Double Feature

Feels like ages since I've posted anything -- because it has been.

Had a momentous day today. Went to two different movies at two different theatres for (I think) the first time in my life. I may have done it in L.A., though I can't remember. Regardless, it's the first time in decades.

Pidge had mentioned how much she really wanted to see "Thank You for Smoking." I was lukewarm, but agreed, since she was right that she usually sucks it up when it's something I want to see, and it was my turn to do the same for her.

We drove down to Palo Alto (the CineArts, where it was playing on both screens, which struck me as odd) and ot there pretty much just in time. Big crowd (again, surprisingly), so we didn't have a great choice of seats. What we got were pretty good, although they leaned back so far I was a little uncomfortable, and the head of the woman in front of me occupied a tiny portion of the screen. (That said, it was good to see a movie on an honest-to-god big screen.)

(Odd coincidence. The ticket takers at both theatres were in wheelchairs. I've never seen that at all before, and to see it twice in one day was off. NTTAWWI.)

Anyway, we saw a number of trailers, most of which actually looked good -- I guess that's the benefit of going to an art house -- even one owned by Century. The feature finally started, and I instantly knew I was in good hands with a brilliant credits sequence. I miss credits sequences. They can do so much work for the filmmakers in setting a mood or a time or place. I was watching "Murder By Death" and "The Cheap Detective" last night (the latter of which I hadn't seen since it opened, and boy, does it hold up; much better than MBD, in fact) and both (each?) had credits by Wayne Fitzgerald, who was a god at such things, and a good set of credits is worth its weight in gold.

To continue. "Thank You . . ." is laugh-out-loud funny (a rarity, I find), and the thing that impressed me the most about it (and there's a lot to be impressed about) is that it has a conservative political bent and is still funny. I've often complained that, even as liberal as I am, I'd like to see some kind of conservative political statement in the theatre or movies. TYFS has the usual Hollywood cliches upended, with the corporate shills being the good guys and the do-gooder groups being the, well, not the bad guys, but putzes. It was a refreshing change of pace. I'm not saying I want to see every film be like this, but it was nice to see for once. Nicely written, well-directed (and good continuity!), with fine performances by Aaron Eckhart, J.K. Simmons (who is thisclose to reaching "Money in the Bank" status), Robert Duvall, and Bill Macy.

That said, Katie Holmes has reached the point in her career where she has no credibility on screen. Between her not-overwhelming acting ability, whatever the fuck is going on with Tom Cruise, and her youthful appearance, she has a -lot- to overcome -- and doesn't do it here. The second she appeared on screen, I cringed mentally. She suffers here from the same thing she suffered from in "Batman Begins." She's supposed to be a tough and accomplished professional, and looks 12 and has all the gravitas of Macaulay Culkin. She needs to get off the screen -- now. Oh, and if you're going to have significant amounts of dialogue about a character's awesome "tits," you have to do one of two things. Either cast an actress with awesome tits and have her show them, or cut the lines referring to them. Director Reitman did neither. The only time we come close to seeing Ms. Holmes's mammae is in one long shot where she's standing in an office in a very modest blouse showing nothing out of the ordinary. Contrast this with the attention paid to the ta-tas of Ms. Renee Graham as Tiffany, the corporate jet flight attendant, and the whole thing becomes a "wha--?" moment.

The film ended and it was back in the car to drive to Mountain View to see the film I wanted to, "Inside Man." I'd read a lot about it in the past couple of days, and wanted to see it early, before any potential spoilers reached me. We got to the theatre early and it was a much different experience. Huge lobby, 16 screens, a completely different demographic. (For example: One of the trailers at the CineArts was for "A Scanner Darkly," which is Richard Linklater's newest piece of vomit, using that computer rotoscoping technique that I find so annoyingly pretentious. I turned to Pidge and asked who the hell could watch this for more than five minutes. Well, I found out. The Century 16 has trailers playing on monitors throughout the lobby [seems too cavernous to call it that, but what else is there?], so the patrons can't go more than about 1o seconds without having their senses assaulted. They played the "Scanner Darkly" trailer, and the girls in front of us were -riveted-. When it finished, they both agreed that they -had- to see the picture. Different strokes, I guess . . . )

After about ten minutes in line, they let us into the theatre, which had a suspiciously large number of people in it already. We managed to get decent seats, though (even if both of us complained that they were extremely uncomfortable), and passed the time until the trailers started; this time, showing the usual selection of things I wouldn't see on a bet. Is it me or is it Hollywood? Anyway . . .

We both enjoyed the picture, even if I felt it was a little long. I also expected more twists and turns (from the reviews), but still found it satisdfying, even if there were the usual selection of plot holes. Like how does Clive Owen's character know what he knows? And when he is where he is, how does no one suspect it? Really well-directed, with a real sense of New York and location in general, and just a slew of good performances from Washington, Owen, Dafoe (good to see him not play a heavy), Plummer (who I can't believe I like now), and even Jodie Foster, whom I usually loathe, but is quite good - but then I'm supposed to loathe her character in this one, so it works.

Regardless, it was a fine afternoon of filmgoing, and I look forward to a couple more in the near future. Still have to see "Find Me Guilty" and "V for Vendetta."

Coming up? I'm doing a reading of a new play Monday at the Lorraine Hansberry Theatre in the city. I play a crotchety college professor who's locked into the traditional way of doing things. Sort of a continuation from "Oleanna." Darold (from "Miss Daisy") called and asked me if I'd be interested in acting in it, and I said sure; especially since there's a little dough involved, and I'll be working with Lorrie Holt, among others. And it may give me a line into finding a black actress for "Mrs. Bob Cratchit."

Tomorrow, it's dinner with the Rustans at a mystery restaurant that's the last gasp of my 50th birthday. Don't expect anything momentous to come of it, but it'll be the first time we see them without Schlomo since, hell, since Leisa got pregnant.

Maude Maggart

Got back a little while ago from seeing Maude Maggart at the Plush Room. What a singer! I admit it took me about five or ten minutes to warm up to her (I have an inate dislike for cabaret singers), but once I got her, I really got her. She's got an amazing ability to really inhabit a song and phrase it and communicate it. (The one flaw in her delivery [for me] is that she doesn't quite have all the chops yet to do with a song what she wants to do with it. According to her biography on her website, though (http://www.maudemaggart.com), she's only been singing professionally since 2001. Once she really gets her talent melded with her intelligence, there'll be no stopping her. Just an amazing singer. She's not Jessica Molaskey, but she's in that league. She's Fiona Apple's sister and Brandon Maggart's daughter.

I'm a big fan of Brandon Maggart, whom I know best as having played Buddy on the early episodes of Sesame Street. He was teamed with an actor named James Catusi as "Buddy and Jim," two guys who made Laurel and Hardy look like brain surgeons. They were hilarious to my 13-year-old eyes. I only found out about her father after I got home, and I wish I'd known. I bought three of her CDs after the show and got to talk to her as I was getting them autographed. I would have mentioned her father if I'd only known. I'm slightly tempted to go back later this week (I won't, but I'm tempted), and would definitely mention him if I did.

When I started this thing, I expected I would be reviewing and critiquing movies and TV and comics and pop culture and politics, but there's been unsurprisingly little of that. Suffice it to say that I rented Sin City (meh; very comic-booky and true to the material, but too long and I'm not Miller's biggest fan) and Layer Cake (nice complicated caper-type picture, but it failed for me in the climax when one of the pivotal characters didn't pass the "who the hell is that?" test; I still don't quite know who it was). I've been reading comics, and am running hot and cold on Infinite Crisis. I admired the ideas behind it -- at least based on what they were saying at WonderCon -- but am none too pleased with the treatment of Kal-L, the original Superman (this is hopelessly geeky, I know, but I just don't give a rat's ass). I'm enjoying The Amazing Race and am looking forward to the return of The Sopranos this weekend. What else am I watching? The 24, the Apprentice, the Veronica Mars, still watching the ER (god knows why), Deal or No Deal, Justice League, and not much else (Dave, of course). I'm sure there are other shows, but I'm punchy right now, and can't imagine why I'm not in bed (it's 12:20 am). I did watch the premiere of The Unit last night, and in spite of my liking of Mamet, found it vile. If it was serious, it was replusive in its politics and if there was a tongue-in-cheek element, it went whooshing over my head.

Just saw my nemesis Scarlett Johannson in a makeup commercial, exhibiting more range than in any movie I've seen her in to date. She had a horrible lipstick on (and with her mouth, it probably took two tubes), but maybe there's hope for her otherwise.

This has been one of those long-ass weeks for me. Seems like Monday was about two weeks ago. I can't wait to work at home Friday. There's a couple of meetings at work tomorrow; one is the monthly department meeting, which can range from actually interesting to chew-my-arm-off bad. The other is the semi-regular meeting with Stephanie (my boss) and the rest of the team. I don't expect any bombshells, but you never know.

We had an Answers meeting today, and it began with my admitting I didn't know how to set up a Twiki page, which everyone looked askance at. I did my best "Dammit, I'm old!" impression by saying, "Hey, I'm 50!" Not quite (10 more days), but close enough. Then on top of that, it suddenly occurred to us that all the other surfers on the product are "new," meaning hired within the last year. If that didn't make me feel old (and it did), nothing would. These damn kids with their rock and roll . . .

Still waiting to hear about DaveCon 2005. Hope we hear soon; I'd like to make my travel plans.

Came up with a plan for Pidge's 40th birthday in 2007 tonight. I don't know if I can pull it off, but if I can, it should be memorable -- and better than that surprise party they pulled on my 40th. I've been promised there'll be no surprise party for my 50th, so I'm hopeful, but who knows.

I'm Just Tired

Hasn't been a long week, but a jam-packed one. Pidge leaves for her mother's tomorrow morning, so I'll be a bachelor all week, but if that means anything anymore, it means, well, nothing. I'll read the paper, watch TV, be online and fall asleep on the couch downstairs. All in all, no change. I might take in a couple of movies, but don't expect to do much other than (hopefully) get some sleep.

We escaped the rain (more or less) today, but it's supposed to shower all weekend, which will further restrict me. Not that I had big plans, but still . . .

I do have work stuff this weekend, but other than that, JLU, and the Oscars, I got nothin'.