Monday, September 19, 2011

Words on the Last Words I Wrote, or: Pretending I Have Readers

I just theorized that every person has their own Rory Gilmore, a fictional character that ruined your life by setting  ridiculously high standards. Every person I've spoken to has been able to name their character, the character that ruined our lives. My favorite so far has been a girl who said "Hyde from That '70s Show." (To which I answered: "Give me 10 minutes in a 7/11 parking lot, I will find you Hyde.)

But now, I must ask, who is your Rory Gilmore, dear fake readers?

Words on Fictional Perfection, or: How Alexis Bledel Ruined My Life.

Lately I've been house-sitting for two of my closest friends, and I've discovered that watching a house is not nearly as fun today as it was when I was a teenager. For example, I'm convinced my friends had a conversation recently that contained the sentence "Marty's going to be here, hide all the good food." However, while perusing through their DVD collection, as I am wont to do in any home I enter, I came across a beautiful treasure trove: Five seasons of Gilmore Girls, a fantastic show you should feel ashamed for having never watched. For years, this show has been a guilty pleasure for which I feel no actual guilt, and this discovery felt like reuniting with a long-lost friend. And yet as I tear through episode after episode of my old friend, a sudden realization washes over me. Rory Gilmore has ruined my life.

Words on Facebook, or: The Shayne Lancaster Effect.

I'm feeling surprisingly First-World-Problem irritated over Facebook's new "Lists" feature, so rather than write something original, I dragged out this piece I wrote about Facebook a year ago:

Words on the State of Criticism, or: Why We're All Screwed When Ebert Dies.

Watching the remake of Sam Peckinpah’s Straw Dogs this week, I made a note regarding one of the film’s underlying themes that I simply didn’t have time to address in my review.  In addition to the original films observations about violence, sexuality, religion and blaming the victim, this version added a subtext that seemed oddly out of place, a commentary on the average man’s version of Hollywood. Beyond the setting, the second biggest change between this Straw Dogs and the original is the changing of the main character’s occupation from a college mathematician, as played by Dustin Hoffman, to the Hollywood screenwriter that James Marsden plays. At first this change seems minor, just an attempt to portray David as sort of a yuppie, but this fact keeps getting brought up over and over again.  As David does research to write a historical drama about the battle of Stalingrad, one of his hillbilly tormenters asks him “You writin’ or something?” He goes on to inquire if David’s written any action movies, and finally says “What you done that I would’ve seen?” to which David disdainfully replies, “Probably nothing.”  Later, as Kate Bosworth’s character discusses acting in a failed TV show, a slutty cheerleader says “I don’t know how come it’s not on, everyone I know watched it.” Eventually, as our villain asks David “Why would you want to write a movie about a bunch of Russkis?” I decided that this theme exploring Hollywood’s disconnect from American audience had to be so prevalent for a reason.  I did my research and discovered that writer/director Rod Lurie is himself a former film critic. As such, he is fully aware that the lines he put into these character’s mouths are actual feelings expressed by audiences every single day. He is fully aware that there is an anti-intellectual “us vs. them” mentality regarding American audiences’ feeling towards critics, and he is lashing out against it by having these thoughts come from characters we’re meant to look down upon. (Ironically, he’s doing it in a film which seems to be intentionally mismarketed to appeal to the types of audience members he is making fun of.)