01.14.09
Posted in Movies at 11:27 am by Josh
I know the film industry is in a bit of a lull (who isn’t?) but this is just desperate and destined to fail. And Jackie Chan? Filmed in Beijing? I mean, why not. Let’s just do away with all of the Japanese aspects of the movie altogether. They can live on a farm in Nebraska, Mr. Miyagi will be Mr. Denner and he can live in a backwoods shack, and Daniel can be Ernest and he can bitch-slap his way to the top of the local, “I’ma Kick Yer Ass, Boy” circuit.
After all, what’s a remake without a new interpretation.
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04.07.08
Posted in Movies, Random Thoughts, Quotes at 00:01 am by Josh
“‘Do not impede his journey fate-ordained;
It is so willed there where is power to do
That which is willed; and ask no further question.’”
~Dante Alghieri, Inferno
I am regularly moved by the story of Don Corleone, a fictional tale depicted in Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, notably made into an extraordinary triology in the early 1970s and into 1990. There is a subtlty to the story, though, which sets it apart from other gangster movies and it is the same subtlty that draws me to close to the rise and fall of Michael Corleone. You see, it wasn’t for power or for money that the Corleone empire existed; those were incidental bi-products, though they led to much strife and indirectly to the end of the era, so to speak. But those things never interested Michael Corleone. He had only one thing in mind, one driving motive to take the things he wanted from life, by force, if necessary: his family.
But what intrigues me most about Michael Corleone is not even his love for his family or his willingness to do anything to protect them. No, my interest is most piqued, my heart most moved at the end of The Godfather: Part III on the steps of the opera house. (Spoiler: you should have seen the movie by now anyway.) As Michael lay there next to his murdered daughter, in such agony that surprises even his ex-wife, I remembered something he said to her earlier in the movie.
“I loved my father. I swore I would never be a man like him, but I loved my father and he was in danger. What could I do? And then later, you were in danger. Our children were in danger. What could I do? You were all that I loved and valued most in the world. Now I’m losing you. I lost you. You’re gone. And it was all for nothing…You have to understand, I had a whole different destiny planned.”
Michael Corleone made sacrifices — horrible sacrifices that dramatically affected, sometimes even eliminated, the lives of those around him — and he did it for his family. The fullness of his love for them caused him to take the world into his own hands, to plan out his own destiny. I think there are few among us who do not, at some level, do the same.
The humanity in Michael Corleone, however, does not stop at his tightening his grip on the world he refuses to let slip through his fingers. It comes from the fact that it slips through anyway. It leaves the question for all of us, what, if anything, can we control in the first place? After a life time of murder in the name of protection, Don Corleone learns the hard way, as many of us do, that there are very few things under our command.
We heard a bit about predestination in church today taking the following into consideration:
1:5 he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will,
~Ephesians 1:5
Notwithstanding the ins and the outs of it, our destinies are predetermined. Where does that leave us? With such power as given by God, with the ability to manipulate these letters to form words, with the authority to choose what I eat for dinner or where I take my rest and even whether or not to sin, to rebel against the Highest Power of all, the idea that anything is out of our control is difficult to wrestle with. How, then, are we to cope when things are going exactly the opposite of the way we would like?
The answer rests in trust. We must trust God in all things. We must let Him guide us, bringing us to places we sometimes don’t want to go, places that sometimes don’t seem like places He would send us in the first place. There is no way to know for sure if we’ve done what we’re supposed to, but then we ought also to recognize that He has been following all along. This theme repeats itself countless time throughout the Bible, travesty after travesty of things that are terrible, and yet are righted by God. Of course, such faith can be difficult to have. Indeed, I often find myself saying, “I believe in God, I believe in Jesus and the salvation He offers, but how am I to believe that my life here on Earth will improve? What right to it do I have?” Well, I have no right. But somehow, the gift is there, anyway, if only I would believe.
For Michael Corleone, he didn’t have to order deaths or run rackets to protect his family. I think he learns that in the end. In fact, I think he learns it before the end, but doesn’t know how to get out. He tries, but it’s too late, at least for his family. But there is one comfort that even the Don can take: It’s never too late to trust in Jesus.
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12.01.07
Posted in Movies at 10:52 am by Josh
Where to begin except to declare this movie the worst interpretation of honest literature the silver screen has ever seen? Not only was the script atrocious, but the direction bastardized every decent thing about the classic, “unauthored” poem.
In the original text — no matter which translation you read — Beowulf is clearly a fearless hero who has a deep love for his kingdom and his people. He’s also a blossoming Christian, as are many other characters in the poem. And, of course, let’s not forget that Grendel’s mother is supposed to be the most hideous creature to ever walk the planet.
Instead, our director chose to make all of the characters sexually charged, polytheistic frat boys who have nothing better to do than drink beer and make inappropriate jokes. I couldn’t help but audibly express my disapproval when Beowulf proceeds to strip down stark-naked to fight Grendel. Once again, I could not help but groan when Grendel’s mother was gorgeous, nude, and unrealistically seductive.
What follows can hardly even be called “Beowulf”. (Plot spoiler coming up; don’t worry, I’m saving you money and two hours of your life.) Beowulf proceeds to sleep with Grendel’s mother, giving her a new child in exchange for unlimited ruling power so long as she still retains the dragon goblet. Of course, the child turns out to be the dragon which eventually slays Beowulf and we now have a story of a king who gave into his human weakness at the expense of his kindgom. We pick back up the original Beowulf story with the dragon showdown which ends up destroying our hero, but Mother Grendel lives to see another day, again, an artistic decision based on little more than a film crew that was clearly preoccupied with doing what they could to turn a classic piece of literature into a soft-core porno movie.
Still worse was the decision to use this film to berate Christianity rather than celebrate it. The original text celebrates the “new” religion and speaks largely in favor of it over polytheism. The movie, however, shows Beowulf blatently renouncing Christ and Judaism. And let’s not forget the lack of subtlty used for all of the burning crosses. Clearly, our director is not a big fan of church.
In case you still need instructions, don’t see this movie. It’s not even worth the 3-D. Hell, it wasn’t even worth the popcorn.
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10.22.07
Posted in Movies, Music, Church, Writing, Food, New York City, Life at 10:57 am by Josh
Happy Monday. Let’s run over the weekend, shall we?
Friday started as something of a nightmare as I tried to make it to Astoria in time to put the final monies down on the apartment. A manager at my job managed to royally f- something up and then pinned it on me to fix, even though he knew I had to get to my mailbox in Harlem and then the bank before it closed at six. So I did a hasty, rather careless job of fixing his mistake and then took off on a very slow 3 train for my uptown digs. I made it with fifteen minutes to spare, snatched the envelope and tore it open as I hauled @$$ to the bank across the street. Ten minutes to go. That’s when the teller told me she couldn’t release five-hundred of the dollars I needed. I protested. She repeated herself with that pristine, passive aggressive customer service apathy. I argued. She remained calm. That made me angry. I spoke to a manager, then a regional manager (who happened to be in the wrong bank on the wrong day). All to no avail. I was $500 short.
Outside, waiting for the M60 bus, I realized I was going to be late because no buses were coming. I had to call the broker and tell him that I would be late for our meeting with the landlord and I’d be short a chunk of money. Thank You, God, he was very accommodating. When the M60 finally showed up I had the most awesomest driver ever, steadfastly decreeing that, no matter the traffic (or the eventual accident on the Triboro Bridge), “Tonight, everyone gets to Queens”. I told him he was my favorite bus driver ever.
So I signed the lease and then went to Luke’s to unwind with a little Octoberfest and discussion about — you guessed it — God. (Does anyone ever talk to Luke about anything else?) His wife gave me half of her microwave pizza for dinner, which was very welcome after schlepping about in the rain and heat and all of that jive.
I got home at twelve-thirty or so and thought that I would go to bed because I was beat tired. That’s when my door burst open (I’m going to have to start locking that thing) and Ally came storming in, perky as always, wanting to watch a movie. Being weak, I acquiesced. I also fell asleep. So did she. We were awakened at three in the morning by another neighbor, Nick, who had apparently joined us at some point. I realize now what I missed in college.
Saturday I fought writer’s block all day and lost. Miserably. So I turned to music and proceeded to play guitar and sing for five straight hours. Matt joined for the last two hours. It’s a wonder I can talk even now.
Yesterday was church with a “baptism lab” (listen to the mp3; Sam should hit Christian stand-up or something), followed by brunch at a lousy pub across the street from what used to be the Hudson Corner Cafe (the original brunch destination). Such amazing conversation and good company called for an extended day, so we went to Rice to Riches for rice pudding. I had the french toast flavor which was delicious and my friend had chocolate chip which was equally enticing. We sat in Washington Square with our bowls, waiting for our movie to begin. At quarter-to-five, we went to the Angelica to watch Feast of Love which turned out to be an absolutely brilliant movie with Morgan Freeman and Greg Kinnear. (Note: I want Morgan Freeman to be my best friend and next-door neighbor.) Then, alas, the day had to end, and I went home to critique manuscripts and ended up answering some questions for a neighbor about God and Christianity.
This morning I went to Astoria again to pay the balance that the bank wouldn’t release on Friday, and now I’m at work. It feels like a blissful, surreal whirlwind recently swept me off my feet and is only now gently planting them not so firmly on the ground again. Oh, sweet rapture. Don’t wake me up just yet.
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10.15.07
Posted in Movies, Music, Today, Restaurants & Bars, New York City, Writing, Food, Wine at 09:09 am by Josh
Another weekend gone. I suppose you’d like to know what I did.
Friday I ended up at Katie’s where we shared a fine Spanish-style rice with chicken and green beans, washed down with a deep red Bordeaux (completely ignoring any regulations for pairing wine with food). We’d hoped to follow up with some ice cream, but alas, the pint we got from the grocery store was skunked. Nothing but ice. Eventually, Matt came over and we jammed something awful for a while. I wish we had that one on file.
Saturday The Rents showed up and we went to the Ulysses S. Grant tomb & memorial, which I never knew existed. I wasn’t too excited about it, but it turned out to be pretty interesting. It was epic, if nothing else. You walk into one of those old marble buildings that looks like a miniature version of the Capital and directly in front of you is a large ring where you can overlook the basement floor. As you peer over, the light reflects just perfectly to see the names “Ulysses S. Grant” and “Julia D. Grant” engraved on matching polished tombs. Kinda creepy, kinda cool.
We later ate at Cafe Figaro which I absolutely do not recommend to anyone who is looking for good Italian food with good service. This place, apparently, chooses to provide only one or the other, but never both in the same visit. Because the waiter screwed up, I had to eat linguini with seafood. The problem is, I don’t like most seafood. So I swallowed the linguini, ate the shrimp and the mussels and finished off with a bite or two of calamari. Forget the squid. That’s just gross.
Sunday was church, followed by coming home to write…anything. I felt a bit of the writing bug, so I went to town on it, but got distracted by making marinara sauce (I used port wine this time and it was an excellent idea 
) and talking on the phone. Then Matt came over for a jam since we’ll be busy this week, and then my tres cool upstairs neighbor Ally came down and we watched The Nightmare Before Christmas.
And now I’m sitting at home, late for work, waiting for one of the lazy (expletive) who works in the building management office to get into work so I can drop off the check they told me four weeks ago I didn’t have to pay. Apparently, they forgot that agreement. I wish I could exercise selective memory for the sake of convenience.
Have a nice week.
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09.17.07
Posted in Movies, Music, Writing, Food, Life at 08:59 am by Josh
Katie’s new apartment was officially christened on Friday with a rather decadent party which saw my meatballs, Katie’s artichoke dip, Matty’s truffle, and Jessica’s something-or-other which I’ll have to show you a picture of because it looked almost as delicious as it tasted. It was semi-formal so we all looked quite nice, and when we went on the roof we looked so freakin’ high-class that we could have easily been mistaken for Hollywood coke-heads. Someone took pictures, I’ll have to let you know if I ever get my hands on them.
Dark Island was ravaged by my writing group on Saturday, culminating in the need to re-write the first three chapters. As it turns out, my writing skills are mediocre, at best. I’m hopeful that will change in the near future.
I saw The Hey on Saturday night which was kind of fun because the sound guy didn’t show up with the necessary microphones and it turned into a forty-minute drum/bass jam, compliments of Matt Gliva and Alex Who Plays The Drums. To top it off, the second band cancelled, so when the sound guy finally showed, The Hey still had time to play their full set. I do so love live music.
And Katie and I finally got around to Rob Zombie’s Halloween yesterday, though we were almost thwarted by a false advertisement on Movietickets.com. But quick thinking and mad navigational skills landed us in Times Square just in time to catch the half-hour of previews (wtf is that all about?). The movie wasn’t as good as I’d hoped. Zombie changed too many aspects of the original movie, making the Myers family a bunch of white-trash rednecks which was a neat idea, but didn’t really fit with the rest of Haddonfield. I’m also not sure how I felt about ten-year-olds cursing with quite the skill they did in the movie, nor am I fully comfortable with Lindsay knowing what Annie and Paul were going to do in an empty house. Laurie Strode wasn’t the same quality of goody-goody which was also kind of lame. Highlights, though, would have to include Malcolm McDowell as Dr. Loomis (did anyone else notice how perfectly McDowell mimicked Donald Pleasance’s voice?) and the inclusion of many key pieces of dialogue, like Loomis’ speech about evil and Laurie’s question about the Boogeyman, although the latter was poorly executed. And let’s not forget our favorite allusions: The Rabbit in Red strip club (as opposed to the hotel from the original), the two occurences of “Don’t Fear The Reaper” and the stealthily placed “Mr. Sandman”. All in all, “A” for effort, “C” for execution.
And now, back to work…
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09.09.07
Posted in Movies, Restaurants & Bars, Writing, Food, Life at 22:11 pm by Josh
It was a quiet weekend. After church, some friends and I ventured to Smorgas Chef for meatballs, mimosas, and some of the finest looking waitstaff the West Village has to offer. It was a fun-filled time, with much laughter and lingonberry. And, as far as I know, there were no celebrity sightings this time.
Also, as some of you will be pleased to know, I started on a second batch of arancello. As a result, Saturday night saw me amidst a host of culinary-related injuries, including a vegetable peeler cut to the thumb and a burn on my right hand, the latter unrelated to the production of arancello. In keeping with an Italian night, I was making marinara sauce, which I’ve done countless times before. What I haven’t done countless times before is fry the garlic for quite as long as I did. (I was hoping to get more flavor this way; it worked.) When I poured the tomatoes into the pan, it sizzled more than usual, and spat hot oil and some tomatoes onto my hand. The problem was, I was still pouring the contents of the can into the pan, making it impossible to tend to the burning substance on my hand. I grimaced and cursed before finally coming to a point where I could turn on the sink and cool down the injury. It burned for about a half an hour and left a nasty red mark on my skin. Battle wounds, I say. Nothing but battle wounds.
And now for a full up week — home group Tuesday, none of your business Wednesday, Halloween remake Thursday (yes!), Katie’s housewarming Friday, and the Official Butchering of Dark Island on Saturday (compliments of my NaNo writing buddies). And, of course, I’m still hoping to land a job interview in the midst of all of this.
I’m going to need a nap real soon…
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08.07.07
Posted in Movies, Announcements at 19:08 pm by Josh
I am SOOOOOOOOO freakin’ there! Who’s coming with me?
It’s been many years, Michael. Welcome home (again).
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07.30.07
Posted in Movies, Culture, Random Thoughts at 16:22 pm by Josh
This is taken directly from Movietickets.com, advertising Broken English:
MPAA RATING:(PG-13), for some sexual content, nudity, some violence including rape, language and drug use
I think it’s time we re-evaluate the rating system…
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07.05.07
Posted in Movies at 08:54 am by Josh
Last night I watched Stay which was full of noir-ish, Gen-X goodness. If you let the movie suck you in, you will actually find yourself momentarily questioning reality (mind you, that is a momentary questioning; anything further, and you should seek help). The problem is that the movie has enough bad writing to divert some people’s attention for the duration of the film. The directing was amazing, the acting was par or better, and the story was decent, although there were a few gaps here and there. Some clever moments of suspense keep you on your toes, even as you criticize the amatuer dialogue (not that I have room to talk) and the particularly unbelievable protagonist (not, might I add, the fault of Ewan McGregor who did the best with what he had. Shame on his agent.). All in all, I enjoy any abstract movie that ends on the Brooklyn Bridge, so I’m going to go ahead and recommend this film. If you don’t like it, write your own review 
I also watched March of the Penguins this weekend. There isn’t much to say about it, except that penguins are a little weird. It seems an awful lot of walking and hanging out in sub-zero temperatures just to hatch an egg and then do it again next year. It makes me thankful for changing seasons and mass transit.
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