle and orange juice. I even picked up some of that Mucinex cough syrup, and while it tastes AWFUL, it did tame down the cough a bit.
However, folks at work took one look at me and said NO. I was pale and clammy instead of red-faced feverish, but they could tell. So yeah, they sent me home.
Since my doctor has kinda disappeared (no one seems to know what happened, but he closed his practice with the local hospital), I went to Urgent Care. It didn't escape me that a fever spike of 103 wasn't exactly healthy. When I listed off my symptoms, the doctor immediately put on a face mask and ordered up a flu swab. It's supposed to be a 15-minute test, but he said later that a minute and a half later, it already showed Flu A.
Greeeeaaaaaat.
So I had to go back to Wal-Mart for some prescriptions, and he banned me from work today and tomorrow. I'll go in Saturday to make up time and finish up my billing for this cycle, but I HATE being off. I don't have time to be sick, darn it!
At any rate, doctor's orders are to rest and hydrate, so I guess that's what I'mma do. *sigh* I certainly don't want to have accidentally given to anyone who wasn't already sick, but who knows? Like I said, so many people were already out with it.
Stupid flu. It oughtta know when it's not wanted.
See, like 80% of our office is out sick. Even though most of us got the flu shot, we all have variations of the same thing -- the flu. Ugh.
Mine started day before yesterday. After lunch, I started coughing. I chalked it up to what I'd eaten for lunch, even though people were already sick and had been for a good week. Then, yesterday, I did the chills/sweats thing, though I was mostly freezing. I felt so awful with the coughing and the shaking and the aching that I asked to leave a little early -- 4:30 instead of 5:00, but you know it's bad when you can't go another half-hour -- with promises that I'd be in early the next morning to cover the time.
When I got home, I immediately took my temperature and guess what? Yup. 103. That's not good.
Since I was freezing, I ran a super-hot bath and relaxed, trying to warm up a little. It made me dizzy, but it felt soooo good. Then I crashed on my bed (still don't have a recliner) in hopes of reading or something, but that was no good. It was too hard to even hold my head up. I was exhausted.
I never really did pass out, but I was in bed for real by 8:00, though I woke up every two hours or so to either shivering, sweating, or horrible barking coughs. Still, I did feel better this morning, and my temp was only 100.1. I even got up a little early so I could hit Wal-Mart for some chicken noodle and orange juice. I even picked up some of that Mucinex cough syrup, and while it tastes AWFUL, it did tame down the cough a bit.
However, folks at work took one look at me and said NO. I was pale and clammy instead of red-faced feverish, but they could tell. So yeah, they sent me home.
Since my doctor has kinda disappeared (no one seems to know what happened, but he closed his practice with the local hospital), I went to Urgent Care. It didn't escape me that a fever spike of 103 wasn't exactly healthy. When I listed off my symptoms, the doctor immediately put on a face mask and ordered up a flu swab. It's supposed to be a 15-minute test, but he said later that a minute and a half later, it already showed Flu A.
Greeeeaaaaaat.
So I had to go back to Wal-Mart for some prescriptions, and he banned me from work today and tomorrow. I'll go in Saturday to make up time and finish up my billing for this cycle, but I HATE being off. I don't have time to be sick, darn it!
At any rate, doctor's orders are to rest and hydrate, so I guess that's what I'mma do. *sigh* I certainly don't want to have accidentally given to anyone who wasn't already sick, but who knows? Like I said, so many people were already out with it.
Stupid flu. It oughtta know when it's not wanted.
January 2, 2012
Dear Charlie:
Well, it's 2012. Does it feel any different? Not sure yet.
So I finally broke down and watched the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, On Stranger Tides. Mind you, I wasn't actually ignoring it and had no real reason for having not seen it yet. I just hadn't gotten around to it and didn't realize it was out to rent yet. Heh.
Of course, I watched all three of the others back to back before popping it in. Any excuse, eh? Anyone who's visited my sidebar knows how I love this series. I don't know why people have any quibbles with these three movies. They're wonderfully entertaining, emotionally engaging, and far cooler than their ride could ever be. I honestly feel my heart soar at the end of At World's End (that's a mouthful!) when they hoist the colors to start an unwinnable war. If that isn't the point of a movie, I dunno what is.
But I admit I had my reservations about the new one. It wasn't Gore Verbinski, and he's definitely what brought so much life and vigor and flesh-melting good fun to the franchise. And truly stunning vision, like when the Singaporean boat is sailing through the sea of stars. That, coupled with the mournful tinkling of Calypso's music box necklace, is perhaps my favorite image of the whole lot.
But it's still Johnny Depp. It's still Captain Jack. So I leapt in.
Honestly, it's not bad. It's entertaining, and Cap'n Jack is his rum-soaked, mind-bogglingly cunning self. It's still Barbossa -- though a more embittered one, which is a strangely good twist -- and the addition of Ian McShane is a definite boost. He's wonderfully amoral as the heartless, heedless Blackbeard. The adventure is fun, and I like the little side-story of the mermaid and the priest. I also like that the king is quite bonkers. Historical accuracy, much? Ha!
But....
Yeah, there's a but. It just seems like something's missing. As much as I was glad to see Will and Elizabeth's story end as happily as it could, I have to admit to missing their liveliness this time around. No offense to Penelope Cruz, but I just didn't care about her character. I think they were trying too hard to be as fun as the earlier folks. So she was a corrupted nun who finds out she's Blackbeard's long-lost daughter. So? I just never felt sorry for her, and I never could figure out what about her was so sterling as to win Jack's affections.
Think about it: Jack, an admittingly self-serving pirate with only the most tentative hold on anything resembling loyalty or admirable character, goes against his better judgment countless times to help Will and Elizabeth. Why? Because, despite all odds, they became his friends. Elizabeth because she's a firebrand who insists on a certain measure of honor and decency even while being willfully determined to do whatever she must to save the people she cares for. Will because he's so disustingly honorable that Jack can't help but take him under his wing to show him how to manipulate the world around them to their better ends.
But... Angelica? Meh.
Consider it: why would Jack Sparrow, a womanizer of perhaps legendary status, give up his own immortality for an innocent he seduced and left years before? Unless it's just because the writers say so?
Will and Elizabeth earned his aid and grudging affections by sticking to their honor even when it hampered their own survival. Angelica turned into a sorry imitation of a pirate who turned into a sorry imitation of a doting daughter who wasn't even an imitation there. Why should he care? She's shown no sturdiness or fieriness of character to earn more than a passing glance from a man who's already tasted the goods and walked away.
It seems like Jack's lingering feelings for her are just sort of penciled in to make him part of the plot, which wasn't necessary considering he was already on the way to the Fountain of Youth, anyway.
Maybe if she had been lying about being Blackbeard's daughter, she might have been interesting enough to keep his eye, but it turns out, she's just ho-hum. Just... written in to have a woman involved. Love Elizabeth or hate Elizabeth, she's infinitely more relatable than Angelica.
Hopefully, they'll take the continuing sequels a different direction in an attempt to find the elusive something that made the first three so effective. They've set Cap'n Jack's standards so high that they can't just say he'd give up everything for someone without proving why. Sparrow doesn't go against his own impulses for no good reason. Maybe winning his loyalty is what made the original interactions so engaging.
Maybe they should stick with that.
So I finally broke down and watched the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, On Stranger Tides. Mind you, I wasn't actually ignoring it and had no real reason for having not seen it yet. I just hadn't gotten around to it and didn't realize it was out to rent yet. Heh.
Of course, I watched all three of the others back to back before popping it in. Any excuse, eh? Anyone who's visited my sidebar knows how I love this series. I don't know why people have any quibbles with these three movies. They're wonderfully entertaining, emotionally engaging, and far cooler than their ride could ever be. I honestly feel my heart soar at the end of At World's End (that's a mouthful!) when they hoist the colors to start an unwinnable war. If that isn't the point of a movie, I dunno what is.
But I admit I had my reservations about the new one. It wasn't Gore Verbinski, and he's definitely what brought so much life and vigor and flesh-melting good fun to the franchise. And truly stunning vision, like when the Singaporean boat is sailing through the sea of stars. That, coupled with the mournful tinkling of Calypso's music box necklace, is perhaps my favorite image of the whole lot.
But it's still Johnny Depp. It's still Captain Jack. So I leapt in.
Honestly, it's not bad. It's entertaining, and Cap'n Jack is his rum-soaked, mind-bogglingly cunning self. It's still Barbossa -- though a more embittered one, which is a strangely good twist -- and the addition of Ian McShane is a definite boost. He's wonderfully amoral as the heartless, heedless Blackbeard. The adventure is fun, and I like the little side-story of the mermaid and the priest. I also like that the king is quite bonkers. Historical accuracy, much? Ha!
But....
Yeah, there's a but. It just seems like something's missing. As much as I was glad to see Will and Elizabeth's story end as happily as it could, I have to admit to missing their liveliness this time around. No offense to Penelope Cruz, but I just didn't care about her character. I think they were trying too hard to be as fun as the earlier folks. So she was a corrupted nun who finds out she's Blackbeard's long-lost daughter. So? I just never felt sorry for her, and I never could figure out what about her was so sterling as to win Jack's affections.
Think about it: Jack, an admittingly self-serving pirate with only the most tentative hold on anything resembling loyalty or admirable character, goes against his better judgment countless times to help Will and Elizabeth. Why? Because, despite all odds, they became his friends. Elizabeth because she's a firebrand who insists on a certain measure of honor and decency even while being willfully determined to do whatever she must to save the people she cares for. Will because he's so disustingly honorable that Jack can't help but take him under his wing to show him how to manipulate the world around them to their better ends.
But... Angelica? Meh.
Consider it: why would Jack Sparrow, a womanizer of perhaps legendary status, give up his own immortality for an innocent he seduced and left years before? Unless it's just because the writers say so?
Will and Elizabeth earned his aid and grudging affections by sticking to their honor even when it hampered their own survival. Angelica turned into a sorry imitation of a pirate who turned into a sorry imitation of a doting daughter who wasn't even an imitation there. Why should he care? She's shown no sturdiness or fieriness of character to earn more than a passing glance from a man who's already tasted the goods and walked away.
It seems like Jack's lingering feelings for her are just sort of penciled in to make him part of the plot, which wasn't necessary considering he was already on the way to the Fountain of Youth, anyway.
Maybe if she had been lying about being Blackbeard's daughter, she might have been interesting enough to keep his eye, but it turns out, she's just ho-hum. Just... written in to have a woman involved. Love Elizabeth or hate Elizabeth, she's infinitely more relatable than Angelica.
Hopefully, they'll take the continuing sequels a different direction in an attempt to find the elusive something that made the first three so effective. They've set Cap'n Jack's standards so high that they can't just say he'd give up everything for someone without proving why. Sparrow doesn't go against his own impulses for no good reason. Maybe winning his loyalty is what made the original interactions so engaging.
Maybe they should stick with that.
December 25, 2011
Holiday Sidebar:
In honor of Christmas (yes, currently watching 28 Weeks Later), enjoy some more zombie Christmas lyrics!
The rest can be found in pieces in the sidebar or in toto here. Woo-hoo!
Up on the Zombie
Up on the housetop, snipers pause
It's a zombie Santa Claus
Dragging a bag that's leaking toys
Ignored by undead girls and boys
Ew-ew-ew! What the hell?
Ew-ew-ew! Don't he smell?
Up on the housetop, snipers fire
Santa's head goes like a tire
First, should we go out to recon?
Oh, survivors, are they gone?
All those toys just out of reach
Maybe there's one for us each
Ew-ew-ew! What the hell?
Ew-ew-ew! What's that smell?
Up on the housetop, snipers wait
See if we will take the bait
Next we have to form a plan
Who will go out? Who's our man?
No one wants to, too much fear
Screw those presents! Where's the beer?
Ew-ew-ew! What the hell?
Ew-ew-ew! Zombies smell!
Up on the housetop, snipers cheer
They shot Santa in the ear
The rest can be found in pieces in the sidebar or in toto here. Woo-hoo!
Up on the Zombie
Up on the housetop, snipers pause
It's a zombie Santa Claus
Dragging a bag that's leaking toys
Ignored by undead girls and boys
Ew-ew-ew! What the hell?
Ew-ew-ew! Don't he smell?
Up on the housetop, snipers fire
Santa's head goes like a tire
First, should we go out to recon?
Oh, survivors, are they gone?
All those toys just out of reach
Maybe there's one for us each
Ew-ew-ew! What the hell?
Ew-ew-ew! What's that smell?
Up on the housetop, snipers wait
See if we will take the bait
Next we have to form a plan
Who will go out? Who's our man?
No one wants to, too much fear
Screw those presents! Where's the beer?
Ew-ew-ew! What the hell?
Ew-ew-ew! Zombies smell!
Up on the housetop, snipers cheer
They shot Santa in the ear
December 11, 2011
Dear Charlie:
Yeesh! This year's flyin!
I glanced up and realized it had been almost a month since I blogged. I'm the WORST at this keeping up thing. Admittedly, I've been hella busy lately, but that's no excuse. I mostly just haven't had much to say. Plus, with my inability to watch my Chiefs (thank you for NOT WORKING, Channel 7, and thanks for this mandatory digital TV crap that means you can't even watch a snowy static channel for glimpses of the action) has severely handicapped my desire to blurt game commentary. I do believe I've been stewing silently about it.
However, since I'm up unfortunately early on a bright, shiny Sunday morning to do some good works with a Joplin-restoring event dressed as my DickensFest character, and since the last night of DickensFest is right after that, I figured this was as good a time as any to check in. I shouldn't have any community theater-type projects until February-ish, so I feel a bit of a breather coming up, and I'm looking forward to it. I've been non-stop since, oh, August? September? I honestly can't remember, but it's been months. It'll be nice to have nothing but writing and sewing to do most evenings, though hopefully I'll be bored in time for all of this to start up again. Ha!
I even managed to fit a bit of My Gigolo publicity into the mix by doing a blog interview, but I'm not sure when it'll be up. I'll be sure to supply linkage when it's available.
But now, my darlings, I must don my gay apparel and do a bit of fa-la-laaing. Come out tonight and see our last night of DickensFest! We've truly topped ourselves this year, and we love to see all the new faces.
I glanced up and realized it had been almost a month since I blogged. I'm the WORST at this keeping up thing. Admittedly, I've been hella busy lately, but that's no excuse. I mostly just haven't had much to say. Plus, with my inability to watch my Chiefs (thank you for NOT WORKING, Channel 7, and thanks for this mandatory digital TV crap that means you can't even watch a snowy static channel for glimpses of the action) has severely handicapped my desire to blurt game commentary. I do believe I've been stewing silently about it.
However, since I'm up unfortunately early on a bright, shiny Sunday morning to do some good works with a Joplin-restoring event dressed as my DickensFest character, and since the last night of DickensFest is right after that, I figured this was as good a time as any to check in. I shouldn't have any community theater-type projects until February-ish, so I feel a bit of a breather coming up, and I'm looking forward to it. I've been non-stop since, oh, August? September? I honestly can't remember, but it's been months. It'll be nice to have nothing but writing and sewing to do most evenings, though hopefully I'll be bored in time for all of this to start up again. Ha!
I even managed to fit a bit of My Gigolo publicity into the mix by doing a blog interview, but I'm not sure when it'll be up. I'll be sure to supply linkage when it's available.
But now, my darlings, I must don my gay apparel and do a bit of fa-la-laaing. Come out tonight and see our last night of DickensFest! We've truly topped ourselves this year, and we love to see all the new faces.
November 16, 2011
Dear Charlie:
If you've read any of the movie reviews over there in the sidebar, you realize that I tend to give odd flicks a chance. Indie horror flicks, especially. Most times, that doesn't work out too well.
But once in a while, something really pops. Something that strikes my odd brand of fancy. Something that makes all the dreck worthwhile.
I've found like three of those recently. Four, even. I'm gonna talk about two here.
I tried to post some of this a couple of days ago, but the website wouldn't load and, for the first time in years, I lost the whole post. Suuuuuck, but I'll be copying and pasting before posting this time. Heh, fool me once, and all that.
I do want to at least mention the others I've enjoyed recently. Some are After Dark HorrorFest flicks, one is a Tribeca Films special, and another is from a first-time director. One of the ADHF ones was The Task, which I enjoyed probably because it spits on the concept of reality television. Seriously, give this one a watch. It's loads of fun. The other was Seconds Apart, which features Orlando Jones in a... *gasp*... serious role. I think I like it because he nailed it. Good times.
But the ones I really want to talk about are Grave Encounters and The Presence.
I almost passed on both of them.
Grave Encounters almost lost me because it's one of those "found footage" flicks, and I'm really, really tired of those. It got around that by having the main cameraman be an actual professional cameraman, so I let it slide. And I'm glad I did.
This takes the premise of those "ghost hunter" shows, but takes it to the worst possible scenario. What would happen if one of those teams went into a legitimately haunted place and actually caught blatant visual and audio proof of the supernatural? And what would happen if they couldn't get back out again?
It starts off like most of those shows -- setting the creepy scene and filming the creepy locale, but unable to show any real activity. It's all so subjective. They can get anyone to say anything, but most of the time, there's just nothing but "atmosphere". They even pay a groundskeeper (in a priceless scene) to make up a story about seeing a ghost and hire an actor to pretend to be a psychic, only to be hilariously impressed when he bullshits a story that happens to link up with what the caretaker had already told them. It's actually kinda fun at this point.
And then... stuff starts happening. Slowly, but building to a crescendo.
Better still? They didn't screw up the ending. In fact, I don't think they could have satisfactorily ended it any other way. It wasn't one of those pat "well, let's wrap this crap up and say... I dunno... they've actually been in Hell this whole time" or whatever. Call me a happy camper.
I dunno the Savage Brothers (other than that they have retarded haircuts), but they go on my list of people whose films I won't run screaming from in future. This time.
And then, in a complete one-eighty, I bring you The Presence.
This one almost lost me because the back blurb described it as a "dark romance". In my experience, those inevitably end sooooo cheesy. But... it's Mira Sorvino, and I've always liked her. So, I gave it a go.
This is a weird movie. I won't kid you on that. If you get bored easily, you won't make it past the beginning credits. I'm not sure how far into the film it was before a single line was spoken, but it was a damn long time. It takes balls for a director to risk that. Balls and confidence in the only two actors that have shown up thus far.
None of the characters have names. It sounds weird, but it works. It becomes clear that the man in the cabin isn't really there. When the woman shows up and completely ignores him, it's clear that he's not a corporeal being. But that's why there are no lines for so long -- he can't speak, and she doesn't know she's not alone.
And then she starts to get that feeling... and as it really sets in, her boyfriend arrives. Ratchet up the tension a notch. Here is where you start getting a feel for the characters. There are plenty of reasons she came to this place, and most of them have to do with being alone. I can dig that, though a lot of people wouldn't understand. But she's not as cold as she starts to act, and even the ghost guy is perplexed about why she's acting so strangely.
Until he sees someone else whispering into her ear. Whispering poison, whispering lies, whispering bittersweet reason and bullshit rationale that she can't help but listen to and react to.
But forget all of that. It's a fascinating story, though it may not sound that way as I've described it, but that's not why I think I've fallen in love with this flick. I fell for it because of the ending.
I cannot stress enough how important an ending is. For me, it'll make or break a flick. A bad ending will piss me off to the end of time. A good ending can salvage even a so-so movie and leave me with good feelings.
This ending is... ballsy. The whole flick is ballsy, but taking this particular track in Hollywood? BALLSY. It left me with such a good feeling after everything that had happened. This wasn't a darkly romantic tale (although I can see why they called it that because it defies any other pat explanation). This was... this was what horror movies have forgotten. What all the Saw flicks in the world can never understand or hope to duplicate.
It didn't need blood. Didn't need torture chambers. Didn't need ridiculously Goldberg device entrapments. This flick actually connected me to the characters so strongly that I felt more for their struggle and emotional pain than I could ever feel for any of those torture porn flicks I refuse to watch.
And this was the directoral debut. Seriously. Someone came in with a set of cajones the size of watermelons to get this one in the can and on the screen, and I'm glad for it.
I've been pretty disappointed in movies lately, but these four have really made the others worth the while. I'd watch a lot of Hobo with a Shotgun flicks to see one flick as good as any of these.
Good times.
But once in a while, something really pops. Something that strikes my odd brand of fancy. Something that makes all the dreck worthwhile.
I've found like three of those recently. Four, even. I'm gonna talk about two here.
I tried to post some of this a couple of days ago, but the website wouldn't load and, for the first time in years, I lost the whole post. Suuuuuck, but I'll be copying and pasting before posting this time. Heh, fool me once, and all that.
I do want to at least mention the others I've enjoyed recently. Some are After Dark HorrorFest flicks, one is a Tribeca Films special, and another is from a first-time director. One of the ADHF ones was The Task, which I enjoyed probably because it spits on the concept of reality television. Seriously, give this one a watch. It's loads of fun. The other was Seconds Apart, which features Orlando Jones in a... *gasp*... serious role. I think I like it because he nailed it. Good times.
But the ones I really want to talk about are Grave Encounters and The Presence.
I almost passed on both of them.
Grave Encounters almost lost me because it's one of those "found footage" flicks, and I'm really, really tired of those. It got around that by having the main cameraman be an actual professional cameraman, so I let it slide. And I'm glad I did.
This takes the premise of those "ghost hunter" shows, but takes it to the worst possible scenario. What would happen if one of those teams went into a legitimately haunted place and actually caught blatant visual and audio proof of the supernatural? And what would happen if they couldn't get back out again?
It starts off like most of those shows -- setting the creepy scene and filming the creepy locale, but unable to show any real activity. It's all so subjective. They can get anyone to say anything, but most of the time, there's just nothing but "atmosphere". They even pay a groundskeeper (in a priceless scene) to make up a story about seeing a ghost and hire an actor to pretend to be a psychic, only to be hilariously impressed when he bullshits a story that happens to link up with what the caretaker had already told them. It's actually kinda fun at this point.
And then... stuff starts happening. Slowly, but building to a crescendo.
Better still? They didn't screw up the ending. In fact, I don't think they could have satisfactorily ended it any other way. It wasn't one of those pat "well, let's wrap this crap up and say... I dunno... they've actually been in Hell this whole time" or whatever. Call me a happy camper.
I dunno the Savage Brothers (other than that they have retarded haircuts), but they go on my list of people whose films I won't run screaming from in future. This time.
And then, in a complete one-eighty, I bring you The Presence.
This one almost lost me because the back blurb described it as a "dark romance". In my experience, those inevitably end sooooo cheesy. But... it's Mira Sorvino, and I've always liked her. So, I gave it a go.
This is a weird movie. I won't kid you on that. If you get bored easily, you won't make it past the beginning credits. I'm not sure how far into the film it was before a single line was spoken, but it was a damn long time. It takes balls for a director to risk that. Balls and confidence in the only two actors that have shown up thus far.
None of the characters have names. It sounds weird, but it works. It becomes clear that the man in the cabin isn't really there. When the woman shows up and completely ignores him, it's clear that he's not a corporeal being. But that's why there are no lines for so long -- he can't speak, and she doesn't know she's not alone.
And then she starts to get that feeling... and as it really sets in, her boyfriend arrives. Ratchet up the tension a notch. Here is where you start getting a feel for the characters. There are plenty of reasons she came to this place, and most of them have to do with being alone. I can dig that, though a lot of people wouldn't understand. But she's not as cold as she starts to act, and even the ghost guy is perplexed about why she's acting so strangely.
Until he sees someone else whispering into her ear. Whispering poison, whispering lies, whispering bittersweet reason and bullshit rationale that she can't help but listen to and react to.
But forget all of that. It's a fascinating story, though it may not sound that way as I've described it, but that's not why I think I've fallen in love with this flick. I fell for it because of the ending.
I cannot stress enough how important an ending is. For me, it'll make or break a flick. A bad ending will piss me off to the end of time. A good ending can salvage even a so-so movie and leave me with good feelings.
This ending is... ballsy. The whole flick is ballsy, but taking this particular track in Hollywood? BALLSY. It left me with such a good feeling after everything that had happened. This wasn't a darkly romantic tale (although I can see why they called it that because it defies any other pat explanation). This was... this was what horror movies have forgotten. What all the Saw flicks in the world can never understand or hope to duplicate.
It didn't need blood. Didn't need torture chambers. Didn't need ridiculously Goldberg device entrapments. This flick actually connected me to the characters so strongly that I felt more for their struggle and emotional pain than I could ever feel for any of those torture porn flicks I refuse to watch.
And this was the directoral debut. Seriously. Someone came in with a set of cajones the size of watermelons to get this one in the can and on the screen, and I'm glad for it.
I've been pretty disappointed in movies lately, but these four have really made the others worth the while. I'd watch a lot of Hobo with a Shotgun flicks to see one flick as good as any of these.
Good times.
October 31, 2011
Awesome-sauce Update:
Gut-wrenching pull-out win in overtime by my Chiefs. Whew! Talk about a knuckle-biter!
Worse, since I don't have cable, I haunted NFL.com and Twitter for play updates. Hell, I was tempted to turn on the radio and try to find someone announcing live. Wah! This not-being-able-to-get-the-games thing is KILLING ME.
Stupid Channel 7. Stupid MNF going to cable TV. Gah!
...
CHIEFS WIN! WOOT! Four in a row, baby!
Worse, since I don't have cable, I haunted NFL.com and Twitter for play updates. Hell, I was tempted to turn on the radio and try to find someone announcing live. Wah! This not-being-able-to-get-the-games thing is KILLING ME.
Stupid Channel 7. Stupid MNF going to cable TV. Gah!
...
CHIEFS WIN! WOOT! Four in a row, baby!
October 27, 2011
Dear Charlie:
Holy crap! I blinked and October was over!
This is our last weekend of ghost tours, so hopefully things will slow back down a bit after this. I'm hoping for a weenie roast in the boonies before it really gets cold and, though we're doing Third Thursday in November, I'm also hoping we don't jump immediately into DickensFest. I need a breather!
I also need some time to just sit and sew. I have great ideas, but they don't do me much good in my head. Heheh. Gotta get out the ol' needle and thread, maybe Saturday during the day and definitely all day Sunday (maybe while watching the Chiefs game? please let me get Channel 7!) to see how far I can get. That way, I'll have a better gauge of how long it'll take me to do what I have in mind.
It's not like this stuff has to hold up to daily wear forever. But it does need to be durable enough for multiple promo opportunities, a few dress rehearsals, and definitely the actual DickensFest dates. Plus, I gotta be careful of my shoes when we do the Christmas parade again.
Last year, I had blood blisters completely covering the balls of my feet for WEEKS. Not doing that again. Nothing with a heel, dammit! I can surely do period-piece shoes without sacrificing my poor feet.
Oh! And I gotta pick up some thermals, but not until much closer to showtime.
...Since when is my blog a to-do list??
Yeah. Hope it calms down soon. *snickersnort*
This is our last weekend of ghost tours, so hopefully things will slow back down a bit after this. I'm hoping for a weenie roast in the boonies before it really gets cold and, though we're doing Third Thursday in November, I'm also hoping we don't jump immediately into DickensFest. I need a breather!
I also need some time to just sit and sew. I have great ideas, but they don't do me much good in my head. Heheh. Gotta get out the ol' needle and thread, maybe Saturday during the day and definitely all day Sunday (maybe while watching the Chiefs game? please let me get Channel 7!) to see how far I can get. That way, I'll have a better gauge of how long it'll take me to do what I have in mind.
It's not like this stuff has to hold up to daily wear forever. But it does need to be durable enough for multiple promo opportunities, a few dress rehearsals, and definitely the actual DickensFest dates. Plus, I gotta be careful of my shoes when we do the Christmas parade again.
Last year, I had blood blisters completely covering the balls of my feet for WEEKS. Not doing that again. Nothing with a heel, dammit! I can surely do period-piece shoes without sacrificing my poor feet.
Oh! And I gotta pick up some thermals, but not until much closer to showtime.
...Since when is my blog a to-do list??
Yeah. Hope it calms down soon. *snickersnort*
October 18, 2011
Dear Charlie:
I sometimes have the wackiest shenanigans. Though we're hip-deep in our walking tours this month, I just got all totted up in my Victorian Christmas clothes and participated in a photo shoot for DickensFest. Ha!
Apparently, we're getting some magazine play this time around, so they wanted their material a little earlier than usual. Or than we expected. Yowza.
As for the walking tours, they are going like gangbusters. We've had amazing crowds, and I think people are truly enjoying our little tricks. The first tour of the night is always entertaining and chock-full of fascinating facts, but during the second tour, you get that awesomeness PLUS a little creeping on the side. And oh, how we love to creep. *snerk*
We're also doing Third Thursday against this month, though a short, singing-less version because we're actually doing tours that night. Mostly, we'll be drifting wickedly through the crowds in full costume and make-up, creeping people right the heck out and passing out fliers.
Good times.
And yes, we are -- by necessity -- already thinking forward toward DickensFest. We already planned to do November's Third Thursday, but we'll for sure be doing promotion now. DickensFest last year was a great success, and I can only imagine this year's being bigger still.
So, I'm making a new costume. Yes, I still have the one from last year (sorry, Julia! I know I promised your skirt back, but things got so hectic!), but I have something else in mind. Something both more Christmassy -- just green, folks; don't get all excited; this humbug is still a humbug -- and more period. Good times.
Just gotta ger 'er done.
While doing all that other stuff. Heheh. Who needs spare time?
Oh, that's right. I do. At least, I do if I ever want to finish another book. Yeah, writing's been pretty slim pickins lately. The desire is there, even the words are there, but the time is not. Doesn't look to slow down any time soon, either, but I'm gonna make a more concerted effort to simply make time.
If my beloved sister -- wife, mother of three, full-time worker who is pretty much always on call, cook extraordinaire, housekeeper extraordinaire, etc. -- can make time to write every day, I truly have no excuse. Whew.
Oh, and this odd combining of Halloween and Christmas gives me another chance to spread my beloved Undead Christmas lyrics. Go forth and laugh your blarney stones off, folks.
Apparently, we're getting some magazine play this time around, so they wanted their material a little earlier than usual. Or than we expected. Yowza.
As for the walking tours, they are going like gangbusters. We've had amazing crowds, and I think people are truly enjoying our little tricks. The first tour of the night is always entertaining and chock-full of fascinating facts, but during the second tour, you get that awesomeness PLUS a little creeping on the side. And oh, how we love to creep. *snerk*
We're also doing Third Thursday against this month, though a short, singing-less version because we're actually doing tours that night. Mostly, we'll be drifting wickedly through the crowds in full costume and make-up, creeping people right the heck out and passing out fliers.
Good times.
And yes, we are -- by necessity -- already thinking forward toward DickensFest. We already planned to do November's Third Thursday, but we'll for sure be doing promotion now. DickensFest last year was a great success, and I can only imagine this year's being bigger still.
So, I'm making a new costume. Yes, I still have the one from last year (sorry, Julia! I know I promised your skirt back, but things got so hectic!), but I have something else in mind. Something both more Christmassy -- just green, folks; don't get all excited; this humbug is still a humbug -- and more period. Good times.
Just gotta ger 'er done.
While doing all that other stuff. Heheh. Who needs spare time?
Oh, that's right. I do. At least, I do if I ever want to finish another book. Yeah, writing's been pretty slim pickins lately. The desire is there, even the words are there, but the time is not. Doesn't look to slow down any time soon, either, but I'm gonna make a more concerted effort to simply make time.
If my beloved sister -- wife, mother of three, full-time worker who is pretty much always on call, cook extraordinaire, housekeeper extraordinaire, etc. -- can make time to write every day, I truly have no excuse. Whew.
Oh, and this odd combining of Halloween and Christmas gives me another chance to spread my beloved Undead Christmas lyrics. Go forth and laugh your blarney stones off, folks.
October 10, 2011
Musing Update:
My beloved sister mused recently on the pluses and minuses of living in the country and the possibility of relocating her family back in our hometown. I know I've muttered about it here now and again, usually when I've just spent some time down there in the boonies.
I can't help it. It's back again.
There are a million reasons it wouldn't be feasible for me to move back to the hometown. A MILLION. There aren't many professional, well-paying jobs in that neck of the wood for a single female. I have a great job now that I love and that pays well, and that would be hard to give up. High speed internet is few-and-far-between and expensive as all hell, and I very much hate the idea of giving that up. Yeah, I know.
I'm a lot more involved with community theater than I ever thought I would be and find, to my surprise, that I love it, and there's no community theater in such a small area as my hometown. I still have great friends here that I would miss terribly, that are as close as family, while I've gotten used to being away from those friends back in my hometown (which sounds kinda bad when it's written out like that, heh). I love bumping into them on the Fourth of July and such, but hey.
Etc. etc. etc.
On the other hand, one of the heaviest reasons for staying was my house, and that's almost a year gone now. While I'm happy enough in my apartment and extremely grateful to have it, I'm not particularly attached to it. My friends and my job, yes. My place of residence? Not so much.
Hometown football games. I really miss those. I loved rooting for my boys. I was my team's most devoted fan in high school and would love to be so again.
The great outdoors. Just being out in the boonies where it's more unusual to see a car than not, where people wave at each other when they pass on the road, where everything is six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon (you might not know someone, but you know someone related to them or who married into the family). Where you go to Gordon's Orchard to get your Halloween pumpkins and your winter apples. Where there are really only two grocery stores, and one's sort of a gas station, too.
Parades where you actually know the people and businesses represented. The rodeo. Riding horses at Dad's. Bumping into your old English teacher at one of those two grocery stores. Jump Stop pizza (and not much else, heh).
Oh, so many reasons to go home. Oh, so many reasons to stay home.
So yeah, I'm feeling torn. In my more logical moments (about 90% of the time), I reason with myself that I will always retire to my hometown. That would be a much better time for me to move back and truly enjoy the delights of the country. I wouldn't have to make a living, just enjoy it. I have too much to do here where I've made myself a little nook that I fit into quite nicely to leave just yet.
But oh, when I look around as I'm driving and see those oh-so-familiar fields of my youth. When I amble around the square before the annual fireworks display and feel so at home. When I lean against the corral fence at Dad's and reach up to pet the horses. When I stand on his back deck and look across at all that green, all that open space, all those gorgeous old trees....
It's like I'm two people. If only I were twins, right?
I can't help it. It's back again.
There are a million reasons it wouldn't be feasible for me to move back to the hometown. A MILLION. There aren't many professional, well-paying jobs in that neck of the wood for a single female. I have a great job now that I love and that pays well, and that would be hard to give up. High speed internet is few-and-far-between and expensive as all hell, and I very much hate the idea of giving that up. Yeah, I know.
I'm a lot more involved with community theater than I ever thought I would be and find, to my surprise, that I love it, and there's no community theater in such a small area as my hometown. I still have great friends here that I would miss terribly, that are as close as family, while I've gotten used to being away from those friends back in my hometown (which sounds kinda bad when it's written out like that, heh). I love bumping into them on the Fourth of July and such, but hey.
Etc. etc. etc.
On the other hand, one of the heaviest reasons for staying was my house, and that's almost a year gone now. While I'm happy enough in my apartment and extremely grateful to have it, I'm not particularly attached to it. My friends and my job, yes. My place of residence? Not so much.
Hometown football games. I really miss those. I loved rooting for my boys. I was my team's most devoted fan in high school and would love to be so again.
The great outdoors. Just being out in the boonies where it's more unusual to see a car than not, where people wave at each other when they pass on the road, where everything is six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon (you might not know someone, but you know someone related to them or who married into the family). Where you go to Gordon's Orchard to get your Halloween pumpkins and your winter apples. Where there are really only two grocery stores, and one's sort of a gas station, too.
Parades where you actually know the people and businesses represented. The rodeo. Riding horses at Dad's. Bumping into your old English teacher at one of those two grocery stores. Jump Stop pizza (and not much else, heh).
Oh, so many reasons to go home. Oh, so many reasons to stay home.
So yeah, I'm feeling torn. In my more logical moments (about 90% of the time), I reason with myself that I will always retire to my hometown. That would be a much better time for me to move back and truly enjoy the delights of the country. I wouldn't have to make a living, just enjoy it. I have too much to do here where I've made myself a little nook that I fit into quite nicely to leave just yet.
But oh, when I look around as I'm driving and see those oh-so-familiar fields of my youth. When I amble around the square before the annual fireworks display and feel so at home. When I lean against the corral fence at Dad's and reach up to pet the horses. When I stand on his back deck and look across at all that green, all that open space, all those gorgeous old trees....
It's like I'm two people. If only I were twins, right?
