Posting's light for the next few days, and has been light for the past ten or so, as I work with my brother Dan on his wedding stuff.
Their day is coming up on Sunday.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Monday, May 21, 2012
Jim Henson and the Loss of Complexity in Entertainment
In today's movie houses across America we can see the direction that the major film making institutions are heading, and from where they came. The current biggies are The Avengers and Battleship, huge budgeted action flicks, the heart of the summer blockbuster season.
The Avengers is, from what I've read, breezy and entertaining, for being a nearly two-and-a-half-hour movie about comic book superheroes. Populated by these super-powered and super-regular folks, a team of good-guys battles a bad-guy, or team of bad-guys, I'm not sure. I enjoyed the Iron Man movies and Thor, but haven't scene Capn' or the Hulk. Good-guys versus bad-guys, even while the teammates "battle" themselves, I hear anyway.
Battleship is about invading aliens and Earth's last stand, or defensive battle. While it's based on a board game that itself was based on a pencil and paper game that predates WWI, it seems to be original, as far as it's relation to the source material may be concerned. Originality is something that I go on and on about, especially when it comes to the film industry.
It seems like currently most major films are either sequels or based on some other well known source. In The Avengers you get a super-duper sequel that's also based on a well known source. Battleship is the next best thing: pure spectacle. Bonus points for being based on a game most folks 25 years old or older could recognize.
The things these types of movies have in common is that they're safe--safe in regards to their appeal for investors. The growing complexity in the special effects of these types of films make them increasingly expensive propositions.
Maybe the thirst for a more complex film is waning...
Super-heroes vs super-villains. Aliens invading. Summing up two of the major films in just a handful of words.
In 1990 the world lost a preeminent artist, a character himself that was able to touch so many and get them thinking. His technological innovations were always leading the pack, but his special effects were mostly limited what's known as in-camera applications--effects achieved in the real world captured on film, not added in post-production. I'm, of course, talking about Jim Henson, famed puppeteer and entertainer.
Puppetry is an art form that, on the whole in mainstream America, may be on the wane, overall. They did just make a new Muppet movie, and Sesame Street is still entertaining and teaching young people, but at the height of puppetry's mainstream popularity, the Muppets television show was a smart cutting edge comedy, various Muppet characters made appearances on late-night talk shows, an animated show was airing, and two separate children's shows were on television, one on Public Broadcasting, the other on HBO.
When Children's Television Workshop decided to hand over the reigns of their morning program, Sesame Street, to Jim Henson, the wider PBS having world was introduced to his brand of engaging topics and means of communicating those topics. In one early episode of Sesame Street Bert and Ernie are putzing around their house, and Ernie stops what he's doing, looks right into the camera, and calls Bert to come over, that they have a special guest. Bert joins him and both he and Ernie welcome "you" into their home, the proverbial fourth-wall breaking acknowledgement of the home audience. Meanwhile at home kids are looking around their living rooms as it say "me?", and a whole generation of kids are instantly connected and hooked.
Jim Henson's films and television show projects were filled with difficult concepts to wrap heads around, but not impossible concepts, and he would routinely challenge children and adults alike. He would extend the benefit of the doubt that his audience could get it in a way that would be far too daring to get major financial backing for today.
Let's for a moment take a look at Henson's best known commercial flop, Dark Crystal. Cries of it was too dark or too adult are the most lobbed of the criticisms, but technologically it was as advanced as anything ever made up until then. But Henson knew that the technology was only as important as it was helpful to the story.
I don't remember seeing the movie as a child, and watched it for the first time only a few years ago. I was taken aback by the deep complexity that the ultimate, overarching story. A large crystal has split and two types of beings have emerged: the tyrannical vulture-like Skeksis and the mystical hunchbacks urRu. They seem to be at odds with one another, but near the climax of the film, when during a battle a Skeksis is killed, an urRu disappears. In fact, for each Skeksis done in, a corresponding urRu dies.
See kiddies, the good-guys and the bad-guys are really the same thing, separated only by a cracked crystal. In the end, when the crystal is fixed and the shard is replaced, the Skeksis and the urRu are reconnected into their apparent original state, UrSkeks. The lesson for the children (and adults): only with proper perspective on wealth and money can a person's two halves be in balance.
How about the messages from one of Jim Henson's kid's shows that was rather beloved and not considered a flop, Fraggle Rock. This is a program I do remember watching, which is strange, because it aired on HBO and I don't remember us having that channel, but it could have been on PBS in a later round of airing.
The Fraggles are the main characters, about 18 inches tall, living in a cave system that has connecting entrance/exits to two different worlds. One is the workshop of the human, a white haired old man and his dog Sprocket, while the other is the world of the Gorgs, three very large beasts that are always after the Fraggles and exhibit signs of being a classic dysfunctional family. They keep a trash-heap, which acts as the Fraggles oracle. Inside Fraggle Rock, their cave system, they share space with the Doozers, tiny builders who are constantly building structures out of a material they synthesize from the radishes that the Fraggles eat. This makes their building material candy for the Fraggles, who tend to eat large portions of the construction.
One of the very best features of the show is that when extraordinary things happen the Fraggles have explanations for them that they convince themselves are the case, which are known by the viewer to be wrong. The Fraggles make a decision to act based on these wrong conclusions, and the outcome turns out beneficial for them--just like they'd hoped--but almost despite their actions, or for reasons that have nothing to do with their actions.
Children watching this get a lesson in the complexity of the world's machinations and about how being wrong can have all sorts of effects; good, bad, unintended, and even unrelated. Kids exposed to these subjects are suddenly able to be trusted intellectually with deeper storylines, like about prejudice and spirituality. That's just what Jim Henson and his producers did.
Here's a quick recap of one of the stories, about symbiosis. The tall activist Fraggle, Mokey, after watching the Fraggles regularly eating the Doozer structures, believes that the Fraggles are being harmful to the Doozers. She starts a campaign to get the Fraggles to stop eating the candy-structure, which is successful. Without the constant eating of the building material, the Doozers start to fill up the entire cave system, making it impossible for the both the Fraggles and Doozers to literally do anything. Their entire system of life is at risk, because Mokey thought she was doing the right thing.
Realizing that the Doozers and Fraggles need each other, she convinces everyone to forget what she convinced them of earlier, and order is eventually restored.
Are the aliens from Battleship here to teach us about how we need to better understand our symbiotic relationships with the environment? I'm not sure, but from the look of the ads, they're trying to kill everyone and take over (jokes on them!). Same thing with Loki, and whatever big-ass critter is visible Godzilla-ing Manhattan in the commercials.
I guess if a movie like last year's The Artist can win the Oscar for Best Film, their may be hope for the eventual return of serious complexity in projects of all kinds. Maybe I'm a cynic. Movies like Cool Hand Luke and Bullet and French Connection just don't get made anymore, and as a populace we're worse off because of it.
This is just part of the growing trend of dumbing everything down and not expecting your audiences to think, or even be capable of it. It doesn't bode well that our masses aren't being challenged.
Super-heroes vs super-villains. Aliens invading. Summing up two of the major films in just a handful of words.
In 1990 the world lost a preeminent artist, a character himself that was able to touch so many and get them thinking. His technological innovations were always leading the pack, but his special effects were mostly limited what's known as in-camera applications--effects achieved in the real world captured on film, not added in post-production. I'm, of course, talking about Jim Henson, famed puppeteer and entertainer.
Puppetry is an art form that, on the whole in mainstream America, may be on the wane, overall. They did just make a new Muppet movie, and Sesame Street is still entertaining and teaching young people, but at the height of puppetry's mainstream popularity, the Muppets television show was a smart cutting edge comedy, various Muppet characters made appearances on late-night talk shows, an animated show was airing, and two separate children's shows were on television, one on Public Broadcasting, the other on HBO.
When Children's Television Workshop decided to hand over the reigns of their morning program, Sesame Street, to Jim Henson, the wider PBS having world was introduced to his brand of engaging topics and means of communicating those topics. In one early episode of Sesame Street Bert and Ernie are putzing around their house, and Ernie stops what he's doing, looks right into the camera, and calls Bert to come over, that they have a special guest. Bert joins him and both he and Ernie welcome "you" into their home, the proverbial fourth-wall breaking acknowledgement of the home audience. Meanwhile at home kids are looking around their living rooms as it say "me?", and a whole generation of kids are instantly connected and hooked.
Jim Henson's films and television show projects were filled with difficult concepts to wrap heads around, but not impossible concepts, and he would routinely challenge children and adults alike. He would extend the benefit of the doubt that his audience could get it in a way that would be far too daring to get major financial backing for today.
Let's for a moment take a look at Henson's best known commercial flop, Dark Crystal. Cries of it was too dark or too adult are the most lobbed of the criticisms, but technologically it was as advanced as anything ever made up until then. But Henson knew that the technology was only as important as it was helpful to the story.
I don't remember seeing the movie as a child, and watched it for the first time only a few years ago. I was taken aback by the deep complexity that the ultimate, overarching story. A large crystal has split and two types of beings have emerged: the tyrannical vulture-like Skeksis and the mystical hunchbacks urRu. They seem to be at odds with one another, but near the climax of the film, when during a battle a Skeksis is killed, an urRu disappears. In fact, for each Skeksis done in, a corresponding urRu dies.
See kiddies, the good-guys and the bad-guys are really the same thing, separated only by a cracked crystal. In the end, when the crystal is fixed and the shard is replaced, the Skeksis and the urRu are reconnected into their apparent original state, UrSkeks. The lesson for the children (and adults): only with proper perspective on wealth and money can a person's two halves be in balance.
How about the messages from one of Jim Henson's kid's shows that was rather beloved and not considered a flop, Fraggle Rock. This is a program I do remember watching, which is strange, because it aired on HBO and I don't remember us having that channel, but it could have been on PBS in a later round of airing.
The Fraggles are the main characters, about 18 inches tall, living in a cave system that has connecting entrance/exits to two different worlds. One is the workshop of the human, a white haired old man and his dog Sprocket, while the other is the world of the Gorgs, three very large beasts that are always after the Fraggles and exhibit signs of being a classic dysfunctional family. They keep a trash-heap, which acts as the Fraggles oracle. Inside Fraggle Rock, their cave system, they share space with the Doozers, tiny builders who are constantly building structures out of a material they synthesize from the radishes that the Fraggles eat. This makes their building material candy for the Fraggles, who tend to eat large portions of the construction.
One of the very best features of the show is that when extraordinary things happen the Fraggles have explanations for them that they convince themselves are the case, which are known by the viewer to be wrong. The Fraggles make a decision to act based on these wrong conclusions, and the outcome turns out beneficial for them--just like they'd hoped--but almost despite their actions, or for reasons that have nothing to do with their actions.
Children watching this get a lesson in the complexity of the world's machinations and about how being wrong can have all sorts of effects; good, bad, unintended, and even unrelated. Kids exposed to these subjects are suddenly able to be trusted intellectually with deeper storylines, like about prejudice and spirituality. That's just what Jim Henson and his producers did.
Here's a quick recap of one of the stories, about symbiosis. The tall activist Fraggle, Mokey, after watching the Fraggles regularly eating the Doozer structures, believes that the Fraggles are being harmful to the Doozers. She starts a campaign to get the Fraggles to stop eating the candy-structure, which is successful. Without the constant eating of the building material, the Doozers start to fill up the entire cave system, making it impossible for the both the Fraggles and Doozers to literally do anything. Their entire system of life is at risk, because Mokey thought she was doing the right thing.
Realizing that the Doozers and Fraggles need each other, she convinces everyone to forget what she convinced them of earlier, and order is eventually restored.
Are the aliens from Battleship here to teach us about how we need to better understand our symbiotic relationships with the environment? I'm not sure, but from the look of the ads, they're trying to kill everyone and take over (jokes on them!). Same thing with Loki, and whatever big-ass critter is visible Godzilla-ing Manhattan in the commercials.
I guess if a movie like last year's The Artist can win the Oscar for Best Film, their may be hope for the eventual return of serious complexity in projects of all kinds. Maybe I'm a cynic. Movies like Cool Hand Luke and Bullet and French Connection just don't get made anymore, and as a populace we're worse off because of it.
This is just part of the growing trend of dumbing everything down and not expecting your audiences to think, or even be capable of it. It doesn't bode well that our masses aren't being challenged.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Annular Eclipse: Old Reliable to the Rescue
May 20th, 2012 is my brother's 22nd birthday, "or at least that's what we're telling people", but it's also the day of an annular eclipse, visible to the western states of America, as well as to many fine folks in Asia.
The annular eclipse is also known as the "ring of fire" eclipse, and occurs when the moon is farther away from the planet than under the conditions of a "total" eclipse. In the annular eclipse, the moon appears smaller than the sun, leading to, when the moon is directly between the sun and the earth, a ring of sun still visible.
This happened today, and while you had to be in Redding, California to see the full of "ring of fire", the effects were able to be witnessed in some form or another down here in Long Beach. With just a portion of the sun was covered, the daylight seemed a tiny bit dimmer, but actually looking at the sun was like normal--and not recommended.
I tried a pinprick paper, to test the shape of the sun on another piece, with mixed results. Then I remembered something that could help in this exact situation:
This is a picture I had in a post about the beginning of the year for the ancients. It is a picture of the pier at dusk in Avila Bay. The setting sun is visible as a black dot, as the old-school sensor for my old Digitrex camera was easily overwhelmed by the direct rays from the sun. Ah, that Digitrex. I've mentioned it before about vignetting and again about rediscovering it.
That limitation might be able to be of some service, I realized with time running out and the moon soon to be out of the sun's way. In the above picture we can see the circle blocked by the mountain, so, if anything, the moon might block some of the rays of the sun, and give us a document of this annular eclipse, something our eyes can't do.
So, looking away, I, for the first time ever, purposely pointed a digital camera directly at the sun, and hoped for the best. Here's what we got:
I'm willing to call that a success. The moon can be seen making a curved crescent of the all-black sun. Pretty cool.
This next picture is from our back balcony, and a slight movement as the shutter fired gives a cool curvy look to normally straight structures.
Thank you, Old Reliable. 15K pictures and still helping out in ways we're still learning about.
The annular eclipse is also known as the "ring of fire" eclipse, and occurs when the moon is farther away from the planet than under the conditions of a "total" eclipse. In the annular eclipse, the moon appears smaller than the sun, leading to, when the moon is directly between the sun and the earth, a ring of sun still visible.
This happened today, and while you had to be in Redding, California to see the full of "ring of fire", the effects were able to be witnessed in some form or another down here in Long Beach. With just a portion of the sun was covered, the daylight seemed a tiny bit dimmer, but actually looking at the sun was like normal--and not recommended.
I tried a pinprick paper, to test the shape of the sun on another piece, with mixed results. Then I remembered something that could help in this exact situation:
This is a picture I had in a post about the beginning of the year for the ancients. It is a picture of the pier at dusk in Avila Bay. The setting sun is visible as a black dot, as the old-school sensor for my old Digitrex camera was easily overwhelmed by the direct rays from the sun. Ah, that Digitrex. I've mentioned it before about vignetting and again about rediscovering it.
That limitation might be able to be of some service, I realized with time running out and the moon soon to be out of the sun's way. In the above picture we can see the circle blocked by the mountain, so, if anything, the moon might block some of the rays of the sun, and give us a document of this annular eclipse, something our eyes can't do.
So, looking away, I, for the first time ever, purposely pointed a digital camera directly at the sun, and hoped for the best. Here's what we got:
I'm willing to call that a success. The moon can be seen making a curved crescent of the all-black sun. Pretty cool.
This next picture is from our back balcony, and a slight movement as the shutter fired gives a cool curvy look to normally straight structures.
Thank you, Old Reliable. 15K pictures and still helping out in ways we're still learning about.
Happy Birthday Dan!
So, today my brother celebrates his birthday, and I say with warm regard, Happy Birthday Dan!
Love you, man.
Also, this is the first fourth edition of a recurring blog post, as in, the "Happy Birthday Dan!" post is the first to be seen four times. As a blast to the past, you can check out the first in 2009, the second in 2010, or the third from last year.
Also, exciting news for Dan, his wedding is in two weeks exactly.
Have a great relaxing day brother!
Love you, man.
Also, this is the first fourth edition of a recurring blog post, as in, the "Happy Birthday Dan!" post is the first to be seen four times. As a blast to the past, you can check out the first in 2009, the second in 2010, or the third from last year.
Also, exciting news for Dan, his wedding is in two weeks exactly.
Have a great relaxing day brother!
(With Chris)
Friday, May 18, 2012
Definitely a French Film
There had been a movie I wanted to see (ie drag Corrie to) at whatever indie theater might show it down here, but I was busy and forgot and time passed. I did, though, find it on streaming Netflix, and Corrie and I watched it. She thought it was mostly stupid, or weird, but I, knowing more about it beforehand I guess, liked it. It was definitely weird.
Although it was filmed in desert regions in south-eastern California, its writer and director were one in the same, and his name is Quentin Dupieux.
Here's the poster that reveals the name of the film:
I seem to remember the name being Robert when I first read about the movie.
In a nutshell Robert is the name of the main character, a rubber tire that has come to life, discovered that it has telekinetic powers, falls in love, and gruesomely murders all sorts of people. Now don't you want to see it? Is it just me that reads that premise and says: That's one for me?
You don't have to recognize the Frenchness to understand right away that the movie's not American. The storyline isn't particularly European; you could say that it's a commentary on wasteful American habits, that we should be killed violently by our newly-sentient garbage, but really it's not so different from The Birds or Attack of the Killer Tomatoes--the absurd just happens for no reason, and you have to deal with it...sorta.
The first two minutes let you know it's not American, or typical. Somebody like David Lynch does things that are very un-American when it comes to his fever-dream-like movies, but still, not like the opening of this movie.
When it opens the camera is set in the middle of a long dusty street, a wide angle lens shows a car pointed in the camera's direction off in the distance. Between the camera and the car along the side of the road are cheap looking wooden dining room-style chairs. The car, as it slowly drives towards the camera, swings widely back and forth across the street, knocking over every chair and breaking them.
It's bizarre to look at, and is a way to get a schmuck like me hooked. It takes its time and unfolds in a single long take. The car is a police cruiser, and when it stops the driver gets out and opens up the trunk. A cop gets out of the trunk, grabs a glass of water from car, and addresses the camera. His soliloquy about the rampant "for no apparent reason" in movies has you thinking okaaaaay, and when finished, despite the obvious blinding heat and glaring sky, he pours the water onto the ground.
It turns out he's not talking to home-viewers, he's addressing "viewers of the movie", a set of spectators that have binoculars and occasionally comment on the tire-story-movie in one of the most bizarre side narratives ever. The spectators are forced to sleep outdoors as they follow along with the Robert the Tire's story, and then they're poisoned...most of them anyway...
I'm telling you, this is the Frenchest wacky California desert movie ever.
Another way to tell it's French (or not American) is the heroine, if you can call her that. She's a sexy brunette. I mean that in the sense that she's not one of America's anorexic impossibly skinny movie starlets. She's not 5'10" and 120 pounds of t&a, and she's not blonde. She's just a regular and believable sexy girl, the kind that are accepted in France.
In a scene where she checks into a motel, she calls home to leave a message for her mom (or talk to her, maybe, concerning her trip's progress) before she gets into the shower, and you can tell from her accent that she's French.
If you have streaming Netflix and are in the mood for one of the most original films around, check it out. If you don't have streaming Netflix, but like the idea of telekinetic murderous tires, locate this movie and take a gander.
Although it was filmed in desert regions in south-eastern California, its writer and director were one in the same, and his name is Quentin Dupieux.
Here's the poster that reveals the name of the film:
I seem to remember the name being Robert when I first read about the movie.
In a nutshell Robert is the name of the main character, a rubber tire that has come to life, discovered that it has telekinetic powers, falls in love, and gruesomely murders all sorts of people. Now don't you want to see it? Is it just me that reads that premise and says: That's one for me?
You don't have to recognize the Frenchness to understand right away that the movie's not American. The storyline isn't particularly European; you could say that it's a commentary on wasteful American habits, that we should be killed violently by our newly-sentient garbage, but really it's not so different from The Birds or Attack of the Killer Tomatoes--the absurd just happens for no reason, and you have to deal with it...sorta.
The first two minutes let you know it's not American, or typical. Somebody like David Lynch does things that are very un-American when it comes to his fever-dream-like movies, but still, not like the opening of this movie.
When it opens the camera is set in the middle of a long dusty street, a wide angle lens shows a car pointed in the camera's direction off in the distance. Between the camera and the car along the side of the road are cheap looking wooden dining room-style chairs. The car, as it slowly drives towards the camera, swings widely back and forth across the street, knocking over every chair and breaking them.
It's bizarre to look at, and is a way to get a schmuck like me hooked. It takes its time and unfolds in a single long take. The car is a police cruiser, and when it stops the driver gets out and opens up the trunk. A cop gets out of the trunk, grabs a glass of water from car, and addresses the camera. His soliloquy about the rampant "for no apparent reason" in movies has you thinking okaaaaay, and when finished, despite the obvious blinding heat and glaring sky, he pours the water onto the ground.
It turns out he's not talking to home-viewers, he's addressing "viewers of the movie", a set of spectators that have binoculars and occasionally comment on the tire-story-movie in one of the most bizarre side narratives ever. The spectators are forced to sleep outdoors as they follow along with the Robert the Tire's story, and then they're poisoned...most of them anyway...
I'm telling you, this is the Frenchest wacky California desert movie ever.
Another way to tell it's French (or not American) is the heroine, if you can call her that. She's a sexy brunette. I mean that in the sense that she's not one of America's anorexic impossibly skinny movie starlets. She's not 5'10" and 120 pounds of t&a, and she's not blonde. She's just a regular and believable sexy girl, the kind that are accepted in France.
In a scene where she checks into a motel, she calls home to leave a message for her mom (or talk to her, maybe, concerning her trip's progress) before she gets into the shower, and you can tell from her accent that she's French.
If you have streaming Netflix and are in the mood for one of the most original films around, check it out. If you don't have streaming Netflix, but like the idea of telekinetic murderous tires, locate this movie and take a gander.
April 2012 a Big Month (For Posts)
In June of 2009 I set my record for number of posts in a month at 51. That was a good month for posting, mainly because we went on some trips and I ended up with lots to talk about, and even near the end, with a rainbow piece about Thrice Refracted Light I felt like I'd been away for a time and pulled something out of my ass. That was the 29th of June, and I still had three pieces to go before I was to be done.
Well, I've eclipsed that this past April, only it's hard to see. Since I have some many blogs, it's hard to get a handle of everything I wrote in those thirty days, and I mean it's hard for me.
On this blog, my OG site, I had only 17 posts. On the Observatory I had 10. On the travel blog I had 9. I had 18 on the library blog, 8 on the food site, 9 on the Wasteland, and 4 posts on the local scene blog that started on 420. That right there was 75, and that's not counting my mostly vanilla sports posts, of which there were 31.
That's 106 posts total.
Keeping busy, anyway.
Well, I've eclipsed that this past April, only it's hard to see. Since I have some many blogs, it's hard to get a handle of everything I wrote in those thirty days, and I mean it's hard for me.
On this blog, my OG site, I had only 17 posts. On the Observatory I had 10. On the travel blog I had 9. I had 18 on the library blog, 8 on the food site, 9 on the Wasteland, and 4 posts on the local scene blog that started on 420. That right there was 75, and that's not counting my mostly vanilla sports posts, of which there were 31.
That's 106 posts total.
Keeping busy, anyway.
Big Things Today...
Not that I've finished up my Chef Gonzo posts, and half of the Blonde Giant posts, it's time to get to the meat of the posts for today, my original blogs, which, while not really neglected, haven't been worked on like they would have been in the past.
So...without further ado, the first few will be on the Observatory, and then back to here, and in a week, you'll never know what the progression was, or that there ever was a progression...
So...without further ado, the first few will be on the Observatory, and then back to here, and in a week, you'll never know what the progression was, or that there ever was a progression...
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