Blog Migration

Hello all,

For those who haven't yet seen it, I've bought my own domain at www.whatimeanbyhmm.com. All my old posts are found there, and I'm hoping to make it into a more navigable site than this one.

My goal is to make this into a serious professional venture, a place to develop my writing abilities, connect with people online, and share some of my thoughts and visions about the world. Those of you who have enjoyed my blog here will find on my new site a more concentrated effort to offer something of myself to you, in the hope that you might benefit from it in some way.

Thanks for the support so far, and I hope to connect with you in the near future.

Movie Review: Prometheus

In keeping with my goals for this blog, this review will take a more analytical approach than my usual reviews. It contains no spoilers, and I intentionally posted it with only the teaser trailer, since the longer trailers give too much away. However, I’ll say right off the bat that I highly recommend seeing this movie.

The Alien franchise is known as one of the most significant science fiction series, and is arguably the best-known example of a sci-fi/horror crossover. A prequel to the first film was at least dreamed up in 2000, but it's taken a dozen years to actually get made, this time under the direction of Ridley Scott.

Having not touched an Alien-related project since 1979, Scott's approach was always different from those who took on the later films. James Cameron's Aliens took its premise, imagery, and characters from the first film, but was essentially a sci-fi/action film with significant horror elements. I’ll give credit to Cameron for significantly expanding the universe, however I personally didn’t enjoy it or any of the other sequels as much as the 1979 original. It was Alien which to me was the most inspiring, fearsome, and (despite its subject matter) beautiful film of the series.

Other than Alien, Blade Runner, and Gladiator, I’m not particularly familiar with Scott’s work. Out of his recent films I only saw Robin Hood, with which I was a bit disappointed. It didn’t bother me too much that the story didn’t go according to most retellings of the Robin Hood legend, and visually it was an excellent film. The characters and storytelling, though, were not clear or well developed enough to regard it a really good film. Still, from what I have seen I regard Ridley Scott as a highly competent, artistic, and original filmmaker.

To give a fair review, I should state a few facts about my moviegoing experience. First, I had already been excited to see Prometheus due to my love for the original ’79 film.

Second, it was a midnight premiere showing. I haven’t been to many of those, so it there was an element of novelty.

Third, I saw it in IMAX 3D. I actually didn’t have a choice about that. It was the only theatre in my area that was showing it. I consider 3D to be rather gimmicky, and for me it doesn’t add enough to most films to really justify the extra cost. However, the amount of effort the Scott put into the visuals of Prometheus was aided somewhat by the technology. And, IMAX is just a superior cinematic experience in general.

The visual production values of Prometheus were extremely high, and as is consistent with Scott’s style, none of it is pure eye-candy. Scott is an artist – beauty, to him, is meaningful, as is ugliness. These concepts are constants in his style, forming a remarkable visual dynamic in a sort of mythical vision of a film.

The level of audience immersion was also high. Scott cares about the details, but not in and of themselves: his aim is to tell a story, so he must make his setting seem real. The audience is able to “settle in” to the basic setting in order that the more dramatic, otherworldly elements can be appreciated and experienced to the fullest. There are constant visual references to the original film, and it’s worth being familiar with it in order to really grasp the richness of Prometheus, as well as the difference between the two films.

The main heroine, Elizabeth Shaw, is played by Noomi Rapace. There is temptation to think of her as the “new Ripley.” Shaw is not Ripley. Not in the least. The difference in character is actually a brilliant artistic choice: thirty-three years after we met Ellen Ripley, our world is a very different place. Alien still packs a wallop, but it is time for new heroes and new stories. Shaw is still very much a strong character, but not in the way that Ripley was: not cold, not masculine, and not utilitarian. She is a woman of conviction, of emotion, and of faith. I don’t fully understand feminism and its development over the past decades, but I get the sense that while Ripley was the right woman to root for in the Generation X era, Shaw is a Gen Y heroine: warm, feminine, and spiritual, yet possessing a deep strength of character.

This time around, Scott’s character development is a bit utilitarian. Where Alien spoke largely in silence and subtlety, Prometheus is more dialogue-heavy. I understood this choice to a degree – there’s a lot of information to reveal and story to tell, as opposed to the rather minimalistic script and cast of Alien. Still, I wish that sacrifice hadn’t been necessary, because to me it was the main weakness in this otherwise excellent film.

Still, there were some good performances from the supporting cast. Charlize Theron’s enigmatic, bossy corporate executive is toned down compared to her evil queen in Snow White and the Huntsman, but still I thought a bit too intense, especially since she wasn’t nearly as relevant to the plot as I had expected.

Michael Fassbender played the android assistant. Despite the fact that the character “had no soul,” he was the best defined character out of the entire cast, except perhaps Shaw, and I largely credit Fassbender. It’s not a particularly original character, but Fassbender put a lot into this paradoxical archetype – profoundly human, despite being decidedly not human.

Other than these two, though, none of the other characters had enough screen time to really stand out on their own. This is unfortunate because it would not have taken much extra time to accomplish this. Perhaps we will see more relevant footage in the DVD/Blu-Ray release, as with Blade Runner.

It is clear within the first fifteen minutes of the film what the goal of the voyage of the starship Prometheus is – to discover meaning. This is one of the most stark contrasts between Prometheus and Alien: where the crew of the Nostromo were driven by the basic motivations of money and survival, there is a sense of nobility, for the most part, about the main characters at least, and even the crew of the ship. This again suggests a shift in the values of film audiences over the decades. We have become more humanitarian in our mindset – materialism is regarded as crass and inauthentic. A very interesting shift indeed.

Prometheus wastes no time in getting the plot moving. Again, due to the significantly broader scope than most of the other Alien films, a more economical approach to storytelling was needed. As a result, though, the element of mystery was a bit predictable, despite the fact that the plot really hung on the discovery of the truth.

Fear is definitely an element here, but not as much as in Alien. Additionally, the kind of fear is different. As opposed to the more Lovecraftian approach taken previously, fear in Prometheus is more obvious and imminent – not of the unknown, but of discovery, of the truth. Whether intended or not, the message is clear: what you are out to find, you may not like when you find it. In this sense, Prometheus is more science fiction than horror, which also is appropriate for the age – the unknown does not interest contemporary audiences as much as the immediate reality and its implications for the future.

There is one exception to this. I promised no spoilers, so in keeping with that I’ll be brief and abstract: there is one extremely intense scene about halfway though, in which a very present yet unknown fear is the object of attention. It is probably the most memorable scene due to how deeply it rocks the world of the character experiencing the fear. Perhaps when more people have seen it I will post again to discuss it in depth.

The emphasis on the sci-fi side of the setting is marked by an element which in my opinion is sorely absent from a lot of science fiction these days: wonderment. The characters’ encounters with very advanced technology and an extremely foreign society inspire in them a sense of awe. This doesn’t happen much these days. Too many characters take high alien tech for granted – they are too genre-savvy for their own good, and, as a result, so are audiences. The amazing discoveries made in Prometheus are treated with a due sense of wonderment, of the specialness of the discovery. This is why visuals are important in a film – not in and of themselves, but as a means to experiencing something wondrous, something other than ourselves and our world.

One of the major strengths of science fiction is that it is an excellent platform for philosophizing, and Prometheus is no exception. Shaw in particular is a spiritually-minded person, and much of the metaphysical discussion goes on around her. The fact that she manages to reconcile her incredible scientific discoveries with her faith in God shows remarkable strength of character, and reminds us of an important fact – “Why are we here?” is not the same as, “How did we come to be?” This is particularly relevant for Christians today. We must not let science negate our relationship with God, nor the opposite. Facts are facts, but truth is truth.

Shaw is driven not only toward meaning, but toward relationship, from which meaning is derived.  She has maternal instincts, a desire to “create life.” Even this is consequential to her faith, because a significant theme in the film is the relationship between a creator and creation. There is a great deal of tension between these two, even elevating to hatred at times, yet truth and hope for reconciliation are still held to.

Prometheus is a great film: definitely the best of the summer so far, and among the best of the year. In making it, Scott along with writers Jon Spaihts and Damon Lindelof respond to the call of the artist: to grasp at the most profound meanings of life; to excel at their craft and create beautiful, deeply human works; and to honor the past while creating something truly new.

Go out and watch it.

About my movie reviews...

I found out that I sort of offended someone while watching Snow White and the Huntsman, and possibly with the review I published on it. This has never been my intention, and to be honest, writing movie reviews was not what I set out to do with this blog. It was a convenient format for expressing my thoughts on culture, since a lot of people like movies. However, I acknowledge that my reactions to that particular film were a bit extreme. Add to that the fact that my review was fairly emotionally charged and hastily written, and... well, I don't have much of a case here. I'll be re-writing my review, in the next little while, but for now it won't be visible on my site. If you're reading this, I'm sorry for stating my opinions poorly, and please keep reading.

I saw Prometheus in IMAX 3D last night, and I'll be posting my review on that soon.

So I Saw Mogwai Last Night...

Mogwai, the famed Scottish instrumental post-rock band, played the Commodore Ballroom last night. I attended with a couple of friends, one of whom I had never expected to share an experience like that. He had only heard a few Mogwai songs before, but seemed to enjoy the concert pretty enough to take a closer listen.

Random cautionary note: the Urban Fare location on Alberni doesn't take paper gift certificates, even if they seem legit and should apply to any location. The story of how I know this is pretty boring. Just take my word for it.

Sorry, back to the concert. It was hardly a packed house. Where for bands with a bigger local following, such as Mother Mother, the lineup outside would be wrap around the corner to Smithe Street a half hour before the doors open, my friends and I showed up 8pm on the dot to find a line that barely got to Megabite. I guess the post-rock zeitgeist did't really take here on the west coast, so the only people who showed were the few, scattered Mogwai fans from the area.

The opening band never really introduced themselves, which was unfortunate because I kinda liked them. I guess you could call it very poppy, song-driven noise-rock. I suspect they're local. They had that "Vancouver hipster" vibe to them. The singing was pretty good, they had some sweet male harmonies. As an act, though, the sheer amount of sound turned the whole thing into mud at a lot of points. Mogwai obviously does that, too, but they seem to put more purpose behind it - it's part of the experience. This band didn't exercise that same prudence, so it sort of seemed like filler. They honestly didn't play that many songs. In particular, the guitars were really, really bassy and drenched in delay-based effects, so it was impossible to hear what they were doing most of the time. Still, I wish I'd found out who they were because I'd love to hear what they sound like on a record.

I've become very conscious of personalities these days, so as I watched Mogwai come up I tried to read their vibes a bit. This is clearly a very introverted band. Guitarist Stuart Braithwaite likes to move to the beat a lot, and is the only one who ever speaks to the audience, mostly just to thank them for their applause and appreciation. He struck me as rather shy but sweet, like he really enjoyed playing music, and really appreciated the people who showed up. I've seen some stoic bassists, but man, Dominic Aitchison takes the cake. Multi-instrumentalist Barry Burns reeks of calm coolness. He just really knows what he's doing, whether on keyboards and Vocoder, guitar, or bass. Guitarist John Cummings was obscured to me by the fans in front of me, so I didn't read much there. Drummer Martin Bulloch wasn't particularly visible, but he seemed to be having  fun.

This is not music for the impatient, but if you stay open and listen right, the songs don't drag. As a listener, I almost don't even think of them as "songs." If I may get a little mushy for a moment, I think of them as musical moments that last six minutes. It's as if the music itself isn't even the main point, but a way to experience something... other. It's actually very spiritual.

The biggest moment of the night for me was the song, "Rano Pano," off last year's, "Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will." Musically speaking, it's pretty brilliant. It has easily one of their most memorable melodies, and it builds to such huge point. There's a lot of tension and release throughout the song, which is kind of Mogwai's thing. It's my new favorite track from them.

My only disappointment was that they didn't play, "Hunted By A Freak." This is the band I wanted most to see live in my lifetime, and I want to see them again, and again, and again.

My Identity in Punk

This post was on my old blog, under the title, "A (Very) Short History of Punk, and The Beginnings of a Statement of Vision." I'm re-posting it (with some slight editing) for several reasons: 1) it serves as an appropriate preface to another post I'm working on; 2) I already wrote it; 3) I really don't want you to read my old blog. It sucked.

There’s a real risk of my losing focus, motivation, and any hope of a dedicated audience if I just fly by the seat of my pants here. Before I say too many things I know I’ll regret, I want to define my vision for this blog, in order that the things I say here will serve some kind of purpose. So I’ll talk about identity a bit. Probably a lot more of this will come out as I keep writing, but this is a good place to start, as it’s kind of core to the way I think.

I am a person who is very interested in the idea of subculture. One of the best and most obvious examples of subculture in Western society is punk rock. Unfortunately, the term "punk rock" has not aged well, and its meaning has fallen into ambiguity, though arguably it was pretty convoluted to begin with.

To me, the most essential aspect of punk is finding strength and identity in alienation. In a lot of cases that can be a very destructive kind of strength, and a volatile kind of identity. It's actually kind of amazing that punk is still exists in any form at all, considering how much it's suffered throughout the past several decades. The original boom lasted only a few short years. Regional scenes and splinter movements have developed and fallen apart. Many artists have quit, died, or sold out. Mainstream capitalist culture has taken every opportunity to cash in on its popularity, each time taking more than the movement could give. The words, “Punk rock is dead,” and, “Punk rock is still alive,” have been uttered too many times to count.

I am of the opinion that, despite it all, punk lives on to this day. Probably not in the way that the Ramones or the Sex Pistols might have guessed… but then they were insane. I doubt if they really understood what they were doing or what it would mean decades later.

How did it manage to survive, mangled and disfigured (or perhaps transfigured) as it is? It goes back to the “spirit” of punk rock. This was something that people in the post-punk and early hardcore era seem to have understood well. They were still who they were: angry middle-class intellectuals and anti-intellectuals, postmodernists through-and-through, snot-nosed kids with something to say. The scene that had embraced and inspired them had gone out in flames, but they kept going because punk was not just their scene. It was their identity.

And it's part of mine, as well. It resonates with me on a number of levels: the community of outcasts; the angry kids with guitars screaming about whatever; the spiky-haired prophets out to change the world.
I don't literally consider myself a punk, or a geek, or a metalhead, or really anything. Any time I get really close to any one particular subculture, I discover something really ugly about it that sends me running. But they all still have their place in my heart. Punk rock in particular is something of a symbol for me, and for a dream I have.

Basically, I want to change the world.

Threenie Tuesday Movie Review: The Dictator

Time for another Threenie Tuesday movie review! Unfortunately I got caught up doing other things yesterday afternoon and didn't get to the theater in time to catch a 7-ish showing, so only one this week.

I caught the new Sacha Baron Cohen film, The Dictator. I've not seen any of his previous films, though I have watched a bit of Da Ali G Show, so I kinda-sorta knew what to expect. Most people will remember the hype surrounding Borat, and a little bit with Bruno and Ali G Indahouse. Shock value can be a powerful thing if you're trying to get people attention or make a statement, but its effectiveness depends on people's sensitivity to it.

By now it seems that most people are somewhat at peace with Sacha Baron Cohen's own brand of offensiveness. Either they've become desensitized or don't care anymore, which seems to be happening a lot to entertainers these days. For example, did you know Marilyn Manson put out a new album this month? Didn't think so. People found out that he's not really as scary as he seem onstage or in his music videos. Actually, he comes across as a pretty nice, humble guy in interviews. All the controversy and mystique just sort of dissipated over the past decade. (Of course in Manson's case, there's also the fact that his fans all graduated high school and moved on with their lives.)

In order to properly critique The Dictator, we need some way to evaluate all the supposedly shocking content. The cast of It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia have stated that they let humor be their guide in deciding whether a bit is too far or not: it all comes down to, "Is it funny?" It's not the most objective consistent criterion I've heard (I'll talk about that some other time), but it's good enough for now I guess.

So, is The Dictator funny? Sometimes. Admiral General Aladeen, Baron Cohen's principal character, is a rather ridiculous (what else) caricature of the Middle Eastern war criminal. He's crude, selfish, narcissistic, and most of all, bigoted, which is the main characteristic from which the humor is drawn. This is Baron Cohen's strategy: heinously racist, sexist, and otherwise politically incorrect comments are spouted at audience stand-in characters by some inane bastard whom nobody could ever take seriously.

It's so bizarre, yet it sort of works. I didn't catch myself getting personally offended by anything said or done. The only time it came anywhere close was when Aladeen made a comment about Filipinos, but the joke was too moronic to mean anything to me.

One of the most disappointing elements of this film was the amount of body humor it used. Not sexual humor (actually some of that was kind of funny), but honest-to-goodness pee and poop gags. These can be incredibly funny in the right context, but in this case it was just crude and predictable.

In general, there were very few surprises in the movie. The plot (not that it mattered) was stock Adam Sandler fare, the characters (not that they mattered other than Aladeen and the one girl) were irrelevant, and the political commentary (which was the best hope for this film to be anything but a juvenile gross-out flick) was no more insightful than anything you can find on a 14-year-old's Facebook page. I found this to be rather disappointing since Da Ali G Show makes me cringe with anticipation, pity the guests, and generally just laugh my ass off. Baron Cohen can be the epitome of facetiousness when he wants to be, and I can respect that. I caught glimpses of that in The Dictator, but for the most part it's pretty dumbed-down.

I plan to watch Borat in the next week in order to form a more contextualized opinion. However, I believe that a work should stand on its own, unless the necessary background is clearly identified (take the Family Guy Star Wars episodes, for instance). In that respect, I cannot recommend The Dictator. If you just want to be entertained... I don't know, watch cat videos at home or something.

6.7/10

Russian Circles & A Short Reflection on Genre

Here's a concert I'm pretty excited to attend: Russian Circles & And So I Watch You From Afar, June 22 2012 @ Biltmore Cabaret, Vancouver. Russian Circles is an instrumental rock band I've liked for a few years now, and this is the first chance I've had to hear them live.



And So I Watch You From Afar (yes, that's the band's name) is a Belfast-based band also set to play that night. I'd never heard of them until I caught wind of the concert, but I checked them out, and I'm even more excited to go. This is the kind of music I want to make. Take a listen.



I read someone describe ASIWYFA as a "mathematically influenced punk" band. I suppose that's accurate, but the purpose of the comment was to point out that they're not a post-rock band. This is just silly to me. I honestly don't understand all the backlash against the term, "post-rock," or most genres for that matter. Remember all the bands that refused to be known as "emo" in the early- to mid-2000's? The same happened with "nu-metal" in the late 90's, and "grunge" in the mid-90's. You'll often notice artists, especially ones from alternative scenes, get really touchy when people talk about the genre of their work. (Just so we're clear, I'm not specifically talking about ASIWYFA.)

The thing is though, that these terms are not value judgements. Not originally, anyway. Genres are the territory of journalists and critics. They're descriptive terms invented to explain what a work (in this case, music) is like. Genre talks about the structure, style, and often the cultural context of the work. It's more for the benefit of the listener than for the artist, meant to set up appropriate expectations about how to listen to the music, not to put it in a box.

Many artists have a rather cynical outlook on genre. I've heard some dismiss it as an outdated system created by music shops to figure out how to stick which records where. [I'll leave the dirty jokes to you guys.] Others blame it more on music journalists, those guys who clearly don't understand music at all since they have to steal its soul by writing about it. It's an us-against-them mentality, and it may show my ignorance or naivete to say this, but my guess is that it's unnecessary for artists to be antagonistic about this. Other music business drama notwithstanding.

Personally, I find genre categorization fascinating, as a thinker, musician, and music lover. Genre is a critical thinking and listening tool, and this is what artists miss. Perhaps rather than fearing genre, they could study it and use it to their advantage. Categories and limitations are great creative tools. They eliminate the paralysis of the blank canvas, providing a place to start making art. At the same time, one doesn't need to be a slave to genre. If you know what the rules are, you also know exactly how far you can bend them.

So I guess what I'm saying is this: if the shoe fits, wear it. It not...

Become a cobbler? Or at least learn more about shoes.

Threenie Tuesday Review: Safe

Here's my belated review from this past Tuesday. Thanks for your patience. Because there were totally people out there, eagerly waiting to hear what I thought of Safe, right?



Now, I've got lots to say on this film, so I waste time telling you stuff that you won't find out from watching the trailer, or giving details that IMDB or Wikipedia can do better.

This review represents the latest development in a progression I've been experiencing, so it's related to other things I've been thinking about. I wish I could just give you a grade or number of starts telling you whether you should see Safe or not.

If only it were that simple...

In fairness, I should mention that I didn't see this movie alone. I went with four other people, most of whom I know from college. I tend to prefer watching movies alone, at least for the first time. I can watch LotR, Star Wars, Napoleon Dynamite, or That Thing You Do! (ooh, gotta blog about that one eventually) with friends or family. We'll talk a lot, recite dialogue as it happens, give commentary, etc. and it actually does add to the fun.

But normally, if I'm seeing a movie for the first time with other people, my personal viewing experience is significantly colored by my perception of their experience. More often than not, that coloration results in a less enjoyable experience for me. I'm interested and concerned by what they think, how our experiences might differ, and why. It adds a layer of social awkwardness to the moviegoing experience, and it's something I try to avoid.

I bring this up because, if I'm honest, it did influence my opinion. I should explain. Sometimes I have trouble deciding between two options. Do I want chicken or beef? Coke or ginger ale? Should I sleep on my left side or my right?

When I get in jams like these, I find it's helpful to ask the opinion of someone whom I love, trust, and respect. Then do exactly the opposite of what they say.

It's not that I don't think people's advice isn't valid. It's quite valid. But it's also wrong. Therefore, when I get other people's advice, I have the highly valuable knowledge of exactly what I should not do.

I want to assure you that I'm kidding. If only it were that simple...

Anyway, movie review.

As we came out of the theater, one of my friends expressed the typical opinion that Jason Statham movies are enjoyable crap. Personally, I kinda liked it, and not as a "so-bad-it's-good" movie. I thought it was pretty good. Whether I just wanted to disagree with my friend or not, I'm not sure. Let's see how well I rationalize this.

As a person who approaches entertainment critically, I had to learn over a period of time how to watch Jason Statham movies. The first one I saw was The Transporter 3. I'll be honest, I hated that movie. It was pure Eurotrash. Especially the Eurotrash girl.

As I watched more Statham films, I grew to understand that there were certain things one had to know to expect in order to enjoy them, and possibly even pick out some genuine strengths. None of them did I think were really good films. They were pretty good action films, with stories and acting ranging from bad to just okay.

The first one I saw and really liked was The Mechanic. This one takes a lot of explaining as well. I guess I should save that for another entry. Suffice it to say, though, that I grown to appreciate Statham films for what they are.

Right, so... Safe. One of the most important elements of any story is characterization, and in this case writer-director Boaz Yakin and cast actually did a pretty good job.

Statham's character, Luke Wright, seems much more human than a lot of his previous roles. Right from the beginning, the guy has less than nothing. There are some character moments of surprising depth and vulnerability in the early scenes. When he stumbles his way into the plot and makes his first kill of the movie, he tells the shocked crowd around him, "Don't lose sleep. He had it coming," then proceeds to vomit off-screen, presumably out of remorseful disgust. This is as hardened and brutal a character as Statham has ever played, but this isn't his typical gruff anti-hero or almost-villain. Wright is a man of violence, suffering, and near despair, but he is a hero in the traditional sense of the word. His investment in Mei is not based on greed, lust, or revenge, but on a value for human life, and a desire for justice, as near as he can hope to accomplish. There is one quibble I have with him though, which is that the first time we see him, he's an MMA fighter. For barely a scene. It's a rather thin excuse for a plot hook, and I can't help but think there are a hundred more plausible ways Yakin could have handled that.

Mei, played by young Catherine Chan, seems like a real (albeit somewhat precocious) child. Her portrayal is more realistic than I had expected. Early on in the story she is presented as an exceptionally intelligent and brave girl. At the same time, I appreciated the fact that she wasn't ultra-capable just because she was a genius. Geniuses are often really stupid people, and middle-school-aged kids are still kids. There is an interesting balance here: she is dangerous, yet somehow helpless.

The crime bosses, played by James Hong (known as the host from the Chinese restaurant episode of Seinfeld) and Igor Jijikine, are pretty genuinely bad guys. I'm reminded of Elastigirl's speech to Dash and Vi in the Incredibles: they do not value Mei's life any more than those of the victims of their rackets. They want what they want, and they're willing to kidnap, threaten, torture, or kill a little girl to get it. Their henchmen, Reggie Lee and Joseph Sikora, respectively, are just as ruthless, though Lee's character has a more interesting role to play as Mei's adoptive father, earning him a little more screen time than any of the other major mobsters.

There are some weaker characters here, such as Wright's crooked NYPD frenemies, or the mayor of New York, or his aide. For the level of influence they have on the plot, they're relatively flat characters. A little acting flair or some wittier dialogue writing would have added a little more complexity.

Of course, this is a Jason Statham movie, so maybe deeper character motivations and a more involved story would have clogged up our sensory input channels too much, leaving no room for all the firefights and beatdowns. The plot was exactly as complex as it needed to be to carry the action and drama.

One of the things that I noted in retrospect is that the level of violence was not particularly high, which I suppose works well with the "good guy" version of the Statham action hero. The fight scenes weren't the most memorable I've seen. Perhaps it's due to going from the large-scale destruction in The Avengers, or the squicky brutality of last year's Drive, but Safe didn't really stand out to me. Action movies are sort of an all-or-nothing, go-big-or-go-home proposition. If you don't have a massive wad of money to dump into your action scenes, you'd better do something extra clever.

That said, Safe is overall a step up from Statham's usual schtick. There's extra tension, drama, and even heart in this film. Oddly enough, the most tender-hearted character in the whole movie is actually Luke Wright. It seems that Statham has some hidden depth as an actor. I won't pretend that Safe was a really good movie, but it's good enough to give some hope to Hollywood after last year's rather depressing lack of anything good to watch.

Out of 10, I give this a 7.8. See it if you want, if you don't, don't. Keep an open mind if you do. It might surprise you.

Threenie Tuesday Review: "The Pirates! Band of Misfits"

I hadn't set out to make this a reviews blog, but entertainment seems to be my main source of subject matter these days. It happens during times of boredom. I've found myself having video game dreams several times in the past couple weeks. Hopefully something else will come along soon.

The theater (that is, cinema) in my town gives a significant discount on Tuesdays. It used to be $2 per ticket (earning the title, "Twoonie Tuesdays"), but they upgraded their projectors and upped the price to $3. Still a good deal, so it's a good time to see a bunch of movies in one day. This is the first of my Threenie Tuesday review series. Fingers crossed.


The first movie I saw tonight The Pirates! Band of Misfits, the newest feature film by Aardman Animation, the company responsible for Chicken Run and the Wallace & Gromit cartoons. It wasn't a particularly interesting film, not nearly as clever as anything else I've seen from Aardman.

The premise was innocently silly enough to get my interest: the Pirate Captain (that's his actual name, as far as the movie is concerned) and his motley crew of... well, pirates, set out to win the Pirate of the Year award by being... the best pirates of the year. Piracy here is treated like it is in a lot of children's entertainment: a noble profession full of glorious, misadventurous amusement. The "bad guy" is (do you really care? I'll say it anyway, just in case) ***SPOILER ALERT*** the Queen of England, whose motivation is clear from the start of the film: she hates pirates.

Now, I understand how cliche it is to go on a rant about declining values in children's entertainment, the corruption of our youth by the media. That's been covered by much louder, dumber people than me, and I see no reason to add to the noise. Besides, children's entertainment has been screwed up for a long time. Have you ever heard a nursery rhyme or fairy tale? There's really very little room for values to decline here.

I will say, though, that this film has the unfortunate, but not uncommon, problem of not knowing who its target audience is. Big mistake, especially for a comedy The theater in which I saw it was far from full. There were a few young adults other than myself, but mostly it was parents with young kids. The kids were not laughing. They didn't understand most of the jokes, which is honestly a blessing. It was humorous enough to elicit a few chuckles from us twenty-somethings, but no more than any other slapstick comedy could. It was too juvenile for the adults, and too mature (if you can call it that) for the kids. If they had zeroed in on the kids' humor and made it more innocent, or tried to appeal to the adults and make it really irreverent, the element of genuine humor wouldn't have been so sorely absent.

Beyond that, the usual marks of the Aardman style were definitely missing. The characters were underdeveloped and underutilized, giving the audience little reason to invest in the action or gags. The antagonist in particular was not nearly despicable enough for me to care, especially in comparison to the terrifying Mrs. Tweedy from Chicken Run. Overall the dramatic tension ranged from medium-low to very low.

Maybe at some point I'll devise a rating system for my reviews. For now, I'll just say I didn't like it.

I also saw the newest Jason Statham vehicle, "Safe." I have thoughts on that too, but I've done enough blogging for one day. I'll post my review of that in a couple of days.

Meshuggah, May 8, 2012 @ Commodore Ballroom - Concert Review

A week ago I went to see Meshuggah play the Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver. I've been a fan of theirs for a few years now, but I'd never been to one of their shows.

For those of you who aren't familiar with Meshuggah, they are a Swedish heavy metal band. They've been around since the Late Eighties, but they didn't start to get big until about a decade later. Throughout their career, they've carved out a very unique sound and reputation. They are known as one of the heaviest bands in the world, but not in the sense that one might expect. Their sound would not be accurately described as "death metal." There are no blast beats, no growled vocals, and their lyrical content is not particularly preoccupied with death, though it is dark to be sure.

There are several elements of their music which really stand out and define Meshuggah's unique place in the world of metal. The best-known, most talked-about element is their polyrhythmic guitar riffs. They've said in interviews that they only ever play in 4-4 time, but the guitar parts are written in weird meters apart from the drum beat, lending the songs a highly complex rhythmic feel. What is really remarkable about this approach is that they do not let it hinder their musicality. Though it is challenging to listen to at first, the music grooves along very well, and once you listen to it for a while, you learn when to bang your head along to it. Generally, you just follow the crash cymbal.

Marten Hagstrom and Fredrik Thorendal, the two guitarists in the band, have chosen their guitars and amp setups for maximum efficiency and destructive power. They play custom Ibanez 8-string guitars, which are constructed more like short-scale (30.5") basses, Lundgren pickups, and Line 6 amps. The resulting sound is sharp, tight, percussive, and cold. It's machine-like, really. It's like a mechanical device designed to generate to most powerful metal guitar tone ever heard.

Jens Kidman's vocals are also quite different from the droves of growlers and screamers on the scene right now. Instead of a devilish, death-metal style, his vocals, like the guitars, sound almost mechanical. "Robotic" is a term I've heard used to describe it, which I think is accurate. He paces himself rhythmically, just like the rest of the band.

Penny for my thoughts? PLEASE?

So, um... I'm broke. Not a huge surprise, I guess. It's very easy to run out of money using my own time-tested method of spending money without earning any. I take pride in the effectiveness of my methods. Of going broke.

Something weird happens to me in times like these, where I try to rationalize my position. I start this very odd thought pattern, trying to convince myself that I don't need money. This is probably nothing new to some of you out there. You tell yourself that, in the grand scheme of things, money is a very small, relatively insignificant thing. After all, you've got your health, good looks, talent, intellect, relationships, dreams, etc. haven't you? Aren't those really more important than the trivial, mundane matter of money?

Before I go on, I should let you know that I know that you know just how stupid that sounds. This is an interesting ability that we humans have, of wilful self-deception. We can alter our perception of reality to make it fit something, whether it's a romanticized expectation on the course of our lives or a comprehensive (heh) theory of the universe. We can believe things which we know on some level, even most of our being, to be false. Look at... example.

Erm...

Well, relationships can certainly have that element. I'm pretty guarded about this in my own life, and even I have fallen prey to a rose-colored outlook. Other people I've known suffer much worse in this regard, where their views on their relationships take on a sort of bipolar character: it's either, "I really can't stand him/her," or, "He's/she's my favorite person in the world!" This is one extreme form of self-deception, where one oscillates between two opposing fallacies. It's really bizarre to behold, yet it happens all the time.

Self-deception is not always a wholly evil thing. It's what allows us to engage with art, especially fiction. Of course, the appropriate term in that context is, "willing suspension of disbelief." Sounds much nicer, doesn't it? Funny thing about euphemisms: while there may be real, important distinctions between terms, using language like this carelessly can allow for some weird blurring of definitions. Euphemisms are about reassigning value in words. Saying "self-deception" suggests that value is placed on truth or reality. "Suspension of disbelief" suggests that disbelief, the default mindset, somehow limits the audience's ability to see or understand something, and therefore must be suspended for a time. Take away the value judgements in those words, and the two terms mean exactly the same thing: accepting fiction as reality, falsehood as truth.

Uh, I guess I'm done for now.

The Intro Post

Where to begin...? I guess I can start with some thoughts on identity. Normal people call this an "introduction." This blog will be a little bit different, though, so it's very important for you who are reading this understand where I'm coming from.

My name is Ryan. I identify myself as "male." More on that later.

I consider myself a religious person. I know some people tend to view that term with some distaste, but it's taken on new meaning for me in the past year, and it's begun to shape my thinking and my identity. I'm an artist, as well: I've been playing guitar for about ten years now, and drawing cartoons for basically my whole life. My major right now in college is "Worship Arts," which is the perfect blend of theology, ministry training, and aesthetics.

One of the primary motivations for blogging is that when it comes to things that I'm passionate about, I have too many thoughts to possibly bring up. The best example of this is music. If I am asked what kind of music I like, all I can do is list the handful of bands that I'm listening to at the time. There are patterns in my taste: I am very much drawn to most things that came from punk rock. At the same time, for nearly every band (maybe every album, even) there is a story behind why I bothered to give them a try, and why I bother to continue. In fact, there's some kind of story for a lot of my life. I hope to share some of those stories with you.

I should note that this (blogging, that is) is a pretty new thing for me. I suppose, like a lot of other people, I've started a bunch of blogs before and virtually abandoned them a few days later. I'd never had a vision for blogging. I don't even know why I bothered to start them. This time it's a bit different. I've learned about myself and what I'm good at, and I've spent a lot of time developing my voice in how I write. For the purpose of this blog, I will apply an analytical approach to my boring life, my art, my church life, and my relationships, in the hope that something I discover will mean something for someone else.

A note about my writing voice. This is pretty apparent to most people who meet me, but I tend to have an at least half-serious demeanor. In social settings, I tend to use sarcasm as a way of expressing exactly what I mean, but in a way that, in all likelihood, will fly over the heads of my audience. In a sense, it's a test: I give my meaning in a somewhat cryptic way, wanting only those who are really interested to find out what I mean.

That's sort of what I'm doing with you, my new readers. I thought I'd at least be nice enough to let you know, and invite you to try to unravel what I'm saying. Please don't mistake this for contempt, though. I'm kind of a weird and complex person. I realize that I can be infuriating at times. I swear, it's not you. It's me.

There will no doubt be tons of themes throughout the life of this blog (assuming I keep up with posting), and they'll probably change as time goes on, as I gain more knowledge and life experience, and as I keep writing and (hopefully) interacting with my audience. However, the themes I'm exploring right now include identity within various contexts, shifts in life and culture due to the rise of technology, ritual and tradition in religious practices, and integration of religion into daily life.

I don't pretend to lead a particularly interesting life. For the purposes of this blog, though, I really don't think I need to. The sick, scary wonders of suburban Canada provide enough material for a lifetime of reflection and analysis. So strap in. It's going to be a long, bumpy, uncomfortable ride to nowhere.

This is gonna be fun on the bun.