Life experience is an unusual thing. When I was younger, I was very afraid of being boring. Even back then, I was very aware of the lifestyle some people lead, that of going to work, coming home and staring at the TV, then doing it again the next day. Weekends (if you get them, because many working poor don't have days off) you might go to the mall. Is there anything more despairing? To go to the mall as a recreational activity? This all just fell under "boring" to me, but looking back this was clearly a fear of the ennui and hopelessness of the modern condition. I was too young to articulate it. I think most people probably experience something like this. "There must be something better than this."
I'm going to speak primarily of my own experience (white trash), but I think it's probably similar in a lot of circumstances. When you start to realize that life is a sham, when you look at your parents and dread becoming them, I think that's where a lot of rebellion comes from. I don't necessarily need to point fingers, but I and a lot of people I knew were marginalized as bad, troubled kids for simply behaving in the only rational way given the circumstances: nihilistically. I wasn't able to frame this as a legitimate philosophy until years later, but that's really what it was. We lived for the moment with no regard for the future, which is truly nihilistic, because there was no future. We had seen it: the future was nothing. I knew a lot of people whose favorite film was Larry Clark's Kids, and they identified with and wanted to emulate it. That should really tell you something, since that film is a purely cautionary tale, if it's anything (I don't necessarily think it needs an agenda, it can just be a document). The kids who love Kids aren't missing the point, they're getting it better than anyone. Chaos is the only rational response to the lifestyle we are presented with.
Our parents had somehow accepted that life is what it is. It pains me to say it, but most people I grew up around had bad parents. Not always abusive, evil parents (although some did), just very incompetent parents. I feel bad for both sides of that equation. Your life is empty and meaningless, but you've accepted that as the best you can hope for. Your child lashes out and you're totally unprepared to deal with them, because you don't have an answer. "I want something better!" they say. And what can you give them? Nothing. They don't want to be you, because you've failed. I don't think anybody can articulate that this is what's happening, it just manifests as fighting. And it's not really a parent/child thing, it's a culture/child thing. The way we as a society live is wrong and pointless.
I don't want to overemphasize the teenage rebellion aspect of this, because I know teenagers can just be selfish and unpleasant sometimes, and I wouldn't want it to come back to haunt me, since I'm a father myself now. I just think that, while a lot of other things are going on, that's the age in which you first start to realize that life is bullshit. It's not an immature conclusion. Life really is bullshit. The mistake is forcing yourself to forget it. With alcohol, religion, soap operas, video games. Name your cliche. There is more to life than this, and the anger is justified.
To borrow a political analogy, they say if you're not a democrat when you're young, you've got no heart, but if you're not a republican when you're old you've got no brain. This condescending bit of garbage (for the record, no one should be either a democrat or a republican. Politics; now there's a beast that needs slaying) belies something about our culture. Passion is for the young. When you grow up you'll realize that you can't change anything. The best you can hope for is... what? Look down on the generation that comes after you.
Even this is changing. Our system is unsustainable, and you can almost hear the gears grinding to a halt. The generations that came after me, Y and Digital, have become known for their adoption of irony. Caring about something is anathema. Detached disinterest is the rule. Why? Because they're riding a wave that started back in the sixties. The youth back then really cared about things. They tried to change the system. They fucked up. It wasn't all their fault. The system is powerful. But that was the closest this country ever came to true revolution, it was bungled, and then everybody just decided that revolution wasn't possible. Every generation since has tried it and failed again, but they tried it because the system is wrong. Don't forget that. The rebellion is not wrong, the system is wrong. It's wrong, but it's a juggernaut, and it creates this message that if you disagree with it, you're just a stupid kid. Wrong. But it spreads this message and now, the current generation tries to "change the system" (quotation marks very much necessary) while acknowledging that they can't. The whole process has become so perverted as to be self parody.
What next? I can't predict the future. But it's obvious this can't go on. Probably the most important step is to stop listening to what culture and society tell you. It is wrong, your rebellion is justified, and these feeling are not for kids. If you've grown out of them, you've been chewed up, assimilated and taken your place. Stop it. Trying to change the system from within the system will never work. It's like RoboCop's fourth prime directive. Did you think you were an ordinary citizen? "You're our product. And we can't very well have our products turning against us, can we?"
It's not easy. I'm not talking about America or the West or capitalism or anything like that. All of it, every aspect of culture is driving us to suicide. This is a radical view, but it's correct, and I won't dismiss it because it's unpleasant or because all of society and culture is set up to fight it. The future is unknowable. The only way to find it is to start looking. Not everyone is cut out for this. Most will fail. I am cut out for it. I won't fail.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Thursday, August 15, 2013
"Oh, you can't get out backwards. Gotta go forward to go back. Better press on." - Willy Wonka
Recently, I've fallen in love with the films of Nicolas Winding Refn. "Recently" is kind of misleading, though, because I'd watched Bronson several years ago, and loved it. I saw Drive in the theater and loved that. And I just recently went to see Only God Forgives and was blown away. I didn't connect all these films as being from the same guy until walking away from the theater after Only God Forgives, but in hindsight, I don't know how I could have missed it. I knew Only God Forgives was a follow up to Drive, since it had been talked about as such, both films starring Ryan Gosling. When I realized this was the same guy who made Bronson, it made me appreciate all three films even more. Each is great on their own, but when you can identify the director's personal style, I think you appreciate his work even more.
I was intrigued enough to seek out more of Winding Refn's work, and watched Valhalla Rising. I knew, at that point, that I was a hardcore fan. Had I watched Valhalla Rising when it came out, I undoubtedly would have loved it but interpreted in context of Bronson, Drive, and Only God Forgives, it becomes even more impressive because you understand why you're seeing what you're seeing. By way of example, Valhalla Rising is an explicitly Jodorowsky-esque film, and because Only God Forgives was dedicated to Jodorowsky, I know that he was a major influence on Winding Refn, and the themes become more prevalent and recognizable. I just think it's a more complete film experience.
After watching Valhalla Rising, I watched Drive again. As much as I liked Drive when I saw it originally, it somehow felt like an even better film once I had an idea of Winding Refn's style. It's interesting, but the people who didn't like Drive seem to be people who just aren't really into film as a medium. Everybody likes movies, but people who are really passionate about film, really liked Drive. That doesn't just mean it was alluding to other films, Tarantino style, although it did do that, some. Just that, if you understand film making as a language, and films as personal expression, you understand what he was doing with Drive, and this is all the more true if you understand Winding Refn's language in particular. All the things that annoyed people about that film were done for a very specific reason. It's a carefully crafted, amazing film.
I'm alluding, in part, to auteur theory. The idea that the director is the primary author of the film, and that his or her personal style is the most decisive element of the viewing experience, shining through whatever other aspects of film making are involved. The more familiar you are with an auteur's work, the better able you are to recognize and appreciate these personal flourishes. Tarantino is a good example, since he's very popular and most people who are interested in film have seen all his work. Tarantino has a very distinct style, and while I can't succinctly describe it (maybe "mash up"), everyone knows a Tarantino film when they see it. Compare those films to True Romance or From Dusk Til Dawn, films he wrote but didn't direct, and you're looking at entirely different animals. It was thought in the past that the writer was the primary author of the film and that the writer's personal style was most responsible for the finished product. We have seen that this is not the case.
Some auteurs are very recognizable to all. Everybody knows what a David Lynch film is like. Or a Kubrick film, a Hitchcock film, an Ozu film, or a Cronenberg film. But can you spot a Soderbergh film by watching five minutes of it? Or Polanski? Or even Spielberg? These are trickier. Basically, I'm just struck by how much better you understand film, and thus, how much more you enjoy it, the more of it you watch. I'm in the midst of a personal project to watch every film Werner Herzog ever made. I'm learning to read Herzog's language, and each film of his I watch helps me appreciate them all, all the more.
Another, semi-related factor of your film language being improved by watching more films, is gaining new appreciation for old films. (I may digress a little here, but that's ok.) For example, I recently rewatched Bram Stoker's Dracula for the first time since 1997, and while I remember thinking it was "okay", holy shit, that movie is awesome. The film didn't change, I did. I was simply not prepared to appreciate the baroque madness of it. Gary Oldman meant nothing to me as an actor, I couldn't catch the subtle Legosi intonations of his accent, his Caligula giggle. Coppola was a foreign language to me, and I probably just thought "This movie seems way too over the top." without realizing that's exactly how he meant it to be. Watching it now, for vampire movies, I'd rank it with my favorites, along with both versions of Nosferatu, Let the Right One In, Shadow of the Vampire ,The Lost Boys, Interview With the Vampire. Keanu Reeves was still pretty bad, though. Also, notice how, with the possible exception of Murnau's Nosferatu and Shadow, those films all have pretty strong gay subtexts? Another thing I wouldn't have been able to appreciate without a more robust film knowledge, although that one also just has to do with life experience. As you get older you tend to understand things better, in any context.
I guess I'm saying that, while everybody knows you get better at something the more you do it, it also works with totally passive experiences, like watching movies. The more you watch, the better they get, and the better they get, the more you want to watch. Self perpetuation is its own reward.
I was intrigued enough to seek out more of Winding Refn's work, and watched Valhalla Rising. I knew, at that point, that I was a hardcore fan. Had I watched Valhalla Rising when it came out, I undoubtedly would have loved it but interpreted in context of Bronson, Drive, and Only God Forgives, it becomes even more impressive because you understand why you're seeing what you're seeing. By way of example, Valhalla Rising is an explicitly Jodorowsky-esque film, and because Only God Forgives was dedicated to Jodorowsky, I know that he was a major influence on Winding Refn, and the themes become more prevalent and recognizable. I just think it's a more complete film experience.
After watching Valhalla Rising, I watched Drive again. As much as I liked Drive when I saw it originally, it somehow felt like an even better film once I had an idea of Winding Refn's style. It's interesting, but the people who didn't like Drive seem to be people who just aren't really into film as a medium. Everybody likes movies, but people who are really passionate about film, really liked Drive. That doesn't just mean it was alluding to other films, Tarantino style, although it did do that, some. Just that, if you understand film making as a language, and films as personal expression, you understand what he was doing with Drive, and this is all the more true if you understand Winding Refn's language in particular. All the things that annoyed people about that film were done for a very specific reason. It's a carefully crafted, amazing film.
I'm alluding, in part, to auteur theory. The idea that the director is the primary author of the film, and that his or her personal style is the most decisive element of the viewing experience, shining through whatever other aspects of film making are involved. The more familiar you are with an auteur's work, the better able you are to recognize and appreciate these personal flourishes. Tarantino is a good example, since he's very popular and most people who are interested in film have seen all his work. Tarantino has a very distinct style, and while I can't succinctly describe it (maybe "mash up"), everyone knows a Tarantino film when they see it. Compare those films to True Romance or From Dusk Til Dawn, films he wrote but didn't direct, and you're looking at entirely different animals. It was thought in the past that the writer was the primary author of the film and that the writer's personal style was most responsible for the finished product. We have seen that this is not the case.
Some auteurs are very recognizable to all. Everybody knows what a David Lynch film is like. Or a Kubrick film, a Hitchcock film, an Ozu film, or a Cronenberg film. But can you spot a Soderbergh film by watching five minutes of it? Or Polanski? Or even Spielberg? These are trickier. Basically, I'm just struck by how much better you understand film, and thus, how much more you enjoy it, the more of it you watch. I'm in the midst of a personal project to watch every film Werner Herzog ever made. I'm learning to read Herzog's language, and each film of his I watch helps me appreciate them all, all the more.
Another, semi-related factor of your film language being improved by watching more films, is gaining new appreciation for old films. (I may digress a little here, but that's ok.) For example, I recently rewatched Bram Stoker's Dracula for the first time since 1997, and while I remember thinking it was "okay", holy shit, that movie is awesome. The film didn't change, I did. I was simply not prepared to appreciate the baroque madness of it. Gary Oldman meant nothing to me as an actor, I couldn't catch the subtle Legosi intonations of his accent, his Caligula giggle. Coppola was a foreign language to me, and I probably just thought "This movie seems way too over the top." without realizing that's exactly how he meant it to be. Watching it now, for vampire movies, I'd rank it with my favorites, along with both versions of Nosferatu, Let the Right One In, Shadow of the Vampire ,The Lost Boys, Interview With the Vampire. Keanu Reeves was still pretty bad, though. Also, notice how, with the possible exception of Murnau's Nosferatu and Shadow, those films all have pretty strong gay subtexts? Another thing I wouldn't have been able to appreciate without a more robust film knowledge, although that one also just has to do with life experience. As you get older you tend to understand things better, in any context.
I guess I'm saying that, while everybody knows you get better at something the more you do it, it also works with totally passive experiences, like watching movies. The more you watch, the better they get, and the better they get, the more you want to watch. Self perpetuation is its own reward.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
“The list could surely go on, and there is nothing more wonderful than a list, instrument of wondrous hypotyposis.” - Umberto Eco
I love to make lists. Always have. So I'm going to do a bunch of top ten lists today. I'm culling subjects from all over; my head, lists I've done before, old message boards, internet memes. I'm not going to order them, these will just be listed as they occur to me. I'm not going to do movies, because I just recently did a top ten blog for that, with explanations. I didn't include any comedies, though, so that's a good place to start.
Top Ten Movie Comedies
Kingpin
The 'Burbs
Pee Wee's Big Adventure
Billy Madison
Wet Hot American Summer
Hot Rod
National Lampoon's Vacation
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
Spaceballs
The Birdcage
This was a tough list to make because a lot of the movies which are funniest to me aren't exactly "comedies" in the strict sense of the word. I tried to keep this list in the realm of films which are pretty much only out to make you laugh, which is why I'm not including Rushmore, American Psycho, Groundhog Day, Happiness, Beetlejuice, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Ghostbusters etc. They all make me laugh hard, but are all doing something besides that too.
Top Ten Songs
Abraham. Road - The Residents
Come Alive - Doomriders
Dopesmoker - Sleep
I Put a Spell on You - Diamanda Galas
Into the Void - Black Sabbath
(The Only Good Christian is a) Dead Christian - Foetus
Hell's Winter - Earth
Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns 'n' Roses
Sympathy for the Devil - Rolling Stones
Unas Slayer of the Gods - Nile
I did this one and posted it on my Facebook recently. It's a couple weeks old now, and I still feel pretty good about it. The only change I'm making is swapping out "Return Trip" by Electric Wizard for "Hell's Winter" by Earth. Here's why: Electric Wizard is such an important band to me, because they were really my introduction to true stoner metal, which is a significant part of my life. "Return Trip" is a great song, but as to it being the best Electric Wizard song, no way. There isn't one. Listening to EW is an experience, you can't really single out songs. Earth is the same way, and while I wouldn't call "Hell's Winter" a song highlight for them, I did once get totally stoned and discovered profound truths about life and myself while listening to it, so for that reason, it would be better suited for this list, which is just about personal preferences and not really about objective quality. I could also easily have "One in a Million" instead of Sweet Child, I love both songs close to equally, but the solo puts Sweet Child over the top. The fact that's it's so hugely popular means my natural instinct would be to include the "controversial" and much less well known "One in a Million" instead, but I'll be honest and keep it as is.
Top Ten Rap Songs
"Earth People" - Dr. Octagon
"Black Steel In the Hour of Chaos" - Public Enemy
"Murder Was the Case" - Snoop
"Gimme the Loot" - Biggie
"Natural Born Killaz" - Dre/Cube
"400 Degreez" - Juvenile
"Born II Die" - Spice 1
"Method Man" - Wu Tang
"Fuck tha Police" - NWA
"Ruff Ryders Anthem" - DMX
This list was much, much easier for me to do. I can just rattle that off, and, not for nothing, I can rap all those songs from memory. I actually prefer the remix of "Murder Was the Case" from the film of the same name, but I'm happy with either version being on my top ten. The only caveat with this list is that I've always included "Nobody Move" by Eazy E, which is just one of the most absurd, hilarious things I've ever heard. But, much as I like the song, I'm really not comfortable overlooking the violent homophobia in it anymore, so I can't enjoy that song like I used to. Most of these songs glorify terrible things, true, but there's a difference between fantasy and reality, and while Ice Cube and Dr. Dre are not psychopaths, hatred and violence towards transsexuals is all too real, and perpetuated by things like this. So it's out.
Top Ten Bands
Earth
Sleep
Electric Wizard
Isis
Sunn O)))
Pentagram
Black Sabbath
Guns 'n' Roses
Monster Magnet
Acid Bath
Pretty easy, safe list for me. Sabbath almost seems like a waste of a spot, because if you like heavy music, you really shouldn't even have to mention them. G'n'R seem like the odd men out here, but I can never not love that band. Never. As I get into more and more heavy music, I can see this list changing. Monster Magnet may get pushed out, sadly, because they really fell off and have been not good for quite a few years now. Their early albums are just so great it will be a shame to bump them, but it's their own fault. Bands I've gotten into recently who I could totally see making this list in the future: White Hills and Earthless.
Top Ten Directors (active)
Werner Herzog
Errol Morris
David Lynch
Michael Haneke
Wes Anderson
Gaspar Noe
Harmony Korine
Takashi Miike
Joel Coen
William Friedkin
Honorable mentions to P.T. Anderson, Danny Boyle, David Fincher, Lars Von Trier, David Cronenberg, Ben Affleck, Frank Darabont, Quentin Tarantino and Guillermo del Toro. A couple of these guys are really old, so I'm sure some spots are going to open up soon and my inactive list is going to require some shuffling. Let's see if I can do a favorite film for each. Herzog: Aguirre/Fitzcarraldo, Morris: Mr. Death, Lynch: Blue Velvet, Haneke: Funny Games (remake), Anderson: Rushmore, Noe: Enter the Void, Korine: Mister Lonely, Miike: 13 Assassins, Coen: No Country For Old Men, Friedkin: To Live and Die in LA
Top Ten Directors (inactive)
Stanley Kubrick
Akira Kurosawa
F.W. Murnau
Fritz Lang
John Ford
Alfred Hitchcock
Orson Welles
Alejandro Jodorowsky
Pier Paolo Pasolini
James Whale
Similar to Black Sabbath, seems kind of a waste to include Welles, but it's true. What can I say? Jodorowsky is making some noise about a return to filmmaking, but for now I'd say he's still inactive. Favorites: Kubrick: The Shining, Kurosawa: Yojimbo, Murnau: Nosferatu, Lang: M, Ford: The Searchers, Hitchcock: Frenzy, Welles: Citizen Kane (sigh...), Jodorowsky: The Holy Mountain, Pasolini: Salo, Whale: The Bride of Frankenstein
Top Ten Cartoon Characters
Moe Syzlak
William Murderface
Daria Morgendorffer
Harley Quinn
Bugs Bunny
Lisa Simpson
Randy Marsh
Squidward
Zorak
Velma Dinkley
It's interesting that the first two characters that come to mind are two of the most self loathing sacks of shit in any cartoon. "Hey, hey, I may be ugly and hate filled, but... what was the third thing you said?" Also, between Daria, Lisa and Velma, I clearly like brainy girls. And Harley, too, I guess. She was insane, but she was a doctor, so she was clearly pretty smart. Bugs and Randy Marsh, while I never would have noticed it before making this list, are actually sort of similar. They're not particularly skilled or successful, but they're just sort of high on life and have this kind of joie de vivre that makes them lovable despite the fact that they're kind of losers. I admire them both. Zorak and Squidward are basically the equivalent of Stanley from The Office, so I can definitely relate to them. Take all these silly characters together, and you might actually get a sketch of my personality. That's why I like 'em. For this list, I included only characters with a well defined personality and presence. Minor characters like Futurama's Robot Devil are great, but a different sort of thing. And I could have easily filled up this whole list with Simpsons characters, so I wanted to avoid that. In fact...
Top Ten Simpsons Characters
Moe
Lisa
Krusty
Milhouse
Smithers
Mr. Burns
Barney
Sideshow Bob
Lionel Hutz
Kirk van Houten
Hard, but not too hard, to narrow down. I love Skinner and Chalmers, but in truth, they work best as a duo. Whereas, by contrast, Burns and Smithers are a great pair, but I think they work equally well on their own. Skinner is a pretty good solo character, and were this a top eleven, he'd probably be on it. The lovable loser is a great character, but I think Kirk van Houten does it a little better. Lionel Hutz is similar, but he's more of an unstable loser. "Care to join me in a belt of Scotch?" "...It's 9:30 in the morning..." "Yeah, but I haven't slept in days." Brother, I've been there!
Top Ten Comedians
Eddie Izzard
Louie CK
Doug Stanhope
Norm MacDonald
Dave Chappelle
Bill Hicks
Bill Cosby
Patton Oswalt
David Cross
Richard Pryor
Pryor and Cosby should go without saying, but I guess there's something to be said for including them on this list and not Carlin or Chris Rock or Eddie Murphy. All great, but it's a personal list. I did a list like this in draft format, five years ago, and I was able to wait until round two to take Louie (selected Izzard with my first pick). There'd be no way I could do that today. I'm guessing Louie would be the overall first pick in a comedians draft. Not that he doesn't deserve it. It's nice to see him blow up, as I've been a fan of his for many many years. I used to be a much bigger David Cross fan than I am now. I would have called him my overall favorite once. As I got older, I found him to be kind of a dick. I don't really disagree with most of what he's saying, but he's got a chip on his shoulder and he's kind of unpleasant. I don't blame him, growing up where he did. He's still very creative and funny, and definitely a top ten for me.
Top Five Quotations
"What is now proved was once only imagined." - William Blake
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” W.B. Yeats
"Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is." - Albert Camus
"Empty that which is full. Fill that which is empty. If it itches, scratch it." - Dieter Dengler
“Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.” - Franz Kafka
Top Ten Movie Comedies
Kingpin
The 'Burbs
Pee Wee's Big Adventure
Billy Madison
Wet Hot American Summer
Hot Rod
National Lampoon's Vacation
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
Spaceballs
The Birdcage
This was a tough list to make because a lot of the movies which are funniest to me aren't exactly "comedies" in the strict sense of the word. I tried to keep this list in the realm of films which are pretty much only out to make you laugh, which is why I'm not including Rushmore, American Psycho, Groundhog Day, Happiness, Beetlejuice, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Ghostbusters etc. They all make me laugh hard, but are all doing something besides that too.
Top Ten Songs
Abraham. Road - The Residents
Come Alive - Doomriders
Dopesmoker - Sleep
I Put a Spell on You - Diamanda Galas
Into the Void - Black Sabbath
(The Only Good Christian is a) Dead Christian - Foetus
Hell's Winter - Earth
Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns 'n' Roses
Sympathy for the Devil - Rolling Stones
Unas Slayer of the Gods - Nile
I did this one and posted it on my Facebook recently. It's a couple weeks old now, and I still feel pretty good about it. The only change I'm making is swapping out "Return Trip" by Electric Wizard for "Hell's Winter" by Earth. Here's why: Electric Wizard is such an important band to me, because they were really my introduction to true stoner metal, which is a significant part of my life. "Return Trip" is a great song, but as to it being the best Electric Wizard song, no way. There isn't one. Listening to EW is an experience, you can't really single out songs. Earth is the same way, and while I wouldn't call "Hell's Winter" a song highlight for them, I did once get totally stoned and discovered profound truths about life and myself while listening to it, so for that reason, it would be better suited for this list, which is just about personal preferences and not really about objective quality. I could also easily have "One in a Million" instead of Sweet Child, I love both songs close to equally, but the solo puts Sweet Child over the top. The fact that's it's so hugely popular means my natural instinct would be to include the "controversial" and much less well known "One in a Million" instead, but I'll be honest and keep it as is.
Top Ten Rap Songs
"Earth People" - Dr. Octagon
"Black Steel In the Hour of Chaos" - Public Enemy
"Murder Was the Case" - Snoop
"Gimme the Loot" - Biggie
"Natural Born Killaz" - Dre/Cube
"400 Degreez" - Juvenile
"Born II Die" - Spice 1
"Method Man" - Wu Tang
"Fuck tha Police" - NWA
"Ruff Ryders Anthem" - DMX
This list was much, much easier for me to do. I can just rattle that off, and, not for nothing, I can rap all those songs from memory. I actually prefer the remix of "Murder Was the Case" from the film of the same name, but I'm happy with either version being on my top ten. The only caveat with this list is that I've always included "Nobody Move" by Eazy E, which is just one of the most absurd, hilarious things I've ever heard. But, much as I like the song, I'm really not comfortable overlooking the violent homophobia in it anymore, so I can't enjoy that song like I used to. Most of these songs glorify terrible things, true, but there's a difference between fantasy and reality, and while Ice Cube and Dr. Dre are not psychopaths, hatred and violence towards transsexuals is all too real, and perpetuated by things like this. So it's out.
Top Ten Bands
Earth
Sleep
Electric Wizard
Isis
Sunn O)))
Pentagram
Black Sabbath
Guns 'n' Roses
Monster Magnet
Acid Bath
Pretty easy, safe list for me. Sabbath almost seems like a waste of a spot, because if you like heavy music, you really shouldn't even have to mention them. G'n'R seem like the odd men out here, but I can never not love that band. Never. As I get into more and more heavy music, I can see this list changing. Monster Magnet may get pushed out, sadly, because they really fell off and have been not good for quite a few years now. Their early albums are just so great it will be a shame to bump them, but it's their own fault. Bands I've gotten into recently who I could totally see making this list in the future: White Hills and Earthless.
Top Ten Directors (active)
Werner Herzog
Errol Morris
David Lynch
Michael Haneke
Wes Anderson
Gaspar Noe
Harmony Korine
Takashi Miike
Joel Coen
William Friedkin
Honorable mentions to P.T. Anderson, Danny Boyle, David Fincher, Lars Von Trier, David Cronenberg, Ben Affleck, Frank Darabont, Quentin Tarantino and Guillermo del Toro. A couple of these guys are really old, so I'm sure some spots are going to open up soon and my inactive list is going to require some shuffling. Let's see if I can do a favorite film for each. Herzog: Aguirre/Fitzcarraldo, Morris: Mr. Death, Lynch: Blue Velvet, Haneke: Funny Games (remake), Anderson: Rushmore, Noe: Enter the Void, Korine: Mister Lonely, Miike: 13 Assassins, Coen: No Country For Old Men, Friedkin: To Live and Die in LA
Top Ten Directors (inactive)
Stanley Kubrick
Akira Kurosawa
F.W. Murnau
Fritz Lang
John Ford
Alfred Hitchcock
Orson Welles
Alejandro Jodorowsky
Pier Paolo Pasolini
James Whale
Similar to Black Sabbath, seems kind of a waste to include Welles, but it's true. What can I say? Jodorowsky is making some noise about a return to filmmaking, but for now I'd say he's still inactive. Favorites: Kubrick: The Shining, Kurosawa: Yojimbo, Murnau: Nosferatu, Lang: M, Ford: The Searchers, Hitchcock: Frenzy, Welles: Citizen Kane (sigh...), Jodorowsky: The Holy Mountain, Pasolini: Salo, Whale: The Bride of Frankenstein
Top Ten Cartoon Characters
Moe Syzlak
William Murderface
Daria Morgendorffer
Harley Quinn
Bugs Bunny
Lisa Simpson
Randy Marsh
Squidward
Zorak
Velma Dinkley
It's interesting that the first two characters that come to mind are two of the most self loathing sacks of shit in any cartoon. "Hey, hey, I may be ugly and hate filled, but... what was the third thing you said?" Also, between Daria, Lisa and Velma, I clearly like brainy girls. And Harley, too, I guess. She was insane, but she was a doctor, so she was clearly pretty smart. Bugs and Randy Marsh, while I never would have noticed it before making this list, are actually sort of similar. They're not particularly skilled or successful, but they're just sort of high on life and have this kind of joie de vivre that makes them lovable despite the fact that they're kind of losers. I admire them both. Zorak and Squidward are basically the equivalent of Stanley from The Office, so I can definitely relate to them. Take all these silly characters together, and you might actually get a sketch of my personality. That's why I like 'em. For this list, I included only characters with a well defined personality and presence. Minor characters like Futurama's Robot Devil are great, but a different sort of thing. And I could have easily filled up this whole list with Simpsons characters, so I wanted to avoid that. In fact...
Top Ten Simpsons Characters
Moe
Lisa
Krusty
Milhouse
Smithers
Mr. Burns
Barney
Sideshow Bob
Lionel Hutz
Kirk van Houten
Hard, but not too hard, to narrow down. I love Skinner and Chalmers, but in truth, they work best as a duo. Whereas, by contrast, Burns and Smithers are a great pair, but I think they work equally well on their own. Skinner is a pretty good solo character, and were this a top eleven, he'd probably be on it. The lovable loser is a great character, but I think Kirk van Houten does it a little better. Lionel Hutz is similar, but he's more of an unstable loser. "Care to join me in a belt of Scotch?" "...It's 9:30 in the morning..." "Yeah, but I haven't slept in days." Brother, I've been there!
Top Ten Comedians
Eddie Izzard
Louie CK
Doug Stanhope
Norm MacDonald
Dave Chappelle
Bill Hicks
Bill Cosby
Patton Oswalt
David Cross
Richard Pryor
Pryor and Cosby should go without saying, but I guess there's something to be said for including them on this list and not Carlin or Chris Rock or Eddie Murphy. All great, but it's a personal list. I did a list like this in draft format, five years ago, and I was able to wait until round two to take Louie (selected Izzard with my first pick). There'd be no way I could do that today. I'm guessing Louie would be the overall first pick in a comedians draft. Not that he doesn't deserve it. It's nice to see him blow up, as I've been a fan of his for many many years. I used to be a much bigger David Cross fan than I am now. I would have called him my overall favorite once. As I got older, I found him to be kind of a dick. I don't really disagree with most of what he's saying, but he's got a chip on his shoulder and he's kind of unpleasant. I don't blame him, growing up where he did. He's still very creative and funny, and definitely a top ten for me.
Top Five Quotations
"What is now proved was once only imagined." - William Blake
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” W.B. Yeats
"Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is." - Albert Camus
"Empty that which is full. Fill that which is empty. If it itches, scratch it." - Dieter Dengler
“Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.” - Franz Kafka
Saturday, August 10, 2013
“In my opinion, there are two things that can absolutely not be carried to the screen: the realistic presentation of the sexual act and praying to God.” - Orson Welles
This was one of the funnier movies I've watched in a good long while. It presents itself as a documentary about Werner Herzog filming a documentary about the Loch Ness monster legend, but is actually a clever mockumentary; a film within a film within a film. Spinal Tap for cinephiles. I wouldn't call it as good, or as grand in scope as Tap, but that's definitely the spirit it's going for. There's a couple of interesting things about this. One, when it came out, I guess there was some mystery about whether or not it was a legitimate documentary, or they were at least being vague about it. I don't know, it seems really obviously fake to me. But then, I guess thousands of people believed Blair Witch Project was legitimately found footage, so I don't know. In any case, I knew it was fake before I watched it, and this didn't affect my enjoyment of it at all.
It's also interesting how funny the cast is, considering they are, for the most part, playing themselves. Zak Penn is a hilarious asshole as the writer/director. He really is a writer, of the vastly, vastly underrated Last Action Hero, the pretty okay PCU, and the unseen by me third X-Men, among others. He plays a writer who wants to break into directing, which he was, and this movie was his directorial debut. The camera and sound guys are legit camera and sound guys, but they happen to be very funny, natural actors. And of course, it's Herzog that ties it all together. I think Zak Penn said there was no other director they could have done this film with, and I'd have to agree. Herzog is funny, charismatic, and you could buy him working on almost any project, from Julien Donkey-Boy to Jack Reacher. This film is a gasser for Herzog fans. Hilarious references like "This is the most chaotic production I've ever been involved in. And I've been a part of some bad ones." *mutters* "At least I'm not dragging a boat over a hill." "What was that?" "Nothing." The legend of Herzog directing Klaus Kinski at gunpoint is alluded to when Zak Penn pulls a gun on Herzog (in this case a flare gun... which is unloaded). It's fun to see some of Herzog's real life friends in cameos in an early dinner party scene, like "Hey, here's Jeff Goldblum for no reason. And who could that be at the door? Why it's Crispin Glover!" It almost seems like Herzog just invited them over for dinner without telling them he was filming anything, much less a mockumentary, which may well have been the case.
As funny as Herzog is, Michael Karnow as the cryptozoologist steals every scene he's in. Even the boat's captain, who was not an actor, but legitimately the boat's captain, shines in this. He's got unteachable comic timing. Basically, this was a good idea that went off without a hitch, caught a lot of good luck, and the result is great, funny, very entertaining film.
I don't even know what to say about this. This was made at the same time as Even Dwarfs Started Small (reviewed below), and taken together, they show Herzog as either extremely pretentious, completely out of his mind, or both. I don't know what he was on about. Fata Morgana isn't even a film, really. It opens with five minutes of a plane landing over and over again. That tells you what you need to know. If you can watch that and enjoy it, you'll probably like Fata Morgana, and if not, you probably won't. I'd say it's really only for the Herzog completist, or for those coming down off ecstasy. It's shots of the desert (which I do like looking at, but not necessarily, you know, as a movie), accompanied by a reading from the Popol Vuh. I had read that Herzog considered this a collaboration between the director and the viewer; what you get out of it depends on what you bring to it. Knowing that, and since I could read the Popol Vuh excerpts on the subtitles, after about ten minutes, I muted it and put on Sunn O))) OO Void instead. It was awesome. I think Herzog would approve. As an aside, the original idea with this footage was to present it as being another planet. Re-appropriating documentary footage in this way was done years later in a couple other Herzog films, including the much better The Wild Blue Yonder, also reviewed later in this blog.
Okay, what the fuck? This is easily the most bizarre of Herzog's films I've seen yet. I've seen all sorts of significances and allegorical interpretations applied to this, but when I actually sat down and watched it, it just seems weird for the sake of weird. Which fits Herzog's personality. I really think he was just messing around. This was his second film. I haven't watched his first, Signs of Life, yet, but from all accounts it's good, and won him a lot of acclaim and respect. I suspect Dwarfs may have been meta-commentary. Starting small indeed. I don't know how far ahead Herzog planned, but I'm sure he knew he was going to be a great filmmaker. Maybe he just did this one as a sort of inside joke?
Anyway, the plot involves a revolt on a penal colony, with a 100% dwarf cast. Crazy shit ensues. A slaughtered pig. A van driven in circles for what seemed like forever, and finally down a hole. A pinned bug collection, dressed for a wedding. A crucified monkey. And the film closes with a kneeling camel ("Look how pious he is!") and one of the dwarfs laughing at this for what seemed like but couldn't possibly have been a good ten minutes, laughing so much and so hard that he started to cough and lose his voice. There's a lot of crazy laughter in this. There's a lot of shots of chickens doing odd things for not much apparent reason. Herzog is legitimately freaked out by chickens: "Look into the eyes of a chicken and you will see real stupidity. It is a kind of bottomless stupidity, a fiendish stupidity. They are the most horrifying, cannibalistic and nightmarish creatures in the world."
This film reminds me a little of Tod Browning's Freaks, not because there were a couple of little people in that too, but the tone is similar. It's sort of unsettling because it's just so aggressively strange. I haven't even mentioned the bizarre, warbling soundtrack yet. I don't know what to make of it. Considering he followed this and Fata Morgana, two of his objectively worst films, with two of the best films I've ever seen, not just from him, but from anyone (Aguierre: The Wrath of God and The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser), Herzog was showing, right from the start, that he couldn't be boxed in. He is, and was, his own master, and you will never get what you expect with Herzog. This might be a good one to watch high.
This is one of the best films I've ever seen. A lot of people say this is Herzog's best work, and while I'm not ready to go that far, with a few more viewings, I could see myself holding it equal with the twin masterpieces Aguirre and Fitzcarraldo. It is spectacular. This is the true story of Kaspar Hauser, who was chained in a cellar for the first 17 years of his life, completely uneducated, and having never seen the sky, trees, grass, or another human except for a mysterious man in black who fed him and, one day, deposited him in a town square bearing a letter (the text of which is recreated exactly in the film) which says, to paraphrase "I can't keep this boy anymore, take him and do with him what you will."
Kaspar's perspective, free from preconceptions we hold so deep we're not even aware of them, is really quite profound. It fascinates me the way he says something "dreamed to me", and moves me when he gets tears in his eyes and says "Mother, I am so far away from everyone." And when he asks "What are women good for?", it means something different than almost anyone else asking this. The film was apparently very accurate, with the exception of the actor Bruno S. being much older than the real Kaspar.
Bruno S. is much of what makes this film so incredible. We're seeing another example of Herzog's fiction films being as real as any documentary: Bruno S. was the unwanted son of a prostitute. He was often severely beaten as a child and spent much of his youth in mental institutions. He supported himself driving a forklift, but he was also a self taught musician and painter. He played 18th century style ballads on piano, glockenspiel, accordion and handbells, and his art was shown in exhibitions of outsider art. In an echo of Kaspar Hauser's "it dreamed to me", Bruno (whose real last name was Schleinstein) said he "transmitted" his songs, rather than singing them. Herzog saw a documentary about him, and cast him as Kaspar Hauser. There was some controversy in Germany at the time, that Herzog was taking advantage of an unfortunate, but I don't find that remotely true. By Herzog's own admission, Bruno was very distrustful of him, and had to be "listened to" for many hours on the set each day, to get him comfortable enough to act. You can still see him sneaking glances at the camera during the film, but rather than detracting from its authenticity, I think this adds to it.
The scene in which Kaspar is placed in a sideshow, the scene where a high society fop tried to take him on as a ward, and the scene where a professor tries to test Kaspar's logical capabilities with a riddle are among the finest movie scenes I've had the pleasure to watch. It is a wonderful film. Besides this one, Herzog made another film with Bruno S., Stroszek, which he wrote specifically for Bruno. It is also one of Herzog's most highly praised films, and I can't wait to see it; it will be in the next round of my Herzog completist project. So glad I took that on. For every Fata Morgana there's two Kaspar Hausers.
Incidentally, the German title of this film translates to "Every Man For Himself and God Against All", which is not only maybe the best movie title I've ever heard, but worthy of being a personal motto.
This was great. It's about ski flyer Walter Steiner, who was a carpenter in his day job. Ski flying (which I had not heard of before this film) is a more extreme form of ski jumping, where the skiers go much higher and farther. Steiner is the best in the world by such a wide margin that he has to start his jumps halfway down the ramp, lest he completely overshoot the landing area and fall to his death (which he comes within a meter or so of doing). I was reminded of David Foster Wallace's essay about Tracy Austin, specifically his discussion of the Greek idea of techne - a mastery of your craft so absolute that it becomes a communion with the gods. Walter Steiner has done this, and that's what makes the film so interesting (the fact that he's actually "flying" only drives the point home). Herzog doesn't really spell the implications of what you're seeing out so much, you just have to draw your own conclusions. You see Steiner injuring himself from flying so high and so far, shattering world records, sitting completely alone at the top of his... sport? Passion? And doing all this without even starting at the top of the ramp. What does it imply to be so good at something? I get overwhelmed in the presence of seemingly unnatural greatness sometimes, in significant and insignificant ways, everything from hearing Christina Aguilera sing, to some of the more intense Street Fighter tournaments. And it is that techne that affects me that way, that sense of tapping into something greater than yourself. (The ending of the last race in the Wachowski's Speed Racer [which was a great movie, I don't care what you say] gets me that way too.) Herzog understood that, and that's what Woodcarver Steiner is about. He has called it one of his most important films. It's available on YouTube in its entirety.
I debated whether to give away the secret to this film in my review, but I knew it before I watched it, so to properly give my reaction, I'll have to. (Spoiler alert)*** It's mostly fake. This was a "documentary" that Herzog fabricated out of whole cloth. That said, I would call it more of a psuedo-documentary, like a mockumentary, but not meant as a comedy. It's a fiction film shot in documentary style which expresses real truth. And in truth, the films of Robert J. Flaherty (Nanook of the North, Man of Aran), which were the first documentaries as we understand them, were also fabricated in this way, so Herzog was really only staying true to the format: it's not true, but it could have been. There are two sections of the film. One deals with a legend of a Russian city which was about to overrun by the Mongol Horde. The people prayed to God for deliverance, and God transported the city to the bottom of a lake. During a short time of the year, the ice is thick enough to support pilgrims, but thin enough that you can see the city through the ice on the bottom of the lake, and hear the bells of the church. The pilgrims shown doing this are actually two drunks Herzog paid to crawl around on the ice (the guy on the left in the picture there is actually passed out).
The second portion deals primarily with a Messianic figure who claims to be the second coming of Jesus Christ. Funny how he looks just like the white Jesus. He does a spot on imitation of the popular conception of Jesus, which was of course nothing like the historical Jesus, but that guy really is a revered religious leader, known as Vissarion, and he really does claim to be the reincarnation of Jesus, so this part isn't totally false. The name "Vissarion" (nor his real name) are used, so I'm not sure if he's appearing as himself or playing a character similar to himself. In any case, he's pretty charismatic.
Bells From the Deep is a fascinating film, true or false. It represents Herzog's exploration of Russian mysticism, and gets at the spiritual heart of one of the most interesting areas of the world. There are many fascinating scenes. You also get to see some great Tuvan throat singing, some Russian faith healers, some chanting pilgrims (who are really ice fishing). Good times.
This was a first in my Herzog journey. It just wasn't very good. It wasn't maddeningly weird or unapproachable like his other films I didn't enjoy as much. It just wasn't that good of a film. Appropriately enough, Herzog himself doesn't like this one much either, and doesn't consider it his film, because he didn't write it. Knowing that, it's kind of funny that he's the first person you see in the film, doing a cameo as the director of a televised rock climbing contest. Scream of Stone (I prefer the German title, pictured, even though the film is in English) is about a rivalry between a TV rock climber (...ok?) and a veteran mountain climber, and who will be the first to scale Cerro Torre. The dialogue is really bad, which I can forgive Herzog for, but it's also delivered really poorly, which he has to take some of the blame for. I actually thought it was dubbed at first, because everybody spoke in that peculiar, stilted way you hear in bad kung fu dubs, but no... that's just how they were talking. There were some good actors in this: Donald Sutherland and Brad Dourif. Dourif worked with Herzog several times, but it's too bad Sutherland was wasted in this. I would have liked to see he and Herzog work together on a better film.
I don't regret watching it, it was okay. Just not up to Herzog's usual standards. There are some spectacular helicopter shots towards the end. And Brad Dourif is legitimately really good and funny, as a sort of burn out who shows up out of nowhere several times throughout the film like "Whoa, man... like, you got any chocolate?" and he in fact has the titular line: "You're never gonna get up there. Cause Cerro Torre's not a mountain, man. It's a scream of stone!" I'm going to go ahead and spoil the ending because I'm not really recommending the film and the ending is an example of why not. Brad Dourif's character (who left four fingers and his name on Cerro Tore) claims to have climbed the mountain for Mae West. When our two rivals finally have their showdown, the young hotshot falls and the veteran makes it to the top, only to be horrified to find an ice axe stuck up there with a picture of Mae West hung on it. And my reaction was "Why is he acting so surprised? Oh wait, they didn't believe Brad Dourif when he said he climbed it before?" I just took him at his word.
An example of another Herzog/Dourif collaboration and of Herzog re-appropriating documentary footage. Dourif plays an alien who comes to Earth from a frozen water planet (the "wild blue yonder"). As an aside, I had to laugh when the film opened on the back of Brad Dourif's head, and he spins around all wide eyed, like "I come from the Andromeda Galaxy!" ("The Brad Dourif story!") But he tells a pretty interesting story about how his race came to this planet when theirs became uninhabitable, but that aliens basically suck and didn't really accomplish anything. He talks about how we on planet Earth wanted to do something similar; leave the planet and find another one we might be able to populate. This is intercut with footage of a real space mission, and when they arrive at Dourif's home planet (using time tunnels), they drill through the ice and swim around. This footage of the underwater alien world is actually a dive in Antarctica.
It's beautiful footage, and Dourif's story is interesting. I do think the film could have been a lot shorter, but it's still kind of hypnotizing. There's some great stuff here. When the astronauts come back from the wild blue yonder, it's 800 years in the future and humanity is long gone. The Earth has reverted to its primal state. The shot Herzog uses to demonstrate this is gorgeous:
A wonderful documentary of William Gibson riding around in the back of a limo, musing on life. Gibson really seems to have his finger on the pulse of society. He knows exactly where we are and where we're going. It was demonstrated to me recently that there are people (even nerds) who don't know who Gibson is. This is the guy who invented the word "cyberspace" (which is cool, cause it's a really easy to digest byte of information that lets you know how important and prescient he is), but if you haven't read Neuromancer you should stop what you're doing and do that instead. It will blow your mind, in more ways than one. You'll recognize it from elsewhere, for one, because of how influential it was. A lot of the stuff he was talking about will seem commonplace now, but remember, he wrote it before any of that existed.
Seeing him 15 years later in No Maps, he hasn't lost his edge at all. Talking about the Oklahoma City bombing, and how that affected him and what he thought of it, I thought it was strange he didn't cite 9/11 as an example of what he meant because it fit perfectly. Then I realized 9/11 hadn't happened yet. He was just right on the money again. It won't do for me to just describe the different things he talks about here, because you should really just watch it yourself (it is on YouTube, though segmented, there's not one big file with the whole thing), but he talks at length about technology, drugs and drug culture, modern society, and the way in which modern tech has advanced to the point that it is both inescapable and invisible, echoing the famous "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic". I love these ideas, and identify with them. Personally, I think magic and technology are just different ways of talking about the same thing: information. Everything is information and how we process it, and Gibson is right there with me on that.
Besides his personal philosophies, there's also lots of interesting information about his life and his writing. All of this was new at the time. I don't think he had really done much in the way of interviews before this, so I can't imagine what a gold mine this film must have seemed like upon its release. I give this my highest recommendation. Oh, and nevermind about that "Featuring Bono & The Edge" blurb on the cover. That really doesn't amount to anything. This is all Gibson.
The introduction of the nameless butcher who appears in all of Gaspar Noe's films, first as the protagonist of I Stand Alone, and then in cameo roles subsequently. Carne is typically twisted for Noe, if not quite as stylistic as his later work. It's short: 40 minutes. The butcher's wife leaves him with their autistic daughter, whom he develops incestuous feelings for, against his will, and perhaps because of this, on the day of her first menstruation, he misinterprets the situation, stabs a boy she had been seen with, and is sent to prison. The aftermath of his release from prison is the opening of I Stand Alone.
I love how Gaspar Noe uses huge "WARNING" title cards, warning of shocking content, then, without a second's pause, graphically shows a horse being killed and butchered. Gaspar Noe is absolutely one of my favorite filmmakers, but I don't think this early work compares to what he was going to do later. It's interesting but not truly great.
There was an episode of the German television program "Through the Night With..." where Harmony Korine (another of my favorite filmmakers) shows Gaspar Noe around Nashville. They did have a very, very tenuous connection, through Carne. There's a scene in The Wire where Johnny Weeks (played by Leo Fitzpatrick, star of Kids, the first film Korine wrote) described the opening scene of Carne to his pal Bubbles.
This was an amazing film. If Kaspar Hauser were not on this list, it'd be the best film in this blog by a wide margin. It's been called an essential 90s movie, which I'd say it is, but it's pretty timeless as well. From what I've read, it's an angry response to Thatcher's England, which, sorry to say, I only understand in the most general sense, so I couldn't really approach it on that level. As a character study, it's about nobodies. It stars David Thewlis, in easily the best role I've ever seen him in, as Johnny, a true bastard. He's charismatic and somewhat educated, or at least well read, but these qualities don't make him any better of a person. He uses his intellectual "superiority" to mock and brow beat those around him. He makes himself feel better by being "smarter" because he has nothing else to take pride or satisfaction in. He's cruel and selfish, but I, at least, still like him to a certain extent. It's disturbing to me how much I could relate to this character. I've been just like him. I almost feel shame. The female characters are definitely better people than the male characters, though no less broken.
What does it all mean, this depiction of hollow, broken people living hollow, broken lives? According to Mike Leigh: "My feelings about Naked are as ambivalent as my feelings about our chaotic, late twentieth century world, and probably as ambivalent as the film itself, which is, I hope, as funny as it is sad, as beautiful as it is ugly, as compassionate as it is loathsome, and as responsible as it is anarchic. But I really don't want to pontificate about this film. I'd rather let it speak for itself."
So says the man himself: make of it what you will. I think it's another signpost on the road to Hell, myself. Society, not just "modern" society, but all of it, everything, is dying, crumbling in on itself. Chaos and nihilism are the only viable responses, and it's naturally the intellectuals who see it first. The meaning is there is no meaning. In Naked, I can see parallels to (just among works I'm familiar with) Withnail & I, Trainspotting and Bret Easton Ellis' The Rules of Attraction. Although this latter is American instead of European, and deals with the wealthy instead of the poor, that drives the point home even further. The emptiness is universal, and inescapable. Other explicit influences include Hamlet and Jean Renoir's Boudu Saved From Drowning (one of Mike Leigh's favorite films). Thewlis's background reading included Candide, Gleick's Chaos, and the teachings of the Buddha.
Aside from the deeper significance of this film, I can't praise it enough as an entertainment. It truly is funny, and the dialogue is crackling. I wasn't familiar with Mike Leigh before this film, but apparently his style is to do lots of in character rehearsal and improvisation with his actors. It shows. Everyone is unusually good. There's no shortage of reasons to watch this film. So I'd advise you just do that and see what you think.
A melodrama from Nicholas Ray, who is most famous for Rebel Without a Cause. Rebel is the only one of Ray's film most people have seen, and was the only one I'd seen, before this. I know he's pretty well respected among cinephiles, and Goddard famously said "Nicholas Ray is cinema." I did like Bigger Than Life a lot, for a lot of reason, but I have to admit it felt pretty over the top, pretty Reefer Madness. That may be justifiable, though. The acting is good. James Mason and Walther Matthau are such distinctive actors as to be almost caricatures, but I believed them in their roles here, and Barbara Rush is probably the standout of the cast. Mason plays a meek schoolteacher, prescribed cortisone for a rare, life threatening condition, an inflammation of the arteries. Painkillers make him feel great, he starts to take too many, and absolutely loses his shit. Spoiler alert, but the climax involves Mason's young son trying to steal his cortisone because he doesn't like how dad's personality has been warped, and Mason decides to kill his family and himself. He reads aloud the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac, and his wife tells him "But you didn't finish it! God stopped Abraham." and Mason responds "God was wrong." with a nice "Dun dun DUUUN" musical sting. That really is pretty extreme.
On the other hand, though, it was 1956. The gee shucks Norman Rockwell nuclear family reality this depicts may not have been reality, but it was how American liked to perceive itself at the time. Everyone probably wondered what was wrong with their family, why were they so different, because they had (gasp) problems. Norman Rockwell wasn't reality, so maybe a little kick in the pants was appropriate. Because this wasn't entirely a Reefer Madness hack job. Prescription drug abuse was and is a real and dangerous problem, and while it's probably not going to make you kill your family, the message is a valid one. I can't imagine how shocking this would have been to a 1956 audience. If only there had been a film like this for casual alcoholism (Revolutionary Road would be written five years later, but how many read it?).
The film is also absolutely gorgeous. I watched the Blu Ray Criterion release and it looks good enough to hang in a museum. I love the 1950s as a period, just the clothing, the cars, the architecture, the vernacular and the way people carried themselves. It's all here. There's one scene with a breathtaking matte painting outside a hospital window (probably a disservice of the crystal clear transfer. You likely couldn't even tell it was a matte painting if the picture wasn't so sharp), and it made me realize how much I miss matte paintings and practical effects and the old style of film making now that everything's digital. Now you kids get off of my lawn.
“My
feelings about Naked are as ambivalent as my feelings about our chaotic
late twentieth-century world, and probably as ambivalent as the film
itself, which is, I hope, as funny as it is sad, as beautiful as it is
ugly, as compassionate as it is loathsome, and as responsible as it is
anarchic. But I really don't want to pontificate about this film. I'd
rather let it speak for itself.” - See more at:
http://www.emanuellevy.com/review/naked-6/#sthash.yls3qIAz.dpuf
“My
feelings about Naked are as ambivalent as my feelings about our chaotic
late twentieth-century world, and probably as ambivalent as the film
itself, which is, I hope, as funny as it is sad, as beautiful as it is
ugly, as compassionate as it is loathsome, and as responsible as it is
anarchic. But I really don't want to pontificate about this film. I'd
rather let it speak for itself.” - See more at:
http://www.emanuellevy.com/review/naked-6/#sthash.yls3qIAz.dpuf
“My
feelings about Naked are as ambivalent as my feelings about our chaotic
late twentieth-century world, and probably as ambivalent as the film
itself, which is, I hope, as funny as it is sad, as beautiful as it is
ugly, as compassionate as it is loathsome, and as responsible as it is
anarchic. But I really don't want to pontificate about this film. I'd
rather let it speak for itself.” - See more at:
http://www.emanuellevy.com/review/naked-6/#sthash.yls3qIAz.dpuf
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
"Mankind will die." - Mortician
I've decided to
pursue a career as a mortician. This wasn't a recent decision at all, but I'm
going to write a blog about it for a
couple reasons. One, by making a public declaration, I'm verifying to myself
that it's a valid goal and worth pursuing. Two, it is kind of an odd career
choice, and while I don't think it needs to be justified, I've been asked why
I'd want to do that, so I'm going to lay it out and demystify it for myself.
The idea came to me a couple years ago, and while I never really forgot about
it, it went onto the back burner while other things were going on, so I don't
want that to happen again, either.
One of the
simplest reasons I want to be a mortician is that, frankly, it doesn't seem
like a lot of people are suited for it. It's a necessary job, but not many
people can do it. For this reason, as a career, it's very stable. It's a field
that will never go away, will in fact only increase as our population still
only goes up, not down. The money is good. I won't be rich, but I don't want to
be. I'll be comfortable and secure.
It's an honorable
profession. It's time honored; preparing the dead for burial has to be one of
the oldest professions among humankind.
I might rank it: prostitute, priest, undertaker. The line with a religious
figure might be somewhat blurred, as
most burials are still religious ceremonies, I believe. But, in any case, I
would be stepping into a grand tradition stretching back as far back as most
anything in our culture. A mortician can also take personal satisfaction in
their work. They provide a service for people in what is probably one of the
most difficult times in their lives. A well orchestrated funeral can be a
crucial part of the grieving process,
and the mortician plays a major role in making that happen. I would take pride
and satisfaction in that.
Of course,
probably the biggest deterrent to the industry is the job itself: handling the
dead. The physical and emotional toll is
too much for a lot of people. I think I'd be good at this. There's a couple of
relevant quotes I like. First, from
Stephen King's Pet Sematary:
"There's
nothing natural about death. Nothing. You as a doctor should know that."[...] ...he reflected on the last thing she had
said and on the enormity of this difference of opinion, which had gone
undiscovered for so long. Because, as a doctor, he knew that death was, perhaps
except for childbirth, the most natural thing in the world. [...] Even sea
turtles and the giant sequoias had to buy out someday.
And from the philosopher Martin Heidegger:
“If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it
squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of
life - and only then will I be free to become myself. ”
These are close
to some of my personal philosophies. I am very comfortable with death as merely
a fact of life. I am not jaded and cynical, as some coroners and crime scene
investigators become in the face of death. I'm just aware of it as reality.
Death is the second most important thing you'll do, after being born. Circle of
life! I don't mean to be glib, but that really is how I look at life. I support
embracing pain and grief, fully experiencing them as part of being human. Many
cultures around the world practice this, and are healthier for it. Our culture
is stunted in its refusal to squarely face death, to hide from it and ignore
it. Because it's coming for all of us, and everyone we love. I could even see
how some would view that as a dark or even insensitive statement (like Rachel
Creed in Pet Sematary), but it really isn't. It's just an accurate statement.
And I think this world view, this personal philosophy, would suit me well as a
mortician. Another emotional obstacle morticians face is the general public
being put off by their profession. As I've mentioned, this works out great for
me, as I prefer to be alone most of the time anyway. I'm an introvert and not
very social. I keep a few close friends, but of course, a few close friends
won't be bothered by what I do for a living. If my work facilitates that, all
the better.
As to the
physical aspect of handling the dead, I just don't get bothered by things like
that. I guess that's something you're just born with, sometimes, and also
learned to a certain extent, but I could work with cadavers and not be
"grossed out" by them or what have you. Modestly, my professional
demeanor is also quite good and I feel like I could be comfortable and
comforting when dealing with the bereaved, if need be. On a personal note,
while I find human life to be a fascinating spark, the thing, funnily enough,
that makes life worth living, once it has passed, flesh is flesh. That's how I
see it. Our remains are nothing but a collection of bones and organs and flesh,
and I would view their preparation as the art it truly is. I would take pride
in the artistry of my embalming, the presentation of the flesh, each one a work
of art; a work of art for the most critical and most important audience: the
bereaved.
As to how I will
practically make this work: I don't like to discuss my current job much, just
because I don't have much to say and they don't like to be discussed in public
forums, but I work for a large retailer and I can take this job anywhere. It can
support me while I pursue my dreams. There are very few schools in the country that
actually offer a funeral science course, and one of them is, while not right up
the block, close enough to work. It's in Cypress, in southern California. I
will pursue a two year degree here, and look to transfer to the full time
mortuary science program in Cypress. It's close enough that I can come in and
spend time with my daughter on weekends and days off, and it's also just a
stone's throw from Disneyland, so I'm sure she'd enjoy visiting me down there
sometimes too. And, of course, I want to live next to Disneyland.
Once I have my
degree, I would probably move back up into the northern California area and
begin to practice. In large urban areas, trained morticians can operate fully
behind the scenes. They can handle and prepare the dead, and never have to deal
with the bereaved at all. I will hone my craft in this type of environment, and
later in life move far out into a more rural area. In small towns, morticians
have to hang up a shingle and run the whole operation, which is great, because
it plays into two of my other goals: owning my own business and living mostly
alone in a secluded, rural area.
And that's my
long term goal. I think it makes a lot of sense. It's the first long term goal
I've really had since, like, being a wrestler. It feels good. Now I'm just
going to get out there and make it happen.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
"Life sucks! And then you die!" - Vince McMahon
As you probably know, I love pro wrestling. I covered why that is in one of my first blog posts. I don't like sports. I don't like MMA. I can't explain why, I just don't get the appeal. I really tried to get into baseball once, I watched both of Ken Burns' baseball documentaries, and read Stephen King's baseball books. No dice. If Ken Burns and Stephen King can't get me to like something, I ain't gonna like it. Wrestling isn't a sport, of course, although it's in the neighborhood.
One thing that really speaks to me is authenticity. In any field; music, film, books, whatever. If something is real, I can usually appreciate it no matter what it is. All extremities of the human experience are interesting to me. It's why I'm such a huge GG Allin and Ed Wood fan. They were bad at what they did, but they did it with all their heart. That's all that matters to me. Pro wrestling is one of the realest things on Earth.
I know what you're thinking, but stay with me. In the sense of being legitimate grappling contests, wrestling is of course not real, but I don't know why people are still hung up on that. Wrestling hasn't claimed to be "real" in that sense in decades. I don't really need to explain this much further, but briefly: pro wrestling originated as basically a carny grift. If you think pro wrestling is a real athletic contest, you're probably the same kind of person who thinks carnival games aren't rigged. There are still people like that out there, surprising as it may seem, but wrestling, to most fans, would be more akin to opera or ballet. I doubt many would appreciate the ballet comparison, although it's a valid one. (Another funny thing about wrestling is that it's one of the most simultaneously homophobic and homoerotic spectacles I can think of.)
Basically, think of a Jackie Chan or Tony Jaa movie. Jackie isn't really outwitting a gang of bad guys, but he is really running up a wall and flipping a ladder around like he's a drum major with a baton. Tony isn't really back flipping off an elephant and fire kicking a guy to death, but he is really back flipping off an elephant and fire kicking a guy, then making sure he's OK afterwards. And that's wrestling.
Newbies say: "No way. Bullshit." Purists say: "Not wrestling. Bullshit." But it is real. Nothing in that video was fake, except in the sense that they planned what they were going to do beforehand. Is that fake to you? I submit that doing something like the following to yourself willingly demonstrates a personal conviction dwarfing that of any "legitimate" athlete:
The guy in the neon pants there is Nick Mondo. He had three broken bones going into that match, and what you just saw there ended his wrestling career. Then again, he was working at Blockbuster to pay his bills, so if you want to call that a "career", be my guest. Basically what I'm getting at is that wrestling is Project Mayhem. But, as noted, purists don't even call that wrestling. That sort of thing is what's derisively known as "garbage wrestling", and there's some validity to that. When viewed as a business, Hulk Hogan is undeniably the most successful American wrestler of all time. He made millions, and he never hurt himself too badly. He played the political game and won over and over again. He's a genius in his way, but is that really the ideal? Is he a warrior? A gladiator? There's a deeper side to wrestling. A darker side.
In carny lingo, a sucker is known as a mark. In a holdover from wrestling's carny roots, a fan who believes the storylines and buys wrestling as a legit contest is called a mark. A fan who knows the behind the scenes info and views wrestling as a scripted business is known as a smart. Fans ideally want to be a combination of the two, a smart mark, or smark. Smarks know the score, but can suspend disbelief and get caught up in the storylines, like watching a movie. Nothing wrong with that; nobody thinks Javier Barden really shot Kelly Macdonald in the face, but it's still an unforgettable scene. The thing is, though, the biggest marks are the wrestlers themselves.
Take, for example, the famous Montreal Screwjob. You can Google that if you're unfamiliar, but the short version: Bret Hart is leaving for WCW, but is WWF champion. WWF owner Vince McMahon wants Bret to lose the title to Shawn Michaels, who Bret legit hates in real life. Bret refuses to lose the title in Canada (he was doing a Canadian patriotism gimmick at the time). Vince agrees, but during the match, he has the bell rung and declares Shawn the champion without consulting Bret. Bret spits in Vince's face on camera and punches him in the face back stage. This is an example of Bret being a mark for himself. He was leaving the company Vince owned, and he had no right to tell Vince what he would or wouldn't do with the title Vince also owned. There's a place for furthering your own marketability by any means necessary (it's pretty safe to say wrestling is all politics), but nobody was feuding over a legitimate wrestling championship here. It's a prop the company uses to make money. The belt goes on whoever Vince decides will make him the most money. Can you imagine Mr. T telling Stallone he didn't want Clubber to lose to Rocky because he'd be letting his fans down? Of course not. But that's pretty much what Bret was doing. Almost all wrestlers are like this. And this brings me to one of the central points of this blog, and the two words that prove once and for all that wrestling is real: Chris Benoit.
Chris Benoit is easily one of the greatest wrestlers who has ever lived, as far as in-ring performance. He had zero mic skills, and no charisma except a kind of mad, single minded intensity. But he made up for that with his technical skills. As an in ring performer, Benoit is easily in the top three wrestlers of all time, if not the single best. He's that good, and it's really very difficult to overstate just how good. He will be remembered for killing his family.
Benoit modeled his wrestling career on a guy named Tom Billington, the Dynamite Kid. Dynamite Kid is also one of the greatest in ring performers of all time. I've rarely seen such a united opinion, but I don't think I've ever seen a single person say a single bad thing about Dynamite Kid's wrestling skills (except maybe that he sometimes "took liberties" [hurt people for real]), and, conversely, I've never heard anyone say a single nice thing about him as a man. He is truly a vicious bastard. An unlikeable, spiteful, mean, hateful man. He's confined to a wheelchair today, because he wrestled such a punishing, self sacrificing style. Last I heard, he uses a cocktail of uppers and pain killers to get him going in the morning, and downers and booze to get him to sleep at night. He spends his days on his porch, shooting at anything that moves. But man, could he wrestle. Like nothing you've ever seen. Benoit didn't know the dark side of Dynamite when he started to idolize him. He just saw a small guy, like himself, who was winning everybody's respect, and he wanted to be like him. Many even used to say Benoit had the potential to be Dynamite without the dark side. If they only knew.
Just in the way of back story, Benoit's doomed wife, Nancy, was originally married to Benoit's coworker Kevin Sullivan. Nancy was also a performer (under the name "Woman"), and she was Kevin's wife on and off screen. Kevin wrote a storyline in which Benoit stole Nancy from him. Due to spending so much time to together while acting out this storyline, Benoit actually stole Nancy from Kevin, and Kevin Sullivan was from then on known as the man who booked his own divorce. Fake?
Benoit's (there's no other way to put it) psychotic perfectionism drove him to abuse steroids, alcohol and drugs. By his own admission, he was totally straight before he got into the wrestling business. He wrestled the same style that put Dynamite in a wheelchair. He flew into rages and physically abused his wife. One night, he went too far and killed her. My interpretation of the events that followed is obviously speculation, as all involved parties are dead, but I think it's a pretty reasonable idea.
We know that Benoit killed his young, disabled son later that night. This was the part that baffled many who knew the Benoits; everyone said he loved and was devoted to his son. The way I see it, Benoit flipped out and killed Nancy, then when he came to his senses, he decided he couldn't face the consequences and that he was going to kill himself. He killed his son because he didn't want to leave him with dead parents. It was, to him, a sort of mercy killing, or "taking him with us". The story came out in the aftermath that Benoit's son had marks the coroner couldn't explain, until they saw footage of him wrestling, and recognized the marks as consistent with his finishing hold, the Crippler Crossface.
This was one of the most flabbergasting details of the whole sordid affair, and many wrestling fans couldn't believe it. It makes perfect sense to me: Benoit was not violently attacking his son in a rage like he had his wife. He was "mercy killing" him, and was undoubtedly filled with horrendous regret and self-loathing while he was doing it. His using the Crossface to strangle/smother his son is consistent with that. To make the act as painless (for himself) as possible, he may have used something that represented good times in his life. More likely, in my opinion, Mr. Soon to be living the rest of his short ass life in agonizing pain used the Crossface because he blamed the wrestling industry for the mess his life had become, and the symbolism was negative. Or it could be as simple as not wanting to scare the kid. They'd probably play wrestled many times, and the boy probably let himself be put in the Crossface without thinking anything was wrong. And then, when daddy pulled too tight and wouldn't let go, it would just be a few minutes of unpleasantness and it would be over. Whatever the reason, the medical examiner said it, not me. Benoit murdered his son with the Crippler Crossface.
He then hung himself on his weight machine, another symbolic strike at the wrestling industry, and the hell it had wrought. Benoit's death was determined to be slow and excruciating, but he stuck it out, so there was probably some significance to using the weight machine, which ties back into the way he used the Crossface. I'm sure he also felt like shit for what he had done to his family and most likely thought he deserved to die in pain like that. Either way, the story is this: Chris Benoit was in a wrestling storyline where he stole his coworkers wife, and he proceeded to steal his coworkers wife. He lamented the fact that wrestling had robbed him of his sobriety and his stability, and he ended up killing his wife in a rage. He then murdered his son with his own finishing move and tortured himself to death on his weight machine. Tell me what's more real than that.
Benoit is tabloid news, but lest you think I'm being sensational, I'll give you two more words that establish once and for all that whatever wrestling is, it ain't fake: Mitsuhara Misawa.
There's a cliche about wrestling: In Japan, it's a sport. In Canada, it's a tradition. In Mexico, it's a religion. In America, it's a joke. That's pretty well covers it. I'm not even going to touch upon the culture of pro wrestling in Mexico, because I know much less about it than I do Japanese, or American and Canadian wrestling, but rest assured, stuff goes on there that's as real as anything else I discuss in this blog. But I digress. Japanese wrestling is my favorite style of wrestling. I'm something of a Japanophile anyway, and Japanese wrestling, or "puroesu" (derived from an Engrish pronunciation of 'pro wrestling') embodies a lot of the things I love about the culture. They do everything to the extreme. Puroesu also doesn't suffer the "fake" stigma that wrestling has here. Their matches are scripted too, but nobody ever had a problem with this, and wrestling is totally mainstream entertainment. Wrestling stars are legit superstars, combining the best aspects of rock stars and pro athletes.
The Japanese approach wrestling with a bushido-like dedication, and they will destroy themselves for their craft. The Japanese, as I demonstrated earlier in the blog, can do the garbage style of wrestling better than anyone. They can also put on better storytelling, more athletic matches, and just generally do everything Americans can do, only better. Because they take it very, very seriously. Young wrestlers have literally been killed in the training dojos. The story goes that the Japanese wrestling industry is straight up run by the Yakuza. Because why not?
But all that is backstory to what I'm going to tell you about Misawa. Misawa was one of the most respected, biggest stars in puroesu. He rose to fame wrestling for All Japan Pro Wrestling, an absolutely legendary company, and eventually split off to form his own company, Pro Wrestling NOAH, taking many of AJPW's biggest stars with him. What I'm trying to establish is that this guy could draw like Hogan and work like Flair. He was The Man. One of the top figures in the entire wrestling world. He had some of the greatest matches of all times. Two of his most famous rivals, legends in their own right, were Toshiaki Kawada and Kenta Kobashi. Here are some clips of these three guys doing their thing:
Notice anything different? Can you imagine Hulk Hogan... or Steve Austin... or Ric Flair... or Sting... or The Rock doing moves like that? These guys are some of the biggest stars in the business, and they kill themselves, not because they have to, but because they believe in it. You might say "Well, they got to be such big stars by taking risks like that. They probably mellowed their style at the top. Like Mick Foley." Take a look at this:
That was in 2003, when Misawa and Kobashi were well established legends. That's one of the single craziest things I've ever seen in wrestling: Kobashi is taking a completely unprotected drop onto the back of his head from the entrance ramp, which is, there's no other word for it, unnecessary. Who are the marks?
Misawa was paralyzed in the ring. More than once. He came back. Misawa was struck blind in the ring. He came back. It seemed like the only thing that could stop Misawa is if he physically could not move (like Dynamite), or if he died. And sure enough, the worst happened. Misawa lost consciousness in the ring and died. They say he wanted to retire, but he never got the chance. One of the biggest stars in the industry literally killed himself for the fans. Tell me what's more real than that.
One thing that really speaks to me is authenticity. In any field; music, film, books, whatever. If something is real, I can usually appreciate it no matter what it is. All extremities of the human experience are interesting to me. It's why I'm such a huge GG Allin and Ed Wood fan. They were bad at what they did, but they did it with all their heart. That's all that matters to me. Pro wrestling is one of the realest things on Earth.
I know what you're thinking, but stay with me. In the sense of being legitimate grappling contests, wrestling is of course not real, but I don't know why people are still hung up on that. Wrestling hasn't claimed to be "real" in that sense in decades. I don't really need to explain this much further, but briefly: pro wrestling originated as basically a carny grift. If you think pro wrestling is a real athletic contest, you're probably the same kind of person who thinks carnival games aren't rigged. There are still people like that out there, surprising as it may seem, but wrestling, to most fans, would be more akin to opera or ballet. I doubt many would appreciate the ballet comparison, although it's a valid one. (Another funny thing about wrestling is that it's one of the most simultaneously homophobic and homoerotic spectacles I can think of.)
Basically, think of a Jackie Chan or Tony Jaa movie. Jackie isn't really outwitting a gang of bad guys, but he is really running up a wall and flipping a ladder around like he's a drum major with a baton. Tony isn't really back flipping off an elephant and fire kicking a guy to death, but he is really back flipping off an elephant and fire kicking a guy, then making sure he's OK afterwards. And that's wrestling.
Newbies say: "No way. Bullshit." Purists say: "Not wrestling. Bullshit." But it is real. Nothing in that video was fake, except in the sense that they planned what they were going to do beforehand. Is that fake to you? I submit that doing something like the following to yourself willingly demonstrates a personal conviction dwarfing that of any "legitimate" athlete:
The guy in the neon pants there is Nick Mondo. He had three broken bones going into that match, and what you just saw there ended his wrestling career. Then again, he was working at Blockbuster to pay his bills, so if you want to call that a "career", be my guest. Basically what I'm getting at is that wrestling is Project Mayhem. But, as noted, purists don't even call that wrestling. That sort of thing is what's derisively known as "garbage wrestling", and there's some validity to that. When viewed as a business, Hulk Hogan is undeniably the most successful American wrestler of all time. He made millions, and he never hurt himself too badly. He played the political game and won over and over again. He's a genius in his way, but is that really the ideal? Is he a warrior? A gladiator? There's a deeper side to wrestling. A darker side.
In carny lingo, a sucker is known as a mark. In a holdover from wrestling's carny roots, a fan who believes the storylines and buys wrestling as a legit contest is called a mark. A fan who knows the behind the scenes info and views wrestling as a scripted business is known as a smart. Fans ideally want to be a combination of the two, a smart mark, or smark. Smarks know the score, but can suspend disbelief and get caught up in the storylines, like watching a movie. Nothing wrong with that; nobody thinks Javier Barden really shot Kelly Macdonald in the face, but it's still an unforgettable scene. The thing is, though, the biggest marks are the wrestlers themselves.
Take, for example, the famous Montreal Screwjob. You can Google that if you're unfamiliar, but the short version: Bret Hart is leaving for WCW, but is WWF champion. WWF owner Vince McMahon wants Bret to lose the title to Shawn Michaels, who Bret legit hates in real life. Bret refuses to lose the title in Canada (he was doing a Canadian patriotism gimmick at the time). Vince agrees, but during the match, he has the bell rung and declares Shawn the champion without consulting Bret. Bret spits in Vince's face on camera and punches him in the face back stage. This is an example of Bret being a mark for himself. He was leaving the company Vince owned, and he had no right to tell Vince what he would or wouldn't do with the title Vince also owned. There's a place for furthering your own marketability by any means necessary (it's pretty safe to say wrestling is all politics), but nobody was feuding over a legitimate wrestling championship here. It's a prop the company uses to make money. The belt goes on whoever Vince decides will make him the most money. Can you imagine Mr. T telling Stallone he didn't want Clubber to lose to Rocky because he'd be letting his fans down? Of course not. But that's pretty much what Bret was doing. Almost all wrestlers are like this. And this brings me to one of the central points of this blog, and the two words that prove once and for all that wrestling is real: Chris Benoit.
Benoit modeled his wrestling career on a guy named Tom Billington, the Dynamite Kid. Dynamite Kid is also one of the greatest in ring performers of all time. I've rarely seen such a united opinion, but I don't think I've ever seen a single person say a single bad thing about Dynamite Kid's wrestling skills (except maybe that he sometimes "took liberties" [hurt people for real]), and, conversely, I've never heard anyone say a single nice thing about him as a man. He is truly a vicious bastard. An unlikeable, spiteful, mean, hateful man. He's confined to a wheelchair today, because he wrestled such a punishing, self sacrificing style. Last I heard, he uses a cocktail of uppers and pain killers to get him going in the morning, and downers and booze to get him to sleep at night. He spends his days on his porch, shooting at anything that moves. But man, could he wrestle. Like nothing you've ever seen. Benoit didn't know the dark side of Dynamite when he started to idolize him. He just saw a small guy, like himself, who was winning everybody's respect, and he wanted to be like him. Many even used to say Benoit had the potential to be Dynamite without the dark side. If they only knew.
Just in the way of back story, Benoit's doomed wife, Nancy, was originally married to Benoit's coworker Kevin Sullivan. Nancy was also a performer (under the name "Woman"), and she was Kevin's wife on and off screen. Kevin wrote a storyline in which Benoit stole Nancy from him. Due to spending so much time to together while acting out this storyline, Benoit actually stole Nancy from Kevin, and Kevin Sullivan was from then on known as the man who booked his own divorce. Fake?
Benoit's (there's no other way to put it) psychotic perfectionism drove him to abuse steroids, alcohol and drugs. By his own admission, he was totally straight before he got into the wrestling business. He wrestled the same style that put Dynamite in a wheelchair. He flew into rages and physically abused his wife. One night, he went too far and killed her. My interpretation of the events that followed is obviously speculation, as all involved parties are dead, but I think it's a pretty reasonable idea.
We know that Benoit killed his young, disabled son later that night. This was the part that baffled many who knew the Benoits; everyone said he loved and was devoted to his son. The way I see it, Benoit flipped out and killed Nancy, then when he came to his senses, he decided he couldn't face the consequences and that he was going to kill himself. He killed his son because he didn't want to leave him with dead parents. It was, to him, a sort of mercy killing, or "taking him with us". The story came out in the aftermath that Benoit's son had marks the coroner couldn't explain, until they saw footage of him wrestling, and recognized the marks as consistent with his finishing hold, the Crippler Crossface.
He then hung himself on his weight machine, another symbolic strike at the wrestling industry, and the hell it had wrought. Benoit's death was determined to be slow and excruciating, but he stuck it out, so there was probably some significance to using the weight machine, which ties back into the way he used the Crossface. I'm sure he also felt like shit for what he had done to his family and most likely thought he deserved to die in pain like that. Either way, the story is this: Chris Benoit was in a wrestling storyline where he stole his coworkers wife, and he proceeded to steal his coworkers wife. He lamented the fact that wrestling had robbed him of his sobriety and his stability, and he ended up killing his wife in a rage. He then murdered his son with his own finishing move and tortured himself to death on his weight machine. Tell me what's more real than that.
Benoit is tabloid news, but lest you think I'm being sensational, I'll give you two more words that establish once and for all that whatever wrestling is, it ain't fake: Mitsuhara Misawa.
The Japanese approach wrestling with a bushido-like dedication, and they will destroy themselves for their craft. The Japanese, as I demonstrated earlier in the blog, can do the garbage style of wrestling better than anyone. They can also put on better storytelling, more athletic matches, and just generally do everything Americans can do, only better. Because they take it very, very seriously. Young wrestlers have literally been killed in the training dojos. The story goes that the Japanese wrestling industry is straight up run by the Yakuza. Because why not?
But all that is backstory to what I'm going to tell you about Misawa. Misawa was one of the most respected, biggest stars in puroesu. He rose to fame wrestling for All Japan Pro Wrestling, an absolutely legendary company, and eventually split off to form his own company, Pro Wrestling NOAH, taking many of AJPW's biggest stars with him. What I'm trying to establish is that this guy could draw like Hogan and work like Flair. He was The Man. One of the top figures in the entire wrestling world. He had some of the greatest matches of all times. Two of his most famous rivals, legends in their own right, were Toshiaki Kawada and Kenta Kobashi. Here are some clips of these three guys doing their thing:
Notice anything different? Can you imagine Hulk Hogan... or Steve Austin... or Ric Flair... or Sting... or The Rock doing moves like that? These guys are some of the biggest stars in the business, and they kill themselves, not because they have to, but because they believe in it. You might say "Well, they got to be such big stars by taking risks like that. They probably mellowed their style at the top. Like Mick Foley." Take a look at this:
That was in 2003, when Misawa and Kobashi were well established legends. That's one of the single craziest things I've ever seen in wrestling: Kobashi is taking a completely unprotected drop onto the back of his head from the entrance ramp, which is, there's no other word for it, unnecessary. Who are the marks?
Misawa was paralyzed in the ring. More than once. He came back. Misawa was struck blind in the ring. He came back. It seemed like the only thing that could stop Misawa is if he physically could not move (like Dynamite), or if he died. And sure enough, the worst happened. Misawa lost consciousness in the ring and died. They say he wanted to retire, but he never got the chance. One of the biggest stars in the industry literally killed himself for the fans. Tell me what's more real than that.
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