Frequently Asked Questions About Time Travel – How could you not watch a movie with that title, particularly when it stars Chris O’Dowd (The IT Crowd)?  It ain’t deep, and you’ll need a scorecard with all the time loops, but it is funny and entertaining.

Hanna – The reviews of this movie are perplexing, and a large reason why we never went to the theater to see it.  It isn’t just a “revenge thriller,” it isn’t just “adrenaline-pumping,” it is also an uneasy coming-of-age story, with much heavier fairy tale overtones – specifically Snow White – than the Brothers Grimm references that are actually written into the script.  It is beautifully shot, well-acted, and worth purchasing, not just renting.

Chalet Girl – Fluffy and unchallenging, but otherwise entertaining.  (Yeah, I use that word a lot, but it’s really my only requirement in a movie.)  Sk8ter girl learns to snowboard, wins the heart of the son of her rich employer, et cetera.  I told you it was fluffy.

Bunny and the Bull – There’s a subgenre of movies that just wander off into the surreal, leaving their audiences confused and annoyed in their wake.  This is almost one of them, but manages to keep things together long enough to evoke sympathy for the main character.  The story is told in weird little flashbacks, with probably a ton of subliminals that I was too busy to notice whilst working.  It is both a comedy and a tragedy, but worth the price of admission.

Submarine –  I love all things Richard Ayoade, and so contrived to sit through this entire film, even though it is full of the uncomfortable things that I typically eschew during my search for visual escape.  Yes, I want to go to magical places and see wonderful things, not wallow in the human condition.  The human condition sucks.  You know it, I know it, we all know it.  Anyway, don’t watch it expecting much funny, for it is sparing at best.  But if you were that awkward boy/girl at school, it may resonate.

Shades of Ray – I finished this movie not really sure of the writer/director’s message.  Are white people all secretly racists and can’t wait to eat pork and drink when their Pakistani husbands are away?  Are half-breeds only capable of happiness with other half-breeds?  Zachary Levi is charming, as always, and has great chemistry with the gorgeous – and already proven as awesome from the sadly-canceled show Life – Sarah Shahi, but he was actually in love with the fiance, wasn’t he?  And the fiance went from zero to racist awfully fast when she caught him in a compromising situation with Shahi’s character, didn’t she?   I still don’t know.  Nor do I care to watch it again to try and figure it out.

Fast Five – Despite the cardboard-quality acting – other than from Dwayne Johnson, who clearly enjoyed his role with some tasty A-1 sauce – it wasn’t quite as horrible as expected.  This may seem like the very definition of “damned by faint praise” but sometimes it’s good to just unhook your brain and enjoy the pretty pictures.  The stunt coordinators were obviously baked out of their minds – seriously, two Chargers dragging a massive bank vault through the streets of Rio? – but hey, if the studio is paying, why not?

Rango – Honestly, I couldn’t even get past the little play the lizard was doing while still trapped in his tank in the first five minutes.  Half the fun of using Johnny Depp in a role is the mobility of his face and body.  Using him to voice an animated character is just an enormous waste.

The Rebound – Moderately amusing, more charming than anything else.   Zeta-Jones is always easy to watch, but Justin Bartha steals it with his frickin’ sweetness.  I don’t remember this one hitting theaters but I’m sure dozens of ovaries spanged that day.

Ghosts of Mars – Mindless, stylish, good soundtrack, and people’s heads cut off via unerringly thrown saw blades.  Sounds just like a John Carpenter movie, non?

Just Peck – When describing this to Husband, I called it “a John Hughes movie for the Aught Generation.”  (Don’t steal that.)  It showcases the absurdity of both today’s touchy-feely parenting, and the school system’s paranoid reactions to typical teen-age behavior.  It doesn’t have quite the humor quotient of a Hughes flick but it still is a worthy scion.

Cake – I know a script doesn’t always start out bad, it can be made that way in the process, or even in the post editing.  Whatever the case, this one stinks.  Packed with loathesome characters – seriously, when you can make me hate Sarah Chalke, you’ve Done Wrong – whose motivation to change is sorta lobbed out there, and then abandoned until VOILA there is change.  No, I was right; this script was just bad.

Daybreakers – A little different than your typical vampire movie, in that 95% of the world is now vamped, and they’re running out of blood sources.  That was enough to make me ignore the presence of the vastly annoying Ethan Hawke until I got into the story.  I think I would have liked this far more as a book though, as there were some plot points that I would like to have seen explored far more deeply, such as the relationship between the Bad Guy and his rebel daughter.  Still, a decent enough accompaniment to a bowl of popcorn.

Archer – I have successfully avoided this show for years now because it just didn’t look either original or entertaining (!) from the promos.  Upon watching the first episode I discovered it was utterly reprehensible…and hilarious.  Sometimes that’s all you need.

The Warrior’s Way – This is a great, steaming comic book of a movie, with a crapload of greenscreen and wire work.  It is a good story though, and I always like seeing samurai and ninjas in the Wild West.

Bridesmaids - I don’t know who started this trend of films featuring the most awkward and unsympathetic characters imaginable, but I wish them the fate of eternal isolation in a tiny room with Lifetime movies on a playback loop.  (My guess is the vastly overrated Judd Apatow, but that’s another post.)  The only character in this movie worthy of any sympathy whatsoever is Chris O’Dowd – who has to be wondering what ancient gods he’s pissed off to have gone from The IT Crowd to this dreck – but even with that, by the end of the flick you just want the world to end in fire and blood and screaming.

Perfect Creature – Another non-standard vampire movie, this one is set in an alternate steampunk sort of future history, where vamps are a cult, er, religion to be worshipped.  Until they go bad, of course.

Hot Tub Time Machine – This is another sub-genre of comedy of which I am not a huge fan: the gross-out.  Instead of maximum awkwardness, this goes for shock and eww.  (Don’t steal that.)  It had laugh out loud moments, but I don’t think I’d tell anyone I actually watched it.  Well, except for you people.

Chaos Theory – Loved this, and not just for the toothsome Mr. Reynolds.  This movie does what Cake, Bridesmaids, et al, are all just too lazy and poorly written to do:  it shows the actual process of the  main character’s sea change, which by definition makes you more sympathetic to that character.  It also manages to be funny and sweet, two more things at which those other examples utterly fail.

My Name is Jerry – Sure, it was direct to DVD released, but that wasn’t because it sucked.  An unhappy guy with an unhappy job/life kind of stumbles into much-needed change.  I think I spent most of this movie worrying about the health of Doug Jones, though.  The man is cadaverously skinny.

The Baxter – I typically eschew movies containing schlubs, since there’s just not a lot of sympathy to be found there, but this one was charming.  Writer/director Michael Showalter’s schlub wasn’t the least bit apologetic, as are most schlubs.  He was quite comfortable in his own skin.  Michelle Williams was adorable, but I’m unsure she is capable of NOT being adorable.  The low point is Michael Ian Black, who has never in his existence been funny, but apparently is a particular friend of the director.  When he’s on just close your eyes and think of England.  Peter Dinklage, with a total screen time of surely less than three minutes, does what he always does:  utterly steals the show.

Ten Inch Hero – So very indie, and somewhat badly acted, but I still really enjoyed this movie.  The quirky employees of a hippie sandwich shop in southern California usually sounds like one of the Chinese hells to me, but somehow they managed to make each other more likable.

Horrible Bosses – Oh, how I resisted watching this.  Indeed, if it had been directed or in any way touched by Judd Apatow, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near it.  It falls somewhere between the gross-out and awkward subgenres, but was a bit funnier, mostly thanks to Jason Sudeikis.  He has that face, that ‘I could literally say or do anything and you would drop your panties’ face that we allllll remember from our twenties.  (Oh stop it, you know you knew a guy like that.  And you fucked him.)  Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves in the movie, except Jason Bateman.  I’m not sure what’s happened to him, but he hasn’t been funny since Hancock.  Oh.

After reading some of the stories from the previous two compilations, ie. what the editor likes, I am not hopeful about inclusion.  That’s fine, of course.  Expecting to have my very first completed and submitted piece published right out of the gate is naive at best.  Finishing the story in the first place — then going through the, er, delightful editing process — has been A Good Thing.  I very much like this character, and her alternate history, and will keep writing to see if something entertaining results.

I’m pretty sure Patience is going to invade my dreams, though, and kick my ass for leaving her hanging.

Each Knit Motorcycle sculpture explores the traditional icons of masculinity coupled with the traditional crafts of femininity (knitting), to create a new and disarming sculpture that challenges our preconceptions of what male and female symbols should be.

Um, no.  It’s a motorcycle cozy.  It’s awesome because of the time, effort, and skill required to execute.  It’s a helluva conversation piece, and I would indeed have it in my house.  But regardless of the florid language employed, it most certainly ain’t a game/world changer in the so-called battle of the sexes.

I understand the self-promotion required of artists:  if you don’t talk it up, who will?  And I understand the need to try and appeal to the pretentious yet moneyed lackwits who might just buy into your line of bullshit, order up their very own motorcycle cozy because they think it has Some Deeper Meaning, and spend weekends expounding thusly to their friends over a nice Stilton.

Doesn’t mean I like it one bit.  And I will never, ever participate.

Addendum:  I note, upon reflection, the “artist” is from Portland.  Nuff said.

That said, as tired as I am of the tract-bearing doorbell ringers I am equally as weary of their polar opposites;  the sneering pseudo-intellectual who lives and breathes the virtual vivisection of anyone who declares possession of faith.

Science is a tool. People shouldn’t treat it like a religion.

Religion is a tool.  People shouldn’t treat it like science.

Both cults need to get the fuck over themselves.

Hold me?

Side note:  there are few things that will kick your writing in the ass like reading a 600 page piece of dreck with a major publisher’s logo on the spine.  Seriously, was this thing even edited at all??

This? This is shit. Annoying, irritating, nauseating shit. It put all of us, who were previously in quite good moods, right out of temper.

On a good day I want to slap the piss out of most performance artists. Today I’d like to have a chat with this one with a baseball bat.

I finished the short story.

I edited the short story.

I feel bleh.

So basically if you’re a writer you’re happy for about twelve seconds after you finish something and all the rest is alcohol.

Constance swung the metal-encased clipboard with all her might, catching Waechter squarely on the temple.  He screamed, a curiously high-pitched sound, and she followed up with a smash to the face, noting the crunch of cartilage in his nose with satisfaction.

Heeeee heeeee heeee.

No, no, he wants the name of the first Star Wars episode.  ”I don’t know,” says I, “seeing as how they do not exist for me.”

I’m a well-known movie denier.  There were only three Indiana Jones movies.  Only two Alien films.   And alas, just ONE Matrix.  Basically, if you fail at extending the story – or simply rehash what has already been done – then your little movie doesn’t exist for me.   Simple, eh?  Yeah, until you – as a filmmaker – go publicly, spectacularly insane…

In a chat with The Hollywood Reporter (via /Film), Lucas said, “The controversy over who shot first, Greedo or Han Solo, in Episode IV, what I did was try to clean up the confusion, but obviously it upset people because they wanted Solo [who seemed to be the one who shot first in the original] to be a cold-blooded killer, but he actually isn’t. It had been done in all close-ups and it was confusing about who did what to whom. I put a little wider shot in there that made it clear that Greedo is the one who shot first, but everyone wanted to think that Han shot first, because they wanted to think that he actually just gunned him down.”

George, you are a pussy.  I’ve always said you were a shite writer, but now, you’re a gutless worm to boot.

There are still three Star Wars movies, but now it is George Lucas who doesn’t exist for me.

Patience sits at 34K words….for about a week now.  I seem to be able to be very productive on it for a day or two and then I need to knit something.  Or paint something.  Etc.

This past week brought a further distraction in the form of the idea for a short story for Kerlak’s steampunk contest.  One day gave me 3400 words towards the 9K limit, so might as well see it through, eh?  Could be my very first rejection letter, woo hoo!

Would you like a taste of the New Story?  Why of course you would!

“Constance sounds amusing,” he said dryly.  “Perhaps I may have the pleasure of meeting her someday.  But we were speaking of Phillipe…”

She nodded happily.  She loved talking about Phillipe.  Though, there was something there, a note of unhappiness.  Where was Phillipe, anyway?  Her lessons should have started already…  The thought faded as quickly as it had come, and she recounted days of long walks and stolen kisses.  He watched her cheeks pinken as she described Phillipe’s gentle seduction.

Revolting cad, he thought.  Men should be forthright in their desires, not sneaking about ruining innocents.

Her story continued, as such stories do, with Phillipe growing distant after obtaining what he desired.  Her face became chalk-white in the telling, the memory clearly an agony.  The words came slower as the machine did its work.  She began to stumble over words, sentences trailing off mid-syllable.  He watched impassively.

She finally stopped speaking and went very still.  A trickle of blood slipped from her nose.  Her eyes stared at nothing.   The man switched off the little machine in his pocket.  He slipped a few banknotes under the tea saucer, collected his umbrella, and departed into the late afternoon drizzle.