What a long strange trip it's been...

On my small screen this week: The Life Aquatic (2004). They’ve got cameras. They’ve got glocks. They’ve got a ship you wouldn’t cross the LA River in, ‘though it does have a sauna and a very nice kitchen. They’ve got funding issues, interpersonal issues, mutiny issues, midlife crisis issues, love triangle issues, pirate issues… they’re Team Zissou, and they’re in search of Bill Murray’s personal Moby Dick.

Talk about a movie that defies analogy and categorization; in plot and look and feel, it’s not really like anything else out there. It’s a feast, visually and musically; wonderful undersea footage (and stop-action animation), richly saturated colors, and a Bowie-based score with throw-ins from the Zombies, Bach, and Iggy Pop (of course, the Bowie cuts are all sung in Portuguese, so there!). The oversaturated colors and writer/director Wes Anderson’s unconventional cuts (and a couple of truly amazing theater-style scenes on a cut-away version of the ship) give it a delightful but somewhat artificial feel, the feel I get from a well-done comic book; enjoyable but very clearly not ‘real’ (which could of course spark the Film School 101 argument about what cinema is supposed to be, anyway…).

Yet it’s also neither zany, nor naïve, nor even melancholy; gently surreal, maybe, like a mild buzz from the joints Murray’s character smokes throughout. Murray has nearly perfected droll-and-despairing; one reason the movie works so well is that its pacing matches Murray’s perfectly. Anjelica Huston is, well, Anjelica Huston; Owen Wilson plays southern-sincere so syrupy that he’s almost Leslie Howard; Cate Blanchett does okay with an interesting but oddly unfinished character; Willem Dafoe gets to turn his trademark intensity on its ear; and for heaven’s sake it’s got Jeff Goldblum and Bud Cort in the same movie! What more could you ask for? It’s truly odd, but not odd in a dark way at all… if you’ll grant Anderson his conceits and just enjoy the ride, it’s a heckuva ride indeed. A-

On basketball, botched opportunities, ballads, and boxers...

Random thoughts while watching college basketball: specifically, watching Texas and Kevin Durant get massacred by USC. First, I know they’re young, but could there be a bigger disconnect between the Longhorns’ talent and their ability to play as a team? Second, despite my Bruin bloodlines, it’s fun to see the Trojans have some success in roundball; it’s no fun beating up on a bad team. Now if we could just wake up Karl Dorrell…

Still catching up/movie review: Anchorman (2004). Mildly amusing and generally inoffensive; Will Ferrell pulls off being a likable boor, and his co-stars are adequate. But the setups are much funnier than the bits themselves; there were a lot of those “boy, this is gonna be funny…. ummm, well, kind of…” A lot like an SNL sketch; funny premise, disappointing execution. Some potentially great cameos suffer the same fate; there are several well-known faces given almost nothing amusing to say or do. One telling sign of its mediocrity: you walk away remembering no killer lines that bring to mind killer scenes. Okay, I'll give them one: during anchor Ron Burgundy's struggle for newsroom supremacy, his signature sign-off is sabotaged on his teleprompter, and what results is pretty funny. That's one. Maybe I'm just not Ferrell's demographic; to paraphrase the late great Dr. Frank-n-furter, "I didn't make it for you!" Grade: C+.

Still catching up/music review: Two Lights, Five for Fighting (2006). I really liked “Superman,” but I didn’t buy FFF’s first CD. I really liked “100 Years,” but I didn’t buy the 2nd CD either. So when I heard “The Riddle,” I thought it was time to buy the CD. Good call. Really good call. John Ondrasik (yes, it’s a guy, not a band) clearly has his influences; Elton John, Billy Joel, James Taylor, a certain ineffable Southern California point of view). This album is mostly piano ballads; several are topical, about a nation at war (“Freedom Never Cries,” “Two Lights”), some are dreams of a better place (“World,” “Road to Heaven”), and some are simply love songs (e.g., “I Just Love You,” which at the end gives a wonderful twist on the relationship being considered). But it’s certainly not all ballads; “Policeman’s Xmas Party” is truly odd but great fun, “California Justice” is sarcastic without being strident (and is full of SoCal references), “65 Mustang” is an upbeat throwaway, and “Johnny America” is out and out exuberant. If you like Harry Chapin and Steve Forbert and my patron saint, Jackson Browne, I think you’ll like this. If you prefer songwriters to poseurs and melody to noise, and if the presence of a piano doesn’t cause you hives, I think you’ll like this. Grade: A.

And happy birthday to George Foreman… he’s 30 today. That probably needs some explaining. Spiritually, it’s his birthday; 30 years ago today, after losing what appeared to be his last heavyweight fight, Foreman had a religious experience that turned him to Christ. "He was a bad guy," says boxing promoter Bob Arum. "Surly. Mean-spirited. He had abused women, got in a lot of street fights. He was selfish, self-centered, had episodes of mistreating people if he didn't get his way.” A changed man, Foreman retired, started a ministry, and spent ten years quietly serving God before launching a comeback that would improbably result in regaining the heavyweight title. He’s left boxing for good now, but he’s still God’s man: "It's a pleasure to be a part of his life," says Arum. "He's a kind, caring, terrific person…. It's sincere, man, it ain't an act." Foreman is throwing himself a huge birthday party in Houston. Happy birthday, brother…

And to close, from Five for Fighting's "Road to Heaven,"

I've never been the kind a man who hits his knees
Got no answers for big questions
I don't know...
Maybe tomorrow lightning will hit me on the head
And we can find out if we're just a joke

Jesus I'm told can build a bridge
Finer than any other man
There's a certain peace to an country road
With a wheel in your hand

But if there was a road to heaven
It'd be one long and crazy ride...
If there was a road to heaven babe
That's a road that I'd like to find.

George found that road; would that you all as well.

They say that life is strange, but compared to what?

Anybody still out there?

I’m not sure to whom I’m apologizing (well, other than maybe Dale and Joe and maybe even Dave), but I apologize for my absence. It’s been a really busy few months.

Am I allowed to catch up?

The GOP loses both houses of Congress: I know there are a dozen things to point to, including failure to acknowledge the wisdom of Wallace Shawn (“never get involved in a land war in Asia”). But I would still argue that it goes back to Gitmo and Abu Ghraib. Americans don’t torture. Americans don’t incarcerate without trial. The documents guaranteeing these ‘rights’ may technically not apply to non-citizens, but they are based upon a Weltanschauung that says these are inalienable and thus universal. More practically, whether we are or not, we like to imagine that we are above that sort of thing; that in world affairs, we have the moral high ground. It will take some time and some hard, smart work to re-establish that in the eyes of the world. And of course, that it was the responsibility of perhaps the most explicitly evangelical-Christian President we have ever had is the hugest disappointment; more than any other, it should have been this President who said, “we will do what is right, we will take the high road, even if it is not expedient, and even if it is dangerous.” But that kind of faith requires humility, not hubris, and hubris has its price. This is hardly exclusively a GOP problem; recommended reading, “The Best and the Brightest” by David Halberstam, about the American (specifically, Democratic) arrogance that landed us in Vietnam.

Better late than never department, Part 1: I finally saw “American Beauty” (1999) on DVD. After 20 minutes, I was ready to turn it off; I hated pretty much everybody in the movie, and I’m less tolerant than I used to be of cynicism passing itself off as black comedy. But I stuck with it… and I realized that I was being played. The marketing theme was ‘look closer,’ probably playing off the rather tired idea that beneath the orderly streets of suburbia lurks chaos… but it was more than that. It took ‘looking closer’ at the characters, and realizing they were more than tired caricatures… there were pretty good reasons why they are what they are. And all of them step right up to edge of the abyss, but only one steps over… in a satisfyingly twisty sort of ending. The acting is amazing; Annette Bening, never a favorite of mine, is absolutely astonishing. I don’t know if you can take away a single neat moral from it; I counted half a dozen almost immediately. But maybe the one that stuck with me the most was, sometimes you get a second chance at your life… and sometimes you don’t.

Better late than never department, Part 2: Simple Plan’s Still Not Getting’Any (2004). Well-produced post-punk-pop (along the lines of newer Green Day); ‘Shut Up’ and ‘Welcome to My Life’ got substantial airplay. But the revelation here is “Untitled,” the final cut and whose lyrics are curiously left off of the booklet. It’s teen angst and dissatisfaction wrapped in a classic power ballad (which of course meant I immediately liked it), but more significantly, it’s about the tragic aftermath of teenage drunk driving. The song is powerful; the video is devastating. Show it to your kids next time they head out to a party. I'm not kidding. Make them sit down first. To say it again: sometimes you don't get a second chance...

And the obligatory sports comment: how ‘bout those Knicks? This is a team that I loved as a kid, second only to my hometown Lakers. Walt Frazier was the coolest of cool, Jerry Lucas was a rock, Willis Reed was a lion, and my favorite non-L.A. player of all time was Dave DeBusschere… and I’ve left out Bill Bradley and Earl Monroe and Phil Jackson. But now the expectations are so low that getting to within six games of .500 earns coach Isiah ‘Midas Touch’ Thomas a contract extension. Amazing. If he wins a playoff game, he might get a lifetime appointment. And if this is good coaching, what adjectives do we have for Phil Jackson riding his one-trick pony to sixth place in the much tougher West?


Ah, but, perspective... to close, Kevin Spacey’s final, post-mortem monologue from “American Beauty,”

“…it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much… my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst...and then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain…

“…and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... (chuckles) You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry...

FADE TO BLACK

“You will someday.”