Movie Review 7: Could Have Been Pretentious, But Was Instead FANTASTIC.

Tripp and I watched Humpday a few nights ago. We'd read a review describing it as a campy independent film about two straight male friends deciding to make a gay porn flick together. Interesting, slightly taboo, could be good. Then it arrived, I read the description on the back of the netflix envelope, and I instantly felt deflated: It's actually about two straight male friends who decide to make an art film in which they have sex with each other. Uh oh. In my experience, "art", "independent" and "film" are three words that when used in the same sentence actually spell "pretentious bullshit". (Hell, Waitress was an independent film about an annoying small-town pie creator, and THAT was pretentious bullshit so I could only imagine what this would hold for us.) So, we trudged along not expecting much and oh how we were delightfully surprised. Simply put, this movie rocks! The two friends are both realistically flawed and adorable, and they do a great job accurately portraying the evolution of a friendship from college buds to grown-ups who love and respect each other despite/because of their different paths. The movie also examines the impact this "art project" has on the responsible friend's wife and avoids making her a "Betty Crocker cardboard cutout" (her words). Most important, the movie is fun. It's funny, it's sometimes uncomfortable, and it's thought-provoking. Can't recommend it highly enough. 11ty stars.

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From the Mouths of Babes (Actually, Alicia Keys)

As Tripp and several of my friends who've endured my (perhaps inappropriately) intimate queries about their personal beliefs regarding God's existence, the meaning of life, what happens after death, and various other heavies can testify (pun intended), I think about this kind of crap a lot.
This came out of the blue for me. For years, I quietly and without question attended Christmas and Easter Mass with my mother's Catholic family as well as my cousins' Bar and Bat Mitzvah and a handful of Seders. Then for a variety of reasons, many of which I'm sure I don't realize, I started thinking about the whole God thing more.
Is there a God? A lot of people seem to think so. I'd like there to be a God, at least the kind of God I imagine: a benevolent, wise, unconditionally loving and accepting grandfather-type who makes everything okay in the end (and who lets us reunite with our loved ones who died before us). But when I thought about it, I mean really thought about it, the idea didn't make sense. Where would God exist? Who or what created God? Isn't it more likely, doesn't it seem more reasonable, that there isn't a Heaven, that we don't have souls, that there is no purpose to life (beyond what we, ourselves, claim it to be), and that there is no loving, omniscient, bearded, bespeckled, and Birkenstocked grandfather in the sky (this is MY fantasy, dammit!)? And finally, don't we look back at the ancient Greeks and think, "Wow, that whole Zeus thing was kind of crazy"? Isn't it possible (probable?) that thousands of years from now our descendants will look back at us and think the same thing?
I struggle with this off and on. During the on's, I feel a deep sadness and fear. People (and animals, for that matter) die, or are tortured, hungry, sick, abused, trapped, and mistreated everyday. The idea that there is no purpose to suffering or that there is nothing better waiting on the other side haunts me. And I envy the faithful. Beneath all the dogma that some spout, those who truly believe have a sense of peace that I want.
Tripp, God love him (haha), is absolutely no help. He'll endure my repetitiveness as I ask the same questions and try to convince him of God's existence using the same arguments I've unsuccessfully used for years (if I convince Tripp, the biggest non-believer I know, then surely I'll believe). But it never works. And for that matter, Tripp seems completely unfazed by the idea of no higher power.
Then, something changed. A little DVD titled "Elmo's Christmas Countdown" came into my life. While trying to distract Henry from his favorite activity (removing all the knives from the dishwasher and licking them), I popped in this little treasure and found an unexpected sense of comfort from it. I only half paid attention to the story line: Something about an advent calendar being lost and resulting in the permanent cancellation of Christmas. But little Elmo and his celebrity friends have faith, which they simplistically explain as what you believe in even when it's hard to and even when it seems more likely that what you're believing isn't true. You hold onto it anyway, and who knows? Miracles can happen. I'm sure religious scholars throughout time have said the same thing in a more sophisticated way; but, as usual, I respond to the Sesame Street version of complicated topics. Faith. Belief that is not based on fact. What's wrong with having a little faith? Maybe there isn't a God or a heaven, but what's wrong with having faith that there is? In the end, Christmas wasn't cancelled forever even though Cookie Monster ate the advent calendar after the gang did all that hard work to find it. If that can happen, maybe there is a heaven and a grandfatherly God, too.

haha!

Go ahead, gay guy!

Thanks, Folks!

The BWB podcast has 40 shows and is closing in on 2,000 downloads! Thanks to all our listeners and guests!

Movie Review: Ain't Nothing Wrong With Esther

Watched Orphan last night. I had a strange response to this movie's previews: I was totally into it. This is strange because usually I don't get worked up to see movies AND because no one else in the universe shared my excitement. (A friend who frequently and purposefully watches awful movies with us wouldn't come near this thing.) Anyway, I was pumped: Was Esther a ghost or just a crazy kid? What IS wrong with Esther??? But due to finances, poor reviews, passing time, and a wandering attention span I forgot about poor Esther and her psycho orphan-hood.
Last night we got it in on Netflix, and let's just skip all the rigamarole and get down to brass tacks: This movie F-ing RULES. All of the female parts are played exquisitely (especially the roles of Max (the most adorable child in the universe) and Kate (baby mama)). There is a twist ending I wouldn't have seen coming if someone hadn't told me about it ahead of time. And Esther is freaking creepy! She even has a Russian accent!!! I say an awesome scary movie, if that's your bag. 24 stars.

More Deliciously Dangerous Than the Frappuccino?

The Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte. Holy GOD.

Amen, Sister! (re: Roman Polanski)

Rather than write my own tirade about Roman Polanski and his rapiness, I'd rather reference salon.com's Kate Harding, whose opinions on this matter completely match mine and who is a much better writer than me.
Ah, screw it, I'm going to go on my own (much less distinguished) tirade about it, too. My freak out regarding this situation isn't even directed at Polanski or our ridiculous legal system which has allowed this jackass to party through Europe the past thirty years. It's at ANYONE who stands up for this guy; which has been, shockingly, a LOT of people. Is anyone else amazed that people are in this sociopath's corner? He's a out-of-the-closet convicted child rapist who didn't serve his prison sentence. How is this not frowned upon?! If there was EVER a reason for someone to wear a scarlet letter, this would be it. But somehow this douche has been embraced by his community. On yesterday's Good Morning, America it was reported that Polanski supporters claim, unironically, that the California legal system should maybe, probably let this one go because of all of Polanski's "achievements". Wha? Do we really want to set THAT precedent? "Look, we would rather you didn't fuck kids; but seeing that you're accomplished and all, could you just stop now and we'll call it even?"
Where do we draw the line with this? If Roman F-ing Polanski is so accomplished that he can get away with drugging and raping a child, certainly, say, the president could away with something really heinous and illegal. And what about a great cardiologist who saves lots of lives but also kinda likes to club old people over the head and steal their wallets? Or a brilliant astronomer who discovers Pluto really IS a planet after all; but he sorta helped Michael V. set up that dog-fighting operation? I never met the guy, but I hate Roman Polanski. And as far as I'm concerned his pretentious, egotistical supporters who think he's too brilliant to serve jail time can suck a donkey dong. I told you I was less distinguished than Kate.

Thanks, Chuckles.

Uncle Chuck sent me this follow-up to September 3rd's podcast, Facebook Status. Thanks, Chuck and Guidespot!

Parenting PSA

You can watch Sesame Street's 2005 production, Happy Healthy Monsters, eight times in a 24-hour period before losing your mind. I'm on nine.