Don't Stop Believing?

I don't get Musicals.

On some level I understand the need for inner expression through various emotional mechanisms. I enjoy the theater and last year I went to my first Ballet "Giselle". I watched Moulin Rouge and kept waiting for dialgoue to come up, even though I thought the editing and the music choice was some of the best married sound and image I had ever seen. As a close friend usually describes his disinterests "It just didn't do anything for me."

Throughout my time watching Disney films I was only able to challenge my expectations with Sleeping Beauty where in the woods a bunch of animals dance with the princess until a prince happens to walk by and capture her heart (unfortunately not literally). Out of all the silly nonsensical musical scenes I've watched, this confounded me... because I liked it. I felt like dancing with some beautiful woman and knew for the first time what it felt like to be in love... Yes of course, I knew ALL of this at the tender age of 6. Actually I think I just enjoyed the movie so much I accepted the musical. I'd often just be opposed to anything that warped the narrative in some kind of cruel music stasis lock. The effect has always been annoying and made the film less enjoyable. But not that time.

People don't understand why I feel this way. And it wasn't until my friend truly made me understand that I don't "prefer" musicals. There are plenty of musicals I really like. So it's more like I tolerate some. No, wait. I like them.

I realized this when I first saw Once More with Feeling a Buffy episode where an especially well dressed demon uses his Michael Jackson moves to hipnotise the town into dancing and singing everywhere all the time. Amazing? Hilarious? Oh yes. But it's Buffy. And Buffy never did anything wrong... Except Inca Mummy Girl and that episode where Xander and his crew become Hyenas. But I digress, It started to become apparent. Musicals aren't all bad.

I wrote a paper on Meet Me in St. Louis in my first year of university. It was about turn of the century technology and it's integration into the nuclear household. The breaks in songs didn't even bother me. I loved Judy Garland, but I think it was the setting and the integration of many themes that just made the film more satisfying.

It seems odd then, given what I've mentioned above that I would actually be opposed to musicals. Yet I am. I'm passionate about it. And I think all of this disdain was collected by a series of convincing feelings I felt as a child. I go out of my way to describe this dissatisfaction well aware of the offense and shock it can produce. In recent months, I've been subject to much criticism for trying and not liking Glee... But I'll get to that later.

I don't really like Aladdin. I love the jokes and the songs are cute, but as a general story it doesn't intrigue me. And I really got annoyed at how often the characters would just break out into song. I could see the writers mulling over their work:

"Al, we've got another character to introduce. What's the best way of describing their philosophy? How do we portray narcissistic talking animals?"
"Get them to sing a jingle, Fred."

And on and on this formula goes.

This was confusing during my youth and I wanted to understand why my friends were so "Holy shit, best thing since chocolate milk!" And dammit, they are probably right. I think I have some kind of "fun" defect in this department, but I've come to embrace it. Musicals, like life, are silly. They seem like clever distractions for every moment its creators feel as though the infant beside them (I'm specifically talking about Disney) is getting too overwhelmed. Let's sing about nothing or lets sing about everything we've already described to you! And for the love of money, make sure that soundtrack sells!

There's a moment in Top Hat where Fred Astaire whisks away his sweetheart and talks about dancing with her cheek to cheek to express his love to be near her. It's established well before when he's dancing (magnificently) in the room above hers in some exceptionally nice hotel. But still, celebratory nonsense. It doesn't make sense to just freeze the plot and be patronized under the guise of talented actors.

Yes, I'm sure it's quite something to hear anyone from Generation X say "Yeah, I don't really like Disney." But that's not what I'm saying. I don't like most of Disney.  I think it's a more ethical question in some ways. Because, really, I'm also talking about how this impacts the pysche of a child. You take something like Snow White and put it up against Up and you have yourself an interesting comparison. Can you imagine my relief when Pixar came along and did everything I wanted Disney to do? But more to the point this directs focus on important aspects of the story instead of detracting from them. There are no breaks in Up, or Wall-E, and barely in Toy Story (with the exception of one sequence). These films have heart and take leaps no Disney film will ever be able to replicate (Yeah, Yeah. Disney bought Pixar, but screw that nonsense). And that is for a lot of reasons, but it's also because there isn't a single musical number in them.

Now. What is Glee? How is Glee? How can Glee be?

Does it have a decent social commentary about teenage angst? Yeah, kind of. It's Glee. It's story is as bubbly as it's musical numbers. There's of course witty dialogue and every stereotypical conundrum you've heard about the modern teen generation. And it's musical relevance is completely legitimate within the realm of it's world. No one suddenly breaks into song. It's all planned and often the singing accurately and amazingly drives the storyline or assists it.

So... What the frak? What's wrong with this show?
They're all too fucking happy but more importantly they all sing perfectly well. They're young students. Infants. And they can scarcely contain their glee. I hate to dampen the mood, but the story barely provides me enough character incentive but much less is this consistent barrage of happiness flocking teens in the midst of a flawless ensemble. When they aren't happy they seem to be just perfecting their voices as they explain again and again their plight with the world. I don't get it. I tried. I'm pretty sure it's one of the most superficial portrayals of teen culture, but that's okay. It's Glee. That's what it's aiming for. I just don't like it. It doesn't do anything for me... But maybe make me bored.

I felt like ending this traditionally. But I want to leave it as I'm uncertain whether this genre has really earned my dissatisfaction. I recently saw the sexiest most beautiful film in a while:

Nine.

What? Gosh! Shock! The film bombed at the box office, critics were less than sympathetic. But dammit, it's a really beautiful movie. Sure, the plot does nothing but weakly tap into the wonderful mind of Fellini. But that didn't matter. All of the actors were incredibly convincing in their roles. Women are pretty fucking objectified, but i think theres a conscious effort to dissuade Daniel Day-Lewis' greedy and eccentric lifestyle by showing the amazing loss and betrayal that is burdened by Marion Cotillard. On top of that I felt like the women were telling the story about Fellini. I do wonder how well received this was by female audiences.

There is just a powerful punch from these performances that just captivated my imagination. My God, is that Judy Dench in feathers? Nicole Kidman, you're actually proving again that you can be transformed! Penelope Cruz... Well shit. She's wonderfully terrifying. The cast is as spectacular as the cinematography, but it's so much more enjoyable because it's a dreamy wonder about a socially disconnected brilliant man. It's definitely not that best movie I've ever seen, but, got to me.

So I may not get musicals, but they may not get me. Like a wild passionate relationship: one minute I say one thing and the next I say another that contradicts it. Maybe they all have to have sex appeal and Daniel Day-Lewis, but maybe, just maybe they have to have genuine focus and let the music fall where it works best. (or just suits me the most) Nine had a song for all the woman Day-Lewis' character loved. Meet Me In St. Louis described technology and technology is awesome. Buffy made fun of musicals by embracing the musical. Disney just didn't seem that clever.

Sorry Gleeks, this man is not convinced.

Etiquette in Movie Theatres

At this point, unless a Holodeck is about to be announced (which would be so sweet), nothing is more effective to suspend my disbelief other than a good old fashioned movie theater. While I remain an avid movie buff, my room filled with hundreds of DVDs, and to my horror, possibly Blu-Rays sometime soon, I don't shun the home theatre experience. On the contrary, I embrace it. Nothing satisfies me more than inspecting the mountaineous display of great films I have collected over the years, within my grasp.

And yet, no matter what I do to create the allusion of the theater, I know that it'll never compare to sitting with a bunch of strangers in a large dark theater.

Which brings me to my plea... The commercialization of "Movie Theaters" has understandably riddled the etiquette of the intended experience. The movie industry cripples many similar forms of entertainment because of the sheer masses. This leads to the sad inevitable reduction of respect when it comes to watching any film with an audience. I won't be an asshole and say that everyone shouldn't feel free to express their enjoyment in a comedy, but I'm making a claim that I've never made before: I'm cursed. Perhaps it's because I'm looking for them or maybe it's just the odds of hearing some jerk with too much concession food is extremely high. Regardless, I shouldn't have to deal with some obnoxious asshat munching or yapping during a very dramatic scene. It's not right, dammit, and it always seems to happen to me!

We pay an exorbitant amount of money already getting into these films, the last thing I want is for it to be ruined. Granted, if it's a comedy of any kind I have limits for what I can deal with. It just surprises me that common sense no longer exists. Do people yap through the ballet? The Symphony? No. It's considered incorrect behaviour and your dumb ass will be escorted out if you cause shit. So the question is, with the advent of pricing increases and audience demographics AND masses, how do we judge this? How do we do the right thing?

On a good experience at the theater you can become immersed in something wonderful, something that takes you away from the real world, let's tangle with hidden pleasures of voyeurism. Ah, the pleasure derived from such things... Anyway, what I mean is that having even a single great experience in a theater justifies a return, but also an expectation for the audience. From this I derived a thought, it's just about respect. There is very little respect for someone you can't see, much less for someone you're likely never to see again. (Unless you're me, and if you ruin my experience, I'll cut you... in the face)

What do we do? What can we do? Ordinarily I'd dream up some kind of paradise in the form of an old Art Deco-esque cinema filled with security guards holding shotguns and night vision goggles (fuck, remember when they used to warn you that during the film you'd be monitored in night vision if you tried to record the film... Damn you Faucult, damn the panopticon concept!). In any case, rather than dream up a wonderland, I think it's necessary to face reality.

We can't stop these people. We can't predict if we'll get a good or bad experience.


However.

We can make these people pay in the form of embarrassment.

I get pretty worked up when I hear someone behind me chuckling away, just deliberately being obnoxious or is just blinded by his or her own stupidity. I have a tolerance for whispering and laughing. I love audience participation.... Yes, that's right. I LIKE it. But only when it's appropriate.

But often enough you're in the right when you know someone's ruining a film. They're being loud and laying out their criticsms, or being some kind of smartass, or they're 13 trying to impress themselves and they're 13 year old girlfriend by popping zits and laughing like an infant and an old man morphing back and forth. So fuck 'em. If they're bothering you enough, let them know. I mean it! Turn around and let them know. Confrontation is something I think most Canadians seem to avoid (explains a lot about the state of our film industry). What's "too" much, what isn't. This isn't about satisfying your ego, it's about making sure you enjoy something because you PAID too much for it.

I recommend you go with your instincts, but don't refrain from approaching the jerk because you don't want to cause a scene. I believe there are levels of approaching. All determined by your disturber.

I saw Superman Returns. No, it wasn't good. And sure, it was a popcorn blockbuster. I buy popcorn almost every time I go to the movies. I love the stuff. But these two idiots behind me kept talking to each other as if they were annoyed at the movie for speaking over them. It was insane. And at this dramatic moment where (spoiler) Superman is falling from the sky these two are having a conversation like it's cool. The scene drained all sound away for dramatic effect, so, unlike the rest of the film, I was captivated but this single moment until they ruined it. My friend kept telling me to ignore them, but it's hard if they're behind you. But I didn't say anything. That is, not until after. As everyone was filing out these two idiots were behind me still laughing and chatting like they had before. So I turned around and told them:

"Hey guys, did you like the movie? No? Me neither, not because it was bad but because I had to listen to you two narrate the entire thing. I' didn't pay 12 bucks to hear you two have a conversation." 

I know, very elaborate, maybe a tag much, but I had collected some hate for these people and felt like a Superman of movies, unable to abide the slaughter of proper movie watching etiquette. It seemed to dampen their spirits, as they apologized and quickly scurried away. The best part is that the people who also saw the film smiled in agreement.

I vowed I would not allow my experience to be attacked again. If someone's pissing me off, I'll turn around and tell them to be quiet. 9 times out of 10 they will be quiet. Occationally you'll get some thug or preteen who will feel as though they're whole life is in jeopardy if they comply, but that's usually not the case. If it is, cut them in the face or call security. Probably the latter. Cutting leads to bad places. Fucking Foucault!

I see this issue as a reflection of our culture and I don't enjoy it. The community surrounding a theater intrigues me because you can marvel together with strangers the beauty of film. For those precious moments you can become involved in that world of pandora, or get aroused by that sex scene (err..), or get reduced to a teary blob of saddness because of how much you felt for that character. You can share that all with an audience, and that's an amazing wonder I don't think gets enough attention. When the crowd is good, it makes all of the difference. I'm not suggesting we all become mindless atomitons that can't feel how we feel or act as ourselves. I'm just simply asking for respect.

Oh my brothers, must we do this to make you understand?


And I'm not saying every situation calls for conflict, but there are most definately those times where you are well within your rights to tell the mother fraker to shove his foot in his mouth.

So say we all.

You know what I love/"I can't keep doing this on my own... with these... people."

I love coffee in the morning. I love the routine of nabbing drip from even the most despised enterprises. Why? Because even at the point when i'm made aware of certain horrors, I simply (like everyone else) assimulate them and slowly but surely take my exposure (or lack thereof) for granted. Nab a starbucks or a tim hortons or manage to get out of my way to pick up fair trade. Of course, only when it's convienent. jesus, 4 years of social media training and all I think about is...

Nothing. I think of nothing but this. I look back on all of the films I've seen and the horrors they portrayed and how in some sick way they captured my imagination enough to leave me with a cold sobering impression that caring about coffee in the morning shouldn't matter. I should give my entire existence into simply cowering from the corporate zeal I've swept myself under and yield to undying and conquering fear and pessimism.

I think most of the time, people are in between decisions. If they really consider their options their usually left with left or right. Choose this and it'll be more rewarding and choose this and you won't have to worry about it. But simply as yourself how do you make a difference? Well. You're making one all of the time and continuously interacting with others could perhaps save their lives compeltely. Your butterfly wings could be the reason I continue to wake up in the morning. yet it's all random.

What I'm getting at is choice, and whether everyone is capable of making a concrete effort to acknowledge something and change it.

that coffee smells delicious. can I tell you about my favourite recipe?

What do you believe in?

This Time

maybe it was the way she looked at him from across the hazy heat filled clutter of laughing fools holding cigarettes and on the verge of puking or screwing depending on what felt more right.

"You good, bud?"
"Couldn't be better, Dude. Couldn't be better."
"Who are you looking at? [Turns over his shoulder] OH. Out of your league sir."
"Yeah well.."
"No, seriously, dude. I am not going through it again. Every time you see a girl like that you get this that look. Yeah. That one!"
"She's not like the others..."
"She's exactly like the others! Psyche major and completely unforgiving to assholes. You just know she's here with some monster of a dude. That pretty face will tear you apart. Remember Alderaan man, Alderaan!"
"She looked at me though... She's still looking at me."
"She's bored! Bra... Wait. Bra? Did I actually..."
"Dude. Here have a beer."
"No dammit. I can't let you go over there. Not again. Not this time."
"I'll give you my joint."
"God dammit..."
"I love you dude. Don't worry. She's different."

You can't help but assure things will be different with her, but then you get 'there' and all the familiar tastes are running around like a thousand fat naked women from some bizarre and wonderful romantic painting. It's useless making yourself feel comfortable about yakking bullshit. Things trace well that way, but isn't it better when you really meet someone special at the time their guard it up and down at the same time? The genuine moment of "Hey, let's pretend things are different between us and let's not pretend to be ourselves. I don't think I surprise myself nearly enough because that voice of calm is to pestering to let me feel a little more free even with a glass of scotch in hand.

Not this time.

How I learned to stop worrying and love

Maybe start with your attitude. That usually leads to wrong places, sad faces, and pissed off girls who don't think they ever understood a word you uttered.

Look for that attitude first, then you'll see how wrong you've been about certain things. Don't let this cripple your self-esteem, even though it will leave a bleeding wound in your gut. She may move like water but she's a tidal wave in disguise. Which leads me to the end change:

Don't fuck with your pride. Keep it all in perspective, wrongdoings are great, but don't feed of of them. Waking up in a sea of popcorn smelling like Grants is a good way to earn yourself a slap in the face, especially when she doesn't give a shit. Fuck the smell of mustard and all that shit you messed with when you were like a drunk sailor waiting to get off of the boat.

Remember there's always soemthing to do in this town to amuse yourself. Some cheap asshole to fight and get beaten up by. Some girl who'll toss you a look you'll never forget. Sometimes even I forget to take it all in. Take the time to nap about the crazy happenings in the daily life:

"How was it?"
"With that girl? Like the rest. Boring and terrifying. She likes to brag about conservative culture.
"Jesus. Why'd you even bother."
"Because my friend, there can't be anything more full of desperation than being closed off on a saturday night."
"Hmmm I guess... Me and Ange stay in a lot."
"That's because you two fuck like horny teenagers."
"because I love her."
"I give it another month."
"That's what you said last month."

The important thing to remember is never loose face . You've got all of these kind words you could say to someone else but you could also just tell them how you feel in a porportional fashion, without having to display yourself as yoda, but just enough of a punch to let them know you're being honest and that you care.

"one of these days you're going to come to terms with your homophobia."
"I just don't like the fact that you don't like me that way."
"Oh please, sorry love, there's no point in lying. I'm not interested. However, we'll find you a girl... if you don't manage to mame her with your charm.
"I do enjoy making fools out of the people who don't really except me straight away."



====
Because I wanted to write something strange.

The Tickets are Now Diamonds

That is all.

This is the way their world ends

"I never liked the way she looked at me after 1 month of dating. It had this strange tired and disinterested glare."

He often thought he was over looking things. There were plenty of other problems to consider. Like the end of civilization. He felt guilty about it. It's not like he tried to think about petty issues. It was probably a way of justifying his existence. When everything you know, loved, hated... was reduced to ash or perhaps some vague symbolism found on a survived poster, you kinda have to consider your past.

"This isn't dating. This isn't anything. You're just here and I'm here. You make me feel alive, but I don't love you. You're just convenient. This is not dating. There is no such thing as dating anymore."

It's like love had been killed as well. She couldn't be blamed. He often pondered why she hadn't killed herself. Finding a nearly inexhaustible source of food can wrinkle a few plans.

"That's it then."
"I'm just being honest with you."
"Ya know, if things were different... Say, perhaps, I dunno... Maybe if the world wasn't GONE. Then I'd appreciate your honesty. But right now, I see enough truth. I wouldn't mind having some good old fashioned dishonesty. You know, white lies... Perhaps some false hope to clutch after the apocalypse. "
"I'm going to go up."
"Yeah, you do that."

She walked through the corridor and up the small emergency hatch leading to the elevator able to withstand the initial shock of a nuclear blast. Everything had been labeled for them.

Meeting each other had been an accident. Or at least she thought so. They just both woke up in the bunkers infirmary stark naked. There was a lot of confusion.

They did know the world was gone. At least... People were. The ISS even took a few hours to give up. Guess those psyche tests for astronauts didn't account for what people do when there is nothing left.

He often walked around the bunkers main attraction.

"It's funny." He said, interrupting her topside by using an intercom.
"I'm not talking to you."
"Hmmm... I'm tempted."
"No you're not."
"I'm standing next to a nuclear missile. I have a key to destroy us. Which from what we know, we're all that's left."
"Fine. Do it or don't. I don't care anymore."
"Think about it though... I have the power to end everything."
"You idiot. We're already dead, I could pop out 20 babies but we'd still be doomed."
"Yeah. Time is relative though. Think about now. I... I'm God."
"Of all the people I'm spending my last days with... I get him."

This was the second time he did this in a week. She remains convinced it's some kind of an attempt to create an interest in him she hadn't had before. Or to distract her from all of his confessed sexual fantasies. Or perhaps hide his impression that they were and have been a couple since they first had sex.

"You shouldn't go up there. It's not safe."
"There's a huge layer of glass. It's called the observation pod for a reason. I think I'll die here."
"What, now?"
"No... Maybe. If you keep talking. All of this technology and they don't include an off button on the intercom."
"You hate me."
"I hate talking."
"I still think it's a simulation."
"..."
"Some kind of loyalty test for citizens... some experiment."
"And we're the rats in the maze. My god. You're so smart."
"Heh... Pun intended!"